(Fem! Oc X Art Donaldson)
(Fem! Oc X Partick Zweig)
(Fem! Oc X Tashi Duncun)
Sabrina, is a Barbie girl, living in her perfect tennis world, life's fantastic...
She has Art and Patrick at her Mercy, they adore her... She loved her world!
That is unt...
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Patrick, his gaze fixed on Tashi, bounced the ball rhythmically, the yellow orb a beacon in the sun-drenched court. Sabrina, her face hidden behind sunglasses, signed her eyes flitting from Patrick to Tashi. Art, her husband, noticed the exchange, his jaw clenching.
Patrick, a knowing smirk playing on his lips, nodded at the umpire. The crowd, unaware of the simmering undercurrent, settled into the familiar rhythm of the match. Patrick went into his service motion, but instead of his own fluid, powerful swing, he mimicked Art's, a blatant mockery of the man across the net. It was a silent declaration, a whisper of betrayal carried on the wind.
Patrick's service motion, a perfect replica of Art's, implied, that he slept with Tashi. The ball sailed over the net, a clean, un-returnable ace. Art stood frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief. Silence descended on the court; a thick silence broken only by the faint rustle of the wind. 'Forty-all,' the umpire announced, his voice echoing the palpable tension.
Neither man moved. They stood locked in a duel, their gazes meeting across the net, the silent accusation of a betrayed bond hanging heavy in the air. Tashi, caught in the crossfire, looked from one to the other, confusion etched on her face. Sabrina, ever observant, noticed the shift, her brows furrowed in concern. FUCK OFF!' Art roared, his voice thick with rage.
Patrick simply smiled, a cold, calculating smile that sent a chill down Art's spine. 'Code violation. Verbal obscenity,' the umpire declared, his voice unwavering, 'Point penalty, Donaldson.'
A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd, confused by the sudden outburst. Patrick, unfazed, moved over for his next serve. Art remained rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on Tashi's face, waiting for a reaction. 'Advantage, Zweig. First service,' the umpire announced, his voice calm amidst the storm brewing on the court.
Art finally moved, his steps heavy, his gaze unwavering. Patrick, ever the provocateur, mimicked Art's service motion again. Another ace, a perfect replica of Art's own, slammed into the court. 'Game, Zweig,' the umpire announced, the words hanging in the air like a death knell.
The crowd, a mix of murmurs and scattered applause, failed to grasp the complexity of the match, unaware of the silent battle playing out on the court.
'Set is tied at 6 games all. We will now go into a tiebreak. Donaldson to serve,' the umpire announced, setting the stage for the final showdown.
Art, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and betrayal, looked at Tashi, who was now staring intently at Patrick. Tashi, sensing Art's gaze, met his eyes, a flicker of understanding passing between them. Sabrina, noticing the tension, rose from her seat, her face a mask of annoyance.
Art turned his gaze back to Patrick, and they stood, two gladiators facing off, their towels in their hands, their bodies taut with anticipation. 'Let's really play now,' seemed to echo the thoughts of both men. Art bounced the ball, his movements automatic, a familiar ritual. But as he launched into his service motion, a slow, deliberate twist of his wrist, he mirrored Sabrina's elegant, twirling she did with the racket, mischievous smirk playing on his lips.
