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endless-ineffabilities · 5 months ago

Text

backhand stroke (18+)

tennis coach!Aemond x tennis player!reader

Rivals on and off the court, things come to a head between the two when Aemond crosses the line and sabotages the reader's relationship.

themes : challengers inspired, Art Donaldson is featured <3, a lot of cussing, smut!!! (minors dn fckin i), the reader and Aemond hate each other (but if they hate each other why are they fcking), reader may or may not be a cheating bastard, Aemond has a glass eye + he calls the reader ace

a/n : initially I was about to write a fic where Aemond and the reader are actual rivals themselves, but quickly remembered how tennis works 💀 so in this one, Aemond is a coach and reader is a player 🎾

word count : 8k ▪︎ masterlist

The Westeros Open is the biggest and most prestigious tennis tournament in the country.

Anyone who wants to be someone in the sport aims to qualify for it.

For you, it is everything. You have devoted your entire life to tennis. It started as something that stemmed from your parents' neglect. Rich folks who signed their young daughter up for extensive tennis lessons just so they can be free of her and galivant off to wherever.

You had sat there, staring at your shiny, brand-new white tennis shoes. Holding your unused top-of-the-line racket. Hair kept away from your face with a headband that still smelled like the store.

Mostly left alone by your family, you gathered your strength, and dragged your weak eight-year-old legs across the tennis court day in and day out.

Through the years, you found yourself. You found home, and you gave everything you had to make sure you would never lose it.

As luck would have it, you found romance along the way in Art Donaldson, who became your coach after your previous one decided to quit. He used to be a player, until he fell out of love with the game, and chose to coach up and coming players instead.

You had been wary of getting involved with him, but eventually you couldn’t resist. He turned out to be the perfect boyfriend - caring, sweet, attentive to your every need. He became your partner in both tennis and in life. Truly, you couldn’t want for anything else.

You shouldn’t.

So why does it feel like there is something missing?

And why is that void one that only Aemond Targaryen can fill?

The gigantic poster propped up in the inner courtyard of the country club lets everyone know that your next qualifying match in the Westeros Open is against none other than Helaena Targaryen.

Your image looms up to around twenty feet, with Helaena’s lithe figure on the other side. The perfectionist in you can’t help but scrutinise the details in your expression and your form. Was that really what you looked like mid-serve? You laugh dryly, feeling silly at your misdirected concern.

You like Helaena, and she’s always been cordial to you outside of your matches. The issue lies with her more brash and calculating brother and coach.

Something - or rather someone - shuffles behind you. Close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stand on attention.

"I wish I could say that you look good up there, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Think of the devil and he shall appear. You don't have to turn around to know who it is.

Aemond fucking Targaryen. Once at his prime, known for his freely expressing his passion and rage on the court, earning him the title 'the bad boy of tennis'. It was this drive, this relentlessness, that propelled his game. Unfortunately, it also served to be his downfall. After a few years as the sport's #1 male player, his career came to an end after an off-court altercation with an opponent that took his eye.

Now he is the coach of one of your top rivals and upcoming match opponent, his sister Helaena.

Which is why it should come as no surprise to you that he has made it his mission to get under your skin, with all his unwarranted flirty remarks, constant staring, and how he tirelessly interacts with everything you post on social media.

It used to be tame, by his standards anyway, with things like, ‘You need to work on that backhand’ or ‘I’m guessing Donaldson doesn’t train you well enough.’

But then the messages took a different turn. You once posted a picture of you in a fancy, revealing gown when you attended the annual gala, and he responded with, ‘It’s easy to see that all your training has paid off, ace.’

You chocked it all up to playful aggression. He’s just trying to get you to lower your guard, and distract you. You knew better than to look too much into the apparent interest he gives you.

He is notorious for being a playboy, after all. Dirty blonde hair perfectly tousled, designer tracksuits he wears with such snobbishness, a presence that can command an entire room. You’ve grown to heavily dislike the seemingly permanent smug sneer on his lips, and how he sometimes treats others like they’re nothing but gum stuck on the soles of his fancy tennis shoes.

A handsome rogue who possesses a lot of talent and who is aware of his status as a hot commodity can be dangerous indeed. If he can say that Helaena Targaryen’s best opponent is nothing but another notch on his bedpost, then he will never let that live down.

More importantly, you are already spoken for. Aemond knows this - not that he cares - but whatever he thinks about your relationship doesn’t matter.

“Aemond.” You don’t turn to face him, continuing to scrutinise the gigantic poster. “Is that the best you got?”

He shrugs, positioning himself right in your line of sight, clearly demanding more attention. “You don’t just look good. You look good enough to fucking eat, ace. Too bad about the shitty attitude.”

Hot then cold, nice then nasty. Aemond will never change. Rolling your eyes, you say, “I thought I told you not to call me that. Shouldn’t you be somewhere else training your sister? She’s gonna need it.”

He steps closer, invading your space. You look him directly in the eye like you’re squaring up with an opponent. This has always been your dynamic. Neither one backing down, neither one ever really dealing a blow.

Just constant dizzying electricity.

Sooner or later, it will all come to a head. Whether it will be your fault or his, the jury is still out on that.

“Oh, I’m sure she will,” he patronises, his deep blue almost violet eye sparkling. On the opposite was his glass eye, only adding to his intimidating nature. He hadn’t opted for one that resembled his real eye, but rather a hazy white apparatus, making him appear ghoulish, almost ghostlike. Nestled in his left eye socket, framed by a faded maroon gash, it made him look every bit like the charismatic rogue of tennis that he is known to be. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere receiving instruction from Donaldson? Not that you’ll get much out of it.”

“Art and I are on top of our training, not that it’s any of your damn business. You should concern yourself with your sister’s game.”

“If only that were actually true, ace, but unfortunately I believe that your sweet Art wastes too much of his fucking time being on top of you.”

“Fuck off, Targaryen,” you respond, trying to push the allure of his scent out of your mind. Pungent cologne and cigarette smoke, a blend that you’ve come to associate only with him. “Stay out of my business, and quit messaging me.”

“You like how we talk.”

“Trust me, I don’t.”

“Does Donaldson know?” Fully aware that Art has never had a liking for him, he knows that will hit a nerve.

Your face falls, like you’ve been caught in the act. Even though you've done nothing wrong. Occasionally caving in and responding to Aemond’s messages surely isn’t crossing the line. What started out as a couple of offhand fuck offs from your end turned into actually sharing private jokes about the other matches and training and - heavens forbid - small talk about the goddamn weather.

You’ve come to know that his favourite colour is green. Not the neon of a tennis ball, but a bluish-tinted pine.

Not that it matters.

Encounters such as this one also don’t mean anything. Never mind however much you find him attractive. Who wouldn’t? You have eyes, and you’re only human. Nothing more to it.

Never mind how, some nights, in what can only be construed as momentary states of delirium, you have imagined him in Art’s place.

Never mind just how much he gets under your skin, like no one else can, and how you can’t admit to yourself that you might actually like it.

Oh, you might actually be making yourself sick at all these thoughts.

“There’s nothing for him to know.” You step to the side, indicating that you want to walk away. But he has you cornered and you both know it.

He smirks, “Keep telling yourself that, ace. But you can’t deny - ” He steps close again. He suddenly tilts your face toward him with one hand, but you shake your head and his fingers lose their hold. “ - this. Us.”

Damn him. And damn the shiver that just ran up your spine.

You stand still, entranced by the look he’s giving you. Trick or not, Aemond sure does have a way of looking at you as if he sees you for who you really are. Not the tennis prodigy. Not the public personality. You remain a shell of that broken kid that poured everything she had into this sport, much like he had, only to come out the other end still not whole, still searching for something inexplicably out of reach. And he sees just that - just you.

You feel like Art holds you up on a pedestal, not seeing the flaws that make you who you are. But you’ve always been happy to play the perfect girlfriend.

Until Aemond.

But he’s too much. Too forward, too brash, too intoxicating. You can never know what he’s going to do next. You can’t like him. You have to be certain that you don’t.

But then again… love and hate have always been two sides of the same coin.

He whispers, clearly pleased with the effect he has on you, “Match point, ace.”

Match point. You could have him. He could have you. He makes it evident that the next move is all yours. “Don’t go out of bounds, Targaryen,” you warn him lowly.

“What if I want to?”

You have him. He has you.

And you… have Art.

Clearing your throat, and your head, you finally step back. His head snaps up to follow you, disappointment evident on his face.

“See you around, Targaryen.” You spin on your heel, walking away, immediately feeling lighter. Emptier, feeling like your body begs to drift closer to him, two equal magnets.

“Ace,” he calls to you, walking after you when you don’t turn around. “Wait a second,” he reappears right in front of you, effectively halting your stride.

You grumble hastily, “God, you really have a space issue, don’t you, Aemond?”

“Meet me in the courtyard gardens,” he says, a new intensity lacing his voice, “tonight. After dinner. Or whenever you can. Just - ”

“No.”

“Come on, ace.” His tone is insistent, with no trace of his usual bravado and cockiness. “I think… I need to tell you something.”

Part of you wants to cave in, and just agree to whatever it is that he’s proposing, but that nagging voice in the back of your mind is adamant that it would not be right. What would Art think? But what if Aemond truly just wants to tell you something?

“So tell me now.”

His jaw clenches hard, and you can’t help but admire the taut edges of his face. “No, I want to do this, just you and me. When we’ll be alone - ”

“Aemond - ” you start to shake your head, trying hard to come up with a refusal that he will actually register.

“Donaldson doesn’t need to know,” he almost pleads. “This is between you and me, ace. You just have to hear me out.”

You take a deep breath, unable to understand just what it is he means. “If it’s something I have to hide from my boyfriend, then it’s not gonna happen. You have to see just how messed up that is, Targaryen.”

Either he can’t hear you, or he just does not want to accept your response. “I’ll wait for you. Right around midnight then, ace? Should give you plenty of time to sneak out.”

Before you can say no, again, he hastily plants a kiss on your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, in surprise and perhaps pleasure at the softness of his lips, and when you open them once more, he is no longer flooding your space.

You spy him entering a set of glass doors, leaving you there stunned.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Aemond kicks at another pebble, the sound momentarily breaking the silence in the gardens.

He’d checked his watch just seconds before, the face of it spitting on what remains of his eagerness.

Twelve fucking fifteen.

Either you just got held up by your whiney rat-faced boyfriend, or you’re a no-show.

Aemond doesn’t know which one is worse. He did not know what he was expecting in the first place. Did he actually think that you would do as he says? You never were good at following orders, much less those from someone whom you likely view as something of a nuisance.

Is that really what you see him as? Isn’t there something more at play here?

Something that keeps Aemond up at night, when he can no longer deny that it is not because he dislikes you that you plague his thoughts, but because he admires you. He does admire you, he sees no shame in admitting that.

As a tennis player. As a competitor. Anyone who feigns ignorance at your insane potential would just be lying to themselves.

As a woman? A… partner? No. It has to be no, doesn’t it? You hate him, you make it clear now and again. You disagree with him, challenge his views, point out his flaws. Surely, he can’t be attracted to you in a way that commands his heart. You are beautiful, he doesn’t deny this, but so were the dozens of other girls he had run through.

Each time he watches you perform your signature backhand stroke, with that sensual growl escaping your lips and the lewd grace with which your body bends, Aemond feels his sanity slipping away.

You drive him crazy, but he can't be crazy about you.

The only reason he asked you to meet him, is because he wants to propose that he replace Art as your coach. Helaena has expressed that she wants to retire, and focus on some other creative pursuits. Something insignificant to Aemond, that he can’t remember what it was exactly. A pottery business? A fucking flower shop? He doesn’t care to know.

It’s perfect, he thinks, because your game is superior anyway. It’s what first got his attention, and now he can take part in your process. He can direct you, shape you. He can do so much better than Art Donaldson, and he’s sure you know this too.

Maybe then you might actually open up to him the way you opened up to Art. With your absence tonight, it dawns on him that he might actually have to resort to other measures. Did he seriously think he would be able to simply reason with you about this?

He sits for another half-hour on a bench nestled among the rose bushes. Surrounded by flowers of deep scarlet, a maroon he distinctly remembers as being your favourite colour. He fools himself into believing that he’s using the time to craft a plan for what’s to come, and not that he’s wasting it on the hope that you might emerge from the tall hedges, out of breath and eyes glinting eager to find him.

Well, you played your hand. Now he knows what he has to do.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You wake up groggy the following morning, having tossed and turned the entire night, thinking about Aemond.

Had he been out there, waiting for you? Your mind came up with the different possibilities of what he has to say. Or if he had nothing to say at all, and it was all just another ruse.

You told yourself that you didn’t want to meet up with him, but you had an alibi prepared. One of your old tennis club mates agreed to cover for you and say that you were having drinks together, just in case Art ever checks up.

But as you were about to deliver the excuse, Art had said something about you and him not getting to spend as much quality time anymore. The past few weeks have been occupied with nothing but tennis, and though it’s a shared activity that you both value, he wanted to stay in for the night with you. He ordered room service, downloaded two films that were on your watchlist, and whispered sweet nothings in your ear until you eventually gave up on meeting Aemond.

It can wait, whatever it is.

Besides, isn’t this the right thing to do? Did you seriously consider having a midnight rendezvous with the guy who you claim to dislike the most? Someone who encourages you to keep secrets from your boyfriend? What good could possibly come out of that?

With a heaving sigh, you push all thoughts of last night from your mind. There are bigger things at hand. The biggest tennis tournament of the year, for one.

You make your way to the dining hall of your hotel. Art had woken up before you, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek and explaining how he had to discuss some matters with your physical team. He wore the skin of a tennis coach as perfectly as that of a boyfriend.

And here you are, regretting that you were unable to meet up with another man the previous night.

The art deco layout of the lobby extends into the spacious dining hall, the interior of the hotel filled with geometric patterns and rich jewel tones. You once bid Aemond guess what your favourite interior design was, and he got it in two tries, complete with a spiel of how it reflects your personality. Art, on the other hand, had been adamant that your favourite was minimalist. That was the first time you realised that his perspective of you was different from Aemond’s.

You hadn’t yet reconciled with who is more accurate, lest it shine a light on something deeper.

The hostess is cheerful and full of pep as she leads you to your table. You know it’s coming - she’ll ask you for a picture in just a moment, and you’re proven right when she reaches in her pocket and her phone materialises inch by inch. She seems shy to ask, ready to turn on her heel with a stiff smile if you refuse, so you do your best to be encouraging.

When the photo is taken and she finally lowers her phone, you spy someone out in the distance and you make it out to be none other than your boyfriend. Leaning by the outdoor terrace, appearing to be speaking to another person you can’t yet make out, their face obscured by the decorative shrubbery scattered across the area.

You walk to the side to get a better view of who it is. That tall figure, clad in a black tracksuit… a familiar head of blonde hair… and the unmistakable cut of his jawline. Realisation sets in. Art is speaking to Aemond.

Your stomach sinks, the thought of breakfast no longer enticing. Frozen in the middle of the dining hall, you begin to attract the attention of others.

Aemond turns his head, perfectly timed for his gaze to meet yours. Like something out of a grim movie, your anxiety spikes as his smug smirk materialises in slow motion.

If there ever were a match at hand between you two, that smirk makes it clear that he has won it.

Art follows his gaze, also meeting yours, but without any trace of satisfaction. He looks at you accusingly. You shake your head at him, but you already know.

This is not going to end well.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“Is it true?”

You had wordlessly followed Art back to your hotel suite, the air around you thick with dread and anticipation.

“What did Aemond say?” You stand in front of him as he calmly sits by the window, as if you’re on the trial stand. You just might be.

“Guess,” Art spits mockingly. “Why don’t you tell me? You seem to know him quite well.” You bristle at his tone. He’s never spoken to you like this before.

“Whatever he told you, it’s not what it looks like, okay? You know Aemond. He likes to mess around with people, especially us.”

Art shakes his head in disbelief, “He even showed me some of your messages. Some of them you must have sent - what, at 3 or 4 in the fucking morning? When you’re lying next to me in bed? Not getting a lot of sleep apparently. It must be why you’re not on top of your game.”

He’s not playing fair, and you deserve this.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” you say through gritted teeth, making the statement sound as firm as possible, because it’s not just Art you’re attempting to convince. You want to believe it too.

“He’s said some things about me.”

“And I defended you.”

“Not well enough,” he shakes his head. “It sounded almost normal for you. Spewing bullshit to each other.”

“It’s just… it’s all just banter.” God, you sound so terrible. “Riling each other up to get into the mindset before matches.”

“All that… all that, I can kind of understand. It’s the other things. The intimate things that get on my nerves.”

“What - ” You can’t form the proper response to that.

“I missed talking to you, he once said. To which you replied that you do too.”

“That’s nothing.”

“You said that he inspired you.”

“That’s… that… he’s a great talent,” you stammer, as the statements he throws worsen. “He always has been. Even you can’t deny that.”

The argument goes on for an uncomfortable length of time, with Art reminding you of things that you and Aemond had apparently messaged each other, and you trying to play them off as insignificant.

Gradually, you convince Art that Aemond is just a thorn in your side. That Aemond was just overplaying the messages to get under his skin. That letting this break your relationship would be giving Aemond what he wants.

But everything he said - the messages he brought back to the surface, the encounters that were brought up - made you realise the depth of your involvement with Aemond.

You are fooling yourself, just as much as you are fooling Art.

He finally stands, heading towards the door. “I’ve spoken to our physical team. Meet us at the gym in 15.”

“Art.”

He halts, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You’re worried about what you’ll see in his face if he does.

“Are we okay?” you ask.

He turns to the side, and you catch a glimpse of the man you love, his once blithe demeanour reduced to a brief, forced smile. He nods once, and you sag in relief. When he is finally out the door, you collapse onto the bed and press your knuckles to your eyes.

You feel it all at once.

Anger. Frustration. That fear of inevitability coming to fruition. This was bound to happen and a part of you knew it was coming.

Aemond screwed you over, and it’s high time you put an end to everything.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The gardens. Midnight.

The message had been sent. The last one you will ever send to Aemond Targaryen if things go as planned.

You have it rehearsed and perfected in your mind - how you will give him a piece of your mind, how you will tell him off and tell him to fuck off for good.

As long as you think of Art… As long as you don’t lose yourself, then…

“You’re lucky I’m not standing you up, Ace. Not like what you did to me.” The bastard has appeared directly behind you, as per his custom, so close you can feel his breath on the nape of your neck.

You immediately turn to face him, and he stands calmly in his signature black tracksuit, his lips curled in their usual manner. “I never agreed to meet you that night.”

His smile is derisive, the sight of it sharp and cruel under the moonlight. “I thought we had sort of a code of honour, you and I. That we’d never lie to each other. Never let the other person down.”

“Honour?” you say mockingly. “I call bullshit. Trying to ruin my relationship… is that part of it?”

He looks away, shaking his head at your accusation. “I only did what you don’t have the fucking guts to do. Your relationship with Donaldson was ruined the moment we…” He trails off, brows furrowing. His gaze meets yours, revealing the truth that sits underneath his mask of arrogance. One that only you are allowed to see. He appears to take on a different smile this time, softer and less pronounced. The curses you want to hurl get caught in your throat when he looks to your lips and hums faintly to himself, almost as if he’s forgotten that you are in the middle of an argument.

You take a step back, and it shakes him out of his reverie. It shakes the both of you out of it.

“Well? Let’s fucking hear it then.” You raise your arms in a gesture, egging him on.

“Hear what?” he says, having the gall to be confused.

“What did you want to tell me that night? Tell me now, because you’ll never get the chance again.”

He straightens, getting his thoughts in order. He completely forgot about that issue, and talking is increasingly becoming the last thing he wants to do right now. He wants to put his lips to better use. Something more worthwhile. “Helaena’s retiring,” he finally decides on saying, “and I think I should be your coach.”

You’re dumbfounded for a moment, his proposition whirring in your head. It makes sense, it does. He just gets you. But then again…

“That’s rich,” you reply. “Do you think I would ever give up Art? He’s always been my coach and he’s damn good at it.”

“You’re not compatible,” he counters, “in the court and out of it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He doesn’t see you,” he affirms. He would never lie to you, and he isn’t about to start now. He repeats, “He doesn’t see you, but I do.”

His words strike true, and it feels as if he’s just pulled the rug from underneath you, and you’re falling, falling…

Right into his arms. And the impact is jarring, because it’s real.

“We can’t.” It comes out as a hoarse whisper, a reflection of your weakening restraint.

“Yes we can, ace.” He takes a step closer, and he lifts his hand as if on instinct, reaching for your face. But he’s frozen, unsure of how far he can toe the line that already lies fragile between you. “It should be you and me.”

Your eyes follow his movements, because you know you want him to give in and hold you. To touch your face. To kiss you.

And it’s wrong. It’s all wrong.

“I have to go.” Your voice carries no emotion. You avert your gaze at the last second and catch the defeat that flashes across his face. It should come as a surprise that it pains you to see him like this, but then again, you see him as he sees you. You always have. Which renders your next words among the most painful to come out of your mouth. “We can’t do this anymore. Art already doesn’t trust me, and if this goes on, it’s only going to make things worse. I can’t talk to you - ”

“No.”

“- and I won’t be responding to anything- ”

“Stop fucking talking.” His anger is fledgling, rising to the surface. There is no way he will calmly accept these terms. “I said no, ace.”

“It’s… it’s the right thing to do,” you murmur, still unable to look at him. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. We run in the same circles. But we can’t be… us.”

“Forget it,” he seethes, trying to catch your eyes, and growling low when you don’t relent. “Forget him, ace. Or do whatever the fuck you want. But not this, I’m not having this.”

You exhale, having gotten the worst of it out of your chest. It’s over now. But it’s not a relief that you feel. It’s remorse.

“Goodbye, Aemond.” With that, you finally take him in once more, and one glance is enough to shatter your resolve. His heightened ill temper shines clearly across his distinguished features. Under the midnight moon, he resembles a fallen angel, long dark blonde lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. His shadowy, glass eye strangely adding to the appeal.

Beautiful. And just not yours.

One last, lingering look - then you walk away. The silence is deafening, and you feel numb all over. Your knuckles are taut at your sides, fingernails digging in your palms to keep those pesky, errant tears at bay. You’ve suffered defeat before, but this is much worse, because it’s coming solely from your own hand. How easily you give him up, someone who was never yours, and how badly it stings.

“No,” you hear him say again, and you pray he shuts up so you can keep walking.

He doesn’t. He repeats the word - no - over and over like some mantra under his breath. One second you feel nothing. Nothing at all. But then the wind whooshes around you and you’re being spun around to face him.

And then, his lips claim yours, and you feel everything.

Sounds come rushing back to you. His ragged panting against your lips, the pads of his fingertips kneading the back of your head, the wet smacking of his mouth on your own. The empty pit in your stomach is filled with those clichéd butterflies. More so when one of his hands travels down to grasp your waist and press your body against his.

“Aem - ” Your mind catches up to you, and you try to say his name to get him to pause, but he slides his tongue past your teeth.

“Shut up and kiss me, ace.” He breaks free for but a second, then hungrily kisses you again. You let him. You give in completely.

“Mmm, Aemond.” Your hands reach up to cradle his face and he takes that as an opportunity to pull back and openly admire you.

“You’re my ace,” he professes, connecting his forehead to yours. “And I’m not fucking losing you.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You rush through the lobby of the hotel, hand in hand and giggling like schoolchildren as you duck your heads so as not to get recognised by the night concierge.

With reckless abandon, your entwined bodies stumble into his suite, which just happens to be on the floor below yours. You once thought you would have to be inebriated beyond belief to surrender to a sin like this, and in a way you are. You’re high off of him - Aemond in his entirety, six feet of lean muscle, notorious foul-mouthed one-eyed libertine.

“Fuck, ace.” He has his arms wrapped around you from behind, and he nips at your exposed neck. His touch roams and finds the mounds of your breasts, kneading mindlessly over your shirt. The sound that reverberates from his throat is carnal, and you feel it echo through your whole body. It drives you to press your ass against him, taking full notice of his hardness straining from his sweatpants.

Feeling mischievous, you do it again, gripping his arms to anchor yourself while grinding against his cock.

“Foul play,” he whispers against your neck, “you fucking minx.”

“There are no rules now.” You face him, running a finger along his jawline as you walk backward and he follows suit. Stopping at the edge of his bed, you strip out of your shirt, careful to keep your eyes locked on his the whole time.

The movement is too slow for Aemond, and he desperately needs more. He pushes you onto the mattress and climbs on top of you. He slides your sweatpants off your legs, then lets his hand drag from your ankle to your inner thigh. He promptly undresses, graceless and in a rush, until all his clothes are left in a heap on the carpet.

His cock stands on attention, taut and goddamn long. You feel an ache below that compels you to rub your legs together, but he beats you to it and slides your underwear right off. “I’ve always wanted to taste you,” he croons. “Bet you taste so sweet.”

You take your bra off and you’re finally left completely bare. He spreads your legs and positions himself in between. He uses one hand to squeeze your breast and the other to keep your legs propped wide open.

His eye meets yours, before he settles in, lowering his head until he’s breathing cool air onto your pussy. “Match point, ace.”

You have him. He has you.

When Aemond’s tongue plunges deep into your throbbing core, swirling inside like he wants to consume you whole, you have to bite your tongue to hold back a scream.

He knows what he’s doing, of course he does, and he’s so fucking good.

“Yes - yes - keep going, baby, fuck - ” you moan, words breathy and irregular.

He sticks two fingers into your wetness, using it to spread you wider, leveraging his tongue ever deeper. In and out they go, faster than the fuck, fuck, fucks coming out of your mouth in blissful sputters.

He suddenly stops, a guttural hmm echoing from his lips, and you look down to see his lips coated in a mixture of his spit and your pre cum. “Not so fast, ace,” he taunts. “You’ll come when I say.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, still widespread and exposed to him. “What, are you coaching me through it?”

He hums in affirmative and leans in to kiss you, juices still dripping from his chin.

“You gonna follow my orders, ace?” he asks, and your mind spirals at how utterly lewd it sounds.

“Wouldn’t you like that, Targaryen?” You let out another moan, biting your lip when he hungrily sucks on your breast. “Let’s see what you got first.”

He smiles at your playful instigation. It’s always come natural, this riffing back and forth. But this midnight dalliance - he wants it to be honest. He needs you to realise how much he wants you.

“Yes, ma’am.” He gets on his knees, a hand braced on each of your thighs, his hardened cock at the ready.

“Ma’am?” you breathe, a laugh dying in your throat when you his tip prods at your entrance.

“I can be agreeable under the right circumstances, ace.” He torments you by pushing his cock in but an inch.

“Fuck me, Aemond,” you cuss in frustration, then, literally, “Fuck me. Please.”

His eyes take you in, one darkened blue and one ghostly pale glass. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says. “You good for it, ace?” He nods once, referring to whether a condom is needed and you take the hint right away.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Perks of having a top-of-the-line physio team. They hook you up on other things too.” Your cocky-athlete way of stating that you are on the pill.

The lights are dim in the room, but you clearly see the resolve settle on Aemond’s face. He parts his lips like he wants to say something more, and you tilt your head questioningly.

He feels the need to make some sort of declaration. Something true. It doesn’t seem right to say those damned three words at this moment, no matter how much he means them. You could think he’s trying to trick you in order to get what he wants. A good lay and nothing else. So he doesn’t say anything and lets the silence speak for itself. If you know him as you claim to, then you’ll see.

You’ll see just how much this means to him.

You nod, and it’s an unspoken plea.

He thrusts his cock into you with such force, stretching your walls with a sudden and blinding ache, until he is buried to the hilt. He reaches and cradles your face with one hand, the other keeping your ankle propped by his shoulder.

“Move, Aem.” You buck your hips against him, his cock squelching in and out again.

“Yeah, baby?” He complies with his hips in response. “That feel good?”

“Yes. God yes.”

A switch flicks inside of him, and he almost snarls through his teeth. “You feel so fucking good, ace. Your pussy takin’ me so well…” His hips buck faster, in abrupt snapping motions, burying his cock each damn time. He connects your legs together and turns you to your side, altering the position slightly.

You look behind your shoulder and see that feral look etched on his face. His grip is tight on the flesh of your hips and the curve of your ass, having it raised slightly for his convenience. He smacks your behind with an open palm, and it elicits a lusty moan out of you.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps. “So beautiful like this, dripping around my fucking cock, huh? My good girl.”

The noises you release as a result are unintelligible. You press your face against the pillow in sheer pleasure, muffling your sounds.

“I wanna hear you, baby,” Aemond protests. With practised ease, he repositions you so your ass is propped high before him, your body bent forward as you have to lean on your forearms to keep from planting your face on the sheets.

He doesn’t ease up on his relentless thrusting, and you’re left squirming and cock-drunk. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you’re blissed-out on what only Aemond can give you.

“Does he fuck you as good?” he spits in obvious distaste. “I don’t think so, baby. Can’t fuck this pussy like I do.”

“N-no,” you whimper, without any trace of guilt. “Only you, Aem.”

“Hmm,” he simpers. “Come for me, ace. Be a good girl now. Come around my cock, yeah?”

“Mhhmm,” you pant, growing weaker and weaker at his statements, your walls tensing for that release you crave.

“You’re mine, ace. Mine.”

Your whimper comes out sudden and unrestrained as you let go, and feel your warm juices leaking down your thighs. The sounds of his cock growing noisy and sloppier. He releases not long after, with a few sharp spasms, decorating your insides with his cum.

Marking someone who is not supposed to be his.

But nothing else matters as he crumples against you and pulls you into his arms. If something is to be reconciled with, it won’t be for tonight.

With these things, regret always comes along with the sunrise.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“40 - 30.”

The crowd cheers at the umpire’s announcement. You can barely make out the faces morphing together into one homogeneous mob, but you’ve observed enough to know that Aemond isn’t among them. Rivulets of sweat drip down your face and you walk to the side as another break starts.

Helaena nods at you from the opposite side of the court, and you respond with a terse smile.

She resembles him so much - the one you’ve been avoiding for the past three days. With that same distinct shade of blonde hair and deep blue eyes, but possessing an aura of tenderness about her. If Aemond wasn’t lying about her plan to retire, then it makes perfect sense. She seems too good for the sport, too pure, whereas you fit right into its cruel constraints.

What sort of person would have done what you did, some nights ago, and be able to walk with their head held high? You want to believe that you regret sleeping with Aemond, that you would reverse your actions, given the chance. But the pain that eats at you is that you might have fucked things up for good, abruptly leaving before he woke up that morning.

It’s ironic - you may just get what you said you wanted. To end things. Never to be the same with him again.

You slump in your seat, wiping at your face with a towel, pushing all thought of Aemond from your mind.

From your periphery, you catch Helaena gesturing to you. She smiles, and you think that your emotions must show so clearly on your face that she feels bad for you.

She nods, and tilts her head to the side, so that you follow her gaze. Standing courtside, partially hidden in the corner just behind the barriers, you see Aemond closely watching you.

He came after all. You turn back to Helaena, unable to hide your surprise, and she sends another smile your way. She knows. Of course she does.

With renewed excitement, the match continues. It only takes one more point, one final ace, and you emerge triumphant. The court fills with cheers and sounds of celebration. It is declared that you are advancing to the next round of the tournament. You meet Helaena in the middle and she firmly shakes your hand, exhibiting no sign of disappointment.

“Congratulations! Very well played.” She drops her racket and grasps your hand with both of hers. She leans closer, and adds, “You know, I also consider it a win for myself, because my last ever match is against the girl my brother is in love with.”

You forget where you are, the revelation rendering everything else moot. The cheering crowds disappear, and it’s just you and Helaena as she dips her head comfortingly, assuring you that you heard her words true.

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” she lets go finally, with a cheerful, “go celebrate!”

You feel yourself being whisked away, cameras flashing from all sides. Art appears in front of you and he pulls you into an embrace. Several onlookers gush at the sight. You barely take notice of them, your eyes already drifting to where Aemond was standing.

There he remains, casually leaning against the barriers. Some audience members realise that the great Aemond Targaryen stands among them, and one by one a small crowd forms around him, asking for pictures and autographs.

He continues to hold your gaze, his usual smirk making an appearance, ignoring a guy waving a camera at his face. You shake your head at the scene, a genuine laugh bubbling from your lips.

You nod to each other, as if acknowledging the absurdity of it all, and leave it at that. There’s a lot more to be said, for another time. Art wraps his arm around your waist, and Aemond takes it as his cue to look away, relenting to the eager fans surrounding him.

You direct your gaze to your boyfriend, immediately seeing the recognition in Art’s eyes. He’s seen everything.

He doesn’t need to be as acutely perceptive as Helaena to realise the truth. That of the one-eyed rogue and his ace. You’ve been drifting from him for so long, that it was only a matter of time.

He was your friend first, and he always will be. You’ve watched each other grow, through endless mistakes and challenges, and there’s a fire in you he cannot match.

But Aemond can. He knows this now.

He extends a hand out to you, one which you accept with poorly masked caution. He understands how woeful it must be, to tear yourself apart from being in love with someone else. The shame and uncertainty that must entail.

For both your sakes, he decides that he has to be the bigger person and do the right thing.

“What do you say?” Art offers to you. “Post match treat?” he asks, referring to your tradition of sharing a large strawberry sundae after games.

“Okay.” Your smile is sweet and unguarded, and it reminds him of when you first met, nearly six years ago. That day, he knew he had made a lifelong friend.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“I wish I could say I’m happy to see you here, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Aemond swivels toward the sound of your voice, cigarette smoke billowing from his lips.

“Vile habit, Targaryen.” You wrinkle your nose, and he just shakes his head and crushes the butt of his cigarette under his shoe.

“Yeah, well.” He merely shrugs. He was dead set on quitting, but something came up the past couple of days, causing his anxiety to reach new heights. When you ignored him after the night you shared, he can’t fault himself for reaching for depraved solace in nicotine. But no substance would ever be enough to erase the precious memory of watching you come undone.

“Not happy to see me, ace?” he refers back to your greeting, not bothering to hide the hurt he feels.

You walk closer to him, trying to hold back a smile. “Well, I lied. But it’s not like I haven’t lied before.” You stop when you’re right in front of him, the remnants of his smoke making you feel woozy. “I also lied when I said that we can’t keep being us anymore. When I said goodbye.”

“Hmm,” his lips curl at your confession. “Judging by how wildly you fucked me after you said that, I could already tell.”

You roll your eyes, but you already feel so much better, like things are falling right back into place. All it took was some teasing from the apparently callous, sharp-tongued, ambitious-to-a-fault boy standing before you.

A boy who revealed the true depths of his compassion only to you. He let you thaw out his cold heart from its confines and declared it yours.

“Something more to say, ace?” he asks.

“You first.”

“Are you kidding? Why don’t you play this game with your boyfriend?”

You share a lingering look, effectively answering his question. The unabashed shit-eating smile that breaks out on his face is enough to tell you just how he feels.

“Don’t gloat,” you warn him, but he’s already pulled you flush against him with both arms. “I also need a new coach.”

“Mhmm,” he nods, not really in response to your statement. “Save that for later, ace. Please shut the hell up and kiss me.”

He can’t help but smile through kisses, his lips chasing yours when you make an effort to pull away and say something more.

“Aemond, will you - ”

“Fuckin’ - ” a cuss slips from him when you manage to break apart, depriving him of your lips. He answers impatiently, “Yes of course, I’ll be your coach, ace. Of course. Happy? I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

Before he leans in once more, you say, “Don’t you dare fuck this up, Targaryen.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

You lean back in mild surprise.

He laughs, “I mean - ace - or my love. Either one applies, really.”

"I... I prefer ace," you say weakly.

"Now, now, my love. I thought we promised not to lie to each other?"

taglist (all who commented on this post - surprise double feature incoming!) : @odeioemail @sapphossongbird @toodlesxcuddles @sinistersnakey9419 @fan-goddess @jhroseok @diannnsss @dixie-elocin @tostadasdetinga @1-800shootmeplease @goldyfishsstuff @pineappleicelostmary @raging-panda

Should you wish to be added to the Aemond (or Daemon) taglist, please comment on this post!

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen oneshot #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen au #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader

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iheartmonaco · 4 months ago

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could you make a george russell x m!reader smau

ik u usually do text fics but i thought i’d make a request any way

love ur fics btw :)

Sure I can, anon. You're too sweet <3

Is He Gay Or European?

George Russell X Male! Influencer! Reader

George trying to soft launch his relationship but the fans just think he's being.... George

Face claim: none

Masterlist

Navigation

Georgerussell63 on [Instagram]

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Celebrations 🎉

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User1 George who is that man 😨

Lewishamilton Congrats, mate 🥂

Georgerussell63 🥂🥂🥂

User3 so... Are we all just going to ignore the other man?

User4 Girl this is George fucking Russell we're talking about...

User3 ykw you're right

User5 Y/N L/N IN THE LIKES??????

Yourusername on [Instagram]

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A break from the sponsors (with the beloved 🤍)

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User6 this is literally the same restaurant George Russell was spotted at last night

User7 @user8 HANA ARE YOU THINKING WHAT IM THINKING

User8 OH MY GOD YES I'M THINKING WHAT YOURE THINKING

User9 y'all need to get a fkn life lol, stop obsessing over other people's lives

User10 GEORGE RUSSELL AND LEWIS HAMILTON IN THE LIKES WHAT THE HELLLL

User9 no cuz there are so many influencers getting into f1 recently it's kinda annoying

User11 @user9 shut the hell up literally let people enjoy what they want???? What are you the joy and whimsy police??

User12 idk if it's just me but y'all are freaking out over nothing, George Russell and Y/n L/n have been liking each other's posts for a long time...

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User13 we all talking abt George but what if Lewis is the one making the move here 😳

User11 PLSSSS

Yourusername on [Instagram]

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So long London 💕

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User14 WHO IS THATTTTTT

User15 George Russell 🤷‍♂️

User14 pls, is he even gay? Stop stereotyping

User15 I mean....

User16 yn will we see you at the British gp?

Yourusername 👀 maybe

User17 WHATTTTTTTT

User18 looking gorgeous as always ❣️

User19 Alex Albon in the likes too now 😭😭😭

User20 it's like George is recruiting them lmao

Georgerussell63 on [Instagram]

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Playdate 🎾

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User20 GEORGE RUSSELL SECRET GIRLFRIEND?????????

User21 boyfriend*

User22 George Russell spending his precious time out of F1. What is he doing? Playing sports with other men of course

User23 fellas is it gay to call hanging out with your friends a playdate

Yourusername had so much fun 🤍

Georgerussell63 rematch?

Yourusername you bet

User24 STAY CALM PEOPLE, THIS IS NOT A DRILL

User25 FWHAT THE FUCK I JUS WOKERUP FROM A NAP WHAT DID I MISS??????

User26 guys honestly why are we even surprised? Maybe they're just hanging out

User27 George Russell willingly spending his free time locked in a room with sweaty man, likely place for him to be

User28 fork found in kitchen

User29 fork found in kitchen

User30 fork found in kitchen

User31 fork found in kitchen

Yourusername on [Instagram]

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Oh for fucks sake y'all we're gay

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User32 OH WOW OKAY

Georgerussell63 love you more and more every day 🌇

Yourusername love you more actually

Lewishamilton ❤️🏳️‍🌈

Yourusername ❤️

User33 WHAT HAPPENED TO YALLS FORK FOUND IN KITCHEN NOW HUH

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Georgerussell63 on [Instagram]

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Lover 💕

Comments have been limited for this post

#mads writes #george russell fanfic #f1 x male reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 smau #formula 1 smau #george russell fluff #george russel x reader #george russell x reader #george russell imagine #george russell #george russel imagine #george russell smau #george russell social media au #george russell instagram au

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irregularcollapse · 1 month ago

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love means nothing (in tennis)

a Buck/Bucky tennis AU by phlegmatic

Gale meets John Egan at a Challenger in Bordeaux when they’re both 19 years old. After that, he can’t seem to shake him. But what’s more is, despite what his dad says about Gale’s game, and what the commentators say about their rivalry, and what he’s been told about tennis his whole life, Gale doesn’t think he wants to.

Auckland Open, 2015: Hard to Kill, Easy to Fuck

“You’re breakin’ my heart, Buck.” John’s voice, his breath, his body, hot drunk and heavy all over tonight—heavy on Gale as he leans right into Gale’s side and murmurs against his neck. “I haven’t done anything.” “You clipped my wings,” John whines with hammed-up mournfulness, and when his hand comes to thread tipsy-clumsy fingers into the hair around Gale’s ear, Gale’s stomach flops uncomfortably over itself. “’S just hair, buddy.” Still stroking, John leans back to look Gale in the eyes. “What am I supposed to hold onto while you suck me off now, huh?” “Bucky,” Gale warns, but even with the leaded weight in his gut he knows it’s fine: just the two of them at this table, the music’s still loud, and John’s talking low.

🎾 read chapter four on ao3 🎾

#mota #mota fic #clegan au #mota au #clegan fic #buck x bucky #clegan #mota fanfic #🎾 fic #phlegmatic fic #wots all this then lol #she finished something?? how

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ervotica · 6 months ago

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you’re an angel, i’m a dog — a.donaldson

pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not beta’d (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl

a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?🫢) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox 📥 <3

older!art is fucking obsessed with you— you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.

you’re forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.

tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesn’t care — you’ve made art better at tennis.

his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, he’s more relaxed.

you’re what’s been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.

an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.

he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.

when tashi asks you to join art’s team officially, you almost keel over.

“look, i don’t care that he’s fucking you… or that he’s in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.” she says. you’re quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.

“he’s in love with me?”

she scoffs. “you’ve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time you’re in the same room as him.” she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.

“you two can have your fun— but he has to win this year.”

art’s perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.

fucking smitten.

tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.

“go on.”

he opens his arms in greeting and you’re quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.

“love you.” he murmurs into your skin.

“love you more.”

he could cry; he doesn’t remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. you’re obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.

at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.

he wins.

how could he not with his pretty girl watching?

and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

so, yeah. maybe this life isn’t so bad, after all.

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senseofnewness · 6 months ago

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SILENT DEVOTION

pairing : patrick zweig x f!reader | art donaldson x f!reader | patrick zweig x tashi duncan | tashi duncan x f!reader

rating : explicit

word count : 17.6k

contains : smut 18+, obsession, delusion, stalking, jealousy, toxic relationship, vaginal sex, object insertion, masturbation, eating disorder, mentions of underage sexual awakening but nothing graphic until they’re all of age

summary : Patrick Zweig was your everything. For five years, you took every opportunity to get closer to him and learn everything about him, shaping yourself into the woman you believed worthy of his love, even as he remained unaware of your existence. But soon, he would notice you, you were determined to make sure of it.

Patrick Zweig had been a part of your life for as long as your older brother had been enrolled at the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy, yet you had never really noticed him before.

Though tennis had once held a special place for you in your childhood, the thrill that once accompanied the sport had long faded. Attending tournaments had gradually transformed into a dutiful obligation imposed by your parents in order to support your brother. Your brother, the prodigy who was flourishing in sports while you had yet to find an interest of your own. Sure, you found enjoyment in many activities, but none seemed to garner the same level of pride from your parents as your brother's accomplishments in tennis did.

Only at the age of fourteen did your life begin to find its true purpose. Your brother faced off another student on the court, and perhaps it was the hormonal changes in your body taking over your mind, but your attention fixated solely on that boy with a lanky figure with sharp features and captivating green eyes. His every move executed with an intensity that seemed to transcend the game itself. The confident smirk he wore as he claimed victory stirred something deep within you, so deep that it left you feeling physically unwell for the rest of the day. That night, the urge to relive the moment with your hand down your panties was so overpowering that you had barely slept.

You had attempted to inquire about him from your brother, but without much luck. He had simply shrugged with a sigh, still nursing the sting of defeat. "He's around fifteen, I guess. Comes from a wealthy family, the Zweigs. Why the sudden interest?" You found yourself crafting a tale, pretending to be unaware of Patrick's presence until now, expressing surprise at the notion of a newcomer joining the academy so late in the year.

You only caught glimpses of him a few more times that year. Each encounter filled you with eager anticipation, dressing in your most mature outfits, and accentuating your features with your mother's makeup, all in the hope of capturing his attention. Yet, despite your efforts, he remained immersed in the game, seemingly oblivious to your admiration. Even so, you held onto the belief that he might eventually look up during a set and acknowledge your support with a smile. However, he never did. Nonetheless, this didn't deter your teenage imagination from running wild, crafting fantasies of a future life together where he would confess he had loved you all those years. Then would come dating, then marriage and babymaking. Every detail meticulously mapped out in your mind.

●

You were now sixteen, and despite being only a year older than you, Patrick had morphed into a man. Or so the adolescent you were, thought so. Gone was the thin boy of the past. His body had doubled in size, with his biceps and thighs notably thicker. You couldn't resist imagining the sensation of being embraced by him, or sitting on his lap, and gently running your fingers through his dark curls. You hoped Patrick would also recognize the changes your body underwent over the summer. "Maybe you should pay a bit more attention to your diet." Your mother had suggested, her gaze lingering on your slightly rounded stomach. Sure, you didn't look as toned as you did when you were younger but you had breasts and hips now. Like a real woman. A woman worthy of Patrick Zweig's affection.

He was dominating the match, as usual. Or at least, that's what you believed. You weren’t really paying attention to what was happening on the court, but you knew for a fact that he had it all, looks AND talent. Plus, losers weren't your type.

Although no one was really your type except Patrick.

When the umpire announced the set break, you watched your Patrick walk to his chair and remove his shirt. You had to stifle a gasp in front of your parents, at the sight of him. You had seen your brother and father shirtless before, but it was nothing like it. His skin was smooth with freckles adorning his broad shoulders. His arms were slender yet defined, with muscles that showed his dedication to tennis. His toned stomach and firm abs were accentuated by a trail of black hair disappearing into his shorts. Following the line, you let your eyes linger a bit too long on his crotch. Your knowledge of the male anatomy was minimal, and you had never felt compelled to learn more until that instant. That thought made you cross your legs tighter and clutch your skirt in an attempt to keep the dampness forming in your underwear under control. His adjustment of his shorts only intensified the sensations coursing through your body.

After the match, you hastily excused yourself to the bathroom. The image of Patrick's hand gripping himself through his shorts played on repeat in your mind. Sometimes, you imagined your hand replacing his, or him touching you instead. It was enough to ignite a fire within you. After finding release, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, adjusting your skirt and shirt with care. The realization of what you'd just done hit you, doubts about your sanity creeping in. But the thought of sharing this story with him one day, perhaps after you're married, eased those worries and brought a smile to your lips. Feeling lighter and fulfilled, you exited the bathroom, only to come face to face with Patrick. His brief glance, meeting yours for a split second, sent a rush of excitement through you as he disappeared toward the locker rooms. Finally, he knew you existed. It was the best day of your life.

●

Upon hearing of his qualification for the US Open Junior Boys Doubles Championship in 2006, you were convinced you were supposed to go. He would want his future wife there to witness his victory, you thought to yourself, so, as always, you attended. For the doubles, he was paired with another young man who appeared to be around your age. While his face seemed familiar, you had never paid enough attention to the game to notice anyone else but your man. When Patrick hit the winner, the two boys leaped into each other's arms, shouting with joy, tumbling onto the court in an affectionate embrace. You couldn't deny the cuteness of the moment, but how you wished it were you he was wrapping his muscular thighs around and showering with kisses.

After the game, you wanted to congratulate Patrick but there was so much attention around him that you decided against it. You didn't want to share this moment, your moment, the moment he would lay eyes on you and fall in love with you, with anyone else. You weren't just one of his fans, you were the woman he was going to marry after all. Disappointed, you walked back to your hotel room. You knew that winning the doubles assured them a spot in the singles and that tomorrow was going to be THE day. The day you would reveal yourself to him. You knew he was going to win. He always did. You could already imagine yourself sharing the sweet memory of falling in love with Patrick on the day he became a US Open champion with your friends, or even with your kids in a few years.

The day was still young, with a few matches scheduled for the afternoon, yet none captivated your interest if Patrick wasn't involved. Thankfully, memories of Patrick's triumphant grin would be enough to keep your mind and hands occupied for a couple of hours.

Except it did not.

Those kinds of things sufficed when you were fifteen, but now, as a woman with deeper needs, they fell short. You sighed, mindlessly gazing at the ceiling while lying on your bed. Your imagination was running dry, you needed to see him, touch him, smell him, feel him.

Perhaps tonight's party, which your brother mentioned was being thrown in honor of the female winner of that afternoon's game, would spark material for your fantasies. All the players from the championship were invited, so there was a chance Patrick might attend. You would finally see him outside the court, in his everyday clothes and without his racket, the true object of his affection. You had the entire afternoon to prepare yourself both physically and mentally. If tomorrow was destined to be the big day, tonight could serve as a rehearsal.

Despite being already dolled up from the earlier match, you aimed to make a statement tonight. Entering the shower, you scrubbed vigorously, intent on achieving the smoothest skin possible. Every inch mattered. You reached for your razor, meticulously attending to your legs and intimate areas. What grooming choice would Patrick prefer? Was he the full bush type of guy? Would he like a bit of hair left intact? Completely bare? You opted to keep a small amount of hair. While shaving it all off would be ideal for tonight, the regrowth would definitely ruin your big day tomorrow.

After lathering, rinsing, and drying off, you smoothed lotion across your entire body. Spritzing perfume onto the nape of your neck, the insides of your elbows, behind your knees, and even sparing a dash of fragrance for your bits. You generously applied deodorant under your armpits, secretly wishing Patrick would skip this step of his routine. You were eager to experience his natural scent. The thought of burying your nose in his sweaty, hairy pits was utterly intoxicating.

You had packed lightly for your trip, leaving you with a sparse collection of makeup products. In that instant, you wished for better makeup skills or the company of girlfriends to lend a hand and share their supplies. You settled for a touch of pearly eyeshadow, mascara and pink lip gloss. As for your outfit, the options were equally limited. With only one dress, a common black piece with spaghetti straps, hitting at knee length. Feeling underwhelmed, you made a silent vow to yourself that once Patrick would be yours, you would dress sexier. Slipping into the dress, you tugged at the fabric, attempting to shorten it just enough to expose your thighs.

You gazed at your reflection briefly. Despite your best efforts, you didn't perceive yourself as particularly attractive. At best, you would qualify yourself as average. You pinched your stomach, acknowledging your mother's previous comments about letting yourself go. With a deep breath, you sucked in your stomach while pulling your hair into a ponytail, hoping to remember to maintain that posture throughout the evening.

You grabbed your cream-coloured luxury purse, a gift of your parents for your eighteenth birthday, trying to fit all the essentials for touch-ups in there. One essential item was missing : condoms. If the evening was to take a favorable turn, they would be necessary. Surely, he would have some, being a guy and all, right? Upon further reflection, you hoped he didn't. The idea of feeling him release his warm load inside you was enticing. You would probably spend days in bed afterward, with your legs crossed in an effort to keep a part of him inside you for as long as possible. Plus what was the worst thing that could happen? Pregnancy? You had been waiting to carry his child since you were fourteen.

●

The party had been underway for some time. While preparing had consumed a significant amount of your time, it was the mental rehearsal of what you would say upon seeing Patrick that had caused the delay. Your brother was already present, encircled by friends, casually sipping a beer. You couldn't help but envy how effortlessly he blended in. A successful career, a social circle, a loving girlfriend, and a genuine passion. He had it all.

All you had was… Patrick.

Was he even present? Scanning the room, your gaze instantly locked onto him. He possessed the ability to stand out in any crowd. With his head of messy curls, his devilish smirk and his baby blue polo shirt paired with beige shorts, he was a vision. His shorts showed just enough of his oh-so-biteable meaty calves. You could tell he had strong legs, strong enough to carry your weight as you would ride him like there was no tomorrow. You closed your eyes and exhaled deeply. Were you losing your mind? The mere sight of the curve of his ankles was enough to bring heat to your cheeks.

He wasn't alone, his earlier teammate stood beside him. Perhaps it was the perfect moment to introduce yourself and offer congratulations on their victory. But first, you made your way to the bar to grab a drink. You wanted to appear nonchalant, just a random guest blending in rather than coming across as one of his groupies. You were fond of sugary drinks but since you needed to watch your diet, you opted for a bottle of Perrier. When you turned back around, bottle in hand, the two boys had vanished. Spotting them a few feet away, engrossed in conversation with Tashi Duncan. You recognized her from the posters your brother hid under his bed. The tennis star. The embodiment of beauty.

There was something truly hypnotizing about Tashi Duncan. She was athletic yet slender with long tan legs, a thin waist and toned arms. Her facial features were equally striking, with piercing black eyes, high cheekbones, and a captivating smile that could light up a room. Her hair flowed in dark luxurious waves, the undulations tumbled in soft patterns, framing her face with an effortless grace. It cascaded down her delicate back, reaching the spot right above her perfectly firm muscular ass. She was like a siren. Captivating all attention on court and outside. You envied her. Especially now that Patrick's attention was on her. You could never be half the woman she was. Her beauty did not only reside in her physical features but also in the way she carried herself, confident but also playful.

Intrigued, you navigated through the crowd, drawing nearer to them, and leaned against the wall behind the couch where the tennis queen was seated. Taking a sip from your bottle, you struggled to listen to their conversation above the din of the music. They were discussing their future endeavors. A couple of references to Stanford in their conversation hinted that Tashi Duncan was enrolling too. Would she become a rival for you? Despite her apparent lack of interest, it was clear that Patrick was mesmerized by her. You had to intervene.

"Sorry for eavesdropping but you're going to Stanford too?" You introduced yourself, extending your hand for a handshake. You could tell by the dozens of posters celebrating her that she was the victor of this afternoon's match. "Congratulations by the way!" Despite the jealousy gnawing at you, you forced yourself to be friendly. You barely knew her, yet Patrick's attention seemed solely fixed on her. Forming a bond with her would surely draw attention to you as well. "Thank you. And yes, and he's going there too actually." She nodded in the blond boy's direction. You glanced at him indifferently and stepped closer, ready to shake his hand too. "Art Donaldson. Nice to meet you. I've seen you before right?" You vaguely recalled him from earlier but you weren't sure you ever crossed paths before. You would have remembered. He was a handsome boy. Tall, athletic, with messy golden locks and a bright smile. There was a certain boyish charm about him. Surely, a lot of girls were drawn to him. However, he paled in comparison to your Patrick.

"Maybe. My brother is at Mark Rebellato." You mentioned casually, subtly dropping your brother's name, showing little interest in engaging in small talk with Art. "And you, are you also...?" You then turned towards the man of your dreams, extending your hand towards him. "Patrick Zweig." As he shook your hand, the sensation of his cold, calloused hand against your skin sent shivers down your spine. Images of him grabbing his crotch years ago were suddenly flooding your brain.

It was the first time you were seeing him up close, you delicately examined every contour and feature of his face. From his long, pointy and slightly hooked nose you dreamt of sitting on to his adorable protruding ears you would use as handles while doing the said sitting. The charming way only one side of his mouth curled when he smiled, his sun-kissed skin covered with hundreds of freckles, each more loveable than the other or his straight teeth that would leave the most exquisite marks on your body. There wasn't a flaw to be found in that man. "No, college isn't my thing." He explained, casually sipping on his Coca-Cola bottle. Your smile fell, replaced by furrowed brows. Stanford had a reputation of recruiting talents from the Rebellato academy, which was the sole reason you had applied there. You harbored hopes of encountering Patrick on a daily basis. "Oh?" Before you could delve further, a deep voice interrupted the moment.

"Baby, I need to steal you for a second. Over at the trophies." Tashi's father had requested her presence. She excused herself, greeting each of you with a goodbye. "I suppose I'll see you at Stanford, Tashi!" You waved politely, secretly hating her for being so perfect and for the effect she had on your man. With her departure, you found yourself only in the company of the two boys. Just one left and you would finally be alone with the love of your life. Your stomach twisted into a knot of anxiety. You realized you needed to come up with a topic of conversation quickly to redirect the focus onto yourself. Despite all your mental preparation, you had not considered the fact that Art and Patrick would be glued to the hip.

Patrick sank into the couch with a heavy sigh. You mimicked his action and sat opposite of him on the second couch. He looked defeated by the sudden absence of the great Tashi Duncan. Before you could even open your mouth to cheer him up, Art turned to Patrick. "Now what?" Both of them had their eyes fixated on her. "What do you mean, that was it." They continued to talk as if you weren't even there. The night couldn't get any worse until Patrick mentioned taking the shuttle back to their hotel. You couldn't believe it. After all the effort you put into making yourself worthy of him, he was ignoring you, you felt nauseous.

"Let's go." Art proposed, prompting Patrick to rise from his seat. "Yeah, let's go." He stood up and headed towards the exit without so much as a glance in your direction. With a polite smile and nod from Art, the two boys vanished from your sight.

Your night was ruined, perhaps tomorrow would bring better fortune? As you made your way towards your hotel, you spotted them seated away from the crowd, smoking cigarettes. Approaching them, you noticed Tashi was already present. Feeling overwhelmed, you stepped back, knowing you couldn't bear witnessing Patrick's attention fixated on someone else. Seeing all three of them leave together only exacerbated the lump in your throat and the tears welling in your eyes. Taking a seat on the couch, you picked the very spot Patrick had just left, longing to feel his warmth. On the table before you rested the ashtray, bearing the cigarette butt that Patrick had just put out. You picked the discarded cigarette and placed it carefully in your pocket.

Once you returned to your hotel, you didn't bother undressing or removing your makeup, too eager to examine your newfound treasure. You simply lay on your bed and placed the cigarette between your lips. Having never been kissed, this was the closest thing to it for you. You probably wouldn't ever know as you couldn't imagine anyone but Patrick tasting your lips and touching your body.

Despite Patrick's lips having touched the cigarette, it felt cold, damp, and impersonal. The smell of cold tobacco, however, reminded you of him. You closed your eyes and slid your hand down your underwear. That very same hand he had shook earlier was now caressing your cunt, stroking your folds, you were so wet for him. You had recently found an interest in porn in an effort to calm the heat in you and now you knew how to make yourself cum with a few precise strokes of your clit. Porn had been very instructive when it came to finding new things to fantasize about. Maybe you were even getting a bit too addicted to it. But now you ached for Patrick's thick cock down your throat making you gag with each thrust, Patrick violently slamming himself up your ass, so deeply that you would feel him in your stomach, Patrick using you like a whore, plunging himself in you only caring about his own pleasure not yours and denying you orgasms, forcing you to gobble his big hairy balls or using your tongue as a cum rag, Patrick choking you with his veiny hands, so hard that you would lose consciousness and he would continue to fuck your inert body. God, his hands. You moaned rubbing your clit one last time before exploding, calling his name. You placed the cigarette on the bedside table, breathless. You could tell your fantasies were becoming more and more… uncommon but it was only a proof that you would let him do anything of you. Nobody would ever love him more than you and he needed to know that.

●

Waking up the next day had been challenging. You were still wearing your dress and you could tell by the stains of your pillow that your makeup was also still on. After a long shower, you grabbed one of those tiny tennis skirts you had prepared for the occasion. If he was too bothered to notice you yesterday, you would be sure to be seen today. It probably wouldn't be the big day you had dreamed of, with a declaration of love, Tashi Duncan was the reason for that, but it could still be worth it. It was time to revise your plan. If his mind was someplace else, you could still fuck your way to his heart and drive him insane. Once he would see how devoted you are to him, he would surely choose you. Tashi Duncan wasn't the type of girl who would get on her knees and worship his cock. She wanted to be worshiped while you didn't care how badly he treated you as long as he filled every single one of your holes.

Today's match featured Patrick Zweig against Art Donaldson, marking the highly anticipated finale of the US Open Junior Boys Singles Championship. To secure a front-row seat, you had arrived an hour early and witnessed the two boys stretch and warm up on the court, engaged in conversation. Their close friendship was evident. You couldn't help but wonder how their bond would influence the game's dynamics. You were concerned that the match might be underwhelming if neither of them was willing to assert dominance, fearing it could strain their relationship. Observing the scoreboard, you couldn't help but notice their respective seeding positions. Patrick held the second seed, whereas Art was ranked fifth in the tournament. It was evident that there was already a significant disparity in power. That would probably make the game interesting.

The thought of cheering for Art as loudly as possible to make Patrick jealous had crossed your mind. Normally, you were Patrick's most vocal supporter, and he would undoubtedly notice the absence of your chants. Without you, no one would be shouting his name, but you would be doing so for Art. However, you quickly dismissed the idea, as the concept of screaming another man's name made you physically ill.

When the umpire tossed the coin, it flipped in favor of Art who decided to serve first. The two boys took their positions. "Game on." The umpire announced, blowing his whistle as Art delivered his first serve. Patrick promptly returned it, initiating a series of exchanges. The ball moved like a blur between the two. The crowd held its breath with every swing of the racket.

Patrick was the first to score, letting out a triumphant yell. His vocal enthusiasm throughout the game had made you feel light-hearted. The groans he emitted each time he struck the ball with his racket were indecent. Was he that loud in bed? You were dying to find out. And it wasn't the only thing. The way his hand was so tightly wrapped around the racket reminded you of your earlier fantasies. You wondered how his large sturdy hand would look, milking himself all over your face. The echo of the racket striking the ball filled your mind with fantasies of a day you would be enduring such forceful backhands on your ass.

After winning the first set, he bowed his head and curtsied towards the audience.Your eyes followed his gaze. Of course. Tashi fucking Duncan. You let out an irritated sigh, and you weren't the only one who noticed. The tension between Patrick and Art was palpable. Art glared at his friend, feeling humiliated by his arrogance.

You had to admit tennis was growing on you even if Patrick was the one you wanted to feel growing in you. The match ended with Patrick winning the game. You exploded in joy, screaming his name and clapping as hard as you could. You didn't care to look desperate for him at that moment, you were. You knew he would win, he simply was the best.

Patrick draped his arm over Art's shoulder as he escorted him to the locker rooms. It was evident that something had changed in the demeanor of the blond boy. He appeared defeated and withdrawn, while Patrick was radiant, boasting to his friend. As the audience began to trickle out of the court, you lingered near the locker rooms, uncertain of your next move. You hadn't yet thought of a plan. At the very least, you could congratulate the champion. Hopefully, he would recall your encounter from yesterday and engage in further conversation. Or so you hoped. If not, maybe you would drag him back to the changing rooms, drop your panties down your ankle and bend over. Offering your pussy to him without asking anything in return, a proposition difficult to refuse.

Your scenario was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of the golden girl herself, Tashi Duncan. She greeted you as she noticed you leaning against the wall. Moments later, Patrick emerged and joined her. She smiled at him, slipping a piece of paper into his hand, eliciting a chuckle from him. His grin far surpassed any victory smile. "You earned it." She said, planting a soft kiss on his lips. That fucking slut. You couldn't believe your eyes. Sensing your eyes on them, she looked back at you and so did Patrick, finally noticing you. "Are you waiting for Art?" He asked. "Yeah, sure. I will come back later." You lied before sprinting back to your hotel room.

Upon entering your room, you flung yourself onto the bed and let out a scream into your pillow. How could he betray you like this? You had put everything on hold for him. He was supposed to be the one. That night, you had cried so much that your eyes were red and your voice gone for days.

●

The few weeks before freshman year had been the most depressing period imaginable. The horny young woman with a wild imagination that you once were seemed like a distant memory. Without Patrick, life felt devoid of excitement. You struggled to have an appetite, found sleep elusive, and questioned the purpose of your existence. Even masturbating had lost its fun.

During those couple of weeks that felt endless, you haven't heard a thing from him. You had even tried to add him on Facebook, but your request remained pending. Your sole source of information was Tashi. She reached out to you on Facebook a week before school, expressing eagerness to find a familiar face in Stanford's halls. Despite your conflicting feelings about her, you couldn't resist putting on a friendly facade. Your dad's advice to keep your friends close and your enemies closer echoed in your mind. If Tashi wanted a girl friend, you would oblige and be the best of friends. After all, she was your only link to Patrick.

You learned that he was on tour, striving to turn pro, and you were also aware that he and Tashi had started dating shortly after the championship.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He wasn't meant to thrive without you. He was supposed to be miserable. As miserable as you were.

Your blooming friendship with Tashi wasn't the most unexpected aspect of university life. That dreadful meeting in front of the locker rooms after the match had seemed to plant the idea in her mind that you harbored feelings for Art, leading her to make it her mission to play matchmaker for the two of you. She extended invitations to every party and lunch they shared, often bailing at the last minute to leave you alone together. Despite Art being a kind and supportive friend, you found no romantic interest in him. Nonetheless, you went along with Tashi's schemes, knowing that if anyone was closer to Patrick than Tashi, it was Art. At least this arrangement allowed you to stay within their social circle and be present whenever Patrick made an appearance.

Your heart raced when spotted him in the cafeteria during his first stay over, his dark curly hair and athletic frame catching your eye right away. Tashi sat beside him, with Art across from him. You resisted the urge to dash to him and wrap him in a hug. You took a seat next to Art and set down your lunch tray. "Hi, Patrick." You greeted, grinning from ear to ear, your voice betraying your excitement with a slight crack. "Hey." He responded with a nod, his hands buried in his pockets. How much you had missed him, it was maddening. Wearing jeans, it was the first time he wasn't exposing his legs to you. Was this some form of punishment? After all that time, you couldn't get a glimpse of his hairy thighs that you desired to be strangled with? Just thinking about them, you could feel the tingling sensation in your lower stomach that you had thought gone for days.

Apart from that, he didn't look that different except for a tanner skin. He was even sporting a sunburn on the bridge of his nose. You only wanted to kiss it better. "So Patrick, heard you've been losing. A lot." Art bantered before you shot him a kick under the table, diverting your attention to your salad. What a fucking cunt. "Be nice." You scolded him, avoiding making eye contact with any of them.

"I can't be lucky in every field. I already won the best prize." He jokingly knocked Art's cap off his head and planted a kiss on Tashi's cheek. Disgusting. You looked at them in disbelief. They really shouldn't act like that in your presence, especially when you were holding a knife. They carried on with their conversation, mentioning classes, the tour and tennis, of course. Feeling uneasy, you directed your attention to your tray of food, consuming more than necessary. Once done, you discarded your dishes and followed them outside.

Patrick had lit a cigarette and was pulling on it. The trio bursted into laughter, while you were watching them, a smile on your face. Even if the two parasites were standing between you two, you already felt immensely better just being near him. You were convinced that Patrick possessed some kind of power over you, the kind that could mend you with just a glance. It made you wonder if you would explode with happiness if he were as close to you as possible, if he were inside you. Or maybe you wanted to be inside of him? How you longed to be in the place of his cigarette at that moment. "Mind if I take a drag?" You asked although you didn't smoke. Health was a second thought when you already knew your love for him would be the death of you, before cancer could even reach your lungs. He passed it to you and you placed the stick between your lips. It felt different from the first time you had done that, in your hotel room. You could feel the warmth from his lips this time. Art glanced at you with curiosity, taken aback by the sudden action. You returned his gaze, silently pleading that he wouldn't bring up the fact that you didn't smoke in Patrick's presence. You handed the cigarette back to Patrick, ensuring your hand brushed against his as you did. Above all else, you yearned for physical connection.

"By the way, how did you two start dating? Tashi never told me." You asked him. She had not told you because you didn't want to ask. What had she done that you couldn't do? "It's quite the tale." He warned before recounting the event of the Adidas party. It had started on the beach, continued in the hotel room and finished on the court. He didn't forget to mention the kiss they shared, all three of them and brag about how he managed to seduce THE Duncanator once her number was in his possession. Tashi rolled her eyes, a grin playing on her lips, while Art turned bright red. Patrick seemed thoroughly pleased recounting the story, making you wonder if boys were now also in the competition for Patrick's affection. You couldn't ignore the fact that Patrick always lit up when discussing Art or anything related to him. Was there more to their connection?

Struggling to conceal your jealousy, you chuckled at the story and flashed a smile at a sheepish Art. "The three of you?!" That little fucker. He had possessed Patrick in ways you had not, and you could swear something had shifted in you. You had never found him as appealing as you did at that moment. You felt an urge to devour him, to experience Patrick through him, and that's how everything began.

That evening, Patrick and Tashi were unreachable. You tried calling her on her cell phone repeatedly, but received no response. As for Patrick, you didn't have any way to contact him at all. Despite their silence regarding their plans for the night, you weren't oblivious. You knew they were fucking. And your effort to disrupt their evening with your presence had been unsuccessful. Returning to your dorm room after a review session at the library, you walked past Tashi's room. Driven by curiosity, you leaned in, pressing your ear against the door, and were met with Tashi's muffled moans, Patrick's heavy panting and the creak of the bed beneath them. You felt a sudden wave of sickness taking over your body. You knew this was happening, of course, but hearing it was a whole other thing. Sadness settled over you, weighing heavily on your chest, as the reality of the nature of their relationship sank in. Each moan felt like a stab to your heart. You sprinted back to your room, not wanting to hear them any longer.**

●

Entering your room, you collapsed onto your bed, tears of rage forming in your eyes. Their moaning had sent jolts of electricity to your core and you could feel wetness between your legs. Your hand would have been enough to calm yourself on any other day but you were so sickened by the betrayal that you decided to go against your own principles. If Patrick was going to act like a whore, why would you bother saving yourself for him? You reached for your phone, sending a text to the only guy who cared enough about you to show up, hoping that he would be willing to offer some sort of comfort.

← [To : Art - 8:13pm]

Movie night?

→ [From : Art - 8:14pm]

Sure.

← [To : Art - 8:14pm]

Roble Hall, Room 74. Bring the snacks.

●

When Art showed up at your room, you were in an oversized t-shirt and gym shorts. This was not exactly the sexy outfit you had imagined wearing to mess around with a boy. But after your rushed cold shower, you couldn’t be bothered to pick a nice outfit. He wasn't Patrick anyway, dressing up for Art wasn’t necessary, it would even be out of character. Besides, he was also in gym clothes. You wondered for a second if he thought of this as a friendly invitation or sports clothes was all he owned. With a big smile, he revealed a bag of salted popcorn he had been hiding behind his back as if it were some kind of great gift. Even his snack choice was bland and unoriginal. You invited him in, gesturing towards the twin bed where your portable DVD player was resting.

You didn't own that many DVDs, but Art still took the time to skim through each one, reading the back covers. He settled on Batman Begins. You inserted the disc into the DVD player. The cramped bed and the tiny screen forced proximity between you, leaving you practically all over each other : both lying on your stomachs with your hips touching and your feet occasionally brushing against one another.

"Christian Bale's hot." You squinted at him, amused. Men could appreciate other men's attractiveness without wanting to fuck them, you were aware of that. But knowing about his little experience with Patrick, you couldn't help but scrutinize Art's every action and word. What if all this was pointless? You needed to ensure you weren't wasting your time. You gently grabbed his chin, turning his head to study his face in detail. His slender face boasted a sharp jawline, framed by a fair, smooth skin that, despite its youth, bore faint lines on his forehead and around his eyes, lending him a tired appearance. His small, downturned blue eyes, one spotting a curious half-brown hue, seemed to vanish when he smiled, his thin lips parting to reveal prominent teeth. The feature of his you liked the most had to be his sizable, slightly curved nose. Completing the picture was his blond, wavy hair, adding to his boyish allure. Nothing Patrick-like but that would do. "I think you're hotter than him." His blush reassured you that you weren't a lost cause.

As the movie continued to play you realized you officially hated action movies, though Art seemed completely engrossed. You reached for the bag of popcorn and noticed the brand. "Skinny Pop? Is it an intervention?" You joked, playfully slapping your own ass to make it jiggle. You caught him staring for a moment. "No, I just stole them at practice." You popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth and fed him another. "You were at practice? Did you even shower before sitting on my bed?" You prayed he had not. "Of course! Who do you think I am?" He said, feigning indignation. Shit. He really had a knack for making things less exciting.

Things weren't progressing the way you desired. And naturally, he had chosen the least sexy movie ever. Despite your attempts to engage : playing with his feet, tracing patterns on his back, even shifting positions to lay facing him, the only reward you got was a smile. It was clear you needed to take matters into your own hands. So, when he reached for popcorn, you tapped his shoulder and opened your mouth, waiting for him to feed you and as he did, you playfully bit his fingers. "Eh!" He protested, frowning at you. Finally, a reaction! You seized his hand and enveloped your lips around his index finger, gently sucking on it. He watched you in astonishment as you shifted your attention to his thumb, licking off the salt. Releasing his hand, you leaned in closer, crushing your lips against his.

Despite his initial surprise, you sensed the tension ease as he leaned in to meet your kiss. With closed eyes, you both immersed yourselves in the moment. Just a few hours earlier, kissing another man would have been unimaginable. Yet, here you were. As he turned to face you, aligning his body with yours, your fingers traced the contours of his jaw before gently cupping it, drawing him nearer. Craving to deepen the connection, you explored his lips with your tongue, begging him to reciprocate. The sensation of his firm hand on your waist sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, not quite butterflies, but a tickling feeling nonetheless. As he responded, parting his lips, his tongue mingling with yours, you playfully nudged your nose against his, unable to contain your amusement. "Oh god, finally." You murmured, a laugh escaping as your lips met. He pulled back, chuckling softly. "Why do you say that?" His ears flushed a bright shade of red, adding to your amusement.

With a playful shove, you tipped him onto his back, confidently straddling his hips, your weight settling comfortably and your hands resting on his chest, tracing the outline of his pectoral muscles. "Well." You teased, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you gazed down at him. "Let's just say that if my tongue wasn't enough for you to get the hint, I was already planning my next move along those lines. Something a tad more... persuasive." You slowly bounced on top of him before leaning over him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before trailing a series of gentle pecks down his jaw, nibbling on his skin. "To be honest with you, I thought you were into Patrick." He mumbled, his voice breathy from the attention you were giving him. You arched an eyebrow, surprised by his comment. Even Art could tell? You snorted, feigning to be offended by the idea. You briefly considered retorting that you had your suspicions about his interest in Patrick as well, but instead, you chose a different response to his comment. "Would a girl who is into Patrick invite YOU to her room?" Probably, if she were as desperate as you.

You didn't give him a chance to respond, pressing your lips against his once more and running your hands through his hair. His hands hesitantly found their way to your hips. You were pissed that he could see right through you, but you weren't about to let that frustration go to waste. You now found yourself kissing him with hunger, holding your breath as you swirled your tongue around his. The kiss turned sloppy as you weren't really sure if you were doing things right. Your high school friend had once told you that you didn't need practice, you just needed to follow your instincts. But those very instincts urged you to sink your teeth into that tongue, bite it off and swallow it. It was the exact same tongue that Patrick had tasted but now it yearned eagerly for you. You withdrew, taking a moment to catch your breath, your fingers still tangled in his blond locks. You traced your hands down his chest, lifting his shirt as he sat up to assist in removing it with a certain impatience. Once his shirt was off, he grabbed your ass, fondling it with firm hands. You then embraced him, wrapping your arms around his neck, drawing him nearer to you. He felt sturdy and reassuring in your embrace, yet you yearned for the sensation of his soft bare skin against yours. "Take off mine…" You purred into his ear before turning your attention to his earlobe, enveloping it with your lips and giving it a gentle suck.

With a ferocious tug, he grabbed the hem of the oversize shirt, lifted it over your head and threw it aside. You didn't need to ask twice before your chest was bared to him. The awkward boy you had to kiss with insistence was now a distant memory, replaced by a lustful impatient man. You could sense his gaze lingering upon your chest. He raised his hips, bringing you up higher so your breasts were now at mouth reach. He encircled one of your nipples with his lips. You gasped audibly, taken aback by how delightful it felt. His wet tongue flicking your bud made your legs shake. You wanted to experiment more of this. It felt like you were on a high.

Growing increasingly impatient, you pressed your heated core against his clothed arousal. He was hard and throbbing. You raised your hips, eager to remove his pants, leaving only his underwear and your shorts as barriers between you two. Rolling your hips against him, you began with a slow, deliberate pace, ensuring maximum pressure each time your body met his. The sensation was maddening so much so that you momentarily forgot about his mouth on your chest. You didn't know you were capable of making sounds of this sort. Feeling self-conscious about your voice, you rashly took his face in your hands and kissed him passionately while still bouncing onto him. His frustration at losing contact with your breasts was evident so you decided to distract him in your own way.

You let your hand glide down his abdomen, your fingers toying with the elastic band of his underwear. The smoothness of his body was a stark contrast to Patrick's. The absence of hair leading to his groin was disappointing. You then slipped your hand beneath the fabric and palmed his length. The boy squirmed beneath you upon contact. Aware of how porn could create unrealistic expectations, you braced yourself for disappointment. However, you were pleasantly surprised to find that Art's member was of a respectable size. This was an interesting new sensation. It didn't feel as smooth as you thought it would, you could feel texture due to the presence of veins and the stubble from his recent shaving. You ran your thumb across his circumcised head, coaxing a moan from his mouth. This part felt much smoother. You teasingly squeezed his balls before retracting your hand. It was your first time attempting such a move, but there was no need for him to be aware of that fact. After immersing yourself in porn for the past year, you felt confident in your ability to handle the situation. It was just jerking a guy off. You broke the kiss, spat into your hand, maintaining eye contact with Art, and with a teasing smirk, slid it back down into his shorts.

You gripped the base of his shaft with your hand and began to stroke it slowly, moistening it with your saliva. Meanwhile, his mouth returned to your breast, lavishing attention on your other nipple. You also felt his fingers teasing you through your shorts. You hated that you were wearing clothes, all you wanted right now was to feel his fingers in you. You sat on his hand, trying to feel him more. You gasped, your eyes fluttering as the overwhelming sensation washed over you. It was evident how wet you had become. You continued to grip his cock firmly. Honestly, you weren't sure what to do next, it felt like you were endlessly stroking him, and he was nowhere near climaxing. While you could tell he was enjoying it, you were eager for him to reach orgasm. Porn had made it seem so easy.

After some time, Art began delicately slipping his fingers beneath the hem of your shorts, exploring your moist entrance. The sensation sent waves of ecstasy through you as you clumsily stimulated him. His fingers pressed against your opening, the touch distinctly different from your own.

"I want you so much." He whispered into your ear, his fingers still toying with you. "Then take me now." You whimpered, unable to wait any longer.

"Condoms?" He asked as you shook your head. That had not crossed your mind. He rolled his eyes with a frustrated sigh, laying back on the bed, resting his hands back on your hips. You slided your hand out of his underwear and placed it on his chest. The loss of contact made him whine, frustrated. If it had been Patrick, you would have let him slam himself bare inside you but there was no way you would let another man fill you. There was always pulling out. You could tell by the way Art was looking at you that the idea crossed his mind and the question was burning his lips. But you were now, with thoughts of Patrick filling you up, totally turned off by Art, dry as sand. "I can blow you.. If you want."

In a hurried motion, you stripped off his underwear, discarding them entirely. You knelt beside him, your fingers trailing along his chiseled abs as you leaned in closer. His cock twitched beneath your touch, hardening even more under your gaze. Now, you could fully admire his body. While his shaft matched the rest of his skin tone, his tip boasted a subtle pink hue. Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, savoring every inch of his length. Your hands stroked his thighs eagerly while you continued to devour him hungrily. Your tongue darted in and out of his slit, tasting his salty sweetness as you relished every moan and whimper he made. With one hand on his balls, massaging them gently, you used the other to grip the base of his shaft firmly, pumping rhythmically as you blew him

His hands gripped your head tightly, guiding you deeper until you slightly gagged on his thickness, your nose buried in the stubble covering his lower abdomen. What a shame that he was so keen on getting rid of any kind of body hair. You wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around its sensitive ridge. Moans escaped from both your throats as you sucked harder, drawing out each groan as if it were music to your ears. You looked up at him in an attempt to stare into his eyes. You had heard that guys enjoyed eye contact during a blowjob but Art was struggling to keep his eyes open. You could gauge the impact of your actions from the way his stomach contracted and his legs trembled. It was a good sign, you didn't completely suck at this. Your jaw was starting to hurt like hell though and your mouth was filled with saliva. How much longer did he need?

"I'm about to..." He gasped. There was no chance you would allow that man's load to be shot down her throat. Quickly, you withdrew yourself and began manually stimulating him again. When he ejaculated, you didn't anticipate it to splatter everywhere as it did.

You crawled off him, grossed out by his fluids and grabbed a tissue from your bedside table, wiping your hand. While you were busy getting rid of the cum running down your wrist, Art seized the opportunity to pull down the hem of your shorts, exposing your buttocks. "What are you doing?" you asked, panic evident in your eyes. "Returning the favor." He replied, wearing a foolish grin. "You don't have to." You reassured him, tossing the tissue into the bin. "I want to." He insisted firmly. No one had ever gone down on you before, and the thought both excited and terrified you.

With hesitant movements, you flopped onto your back, sliding your shorts down your legs and kicking them off. Your heart was pounding in your chest as Art positioned himself between your legs.

He looked up at you for confirmation before lowering his head, his warm breath tickling your sensitive flesh. Your body twitched in anticipation as he placed a gentle kiss on your inner thigh.

Slowly, he traced a line of kisses up towards your core, teasingly avoiding the place that craved his attention the most. When he finally made contact with your folds, a gasp escaped from deep within your throat. His tongue glided over your clit in slow circles, applying just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

You arched your back and tangled your fingers in his hair as he continued to work his magic. His tongue dipped lower, giving your opening short and quick laps before returning to focus on your swollen clit.

The sensations were overwhelming. It felt like you were on fire. Art obviously had experience in this area. "Don't stop…" You moaned, your hips instinctively bucking against his mouth.

Art moved one of his hands to your cunt, sliding his index and middle finger into you as he continued to eat your bud with a hunger that matched your own. He replaced his lips with his thumb over your clit, massaging it as he sloppily nibbled on your labias. He raised his second hand to one of your breasts, groping it. Your hand quickly joined his on top of your breast, tightening his grip while your other hand tugged on the sheet.

You felt pressure in your lower body as your orgasm built up, threatening to crash over you at any moment. The pressure was becoming too much to handle. "F-fuck…" You moaned while trying to muffle the sound by biting into your arm.

With one final flick of his tongue, Art sent you over the edge. Your body convulsed as the waves of pleasure washed over you.

You had brought yourself to come countless times, but this was the first time someone else had given you an orgasm.

The post-nut conversation turned out to be less awkward than anticipated. Art revealed himself to be interesting when tennis wasn't the sole topic. Eventually, he checked his watch and rose from the bed. "He's waiting for me." He remarked as you watched him retrieve his crumpled clothes from the floor and dress up in hurry. You felt a bit abandoned but the fact that he did not invite you to come with him. You knew he was going to join Patrick at the court for a nighttime match. "See you later." You murmured, disappointed. He leaned in for a sloppy kiss that you broke after a few seconds, tasting yourself on his tongue. You briefly considered mentioning that your juices were spread all around his chin and cheek but you didn't. "For sure." He responded with a grin so wide that everyone could tell he just had some action and then left your room.

●

You were having lunch with your English literature classmates when you noticed Patrick leaving the cafeteria alone. Without hesitation, you stood up, excused yourself, and followed him outside. If he was going for a smoke, it was the perfect opportunity for a private moment. As you opened the exit door, you saw Art already there, sitting on a bench and chatting with Patrick. Fucking parasite. He smiled and waved at you as you approached and took a seat between the two. "Hey there." Patrick greeted you with a smirk, making your heart skip a beat. You glanced at Art, who was grinning from ear to ear. Of course, he had told Patrick. If fucking Art finally made Patrick see you in a different light, hell, you'd do it every day. "What are you guys doing?" You inquired, already aware of the situation. "Just chatting." Art responded, smoothly extending his arm behind you, his fingertips lightly brushing your spine. What was he trying to prove? "How was the game last night?" You asked, though you weren't particularly interested. "Fun. I'm sure Art enjoyed himself a lot." Patrick snickered as Art shot him a dirty look. You looked from one to the other before rolling your eyes. "I'm sure the game didn't go as well as he hoped. I heard he couldn't play the final set." You commented, taking a jab at Art. He looked at you in disbelief, while Patrick laughed at your remark. You nibbled at your lower lip, wondering if you had gone too far. But you didn't really care, you were the reason Patrick was laughing. Your heart was beating out of your chest. Art's gentle pinch on your back eased your racing heart. "Alright, I should head back to my table. You can get back to your gossip." Before you could stand up, Art caught hold of your arm. Leaning in close, he whispered in your ear. "Wanna hang out in my room tonight?" You shrugged. Did you really want to? Not particularly. But it was too late to back out now. Patrick would be grilling Art for details in the morning. His room, though? Tonight was definitely the night. He was so tactless that you wouldn't be surprised to find his bed littered with condoms. "Sure." You replied, then swiftly left the scene.

●

Art's room wasn't that different from what you had imagined. It was clean, with the bed made and the room smelled like deodorant. There were also more personal items : trophies, medails, posters and pictures. You looked closely at all the pictures of the wall. You didn't know the vast majority of those people although you could guess that some of them represented his parents due to the resemblance. There were many pictures of the Mark Rebellato academy players. You could even spot your brother in the background of one. But Patrick's face was present in every picture but one of them caught your attention. It was a recent picture of the two of them, plastered about the bed. Patrick had that side smirk that made your clit throb while Art was smiling with all his teeth.

As soon as you sat on the bed, Art joined you, sitting by your side. He smiled, gently brushing your hair away from your neck before kissing you passionately. It was clear you weren't there to chat. You tilted your head, giving him room to explore your neck, while you placed a hand on his thigh, giving it a slight squeeze. "Honestly, I thought I'd be greeted with you tossing condoms like confetti." You chuckled, your hand sliding up his thigh, nearing his crotch. "I kind of pictured you running to the store first thing in the morning." Art grinned at your comment, then leaned over to his bedside table, grabbed a handful of condoms, and playfully tossed them at your face. You threw a few back at him before pushing him onto the bed and straddling him. You lifted his shirt, exposing his bright pink nipples and hairless chest. "Did you go around telling everyone I gave you head?" You asked. Patrick wasn't just anyone, though. He shook his head. "I only mentioned it to Patrick... Sorry about that. And just so you know, he's also aware of the pussy-eating part." You shrugged as you unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper. "Patrick's fine, don't worry. But now you're going to have a reputation. Plenty of girls lining up at your door." You teased, tugging at his underwear to take a peek. "Let's hope they knock loud enough, we might not hear them tonight."

●

You watched, captivated, as Art smoothly rolled the latex onto his erection, his eyes never leaving yours. You couldn't back out, Art was on top of you, ready to enter you. It was official, Patrick wouldn't be the one deflowering you.

Finally, unable to contain yourself any longer after all that foreplay, you begged him to enter you. As Art penetrated you, the pressure was intense yet exhilarating. You gripped onto his shoulders tightly as you tried to adjust to his size. At that moment, you hoped that he couldn't tell you were a virgin. Art began to move within you, his thrusts slow but steady. Each time he sank further into your warmth, your senses heightened, your mind lost in the sensations coursing through your veins. You let out a breathy whine and bit into his shoulder, trying your best to not name the wrong man.

Soon, his rhythm quickened, becoming more urgent. But even as your body responded eagerly to his touches, your mind wandered back to Patrick's face, frozen in time in the picture on the wall. He pushed inside you, savoring the way your muscles clenched around his shaft. You moaned softly, arching your back and inviting him deeper.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy." You wrapped your arms around his neck, rolling your hips beneath him and melting into him completely. Despite Art being an attentive lover, you couldn't bring yourself to climax, your mind too cloudy with conflicting emotions. Finally, Art exploded in a series of shuddering spasms. He collapsed onto the mattress, spent and exhilarated. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, you let out a small groan before leaning into his embrace, feeling more confused than satisfied. Was this really what you wanted? There was tenderness here, gentleness. You wanted raw, unbridled passion, the kind that threatened to consume you whole.

"I came so hard." Art whispered soft words of praise into your ear. "Did you?" You felt a pinch of guilt stirring inside you once more, wondering whether you should confess your true feelings. But then, you remembered why you started sleeping with Art in the first place: to get closer to Patrick. And so, you forced a smile and assured Art that you had a good time. "Yes." You breathed, pulling him into a deep kiss to avoid dwelling on the question. Sex was enjoyable, but it didn't live up to the glamorous portrayal in the media. Perhaps it lacked satisfaction without emotional involvement. You attempted to push these thoughts aside as Art's fingers traced down your spine, sending shivers down your body. Yet, whenever he kissed your neck or whispered sweet nothings into your ear, your mind wandered back to that photo.

●

It only took a couple of weeks for Art to ask you to be his girlfriend. The reason for that decision was still a mystery to you. Because outside of sex, which had gotten so much better with time, you weren't really seeing each other. Maybe he felt obligated after using up your holes so much. Perhaps he had asked you because he was so busy with you that he didn't have time to meet other women?

You had no idea how long it had been since his last partner because that boy was always horny. You would spread your legs for him every day, sometimes meeting him twice a day. And when you weren't together, you would receive grainy pictures of his erect penis. One positive aspect of all the sexual activity was that now he could make you climax most of the time. But you still wondered how he would manage to find all that energy after tennis practice.

The officialization of your relationship had been pretty much uneventful. He had uttered the words as you laid in bed, your face nestled in his hairy pits, fully inhaling his scent. Sex being the only time you could savor Art's faint smell of sweat. "Should we be exclusive?" His choice of words amused you because you knew for sure that he wasn't fucking any other girl since you already had the talk about giving up condoms and getting on the pill. You had thought about your answer for a second. In your wildest fantasies, Patrick would have been your one and only but you said yes anyway because being with Art was as close as it was to being with Patrick.

No one knew Patrick like Art. And Art knew a lot. He would tell you about Patrick's history, his family's business, his tastes in music, his previous girlfriends whom he always found weird, or about his seeding position before each tournament he would take part in. You were told numerous tales of their childhood adventures. You barely remembered Patrick's appearance as a boy. These anecdotes predated your teenage infatuation with Patrick, yet you couldn't help but smile at the genuine love with which Art recounted his bond with his best friend. While some stories were cute, some would turn you in unspeakable ways, like when he told you about his first experience with masturbation. You couldn't help but imagine them stroking themselves in sync, Patrick instructing Art on which move to make and Art acting like a studious learner. You could tell you were completely wet at the thought, so much so that you had suggested recreating the scene, masturbating in front of each other.

"Why would I jerk off when I have you?" He was hesitant at first until you grabbed his hand and slid it down your panties. Your underwear was soaked with your juice. Of course, he tried to insert a digit into you but you tugged on his hand to remove it from your pants. His hand and fingers were now coated with your secretion. "Use me as lotion."

You were both lying side to side, on your backs, Your eyes were focused on Art's hand grasping his tip. "Does that feel good?" You breathed, locking your half-lidded eyes with his. He nodded, breaking the contact with you and staring at your hand between your legs. "Describe to me what you're doing…" You found his request hot. "It might sound weird but I actually prefer my legs crossed, it creates more sensation. And then it's all about clitoral stimulation." You explained with a whine. Your hand was furiously rubbing your clit. It wouldn't take long for you to climax, you had done it so much, you knew how your body worked. "What about you? What do you like to do when you're alone?" Art was fisting his cock at the pace as you were stroking yourself. "I love holding it very tight, when it's on the edge of hurting." He grunted, tightening his grip. "Come for me.." He continued to stroke himself, twisting his wrist to his tip. The head of his penis was red and throbbing. He moaned your name and released himself all over his stomach. "Fuck, you're so hot." You turned to him, your hand still between your legs, rolling your hips at a faster pace. Your eyes were now closed and you were biting your lower lip as you could feel your orgasm coming. You grabbed your clit and let out a low moan. Your breasts were lifting with each pants as you tried to catch your breath. "Was I better than Patrick?" He laughed and pulled you closer into a kiss.

●

Being Art's girlfriend, the clean-cut and sweet guy, could have been worse. He would take care of you, speak highly of you, always make sure to include you in every activity he was a part of. You enjoyed his company but it was clear that you didn't love Art. Instead, you found yourself drawn to the fact that Patrick loved him.

Dating Art came with another perk : you always knew in advance when Patrick would come visit. And each time you would ensure to fulfill Art's every fantasy beforehand. The kinkiest, the better, as you knew Patrick would be the first informed. And if Patrick knew you were willing to do all those degrading things, he would undoubtedly reconsider his relationship with Tashi.

The only issue was that Art's kinkiest fantasies were still quite vanilla, nothing noteworthy. From riding him to doggy style to 69ing, there wasn't anything that really excited you. You had succeeded in broadening his horizons, but you were always the one taking the lead. You had to guide his hands to encircle your neck and coax him to tighten his grip. Most of the time, he was so gentle that you could still breathe normally. As for public sex, that option didn't even cross his mind until you had massaged his dick through his pants in so many rooms of the university that he was unable to hold back anymore and screw you against a wall behind the main building. You also had to suggest to let you ride his face. It didn't take much convincing for him to say yes. If that man was a thing, he was a pussy eater. But as always you always wanted to take things further and one night after he had released himself in you, you sat on his face and let his own cum drop down his mouth and commanded him to swallow it, which he did. He was lapping your slit like a thirsty man, scooping his seeds out of you with his tongue. He had enjoyed every moment of it, but you were confident that he never shared the story with Patrick. And if anyone asked, he would likely act as if it had never happened. You could tell by the way he would shush you everytime you would call him your little cumslut. His shame was so enticing that you would occasionally spit his semen back into his mouth after blowing him. Watching him swallow his own load was the hottest thing.

There also was a time when you practically had to beg him to fuck you in the ass. He was uncertain about whether he would enjoy it, but you were confident he would love it even more than you did. You reassured him that he could stop at any moment if he felt uncomfortable, and with that assurance, he agreed to try. Ever the considerate and attentive boyfriend, Art had spent days researching online how to do it safely. Knowing this made you tempted to sneak onto his computer and check his search history to find out what kind of anal sex content he had looked up. After an hour of prepping you with lube and his fingers, which had removed parts of the fun, you were stretched out and he was ready. You were ready too, but deep down, you knew you didn't need all that preparation to begin with, you just wanted him to spread you open. You grabbed the headboard, holding yourself as you arched your back when he shoved himself into you from behind. You didn't feel any kind of discomfort, you mostly felt… full. Your ass wasn't as sensitive as your cunt, the feeling was entirely different. "Move already, you asshole." You snapped at him before he grabbed you by the hips, lifting them and violently slammed himself deep into your core. Right in front of you was the picture of the two boys you were constantly looking at. You were starting to really enjoy it, staring at Patrick in the eyes while Art was pounding into you. "Touch me." You pleaded, grabbing one of his hands resting on your hips and placing it over your pussy. When he finally started spreading your folds and stroking your sensitive clit, you let out a growl. You were now bouncing back on his cock, rocking your ass against his hips as his fingers roamed their way to your opening, adding his middle finger. You whined, frustrated by his action. You didn't need his fingers in you, you needed the on your clit, abusing it. You grabbed his hand again and pressed it as hard as you could against your crotch. You were practically humping his hand at this point trying to create some friction against your bud. "You're such a horny slut." He was talking to you but all you could hear was his high cry when you would clench your anus and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. You could feel him grow tenser in you, he was close to coming. "Pinch my clit, I beg you." You groaned as you could feel your climax build up. He acquiesced and grabbed your button forcefully, pinching it until you could feel your blood circulation being cut off. "P-..Art!" You cried out as you exploded. You felt him spurt his thick load into you. It had to be one of the best sex you ever had with him. Not having to watch Art's face as he climaxed was also a big plus. You despised it so much as it reminded you of the obvious fact that it was not Patrick. As you laid afterwards, tangled in sheets and limbs, you couldn't help but marvel at just how far you had come since meeting.

●

You were running low on ideas to spice things up, but your friendship with Tashi proved to be a valuable resource. Over the course of a month, your bond with Tashi had deepened. Despite not having much in common, and secretly hating her, you clicked well together. Additionally, you often joked about the unique situation of your respective boyfriends being boyfriends together, which led to a secret nickname between you: ‘The other women’. Having someone you could rely on was comforting, and Tashi felt the same. Being in a relationship with her boyfriend's best friend made you her confidante, and she would often confide in you, even though it was sometimes difficult to listen. Despite this, you couldn't resist the urge to learn every detail about her relationship with Patrick.

It had become a weekly ritual after a significant match: you and Tashi would retreat to her room, crack open a few beers, share a joint, and exchange amusing stories.

On one particular evening, fueled by a bit too much alcohol, you both felt mischievous. "Shotgun?" you suggested, and Tashi nodded, a smile playing on her lips. Taking a drag, you gently held her face and leaned in, exhaling the smoke into her mouth. Curious to understand the sensation Patrick experienced every time he kissed Tashi, you closed the gap between you and initiated a soft kiss. It was an innocent moment, devoid of sloppiness, yet kissing Tashi proved to be exhilarating. As you both pulled away, laughter bubbled up from within, leaving you both in fits of giggles. "Look at us, we could be girlfriends too!" Tashi suggested, her hands resting on her hips.

The notion wasn't as off-putting as you initially imagined. Tashi was undeniably attractive. If Patrick proposed a threesome, you wouldn't hesitate for long. You might not be experienced in eating a woman out, but you were willing to learn. After all, you had no knowledge of sucking dicks just a few months ago.

●

When Tashi was tipsy, she became so chatty it was difficult to stop her. But there was one specific topic she couldn't seem to stop talking about: Patrick.

She would complain about how he would never shut the fuck up during sex. And how he was constantly talking dirty to her, no matter the time and place. How was that a problem? Patrick could whisper his shopping list into your ear and you would come on the spot. Or the way he was always demanding blowjobs, even in the most random places. Was she aware that you would blow him on the tennis court in front of the audience if he would ask? She almost killed you on the spot when she mentioned how he liked coming on her breasts but she hated it. What a spoiled brat. You would let him completely cover you with cum without even thinking twice. You would even ask for more. His enormous uncircumcised dick bumping into her cervix and making her feel uncomfortable for days was apparently an issue too. It only sounded like the most heavenly way to die to you. Or when he would try to slide it into her ass which she refused to do. What a cunt.

You took a mental note to check all those boxes with Art so he could brag to his friend, like boys usually do, and make Patrick die of jealousy. "What about Art?" What about him? You thought about it for a second. You didn't have much to say about Art but maybe if you praised the quality he possessed that Patrick didn't, it would intrigue Tashi into experiencing it. "He's very attentive to my needs if you know what I mean." You held your index and middle finger up in a V and flicked your tongue between them which made Tashi snort. "Maybe that's cheesy but he's the best sex I've ever had." Only sex you ever had, but she didn't know that. You knew exactly what would pique the ever-demanding and controlling Tashi Duncan's interest. Leaning closer, almost whispering as if sharing a secret, you said, "He's a bit of a sub. Quite a strap fanatic." That was a lie. Once, you had suggested fingering his ass while blowing him, and he freaked out, insisting he wasn't gay, which led to a snort from you and an ensuing argument.

"Really?! Now that you mention it, he does give off that vibe." Tashi responded. Ah! Take that, Art. "Have you ever..." You mimicked a thrust. "...with Patrick?" She shook her head, slightly pouting. "No. Wouldn't it be weird if I refused to give him my ass but asked him to give me his?" You took a sip of your drink and shrugged. "I don't think it's weird, when you love someone, you are willing to do everything to make them happy." Of course that comment was targeted to her as well, planting the seed in her brain that she might not love him as much as you 'loved' Art.

To be truthful you actually knew even more than Tashi suspected about her intimate life. Every time Patrick would visit, you would sneak at night just to listen to them through her dorm's room like that first time. Except now, you had your hands down your panties massaging your swollen clit. It was even more exciting to think that someone might surprise you in the corridor. You had become intimately familiar with the sound of his balls slapping against Tashi's ass, his loud moans, how long he lasted, and the noises he made when he came. Sometimes, you would finger yourself to climax in sync with him. Afterwards, you would slip into Art's room and have sex with him without offering any explanation. Often, you would mimic the exact actions you had heard through the door, your eyes still fixed on the picture of Patrick on the wall.

●

You waited until dinner time to ensure no one would be in Tashi's room. Sneaking in and going through her things wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision, you had been planning it for weeks. You had tried a few times before, but the door was always locked. Today, however, you grabbed the handle and pushed, and to your luck, the door opened. You stepped inside and quickly closed the door behind you.

Her room was unusually messy, a stark contrast to her typical tidiness. The disorder could only be attributed to Patrick's presence. His bag was tossed in the middle of the room, with his shoes and clothes strewn across the floor. You started rummaging through Patrick's things.You weren't entirely sure what you were searching for.

One of the first things you noticed was one of his rackets. Though completely worn out, you admired the shaft, noting how Patrick's sweaty hands had eroded the handle. The blue grip tape had turned brownish and frayed. Lifting the racket to your mouth, you kissed the handle, tasting the saltiness. Your mind wandered back to countless hours watching Patrick dominate opponents on court, sweat pouring down his face as he hit each ball with precision and skill. You pictured his toned arms flexing as he swung the racket, sending the ball hurtling towards his opponent. But tonight, the racket would serve a different purpose. A crazy idea had crossed your mind. If you couldn't touch Patrick, you could let Patrick touch you.

You slipped off your underwear, exposing your bare cunt beneath your dress. Sitting on the edge of Tashi's bed, you spread your legs wide open. Guiding Patrick's racket between your thighs, you closed your eyes and let out a moan, pressing yourself against its handle. As your body responded to the sensations, you gripped the racket tighter, drawing yourself closer to ecstasy with each stroke. You maintained the rhythm of thrusting the handle into your pussy while simultaneously rubbing your clit with the same pace. The intensity built with each thrust until finally, you cried out in a hushed moan, overwhelmed by pleasure.

You didn't take time to catch your breath as you had to be quick before any of them returned. Carefully, you pulled the handle from your folds and placed the racket back into his bag, relishing the thought of his hands covered in your dried juices during his next match. You pulled your panties back on. Now onto your next treasure.

Patrick hadn't packed many clothes, so stealing one of his shirts would be too obvious. Instead, you rummaged through his belongings and settled on an old, worn pair of socks. Bringing them to your nose, the initial whiff was pungent and overwhelming, yet strangely captivating. As you buried your face in the fabric, the scent became a heady mix of musk and earth. He smelled divine. Unable to resist, you discreetly tucked one of the dirty socks into your bra before quickly leaving the room with your treasures.

On your way out, you spotted Tashi's pink gym shorts, the ones she had been wearing earlier before her encounter with Patrick. Upon closer examination, you noticed an obvious wet spot on the front of the shorts. Whether it was Tashi's or Patrick's doing, you didn't care. Without hesitation, you grabbed the shorts and exited the room for good this time.

When you got back to your room, you couldn't wait to begin exploring those newfound objects of desire. You couldn't help but smile at your mischiefs.

The sock was perhaps your most prized possession. It carried the scent of Patric, Patrick after practice. You inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma before biting into the fabric, sucking on the spot where Patrick's toes had been earlier. You knew you were acting irrationally, but you couldn't resist. You were addicted to his scent, his taste, to him.

Next up was Tashi's shorts. You longed to mix your own wetness with Tashi's juices. However, when you attempted to put on the shorts, they wouldn't budge past the middle of your thighs. In that moment, you felt larger than ever before. Was this the type of woman Patrick desired? Reflecting on it, Tashi had a lean, sculpted body. Quite the opposite of yours. You tried to suck in your stomach, attempting to force the shorts over your hips, but to no avail. You had to confront the truth: you felt enormous. Perhaps your mother was right? It was time to start watching your diet. If you hoped to capture Patrick's attention, you had to become worthy of it.

You swiftly hid the items in a suitcase under your bed and decided to get to work immediately.

●

Youtube was a never ending source of working out videos. Every morning you had a routine of pilates and running around the block. While at first it had been hard to move your body so much while continuing to have enough energy to satisfy Art's needs, you were now used to the challenge. You were also following a strict diet. While the app you had downloaded suggested a 1200 calories a day diet, you were now down to 500 calories a day.

As you entered the cafeteria, you scanned the crowd for them. The trio had secured a spot near the window, leaving room for you. You settled in, placing your soda and an apple on the table. Greeting them, you cracked open your diet coke. "Hey you." You placed a quick peck on Art's cheek. "Your highness." You waved at Tashi "Patrick." You nodded your head in his direction "Hey. Well fuck, you okay?" You raised the can to your lips and glanced up at him, puzzled. Was his question directed at you? His gaze seemed fixed on you, leaving you uncertain. Was he concerned about you? You flashed your brightest smile and nodded. How could you not be okay now that you knew he cared? He raised an eyebrow and went on about his tour. He wasn't doing too well, and Tashi was giving him a hard time about it. However, he seemed to enjoy himself otherwise, sharing stories of parties and sightseeing in numerous cities. The boys were chatting energetically while both you and Tashi remained silent, only listening. It felt as if you didn't exist anymore. They had so much to discuss and were planning to stroll by the courts. You were jolted back to reality when you felt Art's soft lips against your nape. "See you later. Your dorm?" Art gave you a familiar look, the same one he always gave before asking for a blowjob. How amusing it was that nothing seemed to make both of you hornier than Patrick's visits. Patrick planted a gentle kiss on Tashi's lips. You already felt nauseous but now there was no way you were going to touch that apple. It pained you to see how your misery deepened as the months went by and Tashi and Patrick's relationship flourished. You knew this love was slowly killing you physically and mentally. The boys left the table, waving goodbye.

Wrapping his arm around Art's neck, Patrick put him in a headlock and guided him out of the room. You could still hear their voices. "Your girlfriend looks..." Was Patrick referring to you? Art's glance back at you confirmed it. What was he talking about?

As you refocused on your meal, you noticed Tashi sitting across from you, lost in her own thoughts. "Can I trust you with something?" You nodded in response. "This conversation stays between us." Despite Tashi being the primary obstacle to your happiness, she was now your only confidante, with Art no longer filling that role as he was way too busy filling something else. "Did Art mention another girl Patrick was seeing while on tour?" Another girl? Oh no, you could feel the anger growing in you. Was he seeing someone else? Tashi was one thing, but another bitch? You were RIGHT THERE, ready for him to fuck you into oblivion, why would he need another girl? "No, I never heard anything about that. Why do you ask?" She toyed with her food, clearly uncertain of how to proceed. "Art said Patrick is not in love with me." You couldn't believe your ears. Art had grown balls and was going on the offensive. Leaning back in your chair, you narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms. "Uh. Did he?" Your mind raced to devise a strategy that would benefit you. "Do you think Patrick told him that?" You asked, trying to gauge the situation. "I don't know... I can't think of any other reason why Art would tell me that." She responded. Oh, you could think of plenty of reasons. "I swear those two are just waiting to drop our asses and just buttfuck each other." You sighed, trying to lighten the mood. Her lips twitched into a small smile."If you want my advice. You should talk to him. Like, it's ok to not be in love so early in a relationship, but it's not when there's a difference in intensity of feelings."

You hugged Tashi, gently rubbing her back and lightly tickling her with your fingertips. The heady scent of her shampoo and perfume filled your senses. You didn't want Patrick to love her, but at the same time, any guy who wasn't madly in love with her was an idiot. "Good luck tomorrow, champion. I'll be there to cheer for you." She thanked you as you left the cafeteria, abandoning your apple and can.

You walked back to your room, you had a lot to process. Art's scheming had added a new layer to your plan. Even if you benefited from Tashi and Patrick breaking up, would Art become a rival? What was his endgame? Did he want Tashi or Patrick?

You sat on your bed, still consumed by the fact that you had overheard Patrick mention you. Even though you had no idea what he had said, the thought filled you with joy. You longed to hear him say your name, to talk to you, touch you, kiss you, and more. Leaning over, you pulled out the suitcase hidden underneath the bed. Opening your treasure chest, you took out the sock and pressed it to your nose, savoring the fading scent. Your reverie was abruptly interrupted by Art's energetic knock on the door. Quickly, you hid the sock back in the suitcase and shoved it under the bed. You opened the door, and Art immediately jumped on you, smothering your face with wet kisses. "Art!" You whined, kicking the door shut.

●

Exhausted and breathless, you both lay intertwined, Art resting on top of you, his full weight pressing down, as you wrapped one leg around his hip. Cuddling you while still being inside you was one of his favorite things, which you found deeply bothersome. "Patrick said something earlier and I didn't really notice until now since I see you everyday but…" You looked at him curiously, excitement in your voice. "Patrick talked about me?" You could feel yourself getting in the mood again, the fire between your legs burning. This was so much more exciting than anything that had happened earlier. You slightly rolled your hips under him, trying to create some friction against your clit. He gazed at you, nibbling on his lower lip. That look made you wonder if he was now assured of the impact Patrick had on you. You hadn't been subtle about that one. "Yeah.. He said you have gotten really thin." So Patrick had noticed? This confirmed your suspicion, his type really was svelte girls, how shallow of him. You didn't care how bad that made him look though, you were a few steps closer to his type. You clenched around Art's length trying to get him to move as he went on about what Patrick had to say about you. But he didn't, he only huffed and kissed your neck.

You still had a long way to go to be perfect for Patrick. Tashi's shorts fitted you now but they were still quite snug around the thighs. "I want to get healthier. A couple of months ago, I was having a sleepover with Tashi and she gave me one of her pajamas. It was so tight, I could barely breathe. I realized how I had let myself go." You confessed wrapping your other leg around him, and grabbing his asscheeks in an effort to feel him deeper into you. If he wasn't going to relieve you, you knew what could get that little conniving bastard to. "Tashi always wears the best outfits. Wouldn't it be fun if we could lend each other clothes? I'd die to be able to fit into one of her tennis skirts." You knew that put ideas in his mind. In fact, you could feel himself growing hard again inside of you. "Just don't overdo it." He mumbled, his face in the crook of your neck. "Maybe I should get into tennis? I want a body like Tashi's. Her thighs are so firm and tanned." You rolled your hips once more under him to get him to start pounding into you. "Have you noticed how her breasts stand on their own? She doesn't even need a bra. She told me she doesn't even own any." Finally some movement. You let out a sigh of relief while he was biting into your shoulder. You had done it so many times before that you knew for a fact that he was trying his hardest to not pronounce the wrong name. "Have you seen how firm her ass is too? No wonder Patrick likes her so much." It broke your heart to say it out loud but you needed to bring Patrick back on the table. Art wasn't the only one who could get his little fun. "They make a hot couple though. He's gorgeous too." He was now aggressively thrusting, deeply buried into you. "His thighs.." You moaned, back arched under him.

You were aware that his mind was filled with images of Tashi while he was ball deep in you. Or perhaps it was images of Tashi and Patrick. Who even knew at this point? Watching his eyes roll back, highly responsive to your words, you felt compelled to propose something to him to add excitement, an idea that had been on your mind for months.

It would start with you being Tashi. Wearing one of her tiny tennis outfits, the kind that showed the underside of her ass everytime the wind blew. Pretending to train him to be a champion, calling a little bitch and insulting him at every mistake of his. You would make him overwork himself just to get a praise from you and even when he would do it, you would just command him to worship your cunt. When he would beg for a release, you would just let him jerk off while watching you play with your cunt.

And he could be Patrick. Even if you doubted Art had it in him. He would treat you like the little whore that you are. Making you gag on his gross sweaty cock right after practice. Wrapping his hands around your throat, while ramming into you. You would let him abuse every single one of your holes while reminding you how you're nothing to him and nothing without him. And even when he would be asking you to ride him, not willing to put any effort into fucking such a used-up whore, he would still be… dominating you.

Thinking about it, their relationship dynamic did not make sense. Was it a constant fight for dominance? Perhaps you had misjudged Tashi? But you couldn't be mistaken about Patrick, you knew him better than anyone else.

But you had too much on the line to make such a request anyway. In theory, he could only love the idea, but in fact? He was a coward who refused to see the truth. Would he call you a freak and put distance between you? And distance between you and him meant distance between you and Patrick. You couldn't risk that.

It didn't take long for you to climax, as you were already sensitive from the first round. Just a few precisely angled thrusts and Art's skilled fingers on your clit did the trick. You had to admit that Art had gotten better at pleasing you, you didn't have to fake it as much anymore. But it was also pretty easy when Patrick was occupying your mind. Art came a moment later with a low grunt. After a brief pause, he withdrew and rolled onto his back.

Your conversation with Tashi kept replaying in your mind. She appeared so insecure at that moment. How could she doubt Patrick's affection when he only had eyes for her? You were the best person to testify to that, as you counted the moments he glanced your way. Art had truly succeeded in toying with that poor girl's mind. Hold on a second. Were you feeling sorry for the woman who possessed everything you desired?

Art was now affectionately nuzzling your neck, planting gentle kisses behind your ear. Yet, his actions repulsed you more than it usually did. Were you angry at him because he had begun plotting to seduce another woman, or was it because he had taken a step forward in the race while you remained stagnant with Patrick? The scenario where he would begin dating Tashi, leaving you without him, Tashi and Patrick was now likely You found yourself in a position of weakness, a clear indication of the chaos in your relationship. You had shamelessly used him for months, but now that he was the one with the upper hand, that was unacceptable. It was time to call it quits. Art wasn't the one for you anyway. You were meant to be with Patrick. And Art was meant to be with Tashi or whoever else he pleased, you didn't really care anymore.

●

The next day, Tashi Duncan was playing against Maria Foster from Pepperdine.

Patrick's visit that week revolved around the match, and tonight marked his departure. It would be months before another opportunity. Although you hadn't yet ended things with Art, your plan was to do so after the match. There wasn't any certainty that things would progress your way after that but you needed him off your back. One idea you had was simply offering yourself to Patrick.

Showing him how much of a good girl you could be for him. His needy whore, little play toy. Dropping to your knees, your face buried in his balls, inhaling the exquisite musky scent of his sweat like an addict. You would then gobble on them like a starved woman. His hard sack felt warm and well-filled against your lips, it would take everything in you to not bite into them. You would then trail your wet tongue along his shaft following the pattern of his veins up to his head. Seeing his dick would be the well-deserved reward for all those years of longing. Without hesitating a second, you would pull his foreskin back, exposing his head and flick your tongue against it, paying extra attention to his slit, almost dipping your tongue into it wanting to taste every single drop of precum you could find. That cum was yours, it had always been yours. Wrapping your lips around the head, you would twirl your tongue around, tasting him fully for the first time before hollowing cheek, sucking him as hard as you could. You would probably slobber all over his length and he would love it, you were sure of it. With your head bobbing frantically, you would look like a maniac. You wouldn't even give yourself time to warm up before taking him whole in your mouth. The pain that would come with his crown hitting the back of your stiff throat was the most intoxicating part. Throating him desperately like the future of your relationship would depend on the quality of that blowjob. You would let him use your mouth like a fleshlight, fucking it aggressively, your nose crushing against the messy wet curls of above his cock. You would love the feeling of his strong hands pulling your head closer to buckle his hips into your mouth, his fingers pulling on your hair with force. Being able to breath would be the least of your worries as choking to death on his cock would be an honor. You would keep him in your mouth for hours, no matter how much your jaw hurt. But then your favorite part would come when he would. Swallowing his cum had always been one of your dreams but you wanted him all over you. You would pull away and stick your tongue out for him, drool running down your chin and clothes. Begging him to shoot his cum all over your face and tits, the same way Tashi refused to do. You wouldn't even bother to wipe his semen off, wearing it with pride, like a trophy, in Stanford's halls. But that was just an idea, of course.

In the worst-case scenario where you would be facing rejection, you planned to use Tashi's doubts about his loyalty as a justification. And like the exceptional friend that you are, you wanted to ensure he was worthy of your friend. You would both laugh it off and move on.

But before that, you were stuck with Art, who was acting distant. You could feel something had shifted last night. You were both aware of each other's plans and everything felt forced. You and Art had agreed to attend to support Tashi, as good friends should. Or at least, that was Art's justification. For you, it was obviously because you wanted to fuck her boyfriend. That very same boyfriend who soon would be sitting on the empty seat beside you.

"Where's Patrick?" You asked, disappointed by his absence. The game was about to start, Tashi was entering the court and Patrick was nowhere to be seen. Art was typing on his phone. "Seems like they had a fight." Art shrugged and rolled his eyes, like their altercation was something predictable. You could tell he had something to do with it. A fight? You couldn't help the smile on your face. That surely helped your case.

The game reached an intensity you hadn't witnessed before, with Tashi displaying an unprecedented determination to win. The ball darted from one end of the court to the other so swiftly that it was challenging to track. Tashi's backhands grew progressively stronger with each strike, her focus unwavering as she moved with agility. Suddenly, Maria Foster's throw forced Tashi to sprint across the court. In the midst of her movement, her knee gave out, causing her to stumble and fall.

With a scream, Tashi collapsed to the floor. Art sprang to his feet immediately, naturally the first to rush to Tashi's side. Could you blame him? If it were Patrick lying there in pain, you'd likely be by his side, holding his hand.

Without much of a choice, you had followed both of them to the infirmary. Waiting in the corridor for the ambulance to arrive was the best alternative to not witness their sickening intimate moment. Art had won the game. You also wanted to be available in case one of them would ask you to call Patrick. That way you would finally get a hold of his number.

But without a call, he showed up. There he was, finally, panting, his brown curls slightly disheveled, and his shirt clinging to his damp skin. Your smile faded into a frown as you noticed Tashi's shirt adorning his back, another indication of her ownership over him.

"Patrick, get the fuck out!" Art's raised voice startled you. Why was Art screaming at him? You didn't know the circumstances of the fight, but you could fathom Tashi being mad at Patrick. But Art siding with her and not his best friend? Was his friendship with Patrick just an excuse to get closer to Tashi all along? You would have never guessed how alike you and Art were.

Patrick walked out with red eyes and a visible lump in his throat, leaving the campus in a rush without a glance in your direction. That had been the last time you ever saw him.

●

Despite the weeks that slipped by, you couldn't help but cling to the hope that he might appear. That Tashi and him would somehow make up, that he and Art had maintained a friendship but no. Each morning you believed that today would be the day you would see his gorgeous face, only to have your hopes crushed by his absence. The disappointment became a part of your routine.

Art had left you for Tashi, using her recovery as an excuse. Although he never had the decency to formally end things with you, it was clear he no longer wanted to be around you. Every single free hour of his day would be devoted to training with Tashi or keeping her company during her physiotherapy. Sure, he would still smile at you from across the hall or kiss your cheek hello and goodbye when he would bump into you at the cafeteria. But there were no more texting or late-night visits to your room to release his built-up frustration.

It didn't make sense, Patrick was out of the way, it was the perfect time to make a move on Tashi. He just didn't. It was not like you were an obstacle either, if he really wanted you gone, he only had to say it. But maybe he wanted Tashi to believe he was still taken and harmless, just a friend without ulterior motives, a good guy helping her out of the kindness of his heart? How noble of him. It made you gag.

She wasn't any better than him. Tashi was avoiding you as well, likely feeling too guilty about her growing affection for your boyfriend to face you. Not that it mattered anyway. Patrick was gone. Forever. And it was all their fault. You hated them for it.

●

Stanford seemed rather dull now. You had spent months with them and had barely made any friends outside of Tashi and Art. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were all spent alone from now on. At least the weight of your courses and the ever-growing pile of homework kept your mind busy. As for Patrick Zweig, he only crossed your mind from time to time at night when you would rub yourself to sleep. You had almost accepted the fact that you would probably never see him again. As you opened your laptop to begin typing your overdue essay, a notification on your Facebook wall caught your eye.

Patrick Zweig accepted your friend request.

You can find part two here.

♠♣♥♦

Tagging : @starrgurl46 @egcdeath @izzywags478

Thank you everyone for taking time to read my stuff. If you have any criticism, please feel free to send a message. I'm trying to improve my writing.

See you next time!

#challengers fanfic #challengers fanfiction #patrick zweig #art donaldson #tashi duncan #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson x reader #challengers #challengers smut #challengers 🎾#the main character is unhinged i'm sorry #should i write more stuff?#writing in americanised english was a STRUGGLE #i'm sorry this is so long i was having a mental breakdown #fic : silent devotion

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cupidsarrcws · 22 days ago

Note

thinking about art and model!reader running into patrick at an event they were all invited to and of course patrick being patrick openly flirts with reader in front of art idk ...

i imagine that this would happen before art and you started dating but are still hooking up.

it’s an after party and patrick drags art through the crowd and before art can realize, he’s standing right in front you. which is kind of awkward seeing as he had you bent over in your dressing room you 8 hours ago.

your face flushes up and you attempt to introduce yourself but stutter over your words. patrick smirks and sticks his hand out. “hi, im patrick, and im assuming you already know art-“ he says, patting his friends back, causing him to choke on his drink.

“relax artie, you’ve two talked at these after parties right? i mean, you’re too beautiful to be standing here all alone. you got a boyfriend?”

you gulp softly before clearing your throat. “n-no! no boyfriend.. just me—“ you look over at art who’s nervously sipping on his beer.

“oh? then you wouldn’t mind if i asked for your number then?” he asked, gently grabbing your hand and admiring the jewelry on your hands. your face flushes up and arts jaw clenches, watching as you hesitantly grab patrick’s phone and add your number into his contact list.

“alright, i think you’ve had enough fun for the night patrick.” patrick tried opening his mouth but art was already dragging him by the arm out of the club, leaving you standing there.

a few minutes pass by and you feel your phone buzz, your heartbeat speeding up as the name ‘art 🎾’ pops up on your screen. you open his text and gulp, your face heating up and your thighs clenching together as you read the words.

‘i’m coming over tonight, unless you’d rather have patrick help satisfy your needs.’

(i don’t wanna write anymore cause now i’m thinking i need to make this a full fic… 😋😋)

#izzywrites!#ask #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x model!reader #challengers #art donaldson x reader

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igotlovestruck · 1 year ago

Text

right where you left lover girl [ charles leclerc , ben chilwell ]

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — charles leclerc x singer!ex!reader ; ben chilwell x singer!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °. *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — mostly angst, some romance . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °. *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ clearing my drafts again 😵‍💫 if you ask me, i’m obsessed with singer!reader fics lol

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

cleclercsource

26,929 likes

cleclercsource double date in wimbledon 🎾 charles, alex, kika and pierre spotted in today’s game!

view all 2,719 comments

user alex looks so pretty and i know she’s nice because i met her once, but i miss y/n ☹️

user :(( i do too, but it’s just not meant to be. they both want different things and are in different places in the relationship

user damn why did THAT hurt

user no offense/hate towards alex but the fact that y/n and charles have been together since they were thirteen just...pains me and i’m not even part of their relationship

user me too!! 😭 they literally went through ups and downs together and saw their careers go big :(

user yeah but i hate to break it to you guys but it’s been two years since they broke up and charles being in a new relationship is okay, they’re both adults! i mean, you guys know that eventually they’ll meet somebody, no?

user what pains me the most is that y/n hasn’t released anything since she and charles broke hp 😣💔 i miss my girl

user they look like mean girls

user i would be scared to walk past them

user love how alex is just happy to be there hahaha she’s so cute

yourusername

liked by yourlabel, sabrinacarpenter, selenagomez and 3,286,048 others

yourusername oh hi hello 👋🏻 i know it’s been a while since i’ve last released music and contributed to the industry, and i see everyone’s tweets saying how much they miss me and guess what? i missed you guys too, so here’s a little something for being so patient with me🤎 this song is very personal and important to me and i hope you’ll love it just how i loved writing it. right where you left me is now available to all streaming platforms 🎶

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sabrinacarpenter 🫶 masterpiece

selenagomez proud of you✨😍

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prodbymika

250,297 likes

prodbymika glad to have produced another song and film a music video with my bestie 🫶 here’s some behind the scenes of y/n during recording and filming the music video of right where you left me <3

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yourusername mika my love!!! ☹️🤎 thank youu couldn’t have done it without youuuu 🫶

user wait that place on the 3rd photo is familiar

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user omfg that’s probably why it’s titled right where you left me 😭

user the 😭 restaurant 😭 she 😭 and 😭 charles 😭 loved 😭

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user y/n wearing the same clothes she would wear during date nights with charles 💔☹️

yourprivate

yourprivate i know eventually it will lead to one of us meeting someone new. i hope she’ll love you the way that i did, more than how i loved you, charles. and i can’t believe that it’s been two years since we broke up. in my mind i’m still 23, living in my own delusion that one day you’ll come back to me. i loved you, charles_leclerc. and i still do. i really meant it when i said i wish you both the best. now, it’s time for me to move on and leave the place where you left me.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ─────────────────

yourusername

1,926,472 likes

yourusername me doing big girl things 😄 bye bye monaco 🇲🇨, hello london 🇬🇧 ready to make new memories, new songs and of course, new apartment tour video soon :p

view all 1,827 comments

user omggggggg the chances of me running to you are HIGHHHHH

yourusername see you aroundddd <3

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user no bc imagine the adjustment!! she lived there even when she and charles broke up :(

user my girl can finally FINALLY breathe

benchilwell

liked by masonmount, reecejames, judebellingham and others

benchilwell you’re my, my, my, my lover 🩷

view all 23,816 comments

jackgrealish mate, that’s so cheesy 😂

reecejames i know something you don’t 🤧

masonmount i know something you will never know 😂

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yourusername

liked by cmpulisic, reecejames, masonmount, benchilwell and others

yourusername guys meet my london boy 🩷

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benchilwell i told you not to post that picture of me

yourusername 😵‍💫 but you looked so cute and you helped me compose a song

masonmount he did? 😨

yourusername took us a while, but yep 🫡

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— ❤️ by yourusername

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yourusername don’t worry, i bought chinese the other day. he’s no longer chinese food virgin. i took his virginity.

benchilwell y/n y/l/n.

yourusername 😚 you liked it though

benchilwell okay fine yeah

user why do i feel like a new album will come out ...

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, benchilwell, prodbymika and 4,836,917 others

yourusername suprise (well... not so surprise haha) !! been working on this album the past year and it’s finally here and i can’t wait to share it with you guys so HERE YA GO 🩷😚 the whole album is dedicated to, of course, my lover, my benji, benchilwell i love youuuu and this album is my love letter to you (you spoiled the lyrics on your previous post 🙄 but its ok i forgive u now pls come back faster bc i miss u) enjoy everyone ! lover girl, y/n 🩷✨

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benchilwell i love you angel 🩷

yourusername stopp im shy i miss you

benchilwell 😂 im coming over

user y/n in her lover era 🥹 happy for her, she deserves this!

user she really does 🥹

user STOPPP THIS WJOLE ALBUM IS JUST Y/N AND BEN BEING IN LOVENWITH EACH OTHER

user “all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing” BENJAMIN JAMES CHILWELL YOU ONE LUCKY MF

user y/n is SO in love i’m here for it

charles_leclerc congratulations on another amazing album, y/n!

yourusername thank you charles! 🫶

user HEY WHAT IS MR. RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME DOING HERE

user ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

yourusername we’re still friends guys, chill 😂

sabrinacarpenter YOU ARE AMAZING, Y/N

yourusername SAAAABBBB i love you ,, you are amazing

user from right where you left me to paper rings 🥺 THE GLOW UP

#charles leclerc imagine #ben chilwell imagine #charles leclerc angst #ben chilwell fluff #charles leclerc instagram au #ben chilwell instagram au #f1 imagine #football imagine #f1 fan fic #football fanfic #f1 x you #football x you #f1 x reader #football x reader #formula 1 imagine #football instagram au #f1 instagram au

3K notes · View notes

egcdeath · 5 months ago

Text

making a racket

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

warnings: social media au, dates aren’t really relevant but are there for formatting purposes, mentions of a sex tape but nothing explicit, drama, no use of y/n, usernames are random, grammar isn’t the best because it’s social media, angst, fluff, more drama, twitter, gossip websites, reddit, text messages, emails, deuxmoi, so many headlines.

summary: as a celebrity, you often can’t control the narrative. you find that out the hard way when you enter a relationship with an infamous retired tennis player.

word count: 5k

author’s note: this fic was inspired by this request and was so fun to write! also, i apologize in advance if i somehow tagged you because of your username!!!

key: DM = deuxmoi (a celebrity gossip account on instagram)

CDAN = crazy days and nights (a website with blind items)

blind items = basically a riddle for celebrity gossip

EGOT = Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, Tony Awards

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

UPDATE: today thee tennis princess herself followed retired tennis player patrick zweig. he has not yet followed her back.

[alt text: screenshot of mother following patrick zweig on instagram]

6:07 PM 8/12/22 From Earth

cleo - @filmsn0b

@popculturelvr9 could it be for that new biopic abt the tennis player?

6:08 PM 8/12/22 From Earth

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

@filmsn0b god i hope so. it’s about time she brought home an oscar.

6:08 PM 8/12/22 From Earth

🎬🎾 - @lalalanding

@popculturelvr9 @filmsn0b it’s not a biopic fyi but that makes sense. they just started production a few days ago so he’s prob helping her learn how to play

6:10 PM 8/12/22 From Earth

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

@lalalanding @filmsn0b like i said….. the Oscars are not ready for her.

6:10 PM 8/12/22 From Earth

——

tara 🦋🐬 - @profhater

GUYS you will never guess who i just met

10:30 PM 8/22/22 From Earth

🎬🎾 - @lalalanding

@profhater who?

10:32 PM 8/22/22 From Earth

tara 🦋🐬 - @profhater

see for yourself

[alt text: me with the queen herself AHHHH]

10:32 PM 8/22/22 From Earth

🎬🎾 - @lalalanding

@profhater @popculturelvr9 LOOK

10:34 PM 8/22/22 From Earth

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

@lalalanding @profhater OMG

10:42 PM 8/22/22 From Earth

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

@lalalanding @profhater what did she say to you?

10:42 PM 8/22/22 From Earth

tara 🦋🐬 - @profhater

@popculturelvr9 @lalalanding i told her i loved her work then made some random guy she was with take the picture lol

10:55 PM 8/22/22 From Earth

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

@profhater @lalalanding ugh i wish i was you

10:42 PM 8/22/22 From Earth

----

@deuxmoi - 9/13/22

SPOTTED

let’s see what your favorite celebs have been up to since last week

hi! i served (no pun intended) that former tennis player patrick zweig and that one actress from that one dramedy show that swept the award circuit last year at the country club i work at this weekend. they were super nice and tipped very generously! idk if they’re dating but they were definitely wearing matching outfits.

not the first time we’ve

heard she’s a good tipper

—-

@deuxmoi - 9/25/22

Sent via form submission from Deuxmoi

Pseudonyms, please: COURTING her

Email: [email protected]

Subject: award darling and no one’s darling

Message: i work on the set of the production for a very highly anticipated movie for next summer and a leading actress and her “personal trainer” have been getting awfully cozy. we’ve caught him leaving her trailer a number of times. he definitely doesn’t fit her sweet girl persona.

——

Blind Item #13

This newly critically acclaimed TV actress has had her head in the clouds lately. After various reports of spotting her making quite a Racket with a consulting crew member, her publicist has been scrambling to put out fires and advising her to move on, but she insists on seeing him.

Someone call HR.

October 3, 2022

——

r/Fauxmoi

u/aintnodiva

I know it’s not from DM but does anyone know who this might be?

[alt text: Screenshot of Oct. 3, 2022’s Blind Item #13 from CDAN]

⬆3 ⬇

u/sinkingships212

Racket makes me think of tennis, tennis makes me think of that one upcoming movie, so I’m gonna guess Patrick Zweig is involved somehow.

⬆15 ⬇

u/aintnodiva

No wayyy is he with the lead actress then?

⬆5 ⬇

u/sinkingships212

I doubt it. Their vibes seem totally mismatched lmao. Besides, she’s in too good of a place in her career to be with a guy whose dick pics are one Google search away.

⬆8 ⬇

u/teaspilllllt

did anyone else see that submission to DM a few weeks ago about the production for that movie? it basically said the same thing

⬆3 ⬇

u/sinkingships212

I forgot about that. It’s probably just speculation then.

⬆6 ⬇

——

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

UPDATE: it looks like the tennis movie has wrapped! this is queen leaving the set today

[alt text: paparazzi picture of a beautiful gorgeous radiant woman getting into her ride tonight]

9:45 PM 10/15/22 From Earth

🌸💐🌺 - @floraflorals

@popculturelvr she looks so sad omg who hurt her 😭

9:46 PM 10/15/22 From Earth

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

@floraflorals idk who did but i need to fight them

9:47 PM 10/15/22 From Earth

🎾🎬 - @lalalanding

@popculturelvr9 @floraflorals girl probably patrick zweig

9:47 PM 10/15/22 From Earth

🌸💐🌺 - @floraflorals

@lalalanding ew

9:51 PM 10/15/22 From Earth

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

@floraflorals @lalalanding she’s probably just sad to be wrapping honestly

9:52 PM 10/15/22 From Earth

🎾🎬 - @lalalanding

@popculturelvr9 @floraflorals i still blame That Man

9:53 PM 10/15/22 From Earth

----

Blind Item #7

This highly anticipated movie featuring a highly in-demand prestige actress had a particular crew consultant stay far longer than what was necessary. From consultant, to trainer, to fuckbuddy? With production wrapping, these coworkers are not so sure where they stand.

Someone should’ve intervened months ago.

November 16, 2022

—--

Blind Item #4

The holidays are coming around, and this couple who are more like a double still don’t know where they stand. Maybe asking someone allergic to commitment to come to Thanksgiving was a mistake.

November 24, 2022

—-

Instagram

@finstalice: holiday photodump!

1 hour ago

@spammmacy: i’m dead why was that tennis guy at your thanksgiving 💀

45 minutes ago

@finstalice: @spammmacy lololol a friend brought him over for friendsgiving

40 minutes ago

@spammmacy: did he do any tennis tricks for yall

37 minutes ago

@finstalice: @spammmacy ik ur joking but after a few drinks he literally did. u should’ve seen the girl who brought him 😭 she was so embarrassed but went right back to smooching him after

33 minutes ago

@spammmacy: how did she not get the ick

31 minutes ago

@finstalice: @spammmacy love is a mysterious thing

22 minutes ago

——

The Independent

December 13, 2022

Former tennis star Patrick Zweig and up-and-coming actress cozy up at intimate dinner

On Friday, the pair grabbed Italian at a notoriously hard-to-get-into restaurant. The couple shared dishes and drinks and seemed to be enjoying each other’s company.

Zweig, 29, recently retired after a season that ended in injury. His retirement came after a series of scandals, most notably being a risqué leak of his camera roll.

At 29 herself, she is coming off the heels of a very busy award season. Taking home her first Best Actress Emmy and BAFTA awards, she also recently received her second ensemble cast award.

The two seem to be an interesting pair, having finished wrapping a movie they were both working on in late October. The unlikely friendship comes on the heels of murmurs about a potential relationship.

“They’ve been enjoying their newfound friendship. It's rare for her to find someone with similar life experiences that she can genuinely bond with,” an insider told us.

We have to wonder what they discussed over dinner.

——

Buzzfeed

January 1, 2023

Cheers to the New Year! 5 Celebrity NYE Parties You Wish You Attended.

1.Forget Kim Kardashian—If you weren’t at this rising star’s NYE party, you weren’t living!

Attendees included fellow co-stars from her critically acclaimed show, cast and crew from her recently wrapped tennis-themed film, and Patrick Zweig, who she’s been spotted with a number of times. Are they our newest OTP? Vote for your favorite speculated couple in this poll here.

——

Daily Mail

January 14, 2023

Method Acting? Two-time Emmy winner laughs with friends at Australian Open.

The television star, who hasn’t shown interest in the sport prior to her casting in her upcoming film, appeared to be relaxed and laid back with friends. Former tennis professional and new tennis consultant, Patrick Zweig, appeared to explain the ins and outs to her. The pair seemed particularly close as they shared concessions and laughter.

Her team declined to comment.

——

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

UPDATE: mother was spotted looking absolutely splendiferous at the Australian Open today.

[alt text: queen with some of her friends and that tennis guy]

10:45 AM 1/14/23 From Earth

🎾🎬 - @lalalanding

@popculturelvr9 awww she’s so cute

10:47 AM 1/14/23 From Earth

sage ❄️ - @sagingthetl

@lalalanding @popculturelvr9 and of course he’s just there

10:48 AM 1/14/23 From Earth

💐 - @zweignatorrr

@sagingthetl @lalalanding @popculturelvr9 can we please just be honest with ourselves and acknowledge that they’re together lol

10:51 AM 1/14/23 From Earth

sage ❄️ - @sagingthetl

@zweignatorrr @lalalanding @popculturelvr9 i mean yeah obviously they are but i don’t like him

10:55 AM 1/14/23 From Earth

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

@sagingthetl fair but you have to admit they’re a cute couple

10:55 AM 1/14/23 From Earth

sage ❄️ - @sagingthetl

@popculturelvr9 no i don’t

10:56 AM 1/14/23 From Earth

——

r/TennisGossip

u/makearacquet

AITA for shipping Patrick Zweig and that actress???

I just saw a very convincing timeline on Tumblr. They’ve been distracting me at the Open. Kinda cute if they’re actually dating. Really weird if they’re just friends.

⬆-45 ⬇

u/backhandedd

YTA for not posting about the actual Aus Open during the Aus Open.

⬆48 ⬇

——

TMZ EXCLUSIVE: PATRICK ZWEIG AND MYSTERY GIRL SPOTTED GETTING FRISKY IN ALLEYWAY

January 15, 2023

Looks like today's Australian Open winners weren’t the only ones who got lucky.

TMZ obtained an exclusive photo of retired tennis player Patrick Zweig getting hot and bothered in Australia. Though we haven’t identified his mystery woman, there’s speculation around the woman being former fling and fellow retired player Tashi Duncan, who was also spotted at the Open, or a new coworker, who Zweig was spotted sitting next to yesterday.

Zweig’s team declined to comment.

—-

Professional Mess Cleaner: Hello?

Professional Mess Maker: hi what’s up??

Professional Mess Cleaner: Don’t even what’s up me right now.

Professional Mess Cleaner: Are you serious?

Professional Mess Maker: yes lol what’s wrong

Professional Mess Cleaner: tmz.com/patrick-zweig-and-mystery-girl-spotted-getting-frisky-in-alleyway/02948289339

Professional Mess Cleaner: THIS IS WHAT’S WRONG!!!!!

Professional Mess Maker: shittttt

Professional Mess Cleaner: Is that all you have to say for yourself!!!???

Professional Mess Cleaner: I hope for both of our sakes that your stupid boyfriend is cheating on you.

Professional Mess Maker: rude

Professional Mess Cleaner: I’m going to fistfight you.

Professional Mess Cleaner: You’re lucky none of these pictures show your face because it definitely shows his hand up your skirt.

Professional Mess Cleaner: You couldn’t wait a few hours to go somewhere private?????

Professional Mess Maker: i told him we should wait.

Professional Mess Cleaner: TELL HIM HARDER NEXT TIME

Professional Mess Maker: sorry :,(

Professional Mess Maker: patrick says he’s sorry too

Professional Mess Cleaner: Apology not accepted. Especially not his.

Professional Mess Cleaner: What happened to being an easy client??? Are you getting your rebellious phase now??? Are you gonna be doing drugs on the front page of TMZ next week???

Professional Mess Maker: obviously not????

Professional Mess Cleaner: This week then??

Professional Mess Maker: i am not on drugs!!!!!

Professional Mess Cleaner: I wouldn’t know by the way you’ve been acting lately!!!

Professional Mess Maker: you can’t even tell who he’s making out with pls unclench

Professional Mess Cleaner: Please share who else it would be. So someone else’s publicist can deal with it.

Professional Mess Cleaner: And if you tell me to unclench again I will quit right this minute and let you deal with this yourself.

Professional Mess Maker: the article does mention tashi duncan by name but not me

Professional Mess Maker: but you’re so right i’m so sorry we will do better next time 😇

Professional Mess Cleaner: You better, or there won’t be a next time.

Professional Mess Cleaner: I’m serious.

——

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

UNOFFICIAL UPDATE: this is definitely them making out lol

[alt text: patrick zweig making out with we know who]

10:51 AM 1/15/23 From Earth

ZWEIGNATORS - @zweignationupdates

@popculturelvr9 how romantic

10:53 AM 1/15/23 From Earth

💐 - @zweignatorrr

@popculturelvr that’s so invasive pls delete

10:58 AM 1/15/23 From Earth

—

@deuxmoi - 1/28/23

Sent via form submission from Deuxmoi

Pseudonyms, please: ace

Email: [email protected]

Subject: DEUCE

Message: this athlete and actress have been giving it their all to stay away from each other. they’re both pap magnets which is a nightmare for people trying to keep their relationship secret! we’ll see if they make it to valentine’s day.

—-

@deuxmoi - 2/14/23

SPOTTED - V-DAY EDITION

let’s see what your favorite celebs have been up to since last week

i saw patrick zweig in trader joe’s buying a bunch of flowers and chocolates.

anon pls

chivalry is not dead

—-

Blind Item #9

This newly critically acclaimed actress has run into some conflict with her otherwise smooth sailing secret relationship. He’s tired of staying quiet and she’s not ready to come forward. She really believes that bringing him as her plus-one to this major award show will heal all wounds. Only time will tell.

March 13, 2023

—

Buzzfeed

March 21, 2023

Our Top 20 Best and Worst Dressed at the 2023 Oscars

Not everyone can be a winner in this prestigious award show. Not everyone can be a winner when it comes to outfits, either.

Best

9. This beautiful gown, which was worn by the talented Emmy winner, was only made better by the help of friend Patrick Zweig, who helped fix the train a number of times on the red carpet.

—

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

UPDATE: THE QUEEN HAS ARRIVED AT CANNES FILM FESTIVAL

[alt text: mother looking resplendent while getting out of a car]

10:51 AM 5/15/23 From Earth

tara 🦋🐬 - @profhater

@popculturelvr9 she’s glowing!!!!!

11:00 AM 5/15/23 From Earth

🎬🎾 - @lalalanding

@popculturelvr9 i can’t wait for the first reviews of her movie

11:00 AM 5/15/23 From Earth

🎾 future EGOT winner updates - @popculturelvr9

@lalalanding they’re saying this is gonna get her the oscar and i’m not even being delusional

[alt text: a review posted on instagram that says “she’s a powerhouse in this film and is arguably the emotional core of it. her performance is subtle, but moving. her physicality and delivery is like nothing i’ve ever seen before. definitely a contender for next year’s oscars.” the post was liked by her mom, her stylist, that tennis player, and thousands of others. ]

9:05 PM 5/15/23 From Earth

💐 - @zweignatorrr

@popculturelvr awww patrick is so cute for liking! such a supportive bf 🥹

9:38 PM 5/15/23 From Earth

🎬🎾 - @lalalanding

@popculturelvr9 @zweignatorrr we don’t care about that man

9:44 PM 5/15/23 From Earth

—-

@deuxmoi - 7/19/23

Sent via form submission from Deuxmoi

Pseudonyms, please: double fault

Email: [email protected]

Subject: pen pals

Message: this athlete-actress couple whose relationship is an open secret are very sad to be parting ways. she’s going on a month long press tour and he’s staying behind. they have plans to meet up at a few locations, but she’d rather be with him than promoting her movie that’s getting SERIOUS oscar buzz.

—-

From: Gone Fishing ([email protected]) June 22

To: FishersPrice ([email protected])

CC: BaitnSwitch ([email protected])

Subject: How many strokes?

Price & Bait,

Remember how we logged into that tennis guy Patrick Zweig’s iCloud? More specifically, how he wasn’t able to fully kick us out??

You’d never guess what we just found.

Regards,

Fishy

From: FishersPrice ([email protected]) June 22

To: GoneFishing ([email protected]), BaitnSwitch ([email protected])

Subject: RE: How many strokes?

Please share.

Thanks,

Price

From: Gone Fishing ([email protected]) June 22

To: FishersPrice ([email protected]), BaitnSwitch ([email protected])

Subject: RE: How many strokes?

📎 TAPE

See attached.

Regards,

Fishy

From: FishersPrice ([email protected]) June 22

To: GoneFishing ([email protected]), BaitnSwitch ([email protected])

Subject: RE: How many strokes?

Fuck. We’re gonna be millionaires.

Thanks,

Price

——

TMZ

June 23, 2023

TMZ EXCLUSIVE: PATRICK ZWEIG SEX TAPE LEAKED… AGAIN!

Someone hasn’t learned his lesson.

The lengthy video also features a two-time Emmy award winning actress, although it didn’t seem like she was doing much acting (unless she’s better than we thought.)

The pair briefly talk and giggle before getting straight to business. The video is as sweet as it is hot— and though they’ve insisted they’re just friends, their breathy love confessions say otherwise.

Both parties declined to comment.

—--

ZWEIGNATORS - @zweignationupdates

was not expecting to see patrick’s racket on my tl first thing in the morning but ok. good morning i guess.

9:34 AM 6/23/23 From Earth

nasty girl - @matchmyfreqk

@zweignationupdates sorry but like…... link

9:36 AM 6/23/23 From Earth

ZWEIGNATORS - @zweignationupdates

@matchmyfreqk check dms

9:40 AM 6/23/23 From Earth

nasty girl - @matchmyfreqk

@zweignationupdates why was that kinda beautiful

10:25 AM 6/23/23 From Earth

ZWEIGNATORS - @zweignationupdates

@matchmyfreqk that’s what i said! like the hand holding?? the love yous?? when he said he was gonna miss her?? i didn’t realize it was like that for them

10:36 AM 6/23/23 From Earth

—-

CLOSED - @popculturelvr9

not an update but please don’t send us or ask us to talk about the tape. it’s a gross violation of privacy and it is honestly none of our business.

11:23 AM 6/23/23 From Earth

CLOSED - @popculturelvr9

@popculturelvr9 if you bring it up you will be blocked btw!

11:23 AM 6/23/23 From Earth

🎾🎬 - @lalalanded

@popculturelvr9 i swear it’s my whole timeline rn. i feel so bad for her

11:26 AM 6/23/23 From Earth

CLOSED - @popculturelvr9

@lalalanded for it to happen right before the press tour is so bad. sending so many good vibes her way

11:26 AM 6/23/23 From Earth

🎾🎬 - @lalalanded

@popculturelvr9 i’m sure it’ll blow over soon

11:28 AM 6/23/23 From Earth

—-

r/TennisGossip

🔴HOT TOPICS

The tape. Let’s talk about it.

u/sinkingships

Is it really any of our business? Stuff like this happens all the time and as far as sex scandals go this one’s quite tame

⬆-2 ⬇

u/Tennisfan233445

Upvote if that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever watched. Downvote if you’re a liar.

⬆564⬇

u/NothingbuttNet

if this showbiz thing doesn’t work out i think they have a solid backup plan 👀

⬆339⬇

——

Your Fav Femininity Coach - @putmeincoach

This tape is a perfect example of why I always tell my clients not to mess with men who are above them. Super promising career down the drain over some guy.

12:02 PM 6/24/23 From Earth

User 16363627919 - @user16363627919

@putmeincoach Obviously you don’t know what you’re talking about Patrick Zweig is a fucking tennis legend and that girl is nothing.

12:34 PM 6/24/23 From Earth

🎾🎬 - @lalalanded

@putmeincoach @user16363627919 NOTHING???? how many prestigious awards do YOU have, User 16363627919?? i don’t think they give awards out for being a misogynistic loser

12:44 PM 6/24/23 From Earth

🎾🎬 - @lalalanded

@putmeincoach this is such a dramatic take lol everyone’s gonna forget about this in a week when something else happens

12:44 PM 6/24/23 From Earth

Your Fav Femininity Coach - @putmeincoach

@lalalanded We’ll have to see. Still, you shouldn’t settle for someone who makes you act out of character like this

1:08 PM 6/24/23 From Earth

🎾🎬 - @lalalanded

@putmeincoach do you know her personally? not everything is so black and white and obviously they both consented and thought this would be private.

1:41 PM 6/24/23 From Earth

—-

@deuxmoi - 6/25/23

Sent via form submission from Deuxmoi

Pseudonyms, please: breakup

Email: [email protected]

Subject: Cumming and Going

Message: Apparently, this former tennis star and actress are going their separate ways after an intimate video leaked. She��s worried about the damage it might do to her career and her ability to be taken seriously. He just wants her to be happy. Her publicist has been letting interviewers know that there will be no questions answered about the tape, but this will not be a fun press tour for her.

——

Blind Item #2

The damage has already been done for this athlete-actress pair. Still, she insists on suffering through a break up on top of this scandal.

June 28, 2023

——

Blind Item #8

This retired athlete has received countless offers from the adult film industry in the last week. This scandal is somehow even more humiliating than his last five. He says he doesn’t care, but he does. A lot.

June 28, 2023

——

Blind Item #11

She’s losing brand deals and partnerships left and right. If she makes it through the next week alive, let alone through her press tour, it’ll be a major miracle.

June 28, 2023

——

DailyMail

June 30, 2023

Full of Regret: Actress spotted leaving her apartment with red-rimmed eyes

Just days after a scandalous tape was leaked, we’re receiving our first sign of life from the actress.

According to insider DoorDash drivers, she has been a very frequent customer as of late, ordering comfort food and pints of ice cream and leaving very generous tips.

She seemed to be waiting for the storm to blow over before reentering the public, but with her and her partner’s name trending on Twitter for the past several days, it seems unlikely that it’ll happen any time soon.

——

Professional Mess Cleaner: Just checking in. How are you feeling today?

Professional Mess Maker: even worse than yesterday

Professional Mess Maker: i want to say something but i don’t know what

Professional Mess Cleaner: The gossip cycle has already started to move on, but if you really want to say something, I can draft up a response.

Professional Mess Cleaner: The ball’s in your court ❤️

Professional Mess Maker: no more mention of balls please

Professional Mess Cleaner: Sorry. Got it.

Professional Mess Maker: maybe you can just say something about not letting my own decisions impact the cast and crew who worked really hard to make the film happen

Professional Mess Maker: speaking of which, have you heard from patrick?

Professional Mess Cleaner: Do you want the truth or to protect your peace?

Professional Mess Maker: things can’t get any worse just give it to me straight

Professional Mess Cleaner: I hear from him every few hours. He wants to know how you’re feeling.

Professional Mess Cleaner: And if you’ll take him back.

Professional Mess Maker: ugh

Professional Mess Cleaner: You know you don’t have to be separated if you don’t want to. The cat’s already out of the bag. A united front might be better for this kind of thing anyway.

Professional Mess Cleaner: I know how much you care about him. You don’t have to go through this alone.

Professional Mess Maker: i’m not alone though <3

Professional Mess Cleaner: You know that isn’t what I mean.

Professional Mess Cleaner: He loves you. You should reach out to him.

Professional Mess Maker: i will

Professional Mess Maker: eventually

——

Blind Item #6

Rumor has it that this pair, who were previously attached at the hip, haven’t said more than a few words to each other in months. That doesn’t mean the feelings stopped being there.

September 15, 2023

——

DailyMail

September 27, 2023

Tension at the world premiere?

This weekend marked the world premiere of a film that has been generating a lot of Oscar buzz. The first reviews have been mostly positive, despite the very large elephant in the room.

The average onlooker couldn’t help but notice the physical distance between Zweig and the principal actress in the film during the premiere. Despite both being there, neither were photographed together throughout the entire event. The distance feels particularly charged, considering the pair made a movie of their own not too long ago.

——

DailyMail

October 10, 2023

PATRICK’S NEW DOUBLES PARTNER?

Late this Thursday, Patrick Zweig was spotted leaving an intimate dinner with a female friend. This is the first time he’s been spotted since the leak of his now notorious sex tape. We would be remiss if we didn’t mention that the woman he was spotted having a romantic dinner with was not the same woman from the tape.

At least she knows what she’s in for.

——

DailyMail

October 12, 2023

Actress spotted on a date with ex-boyfriend

On Wednesday, the pair were seen holding hands as they walked through the park.

She has not been spotted with her ex-boyfriend, who she starred in her prestige dramedy television with, for almost two years. Are these two getting back together? Or simply making amends?

——

@deuxmoi - 10/15/23

Sent via form submission from Deuxmoi

Pseudonyms, please: rebounder

Email: [email protected]

Subject: kiss and make up already!

Message: this broken-up couple, who have been making headlines for the most innocuous things following a rather romantic scandal, very obviously miss each other. their friends know it, their coworkers know it, even their ‘rebounds’ know it. they think the other person is better off without them in their life, but that’s simply not true.

——

@deuxmoi - 11/8/23

Sent via form submission from Deuxmoi

Pseudonyms, please: love

Email: [email protected]

Subject: podcast

Message: i’m friends with a friend who knows the editor of a certain podcast that’s having a very highly anticipated guest do a tell-all about a scandal very soon. here are some of the things she addresses:

there’s nothing wrong with consenting adults doing consenting adult things—but you still need to be cautious

it’s nice to have some things for yourself but when you’re a public figure you don’t always get that

and finally…. she regrets how things played out in her relationship.

this should be a good episode.

——

Blind Item #17

This DIY Filmmaker couple are FINALLY reconciling. They won’t be making any more home movies together anytime soon, but it seems like they’re picking right up where they left off.

November 16, 2023

——

Buzzfeed

December 5, 2023

Top 5 Dates to go on in New York City, According to our Favorite Celebs

3. The Brooklyn Botanic Garden

Following a major scandal and radio silence on the status of their relationship, these two were finally seen together in public at this garden. They both looked genuinely happy for the first time in months. If these two can make their rocky relationship work during a date like this, you can too.

——

oscar campaign era - @popculturelvr9

UPDATE: GUESS WHO MADE THE OSCARS SHORTLISTTTTTTTTTT

6:35 PM 12/22/23 From Earth

oscar campaign era - @popculturelvr9

UPDATE: the happy couple were spotted wearing matching ugly christmas sweaters today! i suspect they’re going to the annual christmas party she mentioned on Fallon. i hope they party hard and celebrate her making the shortlist!

8:21 PM 12/22/23 From Earth

sage ❄️ - @sagingthetl

@popculturelvr9 ngl he’s growing on me!

8:25 PM 12/22/23 From Earth

oscar campaign era - @popculturelvr9

@sagingthetl i agree!

8: PM 12/22/23 From Earth

—

Blind Item #4

This athlete-actress couple have had quite the year. It’s only fitting that he proposed to her at the end of it. Expect to see more pictures of her hiding her hand in her pocket.

January 1, 2024

—

@deuxmoi - 1/2/24

SPOTTED - NEW YEAR EDITION

let’s see what your favorite celebs have been up to since last week

I served Patrick Zweig and his actress girlfriend at the diner I work at yesterday. They both looked very hungover and I’m 97% sure I saw her wearing an engagement ring. They were very sweet and left us a really big tip.

—

r/TennisGossip

u/makearacquet

Has anyone checked up on Patrick Zweig and his girlfriend? I haven’t heard anything about them in kinda a while

⬆13 ⬇

u/topspinbackspin

It’s so funny you say this. I have a friend who works for the production side of one of those really big entertainment magazines who does those roundtable for actors who are in talks for receiving awards. His girlfriend was just in one, and my friend told me that he was there and super supportive the whole time. Like, bringing her coffee the way she likes it, hyping her up during the photoshoot, and everything in between. Obviously we saw the worst of them a few months back, but they’re a pretty cute couple. I also heard somewhere that they’re engaged? But I don’t know if I believe it.

⬆36⬇

—-

oscar campaign era - @popculturelvr9

i’m shaking in my boots for the best actress announcement.

10:45 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

🎾🎬 - @lalalanded

@popculturelvr idk i feel it in my bones she’s gonna win.

10:45 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

oscar campaign era - @popculturelvr9

OMFG

10:55 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

🎾🎬 - @lalalanded

OH MY GOD

10:55 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

cleo - @filmsn0b

NO WAY

10:55 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

sage ❄️ - @sagingthetl

I KNEW IT LETS GO

10:55 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

tara 🦋🐬 - @profhater

IM SHAKING

10:55 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

oscar campaign era - @popculturelvr9

SHES OFFICIALLY AN OSCAR WINNER I FANT BREATHE

10:55 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

sage ❄️ - @sagingthetl

AWWWW THE KISS THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SM

10:56 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

oscar campaign era - @popculturelvr9

i’m sorry i literally cannot process anything rn did she just say thank you to her FIANCÉ

10:57 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

oscar campaign era - @popculturelvr9

guys this is way too much. 2 awards left for her EGOT AND she’s engaged??2?3):7.8 i’m malfunctioning

10:58 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

oscar campaign era - @popculturelvr9

who would’ve thought that a random instagram mutual follow would get us here. omfg. i love love.

10:59 PM 3/20/24 From Earth

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig imagine #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #josh o'connor x reader #challengers fanfiction #patrick zweig fanfic

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