#pressure shift golf swing

[rotaryswinggolf]

How To Shift Your Weight In The Golf Swing To Avoid Flipping 🏌️‍♂️

In this golf lesson, we will be diving into the essential technique of how to shift your weight in the golf swing to avoid flipping. We'll discuss simple setup changes and how to get deep into the right side to improve your swing. Many amateur golfers struggle with this, so we'll show you the common tendencies and how to correct them. We will also cover the importance of maintaining a full shoulder turn and how it affects your downswing sequence. You'll be amazed at how small adjustments can make a big impact on your swing and overall game.

[elliesflower]

what's love? [ellie williams]

pairing; ellie x gn!reader

cw; angst, ellie and reader in a situationship(kinda), post-golf incident (joel mentioned), slightly au (still set in jackson, ellie never went to seattle), ellie doesn't open up ab her feelings :(

an; hello! first off, rest easy to one of the greatest to ever do it, miss tina herself. while listening to her today i felt like this song was very ellie-coded tbh nd i haven't been great lately nd just wanted to throw something angsty together for my baby girl :( (i know the song's vibe doesn't necessarily match the story's vibe but i'm meaning more the lyrics). also this is more from ellie's pov so reader is gn and has absolutely no physical descriptors!!

no smut, but like all my content please 18+ only, mdni!!!

Three little words. 

One big problem. 

What is it?

“Is this the end?” 

No, not those ones. It was something else, painful, and always dancing at the tip of her tongue, making tiny beads of sweat prick at her palms and a ball of trepidation sink to the pit of her stomach. They were cursed words, seldom given thought, and never spoken aloud. The underlying topic of ninety percent of all songs ever written, and movies produced—it was cruel, really, how there was no escaping it. 

“This can’t be the end…” 

Vision blurred by the thoughts of a thousand demons, Ellie muttered back into the void. 

“It’s not,” and her voice was so quiet, it very well could have been the wind pestering the trees outside her window. 

“It’s not…?”

Oh. Right. 

Movie. 

Your legs shifted under the shared blanket, and Ellie’s eyes refocused onto your folded hands in your lap. 

“Is there a second movie, or something?” Your voice was trembling only slightly, the emotional turmoil of the last twenty minutes of the movie lacing your words. 

Ellie shook her head again, as if it would shake her brain right out. She couldn’t help but to feel bad, having practically abandoned the movie as she stewed in her own emotions. There were so many of them, fighting to get out, clawing her insides every time she looked at your face for too long.

“Sorry,” she could blame her watery eyes on the movie. Push aside her feelings. Again. “No, there’s no second one. I wish there was, though.”

Ellie wasn’t much like an open book. Or, I guess she was a very specific kind of book. That one you fell in love with based on the dust jacket description, with her complex words and inexplicit detail, but every time you’d pull it down to read, something stopped you. Life gets in the way. You’d tried and tried, oh god have you tried, to open her up; to wear her down, pressing on her spine and dog-earing her pages, keeping her infrequent tipsy confessions and three-am sleep deprived rants in the back of your mind like a filing cabinet. Pushing, but never pressuring. Ellie didn’t like pressure. 

“S’okay,” your voice was always soft with her. Couldn’t be loud, couldn’t scare her away, because Ellie Williams could fucking run. Away from her problems, as fast as her legs could carry her and as far as her heart would let her. Despite her alienation, the empty bed permanently rooted in the hardwood of Joel’s house kept her coming back. “Did y’wanna watch anything else? I’m kinda tired.” 

Even the softness of your voice couldn’t conceal your hurt, that she was shutting down. Closing you off. Keeping you at a distance. Her heart twinged, but she couldn’t look at you. She looked down at her outstretched legs, the off-white blanket cascading over them, the piece of dust she could see out of the corner of her eye. Anything. Except you. She felt cold, but your body was warm, radiating and making her shift toward you subconsciously. She hated it. 

Why is hate so much easier to express?

“You have patrol tomorrow?” It was easier to just get technical, sometimes. You nodded, before stretching your arms over your head, a yawn escaping you. “Gotta be up at four. Wesley and Nia have the flu or something, so we have to head out early to swing by their posts, too.” Ellie nodded, absentmindedly picking at her cuticles. Ignoring the sweet smell of vanilla that emanated from your body as your arms went over your head. 

She was so proud of herself when she found you that bar soap out on patrol, neatly tucked away in a dusty white vanity. You were so happy, so grateful, always so grateful that she was thinking of you. That she perceived you in such a way.

And she almost fucking said it, that night. Almost ruined everything. Those three little words. She was high, probably on some weed, but also on how your eyes sparkled when you were happy, the way your eyes crinkled slightly at the corners and you shifted your body weight side-to-side excitedly. Your emotions were quite obvious, most of the time. It made Ellie want to cry. 

“That sucks,” she mumbled, and she couldn’t help it now. You were like a magnet, she was sliding down against the pillows, watching the credits roll on the small screen past the end of her bed. She could hear you breathing, deep and careful. On edge. Why were you so on edge?

“It does,” you agreed. Ellie didn’t look away from the screen. Sinking, slowly, slowly, slower...her head was resting near your rib cage, now. She could feel you breathing. And she felt you slide down to match her position, turning your body to face her, silently and without explanation. It was better that way. 

“You’ll sleep here tonight?” And it felt strangled, coming out of her throat. She didn’t need to say anything, though. Of course you were sleeping in her bed. Tonight, and the night before that, and before that…but she felt you nod against her side, and her arm slid up to allow you access to her chest. No explanation. Ellie was really bad at explaining. 

“You’re cold,” your voice was muffled against the fabric of her gray hoodie. Ellie almost smiled. Almost. 

“You’re warm,” she retorted, and she feels your heart pulse faster against the skin of your back. The movie’s end credits became the soundtrack to the night. Soft and pensive. Like you. 

Ellie watched as your breathing eventually slowed, your shoulders rising and falling rhythmically as you drifted away into sleep. She was always jealous of that, though of course, like everything else, she’d never admit it—how your tiredness always let you drift into a blissful dreamland, your right hand twitching where it usually sat curled loosely atop her chest as you slept. You moved a lot, she noticed, and talked sometimes, too. Sleep didn’t come easy to people like Ellie. 

And so, she was absolutely, positively, awake and conscious when you let out a breathy sigh in your sleep, legs twitching slightly against her bottom half before settling back into her chest. A whisper escaped your lips, so sweet it may have been laced with vanilla, too. 

“I love you…” 

But this time, Ellie couldn’t stop her tears.

[nihils-trolls]

📝 Quilis

(I had two of these for Quilis so I just made this one a teensy bit longer. So here you go)

A heft of a sledgehammer. A heavy swing downwards.

The pumpkin Quilis had set in front of her exploded into chunks. Its innards spill out in a gooey, overripe mess. Unsurprisingly, it had given way much easier than she expected it to. She was doing this later than she usually would, and the stockpile she kept of the gourds this season have been slowly losing their shape.

It didn’t feel as satisfying as it usually did.

She kicks the smashed pieces out of the way and moves another into the last one’s place. 

Quilis feels… frustrated. No. It’s more than that, there’s something else to it. Every sweep, this was her outlet- some kind of ritual to help her unwind. It didn’t hurt anyone, and it was fun.

Was.

This sweep has been different, though. Ever since that door opened, more just kept opening. Not just those, but the windows too. The walls felt like they’ve been crumbling down- things falling out left and right. And she’s been floundering to keep everything together. Holed up tight.

She swings the hammer down again, this pumpkin exploding into an even messier sight. Juice, guts and pumpkin seeds splatter on her jeans and sweater. But she doesn’t really care, and moves on to the next.

The door. The shop. Her memory, and the ensuing aftermath. The Boar King, too.

Weak. Vulnerable. 

Pitiful.

… Thunk.

Quilis looks down, this one apparently not giving way immediately. She swings down again. And again, and once more. With the last, she’s given her victory- another gross mess. With it, thoughts about everything else that’s happened.

The hive is alive, who’d have thought. And so is her ancestor, a-fucking-pparently. Then there were the several new trolls she met. Among them a fairy. A horror hybrid. One of them, a god, for fuck’s sake. Another… she doesn’t fully understand.

Does she need to understand? 

It’s been way more activity than she’s been used to. All of it, stressful. Pulled and pushed in several directions. All of them, their own situations. It’s hard to keep track. More and more things, falling through the cracks.

She hated it. Hated it so much- not being in control of her feelings.

Inept- failing to manage the stress that violently is boiling beneath her surface.

Worst of all, she hated being wrong. The system she’s supposedly perfected for dozens of sweeps, cracking and crumbling under the pressure.

She moves another pumpkin up to the slab of stone she’s been using as a makeshift executioner’s block. Staring down at it, she feels that acid rise in her chest again. Volatile, and broiling.

Quilis shifts her position from the usual, holding the sledge more like a golf club. With a yell, she smacks the pumpkin up and towards the castle wall- where it hits with a very loud thud, and crack. The wall itself seems to shake under the force, and the pumpkin completely liquifies upon impact.

She then throws the sledgehammer in some other direction, not caring to see where it lands. Her breathing quickens, and she walks off into the woods.

Left behind, a gruesome scene of squash viscera and a few cracked windows.

[macrogolf12]

Mastering Control: The Power of the One Plane Grip in Golf

The game of golf has always been as much about technique as it is about strategy. One of the pivotal aspects that can influence a player's swing and overall performance is the grip. Among the various grip styles available, the One Plane Grip has emerged as a popular choice among golfers seeking consistency and control. This article explores the intricacies of the One Plane Grip, its advantages, and the factors that make it a standout choice for both novice and experienced players.

Key Characteristics of the One Plane Grip

One of the defining characteristics of the One Plane Grip is its emphasis on simplicity. By maintaining a consistent hand position throughout the swing, golfers can minimize the potential for errors that might arise from changing hand placements or grip pressure. This consistency leads to better ball striking, as the clubface remains more square at impact. Additionally, the One Plane Grip typically involves a stronger grip with the hands turned more to the right (for right-handed golfers). This promotes a closed clubface at address, which can aid in drawing the ball and preventing slices.

The Benefits of the One Plane Grip

The One Plane Grip offers several benefits that can enhance a golfer's game. First and foremost, it fosters greater control over the club during the swing. With a consistent grip, players are less likely to experience erratic swings or unintended deviations. This reliability can lead to improved accuracy on the course, as golfers become more confident in their ability to hit their intended targets.

Adapting to the One Plane Grip

Transitioning to the One Plane Grip may require adjustments in your current swing mechanics. Golfers accustomed to the Two Plane Grip might find it challenging to adapt at first, as it involves a shift in hand position and swing dynamics. It is advisable to work with a golf instructor or coach to facilitate this transition, ensuring that the new grip is executed correctly.

Mental Approach to the One Plane Grip

The One Plane Grip also requires a mental shift in how golfers approach their game. Emphasizing consistency and control can help players focus on the process rather than getting bogged down by the outcome. A positive mindset is crucial, as confidence in one's grip and swing mechanics can significantly impact performance on the course.

As with any technique in golf, success with the One Plane Grip requires commitment, practice, and a willingness to adapt. Whether you're a seasoned player or just starting, the benefits of mastering this grip can be transformative, setting you on a path to improved performance and enjoyment on the course. So, take the time to understand and implement the One Plane Grip, and you may find that it not only elevates your game but also your love for the sport.

[shiftgolf]

Maximizing Longevity and Performance in Golf: The Synergy Between Exercise, Nutrition, and Wellness

Introduction:

Golf is often seen as a sport that can be enjoyed well into the later years of life, making it unique compared to many other athletic pursuits. However, while golf may not seem as physically taxing as other sports, it places distinct demands on the body that require attention to both fitness and nutrition. For golfers looking to maximize their longevity, maintain high performance, and enjoy a long, healthy life on and off the course, the combination of exercise and nutrition cannot be overstated. At SHIFT TRAINING, we are committed to helping you unlock your full potential and live vibrantly with a balance of physical activity and proper nutrition.

The Benefits of Regular Exercise

It’s no secret that regular exercise offers tremendous benefits for our overall health. From cardiovascular health to musculoskeletal fitness, staying active is key to maintaining vitality, particularly as we age. Golfers, in particular, can experience significant improvements in their game by maintaining a consistent exercise routine.

According to extensive research published in the Canadian Medical Association Journal, there is “irrefutable evidence” that exercise significantly lowers the risk of a range of chronic illnesses, including heart disease, cancer, osteoporosis, depression, high blood pressure, diabetes, and obesity. In fact, physical inactivity is often listed as one of the major risk factors for these conditions. For golfers, who spend significant time walking and swinging clubs, exercise goes beyond disease prevention—it directly translates to better performance, increased stamina, and reduced injury risk.

Cardiovascular Health

Cardio exercise such as walking, jogging, or swimming improves heart health, helping you maintain stamina for those long rounds of golf. Walking the course, rather than relying on a golf cart, can provide a great cardiovascular workout. According to research, walking 18 holes equates to covering 4-5 miles, which is a substantial contribution to your daily physical activity goals.

Muscle Strength and Flexibility

A strong and flexible body is key to maintaining a smooth and powerful golf swing. Strength training exercises, particularly those that target the core, back, and legs, help golfers maintain proper form and generate greater force when hitting the ball. Flexibility exercises, such as yoga or dynamic stretching, prevent stiffness and ensure that muscles are supple, reducing the risk of injury and enhancing range of motion.

Balance and Coordination

Balance is a crucial aspect of golf, and exercises that challenge your balance can improve your golf swing mechanics. Incorporating balance-focused workouts, such as stability ball exercises or single-leg activities, into your routine helps enhance coordination, translating to more consistent and accurate shots on the golf course.

Nutrition:The Building Blocks of Optimal Performance

While exercise forms one half of the wellness equation, nutrition is the other crucial element. Proper nutrition not only fuels the body but also supports recovery and injury prevention. For golfers aiming to maintain peak performance, a balanced diet is essential to optimizing energy levels, enhancing focus, and supporting overall well-being.

Macronutrients: Carbs, Proteins, and Fats

For athletes, including golfers, the three main macronutrients—carbohydrates, proteins, and fats—play specific roles in fueling performance and recovery. Carbohydrates are the body's main energy source, especially during long rounds. Foods like whole grains, fruits, and vegetables provide the necessary fuel to maintain stamina throughout the day.

Protein, on the other hand, is vital for muscle repair and recovery. After a strenuous workout or round of golf, incorporating high-quality proteins such as lean meats, fish, eggs, and plant-based options helps rebuild muscle tissue and prevent fatigue.

Healthy fats, found in nuts, seeds, avocados, and olive oil, are important for overall cell function and maintaining energy levels during prolonged periods of activity.

Micronutrients: Vitamins and Minerals

In addition to macronutrients, golfers must focus on their intake of essential vitamins and minerals. Micronutrients such as vitamin D, calcium, magnesium, and potassium play key roles in bone health, muscle function, and overall vitality. For instance, magnesium helps regulate muscle contractions, while potassium balances fluid levels, helping to prevent cramping during prolonged physical exertion.

Vitamin D and calcium are particularly important for bone health. Given that golf requires significant rotation through the spine, hips, and shoulders, maintaining strong bones is essential for preventing stress fractures or joint issues.

Hydration

Dehydration can negatively impact focus, coordination, and stamina. Given that a round of golf can take several hours, it’s crucial to stay properly hydrated before, during, and after playing. Water should be the go-to beverage, but electrolytes, particularly sodium and potassium, are also essential, especially in warmer climates. Without adequate hydration, even small imbalances in your body’s fluid levels can lead to decreased performance and increased injury risk.

The Role of Supplements in Supporting Performance

Despite our best efforts to maintain a well-rounded diet, it can be difficult to meet all our nutritional needs through food alone, especially for athletes or those with demanding schedules. Nutritional supplements can fill in these gaps, providing essential nutrients that support fitness goals, boost recovery, and enhance physical performance.

The Peak Performance Pack

One supplement we recommend at SHIFT TRAINING is the Peak Performance Pack, which has been clinically proven to reduce free radicals in the body. Free radicals, if left unchecked, can cause oxidative stress, leading to premature aging, muscle fatigue, and a decline in physical performance. By combating oxidative stress, the Peak Performance Pack can help extend both lifespan and quality of life.

In two separate human clinical studies, the Peak Performance Pack was shown to significantly reduce the presence of free radicals. The antioxidants in this supplement, such as vitamins C and E, along with plant-based compounds like flavonoids, help neutralize these harmful molecules, protecting the body from oxidative damage. For golfers, this means enhanced recovery times, less inflammation, and improved endurance.

Incorporating supplements such as the Peak Performance Pack into your routine allows you to address nutritional deficiencies, enabling your body to perform at its best. We firmly believe that every client at SHIFT TRAINING should experience the transformative benefits of this product.

Exercise and Nutrition for Longevity

Longevity in golf, and life in general, is largely determined by the choices we make regarding our health and wellness. By committing to regular exercise and maintaining a balanced, nutrient-rich diet, you can drastically reduce the risk of age-related diseases and improve your quality of life for decades to come.

At SHIFT TRAINING, we encourage our clients to focus on the following strategies for lasting wellness:

Consistency is Key:

Whether it’s regular gym sessions, a home workout, or simply walking the golf course more often, consistency in physical activity is essential for building and maintaining fitness over time.

Progressive Strength Training: 

Resistance training, particularly focusing on core strength, helps golfers maintain posture and reduce the risk of injury. Strong muscles also support better golf performance, allowing for longer drives and more stability through each swing.

Dynamic Flexibility: 

Stretching before and after your workouts or rounds of golf is key to preventing stiffness and injury. Dynamic stretching, which involves moving your muscles and joints through their full range of motion, ensures that your body remains limber and ready for the physical demands of golf.

Adequate Recovery: 

Taking rest days and ensuring you get proper sleep allows your body to recover from the stresses of physical activity. Nutrition also plays a critical role in recovery; consuming the right balance of protein, carbohydrates, and fats after workouts ensures that your body can repair itself and be ready for the next round.

Mindful Eating: 

Fueling your body with high-quality, nutrient-dense foods gives you the energy you need for peak performance. We encourage you to focus on whole foods that are rich in essential nutrients, while also considering supplements that can support your specific health goals.

Conclusion: 

Embrace the Journey Toward Wellness

By focusing on regular exercise, proper nutrition, and smart supplementation, golfers can experience not only enhanced performance but also a longer, healthier life. At SHIFT TRAINING, we’re here to help you on your journey toward optimal wellness—whether it’s improving your golf game, maintaining fitness as you age, or simply living a more active lifestyle. Together, we can unlock your full potential and ensure that you enjoy every round of golf for years to come.

[artcalledcinema]

Expectorant I watch WhiteZombie’s Blood, Milk and Sky I’m taken back to 1981’s Kill and Kill Again For I was born in 74’ Thee expectancy (You’re a joke in back rooms) After being not your Rally kissed Simple question ‘In the likes but don’t quote it’s been a 2 days’ you are prepared (paired) [here and now] to be your predecessor if the wholly Good-ish designed {as a replacement} have have I boggled You A man at such cognitive amplitude Should read through this designed test Provided by shoestrings To entangle You Don J Trump I’ve made you jump now answer Thee only Questioning In a Vice President If I die? Your heart and mind (loosely souled) Dodged a BASIC FIRST QUESTION Dear President turn (third world) Snatch up and disappear “Sir, he picked his Vice as a faithfully following weak link@LynchPin FearFactory in multitudes of following <he needs people behind him in cameras> Help soothes his ego All narcissism” Still with me Oh hoo rahh EXPECTORANT Or instructed enticed ;WordsbyMM; Reading into me Oh orange split into Open airwaves We all love a push up To digestion Who doesn’t in this damn Ecological weather The tornadoes Hurricanes Brush drag-ments A razor for real blood Or theatrics Halo Hi-lo Hello Expecting expectorant’s From the Young VOTING and not for(e) Trump Rump T, all on his ass he believes in only himself {as long as you back him} Still playing @He’s reading along@ I’m lying flat not laughing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I could X, that formerly tweeter-ed Also stay along for Ad Vert ;)Isements;) From |wh| our locally introverts /here on thee island/ A I Wouldn’t In for Real Present Expectancy I Hope Not Trumped-Not I’m so O Positive In the Democrats Trump volunteer, I ask you Explain shift of parties after CivilWars times? I didn’t want to pressure you, Donald J Trump Ex (convicted) Former President A loud announcement $ y i u, we know with a good quality of pounds$$$, or gems$ (We) yo me and you can turn this thing around for you, i curb pock me up i can like cd changerflip it around all gore you or (sorry McC) was speaking make a difference for you just call me im social too i can Help, errko(aka) Waiting Sir Fore your calling into our phone line I only have one I can turn your election In your favor Please subscribe My results are sound I have behind the Moon The whole Universe at my disposal Or deposited into Supreme courts Heat wise, lowering standards (Behind closed doors, McCain said, fuck him & and talking of you) the doctor grabbed knowledge At the next rally Drop do twenty push ups Or show Video Swinging a golf club All children and adults They all know of palming pussy Palmed pussy In that Ex Former President Expectorant from me WordsbyMM MMybsDrow You clamming a wall with useless knowledge and paid by Campaign Fuck off Never wit ya Sucka I wouldn’t let you suck my (Dic|<) Remember Should I bring it back (Where was it seen thee Trump obscene) (Where was it seen thee Trump obscene) (Where was it seen thee Trump obscene) On national T V Trump Vance T V Trump Vance God’s in the TV Or On Probably simply easier To miss ***if you die, will the Country be less then or greater!***

That’s the Question????? ???? ????

To simple in broad minds!!

Tell U S man, Trump

Answer

Answer this Question?

[artcalledmusica]

Expectorant I watch WhiteZombie’s Blood, Milk and Sky I’m taken back to 1981’s Kill and Kill Again For I was born in 74’ Thee expectancy (You’re a joke in back rooms) After being not your Rally kissed Simple question ‘In the likes but don’t quote it’s been a 2 days’ you are prepared (paired) [here and now] to be your predecessor if the wholly Good-ish designed {as a replacement} have have I boggled You A man at such cognitive amplitude Should read through this designed test Provided by shoestrings To entangle You Don J Trump I’ve made you jump now answer Thee only Questioning In a Vice President If I die? Your heart and mind (loosely souled) Dodged a BASIC FIRST QUESTION Dear President turn (third world) Snatch up and disappear “Sir, he picked his Vice as a faithfully following weak link@LynchPin FearFactory in multitudes of following <he needs people behind him in cameras> Help soothes his ego All narcissism” Still with me Oh hoo rahh EXPECTORANT Or instructed enticed ;WordsbyMM; Reading into me Oh orange split into Open airwaves We all love a push up To digestion Who doesn’t in this damn Ecological weather The tornadoes Hurricanes Brush drag-ments A razor for real blood Or theatrics Halo Hi-lo Hello Expecting expectorant’s From the Young VOTING and not for(e) Trump Rump T, all on his ass he believes in only himself {as long as you back him} Still playing @He’s reading along@ I’m lying flat not laughing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I could X, that formerly tweeter-ed Also stay along for Ad Vert ;)Isements;) From |wh| our locally introverts /here on thee island/ A I Wouldn’t In for Real Present Expectancy I Hope Not Trumped-Not I’m so O Positive In the Democrats Trump volunteer, I ask you Explain shift of parties after CivilWars times? I didn’t want to pressure you, Donald J Trump Ex (convicted) Former President A loud announcement $ y i u, we know with a good quality of pounds$$$, or gems$ (We) yo me and you can turn this thing around for you, i curb pock me up i can like cd changerflip it around all gore you or (sorry McC) was speaking make a difference for you just call me im social too i can Help, errko(aka) Waiting Sir Fore your calling into our phone line I only have one I can turn your election In your favor Please subscribe My results are sound I have behind the Moon The whole Universe at my disposal Or deposited into Supreme courts Heat wise, lowering standards (Behind closed doors, McCain said, fuck him & and talking of you) the doctor grabbed knowledge At the next rally Drop do twenty push ups Or show Video Swinging a golf club All children and adults They all know of palming pussy Palmed pussy In that Ex Former President Expectorant from me WordsbyMM MMybsDrow You clamming a wall with useless knowledge and paid by Campaign Fuck off Never wit ya Sucka I wouldn’t let you suck my (Dic|<) Remember Should I bring it back (Where was it seen thee Trump obscene) (Where was it seen thee Trump obscene) (Where was it seen thee Trump obscene) On national T V Trump Vance T V Trump Vance God’s in the TV Or On Probably simply easier To miss

But God forbid if !!!!!!

Another bullet hits your mind, the question was is He fit?

To replace you!

Nothing to do with ego!

Answer Trump!

We are U S in waiting!

Please Sir?

You piss oh golden and shite in

My Ex Former President (Convicted)

Numerous walls looking over the Fence!

You and He

Trump Vance

X I’ve tweeted or X-ed

How’s it called I’m adding to this one

Now only on Tumblr

T M V

M T V

V T M

T V M

The so ones & on’s

We captured together (ahh the added)

[artcalledoddities]

Expectorant I watch WhiteZombie’s Blood, Milk and Sky I’m taken back to 1981’s Kill and Kill Again For I was born in 74’ Thee expectancy (You’re a joke in back rooms) After being not your Rally kissed Simple question ‘In the likes but don’t quote it’s been a 2 days’ you are prepared (paired) [here and now] to be your predecessor if the wholly Good-ish designed {as a replacement} have have I boggled You A man at such cognitive amplitude Should read through this designed test Provided by shoestrings To entangle You Don J Trump I’ve made you jump now answer Thee only Questioning In a Vice President If I die? Your heart and mind (loosely souled) Dodged a BASIC FIRST QUESTION Dear President turn (third world) Snatch up and disappear “Sir, he picked his Vice as a faithfully following weak link@LynchPin FearFactory in multitudes of following <he needs people behind him in cameras> Help soothes his ego All narcissism” Still with me Oh hoo rahh EXPECTORANT Or instructed enticed ;WordsbyMM; Reading into me Oh orange split into Open airwaves We all love a push up To digestion Who doesn’t in this damn Ecological weather The tornadoes Hurricanes Brush drag-ments A razor for real blood Or theatrics Halo Hi-lo Hello Expecting expectorant’s From the Young VOTING and not for(e) Trump Rump T, all on his ass he believes in only himself {as long as you back him} Still playing @He’s reading along@ I’m lying flat not laughing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I could X, that formerly tweeter-ed Also stay along for Ad Vert ;)Isements;) From |wh| our locally introverts /here on thee island/ A I Wouldn’t In for Real Present Expectancy I Hope Not Trumped-Not I’m so O Positive In the Democrats Trump volunteer, I ask you Explain shift of parties after CivilWars times? I didn’t want to pressure you, Donald J Trump Ex (convicted) Former President A loud announcement $ y i u, we know with a good quality of pounds$$$, or gems$ (We) yo me and you can turn this thing around for you, i curb pock me up i can like cd changerflip it around all gore you or (sorry McC) was speaking make a difference for you just call me im social too i can Help, errko(aka) Waiting Sir Fore your calling into our phone line I only have one I can turn your election In your favor Please subscribe My results are sound I have behind the Moon The whole Universe at my disposal Or deposited into Supreme courts Heat wise, lowering standards (Behind closed doors, McCain said, fuck him & and talking of you) the doctor grabbed knowledge At the next rally Drop do twenty push ups Or show Video Swinging a golf club All children and adults They all know of palming pussy Palmed pussy In that Ex Former President Expectorant from me WordsbyMM MMybsDrow You clamming a wall with useless knowledge and paid by Campaign Fuck off Never wit ya Sucka I wouldn’t let you suck my (Dic|<) Remember Should I bring it back (Where was it seen thee Trump obscene) (Where was it seen thee Trump obscene) (Where was it seen thee Trump obscene) On national T V Trump Vance T V Trump Vance God’s in the TV Or On Probably simply easier To miss Sir air error!

[unitedstatesofworld]

Viktor Hovland's Daughter: A Future Star in the Making?

When you think of Viktor Hovlands daughter, the first thing that comes to mind is his remarkable talent on the golf course. But there's more to this Norwegian sensation than just his impressive swings and tournament victories. Recently, the spotlight has started to shift toward a more personal aspect of his life: his daughter. What’s it like growing up with a world-famous golfer as a dad? Could she be the next big name in golf? Let’s dive into the enchanting world of Viktor Hovland and his daughter, uncovering some delightful and unexpected insights.

Who Is Viktor Hovland?

Rising Star in the Golfing World

Viktor Hovland burst onto the golfing scene with a charm and skill set that quickly captured the hearts of golf enthusiasts worldwide. Born and raised in Norway, Hovland made a name for himself with his calm demeanor and sharp focus. He’s known for his resilience and exceptional performance under pressure, traits that have earned him several PGA Tour wins and accolades. But behind every successful man is a story worth telling, and in Hovland’s case, it's his journey as a father that’s now catching public interest.

Family Man at Heart

Despite the demands of a professional golfing career, Hovland has always been a family-oriented individual. His dedication to his daughter and the balance he maintains between his career and personal life is nothing short of inspiring. It's a testament to his character that he manages to excel in one of the most demanding sports while also being a present and supportive father.

The Adorable Bond: Viktor Hovland and His Daughter

A Peek into Their Daily Lives

One of the most heartwarming aspects of Hovland’s life is his relationship with his daughter. Social media occasionally offers glimpses into their life together, painting a picture of a doting dad who values quality time with his little girl. Whether it’s a cozy morning breakfast or a playful afternoon in the park, their bond is palpable and endearing.

Shared Moments on the Golf Course

Given Hovland’s profession, it's no surprise that his daughter has shown an early interest in golf. There have been several occasions where father and daughter were spotted on the golf course, Hovland patiently teaching her the basics of the game. It’s these moments that make fans wonder: could she inherit her father’s golfing prowess?

Is Viktor Hovland’s Daughter the Next Golf Prodigy?

Natural Talent or Nurtured Skill?

There’s always curiosity surrounding the children of famous athletes—do they possess the same innate talent, or is it a product of their environment? For Hovland’s daughter, the answer might be a blend of both. Surrounded by the sport from such a young age, she’s bound to pick up skills and techniques effortlessly. Coupled with Hovland’s guidance, her potential seems limitless.

Early Signs of Brilliance

While it's too early to predict her future with certainty, there have been promising signs. Her keen interest in the game, combined with her father’s expert coaching, lays a strong foundation. Stories from friends and family hint at a young girl who’s not only passionate about golf but also shows a natural aptitude for it. Could we be witnessing the rise of another Hovland in the making? Only time will tell.

Balancing Stardom and Fatherhood

The Challenges of a High-Profile Career

Balancing a high-profile career with parenthood is no easy feat. For Hovland, the challenge is even more pronounced given the global nature of professional golf. Frequent travels, long tournaments, and the need to stay at the top of his game demand significant time and effort. Yet, Hovland manages to strike a balance, ensuring he’s present for the important moments in his daughter’s life.

The Role of a Supportive Network

Behind every successful athlete is a supportive network. Hovland’s family and friends play a crucial role in helping him maintain this balance. They provide the necessary support system that allows him to focus on his career while also being an involved and loving father. This network is vital in helping Hovland navigate the complexities of his dual roles.

Frequently Asked Questions

How Old Is Viktor Hovland’s Daughter?

As of the latest updates, Viktor Hovland’s daughter is still quite young, just beginning to explore her interests and talents. Exact details about her age are often kept private to protect her privacy, but it's clear she’s at an impressionable age, making her bond with her father all the more significant.

Does She Play Golf Regularly?

While it’s not confirmed if she plays golf regularly, she has been seen enjoying the sport with her father on several occasions. These father-daughter golf sessions suggest that she might be developing a fondness for the game, potentially hinting at a future in the sport.

How Does Hovland Balance His Career and Fatherhood?

Balancing a demanding career and fatherhood requires a well-coordinated effort. Hovland relies heavily on his supportive family and friends. His disciplined lifestyle and time management skills also play a crucial role in ensuring he can give his best both on the golf course and at home.

What’s Next for Viktor Hovland’s Daughter?

The future is wide open for Hovland’s daughter. With a supportive father who understands the nuances of a high-pressure career, she has a solid foundation to pursue any path she chooses. Whether she follows in her father’s footsteps or carves out her own unique path, the world will be watching with bated breath.

Conclusion

The story of Viktor Hovland and his daughter is a beautiful blend of ambition, talent, and familial love. It offers a refreshing perspective on the life of a professional athlete, showing us that behind the accolades and victories, there’s a deeply personal journey that’s equally important. As Hovland continues to make waves in the golfing world, his daughter’s journey, whether it leads to golf or elsewhere, will undoubtedly be an inspiring one to follow. Here's to hoping that the next chapter in the Hovland family saga is as captivating and heartwarming as the current one!

[alitaylorgolf-blog]

Pressure / Weight Shift In The Golf Swing

[arvinsescape]

Behave.

A/N: This is my first time writing a meaner Dom!Tom so I hope you enjoy and I apologise if it is shite, I will learn eventually. I hope you all enjoy 💕

Summary: Tom golfing does things to you and you decide to tease Tom.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (Minors do not engage) (fingering, oral (fem R), orgasm denial. Degradation. Exhibitionism (kinda). Very light choking. Bondage. I think that’s everything.

W/C: 3.1K

You were attending the golfing event with Tom, he’d asked you to come along and you just couldn’t decline. There was something about watching him play golf that got you going, maybe it was the confidence that he had when he was playing. It could even be the way you to watch his muscles bulge when he swung his club, whatever it was, it always got you going. There was rarely a time you’d watch him play golf and not end up hot, bothered and all over him.

Of course you were well aware this would be a little different, photographers were going to be everywhere and that meant you had to behave. You’d have to reign yourself in somehow and refrain from being cheeky, not that you minded, this was also something Tom loved to do and you would always be there to support him.

The morning had started out alright, he hadn’t had the best luck but you were there to support him and give him a pep talk. He loved having you around when he golfed, he liked how well you could tame him when he got angry over not playing well. It wouldn’t look good if he had a temper tantrum on the green in front of fans and journalists.

“It’s okay, you can still pull it back, right?” You said as he approached you after a particularly lousy shot.

“Yeah,” he mumbled as he laced his hand in yours and gave it a small squeeze. The sun was coming up properly now, clouds shifting and the temperature rose as they did. It was so hot, you could feel the sweat starting to collect on your forehead as you walked up the green.

“Fucking hell it’s hot.” You mumbled out and Tom looked at you, playful glint in his eye.

“Take your top off, might help me with my game.” He suggested and you swatted his bicep with your free hand.

“Tom,” you scalded as he laughed at you. You were glad you’d checked the weather and had opted for a pair of shorts and a t shirt.

The morning ended up going better for Tom, he seemingly found his stride and was basking in the fact that he was winning. Every time a hole went his way you found yourself in his arms and feet off the ground, you were doing well to keep your self in check, you hadn’t missed the way he looked. The confidence he was now displaying as he moved around the course, the way he looked every time he took a swing.

“Like what you see?” You heard Harrisons voice as he pulled you from your thoughts.

“What?”

“You’re staring.” He pointed out and you laughed.

“Good thing he’s my boyfriend and it won’t be perceived as creepy then.” You joked and Haz laughed as Tom returned to the two of you.

“What?” Tom asked as he took in his best friends grin.

“Nothing, Y/N just likes what she sees.” Haz joked and Tom’s eyes found yours.

“Yeah?” Tom asked as he gave you a knowing look, hands finding your waist as he pulled you into him, your hands finding his chest.

“Yeah.” You confirmed with a smirk and Tom leaned down to kiss your forehead, then cheek before resting his lips against your ear.

“All in good time darling.” He said before taking your lobe between his teeth. That had your heart racing as you let out a sigh of pleasure as his lips kissed up your neck. To anyone else it looked like nothing more than an intimate cuddle, two lovers enjoying each other’s company.

You eventually stepped away from one another, Tom making sure to capture your lips with his own as he did. You were even hotter now, the sun doing nothing to help your state, Harrison noticed your flustered state and smirked as he handed you a bottle of water. You took it from him and chugged down at least half of the bottle whilst Tom lined himself up for his next shot.

“Take it I’m better off not going back to my hotel room when we’re finished up here?” Harrison smirked and you looked at him in shock.

“What do you mean?” You asked and Haz scoffed.

“Oh come on, I’ve lived with the two of you, I’ve been around the world with the two of you. I know when you’re both horny.” He laughed.

“Harrison.” You hissed as you punched his arm, causing him to laugh loudly.

“Listen, you guys have been together for three years, I’m your guys’ best friend, I know when I need to save my ears. You’re both so loud sometimes.” He laughed and you couldn’t help as you bit your lip, embarrassment filling your chest.

“Harrison.” You said firmly and he continued laughing. “We’re not.”

“You are,” he scoffed. “I don’t think you mean to be but you know sometimes I can hear the bed- “

“Okay, Haz I get it.” You said as you cut him off as you both laughed. It wasn’t long before you felt two arms snake around your waist as a club was passed back to Harrison. You leant back into his touch, placing a kiss on his jawline as he squeezed you into him, you were aware of the many flashes going off around you but couldn’t find yourself to care.

“Careful.” Tom muttered as you shifted slightly in his grasp, your backside brushing against his crotch. “Don’t want to start that now, I have a game to win.” He said lowly and you smirked as you not so innocently shifted again. His arm tightening around your waist as his lips found your ear. “Darling.” He said, voice husky and commanding. “Behave.”

You looked at him innocently as you turned in his hold, his gaze darker and stern, he only used those eyes between the sheets and you wondered how far you could push him, what he’d do if you did. The thoughts swirled around your mind as Tom placed a kiss to your temple, hands on your waist giving a squeeze before he stepped back. You missed his touch instantly as he took a seat in a chair that was placed in one of the tents.

“Come here.” He said quietly, hand extending for you to take and you did as he pulled you down and into his lap. Your legs draped across his thighs as his arms fell around your waist, the position had you feeling hot, thoughts of the numerous times he’d had you in this position as he coaxed you towards orgasm with his fingers. Fuck.

“I have four more holes to play, think you can behave long enough for me to finish my game?” He said into your ear and you shivered as you placed your head back on his shoulder.

“But teasing you is so fun.” You admitted and Tom huffed out a laugh.

“Behave.” He said and you felt yourself growing wet. You shifted slightly in the chair, completely on purpose, but to the unknowing eye it looked innocent. Tom’s hands moved to your waist as he halted your movements. “Stop it.” Tom hissed and you felt him grow slightly hard beneath you. You attempted to shift your hips again but Tom’s hands prevented you from doing so. “Oh darling, you really really don’t want to do this.” He said into the shell of your ear.

“Oh but I really do Tom.” You said, all rational thoughts leaving your head as the excitement of him taking you set in.

“I don’t think you do.” He hummed in response.

“What are you going to do Tom?” You teased, well aware he couldn’t punish you in front of this crowd.

“You might not want to find out.” He whispered before nipping your neck and you had to hold in a moan. Your skin felt like it was on fire as he subtly licked the area to soothe it.

**

It was a long four games, it felt like forever had passed by the time he’d finished, winning the game completely. He cheered as he did, eyes finding yours and you saw the want in them, the want for you. They were still dark, your teasing hadn’t ceased, every opportunity you had you’d subtly get him going. Kisses placed to his sweet spot, subtly grinding against him, it was all getting the two of you riled up.

You knew your underwear was completely damp, the material soaked as you thought about what he was going to do to you when you fell into the hotel room. He celebrated for a while, signing autographs and taking pictures until he was told he was able to head back to the hotel room. Which he did instantly, hand finding yours as he led you through the lobby of the hotel. Harrison and Harry had opted to go out for the afternoon, they had both picked up on the tension.

As soon as the lift doors shut, you found yourself pressed against the side of it, Tom’s hand finding your thigh as he hoisted it up his leg. His lips finding yours as he pulled you in for a kiss, it was desperate, needy as he sucked your bottom lip, grazing his teeth over it as he dove straight back in. Tongues clashing as he ground his hips into yours causing a moan to leave your lips.

“Such a needy little brat aren’t you?” He chuckled slightly as his fingers dipped into your shorts and felt how wet you already were for him. “Not even touched you yet and you’re already soaked.” He said as the lift dinged to say you’d reached your floor, you were breathless as Tom pulled away, pulling you down the corridor and into your hotel room.

It wasn’t long before your back found the door and his lips were back on yours, desperate pants and whines leaving your lips as you tried to grind your hips into his.

“So desperate for my cock aren’t you? Couldn’t behave yourself for a morning could you?” He said and you felt yourself grow hotter with his words, desperate for something from him.

“Tom, please.” You begged him and he pulled back to look at you, hand finding your jaw as he forced you to keep eye contact with him.

“What?” He asked, “what is it you want?” He asked as his thumb slipped into your mouth. Your tongue finding the digit as you sucked it, watching as Tom’s eyes darkened further. “Tell me what you want.” Tom demanded as he pulled his thumb from your mouth causing you to whine at the loss of contact.

“Touch me Tom, please.” You begged pathetically and Tom chuckled as his hand slipped as he placed it around your neck, carefully, not too much pressure.

“But you’ve been such a brat, I told you didn’t want to tease me. I don’t think you deserve for me to touch you.” He said and you whined again as you reached out for him, his free hand catching it as he pinned it to the wall beside you. “What makes you think you should get your own way?” He asked as his breath fanned your face.

“Please, Tom. I promise I’ll behave.” You begged, your body aching for his touch by this point.

“You weren’t behaving when you were trying to get me hard in public. That would have been a real problem for me, all those people around. I warned you multiple times princess, why should I believe you want to behave now?” He asked, he was so close, every part of him was close but he wasn’t giving you anything, he wasn’t caving.

“I will, I promise, let me prove it to you.” You said and he pulled back as if in thought and you wondered what he’d have in store for you.

“Get on the bed.” He demanded as he let you go, you immediately obeyed, crawling onto the bed as you laid in the middle of it. You were hot, hotter than you’d been all day, despite the air con that was seemingly having no effect on your blazing skin. Tom fished around in his suitcase for a moment before he pulled out a grey object, your heart beating with anticipation.

He joined you on the bed, stripping you of all your clothing. His golf cap had been removed as soon as you stepped foot into the room, his curls just begging to have your hands in them. He hovered over you as you awaited his next instruction, you were completely bare beneath him whilst he was still fully clothed. Something about the vulnerability of your position making your heart pound and your walls clench.

“Arms up.” He commanded.

“But Tom-“ You began to protest but he stopped you, your body was desperate to feel him, anything he would give you’d take at this point. This was one of the many reasons you loved riling him up, the pleasure you’d receive afterwards was mind blowing. Sex with Tom was always amazing but when you teased him he’d make you work for it and you loved it.

“I thought you said you were going to behave. Or are we in a bratty mood today Y/N?” He asked and you instantly shook your head as you raised your arms above them. It wasn’t long before you were tied to the bed, arms secure above you. “Now are you going to be a good girl for me? Take what I give you?” He asked with a knowing look and you nodded furiously as he kissed your cheek.

“Safe word?” He asked, a little more seriously into your ear, there had been the odd occasion where the restraints had been too much, too tight or you just weren’t feeling them in the way you usually did.

“Red.” You confirmed and he kissed your cheek again.

“Good girl” he said. His hand travelled down your body, stopping as he cupped your wet cunt. “You are such a desperate little thing, all wet and ready for me and I’ve barely even touched you. Do you want me to touch you princess?” He asked, eyes finding yours and you nodded in response. “Words Y/N, come on, you know how this works. What do you want?”

“Anything Tom, I just want you to touch me.” You said as you raised your hips from the bed slightly. Tom was quick to pin them back to the mattress as he tutted at you.

“What do you think you deserve? My fingers, tongue? Certainly not my cock, not until you start behaving.”

���Your fingers.” You panted out as your hands pulled on your restraints, to no avail, you were bound tightly to the bed frame. Tom hummed in response as he traced his fingers up your figure, stopping to play with your nipple that coaxed a gasp from your lips. He tugged on the hardened bud before bringing his lips down to encase it. Flicking his tongue against it as he rolled your other nipple between his fingers.

“Fucking love these.” Tom muttered as he placed his lips at the top of your breast and sucked harshly. It caused you to squirm beneath him, the sensation going straight to your already wet core, the pleasure of finally being touched had you moaning. “Stay still.” He commanded and you tried your hardest to, using every bit of your will power to behave for him. “Good girl.” He said as he listened to your pants and moans, he pulled back after a while and looked down at you.

“All mine.” He said and you knew when you looked in the mirror you’d find his mark. He ran his fingers back down your figure, leaving a trail of fire in his wake, he’d gotten you completely riled up, you were under his control completely now and you wouldn’t have it any other way. His fingers found your entrance as he teased it, finger lightly pressing into it as he got his finger wet with your arousal.

His finger found your clit as he began to rub it in a figure eight motion, you moaned almost pathetically at the contact. Your body reacting instantly to his touch.

“Does my little brat enjoy watching me play golf?” He asked as he continued to rub your clit.

“Yes.” You moaned out as you threw your head back at the pleasure coursing through you. He slowed his movements, he was rubbing torturously slow now. He was face to face with you now, hand planted next to your head as he hovered over you, his tight golf shirt leaving nothing to your imagination. You could see everything, as his bicep bulged from the weight of holding himself up.

“Such a whore for me on the golf course aren’t you?” He asked as he slowly sped up his movements. “Bet you’d have got on your knees and sucked my cock if I’d have asked wouldn’t you?”

“Yes Tom.” You moaned out and he breathed out a laugh.

“Always so fucking needy for me when I’m playing, just can’t behave can you?” He asked and you felt your orgasm approach.

“You just look so good Tom, I can’t help it.” You moaned out and Tom continued to work you towards an orgasm. “Tom, please. I need your tongue.” You moaned as he was kissing your neck, more than likely making another mark on your skin. He moved down your body, eyes connecting with you own as he went.

“I want you to look at me. Nowhere else, me.” He demanded, his tone sending pleasure straight through you. Accent thick from how turned on he was by this point. He moved his fingers and placed his tongue around your clit as you looked down at him, not daring to break eye contact. He placed his finger inside you and groaned against your clit when he felt your walls clench around it. “Such a greedy thing, taking everything I give you.” He said as he placed a second finger into you.

Your orgasm was fast approaching, hands pulling against the restraints as you wanted to run your fingers through his hair. His eyes never left yours as he sucked and flicked at your clit, free arm pinning your hips to the bed as you squirmed beneath him. A layer of sweat was now covering your skin. You were so close.

“Tom I’m gonna- “You started but before you could finish your sentence he withdrew from you, placing kisses up your body. “Tom what?” You choked out, as he placed a kiss on your jawline and then cheek before hovering his lips over your own.

“I need a shower.” Tom spoke, breathe hitting your face and you looked up at him in disbelief.

“But Tom.” You began to protest until he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I told you not to tease me baby. I warned you, more than once and you still wouldn’t behave, this is your punishment for being a brat. Now behave whilst I shower and then we’ll see about that orgasm, yeah?” He spoke as he placed a final kiss to your lips and stood leaving you. You were so sexually frustrated by this point, a denied orgasm only adding to the feeling.

“Please Tom, don’t take too long.” You begged as you watched him open the en-suite door.

“Oh darling, I plan to take my sweet time about it.” He said as he placed the fingers that had been inside you into his mouth with a wink.

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

JJ Maybank x reader

Requested by anon // Summary: You get caught up in Ward Cameron’s games and believe there’s no way out. JJ saves the day. 

A/N: I changed up your request just a little bit. sorry for any errors. I hope you guys like it! xx 

*Warning!: There is talk of sex and prostitution throughout this story. If you’re underage or uncomfortable with that sort of thing, please do NOT read. 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

“What can I get started for you?” You ask as Mr. Ward Cameron walks up to the bar. You were hoping you wouldn’t be working the same time he comes in for golfing and a round of drinks at the country club, but shit happens.

You watch as his eyes travel down your body, “I think I’ll have my usual..” He slides over a $100 bill, “And darling, unbutton a couple more of those buttons. The men like to see cleavage.”

You gulp a little and nod, taking the bill and turning around to the cash register. You do as he says, unbuttoning the first two buttons. He was the boss man around here and everyone knew it.

You hated yourself for falling into this position, but you needed the money and well, Ward Cameron had his hands deep in money.

It happened a couple months back when he’d overheard you speaking with Kie about your money at the Country Club. Your parents both were let go from their jobs and bills were piling up. You were the only one working and you didn’t make hardly enough to sustain the bills. He approached you later that night after your shift and explained he would pay your family’s bills, along with extra cash if you’d do things for him.

You were desperate and he knew that. There were these poker nights with the wealthy men around the island, and some from surrounding states that Ward held every 3 weeks. You were to come and serve the men drinks in skimpy outfits and basically be something to look at for the men and anything else they may have wanted. It never went farther than you sitting on their laps as they play. He promised you that it wouldn’t and well, he’d kept his promise. However, it left you feeling horrible about yourself. You couldn’t back out. If you did, your family would lose everything all over again. Ward knew that and used it best to his advantage.

You turned around and began making Ward’s drink.

He nodded at you, seeing your new attire, “Very nice. Much better.” He slipped another $100 over to you, “For you.”

Your eyes glanced up at him as you slid the drink over to him and then took the bill, pocketing it and handing him the rest of his change.

“I’ll see you tonight?” He asks, taking a sip of his drink.

You nod, “Yes sir.”

“Good. I have your paycheck in my office. Come straight there first when you arrive.” He sent you a wink before turning away and heading to the outside patio.

~

It may have never went farther than you sitting on the other men’s lap, but that wasn’t the truth with Ward.

He stood in front of you as he buttoned back up his pants. You fixed your skirt and buttoned your shirt back up. “Your paycheck..” He hands over a wad of cash in an envelope.

“Thank you.” Your voice is quiet as you take the money.

He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, “The men shall be here any second. Go get the table ready.” He then steps out of his office, shutting the door behind him. You feel disgusting as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You finally turn away from the mirror, unable to look at yourself any more before walking out of the office.

~

You didn’t feel like going home and knew the pogues would be hanging out at the Chateau. You needed a break. Sending a text to your mom, you let her know you’d be at Kie’s tonight before grabbing your bag from the back. The pogues knew you were working for Ward at his poker nights and that was all. They knew nothing else. You slipped out of your car and headed to the house, stepping in you were met with the smell of weed and beer.

“Y/n!” The pogues yelled in unison, excited to see their other best friend.

“Hey guys.” You force a smile.

“Want a beer?” JJ asks, holding one out to you.

You shake your head, “I’m gonna go change first.” You head toward the spare bedroom, closing the door.

JJ is not stupid when it comes to you. He’d known you for years. He knows you like the back of his hand. Faking a smile? That’s not you. He stands from his spot on the couch and decides to make sure you’re okay. When he steps to the spare bedroom, the door was cracked. He didn’t mean to look, but he could see your reflection in the mirror. He watched as you stood, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“Disgusting.” He heard you whisper, shaking your head before slipping the shirt over your head.

You turned around and could see his peeking eyes. “JJ?”

He cleared his throat, “I wasn’t looking.” He blushed as he opened the door a little more and stepped in, “I just walked up.”

You rolled your eyes at him, letting out a little laugh as you stuffed the outfit in your bag.

“Ward still making you wear those skimpy outfits at poker night?” He walked closer to you.

You took a deep breath and nodded, “Yup.” You zip up your bag and face him. He’s watching you with concern.

“What?” You ask, annoyed.

“Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” You laugh half-heartedly, nodding, “I’m fucking fantastic.” You begin to walk by him, but he steps in front of you blocking your way.

“Don’t lie to me, y/n.” His voice is stern, “I know when something is up with you. And you haven’t been the same since you started working for Ward.”

You roll your eyes, “JJ, I’m fine. Alright?”

“Y/n.”

“JJ.” You mock, crossing your arms over your chest.

He puts his hands on your arms, making you look at him, “Y/n. Are you okay?” He stares into your eyes for a moment. You hadn’t been the same y/n since you’d began working for Ward and he could tell a difference. You were quieter, not the bubbly person you’d always been. You always had this look on your face, like the weight of the world was on your shoulders.

You can feel yourself beginning to crack under JJ’s stare. You’d never been able to hide things from JJ. He’d always figured it out or managed to break you. Your bottom lip trembling as your eyes fill with tears, “I’m fine.” You croak out.

He pulls you into his chest as you begin sobbing, “Y/n, what is going on? You know you can tell me anything..”

You shake your head, “I can’t, JJ.. We’ll lose everything.. If I tell, it’ll ruin our lives..”

“Y/n. Is Ward.. is Ward pressuring you into things you don’t want to do?” He’s angry at even the thought.

As soon as he asks, you let out a sob.

He pulls away to look at you, hands on your shoulders, “He is, isn’t he? Don’t even try to lie to me!”

You let out one small nod and all he saw was red. “I’m going to kill him.” He turns to storm out of the door, “JJ, don’t!”

He faces you, his face red with anger, “You’re not going back to work for him, you hear me?”

“JJ I have too! He’s the only thing keeping my family from losing everything!”

“How would your family feel about their daughter having sex with someone twice their age to pay their bills they can’t take care of?! This is not right!”

“What is all the screaming about?” Kie asks from the doorway, John B and Pope standing behind her.

You look at JJ with pleading eyes, “Nothing.. It’s nothing.”

JJ laughs and shakes his head, running a hand over his face, “This is fucking ridiculous...” He mutters, before storming out of the room, pushing John B and Pope out of his way. The front door slams behind him.

~

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I want out.” You say to Ward. You’d stopped by a couple days later when you knew no one would be home but him.

He looks up from his desk at you, “You want out?”

You nod, “I don’t want to do this anymore..”

He tosses his pen on the desk and stands, hands flat on the desk, “That is not an option.”

“But.. my parents found jobs, we don’t need the extra money anymore.”

He shakes his head, rounding the desk, “I say when it’s over. Not you.” He rounds the desk to you. You begin to move away, but he continues to take a step toward you until your back hits the wall. He chuckles, both of his hands against the wall on either side of your head, “I make the rules around here.” He leans in close to you, “Not you.” His face is inches from you and he takes one of his hands off the wall, slamming it against the wall next to your head.

You jump.

“Do you understand?!”

You gulp, nodding, “Y-yes sir.”

“Good..” He breaths, taking one of his hands to your throat, “Since we have some time before anyone will be home..” He holds your neck in place as he presses his lips against yours, using his body to keep you pinned against the wall. He starts to rip your clothes from your body as you squirm underneath his grip.

“Get the fuck off her!” JJ storms into the room and slams his body into Ward’s which sends the both of them flying to the ground. JJ moves on the floor to where he’s on top of Ward and sends a punch to his face. Ward struggles and fights back, punching JJ. The impact sends JJ off him and Ward is able to get the upper hand, punching JJ.

“Stop it! Stop!” You scream, trying to grab at Ward. JJ’s face is filled with blood. You frantically look around and grab the poker from next to the fire place as Ward continues to send punches to JJ’s face. Lifting the poker, you use all your strength and swing at him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

Ward is knocked off JJ, groaning. You drop the poker at your feet and rush to JJ “JJ!” You grab his arm, “JJ, get out of here.”

JJ’s groaning as you try to pull him to his feet. He leans on you as blood drips from his nose and mouth.

“you stupid bitch!” Ward lifts the poker and starts to swing at you, but a gun shot rings through the house.

You turn around to see Ward, dropping the poker and falling to the floor. Your eyes follow where the shot came from and there standing in the doorway is Sheriff Peterkin and another officer. It turns out, there was an investigation going on with the poker night and an undercover operation going on. They’d seen everything at poker night and set up cameras in Ward’s office, capturing everything they needed to put him away for a long time.

~

You sit next to JJ in the ambulance as they clean his face. You never let go of his hand as they cleaned him. Ward was hauled off to the hospital for treatment of his gunshot wound. Sadly, it hit his shoulder and he’d live.

The EMT finishes bandaging one of the wounds, “There you go..”

“Thank you.”

She nods before stepping away and going to speak with another EMT.

“How did you know where I was?” You ask standing from your seat at the back of the ambulance, facing him where he’s seated.  

“I followed you..” He looks up at you.

“You followed me?”

He nods, “I was.. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You shake your head, “JJ, are you stupid? You could have gotten yourself killed!”

He slowly stands from his seat to stand in front of you. He slips a piece of hair behind your ear and his lips slowly form a smile, “Baby, I’m stupid in love.” His hands slip to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. Your body melts into his touch and you wrap your arms around his neck. JJ Maybank, always coming to your rescue.  

All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​

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JJ Maybank taglist: @thatweirdblonde​ ,  @saltwatercowb0y​ , @popcrone818​ , @thee-sex​ , @coni-martina​ , @pm-my-hubbies​ , @timotaychalabae​ , @katiaw2​ , @maybebanks​ , @sataninsatin​ , @obx-beach​ , @fangirlvoice​ , @lolitstiana​ , @teamnick​ , @danicarosaline​ , @losers-club6​ , @bananasfromtarget​ , @jasminesuperstar123456789​ , @fratboystark​ , @notmcchkn​ ,

[eldrai]

Not Worth It

Whumptober 2021 - day 3 - prompt: insult

Character: Reid

Warnings: ableism, r-slur, brief/mild homophobia

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Spencer isn’t naïve. He is young and he looks young but he isn’t stupid. He hadn’t graduated with the expectation that because he was older, had qualifications to back him up, the world would collectively mature in kind. After all, he’d gained his relative immunity to insults because it hurt less to let them taunt him than it had to confront them and end up shoved in a locker or tied up on the football field.

He had hoped things might be different. Not expected. Not assumed.

Just hoped.

ao3 / masterlist

“—were actually invented in the early fifteenth century, though the first versions were, uh, significantly more spherical and made of a wood like beech. It’s also highly likely they used cows’ hair inside leather—”

The cop – Maciewicz – nudges the officer beside him. “Does he ever stop talking?”

Spencer is fairly sure the jab is intended to be audible. It’s an interesting social convention, that sort of insult, where everyone including the target hears it but the person who said it can’t be called out on it because they supposedly directed it at nobody in particular. Interesting, and very high-school of them: Maciewicz is closer to forty than thirty and beginning to bald, and the stale remnants of cigarette smoke follows his colleague wherever he goes.

It doesn’t offend Reid these days. Attending a public LA high school is its own distinct circle of hell but doing so at nine? University at twelve? He’s been called most names under the sun and petty insults don’t get under his skin like they used to.

Which isn’t to say they aren’t annoying.

What he hates the most is the variety of people who insult him: they all have different reactions, different sore spots, and getting them to go away isn’t a one-size-fits-all situation. Reid has dealt with enough bullies to understand that ‘ignore them and they’ll go away’ is useless, if not downright dangerous advice, but there is a whole spectrum of solutions which may or may not work. Get it wrong, and they just grow more persistent.

Spencer isn’t naïve. He is young and he looks young but he isn’t stupid. He hadn’t graduated with the expectation that because he was older, had qualifications to back him up, the world would collectively mature in kind. After all, he’d gained his relative immunity to insults because it hurt less to let them taunt him than it had to confront them and end up shoved in a locker or tied up on the football field.

He had hoped things might be different. Not expected. Not assumed.

Just hoped.

Of course they aren’t.

He pays them no mind and continues to explain the significance of the golf balls their unsub keeps leaving behind. If they didn’t want him to talk, they shouldn’t have asked for his opinion.

This seems like a fairly straightforward case and with any luck, they’ll only have to tolerate the local police department for a couple of days more.

He may have jinxed it.

(Once when they had come to take his Mom to inpatient, Spencer had overheard someone at the front desk talking lowly to someone else, and her words had stuck with him: see, that’s what you get for saying it’s quiet today!

That was always the gist of what was said on TV hospital dramas too. Police chaos isn’t all that different from hospital chaos, he thinks. There’s always too much of it and it’s unpredictable in its unpredictability.)

The curveball this time is their unsub is not a lone male but a male-female duo – he carries out the kills but under her direction. Classic submissive-dominant dynamic. The thing with pairs is they crack. Bend under the pressure until they break and lives are lost in the collateral damage.

Case in point: Marcy Edgeworth, aged twenty-four, Caucasian female, death by blunt force trauma. She is the first female victim and the first to have been left to lie where she’d died. That isn’t a good sign. No indication of sexual assault pre- or post-mortem but there is an incomplete ring of bite marks just beneath her right collarbone, exposed due to her torn shirt.

“What, never seen a naked girl before?” Jamison – Maciewicz’s colleague – mutters. Just low enough for Spencer to hear as he is trying to get on with his job, unlike a certain pair of officers.

“Woman,” he corrects, for her age, “and yes, I have.”

He hopes the lightness in his tone offsets the brusqueness. Spencer shifts his crouching into kneeling and leans forwards to examine her hair. It’s an artificial red – her roots and her eyebrows are blonde – and their previous victims have all had brown hair.

“Only counts if it’s outside a morgue,” Maciewicz chimes in.

He ignores them but their gaze burns the back of his head, and their presence has his guard raised. They stand behind him and their shadows stretch out over the grass either side of him. They’re going for a reaction, Spencer assumes.

Biting is an interesting thing without an accompanying sexual assault. If nothing else it gives them a good estimation of their male unsub’s teeth. The impression he’s getting from the scene is one of interruption, an impulse kill whose victim he had to leave too soon. It is a public park and it was an early-morning dog walker who found her – likely a jogger or someone on a night shift.

Jamison clears his throat once, twice, then taps him on the shoulder. Spencer rears away from his touch. People never ask, they just do.

“Yes?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing,” Jamison says. “I – we – we were wondering why you do that… thing.”

“What thing?” Spencer asks.

Jamison gestures. “You know, the – you know.”

Is that some sort of punchline he’s missing? Spencer glances over at Maciewicz and finds a mild amusement. Nothing to indicate he should be laughing, nor should he know what they do mean.

Maybe he’s missing the cue. He’s better at it these days, but not perfect.

“No, I don’t.”

With a furtive glance at the precinct’s captain, deep in conversation with one of the forensic technicians, Jamison sighs. “The thing with your hands, the—” He shakes his hands in an exaggerated manner.

Spencer’s hands still. He hadn’t thought it was very noticeable and more to the point, Jamison is definitely overexaggerating it like kids in middle school used to do. Only back then they had his unusual gait and meltdowns to mock too. “I don’t do that,” he says firmly.

(He’d answer it if it was a genuine question. Respectful. He loves people who ask out of genuine good intent. They are few and far between.)

Maciewicz snickers.

“Yeah, you do,” Jamison says. “I want to know why, that’s all.”

“Makes you look like a retard,” Maciewicz adds.

…and there it is.

He goes cold from head to toe. It never fails to make him feel as if someone has just dumped a bucket of water right over him, washing away his enthusiasm and excitement and everything else he values. Leaves the bare bones, the weirdness, each of the hundred ways he never quite fits in.

Spencer hates the word.

Because they don’t care about his IQ or eidetic memory or reading skill when they say that, and they don’t care after he tells them.

Nobody calls him that because they think he is. They say it to hurt him.

He wishes it wouldn’t.

Despite how often he’s heard it, he never has a response. His mind goes blank and all he can pull from it is the roots – re,from Latin: back, and tardus, from Latin: slow – as if they give a damn about etymology. As if that’s a normal person’s response. Today is no exception so it’s a blessing when Morgan wanders over.

“You got anything, pretty boy?” he asks. Maciewicz and Jamison snort. If Morgan hears it, he pays it no mind. “They found a guy’s baseball cap over there. No hair but it looks like it’s our man’s.”

And once again, his mind goes blank. Makes you look like a retard. He’d been thinking about – the bite mark, yes, what does that indicate? Spencer catches his hands moving and shoves them in his pockets before they can. “He was interrupted,” he says. “It explains why the bite isn’t complete and why he didn’t notice he’d left his hat.”

Morgan nods. “The person who found the body didn’t recall seeing anyone else around, so you think he’d just left before they got there?”

“Probably,” Spencer says. “I think the woman might be blonde. If they got into a fight, he’d be stressed, he’d be thinking about her. Maybe she reminded him of her.”

“Could be the hair, could be something else,” Morgan says. “He won’t have talked to her, not if he hit her from behind.”

“What if they did? She could have walked away—”

“Maybe,” Morgan says. “But if her hair was dyed, he wouldn’t see that unless they were up close, right? He’d initially go for her because she’s got red hair, not blonde. And if they did talk, Prentiss says no woman’s gonna just turn her back on a strange man. Especially in the middle of the night with no-one around.”

It’s a valid point, and it isn’t condescending. Nonetheless it hurts. Spencer studies the ground for a long moment and tries to forget (retard) Maciewicz and Jamison. “The unsub isn’t going to be someone he’s sexually attracted to,” he says. “He didn’t assault her, and if the victim reminds him of the other unsub, he’d probably have tried to even if someone interrupted him before he really could.”

A burst of laughter from Maciewicz and Jamison. His cheeks go hot with embarrassment—they must be talking about him, what else is there to laugh about? Morgan follows his gaze. “There a problem?” he asks.

Maciewicz holds up his hands in mock surrender. “No, no. Just… the hell is that about, ‘pretty boy’?”

Morgan shrugs. Spencer isn’t sure if it’s as casual as it looks.

“Well, makes sense,” Jamison says. “Course he’s gonna freak out over a naked girl if he doesn’t swing that way.”

…oh, great.

Spencer doesn’t mind exactly what they say as much as the implication—that they know, that they’re entitled to know his sexuality. How they say it as if gay is equivalent to bad. Once again, how utterly high school it all is. And he knows Morgan isn’t going to appreciate it either, probably more insulted on his behalf than Spencer himself.

“And you care, because...?” Morgan says, looking back and forth between them.

“I don’t,” Jamison says.

“He’s…” Maciewicz stammers, “…you know.”

“Smarter than you?” Morgan suggests. “Better at his job than you? A better person than you?”

“You don’t have to stick up for him,” Jamison says. “Must get annoying to deal with a re—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer interrupts. It isn’t. It really isn’t but it isn’t worth the conversation. How tiring it gets to deal with it, how much easier it is to walk away. These officers aren’t going to change their worldview on disabilities all of a sudden. “Morgan.”

Morgan takes in his posture, the unnatural stillness as he forces himself not to fidget, though the look in his eyes doesn’t fade. “The only people I don’t want to ‘deal with’ are both of you.”

The men share a look – not so much chastened as disappointed their fun was interrupted – but they do back off.

“They already seem to think I’m incapable,” Spencer says irritably. “I said it was fine, I didn’t need you to say anything.”

He crouches down to examine the bite again.

“It didn’t matter,” Spencer says. His hands itch and despite needing to, he can’t bring himself to move. Makes you look like a retard.

“Does if it bothers you,” Morgan insists. “And it did, don’t look at me like that.”

He sighs. They’re not even there any more, the two cops out on patrol and them revisiting the penultimate crime scene. “I’m used to it.”

“And?” Morgan says. “Just because you are doesn’t mean you have to put up with it—”

“It was five minutes at most,” Spencer points out. “Everyone else was fine.”

“Yeah, and they were dicks.”

He shrugs.

“What else did they say?”

Spencer rolls the fabric of his sweater between his fingers and feigns ignorance. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what else did they say when I wasn’t there, ‘cause they said something.”

“Makes you look like a retard.”

He doesn’t mean to say it – wasn’t sure what he had planned to say, but it certainly wasn’t that – but he says it nonetheless, his tone mimicking the disdain and irritation. And now Morgan definitely isn’t going to believe him if he says he’s fine and it’s going to make the situation worse to explain that he mostly is, he just hasn’t heard it for a while, he’s used to it.

Stupid echolalia.

“Like I said,” Morgan says, “they were dicks.”

Spencer doesn’t point out being rude doesn’t automatically mean lying. “I’ve heard worse.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t give them the right to say stuff like that.”

He rocks back on the balls of his feet. His hands aren’t co-operating but the swaying motion is a good substitute. “I’m okay.”

“You know,” Morgan says casually, “whenever you lie, you stand exactly the same way.”

Spencer looks up. The expression on Morgan’s face falls somewhere between sadness and sympathy but, he thinks, not pity. It’s a nice change.

“Kid, the only thing you’re gonna get from pretending you’re OK is worse,” Morgan says. “It’s not worth it. Not for anyone but especially not morons like that.”

“It’s not worth it,” Spencer repeats. The words catch in his thoughts and he murmurs it again and again and Morgan isn’t even slightly annoyed at him.

(It isn’t worth it—he knows this—but maybe it is. Just a tiny bit. Just for the part where he has friends who tell him things like this, who don’t mind when he’s awkward. Who don’t mind him.

Friends who say nothing about it but when they get back to the station, the pair are getting chewed out by a pissed off captain.)

A/N: I had trouble getting this to flow as well as my other ones, there's something about it I just can't figure out. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it.

[writingsbychlo]

let me down slow (05)

word count; 8368

summary; mitch finally gets to take you out on a date, and you have an important discussion, confessions from both of you.

notes; y’all are going to love this part, their date is just adorable.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, slight cum play, that’s about it.

You weren’t used to Mitch’s car pulling up in broad daylight, the middle of the day with the worry that someone might see the two of you. Either, you pulling him into the house with a fistful of whatever jumper he was wearing that day, or him taking your hand and pulling you out of your house and toward his car needily before you’d barely even had a chance to close the door.

Today, you wanted to do exactly that, but for entirely different reasons. 

You watched as he walked up the driveway, dressed a little more presentable than usual. The messy hair he often wore, and always wore so well, was styled up, freshly washed and fluffier than usual, something you suspected was up to blow-drying, instead of the slightly wavy curls that normally took over on the longer mop at the top of his head, and your fingers itched to run through the softer looking tresses. 

The skinny jeans you were used to, but his dirty sneakers had been traded for the cleanest pair of black shoes he owned, a pair you’d seen sitting in his closet, ‘rarely worn but brought out for special occasions’ he’d told you. A dark blue henley on his upper arms that clung to his chest in all the right places and you were absolutely certain he knew exactly what it was that he was doing to you, the outfit no doubt picked with care to be formal but drive you a little insane over the course of the evening. 

His jacket was slung over his arm, a lightweight black layer for later in the night, and you watched as he shuffled his arm a little, adjusting the jacket before he was disappearing from your sight, and only a second later, he was knocking at the front door. Hopping down from your windowsill, you snatched up your boots from the floor and took them with you, swiping your bag from the dresser as you passed it, and making your way down the stairs, taking a second to catch your breath before you were swinging the door open to greet him.

“Hi.” 

He grinned, eyes scanning down along your body slowly, before he was looking back up to you, his eyes twinkling a little. “You’re wearing the jumper I gave you. On our date.”

“You didn’t tell me what we were doing, so I figured I could go half and half. I’m casual with the jumper, but I figured the skirt dresses it up a bit, and then the boots can be either, so..” 

You knew you were spewing out nerve-induced rambling, but you were nervous. It was a date, with a really attractive man who for whatever reasons he had was very much into you, and you felt the same about him, and it was different to the other dates you’d been on. 

Going to dinner with someone you vaguely know is fine, because you can exchange small talk and ask questions like ‘what is your favourite colour?’ and ‘what are your plans for the future?’ but this was entirely different. If things didn’t work out with them, it didn’t matter because you weren’t losing much, but if for any reason this date went badly, you were losing Mitch, and you weren’t sure if you could handle that.

“You look beautiful.”

You let out a sigh at his words, giving him a smile, before stepping out of the doorway and letting him inside while you put your shoes on. You’d never really bothered with your outfit to see Mitch in before, because it usually ended up on the floor within a few seconds of being together. 

“I brought you something.” Glancing up from where you were doing up the laces on the front of your shoes, he shifted his jacket out of the way, the crinkling of plastic soon being followed by a small bouquet of flowers, your jaw dropping as the brightly colourful bundle was revealed to you. “Kat always used to get at me about not being romantic enough, and I know it seems like a little much for a first date, but I thought you’d like them.”

“I love them, they’re amazing.” You took them from his hands, the stare lingering between the two of you as heat crawled up his cheeks a little, and you leaned in to press a simple kiss to his cheek, before taking the collection through to the kitchen, and you heard him shuffle through to follow you. Silence hung in the air as you filled up a vase, arranging the flowers neatly within and placing it down on the counter, fingers stroking over one of the petals. “I can put them upstairs in my room later.”

He nodded, his face lighting up a little bit, but then that silence was back, and you wiggled your hands a little by your sides, opening and closing them in fists, before he was holding his own out to you, clearing his throat a little as he offered his hand, and you only hesitated for a second before placing your hand into his, fingers wrapping around his palm as he did the same to you. 

“This is tense, right? It’s not just me feeling that?”

“It’s incredibly fucking awkward.” He let out a dry laugh, but the rigidity in his body slipped away a little and he shook himself off. “I haven’t had to do the whole first date thing in like five years and it’s just.. strange. It feels weird.”

“If it makes you feel any better, there’s really nothing I can think of that would make me not want to go on a date with you, and there’s nothing that I think would make me not want to know you. We kind of have an advantage.” His brows raised a little at your words, and that same playful energy was coming back between you both, sparking at the air and changing the tension into more of a sparkling chemistry. 

“An advantage?”

“Yeah, I mean, think of it this way: you already know I’d be happy doing anything with you, even if we just drive around and get milkshakes, like other nights. Plus, you already know you’re going to get some action at the end of it, and you know I already like you. Those are like, the three big first date worries, and you’re already in the clear.”

“Y’know, I didn’t think of it that way. Can we start over then?”

“I would love that.” You promised, and he grinned, adjusting his hand in you own to lace your fingers together properly, before tugging you closer to him and bumping his nose against your own, teasing you a little as the tips rubbed together slowly, and he let out the breath he was holding in a long sigh. “Hi kitten, you look fuckin’ gorgeous.”

He leaned in, pressing his lips to your own in a slow kiss before he was bringing his other hand up to circle around your waist, pulling you up to press you into his chest, and you held onto him tightly, hands smoothing along from his forearms and up to his biceps until you reached his shoulders rubbing slowly as he let out wanton little sounds of satisfaction into your mouth, before he was finally pulling away.

“I figured we could do something casual, I didn’t want us to have to do anything too fancy, that felt like a lot of pressure.”

“I’m not a fancy kind of gal, I don’t own the kind of outfits you wear to restaurants where you have to book two months in advance and wine is only sold by the bottle and costs a month’s bills per glass.” He grinned at your words, tugging you along towards the door as you grabbed your bag, swinging it up onto your shoulder and pausing to lock the house, before letting him guide you down to the car. 

“So, what do you think about dinosaur-themed mini-golf and then going to a diner after?”

He started up the car as you buckled yourself in, your head snapping up to look at him with wide eyes and a smile that could light up a room. “Did you just say dinosaur-themed mini-golf?”

“I found this cool little place just out of town. It has miniature waterfalls, a volcano that erupts and these mechanical dinosaurs that look great.” He confirmed, and you pressed your face into your hands to mask your excitement, your whole body all but vibrating with sheer giddy thrill. He reached over to pull one of your hands down and away from your face, holding onto it tightly as he pulled your hand across to sit in his lap, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand as he held onto it tightly. “So, I’m assuming I made a good call, then?”

“The best call! Like, ever! Holy shit, I can’t wait. Can you take pictures with the dinosaurs?”

“There’s even one where you can climb up so it looks like you’re riding a t-rex. I googled it very intensely to make sure it was right.” Your jaw dropped, you hand squeezing around his so tightly you swore he’d drop it, but he just he'd on with his own strength instead.

“This is going to be the best first date in the history of first dates.” He laughed at your words, turning to look at you for only a second, before he was turning up the music, the playlist the two of you had been working on was already playing, and you settled back into the seat, the lyrics already flowing from you as you sang out the words, and he did the same.

Pulling up to ‘dino-golf’, you were already practically bursting at the seams with excitement as you hopped down and out of the car, looking around at the environment. A song that was eerily familiar to the Jurassic Park theme tune was playing out over the speakers of the carpark and you could hear the waterfalls and laughs of the other people on the course, just across the lot and on the other sides of some fences. 

The top of the volcano was visible, lighting up with orange as it rumbled lowly, clearly building up to its explosion but not having reached it yet, and Mitch made his way around to the side of the car towards you, pressing his lips to your temple and wrapping an arm around your waist. Guiding you up to the front desk, you swiped a leaflet on your way, tucking it into your bag as you moved through the lobby, and curled into his side a little, cherishing the fact that you were allowed to do so, and an intoxicating rush of excitement shot along your spine at the idea that someone was going to see the two of you together, and that it was okay.

She didn’t even blink twice, taking a payment from Mitch as he handed over his card, before giving you both the clubs from behind the desk, a paper wristband to put on and a small pencil and score sheet, before sending you over to the doors, on the other side of which you could pick out the colour of golf ball you wanted to use. Stepping out of the way of those in the queue behind you both, you balanced your club under your arm as he held the paper strip out to you with a bashful smile, and you peeled the plastic off of it and sealed it onto his skin, allowing him to do the same for you.

Stepping through the main doorways and back outside, your feet hit artificial grass, a member of staff greeting you almost immediately, and offering you a basket of multicoloured golf balls, and you picked out an orange one, matching it to the colour on your jumper, and he followed with pale blue, before you were guided in the direction of the first hole and told to follow the arrows. 

You had decided to go first, placing the ball on the marked little ‘x’ at the beginning, the first hole being simple enough and straight ahead, a little green flag sticking out of it, with a dinosaur fact printed on that you could read once you went over. It only took you two hits to get it to its destination, and you were overly proud of yourself, your ego feeling boosted, before watching Mitch swiftly do it in one, a smirk on his face as you stuck your tongue out at him, your boasting cut off. 

“Kitten, I literally got a scholarship for sports, I play lacrosse, I have an edge here.”

“You’re just irrationally good at all things involving balls.” Your words had been huffed out, before he was scooping both up from the little basket that had caught them, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in close to him.

“I don’t know, I’d say you’re pretty good with balls too. I mean, you’re certainly good with m-” His words were cut off by a laugh as you clamped a hand over his mouth, staring at him in shock, before breaking out into your own giggles, despite your attempts to hide them, and his next statement was muffled behind your hand as he spoke, the two of you moving on to the next one, and you removed your hand and allowed him to repeat himself. “I said that maybe if you’re lucky later on, I’ll let you win with some other balls.”

“Yeah, well, I always win at that game.”

You scoffed, writing down your scores onto the sheet before lining yourself up for the second shot, and before you could shoot, he was directing your gaze back to his, his mouth meeting yours for a quick but sweet kiss, that soon became deep enough that you dropped your club in order to hold onto him, his own hands dropping what they held so that he could grip your waist tightly, pulling you into him further and further until your bodies were pressed together. “I think I win that one too, because I get to be with you, and nothing tops that.”

“You’re ridiculously cheesy. What happened to the moody Mitch who barely spoke to me unless he had to, and just thought I was his brother's annoying best friend?” You flicked the tip of his nose, grinning when his face scrunched up a little, before you were pulling away to pick up all the equipment you had discarded, before someone caught up behind the pair of you and made you hurry. This was enough pressure as it was, but you couldn't deal with an audience. 

Lips brushed your ear as you lined yourself up for the next shot, and you paused, waiting to hear what he had to say and you pressed back into him a little. “He found an awesome chick, and realised that she was so much more than the girl he thought she was.”

Shaking your head fondly, you made your shot, watching as the ball went way beyond its destination, bounding off of the small wall at the other side, and you pouted, watching for where it would roll to. To your great surprise, it inched closer and closer to the hole, and seemingly seemed to slow as it approached, and for a second you thought it would stop just shy of falling in, but it didn’t, and you held your hands up in a loud cheer, turning to the man behind you to see that he was wearing an equally proud smile, holding his free hand up to high-five you upon making the shot. 

“I knew you could do it. You’re a pro, already.”

“You’re going to jinx it.” Your words came out in a sing-song tone as you walked over to the other side, watching as he took his own shot, perfectly making it on the first try, and you wondered if he was going to make every shot a hole-in-one. 

The two of you moved on, and around the tenth hole of the course, he caved to your asks to help, the insists that you should do it alone to feel proud were dropped the second you pouted and bent over a little further than necessary, you skirt riding up at the back, and he was more than happy to stand behind you and help you adjust your aim and stance if it meant that nobody else would be seeing anything that he deemed for his eyes only. Not that it gave much assistance to your skill, you were still all over the place with the pressure of your swings and the angles you hit at, but you had fun, and that was all that mattered.

It was also incredibly enthralling to watch Mitch each time, once you had notice the way his fingers flexed instinctually around the metal pipe, or the way his eyes narrowed a little bit when he prepared to shoot, the way he nibbled on his lip in concentration and how the veins in his arms that drove you wild were flashed to you when he pushed his sleeves up to his elbows halfway around. He was like a walking work of art, and he didn’t even know it.

He didn’t make every shot the first time, but he never exceeded needing more than four, even on the rounds that were taking you over ten hits to achieve each time, and he rewarded you with mumbled praises each time you got it, the open affections being something you knew you could find yourself getting used to. You liked not having to hide with him now, you liked that when you noticed another girl’s gaze lingered on him that you could lean in and press a kiss to his lips that he would reciprocate without question, or that when he did something that made your heart flutter a little bit, you could take his hand in you own and he would hold onto you tightly.

All you had wanted for so long was to have someone to give your love to, who would give it back and more, and now you felt like you’d finally found that. You watched the volcano erupt on the hour, water pouring from it and made to look orange by brought lights that shone underneath and out from the base, and you took a picture in front of it, the sky behind you lit up with shades of orange and the drops of water that had fired into the air raining down around you. You took pictures with all of the animations, and with Mitch, and a fair few of him while he wasn’t looking, a collection you could save for yourself, the small and genuine smiles he got each time you cheered him on for getting the shot, or when he was watching you make your own, not realising there was a camera on him while his eyes were on the ball.

A wave of sadness flashed over you at the idea that you couldn't post the images anywhere, you couldn’t profess your adoration for him to the people who really mattered, to your friends and family, without fear of it getting back to Stiles before you were ready to tell him, but at least you had them, the memories of the two of you to be saved forever to your phone, until the day came for you to either delete them, or share them with the world. You really did hope it was the latter choice that would come into play.

It was near the end of the course that you found the giant t-rex that you could take pictures atop of, and he chuckled at the gasp of excitement you let out, your hand finding his upper arm as you squeezed excitedly, and the next few holes seemed to simultaneously drag on while flying by, and you knew you’d completely bombed on all three of them, but you couldn’t help it, and your scores weren’t going to be winning any prizes anyway. Upon reaching the base of it, you peered around the back, finding a set of steps that you could climb up to reach the top, before turning around to look at the man before you, and he waved his phone at you, already out and on the camera app as he prepared to snap the picture of you. 

“Get on up there, I’ll get a good shot.” You turned to look back at it, humming under your breath as you stared up at the giant statue,

“You think we can get someone else to take it, baby? I want us both on it.” When you didn’t get a reply from him, you turned around to find him staring at you intently, and your brows shot up in silent question. “You don’t have to take a picture with me up there, I just thought it would be fun i-”

“You called me ‘baby’.”

You paused, looking at him for a second to face him more fully, before clearing your throat and trying to ignore the blush rising on your cheeks at the pet name you’d barely even processed having said, the word just slipping out with the sentence. 

“That’s the first time you’ve ever given me a nickname.” He pressed in close to you, cupping your cheeks and pressing an eager and passionate kiss to you lips that had you melting into him as he laughed breathlessly into your mouth at the way you repeated it to him, the exchange intimate and private and utterly perfect given the timing, before he was resting his forehead against your own and taking quick puffs of breath. “I absolutely want to take a picture on that fuckin’ dinosaur with you, let me just go and give someone my phone.”

He was dashing away from you a second later, jogging down towards a couple on the next course, and you made your way up the steps to the little platform out of photo-sight behind it. There was a ledge to sit on, definitely only designed for one person, but you’d make it work, you were determined too, and after a few moments, he was appearing at the top of the steps beside you, eyes locking on the small seat.

“Huh.”

“We can make it work.” He nodded, navigating himself around you until he was sitting on it, before guiding you down into his lap, the two of you positioning until you were squeezed onto the chair, but fit comfortably, looking down at the woman standing with the phone at the base, taking a few steps back to get it all fitted in for you, before she was shooting you a thumbs up. The man with her, whom you assumed to be her husband from the playful way they bickered over the angle, held up his fingers in a count down for you both, and you smiled widely, holding your hands up in the air above you as the picture was taken. 

She took a few more, before others were waiting for their chance to get a picture, and so you stepped down from it, thanking the two of them when they handed the device back, and they headed back over to their own section of the course to continue their game, and you did the same, but not before looking through all of the shots and choosing the ones that were your favourites, each of you sharing the photos from your device with each other, until you had copies of every shot from throughout the evening.

Once you reached the end, you were adding up your scores, finding that Mitch had less than a quarter of what you did, the staff member at the end informing you that he may actually have broken a record and that he would be put on the leaderboard if he asked at front desk, and you were absolutely determined to make sure he did. 

It turned out he had, and was now being placed as third on the Top Ten board they had out, giving you a mock glare as he filled out a little form with his score, and his name on, and some details for next time while she printed him off a certificate from the machine. You looked around the waiting room, finding a photobooth tucked into the back with Jurassic themed greenscreen backgrounds, fishing into your purse for extra change as you stood near it pushing the coins into the machine and selecting your background choice, but not starting up yet. 

He came walking back over, face a little red as he gripped his certificate and had a badge in his hand that said ‘I am a dino-golf legend’ on, and you cracked up at the sight of it. He rolled his eyes, opening your bag where it hung at your side hiding the piece of paper and the plastic award inside. 

“You are the absolute worst.” He grouched, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, laughing lightly, and he continued to frown at you, but wrapped his own around you in return, tipping his head to the side when you leaned in to kiss at his cheek, and you felt the pull of the skin indicating he was smiling, even if he did pretend to be mad. “I did get a voucher though, we get free entry next time.”

“Next time?”

“If you want to come again, that is.” He showed you the waxed piece of paper, before adding that to those in your bag and sealing it up, accepting the kiss you gave him as you nodded. 

“I would love that. But, before we leave this time, we have to take photobooth pictures. It has backgrounds.”

“Backgrounds, huh? Can’t miss that.” He crowded you into the box, and arm over your shoulders as you pressed into his sides, and you clicked go on the machine, the countdown beginning as you posed. It was exactly as romantically cliché as you’d hoped. You posed for the first two, before feeling his nose nudging at your cheek in the third, and his hand on your jaw turning your head to the side for a kiss at the camera click went off. 

The sounds of cogs turning and photo developing sounded out, but with the curtain pulled and a moment of privacy to yourselves, you allowed yourself to press back into him a little deeper, your tongue dipping out to play with his before he even had to ask, the lingering taste of mint on his tongue, and you were more than happy to indulge in it, letting yourself get lost, until you heard the click of the photos dropping down to be collected, and you forced yourself to pull back from him. 

Pushing back the curtain and climbing out, you grabbed the set of four, holding it up to show him as he followed behind you, the two of you making your way back towards the car as you observed the pictures you’d taken.

“Look at that, now we’ve made out in a Triassic jungle. Don’t you feel accomplished?”

“You’re such a little weirdo, I love it.” He muttered, nuzzling at your temple before holding open the car door for you and letting you hop up and inside. You pushed the picture card into a piece of the framework on the dash, watching it hold steady, and brushing your fingers over the plain bit outside of each frame, loving the way it sat there, making it all feel a little more personalised. “Can I keep them?”

“Yeah, you can keep them in your car, or your wallet, or whatever.” You waved at them, strapping yourself in and watching as he sat up enough to pull his wallet from his pocket, before selecting them. Tearing the paper in half, he tucked the final two into his wallet, leaving the first two goofy ones up in the place you’d left them, showing it to you with a grin. 

“How about both?”

“I can’t believe you’ve got a picture of us in your wallet, that’s deep.” You teased, and he thumbed at them adoringly before putting it away and digging out his keys instead, starting up the car. 

“So, you hungry?”

When Mitch had said diner, he really meant it. It wasn’t the city kind of diner that was more like a restaurant, the ones that pretended to be but actually had an elite menu with four courses and everything you’d expect from someone fancy, but this was a diner.

It had a small menu that mostly consisted of greasy and fast to cook foods, a range of breakfast meals that could be served at any time of the day, and it still had a sixties theme lingering about it despite the efforts to redo it, the history was still shining clear underneath. It was perfect, everything from the checkered floor to the leather booths, you were loving it, settling down happily to pour over the menu and decide what you wanted to eat.

“The burgers here are amazing. I always stop here for food when I’m on my way too or from college.”

“You stop here? It’s only, like, an hour out of town.”

“Best food for miles, though, and it’s just kind of a tradition now. Maybe in fall, we’ll be driving together, and I can share it with you.” He reached out across the table, taking your hand in his and pulling it across the table towards him, your other hand coming up to hold onto his as well, and you laced your fingers together, menus temporarily forgotten.

“Have you ever shared your tradition with anyone else?”

The question hung heavily between you both, and the movement of his thumb over the back of your hand paused for a second as he looked at you, swallowing thickly and ducking his eyes for only a second. “I’ve never brought anyone here before. Everything I do with you is totally brand new, I promise.” You let out a relieved breath, nodding for a second, and he stood up, leaning over the table to press a kiss to your lips before sinking back down into his seat, and taking his menu in both hands. “You’re not a replacement, or a substitute for her. I like you for you, and I wasn’t looking to get feelings for someone else while I came home but I did, and I like that you and me happened while I was being myself, so I don’t have to pretend with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, even if he didn’t look up at you as he said those words but you knew he was hanging on your response, and you stretched your feet out under the table, nudging your foot was his and tangling your legs together. “Just so you know, you’re not a replacement for what I felt for your brother.”

“Felt, or feel?”

The question felt like a punch to the gut, and he looked at you for only a second, a thousand different emotions flashing through his eyes before he cleared his throat a little, looking down at his menu and leaving the silence hanging thickly in the air between you both. You were still staring at him, lost and confused and looking like a deer caught in headlights, and you were still a little frozen from the question, feeling like there was stone weighing you down from the inside out.

The waitress came over to take your orders, and you had no idea what you wanted, Mitch listing off what you assumed or be his usual with ease, and he looked at you, your eyes directing down to your menu to avoid his, before you barely managed to choke out what you wanted, giving the woman a polite smile before she was moving away to get your drinks, and you finally looked back up at him.

“Mitch, I really like you. Like, more than I‘ve ever liked anyone other than Stiles. It’s different now, with you. You make me feel different, you make me feel everything I never thought I’d get back. The way I feel about you is nothing like the way I feel about him. It’s exciting, and new, and you want me back, an-” Your voice cracked as you spoke, and he stood up from his side, rounding the booth and cupping your face in his.

“Kitten, please don’t cry. I’m not mad at you, I’m really not.” He shushed you quietly as tears welled up in your eyes, and he kissed at your cheeks delicately, letting you calm your racing heart. “Don’t cry on our first date, I don’t want that to be what we look back on.”

“I’m sorry, Mitch.”

“Don’t be sorry, he was your first love, and that’s always hard to forget. I may not be in love with Katrina anymore but she’ll always hold a place in my heart, and I suspect my little brother will hold that for you, too.” He tipped your chin up, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips, and breaking away when two glasses were placed down on the table before you both, and he pulled your soda over to you, prompting you to take a sip.

“I have such an amazing time with you, every single time.”

“I know, sweetheart. I feel the same.” He tucked some hair behind your ears, letting you curl into his side as his arm wrapped around you, and he let you press your face into his neck, soothing yourself with the warmth of his skin and the smell of his cologne, the familiar and unique way it made you feel when he held onto you. “Just tell me I have a chance, okay? I don’t think I could handle competing to make you fall in love with me, if you’re already in love with him.”

You let out a breathless laugh, nodding slowly and pulling away to hold onto his face, pressing your forehead to his as the unshed tears began to clear from your eyes. “You have a really good chance, Mitch. Like, a sure thing. You have the game rigged.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.” His eyes lit up at the use of the pet name once again, and he leaned down, connecting your mouths in a kiss deeper than any you had shared before, expressing everything that you weren’t saying but confirming everything that you had.

When the food arrived, the mood had cleared, and the two of you ate happily together. He remained on your side of the booth, the two meals becoming shared as he tempted you to try some of his and stole some of yours, your plates pushed up together and your meals shared, until the plates were empty and you were both stuffed, slouched in the booth with your hands held and mumbled words shared.

When he went to the bathroom, you jumped at the chance to pay the bill, wanting to share the costs together and treat him just as much as he liked to treat you. When the table was clear of plates and waitress handing you a receipt when he came back out, he shook his head, but was biting the inside of his cheek to contain his smile, and he took both of your hands in his, pulling you up to your feet and thanking you server as he pulled you out of the door, the bell jingling overhead.

“How am I supposed to treat you and win you over if you buy dinner?”

“That would be called buying me, which makes it prostitution, and I’ll put out for you anyway.” He poked at your sides, growling in your ears a little as he pulled you back into his chest by the waist, and he nipped at your ear lightly. “Besides, you won me over the day you looked after me during my period, even though you didn’t get anything for it.”

“I got to spend the whole day with you, didn’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him away a little but connecting your hands before he got too far, the two of you stumbling along as the night began to set in, the sunset painting a pretty picture across the horizon. He dragged you in close until your bodies were pressed together, just the two of you wrapped up in one another beside the car, the world slipping away for just a moment. “Do you want to go for a walk along the edge of the preserve?”

“I would way rather take you home, while we still have a few hours to ourselves, and take our time as I have my way with you.” Your jaw dropped as his lips brushed your own with every word, but he pulled back, shrugging his shoulders casually. “But, if you want to go for a walk, we can do that, I guess.”

“You’re right, let’s go home.”

“No, no, no.” He sighed, trying to pull you away from the car, a shit-eating grin on his face, and you dug your heels into the ground to hold yourself still. “You wanted to go for a walk, so let’s do it.”

“If you take me home right now, I’ll blow you when we get there.”

“Sold. In the car, kitten.” He was singing a different tune from the second you’d said the words, slapping at your ass cheekily as he encouraged you up into the vehicle, before getting in himself. The drive was fairly short all things considered, but it still felt like it dragged on for an eternity, the lingering touches you shared and the longing glances being something that only teased the pair of you further and further.

Stumbling into the house consisted of messy and wet kisses, tongues tangling visibly and moans pouring out into the air as you tripped up the stairs in a bid to reach his room while pawing at one another desperately. Making your way along the halls, you fell through the door, your hands tugging that dark blue henley up and over his head, his arms raising to allow you too.

He was pulling at your skirt, yanking it down your legs as you messed with his belt, yanking it from the loops and dropping it to the floor as he stopped the movements of his mouth along your neck, snapping away to peer down at the panties you had one, a loud sound bubbling up from his throat. “Black lace panties, does the bra match?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You lifted your arms up, and he peeled the jumper off of your body, the matching top half being revealed to him as he threw away the rest of your clothes, and you stood before him, in nothing but lingerie and heeled boots. “So, you like?”

“I’ve never seen you wear these before. You’ve been hiding them from me.”

“They’re special, it’s my super pretty date underwear. You earned it today.” You smoothed your hands up his chest, his eyes blown wide with lust and practically black, before taking a handful of his hair and pulling his mouth back down to clash with your own. While he was distracted with your mouth, you were able to pop the button on his jeans, slipping your hand underneath to palm at him through his boxers, his hard cock pressing into your hand and throbbing with each rub.

His own hands were cupping your cheeks, hips rolling into your hand as your other clung to his waist, and he nipped at your lower lip when the burn for oxygen became too much. Kissing along his neck, he tipped his head back, letting you suck and nip along his throat, before your tongue was dragging between the defined lines of his muscles to lick down across his chest and stomach, before settling on your knees.

Brushing his fingers through your hair, he beamed down at you, watching as you tugged his jeans and his boxers to sit around his ankles, his cock springing up and pointing out towards your face. Dragging the tip of your tongue along him, from the base to the tip, before lapping at the slit that was leaking precum out onto his skin.

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees for me. Even better when you let me fuck your pretty mouth. Open up for me.”

You did as told, your jaw dropping open and he slipped his cock between your lips, groaning out as the wet heat of your mouth surrounded him entirely. He pushed in until you were gagging, before he set a slow and steady pace once your lips sealed around him. His fingers were pulling at your hair as he continually tried to smooth back the strands so that he could see your face. He loved the way your lips would stretch around his cock, he loved the way you looked when your eyes watered and spit drooled from your mouth with every thrust he delivered to you.

He liked to take care of you, but Mitch was truly filthy in his own ways. Gripping at his thighs, your nails were digging into his flesh as you forced yourself further down, pressing past your gag reflex as far as you could go, and his legs trembled under your hands, his eyes wide as you pulled back to drag in deep and gasping breaths, and you licked along his shaft, before taking the tip back between your lips once again. Focusing your attention there, you swiped your tongue along the underside, loving the noises you knew how to drag from him, and the reactions you knew how to get out of him.

“Tell me what you want, tell me how you want me.”

He groaned out at the prompt, his mouth dropping open and beginning to spill his thoughts without a filter as you went back to bobbing along his shaft slowly. “I want to fuck you slow and deep tonight, not our usual quick and frantic hookups. I need you to know how much you mean to me tonight, and I need to know you feel the same, so I want to fuck you until you’re begging me for more, begging me to make you cum. I want to watch you unravel, I want you to remember that I’m the one who drives you wild, I’m the one who knows how to take care of you.”

You stilled, looking up at him through your lashes, the words you wanted to speak so badly to him were right there, but you didn’t want this to be how you said it at first, you didn’t want to tell him what you wanted to say until you didn’t have to hide it.

You didn’t want to say it until you knew you were completely and utterly his. Instead, you rose back up, letting him kick off the rest of his own clothes as you slipped off your boots and made your way over to the bed, dragging him with you by both of his hands.

“Show me how much you want me.”

He slipped a hand up behind you, unhooking the latch on your bra and peeling it away down your arms. He cupped your tits in place of the fabric, thumbs dragging over your already pebbled nipples and the sparks shot along your body, your back arching up into him, but he pushed you back with a wicked grin, letting you fall back onto the bed and bounce with the mattress.

“Just gonna’ throw me around like that?” You teased, but lifted your hips, anyway, when he made to peel your panties from your legs, and he threw them away over his shoulder, crawling up the bed toward you as you moved away from him and he wrapped a hand around your ankle, pulling you back down towards him to trap you underneath himself.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

“Touché.” He nodded at your submission, before he was dipping down and taking a nipple between his teeth to tug on it, pulling it away from your chest and scraping his teeth across it before he let go, and you could feel yourself becoming undone with every touch he gave to you. Lining himself up, his hips rocked into you slowly, thrusting up slowly until he was fully sheathed within your tight heat, and you looped your arms under his own to grip tightly to his body.  

His chest was pressed to yours, and he set a slow rhythm, fingers clenched in the bedding beside your head as he began to drag in and out of you slowly, and you rolled your hips up to meet him. The usual rapid and bruising collisions of your bodies was changed tonight, it was emotional and passionate and you let out a sob of pure need at the feel of it, overwhelming as he showed you what it meant to be loved.

Your nails were tearing streaks down his back, your throat raw from crying out his name each time he hit against your sweet spot perfectly, every time his skin dragged over yours in a way so erotic you felt yourself flooding around him. He was working his mouth over your body, no patch of skin left untouched by his mouth, covered with kisses or trails of his tongue, as he made sure to worship you in the way he had promised to do. You had never felt this way before, not even with the way he held you when you weren’t fucking, or the way he held you were, but this was a connection on a whole new level.

Locking your hips around his waist, you flipped him over, sinking back down onto him as he gripped at your hips and let you rock your body down onto him. Sitting up to meet you, his mouth found yours, and your movements slowed until you were simply circling in his lap, his hips twitching up the occasional urge to meet your own, but other than that you were both still. The only movements shared were the grasping of wandering hands and the swirling of your tongues between lazily dancing lips.

“You are my world right now, do you know that?”

“Jesus Christ, how does your soft talk affect me more than your dirty talk?” He cursed out as you clenched around him, laying back in the pillows and dragging you with him so that he could fuck up into you with as much power as he could. You cried out, your eyes rolling back in your head and colours exploding around you as everything in your life seemed to fall into place as an orgasm more meaningful and memorable than any you’d had before came crashing over you, leaving you a trembling and quivering mess in his arms. “Fuck! You’re so tight!”

“Don’t stop! Please, just don’t stop.”

You were gasping for breath, riding back onto his cock as the stimulation overwhelmed you but the orgasm building up within you for a second time was undeniably stronger, and you could no longer form words, screams leaving you in desperate begs as you hurtled over the edge, and pulled out of you quickly, cum splattering across your stomach and tits, painting your skin with his arousal as he bit down on his lower lip to muffle the noises that he was making.

Your body collapsed down on top of his, uncaring of the cum splattered across your body as you dropped down onto him, and it seemed he didn’t care either, because he wrapped his arms around you and rolled you over so that his body was sprawled out atop your own. You were both fighting for breath, sweaty and dirty and perfectly content as you curled up in his arms. Tears came to your eyes as you snuggled into him, and you pressed your face into his shoulder, sniffling a little as he brushed a hand over the back of your head, twisting his head to kiss your temple.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I’m just so happy here, with you, right now.” You didn’t bother to lie, and he pulled back long enough to press a collection of longing kisses to your lips.

“You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve been this happy, and you did that.” He pushed himself up from the bed, and waddled away for a moment to the bathroom, before returning with a clean chest and a washcloth, wiping over your skin and pressing kisses to each clean patch. Once he was done, he disposed of the cloth and his old clothes into the wash basket, folding yours as he placed them on his desk and kicking his bedroom door shut, lest anyone in his family come home early and see you both.

Crawling up the bed beside you, he collapsed down into the pillows, letting out a low groan of satisfaction and relief, and snuggling down into his own pillows as the two of you lay in companionable silence together, regaining your clarity as the sex-drunk haze cleared up a little.

“Will you stay?”

“What about your dad, or Stiles?” You whispered, and he rolled onto his side, brushing some sweaty hair out of your face and pecking your lips sweetly.

“I’ll lock the door, won’t let anyone in. Give you some of my clothes to wear, sneak you out in the morning.” You remained still, nibbling on your lip as you contemplated it, before sighing and nodding, a gentle smile offered to him.

“Fine, but only if you let me wear those really soft-looking black sweatpants with the crocodile on the pocket.” Your bargain was well received, because he nodded, waving in the direction of the drawer, before pulling you back into his arms.

“You got it.”

[macrogolf12]

Perfecting Your Form: The Essence of Ergonomic Golf Swing

In the pursuit of an ideal golf swing, the Ergonomic Golf Swing has emerged as a transformative approach, reshaping the way golfers approach and execute their swings. Let's delve into the world of Ergonomic Golf Swing, exploring its principles, benefits, and the impact it has on refining the golfing experience.

A Revolution in Swing Dynamics

Ergonomic Golf Swing transcends the conventional, offering a revolutionary approach to the golf swing. The term "Ergonomic" emphasizes the importance of form and efficiency, focusing on a swing that is not only effective but also considers the biomechanics of the human body. This approach has garnered attention for its potential to optimize performance while minimizing strain on the golfer.

The Fundamentals of Ergonomic Golf Swing: Prioritizing Body Mechanics

At the core of Ergonomic Golf Swing is a commitment to prioritizing body mechanics. Traditional swings often neglect the natural ergonomics of the human body, leading to strain and inconsistency. This innovative approach encourages golfers to align their swing with the body's natural movements, creating a more comfortable and sustainable golfing experience. By optimizing biomechanics, the Ergonomic Golf Swing seeks to enhance both performance and overall well-being.

Benefits of Ergonomic Golf Swing:

The advantages of adopting the Ergonomic Golf Swing are multifaceted. By emphasizing proper body mechanics, golfers can achieve a more balanced and efficient swing. This not only contributes to improved shot accuracy but also reduces the risk of injuries associated with repetitive or strained movements. Embracing the ergonomic principles of this swing may lead to a more sustainable and enjoyable golfing experience, promoting longevity in the game.

Making the Transition: Shifting to Ergonomic Golf Swing

Transitioning to the Ergonomic Golf Swing requires an understanding of its principles and a commitment to refining your swing technique. While it may involve a period of adjustment, the long-term benefits in comfort and performance make it a worthwhile endeavor. Golfers often find that aligning their swing with ergonomic principles not only enhances their game but also contributes to an overall sense of well-being on and off the course.

Perfecting Your Form: Ergonomic Golf Swing Tips and Techniques

For those eager to perfect their Ergonomic Golf Swing, specific tips and techniques can significantly contribute to success. Focus on maintaining a neutral spine position throughout the swing, allowing for optimal engagement of the body's natural ergonomics. Additionally, pay attention to grip pressure, wrist alignment, and overall posture to ensure that each element of the swing aligns with the core principles of the Ergonomic Golf Swing. Regular practice and a commitment to refining these techniques will contribute to a more comfortable, efficient, and effective golf swing over time.

Conclusion:

The Ergonomic Golf Swing stands as a transformative approach to mastering the golf swing. Its emphasis on form, efficiency, and biomechanics has resonated with golfers seeking a more sustainable and enjoyable experience on the course. Whether you're a seasoned professional or a novice, embracing the principles of the Ergonomic Golf Swing offers a pathway to refining and perfecting your swing. Step onto the course with confidence, knowing that you've unlocked the secrets of a more comfortable and efficient golf swing with Ergonomic Golf Swing.

[ptergwen]

last christmas | pt. 2

❆ series masterlist ❆

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: one suggestive joke and a couple of angsty moments

a/n: yo i forgot that harry was actually in this movie as an extra? that’s kinda funny to me but anyways pls send requests (ik it’s annoying i keep asking i’m just so bored y’all help) and enjoyyy

━━━ *:･。.

today feels better than most days. the throbbing headache you usually wake up with isn’t there. plus, you have your date with tom later. it still feels surreal to say that. it still feels surreal he’s your friend’s brother, and you only found out three days ago.

you throw on some sweats and head into the living room. your roommate alex is in front of the tv with a bowl of cereal. she puts it down, the spoon making an obnoxiously loud clink. you’re sensitive to sound, so you unintentionally wince.

“sorry, y/n/n. i thought you had the day off, no?” she asks, lowering the tv for your sake. you smile at the gesture and go to grab your coat. “i do. i just wanna get breakfast.” “we have stuff here,” alex reminds you and picks up her cereal for emphasis. she’s careful not to drop the spoon this time. laughing to yourself, you shrug into your coat.

“i’ll pass. i wanted to say hi to harry, anyway.” “right, tonight’s the night.” she turns her head towards you and smirks. “you’re shagging his brother.” your eyes go comically wide. “no i’m not! he’s taking me out somewhere,” you defend and button up your coat as fast as you can. it’s time to get out of here.

“i’ll make plans just in case,” alex calls out as you shuffle to the door. “yeah, bye!” you shout back. you planned on asking if she wanted anything, but you were too distracted. oh well.

━ ❆

the café isn’t too crowded when you get there. harry is on register, so he’s probably in a good mood. he eyes you curiously when you step up. you give him a big smile.

“you’re not in today,” he says quietly, pushing up the santa hat he’s wearing. you stifle a laugh. you’re all supposed to dress up festively, but you don’t. your manager made an exception. one of your co workers is watching harry, so he fixes the hat. it’s not done without a long exhale.

“i’m here for coffee,” you explain and glance up at the menu. harry squints at you. “you couldn’t have gone anywhere else?” feigning offense, you put your hand on your chest. “why, you don’t want to see me?” “when you’re supposed to be home resting, no.” he taps a button on the register. “what can i get you?”

“first of all, i have a date later. that won’t be happening,” you tell him smugly. he would try to act annoyed, but he’s honestly happy for you. tom, too. “can i have an iced coffee with liquid sweetener? please?” harry raises an eyebrow. “room for milk?” “sure,” you almost chirp. he can’t help but grin.

“i haven’t seen you this happy the whole time i’ve known you,” he mumbles while punching in your order. your smile fades into a concerned grimace. “is that okay, do you think?” harry looks up at you again. “why wouldn’t it be?” “because, i mean, it’s only one date. it could end up going no where.”

you lean over the counter so you can talk quieter. “what would i be happy about then?” “excuse me?” a woman interrupts your conversation louder than necessary. you’re trying to search harry’s face for an answer, but he doesn’t give you one. “one second, sorry,” he apologizes to the customer. you stand up right again.

“tom wouldn’t do all this if he didn’t feel something,” harry nearly whispers while you get out your money. you read your total befofe he could tell you. you let your hand linger in his when you hand him the cash. “you’ll have more than one night of happiness. you deserve it.”

you’re starting to get a bit emotional, so you pull your hand back. you nod and manage a small smile. “thank you, harry. really.” “you’ll let me know how it goes?” he checks. “tomorrow, yeah. have a good shift.” you give him a finger wave and go off to get your coffee. he waves back.

━ ❆

tom gets a text from harry a few minutes after you leave.

y/n is really special. don’t be a div tonight.

he scoffs at his phone and shuts it off. your smile pops into his mind then. he only got to see it once, but he can’t seem to forget it.

harry is right. you are really special, and he better not mess this up.

━ ❆

you and tom decided on eight for your date. he’s meeting you outside your place because wherever you’re going is in walking distance. you bundle up accordingly in your fluffiest jacket and some earmuffs. you’ve never worn them before, but they’ll be your best friend tonight. they’re also cute. this is the time to be cute.

tom buzzes to let you know he’s there at eight sharp. his punctuality is kind of a surprise. you don’t know much about the real him, but this is rare from what you’ve gathered. you tell him you’re coming and hop out the door.

the thing alex said earlier does cross your mind, and she did leave you the apartment. never mind all of that. you try to think of anything but that before you get outside.

“hey,” tom greets as you walk down the stairs. he grins playfully at your attire. “you look cozy.” “you don’t.” he’s wearing a thin black jacket with a flannel underneath. it’s not ideal for the middle of winter in london. a smug smile pulls at your lips.

“you’re gonna walk in that?” you gesture to his outfit, moving so you’re next to him. he hums. “i’ll let you tease me for it the whole way there.” the two of you start walking side by side. it doesn’t take long for you to fall into step. “the whole way? how far is it?” you raise an eyebrow.

“twenty minutes maybe? it can’t be too bad. we have loads to talk about,” tom says rather suggestively. you look over and he’s smirking. there’s never a dull moment with this man. that’s actually just what you need right now. “true. you start,” you prompt him, your arm brushing against his. “tell me all about you.” he leans closer to you instinctively.

“well, i’m an actor. obviously,” tom shrugs like it’s no big deal, making you laugh quietly. he really likes your laugh. “besides that. like, what do you do when you’re not acting?” you ask, eyes fixed on him. he’s so pretty under the streetlights. all the time, really. “this is so boring, but i love golf. i’m rubbish, though,” he says the second part under his breath.

“and i thought you were good at everything,” you tease, tom faking a frown. “no, but seriously. it’s probably nice to do some regular stuff when you can.” he exhales in a way that seems reflective. “exactly, i like having some separation. what about you?” “what do i do when i’m not acting?” you ask sarcastically. “sure,” he plays along.

you think about it while you turn the corner. tom watches you intently, like you’re about to say something actually interesting. you’re not. “not much anymore.” he’s about to ask what you mean by anymore, but you keep going. “i took a gap year from uni, so i’ve been getting that sorted,” you continue, looking up at the dark sky. this isn’t your favorite discussion.

“makes sense. what are you studying?” also not your favorite discussion. “i’m undecided. i was thinking about psychology, but...” you search for something, anything you can to change the subject. the first thing you see is the first thing you mention. “your ears are bright red right now,” you giggle and point at one. tom presses his hands to them, feeling how cold they are.

“damn, you’re right,” he gives in to your conversation from earlier. without thinking about it, you pull your earmuffs off. you put them around his head instead. they’re pink with white snowflakes on them. tom looks cuter with them than you do, you think. “here. these should make them a normal color.”

“aw, but i don’t want you to be cold,” he protests and goes to take them off. you grab his hand before he can. “i’m not.” grinning, he properly takes your hand in his. your fingers lace together like you’ve held hands a million times. he lets them drop between you two and keeps leading the way to your mystery spot.

you swing your hands back and forth, smiling when you feel his grip tighten. tom pats one of the earmuffs. “i think we’ll both be warm once we get there.” “where exactly is ‘there’?” you laugh out. it was supposed to be a surprise, but you have to know. he points at something straight ahead. you’re still too far to see it.

“yeah, i can’t tell what that is,” you confirm. his reply is a satisfied hum. “good. let me keep you in suspense for at least five more minutes.” “you’re cheeky, aren’t you?” he chuckles and swings your hands again. “i’ve been told.”

you two finally end up at a hot chocolate stand. there are white lights strung in the trees surrounding it, music playing quietly into the night. the atmosphere welcomes and comforts you as soon as you get on line.

“i figured it would be nice to get one of these rather than making them for a change,” tom fills you in. he seems unsure of it now that you’re here, his voice lower than before. harry’s text is replaying in his head. he wants this to be good enough, more than good enough. should he have planned something more? his nerves die down when you squeeze his hand in yours.

this is the perfect low pressure date you’d hoped for. the focus is on each other and not some fancy meal. you were right about the movies not changing tom. “this place is really cute. i like it.” you move up on line together. “and my hot chocolates kind of suck, so yeah. it is.” “no, i bet they’re delicious,” he reassures you with one of his famous eye crinkling grins.

you chat more about your barista skills and all the kitchen disasters harry has had to save you from. the story of the time you made foam explode all over the countertops has him giggling. his laugh is contagious, so you end up joining in. your laughter eventually quiets because it’s your turn to order.

“hi, we’ll have two large hot chocolates?” tom orders for you two. you shoot him a curious look. “large? i’ll never finish.” the sizes here are huge, which is part of their gimmick. it’s also why tom found it interesting. the joke is that the stand itself is small, but they have gigantic drinks.

“leftovers, then.” he winks at you. you’re disappointed you have to let his hand go while he pays. the cashier says your drinks will be ready shortly. tom thanks him and turns back to you. “you probably got in so much trouble, huh?” he asks about your work horror story. you look him over for a few seconds.

you’re shocked how genuinely interested he is in everything you tell him. there are much cooler things he could be talking about, but he wants to hear from you. it makes you feel like there’s something between you two already. like, you’re old friends or soulmates or anything bigger than two strangers on a first date.

even though it’s still early to tell, you definitely have a connection of some kind.

“nope. i’m better at cleaning than i am at making cappuccinos,” you remark, the cashier coming back with two large hot chocolates. tom hands you yours first. he takes his after. “thank you so much,” he tells the man again. “have a nice night,” you add. the two of you take your drinks to a small table under a tree.

you sit across from each other, tom setting the earmuffs down. he pushes them back to you with a smile playing on his lips. “i like those better on you,” you murmur before taking a sip of hot chocolate. “pink’s my color,” he agrees and does the same. it’s so good that you decide to have some more, even though there’s steam coming from the lid.

“maybe i will finish all of this.” “i knew you’d like it.” tom laughs behind his cup. he got all worked up about it for nothing. you’re having one of your best nights in a while, which almost makes you not want to bring up the next topic. it’s sadly inevitable, so you might as well get it out of the way. christmas.

“so, do you have any plans for christmas?” you start, downing another sip. tom puts his drink down and leans back in the chair. “i’m staying over my mum and dad’s. we’ll have our traditional holland celebration.” he smiles to himself just thinking about it. you’re happy he has something to look forward to. you don’t.

“are you doing anything?” there’s the big question. people usually get awkward when you go into detail, which is exactly why you won’t. “actually, no.” his excitement changes to confusion. he furrows his eyebrows and sits up again. “you don’t celebrate?” “i do, just not anymore. not this year, at least.”

tom is extremely curious what this ‘anymore’ is about. it’s the second time you’ve mentioned it.

“i used to love it. my christmas spirit ran out, i guess,” you eleborate, eyes shifting down to the frozen grass. tom almost frowns. it’s not because he pities you. no one likes that. christmas is one of, if not, his favorite times of year. he just wishes the whole world could be happy this holiday season. the lovely girl sitting in front of him, especially.

there has to be something he can do.

“no, you can always get it back,” he says softly, searching for your eyes. “i’ll help you.” you look up at him again and blink back the tears you feel coming. tom must feel so lost right now. he wouldn’t be with context. you’re going to tell him what happened when you’re ready because you do want him to understand. trusting him feels like an instinct.

“how?” your voice comes out even quieter than his. you pick up your drink to distract yourself. “let’s see,” tom thinks aloud. he snaps when he gets an idea. “have you done any decorating?” “my roommate put up a tree. she never did the ornaments, though.” he gasps over dramatically, earning a laugh from you.

“you can’t leave a naked tree sitting around.” “i told her it looked stupid,” you sigh and sip your hot chocolate. tom holds out a hand for you. “we should go to the shops”

it would be easy to say no. it would be easy to go back home and hide under your covers and avoid the missed calls from your family. the catch is, easy isn’t progress. you can’t move past this unless you work to get it done.

you take tom’s hand and stand up from the table.

“we should also get a ride this time.”