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pucksandpower · 4 months ago

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Fixer Upper

Max Verstappen x interior designer!Reader

Summary: Max Verstappen is the most frustrating client you’ve ever dealt with … but maybe he can make it up to you

“How about some pops of color in here?” You suggest brightly, gesturing around the stark white walls of Max Verstappen’s new Monaco penthouse.

The Dutch driver sniffs, glancing up briefly from his phone. “No thanks. I like it plain.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he does. You’ve been working with Max for two weeks now trying to decorate his new home, but so far he’s shot down every single idea you’ve proposed.

As an interior designer based in a principality known for catering to the rich and famous, you’re used to difficult clients, but Max may just take the cake. Still, you’re determined to give him the space he desires … if you can only figure out what that is.

“Alright, plain it is,” you say evenly. “But we should at least add some artwork, don’t you think? Something modern and sleek could look fantastic against these walls.”

Max doesn’t even glance up this time. “No art. Don’t like it.”

You inhale slowly. “Okay, no problem. We’ll keep it artless.” Time to switch gears. You gesture to the expansive bank of windows along one wall. “These floor-to-ceiling windows are incredible, some of the best views in Monaco. We could do some fabulous seating here to take advantage of the natural light. Maybe a chaise lounge or two angled toward the harbor ...”

“Don’t need seating.” Max is focused on his phone, thumbs flying. “I’ll just put my sim rig there.”

Your eye twitches involuntarily. His racing simulator setup — in front of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the most coveted views in the principality? Absolutely not.

“Well,” you begin delicately, “Perhaps we could find another place for your sim, one that doesn’t obstruct the views quite so much. I’m sure we could-”

“No, I want it there,” Max interrupts flatly. “I like seeing the water while I drive.” His attention doesn’t waver from the screen in his hands.

You close your eyes briefly and take a calming breath. Alright. No color, no art, and a sim smack in front of priceless views. So much for design aesthetics. Time for a new tactic.

“You must do a lot of cooking,” you say brightly, turning towards the kitchen. “This is an amazing culinary space. We could do some open shelving with sleek finishes to highlight the quartz countertops.”

Silence. Max just gives a non-committal grunt, still absorbed by his phone.

You soldier on. “Or maybe some nice warm wood cabinetry for contrast? I have some fantastic artisan contacts who could do handmade custom designs.”

“Don’t cook much,” he mutters.

Your smile tightens. “Not to worry, we can keep the kitchen minimal too.” Is there anything, anything at all, you can propose that he won’t immediately shoot down? You’re starting to doubt it.

Switching to the living area, you smooth down your dress and try again. “For the living room, I was thinking we could do built-in bookcases along the back wall there, and maybe expose some of the original brick behind for an industrial chic look ...”

Max glances up from his phone to level an unimpressed look at you. “But we’re inside. Brick would make no sense.”

You close your eyes briefly. Of course not. “My mistake, you’re absolutely right,” you say through gritted teeth. Enough pussyfooting around. Time to be direct.

You plant yourself in front of where Max sits on the couch and place your hands on your hips. “Max, I’m going to be honest. I’m having trouble getting a sense of your style and vision for this space. You’ve rejected all my ideas so far.”

He blinks up at you blandly. “I don’t like any of your ideas. This is my place and I want to do what I want.”

You resist the urge to tear your hair out in frustration. “Of course, and I want you to have exactly what you want. But in order to do that, I need you to communicate with me. Tell me what kind of look and feel you envision for your home. Modern, traditional, minimalist? What colors and textures appeal to you?”

Max just shrugs, his attention already drifting back to his phone. “I don’t know. Just make it nice.”

Oh for god’s sake. You inhale slowly through your nose. “Perhaps you could show me some inspiration photos of interiors you like?”

“Nah, don’t feel like it.”

That’s it. You’ve had it with this infuriating man. You know you shouldn’t lose your cool with a client, but you’re at the end of your rope.

“Well, I’m afraid ‘make it nice’ doesn’t give me much to go on,” you snap sarcastically. “I can’t read your mind, Max. So unless you start providing concrete input on what you actually want, I’m resigning from this job.”

You expect anger, or at least surprise at your outburst. But Max just regards you evenly for a moment, then nods. “Okay, fair enough. The truth is ...” He pauses, looking faintly embarrassed. “I just wanted an excuse to spend more time around you.”

You blink, blindsided. “I’m sorry, what?”

A slight flush rises in Max’s cheeks. “I didn’t actually care about the decor that much. I just thought if I kept saying no to all your ideas, you’d have to stay involved with the project longer.” He gives you a sheepish smile. “Guess I took the stubborn client thing too far.”

You’re dumbfounded. And, if you’re being honest, a little charmed. “Let me get this straight — you’ve been wasting my time and driving me crazy for two weeks because you … have a crush on me?”

Max winces. “When you put it like that, I sound like an idiot.”

You have to laugh. “A bit, yeah.” But you can’t help but feel a warm flutter in your stomach too. You’ve always thought Max was cute in a boyish way. Knowing he orchestrated this whole thing just to spend time with you is, admittedly, very flattering. And more than a little endearing.

Max rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be difficult on purpose. I just ...” He trails off with a helpless little shrug.

You take pity on him. Yes, leading you on a wild goose chase of rejected designs was unprofessional. But the hesitant smile he’s giving you now tugs at your heartstrings anyway.

“Well, I appreciate you coming clean,” you say gently. “How about we start fresh? I’d love to actually get your real input now on what you want.”

His smile widens, grey eyes lighting up. “Yeah?”

You can’t help but smile back. “On one condition.”

He nods eagerly. “Name it.”

“You take me to dinner.” You arch an eyebrow. “To make up for the stress you caused me over the past two weeks.”

Max lets out a surprised bark of laughter. “Deal.” He shakes his head ruefully. “I really made a mess of this, didn’t I?”

“Little bit, yeah.” You grin to soften the reproach. “Next time just ask me out for a drink. It’s a much more straightforward approach.”

“Duly noted.” He smiles sheepishly.

You move to sit next to him on the couch. “So tell me honestly, what kind of look are you picturing for this place?”

Max considers the blank canvas of a space. “Honestly, I’m open to anything you suggest. I trust your taste — I’ve seen your work before and it’s amazing.” His eyes meet yours. “But I do definitely want my sim rig with a view. That part wasn’t a lie.”

You laugh. “We can make that work.” Your gaze travels over the strong lines of his face, the mussed brown hair, the wry curve of his smile that makes your heart beat faster.

As you begin sketching possible layout options, you make a mental note to clear your schedule for dinner soon. Very soon.

***

“Well, this is … quite a space,” you say diplomatically as the hostess leads you and Max to your table.

You’re immediately assaulted by a riot of clashing colors and patterns as your gaze darts around the trendy restaurant he’s brought you to for dinner. Your trained designer’s eye picks out aesthetic atrocities everywhere you look.

An art deco mirror topped by an incongruous ultra-modern light fixture. Fussy rococo chairs paired with sleek metal tables. And dear god, is that shag carpeting?

“Yes, Le Chat Noir is very popular right now,” Max agrees, seemingly oblivious to the decor travesties surrounding you.

You hold your tongue as the hostess seats you. The haphazard decor choices are an assault on your senses, but you don’t want to seem rude on your first date with Max.

A server appears to take your drink orders. You welcome the distraction, busying yourself with the wine list. But as soon as he departs, Max leans forward, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Alright, I know that look. Out with it — what do you really think?”

You bite your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gestures broadly around. “Of all this.”

You hesitate. “The decor is certainly … interesting.”

Max grins. “I can tell you absolutely hate it.”

You wince. Damn, he’s perceptive. And here you were trying so hard to remain poker-faced.

“Sorry,” you say with an embarrassed laugh. “I was attempting to refrain from judgment, but it appears I failed.”

“No need to apologize.” He settles back in his chair. “Please, critique away. I want to hear your professional opinion.” His eyes dance with humor. “Don’t hold back.”

Well, far be it from you to turn down an invitation like that. As your drinks arrive, you take a fortifying sip of wine before launching in.

“Alright, you asked for it.” You set the glass down firmly. “This space is an absolute disaster from a design perspective. It’s like the interior decorator was blindfolded and threw darts at a wall covered in paint swatches and fabric samples. Nothing goes together at all.”

You point above your table. “That light fixture up there? Ultrasmack modern against 19th century crown molding? Make it make sense.”

Max chuckles. “Quite the mashup.”

You lean forward, on a roll now. “And this carpet!” You gesture in horror to the shag beneath your feet. “This trend needs to retire immediately. It looks like an avocado fucked a bear.”

Max nearly chokes on his drink. “A what now?”

You wave a hand. “You know what I mean. Just tragic.”

Sitting back, you take in the rest of the garish space. “The artwork over there is just hideous. And that tufted velvet on the booths makes me want to scream. Who decided olive green was an accent color that pairs well with anything?”

You turn back to Max, on a tirade now. “Honestly, nothing works. The proportions are bad, the color palette is an atrocity, the mixture of styles is absurd. It’s like the designer threw every conceivable element at the wall to see what would stick. I could have done a better job blindfolded after downing a bottle of tequila.” You finally stop for breath, cheeks flushed.

Max has an enormous grin on his face. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help smiling too. “Sorry for the outburst. Like I said, feel free to tell me to zip it.”

“Are you kidding? I could listen to you shred this place all night.” Max shakes his head, looking delighted. “I’ve never seen you so worked up. It’s adorable.”

You blush, smoothing your hair self-consciously. “Oh hush. I just have … strong opinions when it comes to interior design choices.”

“Clearly.” Max’s eyes positively dance with affection. “I love how passionate you are. And your criticisms are spot on. This place really is horrendously designed.”

You blink in surprise. “Wait, you actually agree? You’re not just humoring me?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not. My knowledge doesn’t come remotely close to yours, but even I can tell everything in here clashes hideously.” He gestures at the table. “I mean, a wooden chair back with a metal seat? Just pick one material!”

You grin, happiness blossoming in your chest. It’s such a treat to have him validate your expert opinions instead of just patronizing them like many dates would. You launch eagerly back into listing all the ways the restaurant decor offends you, with Max chiming in occasional agreement or egging you on for more.

By the time your food arrives, you’ve dissected the lighting, furniture, textiles, and color schemes within an inch of their lives. Max watches you intently the whole time, blatantly enraptured by your critiques. Your wine glass is nearly empty from all the gesticulating.

“Well, I think that covers all the ways this interior design should be illegal,” you conclude, taking a bite of your meal. “Thanks for indulging me. I know I can get carried away analyzing spaces.”

“I could listen to you trash talk bad design forever.” Max can’t seem to rip his eyes away from yours. “I love how opinionated you are. And you look so damn sexy getting all fired up about it.”

A pleasurable shiver runs through you at his heated look. Maybe ripping this restaurant to shreds wasn’t the most conventional date conversation, but it clearly impressed Max. Nothing like a shared hatred of garish decor to bring two people together.

“Well, I’m glad one of us enjoys these tirades,” you laugh. You cock your head coyly. “Maybe I could come over sometime outside of work and critique your place again now that it’s shaping up. I’m sure I can find a few more things to complain about.”

Max’s eyes darken. “I’d like that.” He leans forward with a roguish smile. “Maybe we can get out of here and you can tell me all the ways you’d redesign the bedroom in my current apartment. You know, so we can avoid making those mistakes again while you help decorate my bedroom in the penthouse.”

You nearly choke on your wine, heat flooding your face. And lower regions. Goodness, Max’s flirty side really brings out your inner vixen.

You recover and stroke his ankle lightly with your heel under the table. “I’d be happy to provide any hands-on design consultation you require.”

Max sucks in a sharp breath, eyes blazing. The temperature between you two has risen about fifty degrees in the last few seconds. Suddenly you want nothing more than to leave this horribly designed restaurant and get him alone.

Immediately.

***

“A good mattress is crucial for proper sleep and recovery,” Max declares as you walk into the upscale furniture store together. “We need to test them thoroughly.”

You allow him to lead you to the mattress section, hiding a smile. When Max asked you to come mattress shopping with him for his new bedroom, you’d naively thought it would be a quick errand. But knowing Max, you should have guessed he’d take the task of “testing” mattresses very seriously.

An eager salesperson appears. “Welcome! Are we looking for any mattress in particular today?”

“We want to try them all,” Max announces, eyeing the rows of display beds keenly.

The salesperson falters. “Er, all of them?”

“How else will we know which is best?” Max shrugs as if this is obvious.

You squeeze his arm, charmed by his matter-of-fact logic. The salesperson forces a professional smile.

“Of course, take all the time you need.” He gestures expansively at the floor models. “I’ll be right here if you have any questions.”

“Excellent.” Max wastes no time striding over to the nearest bed. He sits, then lies back experimentally. “Hmm, decent firmness.” He pats the empty space beside him. “Come try it out.”

You curl up next to him, hiding your smile at the salesperson’s raised eyebrows. When you said you’d help Max pick out a mattress, this wasn’t what you pictured. But you have to admit, lying here with him is fun.

Max frowns. “Too much motion transfer when you move.” He sits up abruptly. “Next!”

You have to smother a laugh as you follow him to the next display. This no-nonsense methodism is peak Max. Systematic and entertainingly stubborn.

At the second bed, Max immediately starfishes spread-eagle. “Well? Get over here and test it with me. It’s the only way we’ll know.” He pats the mattress insistently.

You note the salesperson observing this display with thinly veiled disapproval. But Max just looks so irresistibly eager, you can’t help but indulge him.

You crawl onto the bed and cuddle up to him happily. “Mmm, this one’s nice. Great hugability.” You pretend to grab Max in a koala hold.

He laughs. “Agreed, good hugging potential.” Wrapping his arms around you, he shifts experimentally. “But the bounce is all wrong.” He releases you and sits up. “Next!”

And so it goes for the next hour as you enthusiastically demo mattress after mattress with Max. You try them on your backs, sides, fronts, analyzing the firmness levels and motion transfer. At one point you even test out the edge support — whatever that is — with Max insisting you sit together on the very side of the mattress frame.

“Considerable sag here,” Max murmurs against your ear, his arm firmly around your waist. You have to hide your shiver at his warm breath so close. “Could be problematic.”

The salesperson looks like he’s one demo away from throwing you both out. But Max either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He cheerfully drags you from bed to bed, ticking off pros and cons on his fingers.

“Decent lumbar support, but it sleeps too hot.”

“Great responsiveness, but poor motion isolation.”

You’re having the time of your life. Testing mattresses was benign enough, but the excuse to crawl into bed with Max over and over has you both giddy. Each demo seems to involve increasingly creative configurations of your interlocked bodies as you evaluate firmness and ergonomics.

“I’m just not sure this is a good fit,” Max eventually concludes, frowning up at you from where you straddle his hips. His hands rest casually on your thighs, as if finding yourself atop a handsome man in a public place is perfectly routine mattress research.

You smother a laugh and climb off. “Valid analysis. Though some of the testing scenarios still need more data, I’d say.” You shoot him a coy look.

Max grins. “Agreed. Further testing required.”

The salesperson pointedly avoids looking at you both. “Perhaps you’d like to narrow down your top choices? I’m sure you have plenty of notes by now.” There’s a tautness to his professionalism that suggests you’ve stretched his patience to its limit.

But Max seems oblivious. “We’re not done yet! There are still at least half a dozen models we haven’t tried.” He takes your hand, pulling you toward a plush, pillow-topped display. “Now this one looks perfect for spooning. You little spoon first this time ...”

Mattress testing with Max, you’ve learned, is a delightful mix of structured analysis and shameless flirtation. You can’t remember ever having so much fun shopping. And based on Max’s boyish smile and lingering touches, the feeling is mutual.

“Too much dip in the middle,” Max tuts later, rolling you both gently across yet another mattress surface. “Though the close contact isn’t terrible.” His low voice in your ear makes you shiver.

You grin up at him coyly. “We should do an in-depth pressure point analysis next.”

Max smirks. “Crucial data to collect.”

Eventually, however, even Max’s enthusiasm starts to wane. “I think we have sufficient consumer testing results now,” he decides, pulling you up to sit beside him on the edge of a low platform bed.

You laugh. “That poor salesperson was ready to toss us out an hour ago.”

“Hey, we were conducting necessary R&D!” Max’s grey eyes twinkle. “But I am rather tired now ...”

He lies back, resting his head in your lap. You automatically begin stroking his hair and he sighs, eyes slipping closed. You take the opportunity to admire how sweet he looks, lips slightly parted and lashes fanned on his cheeks. Testing mattresses all afternoon seems to have worn him out.

You lean down to murmur in his ear. “Ready to take this mattress research home to really compare notes?”

One grey eye peeks open. “Mmm, home analysis does sound optimal.” His voice is raspy with fatigue in a way that melts you. “Wake me when it’s time to go?”

You brush a soft kiss to his forehead. “Of course.”

He nuzzles into your lap with a contented noise. Watching his breath deepen into sleep, you feel your heart overflow. There are a thousand reasons you adore Max, but these unexpectedly tender moments might top them all.

The salesperson reappears, offering you a pained smile. “So were you able to decide on a mattress today?”

You grin, fingers still carding through Max’s hair. “You know, I think we need to sleep on it a little longer.”

***

“Well, what do you think?” Max gestures with pride around his freshly competed penthouse.

You take it all in — the sleek but cozy furniture, the warm lighting, the pops of color — and smile. “It’s perfect. You have an incredible home now.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, gazing around. “I really couldn’t have done it without you. This place was a disaster before you came along.”

You lean into him happily. It’s been months since you first met Max and began working with him on decorating his new space. It was a battle at times, but you’re immensely proud of the final result.

“I’m honored I could help bring your vision to life,” you say sincerely. Though if you’re honest, the best part of this project was getting to know Max himself. The way his smile makes your heart flutter hasn’t diminished one bit.

Max turns you to face him, his expression soft. “I didn’t just get a beautifully designed home out of this. I got you.”

Your breath catches at the open affection in his eyes. Before you can respond, he dips his head and kisses you tenderly. You melt against him, the feel of his lips erasing any coherent thought.

When he finally draws back, his eyes are darker. “You know, there’s still one part of the place we haven’t officially christened yet.” He cocks his head toward the bedroom.

You bite your lip, pulse already quickening. “Is that so? Well, we should definitely perform a final inspection to confirm everything meets our standards.”

Max grins wolfishly, pulling you toward the bedroom. “Thorough testing is required.”

You laugh as he tugs you down onto the plush king mattress you’d finally agreed on after extensive “research.” The two of you bounce slightly from the momentum, causing you both to dissolve into giggles.

“Well, motion transfer still seems acceptable,” you quip. Max chuckles and silences you with another heated kiss.

You hum approvingly as his hands begin to roam your body. “Mmm, responsiveness is excellent too ...”

Clothes are quickly shed as you reacquaint yourselves with each other’s forms. When you’re finally skin-to-skin, Max sighs in satisfaction.

“I’ve been waiting months to get you in this bed.” His voice is low and gravelly in a way that makes you shiver.

“It was the longest mattress testing phase ever,” you breathe as his lips kiss down your neck.

Max laughs against your shoulder. “Worth it though, right?”

In answer, you flip him onto his back, straddling his hips. “Absolutely.”

You take your time exploring each other, hands and mouths worshiping every inch. Until late afternoon sun filters through the curtains, bathing the room in an almost ethereal glow.

When Max finally sinks into you, you moan softly at the exquisite fullness. “Oh yes, this mattress has great ergonomics,” you sigh dreamily.

Max huffs a laugh, his chest vibrating against yours. “I’ll be sure to mention that in my product review.”

You grin and shift your hips experimentally, making him groan. “The responsiveness really is top-notch.”

“We should still test a few more positions though,” Max murmurs. “Just to be thorough.”

You happily comply, indulging in acrobatic mattress testing that leaves you both blissfully satisfied and out of breath. As you lay tangled together afterwards, endorphins still flooding your systems, Max presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Well, I’d say the new bed passes inspection with flying colors,” he declares with sleepy satisfaction.

You laugh and stroke his hair. “Agreed. You chose an excellent mattress.” You snuggle closer. “Though the company in it is what I really enjoy.”

Max tightens his arms around you. “Think you can put up with me and my high-maintenance decor demands a while longer?” His voice holds a vulnerable note beneath the teasing.

Your heart swells and you cup his face. “Max Verstappen, I’ll critique mattresses and furniture with you any day. As long as at the end of it, I get to fall asleep next to you.”

His smile outshines the lowering sun. “Deal.”

***

“You know what I love most about how our place looks now?” Max murmurs, his arms wrapped around you on the couch.

You tear your eyes from the awful reality show you’re watching to glance up at him. “Hmm?”

His gaze sweeps over the living room, a small smile on his lips. “All the little touches that are just so you.”

You follow his look around the penthouse that over the past year has transformed from Max’s bachelor pad to your shared home. It’s still sleek and modern overall, but with warm accents reflecting both your styles.

And yes, you realize, your personal influence shows in the decor now that you live here full time. The mugs hung on hooks in the kitchen, the plush blankets tossed artfully on the chairs, the bowls of sea glass collected from beach walks that adorn the tables.

Your heart swells looking at the traces of yourself woven into Max’s space. “It does feel more like home now, doesn’t it?”

Max nods, dropping a kiss to your hair. “It’s perfect. I love coming back after a race and being surrounded by reminders of you.”

You snuggle deeper into his embrace, incredibly touched. “Well, I promise to keep leaving my clutter around to make you feel at home.”

He chuckles. “Please do. It’s my favorite kind of clutter.”

Smiling softly, you think back to when you first started dating Max after working on his penthouse makeover. Who could have guessed that would lead to sharing this life together?

Your gaze lands on a shelf displaying photos of the two of you, and your throat grows tight. There’s you and Max laughing on vacation, kissing right after he won his fourth world championship, curled up with hot chocolate on a ski trip. So many beautiful memories.

“It’s hard to remember what this place even looked like before,” you murmur. And not just the decor — it’s hard to recall your life before Max.

He rubs your shoulder idly, eyes faraway. “I know what you mean. It’s like you’ve always been here.” His voice holds a note of wonder.

You lift your head to meet his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Max’s eyes shine. He bends to kiss you, soft and heartfelt. Your lips curve against his.

When you reluctantly draw back, the television screen catches your eye. You cringe at the fake drama unfolding.

“Ugh, this show is terrible,” you groan. “Can we watch something else?”

Max grins and grabs the remote, flipping through channels. He eventually lands on a home renovation program you both enjoy analyzing and critiquing together. Some things never change.

You settle in eagerly as the show starts, scrutinizing the design choices. Max wraps an arm around you, idly playing with your hair as you watch.

Despite the show’s flaws, being curled up with Max like this fills you with utter contentment. You can’t imagine anything better than coming home to his smile and laugh each day.

During commercials, you fetch snacks from the kitchen, navigating the space with ease. Max trails behind to steal bites, ever drawn to food.

You swat his hand away from the chocolate you’re preparing and laugh. “Get your paws off, those are for sharing!”

Max just tugs you close and kisses the protest from your lips. You happily let him devour the sweetness from your mouth instead, the chocolate forgotten.

Finally you collapse back on the couch together, munching and critiquing the show’s poor tile work. Max throws popcorn for you to catch, his aim as impressive as his racing lines.

Your eyes droop as the evening wears on. The cozy penthouse, tasty snacks, and Max’s warmth — it’s the perfect recipe for relaxation.

When your head nods against Max’s shoulder for the third time, he chuckles and clicks the tv off. “Alright sleepyhead, time for bed.”

You make a half-hearted noise of protest but let him pull you up. Max keeps an arm securely around you as he leads the way to the bedroom, knowing you’re prone to stumbling when tired. It makes you feel so cared for.

He even helps you change into your nightgown, his hands impossibly gentle. As you finally crawl under the blankets, you let out a massive yawn.

“Night Maxie,” you mumble, already mostly asleep. He gathers you close and presses a kiss to your hair.

“Sweet dreams, liefje.” His voice is impossibly soft. You float away cradled in his warmth and the knowledge you’re home.

The next morning, you wake slowly to sunlight streaming in the windows and the smell of coffee. Stretching languorously, you take a moment just to soak it in.

Muffled sounds drift in from the kitchen signaling Max is already up and at ‘em. You smile sleepily. The man has the energy of a hyper puppy.

Before you can muster the will to leave bed, Max appears holding two mugs. “Morning schatje,” he greets with a smile. “Thought you might need some caffeine.”

You beam and make grabby hands until he passes you a mug. The rich aroma instantly perks you up.

Max slides in next to you, sipping his own coffee. His hair is adorably mussed and you gently smooth it down before cupping his face and bringing him in for a long, thorough good morning kiss.

When you finally separate, Max looks pleasingly dazed. “Well, that’s certainly one way to wake up.”

You grin cheekily and go back to your coffee. Max wraps an arm around you and you lean into his solid warmth, trading occasional lazy kisses between sips.

Sun streams over your entwined forms as you bask in contented silence. Eventually you stretch and make your way to the bathroom to start the day, dropping a kiss to Max’s hair as you pass.

You smile seeing your hairbrush by the sink, pink toothbrush next to Max’s blue one. Such small signs of your merged lives, but they mean the world.

Refreshed, you return to Max sprawled on the bed with his phone. He immediately opens his arms in clear demand for more cuddles. Laughing, you collapse into them happily.

Nuzzling into his chest, you sigh. “I know I was practically unconscious last night, but just wanted to say again how special it is having pieces of us both around the place now.”

Max’s arms tighten around you. “You being here makes it a home, not just an apartment.” His voice catches slightly. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

You lift your head to meet his gaze, your own suddenly misty. No words can encapsulate what it means to build a life and home with this incredible man.

So you tell him silently instead, with a kiss overflowing with love and promise: I’ll stay by your side as long as I’m welcome.

Judging by Max’s arm anchoring you fiercely to him, that will be a good long while. You melt into his embrace, spirits soaring.

No fancy penthouse or perfect decor could compare to what you’ve found with Max — a home rooted in love, laughter, and devotion.

One look at his tender smile and you know he feels it too. This is everything.

So you’ll happily leave your mugs around the sink and blankets on the chairs, weaving threads of yourself into his space. With each passing day, it matters less whose belongings lie where.

Because home isn’t things — it’s the man gazing at you like you’re his whole world. And you know as long as you’re together, any place will feel just right.

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yet-another-heathen · 11 days ago

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Bonus Adrsiae and Hidhialial <3

YURRRRRRR SPIDERVERSE PICREW OUT NEOWWWWWWWWWWWWW

PLEASE TRY IT AND SHOW ME CUZ I WANNA SEE YOUR SPIDERSONAS!!

#The Jackal of An-Nadr #*smacks Hid's shoulder* this bad boy can fit so much compassion in him #meanwhile Ad is watching one of the crewmembers up in the rigging doing something they're not supposed to #and counting down the moments until something goes wrong

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hopelesswrites · 7 days ago

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Music Boyfriend part 1

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie is an anonymous frontman of Corroded Coffin and meets his long-time pen-crush while on the run from the law.

Notes: This is HEAVILY inspired by movie Dinner in America, I was obsessed with the dynamic and felt it fit Eddie and Reader so well. general plot similarities but not a complete retelling of the movie.

Eddies POV

Sweat dripped down the nape of Eddie Munsons neck, chest raising and falling at a rapid rate, his hooded reflection an image of fierce rage as he attempted to calm down his heart and mind after the show. It was the biggest crowd they had played for. At least 100 sweaty bodies mashed together screaming his lyrics. Eddie was in a euphoric state the whole set, Corroded Coffin was finally making it in the scene, people were actually taking them seriously.

“Great show tonight dude” Gareth the bands drummer spoke as he walked past smacking his palm against the skin of Eddies exposed back.

“Owners talking about getting us back next weekend”

Eddies heartbeat was still pounding in his ears when he roughly ripped off the black ski mask from his head, damp curls sprawling out from their confinement.

Shouting could be heard from outside before the door to the small green room slammed open. “They’re looking for you man” Jeff ran in. Eddie could hear the police outside the door, their voices getting closer.

“Quick get out of here and lay low, whatever you did this time they’ll forget in a few days”

Eddie cursed before haphazardly putting his mask back on and shrugging his leather jacket on his shoulders before entering the cold night air.

The cops were looking for Eddie, and with the mask on he was no longer Eddie, he was Vandal, Van for short, but he made a run for it just to be safe.

Eddie knew back at the bar his band will be getting interrogated right now. But their story was always the same “we don’t know no Eddie; the lead singers name is Van”

He liked to keep his real identity a secret on stage. It was easier due to all the trouble he gets up to during the day and he just preferred the anonymity of it, he could be anyone once that hood came on.

Down the street now Eddie slowed to a brisk walk, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long drag once he finally got a breath. He smiled at the irony of that, thinking of ways he could incorporate that into a lyric, connect it back to the bands rebellious non conformity message.

After a few more minutes of walking Eddie made it to the nearest service station, pulling his hood off and stuffing it in his jacket pocket before entering. He beelined straight to the confectionary section ripping off a chocolate bar and stomping down the aisle for a packet of chips. At the counter he watched the bored clerk perk up at the sight of him, adjusting her shirt to show off more cleavage.

“What can I do for you” she asked in the most flirtatious voice she could

“Uh, cheapest bottle of bourbon please” Eddie answered giving the girl a wink before she turned around to grab the bottle.

“What time do you get off?” Eddie leaned his elbows on the counter so his eyes were in line with her chest, noticing the way she pushed her chest out more and stood with her hand on her hip.

“I’m here all night, but it’s pretty dead, I can lock the door” She replied seductively. Eddie considered his options. Try to go home to his uncle who likely already received a visit from the cops, or hole up here with a pretty lady until the authorities cool off for the night.

The answer was obvious.

Eddie was rudely awoken by the zip of his leather jacket hitting him in his eye socket. Groaning he stretched in the plastic chair he had curled up on, flinching when he pinched a nerve in his back. Uncle Waynes couch would have been a better option.

“You have to leave now my supervisors going to be here” A voice spoke above him.

Eddie squinted open one eye to see a dishevelled version of the girl he met last night. On the floor to his right was an empty bottle of that bourbon and a plastic cup with the remnants of his last few cigarettes.

“Get me another packet of Marlboros would ya” Eddie resumed his stretch, rubbing the eye that he could already feel a small bruise forming around.

He heard movement and a small box hit him in the chest.

“Out! Now!”

Eddie scrambled to his feet shrugging on his jacket realising he still had no shirt underneath.

“Can I pinch a shirt?” Eddie asked the girl frantically cleaning up the back room they spent the night in.

“They’re next to the drink fridge, hurry” she answered, uninterested in Eddies company by now.

Eddie walked out the back entrance of the service station clad in a shirt saying, “Warning, Choking Hazard” with an arrow pointed downward, he chuckled to himself, pleased with his selection before lighting up another cigarette and making his way in town. He was starving and could use a greasy cheeseburger to soak up some of the alcohol still swirling through his system.

If he was lucky, the police had forgotten about Mr Wheelers stolen car and Mrs Norris’s once perfectly manicured lawn (he didn’t see the pot hole, he was trying not to pop Mr Wheelers tyre obviously).

Down the main strip of Hawkins Eddie kept his head down trying not to draw any attention. He was on 80% of these peoples hit list, been done dirty by Eddie one way or another. This was why he was so eager to blow up with the band and get the hell out of this shit hole. He approached the record store, interested in this week’s new releases. Him and the band had been trying to get Corroded Coffins album in store for months. Keith the asshole kept saying they weren’t selling amateur garage band shit, so Eddie deeply despised the place.

Like a magnet Eddie found his way to the metal section, browsing the albums he already knew and loved when one cover up the back caught his eye. It was Corroded Coffin, he had hand drawn that cover himself, he recognised the charcoal smudge scanned onto the left edge of every album they printed. It cost him a fortune, only two existed in vinyl format and 50 cassettes, all the copies they hand out at shows now are hand scratched mixtape style covers. This was one of those 50 official cassettes.

“Its limited edition, hence, the markup” A soft voice spoke from behind Eddie. He turned his head and scowled at the girl stood behind him. She was twiddling with a sticker that read ‘SALE’ a crooked name badge on a too big shirt with ‘Hawkins Records’ printed on the opposite side.

“Yeah, I know its limited edition, its one of 50” Eddie spat back protectively. Who was this girl telling him about his own band?

“Its one of my own copies. I bought two because I’m such a fan and wanted a backup but Keiths been pushing back their request to sell in the store, so I sacrificed my spare to put out, they deserve to be in stores, have you heard of them?” The girl rambled, seemingly forgetting her own surroundings once she had started talking.

“Of course, I’ve heard of them” Eddie grumbled putting the album back. “Better question is how have you heard of them”

Eddie turned fully now to look at the girl. She was nothing like the people who come to his shows, she radiated too much of a cautious, anxious energy. She looked uncomfortable in her own skin and ashamed of her own actions, but Eddie was no psychoanalyst, he couldn’t make those kinds of conclusions. She looked up at him but a little to the left, never making eye contact and she had a twitch in her leg that looked a little like Gareth tapping a kick drum.

“My friend Jack showed me their album, he works here Monday to Thursday, he’s really into metal”

Eddie looked her up and down as he tried to work this girl out, she was fucking weird, and that was saying something coming from him, the towns resident freak.

“Did you know the bands lead vocalist Vandal wears a mask?” Her leg began to twitch more as she continued to talk about Eddie, to Eddie.

“He stays anonymous when he performs, I find it so hot no one knows who he really is” Her twitching turned into a small bounce and Eddie stepped back away from her.

“Oi! Nutcase, stop harassing the customers, get back to work!” Keith yelled from the front of the store, shutting down this girl’s excitement. This didn’t sit well with Eddie at all.

“Does he always talk to you like that?”

The girl looked down at her shoes nervously. “Yeah, he does”

Eddie grunted, “He’s an asshole, you know that?” The girl only nodded back.

Her submission to the asshole up the front only enraged Eddie more. “Hey! Keith!” He shouted across the store, stomping up to the counter.

“Find someone else to pick on” He growled before planting one hard punch to Keith’s face, definitely breaking his nose. Other customers in the store looked up, curious about the commotion.

“And treat your staff better”

Keith groaned in pain, “She’s fucking useless man, what the fuck”

Something in Eddie felt protective over this girl, and he wasn’t sure why. She was a fan obviously and a part of him felt indebted to her for her devotion to his art, whether she knew it or not.

“Come on” Eddie grunted, pulling the strange girl by her arm and out of the store. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before Keith calls the police and they’re hot on his trail again.

“Where are we going?” She asked still being dragged by Eddie.

“To your place”

Surprisingly it didn’t take any convincing at all for this girl to lead Eddie in the direction of her house, taking backstreets to avoid attention. Eddie added this to her list of traits that made her a freak, who the hell takes a guy like Eddie home after that?

“Hey, stop” Eddie interrupts once they were far enough away, he thought they’d be safe from authorities. “Fuck this shit” he said ripping off the name badge from her uniform. “You don’t need that shithole” The girl looked at Eddie now, analysing him.

“Am I fired?”

The question baffled him, how does he answer that. Did he just get her fired?

“Like I said, you don’t need that shithole” He punctuated, motioning for her to continue walking, he was still fucking starving.

She led him up to a plain white house, perfect coverup assuming Keith doesn’t talk. Inside, it was as plain at the exterior, perfect picture of boring suburbia. Eddie couldn’t help comparing it to somewhere they’d send him to torture him.

“My Dads on a trip and my Moms working a late shift, no one will find you here” The girl said, practically reading Eddies mind.

She walked him through and into the kitchen offering him a glass of water, which Eddie rejected as he pushed her out of the way to scan her fridge.

“Where’s the beer?”

The strange girl shrugged, “Dad doesn’t like beer”

“Is there any booze in this house?” He asked, already getting irritated.

“Well, dads got a special bottle of whiskey he saves for Christmas each year in his study, he says its vintage”

“Perfect” Eddie answered, “Go get it”

He continued to rummage through the fridge, pulling out bread, turkey meat and cranberry jelly. The girl stayed put, not answering Eddie. “Is there a problem?”

“Its Dads special Whiskey, he only drinks it on Christmas”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Whatever”

Once his sandwich was made Eddie began to look around the house, looking for anything valuable he could snatch on his way out tomorrow. “What’s your deal then?” Eddie called from a gallery wall near the front entrance, viewing a series of boring family photos, this family didn’t even go on vacation, every photo looked like a Macys photoshoot.

“What do you mean?” She asked sneaking up next to Eddie, causing him to jump and hold his chest.

“Fucking creepy, don’t do that” He hissed before composing himself, “I mean, what do you do besides work at the record store, did you go to college? Actually, how old are you?”

“I’m 20, I did one year at college, but mom thought I’d be better working and getting some life experience and going back later when I gained a bit more confidence”

Eddie noted the way she spoke to the wall rather than to Eddie, so he turned to face her directly, encouraging her to do the same.

“You think you’re getting life experience getting yelled at by Keith?”

“Not really”

Eddie crossed his arms, “what do you want to be doing then?”

The girl took a moment to consider her next words, biting her lip in thought. “Follow me” She led him up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom with the most contradicting aesthetic Eddie had ever seen. Her bed was cutely decorated with girly blankets, a pile of stuffed animals in the corner. Cascading over the bed was a frilly canopy covered in fairly lights. To the opposite wall was a white traditional vanity with a pretty jewellery box decorated with glittery stickers, and various lip glosses and juvenile makeup products. The walls however were covered in aggressive Metal band posters. Eddie spotted a concert advertisement poster they had put up around town for one of Corroded Coffins gigs. She had a stack of cassettes beside her bed that Eddie imagined didn’t contain a single Madonna album.

“I want to start a band” She spoke quickly, rummaging through a cardboard box of letters, papers and various craft equipment.

“I don’t have anyone to join the band, but I’ve been writing songs” She pulls out one envelope generously decorated in stickers. “I sometimes send the love songs to Vandal from Corroded Coffin” she explains turning around to show Eddie the letter she had, addressed to his uncles PO box.

Eddies stomach dropped, face void of any blood as he stared at the familiar envelope connecting the dots between this girl and the girl he’d been fantasizing about for over a year now.

This was fucking bad.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfic

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 8 months ago

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#399

“Oh man, Fuck!... Oh sorry you had to hear that call. Didn’t mean to interrupt you enjoying your brew. It’s just that my girlfriend makes me so fucking pissed off…. Get this, she knows I work 14 days straight busting my ass on that drilling rig. I am about to head home for four days of rest. That’s a 7-hour drive, each way. So she tells me that her sister and mother are in town staying with us. My days of relaxing are shot to shit. And worse yet there’s no way I’m getting her pussy. I probably won’t even get head. Ain’t that shit?...

“Oh sorry. I forget that I’m not with a dozen or so other roughnecks out in the field. All they talk about is pussy. Most of them don’t have a girlfriend, let alone a wife. Hearing them go on and on about fucking and getting a blow job, I forget that other people might talk about something else.

“My god, I just wanted to get home and kick back with a beer and get some head. You know the kind of blowjob that goes on for an hour and it relaxes your entire body. That doesn’t even include blowing your wad. You know what I’m talking about?

“Oh there I go again. Sorry if I’m telling too much.... I do that when I start drinking. Do you care if I talk about getting blown?... Good. Thought so. What man doesn’t want head at the end of weeks of working damned hard?

“…Here’s to blowjobs! Cheers!

“Hey Frank! Get my friend here another beer…. Nah! Put your money away. I got this.

“So your car broke down?... We are one of two taverns for twenty miles. The other is by the interstate one mile away. At this time of day it’s quite deserted. We typically only get locals in here. That is, unless you are having work done at Mike Larson’s garage. There’s not that much out here, just the garage, Frank’s tavern, the lodge, and the oilfield’s main office over there across the creek. Was I right? Is it your car?

“…That was not a happy nod. So, you’re here for tonight… Oh wait, the garage is closed for the weekend. You are here until Monday? …Again, that nod tells me everything. Well to make matters worse, there are no available women for at least 50 or 60 miles. This is what this hellhole has to offer.

“I don’t know about you but it looks like it’s going to be an evening of pounding the pud. And when I get done, I’ll use my other hand to make it feel like I’m getting a handjob from someone else.

“Goddamn my girlfriend fucked this all up. I only had this weekend off, before I have to report back here to start filling in for a bud on Wednesday. She thought that I would want to spend time with her fucking family. Sometimes I wonder why I’m still with her.

“You have a wife or girlfriend?...

“…Huh! Well, sometimes I wish I was like you, single. But sometimes I really need to get my balls drained. She gives great head though. She’s the only girlfriend I had who can take my head in her throat. I have a big schlong, and every woman I dated complained about its size. It takes her a long time to throat me. Most of the time I get frustrated, and I wind up grabbing her head and fucking her mouth. Eventually it ends in her throat. She has never taken me down to the root.

“But I really have to be buzzed to get into skull fucking the bitch. The part she really hates is me dick slapping her. As I said, I have a gigantic dick. Smacking her upside her head with my cock usually throws her off balance. So does a face slap with my hand.

“When I get in the zone, I am all kinds of aggressive. I am only after one thing, to bust my nut. If that means roughing up the bitch, then she’s going to get roughed up. If I’m drunk enough, I’ll not only fuck her cunt, but she’ll take me in her ass.

“Right now, if she were here, I would be fucking her in every position in every hole. I wouldn’t care if she was enjoying it. I’m so fucking horny. I would use any woman right now. I can’t have a weekend of jerking off. Hell, if there was a faggot, I would use him the same way.

“And it’s a good thing that I have a faggot sitting not ten feet away from me, paying attention to every word I say, licking his lips every time I mention blowjobs, and responding with awkward silence when I asked if he had a bitch back home. No straight man acts this way.

“I would ask you if you are a cock sucking faggot, but we both know the answer. Don’t we? So this is what is going to happen. I’m going to walk over there, to the men’s toilet. You want my fat hog in your faggot throat, you follow me in. Don’t say a word. Get on your faggot knees and open your faggot mouth.

“I’ll give you until I drain my piss. If you don’t come in at that time, then you better be out of here and hide in your room at the lodge.

“I really got to piss, so you don’t have much time….

“…Well fuck. I would have thought you would have taken some time to think about it. But OK.

“I really have to piss. While I do that get in the stall and on your knees. Be ready for me. I swear, the beers just pour right through me. Oh, this feels good—

“What the fuck? I’m not done pissing…. Oh? So, you are one of those kinds of faggots. Nasty piss drinking faggot! Oh fuck, your mouth feels good. You are definitely getting a reaction out of my hog. That’s it for my piss for now.

“Faggot, see how big it is? You think you can take it?

“Jesus fuck! Right to the root with no problem! Holy shit. You faggots know what you are doing. Oh man. This is… fuck! Oh my god!

“Bob up and down. Go head-to-root-to-head-to-root. Fuck! This is the blowjob I have been looking for all my life. Lucky me I found me a faggot with car problems.

“Pull off. I said, ‘Pull off!’ Look up at me. Hold still….

“…What? Nothing? I just gave you one of the hardest bitch slaps I have ever given and you just take it…. Wait, what did you just say? Did you just thank me… for bitch slapping you?

“Get up. Get your faggot-ty ass up. Let’s go. Move!

“We are going to my room at the lodge. You are going to spend your night with me.

“Pay Frank your tab and leave a good tip. Meet me outside… A fifty? You know what a good tip is, that or you didn’t care to wait for him to give you change.

“OK faggot. I have never used a fag before. But damn, that one minute in the toilet told me I have been missing out.

“Over here. I’m the last room. The lodge is free for us roughnecks. The company pays for our housing. My room is at the end. It’s a glorified motel room. I have tons of beer. You won’t get any, at least not without it going through me first. Never did that before, but fuck I liked it.

“I plan on being here for four days. You are going to spend your time with me and my cock down your throat. You probably take it up your ass. I will definitely try that out.

“Now listen up. I have no interest in you or your dick. I ain’t sucking you or getting fucked by you. You try anything like that, and I will beat the shit out of you. Understand me?... Understand me faggot?

“And keep up the ‘Yes Sir!’ I like the sound of that. Here we are. Faggot this is all new for me. But I will tell you this, I am liking what has been done so far. I’m so ready to do this. My cock has not lost it’s hard on. I may never go back. Faggot get inside and strip!”

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brandwhorestarscream · 15 days ago

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"Wait-" Optimus blinks, then squints and takes a step closer. "Wait, w-wait. Are you crying?!"

Megatron visibly recoils for a moment, flinching and taken aback. "Am I-?!" He sputters, and his vents make a wet, wheezy noise. "Of course I'm crying! I just watched you die, you idiot! Why wouldn't I be crying?!"

"I-" Optimus is silent for a momsnt, expression softening. His face is open, and shocked, and pained. "I... I'm, sorry," he swallows. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"Funny," his best friend snaps. "Cuz you make me cry a lot."

Optimus looks sparkbroken. "I do?"

"YES! All the time! But you never notice, because you're always too busy doing what you want and chasing your next adrenaline shot! You never think about me or anyone else! You made me cry that time you broke my arm jumping off a building cuz you thought we could just magically fly if we believed it hard enough, you made me cry that time you tried to rig that mining drill for double power and crushed three of my fingers! I had to wait two and a half decacyles for a replacement, you remember that?! You made me cry that time you tricked me into eating that energon you 'distilled' yourself and I got fuel poisoning! I was sick for six days straight! And what about that time you stole those extra rations and lied to me saying it was a reward and we both got tossed in containment! You made me cry after you took me up to that spot to watch the race and tricked me, and you made me cry when that monster carved me up like a bulb-lantern and you told me I WAS LIKE HIM!" Megatron shoves him back, and hiccups sharply. "You make me cry a lot, Pax, you just never NOTICE! And I'm tired of it!"

Silence rings defeaning around them, and Optimus is speechless. The whole world is watching.

"...Dee," he whispers, servos coming up to reach out to him. "I- I'm sorry."

Megatron half-heartedly smacks his hand away, but the strength behind it is draining. He's said his piece, and now with it off his chassis, the animosity and the resentment is already starting to bleed away. "No you're not."

"No," Optimus catches his servo. Turns it over to clasp between both of his palms, lifting his helm to peer directly into tear-soaked red optics. "I am. I... never wanted to hurt you, Dee. Never. I- I never wanna hurt you."

The silver mech sobs. He looks downtrodden, and miserable, and afraid. When he finally speaks, he sounds small and fragile, and almost like himself again. "...I don't wanna hurt you, either."

...

What would happen in Optimus noticed Megatron's tears in the last scene? Something like this, I hope

#transformers one #Optimus #Megatron

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loucifersbitch · 24 days ago

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tagged by @bidisasterevankinard (and others during the last few days <3) have some tevantober week 2 that i still haven't finished (oops) [aka the freak blizzard/injured tommy fic]

On his very last call of the shift, Tommy was on ground crew for an extrication when he had a small run in with a patch of ice. He could’ve caught himself if Ortega hadn’t hit the same patch of ice and knocked them both on their asses - or in Tommy’s case, on his side, his head smacking the ice and a sharp shard leaving a cut over his eyebrow. Luckily he could get away with some butterfly bandages and wouldn’t have to worry about stitches on his face, but the skin around the cut was still tender. When the paramedics released him, he hopped on the rig back to Harbor so he could go the fuck home, take some Tylenol, and sleep for the next three days. Yanking his phone out of his pocket inside his turnouts put a damper on those plans. 19 missed calls 6 new voicemails 27 unread messages “Goddammit,” Tommy said under his breath, then louder, “who told Evan?” Three hands shot up, not one of them looking the least bit sorry. “Technically I called Chimney,” Donato said. “I called Wilson actually,” Hansen added. Tommy looked at Ortega and raised an accusing eyebrow. “Okay, fine, yeah, I called Buckley. Sue me. I felt bad for getting you covered in blood, and I thought you might need your boy to take care of you.” With a defeated groan, Tommy dropped his head back against the seat, eyes closed. “Fantastic.” Evan picked up on the second ring.

tags

@carrythatwayt @monsterrae1 @bi-buckrights @xofemeraldstars @sherlocking-out-loud

@buckleylonglegs @sunglassesmish @powersuitup @theotherbuckley @lavenderleahy

@buckhastwohands @buckevantommy @buckera @evansboyfriend @bucksbignaturals

@aringofsalt @firewasabeast @firehose118 @ohithankyou @beefcakekinard

@smallandalmosthonest @hyperfocusthusly

#911 abc #the ally and the beast #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy wip #tevan #kinley #kinkley #firepilot #jules writes

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uluvjay · 1 year ago

Note

Luke hughes birthday smut 😍😍!!

Luke Hughes x fem reader!

Warnings?; SMUT, fingering, hints to oral(M receiving), unprotected sex(use protection!), kissing, hair pulling, light choking, cursing, hints of shower sex, dirty talk.

I know this is so late I’m sorry, also lightly proofread

He could feel the dampness your lips left as they made their way down his body. Starting from his jaw and all the way down to the waistband of his pajama pants.

“Baby..” he grumbled finally opening his eyes to find your body situated over his legs.

“Morning birthday boy” you smiled, making your way back up to his face to give him a kiss.

He pulled you down against him with a whine when you attempted to detach your lips. His hands settling at your waist, under the t-shirt of his you had been wearing.

“Luke no..” you tried to stop him as he flipped the two of you over so you were laid under him.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned

“Wanted to give you birthday head” you smiled shyly with a small giggle escaping.

“I could tell, great way to wake up by the way. But I can’t wait baby, wanna he inside you” he teased as he began placing kisses on your neck.

“It is my birthday after all..” he whispered into your ear before attaching his teeth to your sweet spot behind your ear, causing a sweet whimper to escape from your lips.

“Lukey” you whined as his hands teased along the waistband of your panties.

He didn’t reply just gave you a smirk, leaned back on his knees with your legs thrown over his thighs. He reached down and ran a finger over the wet patch that had been created on your panties.

“So wet” he mumbled to himself, eyes locked on one of his favorite sights. Luke would never get over the way you got wet for him, whether it was from the way he was touching you, kissing you, or the way he’d simply looked at you, he’d never get tired of looking at seeing how your body responded to him.

Finally pulling your panties off a low groan came from the boy, your pussy looked so pretty drenched and waiting for him, all for him.

“Best birthday gift ever” he spoke softly as he ran a finger through your folds, a deep growl emerging from his throat at the way your wetness covered his finger.

“Baby don’t tease” you whined as you began to squirm.

But Luke was quick to place a slap on your thigh to let you know to behave. “It’s my birthday and yet you think you can call the shots” he laughed meanly.

“I’m sorry, just wanna feel you” you spoke in yet again a whiny tone and Luke was just about over hearing it.

“Gonna give you something to actually whine about” he spat before sinking two fingers inside your warm cunt. He began at a fast pace, fingers moving in a come-here motion as he watched the way your head dipped back and you arched your body.

“Luke!” You gasped at the way his fingers expertly moved inside you, not missing a beat as they reached the spongy spot inside you that your legs attempting to close around his wrist.

“Keep your legs open” he grumbled as he laid another smack against them.

“Feels so good Lu” you cried, feeling your favorite sensation begin to form in your stomach, you chest was tightening as your breathing was becoming labored as you felt your high approaching.

“Yeah I bet it does baby, I can feel the way your clenching my fingers. Gonna come soon huh?” He taunted as he added pressure to your clit with his thumb.

“Yes fuck! Almost there” he watched in awe as your body withered below his, the way your hands clenched the sheets, and how your toes curled from the pleasure.

You were so close, right on the edge and all he had to do was pump his finger one more ti-��no, no,no, Luke! I was so close why’d you stop”

“Because your coming on my cock today, not my fingers baby” he smirked as he stood up to pull off his pants and boxers revealing his cock.

Your mouth watered at the way it hit against his lower stomach and the way the small bead of precum rolled down from his tip.

“Don’t worry I’ll make sure you get to have a taste at some point today, but right now I’m fucking you” he smirked as he climbed back onto the bed.

Gasps escaped both of you as he ran his tip through your folds, covering his swollen head in your wetness.

“Ready?” He asked and with your nod of conformation he placed himself at your entrance and slowly pushed in.

“Fuck” you cursed as he ever so slowly stretched you out, it didn’t matter how many times you’d taken Luke it always felt like the first time when he slid in.

“God baby your so tight” he groaned as he placed his arms on either side of your head to lean over your body.

“You can move now” you whimpered, you hands took place gripping the sheets at first but the second he had began to pick up pace they were quickly clutching his shoulders.

“Fuck” he moaned as he fucked into you, the way you hugged him was one of his favorite feelings.

He watched as your eyes closed and mouth dropped open in a silent scream, he knew he’d reached your g-spot the second you reached at hand down to attempt to push him away.

He slapped said hand out of his way and reached one of his own to circle the base of your throat, applying just enough pressure to have a whine escape you.

“Feels good huh baby?” He taunted you as he kissed and nipped the areas of your neck that he could reach.

“So good Lukey” you cried; nails raking down his back, no doubt leaving angry red scratches that would burn in the shower later.

“M’ getting close” you spoke, eye’s finally opening to meet his.

“Yeah? Gonna come for me?” He questioned, moving your legs so he could fuck you at a deeper angle while one of his hands reached down to play with your clit.

You wanted to reply, you really did but you couldn’t talk over the pleasure. The way his cock hit every spot so perfectly, the way you could feel every ridge so firmly against your walls had your head hazy.

“C’mon baby, come for me” he groaned as he felt his own high approaching.

You cried out loudly as you felt the buildup in your stomach finally snap, your legs were shaking and your hands gripped his curls so tight you were scared you were hurting him.

But you weren’t, in fact Luke loved how hard you pulled on his hair when you were coming for him.

“I’m almost there baby” he warned you himself.

The sound of your little whimpers and whines from the overstimulation were driving him crazy and he knew he wasn’t going to hold up much longer.

“Go ahead, come for me Luke” you encouraged as you pulled him down for a sloppy kiss.

A moan escaping your throat as his hands tightly gripped your hips, you knew they’d leave a bruise but you didn’t care.

“Fuck!” He groaned as he felt himself release inside you, his sweaty forehead placed against your damp chest as your fingers ran through his equally sweaty curls.

You two caught your breaths for a moment before he pulled back and looked up at you with hazy smile on his face.

“Have fun?” You laughed

“Couldn’t have though of a better way to start my birthday, thank you baby” he smiled and pulled you in for a loving kiss.

“Anything for my birthday boy” you smiled back as you pulled him to lay all the way against your chest as you continued to play with his hair.

“We should probably shower” he spoke up and while you didn’t feel like getting out of bed you agreed.

You whimpered as you felt him pull out of you but you were just met with silence, you looked down and giggled at the sight of Luke watching how your mixed releases dripped out from your core.

“Round two in the shower?”

#luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes smut #nhl #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #umich hockey #new jersey devils #nhl smut #hockey smut

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chukys-mouthguard · 3 months ago

Note

surprised nobody wrote anything about cowboy rempe at the stampede. he looked 🙃. would love a written concept on bumping into him there and maybe he spills a drink on you but you end up getting dragged away and he catches up to you later on in the night and you end up dancing and maybe he even wins u a goofy prize playing ring toss or a corny game.🤠

step right up

1.7k words

pairing: matt rempe x female reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

note: i didn’t not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes 🫶🏼

Spinning around the dance floor, you grabbed a hold of your cowboy hat, holding it tight to your head as you swayed along to the familiar line dancing song. Trying your best to pick up the steps from your friend as she was the expert of the group, always prepared to break out any line dance she can at the drop of a hat.

Throwing your head back laughing you opted for doing your own thing, moving to the music as you sipped your drink. You had forgotten just how fun the Stampede could be; drinks, live music, fair food and games. It was the highlight of the summer.

“Oh shit-”

As you’d done one too many spins you found yourself crashing into a taller boy, towering over you as his chest was smacking you in the face. Your drink spilling all over your shorts, thank god they were black denim and it wasn’t too noticeable.

“I am so sorry, oh my gosh. Are you okay?”

You smiled up at him, laughing as you wiped your hand on your shorts, drying it as best you could though it would do nothing for the stickiness that would remain.

“I’m okay, honest. I’m the clutz not paying attention to where I’m spinning. Are you okay?”

Looking up at him you’d not noticed before how handsome he was. His black denim jacket just tight enough to show off his build, paired with a black t-shirt and blue jeans then topped off with a cream colored cowboy hat. He had a mustache that you’d found fitting on him, though you normally weren’t a fan. Perhaps it just looked good with his choice of outfit for the night.

“Me? Yeah, I’m great, no complaints. Um, sorry about your drink, and your clothes.”

You shrugged it off, little did he know you’d not paid for the drink so you didn’t mind. As the boy went to offer you a replacement your friends were pulling you off into the crowd as a familiar song began playing.

Waving him goodbye he softly smiled, mentally punching himself for not being quicker to speak and get your name. As he watched your figure fade into the crowd he sighed, hoping that somehow he’d cross your path again.

“Matt, dude, you good?”

Ty appeared at the boy's side, offering him a beer as he tried to pinpoint what his friend was looking at. Not seeing anything but a sea of people he gave up, now standing in front of Matt to try and get his attention.

“Sorry, um, yeah. I’m good.”

Matt made a point to keep his eye on you, hoping he’d have another chance to make up for his clumsiness. To get your name and drink order, perhaps even your number. But as he saw you and your friends heading for the door, he knew that window of opportunity was closing.

“Ty, let’s head out, yeah?”

Ty didn’t bother questioning Matt, assuming he’d grown tired of the bar they were at and wanted to make the rounds. Matt’s strides were swift as he maneuvered through the crowd of fairgoers, Ty having to rush to keep up. Unsure as to why Matt was in such a hurry, with it only being eight o’clock and the fairgrounds open until at least one in the morning.

Suddenly Matt came to a halt, Ty finally catching up to him as he followed Matt’s eyes. Seeing you and your friends crowded around a carnival game that surely was rigged. The objective? Knock down the milk bottles without them falling off the pedestal, practically impossible.

“Ohhh, I see. You’ve got your eyes on a girl huh?”

Matt smiled, slightly embarrassed as he tried to shrug off his friend’s comment. Watching you point out a stuffed animal elephant holding a peanut that you so desperately wanted. The only way to win that prize was to be absolutely perfect in the game, but with several drinks in your system, Matt could tell by your first throw you weren’t leaving a winner.

“I spilled my drink on her Ty, I wanted to try and repay her, but she left the bar before I could.”

“Soooo you’re stalking her now to buy her a ‘sorry I’m a tall lanky clutz’ drink?”

Matt shot Ty a glare at his comments, leaning against a nearby building as he continued watching your failed attempts at winning your desired prize.

“Not stalking Ty, simply a man after something he wants. And I hate to say, I want her number. She’s beautiful.”

Ty flicked the brim of Matt’s cowboy hat, rolling his eyes as he found a spot against the wall to reluctantly join him. “Okay lover boy, so what’s your master plan to get her number? Star at her from afar all night and hope she notices your eyes burning a hole in the back of her head?”

You’d handed another ten dollars to the worker, getting another three chances at the prize you’d been listing over. A smile on Matt’s face as he watched your friends giving you a pep talk, laughing at how hard you were working for this prize. Though he admired your persistence for the plush that surely wasn’t worth the money.

“Well, that’s thirty bucks down the drain. I need another drink!”

Matt watched as you and your friends made your way across the path to a new bar, finding a place at the counter to order a round of drinks. Once the game had been available and reset, he walked up to the counter to take his chances. Ty rolled his eyes with a groan as he joined Matt at the booth, praying that he’d somehow get lucky and win so that the boys could get back to drinking.

“I do not come to the Stampede for carnival games dude, and you’re twenty-two years old by the way. Trying to win an stuffed animal elephant for a girl…who if I had to guess-”

Ty glanced back at you and your friends tossing back shots at the bar, turning back to Matt as he studied the baseballs to find the perfect one to throw.

“She’s definitely at least twenty-one, maybe if we are lucky she is older and can get you to act your age for once.”

“Newsflash Ty, she was just playing this same exact game so shut your goddamn mouth for five minutes so I can concentrate.”

Matt took a deep breath, stretching his arm a bit as if he was getting ready to pitch the final game of the World Series. Ty just shaking his head, praying that no one passing by was catching a glimpse at how embarrassing this scenario was becoming.

“Fuck!”

Matt’s first throw not even close to the tower of milk bottles, a soft chuckle coming from Ty as he tried not to add to his friend’s frustration. Simply giving him some halfhearted words of encouragement as Matt picked up his next baseball.

As you finished your second drink at the bar, you glanced out at the crowd passing by, a tall figure catching your eye at the booth of the game you’d just thrown thirty dollars at. Only for you to realize it was the culprit who had spilled your drink at the previous bar, mainly since he was the tallest man at Stampede and was too hot not to notice.

You watched as he handed over another bill to the worker as he was handed three more baseballs, his friend clearly fed up with having to watch the taller boy failing continuously at the game. Chuckling to yourself you’d ordered another round of drinks for your friends, keeping an eye on the two boys wondering how long they’d keep at it before calling it quits.

The next ten or so attempts continued similarly to the first, only getting slightly better as Matt had managed to knock over a maximum of two of the three milk bottles, though they’d not stayed on the table as was the point of the game. Ty had grown restless as he watched Matt reach in his pocket for another ten dollar bill, patting him on the shoulder as he decided to head over to the bar you were occupying and grab a drink.

“Hey! Is he having any luck over there?”

You smiled at Ty as he shook his head, throwing a shot back before he leaned against the bar to see Matt still trying his darndest to win you a prize.

“Well he’s doing it all for you, you know? He’s dropped like almost fifty bucks all to make up for your ten dollar drink he spilled on you back at the other bar.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Matt, seeing him hang his head as he’d thrown away another ten dollars in failed attempts. Needing to put a stop to things before he dropped a hundred dollars trying to win you a no more than fifteen dollar stuffed animal that you did not need in the slightest.

“Hey, cowboy.”

Matt turned to see you now next to him, a smile on his face as you were the last person he expected to see at his side.

“What the hell are you doing over here?”

“Isn’t it obvious, trying my luck at becoming an MLB pitcher.”

You laughed at his sarcasm, seeing a ten dollar bill in between his fingers and quickly reaching for it. Tucking it in the breast pocket of his jean jacket, leaving him with a confused look on his face.

“While I appreciate you embarrassing yourself at this carnival game that is surely rigged just to repay me for a drink…did you ever think of just buying me a drink?”

Matt scratched his head as he’d realized that would’ve been the logical thing to do, despite Ty telling him several times it had only gotten through to him coming from you.

“I mean, that would’ve been the more obvious route to take. But, I wanted to stand out I guess? Be different than just another guy offering you a drink?”

Nodding your head you smiled up at him, his smirk causing you to blush but luckily your cowboy hat hid your cheeks from him.

“And how did that go? Wanting to be different and all?”

“Wanting to be different ran me about fifty bucks.”

He awakedly rubbed his hands together, watching as you reached towards his pocket pulling the ten dollar bill from it and flashing it at him between two fingers.

“Well, lucky for you the drink I like will only cost you less than ten.”

#matt rempe blurb #matthew rempe fic #matt rempe fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe fluff #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe #matthew rempe #nhl imagine #nhl fics #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb

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ilsanslut · 1 year ago

Note

you said male reader and I appear

boo

anyway, I’d love for your fave blue lock boys getting spanked by male reader

and I disappear now

꒷♡꒷ HIT ME, BABY!

♰ featuring: kaiser michael. shidou ryusei. [blue lock + separate]

♰ note: when i saw this pop up in my ask box i JUMPED into my desk chair with the most devious laugh ever LIKEE the joker could never. anyway, here are my baby boys getting their asses handed to them, as well as my first-ever male!reader work. (honestly i might make this into a lil series because i literally love too many blue lock characters-) enjoy!

sypnosis: naughty boys deserve to get spankings. content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. masc/male-bodied!reader. dominant/top!reader. bratty bottoms. minor dub-con? (kaiser). forced masturabation (kaiser). spanking. one cock-stepping moment (shidou). masochism (shidou). ryusei has daddy issues. one-time usage of the word ‘daddy’ (shidou). hair-pulling. cursing. degradation. punishments w/ no actual penetration. ꒷꒦

MICHAEL KAISER.

There were numerous things that irritated you about your teammate Kaiser: his superiority complex, the way he talked down to others who he saw as inferior, his inhuman skill that rivaled some of our generation's greatest, and his ridiculously good looks. But you had no idea how you of all people had become his number one target on his shitlist. It began cordially enough—or as cordial as you could be when dealing with Kaiser—but things quickly devolved into vile territory. He would annoy you to no end, from bumping into you in the hallway to stealing your towels as you were getting out of the shower, to making patronizing comments about you during practice, and even enabling his lapdog Ness to steal the ball from you during what should have been obvious goals at your games.

He was always meticulous about his appearance, so you knew he was taking extra time in the shower to get rid of the hard work he had done today to make your life as miserable as possible. You headed for the showers, which were nearly empty, but for one in the middle, front and center, fit for an emperor, with the curtain closed and the water running. You heard the faintest tune hummed in German from behind the curtain, and, without warning, you fisted the curtain in your hand and snatched it open. Panic overcame Kaiser's handsome face as he saw you, his eyes widening in response to being leered at in his most vulnerable state. There was a fleeting look of fear in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a smug glare and a pinch of his eyebrows.

“R-Really, Y/N?” Even with the sneer in his tone, you could tell it was merely a ploy to cover up the tremble in his voice. “I didn’t take you for the perverted type who—”

You did not even wait for him to finish before stepping into the shower yourself, unconcerned about getting soaked while still fully clothed, and snatching the curtain closed behind you. Seeing the look of a silent fury twisting your features, Kaiser’s expression dropped. However, before he could attempt to make a break to safety, you were shoving him against the ceramic walls cheek-first while your body and sheer mass pinned him there from behind. He grunted, struggling against your overwhelming strength as your forearm pinned itself across his shoulder blades, firmly pinning him there.

“W-What are you doing?! Get off of m—”

You silenced him with a sharp swat to his, surprisingly, bubbly ass, the sound of the hit echoing off the walls around you two, and effectively quarreling whatever rebuttal he was about to spew your way.

“I’ve had enough of your shit, Kaiser.” You snarled, emphasizing your words with two well-placed smacks on both of his ass cheeks, making him yelp with each one. You held him taut, fisting the back of his dyed hair and pulling his head back until his ear was right next to your lips. Even then, you could see the faintest trace of horror and what looked like yearning in his wide, blue eyes. For what? You didn’t know, nor did you care, right now.

“You berate me on the field—”

SMACK.

“Thrownin’ off my obvious fuckin’ goals—”

SMACK.

“And stick your dumb little lapmutt onto me, just because you know you can’t devour me on your own—!”

SMACK. SMACK

Kaiser’s teeth were gritted as he tried to hold back his sharp grunts and ill-timed moans, but no sound could be hidden from your ears within the confines of the echoing chamber. You gave him the briefest moments of reprieve, groping his abused cheeks in your large palm as your hand shook with poorly contained malice. Your hand that was in his hair jerked his head back more, pulling him slightly off of the wall so that you could peer over his shoulder, only to confirm your suspicions that yes, Kaiser was hard, and yes he was getting off to this.

“Dirty bitch,” You snarled in his ear amidst your amused chuckle. “Are you really getting off to this? Getting your pretty lil’ cock hard over being spanked like a disobedient slut you are in the showers, huh?”

“O-Oh, fuck you, Y/N. I am not—AH~!”

Kaiser let out a high-pitched, sultry squeal as you gave him another well-earned smack on his ass, feeling the pleasure shoot through his veins and making his cock jump. His face was flushing red, just like his posterior, and it was not from the heat from the shower.

“Yeah?” You breathed haughtily in his ear. “Go on then, jerk your cock for me, baby. I know a desperate thing like you is just aching to cum all over these walls, aren’t you?”

His fists balled at his sides as his teeth gritted against one another, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of letting you have your way. You merely clicked your tongue at his behavior, releasing his grip on his hair to instead wrap your large palm around his throbbing shaft and pump him yourself instead.

Grasping at your shorts with one fist to maintain balance, he choked on his own groans, his knees weakening as his body shook against your powerful one. He twisted around in your grip, trying to struggle free from your sneaky fingers, but it was no use.

“Y-Y/N, you f-fucking, ngh! S-Stop that!” He spat half-heartedly, despite the fact that his hips were practically fucking themselves into your deft digits.

You didn’t respond to him verbally, instead giving him another smack on the ass, just to witness his hips jolt and his cock twitch in your palm, drawing a sadistic cackle from your lips.

“What kind of whore gets off on being spanked, huh? You some kind of masochist of somethin’, Micha’?”

He didn’t reply—he couldn’t reply. His vision blurred and his mind went numb from the pleasure of having his rival fist his cock and dominate him completely when he was at his most vulnerable. He looked so pretty like this, with his hues rolled behind his half-lidded lids, his jaw dropped and gaping to release a steady string of moans, a line of drool pooling from his lips while his cheeks flushed a deep red from the humiliation of it all—he was perfect.

His groans grew shrill, and, before you knew it, he was utilizing your body as a rock to stay upright while his legs trembled under him. In an instant, hot, thick ropes of sticky cum spewed from his throbbing shaft and over himself and the shower walls. His body convulsed in your hand as a barrage of obscenities and things you could not make out in German fell from his lips. You laughed at him, cackled at his humiliation, the exact same way he would do to you when he would knock you down.

You didn’t stop there. You continued to pump his cock until he was well into overstimulation and fighting to escape your grasp. He eventually triumphed over you with a forceful shove, sending you reeling a few paces behind him as his weakness caused him to fall to the ground. There on his knees, he gazed up at you, his lips parted and panting, his semi-hard cock twitching languidly against his thigh, his pupils blown wide. He was a beautiful wreck, and it was all your fault.

“Yeah, nah.” You huffed, observing how his unfocused eyes suddenly widened and his lips drew in a sharp gasp as he watched you reach into your shorts with a near-feral grin on your face.

“I’m not finished with you, yet.”

RYUSEI SHIDOU

You know what happens when you feed a gremlin after midnight? That was Ryusei, except every day and 24/7. So much so that he was frequently a well-deserved victim of Blue Lock’s “Anti-Riot” electric shock. Today was one of those instances where, once again, Ryusei and Rin couldn’t see eye-to-eye on the field, leading to the two getting into a physical altercation initiated by the former. This time, they both were electrocuted, but instead of having additional staff handle Ryusei, you effortlessly scooped the male up and over your shoulder, walking off of the practice field with him. No one else on PXG dared to question it, not even Julian Loki, who just watched on with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head.

You made your way to the locker room, kicking the door open with your foot before setting Ryusei’s semi-conscious and lethargic form down on one of the benches against a set of lockers. Picking up a stray water bottle, you aimed the nozzle at your boyfriend before squeezing mercilessly, allowing a continuous spray of water to pelt against the blonde’s face. He gasped and spluttered as he awoke with a start, using his coughs to try and resist your water assault.

“Y/N?! W-What the hell is your problem? Cut that shit out!” He all but snarled at you, spitting some of the water out of his mouth.

Releasing your grip on the bottle, you stared at him impassively, thoroughly unamused by both his behavior and his language. Using the collar of his shirt to wipe his face, Ryusei took a moment to get his bearings and realized that the two of you were in the locker room and not on the field.

“. . . What happe—”

“You know exactly what the fuck happened, Ryusei.” Your sharp tone cut him off, your eyes narrowing on his now-widened fuschia ones. He looked a bit taken aback by your tone, but as he took in your demeanor and the way you were sitting with your elbows on your knees while glowering at him through your lashes, he understood that you were pissed at him.

“We talked about this, Ryu. It doesn’t matter how pissed off you get, you can’t just start swinging on your teammates whenever they annoy you!” You berated him, standing up now as you threaded your hands through your hair in exasperation.

All the while, your boyfriend sat there, scratching at his ear with his pinky and blowing off the excess nonchalantly as though you were boring him.

“Jeez, this is why you brought me here? You’re starting to sound like my old man.”

You paused, hands dropping by your sides as you felt a vein pulsating just above your eyebrow.

Is he serious right now?

Ryusei stood up abruptly, thrusting his hands into his pockets and assuming his usual slouching stance. His lips were pulled into a frown, and his expression was uninterested, as if he couldn’t care less about what you were saying right now.

Taking a step closer to you, he would say, “Y’know, lecturing me isn’t going to do either of us any good, babe. I’m going to continue to do my own thing, and you’re going to continue doing yours. There is no need to waste any of our breaths.” A sly, joker-like grin formed on his face, a hand leaving his pocket to rise to your face, rudely flicking a strand of hair above your eye, “Kapeesh?”

You were silent, fists balled by your sides, as you resisted the urge to strangle the forward where he stood. Taking your silence as compliance, Ryusei rolled his eyes and began to stroll out of the locker room, done with the conversation. That is, if you had not prevented his departure by lunging your fist forward and balling up the back of his shirt from behind. On instinct, the blonde whipped around with the intention of landing one of his infamous kicks on the side of your head, which you easily countered by grabbing the front of his shirt in one hand and his face in the other and slammed him down onto the floor.

Like a hyena trapped in a poacher's net, he struggled fiercely beneath you, hissing, spitting, biting, and snarling at you. But you persisted in your silence, pressing harder with your hand on his jaw until you were forcefully smushing his cheek against the ground, forcing him to finally submit under your brute strength. The two of you lay there for a while, Ryusei panting heavily beneath you and you glowering him down with every inch of your being, before it was you who broke the silence.

“I’m sick of your shit, Ryusei.” For emphasis, you pressed down harder on his face, relishing in the whimper that emitted from his lips while you did so. “Talking about how I ‘sound like your old man’, well, maybe I should act like him and knock some fuckin’ sense into you, huh?”

Ryusei’s eyes flashed for a brief moment, full of indignation and trepidation, but you were unyielding.

“ . . . Do it, pus—”

You didn’t hesitate to give him a quick pop on the mouth to shut him up, much to his astonishment. Before he could react, you captured fistfuls of his spiked locks in your hand, dragging him over to the benches until you could sit down and lug your 185cm boyfriend over your muscular thighs. As the reality of the situation began to settle in on him, he immediately began to struggle as a slew of curses spat from his scowling brims. However, you quickly subdued him by pinning the wrist that was farthest from you behind his back and your own leg over the back of his calves, preventing him from moving anywhere.

“Y-Y/N, you can’t be serious!”

And you were. Without a word to him, your dominant hand rose into the air before delivering a swift swat to his rear. You didn’t hold back either, knowing that with his blue lock body suit and practice uniform on, the blow was well-cushioned. Ryusei lurched on your lap, his free hand dragging his blunt nails against the bench with a startled cry. His jaw clenched, extending his free arm as far as it could go before bringing it back unforgivingly to jab it into your side.

“Let me go, you fucking sadistic bastard!”

Sadistic, huh? You seized the top of his shorts and the bottom of his bodysuit in one swift motion, yanking them down his toned thighs to expose his equally caramlized cheeks. You struck his cheeks with a series of enraged blows, striking each one with a hard spank from your thick, callused hands. In an instant, his ass was turning a vivid red, and instead of attempting to resist you, he was concentrating on preparing for each of your relentless blows. However, your pace was unpredictable. Some swats were fast and in rapid succession of the latter, while others were slow and calculated, almost as though you were trying to soothe the skin in between hits. It was abundantly evident that you were trying to teach him a lesson and venting your anger toward him. Aside from the occasional grunt or whimper from your now-silent boyfriend, this was the quietest you had heard him all week.

You gave your boyfriend a moment of respite, making sure he had not fainted on your lap. You massaged his sore ass in your palm while releasing his limp arm to grab his hair and pull his head back so you could look him in the eye.

Ryusei's normally keen eyes were now unfocused and brimming with tears, rolling into the back of his head; his cheeks were flushed a fierce red, smeared with the few tears that had escaped his eyes; and his pink lips were parted, gasping as strands of crystalline drool pooled over his bottom lip.

You had ruined him.

“Oh, Ryusei. . .” You cooed mockingly, bringing both of your hands to his face to cup his cheeks gently. As you gently shook his face back and forth to get him to focus on you, he sank to his knees between your thighs. “C’mon, pretty boy. Stay w’me.”

It took a moment, but you could finally see the life resorting in his fuschia hues, just as you felt something sticky on your calf. Glancing past the ruined face of your boyfriend, you discovered that his slender cock was hard and pulsating, its red tip drooling with pre as it adhered to your leg and soaked a tiny puddle in the material of your bodysuit. Poor mutt. He had been so turned on by this that he nearly came right into your lap, and you hadn’t even realized it.

Then it hit you. That’s why he had gone quiet—not because he was focusing on prepping himself for your swats, but because he was focusing on trying not to cum.

“Aren’t you just pathetic, Ryu? Nuthin’ more than a dumb painslut who only thinks about fighting and getting a nut off.”

His brows furrowed from your degrading words, but he couldn’t help the way his cock jumped against your calf from having you be so, so mean to him.

“You wanna get off? Wanna cum all over your pretty self, hm?”

He gave a desperate nod, babbling out whatever few unintelligible words his stupid mind could manage, but they seemed to be in needy plea to cum. With a maniacal smile on your face, you violently wrenched your partner away from you while he looked up at you with those wide, desire-filled eyes.

“Y-Yes, fuck. Y/N please. .”

You silently moved your leg between his knees, pressing the top of your cleats against his balls, observing as he practically doubled-over your leg with a high-pitched whine, his cheek pressed against your knee as his arms wrapped around your calf. Already, his thighs were quivering around your foot as he tried not to cum right then and there from the stimulation.

“Fuck yourself on my shoe, Ryusei.” You demanded, watching as he gawked at you incredulously, but your expression was unchanging. “You wanna cum, don’t you?” You quipped, folding your arms over your chest and quirking an eyebrow at him, to which he nodded desperately once more. “Then hump my leg like the dirty mutt you are.”

With a muffled groan, he did as you demanded of him, albeit with a slight bit of hesitation. He made sure he was situated well enough, the underside of his cock pressed up against your laces as he gave a few testing thrusts of his hips, each one brushing against your shin every time. He gradually increased his speed before descending into complete degeneracy. Desperate to chase his release that had been building over time, he was fucking himself against your leg while huffing, panting, grunting, and groaning. Your partner, possessed by his untamed desire, was drooling over your thigh while you watched from above. Your own cock twitched in your shorts as you admired the already fucked-out and near pornographic expression on his face.

Aiding the little masochist further, you leaned over him to place yet another swat against his reddened ass, causing a cry of pleasure and pain to emit from his lips and his hips to sputter against you.

“You like being spanked like this, don’t you, painslut?” You growled into his ear, causing a high-pitched whine to sound from his drooling brims.

“Y-Yes! Yes! Hit me more! Ngh, p-please, Daddy!”

You hissed, your cock straining against the tight confines of the bodysuit you were trapped in, but you did not touch yourself just yet. This was about Ryusei, not you, after all.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess over Daddy’s leg? Gonna cum all over his cleats? Hm, baby?”

“Hah, sh-shit! Yes, yes, yes! I-I’m gonna—mm’fuck~! C-Cum!”

A sadistic grin arose on your features, swatting another well-placed smack on his ass before leaning back on the bench, glowering down at Ryusei from over your nose. His fucked-out gaze could barely meet your own as the movement of his hips grew sloppy and his thighs quivered around your leg from the way you looked at him. He huffed, panting and drooling against your thigh as a slew of curses escaped his lips—he was close.

However, before he could enjoy the sweet, sweet euphoria of finally reaching his high, your hand threaded itself into his locks, peeled him off of you, and pushed him back into an opposing bench behind him. Ryusei gawked at you, utterly dumbfounded, as he slouched back against the bench, processing what had just happened. His cock, which was an angry red and throbbing, twitched against his thigh, thoroughly messy with pre. It took a moment, but his surprise soon gave way to frustration, and his face twisted with rage. Did you really just deny him?

“Y-Y/N, what the fu—”

“—Did you seriously think that you deserved to cum after the shit you pulled both on the field and in here, huh, Ryusei? Oh, don’t tell me you forgot that this was a punishment, babe.”

At your faux pout and mocking tone, he went silent, his face burning with indignation as his lips pressed themselves into a thin line. His eyes, despite being clouded by desire, had the faintest hints of vexation and desperation in them, which you picked up on. You rose to your feet, laughing at Ryusei's angrily pleading gaze, still desperate for his release but enraged that you refused to give it to him.

You bent over at the waist, grabbing his jaw in your palm, forcing your heated gazes to meet.

“Clean yourself up and get your ass back on that field, Ryu—and don’t you dare touch yourself, got it?”

Ryusei did not say anything in response; he just stared at you with that same disgruntled expression on his pretty face. Before long, he nodded, albeit not without the faintest of pouts appearing on his lips as he did so. You leaned in and gave his disheveled brims a quick peck before straightening up once more.

“Good. Now, hurry up,” You ordered as you began to make your way out of the locker room, however, not without casting a salacious stare over your shoulder in his direction. He was watching you go with his fists balled at his sides, his eyes begging for you to come back and let you finish. You didn’t.

“Don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head, Ryu. I’m dealing with you once practice is over.”

#blue lock #blue lock smut #bllk smut #bllk imagines #ryusei shidou #michael kaiser #michael kaiser smut #shidou smut #ryusei shidou smut #blue lock x male reader #bllk x male reader #i suck at writing endings pls god dont perceive me #vampiiebitez #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader

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echoingspectrum · 5 months ago

Note

God forbid character reader comes home in a single 10 pull *imagine caelus losing to bailu, stelle? No 5 star yet and it's her 70 pull, but dan heng? E2 in first 10 pull lc in 3*

Source : The Gamer's Penchant

Imagine Gamer!Seele, Dan Heng, Caelus, and Stelle streaming in one in the fucking morning⏤BISH-PLSSS They have such a hectic sleep schedule 😭 only to stream their pulling sesh at your banner. By the way⏤you'll imagine what unit, element, and rarity you will be. But if you ask me, you're a FIVE STAR cause you're a special and precious lil being 🥹

Caelus has the golden ticket, as all of them watched the animation unfold, with PomPom being thrown away by the golden glow. They all watched in anticipation as Caelus slowly and deliberately prayed for hope to God above that he would win his 50/50 cause he couldn't stand Seele ridiculing him any longer.

Caelus: It's a⏤It's a⏤IT'S A⏤…….BAILU?!?!?!?!?!?!

Seele: KAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Hey- atleast she's a Vidyadhara, ain't she? KAKAKHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA⏤

Caelus: SCREW YOU, SEELE!!!

He proceeded to sulk behind the screen, Seele maniacally laughing at the background of the conversation. The chats were driven by these reactions of theirs.

Stelle? She keeps pulling until her tickets run out, AND SHE HASN'T GOT ANY SIGN OF PULLING A FIVE STAR⏤AND SHE'S AT HER 90 PULL! She wants to smack her PC upside down, but she tells herself how expensive PCs are nowadays~

Seele and Dan Heng? They're still going at it. They've pulled and, at the same time, got the five star ticket animation. Would they win? Or, nahhhh…Caelus and Stelle were hyping the viewers up, serving as the commentators on this stream. The viewers are now placing their bet.

If Seele loses, she has to salvage her best relic; if Dan Heng loses, he'll have to delete his best lightcone ( this was before he pulled at your lightcone ).

The big reveal is here—one click away—and their fate is to be sealed.

click

Seele lost her 50/50 to Bronya, and Dan Heng has won his 50/50 with you. You blessed him with your enthralling splash art; he screenshotted his victory and posted it on Twitter. Caelus and Stelle, like the menaces they are, laughed at Seele's misery and watched as she salvaged her best relic.

Caelus: Karma's a bitch, ey?

Seele: THIS FUCKING RIGGED!

Stelle: womp womp

Dan Heng clicked the skip button since he's already won at the unofficial bet⏤BUT WAIT! JUST WAIT! As soon as it displayed on the screen, all of them are SCREAMING THEIR GUTS OUT⏤Not only Dan Heng got one, not two,….BUT THREE OF YOU!!!!!??? Which means he has E2 of you! HOW LUCKY COULD HE GET?!

Caelus: The gods above adored him…

Seele just screamed into the mic and called it BS; it surprises everyone, but they laughed it off afterwards because this stream is the highlight of everyone's day. Dan Heng, of course, posted this on his Twitter and tagged Seele in, just to boast, gloat, and be a little gremlin toward her.

#☆ echoing depths #dan heng x reader #honkai star rail #character x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x y/n #hsr stelle #hsr caelus #hsr seele

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kitten4sannie · 2 years ago

Text

15 - ꜱɪᴢᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ - ᴍɪɴɢɪ

ʜᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟᴅ

pairing: himbo bf! mingi x fem! reader feat. yunho, san, and seonghwa

genre: college/frat au, smut

summary: your boyfriend is really bad at taking hints.

w.c: 2.7k

warnings: alcohol use, weed mention, switch! mingi, switch! reader, mingi has a big dick, pet names, name calling, dirty talk, grinding, begging, unprotected sex (don’t be like them), bulge kink, exhibitionism, voyeurism, poor attempt at humor

a/n: love me a good himbo <3 this man is dumb in this just how i like themmm. also the song i imagine playing during the dance scene is “deep” by summer walker <3

FFF Masterlist

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You never particularly enjoyed the drink options at frat house parties. They only ever had giant kegs full of cheap beer, along with an endless supply of Tito’s vodka, swearing they had a life supply stocked up in the basement. When you asked Mingi’s friend Yunho where the soda was, all he did was shake his head and say in a slurred voice, “Coach said we gotta cut out sugar.” You genuinely wondered if he was trying to make a joke or if he was 100% serious, but the serious lack of anything chaser-related was making you think he wasn’t lying to you. It seemed like football players were fueled by countless liters of alcohol and protein powder alone. No wonder they were so aggressive on the field.

“Here,” Yunho said, handing you a solo cup filled to the brim with beer, his reddened eyes still friendly and bright. “My brother makes it himself.” You gave him a smile and a thanks, before scanning the crowd for Mingi.

Once you found him, you took a few sips of the watered-down beer Yunho gave you, zoning in and out of the heated conversation your boyfriend was having with his friends about whether professional sports were rigged or not.

“Baby, can you please back me up?” Mingi asked in a whiny voice, snaking an arm around your waist, fingers squeezing you, his plump lips forming a pout. “Tell Seonghwa how stupid he is for thinking sports are fake.”

God, he was so fucking cute. You needed him. Needed to see him pout when he begged you to bounce on his dick.

Taking a long swig of the glorified water, you cleared your throat, leaning your body against Mingi’s. “Seonghwa, I think it’s really bold of you to assume they’re all fake, and honestly, I think you might just be in denial since your teams never win.”

The rest of Mingi’s drunk companions erupted in low ‘ooh’s’ and ‘damns’, some of them nodding their heads in agreement. San, who was already fucked up, made a show out of his reaction, smacking Seonghwa’s shoulder with his hand and pointing a finger at him, grinning at his friends. “He literally never bets on the right team. It’s so fucking funny.”

Irritated, Seonghwa scoffed and rolled his eyes, taking a drink of his beer with one hand shoved into his pocket. “Where’d you find this one, Mingi?”

“Don’t start.” Mingi clutched you against his side defensively, taking a sip from his drink. “Or else I’ll put hot chili oil in your jockstrap, like I did during your hazing.”

That shut Seonghwa up, leading him to hold his hands up in defeat. Mingi idly stroked your hair while continuing his conversation with his friends, this time talking about their favorite plays from last night’s game. You went back to being bored, but this time your mind was swimming with thoughts of Mingi stroking your hair while his cock was down your throat.

That was it. You needed to jump into action. However, you didn’t want to be too forward, not wanting to ask for Mingi’s cock in front of at least a quarter of the football team — though a part of you wanted them to know that he was about to pound you into oblivion.

“Baby, I’m so cold,” you whined softly, looking up at Mingi with the cutest expression you could conjure up, rubbing your bare arms up and down. “Can you warm me up?”

“Of course, doll.” Mingi let go of you and pulled his letterman jacket off, leaving him in a plain white, rather tight-fitting t-shirt. He put it over your shoulders, smiling at you. “Better?” As soon as you nodded and gave you a small smile back, he went back to talking to his buddies.

Damn. Too subtle. You weren’t about to give up, though. After staring into the distance for a while, idly sipping on your beer and still wishing you had access to a coke, you hatched another plan. Feeling ecstatic when a R&B song finally came on, knowing it would be easier to get into instead of the rap that was blasting out of the speakers a minute ago, you rubbed your hand up Mingi’s waist, lifting yourself up on your heels to murmur into his ear, “Baby, I want to dance. I really like this song.”

Ignoring San’s begs for him to duel him in a game of beer pong, Mingi pressed a kiss to your temple, slipping his hand underneath his oversized jacket to touch the small of your back. “Let’s go then.”

Maybe he was being subtle, too. How hot of him. “Yay~” You pulled his jacket off and walked over to Yunho, who was talking to someone else. You gave him the jacket, and in turn, he gave you a quick smile and put it over his shoulder to look after.

Once the two of you were on the dance floor, which was just the oversized living room filled with drunken, sweaty people, you turned away from Mingi and pressed yourself into him, running your hands down your snug dress along to the tempo of the music. Mingi placed his hands instinctively on your swaying hips, moving along with you, leaning himself down to press his lips onto your jaw. Completely immersed in your own world, the bass thumping inside your ears, you began grinding on him in a more deliberate way, his heavy cock growing hard against your ass, making your brain feel fuzzy.

“Baby, they can see us, you know,” he mumbled under his breath, trying to pretend he couldn’t see Yunho waving at him from the kitchen and giving him a thumbs up. He definitely wouldn’t look at San, who was grabbing his imaginary tits and moaning obnoxiously loud. And he didn’t even notice Seonghwa staring at the both of you with contempt, even though there was a faint blush on his cheeks.

You, however, noticed and acted accordingly. “Let them watch.” Placing your hands over his and guiding them up your body, you arched your back, squeezing your tits using his hands instead. Curious, you glanced over at the kitchen, finding Mingi’s friend's dumbstruck expressions to be particularly entertaining. That would give them something to talk about, instead of rambling about football for another hour.

“Mmm…” Mingi buried his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, slowly brushing his fingers over your nipples through the thin material of your dress.

Your plan finally worked, in the best way possible, more turned on knowing his friends were watching, but not being able to do more than that and having to live through Mingi when he explained all the different times you unraveled for him. He always made sure to leave out the countless times he did that, since he always ended up drooling and begging for you to make him cum with your tight cunt.

It took one more roll of your boyfriend’s hips and a single tit squeeze for you to sigh, “Fuck, Mingi, you’re making me feel so hot…”

Mingi suddenly ceased all movement as a loading screen appeared inside his mind. “You were cold just a second ago.” He tilted his head, idly rubbing your arms and feeling how warm they were, before bringing his lips to your ear, his voice laced with concern when he asked, “Yeah, you feel really hot. You’re not getting a fever, are you, doll?” His eyebrows rose with concern, his lips forming a pout once again. “You kissed me a bunch before practice earlier – and, oh my god, babe, you sucked my dick. That’s like, direct contact, right?” He gasped, clasping a hand to his face, his concern almost borderline comical, but the poor frat boy was completely serious. “Do you think I’ll get a fever too now? I can’t miss practice!”

“No, baby, that’s not…” You bit your lip, too desperate to have him inside you to get annoyed. Turning around, you ran your hands up his torso, from his abdomen to his pecs, suggesting gently, “You know, a good way to get rid of a fever is to sweat it out, Min. Come with me.”

Once you led your boyfriend to the nearest empty bedroom, you shut the door and pushed him down onto the bed, licking your lips at the sight of him. Mingi was laying down on the mattress with his limbs spread out, his shirt just barely riding up past his hips, revealing his treasure trail. He observed his surroundings, taking note of the plushies sitting next to the pillows, before looking up at you with vague confusion. “This is San’s room. Why are we here?”

“Why do you think, baby?” you asked softly, kicking your heels off, prior to climbing onto the bed and crawling towards him, your body buzzing with anticipation.

Mingi gave you a sweet smile, running his fingers through his soft brown hair, slowly leaning his head against the firm pillow behind his head. “You want to sleep?”

“No, baby…” you started, straddling his lap and gazing down at him with love and lust in your hooded eyes, your hand settling on his broad chest. “I want to play…”

Mingi admired you, slowly running his hands from your thighs up to your waist, taking your words literally like he usually did. “Like Legos? I think Seonghwa has some in his room.”

You couldn’t possibly get mad at Mingi, finding it adorable how incredibly dense he was. It was a good thing he had such a thick skull; it would definitely prevent him from getting any more head injuries whenever he collided with another player on the field. It was probably time to stop being coy and just tell him what you wanted point blank. No nuance. No hints. Just your raw desire.

“I want to ride your cock, Min. So bad. All night I’ve been thinking about you stretching me out,” you admitted, biting the tip of one of your fingers. Your thighs pressed into his hips, your core throbbing at the thought of impaling yourself on his oversized dick for the sake of being filled by your favorite football player. “Please, Min. I’ve been such a good girl.”

The cogs moved inside Mingi’s head for a moment, then his eyes lit up, his lips forming a wide grin. “Is that why you were rubbing all over me back there? Why didn’t you just say that, baby? You know I’m bad at taking hints.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you started, lifting your dress off of yourself and tossing it onto the comforter, revealing you only had a small, lacy pair of panties on. “I should’ve just bent myself over the kitchen counter and asked you to fuck me dumb in front of your friends, huh? They’d like a little post game show, don’t you think?”

Mingi groaned at the thought of railing you while his friends gave him pointers from the sidelines, growing hard underneath you. “You’re so hot, baby. So hot and so slutty for me.” He reached down to unbuckle his belt, popping it open, just for your greedy hands to do the rest of the work, eventually pulling his long, veiny cock out.

Since you’ve been dripping pretty much the entire night, you were confident that you could take your boyfriend’s dick for a ride without needing lube. “You want me to bounce on your big cock, Min?” you asked sweetly, rubbing your soaked cunt back and forth across his dick, hearing him let out a small moan instead of a groaning sound. “Hm? Or do you want to fuck me senseless and make me cum all over your friend’s sheets?”

“Please, ride my dick, baby…” he murmured, starting to whine from your change of pace, feeling your pussy slipping and sliding all over his sensitive spots, the tip beginning to leak pre-cum. “Pleaseeee, I need it so bad. I need it so fucking bad.”

"Mmm, I suppose you've had enough, Min." You slid yourself to the tip and lifted it up just enough to begin pushing it inside, whimpering from being stretched out so intensely. Lowering yourself inch by inch, you ran your hands up underneath Mingi's shirt, lifting it up to see the defined softness of his pecs, grabbing and squeezing them.

Mingi arched his back slightly, biting and tugging at his lower lip when you finally bottomed out, the both of you moaning in unison. "Ride me, baby. Come on," he whined impatiently, running his hands over yours, guiding them down along his abs, enjoying the way your warm hands felt on his skin.

"Give me a minute," you replied in a strained voice, taking in a few deep breaths, waiting for the low burning sensation to subside.

Mingi lifted his hand up to press against your lower stomach, feeling the hard outline of his cock. "Baby's so full of me. You're such a good girl for taking my cock like this."

Something inside you switched, encouraging you to begin fucking yourself on his length, moaning, "Yeah, I'm a good girl...such a good girl for you, Min..."

"Yeah, you are," he exhaled, grabbing you by your hips and waiting for each moment you dropped yourself down to thrust himself into your tight hole, your breathy, high-pitched moans like music to his ears. "Fuck, I can feel you throbbing. It's so good, isn't it, doll?"

"So fucking good," you agreed, your lower half already starting to feel heavier, the feeling of getting pounded into by something so large and thick sending you into a state of bliss. "You're gonna make me cum soon..."

Suddenly, the door behind you swung open, and three distinct voices could be heard talking amongst themselves. "So, you're telling me your bong is in that mess on the floor?" Yunho questioned, pointing to the floor, trying to ignore what was going on in the middle of the room, the tips of his ears red and burning.

"Yeah, hold on." San walked into his room like it was just another day and stood near the two of you, giving Mingi a high five when he put his hand out. It must've been a regular occurrence with your boyfriend's previous partners. Personally, you were so dick-drunk, you didn't even care that San was studying the way your tits bounced along with your movements.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, sweetheart," San said, giving you a suggestive smile, before bending over to pick up a few articles of clothing and throwing them to the side, searching for his bong underneath the chaos.

Mingi continued to drill himself into you, his cock throbbing heavily inside you due to being watched by his friends, opting to grab both of your wrists and hold you down, not letting you escape, forcing you to take everything he was giving you. "Baby likes being watched, huh? Is Baby gonna cum from being a little attention whore?"

"Uh-huhhh..." You kept your eyes locked on his, making small whimpers each time he pounded into you, tears forming inside your eyes from having an audience.

"Goddamn..." San mumbled underneath his breath, already holding his bong inside his hand, but staying still, mesmerized by the way your ass routinely bounced when Mingi’s cock slammed inside of you. Seonghwa and Yunho were in similar situations, leaning on each other and watching the both of you with dilated eyes, wondering how the hell Mingi’s giant cock somehow fit inside your small frame without splitting you open.

"I'm...about to cum, doll." He caressed your cheek, wiping a few escaping tears, before glaring at San. "Get out of here, okay? I didn't mind you watching, but you're not about to see me nut."

Disappointed, San let out a long sigh, making eye contact with you when you glanced over at him with barely open eyes, your orgasm building up inside you at a rapid rate. "Maybe next time I can watch you two cum," he mused, only leaving the room with his friends when Mingi grabbed one of the plushies on the bed and tossed it at San's head.

Mingi, still holding your cheeks, pulled you down on top of him, slotting his lips onto yours, his hips still moving at a feverish, somewhat sloppy pace. "Cumming," he mumbled into your mouth, listening to your many muffled cries, slowly pumping his cum into your abused hole.

You melted against him, your body going completely lax, your cunt pulsing heavily, as your arousal poured out of you and dripped past Mingi's inner thighs, seeping into the comforter beneath. "So good...that was so good..." you slurred, even though you weren't drunk from the alcohol.

"I'm glad Baby likes getting dicked down so much," Mingi mused, his voice low and gravelly, reveling in the post-orgasm bliss, rubbing your back in circles. His hand suddenly went stiff, giving you a concerned look.

You pushed a few wet strands of hair behind your ear, tilting your head to the side. "What's wrong, Min?"

He gave you a small pout, his eyebrows drawn together. "My nose feels kind of stuffy.”

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FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #mingi #mingi x reader #mingi smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #mingi x you #kpop smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez drabbles #ateez oneshot #kpop fanfic #february filth fest

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simphornies · 8 months ago

Note

Hiii!! May I request some headcanons for Lucifer Morningstar with an S/O who's taller than him but is just a menace to society? If this isn't exactly your cup of tea or you have no general idea on how to start with this request, feel free to ignore, thank you!:]

🍵

A/N: I actually adore Lucifer so please give me more Lucifer requests <3 These are purely my headcanons

Lucifer x Taller!Reader [ Headcanons ]

He loves being the little spoon. He falls asleep faster when he's wrapped up under your arms and legs.

He knows you're the one that keeps putting stuff up on high shelves and he refuses to ask you for help but also refuses to use his wings to go and get it around you because he knows you'd tease him for it

You pick him up whenever he has his guard down.

You did that once and his wings popped out because of how startled he got and smacked you in the face

He apologized profusely

Sometimes he doesn't wanna walk anymore so you carry him around

He asked you to pick him up so he can shit talk Alastor face to face

He makes the rubber duck version of you bigger than the ones of him

You would constantly get into fights, never ignoring a soul in need of someone to step. This very behavior always ends with Lucifer flying away with you after you've brutalized another soul for picking on someone smaller than them

He loves hugging you for multiple reasons. One of them is because he's at the perfect height to bury himself into your chest

Oh and he uses them as pillows :)

You almost stepped on him when he was hiding from you and it unlocked something within him

You tease him in public whenever you want to leave a function and it always works because he gets too flustered to stay

You pick him up whenever he's mad at you and hold him just far enough so his legs can't reach you

He could totally use his wings to get away but he likes getting carried

You found out he likes getting carried and carry him every time you get a chance

This embarrasses him at first but then he would proudly have you carry him around wherever he needs to go

If he pisses you off, you drop him

He cries about it

And you pick him back up

Circling back to the little spoon thing, whenever he's the big spoon you always wake up to him on top of you or entangled in your limbs somehow

You got him a stepping stool once so he can, in your words, "feel like a big boy"

He only uses it when you're not around

Whenever he throws a fit and you walk away, he latches on to your legs and gets dragged as you walk off

You grab him by the ankles when he's being a brat

You shook him and rubber ducks fell out of his coat

Explosive rubber ducks

He was trying to rig Alastor's tower again

He tried to fly away

You held on

This one time, you guys got into an argument but you couldn't stay mad because he was looking up at you angry

"Why are you laughing?! This isn't funny!"

"Sorry, let me get down to your level so I can better understand why you're angry."

">:O"

There's a rubber duck in at least one of the pockets in everything you own

"Luci, no rubber ducks for the date. Please." He pouted and set down the ones he held. You squinted. "I know you have more." He whined and emptied his pockets. A pile of rubber ducks fell out of his pocket. But he looked too happy, too compliant.

You reach into your jacket's pocket and pulled out three mini rubber ducks. You stared at him, he just smiled at you nervously. "I...used your jacket?"

Taglist: @froggybich @baizzhu @dickmastersworld @matrixbearer2024 @yourdoorisunlocked @aceaoki1316 @herdreamywasteland @delusional-mushroom

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel lucifer headcanons

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waywardnerd67 · 3 months ago

Text

Cowboy Chasing

Title: Cowboy Chasing Summary: Chasing storms was simple. Chasing the tornado chasing cowboy was a whole different story. Main Characters: Tyler Owens, Reader Pairing: Tyler Owens, Reader Rating: E - Everyone Warnings: Fluff/Angst Word Count: 2481 A/N: My first fic in over a year thanks to a certain tornado chasing cowboy :) I used my taglist from over a year ago. If you don’t want to be tag please let me know (no hard feelings, I totally get it).

“Are you sure?” Her best friend asked as (Y/N) continued to pack her duffel bag.

She sighed, “Yes, I’m sure. When he left we had a fight and I can’t live with myself if anything were to happen to him.”

“How long has it been since you’ve been chasing?”

Flashes of that last night played in her mind, “A few years…”

Her best friend took her hands, “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Also, tell Boone he still owes me a dance.” They started laughing as (Y/N) zipped up her bag.

“Will do. I’ll call you when I get to Enid.” (Y/N) hugged her friend then made her way out of their apartment.

(Y/N) knew the drive to Enid, Oklahoma like the back of her hand. Every storm season that is where the chasers would gather to prep for the first chase. Checking the forecasts, she knew there was a chance the Wranglers would already be out on the road heading south towards Oklahoma City. She pulled out her phone, hitting Dani’s number and sending her a voice memo.

“Hey, I’m heading out to you guys. If you leave Enid, could you let me know. I appreciate it. Oh and don’t tell Tyler. Love ya.”

Dani’s response was immediate, “As I live and breathe, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Girl, it’s been too long. We’re heading south on the 81 towards Kingfisher in the morning. Miss and love ya.”

Another voice memo came through, “Also, your secret is safe with me. Does this mean you’re back?”

(Y/N) shook her head. The thought of chasing again was exciting and terrifying. There was no way she could go back. Not after all the time that had passed and not after the last chase. No, this trip was for closure and nothing more.

Between several cans of Monster and singing to the top of her lungs, (Y/N) made it to Enid by one in the morning. A soft smile spreading across her face seeing all the cars, vans and rigs of fellow chasers. Two groups stood out the most. The pristine white trucks and van of Storm Par were parked all by themselves. Javi must have gotten more money from Riggs noticing their team now having a fourth truck code name Toto.

Then there was the all too familiar red Dodge Ram parked in the middle of the lot. (Y/N) couldn’t believe they still had the beat up camper and van. With their YouTube channel taking off, she figured they would have at least updated the camper. Knowing Tyler, he probably used any money to go to helping the families and loved ones after a tornado. Humanitarian was one of the qualities that had attracted her to chasing with them and following Tyler Owens wherever the wind blew him.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice called out.

“Hiya Boone.” She turned around to see Boone, Dexter, Lilly and Dani all walking back from the small 24 hour diner.

“‘Bout time you came back out with us! We missed you!” He pulled her into a hug before everyone else surrounded her.

For the first time in years, (Y/N) finally felt at home again. The years she spent chasing storms with her Wrangler family were the best years of her life. Until it all went to shit.

“Well, well, who do we have here?”

His southern drawl never failed to send goosebumps over her skin, “Hey Tyler, how are you?”

“I’m good, (Y/N). I’m very good.” He smirked.

Dani smacked his shoulder, “Don't mind him, he’s been watching Top Gun Maverick on repeat.”

“You look good, Tyler.” (Y/N) couldn’t help her eyes from traveling down the length of his body.

There was nothing noticeably different about him since she last saw him a year ago. He still wore the same blue jeans, brown boots, Wrangler belt buckle and dark button down. The only thing missing was his Stetson and she knew exactly where it would be.

She noticed he was taking inventory of her as well as those dark green eyes gave her once over, “You look good too. So, what brings you out here?”

“I was hoping to talk to you before you went out tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

Tyler motioned for her to follow him to his motel room. (Y/N) waved to her family when Boone stopped her.

“You’re not staying, are you?” He asked with dark chocolate puppy eyes.

She shook her head then said, “Annie wanted me to let you know that you still owe her a dance. You should come on by and square your debt with her after this storm season.”

His smile was infectious, “I will. It was damn good to see ya, (Y/N).”

She turned around to see Tyler leaning against the door frame of his room. She stepped inside, chuckling to herself seeing some things truly would never change. He had clothes laid out everywhere drying. An empty pizza box and three beers out of six left sitting on his table. The TV was on showing infomercials until the morning news came on.

“Ya know, if you’re wanting to head back out I don’t know if we have room for you. We have a big shot British reporter going out with us this year.” Tyler offered her a bottle of water which she accepted.

“Reporter? Wow… you’ve really hit the big time.” She didn’t mean for it to come out as snarky as it did, “Hopefully, they knew what they were getting themselves into.”

Tyler flopped down on the bed, crossing his ankles and resting his head on one of his arms. Seeing his body stretched out brought up older memories of their early chasing years. The thrill of getting close to a tornado and the adrenaline they would need to work off when they got to a motel for the night. (Y/N) knew that body as well as she knew her own and now she could feel her cheeks flushing.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” He asked, a knowing smirk on his handsome face.

She rolled her eyes, knowing she played right into his little trap. He knew she would think of the good times seeing him stretched out like that. Knowing she couldn’t help to be nostalgic and remember the good ole days. As well he could read her, she could read him. (Y/N) sat down on the opposite bed taking a long drink of her water.

“The last time I was with you, we had a huge fight.” She looked over at him as he moved to mirror her sitting position.

He leaned forward on his elbows, clasping his hands together, “Mmhmm.”

“We both said some hurtful things and I wanted to clear the air between us.”

His green eyes locked onto hers, “You’re wanting an apology.”

She sighed, “No. I want you to know that… that I care about you and the team. I didn’t want you leading them into unnecessary danger for more followers or views.”

“If I remember correctly you said that I was and I quote, A reckless tornado chasing cowboy with a death wish.”

She flinched, “I know. I was frustrated and we had just lost…”

Tyler stood up, running his hand through his golden hair, “Theo knew what he was getting into when he started chasing with us. Hell, he had watched you chase well before he joined us. We all know the dangers of this job, but it’s worth it if we can help the people here.”

It was the same speech Tyler had given her a year ago. She clenched her fists on top of her knees, unable to keep the anger from flooding her system.

“Damn it Tyler, he should have never been in your damn truck! He should have been with Dex and Dani in the camper, but you wanted him to experience the real thing. What did that get him?”

She covered her mouth as Tyler’s eyes widened, “Tyler, I’m… I didn’t…”

He stormed over to the door, “If you think that I don’t spend every moment of every day not blaming myself for your brother’s death then you never knew me.”

He was gone with the door slamming shut. (Y/N) punched the bed beside her to release some of the rage overwhelming her.

“Fuck!” She yelled out before the tears started to fall, “This was not how I wanted it to go.”

After an hour, (Y/N) left the room in search of Tyler. She knew exactly where he would be heading towards his truck. He was sitting up on the roof tinkering with some the gauges.

“I’m sorry.” She said, climbing up onto the bed of the truck, “I really didn’t come here to fight again.”

“Then why did you come here? It’s been a year since you told me to get out of your life for good. Why now?” He never looked up at her.

She carefully sat up on the roof, “I hated the way we left things. I would never be able to live with myself if anything happened to you and the last thing I had said to you was I hate you.”

He glanced up at her, “You don’t hate me?”

“I think you know that I don’t. I… I never could hate you.” She sighed, “Tyler, what we had was special. We both shared the same goals in life and careers. We were good together, but losing my brother changed me. All I could think about was I couldn’t lose you the same way I lost him.”

(Y/N) looked up when she felt his hand cover hers, “I’m sorry.” he whispered.

“Me too.” She squeezed his hand and a spark ignited in her chest.

“Come on, I need a few hours of sleep and you can stay in my room on the extra bed. I’m sure you need some sleep as well.”

He jumped down onto the bed of the truck helping her down as well. He jumped down from the truck holding out his arms for her. His hand gripped her hips and he lifted her from the tailgate setting her on the ground. Her body slid down his and once again her body flooded with heat.

“You know I could sleep in my car or get my own room.” She said softly, looking up at him.

“Scared something might happen?” He smirked, making her roll her eyes.

Pushing him gently, “Nope. I gave up chasing cowboys a long time ago.”

“Really? Yet, you drove nearly eight hours to talk with me. Sounds to me like you might still be chasing cowboys.” He leaned down, “Or am I wrong?”

His soft lips were close to hers and his woodsy cologne filled her senses. Her knees were going to buckle if she didn’t step away from her and she would fall right back into oblivion with him.

“We can’t.” She whispered, “I can’t stand back and watch you drive into tornados not knowing if you’ll come back to me.”

His eyes softened as he backed away from her, “I understand. You can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep in my truck.”

“Tyler, there’s two beds. We can share the room.” She caught his arm and felt him flinch.

He never turned to look at her, “You were always the strong one. I know I won’t be able to keep myself in control. Goodnight (Y/N).”

He walked to the driver’s side, getting in his truck. (Y/N) stood there for a moment before retreating into his room. She sat on the bed thinking about everything they had said and everything that was left unsaid between them. She loved him. She had been in love with him for nearly a decade and still was. She wanted to be by his side, but that fear of not knowing if he would come back to her kept her from doing what she wanted. The sun was peeking over the horizon when she heard the door open to the motel room.

She turned around to see Tyler staring down at her. Since she hadn’t grabbed her bag, she had opted to wear one of his white t-shirts for a night shirt. (Y/N) stood up grabbing her clothes that were on the small table.

“Sorry, I will get dressed and let you get ready.” She mumbled.

His hand grabbed her elbow, spinning her towards him, “Fuck it.”

His lips crashed to hers. Immediately, the stress and tension in her body melted as he wrapped her legs around his waist. Her back hit the mattress as Tyler began a hot trail of kisses down her neck.

“Ty-Tyler…” She moaned.

He lifted himself up, “I know, I know. We shouldn’t do this, but there is nothing in the world that I need more than you. Not storm chasing or anything. All I want is you and if this is the last time I get to be with you then so be it.”

Her heart was thumping rapidly against her chest, “You still love me?”

“Seriously?” He scoffed, “You think one little fight was going to erase you from my heart? Sweetheart, there is only one other woman I spend my time chasing other than you and that’s mother nature. There’s no one else in the world worth chasing other than you.”

She couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face, “For the record, I love you too.”

His breathtaking smile appeared and (Y/N) knew she was right where she needed to be. Tyler leaned down kissing her slowly, passionately. She was pulling his shirt off when there was a knock on his door.

“Go away!” He yelled, kissing her inner thigh.

“Tyler, we got a storm brewing just outside Bartlesville. If we hit the road now then we can beat Storm Par.” Boone’s voice was barely audible as Tyler groaned.

“Alright, we’re leaving in fifteen.” He rested his cheek against her thigh, “You think we could finish in fifteen minutes?”

She giggled, “It has been a while for both of us, but no I don’t. However, after chasing this storm we could pick up where we left off at another motel. Like the good ole days.”

“You’re staying?” he asked, helping her up and sitting her on his lap.

She nodded, “Cowboy, there’s nowhere else I would rather be than by your side.”

He kissed her again, gripping her hips tight. She moaned against his lips as she rolled her hips against him.

Tyler growled when Boone banged on his door again, “Be out in five!”

“Come on cowboy,” She kissed him, “I’m feeling it, so let's go chase it.”

“Yes ma’am.” He smacked her behind before they both got up gathering their stuff and heading out to the truck.

-----

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