You were probably the sexiest woman to walk the earth— hell, you were so good at being hot that you were said to be the real life ‘Tina the turner’, y’know, from 2 Broke Girls, able to even make straight girls hook up with you and have a gay awakening. But your eyes were on two guys, best friends, the Junior US Open doubles winners and singles finalists Tom Welling and Jensen Ackles. Who wouldn’t be after the two heartthrobs of the tennis world, hm? Exactly, so you were.

Thing was, was that you were their type, too — hell, you were everyone’s type — and you were the face of Adidas, the queen of the tennis court, and you’d been giving them both bedroom eyes all evening throughout the party your parents held to announce your full ride to Stanford on a sports scholarship. At this point, there wasn’t a single person who didn’t know your name, brand or face.

Both boys wanted to bang you, they so did, which was why having a private after party, just you three, in the motel room wasn’t a bad thing at all. In fact, it was great, especially since you’d just beckoned one of them over— wait, which one?

Tom looked between the three of you, puppy-eyed as usual. “Which one’a us?” He murmured like a lost golden retriever, but he was beaten to it by Jensen, who ran to sit beside you. Oh, fuck, he better follow suit, so he jumped to take a seat either side of you, y’know, eager puppies.

“I beat’cha, Tommy.” Jensen grinned, though his green eyes were focused on you, you and your sexy-ass self, almost reverent cause damn, did they even make goddesses like you anymore? Guess so, cause you were sitting right there, y’know, in all your glory, their wet dreams in person— this was surreal.

They could not mess this up, there was no margin for error, cause they were hanging out with the queen of the tennis court, no way could they be caught slacking right now, it just wasn’t done, y’know? God, you were so pretty.