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pedroscurls · 4 months ago

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secret crushes (one-shot)

summary: you've known hugh for years, having not only a personal friendship with him, but also a professional one. then, ryan decides to play matchmaker unbeknownst to you or hugh. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 4.5k warnings: this is complete filth bc how can you not look at that first photo and just be fine??? anyway - porn with little plot, unprotected p in v, public beach sex, seated cowgirl, oral - m receiving, light dirty talk, no use of y/n. a/n: this is for the anon who requested this spicy idea! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did writing it. i haven't opened up my requests since 2017 (i think), but ya know, that might change after this lol. i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman! this is purely fictional.

“All expenses paid,” you hear Ryan say over the phone. “You deserve a vacation. Even Blake agrees.”

“Ryan, no,” you protest, beginning to clean up your small coffee shop for the day. When you opened your own coffee shop so many years ago, you didn’t expect that not only would it be great business, but that you’d be very close friends with Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman.

“Oh, come on!” he says. “When was the last time you took time for yourself, hm?”

There’s a silence that engulfs the two of you.

Before you can even speak, Ryan chimes in. “Exactly. You’ll have your own hotel room. You don’t have to spend the entire trip with us, though, we will be hurt if you don’t hang out with us, and–” he teases.

“Okay, fine! Fine,” you huff. “I’m sure after Deadpool & Wolverine, you need some time for you and your family too.”

“Yeah,” Ryan replies. “I feel like I can be a good dad now.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “You’ve always been a good dad.”

“Eh,” he chuckles. “So, we’ll see you at the airport this weekend?”

“Sure.”

“Actually, we’re going to pick you up.” Ryan decides. “That way, I know for sure you’ll be coming with us.”

“God, you’re annoying!” you laugh. “Fine. I’ll see you and the family this Friday night. After I close up.”

“No, no. We’re leaving in the morning. Your coffee shop will be fine.”

“I know, it’s just–” you sigh, resting the phone between your ear and shoulder as you rearrange the bags of coffee on the display. Your mind drifts momentarily when you see the Laughing Man coffee beans, thinking about Hugh. “Nevermind.”

“You think too much,” Ryan points out then his voice turns serious for a moment. “You’ll be okay. Your shop will be okay. In the time we’ve known you – Hugh and I – you’ve always been working, busting your ass.”

“I know,” you then move your gaze to the amount of photographs on your wall behind the counter. They are photographs that you’ve taken, candid ones of your employees, landscape portraits of the trips you’ve taken to find the best coffee beans, even personal photos of you and your family and friends, including Hugh, Ryan, and Blake.

“So…” he says. “Pick you up Friday morning?”

“Yes, Ryan. You can pick me up Friday morning. You’re very convincing, do you know that? You just never quit until you get your way.”

“What can I say? I’m very persuasive.” He chuckles. “Okay, I’ll see you Friday. Have a good rest of your week. Call me if you need anything.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you and Hugh before then,” you tease. “At this rate, all this free coffee I give you does amount to a free trip.”

“Exactly! Talk to you later.”

—

You hadn’t spoken to Hugh in weeks, knowing that he and Ryan had been doing constant press conferences and interviews after Deadpool & Wolverine came out. You’d never admit it to either of them, but you did go out to watch the movie and it only fueled the crush that you had on Hugh. Especially that final scene. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t go home that night with thoughts filled of him. Shirtless and glistening. It was rather inappropriate, really. Not only did you and Hugh start out as friends, but you also had a partnership with him where he sells his brand of coffee at your coffee shop and takes a cut of what the sales make. It’s worked for years now and you never really looked at him in a way that was more than a friend or partner. You knew he was good looking, so sweet and funny, but it wasn’t until months after his divorce that you started to look at him differently. You had to wonder if he looked at you the same way because you started to notice how often he would come by when you were closing up to help you clean, or how his gaze on you would linger, his touches seemingly becoming more and more less friendly and more intimate.

You’re already on the plane with Ryan, Blake, and the rest of their family. It never felt like you were the odd one out. Both Ryan and Blake always made you feel like you were part of their family. There were plenty of times where you and Hugh would babysit Ryan and Blake’s children while they were busy and always, they’d ask for Uncle Hugh to sing songs from The Greatest Showman. You were always right there next to him, singing and performing alongside him to entertain the kids.

When you moved to New York, it was a big leap of faith. It wasn’t always easy, but Hugh, Ryan, and Blake made you feel less alone when there were times you weren’t sure you were ever going to make it out here. Now, you can’t even think of leaving New York. It has become your home. These people… They have become your family.

You look up from your notebook to see Blake and Ryan staring at you, both with big grins on their faces. You can tell they were hiding something, so you shut your notebook and point at them.

“Okay, spill.”

Ryan feigns a gasp, palms raising up in surrender. “Can’t my beautiful wife and I stare at you lovingly?”

Blake lets out a quiet laugh and rolls her eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re both really bad liars,” you point out. “What is it? Why are you both smiling at me like that?”

“We’re just happy that you’re finally taking some time to yourself,” Blake replies, moving to sit next to you.

“You’re much more convincing than your husband,” you say loud enough for Ryan to hear.

“I take offense to that,” Ryan says.

Blake turns to you and looks down at your notebook, tilting her head in amusement. “Even away from your coffee shop, all you can think about is how to improve it. Don’t you ever stop working?”

“Never,” you laugh, opening your notebook for her to look through. “Fall is right around the corner, so I’m just thinking of a few specialty drinks that I can introduce for a limited time. I hear pumpkin spice is very popular.”

You and Blake stare at each other and then erupt into a fit of laughter, both of you shaking your heads. “Can you promise me one thing on this trip?” she asks.

“I can try.”

“Try to have some fun, don’t think so much about work. It’ll be there when you get back. We’re in Hawaii for two weeks. Just–” Blake shrugs. “Be open and let loose.”

You arch an eyebrow. “I feel like there’s a hidden meaning there somewhere.”

“Oh, there is!” Ryan nods, a grin lining his lips. “Or is there?”

“The both of you,” you shake your head. “Are ridiculous.”

“Ah, but you love us,” Blake grins.

“Unfortunately,” you tease. “But okay, I’ll do my best. No work. No thinking about work. I’ll try and focus on being in the present.”

“Maybe you can meditate,” Ryan calls out. “You know, Hugh swears by it.”

Hugh. The mere mention of his name makes your heart flutter and you subconsciously bite your lower lip. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Blake who tries to bite back a smile.

“Yeah, maybe.” You stand up and then motion towards the bathroom, excusing yourself from both Blake, Ryan, and their kids.

Blake then turns to Ryan and grins. She whispers very quietly. “I think it’s going to work.”

“I sure hope so. Neither of them have any clue what we’re trying to do.”

“You’ve seen it. I’ve seen it. They’re the only ones who haven’t seen it,” Blake says.

“Oh, Hugh’s seen it,” Ryan winks.

Blake chuckles. “Well, let’s see how this trip goes.”

“If it all goes well, they’ll be leaving together,” Ryan replies.

—

You’ve been in Hawaii for three days now. You’ve possibly spent every moment with Ryan and his family since arriving. You didn’t mind though. Being in their company helped keep your mind away from work, away from the responsibilities that await you at home, away from Hugh. Today, though, Ryan and Blake want to spend the day at a secluded beach to allow their kids to roam free and have fun without worrying about possible paparazzi.

You look at yourself in the mirror, dressed in a deep blue bikini set – a halter triangle top tied at the base of your neck and back, and a cheeky bottom with side ties that rest on the side of your hips – with a white, long sleeve cover-up. You take a few pictures of yourself, wanting to send it to Hugh or even post it on social media, but you don’t. Instead, you turn off your phone and set it inside your bag before you leave your room to meet Ryan and the family.

Throughout the entire ride to the island, Ryan and Blake can’t keep their eyes off of you. You busy yourself, though, with playing with their kids, hearing their laughter fill the car. You can tell they’re excited, jumping up and down in their seats as they talk amongst one another about the things they’ll do once they get to the beach.

It isn’t until you all arrive at the beach and climb out that you notice another car in the lot. Ryan had mentioned before that it would just be his family and you, so you had to wonder if maybe he had gotten something wrong along the way of planning this. But if you were concerned about it, he certainly didn’t show it himself. Instead, he climbs out of the car and grabs the kids’ bags from the trunk before he and Blake motion for you to follow them onto the beach. Your toes hit the sand as you slide your sunglasses on your face. You tell Ryan and Blake that you’ll be at a distance, allowing them at least some time to spend with their kids without you and it gives you enough time to try and meditate. Maybe it will work, you tell yourself.

You don’t see anyone else nearby and you’re at a good distance from Ryan and Blake, so you set down your towel and bag, removing your cover-up and sunglasses. You make sure to reapply more sunscreen before you walk towards the water. It’s cold and it causes a shiver to run down your spine, so you force yourself to dive in to get acclimated to the temperature of the water.

The beach had always calmed you down, kept you grounded. It was one of the reasons why you had been so hesitant to leave your hometown of California. From one side of the coast to another. Once you come back up, you run your hands through your wet hair, slicking it back away from your face as you stand, the water only reaching your upper thighs. When you open your eyes, though, your jaw drops.

Hugh is within a few arms reach as his eyes meet yours. The surprise look on his face tells you all that you need to know.

He had no idea you would be here.

And neither did you.

You can’t help but let your eyes take in his frame. His broad chest, water trickling down his frame, disappearing into the waistband of his black board shorts. He’s pulling his shorts up just a bit, but it gives you a good view of the v-cut he has and immediately, you’re aware of the feeling between your legs.

But just like you’re checking him out, Hugh’s also allowing his eyes to roam over your frame. The bikini you’re wearing is so tiny and tight around your frame. He tries to tell himself not to get excited at the mere sight of you, but it’s hard. He’s getting hard, so he does his best to think of other things that could lessen his excitement.

Since his divorce, Hugh had taken comfort in your presence. What started out as a friendship turned partnership had blossomed into something else. Surely, you felt it too. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

“Hello, you,” he calls out.

The both of you begin walking towards each other, meeting in the middle as the waves crash around you.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” you say softly. Out of instinct, you reach out to give him a hug, warms snaking around his shoulders. This feels good, hugging him like this feels fucking great. You feel his hard chest and hair against you. He’s so wet, so slick and you just want to–

“I think Ryan may have forgotten to tell us both,” Hugh says, voice deep and husky against your ear as his arms wrap around your waist. Hugh shuts his eyes as he feels your breasts against him, his fingertips resting just above your backside and he feels his manhood stir awake.

Quickly, Hugh pulls away, slowly lowering himself in the water to cover the growing erection between his legs and also to keep some distance between your bodies. You do the same, swimming further into the water as you both continue to float.

“And Blake,” you add. “You think it was intentional? You ask, turning to look over your shoulder to see both Ryan and Blake staring at the both of you.

Hugh looks over at them and lets out a quiet chuckle. “Dunno,” he answers. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you blush, heat rising in your cheeks. “How long– How long have you been here?”

“Three days.”

“Those fuckers,” you chuckle. “They totally set this up.”

Hugh laughs alongside you and tilts his head in amusement. He watches you closely, seeing you gnaw at your lower lip nervously (it’s something he’s noticed about you very early on). You bring your hand up to stroke your hair back away from your face and Hugh can’t help but smile to himself. He likes you. Really likes you and he knows that he shouldn’t act on it, knows that there should be some boundary, but he can’t help himself.

“You nervous?” he asks quietly.

“What?” you answer, looking up at him. “No…”

“You’re doin’ that thing you do,” Hugh points out. He gently reaches out and runs the pad of his thumb along your lower lip, causing you to release it between your teeth.

“What thing?”

“You know what thing,” he chuckles, slowly swimming closer to you. “You bite your lower lip a lot when you get nervous or when you’re deep in thought. So, you’re either nervous or you’re thinkin’ about somethin’. Which is it?”

“Neither,” you lie.

Hugh narrows his eyes slowly and drags his thumb at the center of your lower lip and down to your chin until he hooks it in his grasp. “Now, I know you’re not someone who lies,” he begins, moving his thumb across your jawline. “Don’t tell me you’re lying now.”

“I’m both,” you blurt out, leaning against his touch. “I’m nervous and I’m thinking about something.”

“You’re always thinking about something,” Hugh points out. “Do I…” he asks hesitantly and drops his hand back into the water. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Right now you are.”

“Why?”

“Because…” you whisper, looking deeply into his eyes. “One, we’re both basically half naked.”

“We’re at a beach,” he says with a small smile. “We’re in our bathing suits.”

“Half naked,” you correct. “And two, you’re just–” you stop yourself and drop your eyes to his lips then back up to gaze into his eyes. You then remember what Blake told you. Try to have some fun. Be open. Let loose. Now, you understand exactly what she meant by that. So, you let out a shaky breath and continue. “You’re just so fucking hot, Hugh, and yes, you’re making me nervous because you’re literally shirtless and wet, and you’re muscular and it’s just–”

Hugh’s laughter interrupts your rambling. You notice the way his nose crinkles upwards when the laughter comes deep within the pit of his stomach. Suddenly, you’re very aware that you just made a fool out of yourself and you gently shove him.

“It’s not funny! You asked and so I told you. I was being honest!”

“I’m not–” he sighs, his laughter dying down. “I’m not laughing at you, baby.” The term slips past his lips so effortlessly and he reaches out from underneath the water to grab a hold of your hip, pulling you to him. “I’m laughing because you think I’m hot to a point that you’re stuttering over your words. Have you seen yourself?” The smile remains on his lips and his thumb begins to rub circles at your hip. “Because if anyone should be nervous, it’s me.”

“You?”

“Oh, come on,” he says. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that I’ve got the biggest crush on ya.”

“Wait, you what?” your eyes slightly widen in surprise, but you can’t help the way your stomach flips in excitement.

“I’ve got a crush on ya,” he whispers. “And I shouldn’t even be having crushes at this age,” Hugh chuckles nervously. “But I do. I like you.”

“You’re not joking?”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Because you can have literally anyone you want and–”

“I want you.” Hugh says, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. “Do you want me to?”

“More than you fucking know, Hugh.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your lips against him. You sigh against him moving your legs to wrap around his waist underneath the water as you move your lips against his own.

Hugh growls against you, both hands moving to your hips as he leans further into you, tilting his head to get a better angle of your lips. He didn’t realize this was how his trip was going to go. After Ryan convinced him to take some time off, especially after the success of their movie together, he was hesitant. He didn’t want to take time off. He was used to being busy, especially after his divorce, but Hugh had only agreed to come on the trip to figure out his feelings for you.

He just didn’t realize that you’d be here too.

In the distance, you and Hugh can hear a faint clapping and hollering. You both pull away to look over at the noise and see Blake, Ryan, and their kids jump up in excitement, cheering for the both of you. You see them wave in your direction before they begin to grab their things, making their way back to the parking lot. You then look at Hugh and gaze into his eyes.

“Are they leaving us? Leaving me?” You ask.

“I can take you back,” Hugh says softly.

You bite your lower lip and nod. “Only if it isn’t–”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if our hotel rooms are right next to each other,” Hugh chuckles, slowly then moving his hands down as he grasps your backside in his large hands, pulling you flush against him. His gaze darkens as he stares into your eyes. He thinks maybe he might have moved too fast, but when you roll your hips against him, he knows exactly what’s going to happen next.

You want him just as bad as he does.

“Hugh,” you whisper, voice laced with desire. “Please.”

“Tell me, baby.”

“I need you.” You bury your face in the side of his neck and gently nip at his skin, feeling his hands move under you, his long fingers brushing against your core as it causes you to gasp.

Hugh’s painfully hard against his board shorts and he lets out a low groan when he feels your teeth scrape against the skin at his neck. He feels you squirming against him, moaning into his ear and he has to pull away briefly to look into your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“If I have to say please one more time…”

“I don’t mind hearin’ you beg,” he winks. “Come on.” Hugh leads you out of the water and towards his towel in a much more secluded area. You drift from him for a moment to grab your things before following him, watching him lay out his towel before he takes a seat on it, legs spread wide.

You bite your lower lip and lay out your towel in front of him, dropping to your knees as you crawl towards him until you're seated on your knees between his legs. “We won’t get in trouble, will we?”

Hugh shrugs, reaching down to cup your cheek. “Don’t think so. Ryan made sure that no one but us should be here and–”

“That’s good enough for me.” You lean down and move your hands to the waistband of his board shorts. He’s dripping wet from the water and you can see the outline of his length perfectly due to his shorts sticking to him. You hook your fingers into the waistband and slowly pull it down enough to see his length spring free. Hugh lets out a low groan of relief and reaches behind you to undo the knot at the base of your neck. Once loose, he watches your top fall open to reveal your breasts. He doesn’t have enough time to take in your newly exposed chest because your hand wraps around his base, soft lips grazing the head of his manhood.

“Ah, baby,” he growls, moving a hand to your shoulder, gripping it tightly as your mouth wraps around his tip. Hugh shuts his eyes and tosses his head back, moving one hand to rest on the towel while the other remains on your shoulder.

You look up at him, feeling an immediate possessiveness wash over you. He looks so beautiful like this, eyes shut, chest heaving, and at your mercy.

You begin to stroke his base as your tongue swirls around his tip, lapping at his precum. His groans slowly become louder as you lower your head to take more of him, stroking his base when you realize you can’t take him whole. He’s larger than you expected, girthy and long, and it excites you. As you continue to stroke him in time with sucking his length, you feel Hugh’s hand move from your shoulder to the back of your head as his hips slightly lift itself. He pushes himself further into your mouth, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat repeatedly.

“Fuck,” he moans, eyes opening to look down at you. God, Hugh can just come at the sight of you. Tears slightly stinging the corners of your eyes and your mouth stuffed full of him. What a beautiful fucking sight, he thinks.

Slowly, Hugh has to pull away from you because he feels the pit of his stomach tightening, searching for release. He lets out a low growl that reverberates through his chest and you lean up on your knees, licking your lips. Hugh reaches out for you and pulls you on his lap, hurriedly moving your bikini bottom to the side. He grasps his manhood and runs his tip along your length, feeling your wetness coat him with each movement.

“You’re wet for me?” he asks, eyes staring up at you.

“Only for you.” you reply, eyes fluttering as you feel his tip slowly push into you. He releases his hold on his length and rests his hand on your hip, leaning down to press soft kisses against your chest before he moves onto a breast, flicking his tongue against your nipple repeatedly before he wraps his lips around it.

You let out a loud moan, moving your hands to his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your walls tight and wet sliding down his cock. You feel so full of him and he’s not yet fully in the hilt. The stretch is almost painful, but you’re so wet and throbbing that you have to stop yourself from slamming down onto him.

“Oh god, Hugh,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders as you move along his length, not yet allowing him to fill you to the hilt as your walls begin to make way for him.

Hugh moves his lips to your other breast, eyes staring up at you. He wants more of you, needs more of you so he slowly lifts his hips, inching further within your depths.

“Shit,” he groans, watching as his cock disappears into you completely. Hugh’s hands rest over your hips as you pull him closer to you, chests pressed against one another as you slowly roll your hips against his. “So fucking tight, baby,” he whispers against you, forehead resting on yours.

“You’re–” you gasp, feeling his hair at the base brush against your clit as you continue your movements. “So big,” you moan, eyes falling shut.

Hugh gently pecks your lips and takes a hold of your hips to guide you along his length. He watches you reach for his cowboy hat, placing it on top of your head and Hugh has to force himself to hold back his release.

“You’re so hot,” he moans, allowing you to take control of your movements. Hugh can’t help the way your walls tighten around his cock – you’re so warm and wet, so inviting and tight. He knows he’s close, but he can’t– he can’t finish without you finishing first.

“Baby,” Hugh whimpers, holding you flush against him in a tight grip. “Don’t– Fuck, baby, don’t move.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, hands moving to link at the base of his neck. “You can come, Hugh.”

“No,” he shakes his head, losing his resolve as your hips move forward and backward slowly. “You have to be first– Shit…”

“This won’t be the only time,” you say reassuringly, lightly pecking his lips. You then increase your movements, hips moving forward and backward at a faster pace. Hugh’s so deep in this position and you know you’re close, but you’re determined to have Hugh finish before you.

“Sweetheart,” Hugh grunts. “Baby, I’m–” His eyes flutter shut as he lets out a loud groan, mouth slightly agape as his fingertips dig almost painfully into your hips. His release shoots inside of you, painting your walls as his manhood throbs within your depths.

He’s still half hard and you take this moment to begin bouncing along his length, using your hand to reach down between you to rub your clit and Hugh’s eyes narrow. He pushes your hand away and rubs your clit with his thumb in a circular motion.

Hugh feels possessive and almost animalistic at the sight of you using him to get yourself off. He can feel your walls begin to tremble and he’s still a bit sensitive, but you just feel so fucking good.

“Come on, baby,” he coos, applying pressure to your clit. “I know you’re there. Come for me, sweetheart.”

That’s all it took. Your walls tighten around his length as your body trembles against him. Hugh moves his hand to wrap his arms around your waist, leaning up to press his lips against yours. He’s still inside of you, his length softening as the moment passes.

You move your lips lazily against his, heavy breaths passing through the both of you as Hugh pulls back slowly. “Wanna head back to the hotel?” he grins.

“Oh, hell yeah.”

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fanfic #real person fanfiction #real person fanfic #real person fiction #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman oneshot #hugh jackman one shot

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rafescvntyclubgf · 28 days ago

Text

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝔸𝕝𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝙽𝙷𝙻!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙹𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

❕Warnings Contain Spoilers ❕

warnings: rafe’s pov, reader’s pov, dark!rafe, possessive!rafe, obsessed!rafe, graphic violence, mentions of blood, rafe considers kidnapping the reader, rafe beats up his co-captain and ties him up, oral (male + female receiving), dark!reader, ownership kink, pet names, swearing, dirty talk, kissing, unprotected p in v, praise, rough sex, cum tasting

This is an ask from my baby starkeysbabygirl for dark NHL!Rafe 💋 thank you for your ask, hun!!! The premise is reporter!reader, Rafe’s ex, interviews him and the other captain ahead of Friday night's big game. Rafe can't help but see the spark between them, and he wants to let her know who she belongs to

Masterlist

Rafe’s POV:

The camera light flashes; a typical pre-game interview, but my heart is beating out of my chest. I lean back slightly, relaxing on my leather couch. My co-captain Nate laughs, elbowing me playfully, joking about something, but honestly, I can’t fuckin’ hear it.

My girl… Well, at least she was.

She’s stunning, polished, and professional. She glances at Nate, then me, her face unchanging, calm, and collected, completely detached as I’m losing my goddamn mind at the sight of her so close to me.

She adjusts the microphone clipped to her blouse… red. My favorite color, especially on her, and I can’t help but wonder if she remembers that.

It’s been six months since we broke up. Six long months, but each passing day only made my obsession worse. She had a jealous streak that drove me insane, questioning every woman I so much as glanced at from the ice. Blowing up my phone to the point of exhaustion on away games just in case I found someone else. I tried to reassure her I was loyal, but it was never enough. And that exhaustion I felt didn’t even begin to cover it. I was over it completely.

Eventually, I snapped. I told her I was over her and the drama, the fighting; I was done trying to convince her she was all I wanted. That day, I broke her—shattered her heart completely—and when she walked out the door, I told myself it was for the best.

Or, so I thought.

But the truth was she never really left… I started following her career from afar, curiosity getting the better of me. I selfishly wondered if she was as affected by our breakup as I was, but she wasn’t. That curiosity turned into something darker—something I didn’t even recognize myself.

She'd landed the gig at ESPN she’d been working for, climbing the ladder from short vlogs to TV interviews. Every interview, every appearance, every event—I consumed it all, taking what crumbs I could get. I even started showing up where I knew she would be, affairs I would have skipped before, all in an attempt to catch her eye, but I never did.

All I want is her. All I want is to be close to her. Tonight’s my fuckin’ night.

To her, it’s just some informal interview—a change from her regular rinkside report or studio sit down. But to me, it’s one step closer to getting her back; she’s sitting in my place, on my couch, sipping a glass of water from my cupboard. It’s like she’s coming home.

“Alright, gentleman,” y/n smiles, pulling me out of my mind. Her voice was honeyed and dripping with confidence. I shut my eyes, hanging my head momentarily, trying to collect myself as she continued. “The Winter Classic is one of the season's biggest games; the match-up is electric on its own. Fans are buzzing about the drama between you and the Kings. How are you both feeling tonight?”

My lips curl into a smile as she asks me a question; well, us—regardless, the attention had me feeling like I just snorted a line. Riding high off the attention I had been craving for for months. My fix finally met. “Excited,” I blurt out, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks as she cocks her eyebrow at me. “Focused… This is the kinda hockey you look forward to playin’.”

“Absolutely,” Nate adds, cutting in, stealing her focus from me in the process. Her gaze flickers to him, the corners of her perfect lips curling into a slight smile that I didn’t get. A sharp sting of jealousy stabs through my heart. My blunt fingernails dig into the armrests of my chair, trying to stay composed.

”And you, Rafe,” she sings as she looks back at me. Fuck… My pulse spikes as my name passes her lips for the first time in months. She hasn’t mentioned my name once in any interview, podcast, or vlog. "As one of the league's top performers, do you feel the pressure to lead your team tomorrow?”

I draw a deep breath, thankful that I hung on to her every word instead of focusing on the sound of her voice alone—like music to my fuckin’ ears. “Pressure is part of the gig. I’ve always thrived on it.”

She nods, living in my words for a moment. “Spoken like a true captain,” she praises. Her compliment hits me harder than it should’ve, but I can’t help but blush at her words.

The interview presses on as the tension between her and me simmers beneath the surface. Even Nate can tell, his eyes moving between us when her gaze hangs a little heavier on me.

And then, something shifts.

Her attention pivots to Nate; the scales of her focus weighing in his favor. My heart breaks with each smile, each glimmer in his and her eyes. I watch her fall through my finger again, right into his hands.

And Nate—that motherfucker—he’s eating it up, flirting shamelessly, and worse, she doesn't seem to mind in the slightest.

By the end of the interview, I had all but fallen apart. Nate stands up, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt as he looks at her from across the room, no doubt eye-fuckin’ the shit out of my girl. I sip my coffee, observing her from across the room as she packs up her equipment, leaving my place with a little wave, nothing more, nothing less.

“Fuck, she’s stunning,” Nate hums. “Do you have her number?”

“No,” I press the word past my lips. Drawing a deep breath, I roll out my neck, trying to let his comments go.

"It’s alright. She probably has an IG account or somethin’. I'll just slide into her DMs. Probably safer that way anyway," he says with a smug smile, looking over with a wink like he’s talking to a friend, but that ship has fuckin’ sailed.

My jaw clenches tight, and every muscle in my body twists tight. I can’t let him see how much he’s getting to me… His words make me feel like I could lose my last shred of sanity.

Nate walks toward the door, slipping on his jacket. He digs his phone out of his pocket, sliding his finger across the screen before looking up at me again. “How do you spell her first name again?”

She’s probably gone by now. My hear’s racing. What the fuck am I doing? My mind pinballs between a dozen possibilities. What if it’s too late? What if she doesn’t want to talk to me? Do I take her? Take her, Rafe… What the fuck am I thinking? No… No. Talk to her? Yeah—Yeah, just talk. For now.

SCREECH.

She slams on the brakes as I stop her in the parking lot— thankful she parked in valet and not on the street, giving me a little extra time to get to her.

"Rafe?" She asks, her voice gentle and uneasy. “Are you ok-“

"Can we talk?" I cut her off with a breathless request, trying to sound calmer than I am as my heart pounds in my head.

She looks around the lot before turning her attention back to me. “… Sure.” She bends around, returning to the valet, before handing him her keys.

She walks toward me, doing nothing for my nerves as her jacket blows slightly with the breeze, the winter wind whipping her hair, making her look like a goddamn angel. My eyes stay locked on her, unblinking, not wanting to miss a moment as she clears the gap between us.

“What did you wanna talk about?”

"Upstairs…” I choke out. "Just for a drink."

We walk toward the elevator. The ride up is silent; tension between us, thick with unsaid words.

She walks into my apartment, stopping dead in her tracks.

The living room is wrecked. A lamp knocked onto the floor—glass shattered. Decorations are strewn and thrown to the floor. Sitting in the far corner of the room is Nate: tied to a chair, beaten face smeared with blood, his head hanging low.

She turns around, her trembling hand covering her lips, her wide eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Her gaze darts from mine to my hands. Shit… I look down, catching the blood; my knuckles split and broken.

“Y/n,” I start, and just as I do, her hand falls—from her smile.

She walks toward me, slow and deliberate, as my heart swells. Her heels click against the marble floor as she gets closer and closer. "Rafe," she hums, looking up at me through her lashes. "You did this for me?"

I draw a deep breath, looking down at her before me, completely overwhelmed. I don't know what reaction I was expecting or what thoughts went through my mind when I brought her back here, but a part of me knew this was what she wanted.

“I hated the way he was talkin’ to you,” I whisper.

She looks over her shoulder, taking in the chaos silently. Every piece of broken glass and a crimson streak of blood was just a reminder of how far I’d go, and still, for me, it was not enough. “I can't believe you did this for me,” she says the words weakly as a tear tumbles down her cheek.

“I’d do worse if it meant keeping you.”

She bites her lips, holding back her emotions. My stomach flutters as her hands slip into mine. “I missed you, Rafe. I think about you all the time,” she smiles.

“I can’t tell you how much I missed you… I’m sorry for following you—”

“I wanted you to,” she assures, giving me the answer I was hoping for.

"You started this career to be closer to me," I ask as I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her into me, my voice slow and steady, “didn't you?" She takes a little breath, looking down at the space between us, smiling before looking back up at me, nodding ‘yes.’

"I was hoping we’d run into each other and I’d get to apologize for how I acted-”

"Stop," I interrupt, my voice hoarse and broken with feelings. "I don't care about that shit. I’ve been messed up since the day you left."

Her eyes blink as she looks up at me lovingly. I cup her cheeks in her hands, brushing away her tears with my thumbs. "You're mine," I whisper. "No one else's. Say it.”

"I'm yours," she breathes. I look out of the corner of my eye, watching Nate struggle against the binds, breaking up our moment, making my blood boil.

“Let me go take care of him. Yeah?” I rasp, and she smiles.

I step toward him slowly as he battles even harder, that cockiness that he had in the interview stripped away. “Rafe—Rafe… I don't know what the fuck is goin’ on, man. Just let me go.”

I kneel beside him, looking him in his eyes, ensuring he hears every word. “Nate… You fucked up, man,” I chide. “You pushed me… And if you do it again, you’ll find out just how far I can go, bitch. This is nothing…”

“I didn’t know, Rafe. Fuck—I didn’t know you were together,” he rambles as blood trickles out of the corner of his lips.

“You couldn’t feel it? Bullshit. I know you saw it. Stop fuckin’ lyin’ to me,” I hiss. “And you… What if Ally found out you were about to slip in my girl's DMs, huh?” I ask, my voice low and lethal. “What if your wife found out about that little Instagram model in Montreal? One word to her, and you’re done.”

Nate shakes his head ‘no’ fast, his bruised eyes pinched shut. “I’m not gonna say shit!” He huffs.

The second I untie him, he’s scrambling toward the door. A wicked smile twists on her lips as she looks back at me, hanging onto every word I said to him, the threats leaving my tongue nothing but foreplay to her. She turns on her heels, beckoning me with her dark gaze.

Y/n smiles at me, biting her lip as she looks down at the floor. My Boston College jersey lies in a pile of glass; the collectible frame knocked off the wall in the fight. She bends down, picking it up, giving it a few shakes before disappearing into my dark room.

I smile to myself, giving her a moment. I know what she’s gonna do. That’s my girl.

Walking toward my bedroom, I follow the trail of discarded clothes: her jacket, skirt, and that satin blouse I wanted to tear off, but this is so much better. I chuckle sleazily as I see her pretty red bra on the floor, my eyes lifting to my bed, seeing her sitting pretty on the edge of the bed, waiting for me.

Before I can even ask, she’s on her knees, crawling slowly toward me. My eyes roll back seeing her like this… Like a goddamn dream. I rip off the buttons of my shirt, tearing it off my shoulders as she kneels before me, pawing for my belt, tugging my pants around my ankles.

I wrap my fist around her hair, pulling after gaze away from my cock to my eyes. “C’mon, pretty… I remember what this mouth can do,” I mumble as my thumb brushes along her bottom lip.

She lays out her tongue, and I slap my tip against it, moaning at the contact. She wraps her lips around me, eyes fluttering shut like it’s all she needs. The vibrations of her pleasured sounds about sends me. I use the hold on her head to pull her into me, watching tears spring in the corners of her eyes again as my fat tip kisses the back of her throat.

Reader’s POV:

“Atta girl,” Rafe hums, his praise only fueling your frenzy. You bob up and down on his long cock as he guides your strokes. “You like that shit?” He breathes a sigh of relief as he watches you work his dick in your mouth.

“Suckin’ my dick with my name on your shoulders, princess… You know how many times I’ve thought about this? Fuckin’ dream girl,” he groans hazily between thrusts.

Rafe blows out a breath as you release his cock with a pop, causing him to let out a grunt for more, almost instantly eased by your fist, jerking him off. You can feel your wetness, trickling from your pussy, seeping down your inner thigh. "I can't wait to fuck you, princess."

You moan, feeling the weight of him on your tongue, Rafe’s precum swirling with your saliva, making your arousal pool in your panties. You lift his jersey slightly, giving him a glimpse of your round ass, a tiny number two embroidered on the back of your thong.

“Fuckkk,” he groans at the sight, tossing his head back; the salty taste of his precum intensifies as he cum in thick ropes, painting your throat. You wrap your hands around his body, nails scratching down his thigh, making his muscles clench.

Rafe’s cock throbs on your tongue, blood pumping in his shaft as you cup his balls in your hands, rolling slowly, not wanting him out of your mouth just yet.

“Co’mere,” he breathes as he helps you to your feet, pulling you to his lips. He kisses you deeply, walking back with you to his large bed, pushing you down before mounting you fast. “These panties… You fuckin’ kidding me,” he mutters against your lips as his thick fingers shove the satin aside, running up your soaked slit.

You start to rock with his thrusts as Rafe swallows your moans. He pulls away, pushing his fingers between his lips, sucking off your wetness, looking down at you underneath him.

“Hands and knees, princess,” he smiles.

Before you can comply, he grips your hips, flipping you over. You arch your back for him, and he grabs your ass, circling his hands before spanking you once, then twice.

He squeezes your curves, pulling you apart slightly, running his tongue from your clit to your entrance. You whimper as his fingers press against your aching pearl, tongue pushing into your soaked hole.

Rafe swirls his tongue and fingers with precision, eating you out from the back, moaning into your cunt as he laps up your arousal. His free hand tugs your panties to the side, using the hold to pull your warmth closer to his face, the man drowning in pussy.

”Rafe… Fuck. I’m close,” you whimper.

"Cum for me," he whispers between tongue flicks. You cum fast and hard, fluttering as your pleasure courses through your veins.

Before you can even come down from your high, he sinks into you, making you cry out, sliding into your sloppy core until his hips nudge your ass. He grabs your body, pushing his cock even further, making you bury your face in the comforter.

“Oh my god. Shittt,” he grunts as he circles his hips, his voice deep and dripping with sin. You lift your head as he pulls almost out, fucking back into your fast. “Tell me whose pussy this is, baby. Fuckin’ tell me…”

“Yours, baby,” you squeal, body shivering at the feeling of him buried to the hilt.

“That’s right…” He mumbles as he pushes the jersey up your back.

He rolls and snaps his hips into you, making the fat of your ass recoil with each thrust. He grabs your curves in his hands, spreading you wider, watching the way his thick dick gets swallowed up, wet, and sticky with your slickness.

He builds up to a punishing pace; the sounds of your wet skin slapping against each other fill his room. His fingers dig into your supple flesh as you start to meet him thrust for thrust, gasping as he hits that special spot, your heart rate frantic—your body desperate to cum around his big cock.

Rafe’s movements get a little rougher, his pace quickening. “Mpfhh… You’re gonna cum?” He groans, desperation clinging to his tone as he tries to hold back his pleasure. “Been thinkin’ about that feelin’ for six fuckin’ months,” he mumbles. “I know you are. Cum on my dick, princess… I need it—Fuck. I need it,” your eyes roll back in your head as your pleasure surges through you, crashing over you like a wave.

“Rafe, fuck-”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Rafe pants, answering your cries as he throws his hips. “I’m gonna fill up this tight cunt. I want you dripping out of me tomorrow.” He reaches for you, pulling you back to his chest, pressing his face against your cheeks. “You’ll always remember who owns this pussy.”

Rafe’s body tightens as he grabs your face, pressing his lips against yours. “You're mine,” he whispers against your mouth as his body shudders, filling you with his heavy load.

His tongue slips between your lips as he rocks his hip, smiling through panting breaths, pushing his cum deeper and deeper. Tears of pleasure and happiness roll down your cheeks as he keeps you standing, your legs feeling like they could give way at any second. Rafe chuckles darkly, letting out a satisfied sigh at his cockdrunk girl. “Say it, baby…”

“I’m yours.”

#rafe cameron #rafe #outer banks #obx #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #hockey!rafe #hockey rafe #nhl!rafe #nhl au #rafe x reader smut #rafeyscurtainbangs library 📚#rafeyscurtainbangs kinkmas 2024 ❄️#rafecore #dark rafe #rafe cameron x reader

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willowsnook · 21 hours ago

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Hi,I wanted to request a fluff lando norris x sainz reader.you can make it however you would like.if you can make it amazing and if not, that's ok, also I love your writing <3

lando norris x sainz!reader

A/n: short little blurb

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

"Are you sure it's okay if I stay here?" You asked your brother as he carried your suitcases into his Monaco apartment.

"Of course," he said, scoffing. "It's insulting that you even ask that; you're my sister."

"I know...but I don't want to impose," you said. Carlos set your bag down and brought his hands down to your shoulders.

"You can stay here as long as you want; I'm gone a lot of the time anyways," he said, reassuring you.

Moving in with your brother had not been in the cards for this year, but after you were laid off last month, you couldn't afford to renew your lease for your London apartment, so here you were. There were some good leads for jobs in Monaco, so moving in with Carlos temporarily seemed like a good move. Plus, the country was beautiful.

A few weeks in, you settled into a good routine. You went on a run every morning, followed by yoga, and then you applied for jobs or went in for interviews. You were in the final rounds at several places and felt optimistic. On nights Carlos was there, you hung out with him, but you tried to carve out a new life for yourself in Monaco. You joined a book club at your new favorite bookstore, hung out at the beach, and went to bars alone in hopes of meeting new people.

Carlos was out of town this weekend on a quick trip to see Rebecca, so you had the place to yourself. Declaring it a "self-care" night, you cooked your favorite pasta dish, poured a big glass of wine, and set yourself up to watch your favorite kind of thing on Netflix: a crime documentary.

Not even two minutes in, someone was knocking at the door. Annoyed, you paused the show and tossed the blanket off of you, heading to the door. Swinging it open, you were surprised to see Lando Norris standing there, giving you an equally confused look.

"Is Carlos here?" He asked once he collected himself.

"No, he's in Spain with Rebecca," you told him. "Do you need something?"

"Not really," he said, shrugging. "I just wanted to see if he wanted to grab dinner or something."

You nodded and started to close the door, but Lando stuck his foot out, stopping it.

"Is that pasta?" He said, a hopeful look in his eyes as he looked past your shoulder to the leftovers you hadn't put away yet.

You gently rested your head against the door, closing your eyes before you sighed and fully pulled it open, allowing him to step in.

"I don't even know you," you grumbled as he started towards the kitchen.

"We've met plenty of times y/n," he chirped as he made himself a plate. "What are you watching?"

"A crime documentary," you replied. "Don't you have better things to do on a Friday night? Going to the club? Getting on the sim? Streaming?"

“Not really,” he said with a grin. “Watching a crime documentary sounds good. Can I have a glass of wine?”

“Help yourself,” you muttered, moving back to the couch. He downed the pasta and brought a glass with him to the couch, sitting down to join you. Silently you started the documentary and the two of you spent the next hour and a half completely hooked.

“So do you think he did it?” Lando asked as the credits rolled.

“I honestly have no idea, “ you replied thoughtfully.

“I think he did,” Lando said confidently and you laughed at the triumphant look on his face. The two of you had shifted closer to each other during the show, now only a short distance apart. “Every excuse he has is just ‘too perfect.’”

You started to reply but were interrupted by your phone ringing on the coffee table. You threw Lando an apologetic look before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hola y/n, just calling to check in on you,” you heard your brother say over the line.

“Hi Carlos, everything is great. I had to take over your babysitting duties for tonight,” you joked and Lando pouted at you.

“Lando is there?” Carlos asked and you snorted while Lando groaned.

“Yeah, I’ve fed him and entertained him for the night,” you said and Carlos laughed.

“No funny business okay?” Carlos asked and your face flamed red. You mumbled a goodbye to him, ignoring the look of glee on Lando’s face.

“No funny business huh,” Lando said and you flipped him off.

“Are you leaving now? It’s late,” you said and he shook his head.

“Let’s watch another one,” he said and you sighed, but agreed. Handing him the remote, you got up to get a blanket, bringing it back and throwing it over you and Lando. He picked another documentary from the options and you two settled in. You could feel yourself growing sleepier as the show went on and you constantly squirmed, trying to get comfortable.

“Lean on me,” Lando whispered, not taking off his eyes off the screen.

“What?” You whisper yelled back at him. He held his arm up and beckoned you closer . “No funny business Norris.”

“No funny business Sainz,” he said back with an amused grin. Sighing, you moved into him and it was annoying how comfy he was. Snuggling into his chest you tried to stay awake but ended up drifting off. Lando looked down at you with a small smile on his face; little did you know that he already knew Carlos was out of town, he just wanted an excuse to see you.

#formula 1 x reader #lando norris #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader

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woso-story · 28 days ago

Text

The Weight Of Love And Loss - Part One

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Last Part

The door clicked shut behind Alexia, the sound echoing in the stillness of the apartment. You stood in the kitchen, staring at the counter where her house key now sat beside the note you'd left. The apartment, once alive with laughter, the clinking of wine glasses, and the quiet murmurs of late-night conversations, now felt eerily silent. It was the same place you’d fallen in love with Alexia every day for three years, but now, it felt like a stranger’s home.

You looked around, your eyes landing on the photo of the two of you hanging by the hallway. It was taken after one of her games—a victory that had meant everything to her. Her arm was wrapped around you, her beaming smile brighter than the floodlights behind her. She’d kissed you after the photo was taken, whispering, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

But now? You weren’t sure she even saw you anymore.

---

It hadn’t always been like this.

Before her injury, Alexia was everything you could’ve dreamed of. She was magnetic, passionate, and somehow always found a way to make you feel like you were her priority, even amidst the chaos of her career. No matter how many training sessions, interviews, or away games filled her schedule, she always carved out time for you.

Date nights were sacred. Fridays at that little Italian restaurant down the street, where she’d tease you for ordering the same thing every time. Sunday mornings meant pancakes and coffee in bed, where she’d steal the blanket just to hear you groan in mock annoyance. She’d hold your hand in public, kiss your temple when you felt insecure, and whisper that you were her world.

Then came the injury.

You remembered the moment like it was yesterday. The way she clutched her knee on the pitch, her face twisted in agony. You were in the stands, your heart sinking as the medics rushed to her side. The diagnosis—a torn ACL—was devastating. But you promised her that you’d be there, no matter what.

At first, she leaned on you. She’d cry in your arms on the bad days, cursing her body for betraying her. You became her cheerleader, her nurse, her confidant. You drove her to every rehab session, stayed up late researching recovery tips, and celebrated every small victory with her.

But as the weeks turned into months, Alexia began to change.

Her frustration grew sharper, her temper shorter. The rehab wasn’t progressing as quickly as she wanted, and she lashed out at the one person who refused to leave her side—you.

“Just stop hovering!” she snapped one night when you’d tried to help her with her stretches. “I don’t need you to babysit me!”

You swallowed the hurt and gave her space, hoping it was just a bad day. But the bad days kept coming. The woman who used to hold you close now felt miles away, even when she was sitting right next to you.

---

You thought things would get better once she started to regain her strength, but if anything, they got worse. Her focus on football became obsessive, to the point where you barely saw her anymore. She spent hours at rehab, at the gym, or watching game footage. The few moments you did share were tense and fleeting—an exhausted sigh when she came home late, a distracted nod when you tried to talk about your day.

“Lex, can we have dinner together tonight?” you’d asked one evening, your voice tentative.

“I can’t,” she said without looking up from her phone. “I have a meeting with the physio.”

“But we haven’t—”

“I said I can’t!” she snapped, her tone sharp enough to make you flinch.

It was in that moment that you realized just how far apart you’d drifted.

---

The breaking point came on a Tuesday afternoon. Alexia had just come home from another long day of rehab, her face a mask of exhaustion and irritation.

“Alexia” you began cautiously, “we need to talk.”

She groaned, dropping her bag on the floor. “Not now, por favor. I’m tired.”

“No,” you said firmly, surprising even yourself. “You need to make time for this. For us.”

Her jaw tightened, but she sat down across from you, arms crossed defensively. “Fine. What is it?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. “I’m not happy, Alexia. I haven’t been for a while. I feel like I’ve lost you. Like we’ve lost us. You’re so focused on football that you don’t even see me anymore.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you have any idea how hard I’m working to get back? I’m doing this for us—for our future!”

“But at what cost?” you shot back, your voice trembling. “You’ve pushed me away. You don’t let me in. I want to help you, but you won’t let me. And I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay when it’s not.”

She stood abruptly, shaking her head. “I don’t have time for this right now. I have to go—I have another session.”

“Alexia, please,” you begged, tears streaming down your face. “If you walk out that door right now, I don’t think I’ll be here when you get back.”

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, her hand on the doorknob. Then, with a huff, she turned and walked out.

---

Packing your things was the hardest thing you’d ever done. Every item felt like a betrayal—a reminder of the love you still felt but couldn’t hold onto anymore. The framed photo of you and Alexia on your first vacation together. The jersey she’d given you, signed with a heartfelt message. The books you’d read together, curled up on the couch during lazy Sundays.

You left the key and the note on the counter, your tears smudging the ink as you wrote:

"Thank you for the time we had together. I will never forget anything. I hope you find your happiness again."

You took one last look around the apartment, the place where you’d built so many memories, and walked out the door.

---

In the days that followed, the ache in your chest was unbearable. You missed her laugh, her touch, the way she used to look at you like you were the only person in the world. But as much as it hurt, you knew you’d made the right choice.

Alexia needed to find herself again, and so did you.

And though the pain felt endless now, you held onto the hope that someday, you’d both find happiness again—whether together or apart.

#alexia putellas x reader #woso community #woso #barca femeni #woso x reader #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia x reader #woso fics #alexia putellas

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melosliving · 3 days ago

Text

aaron pierre & kelvin harrison jr x actress!reader

reading thirst tweets !

Sitting in your chair for what felt like hours now, you fidgeted with your fingers, trying to calm your racing mind. Today, you were having an interview with Kelvin and Aaron, and for once, you were the first one to plant your pretty self in the assigned chair, right in front of the numerous cameras.

Surprisingly, interviews were always stressful for you. You actually hated them, but because you loved your job so much, you were willing to endure this overwhelming experience. “Look who’s on time for once!” aaron teased, making you lift your head to see both guys standing in front of you, their cologne lingering faintly in the air. They looked good. “And wearing heels? Damn, you look good, good,” Kelvin added with a smirk, sitting to your left.

“Thank you, boo. You both smell amazing, but my allergies might kick in,” you joked, crossing your legs with a light laugh. “What’s on the agenda today ?” Aaron asked, looking between you and Kelvin. “We’re reading thirst tweets,” you replied, burying your head in your hands. You already knew this was going to be chaotic.

“Y’all ready?” one of the staff members asked, approaching with a phone in hand. You nodded along with the guys but extended your hand to take the phone, resting it casually on your lap. The filming lead gave you a small nod, signaling that the video had started. “Hello there, I’m ❁, and I’m here with my handsome–” you began with a playful grin.

“Wow,” Kelvin interrupted, smirking.

“Talented, brilliant–” you continued, teasing as the two men echoed a dramatic “Woooooow!” in unison, both laughing at you.

“And charming co-stars, Aaron Pierre and Kelvin Harrison Jr. Today, we are reading your nastiest tweets!” you finished, giggling as they clapped dramatically. “I’m actually so ready for this,” Kelvin laughed. “Let me read the first one.” He reached for the phone and gently took it from your lap. “Okay, so the first one says : ‘I just want Kelvin to grab my butt, is that so hard to ask?’”

Your eyebrows shot up as you looked directly at the camera. “That’s a crazy thing to say,” Aaron laughed. “Are you sure you just want him to grab your ass, though ? He could do so much more, girl.” you teased, turning to Kelvin, who raised an eyebrow at the camera with a cheeky smirk.

“Actually, that’s not too much to ask,” Kelvin admitted, leaning back in his chair.

You grabbed the phone back, handing it to Aaron. “Doggy, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl—okay, I need to stop because my mom might watch this,” Aaron read, his face turning red as he broke into laughter. “Why are you so shy ?” you teased, nudging him playfully. “stop playing with me,” Aaron muttered, flicking your forehead lightly.

“Every time ❁ speaks french, I get pregnant ! Mind you, I am a woman,” you read next, aaron’s laughter barely contained. You turned dramatically to look at both men. “Actually, if you think her french is hot, wait till you hear her Spanish–” Kelvin began, pointing at you. Before he could finish, you slapped your hand over his mouth. “Oh my god, stop him!” you exclaimed, laughing.

The crew erupted into laughter as Kelvin leaned closer and whispered, “You’re gonna have to let me finish that later thought.” You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Kelvin took the phone back, still giggling. “Alright, this one says : ‘Kelvin can ruin my life. Like… destroy me emotionally, financially, physically. I’m free Tuesday, by the way.’”

“Tuesday’s no good for me, but maybe next Friday,” Kelvin quipped, glancing at the camera with a grin. You groaned, laughing. “Not you checking your schedule! That’s crazy.” you teased. Aaron shook his head, leaning over to read the next one. “‘Aaron Pierre could sneeze in my direction, I would say thank you, daddy.’” He burst out laughing, handing the phone back to you. “Wow, so we’re sneezing now? That’s where we’re at?” Aaron joked, shaking his head.

“Let me take the last one,” you said, scrolling to another tweet. “‘I would let ❁ step on my neck in heels and say thank you for the opportunity.’”Kelvin turned to look at your feet. “And she got the heels on and everything. Don’t let this opportunity go to waste!” You rolled your eyes dramatically, laughing. “Y’all are ridiculous!”

By the end of the shoot, the three of you were exhausted from laughing so much. As the cameras turned off, Kelvin leaned in with a soft smile. “You know,” he said quietly, “you really are the epitome of charming. And you know I mean that.”

You couldn’t help but blush and push him as Aaron interjected, “there he goes again.” The three of you burst out laughing one last time, ending the day on a high note.

@ melosliving 2025

#aaron pierre x reader #actress!reader #aaron pierre x black reader #kelvin harrison jr fluff #mufasa : the lion king #kelvin harrison jr x reader #kelvin harrison jr.#aaron pierre #aaron pierre fluff

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coco-loco-nut · 8 months ago

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Book Club - Part 9

pairing: grid x reader

summary: you just got your wisdom teeth out, just in time for winter break fun with headcanons

a/n: thanks for the request, I missed the club❤️ ALSO! the original post just hit 1,500 notes??? like guys🥹 ilysm, you don’t even know. you are still reading my silly little writings, and i appreciate that more than you know. every like, comment, and reblog is the reason we are here 9 parts later (seriously you should see how happy i am when i see comments)

requests open masterlist

——————

- You didn’t tell anyone else on the grid other than Lance, obviously

- They were all surprised when it was announced that you were going to be missing Abu Dahbi

- Your oral surgeon only had that Wednesday free before Christmas

- …and let’s be real, your seat was secure, you weren’t going to win the WDC, and the constructors championship was locked in

- You would raise hell if you couldn’t enjoy the food around the holidays, so missing the last race it was

- You were exhausted from the season and appreciated the early break

- Lance just let it slip to the drivers on Friday a couple of hours after he got there

- You were sitting at home with Kimi, swollen and in pain all Friday

- “What do you mean she won’t be here? We have our presents for her” Fernando pouts

- Charles one day ships you cases of his gelato with a note telling you to feel better, he’s trying to get into the club for the gossip

- Lance gets invited to the club meeting to his surprise

- He assumes that they want to check in on you, despite them blowing up your phone

- No, he was VERY wrong

- Lance got roped into showing them videos of you on drugs

- Their favorite was the one of you when you first came out from being under

- “I’m married? Oh my god, I married Nico Hülkenberg? This is the best day of my life”

- You were sobbing tears of joy

- Nico was sent the video immediately, you gave him permission via text to post it the next day

- The second favorite was your favorite to laugh at

- You went on a massive rant about how Susie Wolff is a MILF and how you hoped Toto could fight because the female driver was your woman crush and you WILL have her

- Susie loved the video (George and Lewis sent it in the Mercedes family gc), Toto… not as much but he was amused

- You got a lot of fussing drivers on Facetime during the meeting

- You were loopy af from the painkillers and general exhaustion during it, it wasn’t your fault they called you late

- Kimi forced them to shut up and hang up so you could sleep

- Carlos joked about being relieved that there wasn’t another race for you to follow his trend during an interview

- You won the first race the next year

- Your phone started blowing up with messages on social media wishing you a quick recovery

- Most of the book club showed up to your home after Abu Dahbi, wanting to make a quick stop to check in before the break

- “Hello, wife,” Nico greets you when he sees you

- You joked you were about to file for divorce from Lance, who just sighed and went to get you a carton of LEC

- You had to film you opening your secret santa gift and send it to the F1 social team

- You got a quilt blanket that had a square for each book you read with the club since it started

- You actually started sobbing (you blamed the meds, even if you were actually crying)

- Lewis got the biggest hug ever, he enlisted help from Valtteri for all the books

- You forced them to cut the parts of you crying out of the video

- You got Logan an old iPod full of popular music (you hacked into his phone to check the genres he liked) from his childhood and now

- Obviously you added headphones and a couple chargers

- Logan used it all the time, he called you immediately to thank you

- You had the honors of choosing the first book over winter break

- You chose an F1 romance novel

- Boy oh boy were those meetings fun, just tearing up the book for its inaccuracy

- Daniel vowed to write an accurate one and sell it

- Spoiler Alert: he never did

- But Fernando did

- It was an international bestseller

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 grid #f1 grid x reader #daniel ricciardo #george russell #logan sargeant #nico hulkenberg #kevin magnussen #valtteri bottas #lewis hamilton #fernando alonso #lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #book club #book club is back #silly little headcanons

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sunkissedscribbles · 2 months ago

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☆ 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸𝑅𝑆 𝑅𝑂𝐶𝐾 – 𝐴𝑅𝐴𝐵𝐸𝐿𝐿𝐴 𝐼𝐼.

PAIRING: singer!guitarist!mattheo x arabella!journalist!reader TW: swearing maybe, mentions of alcohol, sex and drugs WORD COUNT: 1.2k A/N: I'm in love with singer!guitarist!mattheo who is still a hopeless romantic SONGS: Lovers Rock by TV Girl // PLAYLIST

☆ MASTERLIST PART1 PART2

✰ Are you sick of me? Would you like to be? I'm trying to tell you something Something that I already said

Mattheo’s been restless ever since you left him there like that, standing alone on the stage as you claimed to work for the Rolling Stone magazine, feeling as if he was in a dream, or on acid – euphoric; the unmistakable feeling wouldn’t have left him alone for even a second for two entire days. However, this euphoria had turned into nervousness over time, but the boys wouldn’t have for god’s sake left him alone. No, they kept teasing him endlessly with you.

“Dude, you need to call her up finally,” Theo started the conversation the other evening, standing by the window, smoking.

Mattheo just hummed at the declaration, reaching into the fridge for the leftover pizza.

“Yeah, man, we need the interview and you need the girl. I mean, it’s a win-win situation,” Dax continued.

Mattheo stayed quiet yet again. He knew this was the opportunity, but also, this was the girl. The girl who made him feel like a giddy teenager again who’d got a crush on the cool, edgy girl. He felt like he was in Freaky Friday, just the other way around. He knew he’d work his courage up eventually because it had been bugging him for weeks. You – you had been bugging him for weeks before he’d even get to meet you. Ever since you had crept into his dreams and he wrote ‘Arabella’, and an only-ever-expanding list of songs.

And he had your number, it was as if the Universe had been shouting at him abruptly to just make that bloody move for a relationship he clearly had been craving.

After a few more minutes of Mattheo’s awful silence, Enzo jumps up from the sofa. “Where’s the paper? I’ll call her if you won’t.”

Mattheo froze. You gave him your number, not Enzo. You wanted him to call, right? Not Enzo. And what if when you heard Enzo’s posh accent you just, boom, fell for him? What if you were into bassists? No, he had to man up and talk to you. And as his insecurities got the best of him, he stepped away from the counter and took his phone out of his pocket, flipping it to take the piece of paper with your pretty handwriting on it out of the phone case. “I’ll call her,” he emphasized the pronoun, maybe a bit too possessively.

☆☆☆☆

“So, how did the name Pureblood Trauma come?”

“We were high,” Theo started but Mattheo took the opportunity from his friend to explain the meaning behind it, shifting in his seat across you, his eyes raking over your features every now and then.

“We had this joke about our parents being obsessed with blue blood and how they weren’t any better than the Aryan or Nazis.”

They all thought back to how Enzo’s suggestion of the band name, who was clearly joking, but still utterly high, had earned giggles turning into hearty laughter from the three other young men.

After a few questions about the band itself, you switched to asking some about their songs which clearly had potential, even if we only looked at the lyrics.

“Your song, Arabella, or a recording of it, has become quite popular on the internet. The muse, Arabella seems quite the mysterious type, and almost over-this-world, and you’ve got some creative metaphors for her personality. How did you come up with her character?” you inquired.

Enzo and Dax managed to keep their cool with only a twitch of their lips and a shared glance, but Theo’s quiet snort came out muffled, muttering a ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ as he looked over at Mattheo whose cheeks had gone a few shades pinker at the question. Because, god, how could he tell you it was about you?

“Um, it’s about a girl I once saw in my dream, and she kept reappearing in my sleep after. The idea of her just had me in a chokehold for weeks. She seemed so real but could never really… grasp her character until somehow I came up with the line ‘And a helter-skelter round her little finger and I ride it endlessly’ after Theo pointed out how this girl seemed to have me wrapped around her little finger,” he explained, carefully leaving out the details about how your hair bounced in his dreams, how your lips wrapped around the cigarette you two shared, and it was you, generally, who had him in that desperate chokehold.

You can’t help but be intrigued by the idea of this girl only being a mere memory of a few dreams, because, hell, she felt like she was so much more than that; real, and you couldn’t help but identify with her vibe, the resonance her personality flooded, what felt intergalactic, almost.

You were also impressed by the way Mattheo expressed his attraction to this mysticism with all the metaphors he used. The one about the helter-skelter ‘round Arabella’s little finger meaning he was under her spell, got him wrapped around her little finger, and also meaning how confusing his love for this girl is. Or how he describes her as prettier than the sunset. You were convinced that was impossible.

☆☆☆☆

You knew doing this, asking him to go out for a few drinks wasn’t very professional of you.

But you couldn’t help it at the same time.

You wanted to know more, and more, and more about Arabella, but also, about the mastermind behind the lyrics. You were certain you could listen to Mattheo talk pretty much all day and night, as well as listen to him sing for the same amount of time.

Or just stare at him.

And you had. Oh, how much you had listened to him and stared at him at the pub, on the way to your apartment, and during the night; while he was rocking his hips against yours and during the aftermath, as in smoking by your open living room window, the candles, the subtle red light of your vintage record player and the end table light by your black leather couch creating an ambient light for the two of you to enjoy each other’s company.

He was growing more and more infatuated with you, and he knew he was walking a dangerous sole, a slippery slope that could lead to heartbreak if his obvious feelings for you had been unrequited.

But they weren’t, and you made that obvious by repeating this night over and over, and by always making coffee for the both of you the next morning, always finding an excuse for him to stay a bit longer, and never missing an opportunity to talk to him.

Sitting by the narrow counter island over your coffee, you glanced over at him while playing with the ring on your thumb that you took off of Mattheo’s index finger the previous night, the one with the emerald-eyed snake. “That night, at the concert. You called me Arabella. Why?” you asked, having no clue how to word it at first.

He took a bit of time before answering.

“Because you are. You are the girl from and of my dreams,” he took your hand in his and pressed his lips to your knuckles.

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mattiesgf @mqstermindswift @girllblogging777 @myysunshine @yelanare @mamartinez

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