#golf gloves for both hands

[golfgarage2022]

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[esleep]

i actually do kinda like delivering groceries on the side because it gives me such a unique cross-section of the community. i never know whose groceries im shopping for until i finish the delivery and see them/their home and it's like it adds more detail to the picture of who they are. the baby supplies going to the apartment that i know for a fact is one bedroom (they'll be moving soon - i bet they're apartment hunting, i hope they find a place). the new cat litter box, bowl, and kitten food going to the house covered in "i <3 my dog" paraphernalia (a kitten definitely showed up on the porch recently and made itself at home). the fairly healthy boring grocery order that includes an incongruous tub of candy-filled ice cream going to the home of an elderly woman with toddler toys in the yard (it's clearly for her grandkids, whom she sees often).

shopping for someone else's groceries is a fairly intimate thing. i've bought condoms and pregnancy tests, allergy medicine and nyquil, baby benadryl and teething gel, a huge pile of veggies paired with an equally huge pile of junk food, tampons and shampoo and closet organizers and ant traps and deodorizing shoe inserts and a million other little things that tell a million different stories in their endless combinations. one time someone had me buy one single green bean. i messaged them to confirm that's actually what they wanted, and they said yes - neither of them liked green beans very much, but they had a baby they were introducing to solid foods, and they wanted to let him try one to see if he liked them. another time i had someone request 50 fresh roma tomatoes - not for a restaurant, but for a person in an apartment. the kitchen behind them smelled like basil and garlic when they opened the door. another time i brought groceries to three elderly blind women who share a house. that was one of the few times i have ever broken my rule and gone inside a place i've delivered to, because they asked if i could place the grocery bags in a specific location in the kitchen for them to work on unloading and there was no way i was going to refuse helping.

i gripe about the poor tippers, but people can also be incredibly kind. one time i took shelter from a sudden vicious hailstorm inside an older lady's home in a trailer park, while i was in the middle of delivering her groceries. we both huddled just inside the door, watching in shock as golf-ball-sized hail swept through for about five minutes and then disappeared. she handed me an extra $10 bill on my way out the door.

when covid was at its deadliest, people would leave extra (often lysol-scented) cash tips and thank-you notes for me taped to the door or partially under the mat. i especially loved the clearly kid-drawn thank you notes with marker renderings of blobby people in masks, or trees, or rainbows. in summer of 2020 i delivered to a nice older couple who lived outside of town in the hills, and they insisted i take a huge double handful of extra disposable gloves and masks to wear while shopping - those were hard to find in stores at the time, but they wanted me to have some of their supply and wouldn't take no for an answer.

anyway. all this to say people are mostly good, or at least trying to be, despite my complaints.

[tinylilacbun]

rafe x toddler!sister reader who is desperate to be a big girl so bad but forgets she still is really little and she’s out with rafe and his friends when they’re babysitting and has an accident because she doesn’t want to ask to go to the bathroom but she’s so embarrassed and sad that they’ve all seen her but rafe is all cute and takes care of her

Big Girl In His Eyes

Pairing: brother!rafe cameron x toddler!sister!reader

Warnings: reader has an accident, Rafe being soft, comfort, fluff, mentions of pull-ups

Rafe has been tasked with babysitting you, again. He has planned to go golf with Topper and Kelce for a while now and he wouldn't cancel again. So he simply decided to take you with him today.

He's holding you securely on his hip, the bag with his clubs slung over his shoulder and holding your smaller one in his hand as he walks towards his friends who are already waiting by a cart.

"Dude, what took you so long?" Topper asks crouching down the second Rafe lets you down, catching you in his arms when you run into them.

"Well, little miss here couldn't decide between wearing her glitter shoes or her blinking ones." Rafe sighs, placing both your bags in the cart.

"You just don't get it, Rafe. Right, kiddo?" Topper defends you and you giggle, nodding your head.

"Yea, chu no get it!" You stick your tongue out and Rafe raises an eyebrow.

"Watch it."

Some time into their golf session you quickly get bored as expected from a toddler with a short attention span, luckily your brother is prepared, at least he hopes he is as he grabs your hello kitty bag that Rose handed him before he left Tannyhill with you.

He rummages through the bag and sighs in relief when he finds some crayons and a Bluey coloring book, handing them to you he picks you up and sets you down at the ground of the cart so you could use the seat as a table.

"Just call me if you need something, a'ight? I'm right over there." He points to where Topper and Kelce are standing.

You nod, already engrossed in coloring.

After a while you start to squirm uncomfortably in your sitting position, the pressure in your bladder gets worse each passing minute. You whine, turning your head in Rafe's direction and see him getting into position to do his shot.

No. You're a big girl. You can hold it.

Rafe has just finished his turn and glances to where he left you, momentarily panicking when he doesn't see you but you suddenly tuck at his shirt and he sighs in relief, looking down to meet your gaze.

He furrows his brows in concern as he realizes that you're crying, quickly squatting down to be at eye level with you.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asks softly, his gloved hand reaching up to wipe at your cheeks.

You could only sniffle in response, your face heating up in embarrassment and not being able to look into his eyes and tell him what just happened.

Rafe gives you a once over until his eyes catch the visible stain on your white shorts. With a frown he instantly tries to calm you down. "It's okay, we'll get you changed real quick, yeah? C'mon."

"B-But the others gonna know..." You mumble, stepping closer to hide your face in his polo shirt.

"What, the guys? They didn't even notice anything." He says a little louder so Topper and Kelce get the hint when he pulls you back so you can see that they're not paying attention.

"The sun looks very sunny today." Kelce says shielding his eyes as he looks up at the sky and Topper does the same.

"Yeah, crazy." He agrees, their backs turned to you and Rafe.

"See, everything's okay." Your brother assures you, standing back up again he takes your hand in his, making his way over to the cart to grab your bag before walking towards the nearest bathroom.

He quickly gets to work, getting you out of your soiled clothes he cleans you up, grabbing a pull-up out of your bag he notices the way you pout at the sight of it.

"Look, I know you don't like them but it's nothing bad. You're still a big girl even while wearing those." He explains all the while changing you.

"Remember when we were on the mainland in that horror house attraction on some funfair? Sarah and Wheezie were screaming while you kept laughing." He chuckles at the memory.

You smile a little, rubbing your nose with your palm. "Was fun..."

"See, you're still a big girl and if anyone tells you otherwise just come to me and I'll take care of it, okay?" He says as he gets you in a pair of clean leggings. "There, all clean again."

"Love you, Rafey..." You smile at him, wrapping your short arms around his neck.

"I love you too, kid...let's get you something to eat, bet you must be hungry." He detaches himself from you, gathering your stuff and putting them back in your bag before he picks you up.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can you write something with caddie reader and Rafe going to the country club and booking her as caddie? thankss

Pardon my terrible golf knowledge...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The written duty of a caddie-girl is to carry the golf bag for the golfer. Although it sounds like an easy job, you are required to have a little golf knowledge…and let your mini skirt do the rest as people who golf at the country club are mostly men.

They won’t mind if you give them the wrong club as long as you giggle when you make a mistake or wear a short enough skirt. It’s pretty degrading and objectifying for women, but rich men give nice tips.

‘’I’m so sorry, Jeff. My alarm didn’t go off and my car wouldn’t start,’’ you explained in a rush to your boss, out of breath from running to the country club. ‘’It won’t happen again, I promise.’’

‘’You’re an hour late, Miss. Y/L/N. Your 9am client is waiting.’’ Jeff raised his eyes from his computer screen, looking at you with disappointment.

Shit. You didn’t think you would have a client so early in the morning.

‘’He specifically requested you for caddie, so save your apologies and excuses for him.’’

It must be Mr. Barclay. You’ve seen him sitting at the country club’s bar two days ago, drinking an old fashioned with a fellow club member. He always requested you as caddie. He said you reminded him of his granddaughter. You didn’t know if you should be flattered or disgusted.

You quickly dropped your personal stuff in your locker and headed to the golf course while rehearsing your apology monologue. It wasn’t in your habits to be late. Hopefully Mr. Barclay will be understanding.

When you got to the course, you searched for a silver fox, but instead you found a tall young man with a snapback and white glove in his right hand.

‘’There you are!’’ he said in exasperation, slinging his golf bag over his shoulder and walking to you.

‘’Rafe?’’

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. ‘’It’s Mr. Cameron for you,’’ he corrected with a shit-eating grin on his stupidly handsome face.

‘’You’re my 9am client?’’

Rafe hummed, his eyes scanning your body and smiling smugly when he saw your small skirt and tight polo. It hugged your curves in all the right places. ‘’Bet you were expecting some rich daddy, uh? I’m sorry to disappoint you.’’ He leaned closer, speaking the next words low enough so only you would hear them. ‘’If you want, you can call me Daddy Rafe.’’

You choked on air. Today was going to be a long day.

‘’Driver, please?’’ Rafe requested, when you arrived at the teeing ground.

You fished the right club from the bag and handed it to Rafe. ‘’Here.’’

‘’Thanks, babydoll.’’ He took the club and moved up to line it with the ball, and swung, his muscles flexing.

You both watched as it flew over a hundred yards in the air. Not bad.

‘’Where’s Topper?’’ you asked. ‘’You usually play with him.’’

‘’Not today. I had other plans.’’ Rafe gave you the club back. ‘’Shall we go find the ball?’’

You spent the next two hours walking along the steep cliffs and hills of the country club's golf course, watching Rafe swinging golf balls and showing off. Unfortunately, you didn’t care much for the sport. You were more interested in staring at Rafe’s muscles flexing and admiring how great his ass looked in those dress shorts.

‘’Want to have a try?’’

‘’Are you sure? I’ve never played golf before.’’

‘’You can do the next tee. I’ll show you how.’’

‘’Golf is more technical than it looks. You don't just swing the ball and hope for the best. There's a lot of factors to think about — the stance, posture, ball placement, and rotation all have to be considered for the perfect swing.’’

‘’First, the grip. Put your left hand at the top of the club and your right hand below the left,’’ Rafe instructed.’’

‘’Good. Now, the position.’’ He situated himself behind you and you tried not to shiver as his hands slowly traveled down your arms until they positioned themselves to cover your own, grasping gently. You could feel goosebumps rise all over your body as you felt his steady breathing on your neck, looking over your shoulder with ease. ‘’Place your feet shoulder width apart and the ball should be inside the line of the big toe of your front foot.’’ He pushed your right heel out with his own foot. ‘’And you gotta bend your upper body from the knees and the knees slightly.’’

So many instructions.

You leaned forward a little while keeping your feet in the right place. ‘’Like that?’’ you asked, not sure if you were positioned correctly.

‘’Bend a bit more.’’ Rafe stepped back with a mischievous smirk, his warmth leaving your back. ‘’More. More.’’ You had a feeling that the position was wrong, but did as told. ‘’Perfect.’’ He swiped his tongue over his lips and hummed, admiring the perfect view of your ass.

‘’And now I swing?’’

‘’Not yet,’’ he said. ‘’I’m enjoying the view.’’

You straightened up immediately, catching what he was doing. ‘’Rafe!’’ you hissed with a glare over your shoulder.

He was laughing smugly. ‘’Can you blame me?’’

‘’Can you guide me again? I lost the position because of you.’’

This time, Rafe won’t make a fool of you. This time, he’ll be the one who gets played.

You took a deep breath as he moved to stand right behind you and resumed the same position he had you in previously. A soft breeze blew and you got a whiff of his expensive cologne. It reminded you of those mornings you had woken up in his bed at Tannyhill, wrapped in his sheets and covered in his scent.

Shaking that thought from your head. Focus.

‘’You’re picking up fast,’’ Rafe encouraged behind you.

‘’Do I?’’ you asked, purposely wiggling your hips against his pelvis.

You heard Rafe inhale sharply in response, his grip on your hands tightening. ‘’If you kept doing stuff like that, I might just have to take you right on the golf field.’’

Please do, you almost let slip.

At the next tee, you ran into Mr. Barclay and one of your co-worker. He was one of the newbies and seemed to be struggling with the golf bag.

‘’Mr. Barclay, hi,’’ you greeted politely. ‘’How’s the course today? We’ve made new additions this year.’’

The older man greeted you back with a smile, then began ranting about how his caddie wasn’t as good as you at the job. ‘’I asked for you at the caddie shack, but I was informed my favorite caddie-girl was already booked.’’

Rafe stepped in, faking an apologetic smile. ‘’That would be because of me. My apology.’’

Mr. Barclay stared you down like you were a piece of meat and then shifted his eyes to Rafe, giving him a ‘lucky you’ kind of look before leaving with his caddie.

‘’Are your other clients all old perverts like him?’’

Most. ‘’He gives me good tips,’’ you said in defense.

Rafe pulled out his wallet, then stared you right in the eyes as he stuffed a crumpled hundred dollar bill inside your bra. ‘’I do too.’’ 

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx  @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker  @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage​  @maybankslover

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 10

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💜

"Drive," Mr. Hansen tosses the keys as he struts across the lot. 

You barely catch them, you're scramble swinging your bag down to your wrist precariously. You right yourself as you get your finger through the keyring and you hit the button to unlock the doors. The tail lights flash to signal which car is his. 

You don't argue with his demand, even if you don't think you should be driving his car. You get in and he flops into the other side, leaning back with his phone in hand like a teenager. You sit dumbly in front of the steering wheel and slowly pull the seat belt across your torso. Where the heck is the ignition?

"New model, critter," Hansen jabs his finger into the button by the wheel. "Drop the keys in the cup holder." 

You obey and take in your bearings. You adjust the mirrors and the seat. 

"Hey, don't fuck things up too much," he warns. 

"Yes, sir," you put your hands on the wheel then reach to shift into reverse. The screen in the dash lights up with the rear view cam. 

You're not used to the updated model. You back up cautiously and turn the nose of the car straight. You lean on the gas little by little as you pass between the rows of cars. 

When you reach the street, you're no more comfortable controlling the luxury sedan but as always, there is no arguing. You idle at the light. Aimless. 

"Colin's," Hansen insists, "they got better variety." 

"Right," you put the blinker on and turn, undoubtedly irking the driver behind you. 

As he continues to key in his phone, you focus on the road. You're grateful for the task. That way you don't have to think of or speak to him. Still, he's there and inescapable.  

As you pull up to the store, he clucks. You shut off the engine and stare at the images of golf pros in their hats and gloves, a certain demographic with clubs in their hands on a green background. It’s the last place you would ever choose to go. With Mr. Hansen, there is rarely a choice. 

He gets out first. Your reluctance must be clear as he whistles over his shoulder as you shut the driver’s door. You scurry to catch up to him. He nearly drops the door on you. 

You follow him inside. A man in a polo greets him as you hover behind. It’s clear you’re not there to shop for you. Hansen chats with the guy about wood or something, then asks about the gloves. You leave a few feet between you as you take his lead. 

He silently debates as he takes a pair of white and a pair of bright red gloves. He tilts his head back and forth. “Whatcha think, critter? Classy or trashy?” 

You watch him wiggle first the white then the red. You can’t help but feel the selection in colour is deliberate. Red like your dress. 

“The white are nice, sir. But won’t they get dirty?” You suggest. 

He squints and rolls his eyes. He throws both pairs at you and grabs black, “you’re right. Who wants to get down and dirty, huh?” 

You catch the gloves and hang them back up. He strolls along the wall of clubs and takes one out to feel the weight. You stand back. He tuts and puts it back. 

“Hm,” he looks at you, no past you. 

You nearly cower as he marches towards you. As he passes, you turn to follow his attention. You blanch at the shelf of clothing. It isn’t meant for him. He picks up a black skirt and flutters the pleats. 

“You got long legs, critter, one wrong move...” he smirks over at you. 

“Sir,” you utter flatly. 

“You golf? Not mini putt, but real golf?” He asks. 

You hesitate. You don’t know if it’s the first time he’s genuinely asked about you. Not rhetorical or sarcastic or demeaning. But a question with an answer. 

“No, Mr. Hansen.” 

He sucks his teeth then folds the skirt. He slaps it against the gloves. “Never too late.” He pushes both towards you, “we’ll need a cute top to go with that. Oh, and shoes...” 

“Shoes? Sir?” 

“Well, that fucker Brenner canceled. I need some competition,” he shoulders by you. “I’ll take a handicap so you have a fighting chance.” 

“But sir--” 

“But sir what? You got better things to do? No, you work for me and this is my time and I will use you—it, however I choose,” he chortles as he stops at the shelf of shirts. He takes out a halter with a collar. You frown and sidle along with him. “You a D? C? Double? I’m no good at guessing. Tits are tits.” 

You nearly choke. You cough out your shirt size. He really can’t think the scale is based on chest alone. Or maybe he does. 

“What about the contracts for Halo--” 

“Who gives a fuck, critter. Make a goddamn call. You know Prissy down in legal. She wants to suck me bad. Tell her I need a favour and she’ll get it all done up with a bow,” he adds the shirt to your armload. 

You stare at him. Why is he doing this? You know he’s not trying to take you out for a day of fun and he surely doesn’t want to spend time with you. He’s torturing you. This is all on purpose. 

“You know,” he pauses and looks you in the face, “usually when I take a girl on a shopping spree, she doesn’t look so miserable.” 

You try to ease the tension from your face but it’s tough. You’re still agitated from the morning. And the night before. And the years you’ve been trudging through humiliation at his beck and call. 

“Thank you, sir. It’s very generous.” 

His eyes flick up and down. He harrumphs but doesn’t speak his thoughts. You’re not sure that’s good. He holds grudges. You’ve seen how that goes. 

[onepointsixkm]

Part II: Burnout

Summary: The Monaco Grand Prix went up in smoke as the end of the world began. You and a group of your friends managed to escape, but not without loss, as the dead began to walk.

featuring: SV5, CL16, OP81, & LS2. (mentions of LN4 + some surprise appearances)

warnings: zombie apocalypse! features character death, gore, and other genre conventions/staples. please do not engage if you are uncomfortable with any of the potential warnings!

notes: i am 100% serious when i say that if you did not take the warning on the first chapter seriously, this is the time to do so. please protect your mental before reading.

word count: 5,295

“Logan, you don’t have to come if you aren’t feeling up to it.”

The American boy shook his head fiercely, nervously shifting the bag on his shoulder. “I have to,” he replied, although his voice wavered with uncertainty. “We can’t just wait for help. Every second we wait… someone else could be…” You watched as a faraway look took over his face, the haunted, guilt-ridden frown coming back.

Oscar grasped his shoulder. “C’mon, mate,” he murmured. “Keep it together.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Logan nodded, offering a weak, shaky smile to each of you. You and Oscar exchanged looks, but didn’t protest Logan’s words. You knew you couldn’t. Logan would push through, no matter how terrified he really was.

“Then no time to waste. Let’s get going.” Seb had taken a crowbar from the maintenance closet, and was holding it in his gloved hands. “Let’s get in, and stick together. And whatever you do, don’t get bit.”

Charles shifted uncomfortably as Sebastian opened the door, Logan and Oscar slipping into the hallway as he did. Both of them were holding golf clubs, Oscar’s raised defensively while Logan’s was a bit lower, more hesitant. “Remind me why we aren’t taking the car?” Charles asked, rolling the baseball bat he’d taken in his hands.

“Cars are loud,” was Seb’s swift and easy answer, as if those three words explained everything.

For a moment, Charles looked like he wanted to protest, but he stopped himself and shook his head, muttering something in French. The security and safety a car would provide as you traveled was something you could understand him wanting, given what you’d seen happen as you left the circuit. But at the same time, you also knew why Seb had made the decisions he’d made. A car was loud, and anything loud was a near guarantee that the undead would find you before you ever even made your way into the paddock at the circuit. It was the potential to sentence one of your group — the number of you already dwindling — to death. And after everything that had happened in the hours prior, after realizing everyone who was either missing or dead, you didn’t want to risk that. You couldn’t risk it.

“We should go on foot,” you quietly agreed with Seb, glancing over at your friend with a frown. Charles looked at you, confused. “It’s less than twenty minutes, Charles. And the risk from the noise… it’s not worth it.” You held onto another of Lando’s golf clubs, kicking the head of the club and letting it bounce against your toes.

For a moment, Charles hesitated. But he nodded, however reluctant he actually was. “Okay. On foot it is.” He glanced at you.

You offered him the best smile you could, given the situation, and reached out to squeeze his arm gently. He did the same for you, although you could still see the hesitance in his smile. You slowly moved past Seb, who was still holding the door open, and into the hallway. Charles followed behind you, with Seb bringing up the rear.

The building was strangely quiet as you made your way back to the ground floor, Oscar and Seb accompanying Logan down in the elevator while you and Charles descended the stairs. Even your normally talkative friend was dead silent, a pensive frown on his face and his brow furrowed as he lost himself in his thoughts.

You knew what everyone else was thinking in their silence. Those thoughts were running through your head, too.

What if there’s no one left?

It wasn’t until you were halfway through the long trek (that only felt long because of the silence) to the circuit that you heard the sound of someone else’s voice as Logan spoke up. He’d fallen behind, lost in his thoughts, and finally, he said, “Hey.” The sudden sound made you jump at first. You all looked at him, Seb, who stood at the front of your group, even peering at him out of the corner of his eyes. “What if… what if we’re the only ones who made it. And we see… people we know. As-as one of those things.”

You looked towards Seb, who was suddenly staring ahead of him like the rising smoke in the distance was the most interesting thing imaginable. Your gaze turned toward Charles, whose frown had only deepened as he stared at the bat in his hands.

“All I know is that if it was me,” Oscar started, slowly interrupting the silence as you all searched for an answer to Logan’s question, “I’d want you to put me out of my misery.”

“Like… you’d want us to, uh… re-kill you, I guess?” You almost wanted to laugh at Logan’s struggle for words, but the context surrounding them wasn’t funny. You knew that you could run into anyone who wasn’t accounted for. How could there possibly be humor in that?

Oscar pursed his lips, shrugging nonchalantly, despite the clear tension in his shoulders. “Well, yeah. Being a zombie means that I could hurt other people, even kill ‘em if I’m not dealt with. And I wouldn’t want my body walking around like that, without me in it. It’d be a kindness, really. To put me down, I mean.” He glanced over at you, offering you a small smile, like he knew where your mind was hurtling towards.

Lando.

“Then that’s what we do,” you said softly as you weakly returned Oscar’s smile. “I’m sure everyone else would feel the same.”

With a short nod, Oscar reached over to Logan and tried to pat his shoulder reassuringly. Instead, Logan grabbed Oscar’s hand and squeezed it, needing some sort of comfort — any sort of comfort — that was offered. Although Oscar looked surprised for a moment, he allowed Logan to hold onto him like a lifeline. Your eyes met his again, and you smiled, this one a little bit stronger.

If nothing else, you needed to be strong for the people who were still alive.

Silence fell between the group again. Logan continued to cling to Oscar’s hand, his brow furrowing further and further. His grip on his golf club had tightened. Oscar had subtly pushed himself in a defensive position, ready to fight anything that came at the distracted Logan. You almost smiled. Even now, they were looking out for each other. At your side, Charles was playing with the bat, kicking it with his toes with each step he took. He was constantly chancing looks out in one specific direction. His home, his mom’s home.

You reached over and grabbed his wrist. When you met his eyes, you could see the flicker of hope dimming from only hours prior. You managed a small smile, but he could barely return it. The little twitch of his lips was all you would get from him. Your hand fell back to your side, words failing you as you searched for a way to comfort him.

Seb finally halted as you reached the parking lot gate, all of you coming to a stop behind him. “We’re here,” he muttered.

There was still smoke rising from the circuit. In fact, you could’ve sworn that there was more than you remembered. More fire, more things going south. More chances that your friends were gone. More chaos and violence, and you were sure that there should’ve been more panic and screams echoing through the city.

But somehow, it was quiet.

“Alright. Stay as silent as possible. No noise. Let’s get in, go looking, and get out with whoever we find. No taking stupid risks, got it?” Seb ground out, looking more serious than you thought you’d ever seen him.

Everyone, even Charles, who was normally someone who couldn’t stay silent, even in serious situations, was deadly silent as your group crept through the remains of what had been the Monaco Circuit. There were small fires all around the circuit and there was debris scattered along the streets. The corpses of those who hadn’t reanimated, many of which were half eaten, were strewn about the asphalt. Blood had begun to soak into the road.

You winced as you had to creep past a group of zombies that were devouring some poor person’s remains, and you bit back a whimper as your traitorous mind imagined one of your friends in their place.

Most of the garages were empty of people — undead or otherwise — and you weren’t sure if it was a mercy or not. All that was left were the Formula 1 cars, and some bodies that had been killed in the chaos. Some of them were people you recognized. There were so many mechanics, team staff, and even a few of the reserve drivers who had been attending that weekend, and your heart sank a little bit further with every body you recognized.

Logan almost vomited when you found what was left of Fredrik Vesti’s body in the Mercedes garage. Through his tears, Oscar insisted on covering his friend, to give him some sort of dignity in death. You hadn’t been close with him, but a deep sorrow still settled in your bones as you silently watched Logan and Oscar mourn. Fred was still someone who you knew by name, and it was a cruel reminder that you were here to try to find your friends, but that not all of them had made it.

Perhaps it was a small mercy that Alex and Lily were gone by the time you reached the place that you’d lost them. There was gore and viscera, but no bodies. You didn’t want to think about whose guts were splayed on the ground as you stepped over them.

A smoking Haas car had planted itself in the pit wall, bloody handprints smeared across its glossy finish, but thankfully, there was no one in the driver’s seat. You bit your lip and forced yourself to tear your gaze from the wreckage. The front of the car had been so damaged that you couldn’t even tell if it was Nico’s or Kevin’s car.

Charles reached down to take your hand, and you finally noticed that you were shaking. He gazed at you worriedly, the unspoken question clear in his eyes. You swallowed your sobs and nodded at him, silently communicating that you were okay.

(You weren’t okay at all, but you had to tell yourself that you were to make it true.)

Finally, you reached the last garage you hadn’t checked. Williams. Behind you, you could hear Logan inhale sharply. You looked back at him, and he shook his head, his eyes beginning to look a little glassy.

The Williams garage was deadly silent as Seb lifted the doors. It was somehow clean of the blood and debris that had been in every other garage. A few of the lights were flickering, with a few completely out. Both Alex and Logan’s cars were right where you’d last seen them, and you took a deep, shuddering breath as Seb gestured for Logan to close the garage shutters behind you, Logan scrambling to do so.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as the garage shutters slammed against the floor. For a moment, you all hold your breath as you wait for any sign of life — or lack thereof — to show itself.

“Is someone there?” a British accent called from deep within the garage.

You and Charles exchanged looks of relief as you both recognized the voice. Both of you practically ran towards the voice. You turned the corner and squeezed into the rows of tyres and front wings, where you saw a figure nearly collapsed on the floor. George Russell’s familiar gaze peered at you from the tyres. You dropped your golf club as you rushed towards him, Charles hot on your heels. George sat up straight, and you could see his shoulders sag in relief from where he sat, leaning against a stack of tyres, a wrench tight in his grip.

He let his head fall back against the cloth-covered rubber. “Good to see some friendly faces, finally,” he quipped, his voice laced with a mixture of pain and relief.

“George, oh my God,” you breathed as you nearly collapsed next to him. His black team kit was covered in blood and his face was smeared with dirt and soot, but he still offered you a smile. You couldn’t help but grab him into a tight hug. “Holy shit, you’re alive.”

He let out a mirthless laugh as he winced in your arms. You could feel his arm reach up to pat your back as gently as he could. “Barely. And, quite honestly, only alive because of Hulkenberg.” He leaned back as you released him from your embrace.

Seb lowered his weapon, concern written on his face. “What d’you mean? What happened?” he asked, looking around in search of Nico.

“When I got separated from these guys,” George nodded at you, and you could feel guilt spear your chest, “I tried to go back for Alex and Lily. They… there was nothing left to go back to.” You covered your mouth as you held back a sob. “I had to run, but there was almost nowhere to go. Everything was… chaotic. People screaming and running everywhere, and everywhere I could go is filled with zombies. And then, Hulkenberg came out of nowhere like… like a fucking maniac, driving one of the Haas cars right through the crowd and then right into the wall. He got out of the car and-and his arm was bleeding. I think he was bit, but I never got a good enough look to say for certain. He just pushed me into the garage, handed me this wrench, and told me to stay here until help came. I… he never came back.”

Nico Hulkenberg was most likely dead. Bitten and turned or devoured to find others. You weren’t sure, and you didn’t know if you were ever going to find out.

“And your ankle?” Seb prodded, gesturing towards George’s leg. You followed Seb’s gesture, and gasped. George’s ankle was clearly injured, his foot pointing in an unnatural direction, and you could see it swelling.

George winced at the reminder. “Slipped and fell when Hulkenberg drove past me. Had to dive out of the way to not get hit. Couldn’t just pop it back into place, so it’s just been like this.” He reached down to pat his ankle, a pained hiss leaving his mouth.

“Do you know if anyone else is alive?”

Seb and George stared at each other in silence for a moment. Finally, George sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. I have no idea. After Alex went down, we all got separated. I have no clue what happened to anyone else.” His brow furrowed in frustration. “But by the looks of it, not everyone got out with you.” His gaze scanned each of your faces, looking for answers that you weren’t sure he would want to hear.

Despite that, you took a deep breath and supplied, “Lance was bit. He turned, and he bit Carlos when we tried to get out.” George nodded slowly, sorrow twisting his lips into a frown. “Daniel is dead. So is Fred Vesti. A lot of mechanics and engineers are gone. We haven’t found any of the other drivers.” You could see Logan shuffle anxiously behind you. “We lost Max in that chaos, and… and I let go of Lando. I don’t know if they’re alive.”

George continued to nod slowly, a faraway look in his eyes. “Okay,” he finally managed, his voice slow and quiet. “Thank you for telling me.”

“What, that’s it?” Charles asked, shock in his eyes.

“What else am I supposed to say?” George snapped. “You want me to be angry? Sad? I knew that not everyone made it. I made my peace with it after I found what was left of my best friend on the fucking ground, after I saw him and his girlfriend getting eaten by those things. There’s nothing else to say.”

Silence fell between all of you, the losses finally sinking in. Charles looked sheepishly at George, who had let his head fall to stare at his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry. About Alex,” Charles whispered.

George smiled sadly through pursed lips. “Yeah. Sorry about Carlos.” Charles murmured a soft thanks, unable to look at George.

Seb glanced around at the garage. “This place is fortified by those shutters, but there’s not enough food to last more than a day. But, for now, it’s a good place to rest. The sun will be setting soon, which means it’ll be too dangerous for us to head back to the apartment. We’ll stay safe here until morning, and then, we get a car, get back to the apartment, and figure out next steps,” he declared.

“Okay,” you agreed readily, shrugging off your bag and pulling out the medical supplies you’d packed. “George, let me take a look at your ankle.”

George readily shifted, pulling his pant leg up. The pain became more and more visible as he moved. You grimaced at the swelling. It was angry and red, like he’d stressed it too much. You could see Oscar follow Logan as Logan staggered away, towards where his car was. Charles handed George his water bottle, and George gratefully took it, taking a long few sips before handing it back.

“You sprained it pretty bad.” George snorted a laugh — I fucking know, you could hear his unspoken words. “Going anywhere on this is going to be a bitch. Seb, tomorrow, we’re going to have to be so careful. We can’t get crept up on, not with George’s ankle like this.”

Seb nodded in agreement. He leaned down to clasp George’s shoulder. “Rest up,” he advised all of you. “In the morning, we’ll have to go. So, for now, get as much rest as you can.”

As soon as Seb said that, you all began trying to settle down for the night. What little food you had, you rationed and split amongst you, George practically wolfing down the fruit cup you’d offered him as you bandaged his ankle. Charles offered him the blanket he’d brought, to elevate his leg, and Oscar managed to find some extra clothes to cover all of you. You and Charles took up spots near George, while Logan and Oscar huddled together. Seb laid in front of all of you, as if he was protecting you from anything that could potentially get in.

But sleep didn’t come easily to you.

You couldn’t see outside the garage, but you knew that the dead were probably still roaming about the circuit, searching for anyone that was still alive to turn or devour. You stared at the garage shutter, waiting for something — anything — to happen. Your body was still on high alert from the events of the day, and even if you knew the Williams garage was safe, you couldn’t stop your mind from racing.

“Can’t sleep?” you heard a soft whisper. You looked over to George, who was staring at you with a knowing gaze from where he laid. “Me neither,” he admitted, pushing himself to sit up and scoot closer to you.

You shook your head, pulling your knees to your chest. “I just keep thinking about everyone else. Max, Lewis, Pierre… Ollie — God, Ollie and Kimi — and all of the others.” You paused. “Lando especially.”

George murmured your name, but you couldn’t look at him. “You said you let go of Lando. What happened?” he prodded, so gently that you nearly started crying.

Any words you could’ve said turned to ash on your tongue. You just meekly shook your head again. Silence fell between you and George, the echoes of the small, ambient sounds of the garage ringing loudly through your head.

“I… I lost him. In all the chaos, I just… I let go of him. And then, he was gone.”

George reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “If he’s only lost, then that’s not so different than before. Typical of Lando, always wandering off somewhere. We just have to find him.” He smiled gently, and you thanked all the stars in the sky for George Russell and how he knew exactly what to say whenever you needed him.

You smiled back, squeezing his hand in return.

When morning came and Seb woke you all up, you and George were still holding onto each other. Before you stood to pack your things back up, he squeezed your hand once more.

“We’ll find him,” he said confidently. Despite everything that was telling you otherwise, you believed him.

Those were the only words you exchanged as you crept through the circuit, back the way you came. For the most part, it was quiet. There were practically no zombies wandering around, and the few that you did see, you were able to easily put down alongside your friends. But as you reached the parking lot, you suddenly found yourselves surrounded.

You weren’t even sure where they came from, just that they hadn’t been in front of you, and then they were. As quickly as if you’d blinked, a bunch of shambling corpses had got the jump on you. You didn’t even know where they’d come from, just that they were all around you.

Once the first zombie reached for you, you’d let out a yelp as you swung your club and knocked it to the ground. It hadn’t quite been dead, instead trying again to grab you with a loud moan, and you slammed your club into its head again. You were sure you’d killed it this time if the dent in its skull and the way it went limp was anything to judge by.

But as you looked around, you saw Oscar and Seb beating back the zombies that were fast approaching, Charles and Logan taking up defensive positions around George, who they were continuing to support as best they could. George was leaning on Logan and had his wrench raised above him, ready to strike whatever came close.

You weren’t sure how long you were stuck there, but a few became a dozen, and then a dozen became dozens.

There was no end to it.

“Fuck!” you swore, swinging your club at the undead in front of you. You didn’t even have time to wince at the sickening crack in the air. “It’s like the entire population of Monaco was here for this fucking race!”

“It was a fully sold out race,” Charles reasoned, bat making contact with the skull of another approaching zombie, “There were probably tens of thousands,” another swing, “of people here.”

On either side of you and Charles were Oscar and Seb, who were viciously trying to defend an injured George, his arm draped over Logan’s shoulders for support. Oscar spat, sweat dripping down his forehead and causing his hair to stick to his skin. “We’re fucked then,” he swore. He moved the grip on the handle of his club, readjusting it.

From behind you, you heard George swear under his breath. “Just leave me,” he finally said. “My ankle… it’s going to slow you down. You need to go.”

Logan shifted George’s weight around, swinging his golf club and pushing back a zombie that was getting too close. “Mate, shut up.” He glared at George. “I’m not leaving you.” He pushed another one back, right into Sebastian’s crowbar.

“We’re all getting out of here,” Seb announced, leaving absolutely no room for argument. “Just… buy me some time. I’ll think of a plan.”

“Better think fast, Seb,” Oscar grunted as he staggered backwards. He swung his golf club again. The head was practically dyed crimson with the amount of blood on it. “The more time you think, the more of these things come at us.”

Seb’s eyes scanned the parking lot, and he grimaced at the lack of options. “Herd’s thinnest on the east. But the working only car I see is one of your stupid sports cars. Can’t fit all of us.”

“We might not have choices. Gotta do something, or we’re all dead.” George bit his lip. “Better a few of us get away than none of us.”

You huffed as another corpse landed at your feet. “It’s all of us or none of us,” you shot back.

“I see one. A van, probably media. It’s a long shot, but it looks big enough to fit all of us.” Seb squinted. “Probably a hundred meters. We get one shot at this, so here’s what we do: we form a circle, protect George. Slow, but sure, and we all get there.”

You nodded, frantically moving to form a circle. Logan and George stood in the center, Logan supporting George as he limped along. It was a slow, painful move through the parking lot, but with each of you watching each other carefully, you were able to make it that hundred meters to the car Seb had seen.

It felt like the herd was finally beginning to thin as Seb forced the door open with his crowbar, clamoring in the driver’s side door. “Buy me time, I can get this going,” he demanded, lowering himself to fiddle with the wires.

Your arms were beginning to tire, and by the looks of it, so were the others’. George, especially, was beginning to falter, his ankle clearly paining him. He slid down the side of the van, his wrench almost falling from his grasp as he reached for his ankle. Logan scrambled to stop him from hitting the ground too hard, kneeling by his side.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you heard the soft purr of the engine as Seb convinced it to roar to life. And not a moment too soon. The horde of the dead had finally thinned just enough for it to no longer be overwhelming.

Seb called, “Get in!” and you quickly turned to help George into the car, Logan helping to lift him to his feet as you opened the back of the van. But as you did, you caught sight of Oscar, who had stopped where he stood, his eyes fixed on something in the distance.

“Oh, Jesus.” Oscar staggered backwards, his golf club faltering in his grip. His eyes were trained on a specific figure in the near distance, right in the center of the oncoming group of undead. “Oh, Christ.”

You followed his gaze, only for your heart to fall right into your stomach.

“Carlos,” you breathed, stepping forward as if in a trance. His gaze was unmoving, unflinching, but it wasn’t him in there. Despite knowing it was him, there was nothing familiar about the corpse shambling towards you, nothing that you recognized of the man that had pushed you away before he’d been bitten. The angry reminder of that moment was still oozing blood, the wound still open on his shoulders.

All you could think about was the look on his face as he pushed you away and the scream in your throat as Lance’s teeth sunk into his flesh. You choked back a sob as you studied your undead friend.

His eyes were glassy, and his mouth opened and closed with only a low, gurgling growl leaving his lips. Gone were the smiles and the soft eyes. All that was left was a husk of Carlos Sainz.

Seb, having slid out of the car once he realized what was happening, reached over to grab you by the hand and pull you behind him. He raised his crowbar as Carlos — at least, what remained of Carlos — let out a low growl as he reached towards you. “Don’t look,” Seb murmured.

You could feel the golf club leaving your hand as it fell to the ground, you falling with it. Your knees hit the pavement, Logan reaching out to steady you. You clung to the arm he wrapped around you, tears that you hadn’t even felt coming already streaming down your face. A whimper left your throat.

A hand reached out and covered your eyes, and you could hear Logan murmur to you, “Don’t look,” echoing Seb’s words. You turned, burying yourself in Logan’s shoulder. Behind him, George reached out, taking your hand in his, and you squeezed back, grateful for the comfort.

Briefly, you turned, seeing Seb stepping forward to meet the approaching body of Carlos. He tightened his grip around his crowbar, and you winced at the blood that dripped down the metal. You could hear him muttering something in German, but you weren’t quite sure what he was saying. You could feel yourself biting your lip, tears still streaming down your face, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fully look away from what you knew was about to happen. It felt like you owed it to Carlos, for saving your life.

Before Seb could meet Carlos, Charles reached out and stopped Seb, halting the crowbar mid-movement. “It should be me,” Charles murmured, his eyes trained sadly on his former teammate.

Seb couldn’t reply. He only lowered his weapon, stepping back to allow Charles to meet Carlos instead. You could see the tension in Charles’s shoulders, could practically see his eyes filling with tears, but he didn’t back down. He only raised his baseball bat as Carlos approached, and softly said, “Sorry it had to end this way.”

With a low growl, Carlos lunged for Charles, who responded immediately, bringing the baseball bat over his head and then back down onto Carlos’s. You winced at the viscous crack that rang through the air, then again as Carlos’s body hit the ground. Charles staggered backwards, dropping the bat, as Carlos went limp against the asphalt, unmoving.

“Fuck,” you heard him manage, his breathing ragged.

You quickly pushed yourself towards Charles, practically collapsing into him and wrapping your arms around him as you sobbed. He rested a bloodied, shaking hand on your arm, heaving as tears streamed silently down his face, his eyes still wide and trained on Carlos’s body. Viscous blood poured from his head wound and onto the pavement, slowly seeping towards you.

“You did the right thing, Charles,” you murmured into his shoulder, tightening your grip on his shirt. He nodded quickly, like he desperately wanted to believe you. “I’m sorry it had to be you. I’m sorry I couldn’t do it.”

He took a shuddering breath before he shook his head. “No. It had to be me,” he choked out, offering you a tentative, sorrowful smile. He squeezed your wrist before pushing himself up and pulling you with him. He picked his bat back up, then turned around, back to the car. His smile fell right off his face, disappearing along with all the color in his skin. “And now, we have to fucking move.”

You followed his gaze, and could suddenly understand why Charles had paled so suddenly.

There had to be hundreds of undead shambling towards you from the opposite side of the parking lot. From your way out.

“Time to go,” you breathed. Logan and Oscar quickly helped George into the car. Seb climbed back into the driver’s seat and Charles sprinted to get in the passenger side. As soon as Logan was in the car, you followed, slamming the door shut behind you.

Once you were all in the van, Seb let his foot drop on the pedal like a brick, the wheels of the minivan screeching as it peeled towards the herd. You flinched at the sounds of hands thumping against the sides of the van and groans of the undead.

But as they grew distant, Seb speeding through the streets of Monaco, you finally relaxed. All of you were safe for now.

previous chapter | next chapter

[oneforthemunny]

I have an idea!! trick or treating w janitor!eddie & the kids maybe or even rockstar!eddie. honestly any and all the dads going trick or treating with their kids would be fun to see :))

it's tricky |dad!rockstar!eddie munson x mom!nepo baby! reader|

you can read janitor!eddie's version here and the rest of my spooky story series here!

October 31st, 1999- Hawkins, Indiana

"You got it, Kensie." You coo, grinning at her sweetly, pushing the twin's double stroller in a soothing stride over the dried, fallen leaves that littered the sidewalks.

The four year old looked back, both hands clutching the plastic orange bucket, brown eyes rounded in pure fear, horror- like she hadn't done this at least fifteen times tonight.

"Go up, Kens. Go up with Sephy." Eddie nodded, standing by the path, hands balled in his leather jacket. It was definitely different from Calabasas, that was for sure. Colder, not that Eddie minded- it felt more like Halloween.

The streets filled with kids screeching and darting around in store bought or handmade costumes, not decked in designer looking runway ready being paraded around by their parents on golf carts. It was for the kids, not a social event. Plastic bowls filled with real candy, not whatever the fuck fruit leather is. That had finalized his decision to spend Halloween in Hawkins this year- give the girls a real Halloween.

Persephone gave her sister a bored look, eyes rolling when they met Eddie's with an unamused expression- she looked just like you. "Daddy, she's not going. She's scared." Persephone huffed, five years old and full of sass.

Eddie bit back a smirk. "Go ahead." He nodded towards her. "Kens, if you're not gonna go up, then come stand back here with me."

"No." Kensington shook her head. "You come with me."

Eddie blinked. Every atom in his body screamed "no". He was back in his hometown, with all the fuckers who never left and used to make his life a living hell. Yeah, he'd done better than anyone ever expected, that was an understatement, but he was in their arena here. On their turf.

"Kens, just go with your sister." Eddie countered, crouching to her level. "I'm right here."

"But I want you to come with me." Kensie pouted, arms crossed over her Belle costume, curls slipping out of the bun. "I don't wanna go alone."

The little shake in her voice, eyes rounding nearly pitifully, Eddie knew he was done for, hand reaching to hers, walking up the cobbled steps. You smirked, adjusting the blankets over the twins. He was such a push over now.

Eddie grimaced, heart pounding with dread when Kensington jammed a gloved finger into the doorbell. The door opened, an older man with a bright, festive bowl opening the door.

"Oh, hello there! Look at you." He grinned down at Kensie, her body curling into Eddie's leg, shy at the attention and the stranger.

"What do you say, huh?" Eddie muttered, hand rubbing down her back sweetly.

"Trick-or-Treat." Kensie squeaked, holding her bucket out slightly.

"There you go." The man laughed, dropping a colorful wrapper into her plastic pumpkin. "Have a good- Munson?"

Eddie's eyes snapped, meeting the man's eyes, face falling slightly. "No shit." Eddie muttered, eyes snapping to Kensie carefully. "Principal Higgins?"

"So it is you?" Higgins hummed, lips pressed together, bowl hugged to his hip.

Eddie could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. Suddenly, he was seventeen again, being told he wasn't graduating on time. "Yeah, yeah, it is."

"Thought you were in Hollywood?" Higgins' eyes narrowed.

"We live in Calabasas." Persephone chirped, head poking around Eddie's leg. "Not Hollywood."

Eddie cringed slightly, shoulders tense. Higgins didn't scoff, didn't snap at her, no back handed comment- no. He smiled. Laughed.

"I'm guessing these two are yours?" He grinned at Eddie.

"Yeah, and the other two in the stroller- twins." Eddie pointed behind him. "They're with my wife right now."

"Right. The film producer's daughter?" Higgins asked. Eddie nodded, chest boasting with pride.

"Well, gotta admit, I never thought the kid that flipped me off when he finally graduated would do that much in life," Higgins looked at Eddie, eyes crinkling slightly in a smile. "But looks like you did really good for yourself, Edward. Congratulations."

"Thank you. I have." Eddie nodded, hand smoothing down Kensie's curls. "Good to see you, Higgins."

"You too, Edward. Happy Halloween." Higgins waved, shutting the door behind him.

"What candy did you get?" You asked, eyes bright when you looked at Persephone.

"I got Skittles." Persephone grinned, tilting her basket so you could see.

"Oh, you know those are my favorite." You grinned, pushing the stroller down the path with one hand, your free one grabbing Persephone's gloved hand to hold. "Will you share with me?"

"I guess." Persephone shrugged. "Can I go?" She asked, looking at Kensie and Eddie trailing behind the two of you.

"Sure, go ahead. Make sure you say 'thank you.'" You nodded. Her bright pink costume stood out even in the night time. She had insisted on being the pink Power Ranger, so you had a custom costume made. Not as fancy as the other mothers in Calabasas did, but nicer- warmer too. Fleece lined and thick so she didn't have to wear a jacket. It kills the look.

"Kensie, are you going?" You asked, looking at the small girl who had made her way into Eddie's arms.

"No." Kensie shook her head, face rubbing into Eddie's neck sleepily. "Can I sit in the stroller, Mama?"

"The stroller?" You asked, tone light and playful, hoping to keep her crankiness away. "There's no room in there for you, silly girl."

"But I want to." Kensie whined, lip jutting dramatically.

"Hey, stop that." Eddie warned. "I'm holding you. You don't need to go in the stroller."

Kensie's face twisted, nose scrunching furiously. "I want Mama to hold me." She reached towards you.

"Ok," You hummed, taking her in your arms, ignoring Eddie's protests. "I think I need to take the twins back anyways before they wake up, so we'll go back to Grandpa Wayne's, and Daddy will stay with Sephy."

"You know how to get back?" Eddie asked.

"Do I know how to walk in a straight line back to the house?" You lifted a brow. "Yeah, I think I've got it." Your tone clipped, rolling your eyes.

Eddie's lips twisted, rolling his own eyes. "Alright, Princess. We won't be too long." He muttered, pressing a kiss to your cold cheek.

"C'mon, Kensie. Let's go show Grandpa all your candy you got." You hum, one hand cradling her, the other pushing the stroller.

You made it look too easy, Eddie thought, eyes shining in pure wonder, total adoration at you. His bratty Beverly Hills girl turned into a mom- a good mom.

"Daddy, look!" Persephone giggled, waving the bright orange wrapper in Eddie's face. "I got a pumpkin one." She grinned proudly, the Reese's held between her gloved hands.

"Ooh, this is the good house, huh? We gotta remember that for next year. Maybe bring a couple costumes so you can keep going back, you think that would work?" Eddie grinned at the laugh Persephone gave.

"No," Persephone giggled, taking Eddie's hand while they walked to the next house. "They would 'member."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Eddie smiled, squeezing her hand lightly. "I think Grandpa has some back at the house anyways. I bet if you ask real nice he'll give you one."

"He already gave me one last night." Persephone said smugly. "Before bed, but he said not to tell you or-or you'd eat them all."

Eddie feigned shock, like he didn't see the whole "sneaky" interaction. Wayne pulling open the Snoopy cookie jar filled with candy, sneaking her one with a wink, finger pressed over his lips.

"He did?" Eddie gasped, Persephone giggling and nodding. "And you didn't share with me?"

"No," Persephone shook her head at him dramatically. "Grandpa gave it to me. You-You woulda ate it all!" She pointed at him.

Eddie's heart swelled with warmth, dimpled creased smile on his face. "Yeah, you're probably right, kid." He shrugged. "Will you at least tell me where he hid them?"

"No." Persephone shook her head. "But I'll let you have one of mine... and the dots."

"The dots?" Eddie's nose scrunched dramatically. "You're giving me the bad candy?"

"Yeah." Persephone chirped. "You can have what I don't want."

Eddie snorted. She was such your kid sometimes. "Thanks, kid. Make sure you say thank you, alright?" He patted her back lightly, leaning against the fence while she darted away in a flash of neon pink.

Bonus:

"This shit is so gross." Eddie gagged, chewing the impossibly stale but somehow chewy candy. "Who the fuck eats this?" He looked at the bright yellow box of Dots.

"You apparently." You giggled, feet in his lap, a pile of wrappers between the two of you.

The girls had gone to bed hours ago. Persephone was true to her word, leaving you and Eddie her rejects and one Reese's pumpkin. Luckily, Kensie had a few better options you sifted through.

Hocus Pocus played on a loop on the TV in front of you, volume lowered to a hush in the guest room of the Hawkins' home. "Stop eating it." You laughed, slapping the box lightly out of Eddie's hand when he ate another, retching dramatically again.

"It's so bad," Eddie shook his head, face puckered in disgust. "And I can't stop eating them."

"Here," You tossed him a Snickers. "Cleanse your pallet with this, you freak."

Eddie grinned, finger gliding under your foot playfully, making you squeal. "How's the baby doing?"

"They're down still, I think. I haven't heard them-"

"-No," Eddie shook his head, nodding towards you.

"Oh," You hummed, hand gliding down your tummy. You hadn't even started to show yet. "They're good. Liking the candy."

"I think it's a boy this time." Eddie grinned wide and bright, it made your heart skip. "You're less sick this time. You're always sick with girls."

"Yeah, maybe." You nod, unwrapping a Skittles bag. "Could be triplets this time, knowing our luck."

Eddie snorted, nearly choking on his candy. "Can you imagine?"

"A nightmare." You roll your eyes. "The twins almost killed me. I was huge."

"Yeah," Eddie's eyes darkened, grin spreading wider and wider. "You looked so fuckin' hot."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You're sick, Munson."

"I've been told that a few times before." Eddie smirked. "Never heard you complain though. You like it when I'm a little sick, don't you, baby." Eddie growled, tossing the candy to the side, hand wrapped around your ankle to pull you closer.

You squealed, drug through the pile of candy playfully, Eddie's wild curls silhouetted by the glow of the screen. He crawled over you, knees on either side of your hips, straddling you, hands by your head- a familiar position. A dangerous position.

Eddie's head ducked down, bangs tickling your forehead, lips pressed to yours while your legs wrapped around his waist, hands tangling in his hair.

[obxone]

Pogue Like Me (Part Two)

Edited-ish. ~4.9k words

Tag list: @gillybear17 @i-love-rafe @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @nomorespahgetti @lmg-stilinski24 @f4ll-for-you

Warning: drug use

Master Page

“Cameron!” You call as you walk across the path into the golf course. Rafe’s head jerks up to see you. “Got a second?”

“Sure.”

“Alone…” You fade out and look at Topper and Kelce. Neither moves for a moment, but both sport a knowing smirk. You roll your eyes. So, much for your secret staying safe with the kook prince.

He bobs his head after considering your request. He glances at his friends. Both look as equally surprised as you when he speaks. “Give me a second?”

“Sure, man,” Kelce responds first, his dark eyes dragging over you while he claps Rafe on the shoulder. 

“Enjoy your time with the pogue. We’ll be kicking your ass in the meantime.” Topper winks at you. An ickiness spreads through you from his actions, but you push it aside. Kelce laughs at Topper’s joke, but you notice Rafe does not even crack a smile. 

Instead, he stares at you, and you know he is trying to figure out what you want. It is extremely unlike you to seek out the kook prince for anything, much less a private conversation. You wait for them to get far enough away that they are out of earshot. 

“What’s up?” He leans on his golf club once you are in the safe zone. “I’m kind of busy here.”

“Oh, I can tell,” you quip back. “Must be really hard to get it in the right holes, huh?”

He chuckles, leaning toward you. “If you had stuck around the other night, you would know how well I can get it into the right hole.”

A hot blush spreads from your chest, up your neck, and fans over your face. He laughs, enjoying your reaction. The feel of his hand touching you and how it felt to have his finger stroking you flood your memories with warmth blooms in your lower belly. 

“What do you need, hmm?” He asks, a teasing tilt to his voice, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Need me to pop your cherry?”

You huff and smack his chest. He laughs before his gloved fingers hook into the pocket of your server apron, yanking you closer to him. 

“Because I will gladly do it.” 

“I bet, just another notch of your bedpost, right?”

He chuckles before shrugging. “I like to keep count.”

“Gross, Rafe!” You groan and shove at his chest. He laughs but keeps his fingers hooked into your pocket to keep you less than an inch or so away. “So much for our little secret, huh?” You ask, hands planted on his chest to keep at least some distance between you. 

His face screws up in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

You jerk your chin towards the hill Topper and Kelce have just disappeared over. “Those two know. It is no secret if it doesn’t stay between us.”

“I didn’t tell them shit, Babe.”

You flush hotter at the name before looking back at him. “Oh. They seemed like they knew.”

“Well, we aren’t exactly friends, pretty girl, so they know something is up. What do you need?”

“About the other night…”

“I said it was a secret, Pogue.”

Your eyes narrow as you watch him. “Can I finish?”

He rolls his shoulders in a shrug before waiting. 

“Thanks. So, what I was saying is it made me start thinking, and I need help with my situation.”

“With JJ?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, what do you need help with?”

You look down at your shoes to try and find the courage to ask this before you lift your chin to meet his gaze again. “To not feel anything… for him anymore.”

“You want more coke?”

“No.” You cringe with a shake of your head. “I want to be like you and your fellow kook buddies, I want to be able to turn off the emotional side.”

He laughs before patting your hip. “I’m sure you intended that as an insult.”

“Maybe,” you giggle before touching his arm. His arm muscles jump when your fingertips make contact. “But I am serious. I want to stop caring about him and about Kie and him. I want to move on.”

He smirks. “I figured it was Kiara.”

“Can you help me or not?”

“What would I get out of it?” He asks, his attention shifting to something over your head before he looks back down at you.

“Free drinks for a month.” 

He studies you before tipping his head. “Three months.”

“Deal.”

“It’s a deal.” He agrees before tugging you closer again. His head drops, and your breath hitches as his face nears yours. “We can start now, all right?” 

You nod once, hand gripping his bicep tightly, the other still pressed against his chest. The heat of his body against yours and the summer sun beaming down on you make your head spin. His cologne slowly intoxicates you once more. “Yeah.”

“Then relax, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his nose nearly brushing yours. A smile plays on his lips, and he watches you before he leans further into you. His lips drag along your cheek to your ear. If you could bet, you would bet your tips for the day that he could hear your heart beating wildly in your chest. His proximity sends your body on high alert, and your fingers tighten in the material of his polo around his waist. “We are being watched.”

“Rafe,” you whisper when he looks over your shoulder. “What are you doing this for exactly?”

A satisfied smirk stretches across his face before his lips press against your forehead briefly. “JJ is watching, and he is pissed.”

“Ah,” you muse, letting his shirt go. “I see.” You tip your face to look at him. “You also get that out of this deal.”

“I can work with that.”

You laugh before he steps back and jerks his chin. “Go to work, pretty girl. I’ll find you later.”

“Have fun golfing,” you return before taking a step back. “See you later, Cameron.”

You turn on your heel and make your way back towards the Island Club. JJ stands at the top of the stairs, waiting for you, with a screwed up look on his face.

“What is that?” He asks, his hands gripping a pitcher of water tightly. 

“What?” You ask, fishing your notepad out of your apron pocket. You know what he is talking about, but after the other night you can feel your feelings starting to harden. You were not sure if you could still be best friends with him anymore. And pain spreads out like spiders across your skin as you think about ending your friendship with him. Because at the end of the day, P4L only lasted for as long as the rules were followed.

“That!” He points, shoving his finger toward where you had previously stood with Rafe. You glance over your shoulder, but Rafe is nowhere to be found. “With Rafe Cameron.”

You stare at JJ, eyebrows raising before you shake your head at him. “Nothing, JJ. Let it go.”

You pass him to start your shift waiting on Island Club members. A few hours and you could dip out and go home for a nice hot shower. 

“He can’t be trusted, you know that!”

“JJ!” You snap, spinning to stare at him. “Let it go!”

He frowns at you before he shakes his head. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

“I’m working, and so are you,” you mutter, glancing at Alice as she points to your new table. The breeze coming in from the sea blows your hair around, and you sigh, wishing it could carry you away. A potential summer storm brewing meant busy tables all afternoon. “I have a table waiting.”

“Fine,” he mutters. “But I want to talk. Soon. You and me.”

“Okay,” you relent, but you do not meet his eyes before you turn and hurry over to your new table. You are not ready to talk to him yet. You are not ready to either pretend your feelings never existed or confess and shut yourself off from him. As of right now, these are the only two options you can see, and with the help of Rafe, you hope you can save your friendship. 

Alice hooks her arm through yours as you exit the Island Club. You exhale a sigh of relief that another day is done. “How much did you make in tips?” She asks you, straightening her purse as you follow the others out into the parking lot. 

“$550… I think.” You try to remember how much you counted out. 

“I only made $375.”

You shrug. “Old men like the young girls. It is so creepy, but it pays the bills. Maybe let Elle seat you with the grandpas...”

She laughs. “Not happening, I have to find myself a rich young husband.”

“Sugar daddies can be any age,” you tease her. 

She elbows you while laughing, and it fades out. You see it the same time she does. Rafe Cameron is staring at you, a cocky smirk on his face when all the other staff you walked out with notice him. He looks good, too damn good for your own well-being as he leans against his bike. His ballcap is on backward, and his polo stretches across his wide shoulders. His arms crossed over his chest to show off how much he works out. You clear your throat, slow down your steps, and try to ignore the feel of his eyes on you. 

“Don’t think that no one saw what happened on the golf course earlier,” Alice whispers to you. Her hand wraps around your forearm in barely contained excitement. “Or tell everyone else about it after.”

“What?” You turn to look at her with wide eyes. 

She grins. “It’s not every day that the kook prince makes out with a pogue.”

“We weren’t making out.”

She arches an eyebrow, and you stare back at her, not breaking under her scrutinizing gaze until she groans. “Fine. I should’ve known they were lying, and you’d never let him. Not when you only have eyes for a certain blond surfer.”

You blush, your gaze tracking across the other faces to see JJ. He is staring at you, not at all pleased with the sight of Rafe Cameron waiting for you. He did promise to find you later, and it seems later has arrived.

“So, I take it you don’t need a ride?” Alice murmurs as she retracts her arm from yours. “Incoming…”

“Ready to get out of here?” Rafe’s lips brush the shell of your ear as his hand hooks around your waist.

Alice winks before walking backward a few steps. You blush hot as you turn your face to look at him. He grins, glancing at the other staff members watching you both. 

“Smooth, Rafe. Real smooth.”

He chuckles before leading you toward his bike. 

“Can I ask a question?” You start as you put your backpack on properly, and he grabs his helmet. “Two, actually.”

“Sure.” He slides the helmet into place on your head, and you meet his gaze as he focuses on buckling the strap under your chin.

“How did you know when I was getting off? And what are we doing?”

“Alice told me after I asked-”

“That bitch!” You laugh, and he cannot help but to smile a little at your outburst. 

“And we are going to Tanneyhill.” He states as the buckle clips into place. His blue eyes drift up to yours. “Figured we could start today.”

“You don’t have plans?”

“Not today.” He shrugs, climbing on his bike. You do not miss the smirk he throws in JJ’s direction. He is the only one still watching, his expression anything but his usual happiness when you both get off work together. His ocean blue eyes are hard and full of fire as he glares at Rafe before they flicker to you. He tips his head, and you look away to Rafe, his knowing look making you uneasy.

You slide on behind Rafe when he is ready for you. His hand squeezes your thigh, and you wrap your arms around him, your palms pressing against his abs. He grins and glances once more at JJ with a wink before he peels out of the Island Club parking lot. 

You close your eyes, willing your heart to stay where it belongs as he drives towards Tanneyhill. Being forced to pay for this later is an understatement, and you know that as you feel JJ’s angry stare still burning into you. He would tell the others, and they would surely press you for answers. 

Before you know it and can worry over the situation, you are at Tanneyhill and climbing off the back of Rafe’s bike. He reaches to unbuckle the helmet before you remove it and glance at the grandeur that is his home. 

“So… I’m definitely going to be criticized now,” you mumble while still staring at the house. “Did it make you feel good at least?”

He laughs, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the front door. “Mhmm.”

“Mhmm?” You question, following him, your fingers gripping his hand tightly. “That is all you can say when you are going to cause my friends to burn me at the stake.” 

He leads you inside before shutting the door behind you. He heads straight for the staircase, and you tug his hand trying to slow him down. Nerves explode inside you that you are alone and in his home with him. The joke about him popping your cherry makes your body tighten with anxiety. “Do I at least get a tour?”

“Later,” he responds, glancing back at you. “Come on.”

You sigh before following him up the stairs. He pushes open a door to the right as soon as you hit the second landing. 

“Go on,” he mumbles, and you dip under his arm, and into his bedroom. He closes and locks the door behind him before turning to you. 

You spin to look at the locked handle before looking at him. “What are we doing?”

“Don’t want Sarah barging in here after that show with JJ.”

“Fair.” You shrug and turn to look at his desk. “He’ll tell them, won’t he?”

“He’s your friend. I have more blow if you want it.”

“Huh?” You ask, turning to look at him instead of the trinkets, photos, and other items littering his desk. “Oh, I think that was a one time thing for me, Rafe.”

“Why?”

You shrug. “Weed is more my thing, remember?”

He smirks before grabbing a box from a drawer in his dresser. “Works for me.”

“Why do you do it?”

Rafe tips his head as he watches you before shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He nears you, jerking his chin at his bed. “Go ahead.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he smirks. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he breathes, nearing you and tugging at the Island Club shirt you wear. “I’m taking payment for pissing off your boy crush.” You roll your eyes, but panic spreads through you.

“Why?”

“Remember what I did on your birthday?”

You nod.

“I want to do it again.” He grins. “You make it sweeter.”

You laugh it off, but the blush spreads over your face anyways. “Let me guess… stay still again?”

He grins at you before sitting on the end of his bed with the box. “Yes.”

“Does it work better this way?” You ask. You know the answer, it does not, but you want him to tell you why he needs your skin again when you are sure he had something else to use. You cannot help yourself, and your hands brush against his shoulders when he moves over you. His lips touch yours, and your breath hitches. His hands bunch your shirt up before he tugs it up and off you, and your hair fans out over his pillow. He would never admit it out loud, but he enjoys the way you look in his bed, topless and relaxed. You bite your lip, begging your body not to blush from his wandering eyes. He kisses you, and you kiss him back while allowing his body to slip between your legs and press against you. “Does it?” You breathe once he stops kissing you. 

“Nope.”

You scoff with an eye roll. “Then why am I shirtless in your bed, Rafe?”

“I told you; you make it sweeter, pretty girl.” His thumb strokes across your bottom lip. “Don’t move.”

You lay still and watch him form a line near your collarbone before he snorts it. His eyes flutter shut, and he groans when his high hits him. His lips find yours in a messy kiss after. His body presses to yours, and his hand moves up to cup your breast. He gropes and kneads the swell of your breast under his palm, groaning at the feel of you so open for him again. You moan into his mouth, brushing your core against his. He groans after you do. Reaching down his back, you bunch his shirt up to pull it off him, and he lets you before you toss it away. 

His upper body is magnificent, and he lets you admire him. Your fingertips trail over him, touching every curve and dip of muscle on display for you. 

“You know, if you want me naked, you just have to ask,” he teases you.

You close your eyes, tipping your head when his mouth attaches to your neck. You hum in delight, ignoring the sane side of you begging you to stop him. He rolls his hips against yours, and you can feel how hard and ready he is already. You gasp when he does it again and smirks against your skin. 

But then the weight of his body vanishes as he rolls away, laying on the bed beside you. You nearly whine at the loss of him on top of you. A coolness spreads over your skin. The feeling of his lips on your throat and the feel of his hands dragging over your waist lingers, and he watches you, waiting for you to make the next move. When you do not, he pulls himself up to sit against his headboard, his hand dropping to touch your hair. His fingers intertwine within your hair absentmindedly. 

“For someone who says they don’t know how to turn it off, I’m impressed,” he muses. His eyes are pinned, and he seems more at ease in his bed than he did in the back of his daddy’s Range Rover. 

You laugh before sitting yourself up as well. “You make it easier.” You bite your lip, and you look at your hands. Nervousness spreads through you as you confess your true thoughts. “You blur the lines of reason. It helps that you were there for my first cocaine-fueled high, gave me my first kiss, and were the first guy to touch me like this.”

He laughs before tucking the box holding his cocaine stash into his nightstand. His high helps him miss your words, and you thank the stars he has as your cheeks burn.

“It’s about to get a lot easier.”

You roll your eyes at him before smiling. “Promise?”

A knock on your front door catches your attention as you work on transferring items from your backpack to your purse. “It’s open!” You call, and the door swings open to reveal JJ. He lets himself in before shutting it behind him and wandering further into the living room. 

“Kiara sent me to give you a ride.”

“Thanks,” you mutter as you shoulder your crossbody. “Gram’s car needs more than a transmission, it seems.”

He frowns. “I could take a look.”

You do not respond for a second and instead, grab your house keys from the hook by the door before you open it to usher him out first. He stares at you, waiting for a response.

“Don’t worry about it. Jamie is handling it for me.”

“Jamie?”

“Yeah, the guy that runs the auto shop by Van’s bike store.”

“Ah.” He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts as you focus on locking up the house.

“I could’ve taken my bicycle or walked, JJ.”

“I know, but I want to talk.”

You frown and look at him as you slide your sunglasses into place. “Fine. Let’s talk on the way.”

He nods, gesturing to the Twinkie. John B had allowed him to borrow it. And you know he asked to borrow it on purpose so that he could force you to talk to him. You shut your door and settle into the seat as he turns the engine over. 

He glances at you when he begins to turn out of your driveway. “So, you and Rafe are a thing…?”

You frown and adjust the seatbelt before turning to look at him. “Really, Jay?”

He groans, gripping the wheel. “Are you?”

“JJ Maybank!” You snap and glare at him. “Is this really what you wanted to talk about? Why you borrowed the Twinkie so that you could talk to me?”

“Yes, you would not talk to me at work!”

You roll your eyes. “You’re being a baby.”

“I’m your best friend! Or did you forget that?” He glares out the windshield as he turns onto the main road. 

“No! No, JJ, I didn’t forget that!” You snap back at him. “But maybe you did when you hid your relationship with Kie from me for three fucking weeks!”

He splutters in shock, and you turn away. 

“Just drive, this conversation is over.”

He is silent as he finds a parking spot before he turns to look at you. You cannot look at him. Anger and desire burn within you when you do. 

“I need to know, okay?” He says, ruffling his blond hair. “Please!”

“Know what?” You ask, trying to calm yourself as you fidget with your skirt. 

“About you and Rafe.”

“No, you don’t. I said it was done!” You pull the handle on the door and let yourself out before slamming the van door close. You pace a few steps away before spinning to glare at him through the rolled down window. “Until you decide to be a decent friend again, don’t bother showing up again!”

You stalk away and enter the café. Kiara and Sarah both look up from the table as you slide into the booth. “Are you two going to demand answers too?” You snap. They had asked for lunch this morning before Kiara said JJ would pick you up. It is starting to feel like a setup if you are being honest. 

Sarah’s mouth falls open, and Kiara leans back as if you have swung at her. 

“What happened?” Kiara asks, glancing out the front glass windows to see the Twinkie still idling there. “Is JJ okay?”

“JJ is fine, Kie.” You glare at her, unable to help yourself. “But please go console your boyfriend if you feel the need.”

Her lips fall apart, and Sarah gasps, looking down at the menu in shock. You huff, leaning back against the back of the booth. Your hands fall helplessly beside you, and your eyes close. You exhale a steadying breath before opening them again to look at your friends. 

“What the hell happened?” Kiara asks, her voice soft and concerned. 

You close your eyes again for a moment before sitting up straight and spreading the napkin over your lap. 

“JJ was being pushy, and you know how I am with being pushed.”

“We do,” Sarah agrees, swirling her paper straw around in her cup. The ice cubes clink as she does so. You watch a small water tornado form in the glass before you meet her gaze again. Her eyes shine with sympathy for you, but you cannot acknowledge it right now or you will break down and cry. 

“So,” you say gently. “I snapped, and I’m not sure we are friends right now.”

“Whoa,” Kiara gasps. “I don’t understand, you guys are like siblings.”

You swallow, looking at the menu, and away from her as your heart feels the sharpest cut at her words. Deep down you know that they are not her words, but JJ’s words that he never spoke aloud to you. “Yeah… siblings.”

Sarah frowns, watching you with the most heartbreaking look. Her hand reaches across to brush yours now that you are messing with the menu. Her fingers curl around your palm, and she squeezes it tightly. “What was it about?”

You groan, closing the menu with a sharp snap of your wrist. “Your brother.”

“My brother?!”

“Yep,” you retort before turning to Kiara. She frowns when you suspect she already knows even if Sarah does not.

“JJ thinks they are dating, in secret,” Kiara says, smoothing her hands over the pristine tabletop. 

“What?” Sarah laughs and looks from Kiara to you. You shrug, lips pressed into a thin line. “Since when?”

“Two days ago at the Island Club,” Kiara adds in because you will not. “They were kissing-”

“First off, we were not kissing,” you snap, and her eyes dart away. “He asked me for a fresh drink and was flirting. He touched me, and that is it. He never kissed me despite the rumor mill.”

“So he didn’t kiss your forehead?” She asks, looking at the menu you are picking away at the corner of. “Because from how JJ saw it the kiss seemed really intimate.”

Sarah’s jaw almost hits the table as her mouth falls open in shock. “What?!”

You roll your eyes and lift the menu. “He did, but it was only to piss off JJ. He wants to stir up shit, and you guys are letting him.”

“Okay.” Sarah lifts her hands in innocence. “I know nothing of this.”

“I know,” you concede before closing your eyes again. “I’m just tired of everyone expecting me to be the quiet, lonely pogue of the group.”

“We don’t expect that,” Kiara mumbles, and you stare at her with a knowing look until she folds. “Fine, that is how it is, but that is not what we expect. It’s… Rafe, y/n.”

“I’m aware of who it is, Kie.”

She sighs before reaching across to squeeze your other hand. “Just… JJ is worried that is all.”

“JJ was not too worried when he was sticking his tongue down your throat at my birthday party, was he?”

Sarah gasps, and Kiara yanks her hand back as if you have burned her. 

“You said you were glad we are happy.”

“I lied, Kiara!” You snap back at her. “Okay, everyone was staring at me, and I was trying to be a good friend.”

“Okay.”

“You know what,” you huff, “this is a bad idea. I’m going home. I’ll talk to you guys when I can.”

“Wait, what?!” Sarah starts to slip out of the booth at the same time as you. Your eyes lock, and she sighs, dropping back into the booth. “Do you have a ride?”

“I’ll walk,” you mutter as you shoulder your bag again. “I need the space to think.”

Kiara stays silent, not meeting your gaze as you turn and leave without looking back.

The door chime sounds as you push it open before stepping out of the air-conditioned café into the summer heat. You exhale and turn away from the path home and instead head for the docks. 

It feels suffocating, and you want to rip the weight from your chest as you throw yourself down onto a bench overlooking the water and empty fishing boat docks. 

“Are you okay?” A voice asks as someone sits beside you. You glance to see Kelce, and your eyes widen. He chuckles before kicking his legs out. “I know, but from what I hear you are good people.”

You laugh and turn back to the water. “I think I just lost my entire friend group, Kelc.”

He frowns, reaching across to hook his arm around your shoulder before patting your upper arm. “The pogues mad about you and Rafe?”

“Me and Rafe?” You ask, the alarm clear in your voice. You push his arm off your shoulders and turn to look at him. 

“Yeah,” he muses with a shrug. “You guys seemed pretty okay with one another a few days ago. He said he was helping you with something.”

“Ah,” you clue in and thank Rafe for not telling all your secrets. “Yeah, they don’t trust him.”

He snorts. “Pogues always blaming the kooks.”

You frown and glance at the street behind Kelce’s shoulder. “What are you doing at the docks, Kelc?”

He shrugs. “I come here to think sometimes.” You lift an eyebrow, and he laughs, running his hand over his mouth. “I get stressed out sometimes too.”

“Fair,” you laugh before patting his arm as he rests it over the back of the bench. Your feet tuck in next to his thigh as you continue to sit facing him. “Where are your buddies?”

“You mean where is Rafe?” He teases. 

You shove his arm playfully, and he laughs. 

“I don’t know. Topper is still sulking about Sarah, and Rafe said he had to run an errand.”

“Ah,” you clue in. Rafe is probably at Barry’s. 

“You need a ride somewhere?”

You smile weakly before leaning back against the bench and watching the water. “In a bit, if that’s okay.”

“No problem,” he agrees and turns to look at the water too. “Should I text Rafe?”

“No,” you whisper, ignoring the replay of your fight with JJ and then Kiara. “I just want to stop and sit for a second.”

(Part Three)

Reblogs, likes, and comments are welcome and appreciated!

[spongebob-connoisseur]

So I went to Fan Expo yesterday! I wish I bought tickets for two days instead of one, i couldn't do all that I wanted. Most of my day was just waiting in line to meet voice actors.

Buuut the highlight of my day is that I met Dee Bradley Baker! I got a selfie with him and I asked what was his favorite Spongebob character to play. He said Bubble Bass's mom. He did voice impressions of them both. Its so weird to hear the voices come out of him since I'm used to hearing it on the TV. It was great though.

He LOVED my Slappy cosplay and said it was freaky. I am so so happyyyy. When I took a selfie with him, my friend said some lady also took out her phone to snap a picture of my cosplay. It may not be the most polite thing to do without asking but I really don't mind it lmao

It was my dream to go as Slappy since the first time I ever went to Fan Expo. Which isn't long ago but still. I felt like I was wearing his skin✨

I finally know how Slaps felt like in this instance wearing the Patrick costume

I spent the past week making the head out of paper mache and I'm very proud of it. It's not particularly strong because I was figuring this out while it was foing along. I spent most of my time sculpting and ensuring it LOOKED like Slappy, I didn't give much consideration towards visibility (his mouth is a seeing hole but you can just barely see. Also towards the end of the day, it began cracking around his jaw area so I couldn't wear it anymore. It's fine and easy to fix, I do kinda want to fix it up and make it stronger. Probably put a helmet on the inside and pad out the inside. I also want to give him false eyelashes lmao.

I had a lot of fun painting him though. It was like doing his makeup UwU he's also actually wearing makeup since I used an eyeshadow pallette to use as a highlighter on his skin. He's sparkly in person.

I also made his dorsal fin (I followed a basic fairy wings tutorial to make it) and my sister helped out and made the little gloves from socks. She finds this costume horrifying. I think that's the best part. I chased her around a bit as Slappy.

I also attended a panel and got an autograph from Neil Newbon who voices Astarion from Baulders Gate 3.

Mainly because my friend has been obsessed with the game lately. I didn't think I'd care much until I actually met him. Hes actually wonderful and witty and polite and professional, I could go on and on about it. My friend and I were both gushing about it. Even for the brief moment of meeting him at the table and he shakes your hand with both hands and looks you in the eye AHHHH✨✨✨😭😭

Unexpected but REALLY made my day <33

I ended up missing photo opportunity to meet Spongebob because the line was so long but this is a rare moment where I think it was worth it.

Especially since despite all of that, there are many folks who asked for pictures. Especially older folks. They were able to tell right off the bat that it was Peter Lorre related!

And the ones who were younger and closer to my age were still able to get it. I got a lot of people asking "is that Gomez Addams?" because Gomez is Peter Lorre inspired. Which was the PERFECT opportunity to infodump and tell them that Slappy and Gomez are both caricatures of Peter Lorre. I actually have a printed picture of Peter Lorre that I kept in my tote bag just for this purpose <3

When I was standing in line, one man was looking at the Slappy head for a bit and said "he has a face only a mother could love. He reminds me of a certain actor" to which I just had to say "Peter Lorre!" Hehehehehe

There was also a paramount section where they had Spongebob mini golf.

I actually met a dude while I was in line and he was also a Hardcore Spongebob fan. Its actually crazy to find someone as deranged as I am irl. It was soooo much fun just chatting with him. We ended up traded socials. I kinda wish I stuck around longer but we didn't have much time left ro really explore the con so my friend and I did a mad dash trying to get through as much as we could before the con closed.

All in all, I had fun. I'll probably reuse this costume next year. Perhaps I could find a brown tailcoat suit too so the cosplay can be 100% accurate.

Here are some miscellaneous cosplay pictures:

This one is my favorite <3

[golfgarage2022]

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[septimusmoonlight]

Anonymous: You would be a lovely experiment, I'd say. Spreading your cervix open with a speculum, implanting golf ball sized alien eggs into you one by one, each vibrating and thrumming in an odd way... certainly you'd be able to take plenty of those eggs. Most breeders would be overwhelmed by the amount in the brood, or the overwhelming sensation, but luckily you've been trained for this. Your body would be examined every second, and you'd be perfect to fill with more once this clutch hatches.

Mmm, this sounds so nice <3

I’d love to be subject to experiments like this, trained to take such hefty clutches by way of unique toys and tools. It should probably start by opening up my pussy wide enough to get to my cervix, of course, but you can’t just proceed directly deeper from there - procedure is to keep my cunt stretched until I’m more than used to it. Only then can you start fiddling with my cervix directly, torturing me with vibrators and fake eggs, spreading me wide over and over again until I stop screaming every time something touches the top of my womb. The sensation takes a long time to stop being so overpowering, especially when vibration rates are considered a legitimate variable, but I get there eventually.

That’s when I’m considered ready for the true experiments to start.

Opening me up is trivial, at this point, and so is inserting the eggs one by one. I’m so used to similar sensations that I’m not surprised by how the eggs feel, but there is something pleasantly different about them; maybe it’s how they vibrate, or their texture, or…something. I can’t put a finger on it. Whatever the case, they hum and shudder inside of me as they’re slowly piled in, my womb stretching easily thanks to my training, and my midsection swells to accommodate. I’m strapped to the examination table to prevent me from squirming too much, my legs held up and out of the way, but they’re not necessary; I lay back and easily comply with the procedure. I chew on my lower lip to stop myself from moaning as my womb is packed more and more full.

By the time the last egg of the clutch is slipped easily past my cervix, my breathing has sped up noticeably and my toes are curling. I’ve taken on similar cargo before, in preparation for this very scenario, but there’s still just something about being wrapped around a load of alien eggs - real ones - that lights up my brain. The speculum prying open my cervix is closed and removed, and I inhale sharply as my cervix pulls shut over my impressive clutch. The following examination doesn’t help, gloved hands prying open my pussy and palpating my abdomen to feel out my womb’s position. I’m so tempted to gasp and moan as the eggs shift inside me, rubbing delightfully against each other and against my walls.

As part of my payment for agreeing to be trained for this sort of experiment, I’m given room and board in this facility, of course. Luckily, that just makes it very easy for me to retreat to my private quarters right after the procedure so that I can pleasure myself. In fact, it becomes a habit of mine, masturbating furiously as I rub one hand across my lumpy midsection. It doesn’t help that the eggs grow day by day, closer and closer to hatching, and that just makes me cum harder. I just hope that the scientists don’t notice how wet I am during every single one of their examinations to make sure that the eggs and I are both in good health. Though, I will admit, sometimes I do fantasize about being taunted and teased for enjoying this a little bit too much, maybe taken advantage of by some researcher or another who wants to help me “practice” for when the clutch hatches…self-indulgent thoughts that pop up every time I touch myself.

The ever-increasing size of the eggs also increases their shivering hum inside of me, which of course is remarkably distracting. If I hadn’t gotten the requisite training, I get the feeling that I’d probably be on my knees and howling at this point, but as it is, I just stagger around, trying to support my enormous middle. I get plenty of researchers putting their hands on me at all times, some of them just so they can help me down a hallway and others so that they can show off their newest “project” to an associate. I politely answer questions when asked, deferring to the scientists when I don’t have an answer, but the entire time I’m soaking through my underwear.

One day, something inside of me lurches.

I pause in the middle of what I’m doing and gasp, putting a hand do my midsection. I wait for the movement to repeat - and it does, twice more in rapid succession. I know exactly what this means, and I hurry off - well, as much as I can hurry in my current state - to find one of the researchers who works on me. As soon as I alert them to the fact that the clutch is emerging, I’m whisked away to my usual examination room and spread out on the table I’m so used to at that point.

Heat is rising in my lower abdomen, so I inform the researchers that the stimulation is causing arousal, making sure to omit the fact that I’ve enjoyed this from the very beginning. I just don’t want anyone to be surprised when I climax on the examination table. To my surprise, they encourage arousal as a reaction, noting that such a response to a clutch as large as this one is a good indicator that further incubations will settle in positively. In fact, they urge me to embrace it, explaining that a positive association with the feeling of being a host will mean fewer problems in the future.

I’m all too glad to follow their recommendations, moaning and gasping as my midsection sways and jolts with each hatch of an egg, each shift of the alien young. I can’t help but notice that most of the researchers quickly sport impressive hard-ons in response, not even bothering to disguise them as they attend me. Some of them even rub themselves over their lab technician scrubs, and one of them goes so far as to press their bulge conspicuously against my face, disguised as leaning over the table to adjust a piece of equipment. Almost without meaning to, I mouth at it, so turned on that I’m willing to serve whoever needs it. That garners a fond chuckle from a handful of attendants, and some of them write something on a clipboard or notepad.

Finally, the time for the young to emerge comes.

One of them presses up against my cervix, and I gasp, my toes curling. I moan as it wriggles and writhes inside, doing its best to dilate me for its escape - and it succeeds with a spurt of slimy fluid, slithering out of me and into the waiting basin positioned beneath my table. I swear loudly, tapering off into another moan as a second follows the first. Then another, and another, and more and more until they’re cascading out of me in slimy bursts, gushes of fluid spattering the table and my inner thighs.

I can’t help myself and I cum loudly, arching my back, my cries of pleasure echoing from the walls, and the attendants all encourage me, more of them fully hard now. Some of them are just outright jacking off as they crowd around to watch me give birth. A good handful are still making sure that the young and I are both in good condition, of course, but most seem too distracted to bother with the pretense of an examination at this point. Honestly, that just turns me on more, and the sounds coming out of my mouth grow more obscene. It’s not even intentional - it just feels like instinct to put on a good show.

My middle shrinks, deflating as my cargo makes its escape. My orgasms decline in intensity as my womb empties, and I yearn deeply for the weight, the mass deep inside, the fullness that comes with being a host. The researchers seem to pick up on this, and the first to notice reassures me that I’ll be full again soon. I whimper, asking them to promise, and a few of the researchers laugh.

Just as the last of my young slip from my body, the door to the research room opens. Two new researchers walk in, one wheeling in a cart - and the other holding a speculum.

[aesthetic-is-life]

GOM Headcanon

Kise

He has very dry skin. He follows his skin care religiously

He has both a huge prize AND degredation kink.

Every thursday he goes to Caribbean dances and has a regular partner for the bachata

He got a degree in something with fashion and marketing. Still working as a model and influencer during the college years.

After he goes works with his sisters in their fashion company

He and Midorima fucked few times between the Teiko and the High school

He's a little bit of a whore (especially at the club half drunk)

Absolutely adores to give orals. Yes let me suck you off sir please

Very good at it

Had a huge crush for Aomine during Teiko, but nothing happened

His romantic relationship never last long (monogamy problem)

He is poly

Feels trapped in a monogamous relationship

Very closed to his sister in the adult age

Vegetarian (vegan at home)

Has a little tattoo for each miracles (like a frog for Midorima, a cherry flower for Momoi..)

Akashi

Lactose intollerant

Aroace King (kise told him about ace people and Midorima confirmed the existence)

Degree in philosophy

Sojio professional player just for saying he has a job (not really need one)

After the winter cup he had pretty bad episodes of depression and eaten alive from his guilt.

But with the power of friendship (Mibuchi had called the miracles for and intervention) and therapy he got better

He would need a heavy session of consensual BDSM (he subs)

He and his dad ignore each other basically

Didn't took well the death of his horse, and after that doesn't want any more pets

He and Midorima suggest books each other

Doesn't drink, but can handle alcool pretty good

He play golf with the mother side of the family

Totally an addicted to

Only the Gom knows that he was diagnoed DID (dissocative identity disorder)

He would be a perfect menwife

Doesn't like to drive

Midorima

Doctor bccouse his daddy told him to

He and Takao got married at some point

His best man was Akashi

His dad was kind of homophobic, but had a change of heart

For each birthday he does the the natal chart of all the Gom + takao and Kagami

Can't hendle alcool (no at all, like half beer and he is WASTED)

Takao is an architect and he designed their house

Doesn't talk before his coffe

Morning person (after the coffe), Takao is not

Still listen to the oroscop every morning and brings the luck item (Takao is forced to have his too)

Has a thing for dirt talk (Takao doesn't complaint)

Still play piano and composes song for Takao

Would like to have a kid or two

Rei Ryugazaki (from free!) are cousins

Every sunday the have a lunch with the over miracles in their home

Aomine

His career in the NBA (because yes he entred) has benn pretty short for injuries

so he come back in Japan and makes the delivery for the flower/ plant shop of Sakurai.

in the US he and kagami lived togher, but they were in diffrent teams

He adoped a dog he found on the side of a road

Really like beers of all kind and flavors

Decent cook

He and Kuroko fucked everywhere in Teiko. But like everywhere, not corridor, bathroom, storege room or class was safe (they enjoyed)

He and Kagami had drunk and angry sex in the US times

Prefers women (boobs)

As an adult he went to therapy and understood what was wrong during the last years in middle school (depression time)

He and Momoi are big fan of horror movies

Very warm person

Can't stand gloves

Kuroko

Cold hands

He and Kagami moved in together, but neither of them belives in marriege

Kuroko would love a cat, but Kagami is allergic

He works in a kindergarten

and come home full of drawings of the kids

Doesn't want to have children though

Exhibitionist kink

Having sex is a park in the middle of the night

Kagami usually cooks and he drives

Brings his kindle everywhere with him

He smokes a little (like two or three cigarette per day)

Murasakibara

Chronic back pain and at the joint because he grew up too fast

Acne and bad skin in general because he eats to much chocolate and sweets in general

Became a pastry chef

He, Himuro and Kagami opened a nice coffe shop

The type with cultural events, book crossing and stuff

Doesn't really like having sex. He finds it really tiring

He and Himuro have an open relationship

Ass eater king. Not a big fan of penetrative sex because he dosent't want to hurt Himuro with his huge cock.

Has a little aquarium and adores stares at the fish

Can't swim

He got diabetes at some point

Momoi

She got a degree in statistic and after a very high paid job

When Baribe went out, she and Kise went all pink

In her highshool years she did something with some girls, but she found it pretty wet. Prefers small and cute boys

Seirously considering breast reduction surgey

She and Sakurai are together

They have an adorable little dog

When Aomine was in US they used to videocall every fucking day

She and Kise are the queens of gossip

Never had smth physical with Kuroko

Very good at videgames (had a youtube chanal)

especially the shooting ones

Wears high heels at work

Adores cherry

Allergic to something stupid like kiwi or apple

During college she made a lot of female friends

Pretty dominant in bed

Good at drawing

[itsohh]

Blacklight

A/N: Female reader, just a lil dumb idea that I played around with @lululandd​

Summary: The group of you head out for a 'team building' exercise of mini golf. A rather frequent occurrence and this time, Gaz has selected a blacklight theme venue. It's a real shame about that quickie you had with Ghost prior.

Word count: 2674 

Warnings: Smut

AO3 Masterlist

Parked in the dark safety of an alleyway, the night sky worked well in making the tinted windows of the car darker. A match made in heaven, no one would really notice what occurred inside. His hand wrapped around your throat, an anchor as you moved on top of him. This hadn’t been a planned thing, rushed and full of urgency the pair of you only had about ten minutes total before you would be irritatingly late. Head tilted back, your eyes were closed with a drunk expression spread across your face. He watched as your lips parted and allowed small moans to escape your lips. Your hands were planted steadily on his shoulders while your hips rolled in circles.

Ghost's pants were barely open, just enough for his cock to be comfortably free, buried deep inside of you. Your underwear was pushed to the side while your skirt covered the pair of you. His neck gaiter had pulled down to expose his face to you. A light squeeze around your neck had your eyes crack open and met his. Despite being in the dark, you could see the warm brown of his eyes that gazed into yours.

Your hips didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Each roll, each movement of your hips had pleasure swell inside of you. So deep and incredibly full you swore you could feel him in your chest. “Simon.” You panted out his name, obvious that your second climax was near. A climax that he was determined to join you on. His large hand directed your throat towards him until you were close enough for him to plant his lips on yours once again. It was a wet messy kiss, hardpressed as you pushed your chest against his.

Simon's free arm wrapped around your waist and you could feel the way he bucked up into you. So close, there wasn’t any real rhythm to his movements, not anymore. “Simon.” You pulled back slightly and gasped against his lips while your nails dug into his shoulders.

“That's it, that's it, pretty girl. Come for me.” His voice was gruff, full of lust as he slammed into you. He pulled you hard down against his cock while you came. It was an action that finalized his own end. Inside, his cock throbbed. He groaned out as his eyes shut, his dick filling you up with as much seed as you could possibly take. It spilled over the edges of your cunt and a small amount leaked onto the edges of his pants.

Loud pants echoed from the pair of you which turned into a light laugh from you when you let go of him and blinked. “Fuck.” You ran a hand through your hair as smiled at the man, joy written across your face. The same joy was reflected across Simon's face and he let go of your throat. His hand drifted down to your thighs and lightly rubbed the top of them under your skirt. An action that you had done to him ten minutes prior that had started everything.

“You alright?” He raised a brow and you nodded.

“Yeah, just needed a second. What time is it? We should get going.” You asked and his eyes flickered to his watch.

“Let's get you cleaned up first.” The driver-side door clicked open and with one hand he gave in a push. A shutter of cold air had you gasp out and Ghost gave you a small look of sympathy. He swivelled around so his feet were planted on the ground outside. It gave you an easy way to get off his lap. The second you remove yourself from his softening cock, the pair of you both let out a groan while his seed was quick to dribble down the inside of your thighs. Your eyes fell to cock which fell to the side while Ghost leaned over to the passenger side of the car and grabbed your jacket.

“Here, before you catch a cold.”

“Thanks.” You shrugged it on while he opened the glove compartment for tissues. His focus on you, he wiped away the two lines from your thighs while you adjusted your underwear back into place. It would catch the rest of his seed, it would be wet against your cunt but a piece of you didn’t really mind. You found your phone in the pocket of your jacket and pulled it out while Simon cleaned himself up and tucked his cock away.

“Where did Gaz say this place was by the way?” Your eyes flicked up from your phone when he got out of the car, his neck gaiter and hoodie back in place. Completely cleaned up, no one would be the wiser.

“Just down the road about half a block. It’s not far, come on.” The car locked and the pair of you were on your way.

Soap waved as he spotted you both coming from afar.

“‘Bout fucking time the pair of you showed up.” Soap slapped an arm around the pair of you and squeezed in the small gap.

“Still waiting on Laswell.” Price huffed from his spot in the front of the cafe.

“Is Mrs Laswell coming?” You asked and your memory went back to the last time she brought her wife along to a game of mini golf.

-

“I beat you for real this time.” Soap smugly looked towards Gaz.

“No way, I got third this time.” No one bothered to try and get first or second place anymore. Not with Ghost and Price around.

“I dunno Soap, Gaz did pretty well in the first half.” You leaned forward while Laswell calculated the results. Forbidden from crowding around her, it was all silent when she finally cleared her throat. She had a surprised expression across her face for a split second because it was covered with a neutral poker face that she had long since perfected.

“In third place…” Everyone leaned forward. “Price.” She looked up and he shrugged. Victory didn’t have much meaning to him. Meanwhile, you, Gaz and Soap all gaped at each other. Someone else got either first or second. The first time in forever. “Second place was Ghost.” His eyes looked over to you and he gave you a quick wink before Soap and Gaz practically rushed the woman. “Get back, like a pack of dogs the pair of you.” She huffed but rolled her eyes with fake annoyance. “Well done darling, you came first.” Her eye line went towards her wife who had been rather silent. Caught off guard the woman smiled at her while Gaz and Soap stared. Who knew that she was a master at mini golf?

“Ah, maybe next time Soap. Well done. Did a hell of a job to beat those two.” Gaz praised her and everyone did a little round of applause. Meanwhile, Soap shuffled next to you.

“Yah know what she does for a living?”

“No idea. Gotta be something good to beat those two.” You whispered back.

“Only one way to find out.” He waved you his phone and you shook your hand.

“Laswell will kill us, wait until after.” You whispered a hiss and he nodded.

The moment after the couple had left, the pair of you furiously started to type away on your phones, both googling her name to find out any information.

“What are you two doin'?” Gaz asked as he slid into the booth with Ghost next to him.

“Trynna figure out why Mrs Laswell’s so good at mini golf.”

“Maybe she's got practice?” Gaz offered and the pair of you looked up.

“Nah, gotta be something else. Aren't you curious?” Soap prompts the man and soon Gaz has his phone out as well doing his own research.

“Man, I can’t find shite.” Soap grumbled when Price showed up, hands full with drinks while his phone rang. Ghost too had joined in on the group ‘project’ and Price let out a sigh when he pulled out his phone and answered.

“Forgot something?” He asked, his eyebrows raised, and the phone call was shortly cut off. The stern sound of your name came from his lips. It had you jump slightly and he soon did the same with Soap and Gaz’s name.

The three of you looked at him like deer in headlights and he gave you all a disapproving look. “What's up, Cap?” Gaz was the one to rip the bandage off and he sighed.

“Stop fucking googling Laswell's wife.”

“Hey, we would never.” Soap let out a protest and both you and Gaz jumped on it.

“Yeah cap, think you got the wrong people.”

“Dunno how you got that idea, sir.” You grinned and he gave the three of you a tired deadpan look.

“She can see all the shit you do on your phones.”

Soap stared at him wide-eyed and the three of you subtly closed the tabs. “Everything?” Soap's eye looked to the side.

“Yeah cause you morons are using your fucking work phones.” Price went to open his mouth again when his phone rang again. You saw Laswell's name pop up. His eyes narrowed and looked towards Ghost who hadn’t been part of the conversation.

“Would the unknown person with the Swedish IP please stop googling her wife?” The three of you looked at each other confused and you leaned towards Soap.

“Hey, that's a really good idea to use a VPN.” Your hush voice spoke and he nodded in agreement. Price took the phone away from his ear and placed it on the table with the speaker on.

“Whoever's on their personal phone I can still gain access rather quickly. I get notified when her name is searched. If you don’t stop digging right this moment I will take control of your phone and I will go digging.” Her voice had you all frozen with wide eyes.

“It's closed.” Ghost's voice had your heads' snap towards him in surprise. It was so obvious yet none of you had connected it. Laswell let out a small sigh of relief.

“Thank you. If you want to know more about her, next time ask her directly. I trust this won't happen again?”

“Yes ma’am.” There was an echo as the line went dead and Price sat down and grabbed his drink with a grumble.

-

Gaz’s voice brought you back to the present.

“Nah, Laswell said it's just her this time.” Gaz stretched. He had a grin on his face, it lit up his entire face and you could tell he had been looking forward to his pick.

“So what is this place? You barely told us anything about it.” You asked as Laswell approached.

“Apologies, hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Ah don’t sweat it, Laswell.” Gaz led the group through the cafe to the front entrance where you all grabbed a club. “This is a pretty standard mini golf place but it's blacklight themed.”

“Sure is!” The attendant smiled. “Party of six for today?” She cheerfully asked as she led the group to the cashier. She then led you all into a highly decorated area, and not many people were around. Neons were all over the place with spray-painted fake trees and an outlined course. It was a nice place.

You were at about the third hole when you noticed it. The way the light hit Ghost's pants. You froze and he raised a brow when he noticed the way your eyes stared at his crotch. The small areas that his cum had leaked now glowed rather brightly under the light. All colour drained from your face.

“Here, your turn.” Soap moved for you and you nervously shot your ball. When you bent over slightly, your ass stuck out and Ghost could see the small lines that glowed down your inner thighs. It was far more noticeable the higher he could see, the areas where his cum had overflowed and settled between the pair of you. You managed to get your ball in on the first hit and when you started to walk back, Gaz was already working on following your example.

“Hey uh LT, I think you got a little something on your–” Soap had noticed the marks too but hadn’t quite connected the dots. Soap's voice trailed off as Ghost stared at the man. Emotionless. He opened his mouth but closed it again to turn to you. The same expressionless look was on your face. His face turned back to Ghost and then his crotch. “Just uh right uh-”

“Got what Sergeant?” Ghost’s voice was cold, almost daring him to continue, to figure it out.

“You know what? Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Price came up with Laswell and she headed towards the line as Gaz leaned on the wall. His eyes glanced at Ghost’s crotch like everyone else.

“That’s cum innit?” Gaz immediately said with no hesitation and you let out a cough of surprise. Prices glanced over to your thighs that had pressed together under your skirt.

“Cowgirl.” Price nodded towards Gaz and you could feel the way that your face heated up due to the conversation. Ghost's brows lowered in an annoyed fashion but he let them have their fun. Soap's eyes darted from yours to Ghost before he whipped his head around to look at Price.

“How in the hell did you figure-”

“Boys, do you mind? I’m trying to take my shot.” Lawsell let out a sigh and everyone went dead silent. She lifted her club and Price let out a small snicker under his breath, his eyes on yours.

“Seems Ghost already did.”

Kate's club collided and her ball flicked to the side and off the course. Laswell let out a small sigh while Gaz laughed with Price.

-

You watched as Price finished up the final shot of the night and gave his score to Laswell. Ghost silently appeared next to him and you turned and gave him a small smile. “You alright?”

“Yeah, could go for a shower.” You hummed out a laugh and his eyes squinted in a smile.

“Right, in third place…” Your conversation was cut off as Laswell started. “Ghost.”

“Bit off your game tonight hun?” You whispered and his eyes sized up your body.

“Bit of a distraction you are.”

“Second place, Price.”

“Hmm, what's Price’s excuse?” You hushly spoke and Ghost leaned against your ear.

“Never said you were distracting me. Dirty old bastard that one.” You elbowed him in the side.

“Heard that Simon.” Price spoke to the left of you but there weren’t any hurt feelings or hostility. Only a long-term friendship and familiarity. “Takes one to know one doesn’t it?”

“Right on that Captain.” Ghost nodded.

“First place for the first time. Soap. Well done.” Soap beamed at the result while everyone gave him a small applause.

“Right, your drinks on me then.” Gaz slapped Soap on the back and the group of you headed out into the cafe bar.

“You two calling it a night?” Laswell asked as you started to follow Ghost. He gave you a look that told you it was up to you.

“Yeah, catch up on some rest.”

“Can’t argue with that. Have a good night.” She nodded and you waved off to the rest of the group. Before you got out of earshot you managed to hear them for one last time.

“Maybe no more blacklight next time Gaz? Scared ‘em off.” Price's laugh of a taunt had you giggle and Ghost raised a brow at you but soon joined in on your light mood. With his arm around your shoulders the pair of you retired for the night, but not to sleep.

[ofallthingsnasty]

I just remembered that one ridiculously cute thing in uni during the body donor class - for context: we dental students got pooled together with the meds during the pre-clinical semesters a lot, and that class was no different.

We were separated in two main groups, and one body donor was shared between 12 students - coming in from Monday to Thursday. On Fridays, you could come in until 12 and just look at the donors without any supervision, you just needed your coat and name tag. And I remember going in before the situs oral and trying to understand how blood flows through the heart and then one of the meds (super intimidating buff guy) saw me struggle and was like '... Hey do you want me to explain that to you?' and then we sat there - him with a whole heart in hand, explaining it all to me, more than happy to help. Not gonna lie, I had a bit of a crush on that guy for the rest of the semester. We weren't even in the same group, so we never saw each other during prep hours but I always had my eyes peeled for him during lectures haha tw.anatomical stuff (i'm german so if my translations are a little off then i'm sorry hah), cadavers, just fluff

Long story short - I'm thinking about that with Law. You and Chopper are at the same table, come in every Friday to review the material of the week, both a little on the not-so-studious side. (Don't get me wrong, you go to every lecture - but those suckers are two hours long and not the only class you have. It's easy to lose track, especially when all you wanna do is catch up on sleep during the weekends.)

You pull your donor out of the body bag, lay them down and go over your notes, some sessions more and some less successful. The two of you are usually not alone, either - there is always someone else rifling around on their own table. Today it's a guy with a severe expression and some earrings. You've seen him in the lecture hall but you and Chopper aren't in the same group as him, so that's really all you know. You get through this week's lecture notes just fine - until it's time for the heart. The way blood gets fed through the atriums and ventricles, how the pressure changes, systole and diastole, the coronary arteries... You two are feeling beyond lost and so, so close to simply giving up - it's just too much and too intricate (at least for someone who has heard all of that info only once, maybe twice). But then there is also that other student - and maybe, just maybe, he knows more than you two do. It's not unusual to ask - and so that's what you do.

Law can't be assed, actually.

He's reviewing his notes, trying to get his own studying done. He's really not the type to do tutoring, doesn't have the patience for it. But you two are loud - hemming and hawing over your own cadaver and if he has to hear you confuse the mitral valve with the tricuspid one more time, then he's going to get a migraine. What are twenty minutes of his time if it means that you get done with your little idiot session and finally leave the hall? So he sighs and motions you to come closer. He's surprisingly good at explaining. The heart of his donor in one hand, a tissue forceps in the other, he walks you through every fact one would want to know about the organ. You probably have stars in your eyes while he talks because finally, finally you're grasping the material - and really, it might be confusing at first, but it's not that hard. He even lets Chopper regurgitate it all to him and has the two of you giggling over it. Law is just glad you two morons are finally having your little eureka moment because it means that you'll be off in a matter of minutes.

But no good deed goes unpunished.

It's then that you notice his tattoos through the nitrile gloves and suddenly he's the most fascinating living guy around (the most fascinating guy is dead on table 5, with golf ball sized cysts in his liver, sorry Law). He gets bombarded with questions, you and Chopper all over him, way too loud, too excited, too fucking annoying. He's already regretting his little act of charity.

And not only do you have the audacity to ask him to explain fetal circulation (because, please, please it's so confusing) as well, no, from that moment on, you're all over him very goddamn Friday and he's been added to three different group chats the moment Chopper and you leave the hall.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

That was hot since we’re on a smutty role you know William is trying to restrain himself from fucking her on the golf course they got an audience and here she is testing his patience and limits by giving a good view of 🍑 and she sending him pics cause she’s being a little brat his brat 🔥

This may not be exactly what you had in mind nonnie, but Loren has to ease into channeling her inner brat 😉 She first needs a little help from a friend to show her how it's done. Lastly, I'm sorry these get a little long - I apparently don't know how to stfu sometimes.... 🤐

William is used to having to restrain himself from fucking Loren in most public situations.

Food shopping. Brunch. A get-together at a friend’s apartment.

An exclusive golf course during a quick couple’s getaway with David Pastrnak and his wife.

Long time brothers from another mother, David and William were keen to introduce their respective ladies to each other. David and Rebecca met Loren during her first stay in Stockholm, and it was clear from the onset that the two ladies didn’t ‘just get along’. They seem to bring out the more daring, sassy and fun sides of each other’s personality.

On the day the four arrived at the resort, there were two large events taking place. The women to men ratio - it was evident that the men had no shortage of gorgeous women to gawk at.

Later in the evening, Loren and Rebecca continued to get ready for dinner in their suites, while William and David headed to the bar for drinks while they waited.

As Loren and Rebecca walked into the busy restaurant, they eventually spot their men at the bar.

The ladies both scoff and roll they eyes as they witness William and David being their friendly selves while being surrounding by some adoring female fans. They can’t help it. They’re both charming, bordering on flirtatious - as unintentional as it is, that’s just how they are.

Rebecca notice Loren was a little rattled seeing all the women that were surrounding her beau. Rebecca gives her a pep talk and tells Loren to try and follow her lead. After all, she’s been with David for many years…this scene is nothing new to her.

The whole evening, the ladies are very attentive to their men. Of course, it spanned well into the after hours where Loren tended to William orally - after which, he fell asleep, leaving Loren unfulfilled.

In the morning, Rebecca texted Loren to wear the new golf outfit they bought together, but cover it up with track pants and a sweater.

They get to the course, and both Rebecca and Loren discard their sweats, donning their new golf attire. Rebecca’s in a form fitting white shorts and a white v-neck sleeveless golf shirt and Loren’s in a little black skort with the hem just covering the apex of her thighs and a tight white tank top. Loren’s natural and full breasts look simply magnificent in this tank.

William looks flustered especially when he sees other golfers rubber-necking after Loren as they walk to their cart.

“You look….” William makes the ‘whoa’ expression as he looks her up and down.

Loren approaches him and smiles seductively as he puts on his golf glove. She runs her hand over his covered chest and torso and murmurs “so do you….” and lightly kisses his cheek. At the same time, she reaches her hand around and gave his ass a little squeeze.

At the first tee, Rebecca was up. She gracefully leans over with her tee and her ball in her hand and inserts it into the ground. As she stands up, she gives her long hair a shake and as she assesses the fairway. She looked as enticing as a Victoria Secret model as she checked her stance and positioning before teeing off.

Loren watched how skillfully and subtly Rebecca tempted her husband from afar, and she saw David enjoying every second of watching his wife.

Rebecca hit a beautiful drive, just slightly to the left of the fairway.

David was next, and his drive was not nearly as impressive as his wife’s.

Loren was up next. Rebecca had given her a few pointers, not in relation to golf however. Arch her back. Ass out. Give the booty a little more shake than usual.

William watched as Loren leaned over to slide her tee into the ground. As if everything was in slow motion, his eyes landed squarely on that beautiful round ass, the one he had planned to grip onto the night before had he not fallen asleep.

William had only been out golfing with Loren a handful of times, but he was aware that she had skill. Today, there was a different air about her. She stood taller, more confident, and William couldn't help but melt a little looking at her. She positioned herself with her legs spread just right, doing a little of everything Rebecca suggested. William didn’t care that she seemed to be teasing him a little. He was more than happy to visualize some pre-dinner activities once they're back in their suite.

With William being William, he had to rib Loren a little bit. “Love the show but we might need to speed this up a bit.”

Loren retorted without moving from her stance or missing a beat. “I'm not fucking Patrick Cantlay....” She swayed her hips seductively as she heard the group laugh.

With the most perfect sounding “thwack”, Loren’s ball sliced through the sky, landing squarely in the middle of the fairway.

Loren would never dream of acting outwardly smug, but fuck...that drive was good. And her game only got better.

All day long, her confidence grew, and maybe a little bit of an attitude was born. Golf seemingly has so many sexual innuendos and Loren and Rebecca seemed to have thought of them all.

When William was taking a practice swing, Rebecca commented "Wow - it's got the biggest head and stiffest shaft I’ve ever seen..." William dropped his head chuckling and David muttered something under his breath.

As the group arrived at the next hole, Loren called over from the ball washer "David - I can clean your balls if you want?" Rebecca nearly choked from laughter.

Loren soon found out that teasing William plus having an outstanding round of golf made her even more irresistible to him. His hands were dipping under her skort while she drove the cart. He made lude suggestions in her ear right before she sank a 12 foot putt.

Loren and William won the round but there were no celebratory drinks following the game. David all but hoisted Rebecca over his shoulder when they returned to the resort and headed to their suite.

William on other hand was more sensual with Loren when they returned to their room. He told her to stay in her golf attire. He positioned her on the bed on all fours, and moved the fabric that clothed her pussy to the side. He edged her into oblivion with his hands, mouth and cock, praising her and showing her exactly how proud he is to have her.

[instructionsnotincluded]

That snippet was absolutely incredible 😍🥵. I'm so excited for Wild Winds! If you are able to and want to, would you please be able to give us another snippet if you have time? Obviously, it's absolutely okay if not, though! ❤️

Yesssss let’s do another snippet! Although this one isn’t spicy!

18+ | MDNI | Mentions of Canon Violence, Language.

Logan slammed the Jeep into park faster than she ever had before, throwing the door open before jumping out. Tannyhill was a fortress, a massive white symbol of wealth and selfishness that just hovered in the background. A few American flag’s scattered around the wrap-around porch and in the distance she could make out the Cameron yacht anchored along the dock. Her sandals smacked against the steps as she hurried up them, eyes wild as she reached the door. Her finger jammed itself into the doorbell twice in a row, one push after another, and she just pressed into it a third time when she felt arms wrap around her body, hauling her off the porch.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rafe breathed into her ear, manhandling her down the porch, Logan digging her heels into the planks to try to push him off, losing a shoe in the process. Rafe let her go once they turned the corner, the front door opening a second later to reveal Rose Cameron in gardening gloves.

“I’m so sick of these kids…” Rose muttered under her breath before the door closed loudly behind her.

“Let go of me.” Logan shoved Rafe away and he held his hands up in surrender, both of them breathing heavily after their little power struggle, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Rafe hissed back, crowding her into the side of the house to keep her from being seen from any of the windows, “You can’t come here in the middle of the fucking day, you know that.”

Logan shoved him hard, her hand hitting directly into the middle of his chest and Rafe took a step back. She knew it wasn’t from her strength, the man in front of her was a lot stronger than her and there was no doubt in her mind that if he didn’t want to move, he wouldn’t have. “What did you do to Pope?” Logan demanded, hands on her hips as realization fell across his face, the oldest Cameron sibling taking a step back to lean against the porch railing across from her, “Amy told me she saw you and Topper with a golf club and—and JJ says his entire fucking face is bloodied up…”

“It sounds like you don’t need to ask me what happened…” Rafe rested his hands along the railing on either side of him.

“What is wrong with you?” Logan shook her head, “Why—why would you even…”

“Your brother held a gun to Topper’s head, Lo.” Rafe shook his head, “You know that’s a declaration of war.”

“Of war?” Logan threw her head back, hands lifting to drag thorough hair, “Are you fucking…twelve?”

“JJ’s a loose canon,” Rafe shook his head, “I told you to handle that…”

“I am handling it,” Logan took a few steps away, shaking her head back and forth rapidly as she gripped her roots, “but then you go and beat the shit out of Pope? Fucking…Pope? The kid who never does anything wrong? How does that make any fucking sense?!”

“I’m not the enemy here, Logan…”

“Well you’re kinda lookin’ like it,” Logan snapped back, “who walks around and beats people up with a golf club? Topper fucking deserved the gun to his head, Rafe…”

Rafe only lifted a shoulder, his head turned to glance around the porch, as if he expected someone to step out at a moment's notice, “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know. I wasn't there. Remember?”