#golf grip types

[macrogolf12]

Enhance Your Swing with a Tapered Golf Grip from Macrogolf

A comfortable and effective grip is one of the most important aspects of a successful golf swing. It’s the connection between you and your club, and it can have a significant impact on the accuracy and consistency of your shots. At Macrogolf, we understand the importance of finding the right grip for your game. One of the most popular options we offer is the tapered golf grip. Designed for golfers who want greater control and comfort, the tapered grip can make a noticeable difference in your overall performance.

 What is a Tapered Golf Grip?

A tapered golf grip features a design where the diameter of the grip gradually narrows from top to bottom. This unique shaping allows for a more secure and comfortable hold, especially for golfers who struggle with maintaining grip pressure throughout their swing. The idea behind the taper is to provide a natural feel in the hands, enhancing both control and power as you make contact with the ball.

This style of grip is available in different materials and textures, catering to individual preferences. Whether you prefer a soft, cushioned feel or a firmer, more responsive grip, the tapered design ensures that your hands are properly aligned, reducing hand fatigue and improving your ability to execute smooth, accurate shots.

 The Benefits of a Tapered Golf Grip

One of the most significant advantages of a tapered golf grip is the enhanced control it offers. As the grip tapers, it naturally encourages proper hand placement, ensuring that your hands remain aligned with the club throughout your swing. This alignment leads to more consistent ball striking, which ultimately results in better accuracy and distance control.

Another key benefit of the tapered design is its ability to promote a more relaxed grip. A relaxed grip reduces tension in your hands and wrists, which in turn allows for a smoother, more fluid swing. This can lead to more consistent results, particularly for golfers who tend to grip the club too tightly or struggle with excessive hand pressure during their swings.

The tapered grip also provides superior comfort during long rounds of golf. By allowing your hands to naturally fit into the grip’s shape, the taper minimizes discomfort and fatigue, even during extended play. The ergonomic design allows for a more efficient transfer of energy from your hands to the club, helping you maintain control without sacrificing power.

 Ideal for Different Swing Types

The tapered golf grip is ideal for a variety of swing types and can benefit golfers of all skill levels. For players with larger hands, the narrower end of the grip can help prevent overgripping, which can lead to tension and inconsistent swings. On the other hand, golfers with smaller hands will appreciate the comfortable feel of the grip and the added control it provides. The taper allows for a more secure grip, preventing the club from slipping during the swing.

[techdriveplay]

How to Improve Your Golf Swing

Mastering the art of golf is a journey that combines precision, practice, and an understanding of the game’s subtle mechanics. Whether you’re a seasoned player or just starting, knowing how to improve your golf swing can be the key to unlocking a better score and enjoying the game more fully. In this guide, we’ll explore the essential techniques and adjustments you can make to refine your swing,…

[thegratefulgolfer]

Sam Snead Talks About The Golf Grip

Slammin’ Sammy Snead is one of the top 5 golfers of all time. His smooth swing and prolific winning record demonstrate that he should never be overlooked when discussing legends. I stumbled across a video where Snead talks about his grip during his golf swing that I found very interesting. So much so, that I think it is worth sharing. Continue reading Sam Snead Talks About The Golf Grip

[hysteria-things]

please write a story where either chris or matt is veryyyy dominant and can throw the reader around (might sound weird) but like a size difference 🙏

CAMPSITE

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you feel sex deprived when you go camping with your boyfriend and his brothers for a few days, and you don’t think you can wait any longer.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, heavy petting, semi-public (?), marking, p in v, degradation, mentions blood, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,038

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: combined these two because they both fit the idea when i was brainstorming! hope you guys like it :)

“is everybody in?” matt asks as he turns the keys into the golf kart ignition. the boys have a campsite on a campground, and you guys have been going camping every few weeks. it’s summertime, so it’s the perfect weather to do things.

the campground is nice. it’s big with other people’s trailers there, dogs and little kids run around from morning to curfew.

doing activities like this is nice to get away from life for a bit, especially social media. having to text people back can be so exhausting.

a seatbelt clicks behind you. “yup. all ready.” chris says.

the sun is setting, and you hear the weekend band playing in the distance. matt’s driving of course, and you’re in the passenger seat. nick and chris are in the back facing outward.

the music starts to get closer as matt drives down the small hill that leads to the main part of the grounds. there’s a dog park, a horseshoe game setup, a lounge, and a playground/basketball court. the stage is just outside of the lounge and the bathrooms are on the other side.

there’s a fire going in the middle of where the picnic tables are. people from around the campgrounds are either sitting or standing by their golf karts, some dogs barking as well.

kids play on the playground and matt finds a spot to park. rainbow beams flood the air from the stage, the band singing whatever country song they’re playing.

fairy lights hang on the trees above. the four of you get up from the kart, heading closer to the stage. not too close, but close enough to get a better view.

the music is loud, people’s voices echoing through your head. cigarette smoke enters your nostrils and the sounds of beer cans opening flood your ears.

you would think this type of scene isn’t for the triplets and you’re not wrong, but something about being in the wilderness is so calming.

matt wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close and swaying to the music. the only downside of this trip is that you can’t have sex.

not to sound like a fiend, but you get sexually frustrated when you go a few days without it. you bite your lip as you start getting dirty thoughts in your mind, squirming in your boyfriend’s grasp.

“you okay?” he asks, a little loud so you can hear him over the music.

“mhm,” you say with a nod.

you put your hands behind your back, reaching towards matt’s crotch. it’s dark enough that people can’t see what you’re doing, but they’re all distracted anyway. however, you’re so close to his body that people definitely can’t see what you’re doing.

you start to palm his dick through his jeans, and he takes an arm off your shoulder and holds your hand still. “stop.”

obviously, you don’t listen, and you move your hand again. he’s starting to grow at your touch, but grips your hand tighter. “stop.”

you look at him innocently over your shoulder, your hand movements becoming faster on his erection. he groans, thrusting his hips slightly into your palm.

“we’ll be right back,” he says out of nowhere, lifting you over his shoulder since he’s so much bigger than you. he walks away before the other two can say anything, and he doesn’t bother taking the golf kart.

nick and chris stare at each other. “they’re going to fuck.” chris says, taking a sip out of the pepsi that he brought with him.

“oh, yeah.” nick agrees.

the walk back to the trailer feels short as you giggle back. matt’s boner hurts like a bitch as he opens the door and goes into the bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. “think you’re funny, huh?” he says lowly, immediately taking his shirt and jeans off.

you don’t say anything. except you look at him with doe eyes. then, he starts taking off your clothes. you’ve been waiting for this.

his dick springs out when he takes his boxers down, and it does look like it hurts.

he starts to crawl on top of you but then flips over causing you to gasp. you’re now straddling his lap.

you don’t have a chance to react when he grabs your hips and slams you down onto his cock. you whine as you feel him stretch you out completely. you start to bounce slowly, putting your head into his neck to leave kisses.

matt hisses when you bite down, sucking and marking his neck. you repeat that action multiple times, still bouncing painfully slowly.

he sighs annoyingly, flipping you over once again and pulling you closer by the legs before slamming into you immediately at an ungodly pace.

“matt!” you scream, your nails digging into his shoulders. “f-fuck!”

“you think you can tease me and get away with it? think again, sweetheart.”

you whimper, your back arching with each thrust. you repeat his name along with moans and cries of pleasure.

“or is this what you wanted?” he asks, grunting at the sudden pain in his back as you drag your nails when he hits your g-spot suddenly. “i should’ve taken you right then and there so people know what a fucking slut you are.”

“i-i’m—” your cut off when your legs start to shake, your eyes rolling back when the knot in your stomach is close to snapping.

the scratches you’re leaving on matt’s back start to bleed the deeper your nails dig, and he moans at the feeling. “you’re going to make me cum if you keep doing that shit.” he says through gritted teeth, getting close to his orgasm because he knows he’s making you feel this good.

a shaky moan leaves your mouth when you start to cum around his dick. he grunts as he thrusts into you two or three more times before pulling out and cumming on your stomach.

you pant and quiver, a smug smile on your lips. matt turns his back to retrieve your guys’ clothes, and your eyes widen. his back is red, scratches of different shades running down his bare skin. “your back… is fucked up.” you say between pants.

he smirks. “wouldn’t be the first time.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts

[wileys-russo]

the one where the kids go bowling II barça femeni

part of the 'pollito' universe, stuck tiny silver flash the one where the kids go bowling II barça femeni

"-and you will message me once you finish up and get to jana's, sí?" you pushed off alexia's hands which fixed your necklace so the clasp wasn't showing with a huff.

"sí ale! por favor can i go now?" you groaned, hovering by the door with an overnight bag in hand feeling like a little kid going to a sleepover as alexia fussed over you.

it was jana's birthday and she'd invited a few of the younger girls to go bowling and out to dinner, offering for you to spend the night at hers with bruna and ona which you'd happily accepted.

with all of the girls backing you up and promising to keep an eye out for you and vicky, the captains had no choice but to agree though you knew you largely had patri to thank for that who shockingly had been the voice of reason in the scenario.

"sí, enjoy yourself but do not do anything i wouldn't do nena!" the older girl warned as you heard olga snicker from the sofa and you leaned around alexia to shoot her a grin which she returned with a wink, mouthing for you to have fun.

"don't listen to her! bad influence." alexia tutted ushering you out the door and glaring playfully at her girlfriend over her shoulder who blew her a kiss and turned back to typing away at her laptop perched on her knees.

"alexia!" you whined as she grabbed the back of your jacket to stop you racing off, following after you to bruna's car who paled at the sight of her captain gesturing for her to roll down the window which she did.

you managed to tug yourself free of the catalans iron grip, slipping into the backseat beside ona. "hola alexia." bruna swallowed nervously as the corner of the older girls mouth tugged upward a little in amusement.

"feliz cumpleaños superestrella!" bruna sighed in relief and loosened her grip on the steering wheel as alexia's stern facade melted and she gave jana a dazzling grin where she sat in the passenger seat.

"gracias ale." jana returned the grin gratefully. "no invite for me to come bowling? the disrespect for your captain chica's." alexia tutted, pushing away from the car with a wink.

"no abuela's allowed!" you called from the back with a grin, smacking bruna on the shoulder and ordering her to drive as alexia shot you a glare and opened her mouth to respond, bruna pulling out quickly from the curb before she could do.

"if she makes us run extra laps for your mouth pollito i'm gonna kill you!"

~

"hola mis chicas!" you launched yourself into the middle of the small group of girls who'd already arrived and were sat in the booth by your designated lane, groans of pain greeting you where you'd landed on them, shoved to the side as ona bonked you on the head with your bowling shoes and handed them over.

you let out a yell as no sooner did you bend down to lace them up a body slammed into you nearly taking you off the bright blue leather lounge entirely.

"lópez!" you shoved her back, the two of you wrestling around for a moment before salma stepped in to break it up and sent vicky off for her turn.

"you know you are supposed to knock the pins over bru, sí?" you teased as the girl bowled a zero and stomped back to the lounges with a scowl.

"sí its not like golf bruna, lowest score loses not wins!" jana added on sitting down beside you with a smirk as bruna flipped you both off and sat down herself with a huff.

you all cheered as vicky bowled a strike, taking a photo for your social media and squealing as janas hand moved to brush the back of your neck as she set something down behind you.

"why is your hand so cold! dios mío." you cringed at the icy tips of her fingers as jana laughed and prodded at you. "this is yours." jana tapped one of the bright red slushees she'd put down and poked your cheek before getting up to take her turn.

what she failed to mention was the utter importance that you drank only the slushee which was yours.

but too busy laughing at your friends woeful attempts at bowling you grabbed jana's without realising, frowning a little at the odd taste but unsure what flavour it really was you paid it no mind, sticking your bright red tongue out at vicky who giggled and did the same.

vicky was also too busy laughing at ona who routinely bowled gutter ball after gutter ball and swore so much that a mother on the lane over came and gave her a talking to about family friendly language, the older girl going bright red and stammering out an apology.

what your friends failed to mention was why it was so important the two of you drank the slushees that were given to you, and that was that on a perhaps poorly minded decision the older girls had snuck in a flask of vodka and spiked their slushees.

not enough to get them drunk of course just...a little pleasantly buzzed.

but with you and vicky having little to no experiences drinking, the small amount of alcohol had gone right to your heads though neither of you had tweaked the reality of your situation just yet.

which is why you weren't sure what was so funny as you stood to take your turn to bowl, or why your fingertips suddenly felt weird and your legs a little tingly, or why you couldn't work out which lane you were supposed to bowl in given you had to squint to narrow it down from three to one.

"apresúrate pequeña we have dinner reservations at eight!" jana groaned impatiently, tapping her foot with a roll of her eyes as you closed one of yours to try and stop the lanes from moving.

giving it your best go you wound up and let go of the ball, tripping over your own feet and crashing to the ground with a thump as the ball sailed up and over the gutters, landing in the lane of the group beside you who jumped in shock.

you felt hands on your body trying to help you up an voices muffled like your head was underwater but their faces were a blur and all you could do was giggle, poking at the weird blobs in front of you as a warmth spread through your body and you let out a loud and sudden peal of laughter.

"is she..." salma trailed off with wide eyes at bruna who was on your other side helping you up. "no. she can't be? hers and vickys didn't have anything in them, we made sure." bruna denied with a firm shake of her head though as vicky fell off the edge of the lounge with a giggle her certainty faded.

"what is wrong with them?" esme asked worriedly, helping vicky up as you were sat back down and went limp, closing your eyes and giggling to yourself at nothing, enjoying the feeling of the warmth sitting comfortably now in your rosy red cheeks.

with the other girls distracted arguing over who spiked what you sat up and grabbed your slushee, downing the last few mouthfuls as your elbow brushed jana's side and she turned.

"aye pollito no!" the birthday girl groaned snatching the now empty cup from your hand, vicky already having finished her own as she tried to stand up to take her turn and promptly fell right back down nearly into emse's lap.

"sniff that bruna. idiota i told you this was a bad idea!" jana seethed smacking the younger girl across the back of the head and shoving your empty slushee cup in her face which indeed smelled like vodka, esme doing the same to vickys which was the same story.

"me? this was your idea amiga its your birthday!" bruna scoffed as the two began to bicker, ona trying her best to break it up as you took the opportunity of them being distracted to sneak off, suddenly having an overwhelming urge to run away.

knocking your knee against vickys she shared your grin, the two of you dropping to your knees and crawling away to the booth beside your own lane, grabbing one anothers hands with a giggle and racing off.

"hey vuelve aquí!" salma noticed the back of your heads race off and yelled out, yanking the others up as ona stayed back to reset the lanes so you could all leave.

you and vicky didn't make it far, tripping over your own feet and grabbing out for her to steady you, instead accidentally pulling her down to the ground with you as the two of you collapsed into a pile of giggles and hiccups.

bruna apologizing quickly to the staff who wandered over to check everything was okay jana and esme hauled you up as salma grabbed vicky, ona joining her as the group made their way out of the bowling alley.

"mierda i don't feel good." vicky mumbled and salma barely turned before the younger girl threw up the entire contents of her stomach onto the asphalt, bright red bile pouring from her mouth as everyone cringed and you took the brief moment to again run off.

"chica no!" jana moaned in annoyance dragging her hands down her face, her and bruna racing off after you as the others hung back to look after vicky.

"can't catch me chica's!" you sang out with a wild grin, racing between parked cars and ducking and weaving your way to escape the two older girls chasing you down.

"i don't think we're making that dinner reservation amiga." bruna doubled over trying to catch her breath as jana just missed you, groaning tiredly as you took off again with a joyous whoop but then suddenly you stopped, careering over and vomiting up your own bright red bile making them wince in disgust.

"we need back up, now."

~

when mapi had seen jana's name and number flash on her screen she'd frowned, assuming it was just an accidental call and letting it ring out, returning to the crossword on the table in front of her.

but when it rang again curiosity got the better of her and she clicked accept and tucked it into her shoulder. "hola jana? está todo bien?" mapi had questioned with a frown.

"vale vale slow down chica, she is what?" ingrid looked up at this, sitting up from where she'd been sprawled out across their lounge reading a book, sending her girlfriend a curious look whose frown deepend.

"vale. have you called alexia? oh, i see. sí message me the address and i will leave now amiga, get them some water, small sips." mapi sighed, sending ingrid an odd look as the norwegian snapped her book shut and pushed up to her feet as mapi uttered a few more words and hung up the phone. "whats wrong amor?" ingrid asked as mapi tucked her phone into her pocket with a sigh.

"believe me mi vida, you do not want to know."

~

jana could have cried in relief when she saw mapi's car pull up, the girl parking and making her way over as bruna rubbed your back and vicky was slumped into salma mumbling nonsense with a giggle every now and then, both of you having spent the last ten minutes voilently throwing up until there was nothing at all left in your stomachs.

"what happened?" the older girl sighed at the sight in front of her, wincing as all of the girls launched off with their own recall of events. "mi dios chicas, one at a time! bruna, go." mapi rubbed her temples and waved as everyone fell silent bar yours and vickys giggles.

"we didn't mean to mapi, promesa. we just wanted to have a little fun and we only put the alcohol in our drinks. but they got mixed up and they both ended up drinking the spiked ones and now they're drunk." bruna winced at the dissapointed sigh that came from the defender stood in front of her.

"i will take pollito home and she will stay with ingrid and i. who is looking after vicky? should i call patri?" mapi asked with a raised eyebrow as a chorus of no's rang out, nobody wanting to involve any of the captains.

"she will stay with me, esme is too." salma confirmed as mapi nodded, wincing as the girl in question lurched forward and threw up again. "you might want to take a bag in the car with you." the older girl suggested pulling a face as everyone got to their feet.

"vamos pequeña, up we get!" mapi grunted grabbing your hands and pulling you to stand as you giggled and your legs gave out, jana steadying you on your other side as she and bruna helped walk you to mapi's car.

"we really are sorry mapi, it was a complete accident." bruna blushed bright red as you were buckled into the back seat and mapi slid into the drivers seat and lowered her window.

"you did the right thing by calling me amiga's. but this stays between all of us, nobody else in the team will ever never know this happened or i was here. vale?" mapi warned sternly as both younger girls nodded hastily making the defender soften and chuckle a little.

"feliz cumpleaños jana, i do not think this is a birthday you will forget anytime soon mi amiga."

~

"oh dios mío pequeña, stay still!" mapi groaned, grabbing the collar of your shirt as you tried to race off again, the car ride seemingly recharging your battery as you were giggling and babbling nonsense the entire elevator ride up.

hearing her voice on the other side of the door ingrid hurried to pull it open as mapi wrestled to get her keys from your grip where you'd snatched them.

"liten!" ingrid gasped as mapi pushed you inside her apartment and you tripped over your own feet tumbling to the floor and sprawling out on the hardwood giggling to yourself.

"is she-" ingrid realised offering you a hand up which you battered away as you rambled something inaudible in spanish and covered your face with your hands, body shaking with laughter.

"drunk? sí." mapi sighed watching you with a shake of her head before catching ingrid up on the nights events which had lead up to this. "alexia is going to flip." ingrid whistled knowingly, mapi cursing as your leg lashed out to kick her in the shin and you laughed.

"el diablo." the defender huffed, ingrid gently pushing her back as she went to advance on you, your usual love language which would have meant mapi kicking you back hardly appropriate right now.

"alexia will not know, i already messaged her from pollitos phone saying she arrived to jana's. she is a good kid, this is the first time anything like this has happened and really it was an accident." mapi sighed, a small smile curling onto her lips as you spotted bagheera wandering out of the bedroom and gasped crawling across to him on your elbows.

"maríaaa!" you sang out suddenly breaking the two older girls out of their conversation. "sí pequeña?" mapi sighed with a smile of amusement, shaking her head at the way bagheera had settled himself on your chest.

"i'm hungry make me food." you demanded, giggling at nothing as your fingers felt tingly and you ran them through bagheeras soft fur. "what have you eaten today kjære?" ingrid interrupted before mapi could.

"i made avocado toast and eggs this morning but we-oh we were supposed to go to dinner! its janas birthday!" you clapped excitedly and sat up, scaring bagheera who jumped about a foot in the air and scurried off back to the bedroom.

"they'll be picking me up soon-oh mierda!" you swore as you tried to stand and the room span, sending you tumbling right back down onto your ass with a groan of pain followed by a fit of laughter.

"vamos estúpido, we need you in one piece por favor." mapi chuckled moving to help you up, slinging your arm over her shoulder and maneuvering you to lay down on the sofa as ingrid started to make you some toast.

"maps...the room is spinning make it stop!" you whined covering your face as the defender patted you on the head with a smile. "sí pollito, you are drunk. remember this feeling the next time someone ever offers you a drink!" mapi chuckled and you let out a deep sigh, removing your hands and rubbing your eyes furiously.

"i'm not drunk!" you scoffed once the room stopped spinning, wiggling your toes which felt all tingly and electric. "sí mi amiga you are, do you remember the red drink from bowling?" mapi asked gently and you looked at her like she had three heads.

"i haven't been bowling! i tried to go and you manhandled me onto the lounge and now my legs won't work. are they broken?" you began to panic as the pins and needles spread and your eyes widened.

"no idiota, they're not broken." mapi laughed, moving to massage your knees as you sighed in relief and ingrid chuckled from the kitchen.

"maría." you started as mapi hummed still massaging some feeling back into your tingly legs. "i love you, so much." you sobbed out, mapi's head whipping sideways in shock as you started to cry.

"i know we fight and mess around but you're like a big sister to me and i love you so much!" you sobbed out, sitting up and throwing your arms around her neck as the defender bit down on her lip to stop from laughing, rubbing at your back.

"i think we've moved through the stages. from giggling, throwing up, running away, falling over to sappy mess." mapi spoke to ingrid as you cried into her shoulder and the norweigan set down a plate of toast on the coffee table.

"ingrid!" you sobbed letting go of mapi and opening your arms as the brunette stifled a laugh herself and allowed you to wrap her in a tight hug. "i love you both so-oh toast!" you spotted the plate behind their backs and wiggled free reaching out for it.

"imbécil." mapi mumbled with a chuckle as you munched away happily, eyes beginning to droop with each minute that passed as your giggles returned, both girls sitting beside you on the lounge as ingrid clicked the tv on.

"so...vamos whose dropping me to bowling?"

[crowsofdarkness]

A Fight For Darkness: Chapter Two

-gif not mine. credit to owners-

Pairings: Eric Draven(Bill Skarsgard) x Female!Reader.

Content Warnings: language, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of taking own life, black mail, blood, smoking, drinking, mentions of drug use, arranged marriage, 18+ smut that I will mention at the beginning of the chapter.

Summary: An unknown text and a list full of questions for what happened to your sister leads you down to the underground fight ring that belongs to none other than Eric Draven, The Crow. Once he captures your eyes with his, the web you were desperate to untangle suddenly tightens.

Authors Note: This is not cannon to The Crow(2024). Shelly nor her and Eric's love story exist in this series. Eric does have his fast ability to heal thought. Tags are open for this series as well!

A Fight For Darkness Masterlist

“I’m only going to ask one more time, Y/N. How the hell did you get into the club tonight?” 

Eric’s voice fell on my deaf ears as I continued to stare straight ahead at the peeling paint on the wall, almost in a near catatonic state. My body couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried; not even my toes that were still covered in blood since I kicked them off before my run from those two men. 

I blinked before gazing up towards Eric, who was leaning against the door of the room with his arms crossed over his bare chest. Even in my current state, I looked over the variety of weird tattoos that covered his skin and could feel something inside of me twinge with disgust. 

No, not disgust. Something new for me. 

Arousal?

Typically I wasn't attracted to those kinds of men, my type more on the preppier side. The ones that wore polos and spent their Sunday afternoons at the golf course. 

So why was I currently staring at the hard v-line of his hips, practically drooling over this man? This stranger?  

It’s the shock, I told myself. It had to be the shock of the last ten minutes. I’m not thinking clearly. 

I racked my brain trying to think of an excuse, not wanting to give him the real reason why I was here tonight all the while trying to prove my innocence that I had nothing to do with the two dead bodies in that room. 

One with a slit throat and the other with a bullet hole in their head. 

Blinking away those images, I ran a dry tongue over my lips and let out a staggering breath. 

“I was looking for someone,” I did my best to ignore how shaky my voice sounded. 

Eric raised a brow. “Who?” 

“No one of importance,” my eyes flicked down at my hands, stained with blood. 

I began scratching away at it, opening to rid myself of what I saw.

“How’d you get in tonight?” Eric continued to lean against the door. “I haven’t set out any new invitations in months and this is the first time I’ve seen you here.” 

“Wait,” I looked up at him. “This is your place?” 

“Don’t change the subject. How did you get an invite?” Eric asked again through thin slits of his eyes. 

“Uh,” I began rubbing my palms on my bare thighs, hoping maybe that action would wipe away the dry blood. “Someone sent it to me.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie. 

I was still telling the truth while not divulging too much into my true motives for showing up tonight. That should keep Eric happy enough to let me go. 

“Who?” His deep voice questioned. 

Shit. 

“I don’t know,” I sighed, still rubbing my palms on my thighs. 

Up and down. 

Up. 

Down. 

Just as Eric was about to ask yet another question, there was a rapid knocking on the door. 

“Not now!” He called back. 

“Boss! You need to come see this!” A worried voice said. 

Eric grumbled a spew of curses under his breath before taking three wide strides over towards me, yanking my body off of the couch. His grip on my elbow was fierce, his fingers digging into my skin. 

“What are you doing?” I demanded, my heart nearly bursting out of my chest in fear so I dug my feet into the ground. “Let me go!” 

“I don’t know who you are or why you were here in the first place. Do you really think I’d let you walk around my club unsupervised?” Eric whirled his head towards me with dark eyes. “For all I know, you could have killed those two people.” 

“I didn’t!” I said, shaking my head violently with wide eyes. “I promise! I just walked into the room by accident. I was trying to find the way out!” 

Eric cocked his head to the side with an assessing gaze. It lingered over my face for longer than I deemed necessary yet when his eyes watched the way my throat bobbed, something fluttered deep within my gut. 

“Was that before or after you killed someone?” 

Before I could protest again, someone pounded on the door causing Eric to continue dragging me out of the room. It was so fast, I hadn't had time to see if the man that was leading us through the now empty fight club was the same man I’d run into before; the one that was chasing me. 

People were working on cleaning up the fight cage, scrubbing out the blood from the mat, while others were sweeping up the trash that littered the floor. It felt sticky under my bare feet and internally I cringed at how gross this entire place was. 

Surely there was no way my sister would be involved in some place like this. 

The second we stepped, well more like Eric dragged me through the threshold of the room, I took in sight of the two dead bodies now in better light. My stomach dropped out of my ass and bile rising in my throat. 

It was so much worse than I thought. 

The woman who had her throat slit also had bruises covering her body while the man on the floor not only had the bullet hole in his head but all of his fingertips were cut off. 

“Oh god,” I ripped myself from Eric's grasp to hunch over on my knees, emptying my stomach all over the floor. 

Eric made a noise that sounded a mix between disgust and annoyance as he watched me continue to lose my stomach contents. Eventually when all I could throw up was air, he let out a sigh. 

“I’m going to guess that you didn’t kill these two.” 

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before slowly rising back to full height. “What gave it away?” 

Something like a smile pulled at his lips but he refused to let it show and instead, motioned towards the two bodies behind me. 

“Do you know them?” 

Refusing to look, I shook my head. “No. I’ve never seen them before. I stumbled in here when I was looking for the way out.”

“Did anyone see you in here?” Eric asked. 

My lips parted but I hesitated, not knowing if it was a good idea to let him know. 

“Don’t bother lying. When you barged into my office it looked like you were running from something,” he noted. 

Letting out a shaky breath, I nodded. “Two guys but I didn’t get a good look at their faces because of how dark it was in here. The only light that was one was the one above the bed.” 

Now, there was a brighter light on, illuminating the entire space. 

Eric scratched at his bare chest, staring at me for a long moment, and I felt myself becoming small underneath his intense gaze. But it wasn’t only that. I found myself feeling that unknown feeling again, like earlier. Something fluttered low in my gut, a warmth spreading through my veins, and I shifted on my bare feet when they stuck to the nasty floor. 

He must have noticed how not only gross I looked but the mess surrounding us as well because he turned to one of the guys in the room with us; one of his guards. 

“Did we get an I.D on these two?” 

The shorter one nodded towards the girl. “Some hooker.” 

I sliced my eyes into him. “That’s not nice.” 

“If you expect me to care about some drugged up hooker, you’re fucking crazy,” the guard took a step towards me. 

Eric was quick to step in his path, blocking him from me. “Watch it, Greg.” 

The guard, Greg, clenched his jaw. “You don’t know who this broad is, Eric. She shows up in your office covered in blood. For all we know, she could have killed these two.”

“Did you not see me throw up all over the place?” I pointed to the ground. 

“That doesn’t mean-.” 

Greg began but Eric held up a hand to silence him, the muscles in his back tensing. 

“Who is the guy?” He asked, changing the subject. 

“That’s where shit gets interesting,” Greg ran a hand over his jaw. “Alexi Sokolov.” 

Eric somehow even went more tense in the shoulders as his head snapped over towards me. “You’ve never seen these two before?” 

“I already told you, no,” I shook my head with narrowed eyes. “Should I?” 

“Alexi is, well was the leader of the Russian mob here in the city. He frequented my fight club a few times,” Eric ran a hand through his short hair. “And that doesnt help narrow down the list on who killed these two.” 

My blood ran cold and skin clammy as I thought back to the two men I ran from. Could I have stumbled into something more than just a simple murder while looking for my sister? Could the Russians be involved in my sister's disappearance?

The task of finding my sister was becoming more daunting and I suddenly questioned if I could do it on my own. 

“I need to get out of here,” I muttered more so to myself. 

I made it all of two steps before Eric’s large frame blocked the doorway. 

“You’re not leaving until I know for a fact you’re not linked to these two,” he crossed his arms over his chest. 

Scolding myself for letting my gaze linger on his thick arms, I narrowed my eyes up at him. 

“I already told you. I don’t know them,” I said through gritted teeth. 

“Until my guys finish running a background check on you, you’re not going anywhere. Especially like that,” Eric nodded towards the dried blood covering me. 

“Did you say you’re running a background check on me?” I nearly yelled. 

He shrugged. “I don’t know you and you still won’t tell me how you got in tonight. So you could save us all the trouble and just tell the truth.”

“Are you going to let me go if I do?” 

Even though my head was held high and eyes were narrowed at him, my voice shook with undeniable fear. 

Eric’s eyes raked over my body, a smug smile on his face. “Depends on what you tell me.”

Gnawing on my bottom lip, I glanced around the room at Eric’s guards who were busy cleaning up; dragging the bodies away and scrubbing the floor with bleach. The severity of what exactly happened tonight was beginning to bury itself deep inside of my bones, the fear making me sick to my stomach again. I could feel the bile rising in my throat again so I swallowed a few times in an effort to keep it down. 

“I don’t know you,” I finally spoke while looking back at Eric. “How do I know you won’t kill me?”

“If I wanted to, you would have been dropped dead on the floor the second you stepped foot into my office,” Eric answered without an ounce of remorse. 

I blinked, mouth agape. “You-you kill people?” 

Eric stood unmoving in front of me, a thick wall of muscles, and his silence was the answer to my question. My palms began to sweat and I took a step away from him, all the blood draining from my veins. 

“I’m leaving,” my voice was meek. 

“No you’re not. Not until you tell me what you were doing in my club,” Eric grunted. 

Not even giving me more than a few seconds, his grip was tight around my elbow as he all but dragged me out of the room and towards his office. 

“Let me go!” I yelled while digging my heels into the ground. 

“And have you run off? I don’t think so,” Eric snorted. 

As we neared his office, he was about to toss me inside when someone else appeared in the doorway making Eric curse and putting me behind him. Due to his height, I couldn’t see over his shoulder so I peered around his shoulder to see a leggy blonde leaning against the doorframe, dark red lips pulled up in a smile. 

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you for our celebratory fuck because of your win tonight!” 

I internally frowned at the feeling that festered low in my gut. It was unfamiliar but began to burn when she took a step towards Eric, which in turn made him take one away, bringing me along with him. 

“How’d you get in, Lindsey? I have you blacklisted ” He said, voice clipped. 

The blonde rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you blacklisted me over a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?” Eric’s shoulders tensed. “I caught you snooping through my computer and you proceeded to lie to me when I confronted you about it.”

“You think you saw me,” Lindsey held up a finger. 

“I have you on video surveillance,” he replied bluntly.

That seemed to shut her up as Lindsey crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I wanted to see you. So what do you say when we head back to my place?” 

Eric’s grip had loosened around my elbow while he was talking so I took it as my opportunity to quietly slip away, doing my best to ignore the stupid and annoying feeling stabbing my gut. 

Why the hell was I jealous? I had no right to be. I didn’t know her or Eric. 

I only made it a few steps before Eric’s hand shot out to grab at the nape of my neck, yanking me back to him. 

“Nice try,” he breathed against the shell of my ear. 

“You seem busy,” I said, ignoring the way my body ignited with a blaze from his grip on the back of my neck. “I don’t want to get in the way of your booty call.”

Something flickered in his dark eyes. “Are you jealous? Want me to bend you over and fuck your tight cunt instead?” 

I swallowed thickly when my core ached at his vulgar words. Never in my life had a man talked to me this way before. So why was I so turned on by it? 

“You’re disgusting,” I tried to fight against him which only made him tighten his grip on the back of my neck, yanking me towards his chest. 

I glanced up at him with my best pissed off expression as nipples brushed over his bare chest through the thin material of my dress. I bit the inside of my cheek at how good it felt, not wanting to let the moan slip from my clenched lips. 

“You didn’t say no,” he said with a smirk. 

“Did you want to?” I blurted. 

What the fuck? Why did I ask him that? I didn’t care to know if he wanted to fuck me or not.

Eric’s eyes flicked up and down over my body again. “Tempting. I must say, the dried blood on your skin is making my cock hard.”

“Can I please go home? I just want to leave,” I begged quietly, changing the subject away from the images of him bending over. 

Truth be told, I was exhausted. I had no idea what time it was and wanted nothing more than to crawl into my bed in hopes of forgetting everything that happened. Also, the earlier revelation that Eric may have killed people made me want to run far away, never looking back.

“Stop fucking asking that,” he muttered under his breath while dragging me back towards his office where Lindsey continued to lean against the doorway; her eyes flaring when she noticed me. 

“Who’s this?” 

“Get the fuck out of here, Lindsey,” Eric demanded and wrenched her out of the way. 

Her protests were hushed by him slamming the door in her face before he swung on his heels, pointing a finger at his couch. 

“Sit.” 

“Fuck you,” I snarled. 

Something flickered in Eric’s eyes as his upper lip twitched but instead of saying anything, he forced me to sit on the couch ignoring my protests. 

Like previously, I sat on the couch while he sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. His thighs were spread wide on either side of my closed legs, almost as if he was blocking me in. Eric was still shirtless and I forced myself to keep my eyes on his, not wanting to get caught taking in the sight of his abs. 

He doesn't have a six pack. That man has an eight pack. 

Scolding my inner thoughts, I played with the ends of my dirty dress. 

“So,” Eric’s deep voice broke through the quiet. “How did you get an invite to my fight club?” 

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, contemplating whether or not to lie to him but knew that in the end, the only way I was getting out of here was giving Eric what he wanted. 

Not everything. 

“Uh,” I cleared my throat while sitting up straighter. “Some unknown number texted me with the address and a picture of a bloody crow.” 

Eric hummed. “The Bloody Crow invite. Only specific people on the list get that invite.”

“Do you think you could figure out who sent it?” I asked. 

“The list is over two hundred people long.” 

Not knowing what to say, I nodded. I’d been curious as to who sent me the text earlier today. There were only two people who knew about my search for my sister and that was my dad who was dead; he killed himself shortly after my sister went missing so unless he was contacting me from beyond the grave, it wasn't him. The other was the detective assigned to my sister's case and something told me he wouldn’t be sending me somewhere where I could find out more info about the case than him. 

“Why did you come here tonight?” Eric asked. 

I hesitated for a beat, not knowing if I could trust him with my search. But maybe if I gave him a little bit of information, he could point me in the right direction. 

“My sister,” I said. 

“I don’t have any female fighters.” 

I shook my head with a sigh. “No, she’s missing. Has been for the last six months and I’ve been looking for answers.” 

Eric’s left brow rose. “Isn’t that a job for the police?” 

I snorted. “The police haven’t done shit. They gave up after a month. Everytime I try to get updates, I’m directed to voicemail after voicemail of cops who could care less. So it’s up to me to find out where she is.”

“What makes you think she’s still alive?” 

My heart sank at Eric’s words. I knew there was always the possibility that my sister would be dead, especially with how long she’s been missing, but I refused to think that. I would find her and when I did, she would be alive. 

“I don’t,” I answered honestly. “But I’m not going to stop looking for her.”

“You think she came here?” Eric asked. 

I let out a long sigh before easing back into the couch. “I doubt it. Illegal underground fighting rings wasn’t something she was into.” 

“Who said I run an illegal establishment?” He asked with a mock hurt tone but then his face turned serious. “Do you have a picture of her? Maybe I can recognize her.” 

My knee brushed up against his, a surge of static flowing through me, but I ignored it. 

“How can I trust you? You could lie to me just to throw me off course,” I said with furrowed brows. “I don’t even know you.”

Eric scratched at the tattoos on his chest and shrugged. “That’s right, you don’t. And I don’t know you. But you stumbled into my fightclub. Someone sent you an invite for a reason. Which means one of two things. Either it wasn’t meant for you or I have a mole inside my club.”

“The text said I could find answers for my missing sister here so I think it was meant for me.” 

“Well, then it looks like I have a mole,” Eric’s jaw clenched, a vein on the side of his forehead prominent with a deep shade of purple. 

I motioned to my purse that was still on the table next to Eric. “I have a picture of her in my wallet.” 

Once he rifled through my purse to find the picture, he stared at it for a long moment before shaking his head. 

“I’ve never seen her before.” 

“I’m starting to think this was a dead end. Whoever sent me that text did it to throw me off,” I said. 

Silence fell between us, our deep breathing echoing in the room, and I took in the sight of Eric’s office. It wasn’t big by any means, just a desk with a chair, a couch, and a punching bag in the corner. There was a closed door behind the desk to which I assumed was a closet. 

A rough knock sounded on the main door to his office and Eric called over his shoulder. “Come in!”

One of his guards peered his head inside, hesitating when he saw me sitting on the couch. Eric noticed but instead of kicking me out, he nodded towards the guard urging him on. 

“Uh, boss. We reviewed the tapes and we got something.” 

“What did you find?” Eric asked while rising to his feet. 

I didn’t bother to move, only slink further deep into the couch. 

“Ms. Y/L/N was telling the truth. She came alone and as soon as she saw you fighting in the cage, she tried to leave but ended up in the room with the two bodies. She was in there less than two minutes, not enough time to kill them.”

“Told you,” I grumbled under my breath while crossing my arms over my chest. 

Eric glanced down at me. “Did I disgust you that much during my fight?” 

No, not you. 

“I don’t like violence,” I stated with a shrug.

He hummed before looking back at his guard. “What else did you find out?”

“Whoever the two guys that caught here weren’t that slick. While they were chasing her, they ran into direct sight of the cameras. We got a good look at their faces.”

“And?” 

The guard shifted on his feet before running a hand over his face. “It’s bad.” 

“Worse than the head of the Russian mob being murdered in my club?” Eric retorted back. 

“Worse like they are Roeg’s men.”

A slew of curses fell from Eric’s mouth as he rested his hands low on his hips, the black gym shorts he still wore from his fight hanging even lower. He began pacing the length of his office and I watched with slight fear in my eyes, heart beating rapidly. 

“Who’s Roeg?” I dared ask. 

Eric ignored me, turning back to his guard. “How sure are we that they got a good look at, Y/N?”

“They didn’t get a good look at me,” I said. “The room was dark.” 

“Are you positive?” He directed towards me. 

My lips parted to speak but quickly I snapped them shut when I realized I wasn’t entirely sure if those two men actually saw me or not. 

Running a hand through his hair, Eric went over towards the other door in his office and opened it, pulling out a hoodie and a pair of sweats; him obviously keeping extra clothes in there. He tossed them to me with a pointed finger. 

“Get dressed. Leave your bloody clothes here so we can burn them.” 

“Why?” My voice shook as I held the clothes to my chest. “What are you going to do?” 

“Are we clear?” Eric asked his guard. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We did a full sweep of the building and the grounds outside. Roeg’s men are nowhere in sight. Jackson is reviewing the tapes from the backdoor to see how they got in.”

“Send me the footage as soon as you get it,” Eric said and then grabbed a shirt from the closet, throwing it on. “Didn’t I tell you to get dressed?” 

I slowly stood from the couch, still holding the hoodie and sweats close to my chest. “Why? What’s going on?” 

“You’re leaving. Go home and never come back here.” 

Eric’s words should have elated me, finally being able to go home, yet I continued to stand in front of him unmoving. Something in those bright eyes gave way that he was keeping secrets. 

Instead of arguing, I let out a long sigh and nodded. “Trust me, you’ll never see me here again.”

“Good. You can get dressed in here and one of my guards will walk you to your car.” 

He walked towards the open door of his office, muttering something to the guard, but my voice called after him. 

“What am I supposed to do if one of those guys shows up again?”

Eric paused for a moment, contemplating something in his mind, before stalking back over to his desk and ripped open a drawer. 

“If something happens, call me,” he handed me a card with his number on it but held it back before I could grab it. “This doesn’t mean you can text me asking me what I’m doing or what my favorite color is.” 

Narrowing my eyes, I snatched the card from his hand. “Trust me, Eric. You’re not even my type.” 

Liar. 

Ignoring the voice in my head yet again, I held his gaze for a solid three breaths before he let out an amused noise and turned swiftly on his heels, hating right in the doorway. 

“A piece of advice?” Eric called over his shoulder. “Stop looking into your sister's disappearance. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

[captain-bubble-wrap]

could you do R4 with connor bedard i love ur writing ☺️☺️

Aww, you're so sweet, babe! ☺️😚 Thank you! 🩷🩷

R4- "You've never looked so beautiful."

The Chateau rose high into the Whistler-Blackcomb mountains. Out-of-season for any type of Snowsport, the grounds were now the prime location for summer weddings and golf retreats. The hotel was unlike anything you had ever experience personally, bar seeing such places through your phone’s screen, but never in person. Connor had invited you to a family wedding high in the mountains of BC and you didn’t feel prepared for such an event. You had attended weddings, sure, but never in a modern day castle.

The two of you had arrived the day before, and you had rode around with Connor in a golf cart while he played a round with his dad and other members of his family. The mountain air had been so refreshing in comparison to what you had gotten accustomed to in Chicago. Nothing could beat the alpine freshness and you would be sad to leave it when the time came. Now, however, it was time to get ready for the event that had you here.

It hadn’t taken Connor long to get ready, having just needed to put on his suit and fuss over his hair. You, on the other hand, had hair, skincare, makeup, and everything else you felt was required. Over an hour you’d make him wait on the other side of the bathroom door, but when you got done, you felt his wait would be worth it. The black, floor-length gown just barely kissed the floor after you had your heels on; you felt like a beauty queen. The scent of your floral perfume had filled the room and your jewelry glittered with each movement you made. With a deep breath, you’d grip the doorknob and finally let Connor see you.

Like he had been waiting on you the whole time, his eyes immediately locked on to you. You’d make your way over to him while Connor just stared, like he was completely unable to speak.

“Do I look okay?” You finally asked, breaking the silence between you both.

Connor just continued to gaze at you; completely in awe of his date for the evening. “You’ve never looked so beautiful.”

His compliment had taken your breath away as you smiled at him, having to advert your eyes for just a moment. “You’re too nice,” you told him, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks.

“I mean it, thought,” he added, getting to his feet to be eye-to-eye with you. “You look stunning.”

“Thanks, baby. I’m sorry-- I just don’t know what to say.”

Connor shook his head slightly, “You don’t have to say anything. You’re definitely going to get some attention.”

“Oh no! You better let me hide behind you!”

“Why?” He laughed through his signature smirk. “Why would you want to hide?”

“I don’t know,” you replied nervously. “Not used to such attention, I guess.”

Connor took your hands and stepped closer to you. “I won’t force you into anything you don’t want to do, okay? I just think you’re too pretty to be hidden away.”

His lips were soft against yours when he leaned forwards to kiss you. While your heart still raced from your nervousness about the wedding, knowing you’d have Connor to lean on gave you some comfort. Though he didn’t always say much, he was always attentive.

“If you get overwhelmed, I’ll get you out of there, okay? We don’t have to stay for the whole reception. I’d rather spend my time with you anyways.”

Smiling, you’d give his hands a soft squeeze. Connor always kept you guessing sometimes --in a good way-- and he never failed to surprise you when he had one of his Disney prince moments. There was the hockey player, then there was your boyfriend. There was a side of him the hockey media and fans didn’t see, and that was your favourite. That was all for you.

[diaslust]

heyoo 😭 i never requested before but could you do ex!choso with a reader he thought was flirting with someone? smut or nott i dint care I JUST NEED MY GLORIOUS KING🙌

— ࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ —

EX!CHOSO PUNISHES YOU AFTER FLIRTING WITH A STRANGER . . . ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

warning/what's included: ex!choso, switch!choso, finger fucking, nipple pinching + twisting, semi-public sex, fem!reader, punishment sex, spit play, praise kink, hair pulling, bareback sex, whimpering/whiny choso 😫, pet names, NSFW ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

summary: ex!choso sees you talk with another stranger, noticing that they’re trying to take you home. flirting with you. he stops the conversation really quickly, and decides to punish you in the club bathroom for flirting with another man.

wc: 4.5k

a/n: i love ex!choso/dom!choso he's so amazing. if you can't tell i want dom!choso. also.... couldn’t tell if you wanted dom!choso...so just did him. he literally brainrots my mind. ((pls pls ignore if there’s spelling/grammatical errors it’s like 3 am)) ++ YES choso is my glorious beautiful vulnerable KING. thanks for requesting, anon! (hopefully you’re okay with fem!reader) i loved writing this :3 hope this is good enough for you ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

BE WARNED AND ENJOY ♡

𐙚⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ᡣ𐭩⋆.𐙚⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ᡣ𐭩⋆.𐙚⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ᡣ𐭩⋆.𐙚⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ᡣ𐭩⋆.𐙚⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚

you scoff, seeing that being at the club with your friends in order to get over choso didn't help. at all.you ask the bartender for another drink, hoping it'd let you forget him. 

"hey beautiful," you turn to see who the unfamiliar voice belonged to. it was a man, trying to hit you up. for fucks sake, was god finally on your side now? 

"hey," you reply warmly, just as you get your second drink.

while you talk with the stranger trying to flirt with you, you don't notice that your ex, choso kamo, is there too. it was purely coincidence that he was there too, as he was at the club trying to not think of you too. "for fucks sake," he grumbled under his breath. women swayed and grinded on the dancefloor, but none of them caught his attention as much as you did. your hair was utterly gorgeous, and he couldn't stop thinking on how he used to tug on it while he pounded you from the back. and jesus, how he wished to snatch you from that man's arms and fuck you right in front of him. he was already so hard, yet you haven't even touched him yet.

"so, yeah, i- i golf with my dad and, uh- corporate-rich leaders," the stranger said. he already had such an obnoxious character. you lazily nodded, sipping your drink. you also knew that this man was such a pushover. well, what did you expect? he had, like, a 5 minute rant about him investing in crypto and bitcoin a few months ago and his bank account tanked. did he seriously think this was appealing to you at all? i mean, do you look like the type of person to enjoy that shit? you weren't drunk at all, but you wished you were so you could call a cab and get the fuck out of here. 

"so, i've been meaning to ask you," he said. "do you wanna… well… get out of here? i can take you to my house and we can... well, you know," he smirked.

jesus, his ego was so high. “you know, you’re—“ 

"no, she won't be doing that," a deep voice rumbled from behind you. wait, is that..?

"yo, dude, stop trying to cockblock here. she's clearly interested," the man laughed, but you knew he was completely pissed off behind that cheerful demeanor.

is that fucking CHOSO??

"she is not interested, as she is my girlfriend. now fuck off," your ex replied harshly. he turned to you, completely ignoring the protests of the man clearly trying to fuck you. "let's go, now," 

you were going to hesitantly accept the man’s request to fuck after like 15 minutes of meeting because you wanted to stop thinking of choso. but when choso was there, you felt so much more.. safer. you wanted choso to feel your warm body, to tie your hair intimately in the late of night. you nod, happily hopping off the stool, gripping his hand tightly. choso leads you to another part of the club, where it was slightly more quieter than the dancefloor. the music from the dancefloor still poured through every crack in the club, but it wasn't as loud now. he releases his grip on your hand quickly.

"what were you doing with that man?" choso asked, folding his arms together. his muscles really showed in that shirt. youquickly smirk.

"choso. kamo. we aren't dating anymore. do you seriously think-"

"do you seriously think i would ever get over you?" he interrupted, a flush of pink faintly appearing on his cheeks. a ghost of a smile flashed on your face, but you were still pissed at him for a potential good night of sex. though, really, did you think the bitcoin-loving man would give you a good time? nope.

"choso, you still-- you ruined a night of.. well," you whined. 

"i don't care if we're exes, i would still love you. even in the afterlife," replied the stubborn, dark-haired man. 

you glance away, trying to hide your red face. "c-choso. don't-"

choso held a rough hand on your waist and brought you closer. "you know you want to be touched again by me, just say the words and i'll do it," he tugged you even closer, whispering it in your ear. 

"i- i want you to touch me, choso," you mutter. 

"say that again, baby," choso smiled, and you already knew he had a hard-on. 

"i want you to.. to touch me, choso," you hid your face away in embarrassment, but you already felt his hand sliding over to your breasts, gingerly fondling your nipples through the fabric of your clothes.

"fuck, you don't know how long i've wanted this," he muttered. 

it felt like it was only you and him in that room. 

"choso- wait, can we go to the bathroom or something..?" 

"of course, baby," he whispered in your ear. 

you both sneak away from the loud music, from the strong smell of alcohol. you both go into the girls' bathroom and check the stalls to see if anyone is inside. while checking the last one, you hear the lock click in the girls bathroom.

"fuck choso, where'd you get the keys for the girls bathroom to?" 

choso turns, leaning on the bathroom wall. "i have friends, who have friends, who have friends. you get the gist," smirking, he walks closer to you pushing you closer near the sink. 

“choso, are you sure about this..? i— people could hear us, people might need to pee, they—“

choso shushed you, smushing his lips onto yours. you immediately melt into the kiss, grasping his head and bringing him closer. you travel across the girls bathroom, until finally bumping into the sink, yelping into his mouth. but you didn’t care. even if he was trying to stop the kiss, you shook your head. you were fine. all you needed was him. the touch of him. the smooth, silky feeling of his black hair, the look in his eyes when you agreed to something. 

“all i need is you, choso,” you utter. apparently, you were thinking out loud and hadn’t noticed that choso heard you. 

“you need.. who, baby?” he asks. he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear you again. even after breaking up, he still loved the way you spoke to him. so gentle, so lovingly, so kind. after decades of harsh tones and yelling, he finally understood what it felt like to be loved. 

“wait, i— i didn’t mean to say that out loud,” you laughed. but he didn’t care.

“say it again,” he repeated. 

“i— fine.” you cleared your throat, tugging his tie, and raising yourself to his ear: “all i need, all i fuckingwant, is you, choso,” he tensed at your words, immediately bringing one of his arms to lift you onto the bathroom sink. 

“hey—“ you looked up at him, blinking confusedly. 

“tell me that you want me, tell me you want me to touch you,” choso said between his teeth.

“choso i already—“ 

“i. don’t. care. i— missed you saying that to me. , please tell me that again,” choso looked away, his jaw clenched. you were heartbroken. your breakup did affect the both of you. 

“i want you, choso kamo, to fuck me again,” you whisper. he looked back at you, his deep purple eyes searching for a hint of a lie in a sea of truth in yours.

“what— really?” he said, smiling sheepishly. 

“really,” you giggle. 

“then take it off,” 

“take.. what off?” you reply. 

“your shirt. and your bra,” 

“wow, you really love me don’t you,” you joke, smiling. choso’s face was neutral. 

you sigh, but you enjoyed it. “alright, then,” you slowly start sliding off your shirt, arching your back. you look up at him, towering over your body. he folded his arms, blinking. 

“the shirt’s off,” you say. now it was just you in your bra and skirt. 

“would you like to do the honors, choso?” you smile, signaling to your bra. choso’s taken aback, but he agrees silently. he moves closer towards you, bringing you to hugging distance. you hear the unclip of your bra, and he’s already feeling up your breasts. 

“fuck, i’ve missed you so, so much,” he groans softly. the dark-haired man starts rimming your right breast’s nipple and pinching the left’s nipple. he’s kissing and sucking your neck, making you moan a bit too loudly.

“s—shit! where—where’d you learn how to do this?” you breathe, a sweat breaking on your forehead. choso smirks against your neck. “i wanted to try something new with you,”

“i— wait,” you cry out, just as he twists your nipples.

“no, let me be in control of you for today,” he declares. 

“f—fuck, not like this,” you whine. 

“so you want me to stop?” 

“…no,” you throw your head back, already heavily breathing.

he stops touching your left tit and starts slowly taking off your skirt and panties. he starts going on his knees and biting the underwear off.

“choso, holy shit,” you say, out of instinct. you were too busy focusing on him pinching and squishing your breast to focus on what he was doing at the moment. he stands back up and starts unbuckling his pants and unbuttoning his shirt. he lets go of your chest, and you look down on his bulge. fuck, you forgot how large it was. you look back at him, and he’s so precise, so focused with what he’s doing you don’t notice his tip is already at the entrance of you. you yelp, looking down at his dick.

“fuck, i— i forgot how big you were,” you stutter, embarrassed at the fact. 

“okay then, i’ll sink in slowly. inch after inch,” he sank himself deeper into you, and you had to grasp his shoulder. you felt as if your heart staggered, waited until he was finally in. 

“f—fuck! slower, slower, slower,” you pant. your body tenses from his dick. oh god, how long has it been? you already felt yourself stretching so much from him. you both watched, whining and grunting, as your ex slowly slid himself into you. 

once he was fully in you, he grunted. “i’m- i’m gonna start moving now, okay baby?” you nodded vigorously. anything to feel him again. 

“oh, god— yes, yes,” moaning loudly, you grip on the sink’s edges and leave groove marks on his shoulder. you felt like such a slut, whoring yourself out for choso but it felt amazing. 

“you’re taking me so good baby, fuck— so good,” your ex whimpered. you raised your legs, crossing them on his waist while he increased his pace. it all felt so fucking great, you just couldn’t get enough of choso. 

“more, more, please,” you beg, throwing your head back desperately. your knuckles grew white from gripping the sink so tightly, and you felt yourself clenching from the burden in your pussy. you felt nothing else other than pleasure, grinding on his cock and rolling your eyes back so harshly. your orgasm was so fucking close. and you knew his was close too, but you just wanted him to fuck your brains out in so many positions. 

“fuck, yes, such a good girl,” he whined, increasing his pace. “look how your pussy takes me, baby. it’s like you’re fucking made for me.” you felt the club music on the sink, the vibration thrumming through your veins. you wanted to stay like this forever. yousaw his brows furrow together in pleasure, and oh my god he looked so beautiful. you fluttered your eyes closed, allowing yourself to relax and let him fuck you. 

“fuck— more, more, more, more,” you rambled, your mouth agape out of pleasure. his rough movements against you and the sound of his balls slapping your ass was so loud, so good. you were surprised someone wasn’t banging on the door trying to piss or throw up. fuck, even to have sex just like you too were doing. even though the club music was loud, you heard choso’s heavy breathing and whimpering over it and that made you throb for him so much harder. you let go of the sink, quickly grasping onto his shoulders. suddenly, you heard him spit into his fingers and start rubbing your clit. 

“ch—choso,” you popped your eyes open. “what are you— fuck!” 

“y—yes, baby?” he grunted, focused on making you cum. 

“do that again,” you smile. “that was so fucking hot,” the ecstasy of him and the sweat breaking out on his forehead was just enough for you. choso grunts, faintly smiling. you heard the sound of his spit again and starts stroking your clit again. your legs shake roughly against his waist out of the pure emotion of sex. was this how it felt? to be fucked so well? you heard him panting, rambling about how good you felt, how tight you were. 

“f—fuck- i think- i think i’m gonna come,” choso swallows. you chest heaved, your tits bouncing from him constantly pounding into you. 

“i’m gonna come,” you scream, leaving bright-red scratch marks on his back. 

“f-fuck, i think i’m gonna come too,” he whimpered loudly. you felt yourself spitting out cum from your pussy, and he quickly pulls out, webs of thick white escaping his cock. his breathing gradually slowed, and you slowly escaped from nirvana to focus on him. his sweaty face, his beautiful sweaty body, his pink lips spreading into a beautiful, soft smile.

you panted, “i fucking love you,” 

choso pinched your nipple and replied: “i love you too, baby,” 

𐙚⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ᡣ𐭩⋆.𐙚⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ᡣ𐭩⋆.𐙚⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ᡣ𐭩⋆.𐙚⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ᡣ𐭩⋆.𐙚⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚

[samsayswhatever]

Analysis of their morning

When Saxon gets back home, he's is in FULL DENIAL MODE. He remembers doing things that no one should do, and he is losing his grip on his sanity. His only life line is that Lochlan says he doesn't remember. Now he plans to double down on his identity, starting off strong by making his protein shake.

When Victoria brings up how Piper has no thesis, and is moving to Thailand piper says "What do you care?" to Saxon. He's like, "Because you're my little sister! I don't want to see you wasting away your life."

I think he says this because he's doubling down on his identity as a big brother because of what happened with Lochlan. He's reminding himself of who he is and what he wants. And he's now hyper aware of what regret can do to someone, and he doens't want Piper to regret her life choices.

--

However, from Lochlan's POV, of the night, he chose to go to this crazy full moon party with Saxon instead of staying with Piper to help her tell this news to their parents. I think he's feeling a little bad that he left her, but still worse that she's leaving him behind too, like they always do.

He's the youngest, so he had to grow up watching his siblings slip out of his grasp. His father is either working or working out, and his mother is always on drugs or at "the club" (which I think means like the preppy golf club type place.) I think Lochlan is alone a lot, and really wishes he had stronger family connections. I think he was hoping to grow closer to one of his siblings by joining their college, but Piper is leaving now, so he thought Saxon would give him attention if he did what he wanted for a night.

--

Lochlan drank, possibly for the first time, and did drugs for the first time. He partied like there was no tomorrow to the best of his ability to gain Saxon's favor. And what happens? He wakes up alone, and naked. And his shorts are missing. And so he puts on the only shorts available - Saxon's shorts. And then he wanders the boat looking for his brother, only to find him annoyed and standoffish. Saxon insists he doesn't remember anything about last night, and isn't being his normal confident self. Saxon should be happy they partied like crazy, and tell him some overly detailed sex story about Chelsea or somehting. But he doesn't. Saxon's not giving him any positive feed back about whatever the hell happened last night. This must be disappointing at least, and at most it could freak Loch out.

Lochlan doesn't remember the threesome but I'm curious about which pieces he's putting together. Does he remember kissing Chloe? The flashback only showed him the threesome, so does he even remember kissing Saxon the first time?? Is there any evidence besides his nudity that he had sex? Like a condom wrapper or stains on the sheets? Is he aware that both he and Saxon would have to be naked at the same time to switch their shorts? Does he think he slept next to Saxon or Chloe? Or did he just blearily roll out of bed, noticing nothing, questioning nothing, grabbing whatever was at hand to get dressed.

I don't know what he thinks happened, but my best guess is that he doesn't remember kissing anyone or sleeping next to anyone. It's also quite possible he hasn't thought much about how the shorts swap happened. However, I think he has enough clues to be a little afraid to find out what happened last night.

Lochland doesn't say, "Morning, Sax, crazy party. What even happened last night? I blacked out after the fireworks." Instead he just sits down and is quite for a moment before he says, "I don't last night, at all." He doesn't ask questions even though he knows nothing. This just felt important because his character always asks questions. He asks why his mom ignored Kate even though she obviously didn't want to talk about it. The next day he asks his dad if something is wrong when his phone keeps buzzing. And Lochlan asked about Pipers virginity twice! He likes to know things. But now, after the night Saxon wanted him to lose his virginity, he just doens't ask a single question about what happened? It's just very interesting.

--

Then they didn't show what happens between the boat and arriving back at the hotel, but I can assume that Saxon didn't answer any questions. It's likely that they didn't talk at all except maybe a, "Let's go," or something simple here and there. Lochlan must be getting more and more anxious, wondering what he did wrong, and Saxon is trying to build up his emotional shields so that he doesn't have to admit to himself what he did.

Their both having a horrible morning. Saxon wants to stay away form Loch to keep his guilt at bay, and Loch is probably regretting going to the party because it seems to have just made things worse. So he goes with piper to the monastery. But then he says he will stay the night with her. This is interesting again. He don't know what happened last night, but he assumes Saxon will still be ignoring him by the time he gets back, therefore it's not worth it to try to go home. I think that if he thought a little time away form each other would reset things with Sax, then he wouldn't have offered to stay with Piper. So he must think it's really bad.

Then of course Lochlan remembers some snippets of what happened, but specifically the handjob. And he makes a face, and opens his eyes and looks around, but specifically to his left, not at Piper, but past her. I wonder if he was looking at the door, like he was trying to escape. If he's like the rest of his family who like to escape through work, exercise, drugs, etc, then he might not be comfortable continuing to meditate. He might try to leave, but he might also be "forced" to stay because he's holding out hope he can get attention from Piper. Then he might confront his thoughts, and work through them faster than Saxon.

Since Saxon was acting weird, I think Lochlan will figure out that he knows, even though he said, "We both blacked out." But Saxon doesn't think Loch remembers, as far as we know. However, he might be the type to be suspicious. He might have enough drinking experience to know that his memories could come back, and that probably is adding a lot to his stress levels.

--

Anyway, it will be so interesting to see where the show goes from here. They could easily have them remember more parts of the night, and expand their story, but they could also leave that up in the air. The show could have them stay apart for the whole next episode, and continue to freak out and process separately, or they could get thrust together. If Piper ends up hating the monastery, I could see her wanting to go to gregs party, and of course Loch will want to stick with her, but will he know Saxon is there? Will he not go because Saxon is there? Will he seek Saxon out and finally ask follow up questions? There is so much possibility.

[macrogolf12]

Mastering the Reverse Golf Grip with Macrogolf: A Game-Changer for Your Swing

Golf is a game of precision, technique, and consistency, and every golfer is always on the lookout for ways to improve their swing. One often overlooked aspect of the game is the grip, which plays a crucial role in the quality of a player’s shots. The reverse golf grip, also known as the "left-hand low" grip, is a unique technique that has gained popularity among golfers looking for more control and better consistency in their game. Macrogolf offers a variety of products to help players master the reverse golf grip, ensuring that you can play your best, whether you are a beginner or an experienced golfer.

 What is the Reverse Golf Grip?

The reverse golf grip involves positioning the hands on the club in a way that is opposite to the conventional grip. Typically, the left hand (for right-handed golfers) is placed lower on the grip, while the right hand is positioned higher. This is the reverse of the traditional grip, where the left hand is at the top of the club, and the right hand is below it. The reverse golf grip is commonly used to promote a more stable putting stroke, but it can also be applied to full swings.

 Benefits of the Reverse Golf Grip

One of the primary advantages of the reverse golf grip is the increased stability it provides during the putting stroke. By lowering the left hand, golfers reduce the tendency for the wrists to break or flick during the stroke. This leads to a more consistent and controlled putting motion. For many players, this grip style can help eliminate the "yips" – that sudden, jerky movement that can occur when a golfer becomes nervous or over-analytical during the putt.

 Why Choose Macrogolf for Mastering the Reverse Golf Grip?

Macrogolf is a trusted name in the golfing community, known for providing high-quality equipment and accessories designed to enhance your performance. When it comes to adopting the reverse golf grip, Macrogolf offers a wide range of products that can help you make the most of this grip style. Their grips are specifically designed to offer comfort, stability, and better control for golfers of all skill levels.

Whether you're new to the reverse grip or looking to improve your existing technique, Macrogolf provides grips that promote a secure and comfortable hold, which is crucial when using this unique style. Their grips are made from durable, high-performance materials that ensure long-lasting comfort and support, even during long rounds on the course. With Macrogolf’s innovative designs, you can take full advantage of the reverse grip technique and enhance your golfing experience.

 Conclusion

Adopting the reverse golf grip could be the key to improving your swing and putting consistency. Macrogolf offers the tools and resources you need to master this unique grip, providing golfers with the stability, control, and comfort required for better performance on the course. Whether you're struggling with your putting stroke or looking for more control over your full swing, the reverse golf grip might just be the game-changer you need.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

so while sitting at the golf range, i saw a man walk by with his dog—a dilf type of man—and it got me thinking…

ari levinson x fem reader

idk the word count bc i wrote it on here but it’s not too long, i promise! **18+ ONLY** for implied size kink and mentions of praise kink and illusions to filthy thoughts ok thank ♡

you huff and stomp your foot after swinging and missing the ball, yet again. why is golf so hard? and why is the ball so tiny? it hardly seems fair to have a club that long and such a small target to hit.

you try to focus and remember what little you learned before coming to the range, but it’s sweltering out and you’re frustrated, so all you want to do is throw your club as far as possible. at least then you’d get something on the green.

someone clears their throat from behind you.

“what?” you snap as you spin on your heel, the glare you had ready to aim at the person smoothing out quickly once you see them.

it’s a man, tall and broad and tanned and very shirtless, torso glistening with sweat amidst the hair on his chest. his shaggy hair is tied back messily and his cheeks are ruddy beneath his beard from the heat.

“hi,” the man greets with a grin that has your tummy fluttering. “i was walking by,” he continues, waving at the sidewalk several yards away (which is another thing—what’s with golf courses being in the middle of neighborhoods?!) and you feel slight shame at having been caught throwing a fit. “saw you were having some trouble and thought maybe i could offer my help.”

you bite your lip. “that’s kind of embarrassing,” you mumble.

he shrugs. “everyone has to start somewhere.”

and that’s… actually very true and also terribly kind of him to say, so you agree to let him give you some pointers. he tries by just telling you how to fix your stance and your grip, all from a respectable distance, even going as far as showing you by mimicking it and how to follow through on your swings. but after you still keep missing the ball entirely or only hitting it a few feet and veering sharply to the right, he clicks his tongue, pursing his lips in thought.

“would you be okay if i show you in a more, uh, hands on way?” he asks.

you simply shake your head in response, because if you opened your mouth right now you’d probably start begging, and not just for golfing tips.

he approaches calmly, stepping up behind you. his body heat in proximity to yours doesn’t help with the summer sun beating down on both of you, but you can’t find it in you to really complain, especially as you hear him take a breath before he finally wraps his toned arms around you.

“left hand here,” he instructs, voice low in your ear, “right hand below it, yes, there you go. keep this arm straight, okay? like this.”

he does a few fake swings with you, his hands wrapped around yours. it’s damn near impossible to pay attention, but you’re really trying your best. mostly.

“okay, now, keep your eyes on the ball when you swing. don’t look out to where you want it go, just keep looking down at the ball. alright?”

you turn your head, looking up and meeting his eyes and your breath hitches when you exhale. he’s so big, easily dwarfing you with how close he is to you, the smell of his sweat hitting your nose and, instead of finding it gross, you find that it has you wanting to clench your thighs together.

“eyes on the ball,” he repeats, sounding a lot more gruff than before. it’s hard, but you tear your gaze away and do as he says. “good. feet shoulder width apart. that’s perfect.”

you fight a shiver and bite your lip again. this is not the time or place for your praise kink to kick in.

“i’m gonna let go and step back, then you can swing. okay?”

you nod, holding your stance and waiting for the all-clear, and when you get it you take a deep breath and slowly let it out, following what he’s told you and swinging… and you hit it straight down the green! it doesn’t go too far, but it’s the furthest you’ve hit a ball yet, and you let out a shocked, happy laugh.

“oh my god, i did it!” you giggle, bouncing on your toes and spinning to face him, catching his stare snapping up from your ass to your face. you’re suddenly extremely happy you chose some of your tightest athletic shorts.

“that was great,” he praises with a smile.

you let out another giggle, this one a bit higher in pitch from your nerves. “thanks for your help. i really appreciate it.”

“it’s no problem at all, i’m happy it paid off.”

“is there any way i could repay you?” you blurt, not wanting to miss the chance at extending your time with him, also not wanting to come across as too eager and missing by a mile.

he hums teasingly, pretending to think about it, then smirks. “how about we start with lunch?” he suggests, eyes roving down your body and back up. “and then i can give you another tip.”

he winks and you burst into even more giggles at the terrible joke, but you can’t even be mad about it. he looks quite pleased with himself at the sound of your laughter.

(and then, later, he looks smug as fuck at the sounds of your absolute ruin by him.)

…OKAY BYE😬😇����😂♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

[thegratefulgolfer]

The Fundamentals Of The Golf Grip

The only part of the body that makes contact with the golf club is our hands. Through the grip, we are able to control the direction, distance, and accuracy of the clubface during contact. It is probably the single most important skill any golfer can learn in order to excel at golf. Personally, I use the interlocking grip, but that is not the only option open to players. For an expert explanation…

[gyllenhaalstories]

OH, THE MISTLETOE — JERRY BRINSON 🎄

summary: you have been invited to your friend's work party for christmas and she played santa's little helper to match you with her coworker.

warnings: i tried to keep the story accurate to its setting in the 1960s but i'm sure there are anachronisms, mention of divorce, alcohol & food, mostly fluff, smut, (pussy eating & fingering). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 4070

gifs credits: @/stephendorff (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: in the original script, jerry works at, and i quote, 'a mid-range sporting good store' so i kept this detail rather than what was shown in the movie, it suits my man better. this is what my brain chose to write after months of not even forming a coherent sentence... so ambitious and exhausting. i lost count of how many things i googled to make sure they existed in 1960s (and how many photos of jello salads i looked at). i suggest listening to vintage oldies to enjoy this fic to the fullest. ❤️💚 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"Take those cookies to the table, will you? I'll drop our coats off at the back of the store. I cleaned it well before the end of my shift yesterday, so don't worry about dust and grime. I'm not quite sure what type of dust golf clubs can leave behind anyway..." Your friend spoke, mostly to herself, as she held on to the platter of baked goods while you removed your winter coat.

After a swift exchange, you watched her head towards the back of the sporting good store while you followed the path of a few other people who brought food for the potluck.

Jerry emerged from the back store where he, too, had put away his winter clothes. He stopped by the mirrors to neatly fix his hair. He arranged his clothes too, he did not look all that bad for a man who had spent a solid hour shovelling snow off the side walk before the guests arrived.

In order to convince you to attend the Christmas party with her, your friend made you a promise. She swore she would stay with you until she found someone else you would get along with, forbidding you from looking sad and lonely all by yourself in a corner of the store until she would be ready to leave. She could be quite convincing, your friend.

But she also lived with her head up in the clouds, you doubted you would find friendship in a group of employees and their partners who decided to hang out together one last time before the Holiday break.

Jerry quickly greeted his colleague, this bubbly young lady who always had a topic to babble about. His poor attempt at small talk quickly took a turn when he felt dragged by the arm in the opposite direction of where he was headed. This colleague of his briefly explained that she had someone he absolutely needed to meet.

"This right here is none other than Jerry Brinson. He's the best vendor we've ever had at the store. But I already told you that, haven't I?"

Your eyes widened in surprise when your friend came back with a mysterious man on her arm. You fought a giggle when you noticed that this same man seized the first opportunity he saw to withdraw himself from the forced embrace. You stretched out your hand to shake his. Jerry's grip was firm, it conveyed a level of confidence that did not match the hesitant smile on his face.

"I wouldn't say that, you're good too." Jerry replied with a light shrug.

"Nonsense." Your friend brushed off his not-so heartfelt praise before she shamelessly continued her sales pitch. "Jerry could sell snow boots to a polar bear if one ever rang the bell on the counter... Oh! Speaking of which, did you read it in the papers?" Jerry and you shook your heads simultaneously. "Apparently they've spotted one of those up north, near the big river."

Again, Jerry and you seemed connected. You both shot her an incredulous look. "I don't think there are polar bears in Montana."

Jerry timidly nodded his head in agreement. If there were bears around, surely they were not white. And surely they would not walk in a random store right in the middle of Great Falls.

Your friend sighed at your ungratefulness. She tried so hard to set you up with good company and there you were, ruining her attempts. She gave you an obvious glance of encouragement, which you met with an annoyed eye roll. Right when you thought things could not get more awkward, your friend excused herself when she spotted her fiancé entering the already crowded store.

You stood alone with Jerry. The conversation immediately fell flat. You both exchanged shy and avoidant looks while everybody else mingled cheerfully. Jerry took a moment to study you, from head to toe. You would have caught his eye, even without the intervention of the self-proclaimed cupid's assistant he called his coworker. The manager's daughter, in fact. After a while, he broke the heavy silence. "I don't know who I'm waitin' to impress here." Jerry chuckled, visibly no less uncomfortable than when your friend carried the entire discussion.

"For what it's worth, there's no need to impress her. You can't out talk a chatterbox." You glanced over your shoulder, the social butterfly you called your friend now paraded her partner left and right. You turned your attention back to the man before you.

"Wasn't talking about her." Jerry replied bluntly. "But it's good to know she's always like that. Talking is great, it gets you to connect with the client. It makes it easier to sell what they want rather than what they need, but she..." He marked a pause while he racked his brain in the search of polite terms. "She's got a lot of enthusiasm."

"Spoken like a true salesman."

"What can I say? You got the employee of the month for the twenty-something time in a row standing right in front of ya."

You arched a playful brow. "Only twenty times?"

"Oh, yeah, that's when the boss started this gimmick."

Your genuine laugh made his shoulders relax. You could tell he was not one to brag, he made that clear when he did not allow your friend to stroke his ego by listing out all of his exploits.

"Wanna grab a bite?" He suggested when he noticed that several other guests already lined up by the tables.

You happily agreed. You waited in the queue, filled your plate with a few bites of the most appetizing dishes then you walked back to your initial spot. You looked over your shoulder, expecting to see Jerry following you, but he was taking his sweet time. When he finally walked back, he balanced a precarious plate of food in one hand and a beer in the other all the while he chewed on something. He looked like a chipmunk with full cheeks, you laughed at the imagery.

"You know... If I gotta sell one thing tonight, it's those cookies." He pointed at the folding tables by the wall.

On the red table cloth, no dish was left untouched. Not even the several variations of Jell-O salads that left you wondering how many of those concoctions were too many for one single party. You distinguished a familiar serving platter that looked rather empty.

"Have you tried the cookies? You gotta try them." Jerry set his beer and his plate down on the nearest surface he could find, which turned out to be a pile of shoe boxes. He reached a hand behind your back, with the intention to guide you to the array of miscellaneous meals that composed the potluck. But he quickly withdrew himself. "Wait."

You nodded. This time, you watched him make his way through the crowd as if he was playing hockey on ice. He glided expertly and he avoided the attempts at pointless chitchat from friends and colleagues.

Jerry returned with a pyramid of cookies on a paper napkin. "I could've eaten the whole platter, they're delicious."

"I know." You spoke before Jerry even had time to hand you the bigger half of the cookie he just broke in two. He looked up from the napkin, his head slightly tilted. "I baked them."

"You did?" He watched you take a bite, you did not eat with as much appetite as he did. He assumed you were already aware of your delicious talent. "Gotta have to teach me." For a second, you noticed the way his gaze appeared vacant. His mind drifted to the thought of his ex-wife, Jeannette, when she revealed she had been teaching that old Miller guy how to swim. The mere comparison between this party he shared with a lovely stranger and what happened before his divorce left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You frowned, the desire to inquire about this sudden change in his expression tickled your mind but you decided to stay quiet.

Jerry put on a small grin, picking up where he left off. "I'd like the recipe, if you don't mind sharing it. I'm sure my son would love it a lot more than the cake I baked for his birthday last year. Christ, that was a disaster." To put it briefly, he was glad he knew how to extinguish a fire.

You both chuckled, Jerry went on to explain how he swapped the sugar and salt, amongst other mistakes. You listened intently to more of his stories about his son. He loved his child dearly, that you could tell. You could also tell that your friend had lied to you. While boasting about her handsome colleague, she made a point in explaining how he seemed like a quiet man unless a conversation about sports sparked up. You witnessed the complete opposite.

Eventually, the two of you decided to sit down on one of the benches by the shoe racks. The anecdotes started to blend together, to the point that even Jerry realized that he was becoming bothersome. "You still sure I can't outdo your friend? 'Cause it feels like I've been talking your ears off."

You grabbed the last cookie he had brought out to share together. You nodded at Jerry when he insisted that you needed to let him know if he got you bored out of your mind with his stories about his wild life. In the distance, you caught a glimpse of your friend's approving smile that beamed brighter than the Christmas lights hung around the store for this special occasion.

*~*~*

"There you are."

You turned around to look at Jerry who leaned against the door frame. Above his head, you noticed that somebody had hung a garland of mistletoe.

"Thought you had sneaked out on me." Jerry's chin pointed in direction of the pile of coats. He then apologized for getting distracted by a conversation with his boss. "Wasn't far from the truth, huh?"

You shook your head and finally found your coat, you put it on. "It's getting late, better make it home before I have to walk in two feet of snow." Jerry echoed your laughter.

He nodded understandingly when you explained that your friend promised you a ride home, but in the end she insisted on staying at the party with her fiancé. Jerry expected a question that never came. "I'll drive you."

You quickly declined his offer. You did not live too far away, you did not want to bother him. Excuses.

"A pretty dress like this wasn't made for a hike in the snow." More excuses.

You tilted your head and, with a deep sigh, you accepted.

"Stubborn." You heard him whisper the word when you brushed shoulders as Jerry reached through the pile to dig up his coat. His keys fell from the pocket, so he bent down to pick them up from the floor. "Those shoes weren't made for walking outside either, darlin'."

You conceded, you would not make it the whole way back home in such an outfit.

"May I interest you in a brand new item we received? It just got invented by a smart fella from Maine. They're called ski boots. They're boots... For skiing."

"Revolutionary." You faked a dramatic gasp, successfully pulling another chuckle out of Jerry. "I'll have to visit the store again, then."

"I work five days a week, miss. I'll be happy to assist." With a wink, he offered you his arm to hold.

You glanced up at the garland of mistletoe one last time. Jerry put on his coat without bothering to zip it closed and he led the way to the exit. When the door shut behind the two of you, the infernal chattering noise finally quieted down. Jerry and you exchanged a knowing look with a mutual appreciation to for the newfound tranquility outside of the party.

*~*~*

Jerry parked in front of your apartment building. He hurried to the passenger door that he held open for you. He expected an invitation that did come this time.

You stood by the car, locking eyes with Jerry for a moment. "A handsome face like yours wasn't made to freeze out in the cold now, was it?" You smiled as you began to walk towards the door of your apartment.

The sound of Jerry's footsteps in the snow confirmed he followed you closely. You exchanged another longing look while you unlocked the front door of your apartment. You let him walk in first, he quickly untied his shoes and he placed them besides yours on the entrance mat. He helped you with your coat that he hung according to your instructions.

You noticed that Jerry was chuckling. "What is it?" You asked with a confused frown.

"It's real quiet in here." He admitted and you wholeheartedly agreed.

You brushed shoulders again as you made your way to the radio in your living room. You tuned in to your favourite radio station. It played Christmas music, the perfect ambience to calmly extend the party that started at the store. "Better?"

"Better indeed, darlin'." Jerry flashed you a smile that made you feel warm all over. Silence crept in the room, except this time it was much more comfortable than when you first met at the beginning of the party. Still, Jerry insisted on breaking it. "Smells really good in here." He could discern the scent of freshly baked goods, he assumed it was the remnants of the cookies, but there was something else to it.

"I made some mulled wine earlier, I haven't cleaned the pot yet. It's such a hassle." You shrugged before your eyes widened in surprise at your own realization. "There's some left, I could warm it up for us. How does that sound?"

Jerry's enthusiastic nod of approval brought the two of you in your small kitchen. He tried to stay out of your way, using your fridge as an arm rest while he watched you grab a ladle and two mismatched mugs.

You stirred the spiced wine slowly, waiting for it to come to temperature while Jerry entertained you with more anecdotes.

Until he switched it up with questions that encouraged you to tell your own stories too. He sipped the wine from the mug you handed him and he listened intently to every detail about your life that you shared.

You set your beverage down to finally tackle the dishes. Before your hands met with the water running from the faucet, you were gently nudged away.

"Let me help." Jerry left you no time or space to be stubborn or to turn him down, he put on the pair of rubber gloves he saw on the counter. You both laughed at the ridiculous sight while he scrubbed the pot clean.

You poured more dish soap so he could scrape off the spices that had gotten stuck. Soon enough, Jerry was done and he removed the gloves before setting the pot on top of the fridge. You placed your hand on his arm, your thumb gently caressed the soft material of his blue polo shirt. "You know you didn't have to do all that." Keeping you company, driving you home, now helping you with these trivial tasks... "I appreciate it."

He pressed his lips together, his head dipped in acknowledgement of your sentiment. Jerry's eyes flicked from yours down to your lips and back up again. "I don't usually do that."

"What, wash dishes?" You returned with a chuckle.

"No, that I do a lot of." He admitted. All these years of being a father and yet he could not comprehend how many dirty dishes one child could leave behind. He blinked away the thoughts of a sink full of plates and glasses. "I meant... Kiss." He leaned closer to you. "I don't kiss a lady on the first date."

You felt heat rising to your cheeks, your own gaze fell to his mouth. "Oh, that's too bad." His defined cupid's bow faded when he smiled at you.

"I could make an exception, y'know."

You hummed in response, locking eyes with him for a moment. You had only just met, yet it felt like you truly knew Jerry with all the talking you both did this evening. Ultimately, your friend's plan to set you up with her handsome colleague had worked. You would figure out a way to let her know at another time. You had much more pressing plans...

Jerry pressed his lips on yours. His eyes closed, his heart skipped a beat.

The kiss was tender, but it quickly lost its hesitation when you erased the remaining distance between the two of you.

He held your face in his hands to kiss you a second time.

The two of you slowly deepened the kiss, with Jerry's head tilting to the side to let your tongues dance together.

His hands fell to your shoulders and then they caressed down your body, following your curves. He guided your hands to rest on the small of his back before he placed his own on your hips.

Jerry gently pressed you against the counter. His forehead met yours while he tried to catch his breath.

Your mouth found his again and again, until he left a trail of kisses from your lips to your jawline and all the way down to your neck.

Jerry sprinkled open-mouthed kisses on your skin, as he inhaled the soft scent of your perfume. He pulled away to lock eyes with yours, searching for an ounce of hesitation or perhaps a drop of regret for the passion growing speedily between the two of you.

All he found in your beautiful eyes was a reflection of desire that shined in his own gaze. You leaned your head in his hand while he held your face again. You nodded softly.

He reached for your hand that he brought to his lips for a kiss. You watched his grin grow on his face as he leaned down. All the way down until his knees met the floor. He let out a huff of air. "I'm not as young and fresh as I used to be."

You rolled your eyes and laughed at his joke, as if he was a frail old man.

He popped the collar button of his polo open and he looked at you. The dimmed light of the kitchen made his eyes glimmer. His fingertips caressed up your legs, from your ankles to your knees. Jerry's eyebrow arched on his forehead, creating a wrinkle you so badly wanted to kiss.

You tilted your head, confused by his unspoken request.

He answered all of your questions when he started kissing his way up the inside of your thighs. His hands splayed on your skin, gently grabbing at the supple flesh.

"Wait," you caused Jerry to pull back in a quick motion. "Let me just..." You brushed all of his sudden worries away when you tried to pull your tights down. You struggled awkwardly. "Sorry."

He chuckled with you and gently pushed your hands out of the way. "Let me do it." Jerry insisted. He concluded the struggle was not worth the wait. "Do you have more than one pair?"

"Yeah, why?" You replied, stumped by his question. Then, you heard the noise of fabric ripping and your eyes widened.

"That's why." Jerry answered bluntly, tickling the now exposed skin of your thighs with his warm breath. He kissed his way to your covered core, he grunted at the sight of your red and lacy underwear. He gave you an apologetic glance before he ripped the delicate material too.

You parted your legs to give him more space.

"It feels like the mistletoe hung up at the party was a good omen, doesn't it?" He murmured. He pressed the lightest and softest kisses possible on your core while you giggled at his words. "May I?" He asked for permission another time.

"Yes please." Chills ran through you when he kept going, kissing you more and more hungrily. If what he said was true, that he did not kiss on the first date, it made this moment all the more special.

Jerry explored you gently with kisses and licks that sufficed to get you worked up.

You bucked your hips against his face, chasing more. You mewled in bliss whenever his tongue or his nose would bump against your clit.

Jerry understood that you craved more than the sweet attention he gave you, and he happily obliged. There was something about you, about the evening you unexpectedly spent together, that made his heart skip a beat. The discussions and the longing stares you shared would have made it nearly impossible to walk out of your apartment without getting a taste of you.

You gripped on the edge of the counter with your left hand, determined to stay upright although your knees were turning into jelly. Your other hand found his head and, after ruffling his hair a bit, you guided him.

Jerry moaned against you, the vibrations reverberated through your entire body. He loved the way you showed him how to make you feel good. He lapped at your essence, he tried to commit to memory the ways you liked to be pleased.

You pulled on his hair a bit, without caring much about the way your skirt swallowed him whole. You looked down to watch his legs shift as he tried to find a more stable position.

His tongue worked through your folds, circled your clit, dipped at your entrance. Jerry's hands found your thighs again so he could pull on the skin to allow him to devour you like a starved man. It had been so long, too long since he had done something of the sort. He could only wish you two would meet again. In the meantime, Jerry was desperate to make you tip over the edge.

You let out a song of moans, breathlessly chanting his name. You felt the muscles of your lower stomach tighten as the pleasure built up. You were so close...

Jerry replaced his tongue with his thumb, so he could catch his breath. The featherlight strokes on your clit made you shiver. Jerry dove back under your dress, flattening his tongue to lick over your folds and his finger too.

You let your head fall back when Jerry made you come on his tongue. Jerry's moans and yours blended into a beautiful symphony as he continued until your legs were shaking like a leaf.

He finished with a kiss on your clit, so you could feel his lips curling into a proud smile.

Both of your hands relaxed when the tidal waves of your orgasm became calm again. Rather than gripping on his hair, you ran your fingers through them. "Come here..." You said, the tone of your voice sounded shaky. Your chest heaved with each breath you took.

Jerry's head emerged from under your skirt, you chuckled at the sight. His hair looked a mess, totally dishevelled. The hair pommade he used to comb his hair over evidently could not sustain such a blissful moment.

A frown flashed on his forehead, his glistening lips formed a small pout. "What? Is everything alright?" He sounded a tad bit concerned, afraid that he did something wrong. Although, judging by the way your body reacted to him and by the moans you sung at his ear... Jerry could tell that that everything was indeed alright.

You nodded slowly while you caught your breath. "More than alright." You reached a hand to smooth his hair. Your hand caressed along his cheek until your fingertip tilted his chin up.

Jerry's gaze met yours, his hands stroked up and down your legs. You barely had time to catch a glimpse of his dimples that his head disappeared under your dress again. He left a trail of kisses on the inside of your thighs that grew gentler and gentler as he approached your core again.

"You're still trying to impress me?" You asked, before a small gasp escaped you as his mouth met your more sensitive place.

Rather than answering with words, Jerry's laughter resonated through you like the jolly music that still played on the radio. He lapped at your essence once more, inviting you to impress him with how much you could take.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Ry’s Blurb of the Week!

Purpose: The purpose of these mini one-shots is to gauge audience reactions to different pairings and dynamics. By exploring various relationships in short, self-contained stories, I can assess which characters and connections resonate most with readers before developing them further in longer works. I can also get little ideas out of my mind. Also I can practice on my fluffs 😂

Note: Blurbs are exclusive to my tumblr as my long form fics are exclusive to my Ao3 account. 🩷

Solo/Rhea (Friendly Competition)

Rhea wasn’t the type to admit when she was in over her head, but as she stood at the tee in Topgolf, gripping a club like it was a foreign object, she was starting to regret talking all that trash.

Across from her, Solo leaned against the railing, arms crossed, watching her with that unreadable expression of his. Calm. Unbothered. A silent wall of confidence that made her itch to knock him down a peg.

“C’mon, Josephhhhh,” Rhea taunted, using his real name on purpose, just to get a rise out of him. “You scared I might embarrass you in front of all these people?”

Solo exhaled a short breath—his version of a laugh. “Nah. Just waiting for you to actually hit the ball.”

Rhea narrowed her eyes at him before setting her stance again. She swung—wildly. The club barely clipped the ball, sending it skidding a few feet across the turf instead of soaring into one of the targets like she’d intended.

Solo’s low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “You done?”

Rhea gritted her teeth, adjusting her grip. “Nah. That was just a warm-up.”

Solo didn’t respond, just nodded at the screen tracking their scores. He hadn’t even taken a shot yet, but somehow, she already felt like she was losing.

By the time she finally managed to hit a halfway decent shot, Solo had stepped up to take his turn. No stance adjustments. No hesitation. Just a smooth, effortless swing that sent the ball flying into the farthest target.

The scoreboard updated instantly. A perfect shot.

Rhea scoffed. “Alright, so you’ve done this before.”

Solo smirked. “Maybe.”

She groaned. “I hate you.”

“Not my fault you suck at golf.”

Their competitive streak took over from there. Rhea refused to let him win without a fight, so she tried every trick she could think of—adjusting her grip, watching tutorials on her phone when Solo wasn’t looking, even taking pointers from the overly friendly employee who kept checking in on them.

None of it mattered. Solo was in a league of his own, landing shot after shot with precision that made her want to throw her club into the netting.

By the last round, she was one point away from losing their bet. If she won, Solo would have to wear her entrance gear—spiked leather jacket and all—for a full week. If she lost, she’d have to post a video publicly declaring him the better athlete.

No way in hell was she letting that happen.

With a deep breath, she took her final shot. The ball sailed further than any of her others, landing right in the target she needed. She threw her arms up in victory, turning to Solo with a smug grin.

“Boom! Top that, Sikoa.”

Solo didn’t even flinch. He stepped up, took his shot without a word, and watched as the ball landed in the exact same target—but in the center, scoring just enough to push him over her.

Rhea’s jaw dropped. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Solo finally smiled, shaking his head as he turned to her. “Better luck next time, champ.”

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “I’m never gonna live this down.”

“Nah,” Solo agreed. “And I’m picking bowling next time.”

She’d lost, but at least she had another shot at revenge.

Rhea followed Solo toward the exit, still grumbling about her loss. He didn’t say much—he never did—but the smirk tugging at his lips was enough to drive her up the damn wall.

“You know,” she started, catching up to him, “if we’re talking real sports, I’d wipe the floor with you.”

Solo didn’t even look at her. “That so?”

“Yeah,” she huffed. “Put me in the ring with you, see what happens.”

He let out a short breath, something like amusement, but didn’t argue. Instead, he grabbed her by the wrist just before they reached the parking lot, tugging her to a stop.

“You mad?” he asked, low and teasing.

Rhea scoffed. “I don’t get mad.”

Solo raised a brow. “You were about to throw your club off the balcony.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was considering it. There’s a difference.”

For a moment, they just stood there, her pulse still thrumming from the rush of competition. Solo, calm as ever, held her gaze with that quiet intensity of his. He wasn’t one for trash talk, but he didn’t have to be. He knew he’d won, and he was letting her sit with that.

She stepped closer, tilting her head. “You really think you’re better than me?”

Solo didn’t back up, didn’t react beyond a small twitch at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t think,” he said simply. “I know.”

Rhea hated how that sent a thrill down her spine. Maybe it was the competition, maybe it was just him—the way he was so effortlessly composed when she was nothing but fire and sharp edges.

“Mm,” she hummed, considering him for a second longer.

Then, before she could overthink it, she grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him down into a kiss.

It wasn’t soft—not with her. It was playful, teasing, the way she was when she wanted something. Solo didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, just let her kiss him like she had a point to prove.

When she finally leaned back, she grinned. “There. I win.”

Solo blinked once, slow and unreadable. Then he leaned down, barely a breath away from her lips.

“Not yet,” he murmured.

And then he kissed her.

Slower this time, deliberate, like he was proving his own point. It sent a rush through her stomach, stealing whatever snarky comeback she had loaded up. When he pulled back, there was that damn smirk again.

“Now I win,” he said.

Rhea stared at him for half a second before laughing, shaking her head. “You’re such an asshole.”

“You still down for bowling?”

She shoved his shoulder, but her grin hadn’t faded. “I’m taking you down next time.”

Solo just shrugged, already heading for the car. “We’ll see.”

She narrowed her eyes but followed, already plotting her next move. Maybe she’d let him win again—just to see what else she could get out of him.

[misshoneyimhome]

William silently cursed as he saw you. "She has a great ass, but she got an awful swing." With a chuckle from his friend. Willam's head turned to give him a furious look. With a defensive gesture, his friend raised his hands and backed away. "Hey man, relax. I'm just complimenting her". Willy is the type to admire his girl and try to "teach" her some golfing lessons.

😍😍😍 I swear my cooch skipped a beat just by the mere thought of this 🙈 Almost got jealous of my own fic... not cause it was so well written, but just by imagining the scenario 🤍

I mean, Willy teaching you to golf, AND possesive!boyfriend Willy? Sign me up 🥴 I hope you enjoy it 🤍

Word count; 1.7K

➼｡ﾟ

Swing It Like It’s Hot | William Nylander ✿☀︎

The Swedish summer sun cast a golden hue over the lush greenery of the golf course as William guided you to the first tee. It was the off-season, a break from the demands of professional hockey, and he had promised to give you a golf lesson. Or perhaps more suggested for you to join, since he really wanted to play with his friends. 

It wasn’t a secret that you weren’t a great golfer. Well, in fact you’d never really tried in before, so when William said that you were coming along you naturally demanded that he’d teach you. And he happily obliged.

Standing in front of him, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as you held the club tightly. Meanwhile Pablo and Banksy, bounded ahead with wagging tails, eagerly exploring, accompanied by William's best friend Rasmus Sandin, one of his best friends, and brother Alex Nylander, as well as his new flirt.

Taking in the scene, the laughter and camaraderie were infectious, and despite your nerves, you couldn't help but smile as you prepared for your first swing.

With a patient smile, William walked you through the basics, demonstrating the proper stance and grip. His body was firmly pressed against yours as his arms wrapped around your smaller figure guided the movement, before encouraging you to give it a try. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you prepared to strike the ball. 

It was needless to say; you didn’t even know where the ball landed. Your swing wasn’t great, and you knew it.

As you stood at the next tee, determined to make a better shot, William's encouraging presence bolstered your resolve. His arm on your waist was both comforting and motivating, reminding you that all you needed was some practice at this sport.

"It's alright, älskling," William's calm voice reached your ears, his Swedish endearment melting away some of the frustration that had built up inside you. "You're doing fine. Just relax and enjoy it."

His words were soothing to your frazzled nerves, and you couldn't help but offer a grateful smile in return. You knew you had nothing to prove as it was all fun and games, yet you also wanted to show your boyfriend that you made an effort to join him in his interests. And despite the challenges, finding comfort in the simple joy of being with him amidst the stunning Swedish countryside lifted your spirits. You then focused intensely on recalling William's guidance, determined to make this attempt a success.

Observing you from a small distance, William and Rasmus provided silent encouragement as you readied yourself for another swing. Despite any earlier frustration, there was a tenderness in William's gaze as he watched you, silently acknowledging your effort.

Taking a deep breath, you blocked out all distractions, focusing solely on the ball, and with determination pulsing through you, you swung the club with all you might.

The result was a little bit better this time, however what caught William off guard, was when Rasmus’ friend suddenly made a comment. "She has a great ass, but she got an awful swing," he remarked with a playful smirk in their native language.

Immediately, William's head snapped towards him, his blue eyes narrowing with a mix of irritation and protectiveness. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck tensing as he gave his friend a stern glare. "Watch it," he warned, his voice low and tinged with annoyance.

Sensing the tension, the mare raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture, stepping back. "Hey man, relax. I'm just complimenting her," he said defensively, trying to defuse the situation.

Though William's glare softened a bit, the tension hung heavy in the air. He knew his friend meant no harm, but his protective instincts flared at any perceived slight toward you. With a sigh, he turned back to you, silently resolving to help you with your swing while also making a mental note to speak to Rasmus later.

And with the playful comment, William remained steadfast in his commitment to coach you through the game. Throughout the day, he consciously tried to push aside Rasmus's remark and focused solely on helping you enhance your golfing abilities. However, despite his initial determination to stay composed, there was a noticeable change in his demeanour.

His touches became more frequent, his guidance more intimate, as he enveloped you in his arms each time you prepared to swing. With each embrace, you could feel the warmth of his body against yours, his closeness serving as both solace and encouragement.

“It’s okay, Willy. I’ve got this,” you chucked, indicating that you were feeling more confident about your game. But William didn’t let you wander too much in your own. Instead, he stayed close, upscaling his flirting behaviour a little with every move.

“I know baby, but you just look so good golfing… can’t take my hands off you,” he chuckled with a mischievous grin by the next tee, placing a kiss just behind your ear before gently biting your earlobe. 

“Willy… there are other people here,” you tried to inform him with a soft sigh, yet you couldn’t deny that it was a little fun to have your boyfriend’s hands on you. He always knew how to make you feel good, and when his lips gently placed a few more kisses on your neck before withdrawing, you had to shake your head to get back to reality. 

Then as you continued your way, amidst playful banter and shared laughter, William teased you about your progress, his jests accompanied by whispered promises of what awaited you later if you managed to refine your swing.

"You're doing so great, baby," he murmured against your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Just wait until we get back home, and you’ll get your prize."

His words stirred a rush of excitement within you, igniting a fierce desire simmering just beneath the surface. Beyond the playful banter, his gaze held an undeniable intensity, a hunger that spoke volumes of his longing for you.

“Maybe… I’ll show you how well I can handle your club,” you teasingly remarked in return with a dash of confidence, flashing a smirk and a wink at your boyfriend before strutting to pick up your next ball. 

William had to adjust his junk as he filled the blood rush through his body by your behaviour and the thoughts of the two of you alone later.

As the day drew to a close and the sun dipped below the horizon, you all concluded the game; William taking the lead followed closely by Sandin. Surprisingly, you managed to outscore Alex by two points, with Rasmus's friend trailing behind, and finally Alex's current girlfriend finishing last.

It had been a day filled with nothing but laughter and enjoyment. However, amidst the fun, you couldn't help but notice William's possessiveness. While you understood your boyfriend's inclination to be protective, his behaviour seemed a bit excessive, especially considering you were simply among friends, including Alex, who was technically family but also William's best friend.

And as you drove along the highway towards Stockholm, your attention turned to William, whose gaze remained fixed on the road ahead.

"Willy, take it easy, there's no need to speed," you tried to lighten the mood with a soft chuckle, but he didn't respond to your comment, his focus solely on the road. "Babe, what's the rush?"

William briefly turned his glare towards you, his mind seemingly elsewhere, before easing off the accelerator slightly. "Oh... nothing," he replied tersely, but you knew him too well to leave it at that and decided to probe further.

"We both know that's not true..." you raised an eyebrow, knowing he could sense your tone and see your expression out of the corner of his eye. "Come on, you didn't even want to join the others for dinner."

"Well, no," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "I just want to get home."

"I understand that, but I'm struggling to understand why... we had such a great day, didn't we?" You attempted to offer him a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah... I mean, yes, absolutely... it's just," William murmured softly, searching for the right words to express his thoughts.

"Are you upset because I didn't do well?" you asked gently, prompting William to glance at you with a surprised expression.

"What? No, not at all. Baby, you did amazing! I'm seriously impressed."

"Then what's bothering you? Willy, I can't help if you don't tell me what's going on..." Frustration started to bubble up within you as your patience wore thin.

And finally releasing a deep sigh, William mustered the courage to speak. "Rasmus's friend made a comment about you, and it got under my skin."

"Oh..." You felt a bit puzzled. Didn’t William's friends like you? Were you just seen as the annoying girlfriend tagging along? The thought crossed your mind. "Well, I'm sorry if I was intruding on your guy time..." you apologised softly.

"What? No, babe, that's not what I meant!" William quickly clarified, not wanting you to think for a moment that you were unwelcome. After all, he was the one who invited you along. "No, what I meant was that he made a comment about your ass... and I don't want him to look anywhere near your ass! Especially not right in front of me!"

As you listened to William, you struggled to form a coherent response. Was he genuinely jealous over some comment about your ass?

As William eased off the highway, his demeanour gradually relaxed. His gaze briefly met yours while waiting for the traffic lights to change.

"What?" he asked, surprised by your calm expression, expecting you to be offended by the sexual remark.

"Are you serious?" you chuckled softly. "Willy, did you really get jealous because Rasmus's friend complimented my ass? Because, of course, I have a nice ass... we both know that," you said, trying to flash a confident smirk. "Besides, it's an ass you get to enjoy, one that he doesn't, and one you'll get to see in all its glory when you give me my prize, as promised."

William couldn't help but feel a twinge of arousal at your words. Why was he even so worked up over this? You were his, and he knew it. Plus, he loved the fact that others admired you too, especially knowing he had you all to himself.

Then slowly forming a smirk of his own, he turned to you once more. "Oh babe, you deserve far more than just a prize."

And to your great surprise, you received four prizes that night. And then two more in the morning.

[eyesxxyou]

*ೃ˚ :💾 richmiguel x bev-girl!reader

❝ warnings ❞ but of a power dynamic at play, exhibitionism, mating press, pussy slapping, creampie, rough fucking

Rich!Miguel who attends a country club on his off days, lounging in the sun, golfing, playing tennis, whatever ridiculously rich men do. He finds it mostly boring there, he wouldn't even attend if it weren't for you. His favorite bev-girl.

Rich!Miguel who makes it clear you're his favorite. Who gives lavish tips to all the bev-girls but hands you tips big enough to pay for your rent for the month. "For you, muñeca." You liked the way the word left his lips, like a purr. The other bev-girls can be jealous at times. Miguel was by far the most handsome of the bunch who flirted with them and of all people, he chose you.

Rich!Miguel who's just your type, tall, dark, handsome, and older. It's just a bonus that he's rich. You brazenly flirt back and watch the way he eats it up. There's only so much you can do on the clock. Technically, you're not supposed to keep conversation with any of the clientele but no one cares to keep such a rule. It's the clients who start them, their grimy hands touching where they can, smiles as they call the girls beautiful in the slimiest ways possible. Miguel remained respectful. He didn't touch unless prompted to, kept innocent conversation with the girls mostly just trying to do their jobs. All of the girls liked him, if not had a crush on him.

Rich!Miguel who offers to teach you how to golf on your break. You played dumb, pretended not to know how to because you wanted it to be just you and him so badly. You with your wide eyes and pouty lips, standing with a club too large for you. How could he say no to that? So he took to across the fields in the golf cart he rented out to a secluded course he knew was too easy for most players so was avoided all together.

Rich!Miguel who helped you with your posture by grabbing your hips and pulling them straight before pressing his body to yours and wrapping his arms around your body, his biceps as big as your entire head. "Keep your back straight, muñeca." His large hands wrapped over your smaller ones. You felt his firm body against yours and felt heat between your legs. All your nights imagining him this close to you and now you were creaming your panties the moment he touched you to help you out.

Rich!Miguel who watched as you bent over in front of him, in a skirt far too small to be playing any sport in, and showed off, with pride, the soft silhouette of your pussy through your panties and the wet spot that coated it. He decided then it was time to stop playing coy and for you to stop playing hooky. "You've been lying to me, cariño." You stood abruptly and looked at him, still with those big, oblivious eyes of yours. "Huh?" Miguel stood so close to you, you could smell his expensive cologne. He grabbed you and turned you around back into position, this time, with the beginnings of a hard-on pressed I to your ass. "You know exactly how to play."

Rich!Miguel who had your hands gripping the bars above your head on the golf cart as he seemed to make your body fold on itself. He had your legs pressed to your chest, the knobs of your knees on either side of your ears. His hands sat at the crease of your knees as he gazed down at the sight before him. His cock bullied apart your slick folds and pushed into your wet pussy. You begged him to slow down, you hand placed upon his barely exposed hip but he slapped it away. “Shut up and take it, stupid slut. This was what you wanted, right?”

Anyone passing by close enough would be able to see you, your heart raced with the exhilaration but Miguel forced you to keep looking at him. He loved eye contact, loved those eyes of your swelling with tears, loved the way your pussy lips parted from him. He did it so unceremoniously, simply shoving your shirt up your waist and pulling your soaked panties to the side.

Rich!Miguel who spanks your pussy when you moan too loud, who fucks you at just a the right angle to force a bulge to emerge from your lower belly, who fucks you so hard you think you might pass out. He fucks the air from your lungs, fucks you so that you go cross-eyed. "Migueeel!" You would moan into his calloused palm. Your pussy made his cock creamy and wet. Either he was too big or you were too tight, either way, each thrust meant his cock stretched you open in ways you’ve never been before. He forced you to mold to the shape of him, his tip kissing your cervix in ways that make you shudder.

Miguel! Oh my…fuck~ Miguel, pl-ease.” Your orgasm ravished you, made your muscles spasm as the whole car rocked with the brutality of his thrusts. Your pussy clamped around his tighter, shuddering and quivering and begging him to cum inside.

Rich!Miguel who came inside your pussy with something less than a roar and more than a groan. You whimper at the heat of his cum filling you slowly, coating your walls as he inched his way out and made more space for his hot sperm. He watched it come out of you in globs and quickly put your panties back in place to keep it there.

Rich!Miguel who kisses you and whispers in your ear. "I'll see you back on the clock."