#best golf tees

[zeit-4-golf]

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[golftopicreviewus]

Top 5: Best Golf Tee Bag For 2023: Whats In My Golf Bag, Taylormade, Lea...

[erwinsvow]

rafe’s the jealous type, though you had never seen it coming. he was your friend, just like topper and kelce, but somehow, it was never really like it was with the other two. you tried to ignore it for as long as you could, for the sake of the friendship, but it was getting to be too much.

you weren’t even his friend first. working as a summer intern for topper’s mom had led to a few chance encounters already with the boys when they’d drop by. it wasn’t until his mom insisted he take you along that you got to know them a little bit more. you were surprised at how well the four of you got along, even though rafe seemed opposed to you tagging along at first.

but you think you’d won him over in the next few weeks, and now months later, you could easily argue that you were the closest with rafe now. it was pretty apparent—he drove you everywhere, picked you up first and let you have permanent shotgun. when you need to crash after the party runs late, you always end up back at tannyhill, topper and kelce passed out on the couch downstairs or the floor of the guest room, always leaving the bed empty since they think you’ll be crawling in—though you never do. no, you’re asleep next to rafe on his bed, tangled limbs and sheets, waking up wondering if cuddling with your best friend was normal for everyone.

but you’ve never really had guy friends, so you ignore some of the warning signs. you think they’re overprotective, overcaring. you shove aside the thought creeping up, reminding you that only rafe acts like that towards you. you’ve convinced yourself it’s normal.

you’re always invited to tee time—though you mostly sit in the cart with your legs resting on the dash, reading your book and daydrinking. you think the outfits are cute, tiny golf skirts and matching caps, and it gave you an excuse to take the boys shopping—your favorite activity. 

rafe steps away to take a call and comes back to find you on the course, hands slowly trying out a nine-iron while kelce stands behind you, trying to guide your position. 

“no, plant your feet. firm, and then when you swing, twist like this-” it only takes another second, kelce’s hands barely settling on your waist to help you move, when rafe snaps.

“you’re shit at golf anyways, kelce, why’re you showin’ her?” you’re a little taken aback that he’s being so mean, but kelce just rolls his eyes, walking over to top while rafe heads to you. 

rafe doesn’t hesitate at all, doesn’t try to be polite and not creepy like kelce was. his hands go straight on your waist, lower to your hips. he presses himself right behind you, taking your hands in his to help you swing. with his help, you actually hit the golf ball this time, sending it flying in the distance. you squeal, jumping up and down and hugging rafe. you don’t catch the way kelce and topper exchange a look.

other days it’s a little more confusing. you think rafe just changes his mind a lot. 

you pack enough lunch for an army—which is just a necessity with the way these boys eat. topper’s just gotten some new fancy boat, and sarah’s busy so he invites you and kelce to take it for a spin instead. 

“rafe’s not coming?” you question on the phone, looking at the strawberries and peaches you’d cut up specially for him. you don’t know why you feel so disappointed—top says he’s busy with his dad, which is more important. your mood dampens up a little but picks up soon—you love spending time with kelce and topper anyways! you think you’re single-handedly fixing tops’s relationship with sarah and turning kelce into boyfriend material for this girl he’s had a crush on forever.

at the marina, you walk around looking for this new boat, the words top had used to describe it meaning little to you. you’re a little dolled up already, a pretty white coverup hiding a yellow bikini, a new one you’d just gotten. actually, rafe had bought it for you. he said he wanted you to have it.

“what you lookin’ for, kid?” you hear a familiar voice call out from behind you. you turn to see rafe, stepping off the druthers onto the dock with you.

“i thought top said you’re busy?” you ask, looking around.

“i am. what’re you doin’ here?”

“top said he’s bringing his new boat out. i’m supposed to meet kelce and him here but i can’t find it, wake, uh, something. i packed lunch,” you finish, holding up the picnic basket. “but i know he said you can’t come, such a bummer-”

“i’m comin’.” 

“huh? he just told me-” “i’m takin’ the druthers out. c’mon, hop on. i bet those idiots sunk that thing already.”

you end up spending the whole day on boat with rafe—reading your book and eating slices of peach while talking to rafe about everything under the sun. top and kelce blow up your phone but you don’t even see it until you pick it up to take a picture of the sunset.

you finally realize something’s going on at the house party at kelce’s. rafe picks you up and you play with the skinny straps of your dress, wondering how to tell him what you’re thinking. he’s a good friend though—he always knows when you get like this.

“spit it out, kid. what?”

“well, i was thinking maybe i should crash at kelce’s tonight.”

“why?” he questions, like it’s the stupidest thing in the world. you don’t catch the way his grip tightens on the wheel. 

“well, last night.. everyone was saying it’s weird that i always crash at yours. and kelce always offers, he’s got that pull out bed-”

“y’not sleepin’ at kelce’s. or top’s.”

“why not?”

“‘cause i said so. don’t ask again.” and though you’re used to getting your way, you listen. at the party once you get a few drinks in you, you find your way back to the sofa where rafe’s exchanging packets of white powder for cash. you end up next to him, legs splayed over his and dress riding up, watching kelce and topper play pong with some people you don’t recognize. 

“m’tired,” you mumble, playing with your empty red solo cup. only rafe hears you.

“shouldn’t have drank so much so fast. what’s wrong with you, hm?”

“just tryna feel better.. and you won’t let me try coke so-”

“shut up about the coke. not gettin’ anywhere near the stuff.”

“you let kelce and top do it-”

“you’re not kelce and top. how much clearer do i have to make it?” your eyes fill with tears—you’re trying so hard to not be such a girl, but everyone has their limits.

“well, you’re not my boyfriend, so i don’t have to listen to you-” it comes out louder, getting the attention of your friends. kelce and topper exchange a look, wondering if what they’ve been waiting for is about to happen. you don’t want them to see you cry, so you run off into the opposite direction towards kelce’s empty room.

“nice going, rafe.”

“yeah, man, she’s definitely gonna fall in love with you after that.”

“shut up.” 

rafe follows you, knows where you went. he knocks on the door, twisting the handle even before you get a chance to respond. 

“go away, rafe.” you sit on kelce’s bed, staring down at your shoes. rafe come and crouches near you, putting his hands on your knees to keep you firmly in place, even though you try to pull away.

“hey, c’mon, kid. m’sorry. there, you happy now?”

“you’re a dick. leave me alone-”

“i’m fuckin’ trying, here, okay-” you stand up, pushing him away. “trying to do what? make our friendship all weird? mission-fucking-accomplished, because i can tell you don’t want me around, so i’m-” you get interrupted, rafe rushing up to you and forcing you into a kiss. his arms tighten around your waist, holding you hard. you melt into his touch, kissing him back. things are making more sense now.

“and watch your mouth with me.”

“shut up. you don’t know anything.” you lean back for another kiss.

“guys,” kelce yells out from outside the door. “please do not have sex on my bed.”

[rafesgfs]

golf lesson

you distract rafe during a golf lesson.

"How important is winning this bet with your brother for you?" Rafe asked, watching as you hit the ball right into the lake, the ball nearly hitting a duck.

You glance at him, biting your lip. "Am I that bad?"

He turned to look back at the holes on the grass where you had hit your club, the iron kicking up the freshly mown grass rather than the ball on the tee. The blond bites back his smile, turning back at you, shrugging. "No, you're doing great, baby."

Groaning, you lean against your golf club, annoyed and frustrated. "Ugh, how am I so bad at a game old men play? This is humiliating."

Rafe had spent the whole afternoon trying to teach you how to golf after making a bet with your brother you could win a round with him. The prize: a few weeks in Greece that your parents would fully fund. And you wanted to play your Mamma Mia fantasies this summer, even if you had to listen to your boyfriend teach you all the mechanics of the most boring sport ever.

However, it did have some pros, one of them watching how Rafe's arms flexed when he swung the club, the way his white polo shirt fit him, the way he drove the golf club. It was a wonder how you were able to focus on his presence so close to you.

Rafe chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. He presses a kiss on your shoulder, his chin resting on it. "It's a stupid sport, don't get discouraged. And with me as a coach, you'll be the best."

You turn to glare at him, annoyed at how he babied you, knowing full well there was little to no hope with your golf skills. "You're mocking me."

"No, no, I would never." he smiles softly, a smile tugging at his lips. "We just need to practice a little more. You're good at everything, I'm sure you'll be good at this, too."

Rolling your eyes, you huff, thinking about all the balls you had lost in the past hour alone. Rafe had to go back to the country club multiple times to grab another pack of golf balls, a smirk slapped on his face every time he came back with a new pack.

"This is hopeless." you groaned dramatically, throwing Rafe another glare as he laughed.

He wraps his arms around you, setting you up for another swing. "Here, let me teach you the proper technique and posture so you hit the ball where you want it to go, yeah?"

"Fine," you grumbled, biting back a smirk as Rafe's hands traveled down your body, hands gripping your waist.

"Make sure your body is turned to face the ball." Rafe murmurs in your ear, positioning your hips. His fingers trail softly up your body, your tennis dress riding up slightly at the movement. "Yeah, just like that."

You giggle softly as arch your back, shifting your legs slightly to grind your ass up against Rafe's crotch, smug at how quickly he froze. "Am I doing it right, Rafey?"

Despite how you hated the stupid nickname, you'd use it whenever you wanted something from him, something he couldn't help give you every time you asked. You'd also use it when you teased him with it, almost like a secret word to hint you wanted him without others knowing.

"Yeah, yeah. Doing great, baby. Grip the club here and here." Rafe cleared his throat. He positions your hands on the club, fingers brushing briefly against the Darry ring he had gotten you for your first week anniversary.

"Hmm, this feels right." you grin smugly, feeling his cock hardening against your ass. Gripping the club, you do a little swing, twisting your hips. "Does that look good?"

"Fuck." Rafe groans, hands tightening against your hips, pulling you up against him, his cock pressed up against your cock. His fingers play with the hem of your dress, his chin resting on your shoulder. "You always look so goddamn good."

You giggle, eyes drifting towards the group of old men a hole away from you, near enough for them to see you and Rafe, but far enough to not see how you were grinding against him. "Help me hit the ball?"

"Of course," replied Rafe, hands engulfing your own. He leads you through the motion of a swing before guiding you to hit the golf ball. With a straight swing, the club hit the ball, flying in the air for a few seconds before rolling towards the flagged hole. "Good job, baby."

With a victorious smile, you turn to look at him, dropping the club on the ground. You wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you so much, Rafey. You're such a good coach."

"If I was a good coach, I wouldn't have spent half an hour searching the lake for the balls you hit in there." he teased, an arm encircling your waist. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "But I'll take the compliment."

You give him a pout, puckering up your glossed lips. "You're so mean to me, always teasing me."

"I'm sorry, baby." Rafe smirks, not sorry at all. Blue yes filled with mirth, he tilts your chin up with a finger. "Let me make up for it."

He brings his lips to yours, tongue-seeking entrance as you kiss him back. Teasingly, you bit his bottom lip gently, drawing out a soft gasp from the blond. Smiling against his lips, your hand drifts down his chest, down towards his hardening cock.

"Someone's excited." you kiss along his jaw, drawing out another small gasp from your boyfriend. Despite dating for a year, he still had the same reaction to your kisses, almost as if he was surprised you wanted to kiss him.

You squeeze his cock through his shorts, pressing your body against his, hiding the action from every golfer near you. Fingers trailing up and down the length of his cock, in a stroking motion, you bring your lips back to his, allowing Rafe's hand to grab your ass.

Rafe's hands wandered up beneath your dress and you pulled away, laughing as he dramatically groaned. You give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "No more kisses for you. I know you bet against me, fucker."

[roosterforme]

It's Okay, Daddy's Here | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Even after your honeymoon is over, you find yourself needing your husband all the time. One Saturday, when Bradley is out with the guys, you have an itch you just can't scratch by yourself. When he comes home and finds you a desperate, horny mess, he assures that "It's okay, Daddy's here." 

Warnings: Smut and fluff

Length: 2200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series! (But it can be read on its own) Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!

You couldn't understand what had happened to you since you stopped taking your birth control pills, but you'd been insatiable for the last month and a half. The ten day honeymoon you and Bradley had spent in Hawaii had been pure perfection. And now you'd been enjoying your husband as frequently as you could get your hands on him since returning home.

"What do you mean you're going golfing tomorrow morning?" you asked Bradley as you got undressed for bed on Friday night. You paused, naked with his tee shirt in your hands, and gaped at him. "Roo. That'll be hours. And then the guys will want to go out for drinks," you whined. "You won't be here to fuck me."

He groaned and patted his lap before he reached for you. "Tee time at the country club is Javy's Christmas present to all of us, so I agreed to go." You tossed the shirt aside and climbed up onto the bed to straddle his thighs. "But I can cancel, Baby Girl," he grunted, palming your tits as you leaned in closer to kiss him.

"No," you moaned against his mouth. "I don't want Javy to be mad at me. But you better do me so good right now, Roo. Seriously."

"Don't I always?" he growled, flipping you onto your back and running his fingers down along your belly and over your tattoo. "Don't I always take care of you?" 

"I have the best husband," you whispered as his lips connected with your neck. Then his fingers met your clit, and he eased his body weight down on top of you. And it was heavenly. And he fucked you hard into the bed until you came, screeching his name. And then you slept all night long, curled up on his warm chest in a state of satiated bliss. 

But as soon as you woke up to a cold, empty bed late Saturday morning, you flopped onto your back and tried to coax yourself back to sleep once more. But you couldn't. The need was almost immediate as you sat up. The bedding smelled like Bradley, and you knew you needed to go into the other room. 

After you grabbed your glasses and pulled on his soft UVA shirt, you went to make some coffee. But as it brewed, your mind wandered to how good he looked in his white golf pants and polos. You hoped he was wearing that deep blue floral print shirt that hugged his biceps. 

"Good Lord," you gasped, fixing your coffee the way you liked it and walking out onto the back patio with Tramp. But even the chilly December San Diego air couldn't cool you down. Bradley was probably getting all sweaty right now, gripping his nine iron and wearing those soft gloves. 

"Jesus," you whined, pacing around and sipping your hot coffee. "Just chill. You made it through work all week without him." But that wasn't exactly true. On Tuesday, you'd fucked him on your lunch break in the backseat of the Bronco in the parking garage. And on Thursday afternoon, he'd come into your office reeking like jet fuel and fucked you up against your file cabinet.

Tramp looked up at you when you let out a noise close to a whimper. You finished your coffee and went back inside to start packing for the Christmas holidays, but as soon as you opened your underwear drawer, you caught sight of all of your wedding lingerie, and you had to leave the room again. 

A shower. That would help. But you tried hot water and then cold water, and you just ended up with your back pressed against the tile wall, stroking our fingers over your clit. You must be ovulating. That would explain a lot right now. But as you tried to get yourself off, you kept coming up short. 

"No," you whined, dipping your fingers into your own slick before bringing them back up to your clit. When you managed to get the tiniest bit of relief, you finished up in the shower and went to get dressed. 

But you ended up pulling out your vibrators only to glare at them, because they did not look as appealing as Bradley did. "Fuck," you grumbled, tossing them back where they belonged and kicking your drawer closed. 

How much longer could golf possibly take? You'd be fine until you could get the real thing. You could wait.

-----------------------------

Bradley rushed through the eighteenth hole, hoping to get back home to you faster, but the guys weren't having it. 

"Let's hit up the bar," Hangman drawled. "Drinks are on me."

Bradley opened his mouth to protest, but Jake cut him off and said, "And don't even try to use your wife as an excuse, Bradshaw. You and Angel can go a few hours without your hands all over each other. The honeymoon is over."

But it wasn't. It really wasn't. Bradley wanted his hands and mouth on you at the moment so badly, he hoped the honeymoon would never end. 

"Fine," he grumbled. "One drink." But one turned into two, and the jukebox at the Hard Deck was playing Christmas music, and Penny got him to dance with her before he was able to sneak out. He had been gone most of the day.

As he walked back to the Bronco late in the afternoon sunlight, he texted you and let you know he was finally on his way home. Your response was almost instantaneous. 

Baby Girl Bradshaw: Hurry

"Damn," he muttered, starting up the engine and rushing home to get to you. He thought maybe you'd be waiting for him in bed, wearing that little red lingerie set he liked so much, but what he discovered was even better. 

"Holy shit," he muttered as soon as he walked inside the front door. His golf bag clattered to the floor as you turned your head to look over your shoulder at him.

"Roo," you moaned, and it was the neediest, most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his life. And before he knew it, he was palming himself through his white golf pants at the sight of you naked, straddling the arm of the living room couch. Your back was to him as you rubbed your bare pussy up and down the arm, back arched and whining softly. 

He stumbled closer to you, his eyes glued to your ass as you moved in the most appealing way. You were leaving glistening streaks of your slick along the upholstery, and it was so fucking hot. 

"What's going on, Baby Girl?" he managed to ask as you looked back at him again.

"I can't help it," you gasped, your voice bordering on pitiful as you sucked in a deep breath. "I'm so fucking horny, Bradley. I've tried masturbating all day, but nothing feels as good as you do." 

"Oh, Sweetheart," he rasped, unzipping his pants and getting himself ready. "You should have called me."

"Please! I need you. Make it go away."

You were almost in tears now as Bradley put his hands on your hips, helping you rock your soaking wet pussy against the couch. "Shh. Daddy's home now. It's okay, Daddy's here." He stood behind you and kissed your bare shoulder, letting his fingers skim up your belly to stroke the undersides of your breasts. 

"Oh! Your fingers feel so good," you groaned, planting your hands on the back of the couch and rocking your hips a little faster.

"How did you get like this, Baby Girl?" he whispered next to your ear, pressing the front of his body to your back as you rocked your pussy along, trying to find some satisfaction. "You're like a dog in heat," he groaned, squeezing your nipples. 

"I know," you keened, head tossed back to give him access to your neck. "I'm ovulating."

"Oh, hell," he grunted. That was music to Bradley's ears as you bumped his hard cock with your ass every time you rolled your hips. "You need me to fuck you?" he asked softly, licking a stripe up your neck. "You need my cum?"

"Please, Daddy," you begged softly, but he could hear the desperation there. "Fuck me."

Bradley eased away from you and lifted you up a bit by your hips as you whined. "Aww, Sweetheart," he said, stroking his fingers along your ass down to your soaking wet pussy while he admired the wet spot on the couch. "You need me."

You looked back at him and nodded as he palmed your ass up in the air. "I need you, Daddy," you said, your voice breaking with tears in your eyes.

Bradley stroked your soft skin and asked, "Do you know how bad I want you knocked up?"

You nodded again, practically on the verge of tears. "I know it."

Bradley set you down gently on the arm once more, tipping you forward slightly so your clit was rubbing against the wet spot you made. Then he grabbed his cock as you wiggled your ass at him, just begging to have him fill you up. 

"I got you," he promised, rubbing himself through your wetness. "I'll take care of everything."

With one steady thrust, he filled you and bottomed out. A sound of relief escaped you as you moaned, "Daddy." Bradley pulled you snug to him by your hips, and with each fluid thrust, he helped you rock your clit against the couch. 

Bradley kept you going at a steady pace, fucking you nice and slow as he guided you along, praising you for being the perfect wife. "You always look so good for me. With your pretty pussy and that ass on display. You know how much I like coming home to find you ready for me?"

"Tell me," you whispered, starting to clench around him. 

He kissed along your neck as you jerked yourself along a little faster. "I love it when you're waiting for me to fill you up. I love how needy you are."

Bradley knew you were close now, so he let you ride the arm of the couch and bump back along his length while he held himself still for you. And then you were cumming, shaking against his body, reaching back for his hands as you clenched around his cock and sobbed softly. 

"You feel better?" he asked, still fucking you slow and steady. You were like a feral animal that only he was able to tame. 

"So much better," you whispered, turning and licking his bicep. "You're all sweaty, Roo. You smell so good."

"Damn it," Bradley grunted. Now he was starting to feel slightly unhinged over you. His wife needed him so badly around the clock right now. He expected that your body would start to adjust to being off birth control, and this extreme need for him would start to ease up. But for now, he didn't mind one bit. And he wanted to keep you filled up with his cum until it took.  

He slammed into you a little harder as you gazed lovingly at him over your shoulder. "You can do it, Daddy." He reached for your chin, grabbing you and kissing you a little rough. 

"Oh, fuck." Then he was filling you before he collapsed against your back. Bradley ran his hands along your pristine skin, paying extra attention to your tits as he caught his breath. "I can't believe I found you riding the couch like this."

"Nothing would even take the edge off, Bradley. Just you."

He squeezed your tits and ran his nose behind your ear. "I love you. Next time, you call me. I drop everything for you whenever I can. You understand me?"

"Yes." Your voice was soft and calm now, and he could tell you were feeling much better. 

"That's my girl." When he withdrew from your pussy, and his cum leaked out onto the arm of the couch, Bradley whispered, "Don't move."

He dug his phone out of his pocket and took some photos of you turning to look at him with a sweet, fucked out expression on your face and a messy pussy. He knew those images would keep him warm when he was deployed. Then he helped you stand right in front of him, and both of you admired the soiled arm of the couch together.

"Beautiful," Bradley murmured next to your ear, stroking his fingers along your belly and wishing. 

He watched you run your finger through the mess before licking it and turning to kiss him. You traced his lips with your tongue and he tasted himself before you said, "I'll clean up the couch."

"No, you're going to go get in bed like a good girl. And after I clean up out here, I'll be ready to take the edge off for you again. Okay?"

You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him, and then he watched your ass as you headed to bed to wait for him to take care of you again.

--------------------------

Roo always takes care of his wife! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

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[mrsfancyferrari]

Can you make an AU where Carlos is attracted to the new receptionist at the golf course he and Papa Sainz frequent? Ps. please make her Latina and with curly hair

Thanks in advance!!

Golf Gurl

Anon: Can you make an AU where Carlos is attracted to the new receptionist at the golf course he and Papa Sainz frequent? Ps. please make her Latina and with curly hair

Song: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <33

Word count: 6.6k

It was another busy day at the golf course, with members coming and going.

You've only worked here for a few weeks, thanks to your best friend who got you the job. She knew you were in desperate need of more staff, and you were in desperate need of money, so it worked out perfectly.

The hours were long and the work could be exhausting, but it was a steady paycheck and you were grateful for it. Every day brought new challenges and new faces, and you were slowly getting the hang of things.

The members were mostly friendly, though some could be demanding. Your friend and you often laughed about the more eccentric characters you encountered, and it made the busy days more bearable.

Plus, the beautiful scenery of the golf course was a nice bonus, providing a peaceful escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

As you stood behind the reception desk, checking in players and handing out scorecards, you couldn't help but notice a familiar face approaching.

It was Carlos Sainz, the young Formula 1 driver, and his father Carlos Sainz Sr.

Carlos Sainz Jr. had a boyish charm that was hard to miss. His chiselled jawline, sparkling brown eyes, and tousled dark hair gave him an effortlessly cool appearance. Dressed in a sleek, navy-blue polo shirt and tailored khaki shorts, he exuded an air of casual sophistication that turned heads everywhere he went.

His father, Carlos Sainz Sr., was a distinguished figure with a rugged, experienced look. His salt-and-pepper hair and weathered face told stories of countless adventures and victories. Wearing a classic white polo and well-fitted trousers, he carried himself with the quiet confidence of a seasoned champion.

As they approached the desk, their easy camaraderie was evident. The younger Sainz greeted you with a warm smile, while his father gave a polite nod, both of them radiating the kind of charisma that comes from a life spent in the spotlight.

"Good morning, how can I assist you today?" You greeted them with a warm smile.

"Hola, we'd like to check in for our usual tee time," Carlos Sainz Sr. replied.

As you typed away at the computer, you felt Carlos Sainz's gaze on you. You glanced up and your eyes met, causing a flutter in your chest.

"Here are your scorecards, gentlemen. Enjoy your round," you said, handing them the cards.

"Gracias, senorita," Carlos Sr. nodded, then turned to his son. "Come on, let's get going."

But Carlos lingered for a moment, his eyes still locked on yours. "Thank you," he said softly, before following his father to the first tee.

A few seconds after they left, your best friend Mariah came running over, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Did you know that Carlos Sainz and his dad just arrived here?" she exclaimed, almost out of breath.

You sighed, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yes, Mariah, I just saw them. I checked them in," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual despite the fluttering in your chest.

Mariah's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned in closer. "Did you talk to him? What did he say? Oh my gosh, he’s even more handsome in person, isn't he?" she gushed, barely able to contain her excitement.

You chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Not much, just a thank you," you said softly, feeling that flutter in your chest again as you recalled the moment.

Mariah nudged you playfully. "Come on, there has to be more! Did he smile at you? Did you feel a spark?"

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't help but blush. "He did smile, and maybe there was a little spark," you admitted, causing Mariah to squeal with delight.

"This is so exciting! Who knows, maybe you'll bump into him again later," she added, winking mischievously.

Over the next few weeks, you noticed Carlos Sainz would often linger a bit longer after checking in, finding excuses to talk to you.

You'd exchange small talk about the weather, the course conditions, or the upcoming F1 race. You found yourself looking forward to these brief interactions, captivated by his charming smile and warm brown eyes.

"Girl, he loves you," Mariah exclaimed dramatically over your lunch break, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You laughed, shaking your head. "That's exaggerating, Mariah. We've just been talking," you insisted, though you couldn't deny the thrill that ran through you at the thought.

Mariah leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Please, I've seen the way he looks at you. It's like you're the only person in the world. And don't even get me started on how he always finds a reason to linger around," she said, raising an eyebrow.

You sighed, unable to suppress a smile. "Okay, maybe there's something there. But it's not like anything can really happen," you said, trying to temper your own rising excitement.

Every time you saw him, your heart would skip a beat, and a warm, tingling sensation would spread through your chest.

You found yourself stealing glances at him, feeling a mixture of nervousness and exhilaration with each encounter. Despite your attempts to remain composed, the mere sight of his easy smile and confident demeanor left you feeling giddy and hopeful for what might come next.

One afternoon, as you were organizing some paperwork, Carlos approached you with a cup of coffee in his hand. "I thought you might need a pick-me-up," he said with that signature smile, his fingers brushing yours as you accepted the cup.

The brief touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you couldn’t help but stammer a thank you, your cheeks flushing pink.

Carlos's smile widened, clearly pleased by your reaction. "You're welcome," he replied smoothly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I hope it helps you get through the rest of the day," he added, lingering just a moment longer before turning to leave, leaving you feeling both flustered and elated.

As Carlos walked away, you couldn't help but replay the moment in your head, savoring the warmth of his touch and the genuine kindness in his eyes.

Your mind swirled with a jumble of emotions—anticipation, curiosity, and a growing hope that maybe, just maybe, there was more to these interactions than simple friendliness.

You find yourself unable to focus on your work, daydreaming about what might happen the next time your paths cross. . . .

It was getting closer to Christmas Day, and Carlos's visits to the golf course were becoming more frequent. Every time he came by the check-in desk, he lingered a little longer, chatting about anything and everything.

"So, are you planning to go spend Christmas with your family?" he asked, leaning casually against the counter.

You smiled, shaking your head. "No, my parents live in Mexico and I'd rather stay here for Christmas. What about you?"

Carlos chuckled, "I think I'll spend the day with my family." His eyes twinkled with a mix of excitement and holiday spirit.

"That sounds perfect Carlos. I hope you'll have a great Christmas with them," you replied.

Carlos nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Thanks! Maybe next year you can join us for a big family dinner," he suggested, his tone genuine.

You laughed softly, feeling a bit more connected. "I'd love that, Carlos. Maybe I'll take you up on that offer someday."

The conversation flowed easily, making the cold December days feel a little warmer.

The day of Christmas arrived quickly, bringing with it a quiet calmness to the golf course. Snow gently dusted the greens, and the usually bustling check-in desk saw only a handful of customers.

You had decided to work today, lured by the promise of bonus pay, but the lack of holiday cheer made the hours drag.

As the afternoon wore on, you found yourself reminiscing about Carlos's invitation. The thought of being surrounded by a warm, welcoming family made the solitude sting a little less.

Maybe next year, you thought, as you glanced out at the serene, snow-covered landscape. For now, you'd focus on making the best of the quiet day, knowing that the holiday spirit could be found in the most unexpected places.

The day of Christmas arrived quickly after, and you were one of the two workers stationed at the reception desk.

The other worker, Sarah, had just gone on her long break, taking the opportunity to stroll through the snow-dusted golf course while you handled the few customers that trickled in.

The quietness of the day was both a blessing and a curse; it gave you ample time to reflect but also made the hours stretch endlessly.

As you sat there, a small group of regulars came in to get a quick round of golf in before their holiday festivities. Their cheerful banter brought a touch of the holiday spirit into the otherwise serene clubhouse.

Engaging in light conversation with them helped pass the time, and their jovial moods were infectious.

You then heard a familiar voice as you texted Mariah on the phone. "You should be focusing on me instead of your phone," the voice teased.

You looked up to see Carlos standing there, bundled up in a thick coat and scarf. "Carlos! What are you doing here? I thought you'd be with your family!" you exclaimed, genuinely surprised but delighted to see him.

Carlos chuckled, "I was, but I thought I'd stop by to check on you. I know working on Christmas can be a drag."

He leaned on the counter, his eyes twinkling with the same mix of excitement and holiday spirit from before. "Plus, I brought you a little something to make your day brighter," he said, pulling out a small gift-wrapped box from his coat pocket.

You accepted the gift with a smile, the loneliness of the day melting away in the warmth of his gesture.

"Thank you, Carlos. You didn't have to do this," you said, unwrapping the gift to reveal a beautifully crafted snow globe with a miniature winter wonderland inside. "It's perfect," you added, touched by the thoughtful gesture.

Carlos shrugged modestly, "I just wanted to bring a piece of the holiday cheer to you. Besides, who says you can't have a little fun at work?"

"You always know how to make things better," you replied, placing the snow globe on the counter where you could admire it throughout the day.

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" you asked, curious about how he managed to juggle his time.

Carlos smiled, "Well, after making sure you're not too lonely here, I'm heading back to help my mom with the Christmas dinner preparations."

He chuckled, "You know how it is, I'm the oldest so it's my job to help out." You nodded in agreement, feeling a rush of admiration for his sense of responsibility.

He shrugged, "It's just what family does."

"That's really sweet of you, Carlos. Family traditions are important, and I can see how much you cherish them," you replied, feeling a renewed sense of warmth from his presence.

"I actually miss those big family gatherings, the laughter, and the chaos. But being here isn't so bad, especially now that you're here."

"Well, I hope you get to see your parents soon," Carlos said, his eyes filled with understanding and sincerity.

"Thanks, Carlos. I hope so too," you replied, handing him his scorecard as you noticed a small line forming behind him. "But for now, I'm just glad I got to see you. It means a lot."

Carlos gave you a warm smile, "Take care of yourself, and don't let the holiday blues get to you, okay?" He glanced at the next customer and nodded, "Looks like you've got some more people to cheer up. I'll see you around."

You smiled back, "Thanks again, Carlos. Have a wonderful Christmas with your family." With that, he waved and headed to his golf section, leaving you with a heart a little lighter and a desk adorned with a piece of holiday magic.

As Carlos left, the next customer approached the counter with a friendly smile. "Hi there, I was wondering if you could help me find a gift for my nephew.

"He's really into sports, especially golf," she said, her eyes twinkling with holiday excitement. "Of course," you replied, eager to assist and share some of the holiday cheer Carlos had just brought into your day.

After assisting the customer with a few suggestions for her nephew, you were finally let off for your break. Eager to catch up with Carlos, you quickly made your way to the golf section, scanning the aisles for his familiar figure.

There he was, meticulously arranging golf balls and chatting with another employee.

You decided not to disturb him, content to watch from a distance as he swung his club with practiced ease. The fluid motion of his swing sent the golf ball flying straight and true, a testament to his skill and dedication.

His focus was unwavering, and you couldn't help but admire his passion for the sport. It was clear that golf was more than just a hobby for Carlos; it was a part of who he was.

As you continued to observe, you noticed the way he effortlessly engaged with the customers and his colleagues, offering advice and sharing tips with a genuine enthusiasm that was infectious.

His charisma and kindness shone through in every interaction, making the golf section a little brighter and more welcoming. Watching him, you felt a sense of comfort and connection, knowing that even in the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, there were moments of true joy and camaraderie to be found.

"Are you going to stare all day or are you going to come here?" you heard Carlos say, snapping you out of your reverie. You blinked and realized that he was looking right at you, a playful grin lighting up his face.

With a sheepish smile, you walked over to him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just admiring your swing," you confessed.

Carlos chuckled, handing you a golf club. "No worries! Want to give it a try? It's never too late to pick up a new hobby," he encouraged, his eyes twinkling with the same holiday excitement you had seen in the customer's earlier.

"I've never done golf before," you admitted shyly, gripping the club with uncertainty.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "How do you work at a golf place yet don't know how to play golf?" he asked, his tone light and curious.

You shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I guess I just never had the time or the opportunity. Plus, it always seemed a bit intimidating," you explained.

Carlos's expression softened, and he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Well, today is your lucky day. Let's start with the basics. First, you want to have a good stance," he instructed, moving to position your feet correctly.

"And don't worry, I'll be right here to guide you every step of the way."

You stood in front of him and held one of his clubs, following his instructions but you missed the ball twice. "Don't worry about it," Carlos said, his voice gentle and encouraging.

"It's all about getting comfortable with your stance and swing. Let's try adjusting your grip a little bit." He carefully positioned your hands on the club, his touch steadying your nerves.

Taking a deep breath, you tried again, but the ball still didn't go very far. Carlos laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Hey, you're getting there! Remember, it's not about power, it's about technique. Just relax and let the club do the work." His confidence was contagious, and you found yourself smiling back at him.

"Alright, one more time," you said determinedly, feeling a renewed sense of excitement.

Carlos moved closer, his presence both comforting and electrifying. "Let me help you this time," he muttered, standing right behind you and placing his hands over yours on the club.

Your breath hitched as you felt the warmth of his body aligning with yours, his steady guidance making you feel surprisingly confident. "Just relax," he whispered, his voice soothing, "and let’s focus on the swing together."

With Carlos's hands guiding yours, you felt an immediate difference. The club felt less foreign, and your stance more natural.

As you swung, the ball finally took a clean, satisfying arc through the air. "There you go!" Carlos exclaimed, stepping back with a proud smile. You turned to him, beaming with excitement and gratitude. "Thank you, Carlos. That was amazing!"

He chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Anytime. Looks like you might just have a knack for this after all."

Looking at Carlos, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement and appreciation. His patience and unwavering support were more than just helpful; they made you feel seen and valued.

As your eyes met, you realized there was something undeniably special about this moment, making you wonder if this newfound connection might extend beyond the golf course.

Before you could say anything more, one of the staff called you for assistance. "Excuse me, I need to help with something," you said, reluctantly pulling away from Carlos.

He nodded, his eyes still warm and understanding. "Go ahead. I'll be right here when you're done," he assured you.

As you walked over to the staff member, you couldn't help but glance back at Carlos. He was watching you, a small smile on his face, which only made your heart race faster.

The task at hand was simple enough, but your mind kept drifting back to the moments you had just shared. Finally, as you wrapped up the assistance, you knew you couldn't wait to get back to Carlos, eager to see where this newfound connection might lead.

"Thanks for waiting," you said with a smile, walking back toward him. "So, how about another lesson? I think I could use a bit more of your expert guidance," you added, hoping to prolong your time together.

Carlos grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'd be happy to help. Let's see if we can make that swing even better." He stepped closer, his hand gently resting on your back as he adjusted your stance once more.

"Remember, it's all about the rhythm and feeling comfortable."

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

As you were closing up the pro shop, Carlos approached the desk. "Y/N, I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner tonight?" he asked, a nervous edge to his voice.

"But what about your family dinner?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

Carlos smiled, his eyes twinkling with reassurance. "We can go after it, if you want to. My family gatherings usually wrap up pretty early."

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the excitement of spending more time with him against the potential intrusion on his family plans. But his earnest expression melted your doubts.

"Alright, that sounds perfect," you agreed, feeling a rush of anticipation.

"Great! I'll pick you up around eight?" Carlos suggested, his face lighting up with relief and joy.

"Eight it is," you confirmed, your heart fluttering at the prospect of what the evening might bring.

As you both exchanged smiles and phone numbers, you couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of something wonderful.

The dress Mariah brought was a stunning crimson red, the color of a ripe pomegranate. As soon as you held it up, you could tell it was made of the finest silk, the fabric flowing through your fingers like liquid fire.

"Mariah, this dress is absolutely gorgeous!" you exclaimed, your eyes wide with delight. "I can't believe you found something this beautiful on such short notice."

"I know you, girl," Mariah said with a wink. "I knew you needed something special, so I went straight to my favorite boutique. As soon as I saw this dress, I knew it had your name written all over it."

Holding the dress up to your body, you admired the way the deep v-neckline would accentuate your collarbones, and the way the fitted bodice would hug your curves in all the right places. The skirt flowed out in elegant pleats, promising to move with grace and fluidity as you walked.

"It's perfect, Mariah. Absolutely perfect. Help me try it on?" you asked, already shimmying out of your clothes in anticipation.

Mariah helped you carefully slip the dress over your head, the cool silk gliding effortlessly against your skin. You felt a slight shiver as the fabric settled around your shoulders, and Mariah expertly adjusted the straps to ensure a perfect fit.

As you turned to face the mirror, you marveled at how the dress seemed to transform you, its rich color and elegant design highlighting your best features.

Mariah's eyes sparkled with pride and excitement as she took a step back to admire you.

"Oh my goodness, you look absolutely stunning!" she gasped, her smile widening. "This dress was made for you; Carlos won't be able to take his eyes off you tonight!"

"Do you really think so?" you asked, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

"Absolutely," Mariah reassured you. "Trust me, when Carlos sees you in this dress, he's going to be speechless. Now, let's finish getting you ready—hair and makeup next!"

You heard a knock on your door and jumped, your heart racing as you glanced at the clock. Mariah had already left after doing your makeup and hair, leaving you to savor the final moments before the big night.

You took a deep breath, smoothing down the skirt of your dress one last time before opening the door.

Carlos stood there, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of you. "Wow," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You look... incredible."

You felt your cheeks flush again as you smiled shyly. "Thank you, Carlos. You look pretty dashing yourself."

He offered you his arm, his gaze never leaving yours. "Shall we?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting. "Let's," you replied, feeling a surge of confidence and excitement as you stepped out into the evening, ready to dazzle the night away.

That evening, you two met at a cozy Spanish restaurant not far from the golf course. As you sipped on sangria and shared tapas, the conversation flowed easily.

Carlos was genuinely interested in learning more about you - your background, your hobbies, your dreams.

"So what brought you to work at the golf course?" he asked, popping an olive in his mouth.

"Well, I've always loved the sport, and the job allows me to be outdoors and interact with people. Plus, the members are so friendly," you replied, glancing up at him through your lashes.

Carlos nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. The course has never looked better, thanks in no small part to you."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his compliment. "You're very kind. And how about you? What do you enjoy most about golf?"

"The peace and quiet, the challenge of the game... and the lovely company you get to keep these days," he said, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

We talked late into the night, losing track of time. You were captivated by Carlos' charm, his passion for racing, and his genuine interest in you.

As you said your goodbyes in front of your door, he gently took your hand, sending a warm, tingling sensation up your arm.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and a sense of calm contentment washed over you. The evening had been perfect, filled with laughter, meaningful conversations, and an undeniable connection that seemed to grow with each passing moment.

You felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness, wondering what the future might hold for you two. Carlos leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

"I had a wonderful time tonight," he said softly, his voice rich with sincerity. "I hope we can do this again soon."

You nodded, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. "I���d like that very much," You replied, feeling a sense of warmth and anticipation as you two lingered in the middle of the corridor.

From that night on, Carlos and you grew closer, our budding romance blossoming amidst the lush greens of the golf course. You had never expected to find such a connection with this famous Formula 1 driver, but every moment spent with him felt natural and effortless.

Our future was uncertain, but one thing was clear - you were falling for Carlos Sainz, and falling hard. . . .

You and Carlos had been dating for a few months, but you finally decided to go public with your relationship. As soon as you did, you became everyone's favorite WAG.

People were captivated by the way you and Carlos would talk in Spanish to each other, often leaving the others around you confused and wondering what you were saying.

"Me encanta cómo podemos hablar en español y nadie sabe de qué estamos hablando.," you said to Carlos one day, giggling. I love how we can just speak in Spanish and nobody knows what we're talking about.

"Yo también," Carlos replied with a smile. "Es nuestro pequeño lenguaje secreto." Me too. It's our own little secret language.

The two of you also had a tendency to judge people from afar, casting subtle glances and whispering comments to each other.

"¿Viste cómo estaba vestida?" you whispered to Carlos, raising an eyebrow. Did you see the way she was dressed?

"Horrible," Carlos scoffed. "Ella no tiene ningún sentido de la moda." She has no fashion sense at all.

Both of your friends would just shake their heads, used to your antics by now. But they couldn't help but be charmed by the way you and Carlos were so in sync, so clearly infatuated with each other.

"They're just so cute together," Mariah said wistfully. "I wish I had what they have."

"I'm right here," Her boyfriend says, carrying her bags and sighing at her disappointment.

You and Carlos would just smile knowingly at each other, happy to be in your own little world, unaffected by the attention you were receiving.

Your relationship was the envy of many, and you wouldn't have it any other way. . . .

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

During summer break of F1, you, Carlos, Lando, and Carlos Sr decided to embark on a fun-filled adventure to the local golf course.

You, who had recently taken a break from your job, was determined to make the most of your time with Carlos. Armed with golf carts, the four of you embarked on a journey to the greens.

As you all arrived, the golf course was bustling with activity. The lush green landscape stretched out before them, dotted with pristine fairways and shining bunkers.

You all parked their carts side by side, ready to embark on a day of golfing camaraderie.

Excited by their newfound freedom, Carlos and Lando couldn't resist the temptation to showcase their competitive spirits.

Without even waiting for Carlos' dad to finish settling into your shared cart, they spontaneously decided to have a race with their carts. Their eagerness was palpable as they revved their engines and took off down the fairway.

As they raced, Carlos and Lando zoomed past unsuspecting golfers, eliciting a mix of cheers and startled gasps.

Their reckless behavior quickly caught the attention of others.

"Carlos, Lando, slow down before you two idiots flip those carts!" You yelled, your heart racing as you watched them careening down the golf course, their competitive spirits in full display.

However, your pleas went unheeded, as the boys' competitive spirits clouded their judgment.

Frustrated by their reckless antics, Carlos' dad turned his attention to you.

Carlos' dad turned to you, his brow furrowed. "Do you really care for my son, or is this just some passing fancy?" he pressed, his tone laced with skepticism.

You took a deep breath, feeling the frustration build within you. "Of course I care for him, more than you could ever know,"

You replied, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Carlos is the most important person in my life. He makes me laugh when I'm down, he challenges me to be a better person, and his smile lights up my world. I love the way he scrunches up his nose when he's concentrating, and the way he always remembers the little things that mean so much to me."

Your speed increased as you spoke, the golf cart practically flying down the course. "He's my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime. When I'm with him, I feel alive, like I can take on the world. He's the one person who truly understands me, who sees me for who I am, flaws and all, and loves me anyway."

You pulled the cart to a perfect stop in front of Carlos and Lando, who had finally slowed down. Carlos' dad stared at you, his eyes wide with surprise and, perhaps, a newfound respect.

"I love your son, more than anything," You concluded, your voice soft but unwavering. "He's the most important person in my life, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, even if it means yelling at a couple of reckless idiots on a golf course."

"Eres tan malo como mi hijo, una pareja hecha en el cielo." Carlos' dad said with a smirk as he slowly got off the golf cart. You're as bad as my son, a match made in heaven.

The tension seemed to ease slightly as he approached you, his stern demeanor softening.

"I see that you care deeply for him, and maybe, just maybe, that's exactly what he needs. Someone who isn't afraid to stand up to him, even when he's being a complete fool."

You let out a relieved sigh, grateful for his understanding. "I promise, I'll always look out for him, even if it means being the voice of reason when he's not thinking straight," you said, meeting his gaze firmly.

Carlos' dad nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, then I suppose I can't ask for more than that. Just remember, love isn't always smooth sailing, especially with someone as headstrong as Carlos. But if you can weather the storms together, you'll come out stronger on the other side."

"Thank you, sir," you replied earnestly, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I understand that loving someone like Carlos won't always be easy, but I'm committed to facing whatever comes our way. He means the world to me, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure he knows that every single day."

Carlos' dad placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his eyes softening further. "That's all I needed to hear. Just keep being there for him, and don't be afraid to push him when he needs it. He's lucky to have someone as dedicated as you by his side."

With that, he turned to join Carlos and Lando, leaving you with a renewed sense of determination and a heart full of hope.

You sighed, trying to relax before getting off the golf cart and bringing the golf bags along with you. The weight of the bags felt lighter somehow, perhaps a reflection of the newfound understanding you shared with Carlos’ dad.

As you walked towards Carlos and Lando, you couldn't help but smile, feeling more confident in your place within this tight-knit family.

Carlos looked up as you approached, his eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of concern.

"Everything okay?" he asked, glancing between you and his dad. You nodded, setting the golf bags down gently. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just had a little chat with your dad," you said, your voice steady.

Carlos' expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. "I’m glad," he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. "And thank you, for everything."

An overwhelming sense of warmth and contentment washed over you as Carlos' gratitude echoed in your ears. You felt a deep connection solidify between you, knowing that your commitment and love were reciprocated.

In that moment, you realized just how much you cherished being a part of his life, and you silently vowed to stand by him through whatever challenges lay ahead.

"Now let's go destroy Lando in golf," you said with a playful grin, trying to lighten the mood. Carlos chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing as he glanced over at Lando.

"Hey! I heard that!" Lando yelled from a few yards away, feigning offense but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips. He walked over to join you both, slinging an arm around Carlos' shoulders. "You know, I wasn't planning on going easy on either of you, right?"

Carlos laughed, glancing between you and Lando. "Well, bring it on then. We're ready for the challenge." You nodded in agreement, feeling a renewed sense of camaraderie as you all headed towards the first hole.

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the course, and for the first time in a while, you felt completely at ease, surrounded by friends and the love that had become so precious to you.

As soon as Lando missed the hole and lost the game, a triumphant cheer erupted from both you and Carlos. Without a moment’s hesitation, you found yourself running into Carlos' arms, the exhilaration of victory coursing through you.

Carlos lifted you off the ground in a joyous embrace, spinning you around as your laughter filled the air.

The bond you shared felt even stronger now, forged not just through love but through shared moments of triumph and joy.

Meanwhile, Lando stood a few paces away, trying—and failing—to hide his disappointment. "Oh, come on, you two! No need to rub it in," he called out, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his amusement.

Carlos set you down gently before kissing you, his lips warm and reassuring against yours. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect moment.

When you finally pulled back, you saw a mixture of happiness and determination in his eyes, a promise of many more shared victories to come.

"We make a pretty good team, don’t we?" he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. You nodded, feeling the truth of his words resonate deep within you.

With Carlos by your side, every challenge seemed surmountable, every moment more meaningful.

Lando, still feigning annoyance, walked up and clapped both of you on the back. "Alright, lovebirds, let's see if you can keep that winning streak going," he teased, his smile widening.

As you all moved on to the next hole, the playful banter and shared laughter reminded you just how lucky you were to have such incredible people in your life. . . .

[its-avalon-08]

Helloo! Can I pls request Carlos x Y/N who is a golf course bev cart girl? I love watching day in the life videos of bev cart girls on tiktok LOL and I think it'd be really interesting since Carlos loves golf! Thankuuu💘

gold clubs and nike shoes (cs55)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - fluff, a little angst, hate, comfort

how they met :

The sun was just beginning to rise over the lush green fairways of the exclusive golf club. Y/N was finishing her morning routine, making sure the beverage cart was stocked with cold drinks, snacks, and anything else the golfers might need. She loved her job, especially the quiet moments in the early morning before the course got busy.

Today felt like any other day, but little did she know, it was going to be a day she'd never forget.

As she drove the cart down the path towards the first hole, she noticed a group of golfers teeing off. Among them, one man caught her eye. He was tall, with dark hair and a confident stance. It took a moment before she recognized him.

"Is that… Carlos Sainz?" she murmured to herself, her heart skipping a beat.

Carlos had a break between races and decided to indulge in one of his favorite pastimes, golf. He was here with a few friends, hoping for a relaxing day on the course.

As Y/N approached the group, she put on her best professional smile. "Good morning, gentlemen! Can I offer you anything to drink or a snack to start your round?"

Carlos turned and his eyes met hers. For a moment, he seemed taken aback, then he smiled warmly. Her smile and wavy hair had him awe-struck. "Good morning! I'll have a water, please."

"Sure thing," she said, handing him a bottle of water. "Anything else for you guys?"

The rest of the group placed their orders, and as she handed out the drinks, Carlos couldn't help but strike up a conversation. "Do you work here every day?"

"Most days," she replied, glancing up at him. "It's a great job, especially on beautiful days like this. You must be Carlos Sainz, right?"

He chuckled. "Guilty as charged. You follow Formula 1?"

"I do, actually. I think it's amazing what you guys do. The speed, the skill… it’s incredible."

Carlos grinned. "Well, thank you. It's always nice to meet a fan. What’s your name?"

"Y/N," she said, smiling back. "Nice to meet you, Carlos."

As the day went on, Y/N found herself crossing paths with Carlos and his friends multiple times. Each time, they exchanged a few words, gradually getting to know each other better. By the time they reached the back nine, Carlos was deliberately timing his stops to coincide with her rounds.

At the fourteenth hole, Carlos finally decided to take a chance. As Y/N handed him another bottle of water, he asked, "So, Y/N, what do you do when you're not brightening up the golf course?"

She laughed. "Well, I’m studying part-time and I love traveling whenever I get the chance. How about you? When you’re not racing, that is."

"Golf, obviously," he said with a wink. "And I love traveling too. Maybe we could share some travel stories over coffee sometime?"

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. "I’d like that."

The round eventually came to an end, and Carlos knew he had to make his move before it was too late. As Y/N was getting ready to drive back to the clubhouse, he walked over.

"Y/N," he began, a bit more serious now, "I really enjoyed talking to you today. I'd love to see you again, off the course. What do you say we grab that coffee?"

Her smile widened. "I'd love that, Carlos. Here," she said, pulling out a small notepad and pen from the cart, "let me give you my number."

He took the note, his smile growing even bigger. "Perfect. I’ll call you soon."

As he walked back to his friends, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. What started as a typical day on the golf course turned into something extraordinary. And for Carlos, a simple round of golf had led to meeting someone truly special.

the first i love you :

The evening had been tense. Carlos and Y/N returned to her apartment after a long day on the golf course. Y/N had dealt with an inappropriate customer at work, leaving her shaken and upset. Carlos was furious, but he tried to keep his anger in check.

As they entered the apartment, Carlos slammed the door behind him. Y/N stood near the kitchen counter, trying to compose herself. Carlos paced the room, his frustration evident.

“I can’t believe that guy today,” Carlos said, his voice tight with anger. “What an absolute jerk!”

Y/N sighed, trying to stay calm. “It’s part of the job, Carlos. I deal with stuff like that sometimes. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine!” Carlos exclaimed. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that crap. I hate seeing you go through that.”

Y/N shook her head. “It’s my job, Carlos. I’m fine. It’s not the end of the world.”

Carlos stopped pacing and turned to face her, his expression serious. “You know what? You don’t have to keep working there. I have more than enough to support us. I want you to quit that job and focus on what makes you happy.”

Y/N was taken aback. “I appreciate that, but I like working. I want to be independent. It’s important to me.”

Carlos’s frustration reached its peak. “Y/N, this isn’t just about the job. I care about you more than anything. I love you, and it’s killing me to see you hurt. I need you to understand that!”

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. The words hung in the air between them, raw and unfiltered. She was speechless for a moment, her heart racing as she processed his confession.

“Carlos…” she managed to say.

Carlos moved closer, his voice softening but still filled with intensity. “I love you, Y/N. I don’t want you to face that kind of disrespect. You deserve so much more than that. And if it means you don’t work there anymore, then so be it. I just want you safe and happy.”

Y/N felt a wave of emotions crashing over her. She stepped towards him, her voice trembling with emotion. “Carlos, I… I don’t know what to say. I didn’t expect this. I love you too.”

Without another word, Y/N reached up and kissed him, her lips pressing against his with a mix of passion and relief. Carlos responded, pulling her into a tight embrace. The kiss was full of unspoken feelings and raw sincerity.

When they finally broke apart, Y/N looked into his eyes, her gaze steady but firm. “I want to be independent. I want to work and make my own way. It’s important to me, even if it means dealing with tough situations. But I want you to know that I love you too, and your support means everything.”

Carlos’s shoulders relaxed a little, and he took a deep breath. “I understand. I just want you to be safe and happy. And I’ll always be here to support you, no matter what.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes glistening with tears of gratitude and love. “Thank you, Carlos. I know we can get through anything together.”

They held each other close, both finding comfort in their mutual declarations of love. The argument and the pain were overshadowed by the deep connection they shared, making their bond even stronger.

In the midst of their emotional turmoil, Carlos and Y/N’s love was reaffirmed, showing that true understanding and support could overcome any challenge.

standing up to hate :

Carlos had been scrolling through his phone, his mood darkening as he saw the comments and posts about his relationship with Y/N. It had been a few months since they’d started dating, and while they’d shared many happy moments, not everyone was supportive. The negativity was starting to weigh on Y/N, even though she kept a brave face.

Carlos was in the paddock at the latest race, talking with some of the other drivers. He glanced over at Y/N, who was chatting with a few friends. She seemed a bit off today, and Carlos could tell that the recent online backlash was affecting her. He had to do something. He was not going to let deranged fans make the woman he loved unhappy.

carlossainz55 just posted!

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

carlossainz55 Hey everyone, I usually keep my personal life private, but today I need to address something important. Recently, there have been some comments and messages about my relationship with Y/N. I want to make it clear that Y/N is an incredible person and she means the world to me. I’m so grateful to have her in my life, and the negative comments really hurt her and myself. She is an incredible person inside and out and if you think otherwise you do not know her well enough. You are NOT A FAN if you continue to hate on my loved ones. The hateful comments from the ones who hide behind the screen are cowardly and hurtful. I’m sharing this because I want to stand up for her and show my love and support towards the woman I have the honor of calling mine. We’ve been through a lot together, and I am proud to call myself her boyfriend. Thank you to those who have supported us, and to those who haven’t, I hope you can understand that love is something we should celebrate, not criticize. and grow up or get off the internet. I love mi amor💛

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yourusername i love you my love! i can't believe you just did this

carlossains55 anything for you amor

LandoNorris Carlos, you’re a legend for this. 💪🏽 Love you both!

DanielRicciardo: Absolutely right, mate. Y/N’s awesome, and anyone who says otherwise doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Cheers to both of you!

OscarPiastri: Carlos, you’re a class act. Sending love to you and Y/N. 🌟

CharlesLeclerc: Proud of you for standing up for Y/N. She’s lucky to have you, and so are you to have her. ❤️

MaxVerstappen33: Proud of you carlitos! Y/N we love you <3

[seat-safety-switch]

Mini-golf is something I've spoken about many times, at great risk to my own life. In my town, you see, the mini-golf industry is represented by an extremely powerful lobby. That's why we have approximately three "courses" for every hundred people, the highest ratio in the world. Why am I against it? No golf carts means no driving.

You might think it's silly to be opposed to mini golf purely on the basis that I don't get to drive a little electric car around the property at irresponsible speeds. I'm sure you have strong opinions about things that I would consider silly, too. That makes you look like an asshole now, doesn't it?

Thing is, enjoying the great outdoors is best done with an open-air vehicle, gazing at the wonders of nature. And even if those wonders of nature have been artificially curated by the same groundskeeper who is now screaming at me for having driven across four sand traps and the country club, it still counts as calming.

Mini-golf? Too damn small. The mind rebels. Not natural, every sense screams, until you end up getting super mad and eject your putter into the parking lot on the 19th stroke on a "par 2" hole while some very patient toddlers wait behind you in line, not yet having been taught the concept of "play-thru," but perhaps also not wanting to pick a fight with a fully-grown adult who achieves apocalyptic rage levels when not operating a motor vehicle.

Now, I've worked out a sort of methadone solution here. Halfway house shit. Because I can't afford to play on the big expensive country club courses (it's sort of a Caddyshack situation, but mostly just the part where they hate me and everything I stand for) I'm stuck with mini-golf, and have to make my time at Al's Little Tee Big Fun and Ed's Big Fun Regular-Sized Balls as enjoyable as possible. That's why I brought a mini-golf-cart.

That's right. For just a few bucks on eBay, you too can avail yourself of a 1:24 scale golf cart that you can take out of your pocket and pretend to drive between the holes. Making vroom-vroom sounds is a little unrealistic for what is supposed to be a brushed-DC forklift motor, but you gotta do what makes you happy. The only downside is that this tiny plastic conveyance came from Playmobil, which almost certainly means it's going to explode in some kind of elaborate German mechanical failure soon. Like the poor guy in the parking lot last time whose GTI had a mini-golf putter get stuck in the windshield.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 11

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Mr. Hansen is right. Your legs are long. Too long. The short skirt makes you feel gawky and overexposed. The tight halter does little to make up for that and the visor around your head can’t hide your shame.  

As he climbs out of the golf cart, you do the same. You cross your arms and stay to the side as he goes to the back of the cart and peruses his bag of clubs. He peers out across the green then back to the collection. He hooks his finger under a hooked foot and slides the club free.  

He slips the cover off and turns the club. He looks at you and smirks as he approaches. 

“How about a personal lesson, Critter? Give you the what about before you get creamed?” He boasts. 

You shrug and drop your arms.  

“Sir,” you agree without agreeing. 

He grabs a tee and a ball and pokes the former into the grass. He waves you over and you approach reluctantly. He flutters his fingers with impatience and reaches for you. He takes your arm and moves you in front of him. 

“Alright, set your feet,” he kicks your shoes and you put your soles flat. “And you wanna push your shoulders back.” 

He reaches around you with the club and guides your hands around it. He squeezes his grip over yours. He’s flush to his back, his breath fanning on your shoulder, as he moves your body with his. 

“Loosen up a bit, swing with your whole body,” his voice is low and silty, not his usual snarl. He leads you in a swing, “twist,” he raises the club, “and follow through.” 

You do your best to let him take control. You’re not exactly listening. You just want this over with. If you give him what he wants, he’ll get bored. That’s the way it is. 

You twitch as he presses his pelvis against your butt. Your lips part but you don’t say anything. It’s nothing. You’re sensitive because you’re not used to so much skin. When he’s done you move away with the club. 

“Ladies first,” he winks, “all yours.” 

He gestures to the ball and you move towards you. You stare down at the dimpled ball, happy he can’t see your face. You don’t care where you hit it. Just hit it. 

You reset your feet like he said. You shift your hips as you hold the club on your own, measuring the weight and balance in your hands. He points out the hole, “somewhere over there, sweetheart.” 

You ignore the pet name and bite your lip. You pull the club up and back and swing through, twisting with the motion. You keep your feet in place as the club meets the ball and you lose track of it as it goes zooming off into the distance. 

Silence. You step back and turn to Mr. Hansen. You hold out the club as he squints into the sky. “Huh.” 

“Is it your go, sir?” You ask as you wiggle the club. 

“Yeah...” he utters and snatches the club. 

He lines up and makes his shot. His ball goes to the left of yours. He tilts his head but doesn’t comment. You’re not sure who’s closer. He spins and shoves the club at you. You take it and put it back in the bag. He’s already behind the wheel of the cart. 

You climb in next to him and fall into the seat as he steps on the gas. You jostle next to him, holding the side to keep from sliding completely across the seat. He reaches over with one hand to steady you, clasping down on your knee. 

You flinch and look down at his hand. The little dots on his glove are rough. As he keeps his grip on the wheel, his touch slowly works up your thigh. You squeak and latch onto his wrist. 

“Mr. Hansen.” 

“Making sure you don’t fall out,” he snickers. “I’d say you’re falling out enough.” 

He slows as he looks over at you, his eyes aimed at the deep vee of the halter. 

“Sir,” your curl your shoulders in. 

“Ah, come on,” he slaps your leg, “it’s a day out of the office. You should be fucking ecstatic.” He rolls the wheel and you lean into him without meaning too. “I’m sure you got all the eligible bachelors lined up and ready to take you out shopping, huh?” 

“Uh, Mr. Hansen, thanks, but uh--” 

“I’m sure Jake loves taking you to the comic store, huh?” 

“Sir, I... Jensen is a co-worker--” 

“Seems real fucking cozy to me. Critter, I know those beady eyes aren’t blind. The way that man drools at your desk,” he tuts, “I need you focused.” He snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Remember who you work for.” 

“Mr. Hansen, I wouldn’t--” 

“You wouldn’t do anything I don’t tell you to do. I know that,” he slaps his hand back on your thigh, higher, right at the edge of your skirt. “Not like last night when you walked out on me.” 

You squirm as his fingers caress your sensitive skin. You never realised how sensitive that part of your leg is. You lean back against the seat and squeak. 

“Sir, please, slow down,” you beg as the car bounces. 

“I told you, you should show these off,” he squeezes your leg. “You can’t even take good advice. You come in dressed like some retiree. You got too much ass for that.” 

“Sir,” you beg and nudge his arm. “This isn’t professional--” 

“What’s not professional,” he slams on the brakes and you lurch forward, his hand slipping up your skirt. You squeal and close your legs around his hand. “Is you fucking flirting with that Big Bang Theory fuck on my pay.” 

“But, Mr. Hansen,” you grab onto his forearm, “I didn’t--” 

“Heard about your trip to IT this morning. Think I don’t know what the fuck is up,” he pinches you and you whine. “You’re getting uppity, Critter. I see it. I tasted it in my fucking coffee.” He rips his hand away and shoves you off the seat. 

You land on the grass with a helpless flail. He gets out and grabs a club from the bag as he rounds the cart. He strides around as he spins it then steadies it, putting it just below your chin. 

“Lucky for you, I’m a spit kinda guy. I just usually don’t partake outside the bedroom,” he puts his cleats on your chest as he pins you on your back. “So, critter, let’s get this straight. Where you are right now, in the dirt, that’s where you belong. So, stop fucking with me.” 

You stare up at him, horrified as the spikes on his shoes bite through the shirt and your skin. 

“Mr. Hansen--” 

“And the next time you talk to that jizzhole, I’ll have my nine iron ready to knock his block off. Got it?” 

“Ow, please--” 

“No, you say it. Say ‘yes, Mr. Hansen.’” 

You writhe and dig your heels into the grass as his cleats sink in further and he pushes your chin up with the club. 

“Yes, Mr. Hansen,” you whimper. 

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

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

Pardon my terrible golf knowledge...

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘’Rafe?’’

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

‘’You’re my 9am client?’’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘’Want to have a try?’’

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

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

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

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

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

So many instructions.

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

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

‘’And now I swing?’’

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shaking that thought from your head. Focus.

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

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

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

Please do, you almost let slip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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[inevesgf]

MINE ALL MINE ⠀,⠀ stephen tries.

synopsis ✩ what it’s like dating stephen tries.

warnings: mentions of sex, f!reader.

authors note: oh god do i have big plans .. i absolutely love writing these lil headcanons so i’m planning on continuing that in the future with a few other creators in mind. currently whipped for willne + chris as ALWAYS — in the works of another chris fic which is going to be such a loonngg one. love yous x

• such a sucker for physical touch and quality time.

• no matter how busy he is with filming and with other events, he always makes time for you.

• date night is NECESSARY. you each switch back and forth every other week planning a date night.

• you both equally enjoy nights in and nights out together — but overall you both prefer to spend time alone together.

• fancy dinner dates? yes! mario kart dates where you scream and call each other cunts when you loose? yes!

• never a dull moment with stephen when you’re alone together. one moment he will be cuddling and kissing you and the next he’ll tickle you until you cannot breath

• equally loves to be the big spoon as he does the little spoon.

• loves to lay his head on your lap while you two watch a film together. he almost falls asleep every time you play with his hair but he LOVES it.

• very cliche, but in the best way possible.

• loves to surprise you with random little gifts like sweets when he stops by the shops, bouquets of your favorite flowers for special occasions and treating you to dinner even when it’s not date night.

• tits or ass? no, stephen is a THIGH GUY hence loving to lay his head on your thighs.

• loves giving more than receiving! likes to be between your thighs, leaving little love marks only he can see.

• likes pda, but isn’t excessive with it.

• will hold your hand when you’re out with friends and snake his arm around your shoulder as you two walk.

• when hes drunk, he’s a little more touchy.

• he’ll pepper you in kisses all over your face, allowing himself to be clingy towards you.

• i imagine one of the others who did football pub golf for chris’ channel having to text you to come get stephen after the shoot because he’s absolutely battered.

• snakes his arms around your waist the second he sees you gives you the wettest, yet short smooch on your cheek.

• very lovey when he’s sober, but MORE lovey when he’s drunk.

• when you get home, you insist he relaxes and drinks some water, but all he wants to do is lay in your arms and take a nap.

• the type of boyfriend to tell you he loves you at the most random times — whether you’re cooking, editing a video or even just sitting there doing nothing.

• prefers soft and slow sex compared to fast and lustful. just likes to be as close to you as possible

• talks about you a lot to his friends ( who find it so cute, mind you ), but this does result in them sort of making fun of him for it.

• the boys hit him with the “howd you manage that? she’s fitter than you” but he knows that doesn’t make a difference in your love for him.

• you two definitely have a shared playlist of love songs that remind you of each other and your favorite songs to listen to eachother. lots of djo, the 1975 and hozier on it!

• his music taste is basically just your music taste because of how often he listens to the playlist.

• obsessed when you wear his clothes. like this man will NOT stop staring at you when you wear his sweaters or his t shirts.

• half of your wardrobe is probably his old tees, but he does not mind one bit because of how gorgeous you look.

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part thirty-six] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, alcohol

word count: 3k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

“Nice hat.”

You gave Minho a sideways look. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s cute.”

You tipped the brim at him, grinning. “Thank you. Jisung picked it out.”

“He has good taste.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to the double entendre so you didn’t, choosing instead to direct your attention forward, where your fake boyfriend was teeing up. 

Back at school, Jisung had gone off to play golf with a few of your mutual friends once or twice, but it was an expensive hobby, and as broke college students, they couldn’t exactly make a habit out of it. For a little while, Jisung worked as an assistant chef at a nearby country club for a couple of months which allowed him free access to their course in his off time, but juggling the job and his studies quickly became too much to handle and he couldn’t even keep up with his responsibilities, let alone have any free time to take advantage of the course. 

Considering how long it had been since he last played, you weren’t expecting much from Jisung’s first swing, but when he stuck the golf ball with his club, it actually went relatively far. Of course, you didn’t have much knowledge of the sport to go off of when it came to gauging how well he was actually doing, but from the looks on his brothers’ faces, you assumed he’d done pretty well. 

“Good job!” you cheered, running up to your best friend and kissing him on the cheek. “That was good right?”

He caught you with an arm around your waist and pulled you close. “Thanks, baby. It wasn’t bad, but it could have been better.”

“Whatever, you’re just being humble.”

“He’s not,” Felix piped up from behind the two of you. “Let me show you how a real golfer plays.”

You rolled your eyes in unison with Jisung but stepped back to let Felix tee up anyway, both watching as he took a couple of practice swings. 

“How much do you want to bet he comes in last?” Jisung muttered in your ear. 

“I’m not willing to go bankrupt over this, sorry.”

Jisung snorted and tried to muffle his laugh in your shoulder but it was still loud enough for his twin to hear. 

“Oi! I don’t want to hear it when you’re up thirty points over me.”

“Yeah, we’ll see, Lix,” Jisung scoffed. “Just swing already! We don’t have all day, mate.”

Felix shot his brother a look but did as he was told. He rolled his shoulders and focused in on the ball, huffing out a breath and drawing the club back over his shoulder. He put more power into his swing than Jisung had but hit the ball with the edge of the clubhead instead of the center which sent it flying a little off to the left. From what you could see, the ball still landed on the pitch. It hadn’t gone into the trees or the lake, it was just in a trickier spot to clear. 

“What was that you were saying about points?” Jisung asked smugly.

Felix groaned and turned back around to argue with him as Minho came up and took his place at the starting point. 

“It’s going to be a long day, isn’t it?” you muttered to Minho. 

He gave you a tight half-smile and shrugged. “You have no idea.”

-

It had only been an hour since the boys started and you didn’t think you’d ever heard so many insults and curse words thrown around in such a short amount of time, which was saying something. 

Jisung, Felix, and Minho were all neck and neck with each other, with Dom far ahead of all three of them. 

The course itself was beautiful. It was just across the street from the resort you were staying at, right on the edge of the water. You were able to see the ocean from the tops of the faux hills on the green, sparkling with the reflection of the sun. The waves were dotted with little boats and surfers all enjoying the good weather and making the most out of the afternoon.

You would have been content to spend all day there if it wasn’t so hot and you weren’t forced to stand around listening to your best friend argue with his brothers.

“How many more holes are there?” you asked Nikki, leaning over and whispering quietly so that the others wouldn’t hear you. 

“Too many.”

“Kill me now.” 

“Why don’t we get ourselves a drink when the cart girl comes around? It’ll make the time go faster.”

You grinned. “I like the way you think.”

-

You weren’t a stranger to day drinking, not by a long shot, but you didn’t want to get too sloppy while the sun was still up. You had long since given up on the little pact you’d made with yourself not to drink for the remainder of the trip— not that you’d ever really followed it in the first place. Nikki got herself a High Noon when the aforementioned cart girl came by, so you did the same, insisting on covering the tab for both of you.

“Please?” you practically begged. “It’s literally the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me.”

She seemed to think about it for a minute. “Fine. I’ll let you do it this one time. But don’t get used to it.”

You did a little dance in celebration and handed over some cash to the cart girl after she popped the tabs on both of your cans. 

“Want anything?” you called to the boys. “It’s on me!”

Felix was the only one to take you up on the offer, both Minho and Jisung making a fuss about not spending your money on them. Where was this attitude back at school? you asked yourself, scoffing at Jisung’s refusal. 

“I’m in the lead, I can’t afford to lower my inhibitions now!” Dom said. “But when I win, I’ll treat you to a pint, even though you’re canoodling with one of my opponents.” 

“I’m starting to think you guys have something against me,” you accused the two non-participants as you handed Felix his beer. “What, do you think I’m broke?”

“We’re just gentlemen,” Minho said pointedly, shooting Felix a look.

“You are broke,” Jisung muttered.

“Watch it,” you shot, waving your drink at him. “You’re not getting a sip now.”

“Babe, I didn’t want a sip to begin with.”

“Okay, well even if you change your mind you can’t have one.” 

He laughed and shook his head at the ground, walking back over to the teeing-off point with his hands on his hips.

Nikki was right, the afternoon did indeed pass a lot quicker with drinks in your hands. They kept you cool in the heat of the sun and the alcohol made the hours blend into each other.

In the latter half of the game, you started to pay more attention. You had finally begun to pick up what was good and what was bad from everyone else’s reactions to the shots and could actually tell for yourself. 

“Baby, can you switch this out for the driver?” Jisung asked, holding his current club out to you.

“Which one is that?” 

“The big one.” 

You selected the club he described and passed it to him, taking the one he’d just used to put back in the golf bag. He kissed you when you met him in the middle to swap the two, smiling against you when he noticed Minho looking on. 

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” he whispered in your ear. “It’s too fun to fuck with him.”

Confused, you turned around to see what he was talking about only to see Minho standing a few feet away with his tongue in his cheek. 

“Thanks, baby,” Jisung said, putting his hand on the small of your back to remind you of what you were doing. “You make a cute caddy.”

Minho mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t catch but you figured that was probably for the best.

-

After golf, you hung out with Jisung’s family at the pool for a few hours before heading back up to the rooms to get ready for dinner. 

“Do we need to dress nice?” you asked.

Jisung peeked out from the bathroom to answer you, shaking his wet hair dry with a towel. 

“Uh, not like nice, nice but nicer than just jeans.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

You turned back to your open suitcase and rifled through it in search of something that fit the dress code.

“By the way, where did you go last night?” 

“With Minho?”

“Yeah, you were gone for like hours. I fell asleep and then woke up randomly and you still weren’t back.”

“Minho took me to some beach.”

“Did you have sex with him?”

You looked up. “Yeah. Why?”

Jisung shrugged. “Just wondering.”

You could tell he wanted to say more but you didn’t push. If you did, you’d only be hurting your own feelings. He had told you that himself. Jisung had been very clear that he wasn’t ready to talk about the Minho thing with you so all you could do was be honest and answer the questions that he asked, even if it was awkward and uncomfortable. 

You were so used to guilt by now that you almost didn’t notice the fresh wave that washed over you. You knew it was wrong to still sleep with Minho after everything— hell, you knew it was wrong before everything, but neither of those facts stopped you from doing it. 

You realized Jisung was still looking at you so you shook it off and picked up a random sundress from your luggage. 

“How’s this for tonight?”

“Looks good to me.”

An hour later, you and the rest of the Hans were seated around a table in a dimly lit restaurant. The sundress had been the right choice. The place was right on the water and open to the outdoor air so all of the other patrons were dressed pretty similarly. 

Jisung ordered for you after you looked over the menu together like always. Your hands rested on the table, fingers entwined for his family to see. You had been doing this for so long now that it was almost second nature to you. You had fallen into the routine a long time ago but you didn’t even have to think about it anymore. You probably wouldn’t even be giving the action a second thought had it not been for Minho staring at your hands from across the table. 

It looked like he was zoning out, like he wasn’t actually glaring at you holding hands with his brother but you couldn’t be sure. You kicked him gently in the shin to get his attention. He jolted and locked eyes with you immediately, erasing any trace of subtly.

“You okay there, son?” Dom asked, patting Minho on the back. 

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine. Just got a chill.”

Thankfully, everyone seemed to move past it and the conversation resumed. Dinner was otherwise uneventful. The boys recounted the golf game and Dom’s landslide win, while you just listened and nodded along when it felt right. It was a relief not to have to add anything to the discussion. You didn’t have the energy to. 

Dom stayed true to his word from earlier and bought everyone a round from the bar at the restaurant. You weren’t a big beer drinker but you didn’t want to be rude so you suffered through the whole pint, ignoring Jisung’s worried glances from the side. 

“You know I could have finished that for you,” he muttered. 

“I don’t want to look like a pussy in front of your dad,” you hissed back. “He bought it for us. And I didn’t want to be left out.”

Your best friend scoffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’ll do anything to prove a point, won’t you?”

“You know me.”

-

Minho pulled you aside after dinner, once you were back at the resort. 

“Think you can ditch your ‘boyfriend’?” he whispered as you both fell back a couple of steps.

You stopped. “What, why?”

“I just want a moment alone with you.”

“A moment or several moments?” you challenged. 

He smirked. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”

“I can’t keep blowing Jisung off,” you sighed, “and neither can you.’

“You know he doesn’t want anything to do with me right now.”

“That doesn’t mean you should stop trying!”

“Look, can we not do this right now? When they’re literally right there?”

“You’re the one who pulled me aside right in front of them.”

You watched his jaw clench in frustration but he didn’t say anything else because he knew you were right. 

“Can you ditch him or not?”

You sighed again and looked back to Jisung. He was in what looked to be a heated debate with Felix. You didn’t need to hear it to know it was over something stupid.  

“I’ll see what I can do.”

-

Jisung barely bat an eye when you told him where you were going. 

“Okay, be safe,” he said as he kicked off his shoes. 

That’s it? That’s all he had to say to you? You wanted to ask him just that, but you were afraid of creating another rift between the two of you. Jisung had said he wasn’t ready to talk about it so you shouldn’t push, right? But was it wrong to keep leaving like this?

Going back and forth with yourself was only wasting time and Minho was still waiting for you downstairs. Fuck it. 

You grabbed a spare room key from the dresser, shoved it in the pocket of your dress, and left without another word before you could change your mind. 

Minho was right where you left him, leaning against the wall by the elevator hub. He grinned when he saw you. 

“Thought you’d never escape.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you let him lead you through the lobby by the hand. You were still wary of people seeing you together but the lobby was seemingly empty. 

“Jisung didn’t care. It was me who took forever.”

Minho paused, letting go of your hand as he gave you a concerned once over. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I don’t really want to talk about it. So, where are we going?”

He frowned, but only momentarily, quickly covering it up with a smile. “I- okay, um... remember how you said we don’t do ‘couple stuff’?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought maybe I could take you somewhere where we can do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m taking you on a date, silly.”

“Really? Where?” When he didn’t answer, you groaned. “You and your stupid surprises.”

“It’s more fun this way and you know it,” he insisted, tugging you along by the hand.

“I like being prepared,” you argued. 

He grinned. “So be prepared for a good time.”

The drive wasn’t far at all this time but you were confused when he pulled into a crowded lot. You were even more confused when he didn’t turn off the car or more to get out of it. 

You turned to him in confusion. “Minho?”

“Y/n?” he parroted. 

“Where are we?”

“We’re on our date.”

“Yes, but where?”

“Did you not see the sign when we turned in?” You shook your head. He grinned. “It’s a drive-in.”

“Really?”

“Why do you think no one’s getting out of their car?” 

“I didn’t really notice, to be honest.”

“Too distracted by your hot date?” 

You didn’t spare him a reaction. “How’d you find this place?” 

“I did some research the other night,” he explained, “when you, you know, we talked about it. I figured this is about as close as we could get to a real date. At least right now.”

“That’s… really thoughtful.”

He shrugged. “Nah, it’s nothing, really.” 

“Well I was going to kiss you, but if it’s nothing—”

“No, no. I want the kiss. Give me my kiss.”

You chuckled, relenting as you leaned in. He met you halfway over the center console and kissed you sweetly. It was short but eager, just enough to leave you wanting more. 

You had to remind yourself not to get your hopes up. Sure, Minho was showing interest in you now, but what about when this was all over? Would he want to do long-distance? Did he want to date you at all? You had been telling yourself that it was just sex all this time but now you were on a date... but what did it mean? You could just ask but you were scared to ruin the moment, ruin whatever it was that was actually going on. 

You’d been asking yourself the same questions for weeks now and the scary thing was, it seemed like Minho was serious about you. He had all but said it outright to you. And here he was taking you on a fucking date. It was you who kept pushing back. You told yourself it was because of Jisung, but if you were being honest with yourself that was only half of it. You were afraid of getting hurt. You had never been in a real relationship before for that very reason. Well, that and you liked being single. It seemed favorable considering the dating pool of your university. 

“I want another one,” Minho murmured, leaning in again. 

“Nope, that’s all you get for now,” you teased, even though you did very much want to kiss him again. 

His lips parted in surprise. “Wha- why?”

“Because I only promised you one! I can’t just go giving my kisses away, can I?”

“Sure you can,” he argued. 

“That would lessen their value. I can’t wager them to get what I want if they’re not worth anything.”

“Your kisses are very valuable to me,” Minho insisted. 

“Because I’m sparing with them.”

Minho inched even closer to your face, eyes trained on your mouth. “So I can earn them,” you started to nod, “if I’m a good boy?” 

You almost choked on nothing, swallowing a moan. Minho watched your reaction with a self-satisfied smile and then settled back in his seat, turning his attention to the giant projector screen at the front of the parking lot. 

“We’ll see,” you muttered hoarsely.

He hummed, still looking forward. “I’ll be good then.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

[formulakatya]

MET YOU AT THE RIGHT TIME | MICK SCHUMACHER

"living in a movie i've watched and funny, cause you couldn't have called it, met you at the right time, this is what it feels like"

not my gif :)

part 1

summary: where your best friend is sick of you thinking your not deserving of love and so she introduces you to a certain someone

pairing: mick schumacher x professional golfer!reader

notes: hi! sorry for the long wait but part 2 of ‘this is what it feels like’ is finally out, thank you for your patience 😭🤍

warnings: a universe where mick is in ferrari and ferrari aren’t idiots

—

“amazing drive, mick!” you smiled, congratulating the german, “congrats on that win!”

“thank you, (y/n),” mick smiled shyly as both of you exited the paddock and walked down the streets of monaco, the sun setting as nighttime came. “so, uhm…how’s golf going? lily says you’re amazing at it.”

chuckling, you shook your head, “i hope she didn’t oversell me to you.” smiling as mick let out a laugh, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh of your own. “well, i just won my first major— the chevron championship— uhm, and i also managed to win the cognizant founders cup after that…before that i won the honda lpga tournament in thailand.”

“your kidding!” mick exclaimed, looking at you.

“oh no, did she oversell me? because if she did—“

“no, no! absolutely not,” mick smiled. “she talks about you a lot and before i met you i already had a good impression of you based off the things she said…and then i met you and you’re really just as much of an angel as she says you are,” he chuckled.

“really?”

“yeah,” he nodded, “and for the record, she never told me you were winning tournaments left and right…when’s your next one?”

“the lotte championship in hawaii,” you replied, “and why are we only talking about me? come on, lily says you have a dog!”

“she told you about angie?” he smiled as he scrolled through his camera roll quickly to find a picture, “she’s an australian shepherd.”

“stop, she’s so cute,” you shook your head, “i wish i had a dog…”

“i’ll let you meet angie one day.”

“please, that’ll be a dream come true.” laughing, you averted your gaze to the sunset as the both of you neared the restaurant.

mick smiled, admiring you for a split second. “am i allowed to say you’re pretty or is that too soon?”

—

you let out a deep breath as you took your driver from your caddy. spectators were crowded as they watched your group since you were the favourite to win. and you weren’t going to let the pressure get to you, absolutely not.

“approaching the tee, (y/n) (l/n)”

looking out into the fairway, you went through your pre shot routine before addressing the ball. drawing your club back, it wasn’t soon until the piercing sound of your metal club against the ball was heard as you looked where the ball went— twirling your club as you did so.

well done, good shot.

the other 2 players making their way to the fairway as soon as you picked up your tee and walked to your caddy, you gave a smile as you followed your fellow players to the fairway. whispering words of encouragement under your breath, you kept yourself calm as you found your ball in no time.

holding back a laugh upon seeing the small formula one car drawing stamped onto your ball, you looked at your caddy who gave you a thumbs up in encouragement before giving a glance into the crowd.

and you could’ve swore you saw someone you knew there.

gripping your club, you let a deep breath out as you repeated the same routine as before. swinging the golf club, the satisfying sound could be heard once again. squinting your eyes as your gaze watched the direction, you crossed your fingers together as it landed onto the green.

“not bad,” you chuckled, shrugging as you passed your club back to your caddy. “also is it just me or are my friends in the crowd?”

“it’s possible,” he shrugged, laughing as you two approached the green, your eyes glancing around the crowds before returning your focus back to the green as you did a quick analysis.

from where you were it would be a left to right, fast downhill putt. if you were able to find the right line and speed, you’d birdie the hole. and despite not knowing what your score was at the time, it was clear that it would be a putt that would decide your fate as a winner or the first of losers. marking your ball, you took another deep breath before stepping away, watching as your competitor run through her routine before making her putt.

the air grew tense as you wiped the sweat off your head, patiently waiting for your turn.

time seemed to slow down as you set up, your eyes focused on the ball as you concentrated on your putt. the soft sound of the metal hitting the ball could be heard as you watched the small golf ball roll down the green.

“go, go, go,” you mumbled under your breath, watching nervously as the ball slowed down as it approached the hole. “YES!”

smiling as you gave a hug to your caddy, thanking him for his congratulations as you quickly searched the bustling crowd with your, shaking hands with your competitors before you went on the search— confident that you’d find someone you knew in the crowd.

“(y/n)!” the familiar voice of lily could be heard as she squeezed her way to the front of the crowd, “that was amazing! oh my gosh! congratulations!”

“thank you so much, lily,” you smiled as you hugged her before pulling away only to see alex and a familiar blonde stood behind. “mick?”

“hi,” he smiled, giving a shy chuckle as he waved his hand. “lily said you’d be playing so i decided to come. congrats!”

“thanks, mick,” you smiled, a light blush forming on your cheeks as he pulled you into a tight hug, “it means a lot.”

“do you wanna go out to celebrate? dinner’s on me.”

“but you payed last time!” you exclaimed, “let me pay!”

“then take it as a date,” he shrugged. “and let me pay, my love.”

—

“i’m still mad you didn’t let me pay.”

“well…” he chuckled, “that prize money isn’t spending itself and i much rather spend it on a girl like you.”

“and no one else?” you asked playfully, resting your head on your palm as you looked outside the window.

“only a fool wouldn’t choose you,” he paused, “and based off my results in school, i count myself a genius.”

[misshoneyimhome]

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

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

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

Word count; 1.7K

➼｡ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was miserable without you, and the pain just wasn't lessening even though you left him weeks ago. He needed to find a way to move on, because you didn't want him, and you weren't coming back. But he should have known there was no substitute for the best thing he'd ever had.

Warnings: Swears, broken heart, angst, consensual sex, sex with a condom while intoxicated (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Weeks later...

As you flew to Vancouver from Detroit, you thought about that six hour flight to Boston where you hadn't stopped crying for a single minute. You thought about leaving San Diego and how it broke your heart to move on to the next city and the next assignment. At least this time you had a window seat instead of the middle seat in the last row. And this time you weren't continually wiping your tears on Bradley's Padres jersey. 

You had his jersey on again today, but this time you felt calm as you reached into your bag to take out your computer and read over the research you'd outlined about the Vancouver Canucks. Your eyes caught on the blue golf ball, and after a second of hesitation, you reached for that instead. 

You'd taken it everywhere with you. It joined you in every hotel room, on every flight and in every rental car. You had it with you in your tote bag when you were in Boston about a month ago working on the exclusive with the Bruins' coaching staff. You were carrying it when you bumped into Abigail Archer for the first time in person. 

With your article completely forgotten now, you dug your phone out of your pocket. It was in airplane mode, but you took a deep breath and unlocked it. You had to scroll a bit to get to the text thread with Bradley, and then you tapped his name and you almost let the tears rise to the surface. You held them back as you read the series of sporadic messages he'd sent you since early November.

I miss you. 

Did you make it to Boston safely?

Ace, please call me back. I miss you so much. 

I have this whole weekend off, and I can't help but think it would be easy for me to fly to wherever you are. If you would want that. 

I still miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

You hadn't responded to a single one of them. And you never called him back either. But sometimes, when you were in a hotel room in a city that you couldn't even identify without looking at your calendar app, you'd get lonely enough to listen to his voicemail message. See ya, Ace.

It took until you met Bradley Bradshaw for you to really understand just how lonely you were. Going back to your apartment in New York City didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there that made you smile. There were no baseball cards or too small Angels tee shirts. There was no Bradley making sure you were taking a break when you needed one. 

And he was part of the reason why you let yourself start to be convinced that you could have more out of your career. Maybe he was right. Somebody else might have something better to offer than Greg or the New York Times. When you talked to Abigail and started to test the waters, it wasn't as terrifying as you thought it would be. Making some calls to see what else was out there ended up validating one fact for you: Bradley was right, your writing was in high demand.

But you had to complete your contract with Greg before you could do much else. And that included Detroit and Vancouver. But you hoped after this, your work-life balance might improve. If you decided to take this information back to Bradley, you hoped he would listen to you. Maybe he would even see what you wrote about your career change in your Detroit Red Wings article. If he was even still reading your articles. There was a chance he might still miss you now, and maybe he'd understand that you needed to see the bigger picture for yourself first. 

Before you left him alone in his bed, he told you that you knew where to find him. He made you feel like it was still okay to go there.

--------------------------

Bradley walked past his coffee table dressed in his flight suit with his travel mug of coffee in his hand. He paused at the front door and looked back at the mess he still couldn't bring himself to clean up. You left him weeks ago, damn near a month ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up all of the fucking baseball cards. 

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was being ridiculous. He was never ridiculous before he met you, so you must have made him this way. Every time he tried to clean them up and put them back out in his garage, his hands faltered and he left the cards out on the table. It was like some sort of sick reminder that you'd really been here with him. It was a way to convince himself he didn't imagine up the perfect woman in his mind and then have to live through the aftermath of watching her leave. 

He tightened his fingers around his mug and rubbed the heel of his other hand against his eyes. Then he took his phone out. He knew he shouldn't do it since you never answered his other messages before, but he texted you anyway. 

I hope you're doing well.

When he re-read what he'd sent, he started to panic. It sort of sounded like he meant it with an air of finality. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he didn't want to hear from you, because it was quite the opposite. There were times when he felt so lonely, he'd have done anything for you to write to him or call him back. 

He swore he could still smell you in his house, and right now it felt a little too much like you were there. He wrenched his front door open and slammed it closed behind him, breathing in the crisp December morning air. He had to start making some changes, and he needed to do it this week. You weren't going to respond to him. After four weeks he should accept that as a fact and stop bugging you. 

He'd been skipping Hard Deck nights and leaving the locker room after work without really talking to anyone. Nat knew why he was miserable, but even she seemed surprised it had gone on for this long. 

A few days ago, she said, "You've never behaved like this over a woman before. This has all just been very surprising, and I don't know how to help you."

Bradley had shrugged and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I fell in love with her. First time for everything, right? I'll know better for next time."

And that was the truly fucked up part. He had fallen in love with you over the course of ten days. As he drove to work, he thought about your face and your voice. He knew exactly how many miles he put on his Bronco driving back and forth to see you at the games in Anaheim. He knew exactly how much money he spent on all the tickets. He knew how badly it hurt right now to be without you. And he knew he'd repeat everything all over again if he could see you for five minutes. 

Just like every other day, he had to collect himself before he could head inside to the locker room. There was no getting his time with you back. There was no second chance. There was no communication. He needed to stop. He took off his aviators that you'd liked so much and set them in his cup holder. When he checked the time on his phone, he had a notification that a new article from you had been posted eight minutes ago. It was like this every day. He'd wait to see each morning if you'd written anything, and then after it was posted, he'd read it at least three times. 

Your final World Series article was the worst one. It was released two days after you left. He must have read it a hundred times. He'd even take a screenshot of the short passage he was certain was about him.

This World Series was exciting and dynamic for so many reasons. We witnessed some of the best major league pitching in the last decade, and there were more stolen bases than the past three finals combined. Professionally, I may never witness anything like this again. And I can even tell you that on a personal level, I was profoundly changed for the better by everything I allowed myself to experience and enjoy between San Diego and Anaheim over the course of the series.

Bradley looked at his phone screen now. It had to stop. He desperately wanted to read your article on the Detroit Red Wings, but he needed to make this feeling stop. It was like he was constantly in pain every time he thought about you or even simply read your name on his phone. Your written words were never going to help him move on, so he needed to do something about it right now while he felt like he could. 

He deleted the New York Times app. He thought about deleting your number as well, but he needed to save some of his strength to get through his workday. So he just tucked his phone in his pocket and climbed out of the Bronco.

---------------------------

When Bradley walked into the Hard Deck on Friday night after work, he felt defeated and exhausted. He managed to delete the app you wrote for, but he still couldn't bring himself to delete your phone number. Moving on was a necessity right now. He didn't even know why he bothered to come to the bar, but staying home and looking at baseball cards on his coffee table didn't seem to be helping him. 

"You're here!" Nat called out as soon as he walked inside. The bar was decorated for Christmas. Was it that close to the holidays? He'd completely lost track of the weeks, but at the same time, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he'd seen you. His mind was too aware of that number, and it tacked a new one on each day. 

"Hey," Bradley managed to grunt when his friend came over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The Christmas tree and the strings of lights blurred, and he had to close his eyes. He was missing the feel of your arms around him and the way you smelled. None of this was Nat's fault or anyone's fault really. Bradley didn't even blame you. He couldn't. You and he were nothing. 

"Let me get you a drink," Nat whispered, and she took him by the hand. He recognized the upbeat Christmas song, and he saw the guys waving from the pool table. But when he turned to face the bar, Shannon was right there with her usual smile and a pint glass in her hand. He didn't know why he wasn't expecting her. The last time he saw her was when he brought you here, and he'd give anything to go back to that night. 

Bradley just shook his head. "Something stronger. Please." Shannon raised one eyebrow at him and set the pint glass down in favor of a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. "Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around in a few weeks," she said, watching the amber liquid slosh neatly up the side of the glass as she poured. "Kinda missed you." She met his eyes as she pushed the glass across the bar. "You look so sad."

He held eye contact with her, trying his best to push the intrusive thoughts away. "Maybe I'll be around more now," he muttered, downing the whole drink in one go and setting the glass down again. 

Shannon was familiar to him. Comfortable. He'd been messing around with women for damn near two decades without any deep feelings. You were really his first foray into something... more. But you were gone. You didn't want to talk to him. You weren't coming back.

She refilled his glass and said, "Take this one a little slower, Bradley." He nodded before downing it just like the first one, and she kind of smirked and shook her head. "You'll pay for this in the morning."

He laughed sardonically. "That's the idea." He left the empty glass on the bar with a little nod indicating that he would be back. He desperately needed to clear his head, but he'd been trying everything for weeks. Taking a walk outside, having a cold shower, going for a drive. Nothing fucking helped. 

He needed to forget the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. So he drank an extravagant amount of Johnnie Walker on Nat's tab, and he started to feel looser. He laughed at her when she asked how many he had so far. 

"Don't worry. I'll pay you back," he rasped with a smile that he knew could charm every woman except for his best friend. 

She just rubbed her hand up and down his arm and said, "I hope you know what you're doing. Let me know when you want me to get you home."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Nat. Just fine." He finished his tumbler and tried to remember if that was his fifth or his sixth, but it didn't matter. He was warm now, and his lips were a little numb. This was exactly what he needed tonight. After he shot a round of pool and lost, he flipped through the jukebox, but it was all bullshit Christmas music. He wasn't in the mood. He thought about playing the piano, but there was an empty stool at the bar now, so he headed in that direction.

"One more?" Bradley asked Shannon as he sat, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

"You sure you really need one?"

"Yep," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat as she swam out of focus for a split second. "Just one more. It'll make it easier." 

She turned away from him to get one more clean glass. Then she filled it for him. "Thanks, Shannon," he muttered when she set it down in front of him. He was leaning on his propped up hand, and he knew she was kind of pretty. But he knew you were prettier and funnier and smarter. 

"You can't have what you want," he mumbled to himself after Shannon walked away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and just looked at the screen. Delete it. He had to. He opened his contacts, and there you were right at the fucking top. 

Ace

You'd always be at the top, wouldn't you? 

Instead of deleting your number, he sent you a text before he could reconsider. 

Ace, I fell in love with you.

Fuck. Fuck! You didn't want him. And there was no way to take that message back now. He closed his eyes and shook his head, because he couldn't tell if he was about to cry or laugh. He was fucking miserable. Truly, he'd never experienced this before, and it hurt like hell. His thumb hovered over your name once again, but he couldn't delete it. He drank the whiskey and tried again. But still nothing. 

He watched Shannon move around behind the bar. She wasn't you. She wasn't what he wanted, but when she announced that it was last call, she made her way over to him. 

"But no more for you," she teased, reaching to take his glass away. But he had her wrist in his hand before he registered what he was doing. She looked a little surprised. The tears were in his eyes again, but maybe it wasn't so obvious to her. He couldn't say the words. He needed her to be the one. When he licked his lips, she leaned a little closer. "I'm done in fifteen. Are you interested? Or are you too drunk?"

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed. He needed to try to move on. The pain needed to stop, or else he didn't know what he would do. Right now he was numb enough. It was now or never. "I'm interested."

Bradley was very aware of what he was doing, it just vaguely seemed like someone else was doing it. He gave his keys to Shannon once they were outside. "Remember where I live?" he asked, walking toward the Bronco. 

"Of course I do," she whispered. 

He found himself with his back against the passenger side door with Shannon's lips on his. It felt fine. Would probably feel better the more he got used to it again. He could do this. He kissed her back and told her to drive, because he knew he shouldn't. 

She drove and parked and took him by the hand, leading him inside his house. As soon as he saw the baseball cards, he wanted to upend his coffee table. He wanted to do this and get it over with and go to sleep for a week. And if he didn't feel better after that, then he didn't know what he was going to do. 

When Shannon tried to turn on his bedroom light, he took her hand in his and guided it away from the switch. "Too bright," he mumbled, and she started to get undressed. He stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. When he looked in the mirror, he'd never seen anything quite so pitiful. He splashed a little water on his face, but it just made his flushed cheeks stand out more. He dug around under the sink for some condoms he thought he still had. When his hand closed around the box, he sat back against the wall and cried. 

He had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. He took his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. You didn't want him. He went back to his bedroom where Shannon was naked on his bed, her skin glowing in the light filtering in from the bathroom where he forgot to flip the switch off.

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. But she must have taken that as a sign that he was ready to go. He wasn't, but he told himself he was. She touched him, and he let her. She kissed him some more, and he let her do that, too. He reciprocated. He knew to do that much. But it didn't feel like anything. He fucked her, but it just wasn't right. And then he fell asleep with a throbbing head and an aching heart and the wrong woman next to him. 

-----------------------

It had been years since Bradley had a hangover. When he opened his eyes, his left arm was hanging off of his bed, and his face was halfway smashed in his pillow. His mouth was completely dry, and he tried to press his lips together and swallow. He had no idea how he got home or what time it was. 

"Oh, shit," he groaned. He texted you last night. When he was sitting at the bar. He was pretty sure he told you he fell in love with you. He knew you wouldn't write back. You must have blocked his number by now. He was probably texting nobody by this point, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't want him the way he wanted you.

Then he remembered what he did after he texted you, and the bile rose in his throat so quickly. Shannon was right there next to him when he turned his head. He let her sleep over. He never let her sleep over before this. She was in your spot. He needed her gone immediately. 

"Hey," he grunted, his throat like sandpaper. "Shannon. You need to leave." 

She rolled over and glared at him. "Still tired," she whispered, completely naked in his bed. 

"Please," he begged. He was so fucking stupid, it was incredible. Now he was miserable and hungover and angry with himself. "I need you to."

She sighed and stretched, and Bradley made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping on a condom wrapper on the way. At least there was that. Then he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He sat back against the wall for a few minutes, afraid there might be more he had to throw up. He knew his head was throbbing due more to the fact that he regretted everything he did last night with Shannon than him drinking most of a bottle of whiskey. 

There was tapping on the door. "If you want me to leave, I need to use the bathroom."

"Give me a minute," he groaned, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. When he brushed his teeth, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes once again. Was this ever going to stop? It had been more than a month. 

Bradley rinsed his mouth and opened the door, barely looking at Shannon as she walked past him, still naked. He went back into his bedroom for a pair of clean underwear and some gym shorts and fought the urge to put all of his bedding in the washing machine. He couldn't even be in here right now, so he left for the kitchen. And he passed the fucking baseball cards again. He would have to throw them away or ask someone to come get them, because he needed them gone as much as he needed Shannon to leave. 

As he turned on his coffee maker, he heard someone knocking on his front door. He already wanted this fucking day to end. He tried not to look at the baseball cards as he passed the table and wrenched his front door open, and then his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Bradley. Hi."

He braced his hand against the door frame as he looked at you standing there on his tiny porch. You were wearing his Padres jersey. He had to be hallucinating. This had to be a dream. You were here.

"Ace."

He watched your face light up at the nickname, and you laughed softly as you examined him like you'd been dying to see him. He gripped the doorframe a little harder as he reached his other hand out to cup your chin and feel your silky skin.

"Holy shit, Baby. What are you doing here?" His heart was pounding, but he felt somehow normal again. Just like he had five weeks ago before you left him in a state of panic. 

"I came to see you." He stroked his thumb along your lip, but you didn't back away. In fact you took a tiny step closer as you added, "I have to be up in Anaheim tomorrow afternoon for some Ducks interviews, but I wanted to see you first. I thought we could talk."

Your eyes were open and earnest, and Bradley felt weak as he looked at his jersey on you. He let his hand drop away from your face, because he had no idea what to say to you right now. He had convinced himself he'd never see you again. "Did you get my texts? Or did you block my number?"

You pressed your lips together and then whispered, "I got your texts. And I've listened to your voicemail a lot. I've missed you." Bradley watched you smile tentatively and give him a little shrug. 

"You missed me," he said in disbelief. "And you got my messages. And you missed me. And you're wearing my jersey."

You looked down at yourself and laughed. "I've been wearing pretty frequently, actually. Turns out I don't have a dress code at my new office, which ironically is in Houston now, but I hardly ever have to be there in person."

When you met his eyes again, he asked. "New office?" He was so confused as he reached out and stroked your cheek with his fingers again just to try to make sure you were still real. 

"Yeah," you said softly, taking another step closer to him. "I have you to thank for that. I have you to thank for a lot of things." You bit your lip before you said, "I left the New York Times. I just finished my last assignment for Greg yesterday. I'm working on a brand new piece now. I actually begged my new employer to let me come back to California for the Anaheim Ducks article even though it's a bit of a fluff piece, because it meant I could come here and tell you that I'm happier now."

"You are?" he asked, unsure what you meant by that. He was having a hard time listening to your voice and looking at your face at the same time, and he wondered how he'd managed ten days in your presence for the World Series. You were just so overwhelmingly perfect. 

"Yes, Bradley. You made me think about my career, and I kind of took the time to change some of my priorities. Because if there's a man as incredible as you who is willing to take a chance on me, then I can take the same kind of chance on myself."

"Ace."

You smiled up at what he was sure was a look of longing on his face. "I'm working for Velocity Report now, and I'm going to have a lot more time off between assignments. Which is important, because you reminded me that I need to take breaks and eat and take care of myself. Even when you're not around."

"I loved doing that for you," he gasped, suddenly dying to kiss you. 

"Yeah, well, you were really good at it," you said as your smile faded a little bit. "But that's why I'm here. To tell you all of this in person. You deserve to hear it in person instead of over the phone, especially since I never responded to you. I wanted to, but I just wasn't ready until now. And I don't know if you read what I said about you in my Detroit Red Wings article... but, I still miss you. And I love you."

His heart was pounding so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. "You love me?" he asked, absolutely needing you to say it again for him as your eyes drifted to where the box of baseball cards was still out on the coffee table. 

Your smile grew as you reached out for his hand and tugged him closer like you were going to kiss him. "Yes, I do. I love-"

Bradley heard a noise behind him, and his heart sank as his eyes went wide. You were looking off to the side, and he heard Shannon's voice. "Oh, sorry." He turned to see her with a puzzled look on her face. He had completely forgotten she was even here. After a few minutes in your presence, you were the only thing that mattered.

"Oh my god," you gasped, wrenching yourself away from Bradley. "Oh, fuck." You looked at him with your hands on your forehead and tears in your eyes. "You know what? Forget I was even here. I'm sorry," you gasped, turning on your heel and walking full speed across his yard to the black car that was parked at his curb. 

It took him a second, but then he was right behind you. "Ace! No, Baby, you don't understand." But it didn't look like you were listening as you dug the keys to your rental car out of your pocket. "Ace! Please!" He ran barefoot out onto the street to try to beat you to the car door, but you were too fast. When he reached for your hand and spun you around to face him, you had tears streaming down your cheeks. 

He was frozen, clinging to your hand as you whispered, "She's the bartender. I should have never come here."

"No," he begged, stepping into your personal space, but you kept dodging him. "It's nothing. I want you here. I need you here."

But you pulled your hand free and reached for the door handle as you sobbed, and it broke Bradley's heart. "I need to go."

He was ready to drop to his knees. "She doesn't mean anything, Ace! Please! I missed you too, Baby! I've been miserable without you, okay? You have no idea." 

You wouldn't even look at him now as you pushed him out of the way so you could climb in the car. He felt all of his dreams slipping through his fingers twice now as you slammed the door closed, started the engine and drove.

"Ace!" he shouted running alongside your door until you hit the accelerator and left him standing in the middle of his street without shoes on. "Ace. I love you," he whispered as you turned left at the end of his block, and then you were out of sight. 

Bradley sank down until he was squatting with his face buried in his palms. "Fuck!" he screamed, the sound only slightly muffled as he jumped up to his feet and made his way back to his house where Shannon was standing on his porch. She looked disgusted as another car pulled up in front of his house. 

"Why are we sleeping together if you're clearly in love with her?" she asked, barely looking at him as she headed toward her Uber. "You should go take care of that."

As Bradley watched her away, he tried to pinpoint exactly how he'd fucked all of this up. He wondered if there was any way to fix it. Once again, he couldn't breathe correctly as that crushing feeling returned to his lungs. This feeling has vanished for those few minutes he was with you again.

"Maybe you don't even deserve her," he told himself as he walked back inside alone, thinking about how for a minute there, you'd loved him back.

------------------------------

Oh, Bradley. Oh, you sweet thing. Should I add one more part? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[somewherebetweendisorder]

Hole-In-One

Jason Todd x fem!reader

Warnings: language?

A/N: omg I have not posted anything in so long. this is unedited and kinda trash, but i wanted to get back into the groove of things. inspired by my recent catastrophe of a date, but i decided not to be cruel to Jason and y/n, so they have a nice time. thanks for reading!

~~

I do not give permission to copy, repost, or use my work in any way.

~~

Jason's hand are sweaty. He tries his best to ignore it, tries to look anywhere but the swell of your ass as you bend down to place your ball on the starting tee. But that's a difficult task when your legs seem to go on for miles in those shorts, and you smile over your shoulder at him. With a rough sigh he scrubs his hands down his jeans, glancing around the cramped course. The animals are all sun faded, paint chipped away from years of weather. There's a ring of trash around the chain fence circling the course, and the green felt is stained and worn thin, but you picked the place, and he wasn't one to tell you no. 

"Okay, you've played mini golf before, right?"

"Huh?"

Jason heard you loud and clear, watched your lips form the words, and he's wondering whay they taste like. He's really not sure why he's asked you to repeat yourself, except for maybe to hear more of your voice. You laugh, and it's nice; a soft, throaty sound. He'll gladly play the fool if it keeps you laughing. 

"You've played before?"

"Oh, yeah. Tim dragged me along with some of his friends once."

You nod, the breeze catching your hair. He wonders what it would feel like tangled between his fingers. Is it as soft as it looks? Would you let him get that far? 

"And you actually played?"

"Yeah. I won."

Your brow quirks up, and he likes the glint of a challenge in your eyes. They're even prettier in the sunlight than he's used to and that's not helping him. "Oh really?"

He puffs his chest out dramatically, drawing your attention to the well defined muscles of his chest. As though there was any way you were unaware of just how perfect he really is, but he follows the your eyes as they blaze a trail across his chest, down his abs, and back up. your cheeks tinting a nice pink when you realize you're caught. He can't help the smirk tugging as his lips, but he lets it go.

"Yep, I'm somewhat of a precision expert."

You make a sound in the back of your throat, and he's pretty damn certain you picked that habit of from Bruce, but he doesn't call attention to that either.

"Well I haven't lost a game of mini golf in three years, and I won't be going down easily today, Mr. Precision Expert."

And he likes that too; likes when you mouth off, likes that tingly warmth gathing in his gut, likes that flush that still hasn't quite faded from your cheeks. He decides right then and there to throw the game. No one has to know, and no one will. Besides, he thinks, it's more than worth it. 

~

Turns out he doesn't have to do much to throw the game, because you're better than you gave yourself credit for. You scowl everytime he makes a hole in one, and he tries not to laugh, but even those perfect shots aren't enough to recover from the whole that took him sixteen tries. 

At the last hole, it takes him two tries and he flashes you a grin. He watches as you tee up, and both your eyes follow the ball down the green, where it stops. An inch away from the hole.

"Oh you motherf-"

You stop yourself, eyes wide as you turn to him, with a giggle.

"No no, don't stop on my account. Maybe if you keep yelling at it it'll jump in."

And Jason likes when you roll your eyes. Wonders what else he can do to make that happen as he follows you back to the counter to return your clubs, his eyes wandering up the long path of your legs, and over your ass. 

He respects you, he really does, but god, look at you. He can't ignore that. 

The sun has blazed a slow path across the sky, finally dipping behind the gotham skyline, and he thinks he you've never looked more beautiful than in this moment, skin painted in pink and orange hues. You step to your car, and he follows, shoving his hands in his pockets, dark locks falling across his forehead. 

"This was really nice, Jay. Thanks for inviting me." 

You smile up at him, and his heart stutters in his chest. For just a minute he's worried he'll need to be dumped in the pit again, because there's not way what's going on behind his ribcage is normal. 

"Yeah, it was. He should do it again."

He's going for chill, but that goes to pot the moment your smile widens. You go in for a hug, and who is he to deny you? His arms wrap around your shoulders as yours circle his waist, and he breathes deep, enjoying your perfume that's been teasing him all evening. 

He has no doubt you can hear and feel the insane tempo of his heart what with your ear pressed against his chest and all. But he can feels yours too, and it isn't much better. That brings about an odd sort of satisfaction, and he's swallowing his nerves as his hands shake just slightly against the expanse of your back. 

"Would it be very wrong of me to ask for a kiss on the first date?" he rumbles in your ear.

He likes how small you feel in his arms; likes the shiver that works its way up your spine. Likes it even more when you look up at him through your lashes. 

"Honestly, I've kinda been counting the fact you take your lunch break with me every day as dates..."

He lets that sink in. He's pretty sure his brain just broke a little bit, and he doesn't bother trying to get out any words. Instead, he settles for tasting those lips he's been thinking so much about. And shit, you taste even better than he imagined. 

He swallows your surprised gasp, and before either of you really know what's happening, he's got you backed against your car, his leg slotting between yours. Your fingers curl into the thick hair at the nape of his neck and tug gently, just enough to elicit a reaction. And when he nips at your bottom lip in response, you're officially putty in his arms. 

You let out a soft moan, and Jason starts to worry this may not be enough, but he's resolved to not ask for more. He's better than that, but then you're reading his mind as you pull away, needing air. 

"Would it be very wrong of me to invite you to stay the night on the first date?"

He kisses the corner of your mouth, your jaw, that soft spot just behind your ear, your jaw.

"Nah. According to you it's at least our third date, so I think it's okay."

You hide your face in his chest, but he can feel your smile. 

"C'mon, give me your keys. I'll drive."