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myladybelle · 4 months ago

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𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | chapter thirteen

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.7k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers content warnings, descriptions of anxiety, swearing, use of y/n 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hi my loves i’m back!! thank you all for your patience while i was sick and preparing for the new semester, i appreciate all your kind messages so much x 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

𝐖𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒’ 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 – 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟑, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

“Newcomer on the professional tennis scene, Y/N Y/L/N surprised virtually everyone when she won the Ladies’ Semi Final two days ago,” an English-accented sports journalist said on TV as you waited for your cue to step onto the court for the finals. “She’s not only the most technically excellent player of her age, but she has the fastest serve on the WTA tour.”

“She’s a remarkable player,” the other journalist agreed. You watched them play back a clip from your most recent match, highlighting one of your aces. “But if she wants to win on Centre Court here at Wimbledon for the very first time, she’s going to have to start embracing her volleys. Maybe she should take a leaf out of her boyfriend’s book.”

“Patrick Zweig? He only made it to the second round!”

“Yes, but he played some very entertaining tennis this week. It was a joy to watch and very well suited to a grass court!”

“It’s true, Zweig plays a sneaky game of tennis. He keeps his opponent on his feet.”

“In any case, the whole world is sure to be watching Y/N Y/L/N tonight, eager to see her take on Anna Mueller.”

“Now, this isn’t the first time Y/L/N and Mueller have played. They faced off numerous times in junior tournaments, and Y/L/N already beat her at Indian Wells, Milan, Roland-Garros, and the US Open last year. They have yet to play each other in a final, though, and Y/L/N has no grand slam titles to Mueller’s two.”

“Will it be experience and longevity that give Mueller the win, or will new talent Y/L/N take the match with precision and speed?”

“We will soon see.”

You had never been this nervous before a match until your second time at Wimbledon.

For the first time in your professional career, just a year and a half after entering the tennis world, you made it to the final round of a grand slam tournament. The other tournaments you had won within the last year put your name on the map, allowing you to garner attention and recognition from your peers and spectators.

But a grand slam title meant you would be a part of history.

It was everything you wanted, everything you worked and struggled for. Your heart pounded so quickly that you thought it might leap out of your skin, and your quickening breath made spots appear in your vision. The pressure mounted, not just because your life goal was an arm’s length away, but from all the people who had their eyes on you. Some scrutinising, some rooting for you.

Bracing your hands on your thighs, you closed your eyes and tried to breathe deeply. It felt like you were losing control. Everything you did to maintain your anxiety felt like it was slipping through your fingers, just like your dream of becoming a grand slam winner.

Tashi’s voice rang in your ears. You’re going to be fucking miserable, and you’re going to hate your life just as much as your mother hates the fact that she had you. Art’s voice joined Tashi. Everyone knows that tennis is more of a mental game than a physical game. You have a lot of anxiety, and…

The sound of your phone getting a text message interrupted your tornado of negative thoughts.

PAT 💞: Don’t listen to any of those assholes, they don’t matter. I love you so much and I’m proud of you no matter what happens today. Hold your head up high and do your best, nothing else matters. Don’t forget to breathe, pretty girl. P x

As you stepped onto the court, the cheers of the crowd were deafening. You could feel the vibrations of their applause through the soles of your shoes; the energy was electric, and the buzzing of quiet chatter set you on edge. Remembering Patrick’s advice, you breathed deeply and waved to the crowd, smiling as you headed for your bench. Everyone on your team was sitting in the player’s box with Patrick and your dad, and it was a relief to see them there supporting you.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this final round match. This match will be played as the best of three sets,” the umpire said. “To the left of the chair, from Switzerland, Anna Mueller. To the right of the chair, from the United States, Y/N Y/L/N. Y/L/N won the toss and elected to serve.”

From his seat in your box, Patrick chuckled. “I bet Anna Mueller’s terrified right now,” he commented. “Going into a match against Y/N and having her serve first would push me over the edge if I was playing her.”

Next to Patrick, your father happily declared, “If Mueller wasn’t nervous to play Y/N before, she will be once she realises how many aces she has up her sleeve.”

Mueller crouched behind the baseline, nervously twirling her racket between her hands. Her poker face wasn’t nearly as good as yours, betraying her fear as you bounced the ball and prepared to serve. Knowing that you had this effect on your opponent, even before the game had started, made you feel powerful.

With a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins, you tossed the ball in the air and served it over the tennis net. Mueller ran in the wrong direction, expecting you to serve to her backhand, and cursed when she couldn’t change courses fast enough to return the ball.

Your first ace of the game. 15-love.

Mueller played nervously. She knew your baseline game was strong, but her mistake was assuming that you could only play from the baseline. You decided to play closer to the net, consistently hitting gently when Mueller expected you to go hard and fast, making it impossible for her to generate the power needed to return well.

When you took the first set 6-0, Mueller cursed and turned to her box to yell something at her coach. During the changeover, you could hear her muttering to herself, failing to compose her posture and expression. She looked panicked and angry. From experience, you knew that the right amount of anxiety could help you focus on the match, but anger would destroy a player’s self-control and concentration.

When you served an ace at the beginning of the next set, Mueller stomped her foot angrily and challenged the call. The call held up, declaring your serve was in and awarding you the point. You watched in shock as Mueller’s face twisted with fury, her eyes blazing as she smashed her racket against the ground. Over and over again, the crowd gasped and booed as the frame cracked and the strings bent out of shape.

“Code violation, racket abuse. Warning, Mueller.”

From his seat, Patrick smirked, applauding the action while you maintained professionalism. He was the type of player who occasionally broke his racket or committed other code violations, so Patrick admired your ability to hold back. There was something rewarding about watching your opponent fall apart as you waited for her to get it together so you could keep playing.

The atmosphere of the game changed after Mueller’s outburst. Releasing her anger had done Mueller well, and one of her backhands shot forth like a lightning bolt, making it impossible for you to return. She got a few points in, making you run for it. Sweat glistened on your brows, and your heart pounded, a steady drum beat that echoed the rhythm of your feet as you struggled to return some of Mueller’s balls. The crowd watched in awe as she started finding her rhythm, pushing through the fatigue with a newfound unwavering focus.

Mueller looked incredibly smug to have caught up with you. So, you let her win a little bit.

Your father frowned when you served into the net twice, giving Mueller the point. “What’s she doing?” he muttered quietly. “Are the nerves getting to her?”

Patrick shook his head, chuckling as he realised, “She’s throwing the set on purpose.” A smirk graced his lips when he remembered how you used to do the same thing when you played Tashi. “She wants Mueller to think she’s beating her.”

You let yourself enjoy it, toying with Mueller and never letting her know what you planned next. When you volleyed the ball back to her, she sprinted to the net. Just when she got used to playing close to the net, you hit a flat groundstroke past her. Once Mueller realised your pattern, she stayed closer to the baseline, and you hit her with your drop shots, far too close to the net for her to return.

Quickly, you caught up, 7-7. You needed one last game to win the match, and it was your turn to serve.

Two aces in a row. Mueller yelled in frustration and anger when she missed both serves, once to her forehand and once to her backhand. Your focus sharpened with each passing moment. Serving was your area of expertise. You had the match exactly where you wanted it.

With each point you won, your confidence grew. Your movements were fluid and instinctive; your racket felt like an extension of your arm, sending powerful, precise shots that left Mueller scrambling to return them. Like always, your serves were lightning fast, unerring and spectacular, kissing the line every time without fail.

Mueller chased down every ball, but exhaustion was setting in, and her anger had returned. She was irritated that you had let her win, annoyed that it had boosted her ego so much, and furious that she couldn’t get in your head the way you got in hers.

You were playing the best tennis of your life, each moment a testament to your skill and resilience over the years. The beauty of your game captivated the spectators, leaving the crowd in awe of your mesmerising strokes and masterful returns. The more points you won, the closer you got to winning the tournament. Tension and excitement were palpable, mounting in a crescendo of enthusiastic applause and standing ovations.

“Match point.”

The cacophony of cheers faded into the background as you bounced the ball in your hand. You were good at keeping the pressure of winning off your shoulders, but the enormity of this point pressed down on you heavily. With your stomach in knots, you adjusted your grip on your tennis racket. Amid all the stress, anxiety, and fear, you felt a spark of determination.

You didn’t just want to win; you deserved it.

You served her backhand, which Mueller anticipated and hit back with equal intensity. The ball hit the ground awkwardly on your side of the net, creating minimal bounce with little power. Regardless, you hit it hard. As the two of you rallied back and forth, you followed the sports journalist from earlier’s advice and used a trick shot Patrick had taught you. When Mueller hit your forehand, you pretended to miss the ball. She celebrated, prematurely stopping while you hit the ball back between your legs, surprising Mueller and making her trip as she tried to return the ball.

As Mueller landed on the floor, the ball bounced on her side of the net for a second time, earning you the point and the Wimbledon Ladies’ Singles title.

An overwhelming surge of triumph and disbelief hit you all at once. Your ears rang, drowning out the cacophony of the crowd’s ecstatic roars as you collapsed to your knees, dropping your racket. The weight of victory crashed upon you, and tears streamed down your face as you sobbed. Each teardrop released the intense pressure and emotion you had carried through the gruelling tournament.

You cried for your mother, who you no longer needed to please; for Tashi, your former best friend who would not be here to celebrate this moment with you; and you cried for yourself, the person who got through it all and made it to the other side.

When you wiped the tears from your cheeks and stood to shake your opponent’s hand, the world around you blurred back into focus. The cheers and applause of the crowd went from being a distant echo to a deafening roar. Mueller barely touched your hand before going to shake the umpire’s and—for a brief, solitary moment—you were enveloped by a profound sense of accomplishment.

You did it.

After waving to the crowd and thanking the umpire, you turned to your player’s box. There, Patrick stood applauding your victory. His heart swelled with immeasurable pride and love for you, feeling an overwhelming admiration for your strength and dedication. You laughed, running across the court towards the box and excusing yourself as you squeezed past ball boys and line judges. Stepping up on one of the nearby benches, you lifted yourself closer to your boyfriend, who leaned over the railing, giggling.

Up close, Patrick’s eyes were misty, and a broad, genuine smile spread across his face. Every sacrifice you made, every early morning and late night, came rushing back to him in a flood of memories. He could hardly contain his excitement.

“You just fucking won Wimbledon!” Patrick yelled. “You were incredible!”

“I love you,” you replied, equally breathless and giddy. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Pat.”

Pushing up on your toes, you hooked your arms around Patrick’s shoulders and kissed him. The crowd cheered even louder around you, but you didn’t care. Nothing and nobody else mattered at that moment. All you knew was that you had just achieved something incredible and Patrick was the only person you wanted to celebrate it with. He held your head carefully and kissed you hard, expressing his passionate pride with every press of his lips.

“Thank you. For reminding me to breathe,” you acknowledged when you parted, gazing up at your boyfriend with sparkling eyes. “And for teaching me your favourite trick shot.”

Patrick chuckled, taking one of your hands and pressing several kisses to the back of it. “That was all you, gorgeous. I had nothing to do with it. This win belongs to you,” he said sincerely. “Fuck, I love you, pretty girl.”

Art Donaldson stood in the crowd, his heart heavy with pride and melancholy as he watched you give Patrick a final kiss before returning to the court for your interview. It was a privilege to watch every powerful swing of your racket and every point you earned. Art was reminded of the countless hours you had poured into your practice, the determination that had always driven you while you were at Stanford. He had once been the one to share in those moments of victory with you, celebrating every win with the joy you now showed on the court.

But now, as Art saw the happiness in your eyes and heard the crowd’s cheers, a wave of sadness washed over him. He was no longer part of your triumphs. He was just another face in the sea of supporters, knowing your victory wouldn’t be shared with him.

Art’s gaze flickered between you standing on the court and Patrick sitting with your father in the player’s box. His former best friend looked happier than Art had ever seen him, and knowing that your memory of this day would always be intertwined with your relationship with Patrick filled Art with an ugly jealousy.

He knew he had no right to your life and joy, but Art wanted to celebrate with you. He wanted to tell you that he was proud of you and always knew you had the talent and perseverance to succeed. In fact, there were a lot of things Art wanted to say, including a sincere apology for what he said the night you broke up. But you had moved on, and you were happy, and the last thing Art wanted to do was ruin any of that for you.

So instead, Art got up and pushed through the crowd, making his way to the exit as he heard your voice thanking Patrick for his love and support over the loudspeakers.

𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 – 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝟏𝟑, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

It felt good.

Sitting in the booth with Tashi was almost like when Art used to sit in the dining hall with her at Stanford, back when you, Art, and Tashi were all attached at the hip.

A month ago, Art and Tashi graduated and began working in the professional tennis world, but it meant nothing to either of them without their best friends by their sides. Neither of them could have guessed that you and Patrick would leave behind such a huge hole when you stopped being friends with them.

“Maybe you wanna jump ship?” Art said, half-joking as he signed the bill and paid for their meal. “Come be my assistant coach?” When Tashi stared dumbfoundedly at him, he grinned. “Oh, I get it. You want to work with someone who has a little bit more potential.”

“No!” Tashi protested. “No. No, it’s not that. I mean, you have plenty of potential. It’s just–” she cut herself off, nervously observing the blond sitting in front of her. It had been years since you and Art broke up, but it felt like yesterday. “You think that would be a good idea?”

“Why not?” Art retorted. Tashi gestured vaguely, referencing their complex shared past. “That was a long time ago–”

“–It was not that long ago,” she disagreed, interrupting Art’s attempt at nonchalance.

“Well, it feels like a long time ago,” Art mumbled.

“So, you’re saying you’re not in love with her anymore?” Tashi argued, raising a questioning eyebrow at her old friend.

Art schooled his expression, not wanting to give his lingering emotions away. But Tashi saw through it, recognising the familiar signs that indicated his love for you still ran deep. His features softened at the mention of you, and there was a faraway look in his icy blue eyes.

Back when you were dating Art—and Tashi and Patrick were casually seeing each other—Patrick used to describe the look on his best friend’s face when he first laid eyes on you. That look of pure, absolute adoration and love never once faded from Art’s face at the mention or sight of you. Tashi knew with certainty that it would never fade.

“Well, I’m not holding my breath waiting for her,” Art retorted. “That ship has clearly sailed.”

“Doesn’t mean you aren’t clutching the hull for dear life,” Tashi remarked, using Art’s ship analogy against him. “Did you see her at Wimbledon?”

“Of course I did,” Art replied, fiddling anxiously with the napkin on the table.

“She was incredible, wasn’t she? I mean, I always knew she had it in her, but watching her win that final…” Tashi sighed.

If she was as good a friend to you as she always thought, she would have noticed that you used to hold back to help Tashi pursue her dreams of being the best tennis player in the world. Upon reflection, Tashi realised she would never be as good a friend to you as you were to her, and she should never have considered you to be less talented, hard-working, or capable than herself.

“It was like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” Tashi said proudly.

Art agreed, “She’s officially a grand slam winner, the whole world was watching her that day.”

Tashi nodded. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” Her lips curved in a disappointed frown, recalling all the times you and Tashi promised you would always be there to celebrate each others’ accomplishments when you were teenagers. “All of a sudden, the whole world feels entitled to a part of her. Instead of going through this journey with her, we’re on the outside looking in, just like everybody else.”

“It was pretty surreal,” Art affirmed. “I mean, I always knew what she was capable of. I remember all those late nights, talking about what she would do if she ever won a grand slam. And now that she has, I can’t help but feel a little lost.”

“Like you should be there with her,” Tashi guessed. She gave Art a sympathetic smile, her eyes soft with understanding. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Art sighed, leaning back in his booth. “We used to be the people who knew her best in the world,” he recalled. “And now, we aren’t a part of her life anymore. It’s not just about tennis or success, it’s about her. She didn’t just hold us all together, she was seeped into the essence of everything I did and everything I dreamed.” The vulnerable honesty in Art’s voice made Tashi swallow harshly. “What am I supposed to do without her now? None of my plans ever accounted for me reaching this point in my life without her in it.”

Art’s words rendered them both silent.

You used to take up so much space in their lives, filling a void neither of them knew existed until you left them. Thinking about you and reflecting on your absence was always bittersweet. There was so much warmth and joy in their memories of you, but they were constantly paired with painful reminders of how much they hurt you. You, who only ever wanted to love and be loved.

“Maybe this is what we deserve for hurting her in the first place,” Tashi offered. “The things I said to her that day–” she inhaled sharply, pain filling her chest as she recalled the argument that ended your friendship– “I don’t blame her for wanting nothing to do with me.”

“The look on her face when I told her I went to see you the night you fought…” Art shook his head in disappointment, his jaw clenched tightly as the frustration simmered beneath the surface. “I should have told her I went to confront you for hurting her. I should have told her I was desperate to figure out why she was inconsolable, but I let her believe I went to you because I was on your side. I was so angry and frustrated during the break up that I told her things just because I knew they would hurt her. Who does that to someone they love?”

“Us, apparently,” Tashi said, grumbling like she couldn’t believe what they did to you. Reaching across the table, Tashi covered Art’s hand with hers, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “My mom says that Y/N was my life lesson,” she explained. “That losing her was supposed to teach me something.”

“Yeah?” Art met her eyes and frowned. “What did it teach you?”

“To hold on,” Tashi declared. “When you meet someone like her, someone who’s warm and loving and far kinder to you than you deserve, you hold on to her. Because going through life without her is unimaginably worse than when she’s by your side.”

It hurt to reflect on how much worse life was without you. You had been everything to Art for so long, and his eyes stung with tears every time he thought of you. The emptiness you left behind felt insurmountable, a constant ache he couldn’t escape. Every moment without you reminded him of what he’d lost, of how your presence had once filled his world with light and purpose.

Now, that light was gone, leaving him to navigate the shadows of what used to be; the pain of your absence was a relentless companion.

Art pulled his hand away and cleared his throat, staring at his lap. “This is really stupid, but, uh… After your injury… I couldn’t help but just think about what would have happened if I had beaten Patrick,” he confessed.

Tashi froze at the mention of how you met Art and Patrick.

She knew Art well enough to understand that everything he did led back to you and how he lost you. No matter how badly Art wanted to change the past, Tashi knew you would always love him and Patrick throughout your life.

In a way, Tashi, Art, and Patrick were the three great loves of your life.

One for a friendship that was supposed to last a lifetime, one for the boy who made you realise what it was like to be loved, and one for the man who would wait a lifetime just for a minute of happiness with you.

No matter how much you once loved Art, Tashi knew you would love Patrick in every life, too. It didn’t matter what order you met them in; you were the catalyst that changed each of their lives.

Tashi thought she was the only objective spectator to your relationships with Art and Patrick. She was your best friend at Stanford when you dated Art, and she was practically a stranger now that you were with Patrick. Watching your romantic relationship unfold on TV and in newspapers and magazines was entirely different from having a front-row seat back in college, but Tashi knew you well enough to see how deeply and genuinely you loved Patrick, just as you had loved Art.

“So you want me to join your team because you couldn’t win Y/N’s number that day?”

Art lifted his head to meet Tashi’s gaze. “No,” he denied. “I want you to join my team because I want to win.”

Tashi suppressed a grin. She should have known that if it wasn’t about you, it was about Patrick. “I think you’d beat him now if you guys played,” she commented, sipping her coffee. “Don’t you think?”

It was a challenge that Tashi knew Art would easily see through.

Perhaps Art could beat Patrick if their history wasn’t complicated by you entering their lives. If the two of them were just best friends trying to make it in the tennis world, Art had the skills, practice, and tenacity to win now. After all, he had dedicated himself to the sport at Stanford and had an excellent team supporting him, while Patrick continued to rely on raw talent. As Art steadily climbed the ranks with every game, Patrick floundered somewhere in the lower 200s.

But all of this was negated by one simple fact. Patrick had the one thing that Art truly wanted: you.

If Art and Patrick played a match tomorrow, you would be in Patrick’s player box, cheering his name and applauding his wins. Your presence at the match—and in Patrick’s life—would be more than enough for Art to lose every time he faced his former best friend, just as he lost you. The only thing that could give Art a chance to beat Patrick would be having you on his side.

“Don’t know,” Art replied cryptically. “We, uh… haven’t played professionally, and don’t keep in touch.” Tashi laughed, nearly choking on her coffee. “What?”

She cleared her throat. “Just… She never saw it,” Tashi explained. “The rivalry between you and Patrick. Ever since that night we first met, she always assumed the two of you were after me.” She shook her head, visibly entertained. “She used to say that I was the sun and she was the moon. But, God, wasn’t she just everything? The moon and the stars and everything in between, that was her.” Tashi and Art shared a soft, sentimental expression. “I never understood why she couldn’t see it. Everything was over the moment you and Patrick met her, and I knew none of us would ever be the same.”

A small smile stretched across Art’s lips. “Yeah…”

Tashi was right—you had been everything to him.

Art felt it the moment his eyes first met yours, an instant connection that went beyond mere attraction. It was as if something within him recognised you, a deep and undeniable pull that resonated in both his body and heart. It wasn’t just about your smile or how you moved; it was how your presence seemed to complete something in him, filling a void he hadn’t even known existed.

You became his anchor, the one person who made everything else make sense, and from that moment on, he knew his life would never be the same without you.

“We joked that we weren’t homewreckers the night we met you, but…” Tashi trailed off, sighing as she set her mug on the table and crossed her arms. “I never thought it would come between me and her. I always thought I was a better friend than that. And I hate it, but running into you today is the closest I’ve felt to her in years,” she confessed.

Sitting there opposite your former best friend, Art couldn’t help but agree. So many parts of you lived on in Tashi, remnants of your lifelong friendship that had shaped both of you in ways he could now see clearly. The way she tilted her head when deep in thought mirrored your own, a habit you’d both picked up during your countless late-night conversations. That amused, all-knowing expression on Tashi’s face when Art tried to lie to her was uncannily similar to yours.

Even her choice of words, the little phrases and inside jokes that only you two shared, brought you vividly to life at that moment, making it feel like a part of you was still there, sitting right across from Art.

“Yeah, me too,” Art agreed, trying to keep the sudden gust of sadness out of his tone.

To make matters worse, seeing Tashi was the closest Art had felt to you and Patrick in a very long time.

It brought back memories of his former best friend, who had once been his world. There was a time when the four of you felt inseparable, and now, sitting there, Art could almost hear the echoes of those days. The way Tashi absentmindedly rubbed her forearm was like Patrick used to, a nervous habit that always surfaced during serious conversations. Tashi’s honest recount of how much she missed you felt like a mirror image of how much Art missed Patrick. Being with Tashi now, it was impossible not to feel the empty space left by the absence of the friendships that had once defined them both.

That night, as Tashi stepped into Art’s hotel room, the invisible string that still bound them both to you seemed to tighten, pulling them a little closer to where you slept just a few floors away.

𝟐 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 – 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝟐𝟖, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

“I just got off the phone with Elora,” you declared, stepping into your shared hotel room with Patrick and finding your boyfriend lounging on the bed with the TV on. “I’ve been asked to play an exhibition match tomorrow. Just something quick and fun before the first round to boost ticket sales for the qualifiers. A bunch of American players from the tour will be there.”

You dropped onto the bed beside Patrick, kicking off your shoes and curling up in his awaiting arms. The two of you had been travelling together for over a year, sharing rooms while on tour and cohabitating in every aspect of your lives. It was like a reward after enduring a long-distance relationship during your final year at Stanford. Instead of just talking on the phone and occasionally getting surprise visits from Patrick, you went everywhere together and supported each other at every match and tournament you attended.

The two of you had slipped into an easy routine. Having the same profession meant that you were constantly going to the same places, and it made travelling and sightseeing so much more special. After working hard for over two weeks at each tournament, exploring new cities with Patrick was the ideal way to wind down and relax. There was something incredibly special and romantic about doing every day of your life with him.

Your relationship had been grabbing headlines ever since the press caught on to the fact that you were together over a year ago, but the attention ramped up exponentially after you won Wimbledon.

What used to be short articles about an up-and-coming, attractive couple in the tennis world had snowballed into detailed timelines of your dates and public appearances with Patrick. Luckily, the public adored you, and there was very little criticism or negativity surrounding your relationship. Other players on the WTA and ATP tour often teased you about being real celebrities, pointing out how rare it was to win public favour as much as you and Patrick did.

Even though this shift was odd, and you had yet to get used to the constant eyes on you, there were perks to having your picture taken professionally every time you went on a date with your boyfriend. You had framed your favourite newspaper clipping, a beautiful picture of you kissing Patrick after winning Wimbledon, with the heading The Darlings of the Tennis World written above it in a large, bold font.

“Great,” Patrick drawled, blinking lazily as he wrapped his arms around you. His hands gravitated under your shirt to draw circles on the bare skin of your midriff, immediately sending butterflies to your stomach. “Which unlucky girl’s getting her ass handed to her while you beat her in straight sets?” he joked, knowing any match you played would end in a crushing defeat for the other player.

“Actually…” you trailed off, sending him your best smile as Patrick drew his head back to meet your gaze.

He observed your innocent expression with quizzical, unsure eyes. Even though you were giving him your sweetest look, there was something mischievous about the glint in your eyes. When realisation hit him, Patrick sighed and said, “I’m the unlucky girl, aren’t I?” His distraught tone made laughter bubble from your lips.

“Smart and handsome? I really hit the jackpot,” you teased, buttering him up with compliments so that he would agree more readily. “Come on, Pat, it’ll be fun!”

“Oh yeah, really fun!” Patrick agreed sarcastically, matching your energetic tone. “Like how a lion treats a lamb during slaughter!”

You rolled your eyes, stifling your laughter at your boyfriend’s dramatics. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, I’ll go easy on you,” you said, imitating his voice and tone. He had never used those exact words about playing tennis, but Patrick’s tone was always thick with the same arrogant confidence. “Think about it! If you play against me, you’ll get to see that winning serve of mine up close and personal.”

“Excuse me, I’ve been on the opposing end of your winning serve plenty of times during practice,” Patrick defended. “I always knew you were better than me, gorgeous, but I don’t remember agreeing to public humiliation when we started dating!”

“Drama queen,” you accused. “It really will be fun! We’ll be mic’d up and we can talk and joke the entire time. It’s the best of three sets and it’ll be just like practising together. Come on, what do you say?” At Patrick’s uncertain expression, you sat up in bed and swung a leg over his lap to straddle him. The fire that instantaneously burned in his gaze made you smirk triumphantly. “I’ll be really grateful if you do it,” you said suggestively, placing your hands on his chest and grinning. “Pretty please?”

“Well, since you said pretty please,” Patrick joked, unable to keep the wide smile off his face when you tilted your head at him. “Sure. What’s one more event where everyone thinks you’re out of my league?”

Happily, you exclaimed, “That’s the spirit!”

“Wait–” Patrick frowned when you got up from his lap and began scurrying around the room looking for your phone– “I thought you were going to show me how grateful you are?”

You snorted. “Nice try. You can have your reward after the exhibition match,” you declared, chuckling quietly.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Patrick complained.

“Don’t act like you don’t love the chase,” you retorted, winking as you texted Elora that you and Patrick were happy to participate in the exhibition match.

From his place on your shared bed, Patrick rolled onto his stomach and observed you. It was hard to imagine that he had only known you for four years. Your participation in his life felt so insurmountably important that it was like he had known you his entire life. You had seamlessly woven yourself into the fabric of Patrick’s daily existence, shaping his world with a depth and significance that defied the brevity of time.

Unlike Tashi and Art, Patrick realised early on that you were someone he should hold on to. His life before you had been filled with disappointment from his family, and Patrick recognised what a rarity you were. Having already lost you before when his relationships with Tashi and Art ended, Patrick knew losing you meant losing something irreplaceable. Your presence filled gaps he hadn’t noticed before he met you, making it obvious that you were someone worth cherishing.

As you picked up a phone call from your coach, Patrick went on his laptop and checked how much money was in his savings account. He won enough matches to pay for plane tickets, tennis equipment, and other daily necessities, saving an immense amount of money because the fat cheque you got from Nike every month more than covered your shared accommodations. Over the last year, in particular, Patrick had started saving for something very special.

An engagement ring.

As much as Patrick wanted you to have the very best, an engagement ring from Harry Winston or Bulgari just wasn’t within his budget. He was entitled to a family heirloom ring, but Patrick didn’t want to give you something from his family. Any engagement ring he chose had to represent you and your relationship with him, rather than the generations of unhappy, reluctant marriages his family seemed destined to repeat.

After carefully perusing different stores and comparing the cost and quality of various rings, Patrick found the perfect one at Cartier. It was simple and classic, exactly the style you had mentioned you preferred offhandedly on several occasions. To his surprise, it didn’t cost an arm and a leg, and he had almost saved enough to get you the exact ring he wanted you to have.

After Wimbledon, you noticed and commented on the fact that Patrick was training harder than ever. To you, it seemed like he was finally starting to take himself more seriously. Instead of coasting on his natural talent, Patrick began seeing your physical trainer with you and even quit smoking to improve his stamina. What you didn’t know was that he was doing all of this to increase his chances of winning more matches at the US Open, where a significant amount of prize money was on the line.

In Patrick’s mind, the more matches he won, the more money he could take home, and the nicer your engagement ring could be.

“Hey, do you know what ring size you are?” Patrick asked as casually as he could when your phone call was over. “Jess got a bunch of rings that don’t fit her and she was wondering if you want them instead?”

“That’s so sweet, I can’t believe she thought of me,” you acknowledged, grinning. Ever since you met Patrick and his extended family last year, you were constantly invited to spend time with his cousins Jess and Alex. While Patrick wasn’t best friends with them, they were the closest family he had, so you had accepted several invitations over the past year. “I would love that, Jess has amazing taste in jewellery! Tell her I’m an eight in ring size, but I’ll squeeze into anything she wants to give me,” you joked, not thinking much of Patrick’s question.

With shaking hands, Patrick sent a text with your ring size to the sales associate at the Cartier store in New York, who had been keeping him updated on when the exact ring he wanted was available. Once the US Open was over, all Patrick had to do was head to Manhattan and pick up the ring. It had taken him almost four months to find the perfect one for you, and then it was just a matter of winning enough prize money to afford it. As long as Patrick won two rounds at the US Open next week, he’d have enough to buy your engagement ring.

Then he would have to decide how and when to propose to you.

#challengers x reader #challengers fanfic #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson imagine #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig x you #art donaldson x you #challengers fanfiction #mike faist x reader #josh o connor x reader #tashi duncan #fic: guilty as sin?

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guess-my-next-obsession · 7 months ago

Text

Guilty As Sin? — Chapter One

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, not a lot here beyond some world building, the party starts next chapter :)

word count: 3.6k

series masterlist

Though it was the first day of the fall semester and your first day as an official law student, you felt exactly the way you had the year before when you were a struggling undergrad. Same town, same friends, even the same apartment in the student housing complex right next to campus that you shared with three of your closest friends, Nina, Derrick, and Alondra, who just so happened to be law students as well.

It seemed every aspect of your life had remained stagnant for the last four years, except for one critical thing—you were now a single woman. Four years of the most confusing, toxic, passionate relationship of your life now dead and buried thanks to your ex-boyfriend’s inability to keep his dick in his pants. You’d have to see him too this semester, though you tried to keep the prospect of an awkward run-in out of your head as you got ready for the day to the sound of a busy apartment. Nina and Derrick had breakfast duty this morning, the two of them shuffling around the kitchen as loudly as they could, it seemed. Alondra, like you, was sitting across the hall in her bedroom blasting Kali Uchis out of her speaker, though after two years of living together the noise didn’t really affect you at all anymore.

“Food’s ready,” Derrick said, popping his head in the crack of your open door.

Standing at six-foot-two with brown skin, hazel eyes, plump lips, and the sharpest bone structure you’d ever seen, Derrick was beautiful. The two of you had done an awkward dance ever since you’d known him, with Derrick silently crushing and you silently rejecting him. You didn’t know what it was about him that didn’t appeal to you; he was kind, handsome, and funny, all the things a normal girl could want.

But you never really felt like a normal girl.

You liked the men that didn’t like you back, the men who desperately needed someone to fix them, always convinced that you had what it took to do just that. Of course, you knew better than that by now, but there was a part of you that worried you. A part you always had to keep an eye on, too afraid of your naive, trusting heart taking the reins.

“I’ll be out in a sec,” you said, coating your eyelashes in a decent amount of mascara. Derrick leaned against the doorframe, watching you with something too close to adoration for your comfort. You laughed it off, waving your hand at him. “Go away.”

“Am I making you nervous,” he teased. Truthfully, he was. Just not in the way he probably hoped.

“I’m trying not to stab myself in the eye,” you said instead.

“Mmhm,” he chuckled, patting the doorframe. “Hurry up, your plate’s at the table.”

“If you’d let me concentrate.”

Ten minutes later, you were sitting at the table with Derrick on your right—his plate conveniently set beside yours—and Nina and Alondra across from you.

“I’m swearing off of hookups this semester,” Alondra announced, earning skeptical glances from the three of you. “I am!”

“Until Sabina calls you up late at night claiming she’s lonely and sad,” Derrick teased. You kicked him under the table only to find out that Nina had done the exact same thing. “I’m just speaking the truth.”

“You’re a man, you don’t get to speak your truth here,” Nina said. “And as for you—“ She turned to Alondra beside her. “The minute you run into that bitch, you’re done for. Best to accept it now.”

“No, I’m done with her,” Alondra insisted, though you’d all seen this before. Every fall, without fail, Alondra and her toxic cheater of an ex-girlfriend, Sabina, get back together, and every summer they find a reason to break up, only to repeat the cycle the next year. “I might try dudes for a while.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snorted, carrying your plate to the sink. “Since when are you into dudes?”

“Since Sabina ruined all women for me,” she sassed. “Besides, sexuality’s a spectrum.”

“What about you?” Nina asked, turning in her chair to watch you wash your dish. “Any plans this semester? Hopefully ones that don’t include a toxic relationship?”

“Certainly not,” you replied with a laugh. “I’m gonna be the most boring fucking person at this school this year. No shitty men, no partying, just school.”

“Twenty bucks I get her to black out this weekend,” Nina challenged, turning to Derrick and Alondra.

“I’ll take that bet,” Derrick said, shooting you a wink.

“Alright, while you guys are betting, I’m gonna head out to class. You know, like a serious law student,” you teased, drying your hands off before making your way to the front door. “I’ll see you guys in class.”

The first class of the day was Dr. Brown’s Contracts lecture. You’d had him during undergrad for your Criminal Psych class and specifically sought him out while registering because of his laid-back approach to teaching. Though he appeared to be yet another stuffy old man at face value, his personality was much more in line with that of The Dude from The Big Lebowski. He reeked of weed, loved to curse, and didn’t give a shit about all the formalities the rest of your professors insisted upon.

Dr. Brown’s class passed by with ease, his lecture on the contract breach between Apple and Samsung paired with a meme-filled PowerPoint amusing you enough that you forgot you’d been sitting there for two hours.

The next class of the day—Dr. Arman’s Legal Research and Writing course—was far less amusing, but at least Dr. Arman didn’t ask much from her students besides following along with slideshows and turning in the occasional paper. Still, the next hour and a half drudged on like feet on sand, Alondra nodding off beside you in the back of the lecture hall.

“Shit,” she whispered, snapping awake after a nudge from your elbow to her side. “Is it almost over?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, backing up your bag. “I have to hustle to Criminal Law, you good?”

“Yeah, just gonna rest my eyes for a second,” she mumbled, already falling back to sleep. With a fond smile, you rolled your eyes at her and left the hall.

The last class of the day was Criminal Law I, taught by Dr. Peña, a professor you’d never had in any of your undergrad classes. It was always a toss up every time you entered a new lecture hall whether or not a professor would end up on your shit list, and a sinking suspicion told you Dr. Peña would not be as casual as Dr. Brown nor as lenient as Dr. Arman. No, there was always one overly demanding, arrogant old prick of a professor each semester without fail.

Though you’d arrived fifteen minutes before class, all the good seats were taken by the time you walked into the hall, leaving only a few seats at the very front. Sighing, you looked longingly at Nina as she sat in one of the back rows, surrounded by a flock of hopeful men desperate to make her laugh. She caught eyes with you and gasped when she realized where you were headed.

“No, girl, not the front,” she called, earning a dejected nod from you as you reached the mostly deserted front row.

As you unpacked your bag and notebook—you hated using your laptop in class—Derrick quickly slid into the seat beside you with a huff, as if he’d just finished a marathon.

“Had to climb over a row of people to get down here,” he said, smiling at you.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, nudging his shoulder with yours.

“Wasn’t gonna let you slum it down here alone.”

“Thanks,” you chuckled. “You know anything about this guy?”

“Yeah, my brother had him when he went here a few years back,” he said, opening his laptop. “Apparently he’s a dick.”

“Of course he is,” you sighed.

“You have class after this?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “You?”

“Nah, just the gym with Nina,” he said, stretching out his legs and relaxing into his chair. “You could come, if you wanted.”

“I hate the gym,” you said, scrunching up your nose. “Besides, I need to go get groceries and stuff. Maybe get a head start on Brown’s project.”

“Responsible,” he nodded in approval. “Boring but responsible.”

“All these boring years are gonna pay off when I graduate top of the class,” you quipped, earning a scoff.

“That’s what you said in undergrad and who ended up graduating at the top?” he asked with a smirk, sticking his chin up with pride.

“I was one percent away from kicking your ass,” you rolled your eyes and chuckled.

“Maybe you’ll find another shitty boyfriend to distract you—“

Though you would have liked to hit him for his comment, you were stopped dead in your tracks as the most handsome, brown haired, broad shouldered, puppy-eyed looking man walked out of his adjoining office and up to the desk at the front of the class. He carried an air of authority with his furrowed brows and disapproving frown as he waited for the class to quiet down.

“If you’re all finished,” he said, unpacking his book bag while scoping out the faces he’d be spending the semester looking at, starting with the back. You watched him with interest, hating that kick of adrenaline the moment his eyes met yours. He seemed to linger for a half a second longer than he had with everyone else before looking away, furthering your delusional thoughts. “Welcome to Criminal Law I. My name is Dr. Peña, you’ll refer to me as such. I except professionalism, conciseness, and competency from the lot of you. You’re graduates now. Time to act like it.”

“Jesus,” Derrick muttered beside you, shaking his head.

“There will be no whispering, no texting, and for God’s sake, no music in my class. You’re here to learn and I’m here to teach.”

You listened as a few students gathered their things and silently made their exit from the hall. Dr. Peña watched them with a smug look that did little to shoo away your interest. Fantasies of receiving that same look in a far more inappropriate context flooded your mind, visions of you on your knees in his office.

“Good, now let’s begin. We’ll be covering the penal code today, along with territorial jurisdiction. Can anyone give me a definition of the latter?”

Never one to volunteer an answer without being called on, you waited for someone else to take the fall. Dr. Peña seemed just as patient, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that pulled at the fabric covering his arms. You quickly turned your eyes down to your notebook when he caught you staring, busying yourself with jotting down the date.

“In the front,” he said, earning your attention. When you found him still watching you, you let out a small sigh. “Would you care to give us a definition, Miss…”

Giving him your last name, you searched your mind for the definition that you remembered learning at some point during your four years of undergrad.

“Territorial jurisdiction refers to a court’s power in a certain territory,” you said, swallowing down your nerves as you began to feel your ears heat.

“And in regards to Texas? Can you give me the section of the Penal Code that covers territorial jurisdiction?” he asked, his voice a deep, whiskey warm timbre that hit you like an aphrodisiac, your mind running rampant with all sorts of inappropriate scenarios of hearing that sinful voice up close and personal.

“I…don’t know,” you said, lowering your eyes down to your desk just to get a break from his steady eye contact.

“Section 1.04,” he said, a hint of arrogance in his tone. “Now that you have the section, would you mind reading the text for us?”

Taking a deep breath, you flipped to the section in your textbook, hoping that your nervous stutter didn’t make an appearance today.

“I can do it,” Derrick volunteered, mildly irking you. Did he think he was saving you? Or was this his attempt at competition?

Dr. Peña waited until he was finished to admonish his interruption.

“Thank you, Mr…,”

“Crawley,” he said, offering him a charming smile.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Crawley, but in the future, I ask that you refrain from interjecting. I’m sure your friend was perfectly capable of reading aloud,” Dr. Peña said, causing Derrick to scoff under his breath. “Alright, I need a volunteer from the second row to read the next section.”

Derrick seemed to take it to heart, his ever-present smile long gone as he typed his notes on his laptop.

“Sorry,” you whispered, tapping his shoe with yours.

“S’whatever,” he shrugged, but you knew him well enough by now that it was far from whatever to him. Derrick was always the best in every class, always adored by professors. You weren’t sure he’d ever been scolded by a teacher in his life, let alone in front of the entire class. “He’s a prick.”

“He’s—“

“Are we interrupting?” Dr. Peña sighed, leveling a look at the two of you as if to say, really? You shrank in your seat, avoiding his stern eyes. “Anyways, you were saying, Miss Martinez?”

After a tense hour spent listening to Dr. Peña pick on the class, it was time to pack up. You could practically hear your bed calling as you packed your things into your bag, except…

“Would you mind staying behind for a moment,” Dr. Peña asked, calling your name. You gave Derrick a wide eyed look, earning a raise of his brow.

“Sure, um—“

“I’ll wait up for you,” Derrick offered, slinging his bag over his shoulders before filing out of the lecture hall with the rest of the class.

Once alone with Dr. Peña, you began to feel sick with anticipation, especially as he sat quiet at his desk shuffling through papers.

“I’d like to apologize for today. I’m afraid we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” you said, carefully approaching his desk. “I assure you, this is nothing I take more seriously than this. I—“

“I asked you to stay behind because I’m in need of an assistant for my undergrad Intro to Forensics class and your name was given to me by the Dean,” he said, looking up at you with a mixture of exhaustion and boredom in his eyes.

“Wait—what?” you gave him a puzzled look.

“Your name is listed in the TA program, is it not?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. You tried not to ogle him, but the way his white button down stretched across his broad chest made it damn near impossible.

“It is, but—“

“You’re one of the only law students available who’s taken the class before,” he said, clicking his pen as he began to mark the syllabus sheets he’d passed out towards the end of class. “So, what do you say? Three labs a week. Paid, of course.”

“I’m not sure I can handle the extra load, honestly,” you said. Though you were sure the extra work would certainly up the pressure, it wasn’t the real reason you were so quick to decline. Truthfully, it was him. How were you supposed to be around him an extra three days a week when you were already worried about the three you’d be spending with him in this class? “But if you’re in need of a recommendation, Mr. Crawley took Intro to Forensics with me and—“

“Take a day, think about it. First lab is Wednesday,” he interjected, glancing up at you with those brown eyes that looked both innocent and dangerous at the same time, a confusing balance your overly romantic heart longed to study in depth. You chuckled, a sound of disbelief over his disregard for your rejection, as you watched him turn back to his work. “I’ll have the Dean send over a formal offer this afternoon.”

“What time are the labs?” you asked, slowly accepting your fate—or, more accurately, accepting his stubbornness on the matter.

“Eight to ten in the evening,” he replied, sounding as though he might yawn at the prospect. “Not ideal.”

“No,” you agreed, offering him a small smile. “I, uh, I’ll think about it.”

Not wanting to embarrass yourself—or endure more of this delusional torture—you made your exit as quickly and gracefully as you could manage, waiting until you were out in the main hall to freak out.

“What did his fine ass want?” Nina asked, approaching you with Derrick in tow. You snorted at her brashness and rolled your eyes.

“His fine ass wanted me to TA for his Intro to Forensics lab,” you replied, shaking your head as you looked through your tote for some gum, hoping to distract your rampant fantasies about said fine ass.

“What the fuck?” Derrick griped, shaking his head. “I’ve been begging the dean to get me a TA position this semester but he said all the positions had been filled.”

“I tried to recommend you,” you offered, giving him a sympathetic frown. “I don’t even know if I’ll take it—”

“Then let me,” he said, hope lighting up his eyes. Even though you still had yet to make up your mind on the matter, his assumption that you’d just give urubbed you the wrong way.

“I’m gonna think about it first,” you said, sharing a knowing look with Nina.

If there was one thing to fault Derrick for, it would be his tendency to step on people—even his closest friends—to secure an opportunity. Even when he didn’t need to, even when he’d already won over most professors on campus, even when he knew his female friends struggled to reach even half of the respect given to him strictly because he was a man.

“You coming with us to the gym?” Nina asked, changing the subject as she watched you bite back the urge to tell Derrick that maybe, just this once, it would be you stepping over him to secure a good opportunity.

“No thanks,” you chuckled.

“Lame,” she said, glancing over at Derrick who seemed to be lost in thought. “Well I’m gonna go change.”

“See you later on,” you said, watching as she made her way down the hall.

“So you think you might take the job?” Derrick asked, sticking his hands in his pocket.

“I might,” you admitted, shrugging your shoulders.

“Just…be careful,” he cautioned, causing your brows to furrow. “Male professors can be creepy as fuck.”

“Men in general can be, yeah,” you laughed. “But I’m sure I can take care of myself.”

He nodded, ticking his jaw.

“Well, I gotta go get groceries,” you lied, desperate to get back home, crawl into bed, and maybe do something about those fantasies from earlier. “I’ll see you back—“

“Come to dinner with me,” he blurted, biting his lip as he watched you go through a rollercoaster of emotions. Shock, amusement, confusion, before landing on something akin to empathy.

“What? Derrick—“

“Just one date,” he promised. “One date and if it doesn’t work out, you know…we can just stay friends.”

“I don’t know that it’s that simple,” you said, looking anywhere but at him.

Why was he so dead set on going down this road; of making this mistake that you knew would end terribly?

“Just a date,” he coaxed. “And I promise no weirdness afterwards if it doesn’t work out.”

“You can’t promise that,” you muttered, shaking your head. “And even if you can, I don’t know that I can.”

“That’s assuming it goes bad,” he said, nudging your shoulder with a smile. “Friday night, you and me, some fancy restaurant I can barely afford. What do you say?”

Perhaps it was the new year, or maybe just the endorphins brought on by the sight of Dr. Peña in his tight slacks, but what did you have to lose? A good friend that you weren’t even sure would be your friend if he didn’t believe it was his only way in?

“Fine,” you said, sighing. “One date. No weirdness. No expectations.”

Derrick grinned, nodding as he pulled you in for a hug. “Won’t regret it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled.

“Excuse me,” Dr. Peña appeared, in the doorway the two of you were blocking, causing Derrick to pull you out of the way and into his side. You watched Dr. Peña’s eyes scan the proximity between the two of you, a hint of disapproval on his face that you were sure you were imagining. “Have a good afternoon, you two.”

“You too,” you managed, sliding Derrick’s arm off your shoulder. “Also—“

Dr. Peña stopped, turning back towards you. “I, uh, I’ll take the job.”

“What?” Derrick scoffed, earning a curious look from Dr. Peña.

“Very well,” he nodded. “You’ll find the contract in your email tonight.”

“Thank you for the opportunity, Professor,” you said, trying your hardest not to purr the last word out the way your filthy mind yearned to.

Thank you for the opportunity, Professor. Such a fucking cliche that you had no intentions on perpetuating.

Except for the fantasies. After all, what harm could come from a silly little fantasy?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javi peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #guilty as sin?

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chloewriteswhenshewantsto · 7 months ago

Text

Guilty as Sin?

Helllooooo!!! I am back with another smutty trainwreck of a fic. This writing thing is still pretty new to me so I hope this isn’t horrible.

I hope you enjoy it <3

Warnings: Female Body Descriptions, Smut (like a lot), Anthony likes 🐱

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton X Female! Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

As always, 18+ Minors DNI

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Anthony lets out a low chuckle, his hand sliding upwards to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. "I thought you liked my teasing, love." He said with a playful smile, his fingers brushing against your arousal with a calculated touch. "But I suppose you have waited long enough." He added in a seductive whisper, his mouth capturing yours in a deep and passionate kiss.

With a devilish smile, Anthony begins to trail kisses down the length of your body, stopping at the edge of the sheets as he hovered over your center. His hands caressed your thighs, gently pushing them further apart as he settled between them. His breath ghosted over your core, warm and teasing, as he let out a soft chuckle, amused by your growing anticipation.

Anthony's tongue gently glides over your core, the warmth of his mouth sending shivers down your spine as he begins to explore your body with a slow and deliberate intensity. He is in no rush, wanting to savor every moment and every sound that escapes your lips, his hands holding your thighs in place as he laps at your core, relishing the taste of you.

Anthony's tongue delves deeper, his mouth working in perfect rhythm as he alternates between long, slow strokes and quick, tantalizing flicks. Your moans and gasps only serve to fuel his desire, his grip on your thighs growing tighter as he hungrily laps at your core. His skilled ministrations are driving you to the edge, his name a breathless moan that falls from your lips over and over in growing desperation.

Anthony lifts his head from beneath the sheets to look at you with a devilish grin, his chin shiny with your arousal as he moves back up your body, propping himself on his forearm beside you. He brushes his thumb over your lips, still glistening with your wetness. "You look breathtaking like this." He whispers, his voice rough and low. "And you taste even better."

“So sweet,” He says licking his lips. “Would you like a taste?” He asks as he move his lips on top of yours. You groan as his tongue pushes into your mouth, tasting the slickness that still coats his lips. He kisses you deeply, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulls away again, his eyes dark with arousal. You can feel his hands in your hair and his body pressed deeply into yours. “Anthony.” You breathe out. “Keep going please.” You moan in between kisses.

Anthony's attention turns back to you as you speak, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "There you are," He murmurs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd kissed you senseless." He adds with a chuckle, his hand coming up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“No, not yet anyway.” You tease him. Anthony's smile widens into an even more devilish grin, raising an eyebrow in playful challenge. "Is that so, love? Shall we change that?" He purrs, his fingers trailing down your jaw to gently hold your chin, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips, his mouth eager and possessive as he claims yours with a fierce heat.

As a moan escapes from between your lips, Anthony can't help but let out a low groan against your mouth, the sound practically a growl. The noise makes your skin tingle, and you can feel his body pressing against yours even more firmly than before, the heat between the two of you growing more intense as his desire for you continues to escalate.

He continues to kiss you deeply and passionately, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you even closer, his mouth devouring yours in a way that leaves you breathless and dizzy with need.

Anthony grins against your lips, his hand sliding up to entwine itself in your hair as he deepens the kiss. His free hand pushed your thighs further apart, his fingers tracing your core in a torturously slow manner. "Of course, darling. I’m not finished with you yet." He purred, the sound of his voice alone almost enough to drive you mad with desire.

You moan softly as his fingers glide across your core, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. Your body arching into his touch, eager for more of that delicious friction. "Anthony..." You pant, your voice a low and breathless gasp as your eyes slide shut, your head tilting back in pleasure.

You can feel his fingers continue to work their magic, gently stroking your core in a manner that is both tender and arousing. He watches you closely, taking in the sight of your pleasure-filled expression with a satisfied smile. "You're so beautiful when you come undone like this, love," He rumbles, his voice tinged with a mix of adoration and pure desire. “And all for me.” He smirks down at you.

Anthony lets out a low groan as he enters you, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment as he revels in the sensation of your body around him. His forehead rests against yours, his breath coming out in short, uneven pants as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size. "God, you feel incredible, love." He whispers, his voice husky and filled with desire.

You gasp at the sudden fullness that comes with Anthony inside of you, your body responding to his touch as a wave of pleasure washes over you. His forehead presses against yours as he begins to move inside of you, his hands gently grasping at your hips and thighs in a possessive manner.

He whispers praises and curses in equal measure, his breath coming out in short gasps as he takes in the overwhelming feeling of your body wrapped around him.

He moves his hands down to rest on your hips, his fingers digging into the skin as he sets a steady pace. His mouth trails down your neck, scattering a trail of hot, wet kisses along your throat, his teeth grazing lightly over your skin. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, a soft, breathless plea for more, and he gladly obliges.

Anthony's movements become more intense, his thrusts hard and fast, each one driving you closer to the edge. His name falls from your lips in a continuous stream, a breathless gasp or moan following it each time he slams back into you. He tightens his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into the skin as he continues his relentless assault, his own release building as he brings you closer and closer to your own climax.

———————————————————————

Your eyes shot open, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as you sat up in bed, heart pounding against your chest. Your body was covered in a light layer of sweat, your breath coming out in short, erratic pants. Your bedsheets feel ablaze with the intensity of your emotions. It was just a dream? It had felt so real.

You feel a strong arm tighten around your waist, pulling you back against a warm, solid chest. Benedict's low voice rumbles behind you, groggy but filled with concern. "Darling? What's wrong?" He asks, his breath hot on your neck as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

Your heart falters as you turn and see your husband. The guilt of what you had just imagined hits you in tidal waves. “Nothing, darling. Just a bad dream, go back to sleep.” You reply giving him a kiss on the cheek.

It’s fine. You didn’t actually do anything wrong. You never actually touched Anthony, and you never would. You loved your husband, so why do you feel as guilty as sin?

#anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #Benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton x you #fanfic #taylor swift #guilty as sin?

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leclerc-s · 3 months ago

Text

track five - birds of a feather, we should stick together

series masterlist

SUMMER BREAK 2023

ines_alonso, charles_leclerc, and oscarpiastri posted new stories

what is genuinely wrong with this man?? why is she standing in the middle of the road?? to take a selfie?? surprise shawty!!

maxverstappen1 replied to your story

maxverstappen1 how much time do you have?? ines_alonso GO TO THERAPY!! maxverstappen1 i'll go when you do ines_alonso that's not fair. you have deeper trauma than me. maxverstappen1 bitch please

alex_albon replied to your story

alex_albon this is such a charles thing to do ines_alonso it was oscar actually alex_albon no freaking way oscar did that ines_alonso oh boy oscar has all of you fooled into thinking he's normal.

francesca.cgomes replied to your story

francesca.cgomes you wouldn't understand the need for perfect lighting, you're a man charles_leclerc in the middle of a road?? francesca.cgomes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do leclerc charles_leclerc you're right, i'm so sorry

logansargeant replied to your story

logansargeant mate, what is that picture of charles? oscarpiastri he pissed me off so i took a horrible picture of him logansargeant what the hell did he do to you? oscarpiastri he called my car ugly piece of metal, after i jokingly said i wouldn't be caught dead in a ferrari logansargeant i will never understand how your relationship works oscarpiastri charles and i like to squabble for shits and giggles. inés hates it.

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ines_alonso we're gonna have fun in sun ☀️🎶

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maxverstappen1 i was unaware we were doing a couples holiday?? where's my invite??

alex_albon lost in the post i guess ines_alonso this was 100% an accident maxverstappen1 traitors, both of you

lilymhe let's run away together and leave the boyfriends behind?

ines_alonso deal, when and where? alex_albon oh i bet [redacted] just let out an unholy screech ines_alonso can confirm that is what just happened. he is now pouting on the couch.

user01 are those, high school musical lyrics?

user02 how the fuck did you recognize that? it's the most generic ass caption. user01 i had a huge crush on vanessa hudgens, i still do, so i naturally watched hsm so many times. user03 THOSE ARE HSM LYRICS!! I WOULD RECOGNIZE THEM ANYWHERE!!

alex_albon i see we're not including the picture where [redacted] almost drowned you

fernandoalo_oficial sorry what? ines_alonso he's being dramatic. alex pushed me off the boat and [redacted] helped me up fernandoalo_oficial i know where you live alexander alex_albon you don't? fernandoalo_oficial that's what i want you to think alex_albon i'm actually scared now

charles_leclerc you look angry in that second picture

ines_alonso some girl was flirting with my boyfriend charles_leclerc understandable, have a good day user03 charles said, not my problem user04 well, if the rumors are true, then i want to know was someone flirting with oscar or charles?? user05 probably charles user03 put some respect on my man oscar ❤ liked by arthur_leclerc user04 arthur leclerc, head of the oscar piastri defense club

francesca.cgomes did you guys play mermaids??

ines_alonso you know it but someone (alex) was being a party pooper and didn't want to play logansargeant common alex albon L alex_albon uncalled for logan francesca.cgomes i would play mermaids with you inés ines_alonso marry me 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻💍

sebastianvettel it was nice seeing you inés!

ines_alonso please come back to the grid. we miss you. we need you. sebastianvettel i quite like retirement ines_alonso so did my dad and then he came back

patriciooward wow and no visit??

ines_alonso you literally told me, 'i don't want to see you' patriciooward lies. slander. dishonor on you! dishonor on your cow! ines_alonoso i'm telling rossi! patriciooward I'M TELLING ROSSI!

user06 inés being friends with a bunch of people in different careers will never not be funny to me.

user07 girl is out here collecting friends in different careers like infinity stones user06 it's more like pokémon no? there's only six infinity stones user07 see now that you say that pokémon makes more sense

user08 papaya orange and ferrari red nails?? she's dating charles and oscar confirmed.

user09 nurse, she's out again but also i aspire to be this delusional user08 you'll see that i was right when the confirm it themselves.

oscarpiastri why does it look like you were in four different countries already??

ines_alonso i was only in three oscar! just because your ass is a homebody and prefers to be in australia doesn't mean the rest of us do?? oscarpiastri i was literally in monaco?? bumped into charles and everything maxverstappen1 ahh the proper monaco experience, bumping into prince charles at least once charles_leclerc okay so fuck you max. maxverstappen1 name a time and place baby 😘 kellypiquet 🤨🤨 ines_alonso 🤨🤨 oscarpiastri 🤨🤨 arthur_leclerc 🤨🤨 alex_albon 🤨🤨 fernandoalo_oficial 🤨🤨 danielricciardo 🤨🤨 patriciooward 🤨🤨 f1 🤨🤨 logansargeant 🤨🤨 redbullracing 🤨🤨 lewishamilton 🤨🤨 lorenzotl 🤨🤨 jensonbutton 🤨🤨 scuderiaferrari 🤨🤨 pierregasly 🤨🤨 instagram 🤨🤨 puma 🤨🤨 maxverstappen1 man you guys know what i meant ines_alonso happy pride month i guess 🏳️‍🌈 alex_albon BE WHOOO YOOOOUUU ARRREEE!!! danielricciardo it's okay we support! ALLY!!! maxverstappen1 the three of you can go fuck yourselves

user10 max is never beating the gay allegations after this

user11 this plus the grindr thing, i fear the closet is made of glass user12 to be fair, max does nothing to help the allegations

3 HOURS LATER

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ines_alonso i wanna be your endgame 🩷

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📍 ines_alonso the alternate caption was betty, james, and august if they got their heads out of their ass and dated each other but oscar said that would send people into a coma

user13 THAT'S WHAT WOULD SEND US INTO A COMA?? NOT EVERYTHING ELSE??

user14 girl, not you tagging taylor swift. (also was that for speak now (tv)?)

ines_alonso taylor has to know that i am committed to her and the agony her albums bring me, even when i'm in a relationship (yes it was. nothing better than crying to dear john)

logansargeant IT'S ABOUT FUCKING TIME!! I WAS GOING TO LOSE IT IF YOU DIDN'T ANNOUNCE IT SOON!!

oscarpiastri you're being dramatic logansargeant i'm going to enter a secret relationship and force you to keep it a secret and see how long it takes for you to crack

user15 THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME IS WAS OSCAR AND CHARLES!!

user16 I TOLD YOU GUYS BUT NOOO YOU ALL CALLED ME CRAZY. I EXPECT AN APOLOGY WITH TEARS!! user15 NOT THE FUCKING TIME ANNIE!! user16 IT'S ALWAYS THE RIGHT TIME TO RUB IT IN EVERYONE'S FACES THAT I WAS RIGHT!!

pierregasly THE GROUP CHAT IS FREED FROM THE SHACKLES!!

charles_leclerc calm down calmar, no need to be so dramatic pierregasly DRAMATIC? I KEPT THIS SECRET FOR 2 YEARS CHARLES! 2 YEARS!

alex_albon oh thank god. i can breath again

ines_alonso you're exaggerating albono alex_albon i am not exaggerating, i couldn't handle keeping this a secret any longer.

taylorswift i think the alternate caption would've been much better 😉

ines_alonso holy shit- i died, dead, deceased. rip me. please marry my dad taylorswift tell him to show me the ring first 😂😂 ines_alonso oh my god fernandoalo_oficial you heard the lady!! fernandoalo_oficial please don't feed into her delusions. dumb and dumber do enough of that already charles_leclerc if the lady wants to play mermaids in the middle of the ocean, then we'll play mermaids fernando oscarpiastri yeah fernando, if she wants to play mermaids we'll play mermaids taylorswift oh this adorable

oscarpiastri have i told you that i love you lately?

charles_leclerc funny because this morning you called us 'pain in my ass' oscarpiastri no, i called you that because you set fernando's kitchen on fire again! ines_alonso i love you oscaroo!! charles_leclerc hey!! what about me?? ines_alonso love you charlie

user17 i don't know what's funnier the argument in the comments between oscar, charles, and inés or charles being a pyromaniac when it comes to fernando's kitchen

user18 charles should be banned from the kitchen oscarpiastri we have banned him but he still tries to cook charles_leclerc sebastian would never treat me like this danielricciardo no, he'd treat you worse. that man is controlling in the kitchen and you know it.

scuderiaferrari ❤️🩷🧡

louieee oh baby girl i'm so happy for you and your boys. so glad the three of you finally decided to do this.

ines_alonso thanks for helping max convince me to go on that date 🩷 louieee anything to see that beautiful smile back on your face 🩷

scuderiaferrari admin is definitely shocked and did not catch inés and oscar sneaking into charles' drivers room in australia...last year

mclaren admin over here is also shocked and did not catch charles and inés sneaking out of oscar's drivers room in miami this year... ines_alonso shout out to the best admins ever astonmartinf1 so guess who lied, like a liar ines_alonso no! i swear it's not what it looks like!! astonmartinf1 heart 💔 been 💔 broke 💔 so 💔 many 💔 times 💔

mclaren we call dibs for the next race weekend!!

scuderiaferrari um no 🤓☝️ you guys had her last weekend? astonmartinf1 um actually she's going to be in our garage look what happened last time she was with mclaren scuderiaferrari that was not our fault mclaren according to the footage it was redbullracing maybe she should be in our garage instead scuderiaferrari forget you man mclaren over our dead body astonmartinf1 that can be arranged 😃

patriciooward i would like everyone to know that i have known since the start!!

user19 and when was that pato? patricooward since 2021 user19 2021? I THOUGHT THESE BITCHES STARTED DATING IN 2022?? patriciooward i fear this is common knowledge? user19 TO WHO PATRICIO? TO FUCKING WHO?

user20 oh the mclaren and ferrari teddies. i could die, they're so adorable.

ines_alonso they gave them to me after oscar's mclaren announcement because and i quote, 'you need to have us with you at night when we're not here.' user20 oh that's so fucking cute ines_alonso this was also before they found out i would be working for sky sports

maxverstappen1 glad you're finally happy inés. you deserve happiness 🩷

ines_alonso we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you forcing me to go on that date 🩷 so thanks for that maxie!! charles_leclerc yes, thank you for that max oscarpiastri have i told you how much i like you? as a friend, that is. NO ONE START RUMORS!! maxverstappen1 as if i would ever date you oscarpiastri excuse you, i'm a fucking catch charles_leclerc not that you would ever need to know because that's my boyfriend not yours ines_alonso correction leclerc, *our boyfriend

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charles_leclerc mon soleil et ma lune ❤️ [my sun and my moon]

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oscarpiastri i see who the favorite in this relationship is..

charles_leclerc she doesn't scream at me when i set the kitchen on fire. you do. oscarpiastri IT WAS 3 IN THE MORNING CHARLES! charles_leclerc even during the day you yell at me! oscarpiastri i'm sorry i don't want our apartment to burn down

arthur_leclerc i want everyone to know that i have caught oscar several times wearing the sally shirt

oscarpiastri sometimes inés forces charles to wear the mater shirt so she gets to wear the lightning mcqueen shirt logansargeant it's true, i've seen it happen. ines_alonso i just want to say kachow!

sebastianvettel so you didn't hate them?

charles_leclerc we agreed to never talk about that again sebastian. ines_alonso no this sounds like a conversation we should be having oscarpiastri i agree, tell us everything sebastian. sebastianvettel oh you two should know what i'm talking about charles_leclerc STOP! PLEASE STOP!

user21 their conversations seem to be so fucking unhinged and i love that

user22 honestly the three of them are so fucking unhinged user21 they're so fucking iconic, i love this for them

patriciooward so that's a no on being your fourth?

oscarpiastri according to charles he will only "tolerate one man in obnoxious orange" patriciooward it's papaya? charles_leclerc it's a shade of orange patricio. patriciooward papaya is not orange charles. it's papaya. papaya is it's own thing.

user23 charles breaking his theme for those two? oh he in love love

user24 never thought i would live to see the day but i love it user23 charles has an emotional attachment to that theme, so this is a surprise

scuderiaferrari congratulations to the happy couple!

mclaren they're not married 💀 scuderiaferrari they could be and we wouldn't even know it. astonmartinf1 speak for yourselves, we would definitely know, fernando would never shut up about it.

user25 HIS SUN AND HIS MOON? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???

user26 THAT'S WHAT THAT MEANS?? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME LECLERC?! user25 BESTIE THE TRANSLATION IS RIGHT THERE!! user26 MY FAT FINGERS CAN'T TOUCH THE TRANSLATION BUTTON!!

maxverstappen1 i know for a fact she's holding a red bull can in that photo

charles_leclerc i will NOT be posting red bull propaganda on my page georgerussell63 WHO THE FUCK TAUGHT YOU THAT WORD? oscapiastri i wonder who could've possible done that alex_albon why the fuck are you teaching him the word propaganda in the first place?! oscarpiastri all i said was that the hatred a specific family was spewing was propaganda against him and the word stuck maxverstappen1 sometimes having you around is good

carlossainz55 what the fuck? what the fuck is this?

charles_leclerc so that is who i forgot to block... maxverstappen1 YOU STILL FOLLOW HIM BUT YOU WON'T FOLLOW ME BACK? charles_leclerc YOU FUCKING CHEATED THAT'S WHY! maxverstappen1 HE CHEATED ON HIS EX-GIRLFRIEND! IF ANYONE IS THE CHEATER IT'S HIM! alex_albon CLOCK HIM MAX! louieee oh max emilian verstappen, you make me so fucking proud sometimes.

oscarpiastri this man is acting as if he didn't purposefully tell us to hard launch because he wanted to piss someone off

ines_alonso right, as if he wasn’t losing his shit earlier charles_leclerc is this what my life is now? you two roasting all the time? alex_albon mate, they do this to you in private all the time already logansargeant the group chat has seen some shit man fernandoalo_oficial she call you and oscar bald headed demons user27 yo, what the fuck goes on in their group chat?

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oscarpiastri one of us has set fernando, jenson, sebastian, and lewis' kitchens on fire, but i won't tell you who🧡 hint: it's the one who gets offended when you call him french

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arthur_leclerc why am i always getting dragged into shit?

maxverstappen1 because dumb, dumber, and dumbest have two people each they always drag into shit alex_albon this shit isn't funny anymore. i've been suffering with max for ages it should be louie suffering not me. pierregasly free us! logansargeant you two try being in the junior categories with dumb and dumber as they fail to flirt fredrickvestiofficial never been so happy to not have an f1 seat louieee i think you mean, they have two drivers they drag into shit because i don't go through half the shit you guys do. just ask alex how much he suffers in my place ines_alonso honestly fuck you guys

aussiegrit congrats on going public, even if it took you months to tell me.

oscarpiastri it was over a year and a half actually. aussiegrit i take back my congratulations oscarpiastri sebastian wouldn't treat me like this aussiegrit disowned. sebastianvettel welcome to the family oscar aussiegrit go away, who invited you?

user27 not oscar choosing an old picture of him and inés to one up charles

user28 we were in the trenches hoping they would end up together since 2017 user27 real and now they're together with charles.

jensonbutton charles is no longer allowed back in my home

charles_leclerc i was just there 2 weeks ago? lewishamilton more like you're no longer allowed in our kitchens except for fernando's, burn that down if you wish. fernandoalo_oficial this is why you lost 2021 lewishamilton this is why i beat you in 2007 fernandoalo_oficial WE WERE EQUAL IN POINTS! lewishamilton I STILL GOT 2ND PLACE OVER YOU!!

user29 the chaos these three bring to the world of f1 is unmatched

user30 no cause what the fuck do you mean mark ended up with fernando and seb in another universe? user31 this is my favorite f1 inside joke ever

nicolepiastri is this why you said he was never allowed to cook in the house?

charles_leclerc HE TOLD ME YOU DIDN'T LIKE ANYONE IN YOUR KITCHEN?! oscarpiastri i'd like my family to live, thank you very much charles_leclerc you're a liar piastri nicolepiastri every time, every single time ines_alonso imagine what it's like living with them.

user32 all i see is barbie and her kens

ines_alonso I TOLD THEM I WAS BARBIE! alex_albon to be fair, they said you were racer barbie maxverstappen1 then you proceeded to argue over what racing series racer barbie would be in. pierregasly and you called them bald headed demons, again logansargeant all in our group chat while fernando and daniel squabbled over multi-21 for some reason user32 i think i just shit myself...

hattiepiastri the best part about oscar and charles is their girlfriend

ines_alonso best part about oscar is his sisters and mom 🩷 arthur_leclerc and for charles it's his brothers right? ines_alonso no, it's your mom?? arthur_leclerc mommy issues alonso over here fernandoalo_oficial i know where you live leclerc arthur_leclerc nevermind, i take it back. ines_alonso according to charlie i don't have mommy or daddy issues, i have family issues fernandoalo_oficial i know where he lives too. charles_leclerc she was being self-deprecating! YOU SAID THAT WAS ALLOWED! fernandoalo_oficial i will let it slide, this time.

nicolepiastri finally someone who can help you do your laundry

lorenzotl charles dyed all of their white laundry red. fernandoalo_oficial inés caught the washing machine on fire by not clearing out the lint compartment nicolepiastri god help them

user33 i want to know how often charles and inés are causing oscar headaches

oscarpiastri so often that i've lost count. user33 oh it's that bad? ines_alonso he's a bitchass liar is what he is. i've never caused him problems in my life. that is a lie. charles_leclerc i accidently cause problems. it's not on purpose. oscarpiastri inés nearly fell off the balcony trying to grab one of our cats and charles fell down three flights of stairs, more than 5 times already. user33 holy shit, someone get those two hazard pay or something.

lorenzotl maman wants to know if you three are coming over for dinner?

charles_leclerc this couldn't have been a text? lorenzotl oh i tried, someone (you) kept ignoring me so i came here. ines_alonso i would never do this to you lorenzo oscarpiastri i wouldn't either lorenzo charles_leclerc STOP FLIRTING WITH MY BROTHER! ines_alonso have you seen him?? oscarpiastri i do what i want

user34 with every comment i find out more and more about these three

user35 ines and oscar flirting with lorenzo makes so much sense though user36 i've seen enough, netflix get them their own series. forget dts

landonorris what the hell? is this a joke?

oscarpiastri my relationship is very much not a joke lando. despite what max says maxverstappen1 it was one fucking time oscar, let it fucking go. oscarpiastri no ❤️ logansargeant this is why people think max is a part of your relationship. jensonbutton he's not? oscarpiastri jenson i swear to god- user37 the world could not handle the combined powers of lestappen as a couple ❤ by charles_leclerc and maxverstappen1 ines_alonso WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU LIKING THAT SHIT? maxverstappen1 drama.

ZANDVOORT 2023

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ines_alonso they're fine, charles is just dramatic.

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charles_leclerc i am not dramatic

oscarpiastri you lost it over a pair of socks 2 weeks ago. charles_leclerc they're my favorite socks! ines_alonso they look like all your other socks?? charles_leclerc i know which ones are my favorites, thank you very much. oscarpiastri you're so weird sometimes

maxverstappen1 who the fuck did you grab lunch with? cause that sure as hell isn't me or alex??

ines_alonso i have other friends?? alex_albon that's a funny joke. never joke again. maxverstappen1 you actually don't?? ines_alonso i do. alex_albon what are you cooking baby alonso?? ines_alonso cooking up a diabolical plan to get rid of the sf-23 charles_leclerc for legal reasons this is a joke ines_alonso no it isn't

mclaren please tell charles to not tweet a hate tweet about oscar. we need a break over here.

scuderiaferrari don't worry bestie, we got him on lockdown astonmartinf1 free my boy he ain't do nothing wrong

user38 gay (affectionate)

user39 so true bestie, but this doesn't explain the way charles looks at max?? ines_alonso please don't bring it up. it's a sore subject. maxverstappen1 you're just salty because your man likes me more than you oscarpiastri i am not above throttling a dutch fucker verstappen user40 oscar piastri, i'm sorry, i was not aware of your game

user41 OSCAR PIASTRI CALLED MAX A DUTCH FUCKER??

user42 this man is so chaotic. it's always the quiet ones... user43 he's so unhinged. i love him

landonorris wait, so this wasn't a joke??

alex_albon and the award for never being able to read the room goes too... landonorris CARLOS SAID IT WAS A JOKE?? charles_leclerc do you want to see me shove my tongue down oscar's throat?? will you believe it then?? louieee carlos also said he would never cheat on isa and yet here we are?? landonorris who the fuck invited you?? louieee myself, you winless bitch fernandoalo_oficial as the children say, GAGGED HIM!!

user44 the year is 2054 and people are looking back at how f1 world champions charles leclerc and oscar piastri (it's going to happen, trust me) threatened to shove their tongues down each other's throat...

user45 OKAY!! charles threatened to shove HIS tongue down oscar's throat. not oscar. user44 same difference

MONZA 2023

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ines_alonso no one tells you how hard being a double wag is

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lilymhe just be my wag? you never have to struggle with rosso corsa and papaya ever again.

ines_alonso you're so right oscarpiastri back 🤺 off charles_leclerc i am not gods strongest soldier

user45 girl are you forgetting the aston martin of it all??

user46 aston martin daughter, red bull/williams bestie, ferrari/mclaren girlfriend. inés pick a struggle user47 i wish i had that struggle

charles_leclerc how dare you wear his number but not mine?? dishonorable!

georgerussell63 yeah inés, how could you? where is your honor? alex_albon and no mention of her father?? who won monza in 2010?? no honor! maxverstappen1 how could you do this inés?? danielricciardo people these days have no honor ines_alonso oh shut up, you people are dramatic.

patriciooward maybe you should just come to an indycar race. no struggles there.

charles_leclerc she is one comment away from dumping us. please stop patricio. oscarpiastri they only papaya she'll wear is in support of mclaren not arrow mclaren. ines_alonso it's truly a shame the indy 500 falls on the weekend of the monaco grand prix patriciooward a shame really

user48 i think inés and pato live for terrorizing charles and oscar.

user49 the only man charles and oscar seem to be insecure about is patricio o'ward. and honestly, i get it. louieee right?! where do i find a man like that?? user48 louie is the realest person in these comments honestly.

francesca.cgomes ditch the men and become my wag instead.

ines_alonso done. when do i start? oscarpiastri charles might actually get a heart attack if you keep joking about this arthur_leclerc no one ever died of a heart attack charles_leclerc are you serious right now?

user50 i live for the domestics in the comments between oscar, charles, and inés

user51 truly the highlight of my week when they do that

pierregasly i would appreciate it if you would stop flirting with my girlfriend?? she should only be giggling and kicking her feet over me.

ines_alsonso it's not my fault i'm a better flirter than you?? francesca.cgomes she just gets me charles_leclerc gonna go jump off a bridge brb (jokes) user52 had to clarify before pr got on his ass and the sainz family threw a party

user53 no one tells you how hard it is being a double wag because it's never been done before

user54 she may no longer be on the paddock as a driver but she will slay regardless user55 ones thing about inés alonso is that she will ALWAYS slay!!!

¡taglist!

@minmira95 // @lesliiieeeee // @vroomvroommuppett // @prongsvault // @justtprachisblog // @scuderiadevils // @cataf1 // @chezmardybum // @formulaal // @lilsiz // @norstappenvibes // @ironspdy // @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica // @niniluvsainz // @matchaverse // @fakeikeastore // @theseus-jpg // @six-call // @81folklore // @emppusofi // @luvsforme // @nichmeddar // @loloekie // @luvpedro // @donttouchthegnote // @nothaqks // @inferiusreggie // @mochimommy2002 // @rach3164 // @clove08 // @clove0 // @lillysbigwilly // @jenxjar // @blupblupfish // @thereadinggremlin05 // @meowiarty // @magical-spit // @camdensreg // @laneyspaulding19 // @ocyeanicc // @yelenasloverrrrr // @percervall // @blushmimi // @spilled-coffee-cup // @michelleyw81 // @greantii // @ietss // @yeanoskrrt //

¡not taggable!

@ashlovestoread1411 // @books-thingys-andstuff // @nothanqks // @ale-522 // @aandreea_2005 // @Katness1 // @mgmoore // @Scott-McCall-could-lift-mjolnir // @xxx-betty // @ririyulife // @landonorizzz // @moldyshorts1997 // @itstimeforutogo // @yar16 // @em-andemm // @killjoycra // @◇Heart- Trees◇ //

¡leclerc-s speaks!

charles leclerc is a menace, pass it on. i live for charles being a disaster in the kitchen for this fic. it's the funniest running joke in this fic. what me adding side plots for funsies??? why i would never…(i couldn’t help myself) (this also came out way later than i planned)

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #guilty as sin series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #oscar piastri x female oc

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burntsecrets · 3 months ago

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Guilty as Sin

Pairing: Reader x Eddie Munson

Word Count: 1460

Prompt: Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift

Summary: As the new girl in town, you’ve been warned to stay away from Eddie Munson, the school freak, but the fantasy of being with him consumes your thoughts until you can't tell what’s real and what isn’t.

Warnings: Intense fantasy and obsession, emotional confusion and guilt, unsolicited warnings and social judgment.

You’ve heard it all before. The whispers, the sideways glances, the unsolicited warnings.

"Eddie Munson? Seriously?" they say, with raised eyebrows and skeptical smirks, as if the very idea of him being more than the school freak is incomprehensible. They don’t know him, not really. They only see what they want to see—wild hair, heavy metal shirts, and those infamous D&D campaigns he holds in the Hellfire Club. To them, he’s the guy who didn’t fit, who refuses to blend into the mundane.

But you... you've seen something different.

It’s a fantasy, isn't it? Or maybe it’s more than that. Either way, you can’t shake the thoughts—the ones that creep into your mind late at night when the world is quiet, and you’re alone with only your imagination to keep you company. That’s when Eddie Munson becomes more than just a distant figure at the back of the classroom. In those moments, he’s yours.

You can see it so clearly, sometimes too clearly. It feels real, almost as if your mind is playing tricks on you. The way he’d hold your hand under the table, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. The way his voice would drop when he talks to you, low and rough, as if every word is a secret shared just between the two of you. His laughter—God, his laughter—ringing in your ears, free and genuine, breaking through the walls you’ve built around yourself.

You can imagine what they would say if they knew. The judgment, the disbelief. They’ve already told you who Eddie is supposed to be—a troublemaker, a loser, not boyfriend material. But they don’t know him. They don’t know the way his eyes soften when he thinks no one’s looking or how he’s always watching out for the ones who are as out of place as he is. You’ve seen it—those moments where the mask slips and the real Eddie shines through.

Sometimes, you think you’re losing it. The lines blur between what’s real and what’s imagined, and you can’t help but wonder... are these just fantasies, or are they memories? Did you really feel his lips brush against yours one day, soft and hesitant, or was that just another one of your wild daydreams? You remember the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way your heart raced when he whispered your name, but no... that couldn’t have happened. Could it?

It’s all in your mind. You’re drowning in the fantasy of him, and you let yourself sink deeper because reality—without him—is too dull, too empty. You picture him standing in front of you, sending a shiver down your spine as he leans in close, his breath warm against your skin. You’ve never kissed him, not really, but you imagine it every time you close your eyes. Messy top lip kiss. How you long for it, crave it, even though you’ve never felt it for real. But it doesn’t matter, does it? Because in your head, you’ve already done it all.

They don’t understand. The guilt you feel, the way your heart aches every time someone tells you to forget him. But how can you forget someone who’s carved himself so deeply into your thoughts, into your very being? How can you be guilty as sin for something that’s never happened yet feels more real than anything else?

There’s a constant tug-of-war between what you want and what you’re allowed to have. Every day feels like you’re standing at the edge, staring down at the abyss, wondering if you should take that leap. But then you think of him—Eddie—and you know you’d jump, without hesitation, if it meant being with him. Even if it’s just in your mind.

You keep recalling things you never did. The stolen glances across the room, the way he’d smile at you when no one else was watching. The way you feel his hands on your waist, his lips against your ear, even though he’s never touched you. How can you be so sure it hasn’t happened? Because every time you think of him, it feels like you’re slipping, falling back into that fantasy, deeper and deeper until you can’t tell where it ends.

Maybe that’s why it feels so dangerous. You imagine the world finding out, the judgment that would rain down on you. They’d crucify you for loving him, for daring to dream of something different, something real. What if he’s written 'mine' on my upper thigh, only in my mind? The thought makes you shiver because it feels true. It feels like something only you know, something sacred, even if it exists only in the corners of your mind.

And yet, you can’t stop. You won’t stop. Even if it’s all make-believe, it’s the only thing that makes sense, the only thing that feels right. You’ve chosen him, Eddie Munson, even if the rest of the world thinks you’re insane. You’ve screamed his name in the dead of night, whispered his secrets into the darkness, and you’ve built a world where it’s just the two of you.

So what if it’s not real? It’s real enough. Without ever touching his skin, you know what it’s like to be his. You’ve built your desires, your longings, into something that feels like a vow, a promise neither of you will ever break. You don’t need to touch him to know what it would be like. You already know.

And then it happens. You’re standing at your locker, spinning the dial absentmindedly, lost in your thoughts of him again. It’s the same fantasy as always—you imagine him walking up to you, leaning against the lockers with that lazy grin that makes your knees weak. You picture him teasing you, something playful in his voice as he inches closer until his lips are just inches from yours. It’s a scene you’ve replayed a hundred times in your head.

This is where it always happens. Where you lose yourself in the daydream, where the fantasy becomes so vivid you almost forget it isn’t real. You can practically feel his presence beside you, smell the faint scent of cigarettes and leather, his warmth cutting through the cold, distant reality of the school hallways.

And then, there’s a voice.

“Hey, new girl,” he says, voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your heart skips, the sensation so real it almost startles you. You blink, forcing yourself to remember that this is just another dream, just another figment of your imagination. You’ve been here before, conjuring him up in the quiet spaces of your mind, letting yourself believe, if only for a moment, that he’s really standing in front of you. But this time, it’s different. There’s something about the way his eyes lock onto yours, intense and knowing. Something about the smirk that curls at the edge of his lips.

It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. It has to be.

But when he leans in closer, your breath hitches. You feel the warmth of his body, the soft brush of his lips as he whispers something you can’t quite hear. The world around you blurs, and for a second, you forget what’s real and what isn’t.

And before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you. Your lips press against his—tentative, soft at first, almost like you’re testing the boundary between reality and fantasy. But he’s warm, solid. You feel the way he kisses you back, his hand brushing against your cheek, pulling you deeper into the moment.

The bell rings, a sharp sound cutting through the haze, and you pull back, breathless. Your heart pounds in your chest, and for a split second, you look into his eyes, waiting for the illusion to shatter, for the fantasy to slip away as it always does.

But he doesn’t fade. He stands there, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face.

“Took you long enough,” he says, his voice teasing, but there’s something deeper in his tone, something that sends another shiver down your spine.

You let out a shaky laugh, stepping back, still half-convinced that the world will snap back into focus and you’ll be standing alone, as you always are. You turn, walking away as your heart continues to race, the kiss still tingling on your lips. You tell yourself it wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real.

But then, from across the hall, Eddie watches you go, his smile still lingering on his lips. He touches his mouth like he’s savoring the kiss, shaking his head slightly as if he can’t believe it just happened, either.

And as you disappear into the crowd, the truth lingers in the air—this time, it wasn’t a fantasy.

This time, it was real.

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ziggystqrdust · 5 months ago

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i had a dream about you // alucinatio by alexmeg

“He stares at the ceiling, blinking blankly every now and then, until his eyes close and he falls asleep.”

hey so what the fuck

bonus

caption translation: “you’re an angst enjoyer”

video translation: “that feeling like where it hurts so much but it feels good, you know that feeling when “aww im so sad cuz they didnt end up together😞” but its also satisfying in a way that they didnt end up together😁”

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potatoplace · 3 months ago

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Guilty As Sin?

Feysand, technically Feylin too

kinktober day 6 | mind sex, cheating

kinktober '24 masterlist | feysand masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre is laying in bed after a disappointing night with Tamlin, and decides to take matters into her own hands. It's too bad for her that the hand she chooses has a captive audience. And that her mind can't seem to stay away from a certain High Lord

Warnings: kinda like dub con cause Rhys gently convinces Feyre to do the mental tango together. Also smut. And cheating. I think that's it.

Words: ~1.7k

Author's Note: here's day 6 of kinktober! I'm imagining this taking place like a week after Feyre returns from her first visit to the Night Court. And the ending... awe. I like this one. I hope you guys like it too!

18+ only pls

🩵💜🩵💜🩵

Feyre was laying in bed next to Tamlin, still yearning for his touch. But he was asleep, because he had finished. While Feyre was left staring at the ceiling, wishing for him to wake up and continue where Feyre was still dangling.

She turned her head to the side, only to be met with the back of his head. A sigh left her lips.

Feyre supposed that if her soon to be husband wouldn’t do it, then she could, and snuck her left hand down between her thighs. She was wet, between her arousal and Tamlin’s seed, making it easy for her to coat her fingers and start slowly swirling two over her clit.

The first brush of her fingers was wonderful, and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning and waking Tamlin.

She didn’t want him to feel… Lesser for not getting her to finish with him.

So her lip stayed tucked between her teeth as she moved her fingers faster, clenching around nothing. Feyre worked her fingers as well as she could but nothing was quite enough to push her over the edge. Her mind flashed to what had aroused her recently. Tamlin’s gleaming muscles when she had been watching him and Lucien spar bare chested a few days ago. The way she had looked in the lingerie picked out for her in the Night Court. The scent of sea and-

No. Not that. Never that.

Feyre shifted her thoughts back to when she had been watching Tamlin and Lucien, how much she had wanted to run over and pounce on him in broad daylight, regardless of who was watching.

How much he would have enjoyed that, had no one else been around to see them.

She was nearly there when a memory of violet eyes, so close to hers as he pinned her against a wall and scented her, how his eyes had narrowed at her scent changing after being held there by him.

No.

She couldn’t think of him. Not now. Not ever.

She drew her mind instead to the last time her and Tamlin had coupled outdoors, before… everything. He had taken her against a tree, rough back biting into her back through the fabric of her dress, and Feyre was so, so close, when a velvety voice cut through her thoughts.

Good evening, Feyre darling. Can’t sleep? His voice was low, almost sleepy as he spoke mind to mind with her.

Fuck off Rhysand, Feyre hissed at him, pulling her hand away from her core.

And why would I do that when I was just about to see the climax of the show?

Feyre’s cheeks flushed hotter than they ever had in this new body of hers. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Oh? Rhysand asked. I think that left hand of yours knows exactly what I’m talking about, darling.

Feyre’s body heated at being caught, at not having thought about that damned bargain tattoo, how that stupid eye in her palm reported everything back to the High Lord of Night. I don’t think it does.

So you weren’t just rubbing your aching clit and trying to finish yourself off after that beast couldn’t do it for you? Feyre gasped at his words, at the heat that his voice pushed through her veins. And you weren’t desperately trying to not think of me, is that it, Feyre?

Go fuck yourself, Feyre hissed, and attempted to shut him out of her mind.

Why would I do that when I’d much rather fuck you, darling?

Feyre clenched around nothing at his words, the promises his voice held, and her left hand twitched, almost flashing down to return to its place between her thighs.

You can lie to yourself all you want, but I can feel your desire, Feyre. Just give in, hmm? It’s not real, anyways, Rhysand whispered into her mind, though it felt like he was speaking directly into her ear, and she shivered at the sensation. Let me make you cum, darling.

All of Feyre’s rational thinking went out the door when he stated it like that, and her overwhelming need took over instead.

She melted into his mental hold, sinking into his mind as he helped guide her in, and it took the shape of a darkened bedroom, with Feyre already laying naked atop black silk sheets with Rhysand standing at the foot of the bed, clad in a fine black suit and with his signature silver stitching gleaming, even in his mind.

“Such a good girl, Feyre. Are you going to keep being good?” Rhysand asked in a low, lust filled tone. Feyre nodded her head. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head at her. “Use your words, Feyre. Just this once, and then all you have to do is scream my name.” The way he was smirking down at her nearly had her revoking her acceptance, but then his citrus and sea scent washed over her, reminding her of the inferno raging within her.

“Yes,” Feyre breathed, and Rhysand was on her in an instant, his mouth covering hers in a bruising kiss as a hand snaked down between her legs, fingers dipping in an inch before moving up to circle her clit. Feyre moaned into his mouth at the first brush of his fingers, back already arching up into his solid chest.

She was so sensitive already from how many times she’d nearly toppled over the brink. And being in Rhysand’s mind likely didn’t help with that.

Or maybe it was helping.

Within three minutes he had worked her back up, and just before she came he pulled his mouth off of hers, letting her loud moans echo throughout their minds as she lost herself to the waves of pleasure washing over her as his fingers kept moving, drawing it out for her.

Feyre thought she could be floating when she felt Rhysand shift down the bed, moving to settle his shoulders between her thighs. His wicked grin was her only earning before his mouth was in her, devouring the slick that was leaking from her.

And it felt so, incredibly real.

The warmth and wetness of his tongue lapping at her clit was heaven, and she resisted the urge to put her hands in his thick hair, fisting them in the sheets instead.

His violet eyes tracked the movements, then flicked up to meet her gaze. They narrowed slightly before Rhys lightly scraped his teeth against her sensitive bud, her hands instinctively flying to his hair. Rhysand’s lifted off her for only a moment to flash a feline grin at her, and then his mouth was around her clit again, two fingers pushing into her.

“F-fuck,” Feyre moaned, her cunt clenching around his thick digits. He pushed them in and out slowly, letting Feyre get used to the stretch before adding a third.

At which point Feyre felt like she was going to combust.

Between his fingers and his stupid, skilled tongue she was surfing on waves of pleasure, not quite an orgasm but close enough to have Feyre’s legs shaking around his broad shoulders.

A brush of Rhysand’s fingers against the sweet spot inside of her had a whine ripping from her lips without warning, and Rhysand pulled his mouth away from her, Feyre’s hands still fisted around his locks. He grinned up at her and curled his fingers against the sensitive flesh again, his mouth widening when Feyre whined again, even louder this time.

“Is that the spot, darling?” He asked, already knowing the answer as he rocked his fingers against it, eyes lighting up when Feyre’s hands pulled him back down.

“No more talk- ing,” Feyre groaned, stuttering when Rhysand’s lips wrapped around her clit with a renewed vigor, his fingers curling against that spot over, and over, and over, driving Feyre to the brink in the blink of an eye.

He sucked, hard, on her clit, and her back arched into him, hips raising against his face before collapsing. “Rhysand!” Feyre screamed as she came, holding his face to her core as her continued lapping at her clit, drowning her in wave after wave of pleasure.

When he finally pulled away from her core, he moved up the bed to capture her mouth in a heated kiss.

“Mine,” he growled against her lips once they parted, their foreheads resting together.

Feyre didn’t have the energy to fight the statement, her legs still shaking slightly as tiny aftershocks continued to pulse through her.

Instead, she allowed him to pull her naked, mental body against his, her head on his chest, listening to a steady heartbeat. She had nearly drifted off when she felt the bed shift.

The real bed.

Her bed. With Tamlin.

Guilt flooded Feyre’s senses as she came back to her body, the overwhelming scent of her desire flooding the room.

What did I just do?!

Tamlin shifted again, and was laying on his back now.

Feyre felt disgusted with herself.

Darling? Still can’t sleep? Rhysand’s voice echoed through her head.

Feyre hesitated before answering. No matter what, she had already betrayed Tamlin. And if she didn’t ask Rhysand for help… She wouldn’t get any sleep. And she’d had enough of those nights to last multiple lifetimes, at this point.

No, she whispered into the void between their minds.

Come here.

So she let him pull her back into his mind, and this time she was in a violet nightgown, and Rhysand in a pair of black sweatpants and shirtless. They were laying on the bed next to each other, underneath the sheets.

“Come here, darling,” Rhysand said, pulling her into his side, her head on his chest once more. She took a greedy lungful of his scent, her eyes closing as it washed over her. “That’s it, snuggle up. You just needed some physical touch to sleep, hmm?”

Feyre nodded her head and yawned. Maybe that really was all she needed. She wrapped an arm over his chest and swung a leg over his, getting as comfortable as she could.

And that was very, very comfortable.

So comfortable, in fact, that Feyre drifted off within five minutes, all worries of betrayal and her guilt left in her physical body.

It was the best night’s sleep she had had since being brought back.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff

#guilty as sin?#feysand #feysand smut #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #kinktober #kinktober '24 #acotar kinktober #kinktober 2024 #feyre #feyre archeron #rhys #rhysand #feyre x rhys #feyre x rhysand #smut #tato writes

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saltybenchday · 6 months ago

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Things you will find in this fic:

infidelity (like. a lot)

at least one threesome

bisexual panic that goes both ways

Things you will ✨NOT✨ find in this fic:

lasting heartbreak

in depth character development that makes you believe they really are good people deep down and not just three horny idiots in a trench coat therapists office

ethics of any kind

Coming soon!

Guilty as Sin?

Jamie and Claire Fraser are having marriage problems. Thankfully, Dr. Grey is there to help.

This messy, slutty little modern AU is full of strange crushes, bad 80s dance remixes, and not one ounce of self control anywhere in sight.

#did I make this post instead of editing the first chapter? yup why do you ask #is talking about my fic more fun than writing it? I decline to answer that question #holly why are you ‘advertising' this fic like its a novel you’re about to publish when its actually just smut that makes you giggle?#procrastination my friend. procrastination.#guilty as sin fic #lord john grey #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #John/jamie/claire #jjc #ot3

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rainbow-nerdss · 22 days ago

Note

🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

💕for you!

💕💕💕thank you!!!

18 sentences of Guilty as Sin! this will be finished eventually!!

Eddie stays out of sight. “What do you want me to say?” Buck’s voice is clearer now, raised more than it had been before. “Anything, would be great. The truth, maybe.” “I told you the truth, Tommy. It’s not my fault you won’t believe me.” “Seriously? You expect me to believe you’ve never even thought about it?” “You asked whether anything happened. The answer is no.” “So you have thought about it, then.” “Tommy, please, I—” Eddie turns on his heel. He shouldn’t be hearing this. He hightails it up the stairs, intercepting Chimney about halfway down. He grabs him by the arm and drags him back up. “What the—” “Trust me, you do not want to be down there right now.” Chimney opens his mouth to argue, but Eddie shakes his head. A moment later, Buck storms upstairs, visibly upset. He freezes when he sees them there.

Make me Write!

#my writing #guilty as sin fic

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coffeeshades · 4 months ago

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i posted that fic half asleep, let me know if there’s a typo or something lol 😭😭

#guilty as sin fic #my writing

0 notes

myladybelle · 7 months ago

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𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | series masterlist [ongoing]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig ⤷ (tennis player & tashi’s best friend reader) 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers spoilers, challengers content warnings, swearing, controlling mother, descriptions of anxiety, use of y/n 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 102.4k (so far) ➞ ao3 (this ver.) | ao3 (oc ver.) | wattpad (this ver.) | wattpad (oc ver.)

#challengers #challengers x reader #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #mike faist x reader #josh o connor x reader #challengers fanfic #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #fic: guilty as sin?

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guess-my-next-obsession · 7 months ago

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Guilty as Sin? — Chapter Seven

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, professor/student dynamic, oral (m!rec}, alcohol consumption, essentially just porn with plot, these two are in LOVE babes

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist

The restaurant Javi had picked out was attached to the lake resort, a casual steakhouse with balcony seating that overlooked the water. You watched the yellow lights from the resort dance across the soft ripples on the lake a story below in between glances at Javier. He’d chosen a simple navy blue sweater and dark jeans for tonight, a casual and absolutely fucking delicious sight that had you reaching for your wine to quell your thirst. Javier scanned the menu that he held in one hand while intertwining his fingers with yours across the table, the gesture doing little to settle the rapid beat of your heart.

Beyond the sex—which was certainly the best you’d ever had in your life—there was so much to love about him. He was kind, generous, an active listener, intelligent, and funny when he wanted to be, all put together in a stunningly masculine package that had your thighs squeezing together every time his dark eyes found you staring.

“What?” he asked, one corner of his mouth tilting up slightly. He brought your joined hands over to his lips, placing a gentle kiss over your knuckles before bringing it back to the table.

“You’re just very nice to look at,” you said, biting your lip to try and contain your smile. Javier laid his menu down before moving chairs to come sit directly beside you. You leaned into him, resting your chin on his shoulder as you shared your menu with him. “What looks good?”

“You,” he murmured into your ear before giving your temple a sweet kiss. “I’ve been trying to read this damn menu for ten minutes now, but I keep getting distracted.”

“Wonder why.” You shrugged, lowering your hand to his thigh just to feel him tense.

Javier leaned into your ear again, whispering, “Are you trying to make me lose my mind? Because it’s working.”

You grinned, completely lost in this blissful bubble the two of you had managed to create against all odds. “You know, I’m fine with ordering room service instead.”

Javier leaned back, raising his brow at you. “I was supposed to be giving you your first good date. What happened to that, you seductress?”

“Guess you have a point,” you said, giving him a soft smile as you carded your fingers through his hair.

“I usually do,” he quipped.

“On the other hand…” You smirked, reaching for his hand as it rested on his knee. Sliding his warm palm up your jean clad thigh—you were forced to change after Javi destroyed your tights—you locked eyes with him as you guided his hand between your thighs. “You should know I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Javi let out a soft, lustful sigh at your warmth. He cursed as he leaned in, holding your face in his free hand. You hummed into the kiss, feeling grateful that no one else had chosen to sit out in the brisk early fall air tonight. No, it was just you and him, the stars on the water, and a whole mess of feelings.

“Fuck, as much as I want to bend you over this table right now, we should probably stop before the waiter catches us,” he mumbled against your lips, sliding his hand away from your center and letting it rest above your knee with a gentle squeeze. He sat back in his chair, lifting the menu back into view while you eyed him with lust drunk eyes. “I can feel you undressing me with your eyes, cariño.”

“I could be undressing you with my hands,” you replied, turning away from him with a smitten grin. “But fine. I guess I’ll just have to pester you with more questions to distract myself.”

“I guess you will,” he said, fighting back a smile.

“Alright,” you laughed, biting your lip as you watched him study the menu. “How many girlfriends have you had?”

Javier raised a brow at you. “Serious ones?”

“Sure,” you shrugged.

“One,” he replied. “Through high school until the end of my undergrad degree.”

“So you’ve been single all this time?” You eyed him suspiciously, giving him a playful side eye.

“There something wrong with that?” he asked, leaning forward into your space, his gaze locked on your lips. “If I wasn’t single all this time then I never would’ve gotten to meet you.”

“What a line,” you laughed, earning a dimpled smile from Javi. “What happened between you and your ex?”

“She wanted more than what I could give at the time,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. “I was young and just getting started in the world. She wanted marriage and a family, which I did too, just…not at twenty-three. I tried to do it, though. Proposed and everything, but as the months ticked by, I just…couldn’t. So I called it off, left town, and started my career.”

“Do you ever regret it?” you asked, no judgment to be found in your tone, just genuine curiosity. Javier shook his head, giving your knee a squeeze.

“No,” he said. “I meant it when I said if my life hadn’t played out this way, I wouldn’t be here. And here is somewhere I really fucking love being.”

You lifted your hand to his chin, pulling him in for another kiss. It seemed like you’d never get tired of this wanting you felt every time you so much as looked at him, let alone when he goes and says shit like that.

“Alright, are we ready to order?” The waiter appeared out of nowhere, catching the two of you mid-makeout. You pulled away from Javi with a bashful smile, reaching for the menu and choosing the first entree that sounded good. Javier opted to have the same, only switching out your choice of mashed potatoes for a baked potato.

The waiter left, taking the useless menus with him. “Interesting choice with the baked potato.”

“What?” he chuckled. “They’re the best way to have a potato.”

“Strongly disagree,” you gasped, clutching your non-existent pearls. “Fries are the best, mashed potatoes are second, and a baked potato might come in at like number five.”

“So this is our first argument,” he laughed. “I’ll let you have this one.”

“And the next, and the one after that,” you added, leaning back into him like a moth drawn to a flame.

“You can have them all as long as you keep looking at me like that,” he murmured, ghosting his lips over yours. You laughed, pecking his lips while wearing a lovesick smile. “So now that you got to ask—“

“Oh no,” you chuckled, settling back into your seat and bringing your drink up for a sip.

“How many serious relationships have you had?”

“One, really,” you said, scrunching your nose at the thought of Micah. “Serial cheater, sometimes called me mommy in bed, all around horrible.”

“Mommy?” Javier snorted as he took a sip of his beer. “Jesus. I’m starting to wonder whether it’s just your generation of men that suck this bad or if you just have really shitty luck.”

“You’re one of one, Javier Peña,” you said. “That’s why I’m hoping to keep you around.”

Javier smiled, taking a long sip from his beer. “Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

“No?” you asked, grinning against the rim of your wine glass. “Not even if I told you I’ve been known to snore every now and again?”

“Now that changes things,” he said, eyeing you in mock consideration. “I think I’ll learn to live with it. Or I’ll just get some earplugs.”

“Anything I need to be warned about?”

“I smoke and I’m a terrible cook,” he replied. “Also a bit of an insomniac, but it’s not like I’ll be getting any sleep anyways with all your snoring.”

“A match made in heaven,” you mused. “Aside from the forced-to-keep-it-a-secret part.”

“Maybe not for much longer,” he said, nervously glancing at his lap.

“What do you mean?” you chuckled.

“I mean…I got a job offer from the DA’s office,” he replied, his eyes bouncing back and forth between yours as he watched you take in this incredibly exciting news. “And I know it’s early, and things aren’t, you know, official with us, but I was already considering quitting teaching before meeting you, and now…”

“And now?” you asked, your voice hardly louder than a whisper. Javier took in a deep, steadying breath and gave you a boyish smile that brought out a dimple.

“And now all I want to do is find a way for us to be together without all this sneaking around and shit,” he shrugged. “I didn’t want to tell you to put any pressure on you or anything, but regardless of where you and I stand, I think I’m gonna take the offer.”

“When would you start?” you asked, tracing your fingertip along the rim of the glass as you tried to comprehend the fact that this man was willing to switch careers in order to be with you.

It had only taken him two months of knowing you to decide that you were worth that much, even if he didn’t know where the two of you stood. The thought alone was enough to have you ready to hand your heart over.

“After the semester ends,” he replied, his knee bouncing under the table as he continued to study your reaction. “I can’t tell what you’re thinking, so could you put me out of my misery and—“

“Javi, I…” You laughed, shaking your head at the miracle that was Javier Peña. “I’d do this thing in secret for a lifetime as long as it meant I got to do it with you, but the idea of getting to kiss you in public or even just hold your hand…it feels like a dream. So that’s what I’m thinking, that you are a really fucking good dream I don’t want to wake up from.”

Javier leaned in, giving you a kiss. “So I’ll take that to mean you want to do this thing for real?”

You laughed, nodding as you gave his lips another soft peck.

“All of it. Snoring and burnt dinners, included.”

You clung to Javi’s arm as you made your way out of the restaurant after dinner, tipsy on wine and Javier’s smile. He’d been whispering nothing but filth into your ear since he asked for the check, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear as you walked down the hall to your suite.

“You’re talking a big game,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Maybe I have some plans of my own.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow as he slid the key card out of his pocket. “And what are these plans of yours?”

“Well, to start…I’d like to get you out of these clothes,” you said, biting your lip.

“That’s doable,” he smirked, turning the handle of the door and swinging it open while keeping his eyes on yours. “Then what, hermosa?”

“Well,” you started, leading him into the room just to turn around and back him against the door as he let it click shut behind him. You slid your hands down his stomach to palm him through his jeans. “You’ve gotten to taste me a few times now, but I still haven’t gotten to taste you.”

Javier groaned, settling his hands on either side of your face as he kissed you. You moaned into it, your hands steady as they undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. Javier hissed, breaking the kiss to look down as you took him in your hand and gave him a teasing stroke.

“Is that what you want, Javi?” you purred, using your free hand to guide his eyes back to yours. Javi looked at you like you held the world in your hands, his brows laced together and lips parted in reverence as you gave him another teasingly slow pump. “You want my lips around—“

Javier cut you off with a groan, settling his hands on your hips as he walked you backwards into the room with his lips devouring your own. You smiled into the kiss, fighting back a laugh as he tripped over your feet, almost sending the two of you onto the carpeted floor.

“You’re so fucking…” His words trailed off as he let his hands travel up your curves before cupping the weight of your breasts in each. Your laughter faded into a soft gasp as he slid his hands back town to give your ass a squeeze, seemingly unable to decide on what he wanted to worship more. “You’re going to ruin me for all women.”

“Only fair seeing as you’ve ruined me for all men and myself, remember?” Javier laughed, kissing you once before stepping back to shed his clothes. You sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your elbows as you watched him undress. “You’re so nice to look at, Javi.”

He laughed, taking his length in hand and stroking it while you devoured the sight with lust-blown pupils. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Looks like you’re already blushing,” you quipped, leaning forward to take over for him, stroking your hand up and down his angry arousal. “Is this all for me, Javi?”

He nodded, licking his lips as he watched you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. He stroked his thumb over your cheek as you stared up at him with an innocent look in your eyes—or, as innocent as you could look while stroking his dick. “Fuck. You’re so beautiful, baby.”

“Yeah?” You keened at the compliment, a love-starved woman being fed for the first time in years. “Do you think I’ll look as beautiful with my lips wrapped around your cock?”

Javier groaned, his cock twitching at the question. “How about you show me?”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his reddened tip, the barely there touch causing his stomach to clench. Dragging the tip of your flattened tongue from base to tip, you wrapped your lips around him just far enough to tease before releasing him with a pop. “On the bed.”

Javier raised an eyebrow at you but obeyed, positioning himself on his back in the middle of the giant mattress. “You like being the one in control, hermosa?”

You climbed onto the bed, sitting between his thighs and wrapping your fist around his base. “Sometimes.”

“Then go ahead,” he urged with a smile. “Take control, baby. It’s all yours.”

You smirked, shuffling down to lay on your stomach as you twisted your hand up and down his throbbing cock just to hear him let out a soft hiss. Bringing your lips to his balls, you gave them a suck, your thumb swiping over the precum that leaked from his tip.

“Fuck,” he moaned, letting his head fall back against the pillow.

You released his balls with a pop, dragging your tongue up his shaft before taking him in deep until you were kissing your closed fist. You worked in tandem with your strokes, flattening your tongue along the underside of his cock as you bobbed up your head and down. Your spit-slick hand followed your lips with a firm squeeze that had his thighs twitching every time you reached his sensitive head.

“Shit, cariño,” he hissed, one hand cupping your jaw as he sat up on one elbow to watch you. You stared into those brown eyes that reminded you of warm molasses, relishing in every grunt and groan you pulled from his perfectly bowed lips.

You could’ve been there for a minute or an hour, a moment or a lifetime, but this thing between the two of you seemed to defy the laws of space and time. You weren’t hiding out in a hotel room counting the minutes until you’d have to return to secrecy. No, you were simply a woman worshiping the man who’d revived your faith in goodness, in love.

“Baby,” he moaned, brows furrowed and eyes fluttering with every sinful gluck as you swallowed him down your throat. “Baby, shit. H-hold on. I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.“

“I want you to,” you said, your voice hoarse and desperate.

Javier shuddered, nodding his head as he watched you take him back into your mouth, his hands now gripping the sheets as you increased your efforts. “Fuck. Fuck, I’m…fuck.”

You hummed, running your free hand over the expanse of his stomach as you held him in deep, letting him come down your throat. He tasted slightly salty, slightly sweet, and surprisingly addictive. You’d never particularly enjoyed the taste of someone else, but be it love or lust or sheer infatuation, you really fucking enjoyed Javi’s.

“Baby, fuck,” he rasped, running his hand over your hair as you cleaned his sensitive cock with your tongue, making a show of it. “Come up here so I can kiss those fucking lips.”

“But…I just—“

“Do I look like I give a fuck about that?” he asked, a rhetorical question given the raise of his eyebrow as he stared you down. “Come here, hermosa.”

You crawled up his body, leaving kisses up his stomach, chest, and neck before hesitantly ghosting your lips over his. “You’re sure it’s not gross?”

“Do you think it’s gross to kiss me after I eat your pussy?” he asked, placing a feather light kiss against your lips.

“No, I think it’s hot,” you replied, your voice a husky whisper.

“Mmhm,” he hummed, lifting his hand to rest on the curve of your jaw. “Dame un beso.”

You smiled, letting out a soft laugh as you leaned in to kiss him exactly how he wanted it. Deep, slow, and so fucking sexy you couldn’t help but grind your panty-covered core against his softened length.

“You’re too clothed,” he murmured against your lips, his hands sliding down to your ass to palm you through your jeans.

“Mm,” you hummed, kissing your way down his neck. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?” he asked, reaching between your thighs to put some pressure on your clit as you rocked against his hand.

“Leaving my mark,” you moaned, sucking on the soft skin where his shoulder met his neck. Low enough to hide beneath a collar during class, but high enough to give you glimpses of it when you got him alone.

Javier hissed, rolling you onto your back. You laughed, combing your fingers through his hair as he unbuttoned your jeans and peeled them off your legs. He stared at the wet spot on your panties, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Now I get to leave a few marks.”

“But I need to shower,” you said, coaxing his eyes back to yours.

“Am I invited?” he asked, hiking up the hem of your sweater to place soft kisses across your stomach. Something about him worshiping the part that brought you the most insecurity was so healing, especially after a relationship full of cruel criticism of your body.

“You’re always invited,” you replied, trying to calm the pounding in your chest.

“Alright,” he said, sitting back onto his knees. “I can leave my mark in the shower and then come back and do it again in this bed. And then in my bed, in your bed, in any fucking room I can get you alone in.”

“I’ll be covered in hickeys, then,” you laughed.

“I’ll only leave them where you and I can see,” he promised. “And only when you want me to.”

“You’re a dream,” you mused, pulling him back down for another kiss that would haunt your memories long after you died.

“How are we gonna do this once we go back tomorrow?” you asked, tracing your initials across his bare chest as you laid in the darkness with him. He’s just devoted an hour to getting you to climax after climax, the shower you took earlier only acting as a prelude to what he had planned for the bed. “Once I’m back to being your student, I mean.”

“We’ll have to be discreet,” he said, shifting to lay on his side, his elbow propping up his head. “But besides that…it’s just a normal relationship.”

“Except people in normal relationships can go out and not worry about being seen together,” you countered with a half-smile.

It wasn’t that you cared about going out or anything like that, but there was a gnawing insecurity that perhaps over time Javi would grow tired of the sneaking around and look for someone who he could have a normal life with, one that didn’t involve this much careful planning.

“It’s only for a few more months,” he assured, stroking his hand up and down your side. “Until then, we’ll just have to find ways to entertain ourselves while we hole up together. I already have a few ideas.”

“I bet I can guess exactly what kind of ideas are floating around up there,” you said, lightly tapping your finger against his temple. Javier moved to nip at your finger, earning a laugh.

“I was actually talking about showing you my Lego collection,” he returned with a smirk. “I just got the Death Star. Kind of a big deal.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” You giggled as he nodded.

“Dead serious,” he replied with a laugh. “It’s a good way to busy the mind, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.”

“Does your mind need busying?” His smile faded into something more somber.

“Sometimes,” he confessed. “I saw a lot of stuff with the DEA, and sometimes the memories come back with a vengeance. Instead of chainsmoking and whoring around like I used to do, I choose to block out those memories with building the fucking Death Star. Healthy, right?

You gave him an empathetic smile, relating to the sadness in his eyes that he tried to cover up with humor. You, too, had a lot of memories to avoid touching, although they likely didn’t hold a candle to the shit he must’ve dealt with. Nevertheless, like calls to like. “I think it’s very healthy, actually. So healthy, in fact, that you’ve convinced me to join you. So it’s too late to take back your invitation, basically.”

Javier laughed, a bit of light fighting back against the darkness in his eyes as he leaned in to give you a chaste kiss.

“I…” He stopped himself, shaking his head as he stared into your eyes. “Nevermind.”

“What?” you laughed.

“I just…I almost said something I have no business saying,” he shrugged. “The kind of thing that’s supposed to take longer than this to feel, so I’ll wait, but…I feel it.”

You knew the feeling well, the four letter word dancing on the tip of your tongue all night. But it was too soon for that, too soon for confessions as heavy as the one that weighed on your heart. You were falling in love with him, quickly and helplessly and without thinking of what it would feel like when you finally hit the ground.

“Me too,” you said instead.

For now, it would have to be enough.

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