#like the tennis racket and golf club

[naturallysuperbands]

.

[hadersversion]

but daddy i love him!

“no, i’m not coming to my senses. i know he’s crazy but he’s the one i want.”

pairing: rafe cameron x innocent kook!reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut, minors dni!!! dry humping & fingering. corruption kink of sorts (rafe and an innocent reader has taken over me fully i apologize). parental violence/verbal abuse. fighting. rafe showing his true colors but quickly hiding it from the reader because rafe is a big softie for them. pet names (sweetheart, honey, darling, baby, pretty/good girl). aftercare. let me know if i miss any!

mood board!

rafe cameron was bad news.

anyone in the outer banks could tell you that.

he was a fighter, a shit-talker, a guy who you couldn’t trust.

but there was something so intriguing about him that you just couldn’t turn away.

from the day you moved to island almost 10 years ago, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. you would see him at parties, the country club, when you would hang out with his sister, around town on his motorbike with his buddies. but you had to push that crush deep down because no one in their right mind would go after that boy.

except you.

you stretched yourself on the court, waiting for your dad to come out with drinks before your tennis match. that’s when you saw him and his friends making their way to the locker room. they had just got done their round of golf, you could tell by their bags. you tried not to stare, but your eyes seemed to have a mind of their own.

“hey, y/n.” you heard him call, with a smirk painted across his face.

your face blushed and you waved to him. “hey rafe.” play it cool, play it cool.

you can see him look you up and down, staring at your legs. “nice skirt.”

you looked down at the new, white tennis skirt your dad had bought you for your report card. your fingers found a loose thread, beginning to toy with it to deal with the embarrassment you felt. “t-thanks.”

he nods before looking behind you. “mr. y/l/n.” he nods with a quick wave. you turn around to see your dad with two waters and a stern look on his face. “enjoy your game.” he says before going inside.

your dad stands over you as you sit, handing a water bottle over. “that cameron boy…” he lets out a deep sigh.

“what?” you question, getting up and brushing your legs off.

your dad pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “he’s not the kind of guy you want to be friends with, sweetie. he’s a bad seed.”

“but how do you know that?” you question, trying not to sound too suspicious.

your dad picks up his racket and makes his way over to his side of the net. “i know ward cameron. and i know how rafe is just like his dad, thinks he can get anything he wants. thinks there is no consequences to life. but there is. there always is.” your dad shakes his head. “i saw him beating up some kid here not that long ago. sure, he was a pogue but doesn’t give rafe the right to walk around like the king of the outer banks. but until someone stops him, humbles him, things’ll never change.”

you stand there, uncomfortable. all you wanted to do was defend rafe, though you weren’t close like that. but your dad is a one way street. it’s his way or no way. so all you can do is nod. “oh…okay.” you say simply, getting ready for the match.

“just promise me you won’t get mixed up with the likes of that boy, please?” your father looks sincere.

you bite your lip and look down at your clean, white shoes. “yes sir.”

“good, now watch me beat you in tennis.” he says with a laugh. i fake a smile, getting on with the game, but still have rafe in the back of my mind.

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you didn’t see rafe again until the night of a house party at topper’s house.

your friends and you walk in, buzzed from the pre-game. they immediately all go their separate ways, looking for drinks, boys, or both. this leaves you standing awkwardly by a table, talking to some people from school. they talk about prom, their grades, and teachers, making you mentally check out from the conversation. that’s when he catches your eye, he is talking to topper and kelce with a red solo cup in his hand. you watch his every move, how big and veiny his hands are, practically cover the entire cup. how he constantly pushes his hair back while he talks, almost seeming like a force of habit he has. he also licks his lips a lot, sending a very graphic image of rafe between your le-

he looks up, meeting your gaze. a blush forms on your face as you try to hide your embarrassment but taking a sip of alcohol from your cup. you give yourself some time, staring into the cup before looking up again. but when you look at him, he hasn’t stopped staring at you. the blush you fought so hard to keep away makes your face feel like it’s on fire.

you watch as he excuses himself and makes his way over to you. this has to be a dream? or some prank, right?

“hey there, y/n.” he snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts. every person who you are talking to looks over to rafe then back at you. “didn’t know you were coming.”

you awkwardly shrug. “last minute choice by my friends.”

his eyes burn holes into your body as he looks you up and down. “well, i’m glad you’re here.” you nod at him, offering a shy smile. “looks like you need another drink, come inside and i’ll get you one.” he nods his head towards the kitchen door. the group you're with is watching this conversation like it’s a TV show. you make my way through them and stand next to him. he automatically puts his hand on your back and leads you inside. the feeling of his touch sends chills down your spine but it almost feels like his hand is meant to be there. like his touch is the missing piece in your life.

you get into the kitchen and he heads towards the fridge, grabbing juice and handing it over. “you strike me as a vodka and juice, girl.” he says with a smile, making my insides melt.

“and what makes you say that?” you ask, putting your hand on my hip, playing into his little game of flirting.

“well, you’re sweet and you seem to play it safe. you don’t really drink a lot but when you do, you’re never blacked out.” he admits with a laugh, giving his diagnosis. “juice is sweet and vodka is the safest way to get a little drunk, in my opinion.” he stares at your face, waiting for a response.

“you’re good, rafe cameron. a little too good.” you admit, grabbing the juice and filling up the cup. he stands over you, giving me the vodka next. “didn’t know i was that easy to read.”

“you’re not.” he admits, staring down at you while you drink. “i just think i have a special interest in you.”

you freeze in place, there’s no way he’s admitting this to you. right now. the boy you’ve been pining after since the first grade. you can tell you're shutting down but you need to play it cool. “oh really?” you look up at his blue eyes, getting lost in them instantaneously.

“really.” he steps closer, inches away from my face. you know you are not that drunk but your head feels like it’s spinning under his gaze. he leans in a little closer, your noses brushing, when the kitchen door slams and topper can be seen stumbling in. his obnoxious laugh fills the room, making rafe close his eyes and sigh. “what could you possibly want right now?”

topper laughs and comes up beside rafe, he’s clearly fucked up. “i’m just looking for some weed, man.” he hits his chest playfully. “don’t let me get in your way.”

rafe pushes him away, making topper laugh harder at us. he looks at you before speaking. “sorry for being a cockblock.”

rafe narrows his eyes at him. “just get the fuck outta here, top.”

topper staggers into the other room, still laughing.

“sorry about him. when he drinks, he becomes an asshole.” he says, running a hand across his face.

“is he drunk all the time?” i ask with a new found confidence in my voice.

rafe looks at me and laughs. “seems to be.”

you both stand in silence, not moving away from each other but unable to bring the moment back.

“i like you.” he admits.

you stare at him, unable to speak. “w-what?”

“i think you heard me, y/n.” he smiles cockily, looking into your eyes.

you look back at him. “you barely know me, rafe.”

“doesn’t mean i can’t like you.” he sips his cup and nudges your shoulder with his. “i think you could say the same about me.” he gets closer, whispering into your ear. “don’t think i don’t notice how you stare at me when i’m around.”

you feel the air leave your body and you bite your lip. you feel like your cornered and have nowhere to go. “i-i-uh…”

he brushes his finger against your lip, almost like he’s shushing you. but you can’t even fight the way your body reacts to his touch. “it’s okay, honey. i like it. i like it a lot.” he says in a whisper, almost making you forget you aren’t the only two people in the world. it feels like you can read his mind just by looking into his blue eyes. he wants you…screw that, rafe cameron needs you. and you need him. forget what your father says, or the town, or even your friends. this seems to be all you need.

how am i ever going to recover from this? you thought to yourself.

you hear your friend call your name from outside. rafe looks over as they yell from outside. “i’ll see you around, how’s that sound?” you look at him, unable to think when he looks at you like this. his hand brushes against your face before walking back out into the party.

you stand there, still as your friend comes in. “you alright? looks like you seen a ghost or something.” she asks you, laughing a bit.

“all good.” was all you can get out, staring straight ahead at the door rafe just left in.

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ever since the party, rafe found little ways to be around you.

whether it was joining you at the country club while you played tennis or hanging around you when he saw you at the beach reading. he even started knocking on the front door of your mansion to just talk on your porch, something you had to hide from your dad. with these interactions, you had no idea what everyone was warning you about with him. he was one of the sweetest guys you ever met. for weeks, you and rafe had begun a nice friendship.

but the almost kiss at topper's party was never spoken of again.

the two of you sat on your porch swing, the air was warm as summer was slowly approaching. your legs laid flatly across rafe’s lap, looking directly at him. you poured a glass of lemonade for you both, sparking rafe to hit you with a “you sure you don’t want some vodka in this?”

when you’re with rafe, the conversations seem to just flow like you are the oldest of friends. you could talk about anything and nothing at the same time. he went on for the past five minutes about how he used to love playing lacrosse but one injury affected his whole career for him.

“it sucked, ya know? i never felt like i belonged anywhere, or had a close bond with anyone like i did on that team. then one fucking torn acl later and it’s all gone for me. i had college scouts looking at me and everything. i could’ve escaped this place and lived the real college experience.” he looked out into the water that faced your house. he turned to you and smiled awkwardly. “jeez, i’m sorry i just don’t shut up.”

you chuckle at him, loving how he put some of his walls down around you. “it’s okay, i like hearing ya talk. it’s soothing.” you smile innocently at him.

he gazes into your eyes and nods, his expression softening. “really?” you nod and he just stares at you. “you’re one of a kind, ya know?” his fingers start to rub innocent circles on your leg.

“and why’s that?” you ask him.

“i-i don’t know, i feel like i can be myself around you.” he admits. “don’t ever quote me on that because i’ll deny that shit.” he points, gaining a laugh from you.

“don’t want anyone to know rafe cameron can be a softie?” you tease him.

“shut up, i’m not a softie.”

“i think you can be behind close doors.” you say.

he stops rubbing your leg and turns to you. “oh shut up.”

“well, you’re gonna have to make me then.” you say without thinking.

rafe looks at you with a fire in his eyes that you haven’t seen since the party. “what was that?” he cocks his eyebrow at you.

you just stare into his eyes, straightening your shoulders back. a confidence striking you like never before. “i think you heard me, rafe.”

without missing a beat, rafe connects your lips. all of that pent-up tension, gone within that very second. his hands found his way to your face, cupping it ever so lightly like you were a delicate flower he was so lucky to have found. his hands slowly slid down your body, like he was trying to memorize every inch of your skin. "jesus, this is all i've been thinking about." he said breaking away, looking into your eyes.

"then, don't stop." you say breathlessly, climbing on top of his lap, kissing him again.

you can tell this move took rafe by surprise as he let out a soft moan in the kiss. the innocence he once thought you possessed was now all gone. you slowly began grinding yourself against rafe's clothed cock, which was slightly hardening. "fuck, who knew you had it in you, honey." he said as he kissed down your jaw. you never felt so needier in your life chasing a high with rafe that you thought you could only dream about.

your face blushed as you looked down at rafe who was staring up at you like you were a painting held high in the louvre. the more you looked down, the more self-conscious you became. your pace which was rapidly increasing started to falter. "hey, hey, sweetheart. don't stop now. what's wrong? talk to me." he caressed your face so lovingly.

you bit your lip and closed your eyes, still out of breathe. "i-i-i don't know. what if i'm doing this wrong? or it's weird for you? i'm just nervous, i never did this before."

"did what, sweetheart? dry humped?" he almost laughed, pushing hair out of your face.

you shrugged. "well yes and no..." your voice started to trail off.

"yes and no?" rafe stared at you with a puzzled expression, trying to crack the code. you watched as he deciphered your words and the gears started to turn. "y/n, have you ever been with someone like...sexually before?"

you wanted to cry, the embarrassment being too hard to handle. you just laid your head against rafe's chest and sighed. "please, don't think of me any differently. i just...i just haven't found the right person to do all this with, ya know? i used to be scared but with you...i don't know, i feel ready." rafe sat there in silence, his hands falling to your waist and gripping them. you break away from his chest and stare into his eyes, which have seemed to darken. "rafe?"

"you trust me?" he asks simply. you nod shyly, causing his breath to hitch. you can feel his pants grow tighter under you. "i want you to keep going, do you hear me? don't stop until you cum on my pants." it sounds like he is giving you orders. he brings his thumb across your lip and gives a menacing smirk. "you wanna be all mine, huh? you pretty girl. show me your mine."

with his reassurance, you pick up you begin to rub yourself against his pants. your hands grip his shoulders as he holds you down on him. "good girl, keep it going." the material of his jeans feel rough against your clothed cunt but it adds a sensation you have never felt before. "shit, look at how pretty you look on me. can't wait to bury my cock inside you. would you like that? my cock being so far inside you, you can feel it in your stomach?"

you let out a pathetic whine, your head falling back from the pleasure you have building up inside. "y-yes."

"good girl, but we gotta start with the basics, right?" his hands start to trail up your body, stopping at your closed breasts. he cups them with his hands and smiles when you cry his name. "i got you, baby. c'mon, you know you wanna cum."

you quickly grind against him, feeling desperate as you chase your high. with his words of praise and reassurance, you can feel yourself ready to release. with one quick movement, you feel the tension building up in your stomach release as you cum on rafe. tears prick your eyes as you repeat his name over and over again. "rafe, rafe, rafe."

he stares at you in awe as you finish on him. the sight of your teary eyes and his name falling from your lips in such a needy way pushed him over the edge. he found himself cumming in his pants like he was a high schooler all over again.

you both stayed there, out of breathe, not moving once. you felt like a whole new person even though barely anything has changed.

"you alright?" he asks, pushing hair away from your face.

you tiredly nod, not knowing how to form words. your hooded eyes just take in the view of rafe, his face read and sweaty with a cocky smirk painted across it.

he bites his lip and kisses you gently. "there's more where that came from, you know?" he says and your head reels. "i've been waiting for so long to have you to myself, sweetheart. i don't plan on letting go now."

you giggle into his chest and nod. "don't gotta worry about me leaving, trust me. i've never felt so good in my life." the sweet yet sensual moment you two shared came to a halt when you heard your dad's truck pulling up the gravel road to your house. "shit." you quickly climb off rafe, trying to compose yourself.

your father quickly exited the truck, slamming the door behind him. he seemed to race up to the two of you as you sat there. rafe's hand protectively went over yours as your father approached. "the hell is he doing here?" he fumes.

"d-dad, we're just hanging out." you lie to his face.

"yes sir, that's all we were doing." rafe says camly, looking at him in the eyes.

your father head snaps towards rafe. "was i talking to you, boy? no. stay outta it." his attention focuses back to you. "i told you to not mess with the likings of this boy and what do you do behind my back?" he screams at you. "you go around with this...this hooligan! i want him off my property now. acting like some easy girl, i raised you better."

"b-but, daddy." you pout, trying not to cry as rafe squeezes your hand.

"sir, you're being too hard on her. it's not her fault." rafe tries to calm him down.

your father's finger rests on rafe's chest as he gets close to his face. "oh i know that, rafe. it's you and your typical bullshit. my daughter wouldn't act this way if it wasn't for you. look at you, you're probably using her."

rafe's fists clenched as your father talks down to him, no one does this to him and gets away with it. "sir, i suggest you put that finger down."

"or what?" your father snickers in his face.

rafe's whole demeanor shifts, the sweet boy you were just talking to now gone. like he was never even there. it honestly scared you how fast rafe can change personalities. "you don't even want to know." he grits his teeth. you hate to admit the affect this took on your body, clenching your legs together.

your father drops his finger and turns to you. "inside, now." he says, grabbing your arm. before you can fight him off, he's dragging you away from rafe.

"it's okay, baby, we'll figure this out." he reassures as you are being brought into your house. "fuck!" he screams as soon as the door slams shut.

you watch as rafe makes his way to his truck, slamming the door shut and driving away. you turn to your father who just stares at you as you cry. "screw you!" you say before running upstairs and locking yourself in your room.

you finally had him and now you lost him.

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the days past since you saw rafe.

your father grounded you and cut you off from the outside world.

you sat by your window and waited, having some false hope that rafe would be your knight in shining armor and take you away from this place. your father pulled up the driveway and seemed to struggle getting out of his truck.

you met him at the door, ready to deal with the bullshit he would throw you today. when you opened your door, your father seemed battered and bruised.

"holy sh-i mean...what happened?" you asked, holding the door open for your dad as he sat on the recliner.

"nothing." he shuttered. "nothing happened."

you stood there and crossed your arms. "clearly something happened."

he shook his head, seeming almost fearful. "nothing happened, now drop it." you stood there as he turned to you. "you aren't grounded anymore. your phone is on my dresser." he seemed almost defeated.

you stared at your dad trying to understand what the hell is going on. are you in the twilight zone? you knew you wouldn't get an answer out of him so you grabbed your things and raced out of the house before he could change his mind. the sun was setting but you didn't care, you had one thing and one thing only on your mind.

you got on your bike and raced towards tannyhill. when you finally got there, you threw your bike down and almost ran to the front door. with two knocks, wheezie opened the door.

"y/n?" she said with a smirk.

"hey, wheezie, is rafe home?" you say, snooping around the insides of the home.

she rolls her eyes and opens the door. "in his room."

you walk up the stairs and stop right before his door. your fist hovering over it before connecting it to the wood. after a few seconds, rafe stands there in the almost dark room.

"y/n." he says, almost as though he was expecting you to be here.

you quickly jump into his arms, holding onto him by his neck. you missed this. the way he smelled, the way he felt, everything about this boy drive you wild. "i missed you."

"i missed you too, honey. come on in." he lets you into his room. this was your first time being in here. sure, you've seen it through snapchat and pictures he sends but that's it. it's the typical boy room but it felt authentic. it felt like rafe.

you sit down on his bed as he walks around, picking up clothes off the floor. "didn't think i'd be having guests." he doesn't seem like his usual self, maybe you caught him at a bad time? but he invited you in, so you stayed.

you laugh at him. "no big deal, the old man let me off the hook tonight. it was weird, he came home all messed up. i tried asking but he kinda pushed me away. it was weird."

rafe stood there, silently. "oh really?"

"yeah, super strange. he's not usually the fighter type. never has been." you watch him stand there. "you all good?"

he nods and turns to you. "i am, now that you're here."

you smile at him as he approaches you. you open your legs so he can stand in between them, looking down at you. he traces your face with his finger, stopping at your lips. "all mine, sweetheart. all mine." he says before bending down to kiss you. the kiss feels rough, almost as though you are a fresh breathe of air that rafe has been waiting for. he pushes you down onto his bed and crawls on top of you.

you break the kiss and look into his eyes, his room is dark so you can only make out certain features. but you bring your hand to his face and hold his cheek, which makes him wince. "oh, i'm sorry, did i hurt you?"

"n-no, it's all good." he tries to kiss you again but you stop him.

"rafe?" you ask him, making him stop once again. "what's wrong? tell me."

"goddamn! nothing is wrong, okay? i can't miss you." he says, running a hand through his hair. you try to study his face but can't even see him. you reach over for his bedside lamp. "no, no, leave it of-" before he can stop you, the light is on. his beautiful face has a large bruise under his right eye and cheek. his lip busted and knuckles bruised.

"rafe?" you question, sitting up.

"y/n, i can explain." he pleads.

then it all makes sense. your father coming home all battered and bruised, rafe's current state, you being let off the hook too easily.

"you don't even want to know."

"it's okay, baby, we'll figure this out."

his words from that night ring through your head. the way his whole demeanor changed that night into a person you've never seen before.

"d-did you?" you ask with teary eyes.

"baby, look at me. i can explain." he begs you but you start to get up.

"explain what? how you beat up my fucking dad!?" you yelled, trying to grasp the millions of thoughts you had. "h-how could you?" you stand by his door, pacing, with your head in your hands.

he walks up to you, grabbing your hand. "look at me, honey, please. look at me." he begs you, trying to grab your attention.

when you finally turn to him, you see the cuts and bruises again. "rafe, why?" you say with a tear slipping down.

"because i love you, honey. you're my girl and i don't give a fuck who it is, they cannot talk to you the way your own father did. calling you easy, acting like your dumb for being around me. nobody should ever talk to you like that, ever." you stop and he cups your face in his hands. "i just wanted to talk to him, okay? all i wanted to do was talk. but then he started again with how i'm a bad person and how you were being stupid for even acknowledging me. he said he didn't need a guy like me corrupting his daughter and i snapped."

you gazed into his eyes, they looked as though they were pleading with you to see why he did what he did.

"please, say something. please." he states.

you sigh and close your eyes. "rafe, i don't need you going around defending my honor, especially to my dad. it's not worth it."

"not worth it? sweetheart, look at me." you open your eyes. "you are worth everything to me, you hear me? everything. i would kill for you if you asked me to. i never had someone care for me the way you do, have someone listen to me, or even treat me normally. you mean the world to me, y/n. i love you."

and there it was.

rafe cameron, for once in his life, showed affection.

he told someone they love them.

"i'm sorry it was your dad, okay? sometimes, i black out and can't remember things when i'm angry. i act on my impulses. but with you, i never feel that way." he shakes his head, trying to contain all his emotions. your eyes water again, causing him to wipe the tears. "what's wrong, baby? talk to me."

you smile through the tears. "i just, i love you too." no one has ever made you feel so safe and loved in one moment than rafe has this past month. he's all you could ever ask for.

he beams down at you, shaking his head. "you mean that?"

"with every ounce of my body, i love you." you admit.

his heart swelled as he connected your lips once more to his. you were all his, all he ever needed in life to feel whole.

rafe pushes you against the door, a light moan slipping from your lips as he presses himself against you.

"you like that?" he asks, a satisfied smirk on his face as he kisses your cheek and goes down your neck.

you nod under his touch, like you're cast in his spell. "y-yes."

"you want more?" he asks, sucking on one spot of your neck for a long time. all you can do is nod, already becoming a mess because of him. he pulls away, having you almost whimper from the lack of contact. "not uh, baby, gotta hear some words out of that beautiful mouth of yours. i'll repeat myself, do you want more."

"y-yes, rafe, yes please."

he groans at your begging and nods. "good girl." he pulls you over to the bed and guides you toward it. you feel the bed hit the back of your knees and you sit down, looking up at him. he quickly takes his shirt off and tosses it to the side.

he kisses your lips lightly as his hands find the end of your shirt, lightly toying with the fabric. "y-you can take it off." with the reassurance, he slips the top off and leaves it next to you. his eyes take in your body, your breasts pooling out of a flimsy green bralette. he sucks his tongue and gently runs his fingers over your tits.

"so pretty and they're all for me." he slowly reaches behind your back and unclasps the bralette with one hand, letting it fall down your body. you could swear rafe has tiny hearts in his eyes as they bore onto your half-naked body. "lay down." you follow his orders and lay against his pillows. his bedroom light shines over his features and the cuts from the fight. you bring your hand up to touch them and he gives into your touch. "you okay?"

"more than okay." you tell him.

he kisses your hand then his lips meet with yours once again. he then lets his lips trail across your cheek, jaw, neck, and down to your chest. he stares at your tits before peppering them both with kisses. he then takes one nipple in his mouth, slowly, and grabs your other one with your free hand to give a squeeze. your body instantaneously reacts to rafe's touch, moaning at the sensation of his lips. "you like that, huh?" he almost teases, switching to the other nipple.

"m-more." you whisper out, clenching your eyes.

"what was that, honey? need you to speak up for me." he grins.

"please, i want more, rafe. touch me more." you raise your voice.

"you got it." his hand leaves your tit and trails slowly down your body, resting at the hem of your jeans. he unbuttons them and lets his hands slide down your underwear, his hands automatically getting soaked. "shit, baby, all this for me?" he runs ins finger down your cunt and gathering your slick, bringing it to his mouth. he sucks it off his fingers as you watch in awe. "you're just too sweet for me, you know that?"

he doesn't even give you time to think before he puts his fingers back inside you, swirling your cunt. your hands grab his shoulders, holding onto them for dear life. "it's okay, i got ya, i always got ya." he reassures as he slowly slips one finger into your tight hole. "jesus, honey, with a hole this tight i don't know how long i'll last." he says as he slips his finger in and out of you, his thumb still toying with your clit.

your head falls back as more moans fall from your lips. "more, rafe, please give me more."

he laughs slightly. "cocky little thing, aren't ya? if you insist." he adds one more finger, your hole clenching around him as his finger slip in and out. "look how pretty you look with my fingers inside of you." he says before kissing your mouth, collecting your moans. you're so wet you hear the noises your pussy is making around him. you feel overstimulated as rafe keeps going, not stopping once. tears prick your eyes as you feel your high approaching. his thumb rubs harder as your nails connect to rafe's chest, dragging them down. "my pretty baby, i just love you so much." he says, staring at you.

with those words, you feel yourself being pushed to pleasure. you cum all over rafe's fingers, crying out his name. "rafe!"

he lets you ride out your high before taking his fingers out and putting them in his mouth like he did before. "never gonna get tired of that."

he gets up and heads to the bathroom. you want to talk to him, ask him where he's going, but you're too tired. you've never felt this good, not even from your own fingers. rafe comes back with a towel in his hand, gently, he pulls off your shorts and panties, cleaning off your pussy. the water is nice and warm as he gets you situated. he drops the rag and crawls into his bed next to you, holding you tightly.

"you know, if you want me to go dow-" but before you can finish that sentence he kisses your forehead.

"no need to rush there, honey. i wanna take my time with you, wanna show you how good i can make you feel." your heart melts in your chest as he rubs your back lightly. "get some rest, alright?"

you fall asleep fast in his arms, he holds you there the entire night and doesn't plan on letting go.

[wannab3-writer]

Country Club Rivalry

PATRICK ZWEIG X CHILDHOOD FRIEND READER (some Art x reader)

NOTES : GOD, how I tried to make this an Art x Reader because I'm an Art GIRLIE, but Pat just had to come out on top for this one, truly…"

WARNINGS — 18 + content mdni, fem!reader, not proofread

wc: 5.3k

description:

When three friends work at the same country club, things are bound to get messy—especially when they have a bet about who can win over the reader first.

The Oakridge Country Club was bustling with its usual summer energy. Guests lounged by the pool, chatting under the striped umbrellas, while golf carts zipped along the winding paths. The sun blazed overhead, casting sharp shadows on the clay tennis courts where Patrick and Art were finishing their morning lessons.

You stood at the server station near the patio, jotting down drink orders on your notepad. It wasn't your first summer at the country club, but you still enjoyed the easy rhythm of the job—the way the breeze rustled through the trees, the laughter of kids playing by the pool, and the familiar faces of the regulars.

Patrick waved at you from across the tennis courts, his hair tousled from teaching. He was grinning like he always did when he'd just finished a good session. Art stood beside him, spinning his racket in his hand, looking relaxed and effortlessly charming.

"Hey, how's your section?" Patrick called, jogging over with Art trailing behind. He was wearing his usual tennis gear, white shirt, and shorts, with a blue visor to keep the sun out of his eyes.

"Pretty good," you replied, glancing at your notepad. "Mrs. Anderson is on her third mimosa, so I'm expecting a big tip."

Art laughed. "Better watch out, she's got a mean backhand when she's tipsy. I saw her smack a golf ball into the pond last week. Her caddie still hasn't recovered."

Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. "Classic Mrs. Anderson. Did you know she was a tennis champion back in the day? She could probably still give us a run for our money."

Art leaned in, lowering his voice. "Speaking of giving people a run for their money, I heard you've been racking up the tips lately. What's your secret?"

You shrugged with a playful smile. "Just being nice to people, Art. You should try it sometime."

Patrick laughed and nudged Art's shoulder. "Yeah, Art, maybe if you focused less on flirting with every guest and more on your job, you'd make some tips, too."

Art feigned shock. "Me? Flirting? I don't know what you're talking about." He turned to you with a charming grin. "Do you think I'm a flirt?"

You raised an eyebrow. "A little, but that's your thing, right? I mean, it's not like you're betting on who can get the most milfs phone numbers or anything." Clearly sarcastic.

Patrick shot Art a look, then quickly turned to you with a smile. "Yeah, nothing like that. We just... like to keep things interesting."

Art nodded, but you noticed a brief flicker of guilt in his eyes. It was subtle, but it made you wonder if there was more to their competition than met the eye.

"Well, whatever it is, just don't bring any drama into my section, okay?" you said, playfully tapping your notepad against Art's chest. "I've got enough to deal with without you two causing trouble."

Patrick raised his hands in mock surrender. "No drama, I promise. We'll be on our best behavior."

Art winked. "Scout's honor."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. Despite the teasing and the occasional competitive streak, you knew they meant well. It was just another summer at the country club, where the days were long, the sun was hot, and anything could happen.

Anything.

---

The Club had settled into its evening rhythm by the time you reached the bar. Fairy lights twinkled overhead, casting soft glimmers on the stone patio. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass. A live band played classic rock covers, the gentle strum of guitars mingling with the murmur of patrons relaxing after a day of golf and tennis.

Patrick was at a corner table, nursing a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He looked up from his phone and waved you over, a broad smile lighting up his face. He'd changed out of his tennis instructor uniform into a casual blue polo and jeans, his hair still damp from a quick shower.

"Hey, there you are!" he said, using his foot to pull out a chair for you. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."

You shook your head with a grin. "Please, I could hear your bad jokes all the way from the kitchen. Had to come and see what was so funny."

Patrick laughed, setting his phone aside. "You know I'm hilarious. You just pretend not to appreciate my sense of humor."

You took a seat and glanced around. The bar was lively but not overcrowded. A group of older couples was playing cards at a nearby table, and a few teenagers from the tennis program were playing darts in the corner. It felt like the perfect end to a busy day.

"So, what are we drinking tonight?" Patrick asked, gesturing to the menu. "I've got whiskey, but I hear the margaritas are pretty good."

You considered for a moment. "Let's go with the margaritas. I need something fruity after today."

Patrick flagged down the bartender, who quickly mixed up a pitcher of margaritas with a generous splash of tequila. He poured you a glass and handed it over with a mock bow. "Your drink, my liege. May it bring you all the fruitiness you desire."

You raised your glass with a chuckle. "Thank you, William,” you turn towards the brunet “To Patrick, who somehow managed not to break any tennis rackets today. It's a new record!"

Patrick clinked his whiskey against your glass. "And to you, for not spilling any drinks on Mrs. Anderson. She's still mad about last summer's 'mimosa incident.'"

You rolled your eyes, remembering the time you accidentally spilled a tray of drinks on Mrs. Anderson's white dress during a particularly hectic brunch. "Don't remind me. I had to run for cover like I was in a war zone. I thought she’d have my head.”

Patrick laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "You should've seen her face. It was like you'd ruined her entire day. But hey, at least you got to keep your job."

As the two of you shared stories and relived old memories, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the patio. The band transitioned to a slower song, adding a mellow vibe to the evening.

Art arrived a little later, his tennis gear replaced by a button-down snap back and jeans. He had a confident stride and a smile that seemed to draw attention wherever he went. He slid into the seat next to you, his presence bringing a shift in the energy at the table.

"What's up, party people?" he said, his voice smooth and inviting. "I hope you saved some margaritas for me."

Patrick handed him a glass. "Of course, wouldn't want our little Arty to feel left out.”  He added leaning into Art smirking. “What took you so long anyways,  Shelly needed some one-on-one time to work on her underhand? Or what. ”

You smirked. "You really think He’s that charming, huh?” she turns towards Art looking into his eyes “What’s your secret hmm? Is it the cologne?"

Art leaned in with a grin. "It's all about confidence. And maybe a little bit of cologne. But mostly confidence."

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Right, because confidence is what you exude. You should've seen Art on the tennis court today. He was so confident he almost hit a kid with a tennis ball."

Art raised an eyebrow. "Almost. That's the key word. No harm, no foul."

The banter continued, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm. Art's charm contrasted with Patrick's laid-back, cheeky style, and you found yourself enjoying the playful back-and-forth.

As the evening progressed, you noticed Patrick watching Art with a hint of unease. It was subtle, like a flicker in his eyes whenever Art made you laugh a little too hard or leaned in a little too close.

---

"All right, we're here. Try not to break anything, okay? Last time you were here, my mom couldn't find her favorite vase for a week."

Art smirked, stepping inside. "That wasn't my fault! How was I supposed to know it was on top of the fridge? Who puts a vase on the fridge, anyway?"

Art dropped his bag in his Patrick’s room and looked around. The place had an eclectic charm—walls lined with tennis trophies, faded concert posters, and family photos. A stack of video games sat beside the TV.

Patrick led the way into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge. He tossed one to Art, who caught it with ease. "So, what are you in the mood for? I was thinking pizza, but we can order something else if you're not into it."

Art popped open the bear and took a sip. "Pizza sounds good. Just no anchovies, okay? That stuff is nasty."

Patrick laughed, opening his own soda. "You're missing out, man. Anchovies are a delicacy." He grabbed the phone and dialed the pizza place, ordering a large with pepperoni and sausage. "There, something a bit more your speed. Happy now?"

Art nodded, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, that'll work. So, you ready for tomorrow? Two-on-two is serious business. We can't afford to slack off."

Patrick waved a hand dismissively. "Please, I'm always ready. Besides, we've got the advantage. I mean, have you seen the other teams? Half of them can't even hit a backhand."

Art chuckled. "You're so modest, Patrick. What would you do without me to keep you humble?"

Patrick shrugged with a grin. "Probably win more matches.”

Art threw a punch at Patrick's shoulder, and Patrick pretended to wince. They both laughed, the kind of easy camaraderie that came from years of friendship and shared jokes. But there was also a subtle tension in the air, like they were both aware of the unspoken rivalry that had been growing between them.

"So," Patrick said, leaning back against the kitchen island, biting his lip "you and […] seemed pretty chummy tonight. What's the story there? You trying to make a move, or what?" The familiar smirk making its way to his face.

Art raised an eyebrow, his expression guarded. "We're just talking. Nothing wrong with getting to know someone, right?" He finished wetting his lips.

Patrick smirked. "Sure, nothing wrong with that.” He shrugged.  “But you're not just getting to know her. You're flirting, and we both know it." He took a couple steps forward “Basically eye fucking her, to be honest” He only smiled.

Art shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Oh, come on Pat, maybe, She's just fun to be around, you know. No need to be gross." Art gave him a wry smile. "You know me. I just go with the flow. If she likes hanging out with me, who am I to complain?"

Patrick leaned in, lowering his voice. "Or maybe, you think she's interested in you. Is that what this is about? You think you've got a shot?" His eyes scanning arts face.

Art met his gaze, his expression calm but with a hint of challenge. "I don't know, man. Maybe I do. What does it matter to you huh? You think you've got the inside track because you've known her longer?"

Patrick grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I mean, it doesn't hurt. We've got a lot of history. I'm charming, good-looking, and I've got the best jokes. What's not to like?" he goes back to lean on the counter. “Besides, I’ve seen the real her, all of it, kinda gives me a little advantage don’t you think.”

Art halts, stops chewing his gum, straitening himself up. “What’s that supposed to mean Patrick.”

“Exactly what it you think.” He kissed his teeth, kicking off the counter and going back to looking inside the fridge.

Art chuckled, but there was a hint of envy in his laugh. "Well, if you're so confident, maybe we should make it interesting. How about a little bet? See who can win her over first?"

Patrick waved his hand dismissively. "Little Arty wants a bet he’ll lose?” He chuckles. “No games. Just a simple bet. May the best man win."

Art held out his hand, and Patrick shook it with a grin. The bet was sealed, but there was an underlying seriousness in Art's eyes. As they waited for the pizza, the two friends continued their banter, but there was a new edge to their jokes—like the stakes had just gotten a little higher.

---

A week after their doubles match, the annual Oakridge Country Club gala was in full swing, the ballroom bustling with elegantly dressed members and guests. The chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting warm light onto the neatly set tables, while smooth jazz played in the background. You stood near the entrance, surveying the glamorous crowd, your fitted dress drawing approving glances from a few partygoers.

Art was the first to spot you, leaning against a wall with a cocktail in hand, chatting up club regulars. He was dressed in a sharp suit, but he carried himself with a boyish charm. His grin was wide as he motioned for you to come over, his eyes moving from your head to your heels in a way that felt like a visual undressing.

"Wow," he said, raising his glass, "you clean up nice. I was expecting you to show up in your waiter outfit or something. I'm glad you went with the dress, though. Much more... appealing."

You gave him a playful smirk, stepping up to the bar. "Thanks, Art. I do my best to impress." You glanced at his drink. "Are you trying to get a head start on the partying? We haven't even hit the dance floor yet."

He took a sip, his gaze lingering on your lips. "Hey, I like to loosen up a bit before the main event. Keeps things interesting. Besides, you can't blame a guy for wanting to enjoy himself, right? You gonna  help me enjoy my night and keep me company?"

Patrick, who was laughing with a group nearby, walked over just in time to catch Art’s comment. He gave Art a look of mild disapproval, then turned to you with a sly smile.

"Don't listen to him. He's just trying to get you alone so he can talk your ear off about his latest tennis game.” Patrick shrugged, looking at Art with a smirk. "So boring. I was thinking we could have some real fun; you know? A little adventure never hurt anyone." He leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the music. "Besides, I know all the best spots around here. Private spots. You'd love it."

Art shook his head, clearly not amused. "Come on, Patrick. We're here to enjoy the gala, not to sneak off like we're in high school. Why don't we all just enjoy the party and see what happens?"

Patrick grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Art. But if you change your mind,” he turn towards her. “You know where to find me. I'll be the one having a good time." He turned to you with a suggestive wink while walking backwards to god knows where.

Art rolled his eyes, then smiled at you in a more relaxed manner. "Sorry about him, he’s not really allowed to leave the house. He's a good guy, but he doesn't always know when to tone it down. If you want, I can keep him from getting too out of hand. I wouldn't want him to scare you off." He says mocking Patrick as he walked away.

You laugh full heartedly glancing at Patrick, who was already chatting with a couple of other guests, his flirtatious demeanor on full display. " Thanks so for watching out for me. It can get a little overwhelming with him around." You continued smiling.

Art nodded smiling, his expression kind. " I was thinking we could get some food, maybe hit the dance floor. What do you think?" Art suggested, leading the way. "I'm sure Patrick will join us once he's done charming the entire room."

Patrick shot Art a mischievous look but didn't follow immediately. You could tell he was reveling in the attention, his flirtatious behavior attracting more than a few curious glances from the other guests.

The band switched to a slow, romantic melody, and Art extended his hand to you with a charming smile. "Care to dance?" he asked, his eyes warm and inviting.

You nodded, accepting his offer, and he led you onto the dance floor. His touch was gentle yet confident as he pulled you close, swaying to the music with practiced ease.

As you danced with Art, you felt yourself relaxing into his embrace. His presence was comforting, his movements smooth and graceful. You couldn't help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling a somewhat new sense of closeness.

Halfway through the song, Patrick appeared out of nowhere, a cocky grin on his lips. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

Before you could respond, he swept you away from Art, taking you into his arms with a boldness that made you some type of way. His touch was hot, his body pressed close to yours as he guided you across the dance floor.

"So, you replacing your best friend with that ginger?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive. "Boring you to tears yet?" He raised a brow.

You laughed, unable to resist his playfulness. "Hmm maybe. He's actually a great dancer, unlike some people."

Patrick smirked, pulling you even closer. "Yeah, but can he do this?" With a sudden flourish, he spun you around, his movements fluid and confident. "Do I need to remind you why I’m better.” He paused.

“How, I’m better.”

You chuckled rolling your eyes, enjoying the thrill of dancing with Patrick. He was unpredictable, to say the least, his smile contagious. But as much as you were drawn to him, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for leaving Art behind.

Patrick reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and offering you one with a sly grin. "Care for a smoke?" he asked, lighting his own with practiced ease.

You just shook your head with hesitant smile. “I really shouldn’t, Pat. You know I’m trying to quit.”

He looks you up and down with a seductive look.  

“We’ve all got our guilty pleasures, darling.”

As the song came to an end, Patrick took your hand, leading you away from the dance floor and out onto the club’s private beach. The cool breeze off the ocean felt refreshing against your skin, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing.

You hesitated for a moment, then accepted the offer, taking the cigarette from him and inhaling deeply. The nicotine hit you like a rush of adrenaline, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as you exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air.

"So, what do you think?" Patrick asked, his eyes searching yours. "Having fun yet?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of liberation wash over you. "Yeah, I am. Thanks for... you know, stealing me away." You added motioning to the cigarette.

Patrick grinned, leaning in closer. "Anytime, sweetheart. Just say the word, and I'll whisk you away to paradise."

You laughed, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.

Patrick decided to sit down in the sand, his cigarette glowing in the darkness as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. You sat beside him, savoring the familiar scent of his cologne.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, then shot you a sidelong glance. "You know, I was just thinking about that first summer at tennis camp," he said, his voice low and playful. "I mean, it's where it all started, right? Just a couple of kids swinging rackets and making trouble."

You smiled at the memory. "Yeah, it's crazy to think about how much has changed since then. Who would've thought you'd actually make it big in tennis? Meanwhile, I could barely keep the ball on the court."

Patrick laughed, a warm, hearty sound that cut through the night air. "Yeah, well, I guess I had a little more motivation to stick with it. You were off climbing trees and playing in the woods, and I was stuck with a bunch of coaches yelling at me to hit harder."

"Hey," you replied with a smirk, "it's not like I was useless. I remember showing you all the best spots to hide when you wanted to skip practice."

Patrick nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I remember. You were the queen of avoiding responsibility. If it weren't for you, I'd probably have become a strait-laced tennis prodigy. Instead, you dragged me into the wilderness to make forts and find weird bugs."

You both chuckled, reminiscing about those lazy summer days when tennis camp was more of a suggestion than a requirement. But then Patrick's expression turned sly, and he leaned in a bit closer.

"Speaking of weird things from our past," he said, his voice dripping with playful insinuation, he nudged you. "You remember that bet we made? The one about if we were both green by the time you turned 16, we'd, you know, be each other's first?"

Your face grew warm at the memory. It had been a silly bet between two best friends who figured they'd never find anyone else in their small circle. But the fact that you followed through with it made it more than just a joke.

"Yeah," you replied, pretending to be nonchalant, "I remember, Pat we’re not that old. It was a dumb bet, but I guess we kept our word, didn't we?"

Patrick nodded, a cheeky grin spreading across his lips. "We sure did. And you know, I wasn't expecting it to be so... memorable. I thought we'd just laugh about it later, but it was kind of nice. You know, like a rite of passage or something."

You laughed, trying to deflect his innuendo. "A rite of passage? Yeah, right. More like a hilarious disaster. I mean, you had no idea what you were doing."

Patrick raised an eyebrow, his grin growing wider. "Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad. Besides, you were just as clueless. At least I managed to keep my cool, mostly."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile at his cockiness. "Mostly, huh? If I remember correctly, you tripped over your own shoes and nearly fell face first."

Patrick groaned, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Okay, maybe I was a little clumsy. But you have to admit, it was an experience neither of us will forget. And hey, we did it together. That's gotta count for something, right?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of nostalgia and fondness. "Yeah, it does. I'm just glad it didn't ruin our friendship. It could've been awkward, but it wasn't."

Patrick leaned in, his gaze locking with yours. "Of course it wasn't. We were best friends. We still are. And besides, even if it was a bit awkward, it was worth it. You know, just to say we did it." He flicked the ash from his cigarette, then added with a wink, "And hey, I was your first. That's something not everyone can say."

You laughed, pushing him lightly on the shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head. You still have a long way to go before you become a pro. But if you need any advice on how to avoid tripping over your own shoes, I'm here for you."

Patrick grinned, taking a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it into the sand. " If you ever want to make another bet, I'm always up for it. " He Looks at you seductively, his eyes full of mischief. " I think if you were to give me another chance, you’d find that I’ve improved quite a bit. " He gives you his signature smirk.

You scan his face trying to find sincerity in his words, not sure how you’d feel if he was. “What are you trying to get at Patrick?”

“Nothing at all.” He raised his hands in a surrender, cigarette in mouth looking away. “I’m just saying, I feel like I deserve a redemption arc,” He takes his cigarette putting out in the sand. “I wasn’t the most…giving you can say.” He looks back at you, under his brows. “And I just want to show you that I’ve changed, for the better.” He offers a smile.

You just nod your head in fake agreement. “Uhh, how much have you had to drink tonight pat?  Is it time to call you a cab?” You questioned with a week smile.  

“Oh, shut up, I’m dead sober.”  He said leaning in.  He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Besides, what's life without a little adventure?"

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. It was a simple gesture, but there was something in the way he did it that made your heart skip a beat. Patrick had always had a way of pushing boundaries, but tonight, he seemed more deliberate, more intent.

"Adventure?" you replied, your voice slightly breathless. "Are you planning something?"

Patrick's smile grew, his eyes locking with yours. "Maybe. But you know me—always full of surprises." He stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your waist. "But I promise, it'll be a good one."

You felt a rush of heat at his touch, the closeness between you stirring something deep within. Patrick leaned in, his lips just inches from yours. "So, do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "No I don’t, Patrick, because I know you. Why? What are you up to?"

Patrick's gaze grew more intense, his eyes fixed on yours. "I just wanted to try something." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through you.

The kiss deepened, the heat between you building as Patrick pulled you closer. His hand slid around your waist, holding you firmly as he kissed you with a newfound intensity. The sound of the waves seemed to fade away, replaced by the pounding of your own heart.

Patrick's other hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle yet assertive. His kiss was slow and deliberate, each movement a carefully orchestrated dance that left you breathless. As his lips moved against yours, you felt a rush of desire, a connection that seemed to transcend words.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with emotion. He looked at you, his lips slightly parted, as if he was trying to read your thoughts.

“Show me.” You said looking him deep in his eyes barley a millimetre away from his lips.

“Show you what darling?” He question with a smile gracing his lips

“How you’re better than Art.”

That’s not what he was expecting at all. Maybe a ‘show me how you’ve improved.’ But certainly not you using his own words against him, That’s for sure.

That didn’t stop Patrick's smile from getting bigger though, as he moved his hands all over you, bringing you in for another wet and sloppy kiss. He slowly laid you down into the sand using his teeth to slide up your dress around your waits.

He slowly kissed your stomach stopping at the hem of your thong. Moving it to the side, he slides one of his digits up and down your slit.

Looking up to you with a sly smile, he lets out a contented sigh. " Give me some of this sweet pussy." With the excited flattening of his tongue, he dives right in, right there, on the beach. Before you even having a chance to fully lay down, Patrick slides his arms beneath your legs and pulls you in. 

As you begin to grind into him and yearn for more of his tongue, you play with one of your tits. Suddenly too shy to look him in the eye, you reach down and tug on his hair. You can feel your cheeks getting hot with shame at how quickly you folded for him.   “Tongue fuck me, please, Pat. When did you get so good at this?”

 he consumes you. his hands are playing with your ass and thighs. He kneads the skin and spreading you out. He trust his tongue into your entrance and explores your pussy.  Less than a minute later, your walls start to twitch around his tongue. He takes in all your cum. When he looks up back at you, he just gives you a sly smirk. 

Patrick rolled onto his back beside you, his chest heaving slightly from the intensity of what just happened. You try to get your breathing back to normal when suddenly you let out a random laugh.

Patrick turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "What's so funny?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, but his face still wet from your essence.

You shrugged, trying to stifle your laughter. "I don't know, it just hit me—how did we end up here? One minute we're at the gala, and the next we're... well, doing this." You gestured at the beach, and your unruly appearance.

Patrick grinned, rolling onto his side to face you. "Maybe it's fate," he said, his voice soft and playful. "Or maybe it's just because I couldn't resist pulling you away for a little... private time." He winked, his cheeky grin only growing wider.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through your chest. "Or maybe it’s because you and Art have a weird little bet going on, and for some reason, I’m in the middle of it." you replied, a teasing edge to your tone.

Patrick frowns sitting up to look at you properly. " You know about that?" He’s confused.

You let out a chuckle. "Patrick, I’m not a dumbass, like i said, i know you. And i know Art, you guys have been total try hards for the last week, sure, you’re just a whore and will flirt with anything that has a vagina, but even Art was over doing it." You swatted at his shoulder, trying to hide your smile. "Patrick, seriously," you said, though your tone lacked any real reprimand. "You always push your luck, you know that?  You leaned in a little closer, your eyes locking with his.

Patrick's grin softened, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Yeah, well, sometimes you need a little excitement," he replied, his hand resting on your hip, a gentle reminder of his presence. "And you can't deny that you like it when I take charge. Right?" His fingers traced a light pattern along your hipbone, his touch both playful and suggestive.

You sighed, the subtle tension between you becoming more palpable. "Maybe," you replied, your voice low and teasing. "But don't think I'll always let you get away with it. Sometimes, you need to earn it."

Patrick laughed, a deep, rich sound that seemed to carry on the breeze. "Oh, don't worry," he said, his eyes narrowing with that familiar mischievous look. "I'll work for it. You just let me know when you want me to turn on the charm." He leaned in again, his lips hovering near yours, the warmth of his breath a tantalizing invitation.

You closed the gap, letting his lips meet yours in a brief, soft kiss. It was playful but laced with an underlying intensity, a promise of more to come. When you pulled back, you saw the surprise in his eyes, followed by that trademark grin.

"Consider it a preview," you said, giving him a gentle nudge. "But don't get too cocky, or I’ll make sure you lose this bet."

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

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[sunbrightheart]

ACOTAR MEN AND THE SPORTS I THINK THEY WOULD PLAY:

note: this is all up for interpretation, so feel free to list your suggestions in the comments !!

rhysand: definitely a big shot baseball player. can imagine him in the traditional pinstriped yankees uniform. real smug bastard on the field, mind-fuck strategist.

cassian: is a beast at heavy weight sports, but this man cannot run to save his life. prefers more stationary sports like boxing and wrestling. competes in weightlifting events for fun.

azriel: only participates in team sports if cassian and rhysand are playing, but i think he would thrive in individual or one-on-one sports. martial arts like bjj (brazilian jiu-jitsu) and judo are his best.

tamlin: this man screams front row prop. say your thoughts and prayers because he will quite literally go beast mode and bulldoze you over. always getting carded and warnings because he can’t reign in his temper.

lucien: now call me biased but lucien is a jack of all trades. he dabbles in all sorts of sports, mostly of which are unconventional, and is really good at them once he puts his mind to it. that being said i would say he plays a mix of track and field, lacrosse and volleyball. occasionally does archery and swimming.

tarquin: any and all water sports and baby tarquin is undefeated. loves waterpolo and competitive swimming.

varian: wind-surfing, for sure. i would also say rowing; amren especially loves his arms.

helion: is definitely a former rugby jock. a literal powerhouse on and off the field. those thunder thighs be THIGHING. also dabbles in shot put because i feel like he would unironically be really good at it.

thesan: he gives me major badminton vibes. i dont know why, but just racket sports in general??????

kallias: any and all winter sports and kallias is there. a pro at ice hockey and speed skating. likes to do duo figure skating with viviane.

beron: is literally one of those middle age, upper middle class white men who spend all their free time at the country club, sipping on top shelf whiskey and abusing the clubs workers. probably plays golf and tennis, croquet too but hes too prideful and thinks its for old people.

[ziggyevenstar]

going to pick up tennis again this thursday with my boyfriend. he’s going to use my racket for now until he buys his own, and i’m going to use my sister’s. i feel a little mehhh about it bec i feel like rackets r personal??? but then he lent me golf clubs the last time we went to a driving range so who am i to not lend him my racket HAHAHHA. i had to switch to a different coach though bec my coach doubled his rate and i didn’t feel that comfortable paying for his training when i know about this other coach who coaches for far less than my coach’s rate. i’m so excited!!!! i bought headbands and tennis skirts!!! i’m not a good player, i barely even learned the first time i had lessons but it’s so fucking fun i love it. sana bukas na!!!!!🤍 anyway, here r gifs of me training last yr

[silverraes]

are. are their choices of weapon really a golf club and a... tennis racket?? you don't have any like. knives in that house? scissors? big stabby garden tools? anything??

[sin-sidejob]

JR totes you along to his country club for the weekend, walking you along on his arm the whole time from the golf course to the bar and later to dinner. He manages to get you on one of the tennis courts, not expecting the change into your little outfit. He’s been eying you up ever since you got changed after brunch. You notice how his gaze lingers over the expanse of your thighs and how he always glances between your face and down to your legs, barely covered by the tiny tennis skirt. He nearly regrets taking you out to the country club with him until he finally sees an opening.

After lofting the ball back and forth, taking it easy on you at first until you get the upper hand and surprise him once again with your unlimited skill, JR catches the sweat beading on your brow and neck, soaking beneath the trim little collar of your shirt. He sends the ball out of bounds with a lofty hit from his racket, the monogrammed emblem glinting in the sunshine. His offhand toss leads to you retrieving it as you bend over the bench, ass high in the air as you struggle to find the tennis ball that was wedged between the bench and the high wall court. JR wastes no time in pretending briefly to help you look before he takes the opportunity before him to flip your skirt up, feigning concern as he openly gazes at the curve of your spine before swatting your ass with a solid pat of his palm. He squeezes at the fat of your ass cheek and watches it shift and wriggle as you make a noise of surprise before humming, deciding that you like the attention and let him continue, the tennis ball long forgotten by the time he’s got a finger hooked around your panties and is pulling them to the side, straining them around the swell of your ass cheek until the seams of the fabric threaten to tear.

JR whistles lowly at the glint of the sun on your glistening folds and the way you clench, ass jiggling with the shift as he molds your ass cheeks in his palms. Telling you how pretty y’are, all spread and ready for him, as he grinds against you on the private court, khakis about to stain from your already-soaked pussy before he fumbles with his belt, yanking himself free from his fly and boxers to slide between your thighs, slipping between your pussy lips. JR’s got a hand at your waist as it lifts the skirt, leaving your ass wholly exposed while he thumbs the rim of your puckered hole, already toying with your pussy as his cockhead catches at your clit, sending you whining as you prop yourself up on your elbows upon the bench.

Bowing your head down as if in prayer, you rock your hips back onto him, planting your sneakers firm onto the tennis court while grinding back as he moans your name approvingly, affectionately patting your side. “That’s it, keep being good for me peach, then we can play,” JR promises, nudging his cock at your cunt until it breaches just the slightest bit, making a wet smacking sound as his dick smears in your slick. Humming, you preen, lips glossed already and now beaming in a dazed smile as you fuck yourself back onto him, letting him bottom out slowly, inch by inch until you feel his hips and the fabric of his pants brush against your backside. You press your forehead to the cool steel of the bench, arching your spine as you feel him thrust back and forth, smacking his hips against your ass until his pace quickens, the sound drowned out by the surrounding tennis courts in play, hidden all behind the tall walls of the individual courts.

Due to how you both didn't have to hide much, if anything at all due to his reputation and shiny platinum card, you moaned his name freely. You are rewarded with JR's hand snaking down from your waist to your clit, rubbing it in pressured circles while he sends your thighs shaking as he mutters praise, stringing your name along his sentences like holy prayer. With your head bowed and frame bent over, it nearly looks like prayer, except your ass is hanging out and there's precome drooling down your thighs.

It's sticky in the summer heat, feeling the sweat gather at your spine and smear between your thighs as they slide against JR's, head foggy with the combination of sun and sex paired with being out in the open with limited risk. Barely making out what he's even saying, you catch bits and pieces of his praise, practically tasting the sweetness in the dulcet tones as he spoonfeeds you affection while bullying his cock into your cunt. The smacks of his hips to your ass quicken and you mewl, cheek pressed to the bench as you curl your hands around the edge, locking your knees back to bounce back onto him when he pulls back in his thrusts.

JR groans approvingly, voice growing louder and bearing less strength, brain failing him as he tries to speak. "Doing so well for me, ah, f-fuck, pretty little cunts j-just taking me — fuckin' made for me," he stumbles over his words, gritting his teeth as he tries to last a little longer, pressing harder against your clit, making you whine high, "gonna' cum for me, peach? Can you do that for me?"

You nod, bleary and dazed and warm all over, feeling like you've been dipped in a sugary glaze, and rock your hips back once, twice, and then you're gone. Absolutely fading while he putters his thrusts a few more times, drawn in by the clenching of your cunt and lured into orgasm along with you. He leans over top of you, hands shifting to hold onto your own as they white knuckle at the edge of the bench, feeling his stomach rest atop your spine before you shift, groaning as you lean back only to fuck yourself deeper onto his half-hard cock, feeling the cum thats dripped down his length smear against your clit as its coated his balls.

After a moment or two, you groan as you rise, nudging him back into a standing position that he reluctantly takes, not wanting to let go just yet. He does help you back into your panties that've been shifted to the side, letting the elastic band snap into place as you yelp then swat at him as he giggles, entirely amused with himself. You rise, the skirt falling back down to cover your ass as you stretch your back and knees, feeling the tenseness appear now while JR tucks himself back into his boxers and khakis, buckling his belt while he grimaces, still half-hard and feeling the strain. You attempt to hide your smirk, unable to not be amused with how he's fucked as you shift around him to grab your racket and crack open the can of tennis balls, walking backward to your side of the court, waving the racket at him mockingly.

"Oh c'mon sweetheart," you croon sardonically, tapping the tennis ball against the court in a dribble with your racket before catching it, rolling it in your palm as JR watches with his lips pursed "I was good f'you, wonderful even. Now it's time we play."

[tzatairovic]

Golfers smashing clubs or tennis players smashing rackets. It happens. Doesn't mean a person is suddenly violent. They're just frustrated and take it out on the club or racket or whatever. Some people need to relax. There's always a section of people that always want to paint Tom to be an abusive person simply because he doesn't run around with a smile on his face or has a resting bitch face. Or the fact that he just says no to pics or gets Z out of a place faster than they'd like to see. Then, run around calling him abusive. Those people need to get a grip and quickly

Alright, but that's not something we're going to do on my blog. I've shared my opinion, which says more about me than about him. What he did and the story he shared doesn't necessarily mean anything beyond the fact that he sometimes hits golf clubs when he's frustrated. That's all there is to it.

[alltimenews18]

Discover the Best Tennis Holidays in Asia: Explore China, India, and Sri Lanka

Asia, with its diverse cultures, stunning landscapes, and rapidly developing sports facilities, has become a prime destination for tennis enthusiasts looking for unique holiday experiences. China, India, and Sri Lanka, in particular, offer a blend of top-notch tennis facilities, luxurious accommodations, and rich cultural experiences that make them ideal for a tennis holiday. Let’s explore what each of these countries has to offer.

China: A Blend of Tradition and Modernity

Tennis Facilities China has rapidly developed its sports infrastructure, and this is evident in its world-class tennis facilities. Cities like Beijing and Shanghai boast impressive tennis academies and clubs, such as the Beijing International Tennis Center and the Shanghai Tennis Club. These venues offer professional coaching, well-maintained courts, and the chance to watch international tennis tournaments like the Shanghai Masters.

Accommodation and Activities Luxury hotels and resorts, such as The Peninsula in Shanghai and the Aman Summer Palace in Beijing, provide not only excellent accommodations but also access to private tennis courts and professional trainers. After a morning on the court, you can explore the Great Wall, visit the Forbidden City, or enjoy a river cruise on the Yangtze.

India: A Cultural and Sporting Odyssey

Tennis Facilities India offers numerous tennis centers that cater to both amateurs and seasoned players. The country’s prominent tennis hubs include the Karnataka State Lawn Tennis Association in Bangalore and the Delhi Lawn Tennis Association. These facilities provide excellent training programs and opportunities to engage with local tennis communities.

Accommodation and Activities Combine your tennis sessions with a stay at luxurious resorts like the Oberoi Udaivilas in Udaipur or the Taj Mahal Palace in Mumbai. These hotels often feature private tennis courts and offer personalized coaching sessions. Off the court, India’s rich cultural tapestry awaits – from the majestic Taj Mahal and the historic forts of Rajasthan to the serene backwaters of Kerala.

Sri Lanka: Island Paradise for Tennis Lovers

Tennis Facilities Sri Lanka’s scenic beauty makes it a unique destination for a tennis holiday. The island’s premier tennis venues include the Sri Lanka Tennis Association in Colombo and the tennis courts at luxury resorts like the Shangri-La’s Hambantota Golf Resort & Spa. These facilities provide professional coaching and well-maintained courts amidst stunning natural surroundings.

Accommodation and Activities Stay at top-tier resorts such as Anantara Peace Haven Tangalle Resort or the Ceylon Tea Trails. These accommodations offer not only tennis courts but also opportunities to unwind in luxurious settings. Beyond tennis, Sri Lanka offers whale watching in Mirissa, exploring ancient temples in Kandy, and relaxing on pristine beaches.

Making the Most of Your Tennis Holiday

Planning Tips

Book in Advance: Tennis holidays can be popular, especially during peak seasons. Booking your accommodation and tennis sessions in advance ensures you get the best facilities and trainers.

Cultural Excursions: Balance your time on the court with cultural and recreational activities to make the most of your trip.

Health and Fitness: Prepare for your tennis holiday by maintaining your fitness level. Hydration and proper gear, including appropriate tennis shoes and attire, are essential for an enjoyable experience.

Conclusion A tennis holiday in China, India, or Sri Lanka offers a perfect blend of sport, luxury, and cultural immersion. Whether you’re looking to improve your game, enjoy world-class facilities, or explore some of the most captivating destinations in Asia, these countries provide the ideal backdrop for an unforgettable tennis vacation. Pack your racket, book your trip, and get ready to discover the best tennis holidays Asia has to offer!

[savagecowboy]

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏

“ Jesus it’s bright ” Severen hisses, hand raising to shield his squinted eyes from the fluorescent blaze assaulting them. They all make similar sounds of discomfort, trying to find anywhere less brilliantly lit to look, but the intense light reflects viciously off the endless white linoleum. “It ain’t too bad” Mae tries, but she’s just as blinded, even with the most experience in the luminance of this world. A voice cuts through their agony, “Welcome to Walmart”. It is said drolly, not even disturbed by the strange figures stumbling into her domain.

“Ma’m ” Jesse acknowledges with a nod, clapping a hand on Severen’s shoulder and pushing him through the entrance proper, the rest of them following in their wake. They duck into the first row of aisles to get their bearings, and their salvation; an end cap sporting various glasses. They each don a pair of the darkest tinted lenses they can find. The greeter watches them vaguely, finding them odd, but hardly the strangest thing she’s seen on the job. She quietly goes back to her book.

Now with protection against the overbearing brightness, the family of nocturnal creatures surveys their surroundings with open interest. The aisle they have retreated to is stocked with hygiene products, some of which Mae and Diamondback are intrigued by, the latter especially. The former vaudevillian stares at the boxes of hair dye, a far cry from the peroxide and toothbrush method she is used to.

Severen is bored fast and charges down the main thoroughfare eager to roam. Homer trails after, and Jesse too, but not before kissing the crown of Diamondback’s head— for which she gives him a loving look. The boys come upon the sporting equipment, weights and fishing reels, tennis rackets and basketballs. Homer is drawn to the bikes, hands eagerly running over the display models, eyes alight with possibility. Severen scoffs at him, but not ill-naturedly, pulling down a model that looks to Homer’s size. The smaller creature saddles the bicycle and tests the pedals while Severen holds the handlebars in place.

“This is nice” Homer sighs, completely enraptured with the conveyance. Jesse stands at the end of the aisle smirking at the two looking like siblings, a break in their typical squabbling--an affirmation of sorts of their brotherly kinship. “We can get it” the patriarch says, feeling a sense of cheer at the light in Homer’s eyes. The old boy was often fraught, seeing him truly enjoying himself was a pleasure infrequently witnessed. Severen does not share Jesse’s satisfaction in generosity.

“Hey, if he gets one I want one!” Just like siblings. The Silvered One does not humor this with comment, but rolls his eyes and moves on, there is no point in arguing with the man, he would take what he wanted regardless. Even in the next aisle over he can hear their bickering voices.

Jesse finds himself looking at golf clubs. He has never played— and has no interest to— yet admires the gleaming, weighted steel for what it is, luxury incarnate. Such a frivolous excess, what humans took joy in, perhaps that was what made them taste so good— their gluttonous need to fill themselves with any distraction from their own humanity. He lifts one of the oddly sculpted mallets from the rack and gives it a perfunctory swing. It does feel good, but he can’t appreciate what the suggested weight is supposed to convey to him, supernatural strength making it just another stick in hand.

The boys have quieted. Jesse is now concerned.

He puts the club back and peeks back around the corner to discover they have abandoned him, no doubt tearing around on their newly acquired bikes. He’s starting to regret having allowed this.

Mae and Diamondback go from beauty care to the clothing aisles, the older woman astounded by the wide swath of fabrics and designs. She rubs material through her fingers, and marvels at the touch. “You should try this!” Mae declares handing Diamondback a patterned dress, it does look nice and she smiles warmly, but when they get to the dressing rooms they find them locked and the attendant missing— if there was one to begin with. They are both disappointed. “Get it anyway” Mae insists, “Severen can sew, maybe he can fix it up if it doesn’t fit”. “Sweetie, what Severen sews are patches, and tears. I don’t think he knows the first thing about ladies’ clothes”. They share a laugh, and go back to the racks selecting a few things each with casual abandon, each making a little show of their discoveries.

The cowboy slowly glides down the wide aisle, head turning back and forth to see what goods are available to be perused. He has lost his smaller companion, but worries not for the little brute’s safety; this is a sleeping place and they know not what monsters they have let under their bed. He picks up his pace to bypass the electronics, their high pitched whine making his head ache and teeth grind compulsively. He slows at the display of books. It is a single cover that intrigues him, an image of a woman in seductive repose, a man indulgently bracing her in his widespread arms. His face is turned toward what is assumed to be the moon, his eyes dark, subtle points of teeth visible against reddened lips. The title is in the same vein of unsubtle subtext, “The Night Kiss”, and Severen openly laughs at the romanticism both try to convey.

A woman he had not bothered to clock stands near his elbow and lets out a huff. “It’s a very powerful series, it’s won awards” she chides him, as if her sole purpose in this world was to defend this creation from derision. He faces her, peering through his dark lenses at her indignant face, thinking about what she might look like screaming. “It sure looks rivetin’”, he says, the words slow, displaying his teeth as he talks. She can’t quite put her finger on what is so disturbing about him, but whatever it is it causes her to about face and hurry away; sparing only one glance back, which earns her a little wave from him— she picks up her pace.

“Makin’ friends?” Jesse has caught up, he is holding a book himself, some war history or another. Severen doesn’t share his nostalgia for the past. “Just takin’ some recommendations”. They chuckle and move on, catching up with Homer in the toy section. The eldest of them has parked his bike and is fiddling with a puzzle cube, hands moving fast over it, engrossed in finding the solution.

“Got some readin’ material down yonder”. Jesse tells The Little One, who nods, distracted but listening, he will surely be heading there next when he finishes with his current interest. Severen has bypassed both of them and is looking at a shelf of plastic, vaguely gun shaped objects. His mouth is open as he stares, slightly befuddled. Pulling one down he eyes it hard, squeezing the trigger and hearing a click inside.

“Nerf?” Jesse reads over his shoulder, just as intrigued. When they were boys a toy gun was whatever stick you found, this sculpted, fantastical depiction of a firearm is the first time in what feels like an eternity that Severen can feel an inner child calling out. He rips it out of the packaging and loads the foam darts into the barrel of the device, the heavy, chunking click as he loads it not as satisfying as the real thing, but fun still. He aims at a sign above them declaring something about ‘Rollbacks’ and shoots. The rubber tip sticks just outside the center of the ‘o’.

Severen clucks his tongue. “Bad weight” he comments, but has not lost any love of his new found contraption. He moves down the aisle to admire more styles and designs of the bizarrely crafted weaponry. Jesse grins, but catches sight of the time on an overhead clock. “Not much longer, we still gotta eat, I’m gonna round up the herd, meet me up front”. “Uh huh”, Severen distractedly answers.

Homer is exactly where Jesse expects, a stack of books near his feet. He gives him the same warning. Homer finds an abandoned basket and loads in his selections, hanging the handles off the grips of his bike and following in Jesse’s wake. The ladies are found sharing horrible smelling candles with one another. Even the good ones are too perfumed to enjoy, but their true delight seems to be finding the worst available. Diamondback forces one on Jesse making his eyes water. They laugh at his displeasure, while he grants them a weary grin, rubbing his nose.

Homer still has his face buried, acknowledging nothing but the words on the page, lost in the art of fiction. Mae knows him best in these moments, remembering the pretense he had approached her with as a shy boy seeking her help. There is nothing false about his love of knowledge or reading, and the sight of it endears her to him. She reaches out grasping his hand, without looking up he clasps her palm and they walk side by side with the other couple to the checkout.

Severen is there waiting, getting nagged at the cashier for committing some offense. His playful— dangerous— smile is a sure sign that they need to wrap up the excursion, nothing but trouble comes from the most violent of them falling idle. “Sorry bout the trouble ma’m” Jesse cuts in, stepping past Severen to scatter his purchases across the conveyor belt. The rest follow suit, tearing the tags off their glasses and passing them forward rather than removing them. Severen tosses the pack of gum that had caused the dispute on top of the pile. “Told’ya I’d pay, I’m no thief”.

The cashier glowers at the speaker, moving their chosen items along over the scanner down to where Diamondback begins to bag them. Other than Jesse sharply telling Severen to help with the bagging—anything to break his hungry stare— the transaction continues in silence. Instead of reading out the total, the woman points to the number and Jesse counts out a few large bills.

“No change” he tells her, it’s the first time her hard expression flickers, looking again from the total to the amount of money he has given her. They tried to be as unmemorable as possible; after tonight Jesse thinks they could use a little help in making people forget. They round up the bags, Diamondback forcing Severen to carry most of them despite protest. “Ain’t you supposed to be a gentleman?” She reprimands pointedly, which silences him. He has learned to read the underlying motherly terseness, knowing this is a battle already lost. Homer snickers as he pushes past the overburdened one.

They head back out to the parking lot. Jesse mounts Homer and Severen’s bike to the rack on their current RV, lucky that this one had such a contraption already installed. They haphazardly load the rest of their acquired treasures inside; showing each other their new boons as a course is set for food and shelter. “What’re ya’ll in the mood for?” Jesse calls over his shoulder, as he starts the engine, figuring tonight will be one of their rare group hunts. “Sumethin’ easy, I’m tired” Homer yawns. Mae swats a dart aimed at him out of the air and gives Severen a mildly irked look. He chuckles in response. “I think I saw a little place” Diamondback chimes in, “hill above a drive-in. This late probably be some couples who got “lost in the moment” up there”. It’s a good bet, Jesse gently squeezes her chin affectionately.

She had been right, and it had been an easy meal, enough for all with Homer and Mae sharing. Severen was the only one who griped, but he never was one for cologne— especially to the degree in which his victim had applied it. At an hour until sunrise they made it back to the little RV village they had been camping at, far to the back where their taped windows didn’t draw questions. Each readied for slumber, Jesse and Diamondback at the front so they could quickly make their getaway if needed, Mae and Homer on the open floor in a pile of blankets should the daylight bleed through, and Severen in the alcove at the midpoint of the vehicle allowing him an angle of attack in either direction.

With hunger sated, and the exhaustion of the night’s activities setting upon them, one by one the hunters fell to sleep. The camper filling with Severen’s snores and Homer’s tormented murmurings.

[magdasabs]

PP saw a golf club flying and a tennis racket smashed and was like NOPe, we are not doing that

Especially when they only spent like 24h per month together

she saw a golf club flying and a tennis racket smashed and went 'that one, I want her forever 😍😍😍'

[hstarke]

@audrasmythe setting: maidstone club, east hampton

It's chilly, but the sun makes it less so. It shines down on a blonde head of hair making it appear even blonder — same with the bluer eyes, as he watches court-side as the most despicable men he's ever met take racket swings.

Guy's good, better than him. But guy probably grew up with a tennis court in his backyard, practiced every weekend, paid his merit into medals. Here's how worlds clash: old money invites new money to country club. New money considers suicide. New money needs old money, and new money can shed his skin as often as snakes do in the solstice.

Tennis is just one of the many ridiculous hobbies he's willing to take on, if it means a good seat, at the right table. Plus, he rocks the shorts better than most.

"You playing, Starke?"

"Sober? Fuck no." Just like that, he stands. "I'll grab something. Be right back."

On his way inside, he stumbles upon her. At first, just a pair of pretty legs under a short skirt, preppy in socks that go up the ankle.

"You grow up around these fuckers?" He asks suddenly. "Golf's one thing, but this — pretty sure is just some freak's excuse to watch other people sweat." Beat. "I like the skirt."

[feel-thebern776]

kiryu sees mario and goes that's rad

what is mario style like

a fighting style focusing on footstools

there is also a move where kiryu throws an mf like bowser in sm64

comes with a weapon like majima's slugger and mad dog styles which is either a tennis racket, a baseball bat, golf club, or the mach bike

kiryu pulls out a fire flower in a heat action and starts shooting mfs; other heat actions involve various power ups from the mario franchise

another heat action involves bljing an opponent

[dreamer-hangugeo]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 Just like in English, there are certain verbs you can pair with each sport. We will be looking at three main verbs that are used when referring to playing sports: 치다, 타다, and 하다. (𝟏) 치다 is a verb meaning to hit or to strike. It is used for sports which involving hitting a ball with something such as a racket, stick, club... For example 골프 (golf), 당구 (billiards), 배드민턴 (badminton), 탁구 (table tennis/ ping pong), 테니스 (tennis), and so on. 탁구를 치다 = to play table tennis 우리는 점심 시간에 때때로 탁구를 쳐요. (We sometimes play table tennis during lunchtime.) (𝟐) 타다 is a verb meaning to ride or to get on. It is used for sports which involving riding something. For example 스케이트 (skate), 스키 (ski), 스노보드 (snowboard), 롤러스케이트 (roller skate), 스케이트보드 (skateboard), 자전거 (bicycle), and so on. 스케이트를 타다 = to ice-skate 지수 씨는 스케이트를 탈 수 있어서 겨울을 좋아해요. (Jisoo likes winter because she can skate.) (𝟑) 하다 is a verb meaning to do and playing sport is part of doing. It is used for all other sports. For example 축구 (football), 야구 (baseball), 배구 (volleyball), 수영 (swim), 태권도 (taekwondo), 농구 (basketball), 요가 (yoga), 복싱 (boxing), and so on. 축구를 하다 = to play football 일요일에 친구들하고 같이 축구를 해요. (I play football with my friend on Sunday.) * Please note that 하다 also can be used in place of 치다 or 타다 in many cases. For example: 테니스를 치다 = 테니스를 하다 = to play tennis 스케이트를 타다 = 스케이트를 하다 = to ice-skate #KoreanLanguage #KoreanVocabualry #Studywithme #LearnKorean

---  

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[trendingrepots]

Carbon Fiber Market - Forecast (2024 - 2030)

Carbon Fiber Market Overview

Carbon Fiber Market size is forecast to reach $15.3 billion by 2030, after growing at a CAGR of 11% during 2024-2030. Carbon fiber is a high strength, low weight, high stiffness, conductive to electricity, and is one of the most corrosion and heat resistant material. Growing demand for lightweight products from aerospace & defense, automotive, and wind energy industries and minimizing carbon emissions are driving the market growth. Whereas, the growing building and construction sector in the emerging country is also driving the market growth. As carbon fiber is used primarily in the strengthening and reinforcement of concrete, steel, timber, and masonry. Furthermore, increasing demand for carbon fiber composite in consumer electronics has made the products lighter and thinner, and more textured is likely to drive the market growth. The carbon fiber market is witnessing a significant trend with an increased adoption in the automotive industry. As automotive manufacturers strive to enhance fuel efficiency and reduce emissions, carbon fiber composites offer a lightweight alternative to traditional materials. This shift is driven by the demand for electric and hybrid vehicles, where minimizing weight is crucial for optimizing energy efficiency and extending battery range. Carbon fiber's high strength-to-weight ratio contributes to improved vehicle performance and structural integrity. Moreover, advancements in manufacturing processes and cost reductions are making carbon fiber more economically viable for mass-produced automobiles. This trend signals a transformative shift in the automotive sector, with carbon fiber playing a pivotal role in the development of next-generation, sustainable transportation solutions. A notable development in the carbon fiber market is the increasing focus on sustainable production methods. With rising environmental concerns and a push for eco-friendly materials, carbon fiber manufacturers are exploring ways to minimize the environmental impact of their production processes. Innovations include the use of bio-based precursors, recycling of carbon fiber waste, and energy-efficient manufacturing techniques. This trend aligns with global efforts to achieve carbon neutrality and reduce the overall carbon footprint of industries. Sustainable carbon fiber production not only addresses environmental concerns but also caters to the growing demand for green products in various sectors, including aerospace, automotive, and renewable energy. As sustainability becomes a key consideration for businesses and consumers alike, the carbon fiber market is evolving to meet these changing expectations and contribute to a more environmentally responsible future.

 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 

Carbon Fiber Market Report Coverage

The report: “Carbon Fiber Market – Forecast (2024-2030)”, by IndustryARC, covers an in-depth analysis of the following segments of the Carbon Fiber Industry. 

By Raw Material: Polyacrylonitrile Based (PAN), Pitch Based (Mesophase Pitch Based, and Petroleum Pitch Based), and Others (Ultra High Elastic Modulus (UHM), High Elastic Modulus (HM), and Low Elastic Modulus (LM)).

By Tow Type: Continuous, and Chopped.

By Application: Composite, Non-Composite, Molding Compound, Woven Fabric, and Others.

By End-Use Industry: Aerospace & Defense (Fighter Jets, Armored Vehicles, Commercial Jets, Rotorcraft, Satellites, and Others), Automotive (Interior, Exterior, and Others), Sporting Goods (Tennis Rackets, Golf Club, Hockey Sticks, Archery, Others), Energy and Power (Wind, Solar, and Others), Building & Construction (Residential, Commercial, and Others), Marine, Healthcare, Electric & Electronic, and Others.

By Geography: North America, South America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, and Middle East & Africa

Key Takeaways

Europe will continue to have the major share of total worldwide wind energy carbon fiber demand during the forecast period owing to its renewable energy targets and use of offshore wind capacity.

High price of carbon fiber is one of the factors that’s hindering the markets growth.

COVID-19 will hinder the markets growth, as the end use industry are facing a slow growth, hence reducing the demand for carbon fiber.

Carbon Fiber Market Segment Analysis - By Raw Material

Polyacrylonitrile Based (PAN) segment held the largest share of more than 65% in the carbon fiber market in 2023. The PAN based component offers various benefits like low density, high strength, high modulus, high-temperature resistance, wear resistance, corrosion resistance, fatigue resistance, creepage resistance, electric conduction, heat conduction, and far-infrared radiation. These properties of PAN make it suitable to use across various end-use industries like the aerospace & aviation industry, automotive industry, wind turbines, anti-flame materials & clothes, and sports equipment. Thus, growth in these end-use industries further drive the market growth.

Carbon Fiber Market Segment Analysis - By Tow

Continuous tow segment held the largest share of more than 60% in the carbon fiber market in 2023. Continuous tow is the most widely used tow, due to its weight, compatibility with resins, and various range of sizing available for optimal processing. These are heavy tows with 50,000 filaments, each of these tows have heavy mechanical properties, which can be transferred to the finished products and components to enhance their properties such as strength, durability and structural properties. Furthermore, Continuous tows provide cost advantage, especially when used in a high-volume process, increases the reliability of the end product, enhance production efficiency and can be merged with all thermoset and thermoplastic resin systems. Continuous tow also makes carbon fiber far superior to glass and aramid fibers because of their added strength & stiffness and are used in manufacturing wind turbines, industrial, and automotive manufacturing. Therefore, these properties & advantages of continuous tow will further drive its demand in the market.

Carbon Fiber Market Segment Analysis - By Application

Composite segment held the largest share of more than 55% in 2023 and is forecasted to be the most utilized application of carbon fiber. The high strength, high thermal & electrical conductivity, light weight, and high modulus properties of composite makes them suitable to use across aerospace & defense, automotive, sports, and wind turbine industry, which are ideal for its growth. According to a 2022 report released by Aerospace Industries Association (AIA), in 2022 American aerospace & defense industry export amounted for $100.4 billion, which rose by 11.2 percent from 2021. The other industry driving the markets growth is automobile industry. For instance, a report released by Indian Brand Equity Foundation (IBEF) in 2023, In the first quarter of 2023-24, total production of passenger vehicles, commercial vehicles, three wheelers, two wheelers, and quadricycles was 6.01 million units. Furthermore, the growing demand for BMW i3 is also driving the market growth. As the BMW i3 is still the only car with a significant amount of carbon composite content.

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AMVET Donations

When it comes to supporting our veterans, every little bit helps. One of the most impactful ways you can make a difference is through AMVETS donations. This organization has been dedicated to assisting veterans and their families for decades. By simply giving away items you no longer need, you can contribute to programs that directly benefit those who have served our country.

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But what exactly can you donate? And how does your support help improve the lives of veterans? In this blog post, we’ll explore the various items accepted by AMVETS, their rating as an organization, pickup schedules for your convenience, tax benefits for donors, and the profound impact your generosity has on veterans' lives. Dive in and discover how easy it is to turn clutter into a meaningful contribution!

Items that AMVETS Accept for Donation

AMVETS accepts a wide range of items for donation, including:

1. Clothing and Shoes: They accept gently used clothing and shoes for men, women, and children. This includes items such as pants, shirts, dresses, jackets, and shoes.

2. Household Items: AMVETS accepts household items such as dishes, utensils, pots and pans, small appliances (in good working condition), bedding, towels, curtains, and other household decor.

3. Furniture: They accept furniture in good condition such as sofas, chairs, tables, dressers, bed frames, and mattresses (in good condition).

4. Electronics: AMVETS accepts electronics that are in good working condition such as TVs (flat screens only), CD/DVD players, stereos, computers/laptops (5 years old or newer), tablets/e-readers (5 years old or newer), and cell phones.

5. Books/Media: They accept books (hardcover or paperback) in good condition as well as DVDs/CDs/video games.

6. Sports Equipment: AMVETS accepts sports equipment in good condition such as bicycles (adult size only), golf clubs/bags/sets/accessories/balls/gloves/carts/rangefinders/sunglasses/hats/shoes/grips/tees/shirts/pants, tennis rackets/balls/strings/grips/shoes/clothing, soccer balls/cleats/jerseys/shin guards/goals/nets, footballs/helmets/pads/jerseys/cleats/socks, basketballs/shirts/shorts/sneakers.

7. Tools: They accept tools in good working condition such as hand tools, power tools, and gardening equipment.

8. Toys: AMVETS accepts toys in good condition such as board games, puzzles, dolls/action figures, building blocks/legos, cars/trucks/trains/plane sets, and outdoor play equipment (sandbox/swing sets).

9. Small Household Items: They also accept small household items in good condition such as lamps/light fixtures, rugs/carpeting (clean), wall art/mirrors/picture frames/decorative items.

10. Vehicles: AMVETS accepts vehicles including cars, trucks, boats (with trailers), motorcycles (must have title and be in running condition).

It's best to check with your local AMVETS location for any additional restrictions or guidelines on what items they accept.  

What is the rating of AMVETS?

AMVETS, or American Veterans, is a well-respected nonprofit organization dedicated to serving the needs of veterans across the United States. Ratings for such organizations often come from independent evaluators who assess their financial health and impact. AMVETS has consistently received positive reviews for its commitment to transparency and effective use of funds.

One notable rating source is Charity Navigator, which evaluates nonprofits on various criteria including accountability and integrity. AMVETS typically scores high in these areas, reflecting its dedication to both ethical practices and service delivery. This level of scrutiny ensures that donors can trust their contributions are making a real difference.

Additionally, organizations like Guidestar offer insights into AMVETS’ operations by providing information about its missions and finances. Many donors look for these ratings before giving because they want reassurance that their support will lead to tangible benefits for veterans.

The overall reputation of AMVETS as a reliable charity contributes significantly to its ability to attract donations. When potential donors see these favorable ratings, they feel more inclined to contribute resources towards supporting veterans' programs and initiatives.

AMVETS Pickup Schedule

AMVETS makes donating easy with its convenient pickup schedule. Donors can arrange for a pickup right from their homes, saving time and effort. This service is especially beneficial for individuals who may not have the means to transport items themselves.

To schedule a pickup, donors can visit the AMVETS website or call their local chapter. The process is straightforward; you’ll provide your address and details about the items you wish to donate. After that, AMVETS will confirm a date and time for collection.

The pickups typically occur during weekdays, but some locations may offer weekend options as well. It’s important to check availability in your area since schedules might vary across different states or regions.

When preparing for pickup, ensure your donations are packed securely and accessible on the day of collection. By following these simple steps, you can support veterans while making it easy for yourself to give back through AMVET donations.

Tax Benefits for Donors

Making amvet donations can be both a generous act and a smart financial decision. Donating to AMVETS, a nonprofit organization dedicated to serving veterans, often qualifies for tax deductions. This means that you may be able to reduce your taxable income by the value of the items you donate.

To claim this deduction, it's important to keep detailed records of your donations. You should document the items donated along with their fair market values. Having receipts or acknowledgment letters from AMVETS can also help substantiate your claims when filing taxes.

It's beneficial to note that not all donations are treated equally under tax laws. Generally, clothing and household goods in good condition are eligible for deductions, while other types of contributions may have different rules. Always consult IRS guidelines or a tax professional for specific advice tailored to your situation.

By contributing items you no longer need while potentially lowering your tax bill, you make an impact on both personal finances and the lives of veterans needing support—an excellent way to give back without compromising financial health.

Impact of Donations on Veterans' Lives

Donations to AMVETS play a crucial role in transforming the lives of veterans. Each contribution, whether big or small, directly supports programs designed for their well-being. These initiatives often include job training, mental health resources, and educational scholarships that help veterans reintegrate into civilian life.

Many veterans face challenges after serving our country. They may struggle with transitioning back to daily routines and finding stable employment. By donating goods or funds to AMVETS, supporters provide vital assistance that can lead to sustainable careers and improved quality of life.

Additionally, donations aid in providing essential services such as housing support and medical care. Accessing these resources allows veterans to focus on healing rather than worrying about basic needs. This kind of security is invaluable for those who have sacrificed so much.

Moreover, the camaraderie fostered by donation-driven community events helps combat feelings of isolation among veterans. Engaging with fellow service members creates a strong network where they can share experiences and support each other’s journeys toward recovery. Such connections are fundamental in enhancing overall well-being.

Conclusion

When considering amvet donations, it’s clear that your contributions can have a profound impact on the lives of veterans and their families. By donating items like clothing, household goods, and vehicles to AMVETS, you not only declutter your space but also support essential programs aimed at helping those who served our country.

The organization has garnered positive ratings for its transparency and effectiveness in utilizing donations. With convenient pickup schedules available, it’s easier than ever to make a difference without leaving your home.

Additionally, donors benefit from tax deductions when they give to AMVETS. This financial incentive enhances the appeal of donating while providing crucial resources that help veterans reintegrate into civilian life successfully.

Your generosity plays a vital role in changing lives. Every item donated contributes directly to improving services for veterans across the nation. Engaging with AMVETS through donations is more than just giving; it's about standing by those who stood for us.

FAQs

What items does AMVETS accept for donation?

AMVETS accepts a wide range of items, including clothing, household goods, small appliances, electronics, furniture, and more. However, they do not accept large appliances, hazardous materials, or items in poor condition. It's best to check with your local AMVETS chapter for specific guidelines.

How do I schedule a donation pick-up with AMVETS?

You can schedule a donation pick-up with AMVETS by visiting their website and using the online scheduling tool or by calling their toll-free number. You can choose a convenient date and time for the pick-up, and AMVETS will come to your home to collect your donations.

Are donations to AMVETS tax-deductible?

Yes, donations to AMVETS are tax-deductible. After making a donation, you will receive a receipt that you can use for tax purposes. Be sure to keep the receipt as it serves as proof of your donation.

Can I donate a vehicle to AMVETS?

Yes, AMVETS accepts vehicle donations, including cars, trucks, motorcycles, boats, and RVs. The process is simple: fill out an online form, and AMVETS will arrange for a free tow. The proceeds from the sale of the vehicle will support AMVETS programs.

Where do my donations go, and who benefits from them?

Your donations to AMVETS help fund programs that support veterans and their families. This includes assistance with job training, healthcare, education, and more. By donating, you directly contribute to improving the lives of veterans across the country.