Challengers Movie - Blog Posts

born to be tashi duncan’s controversially young girlfriend, forced to thirst over her on tumblr 😔

manifesting a challengers and saltburn summer 😛

RIP Evan Rosier, you would have loved Challengers

Arcane tennis AU but it immediately descends into Challengers brainrot

challengers movie but it’s pedro pascal, paul mescal and I.

i have been non stop thinking about challengers

ITS ONLY PRACTICE I HAVENT DRAWN IN MONTHS ANYWAYS… 🫰🫰

guysss come ouewnnn where are the challengers fics gangg😭😭💔im going insane stopp

YOU GUYS BETTER DROP NEW CHALLENGERS FICS NEOWWW CAUSE LOSING IT..🥰(or bots idc feed me rn)

"Get load of this guy!!"

yeah i will😍😍(ANYWAYS THAT DAMN SMIRK RAWRRRRR)

consequences (final part)- a.donaldson

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a/n: HI EVERYONE! Thank you all so much for reading this story (sorry it was so long!) and supporting me, it means so fucking much to me, you don't even know! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT AND LIKED THE ENDING TOO :)

summary: a glimpse into your life, 4 years on.

pairing: art donaldson x reader,

warnings: talk of eating disorder, talk of pregnancy, reader is a mom, art is a dad. :)

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4 years later....

You lay in bed, an arm around your waist as the sunlight poured in from the window beside your bed. A pattering of feet and the opening of the door signalled the start of the day. Lily, and her little brother Hunter ran and jumped on top of you and Art, waking you both up from your hazy morning sleep. You rubbed your eyes to wake up, only to be met with the face of Hunter, giving you a hug. 

“Happy Mother's day!” he smiled, all two teeth an adorable sight. 

“Happy Mother’s day!” Lily squealed, squishing between you and Art to give you a hug. She would be spending the day with Tashi today, but she still counted you as her ‘mama’, not her ‘mom’ like Tashi was. 

And it didn’t bother you at all. You loved your two kids, technically neither of them were yours. Hunter had been adopted when he was 2 months old. You remembered the conversation with Art when you told him that you couldn’t get pregnant.

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“Art, I can’t have kids,” you swallowed nervously as your newly-wed husband leaned against the counter in the bathroom as you huddled over the toilet, just finished vomiting. Art had said ‘you must be pregnant’ and started stressing, so you had to just rip the plaster off and do it. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Art, I had an eating disorder for a decade, that doesn’t exactly do great things for your body.” 

“I know but-”

“But what? I can’t get pregnant anymore, end of story.”

You had expected him to be mad, to get angry. But he didn’t, of course he didn't, because he’s Art fucking Donaldson, and he loves you. 

“That’s ok baby, we can always adopt,” he nodded. “I wouldn’t have ever said it if I knew. I need you to talk to me about these things, ok?” his arms wrapped around you as you nodded, tears falling down your face. 

Art accepted you fully and loved you wholly. He was everything you’d ever wanted, and you cursed yourself for ever letting him get away, then you remembered that he cheated and that what you did was justified. 

But you loved him back all the same. 

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“Happy Mother’s day, baby,” he smirked, wrapping a hand around one of yours, and pulling it to his lips to press a kiss to. “You’re amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” you smiled. 

“Ok kids, pancakes for mom?” Art offered and they practically jumped for joy. He got up without another question and led the kids into the kitchen to start making your favourite, the first of many Mother’s day treats. 

Yeah, your life was great, and you loved Art Donaldson. Y/n Donaldson always had a nice ring to it anyways.

You two got married two years ago, Art and you quit tennis and now you're just regular boring celebrities. You got to galas and fundraisers, your very active in the foundation, and you get to stay at home with you kids and with Art. Art helped you heal from your ed and you helped him heal his trauma from his marriage with Tashi.

Pretty perfect life if you ask me.

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

@ruyaas-world

@tqd4455

@blahhucantmakeme

@ellab101

@wheresthecaptaincrunch

@laur20a23

@strengthandstay

the morning of choices (part 11)-a. donaldson

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summary: the morning after you and Art sleep together.

(one more part!!!)

pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

warnings: angst, eating disorder, fluff, smut (18+), etc.

PART 11 of 12

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Were you really doing this? Yes.

His hands roamed your body as he kissed up and down your neck, his thigh between your legs sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. "Art," you whined. "I need you."

"You have me baby," he smirked, a beautiful sight. He switch position, lining his cock up with your core. "You ready pretty girl?"

You didn't even get a chance to respond when he bottomed out inside of you. You had to keep yourself back from screaming, by biting his shoulder, which made him let out a low whine.

"So pretty for me," he groaned as he started to move. He hadn't felt this good, this alive, in a long time, and he was not complaining. You felt so good around him, so pretty under him, he could barely think straight. "Fuck, such a good girl."

You could've cum right then and there. With him over you, grabbing the headboard to the point of destruction, he looked so good. Yet he felt even better, his cock pumping in and out of you with determined and steady thrusts, at the perfect speed, and with his fingers touching your clit just right, and the way he kisses you and-

You came with a loud scream, one he tried to mask with a kiss. A sloppy and messy kiss, just like when you two were in college. He'd changed so much, yet so little, it almost made you laugh. Almost.

Anything other than incoherent moans and whines coming from you would be a miracle. He was fucking you so good, saying all the right things, it was perfect.

"There's my good girl, think you can give me one more?" he asked, thrusting in and out of you again, despite the ring of your mixed cum that was forming at the base of his cock and he pumped in and out.

You gave him a lot more and than one.

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You woke up the next morning, Art’s arms around you. This was what you had wanted for so long, and now that it was coming true, you were scared. What if it didn’t work out? What would happen with Tashi? Were you just going to be the other woman for him?

“Morning beautiful,” he smiled, cupping your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Morning,” you swallowed.

Art picked up on the way you were uneasy, and didn’t know what to do. Were you uneasy because of him? Did you regret last night? Was this all a big mistake to you? “What?” He whispered softly, seeing through you as only he could.

“It’s nothing,” you assured him. “I need to get ready for my match.”

“Your match is at 3pm today, it’s 7am Y/n. What’s wrong?” He pushed on as you started to get up and out of bed, pulling on your clothes as you felt that sick feeling of embarrassment creep in. 

“Nothing is wrong Art!” You shouted and walked off into the bathroom, him close behind you.

He grabbed your hands, stopping you from running away again. “Something is clearly wrong. Tell me,” he demanded.

“Do you regret last night?” You asked, anxiety and fear making your voice smaller than usual. You saw his eyes soften and felt his grip on you loosen, then fall altogether, wrapping around your waist instead. 

“Not at all,” he answered truthfully. “Do you?”

“No,” you admitted. “What do we do now?”

“We could do it again ?-” he smirked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Art, seriously. What are we going to do? You’re married, with a child.” 

His face hardened, and he sighed. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do. I do know that I love you, and I’m glad we’re back,” he pressed soft kisses up your neck as you thought it all over. The last time you were with Art, he cheated on you and didn’t tell you for months. The last time you were with Art you felt unwanted and unloved. The last time you were with Art, you weren't even a priority. How would this time be different? “And I promise you this will not be like the last time, you’re my priority, and so is Lily. This is my last season anyway, I’m retiring after the Open.”

You stood there, shocked. “You’re finished after the Open?” 

“Yup,” he nodded, impressed with his hand-work of the small purple bruise on your neck. 

“I guess… that’s good news,” you smiled at him. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “What about Patrick?”

“What about Patrick?” 

“He’s in love with you,” he explained. 

“And I’m in love with you, Patrick can fuck off,” you answered and Art laughed. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he chuckled, brushing some of your hair out of  your eyes. 

“What about Tashi?” you asked and his face fell. 

“Tashi doesn’t love me at all and she never did. Yes, we have a lot of business ventures with each other, and we have Lily, so we’ll probably co-own a lot of it, and co-parent Lily-”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait- you’re actually going to get a divorce for me?” 

“Of course I am, I love you,” he smiled, and everything felt very real. He loved you, truthfully. He saw you as you were, scars and all, and he was still here. He knew what you'd done, and he was still here.

He loved you. 

“I love you too.

That was the end of it. 

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

@ruyaas-world

@tqd4455

@blahhucantmakeme

@ellab101

@wheresthecaptaincrunch

@laur20a23

@strengthandstay

(part 10) final choice- a.donaldson

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summary: after the previous night, something had changed... some choices you both make forces something to happen, something that has been a long time coming.

(dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

warnings: angst, depression, hurt, loneliness, eating disorder, SMUT 18+ (not really, just heavy making out), small fluff, etc.

PART 10 of 12

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You stood on the court of the challenger, exhaustion pulling at your tired body. Though, it was truly your mind that was tired. Last night had changed your perspective, changed you. Art was in love with you, still. Even after all this time.

You tried to focus on the game.

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You moved the racket with such precision, your back-hand more powerful than it had ever been, every slide and manoeuvre more calculated and perfect than the last. How was anyone meant to beat you? You were just too good.

HIT.

“We have a winner!”

Stella Riley. She was supposed to be ‘the best’, she hadn’t beat you yet. She’d been undefeated in recent months, and you just broke her streak. Oops.

And that’s how you ended up with a black eye, sitting in the medics tent. Oh, how you loved people who couldn’t just keep their anger in.

The door opened and you didn’t even bother looking, knowing it would be some reporter, or someone from her team begging you not to sue.

But it wasn’t either of those things. It was Patrick, clad in one of his old tennis shirts and a very worried look on his face.

“Are you alright?” He asked, pulling up a chair beside you.

“I’m fine,” you sighed. “Nothing like a punch to the face.”

He chuckled, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips to press soft kisses to the bruised skin. You’d gotten a hit in too, one directly to her jaw, oops. “You were so amazing out there.”

“Thanks Pat,” you smiled softly.

You’d been running into Patrick more in the past few years, things with his dad’s company and other rich-people bullshit you didn’t care about. But, it reminded you of when you were all young, the three of you. Always running around Patrick’s family estate, causing trouble, playing a lot of tennis, and just being kids.

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“I’ll race ya’!” Patrick shouted, running off into the distance. You and Art shared a laugh, then ran after him, tennis rackets in hand. You ran through the foliage of the small forest on the property, Art hot on your heels as you giggled, childhood carefreeness, go-figure.

Ever then you knew. Even then you knew you were in love with Art. Even then it was just growing.

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As much as Patrick would refuse to admit it, he’d grown quite fond of seeing you on a regular basis and he started to see you a… different way. You were beautiful. You were talented. You were nice. You were pleasant to talk to, and clearly lonely. Patrick was lonely too. Patrick wanted you. And he had a plan.

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“I’ll walk you back to your hotel,” he nodded, helping you up. You two walked in a charged silence, his hand holding yours.

The streets were relatively quiet, especially for the time of day. Had you not been lost in thought, still thinking over last night with Art and Lily, maybe you would’ve noticed the paparazzo taking pictures of you and Patrick. Of you and Patrick holding hands. Of you and Patrick looking like a couple.

He walked you up to your room, gave you a hug, and left you to your profound contemplation, a certain smirk plastered on his lips.

He was slightly an asshole.

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Art paced the bathroom of his hotel room, staring at the pictures that had been released. You and Patrick were together. He’d lost you to Patrick, again. But… last night. You’d almost kissed him. You’d held his hand. You’d been there, when Tashi wasn’t. There for him, and for Lily. He’d wanted a night like that for his entire life. Seeing you play a sweet game of tennis with his kid, even if she wasn’t also your kid. Art needed answers.

Art needed you.

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After putting Lily to sleep, he sneaked out of the hotel room as Tashi did the same. You were sitting in your hotel room, staring at the shitty sitcom on the TV as a million thoughts ran through your head. 4 weeks ago your phone had been taken away from you, since you’d tried to call a major news outlet to expose the way you were being treated by your management. You didn’t know about the photos. You didn’t know what Patrick had done.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Go away,” you called to the door, a lit cigarette in hand as you smoked out the window.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

“Fuck’s sake,” you mumbled and unlock the door, Art barging in. “Oh. Hi," you out out your ciagrette, trying to get rid of the smoke.

“What is this?” He asked, eyes frantic as he handed you his phone.

“A photo of me and Patrick?” You answered, looking at it. “He walked me back to my hotel.”

Art looked heartbroken. “So you’re together again?-”

“Who the fuck said that?” you exclaimed.

“The New York Times, The Guardian, the Washington Post-”

“Art, breathe-”

“I do not need to breathe! I need to know if you’re with Patrick again!”

“Why?! Why would it matter?!”

“Just tell me!”

“Tell me why it matters?”

“So you two are together again?!”

“Explain why it matters to you so much?! You’re with Tashi! You’re married!”

“Because if you two are together it means that last night meant nothing… a-and the past decade of my life has been a waste!” He boomed, then stared at you with pleading eyes.

You stared back for a moment. “We’re not together.”

The look of relief on Art’s face was comparable to his face when he wins.

Art moved without thinking, his body reacting to you like he used to. A hand grabbing your waist, the other cupping your face. His lips on yours, his body against you.

Electric.

His touch set everything in you alight. You immediately kissed back, allowing him to lead your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His hair was shorter, but it still felt the same. Soft and curly, none of the awful hair-gel his team put in it. Nothing like the stuff Tashi makes them put in. As he deepened the kiss, his tongue invading your mouth, you felt his hand inch up your top. It had been years since you’d had sex with someone and, were you really about to fuck Art? A father? A married man? Then again, he was also the love of your life.

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He was in heaven. Having his hands on you and your hands on him in return. You tasted the same, you felt the same, but it was all different. You two weren’t 19 anymore. You were adults, and if he went through with what he wanted to do, he’d be an adulterer. But he wouldn’t be the only one. He’d known about Tashi’s cheating for years, but something in him said that he’d come around and love him like you had.

That never happened.

Next was the issue of his… problem. What if he couldn’t get hard? What if he ruined all of this and freaked you out?

When he heard you moan into his mouth as he kissed you, he knew neither of those things would be an issue. God, he was so in love with you, and ridiculously attracted to you.

“Fuck,” he groaned into your mouth, the sloppy kiss breaking apart slightly for the both of you to get some needed air. “Can we-?”

“Yes,” you practically whined. Art nodded, a smirk growing on his face as you both started to strip down to nothing. You laid back on the bed, propping yourself up on your arms as you waited for Art to make the next move. His hand traced your jaw, a smile on his face.

“You’re so beautiful, even with a black eye,” he chuckled. You chuckled, then he kissed you again.

Were you really doing this?

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

@ruyaas-world

@tqd4455

(part 9)- hotel room choice- a.donaldson

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summary: how art and you start to reconnect, as friends, of course.

(dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: mad angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, loneliness, eating disorder, SMUT 18+, piv, fingering, no protection, small fluff, etc.

PART 9 of 12

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You sat in your hotel room, a full plate of untouched food in front of you, a party going on outside, and an empty feeling in your stomach. You hated your life. You were worse than empty, you felt desolate, and unknown. Everyone knew your name, but no one knew you. No one knew what you liked and hated, what your real dreams were, what you liked as a kid, what your favourite colour was. 

No. You were completely, and utterly alone. 

Which was fine. It meant no hurt feelings. No complicated relationships. But it also meant radio silence. It meant going days without speaking a word out loud. It meant weeks without real human contact. You had no family, none that wanted to see you anyways. You had no friends, no one at the top could. You enjoyed the tennis season, because it meant you’d at least be surrounded by people, even if they didn’t speak to you. That was fine. You liked people watching. Like when you spotted Lily and Art in the crowd at your match earlier that day. Lily was a beautiful little girl, and your heart ached for the hypothetical children you and Art would talk about back in college when you both got tired enough to forgo any anxieties surrounding talking about a future together. 

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“We’d have a girl first,” he smiled, pecking your lips as he held you close. The cold air from the open window (that neither of you were bothered to close) caused you both to huddle together under his bedsheets, the darkness of the room giving way to a serious conversation. What you wanted your life to look like. How you believed it would look. “We’ll call her Lily.”

“Lily? Like my favourite flower?” You’d smiled as he nodded. You could barely make out his face in the dark room, but you could feel his smile against your skin. It felt good. 

“Like your favourite flower,” he nodded. “Then we’d have twins, a boy and a girl.” 

“We’d name the boy Matthew,” you decided. “After your grandad, obviously.”

Art beamed with happiness. He’d been close to his grandfather when he was a kid and a few months ago he’d opened up about it, telling you off-handedly about his desire to name his kid after him. You’d remembered. 

How could you ever forget it?

“And the girl could be named Heidi,” he offered. “It’s cute, right?”

“Very cute,” you agreed. 

“And then we’d have another boy-”

“Christ, how many times will I have to be pregnant?” You chuckled. 

“You don’t seem to mind me fucking you everyday now,” he smirked, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. You chuckled at his antics and pushed him off. 

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “What would his name be?”

“Lucas.” 

“Why Lucas?” You asked, holding his hand. 

“It’s pretty, like you,” he smiled and kissed your cheek again. 

“I love it,” you nodded. His hands went down to your waist and pulled you on top of him. 

“I love you.”

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You pushed the plate of pasta away from you, a scoff on your lips. You weren’t hungry. You weren’t anything. 

You were empty. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

You got up and answered it, swallowing your tears back. “Hello?”

And there he was, blonde hair in a pair of pyjama pants and a hoodie that made him like 19 again. He looked at you with those same sparkling eyes, Lily’s hand in his. You both just stared at each other for a few seconds, before Lily shook his hand, breaking him out of the trance you’d found yourselves in.“Hi.”

“Hi!” She smiled. “You’re really good!” 

You leaned down to her. “Well thank you,” you smiled. “I’d love to play tennis with you one day, I bet you’re amazing.”

She nodded her head profusely. “Let’s play now!”

“Oh peanut, it’s kind of late-”

“It’s fine,” you nodded at him. “Unless she needs to be in bed?” 

“She’s fine to be awake,” he nodded, his eyes trained on you. 

“Perfect,” you smiled at her. “I’ll grab my racket, yeah?”

“Yay!” she celebrated. “I’ll go back to the hotel room and grab one of yours daddy! I’ll be right back,” Lily rushed off, keycard in hand. 

Art walked into your room and your frame stiffened. He felt like he had no control over his body. He was just… drawn to you. Like a mosquito to a light. His eyes stayed glued to you. 

“Have you eaten?” He asked, looking at the untouched dishes at the end of your bed. 

“I’m not hungry,” you shrugged. 

“You should eat something,” he nodded. “It’s good for you.”

You turned to him with a teasing smirk. “Really? I never noticed.”

Art felt 19 again. Awkward and much too sweaty around you. Nervous.

Like when you two first met at that party. Your beautiful face in the crowd. When Tashi introduced you to him. 

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“That over there, is Art Donaldson with Patrick Zweig, Art’s great at tennis, but he lacks a certain drive, and Patrick is just an asshole who thinks he’s way better than he is,” she giggled. You laughed along, but your eyes lingered on Art. He met your eyes and his widened, he choked on his drink and you chuckled. He waved at you, and you waved back, a teasing smirk on your face. 

“He seems to like you,” she winked. “Go for it.”

You did. 

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“You haven’t changed,” he chuckled nervously. 

“I wish I had,” you plastered on another fake smile and took his hand. His entire body went electric, every nerve ending on fire. You were touching him. You were here with him. Your eyes met his and he leaned in, trying to commit your face to memory. Like he would ever forget it. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, bright eyes staring into yours. “So, so beautiful.”

He noticed how your breath hitched. How your lip quivered. How your eyes watery slightly.

“Dad, I’m ready!” Lily called from the door. 

“So are we!” you smiled, walking over to Lily. She put her hand in your and you felt that sorrowful ache in your heart increase in size. You’d wanted to be a mom. You couldn’t now, not after what you’d done to yourself. 

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The tennis court was foggy, a slight midnight haze on your game. Art and Lily played against you, mostly having it be Lily serve, you hitting it back, then Art catching the ball and giving it to Lily to serve again. She was pretty great, especially for a little girl. It was beautiful. Your dreams coming true for one night. A family. A domestic setting in which Art looked at you like he used to. But Lily wasn’t your daughter. And Art wasn’t your husband. They were both Tashi’s. Everything in your life had become Tashi’s. 

Everything. 

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Art walked you back to your hotel room after he walked Lily back to their hotel room. 

“Thanks for tonight,” he smiled. “Lily had a blast.”

“Thank you for tonight,” you smiled. “I had fun.”

He just looked at you for a moment, feeling exactly how he did eleven years ago.

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“I had a great time tonight,” he smiled, dropping you off at your dorm. 

“It doesn’t have to end,” you smirked. “You could come in for a while.”

He’d never agreed so quickly. 

His lips were on your in an instant, his hands expertly undoing the lacing on the back of your beautiful black dress. “You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you,” you smirked, slightly biting his lip. He swore he could’ve cum right then and there. 

His lips worked down your neck as you both stripped, then you landed on the bed, his fingers slowly working you to your first orgasm of the night. 

“So pretty like this,” he whispered into your ear, somehow speaking over your moans. “So gorgeous.”

His lips seemed to be magnetic to your neck. His eyes, drinking in your body as you convulsed and moaned beneath him. 

“Art!” you whined gripping his bicep as you came. 

“Good girl, just like that-” he groaned when you took his hard cock in your hand. 

“Feels good?” you asked, coming down from your orgasm. He nodded his head as he whimpered out small praises, depraved sounds coming over of his mouth as you worked your hand up and down faster. He lay back as you straddled him, pushing him inside of you as he moaned out particularly loudly. 

“Fuck!” he whined out as you started to move. “So good- so, so good.”

“Fuck you’re huge,” you groaned. “You’re so big.”

With your praises Art came quickly, cumming inside of you with a groan as you clamped down around him, his orgasm triggering your own. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, laying beside him. 

“Please tell me you’re on birth control?” He asked and you groaned. 

“Fuck off and stop ruining the moment,” you chuckled, kissing him softly again. “But no, I am not. I’ll go and grab the morning-after pill now,” you sighed, getting up. 

“No way you’re getting it. I’ll go get it,” he assured, getting up and dressing himself. You simply walked over to your desk and pulled out a blister pack, then chuckled at him. He rolled his eyes and walked over, burying his face in your neck. “I thought you meant going out-”

“I know what you meant,” you smiled. “You’re so sweet Art, thank you.”

He faced you, a rosy blush on his cheeks. “So we’ll see each other again?”

“I hope so,” you smiled. “Cause I really like you.”

“I really like you too,” he admitted, and kissed you softly. 

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He cleared his throat  “You’ll get some dinner?”

“Sure,” you nodded. “You’ll get some sleep?”

“Sure,” he nodded. 

You started closing the door, giving him a small wave,  but he stopped you, putting his foot in the door. 

“I wanted it to be you,” he admitted. “Always. I’ve always been in love with you.”

Suddenly this innocent night had turned into something much heavier. 

Suddenly you didn’t know what to do. 

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

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

@ruyaas-world

@tqd4455

(part 8) choices in hindsight- a.donaldson

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

summary: eleven years later.

(dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, cheating, loneliness, etc.

PART 8 of 12

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Eleven years later….

You sat beside the umpire, your opponent smashing her racket in frustration as tears fell down her face. You were tired. Every bone in your body ached, your muscles were tense, your skin felt too tight. 

Your mind was worse. Playing tennis since you were a little girl does that to someone. Being in the public eye does that to someone, being alone does that to someone.

“You fucking bitch!” She shouted. “You fucking bitch!”

You didn’t care about it, the match was done, and you’d won. As usual. 

You hated tennis. You hated your life. Your lonely, empty life. 

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“How about a challenger? To boost your motivation?” Your manager, Michael, offered. 

“I’ll do whatever,” you shrugged. 

Michael stopped in front of you, stopping you from walking. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m fine,” you plastered on a fake smile. “Just tired.”

“In what sense?” He asked. He’d always been able to see right through you. You rolled your eyes. 

“In the sense that I’m completely alone and I’m sick of knowing that I’m a winner while I feel like a failure!” You exploded. “Tashi and Art got married. Patrick isn’t anywhere near as good as he was. I have no friends. I have no family. I have nothing but a bunch of cold, metal trophies, and a team who don’t care if I want to play anymore. All they care about is my game. And I fucking hate tennis!” 

Michael stared at you, face hardening. “You really had to do that in front of everyone?” He asked. You looked around. Your team was around you, but so was your next opponent.

“I’m not exactly worried,” you snarled. 

Michael rolled his eyes. “Go win the match, then we’ll let you have some alcohol and you can drown your sorrows.”

“Fuck yourself!” you shouted as he walked away. 

“How can I do that when you’re constantly fucking me over anyways!” He shouted back. 

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

Back on the court again. Another subpar player against you. 

HIT. You’re worthless. HIT. You’re awful. HIT. You’re nothing. HIT. You deserve to be lonely. HIT. You deserve to be alone. HIT. You deserve to feel worthless.

HIT. Be better. HIT. Be stronger. HIT. Be more. 

HIT. 

“We have a winner!” 

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

“Come on!” Lily shouted from beside him, her eyes on the court as you won, yet again. She’d seen her mother do it so much she was turning it into a catch-phrase. 

“She’s pretty good, right?” He chuckled, his eyes never leaving you. He didn't want to let himself admit it, but god you looked good. The white tennis outfit you had on was practically making him weak in the knees, as well as the 'I don't give a shit' attitude you carried with you. You were simply leaning in your chair, a drink in hand as your opponent screamed to her manager about how unfair playing against you was.

I mean she wasn't wrong. You were the top female tennis player and you were practically unbeatable. You were incredible.

“She’s amazing!” Lily smiled. “When does she play again?”

“Tomorrow,” he answered. He had your schedule memorised. 

“Can I meet her?” 

Art shook his head. “She and mom have a complicated history.” Also, I’m still madly in love with her.

“How so?” Lily asked as he walked with her, hand in hand to the concessions stand. 

“Well, back in college mom and her didn’t get along because mom couldn’t beat her-” he started but he felt Tashi beside him. 

“You’re lying to Lily now?” She snarked. 

Art felt his skin go cold. “No. It’s true-”

“I beat her,” Tashi nodded. “Dad used to date Y/n as well, isn’t that right?”

Art nodded and Lily looked up at him.

“That’s weird,” she confessed. “Why did you break up?”

“I was in love with mom,” Art lied and kissed Tashi on the cheek, the entire display looking awkward and rehearsed. His regret and resentment grew everyday. He’d never regret having Lily, but he regretted everything he did to you, and letting you get away. 

“That’s gross!” She squealed, shielding her eyes from her parents kissing.

“Alright peanut, what do you want?” He asked, moving up in the line and getting ready to order. 

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

HIT.  Train harder. HIT. Work harder. HIT. You deserve nothing. 

The ball hit into your side and you groaned out in pain. “Fuck!”

You let yourself rest on the ground, not even bothering to turn off the automatic ball-throwing machine. 

“Hi,” a familiar voice smiled at you. Your eyes opened to find Patrick Zweig over your head. 

“Hi,” you mumbled, getting up. 

“How are you?” he asked, following you as you began to hit the balls again. 

“Fine,” you grunted out. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he smirked, watching your figure as you bent to hit a ball. “Very good.”

“Your dad give you a job yet?” 

Patrick’s fantasy was broken. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, not yet.”

“Too bad. You’d make a much better corporate asshole than the piece-of-shit tennis player you are.”

“Tread easy,” he chuckled, a touch of pathetic begging in his plea. You just rolled your eyes and continued on your exercise. 

“How about you go fuck yourself, Patrick?” Tashi scoffed from the stands, Art beside her. 

“How can I go back to that when she fucks me so well?” He joked. HIT. 

“Leave her alone Pat,” Art sighed. HIT. 

“Why are you defending her?” Tashi questioned, turning to Art. HIT. 

“She is right here in case you don’t see her,” Pat defended. HIT. 

“Pat we fucking know-” Art started, but it just ended up in Tashi talking over him to the point that Patrick started talking over both of them in the argument. 

HIT. HIT. HIT. 

“All three of you can fuck off!” you screamed. “I never want to see your stupid face again Patrick, Tashi you can stop flaunting that you got the love of my life, and Art, go be a dad or something! I don’t care anymore!” 

All three of them turned to you with various faces. Patrick was smirking, happy he’d finally pushed your buttons to the extreme. Tashi looked awkward and caught, maybe even guilty. 

But Art. Art looked at you like you’d hung the stars just for him, then tore it all down in front of him. His beautiful blue eyes filling with tears as he finally got to hear you admit that he was the love of your life, only eleven years too late. 

“I’m content with being alone, as shit as it is. I suggest you all move on from me now,” you sighed, grabbing your bag and walking off to find you manager. 

“See you at the challenger!” Patrick called after you. The ATP Challenger Tour. 

The same one from eleven years ago. 

Where everything fell apart. 

You got that familiar sinking feeling in your stomach.

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

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

(part 7) choices on the court- a.donaldson

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a/n: this is kind of a bad and i hate it but i need to post it to make the next part make sense so sorry that it's awful the next part is actually good i promise :) i'm posting them together but like... it just makes sense in my head ok sorry :)

summary: the confrontation where you find out about a few things. (dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, cheating, sexual content, etc. +

PART 7 of 12

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

Art felt like his world had been crashing down around him for months even though he was getting what he wanted. He had Tashi (despite their break-up that lasted a week), he was going pro, and he had all the deals and things he wanted. But he didn't have you. He felt like a lonely idiot, and he lost a lot of enjoyment for things. Tennis was a job, not a passion. Seeing you on the courts, watching you work was the highlight of his days, thank god he had the Nike deal.

But it nagged at him. You were fucking Patrick. You were fucking Patrick even though he'd know about his infidelity and not told you, just like Art hadn't. What was so special about Patrick?

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

You stood on the court, Art on the other side. 

“You’re fucking Patrick?” He tried to keep his tone even, but he knew he failed by the way you served the ball. 

“Why do you care? You got Tashi, you got what you wanted,” you hit the ball back and forth with so much strength Art narrowly hit it back. 

"I never said I have anything I want," He hit the ball back.

"So what do you want? Two girls at the same time?" you scoffed. "Just admit that you're contented with your life and move on, it's fine Art, I'm happy for you and Tashi just like you should be happy for me and Patrick."

"So you and Patrick are a 'thing' now?" Art missed the ball, then served it back to you with a ridiculous amount of force. The tension on the court was aplpable, certain words being punctuated by the slap of the ball against your rackets. You were both angry. Though, he had no right to be. He'd cheated on you. He's the asshole.

"Yeah, we are," you shrugged. "Just like you and Tashi are a thing."

“I don’t want Tashi! I never wanted Tashi!” He shouted back, dropping his racket and ultimately ending the game. “I wanted- I want you.”

“Then why did you fuck her?” you asked mockingly, laughing in his face. “Oh yeah, because you’re a fucking asshole who never cared about me!” 

“I care about you!” He shouted back. “I care about you enough to tell you that Patrick isn’t good for you!”

“And how would you know that? At least he doesn’t cheat on me!”

“It’s not like he’s completely innocent either,” he scoffed. “He watched. He watched me fuck Tashi.”

Your heart broke for a third time. How could you be so stupid.

“What?” you asked, lowering your voice. You noticed Patrick out of the corner of your eye and Tashi entering from the other entrance. “Is that true? You three all knew and none of you told me?!”

There was silence on the court. 

“Fucking answer me!” you screamed. 

“Yeah. No one told you,” Tashi answered. 

“Great. Y’know, keep me out of your weird fucking threesome bullshit from now on, please? It really shouldn’t be that fucking hard, considering you all seemingly hate each other. Just keep your heads out of your cocks, alright?” You shouted storming off the court. 

There was a silence over the court for a few moments. 

Then;

“Fuck you!” Art screamed. 

“Oh fuck me? Fuck you!” Patrick laughed. “You broke her heart, all I did was break her fucking hymen!”

“Fuck both of you! You’re both assholes!” Tashi shouted from the bleachers.

The boys looked at each other. “Fuck us?” they said in unison.

“You’re the one who pitted us against each other for your attention, then made our careers about you,” Patrick commented.

“ Tashi, you’ve been awful to her. You tried to sabotage her biggest match,” Art mentioned. 

“Fuck you,” they said in unison once again. 

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

Three months later…

“Hey,” You smiled, feeling giddy from the copious amounts of alcohol you’d consumed. 

“Hey,” Art smiled back, just as drunk as you. 

You’d gone back to your dorm. You’d kissed him. It felt good. 

“I’m so sorry-” he tried to apologise for well… everything. But all you wanted was to have sex and pass out.

“Shush!” You hushed him and giggled, pulling off your t-shirt and bra. Art’s eyes widened, then he smirked. His lips latched onto yours as you undressed yourselves and landed on his bed. You laid back as Art took his time kissing you. Your lips, your face, your neck, your chest, your stomach, all the way down to your core. 

“Art,” you moaned. “Please.” 

The haziness of the alcohol was getting to him and he was beginning to feel much too tired, but he’d be damned if he let another chance with you pass him by. “What do you want, baby?”

“You,” you moaned breathlessly. “You.”

A sense of pride blossomed in Art's chest. You wanted him. You were with him. Here, he wasn't second best to Patrick, nor was he controlled by Tashi. He was with you. His dream girl. "You have me, baby."

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

You’d felt so stupid when Art wasn’t there in the morning. Why did you trust him? Why did he do that? 

Why, why why?

You two didn’t talk again. Well, not until about eleven years later. 

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

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

(part 6) ladies choice- a.donaldson

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

a/n: dw there are more parts after this :)

summary: how you start moving on, and how Art starts moving away.

pairing: art donaldson x fem! reader | patrick zweig x fem! reader

warnings: smut, piv (wrap it up plz), reader is mad mean to Tashi, usual upset and depressed Art, etc.

PART 6 of 12

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“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked. 

“I wanted to talk,” Patrick shrugged. His loose t-shirt hung off his well-hidden muscled torso and arms. 

“About what?”

“Your break-up.”

“If you’re about to try and convince me to get back with him-”

“No way!” he assured you.  “I wanted to see how you were. Art’s broke up about it but it’s not like he’s the one who got cheated on.”

You were both silent for a moment.

“How are you?” Patrick asked, fiddling with the straps of the tote bag over his shoulder.

You sighed. “Honestly, I’m kind of shit.” 

“I guessed. That’s why I brought ice cream,” he smiled sheepishly. “And I thought we could watch something?”

You smiled. “That sounds nice.”

“So let me in then,” he smiled. You opened the door and the night was full of laughter, ice-cream, and hazily falling asleep in his arms in your bed. 

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

“Stay in touch, yeah?” he smiled from the end of your bed. He had to leave, his train was in an hour and he wanted to be at the station before he missed it out of pure idiocy. He’d never been good with being on time. 

“Yeah,” you agreed and took his hand, lazily bringing it into your own. “Thank you for last night Pat.”

“Thank you, you make a lot of things a lot better.” 

You smiled at his compliment, and smiled even harder when he pressed a soft kiss to your hand before he left. 

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

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Art cursed, watching Patrick leave your dorm room. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Patrick shot back, a satisfied smirk on his face. 

“Visiting Y/n-”

“You mean your ex-girlfriend, right?” Patrick mocked and Art rolled his eyes. 

“I have some of her old stuff, I wanted to give it back,” Art admitted. “Now, what are you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t care. We’re not friends anymore, remember? And you and Y/n are broken up, because you cheated on her, remember?” 

Art felt the stab in his heart when he remembered his infidelity. He didn’t love Tashi. He loved you. He’d always love you. But Tashi and he made sense. Before you, he’d wanted Tashi. Now he couldn’t have you, Tashi was his second choice. 

“See you around, Arthur,” Patrick smiled, walking past him. 

Art was seething. 

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

“Are you fucking Patrick?” Tashi demanded, stalking onto the court as you ran drills. 

“No,” you answered, your focus staying on the balls being thrown at you by your coach.

“Then why did Art tell me you were?”

“Because he’s a liar?” You sighed after missing a ball. “Keep me out of your relationship, you’ve already fucked one of my boyfriend behind my back.”

Tashi rolled her eyes. “Why are you-”

“Focus on your injury, Tashi. Maybe one day you’ll be able to beat me,” you snarled. 

Tashi’s face fell. 

“Oh wait, no you fucking won’t. ‘Cause you’ll never play again,” you snapped. “Now get off the court, actual athletes are trying to play.”

Tashi walked away, a certain shake in her step as you watched her retreat. 

You had to call Patrick. In recent weeks, he’d been your only real friend. The only person who understood you and the pain you were under. Tashi had fucked Art, Patrick was cheated on as well, right? You two were one in the same. 

“Patrick?” you questioned. 

“Hey honey,” you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Everything alright?”

“Can you come visit soon?”

“Of course. It would be my pleasure,” he smiled. 

"When can you come down?" you asked, biting your nails.

"How about Friday?"

"Perfect."

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

When Patrick opened your dorm door, he found you studying over some material for a biology test.

"Hey beautiful," he smirked and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"Hey Pat," you sighed. "How are you?"

"I'm good, happy to see you. How are you?"

You held back tears as you explained what had happened earlier that week, but when he pulled you into his arms you broke.

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

It felt good having Patrick fuck you. You didn't know how it had happened. One second he was comforting you about your fight with Tashi, the next his lips were on yours, the next you were being fucked into next week on your bed.

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

“So beautiful,” he smirked, pummelling into you. “So pretty like this, taking me so well.”

“Patrick-” you whined, grasping at the headboard of your bed as you bucked off the bed. You could feel every inch of him, and trust me, there was a lot. His fingers swirled over your needy clit as you bucked into his hips, fucking yourself onto his cock.

“Such a pretty girl, too pretty for Art,” he groaned into your neck. He took notice of how you clenched around him when he called you pretty. "You're too good for them, for both of them. Art and Tashi. I'll make you forget all about them, yeah pretty?"

You honestly could've cum for his words right there. He looked so good right now, a thin layer of sweat across his naked body, his curly hair on his forehead wet with sweat. “I-I’m gonna-” 

“You gonna cum? Come on, cum on my cock,” he whined. This is what he had wanted, he wanted to be with you, sure. But the sex was a big part of it too. You were drop-dead gorgeous, and from what Art had told him, you were incredible in bed. Art hadn’t lied.

It was all too much, too good. His hand on your waist, his way-too-big cock inside you hitting spots Art could only dream of hitting, his fingers swirling around your throbbing clit, it was all too good.

“Fuck!” you shouted and came around him with a shudder. He bit down on your neck as he came inside the condom, broken moans leaving both of your mouths as you rode out your highs. 

Patrick lay beside you, his hands wrapped around your bruising waist. 

“So…” you took a deep breath.

“I wanna go out with you,” he admitted. “Not just to get back at Tashi and Art, because I think you’re really interesting and special.”

You smiled. “Alright.”

“So, can I take you out on a date?”

“Yes.”

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

Everything was going wrong. "We want you to go pro," his coach smiled at him. He nodded, no excitement behind his blank expression.

"Can't wait," he plastered on a fake smile.

"You'll be represented by Nike, your female ambassador is Y/n Y/l/n. We're so excited for you."

Art smiled but it was fake. everyone knew it was fake. Seeing you at practice everyday was sure to kill him, if Tashi didn't first. Their relationship was slowly falling apart, and it was all because of him.

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

"I think we should see other people," Tashi sighed over dinner. Art just nodded along.

"I agree."

"You have to get over her Art, she's with Pat now-"

"What?" he snarled, venom in his confused voice.

"She and Patrick, they're going out now," she explained. "I told you-"

"No you didn't. You never told me."

Art's head was spinning, you were moving on. You were moved on. He'd lost you.

To Patrick.

Great.

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

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

(part 5)party choices- a.donaldson

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

a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: when you find out about his betrayal and how your relationship truly ends. (dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, cheating, sexual content, etc. +

PART 5 of 12

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Art thought back to the party as he lay in bed that night, regret bubbling deep in his stomach.

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

He followed you around the party for around 40 minutes before he broke off to find Patrick. He didn’t mean to walk in on them, hell, they weren’t even in a room, they were doing it in a shed, it was fucking ridiculous. Partick had just pulled him in, he consented, sure, but he wasn’t thinking straight. 

“Pat?” Art called into the darkness of the night. “Patrick?”

“In here,” he heard giggling from the shed just a few paces away. 

He opened the door to be met with a very naked Patrick with Tashi beside him. “Jesus Patrick!”

Art looked up as the two of them laughed at his reaction.

“What, it’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” Tashi teased. 

“Fuck off,” he sighed. “I’ll talk to you later-”

“Don’t leave,” Patrick smirked. 

“Yeah Art, stay,” Tashi teased. Art felt so conflicted as he nodded his head. He loved you, he wanted to fuck you, but he wanted this too.

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

The second he left the shed, post-orgasm clarity hit him hard. He‘d just fucked Tashi Duncan (and technically Patrick Zweig watched). Your competition, the woman who hates you, the woman he promised to steer-clear from. 

Fuck.

He went to find you immediately, planning on telling you and letting you break up with him. But… When he saw you, so beautiful, that damn plum dress clouding his judgement, he walked up to you, wrapped you up in his wraps and kissed you as you giggled at his antics. 

He drove you back to your dorm and followed you inside, falling asleep beside you as guilt buried itself in his body. 

He couldn’t even respond when you told him you loved him. 

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

The worst part was that Art knew he’d fucked up. He knew it was an awful idea to try and hide it from you and he regretted not telling you the second it happened. He was aware of how bad this was, not that all the other shit he did to ruin you. Yet he still did. 

You were enraged. You were sick of letting this pathetic boy rule your life. You were done.

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

“C-can we talk?” he asked, cautiously approaching you as you ate in the canteen of the challenger. 

“About what?” you snapped. “You got what you wanted, you have Tashi.”

“I don’t want Tashi,” he mumbled, staring at his feet. “I want you, and I know I don’t deserve you.”

“You cheated on me.” 

“I did,” he admitted. 

“You cheated on me, then strung me on for 6 months, Art. You slept in my bed, you fucked me, you kissed me, and you promised me you loved me, all while you knew you;d fucked someone else,” you listed off. “Go fuck yourself, Art. I hope you choke.”

Art could feel his throat burning. “Alright,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

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

You’d caught wind of Tashi’s injury a week after it happened, and you felt sickly satisfied. Karma. 

You only saw Art and Tashi together, and found out they were dating a few weeks after they got together. 

You were sitting in your dorm when there was a knock at the door. You opened it to find someone who shocked you. 

Patrick Zweig.

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

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :) @fkaams

art donaldson fics

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-choices and chances au: (FINISHED!)

your relationship with art over the years.

before his choice

how it was before art ruined your relationship

choices and chances

the last time you're second-place to tashi

choices and meetings

the first conversation you two have after the break-up

wrong choice, wrong move

when you find out about his betrayal and how your relationship truly ends

party choices

when you find out about art's betrayal and how your relationship truly ends.

ladies choice

how you start moving on, and how art starts moving away.

choices on the court

the confrontation where you find out about a few things.

choices in hindsight

eleven years later.

hotel room choices

how you and art start to reconnect, as friends, of course.

final choice

after the previous night, something had changed... some choices you both make forces something to happen, something that has been a long time coming.

the morning of choices

the morning after you and art sleep together.

consequences

4 years later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

promise

a moment of your life with art and your kids.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

writing two challengers (2024) fics rn at once and the whiplash between silly social media fic and a way-too-long messy pwp is real. call that shit variety