Hii! You Could Do A Rublev X Reader Tennis Player Where He Gets Jealous Of Her While She Talks To Another

hii! you could do a rublev x reader tennis player where he gets jealous of her while she talks to another tennis player, if you want you can modify the request and sorry if it got confusing, english is not my first language, i love your blog!!🤍

A step forward

Pairing: Andrey Rublev x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

Author’s Note: i really had fun writing this imagine! i hope you like it, lovely anon! 💖💖 also: English isn’t my first language, so I’m very sorry for mistakes!

* Y/N = your name

MY MASTERLIST

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

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You know something is wrong when you saw Andrey pressing his lips together and narrowing his eyes in suspicion, but you don’t know what’s the reason. In your eyes everything was fine.

Andrey just finished an intense practise session with Grigor Dimitrov. He showed that he is in a good shape and ready for the next tournament.

You are in the middle of a conversation with the Bulgarian, so all you can do is give Andrey a questioning look, but your boyfriend doesn’t react to your nonverbal question and just stares at the two of you.

“I saw the paining you posted on Instagram this morning!”, Grigor beams at you while taking off his headband, “It’s very beautiful!”

Grigor's compliment catches you completely off guard, and you can’t help but blush: “Uhm…thank you…that’s very kind.”

You love painting and drawing, and Andrey encouraged you to publish some of them online. You set up a separate Instagram account and after only five days your page had A LOT of followers – even some tennis players started following it: Karen Khachanov, Dominc Thiem, Grigor Dimitrov, … Without Andrey you wouldn't have dared to publish it, you're too insecure about it. But Andrey is passionate about your drawings and paintings and has persuaded you to share them with the world.

The older one shakes his head and steps closer to you: “No, I’m serious! You are really talented! I especially love your pencil drawings!”, he sighs still grinning, “I wish I had any talents…” You are way too involved in your conversation to notice Andrey’s snort and the way he stares at Grigor coldly.

Instead you can’t help but blur out: “I mean, from what I've heard so far, you're a pretty good tennis player.”

Grigor blinks at you in surprise before he starts laughing as well: “What you have heard? You just saw me practise?!”

“Yeah…I’m sure you can do better.”

The two of you are now laughing at the top of your lungs. When Andrey introduced you to other tennis players, you couldn’t say a single word. You are a big tennis fan since you were a little kid – always watching matches with your father – and suddenly you are meeting all the players. The first you got to know was Karen, who was really friendly, polite and calm but you were so nervous before your meeting that you nearly hyperventilate. So joking with Grigor was a HUGE step and you are really proud of yourself in that moment.

Grigor turns around and nudges Andrey with his elbow: “Cheeky! Andrey, Y/N is very bold! Did you hear what she said to me?!”

Andrey doesn’t join you in your laughing, his voice is rather cold: “No, I didn’t hear what my girlfriend said to you.”

Something about his emphasis makes you pause your laughing: You have never ever heard this kind of undertone in Andrey’s voice. Your relationship is quite new, next Monday would be your 3-month-anniversary and you know you both have a lot to learn and discover about each other but that was completely new.

Grigor also notices that something is different now and clears his throat quietly, no one says anything.

“I gonna take a shower.”, Andrey doesn’t look at any of you, “See you tomorrow, Grigor! See you later at lunch, Y/N!”, he presses a quick kiss on your left cheek and storms off of the court before you could say a single word.

Fernando Vicente is standing next to the bench, packing the bags. You have a good relationship with Andrey’s coach – at the end of the day he was the one who introduced you to Andrey.

You bite your lip and walk over to him: “Fernando?”, you wait until he turns around, “Maybe it’s nothing but…but…do you…uhm…what’s up with Andrey?”

Ferando looks at you, looking completely surprised: “You don’t know?”

“No?”, you are feeling quite stupid because it’s seeming like it’s very obvious what is wrong with your boyfriend.

Suddenly you hear Andrey yell from outside the practise court: “FERNANDO!”

Now that’s an undertone you know: your boyfriend is annoyed and impatient. Fernando knows the undertone as well and hurries up collecting his things.

“He is jealous!”, is everything Fernando says before he quickly grabs the bags and almost jogs across the court to follow Andrey back to the main building.

Andrey has a short break after lunch, so you make your way back to your hotel room after eating with the whole team.

Your boyfriend was very quiet and so everything was a bit tensed. You take a deep breath and sit down next to Andrey on the big couch: “Andrey?”

You wait until he puts down the phone – although you can see that he feels nervous about what you might say: “Yeah?”

It’s not easy to find the right words, because on one hand you can’t imagine how Andrey could be jealous on someone – in your eyes he was the most wonderful human on this planet – but on the other hand you want to take his feelings and thoughts seriously.

It takes you a lot of courage to look at him when asking the next question: “This morning on the practise court, were you really jealous?”

Andrey bites his lip, while he nervously strokes through his hair: “Mhhh…maybe.”

“Why are you jealous on Grigor? You know, there is no need for that?”

He makes a dismissive gesture and shrugs his shoulders awkwardly: “He is very handsome, isn’t he?”

You can’t help but shake your head in disbelief and move closer to him: “Oh yes, he really is…”, you can’t help but grin, “But I know an ATP player who is even more handsome. Do you want to know who it is?”

Andrey gives you a quick look from the corner of his eyes, voice quiet: “Not really.”

“Too bad. I gonna tell you either way.”, you take his hand in yours, “It’s a Russian player…I think his name is Andrey Rublev. Have you ever heard of him?”

Andrey shoots you a half annoyed-half angry glance but the corners of his mouth lift because of your words.

“So, do you know him?”, you continue to play your little ‘game’. Your head skips a beat when a shy smile spreads across his face.

He rolls his eyes, but his smile is getting bigger and bigger: “Maybe…”

“Yeah, I think you do know him. You must know him…because he is really really handsome. The most handsome guy on the whole tour. And he is very funny, and caring…sometimes he is very stubborn as well but that’s okay.”

“And sometimes he is a little stupid because he gets jealous without any reason?”

You shake your head very quickly and look him straight in the eyes now: “No, you aren’t stupid for getting jealous! It’s okay…I understand it.”

You can see that Andrey is relieved about your words – mainly because you two talked about it. Andrey had problems thinking about this all midday.

“You know what’s funny?”, you finally start talking again and chuckle, “There was a tiny little moment during today’s practise session where I thought: Maybe I have to be jealous of Grigor because you two were so cute together…”

Andrey looks at you with big eyes, before he starts giggling and shakes his head: “No no no, I’ll always choose you! You’re way cuter than Grigor!”

He takes your face between his hands and kisses you softly.

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tagging: @bluetackbaby @lxndonorris @fedalev

Meet the Teacher

Pairing: Modern!Older!Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Teacher!Reader

Summary: Eddie meets his daughter's new kindergarten teacher and he's pretty sure you're his wet dream come to life. AKA: single dad!Eddie fantasizes about you while he jerks off.

Word Count: 2.4K

Tags: 🔥SMUT, modern au, masturbation, implied road head, pervert!Eddie, switch!Eddie (sort of)

A/N: She's a short queen, standing just over 2k words tall- barely more than a blurb. Quick 'lil read, but I hope y'all enjoy her ❤️

🍎🍎🍎

Eddie needed to calm down.

This wasn’t the time for him to be straining against his jeans, getting hot and bothered at seven o’clock on a Tuesday evening. Wasn’t the place. Hell, given his history with school in general, he should feel uncomfortable as fuck in all sorts of other ways, sitting in a classroom for the first time in over a decade. The last time Eddie remembered being happy to be in a classroom was Miss Adami’s fifth grade class. She had always been nice to him. 

Eddie wouldn’t mind if this teacher were nice to him…

Fucking. Stop. You horny bastard. Eddie chided himself mentally, Get it together, Munson.

He crossed his leg over the opposite knee, willing his half-mast dick to soften the fuck down, and fast. Eddie did his best not to draw attention to himself as he readjusted his position in the too-small plastic chair, scooted about a foot away from the hilariously low table he was currently sitting by. 

He focused his gaze on Raven, his daughter, who sat criss-cross-applesauce on the rainbow-colored rug at the front of the classroom. Her big brown eyes were wide, rapt as she watched her new teacher leading her and all the other five-year-olds in a song that required various hand motions and claps and whatnot. Eddie couldn’t help but grin fondly at the little tyke as she listened intently to every direction, determined to do every little thing her teacher asked of her without a single flaw. 

The only problem was that no matter how cute his daughter was, no matter how much Eddie tried desperately to control himself, he couldn’t tear his eyes off you.

He knew schools were loosening up on rules and regulations and all that- more and more school districts now allowed teachers to dye their hair unconventional colors, show tattoos, have more than just their earlobes pierced, blah blah blah…

But he hadn’t expected his daughter’s kindergarten teacher to look this fucking hot. 

You were something straight out of his fantasies. Like some hybrid rockabilly/alt girl/teacher hybrid, with hair that shone such a vibrant red that he knew there was no way it was natural. Fine by him. Tattooed sleeves of black-inked flowers crawled up your arms, showcasing some of the most beautiful linework and shading that Eddie had ever seen. His eyes followed the vines without his permission, taking account of the foxglove at your right forearm, the hyacinth on your left elbow, the cluster of lilacs that peeked out of the capsleeve on your shoulder. 

And oh, god, he couldn’t look at the snake that coiled around your knee. He hadn’t seen it at first, but when you’d sat down in your chair at the front of the classroom, your dress had crept up your lower thigh, allowing the snake to slither into view, and fuck, Eddie wasn’t sure he’d be able to pay much attention to whatever information you’d be delivering that he probably needed to know. All he could hope was that you’d been considerate enough to print out any necessary information so he could read it later.

Tearing his eyes from his daughter’s teacher (christ, Eddie really was a horny bastard, this was in no way okay), he pulled his phone from his pocket in an effort to provide himself a distraction.

“Ahem.”

Eddie’s gaze shot up from his phone screen, realizing shamefully that your eyes were trained on him, catching him red-handed in the middle of using his phone in class (which was funny, since he technically wasn’t ‘in class’, just in a classroom). Still, that didn’t seem to make a difference to you as you raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him to do anything other than slip that phone back into his pocket. Trapped under your authoritative glare, Eddie gulped, cock twitching slightly as he slid the phone back into the pocket of his charcoal jeans. 

The moment your eyes left him, you were back to wide smiles that crinkled around your lashes, clapping along with the kids who already adored you, even though you technically wouldn’t be their teacher until next week. It didn’t matter- they were infatuated with you, a sentiment that Eddie could understand completely. 

When Eddie stepped up to shake your hand on the way out of your classroom that evening, his heart had leapt at the look that you gave him- one eyebrow raised, the corner of your lipsticked mouth clipping up in a wry, knowing smile. 

Just like you’d done for every child before they left your classroom that day, you first crouched down until your eyes were level with Raven’s and asked if she would prefer a hug or a high five. Unsurprisingly, the little firecracker had responded by simply throwing her arms around your neck, clinging to you with the reckless abandon and generous trust that only a five-year-old could give so freely. When you stood to shake Eddie’s hand, he had to bite back a what, I don’t get to pick a hug or high five? 

“Raven,” you said, voice still lifted with excitable inflection that would make any little ankle biter’s ears perk up like a doberman’s. “I can already tell you’re an excellent student. Do you think you can help your daddy remember all of the things we talked about today?” 

Raven’s eyes lit up, and her wispy curls shook as she nodded her head in agreement. “Uh-huh!”

Eddie gave his daughter’s hand a squeeze and nudged her lightly with his knee. “Yes ma’am.” he prompted, and it was echoed in her tiny, polite voice upon hearing his reminder. 

Your eyes flicked up to his, approval in your gaze dancing with the teasing sarcasm in your smile. “Excellent manners.” you praised, and Eddie wasn’t sure if you were talking to him or to his daughter. Either was fine with him. 

You took his hand in yours, shook it all-businesslike with a polite “Nice to meet you, Mr. Munson.” and before Eddie knew it, he was out the door. However, his mind was still on the cherry-red shine of your hair. The crimson varnish on your nails. The sweetheart neckline of your fifties-style dress, and how when you crouched down and he stayed standing he could see the top of a black lace bra underneath. 

Good god, he was a pervert.

It was all he could think about on the way home, all he could think about while Raven watched one of those Minions movies for the twentieth time before bed. All he could think about after he’d tucked her in, kissed her goodnight, and retreated to his own bedroom to think about you while he touched himself. 

Eddie was old-fashioned- he didn’t need porn. His imagination was a talented machine, fine-tuned after decades of dreaming up campaigns and writing songs. When he laid down on his mattress, it didn’t take long for him to conjure up the image of you there with him, climbing onto his lap, hiking up that black and white polka dotted dress until he could see the tattoos that he imagined must decorate your thighs. 

He spat into his hand, sighing as he felt the slick coat his cock with each pass of his hand. He applied the most pressure with his thumb, flicking it over that ridge beneath the head that felt fucking phenomenal when touched the way he liked. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine your red-painted nails slipping over the head of his cock, tongue poking out to kitten-lick the very tip while you looked at him with big, bright, forbidden eyes.

Your crimson-stained lips, shiny with spit, would envelop him warmly, causing him to groan ecstatically as his hips bucked into your mouth. His cock, fully hard and throbbing, would slide down your throat as you shoved your lips- no, as Eddie shoved your lips further and further down his shaft until your nose smushed against the hair at his groin. His hand would span across the back of your head, pushing you down and holding you there until you gagged around him, and God, that would feel so good, your desperate swallowing around his throbbing dick and the noises you would make- what noises would you make?

He imagined your voice as he fisted his cock, wove melodies of moans in his head that he could pull from your mouth. Would they be deep? Guttural? Or would you be the kind of moaner that whimpered at the highest register you had? Would you be loud, so loud that the neighbors would hear- either that, or he would just have to gag you. Slap his hand over your mouth. Stuff your panties between your lips (which he was sure were black lace to match your bra). Or would you be more assertive, quick to put Eddie in his place like you did today when he’d taken out his phone?

Which did he want to call you: baby? Or ma’am? He imagined trying both out on you while he was balls-deep in your wet little pussy, and thought about which word would make you squeeze him tighter. 

God, Eddie was so fucking horny. It had been so long since he’d cum inside anything that wasn’t his own hand. He thought about whether or not it would be inappropriate to text the cell phone number you’d provided in the email you’d sent out to the parents/guardians of your class. What would he even say? 

Evening, miss. Was nice to meet you tonight. Feel like grabbing a drink? 

Could he? Would that be appropriate?

He got harder just thinking about it. It definitely would not be appropriate… but what if you said yes anyway? What if you actually agreed to see him? What if you both hit it off? What if you actually did come back to his place with him, let him slide his hand around your waist, hold you close enough to smell the perfume on your neck? Let him see that lacy bra in all its glory?

The fantasy of an evening played out in his mind’s eye: Eddie would pick you up at your house, and you would answer the door wearing a cherry-colored dress that hugged your curves, painting you red to match your hair, your nails, and the angry shade of his cock. In the car, his fingers would brush the skin of your thigh, tracing the inked designs that lived there as you answered his questions about what you liked, what you didn’t, what you wanted or hated. Your hand would snake over to his thigh in turn, trace the seam of his black jeans- the ones that hugged his legs in all the right places- and the sensation would get him hard on the spot, right there in his car. 

Would you be scared away by that? By how quickly you turned him on, drove him nuts. Or would it turn you on too, making you sigh, a rumble through your chest as he felt your delicate, red-tipped fingers brush his hardening cock through the tightening fabric. Would you unbuckle his belt? Unbutton his pants? Unzip his fly and free his throbbing dick into the cool night air, only to shock him with the warm, wet feel of your mouth while he continued to cruise down a Hawkins country road?

Eddie groaned, feeling his release creep up on him. Closer and closer he drew, and with every stroke of his cock he succumbed further into his hazy vision of you. Now you were back in bed with him, naked and bouncing on his cock. You were rubbing your clit as you moved your hot, wet pussy up and down his shaft, leaving milky white wet in your wake. In his fantasy, you were arching your back, moaning as he thrust himself into you at a pace that hit places within you that made you cry out his name. 

His movements were getting faster, his grip growing tighter as it slipped over his cock at a speed that he knew would result in a sore arm tomorrow but he didn’t care- his release would be worth it. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, imagining your knees quivering as you made yourself cum on his cock. Imagining your body convulsing under waves of pleasure, your thighs threatening to close against his strong hands holding them open. You would moan and mewl and chant his name, and conjuring up the sound of his name as it left your lips was what did it for Eddie.

Heavy, white ropes of cum dripped over his knuckles, painting his stomach and sliding over the shining crevices of his rings. He stroked himself slower, coming down from his release with a shuddering sigh. 

It only took a few moments for the fact that he just jacked off to the thought of his daughter’s kindergarten teacher to sink in. 

Eddie didn’t feel… creepy… but he could tell there was a definite line he’d crossed somewhere. However, he was tired, and decided that he would deal with the moral implications tomorrow. 

***

The next time Eddie saw you, you were working the car line after school. He’d taken note of the Metallica shirt you were wearing, and rolled down his window, turning up the volume on his stereo. He watched as your smile broadened when you recognized For Whom the Bell Tolls. 

“Here for Raven?” You’d asked with a lopsided grin. Your voice was just as sweet as he remembered.

“Yep,” he’d replied, nodding to your t-shirt, “but if you want to keep her for a few more hours, I think I just decided I trust you with my kid even more than I did before.”

You grinned, showing all of your teeth this time. “She’s a cool kid.” you paused, as if debating whether to finish your sentence. “...I can see where she gets it.”

Eddie beamed, his smirk reaching up to the crow’s feet at his eyes. “You think I’m cool?”

You matched him, smirk for smirk, going as far as to lean your forearms onto the passenger side window sill. “You carry yourself like someone who knows they’re cool.”

Eddie stared at you for a moment, debating for an entirely too-short length of time whether or not he should shoot his shot. 

Fuck it. 

“Cool enough to buy you a drink sometime?”

tumblr right now

hozier really was like imma make a song for the girlies with the fucked up sleep schedules like good for all you well-adjusted watch the sunrise people but the rest of us are simply gonna snork mimimi till midday peace and love

Driver's License | Keys

You decide to tease your friend after seeing his real name on his ID — coworker!keys x reader fluff

warnings: alcohol consumption since the oneshot takes place at a bar

words: 0.8k

a/n: this is my first keys fic and I know this is niche as hell but i've been obsessed with him lately so expect more lol

The bar was one of the more popular ones—which means there’s sometimes a line outside in the cold—but it was the one you always went to because it was walking distance from work. You, Keys, and Mouser stood in line shivering and wondering what was taking so damn long. 

“Should we just go somewhere else?” You asked the guys. 

“No, it’s fine.” Keys answered. “We’re almost at the front anyways.”

Mouser looked like he was about to say otherwise, but then dropped his protests. “Keys, can you like, stand on your toes and see what’s going on?”

He obliged and stood up as tall as he could, looking for the front of the line. After a few seconds of the most perfect posture you’d ever seen on your friend, he slumped back down to his normal height. 

“It’s not the regular bouncer. This one’s checking, like, everyone’s IDs for five minutes each.” Keys explained, pulling out his wallet already.

You held back a laugh at the obvious hyperbole and thanked him for the update on what was taking this line so long to move. 

Keys was right; you were actually close to the front of the line. It was still unbearably cold and it wasn’t even winter yet. Keys saw your discomfort and wrapped an arm around you. Maybe that was more than a coworker slash friend should do, but hey, you work at a video game company: nothing was really like other workplaces. 

Once you were finally at the doors, the new bouncer asked for IDs from all three of you—which you thought was ridiculous because none of you looked like you were minors—and thoroughly scanned each one of them. 

Yours was first, and maybe the quickest. Mouser showed his ID next, and then it was Keys’ turn. The worker looked at his driver’s license for longer than he had yours and Mouser’s, then passed it back to Keys with the card in between his index and middle finger. 

Keys seemed to be in a rush to put it back into his wallet, and when you caught a glimpse of it as he shut the leather flaps, you understood why. 

Your friend had never told you his real name before. Come to think of it, you weren’t sure he’s told anyone. What was perhaps his biggest secret was now in your hands, and there were infinite possibilities on what to do with it. 

You kept quiet while the group picked a booth to sit at, then went up to order a round of kamikaze shots to start the night off with a bang. After you’d all taken one shot together, Mouser went off to use the washroom, leaving just you and Keys together. 

Impatient as always, you had decided now was the time to do something with your newly acquired information. Biting back a smile, you tried to act as inconspicuous as possible. 

“You know what?” You started. “I know we still have a round of shots, but I’m gonna head up to the bar and get something with as many maraschino cherries as they’ll let me have. Do you want anything?”

He shook his head, smiling at your drink request. “No, I’m alright. I’ll stay here.”

You stood up, bringing a dollar bill from your purse to tip the bartender. “Okay, I’ll be back, Walter.”

He didn’t even notice your use of his name at first. But when your words played back over in his head—as most things you say to him do—his eyes widened and he shot up from the seat. 

“How did you— I don’t tell people my real name.” Keys said softly but urgently. 

You smiled at him. “I know. I saw it on your driver’s license outside. I just wanted to tease you a bit since I’m now one of the only people in the world who knows it.”

“You are.” He confirmed. “Just, please don’t use it at work or anything. I just think it’s embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than ‘Keys’?” You giggled. You started walking towards the bar, and he followed closely behind. “You don’t need to worry, though. I like being the keeper of your secret.”

Relief washed over his face. “Thank you.”

You waved over one of your favourite bartenders, then brought your attention back to Keys. “Just for the record, I actually like your real name. It’s like a cute old man you live next to and bring in the newspaper for.” 

He bit the inside of his cheek and stood up from the barstool. “You know, just for that, I do want a drink. You’re buying it for me.”

You rubbed his upper arm to confirm there was nothing bad between you. “I’ll surprise you, Walt.” You told him as he walked back to your booth. 

Unsurprisingly, you were met with his turned back and a middle finger flipped at you. 

begging on my knees for dilf jenson pls 😭 maybe his kids sneaking up on him when he’s on media duty and them trying to take his job lmaooo love your writings so much!

i didn’t do it | jenson button

dilf jenson dilf jenson dilf jenson also thanks for the request!!! yes ik jenson wasn’t in bahrain let’s ignore that 😍

The 2024 season had started and Jenson already had his hands full with two kids that had a little too much sugar. You had fallen sick so you couldn’t join your family to the season opener. Jenson thought it would be best to take both kids with him to let you rest and get better. Of course you trusted your husband to be alone with the kids, but he had a job to do and you didn’t want the kids to be alone while Jenson was working. Jenson assured you he would keep them close by and he meant it.

When you turned on the television to watch your husband, you didn’t think that your kids would also be making their television debut. You smiled as you saw your twin kids sneakily walking towards their dad, who was listening to Will Buxton talk.

Your son, Jack, gently placed a sticker on Jenson’s back. After placing more, Jack gave the sticker sheet to his sister, Ophelia, so she could do the same. It quickly turned into a ‘how many stickers can you stick on your dad’s jacket without him noticing?’ game and so far it was twenty.

“I think we have some guests here.” Will laughed as Jack and Ophelia placed the last sticker on Jenson’s back.

Jenson turned around and saw his kids laughing at him. “What are my babies doing?”

“Nothing!” Jack innocently said while laughing. He then whispered to his sister. “Don’t tell dad.”

But Jenson heard and got curious. “Tell dad what?”

“I didn’t do it! Ophelia did!”

“Jack!” Ophelia giggled and couldn’t resist spoiling their plan. “Look at your back! You have Olaf and Elsa and puppies!”

Jenson turned to his colleagues and saw them laughing. “Do I have something on my back?” He acted clueless.

“A few things, yeah.”

Jenson could care less. It was his kids’ artwork and he was going to wear it proudly even if it was a bunch of stickers on his jacket. So for the rest of the interviews, he kept the stickers.

Eventually, Mark Webber joined the crew and talked about their race predictions for the season. Jack grabbed his dad’s microphone and held it up to Mark even though he had his microphone.

“Oh thank you, Jack, you’re very kind.” Mark lowered his microphone so he could speak into Jack’s. “I actually have a question for the Button twins. Who do you think is going to win todays race?”

Jack lowered the microphone so he could speak in it. “I think Max is going to win because he goes very fast.”

Then Ophelia grabbed the microphone from Jack. “No, it’s Lewis.”

“Looks like we created another rivalry.” Mark joked.

“Dad? What about you?” Ophelia raised the microphone to her dad.

“I think it’s important that everyone has fun and no matter what, I hope everyone has a safe race.” Jenson explained to his kids.

“So Red Bull?” The kids wondered.