#Golf Without Shoes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ienjoywritingfilth · 4 months ago

Text

a sinner i am

If its so wrong, why does it feel so good?

trope: Boyfriend's Dad PP character: Joel Miller x f reader summary: Your boyfriend Shawn Miller and his dad Joel bring you along to Hawaii for Christmas vacation. Things don't go as planned.

warning: 10/10 on the sexual tension scale, slowishh burn, kissing, grinding, cheating on your bf (but it’s cool, cuz its with Joel and everything is fictional in this universe), alternative universe b/c daddy miller stays alive and hates golf and he has a son named Shawn, no Sarah. rating: E

words 6.8k

wanna see my other stuff?

part i : takeoff

The best things in life are the people we love, the places we’ve been, and all the memories we’ve made along the way. - author unknown

"Loving him is a sin; of that I'm fully aware. But a sinner I am." - Bella Jewel

Your boyfriend Shawn brings over two iced coffees as the two of you work on a crossword together at your local coffee shop. You have been filling in the squares quickly.

"Thanks babe," you say warmly as you take the coffee from him. He presses a kiss to your temple, taking a seat next to you.

"Damn, you're fast this mornin'," he says when he sees all you've filled in. It's a tradition for the two of you; weekend crosswords over coffee. It's nice. It's domestic.

It's a little boring.

You're college sweethearts who met your sophomore year and have been inseparable since. And while the love is still very much there the butterflies have unfortunately been hibernating for a while.

It's normal, you tell yourself when you sometimes zone out during sex. It's normal when you've been together with someone so long.

"It's so nice to be doing this instead of college essays," you say.

"Fuck yeah it is."

This is your first summer of freedom without the threat of schoolwork looming in the near distance. Shawn is starting his master's in the fall and you've just accepted a position at the local museum.

“Just think I’ll actually be able to enjoy Christmas this year,” you tease. “Unlike someone who’ll be working on essays.”

“Hey now,” Shawn says with mock offence. “I’ll be able to enjoy my Christmas just fine. Actually, my dad wants to celebrate Christmas somewhere warm this year. He's talkin' about some resort in Hawaii."

Shawn comes from money, the son of the infamous Joel Miller of The Miller Company, the premiere construction firm in Texas. This means expensive vacations, nice cars, all of that is normal for him. You meanwhile have had to work hard for everything you have.

Being left behind at Christmas seems strangely unkind for the normally thoughtful head of the Miller family. Shawn's dad has always treated you like one of the family so this news is unexpected.

"Have a great time," you say trying not to be jealous. "Bring me back some chocolate macadamia nuts."

You can admit that even though both Shawn and his father are humble, kind men, you're always a bit bitter that they live so nicely. Leaving you out of their holiday vacation seems especially unkind.

"He's taking both of us babe," Shawn says with a grin. "You think he's gonna leave you behind on Christmas? After you’ve spent the last six with us?"

Christmas in Hawaii? Is this a dream? Your pencil lays forgotten on the table as you gape open-jawed at your boyfriend.

"Are you serious?"

"Babe," Shawn says meaningfully. "My dad likes you better than he likes me. Of course you're invited."

You've always gotten along with Joel. It's impossible not to. He's friendly, funny and charming. There's a reason he's good at his job. And you're a good girl, a kind girlfriend to his son with clear career ambitions.

A smile breaks out over your features and you pull Shawn into a tight hug. He chuckles, embracing you back, kissing your cheek.

"Make sure you don’t overpack, okay?" He murmurs in your ear as you giggle. “I don’t feel like helping you haul six bags of shoes for a week-long trip.”

Thoughts of lounging by the pool with a drink in one hand and a magazine in the other while the Hawaiian sun beats down on you is all too enticing. You kiss him fiercely, imagining the time together.

"I can't wait."

The two of you finish the crossword puzzle all the while talking about the drinks and food and the excursions you'll both take.

"Maybe once I've got a handle on school we can think about findin' an apartment in the new year," Shawn broaches, his hand over yours.

Sex fades, but this? This domestic stuff you have with Shawn? That's special. That's love.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He gives you a smile, that dimple poking out of his cheek that makes you swoon.

"Ready to go?" Shawn asks, extending his hand to you when your coffees are drained.

"Yeah," you say with your hand taking his. "Let's go."

When December twentieth announces itself with a thunderstorm you couldn’t care less because you’re at the airport. Your large rolling bag bag is stuffed with cute outfits, swimsuits and even some snorkelling gear.

"Feels like you got a dead body in here," Shawn laughs as he struggles with the two bags, handing you yours before swinging an arm around your shoulders.

"I wanted to be prepared."

"Let's go my little Girl Scout," he laughs with a gentle kiss to your temple. You both check in and then find your boarding gate.

"I'm gonna grab breakfast, you want anything?" Shawn asks as he parks you and the suitcases by the gate full of noisy travellers.

"Nah, I'm good."

Shawn jogs off in the direction of a Starbucks you passed on your way in.

Out the larger windows you can see planes taking off. You've never flown before; you thought that you'd be excited. But at the first view of those planes out the window you feel your stomach drop.

They’re so big and bulky. How does it fly properly? It couldn’t. What if people shift around too much in their seats? Surely this can’t be a safe form of travel!

You pull out your phone, distracting yourself with a game. You try for several moments but your eyes keep being drawn to the huge planes outside. You grimace, wondering if you should have gotten your doctor to prescribe you something for anxiety.

"Cheer up," a voice says. "You look like you're goin' to prison, not a five star resort."

You glance over to see Shawn's dad, Joel, at the other side of you, an amused look on his handsome face. He's wearing jeans and a faded grey Longhorns t-shirt. You're momentarily thrown as normally you see him in dress pants and button downs for work.

"I'm excited for the resort, just not the giant metal death box hurling through the air that is my only means of getting there."

"Touche."

Shawn jokes about Joel liking you better then he likes him, but the truth is you and Joel are very similar. Your senses of humour, your ability to read people, your tendency to see the worst in people before they prove themselves worthy.

Shawn is more like his mom, sweet and naive at times, always seeing the good in people. It's ironic considering which parent stuck around to raise him and which one escaped the country six years after Shawn was born.

Joel takes the empty seat next to you, his kneecap kissing yours as he pulls out his phone.

"Never flown before," you explain.

"Ah, I see," Joel puts his phone in his pocket, his attention fully fixed on your face. "Well what if I told you it's actually the safest way to travel?"

"I'd call you a liar."

Joel chuckles richly, his hand falling to your knee and squeezing as he laughs.

"I promise you, I wouldn't take you on anything unsafe. And if all that's not good enough, you'll have Shawn beside you holding your hand the whole time."

You grin at that, nodding. The thought of Shawn being there does help your anxiety. Joel smiles back, eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Thank you so much for inviting me along in this trip, Joel. I've always wanted to go to Hawaii."

"S'a beautiful place," Joel nods. "And you don't need to thank me. You're practically family at this point."

Shawn returns with a muffin and two coffees in hand.

"Hey dad, got you a coffee," Shawn says handing it to his father.

"Thanks," Joel says gratefully. Just then the intercom alert sounds

"Good afternoon passengers.This is the announcement for flight 82B for Oahu, Hawaii. We are now inviting passengers to begin boarding. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you.”

“That’s us.”

The lineup goes uncomfortably fast. You stand beside Sean who is talking to Joel behind you, the two of them deep in conversation about football, a subject you couldn't care less about. You are still too preoccupied with the flight, being surrounded by almost all strangers sailing through the sky.

You're not a fan of heights. So when you get to the door of the plane you hesitate, willing your foot to move. When it doesn't and the flight attendants shoot you a confused look, you feel yourself start to panic.

Shawn has gone on ahead to grab your seats and place your carry-on bag in the overhead bin, not noticing that you're not behind him. A large hand flies to the small of your back, a comforting gesture. Joel. He rubs there, soothing you.

"You'll be okay darlin'," he rumbles in your ear. "Remember, it’s safer than drivin' a car."

“Liar.”

Joel’s deep chuckle makes you grin and you allow Joel to gently prod you onto the plane, shooting the waiting attendants grateful looks for their patience. He takes his seat near the front, watching as you make your way to your seat next to Shawn. As you buckle in a thought occurs to you and you move your voice to a whisper.

"Isn't it gonna be kinda weird with us being there all week with just your dad? I mean, sharing the place and all?"

"Nah, he made sure the rooms were far apart. Plus, he invited his girlfriend to come along so I doubt we'll see much of him."

Joel is a chronic workaholic, often pulling late nights and working on his phone. You’ve seen him out and about with beautiful women at the events Shawn takes you to but never formally dating them. You always assumed to be a lifelong bachelor. You wouldn't blame him, especially after what he's been through with Shawn's mother.

"I didn't know he had a girlfriend," you say honestly. "Good for him."

"A couple months now," your boyfriend tells you. "You know my dad, mister private. But he took me to dinner and told me about her so I think he's getting serious."

"That's really sweet," you say honestly. You want nothing but the best for him.

All of a sudden the plane starts to jiggle, sending people stumbling down the aisles and others gasping in surprise. You reach over and grab Shawn's hand, trying to regulate your breathing.

"Not so tight, babe," Shawn complains before gently sliding his hand from under yours. "You scratched me with your nails."

"Sorry," you mumble, eyes closed as the jostling of the plane continues.

You tighten your seat belt before gripping the seat arms so tightly that your knuckles are white. Sean squeezes your kneecap, murmuring that everything will be okay and that you’re safe. You keep your eyes closed, trying to focus on the soothing sounds of his words.

Eventually the plane enters smooth skies and the seat belt sign is turned off. Despite this you remain keyed up, sitting stiffly as Shawn fades into a nap.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

You crack open an eye to see a beautiful redheaded flight attendant bending down towards you with a glass of what appears to be whisky in her hand. She extends it towards you and you take it confused.

"This is from the gentleman in A-1. He says to take this and you'll be relaxed for the rest of the flight."

You look up a few rows to see Joel giving you a brief wave. You thank the women before raising it towards Joel in a Cheers motion.

Drink it. Joel mouths.

Yes, sir. You mouth back complete with a stiff fake salute before tossing back the drink.

He grins at you before settling back in his seat.

The drink does the job.

"Here we are."

The cab drops the three of you in front of the beach resort. When you step out the air is fragrant with the scent of flowers. You wait while Joel checks you all in before he's back, motioning for you both to follow.

There's the main section of the resort with luxurious hotel rooms. The more secluded section contains a variety of self contained houses that dot the waterfront. Its reserved for people who have unlimited credit card limits and drive cars that cost more than your parents first home.

When you arrive to your unit, your eyes are ready to bug out of your head. It's massive, as far as vacation rentals go. When you all step into the air conditioned unit you have to take a moment to take it all in.

The beach house is beautiful with floor to ceiling windows, stunning tile floors and tasteful furniture. All of this is topped off with spectacular views of the beach outside your door.

A plate of sliced pineapple and chilled wine sits on the kitchen table, along with a note that Joel reads when he wanders over.

"Welcome note," he explains when he sees you looking at it. "I knew the owner back in trade school."

You and Shawn nod, your boyfriends hand trailing down your back gently. It's much the same as what Joel did back at the airplane, but it feels different. You trail your suitcase behind you hearing the clack of it against the stone floor as you move around the room.

"Wow."

It's all you can utter as the three of you tour the rest of the unit. There’s a simple kitchen with an expensive looking coffee machine and a brand new bag of kona coffee waiting to be used. The living room holds a table and four chairs, a few board games and a list of nearby places to visit along with the wifi code. The couch is simple, placed in front of a large television that you’re sure you won’t use.

"My bedrooms on the right," Joel tells you both. "Yours it's on the left. We're sharin’ a bathroom, sorry about that. Pretty common in these places."

Who cares about sharing a bathroom when you're in one of the most beautiful places you've ever been? Even the bathroom is beautiful with its high waterfall shower head and sleek marble. This place must have cost a fortune for the week.

Joel encourages you both to take a look at your room down the hall and you don't hesitate to take Shawn's hand, dragging him there. Shawn pushes open the door to the bedroom and you can't hold in your shriek.

"Holy shit! It's gorgeous!"

The big windows overlook the ocean, the late afternoon beach beckoning to you. The bed is large and plush with white sheets, and framed prints of Oahu sunsets. Its spacious, the bed so large it looks like two giant beds pushed together. The closet is spacious and boats dozens of wood coat hangers.

“Wood, because it’s classy,” you tell Shawn in amusement who is already unpacking his suitcase while you continue to stare in a daze.

"You like it?"

Joel is standing at the door frame, a shoulder balanced against it, watching you take it all in. He's smiling at you in that gentle, sweet way of his that makes you feel cared for.

You're suddenly overcome with gratitude and you streak over to him.

"Thank you, Joel!" You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him. "This is the most beautiful place I've ever been."

Joel laughs along with Shawn at your embrace and enthusiasm, holding you around the middle and hoisting you in his arms. Your face presses into his neck as he squeezes you, and the scent of leather and sandalwood envelops you.

You've never really hugged Joel before. Maybe a polite side hug during family events, a high-five during baseball games and even once a hard push to his shoulder when he made fun of you for being afraid of a spider that had gotten into the house.

But you've never had your front pressed to his, never really felt the muscles of his back and arms, seen the tendons in his neck or realized just how big his hands are when they squeeze your waist before lowering you.

"I guess that means you like it," he says, red-faced. You pull back, embarrassed at your overzealous response.

Shawn and his dad are very similar in their looks. Except Shawn is clean-shaven while Joel has a beard and Shawn's eyes are hazel like his mom's while Joel's are the darkest brown you've ever seen. You've never really noticed how dark until this very moment.

You shoot him a cheery thank you again before smiling and skipping over to Shawn announcing that you'll unpack as well.

"You two enjoy, I gotta make a few calls but then we can head out to dinner."

"Sounds great," Shawn says as he searches for his phone charger.

Joel closes the door behind him and you turn to your boyfriend. You can't explain it but you feel turned on. The Hawaiian air must be doing something to you because

You crawl towards where he kneels unpacking. You grin, feeling the pulse of desire hitting you below the navel. You kneel beside him, dropping your voice to a husky murmur.

"Should we break the bed in?"

An hour later the three of you are sitting at a local eatery. Joel and Shawn are talking with one another while you scan the busy restaurant.

Couples, families, all laughing and cheerful. And why wouldn't they? This is Paradise after all. But you don't feel anything like it, if anything, you feel like a little black rain cloud.

Shawn turned down your earlier advances, citing that he was too tired. The problem is for the past three months Shawn has been too tired most of the time. At first he blamed grad school but when you pointed out he still made lots of time for gaming with best friends Brian and Kevin he'd been quick to explain that gaming relaxed him.

That conversation had gone over about as well as a turd in the punch bowl. You remember being so hurt at what you felt was a slight against you. Weren't you relaxing? Weren't you something that made him happy?

So yeah, you had hoped that this little vacation might stir some of that old spark back. But maybe you were too eager. You had just arrived at the place after all. Maybe you were being unfair. Still, the rejection stung.

"Thought we could do all the tourist-y shit while we're here," Joel says after you've all placed your orders. "Luau, sunset cruise."

"Snorkelling?" Shawn offers.

"Hell yes," Joel nods grinning. "ATV tour too."

The Millers like to have fun. They also like to keep busy. It's like second nature to them to be off on adventures or activities. You meanwhile plan on spending lots of time by the pool or the beach, reading and drinking.

"What about you, darlin'?" Joel asks between sips of whisky. "What're you hopin' to do?"

You know exactly what. The thing you've been dying to do since you were a kid at the aquarium.

"I wanna swim with the turtles."

Shawn bursts into amused laughter beside you, and if you weren't already irritated with him before, you certainly are now. He grins at you not understanding that you're secretly furious with him.

"Turtles? Really?"

"What's wrong with turtles?"

"Seems kinda babyish doesn't it?"

"What's babyish about liking animals?" Joel cuts in. "You forgetting about the time we wouldn't let you in the petting zoo and you threw your shoe at me?"

"I was five, dad."

"Yeah well, some things don't change," Joel says with a smirk. "Still throwin' tantrums when you don't get your way."

"Fuck off old man," Shawn says through chuckles. “Don’t forget I’m your only child. I pick which retirement home I’m gonna stick you in when your mind goes.”

“Little bastard,” Joel mutters, trying to hold back a loud laugh.

He settles for tossing a drink umbrella in Shawn’s direction, chuckling when Shawn dodges it easily. You can't help but laugh along with him, your bad mood fading.

By the time dessert arrives you're all several glasses of wine in reminiscing about Shawn's last attempt at surfing.

"I've gotten better," he exclaims. “I swear.”

"Yeah well we'll see about that," Joel says paying the check. "Alright team, let's head back and get some shut eye. This old man needs it."

You roll your eyes at that. Joel isn't even fifty and even if he was he's about the best looking man his age bracket and younger. You've seen the way women stare at him, whispering, blushing when he looks their way. He is not what you’d qualify as old.

The three of you arrive back at the unit to the sound of nighttime creatures croaking and buzzing.

"Alright I'll meet you two out here tomorrow morning around nine. We can go to the excursion desk and plan the week. Sound good?"

"Sounds good, night Dad."

"Night Joel."

The three of you part ways into the opposite bedrooms. Shawn nuzzles your neck gently kissing there. He always does that when he's been drinking. You smile delightedly at this, eager to get into bed.

When the lights are off and the two of you have slipped off your clothes and under the covers you roll towards him, peppering his face with soft kisses.

"It's late, babe," he murmurs, kissing you sweetly but with finality.

"We're on vacation," you remind him, slipping your hand under his boxers.

You feel him slowly start to harden in your grip. You hear his breath hitch and you smile, knowing those sounds so intimately. You tug off your panties and slide onto his lap, preparing to ride him.

"Fuck me," you whisper, hips grinding against his. "Wanna feel your cock in me."

“Baby, no.”

Shawn pulls you off of him and you tumble into the bed next to him, feeling your cheeks grow hot with humiliation.

"My dad is right across the hall," Shawn hisses. “I don’t want him hearing us.”

Rejection never sits well with you and immediately you feel yourself growing defensive.

"You're dad is gonna be across the hall the whole week, Shawn,” you whisper angrily. “So what, we're not going to have fuck this entire trip?"

"We'll have sex," Shawn said rolling his eyes. "Just not when my dad is ten feet away sharing a fuckin' bathroom with us."

Bullshit. Another excuse to put off the intimacy that’s been dwindling for months. You push yourself from the bed, tugging on your dress from earlier. Shawn leans up on his elbows, giving you a look of concern.

"Where are you going?"

"A walk."

"I'll c---"

"No," you say sharp as a knife. "I want to go alone."

You stalk out of the house, eyes glossy with hurt and anger. That's the thing they don't tell you about relationships that have gone on so long -- both partners need to work to keep the fires going.

You make your way to the beach along the softly lit pathway. Its well after midnight and the resort is quiet; the lights dimmed or off entirely. You take a seat on a nearby rock, listening to the gentle sound of the evening waters lapping by the shore. You're very excited to go swimming tomorrow. To feel the warm sand underneath your feet.

You can hear noise coming from the far end of the resort. You remember over dinner Joel going through the resort map on his phone, letting you know what amenities they had. He had told you both about the dance club the resort had.

Shawn had immediately laughed, stating that he’d take a pass on it. Shawn hates dancing. You tried to get him to do dance lessons with you once but he wouldn't even give it a shot.

Right now it seems all you can do is focus on Sean's flaws. You know that he's a decent man, you know the treats you well, but there are these bugaboos these irritants that can't help frustrate you right now.

"Fuck it," you murmur to yourself, raising yourself from the sand and brushing it from your sundress. You follow the sound of the music, stopping in front of a door with blinking lights. A man in a blue Hawaiian shirt smiles at you when you approach.

"Aloha, may I ask your Unit number?"

"Number 4, under Miller."

The man types into his computer before nodding, opening the door for you. You step into the darkness, letting your eyes adjust to the blue lights and colourful dance floor. The speakers are playing typical vacation music with a heavy bass.

Bodies writhe on the dance floor, half naked in revealing dresses or in the men's case, unbuttoned shirts. You order a drink at the bar, taking it with you as you scout the area for a free chair. A hand on your wrist surprises you.

"Joel?"

Joel is seated at one of the small circle tables nursing what appears to be a tumbler of Scotch. He motions for you to take the free chair next to him and you do gratefully falling into it, your arm bumping his.

"What are you doin' here? Since when does Shawn dance?" He asks over the bass, grinning. He looks a bit tipsy, his neck red.

"He doesn't, I'm here alone. I needed to blow off some steam," you tell him over the music.

"Me too," he says loudly back. "Couldn't sleep. Too excited, I guess."

You nod, looking back at the dance floor wistfully. Everyone looks like they're having such a fun time, their worries and concerns far away from them as they undulate to the rhythm of the music. Joel takes another sip of his drink, watching you from the corner of his eyes.

You wish Shawn was here with you, you wish he was spinning you around on the dance floor. You wish it was like those early years where you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

"You and Shawn doin' okay?"

Joel's voice cuts into your confusing thoughts. You glance his way.

"Why do you ask?"

"Cuz I'm a dad," Joel. "And I've been married. And I know what tension between two people looks like."

You sigh heavily, your mind drifting to earlier. You don’t answer Joel because what would you tell him? You can’t tell your boyfriend’s dad that you’re worried his son is growing distant. You can’t tell him that your sex life has been disintegrating for the past several months. Instead you just shrug.

"You two talked about marriage?"

"What? No.”

You and Shawn have been together a long time, but you have no intention of settling down anytime soon. Sean is still doing his masters and you're loving your job at the museum.

"Good. No, not like that," Joel amends when he sees your stricken expression. "I just mean you're both so young."

"You were younger than us when you got married.”

"Yeah and look where that got me," he says with a scoff.

"Yeah, well, I think it's just been a long time and we're hitting a rough patch. Nothing we can't overcome," you add quickly. "It's just hard sometimes, you know?"

"Yeah," Joel nods. "I know."

The two of you lapse into silence, watching the twirling, shouting, laughing people swan around you. You shouldn’t be glum, you should be experiencing life!

"You wanna dance?"

His voice is low and husky in your ear. You start, surprised to see Joel inches from your face. You know he's speaking so close to you because it's so loud in here, but it doesn't stop your pulse from ticking at the shock.

"Don't really know how.”

"Shit reason. C'mon."

Joel throws back the rest of his drink and drags you onto the dance floor. You laugh as he spins you, both of you almost knocking into an older couple who are taking the dance very seriously. They shoot you both a nasty look and you and Joel have to work hard to muffle your laughter.

"You're gonna get us kicked out!"

"Nah," Joel shakes his head, spinning you again but closer to him. "I'm too charmin’."

"You think pretty highly of yourself don't you?"

Joel shrugs, laughing as the song ends. Another quick one begins and Joel looks serious.

"I'm gonna teach you some moves Shawn's mom taught me."

"Okay."

You're surprised, he doesn't really mention Shawn's mother very often.

You watch as Joel attempts to teach you some simple dance moves. You don't know if it's the stuffy club, the drinks running through your veins or the fact that you're dancing with your boyfriend's dad, but you can't really focus on the steps.

"I give up," you moan after the fifth failed attempt at a two-step.

"You ain't a quitter," Joel assures you, trying to spin you slowly so you can get your footing.

You never realized that Joel was such a good dancer. Watching him move his tall body is strangely hypnotizing, mainly because you never expected a man that broad and muscular to move so fluidly.

"Atta girl," he says proudly when you get some of the footing correct.

You smirk when you see the women nearby watching him, shooting him smiles. But his focus is on you, teaching you the moves and assuring you: it's alright darlin', we'll get you there just take your time.

You're having so much fun with him you barely realize that an hour has gone by and you can only tell when you realize the back of your neck is damp with sweat.

You're about to announce your heading back to the unit when the beat slows and many trickle off the dance floor. It's a slow song, and only the couples remain in the glowing dance floor.

You go to step off when you feel Joel spin you again, back into his arms. You smile breathlessly up at him, the two of you shiny from perspiration from the dancing and the warm crowded space.

Joel is looking at you strangely, his eyes luminous in the reflection of the twinkling club lights. When he slides a hand at your lower back and urges your hands around his neck you don't hesitate. You lace your fingers there, shifting from foot to foot.

You feel strange to be dancing with Joel. And not because he makes you feel uncomfortable, it's the opposite, actually. You feel almost too comfortable. Joel’s eyes are trailing over your face, sometimes highlighted by the flash of the DJ’s lights.

“You talked to Shawn about all that’s botherin’ you and this rough patch?” Joel asks out of nowhere.

He looks vulnerable; unlike the Joel you know who is all smiles and jokes.

“Kinda,” you say shyly, looking over his shoulder. “It’s just hard. . . We can both get pretty defensive. Plus, I wonder if I’m maybe being unfair. He’s in school and everything.”

“Uh huh, and you started that museum job didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Pretty demanding job, ain’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Joel gives you a look as he rocks you both from side to side

“Can I say somethin’ you might not wanna hear?”

You nod.

“In my experience, it takes two people to make a relationship. Not one puttin’ in all the effort while the other one has his or her head in the sand.”

You nod slowly, absorbing his words. The song ends and Joel releases his hands you’re your waist before he announces he has to hit the washroom. You head to the bar for a glass of water and to wait for him.

"Hi beautiful."

An Australian man around Joel's age with a moustache is leaning against the bar next to you. His eyes are bleary and red-rimmed, his cheeks ruddy. He’s obviously very drunk. You give a forced smile before going back to wait for your water.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"No thanks," you answer quickly. "Just getting water."

"How about a dance then?"

"I'm good," you say forcing a polite smile. You’re facing away from him, eyes on the bartender hoping he notices you.

"C'mon beautiful," the man insists, eyes sliding over your chest in a very obvious way. "I'm a good dancer too. Could give you lots of lessons."

"She said no."

Joel's voice is there, having clearly come back from the bathroom. You step backwards and before you know it Joel is sliding his arm protectively around you. You glance up to see Joel's face contorted into a mask of fury. His teeth are bared like some wild animal and he grips you tightly to him.

"Sorry man," The guy says holding his hands up in surrender towards Joel. "Didn't know she was taken."

Joel sneers before leading you out of the club. The cool air is a welcome reprieve when you step outside, breathing deeply.

"That place is nothin' but perverts," Joel growls as the two of you make your way back along the beach in the direction of your unit.

"Joel, you were there," you say giggling. "That make you a pervert?"

"Ha ha."

You walk quietly along the shoreline, confused as to how you can feel this good when just an hour ago it felt like everything was falling apart. Maybe it’s the drink in your veins, maybe its Hawaii, or maybe it’s just Joel.

"Watch it--"

Joel takes your hand when you stumble over a rock in the semi darkness. You let him, not dropping it even when your walking evens out. It feels nice to walk hand in hand with him, it feels safe. He doesn't let go of your hand either as you continue along, your shoes making dual footprints in the sand.

"Thanks for in there," you say. “I hate creepy guys like that.”

"Was nothin'," he says, then he drops your hand after a moment. "Shawn would have done the same."

"No, he wouldn't have."

It slips out before you can stop yourself. Joel stops in the sand, his concern there in his face. It’s clear that what you’ve said has upset him.

"What?"

"He doesn't like confrontation, you know that," you say with a shrug. "And I like that about him."

"You do?" Joel challenges. "Really?"

"Sometimes."

Honestly you’ve never enjoyed the men who start fights for no reason, who act like cavemen when someone looks at their girlfriend. Shawn is too smart for that, too above it to engage with assholes like that. But you have to admit that there was a part of you that found Joel’s actions inside the club to be a bit attractive. Is that the word? Would you really call your boyfriend’s father attractive?

You look at him standing there, his grey t-shirt clinging to his muscles and wide shoulders, the muscular thighs in denim and you think, fuck, yeah he is attractive. You knew he wasn’t ugly, you’d just never looked at him like that. Like he was a man outside of being Shawn’s dad.

"I come from a time when you take care of what's yours." Joel runs a hand through his messy curls. "If you were mine I wouldn't let anyone talk to you the way that man did, let alone touch you."

If you were mine.

You can't understand why but you're nipples tighten under your dress at those words. The possessiveness in Joel's voice is so dark and husky. He’s looking off into the dark like he’s really upset.

"If I was yours," you murmur.

His glazed eyes move from the beach over to your face. You’re standing so close to one another and you can see his chest rising and falling quickly as he breathes. His scotch-coated breath huffs over your cheeks and you swear you’re getting drunker just inhaling it.

You must be, because why else would you be putting your hands on his shoulders. Why else would you be pressing your mouth to his? Why else would you be tracing his plush lips with your tongue and whimpering when he groans into your parted mouth?

And he must be drunk because he doesn’t pull away or hesitate. He dips his head and his hands wrap around your waist, bringing your body against him tightly. His palms slide over your skin, desperate to touch you everywhere as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. You welcome it, going gooey in his arms, allowing him to take what he wants from you.

He’s so fucking broad, so strong, so masculine. You gasp into his mouth when he grips your ass with his big hands, pulling your hips against his, circling them as he kisses you. You feel his hardened cock through the layers of fabric, straining against the zipper of his jeans, desperate to bury itself in your slick heat.

To be desired like this feels powerful. It feels like years since Shawn wanted you like this much. It makes you lean more into Joel, desperate to keep the sensation going. His hands are sliding under your dress, up your silken thigh and you tremble.

A splash sounds nearby in the water, a fish or something startling you both and you simultaneously break apart. You both take a step back from one another in the sand, eyes wide. Joel looks completely crazed.

“The fuck—what are we doin’?” Joel whispers, the regret clear in both your faces.

You bring your trembling hands to your warm cheeks and tears immediately spring to your waterline.

What have you just done?

“Oh my fuck, no no, I don’t – I don’t know why-“

You bend at the waist, hands braced on your knees as you start to hyperventilate. Joel is pacing up and down the sand, his silhouette barely seen in the darkness of night. You can see his feet pacing back and forth. . . back and forth . . . He stops when you let out a hiccup, on the verge of throwing up.

“Honey stop,” Joel says, a hand on your back, rubbing gently along your spine. “Calm down. Calm down, its okay.”

“I don’t know why I did that,” you say, tears streaming down your face and dropping into the sand below. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“S’not your fault,” Joel says, his voice even and calm. It makes you feel calm. And yet, guilt still bubbles up in your lungs, making a small sob escape.

“I have to—you need to—I need to tell Shawn. Right now.”

“Hold on,” Joel says roughly, gripping you by the shoulder and urging you to stand. He peers into your face with a grim expression.

“You cannot tell Shawn anythin’.”

“I have to,” you whine.

“It’ll just hurt him,” Joel insists, nodding and hoping you’ll do the same. “It was a mistake. It was nothing, it was just the booze. We just drank too much and we were all hopped up on that asshole inside the club and we weren’t thinkin’.”

“Right,” you agree, relief sliding through every vein you possess as he lays it out for you. “That’s totally what it was. The drinking. We’re drunk.”

“Completely.”

“Okay. Good.”

You’re still shaken up by what just happened, still tipsy from the drinks. Joel runs an anxious hand through his curls, looking utterly wrecked.

“Let’s go back.”

The two of you walk the rest of the way back in silence. You still cannot believe what you did. You kissed your boyfriend’s father. You kissed him and he kissed you back. Fuck, you both must be utterly wasted. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll both forget it even happened. You would welcome the hangover from hell if it could erase the last fifteen minutes from both your minds for good.

Joel tugs open the sliding glass door, not able to look at you as you both pad towards the opposing doors. You glance over your shoulder to see Joel staring at you as you enter the bedroom where his son sleeps. You give him a sorrowful smile before closing the door.

You crawl under the covers, thankful that Shawn is asleep. You slip off the dress, your hair wild from dancing, your skin sticky with sweat, and your mouth still tasting of scotch. Your cunt flutters at the memory of the noises he made.

You roll onto your side, trying to drift to sleep. Shawn, still half-slumbering snuggles up against your back. His arm slips over your waist and he holds you, as he often holds you back home, gentle and tender and full of love.

“I’m sorry about before, babe,” he murmurs into your hair.

You feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You blink rapidly, closing your eyes and trying to swallow the guilt.

You know that Joel is in his bed right now similarly afflicted, thinking about how he did something so unforgivable and to his own son. Joel is the kindest dad you know; he loves his son more than anything. You know that what you both just did was awful and disgusting.

You also know that there is something deeply wrong with you because as you lay there in Shawn’s arms your pussy floods with memories of his father’s mouth on yours still vivid in your mind.

do you guys want more of this? or should it be a one-shot? also trying a new aesthetic what do we tthink?

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x oc #joel the last of us #tlou joel #joel miller x original character #au joel miller #bdf!joel #but the dbf stands for boyfriend's dad #joel miller x you

823 notes · View notes

2tarbell · 3 months ago

Note

does twee have a job??? i know you mentioned her being pogue turned kook, im wondering if she’s kept a job she had as a pogue 🤭….

TWEE!READER who is a cart girl! she started the job right before her father came into money and wanted to keep it. mainly because she misses the pogue lifestyle and working makes her feel less guilty about now living in a nice house.

she receives a lot of tips because the players think she’s the cutest thing! rambunctious and teasing, having inside jokes with all the members. in her little cart girl uniform, tight polo and pleated skirt. her striped socks and maryjane’s. hair always done up in some cute style. she’s a natural born people pleaser and can happily stay afloat in the midst of these golf playing men. but only because she doesn’t entertain their foul intentions, too naive to assume anything bad.

but she actually met rafe after her shift ended, parking the cart back in its ‘home’ and gathering her things. he’s just leaving when he passes her by, having been in the carolina sun all day golfing with his boys. they’ve since left and he found himself lingering just a bit more, hoping to catch that cute cart girl he saw at the ninth hole.

he’s handsome, that’s the first thing she notices. and her mind races, hoping to maybe see him on her shift tomorrow. the daydreaming causes her to trip. thankfully, she caught herself before eating shit, not without attracting the attention of the cameron boy, though. his hands shooting out to her shoulders and steadying her.

“you good?”

she smiles sheepishly, smoothing down her hair. twee nods and looks down at her shoes, frowning at the scuff on the leather of her new shoes. goddamnit. when she looks up at him again, eyes squinting in the setting sun, rafe feels his own smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

“sorry— was just… thinking…” she trails off slightly.

rafe actually huffs out a laugh, and she becomes more embarrassed than before. her grimace makes his grin soften.

“don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah? s’all good.”

her little grin is adorable and rafe trails his eyes down her body when she turns to retrieve something from her cart. miles of smooth skin disappearing underneath that short skirt, he can just barely see the lace edge of her panties, until her dainty hand reaches back and pulls the skirt down a little.

“glad you caught me then—“

his eyes snap up back to hers when she turns around with what he assumes is her purse, smirking and crossing his arms. her playfulness isn’t lost on rafe and he finds himself reciprocating, flirting.

“oh, so it’s a habit of yours to trip into eligible bachelors?”

she giggles and rafe knows he’s in.

he sets his jaw, noticing her looking up at him through those dark lashes. she leans back against the cart and crosses one ankle over the other. rafe’s eyes are drawn to the movement and trail slowly up her legs. when he meets her eyes again, she has a knowing smile on her cute face.

“bet you, uh, get a lotta these dudes in trouble, huh?”

the way she cocks her head to the side, an innocent gleam in her eyes, makes his shorts feel just that much tighter. her voice is soft and unsure when she replies, “whaddaya mean?”

rafe shrugs, smiling lazily and scratching his ear. “pretty thing like you workin’ here… dunno, ‘m sure it makes it hard to focus on golf…”

her huff paired with an eye roll makes his chest swell. he can see the smile she’s biting back and chuckles, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“y’know i— i gotta see you somewhere other than here, if you wanna…” he mumbles lowly, holding the device out.

“y’gonna get me fired, rafe…” she teases.

his name has never sounded so good. rafe places his other hand hand over his heart, grinning at the giggle she lets out at his dramatic gesture.

“i promise, kid, swear on m’life. just one date?”

he’s putting on the works, he knows; charming smirk and narrowing eyes. but, twee is just a girl, in every sense of the word. so when she walks off after giving him her number, hundred dollar tip the handsome boy said was ‘all f’you’ tucked into her bra strap and a promise to text him her work schedule, she can’t hide the smile growing on her face.

rafe can’t hide his either, shaking his head and stuffing his phone back in the pocket of his golf shorts. walking out to his truck, he can’t think of anything else but the apple hairclip she was wearing and that little grin that made his heart stutter.

#twee!reader #fanfic #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe obx #obx smut #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx imagine

730 notes · View notes

vainvenus · 8 months ago

Text

⌲;꒰ Pretty please!! ꒱

Characters :: John "B" Routledge, JJ Maybank, Pope Heyward, Rafe Cameron.

Synopsis :: You ask your boyfriend to do a simple task for you just to see if he will.

Includings :: Short drabbles, established relationships, acts of service, nicknames, just lots of fluff, maybe ooc Rafe

An :: Just because I think this trend is adorable

« J. Routledge »

"JB, can you pick out the pomegranate seeds for me? I don't like how sticky it is."

John B glanced back over at you as he stated at the Pomegranate and his lips press together in a thin line.

"Why didn't you get it in the cups? Where it's already all seeds?" He asks and you shrug, still holding the fruit out.

"It's sweeter this way. Please?"

He doesn't want to do it, not because he just doesn't want to; but because he doesn't really know how to peel a pomegranate.

But he nods with a smile as he grabs it from you and moves to grab the cutting board. "Of course, baby."

|★|

« J. Maybank »

"JJ can you pretty please with cherries on top peel this orange for me?"

JJ chuckles a bit as he raises his brows in slight amusement, tilting his head towards you.

"What? Can't peel it on your own?"

He snickers, sort of making fun of you and you just shrug, holding it out to him again and he rolls his eyes playfully as he takes it from you.

He digs his nails into the skin of the fruit as he peels it back. He's a bit messy with it, but he gets the job done.

He takes one of the slices, popping it into his mouth and hands you the rest.

"There. Is there anything else of yours that I can peel off?"

|★|

« P. Heyward »

"Pope! Tie my shoe, please."

"Of course." Pope hums and stops right in his tracks, he doesn't even question it or give you a confused look.

He gets down on his knees, patting one for you to place your shoe on his knee and he brings your hand to his shoulder to use as leverage.

He smiles as he ties your shoe, a simple task that he knows you could have done yourself but he doesn't mind doing it for you.

He taps your other shoe so both of them are tied the same and have less of a chance of untying without you even having to say anything.

He finished both shoes and dusts off his knees as he grabs your hand, entwining it with his and he places a kiss on your temple.

"There. Anything else you need?"

|★|

« R. Cameron »

"Rafee! Can you reapply my lipgloss?"

Rafe looks over at you, not quite hearing you the first time so he walks over to you, leaning his golf club against the golf cart where your seated.

"What was that, princess?" He hums when he finally got close enough and you hold out your [f/color] lipgloss tube.

"I asked if you could reapply my lipgloss for me."

He's amused and a bit astonished at your request because it's so simple for you to do it yourself. He even narrows his gaze at you a little bit and you only smile.

"Are you fucking with me?"

"So is that a no?"

He inhales deeply and sighs, grabbing it from you. "Fine."

Rafe grabs your face softly to tilt your head up as you pucker your lips at him and he applies the lipgloss to your top and bottom lip in a fresh glossy coat.

"There. All better now?"

You nod, smiling and he can't help but smile back as he places a kiss on your lips and you groan that he messed it up.

He only shrugs and leans back in for another.

#obx x reader #obx drabble #john b routledge #john b x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank drabble #pope heyward #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward drabble #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron drabble

927 notes · View notes

bloodibambiidoll · 5 months ago

Note

love love love the rafe cameron x weirdgirl!reader au!! imagine reader at the country club overhearing some mean boys making fun of her and how rafe is crazy to date someone like her :(( she stays in her room after hearing this and rafe catches her biting herself and crying (she normally bites him but after hearing this she feels like she can’t) oh my heart-

No bc this is like sooo perfect. This is literally so her. I’ve been having a lot of fun coming up with lore for her so I’m so glad you’re liking her so far!! Warnings: (I’d like to note that weird girl is autistic coded bc I am autistic), Reader gets her feelings hurt, protective Rafe, biting 18+MNDI!! Part of this AU

“Yeah dude, she’s like so hot until she opens her mouth.” Your footsteps come to a sudden halt, your shiny black Mary Jane’s squeaking against the polished wooden floors of the country club. There’s a group of guys about your age standing around the corner in a circle all snickering to each other.

“No, yeah, like she says the fucking weirdest shit in that creepy little monotone voice. I have no idea how Rafe puts up with it.”

“The pussy must be out of this world or some shit because I would never be able to handle that. I saw her last week on the beach collecting animal bones or some shit bro. Bet she went back to check on her kill.” The entire group starts busting up laughing just as you feel hot tears start to stream down your cheeks. You just want to leave but they are blocking the only path to the door so you suck it up and high tail it as fast as you past them.

You were waiting for Rafe to be done with his game of golf but after that? You really didn’t want to bother him with wanting to leave early so you decided to just walk the mile and a half home. If you were lucky maybe you’d run into the neighborhood cat you befriended and he would walk part of the way with you.

When you get home you rush up the stairs and into your room, slamming the door behind you. Your head is swimming with negative thoughts. You were always scared you were too weird for Rafe, too much, too different from him. So when you hear guys he hangs around saying things like that about you? It’s hard to not let it get to your head.

You kick off your shoes and practically tear off the cute outfit you spent over an hour putting together. You grab your pink fuzzy robe, and walk over to your bunny’s cage, smiling down at her with watery eyes.

“I think you’re the only one that really understands me, Lydia.” Your bottom lip wobbles as you pick her up and walk over to your bed. You rock back and forth slightly as you caress her fur, trying to self soothe. You’re realizing in this moment that maybe you really are too much for Rafe because you hardly remember how to calm yourself down without him.

You wish so badly that he was here. You know he would hold you tight and let you sink your teeth into him until your tears stopped flowing. It seems to be one of the only things that truly calms you down so you decide to bring your own hand up to your mouth and bite down on it. It soothes you a little, but it isn’t Rafe. He’s called you a few times but you just let it ring, he’s probably worried, but you’re too embarrassed to pick up.

“Baby? Are you here?” The minute you hear Rafe’s voice you want to run to him, but the words of the boys at the country club playing in your head on repeat in your head cements you in place. “Bats?”

When he opens your bedroom door and takes in the sight of you his heart sinks.

“Baby girl, what’s going on? What happened? Where did you go? You scared the shit outta me.” He rushes over to you, coming to sit next to you on your bed. He rests his large hands on your calves and rubs soothing circles on your skin with the pads of his thumbs. You whimper and shake your head, your mouth still latched onto your hand. “Batty, you’ve gotta talk to me, okay? Tell me what’s going on.”

“I was…” You pull your hand away from your face, resting it on Lydia’s back as you pet her softly, the feeling of her fur grounding you. “I was coming back from the bathroom and I heard Jake and those guys… talking about me.”

“What about you?” Rafe’s voice takes on a protective tone, especially when another fit of sobs erupts through you. He hooks his arms under you so he can pull you and your bunny softly into his lap. “Princess. Tell me what they said.”

“They said - they said that they don’t know how you put up with me because I’m so weird and that you’re probably only with me because the pussy is good.” You sniffle as your tears continue to fall and if Rafe didn’t know you needed him right now he would be on his way back to the club to beat all of their asses until they couldn’t walk.

“Hey, hey, nah, none of that.” He cups your face in his hand, wiping away your tears. “You know I love you, all your weird shit and all. I’m not ‘putting up’ with you, I fuckin’ love your weird little ass.”

“They also… they also said that - that I probably kill animals…” You start sobbing again and Rafe’s entire body tenses. He knows how much you love animals, how important they are to you. He wants to fucking rip their throats out.

“Princess… I’m so sorry they said that. They just don’t know you, aight? You’d never harm a fly. Don’t let that shit get to you. I know it’s hard, but fuck em, they don’t know fuckin’ shit about my baby.” He gives you a reassuring smile as he wipes away some of your remaining tears. His hand swipes past your lips and you turn your head slightly to sink your teeth into it. He chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “There’s my weird girl.”

#rafe #Rafe Cameron #rafe concepts #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe blurb #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfiction #rafe fluff #weird girl!reader

791 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

Text

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

115 notes · View notes

enemiestolovershoe · 17 days ago

Note

Heii babeee. Can you please do a Rafe Cameron x enemies!reader? They are both well known people on Figure 8 but hat each other but one evening at a gala or something they fight and end up fucking in the bathroom. Maybe Ward and readers dad catches them in the end?

Entangled with the Enemy

Rafe Cameron x enemie!reader

Words: 4k

Summary: a heated rivalry ignites passion during a gala, revealing hidden desires.

Ever since you could remember, Rafe Cameron had been a thorn in your side. It wasn’t just a passing annoyance—no, it was a deep-rooted rivalry that had started long before either of you understood the complexities of disdain. It began at the country club when you were both barely old enough to hold a golf club. He had knocked over your lemonade in the clubhouse, laughing in that irritating way that only a spoiled rich kid could. You had retaliated by stepping on his foot with your newly polished shoes, which led to a shouting match that had every adult in the room glancing disapprovingly in your direction.

You hated him then. You hated him now.

Years later, not much had changed between you. If anything, the rivalry had only grown stronger, more venomous, as you both became fixtures in Figure 8’s elite social scene. Wherever you were, Rafe wasn’t far behind, and the feeling of mutual loathing had followed you through middle school, high school, and now, even into your early twenties.

Everyone in Figure 8 knew of your animosity. Some thought it was amusing—two golden children of Kildare’s wealthiest families constantly at each other’s throats. Others whispered, wondering if there wasn’t something else lurking beneath all that hatred, but you always scoffed at the idea.

Tonight was no different.

The annual Figure 8 Gala was a glamorous event, one that drew all the old-money families out of their grand estates and onto the dance floor, where champagne flowed like water and gossip circulated in hushed, excited tones. You stood near the bar, wearing a sleek black dress that made you look effortlessly elegant. You had a glass of wine in your hand, but you weren’t drinking much. Instead, your eyes flitted over the crowd, looking for an exit. As much as you tried to tolerate these events, they always left you feeling restless.

Just as you took a sip, you heard that all-too-familiar voice behind you.

“Surprised to see you here. Didn’t think this was your scene anymore,” Rafe sneered, his presence commanding attention without even trying.

You set your glass down on the bar, not turning around yet. The tension between you two was palpable, even before you exchanged a single glance.

“Rafe, are you stalking me now, or is it just that you have nothing better to do with your life?” you retorted, finallyspinning around to face him.

He looked infuriatingly good, dressed in a tailored black suit that highlighted his broad shoulders and sharp jawline. His eyes, blue and piercing, studied you for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Always the charming one,” he said mockingly, stepping closer. “Remind me, how many years have you been trying to get under my skin? I’m starting to lose count.”

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him intimidate you. “I don’t have to try. You make it way too easy.”

Rafe chuckled, a low sound that made your skin prickle with annoyance. “Oh, trust me, princess, you’ve been trying. Ever since we were kids.”

At that, your glare sharpened. "Please. If anyone’s been obsessed with the past, it’s you. I’ve moved on from our childish nonsense a long time ago.”

“Right,” he drawled, raising an eyebrow. “That’s why you’re standing here, looking like you’re about to snap my neck just because I’m breathing in the same room as you.”

“I’m standing here because I’m trying to enjoy my night without you ruining it,” you shot back, voice icy. “But clearly, that’s asking for too much.”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your ear. “You’re enjoying this just as much as I am.”

You pulled back immediately, staring at him like he’d just insulted you. “You’re delusional if you think I enjoy anything about you.”

Rafe tilted his head, considering you with a smug look that only made your blood boil more. “You used to care what I thought. Back in the day. Admit it.”

You scoffed, brushing past him, though he was quick to catch up, his long strides keeping him close. “I never cared about your opinion, Rafe. You’ve always been a spoiled, arrogant—”

“Rich boy?” he finished for you, a sarcastic glint in his eyes. “You keep throwing that around like it’s supposed to insult me.”

“It’s not an insult,” you replied, your voice low but steady. “It’s a fact.”

He stopped in front of you, blocking your path. The tension between you both was starting to draw attention from the surrounding party-goers, who were now casting curious glances in your direction. Some even whispered to one another, probably amused at the latest chapter in the saga of Rafe Cameron vs. You.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Rafe’s question came suddenly, his tone different—less mocking, more…curious. His brow furrowed as if he genuinely wanted to know the answer. “What is it, huh?”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown by the shift in his attitude. “I—what?”

“You heard me,” he said, taking a step closer, his voice dropping. “Why do you hate me? Because, from where I’m standing, it feels like you put more effort into this than necessary. I know I’m not the nicest guy around, but…” He trailed off, watching you with a sharpness that you hadn’t seen before. It was unnerving.

You swallowed hard, straightening your posture as you searched for a retort. You couldn’t let him get to you. Not like this. “It’s easy to hate you, Rafe. You make it easy.”

He nodded slowly, as if contemplating your words. His lips twitched, forming a tight smile. “Because it’s easier to hate me than admit anything else, right?”

“What the hell does that mean?” you snapped, suddenly defensive.

“It means,” Rafe started, closing the distance between you again, his voice lowering to a near whisper, “you spend so much time convincing yourself that I’m the problem, but maybe the problem is you can’t stand the fact that we’re more alike than you want to admit.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but nothing came out. For a split second, his words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a vice. The tension between you two felt different, heavier, like it was building toward something neither of you could control.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you finally managed to say, though your voice lacked the usual venom.

His smirk returned, but there was something else behind it now. Something almost…challenging. “Oh, I don’t have to. You’re already thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“I’m not thinking about anything except how to get away from you,” you shot back, turning on your heel to leave. But his hand caught your wrist, stopping you.

“Funny,” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing. “Because every time you walk away, you always come back.”

A rush of frustration surged through you, his words clawing at something deeper, something you hadn’t been willing to admit for a long time. Maybe it was the constant proximity, maybe it was the years of bickering, or maybe it was the way he stood there, challenging you with every look, every smirk, every damn word. You felt your pulse quicken, your heart hammering in your chest as the room seemed to grow smaller.

You exhaled sharply, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, overwhelming you.

"Fuck this," you muttered under your breath.

Without giving yourself time to think—or regret—you grabbed Rafe by the front of his jacket and pulled him with you, weaving through the crowd. You didn’t know where you were going at first, but the second you spotted the nearest bathroom, you headed straight for it. Your heels clicked furiously against the polished floor as Rafe followed, clearly taken by surprise but not resisting.

The bathroom door slammed behind you, not locking, but you didn’t care.

Before you could second-guess yourself, your hands gripped his collar, pulling him down as your lips crashed into his. It wasn’t gentle; it wasn’t careful. It was desperate, heated—years of tension and frustration finally spilling over.

Rafe groaned into your mouth, his hands immediately gripping your waist as if he’d been waiting for this moment just as much as you had. The kiss was fierce, all teeth and tongue, neither of you giving the other a moment to breathe.

“Always so dramatic,” Rafe muttered against your lips between heavy breaths, his fingers sliding up your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Shut up,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, wanting—needing—more.

He chuckled against your mouth, but the sound quickly turned into a low growl as his hands roamed down to your hips, gripping you with an intensity that made your legs feel weak.

Before you knew it, he lifted you effortlessly, your back pressing against the cool bathroom counter as he hoisted you up onto it. You gasped as the cold surface met your thighs, but the feeling was quickly replaced by the heat of his hands sliding up your legs, parting them with a slow, deliberate motion.

His lips were on your neck again, sucking and biting in a way that made it impossible to think straight. You could feel his breath hitch as he pressed harder into you, his body flush against yours.

“You’re not gonna stop me this time, are you?” Rafe’s voice was rough, low, almost daring you to push him away.

“Try me,” you muttered, breathless, your nails digging into his shoulders as you pulled him closer.

Rafe smirked, his eyes dark with something more than just arrogance. His hands tightened around your waist as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours again. "I always knew you wanted me,” he whispered, his voice dripping with that familiar cockiness, but this time, you didn’t bother to deny it.

“You think too much,” you replied, your voice coming out in a breathy rush, and before he could respond, you crashed your lips into his again. This time, there was no holding back, no hesitation. Just pure, heated want.

He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips as his hands slid up the inside of your thighs, parting your legs even further. The counter pressed against your back, the cold contrast making the heat between your bodies even more intense.

Your heart raced as his touch became more insistent, his fingers digging into your skin like he couldn’t get enough of you. And you couldn’t get enough of him, either. Everything about this moment was wrong, but it felt so damn right.

You didn’t stop him. You didn’t want to.

You barely registered what you were doing as your fingers reached for the buttons of Rafe’s shirt, fumbling slightly in your haste to get it off. He broke the kiss for a brief second, just long enough to glance down at your hands before smirking. Without a word, he quickly helped you, undoing the buttons faster and shoving the fabric off his shoulders. His skin was warm beneath your touch, the heat of his body driving you crazy as your hands ran over the hard planes of his chest.

He didn’t waste any time either. His hands slid down your waist, rough and urgent, before they disappeared under your dress. With one swift motion, he pushed it up around your hips, his fingertips skimming over your thighs as he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties.

“Let’s get these off,” Rafe growled, voice thick with lust as he pulled them down in one quick motion, leaving you bare beneath him. He tossed them aside carelessly, his hands immediately returning to your thighs, spreading your legs wider.

You gasped, both from the sudden exposure and the way his touch sent a rush of heat pooling low in your belly. Your mind was spinning, caught somewhere between disbelief and pure, unfiltered desire. This was happening, and it was happening fast, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop it. Not when every touch, every breath, made your skin burn with need.

Rafe’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter, his body pressing firmly against yours. He took a moment to look down at you, his blue eyes darkened with lust, a cocky grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“I always knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with that same arrogant charm that had always made you want to slap him—except now, it made you want him even more.

“Shut up,” you breathed, your hands flying to his belt, desperate to unbuckle it and get it out of the way. The sound of the leather slipping free was loud in the small bathroom, but all you could focus on was the feel of his skin against yours as you finally managed to free him from his pants.

“Someone’s eager,” Rafe murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he kicked off his shoes and pushed his pants and boxers down in one swift movement.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your pulse racing as he pressed his hips against yours, the feel of him—hard and ready—against your entrance sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing.

His eyes met yours, the cocky grin gone, replaced by something far more intense. Without saying a word, he positioned himself between your legs, one hand gripping your thigh as the other lined himself up at your entrance. There was no warning, no teasing, just the raw, primal need driving both of you.

In one smooth thrust, he pushed inside, and both of you let out matching moans, the sound filling the small bathroom as your bodies collided.

“Fuck,” Rafe groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him deep inside you. His breath was hot against your neck, his grip on your hips tightening as he fought to keep himself under control.

You gasped, your nails digging into his bare shoulders as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. The stretch was intense, the pressure overwhelming, but it felt so good, too good. Your head fell back against the mirror behind you, your body arching against his as the tension in the air became almost unbearable.

“God, Rafe,” you whimpered, biting your lip as you tried to catch your breath. “Don’t stop.”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the look he gave you was pure hunger. “Wasn’t planning on it,” he growled, and with that, he started to move.

His thrusts were slow at first, controlled, as if he was savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him. But it wasn’t long before the pace quickened, the heat between you building with each movement. His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you against him with every thrust, his body driving into yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his voice rough and filled with raw desire. His lips found yours again, but this kiss was different—hotter, needier, all tongues and teeth as his hips snapped forward, hitting deeper every time.

You couldn’t hold back the moans that escaped your lips, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your nails dug into his back as you clung to him, your body rocking with his, matching his rhythm. It was fast, frantic, like you both needed this more than air.

“Rafe…” You breathed his name again, a plea, a warning. Your entire body was wound tight, the tension coiling low in your belly, threatening to snap at any moment.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice thick and strained as he drove into you harder, his forehead resting against yours. “Say my name.”

“Rafe,” you gasped, your voice breaking as another wave of pleasure crashed through you. You were close, so close, and he knew it.

“Good girl,” he muttered, his lips brushing against yours as he thrust deeper, the angle hitting just right, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. “You’re so fucking perfect like this.”

You could barely respond, too lost in the feeling of him inside you, the overwhelming sensation building with each thrust, each ragged breath. Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, as your nails raked down his back.

“Fuck, I’m close,” you managed to gasp, your head falling back as the pleasure built to a breaking point, your entire body trembling.

Rafe groaned in response, his thrusts becoming erratic, more desperate as he chased his own release. “Me too, baby,” he muttered against your skin, his voice strained. “Come for me.”

And that was all it took.

With one final, hard thrust, the tension inside you snapped, sending you over the edge. A moan tore from your lips, your entire body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed through you, overwhelming your senses.

Rafe wasn’t far behind. You felt him tense, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself inside you, groaning as he reached his own release. His breath was hot against your neck, his body pressed against yours as he rode out the last waves of pleasure, his hips moving in slow, lazy thrusts.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your ragged breathing, both of you trying to catch your breath as the intensity of what just happened settled between you.

Rafe pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he looked at you, a mixture of satisfaction and something else—something unreadable—in his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and still rough from exertion.

You nodded, still trying to process everything. “Yeah… more than okay,” you whispered, a small, breathless laugh escaping your lips.

Rafe smirked, that cocky grin you knew so well making its return. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.”

As the rush of the moment slowly faded, the sound of your combined heavy breathing filled the small space. Rafe’s hands still gripped your waist, his forehead resting against yours as both of you tried to come down from the intense high. Your skin was flushed, tingling from where he had touched you, the heat of your bodies still lingering in the air.

Neither of you said a word for a few moments, the silence stretching between you, filled with the weight of what had just happened. You were still perched on the counter, your dress bunched around your hips, both of you completely undressed, the reality of your situation slowly settling in.

Rafe leaned back slightly, his eyes scanning over your face as if trying to make sure this was all real. A small, cocky smile began to creep onto his lips. “That was… something,” he breathed, his thumb gently brushing against your thigh.

You couldn’t help but let out a small, breathless laugh, shaking your head as you tried to gather yourself. “Yeah,” you whispered, your own cheeks still burning, your heart racing for a whole new reason. “Something.”

Just as you were about to say more, the faint creak of the bathroom door opening snapped both of your heads toward the sound.

Panic hit you like a tidal wave, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes widened in horror. You had barely registered the fact that you were still practically naked, tangled in Rafe, when two familiar figures stepped into the bathroom—your dad and Ward Cameron.

The room seemed to freeze for a second. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you stared, wide-eyed, at the two men now standing in front of you. They didn’t even look surprised—more like they had walked in on something they’d been expecting all along.

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible, your face flushing even redder than it already was. You quickly moved to cover yourself, but it was too late. You’d been caught. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, mortification crashing over you like a wave.

Rafe, equally frozen for a moment, blinked before quickly stepping in front of you, blocking their view as much as possible. “Oh my god, Dad, get out!” he shouted, his voice louder than necessary, sounding more like a demand than a request.

Your dad chuckled first, breaking the silence with a deep, amused laugh that made your embarrassment ten times worse. He exchanged a look with Ward, who simply shook his head with a knowing smile, as if the two of them had been waiting for this moment.

“Well, look at that,” Ward said, his tone full of dry amusement as he turned to face Rafe. “Took you two long enough to finally get along.”

Rafe groaned in frustration, his face flushed as he tried to shield you from view, his hands scrambling to grab his discarded shirt. “Dad, seriously—get out!” he snapped again, his voice full of exasperation.

Your dad shook his head, still chuckling softly. “We’ll give you two a moment,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement as he turned around to leave. “But don’t take too long. The gala’s still going on, after all.”

Ward followed suit, giving one last look over his shoulder, an almost proud smirk on his face. “Nice work, son,” he said, before closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god, that did not just happen,” you muttered, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment. You could still hear the faint sound of their laughter echoing down the hallway.

Rafe let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s just… unreal,” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair, clearly as mortified as you were. “I can’t believe they—”

You cut him off with a shaky laugh, your hands still covering your face. “This is officially the worst way this could have ended.”

Rafe chuckled softly, clearly trying to shake off the awkwardness of the situation. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Yeah, well,” he murmured, his voice light and teasing, “at least they didn’t kill me.”

You let out a weak laugh, finally pulling your hands away from your face to look up at him. “Yet,” you replied, your voice dry as you shook your head. “They didn’t kill you yet.”

Rafe grinned down at you, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “Guess we’ll just have to see how long I can stay alive, huh?”

You laughed again, the tension between you easing just a little. Despite everything—the panic, the embarrassment—there was still that undeniable spark between you, something deeper that neither of you could ignore anymore. Whatever had happened tonight, it had changed everything.

“Let’s just… not talk about this,” you muttered, still trying to shake off the mortification as you grabbed for your clothes, ready to escape the bathroom as fast as possible.

“Deal,” Rafe agreed, already pulling his shirt back on, though his eyes lingered on you with that same heated intensity, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “For now.”

As you straightened your dress and gathered yourself, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, a part of you knowing that whatever came next between you and Rafe, it was going to be far from over.

77 notes · View notes

nooodlezzz · 1 month ago

Text

GORILLAZ HEADCANONS!!

I’m not very good at headcanons so bare with me 7w7

NOODLE

• When she wears watches she wears them upside down

• She likes to cut her own hair (once let 2D and Murdoc cut her hair but it turned out horrible and had to wear a hat for weeks.)

•Had a scene phase

•2D always makes her tea and she grew a sweet tooth for it

• after plastic beach and when she finally settled with the band for Humanz Russel, 2D, and Murdoc all got together to get her a pet cat as a gift (Aka Katsu)

•still makes the band tie his shoes (no matter how many times Noodle and Russel try to teach him he can’t figure it out)

•has a ton of collections of different things. Like rock collections, CD collections, etc.

•Always makes the band have a board game night on Saturdays (Noodle almost always wins)

•Deathly scared of whales because of plastic beach

•He has been called 2D for so long he forgets his real name is Stuart

•Indecisive music taste. He likes everything.

Murdoc

•He doesn’t say it out loud but he’s still sour about how popular The Now Now is.

•He has never gone a day without wearing his upside down cross necklace, it’s like a second skin for him

•Somehow befriended all the crows in the area (he secretly loves feeding the crows and sitting outside with them)

•every time he’s bored he’ll stick a sticky note to 2Ds back with some kinda obscene stuff on it and laugh his ass off as 2D looks around confused

•Only likes rock and metal. Will shit on any other type of music, will argue how metal is better. Literally no shame.

Russel

•Always makes the band eat his new chili pepper recipes and Noodles the only one who finished the whole bowl while 2D and Murdoc have to drink milk after the first bite

•Likes golf

•Extrovert, hates being inside for too long

•Likes to try different kinda weird foods (like those lollipops with the spiders and crickets in them.) (2D once tried one and ended up screaming when he reached the cricket in the lolipop)

•Has a super old record collection

•has a ton of old things from the 90s

YIPPIE THIS IS SO STUPID BUT IDC <33

69 notes · View notes

hadesforpreswrites · 4 months ago

Text

dirty laundry, pt. 5

a/n: here's part 5! finally! i think i'm going to make this the final in this series. i have a couple side stories for them i want to write though! as always, i hope you enjoy and please: like and reblog! comments are also nice (more than nice, they make me so happy).

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

genre: idiots-to-lovers

warnings: oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected (oops) sexual intercourse, they're so cute

word count: 2,756

summary: let's end this birthday with a bang

part one part two part three part four

it took them all of ten minutes to reach the bowling alley. and they were met with various looks from their friends when they pull into the parking lot. scarlett was smirking but trying to hide it with a painted on scowl. the others were blatantly smirking at noah.

y/n’s face lit up when she saw two more of their friends joining them. without waiting for noah to open her door, knowing that it would likely earn her a lecture later, and rushed toward juliet with arms open wide.

“i’m so sorry we couldn’t make it to dinner!” juliet apologized as she squeezed the other woman.

“couldn’t miss bowling though!” andy said, wrapping his arms around the two.

“that’s okay! i’m glad you’re here!” she said.

noah walked toward their group of friends with a smile on his face and threw his arm around y/n’s shoulders when she stepped back from andy and juliet.

“what took you so long?” andy asked noah as the group made their way into the building.

“dessert,” was all he said, earning him a smack from y/n, as they walked up to the counter and he got their shoes and two games paid for. since there were so many of them, they needed a couple of lanes but that’s how it was every year.

noah was pretty good at the game but y/n was not. after her fourth-in-a-row gutter ball, she walked back laughing and said, “i said it was fun not that i was good at it.”

“well, can’t be good at everything,” noah said, kissing her forehead as she sat next to him.

“there’s plenty i’m not good at,” she shot back with a smile on her face.

“name one. that’s not bowling.”

“mini golf. never played regular golf but i’m sure i’d suck at it too. and bonus answer: chemistry. i’m very bad at chemistry.”

“fair enough,” he said, standing up to bowl his turn. he earned a strike, causing everyone at their lane to groan as he strutted back to the seat.

“next time we play teams,” nick said. “y/n can level him out.”

“rude,” she said, laughing.

the games continued on for a couple of hours before y/n started walking back shaking her wrist.

“you okay?” noah asked, worried.

“yeah. wrist is starting to give out on me though. we’re almost done, i can make it.”

“if you’re sure.”

the last to bowl was jolly, who earned himself a strike and ended the game in second place. noah was in first. y/n, tragically, in last.

“that’s fine,” she said. “i’ll kick his ass in mario kart though.”

“you’ll kick my ass?” noah confirmed with a smirk.

“damn straight.”

“you’re on, doll.”

the group walked to the arcade side of the building after dropping their shoes off at the counter. y/n chose yoshi and noah chose his driver and off they went on rainbow road.

“oh shit, i think she’s got you,” nicholas said, laughing.

“you’re supposed to be on my team,” noah said through gritted teeth as he took a shell.

“just stating facts, man.”

scarlett and juliet cheered as y/n passed the finish line in first place.

“told you,” she said smugly to noah next to her, who took second.

“yeah, yeah,” he said, smiling at her.

“okay, someone win me a stuffie from that machine,” scarlett announced, moving the group along.

“those things are rigged, scar. it’s a futile mission,” y/n called after her, standing up from the mario kart game, pulling noah with her.

he watched as she took in their surroundings, trying to decide what to do next. he saw her demeanor drop ever so slightly before she turned to him.

“you okay, doll?”

“social battery’s low,” she mumbled.

“do you wanna head to the hotel?”

she nodded.

“okay, we can do that. let’s go let them know,” he held out his hand for her to latch on to before pulling her toward one of the groups of their friends, gathered by a claw machine in an attempt to win scarlett a stuffed avocado.

still holding his hand, y/n embraced scarlett and mumbled something in her ear, earning her a kiss on the forehead and a nudge. they made their rounds saying goodbye to everyone, most would follow suit shortly after the couple departed anyway.

once out at the car, noah held the passenger door open and allowed her to get comfortable in the seat before he settled himself behind the wheel. he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street before placing his hand on y/n’s thigh, squeezing it in reassurance. she traced the tattoos that adorned the skin as the two of them rode in a comfortable silence toward the hotel he had booked.

once they were there, he grabbed their bags from the backseat before opening the passenger door for her to exit. he carried both bags in one hand and threw the other around her shoulders and pulled her tight to him as they walked into the lobby. it was calm and quaint when they entered the building, greeted sweetly by a kind concierge person behind the counter.

noah greeted them back and explained that he had booked a room a couple days previous and gave his information to the person.

once he had the key cards in hand, he steered them both toward the elevators and pushed the up button. when they reached their floor, they walked down the hall toward their room. after he unlocked the door, he motioned for her to enter in front of him. he shut and locked the door with both locks after placing the “do not disturb” placard on the door knob.

he sat their bags down on the bed as he watched y/n quietly take it all in. she stopped by the windows and looked out at the horizon and all the lights of the city below them. he took out his phone and snapped a picture of her in the low light of the room. he smiled to himself as he threw his phone on the bed and walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle.

“what are you thinking about?” he asked, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“just everything.”

“you do that a lot.”

“it’s a personality fault.”

“nah,” he said. “i don’t think it’s a fault to think about everything. i think it’s a strength.”

“you would say that,” she smiled as she turned to face him, back against the glass of the window.

“i mean think about it. you see different perspectives and are able to choose one that makes the most sense to you after you examine those differences. that’s pretty neat.”

“you’re pretty neat.”

“y/n, are you flirting with me?”

“i mean, you’re pretty hot when you get all philosophical. it’s hard not to. especially when you’re all dressed up.”

“oh, she’s bold tonight.”

“she is,” she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

he wrapped his arms around her frame and held her tight as his lips moved with hers. he let his hands wander down her back before they found themselves gripping her ass, a silent plea for more.

continuing her bold streak, y/n pushed him with her body to move them toward the bed. when his knees hit the bed, he sat, pulling her with him. her hands cupped his cheeks as she straddled him. his hands were still gripping her wherever he could.

her hands began to wander down to the buttons on his black dress shirt. slowly, she started to unbutton the garment.

“you know, if you want me naked, you just have to ask,” he joked as he pulled back from her for air.

“noah,” she started.

“yes, doll?” he answered with a smirk.

“please help me take this shirt off of you.”

“anything for the birthday girl,” he said as he finished unbuttoning the shirt and pulled it off his shoulders.

“anything?” she asked, her boldness starting to wear off.

his eyebrows raised.”what’d you have in mind?”

a blush crept up her neck and landed on her cheeks as she mumbled something he couldn’t make out.

“what was that?”

“nevermind, let’s just watch a movie or something,” she said quickly, trying to cover up her embarrassment as she moved to get off his lap.

his hands gripped her hips tightly. “oh, no you don’t. what is it you want, baby?”

“you,” she said, quietly.

“you have me,” he said, not quite understanding.

she huffed in frustration, mostly at herself. “i want you,” she repeated.

“doll, baby, you have me. always.”

unable to get herself to speak the words outright, she opted to roll her hips against him. the movement caused him to throw his head back and moan.

“we really gotta work on your ability to say what you want, baby.”

she rolled her eyes. he chuckled darkly and turned to throw her on the bed on her back. he kicked off his shoes and threw hers off as well before settling between her legs on his stomach.

“c’mon, say it.”

she shook her head.

“baby, please,” he pleaded.

“i can’t,” she whispered.

“why not?”

“i don’t know.”

“you’re adorable,” he said, causing her to groan.

“i’m not trying to be cute, noah.”

“i know that, doll. but i can’t give you something if i don’t know what it is.”

“i think you do know and you’re torturing me.”

“i would never,” he propped his head on his hands that were folded on her stomach. she ran her fingers through his hair, causing his eyes to close at the contact.

“i want you to make love to me, noah.” his eyes shot open. “make me forget, if even for a moment, about that one experience.”

“i’m only going to if you’re truly ready, doll.”

“i am. i’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

“are you sure it’s not my birthday?”

“at this rate it will be.”

“she got jokes,” he said as kissed down her clothed stomach. he pushed the hem of her dress up her thighs, exposing her. he licked his lips before pressing a kiss to her covered center, causing her to let out a sigh.

for the second time that night, noah pulled her underwear down her legs and hooked one over his shoulder, spreading her. greedily, he ran his tongue up her slit. when he reached her clit, he pulled it into his mouth with a suck. he continued to lick her until he started to pull loud moans from her. her fingers were pulling at his hair as her breathing came out in bursts.

“noah,” she sighed as his tongue worked her through the second climax of the night.

he placed a kiss to her inner thigh before putting her leg back down and sliding up her body to her face. her eyes were closed as she came down. he held himself up on an elbow and stroked her hair as he kissed her face.

he tugged at the hem of her shirt causing her to sit up so it could be taken off and discarded with his on the floor. he skillfully unhooked her bra and tossed it aside before lowering her back to the bed. his lips found hers quickly and he moaned into her mouth as he felt her hands slide down his bare torso to his belted pants. she made quick work of the buckle and had one of her hands on his member just as quickly. he didn’t let her touch him for long before he pulled her hand away from him, causing her to let out a whine.

“so impatient,” he tsked as he stood up from the bed to pull his pants and underwear down in one fluid motion. he stood with his hands on his hips, cock standing at attention, and looked down at her. her breathing was starting to even out as he watched her. “there’s just one thing that needs to change about this moment, doll,” he pointed to her skirt that was still on.

she lifted her hips and began to pull the fabric off of her form and kicked it off the bed.

“perfect,” he breathed.

“noah,” she held her arms out to him.

he knelt on the bed and crawled over her. he pushed his lips to hers again as he let his hand travel down her body and to the apex of her thighs. he gathered the slick that had accumulated and used it to push one of his fingers inside her. after a couple of moments, he pushed a second finger inside her and let her adjust before scissoring them and using his thumb to rub figure eights on her clit.

“noah,” she breathed out after he released her lips.

“think you can give me another one before i give you my cock, doll?” he said between breaths in her ear.

“yes,” she moaned.

“good girl,” he said, feeling her clench around his fingers. he hooked his fingers in her, hitting that spot deep inside her causing her to cry out. “fuck,” he moaned. “can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. see what noises you make then.”

she was pushed over the edge at his words and came with a loud moan. she whined as he pulled his fingers out of her, missing the feeling. “don’t worry, you’ll feel even more full in a moment, baby.”

“noah, please.”

“so polite,” he muttered as he lined himself up with her.

he slowly began entering her in order to let her get used to his size little by little. once he was fully wrapped up by her he leaned down and kissed her forehead, then her shut eyes, then her lips. her arms came from beside her and wrapped around his neck, locking him in place as she began to move her hips under him. he took the hint quickly and began to pull his hips back and pushed them back in slowly.

“noah,” she breathed out again. “noah, please.”

“please, what, baby?”

“faster.”

he kissed her on the forehead again before sitting back and giving himself more leverage as he pumped in and out of her quicker than before.

“oh my god,” they moaned at the same time.

“you feel better than i could have ever imagined,” he said through gritted teeth as he watched himself move in and out of her.

she moaned his name again as she came the fourth time that night. he followed right after feeling her clench around him. he pulled out and laid next to her, both of them catching their breath as they looked in each other’s eyes. he turned on his side, facing her, “i love you, y/n,” he said as he brushed her hair behind her ear.

“i love you. so much,” she answered.

he pulled her lips to his for a sweet kiss, placing their foreheads together after pulling away.

after a few minutes laying there, he rolled out of bed and walked to the adjoining bathroom, he wet a washcloth with warm water and walked back out to wipe the mess that they had made together from the inside of her thighs. when he finished, he pulled her up, much to her protest and pointed her to the bathroom. he smacked her ass lightly to get her moving, earning him a playful glare.

he laid back on the bed, arms folded behind his head. when she emerged from the bathroom she scoured the floor for her underwear.

“doll, you could just sleep naked,” he laughed as she continued to look in the dark for them.

“it would make me more comfortable to not,” she said, practically jumping in them once she found them.

after donning the lace garment, she climbed in bed and put her head on his chest with one arm thrown over his middle.

“so,” she started, causing him to laugh.

“so, indeed.”

“condoms from here on out. i can’t believe i let you do that,” she said, burying her face in his chest.

“honestly, me either. and i’m sorry, i wasn’t even thinking.”

“me either! so no need to say sorry.”

“wait, does this mean there will be a future time?” he joked, causing her to roll her eyes.

“maybe,” she said, he feigned hurt.

they fell asleep shortly after, holding each other.

#noah sebastian #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian smut #bad omens smut #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens cult

71 notes · View notes

gymbunnycandiehart · 11 months ago

Text

10 Don’ts for any Gym Bunny

1) Don’t be a sissy in the gym–I get it: Some gym bunnies want to be sissies and be humiliated or feminized by men or women. If that’s your thing, more to you. But don’t be a sissy in the gym. Just because you’re a guy dressed like a girl doesn’t mean you have to be a powder puff.

2) Don’t let the gym rats steal your joy–Nobody should steal your joy. They might assault your happiness, but nobody can take the joy that belongs to you. Those intolerant beastly men (gym rats) are just upset because you’re hotter than their girlfriend.

3) Don’t overpad your sports bra–I can see why you would want to look stacked, but there’s no logical reason to give yourself extra padding. Nobody wants to see your pads falling out all over the place.

4) Don’t be a harry Mary in beast mode–On the flip side of being a sissy, neither do you want to be a clumpy beast of a guy. It just doesn’t work. Yes, work out hard and tough, but don’t try to compensate for the lack of manliness you are exhibiting in your cute workout clothes.

5) Don’t be a tease without intent–It’s a lot of fun to be a tease, to flirt, or pose seductively with weights in hand. But if you’re not trying to garner the sexual attention of some guy or girl, don’t do it. Save it for the shower (lol-just kidding).

6) Don’t wear tennis shoes twice in two days–Keep your outfits mixed up. If you are a true gym bunny, you have at least six pairs of adorable sneakers. Mix it up one day to the next and keep yourself looking fresh and beautiful from head to toe!

7) Don’t wear Keds to lift weights–Yeah, they’re cute with rompers and cutoff shorts, but they have no place in the squat rack…or even in the zumba class. They’re not made for that. Save them for the mall or for the boardwalk.

8) Don’t fret over your revealing clothing–If you’ve got a good tuck going on (see #10), then there is no reason why you can’t be as bare as permissible. You don’t want to be a slouch and you need not worry over what others think. If you’ve got it, flaunt it…not for others, but for your developing personality.

9) Don’t mismatch your tops and bottoms–If I have to explain this one, then you need to take up golf from the seniors’ tees.

10) Don’t forget to tuck yourself tightly–You’ll get used to it. Nothing ruins a sleek womanly look than some unsightly bulge in tight-fitted hot shorts. You’re better than that.

This was an OLD OLD post from way back when, but what a fun one! Have fun in the gym, girlies.

Love ya much

CandieHart

189 notes · View notes

fuck-customers · 3 days ago

Note

This was a couple of decades ago when I worked in sales, let’s say for an electronics company or appliance company or something similar to that. We had an older gentleman come in and he wanted to buy some high end stuff and quite a bit of it, so we were more than willing to help him out. Things started getting out of hand with him pretty quickly though. He was starting to demand that during the delivery and installation we would do stuff above and beyond what we could do because what he was asking for was against corporate policy. When we started to explain some of this to him he was all “You don’t know who I am, do you?” and he started to tell us that he used to be the ceo of a global company that I’ll leave unnamed. Think something big like energy, tech, or media. A company that has products in almost every household. He was telling us how corporate policies are all about lawyers and accountants and he doesn’t give a damn about that kind of stuff. If anything went wrong he wouldn’t hold anyone accountable and we could take him for his word. He said he used to make multimillion dollar deals on the golf course or over dinner with nothing more than handshakes and promises of phone calls over the next week to further hash things out.

We all thought this man was full of shit but he was willing to spend a lot of money, so we just let him keep on talking while we figured out ways to talk him down from his unrealistic expectations. It felt like a hostage negotiation. From time to time he would go on tangents and give us his “insider knowledge” about this company or that. It was all far from insider knowledge. It was everyday stuff that could easily be learned by reading Forbes or The Wall Street Journal.

I was the main salesperson and his first point of contact so I talked to him the most. He talked foul and looked completely disheveled. Everything about him and the whole interaction was the exact opposite of the types of corporate businessmen I was used to dealing with. I was starting to think we were getting conned. After about two long and painful hours the sale was completed and payments went through, much to my surprise. While a lot of equipment needed to be delivered, I volunteered to load the stuff we had on hand into his car. When we got out to the parking lot I saw that his car was a busted up and rusted out relic from the mid ‘80s. I thought that there was no way an ex-ceo of a global company would be driving something so crappy. I was convinced that he was just taking us for a ride for God know’s what reason.

When I got home from work that night I googled his name. Lo and behold there he was with photographs and articles. Tons of them. Not only was he who he said he was, he actually downplayed his career. I printed out some of the articles to take into work the next day. My boss, my coworkers, and I went over them, just dumb struck. We just couldn’t believe it. This complete asshole was exactly who he said he was. We ended up calling the installers to give them a heads up and warn them that they were probably be going to deal with one of the most difficult customers they’d see that year.

We never saw him again. On the one hand we were happy because none of us wanted to deal with him again. On the other hand we were kind of disappointed. He spent money without even trying.

I believed he was who he said he was before you said you looked him up.

The really rich people (worth billions) will drive a thirty year old car, wear clothes decades out of date, and expect a lot of things "extra" on everything they do buy. That's how they stay rich. The CEO of our company is still using a flip phone and came to our meeting (when I was still in corporate) in jeans and a t-shirt. And that dude is worth billions.

The showoff's (flashy car, new phone/bag/shoes) either are millionaires that will not be rich their whole life. Or celebrities/influencer's that need to have that image of wealth.

At least that's my experience in retail corporate and working security for the mouse.

-Rodney

44 notes · View notes

i-want-men-i-cant-have · 11 months ago

Note

Will you do more slasher yandere? I LOVE HIM!!!!!!!!! I wanna see us graduated with a house, wedding, and 7 kids. I wanna be his lil stepford wifey!!!!!!!!!! 🙈🤰👩‍🍼👶😭

🤰-anon i was so confused for a second before i reread the fic. i was staring at my screen for a solid second questioning my life. i was like, “7 kids… tf?”

[part.1]

yan!slasher who makes feels so young around you. he can still remember your wedding just a few years ago.

yan!slasher who will always love your oldest the most, having luckily caused the shotgun wedding. oh, he'll never forget that fear in your eyes, tears threatening to spill, proclaiming you were still a virgin. it was honestly because your period was late, and it was a joke to check.

yan!slasher who felt some remorse. he promised to wait until you were married, and he thought he had the patience- just when you look like that, was it honestly his fault? he's been waiting since high school just for this very moment. you can't exactly blame him when those hormones he's been trying to keep down just come to bite him later on.

yan!slasher who decides you both and your 7 little dwarfs should move to a gated community in the midwest, each house bearing shutters on windows and white picket fences. grass that could rival the country club a few blocks away, and those beautiful flowers you loved so much so he loved them so much.

yan!slasher who was honestly being generous. i mean, the perfect town and house for the perfect nuclear family, who wouldn't want that? sure a woman like you should never be confined to a kitchen, for crying out loud you have a degree, but think about your 7 children. they needed a mother in their life. their father is a hard worker after all he can pay the bills so the children can have a mother.

yan!slasher who worried about your loneliness. you did need some friends from moving into such a beautiful community. why not invite some women over? he made sure to buy only the best house available just for your family to be the envy of the town. the wives immediately wanting to have tea once your husband and perfect children were gone.

yan!slasher who, of course, caught wind of mrs. rothschild. how could she say such horrible things? ‘her lawn needed some mowing, and did you see her shoes? ugh, I saw that wear and tear from a mile away. she’s such a- excuse my language, whore. she just married him for his money.’ who did she think she was? she was just an unfertilized old hag wishing to relive her youth! she was jealous of you and your perfect family!

yan!slasher who almost jumps on her the moment those words spill from her sagging red-painted lips. he continued driving the golf cart on the green, trying to contain himself, the past he desperately was trying not to relapse into. but at the same time, did her family even need her? he’s heard the rumors from the drunk colleagues after work in the bar, how she practically was pouncing on her children when they came home with an a- or anything below. the complete opposite of what a woman should be! she’s the complete opposite of you!

yan!slasher who came to the conclusion mrs. rothschild's family could live without her. a pathetic old woman desperately trying to relive her youth by hating on those with lives oh so much better than hers. yes, she could die; it would be for the greater good. but at the same time, he couldn't fall into his old ways. his family needed him- you needed him. he was the sole provider for your little children, and to think like tha- ‘to think that man even has a wife like her. such a pathetic man.’

yan!slasher who is grateful he kept up with working out. beneath that knitted sweater, white button-down, and expensive pants, it was plainly obvious. of course, he made sure you would remember that whenever all the kids were asleep. you did say you wanted to try for another after all.

yan!slasher who decided that the only way to get rid of mrs. rothschild was to tell you to invite her for tea one-on-one. poisoning that vegan tea she liked oh so much and some sleeping drugs in yours. you and the children wouldn't need to know this side of him, grabbing her hair through that kentucky derby hat, ripping the expensive fabric, and gripping to her hair with his strong fingers, still rough and padded from his days in high school up until now, switching to golfing with his work buddies.

yan!slasher who left a note telling you he was going to work early from some colleagues slacking off, and mrs. rothschild left when you fell asleep. that was all a cover-up for him to leave town for a day or two. he just needed to find that deserted fishing lake his college told him about. that sewage spilling would cover up her pathetic, rotting body in no time. now you could live your happy little stepford wife life with no trouble!

yan!slasher who started slipping up more and more. sure, he wouldn't have wanted this at the beginning. this was a new place, a new year. but it was all for you! why shouldn’t he protect his wife and children? he’s already the sole provider, after all.

yan!slasher who makes sure to dispose of tell the housing committee that anyone who even looked at you the wrong way mailbox was approximately two inches farther than the housing code in section 2-a of the appropriate home guide they would give you on the first day of moving in.

yan!slasher who makes sure you don't know what happened to that woman who said such horrible atrocities about you. some such as your couch wasn’t complimenting the cheese platter you had served last week! so horrible and rude of her! how low do these people get? now, do you know her truly body and soul like him? well, no- you didn't. why should you stay up to date or even notice those beneath you and your wonderful perfect magazine family?

yan!slasher who was surprised when you did ask if she was alright but made sure you don't worry your little head off, darling wife. she was cheating on her husband with the couples' therapist anyway.

yan!slasher who noticed that man who looked at your photo in his wallet a split second longer than he should. he was slacking off at his job! fine reasons for someone to be fired as soon as snatches that position he’s been working oh so hard for! aren't you just so happy for him? don't think you should reward him? have the kids go to their friends' house for a night and let him finally spend some alone time with you, the creaking of the bed frame hitting the wall the whole night, heartbeats intertwining into one?

yan!slasher who was grateful he had chosen such a safe town to live. a gated community was supposed to protect the outside not the inside after all. no one would suspect the nice and peaceful town would be harboring a murderer.

yan!slasher who wondered what the townspeople were thinking. he almost felt giddy at it. but he can't be distracted when his main priority is and always be you.

yan!slasher who is overjoyed when the town decides to host a party to try and brighten everyone's mood. this would be another perfect opportunity to show the community how perfect his pretty little wife is! yes, he wanted to look good, only for you. you were the only one he saw, why should he care about the others? you were the main attraction. he would make sure people would know that.

yan!slasher who let you put some makeup onto him to try and spruce him up a bit. who cares if it wasn’t masculine? he would be hotter than any other man there anyway. besides, he was the only one that had a wife that loved him! how pathetic was it to hate those who have more than you?

yan!slasher who ignores the looks women give him. envy. yearning. desire. if one woman even touched him or, god forbid, a man talk to you, he would just have to rip that cute little esophagus right out of their throat in front of everyone!

yan!slasher who, of course, doesn't. why would he ever subject your eyes to even the thought of blood? but he does cling to you the whole night. you want to talk to some of the wives? oh, no, i don’t think that would be for the best. after all, your husband is right here. he’s been so busy with work, why would you ever want to leave your devoured spouse to spend time with friends?

yan!slasher who, once he hears the rumors going around that he, him, your wonderful loving husband was the one killing people, was over this little town.

yan!slasher who makes sure you didn't try any of the punch or alcohol they were serving.

yan!slasher who makes sure that you both leave early.

yan!slasher who makes sure to tell the kids to pack up.

yan!slasher who makes sure that he already had everything you needed to leave.

yan!slasher who makes sure to grab a photobook of your family and get everyone in the car.

yan!slasher who makes sure you don’t check the news on that small town you lived in.

“leaving? no, baby. just take a nap and when you wake up you’ll have a whole new life. i’ll protect you.”

#｡˚꩜.no gunsHCs #x reader #yandere slasher #yandere x reader #slasher x reader #yandere slasher x reader #request #stepford wife #yandere #yandere imagines #imagine #x you #x yn #oc x reader

216 notes · View notes

aloysiavirgata · 7 months ago

Note

Prompt: leather jacket, pay phone, Southern accent.

Mulder’s Southern accent is pure Hilton Head; the Long Island Lockjaw of the magnolia-and-sweet-tea set. His mother’s people came from here and he learned to golf with them. Mulder knows about Lowcountry food and unironic madras trousers and herons in the pre-dawn light. He knows when to say “The War of Northern Aggression,” with a laconic wink.

Mulder knows all the lyrics to “The Battle of New Orleans.” He happily eats shrimp with the heads still on.

Scully - lower middle class Navy brat with aristocratic cheekbones and a chip on her fine shoulder - is his acceptable Yankee wife. She’s never going to say “pecan” the proper way. Never going to cut her eyes just right at white shoes after Labor Day. They named her Jessica and said she was from Sag Harbor, and the Louis Vuitton tote bag is getting her by.

Scully, in AquaNet and Lilly Pulitzer, misses Mulder’s Mid-Atlantic cool, his New England snobbery. Misses his firm opinions on Chicago-style pizza (a casserole) and Billy Joel (unironic legend). She wants her hand pressed to his sternum in a grey t-shirt and a leather jacket, a faded hoodie from the Vineyard.

Mulder (Emmett, she hisses in her own head) knows that quality families would never repair the upholstery because it’s déclassé to care. Would never

Mulder eats a cheese straw, Mulder nuzzles her tingling ear in the steamy June evening, tells a funny story at the Cavendish-Lawrence wedding.

“I swear to Christ, Jessica had to pull over and find a payphone,” Mulder says, to his starry—eyed audience. “My poor sweet girl on the side of the road with a tornado alert, ordering Christmas presents.”

Mulder clutches her to him, his fingers big and hot and wide against her waist as the audience titters with admiration. Mulder smells like fresh cotton and old money. Mulder looks like the best terrible decision she’ll ever make.

She’s going to fuck him tonight, she decides. She simply cannot stand it anymore, and it would be such a shame to waste away without having had him, like some medieval ascetic. She wants him to lick her tattoo, to bind her to the living world.

Mulder drops a kiss on her buzzing cheek, near the tiny neutron star encroaching on her very essence.

She hears the tide lap against the dock, laughs the way Jessica is expected to laugh.

She feels alive, like sparks rising towards the sun.

#xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #my fic #msr #inbox #Cancer arc #undercover #Prompt

72 notes · View notes

a-aexotic · 2 years ago

Note

Could you write something around the sentence “I’d choose you over anyone” with Rafe :))) preferably kinda enemies (or friends) to lovers angsty type of thing xx thank you!!

ren's notes hey! of course i can, enemies to lovers w/ rafe is literally my dream ugh. y/n out here living the dream. ALSO im sorry i totally forgot about the prompt :(

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader requested? yes no

warnings. drinking, mention of hickies, enemies to lovers, ooc sarah/rafe, angst to fluff

summary. being best friends with sarah, it was natural to hate rafe. you hate him and he hates you, or that's what everyone else though.

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

As long as you could remember, you hated Rafe Cameron. From the very beginning, you hated him - ever since you'd move in next to the Cameron's, you and Rafe had been at each other's throats. It was something that had become a norm for the Cameron's and the L/N's.

You and Rafe are too similar. You guys are both hotheaded, blunt and kind of reckless. You guys are too similar to around each other, it was like forcing two negatives together; it would cause them to want to explode on one another.

As you got older, the more mature you got. And naturally, you wanted this stupid rivalry between you two to end. But if there was anything you knew about Rafe, it was that he was not mature.

So now he loved pressing your buttons, going over the line and getting on your nerves. He loved it, it was his favorite part of the day; seeing you all flustered and bothered when he made a snide remark that you didn't have a response to. It was his goal, to see you all embarrassed and annoyed.

Rafe knew you surprisingly, very well. You'd been best friends with Sarah since you had moved in next door and he'd heard all your secrets when you and Sarah would have sleepovers. He made it a point to learn all your weak points and secrets, not use them against you... Well, maybe sometimes, but just for fun. Again, it was a fun hobby for the bored Cameron sibling.

Everyone who knew Rafe or you knew you two had despised each other. That was just a fact of the island, everyone knew it.

You walked into the Cameron's house on a mission; find the heels that Sarah had stole from you so you could prove to yourself (and Sarah) that you weren't crazy. Those heels didn't just grow legs and walk, did they? You didn't have a little sister and the only person who consistently borrows and never returns your clothes is Sarah.

You knew Sarah would be at John B's today so this was the perfect time. You walked upstairs and barged into Sarah's room, walking to her closet and looking through her shoes.

To most people, that was considered "crossing a boundary," but you and Sarah were basically sisters at that point so looking through her clothes to find an item you were missing wasn't out of the ordinary. You wouldn't do that if she would just put the damned items back.

And plus you needed those heels asap, tonight was Midsummers. It was the event of the summer and you loved dressing up in cute dresses and nice heels; you'd been planning the outfit for months. You made the outfit surrounding the heels: without the heels, your outfit would be nothing. You already bought a matching dress and a Tiffany necklace, now all you needed were the heels.

Sarah swore she didn't have them, but who else would take them?

You were looking through her shirts and you found the Reputation shirt you were looking for two months ago, who she also swore she didn't have. You scoffed, "Bitch."

The more you looked, the more frustrated you were because you could not find the heels anywhere. You heard a knock at the door and sighed, "Come in."

Rafe walked in and his face contorted into a disgusted one. "Ew, you're not Sarah."

"Shut up, Rafe. God, do you have anything better to do? Shouldn't you be golfing with thing 1 and thing 2 right now?" You groaned and he couldn't help but laugh at your nicknames for Top and Kelce.

"Shouldn't you be making out with your gross Pogue boyfriend?" He countered, making you roll your eyes again.

"JJ's not my boyfriend."

He sighed, "Good, I was hoping you wouldn't go as low as dating a Pogue. Anyway, what are you doing in Sarah's room?"

You furrowed your brows at his words before sighing. "I can't find the pair of heels I was going to wear at Midsummers and I think I might just end it all."

"You should, it'd be great for the world." Rafe smirked and you put your head in your arms, groaning in frustration. You didn't need Rafe's snarkiness right now, you just wanted to find those heels.

"Wait." He paused. "Are they uh, pink and glittery?"

You turned your head up, looking at Rafe with a suspicious glint in your eye. "Yeah..."

"Oh, shit." He walked away and then returned a few seconds later with your heels in his hands. You got up and ran to him, grabbing them from his hands.

"Why would take them! What the hell, Rafe? Are you crazy?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Lower your fucking voice, jesus. You're so loud. I didn't take them, okay? They just ended up in my room and I thought one of the girls I had over left them, okay?"

You scoffed in disgust. "You're gross."

"Don't act like you haven't had a boy over, Y/N. I know you have, you make it so obvious with your hickies and shit." Rafe spoke, sighing with an ounce of jealousy in voice. You almost thought you misheard it.

You felt your face heat up at mention of hickies. "They're not hickies they're rashes, okay? My neck is sensitive."

He laughed, "Alright sure. Sensitive neck, my ass."

You rolled your eyes for what seemed like the millionth time that day as you walked through the door of Sarah's bedroom, making it a goal to make sure to hit Rafe's shoulder on the way out.

"So immature," you mumbled.

Rafe smiled as he watched you walk away, his goal accomplished. Leave you flustered and annoyed, check. He walked back to his room with a wide grin.

As you walked back your house, heels in hand, you kept picturing Rafe's annoying smirk. It kept replaying in your mind and you feel yourself burning up at the thought of the older brother.

You wanted to slap yourself, were you crazy? Why were you acting like that over Rafe? You hated him more than anyone else in the world, he made your life unnecessarily annoying. So why does your heart skip a beat when you see his annoyingly perfect smile?

This has been happening for the last couple months and you feel yourself becoming more and more vulnerable with every remark he makes: you can never counter them, your mind going blank. You felt stupid and weak, you couldn't just let Rafe win this decade long fight. You weren't going to let him.

You and Sarah were at your house, getting ready for Midsummers. This was your favorite event of the year - in all honesty, you loved how classy it made you feel. The dances, the champagne, everyone else looking on the inside, jealous. It was a secret pleasure you happily took part in; I mean, what's the point of being a Kook if you can't flex it?

"See, I told you I didn't take it." Sarah mumbled annoyed as she did her eyeshadow.

You scoffed, "then how'd it end up in Rafe's room?"

She looked back at you with a smirk, "I don't know, you tell me."

The same burning sensation had came onto your face as you shook your head in annoyance, turning back to curling your hair. "God, you're gross for even... even suggesting that."

"Suggesting what, Y/N? You're the one with the dirty mind, I never said anything."

"God, shut up! My parents could hear us, y'know?"

Sarah laughed at your displeasure. "Are you excited to meet up with Nick?"

You smiled. Nick was your longtime crush; you've liked him since seventh grade and you just had the nerve to ask him out now. He was the hottest guy in OBX: he was a football player, he was smart, had pretty eyes you could stare into for hours long and soft curly hair. He was your dream guy and he agreed to be your date to Midsummers.

"Yes, I am. I hope he thinks I'm pretty-"

Sarah scoffed at you. "Of course he will, you are pretty. Don't even say that, who cares what he thinks?"

"I kind of do, I mean I've liked him for so long, I don't know what I'd do if he didn't like me back." You confided in Sarah. She looked back you, sympathetically.

"Well, I mean... He agreed to be your date for Midsummers, that's a good start."

You nodded in response. "Yeah! It is."

You both finished with your hair and makeup, now all you had to do was get dressed. You had bought this pink dress to match with your heels and your hair was curled and in an half up half down hairstyle. You also had bought a new Tiffany necklace to tie the whole look together.

Sarah wore her white dress and cute headpiece. You looked in the mirror and you were genuinely proud of yourself for making this outfit come true.

"Wow, that dress is stunning on you." Sarah was breathless; you look beyond beautiful; you looked flawless. You smiled at her.

"Thank you, Sarah. You too. I love that dress on you, it's perfect."

You and Sarah eventually got the texts from your ride, your crush and date, Nick. He was outside waiting for you guys. You tried not to squeal with excitement as you walked down the stairs, your dress perfectly flowing. You already felt like the night was going to be the most magical and a night to remember.

His Benz was waiting outside for you and Sarah and she smirked at you. "You excited?"

"Yes, I can't wait to dance with him." You whispered to her as she opened the door for you. His friend was already in the front seat so you and Sarah were in the back.

"Ladies first."

You giggled at Sarah's words as you went in, taking a seat. Sarah came in right after you. The smell of strong cologne immediately hit you, with a faint smell of weed. You scrunched your nose as you held your breathe; surprisingly, those two smells weren't the best mixture of smells.

"Wow, I like your dress, Y/N." His friend commented and you waited for Nick's reply. He was on his phone, taking a snap before he realized that he needed to answer. He turned to you with a big smile.

"Uh, yeah. It's gorgeous." He started the car and you lent back in your seat, content with his answer. Sarah glared at him before looking back at you. You ignored her disapproval. He then took his friend's vape pen and took another hit.

The ride there wasn't as magical as you thought it would be. You and Sarah were the only ones talking as the country music on the radio in the background making it somewhat even more awkward. Luke Combs wasn't exactly the artist you wanted to listen to right now.

His friend turned to you and Sarah. "You wanna pregame?"

You and Sarah both shared a look before both shaking your heads. Tonight wasn't about getting drunk or high to either of you. Nick nodded though.

"Yes sir, gimme."

His friend laughed before taking out a few fireball shots, handing one to Nick.

"You sure you wanna be taking that... Uh, now?" Sarah spoke up, refering to him drinking and driving. He waved her off, nodding.

"We'll be fine, it's one shot." He made his friend open the bottle and he quickly took the shot, making him shake his head and let out a loud "Woo." His friend soon did the same.

You couldn't have gotten to the Club any quicker; you wanted to leave the air immediately. Maybe Nick would act a little better once you were in front of their parents.

You and Sarah exited the car and so did the boys. Nick went up to you and took your arm in his, smiling down at you. "Okay, let's go dance."

You smiled. You texted him the first you wanted to do when you got to Midsummers was dance and he remembered. How cute was he?

Sarah was awkwardly standing beside you guys as you walked in. You were so excited you could barely contain it, you squeezed his arm. "I'm so excited!"

Sarah excused herself so she could find and talk Wheezie instead of third wheeling with you.

He hummed in response as he took you the dancefloor, putting his hands on your waist as you put your arms around his neck. The night was as magical as they come; clear starry sky, the sound of faint music coming from inside and the waves crashing onto the beach.

You see Nick's gaze shift to someone behind you and he looked like he'd just seen a ghost. He lets go of you and clears his throat. "Let me uh, go get us some drinks."

You were confused but you nodded along. He walked away and you were by yourself, standing there waiting for Nick to return. You stood there for 15 minutes before deciding that maybe you should go check up on him. You were beginning to worry.

You looked all over the bar and you couldn't find him. You found his friend from before and as he caught your gaze, he had suddenly became tense and nervous.

"Hey, uh. Do you know where Nick went?"

"Nope. Not a clue." His friend replied as you furrowed your eyebrows in suspicion. If anyone knew where Nick was, it was obviously going to be him.

You heard some snuffling in the back and you moved your gaze to behind the boy. There was a door. You quickly walked away to the door and knocked.

"Uh, you shouldn't go in-"

When there was no answer, you opened it to see a girl you had never seen before and Nick. She was on a table and he was in front of her, exchanging spit.

Your heart dropped at the scene, your mouth flew open. "What the hell?!" You shouted.

Nick had turned around and seen you and his eyes widened and he immediately turned away from the girl. "Oh, Y/N-"

"Oh my gosh, you are so gross." You couldn't help but feel your eyes water at the sight, a single tear rolling down your cheek. Your night was definitely ruined now. So much for a magical evening.

You turned away from the scene, ignoring Nick's pleas and you walked away through the crowds. You were so focused on trying not to cry more, you accidentally bumped into someone and they spilled their red wine all over your brand new dress.

You looked up to see Rose and she immediately apologizes but you were already in tears, you broke down. You started crying as she rubbed your shoulder comfortingly.

"I-I'm sorry, Y/N, I can buy you a new one!" Rose exclaimed happily but you shook your head.

Rafe was talking to Kelce when he had heard all the commotion happen - he saw Nick with that girl and then he saw you walking away; he quickly followed you.

He didn't know why he did it; it's not like he cared about you, he just wanted to make sure you were alright. Rafe followed you to where you and Rose were and immediately went by your side.

As he saw your puffy eyes and your dress all ruined, something clicked. He was suddenly angry; he'd heard how excited you were about Midsummers and look how it's turning out.

He heard someone walk up to you and he turned his head to see none other than Nick.

"Y/N, are you- are you okay?" He put his hand on your shoulder and you turned around to shake your head. You really didn't want to make a scene but Nick was the last person you wanted to see, so he was making it impossible for you to keep your cool.

"God, no! You just ruined my night."

He looked around at all the people staring and he took your hand but you ripped it out of his grasp. "Don't touch me, Nick."

Despite your efforts, he still decided to put his hand on your shoulder. Rafe had enough; he pushed him away from you and grabbed him by his collar.

"She said don't touch her, man." Rafe shouted at Nick. "So don't fuckin' touch her."

You couldn't take it anymore; there were too many people everyone and suddenly the music was too loud. You walked away from the scene and held in your cry. You couldn't even go home because stupid Nick had drove you here in his stupid Mercedes.

Rafe let go of Nick once he realized you had walked away. He tried to look for Sarah but she was no where to be found. "Where's Sarah when you fucking need her," he mumbled.

Rose was worried sick about you, wondering what had happened. "Rafe, go talk to her and I'll find Sarah, okay?"

He nodded and sighed. He was worried about you, too but he was going to admit that.

You heard footsteps behind you and you turned around expecting Sarah but you were slightly disappointed once you saw it was Rafe. He sat next to you silently as you sniffled.

He sighed and look over at you. "Nick's an asshole."

You nodded silently. Rafe looked over at you and the sight of you crying made him angrier. He hadn't even managed to make you cry in the 10 years he’d know you; he couldn't believe that Nick could've done so easily. He was slightly glad that he'd never made you cry before because the sight alone made him miserable.

"I'm sorry about... your dress. It was really pretty."

You looked over at Rafe, disbelief in your eyes. Did Rafe Cameron just call your dress... pretty?

He laughed at your expression, making you crack a small smile. His laugh always made you feel a little better, even if it was directed at you.

There was silence for a moment, just listening to the waves crashing and the music from inside the Club. Rafe turned to you, "I know we're not friends or anything... but uh, I'm here if you want to talk."

You smiled back at Rafe. It was unusual to see such a sweet Rafe but you've known him long enough to see it sometimes. He's not completely evil. And maybe you didn't completely hate him. You knew he doesn't like seeing you, Sarah or Wheezie cry. Even though he pretended to hate them, he really doesn't.

You turned away from Rafe, taking a deep inhale. "I don't want to bother you-"

"You're not." Rafe quickly refuted.

You suddenly felt a pidge of guilt as you looked over at Rafe; you possibly ruined his night as well. "Rafe, I'm sorry. You shouldn't feel responsible to calm me down."

Rafe sighed and rolled his eyes. "Stop apologizing, Y/N. You didn't do anything wrong. No one made me come and help you, okay? I did it out of my own free will."

You sighed. "Nick is an asshole."

"We've agreed on that."

"I just wish that I had a perfect night, I had such high expectations and they all just plummeted as the night went on. I know what you're going to say, I shouldn't have had my standards up so high. But I did. And here I am, my dress and makeup ruined and no date." You ranted as Rafe listened and nodded along.

"You don't need a date to be happy. Or a nice dress. Or makeup, I mean, you already look beautiful as is." Rafe said confidentally, making you turn your gaze back to Rafe. You smiled at his words.

"You mean it?"

"Yes, you do look beautiful." Rafe sighed; it was obvious though, everyone thought it. It was just pure fact.

You felt a heat come on to your face and you looked away, bashfully. Rafe Cameron was so confusing - how could one person make you feel so many things?

"I mean, don't get me wrong. You're still the most annoying person on this island, but beautiful nonetheless."

You grinned slightly as you rolled your eyes. That was the Rafe Cameron you knew. "Wow, so nice. Thanks."

You both let out a soft laugh before sitting in calm silence again. The summer breeze making you shiver as you looked at the beach in front of you. Rafe noticed this and without another word, took off his blazer and put it on top of you.

Before you could thank him, you heard a familar shout behind you.

"Y/N!" Sarah ran out to you and Rafe. She was breathless, taking a moment to catch her breathe before continuing. "Fuck Nick. My gosh, I've wanted to say that this whole week. He's so annoying. I'm glad you saw his true colors sooner rather than later, Y/N."

She took a seat between you and Rafe, seperating you. She saw that you were wearing his blazer and she smirked to herself.

"Wow." She said, simply. "Kie owes me 15$"

You and Rafe both looked each other then back at Sarah. "What?"

772 notes · View notes

mandos-mind-trick · 1 year ago

Text

The Garden - NSFW Version

Summary: Six years after the sudden death of your father, you return to his beloved home to restore it to its former glory. A series of strange events leads you to find a friend in a strange horse that appears on your property. Little do you know there’s more to this horse than meets the eye.

Pairing: Kix x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, monster AU, kelpie!Kix, minor character death at the start, grief, magic, shapeshifting, loosely based on folklore, cultural differences, no foreplay, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, sex in the rain.

A/N: This is the NSFW version of the fic. It's slightly longer due to the smut at the end, but if you would prefer to read the SFW version, it is linked down below. This was originally going to be a kinktober day but this story got a bit away from me and wound up less...kinky I'd say than I planned. So instead I'm posting it just as a monster/horror/regular smut fic. (though there is a bit of a praise kink at the end 👀)

MASTERLIST | SFW VERSION

It’s a day you’d rather forget.

Your father had spent hours and hours of his time making the house perfect, making the yard perfect. He wanted everything to be perfect, but he’d never get to see it.

It happened suddenly. You’d been the one to find him, searching for him in the backyard, in the labyrinth of paths and bushes and trees. You’d found him lying there in the grass almost like he was taking a nap, but you knew him better than that. The panic that had risen in your throat was like nothing you’d ever felt, your scream heard clear in the house as you’d desperately tried CPR, but it was too late.

To say it was a shock was an understatement.

Now you’re sitting in the pristine grass he had mowed every other day without fail. His pride and joy was being tarnished by tents and plastic chairs. You tried to listen as some “mate” he’d had in college spoke about their time together, telling stories you’d never heard, referencing a man who was nothing more than a pile of ashes sitting on a table in front of the begonias he’d lovingly planted for your mother. She was crying into your grandmother’s shoulder, sobs wracking her body.

But you don’t cry.

Instead something is rising in you, something twisting, threatening to choke you. There were too many people, most of them you didn’t know, sitting in his lawn and tarnishing it with their heels and their shoes. He would have hated it, the holes in his golf course grade grass, the shoe prints that would no doubt be left imprinted in the grass thanks to the rain the night before. Footprints in the dirt of his precious gardens, trampling his flowers, squishing the only thing that mattered to him in this world beside you and your mother.

You can’t stand it anymore.

You don’t care that people stare as you get up from your seat, walking out of the sweltering tent. The sun is high, heating the ground beneath your feet as you take off running, losing your shoes in the process. You don’t care, feet squelching in the wet grass, then the underbrush as you force your way into the trees along the property line. You run through the trees, ignoring the branches grabbing at you, the leaves snagging in your hair, the roots tempting to trip you, tangle your feet and send you to the ground. Tears have blurred your vision now, running blindly, trying to get away from the pain, the...wrongness behind you.

Finally a root jumps up and grabs you, tangling around your ankles, sending you to the ground. The mud is wet as you hit it, splattering on your black clothes but you don’t care. You don’t even bother to pull yourself up, laying in the mud as you sob. You miss your father, you miss his quirks, the things you never appreciated before. The things you never paid attention to that you should have. The things you’d never get to do again, the things you’d never get to hear or see again. All the sorrow wells at once, the numbness of the past few days wearing off.

A splash near you draws you from your grieving, your head snapping to the side, finding a small lake. You had no idea it was there. Then again, you hadn’t spent much time in the forest by your house. Your father had always warned you of faeries but you’d never believed him. Faeries were children’s stories.

But the horse head staring at you from the lake has you questioning that.

It’s black as night, reeds tangled in its black hair. It's submerged up to its milky white eyes, no bubbles appearing where its nose is in the water. You have to be hallucinating. The past few days had gotten to you finally and you were seeing things. That was it. Maybe you’d hit your head when you were falling and this was all just a dream.

You stay still as the horse begins to move closer, its head rising up out of the water now. A low buzzing begins in your ears, rising in pitch until it almost sounds like...music. You’re entranced, staring at the horse as it stands still. Something draws you towards it, something tells you to touch it, not to fear the water but to jump in and climb on its back.

The cold lake water startles you from your trance. You hadn’t even noticed you had moved, kneeling at the edge of the water, wet mud threatening to suction you into place. It’s soaking your clothes but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Your name being shouted through the trees drags you from your thoughts. You lower your hand, realizing it had been reaching out towards the horse. It’s gone, taking all trace of it having been there, not even a ripple on the surface of the water left. Maybe it had been a hallucination all along.

Arms are wrapping around you, pulling you from the edge of the water.

“Stay away from there!” A woman is saying, chastising you for getting close to the lake. Your head is swimming, the buzzing still in your ears. “Those waters are dangerous.”

Something is wrapped around your shoulders, and you find you're shivering despite the warm sun above you. You recognize who it came from, the overwhelming scent of aftershave reaching your nose.

You're led back to the house and taken inside. Your mother is there instantly, worrying over you. You numbly allow yourself to be led to the couch, Jeffrey sitting you down on it. He lived two doors down with his mother, and more than once had come calling on you with any excuse he could use to do so. You thought he was sweet, but that was it.

Someone is speaking, someone else is handing you a glass of water. But everything seems distant to you. Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe you were in a coma and this was all some sick fantasy brought on by delirium.

You know that’s not the case. The brain wasn’t capable of thinking all these people up, all the things that you’d seen, all the people you’d met over the past few days were real.

Your dad being dead was real.

You sip the water, letting people fuss around you. Jeffrey is sitting next to you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders supportively. You’re still wet, the cold water grounding you, but it was also a reminder of what you’d seen. The horse in the water. How you had been so drawn to it, wanting to touch it, willing to walk into the lake to get to it.

The thought scares you more than anything that had happened the past few days ever could.

***

Six years.

Your mother had held onto the house for six years.

She moved you both to town, unable to stare at the work your father had put in. The constant reminders of him were too much for her to handle and so she’d run from it. You had returned once you had your own car. You had constantly driven past it, pulled into the driveway to stare at it. It looked sad, like something out of a fairytale. The outside needed repainted, the yard had overgrown, starting to take back the house as well. The garden your father had put so much work into and the bushes were all dead. It was like the forest was slowly creeping in, retaking the land as its own.

Six years and you had finally graduated from high school, gone to college and gotten a useless degree. Six years to work up the courage to ask your mother for the keys, wanting some place to stay that wasn’t the cramped apartment rife with your mother and her sorrows.

Finally it was yours.

You start with the house, cleaning it up inside. It was dusty and damp after the six years it had been closed up. You air it out, sweeping and dusting every inch, making it shine, just like it had six years ago. The yard, however, was something else. Its glory was gone, shriveled up and overgrown from six years of neglect. You knew you could never return it to its full glory, but at least you could try. Spring is coming, the days slowly lengthening and getting warmer. You want to get it cleaned up so you can begin planting soon.

A few days go by without incident. You finish fixing up the interior of the house and begin on the exterior. Ivy has made itself at home on one side of the house, and it desperately needs repainting. The roof needs to be cleaned as well, moss growing on the side facing the forest. It truly feels like the forest had slowly been reaching out, trying to reclaim the land.

For a moment you feel as if you should let it, as you watch the ivy peel back from the side of the house. What was the point of cleaning up the house? Your father is gone. He won’t ever see it again.

You push the thought away, finishing your work for the day.

It’s after dark when it happens for the first time. You had been making dinner after closing up the house when a low buzzing had started to sound in your ears. You look around, wondering if perhaps it’s one of the lights. You move around the room, standing next to each one, but the buzzing never changes in tone or volume.

You flick the lights off, but the buzzing doesn't cease. The moon is out, illuminating the lawn as you stare out the window. Your lips part in a gasp as you catch a shadowy form standing in the long grass. You move closer to the window, blinking in shock.

It looks like...a horse.

Its eyes glint in the darkness, reflecting the light of the moon. A feeling of uneasiness washes over you, the buzzing in your ears feeding the fear starting to bud in the back of your mind. Your hand shakes as you reach for the curtain, quickly drawing it closed. The room is bathed in darkness and you fumble for the lightswitch, the buzzing stopping as soon as the light flicks on.

You breathe in the sudden silence, your heart thudding in your chest. There was a horse in your yard. You turn back to the kitchen, trying to calm the fear gnawing at you. Maybe one of the neighbors had gotten a horse and it somehow escaped into your yard. There was certainly plenty for a horse to eat in the overgrown yard.

Perhaps you should make a visit to the neighbors again. It has been years since you’ve seen them. You can let them know one of their horses is escaping at night.

***

None of your neighbors have horses.

You try to process the thought as you work on painting the exterior of the house. You had visited them the day before, making them known of your return to your childhood home. You had asked briefly about the horse, but you’d gotten nothing but shrugs and one strange look from Jeffrey’s mother.

Perhaps it had escaped from somewhere outside of the neighborhood then. There were many farms all across the countryside. The horse could have wandered in from anywhere. Hell, the horse could have been a hallucination for all you know. A trick of the shadows.

For all you know there was no horse at all.

The thought sends a shiver down your spine, something in the back of your mind prickling. You get the sudden feeling you’re being watched. You turn on the ladder, glancing at the forest behind you. You scan the treeline, but there’s nothing in the thick underbrush.

Your father had always warned you about going into the forest as a child. Forests are strange places, and while there were no large predators you had to worry about, there were...other things. The trees were tricky and liked to play games, making you get lost on purpose.

And the faeries.

You had believed him, at least as a child. Then you brushed him off as you grew older. Faeries were nothing but stories and legends.

Still, you never ventured into the forest. Something about it has always given you goosebumps, making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight.

You turn away from the trees, resuming your painting. You want to get it done and dry before the weather turns wet with the coming spring. You have a lot to do before then.

The buzzing returns that night.

You’re in bed this time, tucked away upstairs in your old room. It hadn’t felt right, sleeping in what was your parents' old room. Some of your dads stuff is still in there, and you don’t feel brave enough to start looking through it. Not yet.

You had just been drifting off to sleep when the buzzing started, pulling you from the precious slumber. Your heart jumps in your chest, fear buzzing through you almost as loud as the buzzing in your ears. Your gaze turns towards the window overlooking the front yard. What would you see if you got up and looked? Will the shadowy horse figure be there again?

Your breathing picks up as you hear the familiar creak of the porch steps. The front door is locked, you had made sure of it twice before you retired to bed, but that doesn’t stop the fear screaming in the back of your mind.

Your legs are shaking as you rise from the bed, slowly tiptoeing to the window. You glance down at the yard, but you can’t see anything. The porch continues to creak, slow, heavy footsteps making their way around the side of the house.

You open your door, glancing down the hallway towards the stairs. You let out a breath, cursing the fact everything you could use as a weapon is downstairs in the kitchen. You tiptoe along the hallway, making your way slowly down the stairs.

You stare at the kitchen window as you make your way to the bottom of the steps, the curtains thin enough you can make out something moving on the porch in the moonlight. You sink down, making yourself as small as possible as you hold your breath.

There’s a horse on your porch.

It’s unmistakable, its shadow illuminated through the kitchen window. You’re afraid, breaths ragged and shaky as you stare at the figure through the window. You wonder if it can see you even in the darkness. Its head turns towards the window, ears flickering. You hold your breath, the buzzing in your ears getting louder.

It almost sounds like...music.

A deep, sad song begins to come through the buzzing like a radio picking up a distant signal. Tears fill your eyes as something tugs deeply in your chest. The grief from the last six years comes back to the surface, the house suddenly feeling so large and empty. You want to escape, you want to run out the door. You can’t stand it, being alone. The house was supposed to be full of light and laughter and happy memories. It’s so cold and empty now.

The creak of a board on the porch snaps you from your thoughts, your body halfway to the front door. You hadn’t even realized you had gotten up. You stumble back, racing for the stairs and back up to your room. You push your desk in front of the door before diving under the covers, putting a pillow over your head to try and block out the buzzing music.

***

You let out a shriek as you leave the house two days later.

Standing in your yard is a black horse.

It’s just standing there, staring right at you, unmoving. Your hand is on the doorknob, ready to rush back inside. There’s no buzzing this time, no song. It’s morning, the sun coming over the hills. The world is damp from how cold it was last night. There’s no hoofprints in the tall grass, no sign of the horse trampling through it. You wonder how long it’s been there.

“Can I help you?” You ask, feeling stupid as the words leave your mouth. You’re talking to a horse.

Its ears flick at your words and it continues to stare at you for a moment before it lowers its head, starting to graze on the tall grass. You relax just slightly, your hand slipping off the doorknob. Perhaps it’s just a lost horse, come to graze on your jungle. The other neighbors all keep their lawns well kept, so you can rationalize why a horse would choose this yard over theirs.

Maybe this was the horse you’ve been seeing at night too, simply making itself at home where there’s plenty of food. Maybe you’ve been imagining the buzzing, the music. Maybe the emptiness of your home truly is getting to you.

Your foot hits something as you take a step forward, drawing your gaze downward. Sitting on your porch is a silver halter. You glance at the horse, its eyes on you as you bend down to pick it up. The leather is soft and worn, diamonds lining the sides and the nose. The buckles shine like new, and you wonder if they’re real silver.

You glance back at the horse, finding it staring at you as it chews. You take a cautious step forward, then another. The horse doesn’t move, staying still as you make your way down the creaky steps.

“Is this yours?” You ask, holding the halter up.

The horse bobs its head before bending back down to graze.

You blink in shock. Did the horse just...nod? You take a couple steps forward, closer to the horse. It’s big, tall and strong even with its head bent. Its coat is slick and shiny in the morning light, its mane thick and curly and long enough it drags on the ground when it eats. It’s a beautiful horse, and you can’t imagine someone just leaving it here.

“Aren’t you...supposed to be wearing this?” You say, holding up the halter.

The horse rears back, letting out a loud neigh as you approach. You stumble back as it moves away from you, staring at you with a cautious look. Your heart is pounding in your throat, short breaths puffing in the cool air.

“Okay, okay.” You hold your hand out, your fingers trembling. “You don’t have to wear it.” The horse continues to watch you as you make your way back up the steps. “I’ll just...put it inside so it doesn’t get damaged.”

The horse is grazing again when you step back outside, almost like nothing had happened.

You watch it for a few moments before sighing. “I guess if you’re going to help with the yard you can stay.”

You should put up a poster at the general store in town about the stray horse that’s made itself at home on your property. You go about your day, the horse contently grazing on your long grass, paying you no mind. It’s nice, not being alone, even if your companion is a mysterious stray horse that apparently understands you. You’ve always heard horses are very intelligent, though, so perhaps it wasn’t that strange it was able to answer you.

You work on repairs outside the house until sunset, tired and sore from all the work you’ve been doing. You haven’t even touched the garden yet. You should pull out the lawnmower tomorrow and at least get the grass trimmed down. Make it look like more of a yard.

You turn around, nearly jumping out of your skin as you find the horse right behind you. You hadn’t even heard it approach you, not even its footsteps on the stone path to the front door.

You put a hand on your chest, taking a deep breath. “You’re a sneaky thing, aren’t you.”

An almost mischievous look flashes in its eyes, so fast you almost don’t notice. Almost. You take a deep breath, calming your racing heart as it stretches out its head, sniffing at your sweatshirt. You hesitantly reach up, resting your hand on its face. Its hair is silky and smooth under your hand, almost feeling faintly damp.

It blows out a breath, pressing its face into your hand. You scratch its nose, a smile tugging at your lips as it moves its head with your hand.

“It’s nice, not being alone.” You say, gently patting his head. “Things didn’t used to be this way. But, maybe someday they won’t be anymore.” You pat his head before pulling away.

He watches you walk up the porch steps, and you take one last look at him before you close the door, locking it.

You relax on the couch after dinner, your eyes drawn to the halter sitting on the coffee table. You pick it up, feeling the weight of it in your hands. It’s heavy from the diamonds, and you just know it has to be expensive. You turn it in your hands, looking at the other side. The leather is worn, which must mean it gets used often. It probably looks good on the horse, the silver contrasting its dark hair.

On the back of the nosepiece is three letters embroidered in the leather.

KIX.

Are they initials? Or perhaps the horse’s name is Kix.

There’s no other markings, no other indication of the owner’s information anywhere. You run your fingers over the soft leather again before you set it back on the coffee table, heading off to bed.

***

The horse is standing in your lawn again the next morning. You’re less afraid this time, walking down the steps without pause. It watches you, its tail flicking. There’s something about its stare, those dark eyes watching you with almost human understanding. It sends a shiver down your spine, fear tickling the back of your mind again.

You shove it aside as you pull the lawnmower out of the shed, sighing as you stare at the expanse of lawn you’re going to have to mow.

You turn to look at the horse, its eyes on you. “There was a name on the halter.” You say, leaning against the lawnmower. “Kix, I think.”

The horse bobs its head in a nod.

“Is that...your name?”

It nods again.

A smile tugs at your lips. “Are you...a boy horse?”

It nods once more, before lowering its head to graze. So that was his name on the halter. You still can’t help but wonder who he belongs to. Surely someone was looking for him.

Kix continues to graze mindlessly as you mow the tall weeds and grass. As you said you would, you leave a small patch for him to graze on in the back of the house, away from the street and the front door. You know it’s only a matter of time before the neighbors notice your mysterious visitor. You’re surprised none of them have come knocking yet.

The day grows warmer, the sun bearing down on you as you mow the lawn, working your way in a circle around the house. You finish up back by the shed, shutting the lawnmower off before you collapse in the newly cut lawn, breathing heavily.

Footsteps crunch through the grass before you’re staring upside down at Kix’s nose. His lips tickle your forehead as he sniffs at your head, your hand pushing his nose away. You push yourself up to sit, wiping the sweat from your brow.

“I don’t know how my dad did this, like, every day.” You say, running your hand over the short grass. “He loved his lawn. He loved his yard. He loved his garden.” You shake your head, staring at the tangled vines and dead bushes, the weeds that have taken over where meticulously planted flowers used to bloom every spring. “Now look at it.”

Tears burn your eyes. You don’t have the skills your father had, the knowledge, the drive to make and keep the landscaping so beautiful.

“It deserves so much better than this.” You say, shaking your head. “He deserves so much better.”

Kix nudges against your back, nickering softly. You sniffle, wiping the tear that slides down your cheeks. You knew it would be a lot of work, and you knew you could never restore it to what your father had. You could still try. You could still make it look decent. If nothing else, you could at least clean it up.

***

Kix is there every day, greeting you at the porch every morning. He hovers behind you often as you begin to work on the garden, snacking on weeds and helping you clear bushes. As soon as you cut one down, he drags it to your trash pile for you.

You talk to him as you work, telling him all about your family, your dad, your life after you left. You worry about your mom, but you know she’s doing what’s best for her, just as you are.

Kix seems to understand you, not in the way animals do, but in a human way. It’s a bit unnerving sometimes, the way he looks at you as you’re speaking. You have little experience with horses, though, so you can’t be sure if it’s all that unusual.

You like having him around. The house feels less empty, even if he stays outside. You haven’t had any strange experiences since he showed up, so you can’t complain. You had begun to question if coming back out here was worth it. Now you’re glad you came back, and you decided to stay.

You get the garden and the areas around the yard cleared, everything looking so bare now. There were a few bushes still standing, Kix having pushed you away from some of them. You had left them with a shrug, moving on to others that were dead and crumpled. Deciding what to plant was going to be harder.

You do research, looking at various plants that not only look good together, but also will be easy to manage. You’ll be spending a lot of money, but it’ll be worth it.

Kix is surprisingly absent the morning your plants get delivered. You don’t see him until the delivery truck is long gone, and you’re hauling plants around the yard to their respective places.

In fact, any time you get visitors, he makes himself scarce, even when it’s the neighbors. It’s odd, but perhaps he’s just shy. You don’t blame him. You weren’t the biggest fan of all of the neighbors, but you’ve known most of them since you were a child.

Jeffrey’s mother comes to visit one day as you’re working on planting some seeds for flowers. You invite her in for tea, sweaty and dirty but she doesn’t seem to mind. Kix is gone, having disappeared silently before she arrived. Sometimes he moved so swiftly and silently it almost seemed unnatural.

“How have you been, dear?” Jeffrey’s mother asks you.

You shrug, pouring the tea. “It’s strange, being back. The house seems so empty.”

“The yard looks lovely. I’m sure it will be positively stunning come summer.” She says, looking out the window. “Your father would be proud.”

A bitter smile forms on your face. “I’m sure he would be. I’m not nearly as talented as he is.”

She turns from the window, her eyes spotting the halter on the table. She gasps, covering her mouth as she stares at it. “W-Where did you get that?”

You frown, eyeing the halter before looking back at her. “It showed up on my doorstep.” You say. “With a black horse.”

She rushes towards you with surprising speed, grabbing you by the arms. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone into the woods again! Don’t tell me you’ve gone back to that place!”

“W-What are you talking about?” You frown at her. “I’ve never gone into the woods.”

Her grip on your arms loosens just slightly. “You don’t remember. The day of your father’s funeral. You ran from the service like a sinner fleeing church straight into the woods. We found you out by the lake, right on the edge of the water.”

Your ears begin to buzz with the familiar sound as images flash through your mind. You remember being angry at everyone for ruining your father’s yard. You remember running from the service, running through the trees. You remember feeling like they were grabbing at you, trying to pull you in all directions. You remember falling, you remember the buzzing sound and the horse in the water. The black horse with milky white eyes.

“You must get rid of it.” She says, staring at the halter. “Do not go near that horse again. It will only bring you death.”

You sit on the couch, staring at the halter after she leaves. Things begin to click into place as the memory of that day, the memory of what you saw, the memories of the strange events when you returned replay in your mind.

Your father had warned you about lakes in the area, that there was a legend about shapeshifting horses that would lure you into the water and drown you. You had brushed him off, just as you had about other things. You know what you saw that day, though. You had nearly been a victim of one yourself.

And you’ve been talking with it every day for the last few weeks.

It hasn’t seemed like it wanted to hurt you. But it’s understanding of your words, it’s knowledge, it’s manner, even its eyes tell you everything. You’ve been spending every day with a kelpie.

***

You leave the house the next day, halter in hand. It’s a foggy morning, colder than it should be. It feels fitting as you approach the dark figure waiting in your yard. You stare at its too human eyes, holding the halter tightly in your hand.

“You’re no horse, are you?” You ask, your heart thudding in your chest so hard you’re certain he might be able to hear it. “It was you that day, wasn’t it? You were going to kill me.”

The horse blows out a breath, taking a step closer to you. You take half a step back, holding the halter up between you like it might protect you. He takes another step forward, stretching out his neck to nose at the halter. He wants you to put it on him, you discern.

You’re not sure what will happen when you put it back on. He doesn’t look like that horse in the water without it, but will that change? Will he turn back into the murderous beast he’s supposed to be? He could kill you in this form. A well aimed kick would do the job. Why would he want to be in his other form to do it? Would it be easier? Quicker for you.

Or perhaps the halter will allow him to communicate easier with you.

It’s a risk you’re going to have to take.

Your hands shake as you fit the halter onto his face, having to try a couple times to get it in the right position. As soon as you buckle it the buzzing begins again in your ears. You stumble back a couple steps, Kix shaking his head before he stares at you again. His eyes are milky white, his coat dripping with water as if he’d just climbed from the lake. You stare in horror as his body begins to contort, his bones snapping.

You stumble back a couple more steps, your feet slipping in the damp grass, sending you sprawling onto your back as he shifts and changes, and suddenly you’re staring at a man.

He’s tall and strong, rippling with muscles. Your cheeks grow hot as he steps towards you, damp curls falling onto his forehead. He’s naked, tanned skin on display, save for a silver chain around his neck. His eyes are dark, not unlike those of the horse.

You scramble back as he squats in front of you, but his hand catches your leg, keeping you still. The buzzing becomes almost unbearable, pulsing in your head like a migraine. Cold skin touches yours as you screw your eyes closed, the buzzing beginning to quiet to almost nothing.

“I apologize.” A deep, accented voice says. “I did not realize you were so sensitive to magic.”

You crack your eyes open, staring up into deep brown eyes. He’s squatting over you, his hand on your cheek. His skin is cold to the touch, though he’s likely been out in the cold all night.

“You....you’re...” You stutter out, staring up into his handsome face. He is handsome, his face like what you would expect to find sculpted out of marble in a museum.

“I am a kelpie, yes.” He says.

“W-Why....why?” You ask, shaking under him as he stares down at you with a mix of emotions on his face.

“Let’s get you inside, then I will explain everything.” He says, gently hauling you to your feet.

It’s possibly dangerous, allowing a kelpie into your home but you’re not in a state of mind to protest. At least this way your body won’t be laying in the yard for days, you think. At least this way you won’t face the same fate as your father.

He’s shockingly gentle as wraps a blanket around you, sitting you on the couch. He’s still completely naked and dripping water and here he is taking care of you. Your face is still hot despite the chill to your fingers.

“There’s a towel in the closet.” You say, trying not to stare at him. “A-And some clothes that might fit.”

He nods, stepping away from you finally. You sink down onto the couch, staring out the window as he digs through the closet by the bathroom. He comes back a few moments later with a towel wrapped around his shoulders and sweatpants covering his bottom half. They were your fathers, the spare he kept downstairs in case of emergencies.

He sits down on the opposite end of the couch from you, staring at you. You pull your knees to your chest, tucking the blanket tight around you as you stare back. You can hardly believe you just watched the horse you’d spent the last few weeks interacting with shapeshift into a human.

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask, wanting to get it out of the way first.

He shakes his head. “No. That was never my intention. Though, I did consider it briefly when you appeared on the shore of my lake. It is simply my nature.” He shrugs.

“Why didn’t you?” You ask.

“I could sense something about you. The deep sadness within you, and something else that I now know is your sensitivity to magic.” He explains. “I was curious about you. I watched you every day until you left. I waited six years for your return.”

Your heart is still thudding in your chest. “You were on my porch.” Is all you can think to say.

“Yes.” He nods. “I wanted to see you again. I tried to draw you out, but you were resistant to my magic.”

“That’s why...you gave me your halter?” You ask.

He nods, stroking the silver chain around his neck. “It is what gives me my power. Without it, I am hardly more than a regular horse.”

“So...if I took that off...you’d turn back into a horse?” You ask, eyeing the chain.

He nods. “Yes, and I could not change back until you placed the halter back on.”

“Why...why did you wait for all those years? Why did you find me?” You ask.

“You are very beautiful.” He says, a soft look in his eyes. “And I was curious about you. My normal form was too much for you, and I knew I had to gain your trust, so I gave you the source of my power to do with what you wished. I would have remained a horse forever if that is what you wanted of me.”

Your lips part in a gasp at his words. It sounds so very romantic from someone you just found out is actually a shapeshifting horse. You’ve known him for quite a while, but at the same time, you’ve only just met him.

“Kix,” You swallow thickly. “I-I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

He scoots closer to you, taking your hand in his. His skin is still cool to the touch, even against your slowly warming skin. “I wish to be with you, if you will have me.” He says, sincerity shining in his eyes. “I will stay with you until you cast me out. If you wish for me to remain a horse, I will do so. You will carry my halter for all eternity, just as you carry my heart.”

You flounder as you stare at him. It’s all very sudden, though you suppose the courting rituals of supposed mythical creatures is a bit different than a human’s. “This...this is moving very quickly.” You say, shifting so you’re sitting on the edge of the couch. “I...I considered you a friend, as a horse. It was nice having someone around. This place...it’s so...empty and lonely now. It’s like a void when it once was full of life and joy.”

Kix’s arm wraps around your shoulders. “Let me help you fill that void. I will do whatever you ask of me.”

***

You keep Kix at arms length as the weeks pass. Human culture and customs are foreign to him, and you find yourself not only having to teach him, but having to move him often. He likes to be close to you, he likes to touch you. It’s strange after years of distance and sadness. He’s eager to do anything you ask of him, sticking close to you almost every hour of every day he can. He only disappears every few days to return to his lake, usually late at night. He’s always back by morning, sometimes in horse form, but usually in his human form.

He helps you with the yard, eager to mow it as often as you ask him to after you teach him to use the lawnmower. He does it with almost no effort, always leaving a small patch for his horse-self. He helps you with the plants as well, the flowers you’ve planted growing and blooming, and the bushes he’d pushed you away from while you were clearing things out beginning to grow back as well.

It’s not as good as your father would have done. You still like to think he’d be proud, though.

The spring rains arrive, bringing a steady downpour for days. It leaves you and Kix mostly cooped up inside for an extended period for the first time since he revealed himself to you. He begins to grow a bit restless, and you hear him sneaking off every night to return to his lake, or perhaps just to run around for a while. You feel a bit bad, keeping him cooped up, but he offered no complaint. He could leave if he wanted, you had made that clear, but he stays dutifully at your side.

Things begin to change as the rains continue, the dynamic between you shifting. He stands closer again, hands lingering when he touches you. He sits closer to you, stares at you more.

Things shift even more one night when you’re making dinner. He had been setting the table as you chopped vegetables for a salad when your knife slipped, cutting into your skin. You drop it with a hiss, watching the blood bead along the edges of the cut before sliding down your hand in a steady stream.

He’s there in an instant, hands cupping yours. He stares at your cut and for a moment you’re afraid he might snap, he might change, his promises might go out the window. Were kelpies like sharks? Would they lose all senses of themselves in the presence of blood? You had done a little reading on kelpies, but sources were varied and contradictory. Of course, you could have asked the actual kelpie in your house, but you’re never quite sure how to broach the subject.

He wraps the dishcloth around your hand before leading you to the couch. He sits you down before gently unwrapping your hand. The dishcloth is stained and will have to be thrown out. His cool hands close around your injured one, surprising warmth blossoming across your skin as he closes his eyes. The buzzing begins in your ears again, vibrating through your whole being. He brings your hands to his face, whispering something inaudibly before he blows against your hand.

He slowly removes his own hands, and your eyes widen as you see nothing but smeared blood on your skin. Not even a line where the cut had been. The buzzing dies down to a quiet murmur, where it always was with him near. He wipes the blood from your hand and from his with the ruined dish towel.

“How did you do that?” You ask, still staring at your hand in awe.

“Magic.” He states simply, his breath fanning your face.

You look up from your hand, finding him so close you can see the small imperfections of his face. The light stubble growing on his cheeks, the light smattering of freckles on his nose, the crease between his eyebrows. His arm wraps around your waist as he leans in closer, eyes fluttering closed as he presses his lips to yours.

You freeze in shock, stiffening in his arms as his cool lips touch yours. You weren’t expecting it, and it’s a bit forward, but you don’t dislike it.

He tears himself away from you, jumping up from the couch. He looks horrified, eyes wide and wild like a startled horse. “Forgive me.” He stutters out before he flings the door open, racing out into the rain.

“Wait-Kix!” You yell, running to the door but he’s already gone, disappeared into the night.

You glance back at the house before you take off running towards the trees. The rain pelts against your skin but you don’t care, the memories of your father’s funeral fresh in your mind as you break through the treeline, entering the forest.

It feels as strange as it did that day, the branches and bushes and roots seeming to reach out to you as you run. You call out to Kix, but he’s completely disappeared. You pause to breathe, looking every which way, but you’re not even sure which direction you came from anymore. You’re not even sure he entered the forest at all.

“Kix!” You call out loudly, starting to run forward again, hoping you’re going in the right direction. “Kix, come back!”

A root reaches out and trips you, sending you into the mud. The canopy of trees blocks out some of the rain, but it still slips through, misting down onto the forest floor. You push yourself onto your knees, spotting a lake just through the bushes. You crawl through, ignoring the way the bush tears at your clothes and skin.

You stop at the edge of the lake, looking out at the water. It’s alive with the falling raindrops, your hands and knees sinking into the mud as you kneel at the edge of the water.

“Kix!” You call out again, crawling forward until your hands are in the water. “Kix, please!”

It’s cold, the rain having soaked you to the bone. You’re shivering, your heart thudding in your chest. You’re not even sure this is the right lake. Nothing looks familiar, but then again, you haven’t been here in six years.

The water begins to ripple, dark ears and milky eyes peeking above the surface.

“Kix!” You call out. “Please...come back. I-I liked it.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “I’d like you to kiss me again.”

The horse sinks back under the water, your heart still thudding in your chest. A sudden horrible thought races through your mind. Was this even Kix? Was there more than one lake in the forest? Had you just signed your death warrant because of your foolish desperation?

The water ripples, a familiar curly-haired head appearing from the depths as Kix slowly makes his way forward to the shore in his human form. He drops to his knees in front of you, the buzzing sounding in your ears as he cups your face. His skin is frigid, even against your own chilled cheeks.

“That was foolish, coming after me.” He says, almost shouting over the pouring rain.

“Why did you run?” You ask, shivering from the cold.

“You did not kiss me back. I thought perhaps I overstepped. I thought you were angry with me, that you might throw me out.”

“It surprised me,” You say, looking up into his dark eyes. “I-I wasn’t expecting it. But I liked it, and I’d like you to do it again.”

He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. You breathe each other in for a moment before he’s closing the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. His skin is frigid and offers no respite to the cold mud seeping into your pants, or the rain pelting down around you.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you tight against him. You’re shivering, fingers and toes long having gone numb in the freezing rain. He moans into your mouth as you bite his lower lip, your tongue slipping in to tangle with his. His hands slide down to your waist, wrapping around you tightly.

He lifts you, pulling you slightly up the bank before your back meets soft grass. You part your legs for him, his naked body slipping between them. The rain pelts down around you but you don't care, his hands making quick work of your soaked clothes. Despite your nakedness, the chill is leaving you as your body warms with arousal, his cold hands dragging along every inch of exposed skin.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this.” He says, nipping at your neck as his hands squeeze at your body. “So long for you.”

“Take me.” You gasp, hands grabbing at his curls, at his body as much as he is yours. “I’m yours.”

He lets out a content hum, pulling away only to pull your pants off. They disappear in the grass with a wet plop but you don’t care, laying naked in the dirt and rain under him. His cock is hard as he stares down at you, slick and laid open for him.

Your fingers sink into the mud as he drags his cock along your slit. His eyes are dark as he stares down at you, lining himself up. Your lips part in a gasp as he presses into you, stretching you open. It burns, your hands pulling him down against you. You cling to him, meshing your lips together in an attempt to distract yourself from the pain. He’s so big, stretching you open as he presses into you.

Your head falls back as he bottoms out, pressed entirely into you. Your body buzzes with energy, fingers sinking into his skin as the sensation becomes almost unbearable.

“You can take it.” He moans into your ear. “You can take it. That’s it.”

You clamp around him, a breathy moan leaving your lips. You feel him smirk against your jaw, his hips rolling against yours as he slowly begins thrusting into you.

“Such a good girl for me, offering yourself to me like this.” He says. “You’re mine.”

“Yours.” You gasp, walls fluttering around him at his praise. “All yours.”

A low noise rumbles through his chest as he speeds up his movements, fucking into you faster and harder. The dirt at your back bites into your skin as your body moves from the force of his thrusts.

“Kix!” You gasp, pleasure mixing with the buzzing under your skin. It’s becoming too much, warmth pooling in your belly.

“Such a tight pussy, taking me so well.” He groans in your ear, nipping at the shell. “Going to cum for me? Going to cum around my cock?”

“Yes!” You cry out, back arching against him.

“Good girl.” He all but growls. “Going to fill you with my seed. Can you take it?”

Your eyes roll back at his words, your mind hazy and buzzing. “Yes! Yes! Please give it to me!” You cry.

His hips drag along your clit as he fucks into you wildly, your orgasm slamming into you. You cum with a cry, milking his cock as you writhe under him.

“Yes!” He groans. “Yes, take it.” He slams his hips into yours, his hot release spilling into you.

You groan at the feeling, toes curling in the mud as he fills you in the middle of the forest. It’s so carnal and wild, your body streaked with dirt and soaked from the rain.

He collapses on top of you, his heavy body pinning you down. You wrap your arms around him, the warmth of your skin contrasting the chill of his. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you passionately.

“Ride me.” He breathes against your lips.

You pull back to stare at him. “Didn’t we just-”

“No,” He laughs. “I want you to ride me.”

Your mouth falls open. “Oh, right. Okay.”

He pulls away from you, stepping back into the water before his body contorts and cracks, shifting back into its horse form. He kneels in front of you in the mud and you slide onto his back, not caring that you’re naked. You wrap your arms around his neck as he stands, his hooves kicking up mud and water as he takes off running into the trees.

You cling on for dear life but you can’t help the laugh that tears from your throat as the rain and wind whips at your bare skin. You feel happy and free for the first time in a long time.

Taglist:

@rosechi @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @wolffegirlsunite @jedi-hawkins @sinfulsalutations @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @clio3kantarella @eris-k @thorsterstrudle @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @sleepingsun501 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @523rdrebel @thrawnspetgoose @originalcollectionartistry @gwalchmai2970 @maddiedrmr @sunshinesdaydream @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mooncommlink @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @ghostperson69 @captain_rexs_cyare @jediknightjana

#star wars #star wars fic #the clone wars #the clone wars fic #clone medic kix x reader #clone thirsting #x reader

157 notes · View notes