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mv1simp · 5 months ago

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You Get Me So High ♥️

Max Verstappen x Strategist!Reader

you get me so high, taking deep deep breaths (speeding up the heartbeat bangin out my chest)

As McLaren’s latest addition to the strategy team, you’ve worked hard to get to where you are, never being one to party too hard in college. But when you’re finally dragged to your first messy house party, you’re curious to get a taste of the drinks and party drugs you’d never tried before. Who better to corrupt your innocence than the F1 driver who hates you, Max Verstappen?

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dark!max, innocent! Reader, dubcon, explicit drug and illicit substances use, enemies to lovers, somno, 4.1k WC

Looking around the crowded house party, you took in the various Monaco elites and celebrities that laughed in the dim lighting. You hadn’t exactly known what to expect when one of your friends at the sports car company you’d started working for, McLaren, insisted that you finally needed to learn to party hard just as much as you worked. You supposed you had earned your Friday off, having joined the race strategy division 6 months ago and being responsible for numerous winning strategies this year - catching the attention of many annoyed competitions.

But your work in the F1 paddock was the furthest thing on your mind as you finally attended your first Monaco party. You took in the bottles of alcohol, the people passing joints and smoking a hookah by the pool. It wasn’t that you were naturally very naive or innocent. Or that you had some moral high ground that had stopped you from going out to college parties or having one night stands. It was more just that you’d been brought up to have a one track mind, to only focus on your academics and schoolwork only. And it had paid off and rewarded handsomely, with your rising fame as McLaren’s newest strategist at such a young age.

So you’d never quite learnt how to fit in the party scene and shyly stood at your friend’s side as she chatted away to someone else. Even though you’re feeling out of place, you certainly don’t look the part in a tight minidress, long flowy mesh sleeves and white lace giving an almost angelic contrast to the revealing sweetheart neckline. You’d noticed a few eyes wandering over you appreciatively, again making you feel nervous excitement at the chance of having a first hook up tonight. You had years of missed out college experiences to catch up on, and there was no better place than a messy house party filled with endless supply of drinks, illicit substances and attractive guys.

You’re lost in the planning of where exactly you should start when your eyes meet an intense pair of blue eyes that narrow at you. You gasp as you see Max Verstappen across the crowded room, cold expression on his handsome face even in the heat of the summer’s night. It was no secret that the current world champion was not a fan of McLaren this season as they proved to be the biggest contestant to his 4th win. And he especially was not a fan of you, whose strategy had consistently landed Oscar and Lando on the podium…and cost Max the P1.

Of course, you’d found his entitlement and arrogance extremely rude when he brushed you off anytime you’d been introduced. You were simply just doing a good job and leading your team to a constructor’s cup win - couldn’t he respect that as someone who was ambitious himself? But it didn’t matter how many times the two of you had run into each other on the paddock or when you’d accompanied the McLaren drivers to Monaco events. Max Verstappen only reserved his warm laugh and gentle eyes for Lando and Oscar, acting as if you were an invisible object he couldn’t care less for. It’d hurt your feelings to always be sidelined while he cutely smiled at others but glowered at you, because you’d developed a crush the first time you saw Max. The Dutch Lion’s tall, strong build that towered above you, his intense features and even intenser passion for his sport were all things you’d become enamoured with. But admiration turned to disdain for the driver that had now pointedly turned away from you, clearly offended that someone like you was at the same party as him.

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. Just because he was a F1 athlete didn’t mean he was any better than anyone else here! Plucking a bottle of wine from a chilled bin, you took annoyed swigs and vowed to not let Max get in the way of enjoying the night.

But a few hours later, when people have dispersed off into little groups scattered throughout the large house, you run into Max. You were wandering around looking for your friend, slightly swaying on your heels, a bit tipsy but still coherent, enjoying the loud catchy music. Hearing a noise from a closed bedroom door along the hallway, you open it without a second thought.

Oh- you say, startled at the scene of a few people dotted along a couple couches in a small room, engaging in low conversation as hazy smoke fills the air. You apologize, thinking you’re interrupting, but a couple of guys have stood up in interest and invite you to come in. You blush, still in the doorway, enjoying the rush at seeing them check you out - but are snapped out of it when a deep voice grumbles for you to get inside or go away, you’re letting all the weed out.

The irritation in the Dutch voice is unmistakable as Max Verstappen tilts his head to the side, meeting your eyes, and you realize with a jolt the broad back you’d seen on one of the sofas belonged to the F1 driver who disliked you the most. You hastily close the door behind you, walking in, the drinks you’d taken having given you the courage to confront the arrogant man instead of letting him be rude to you for once.

He meets your gaze easily, pretty blue eyes shining through even in the dark room that’s only illuminated by a few lamps. In the background you hear music playing over the speaker and one of the guys who’d invited you in offering you a hit. But your attention somehow remains on Max, as he replies for you and says Nah mate, she doesn’t do that stuff. Too much of a good girl to get high.

An indignant expression crossed your pretty face, and you purse your glossed lips at him before you sit down next to him and grab the offered joint. Wanna bet, Verstappen? His friends oohhh at your bratty tone, enjoying the reaction you’re winding up in Max. He narrows his eyes at you, clearly thinking you were bluffing. Go on then, sweetheart he says with a mocking smirk. Here, I’ll even light you up.

Taking a deep breath, you place the unfamiliar joint in between your thick lips, and then Max is suddenly in your space. He leans in close, searching eyes never leaving your wide brown ones as he brings the lighter upto your joint. The small flame illuminates the dim space and for a second it’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

And then you inhale a puff of weed-tinted air and cough at the horrible taste, finding it burns your throat. Max smirks knowingly at your inexperienced technique as his two friends laugh in amusement, telling Max he was so right, you had no idea what you were doing.

You flush in embarrassment, hating how they thought of you as some stupid naive girl. You wanted to prove you were such as capable of enjoying guilty pleasures as them. Determined, you ask Max to show you how then, if he was such a pro at getting stoned himself?

Another glimmer of interest sparks in Max’s eyes at your challenge. You breathe an internal sigh of relief, half convinced that he was just going to kick you out. Instead he murmurs sure, Princess, making you bristle at the condescending nickname. But you obediently let him guide you through another hit, making him chuckle as you cutely try to suppress your cough on the second attempt. To your surprise he patiently talks you through it again, bringing you closer to tuck you against his warm chest so he can demonstrate for you. He looks so good, you think looking up at him a little dazedly, as he easily inhales from the joint, not wasting a single wisp of smoke. The dim light highlights his angular face and attractive lips as he exhales slowly, forming a ring of O smoke with his talented tongue. You gasp in delight, voicing that was so cool, how did he do that?

He chuckles as your enthusiasm, handed it back to you to practise some more. You’re taking more hits, better each time, and his friends wander off now as they grow bored of seeing their mate reel in another pretty girl they’d wanted to ruin themselves. You’re not sure how much time has passed but at some point you realize there’s only a couple others left in the room, off in the corner themselves and giving you and Max your own private bubble. The Dutch champion is watching you intently, looking focused despite the hits he’d smoked and beer he was slowly drinking. Are you feeling anything yet, sweetheart? He murmurs huskily into your ears, sending shivers straight to your pussy. You cutely shake your head no, oblivious to how many hits you’d actually taken.

How are you so good at this, you whine, tongue loosened after the weed, saying it’s so unfair, why are you so good at everything? Rich and a F1 driver and super hot? Max laughs then, and you think you feel your heart race at the sound you’d grown to be secretly obsessed with when you heard it on the paddock. He knew a way to make sure you were getting the weed fully in your system, to make sure you were actually inhaling it, he offers, a devious smirk on his face.

You excitedly jump forward, practically in his lap as you ask how? Show me, please Max! You don’t even notice when he wraps a thick arm around your small waist, bringing your plush ass fully onto thick thighs. Instead you’re fixated on the hit he takes, holding it in - and then he gently tilts your head up, rubbing a large thumb across your pink lips. You gasp at his touch and then he’s exhaling the puff through your lips, sealing it inside your mouth with a chaste kiss.

The fact that you saw nothing scandalous about his actions should have been your first sign that you were well and truly high out of your mind. Instead, you look up at him adoringly when he breaks the soft kiss, telling him that felt so good, Maxie. You definitely got so much more of the weed that time, co-could you please do it again?

The blonde driver smirks, licking his lips like one of his Bengal cats when he has his prey right where he wants it. He doesn’t have to be asked twice, his gaze taking in your heaving, plush tits and the swell of your juicy, caramel ass where your minidress has ridden up. Soon he’s exhaling puff after puff into your willing mouth, sliding his greedy tongue in after each one, every hit resulting in a deeper and sloppier kiss. You’re getting so into it, too, mind addled from the ridiculous amount of weed you’d done. It was making your panties all wet and sticky, you whined, completely disinhibited, as you started desperately grinding on Max’s muscular thighs.

He cooed at you to let him help then, baby, he knew just how to make you feel good. You nod frantically, wanting him to bring you some relief. He was sooo nice to take care of you like this! It’s hard to keep track of what’s going on through your hazy mind and smoke in the air, but you feel something hard and big rubbing against your soaked panties through Max’s jeans. His large hands have slid your dress up around your hips, palming your ass and controlling the pace as he drags your sensitive, swollen clit across his impressive erection. You toss your head back, high on the weed and pleasure Max is giving you, sweat gliding down your neck and dripping down your neckline. You cum like that, riding your orgasm out on his bulging thigh and collapse tiredly against him. You’re content to fall asleep, in his secure embrace that stabilises your body which feels it could collapse any second. But then you hear it - wet, sinful sounds and muffled moans rising up through the rhythmic music in the background.

You lift your head off Max’s broad shoulder, curiosity piqued, and he smiles at your interest. He turns your head as he guides you to look at the freaky couple in the other corner, where a guy has a girl on her knees as he practically fucks her face into the wall behind her. Your jaw drops in astonishment. Looks fun, doesn’t it baby? Max whispers teasingly in your ear. You swallow, panting and nod yes, yes it does, you’d never done that before…

He doesn’t hesitate to whisper a dirty offer by your ears. I’ll have teach you how, then. His ice blue eyes don’t miss the blush on your face as you lower your gaze, suddenly feeling embarrassed as your orgasm high starts to fade. He knows just how to make sure you come crawling back to him again. Or can the sweet McLaren strategist not handle him, hmm? One time was enough to make you tap out?

Predictably, you blush again but with anger, stumbling as you try to climb off him and furiously saying that you could easily keep up with him, you’ll happily prove it again at the next party! Chuckling at your cute indignation, he follows you out, catching your stumbling figure to help guide you into a taxi. There’s no way he’s letting anyone else take advantage of the sweet little treasure he’s discovered tonight. He slides into the backseat with you and drops you home, leaving you wanting more when he gently rubs soothing circles on your bare thighs but you’re prideful to ask for more out of the hazy, seductive room. Yet, you don’t stop thinking about the addictive feeling for days after, almost hoping he’d gotten out of the car with you and come upstairs instead of leaving.

So the next time your friends are heading out to town, mentioning that a bunch of the drivers are going to be there, you can’t wait to go. You make sure you’re dressed in another revealing outfit, makeup done to perfection, looking the very picture of sin as you walk onto the booming dancefloor in strappy heels. Max takes one look at you across the room and is instantly by your side, pulling you into him and well away from the interested stares of other men. He was going to be the only one to lay a hand on you tonight, after all.

He has you coming to the VIP lounge with him, telling you that it was time to up the stakes if you really wanted to prove you weren’t a boring homebody. You confidently accept this challenge, having gotten high with smoking a couple more joints recently, ready to prove Max wrong with your much improved technique. You had no idea that your rival has something very different in mind.

Pulling you down with a squeal onto his lap again, he plies you with a couple of drinks, just enough to make you relaxed and a bit tipsy. You give into the kisses he starts giving you, turning into a deep make out within seconds. You’re glad that you’re in a private booth around the corner, out of sight from the rest of the clubgoers. But still, if anyone came over to greet Max, it would be bad-

You suddenly feel Max’s skillful tongue slip an unfamiliar tablet into your mouth, giving you no choice but to swallow it as he forces himself deep down your throat to sloppily make out. When he finally releases you, you shove his chest angrily, telling him off for being such a sneaky asshole, but don’t move from the comfortable position you’re in, sitting across his lap.

After you demand to know what he’d given you, he shrugs casually, telling you to relax, it was just some molly. At your blank expression, he laughs and says Sorry, maybe someone as nerdy as you knows it as ecstasy? MD?

Your eyes widen as the realisation of just what he’d given you hits. You’re so nervous, never having done anything like that before, but it’s too late because it’s well on its way through your system now. Sensing your anxiety, Max soothes you, coaxing you to relax back against him, whispering that he’ll take really good care of you, the whole trip, I promise, okay baby?

His two faced promises work their magic and you let him glide his tongue into your soft mouth again, exploring it to his liking. Distracted, you barely notice the molly slowly starting to spread like wildfire through you - until it’s peaking, and you feel like you’re burning.

And soon enough you’re humping his lap with pupils the size of the moon, begging him have his way with you in the dark lounge. Whatever you want, baby he cooes at you with a smirk, pleased that you’d reacted to his little pill just as he’d predicted. Nothing beat getting high with you, the pretty, good girl who’d been fucking his wins over for the last 6 months. Now that he has you, he wasn’t going to stop till he ruins you completely.

He unties your slutty top easily, pulling at the string tying it up around your neck, letting it fall off your shoulders so he can get a delicious view of your bare bouncing tits. Fuck yes, all for me, pretty girl? he groans, letting his wicked tongue flick against your cute tanned nipples that had rapidly hardened in the air. You squeal in pleasure, burying your hands in his soft hair as he alternates between your juicy breasts, kissing and licking and biting on the tempting flesh right in front of him.

You swear you’d only closed your eyes for a second but somehow the next time you open them he has your miniskirt off too, and you’re left only in your delicate lace panties. You’re easily lifted and placed onto your back, sinking into the plush sofa as his now shirtless form climbs on top of you, thick arms caging in on either side of your head. You grind against him wantonly, the desire to feel him against you, inside you so much more intense than when you’d been on the weed. But you can barely verbalize your desire, feeling so blissed out all you do is open your drooling mouth and whine his name.

Shhh, I know baby, I know his deep voice rumbles, reassuring you. You’re not sure how exactly things progressed after that. You’re not sure how he went from grinding against you to his thick fingers slipping inside your pussy lips, scissoring you skilfully. You moan his name even louder, begging him for more, more!! and then he’s eating your hypersensitive cunny out. The slurping and dirty kisses he’s leaving down there has your head spinning even more than the molly does and you’re passing in and out of consciousness as you cum repeatedly on his fingers and tongue. The next time you blink your eyes open, you’re being carried out of the club in Max’s arms, redressed in your cute outfit, your heels in his hands.

You don’t remember much of what happened next. Something thick and hard is moving inside your mouth, pressing against the very back, wakes you out of your dazed sleep. You blink your eyes open, your mind trying to process just where you are. It takes a few minutes for you to orient yourself - and then you realize that you’re lying on your back, your whole body sinking into a plush mattress beneath you. Except for your neck, which dangles off the edge of the bed - at the perfect height for Max’s wide cock to slide in and out of your wet mouth, using your passed out body for his pleasure. Your muffled moans as you awake are drowned out by filthy, wet sounds when he noticed your eyes are open and speeds up his pace. His hands play with your large tits and squeeze your nipples meanly, before sliding down your soft tummy and then inside your pussy to finger you some more. He doesn’t stop thrusting roughly inside your already sore throat, bruising the back of it. You cum on his fingers, pussy fluttering and twitching on his digits, and he groans before tensing, emptying his thick load deep inside your mouth. His cum and spit dribble out to your pink lips when he pulls out. He grins wickedly at the sight of the once innocent strategist now looking like the top performer on OnlyFans. Except he’d kill anyone who tried to lay a hand on you now - he’s invested for too much to let anyone take the pretty girl that belongs to him.

And you’re such as eager for it as he is. Flashes of drug addled dreams come to you nightly, and you know you should be worried about the blanks in your memory, about the bruises his strong fingers had left behind but you can’t remember when. But instead you follow him around like a lost puppy, wanting his attention on you again. Your contract didn’t say anything about fucking the enemy, after all.

So the next time he has you lying on your back on his hotel floor, aftermaths of a celebration party littering it. But he’s kicked everyone out so that he can pull out a little baggie of white powder. Your eyes go wide with curiosity as you eagerly ask to try it, but he condescendingly tells you no, baby, this would be too much for a sweet girl like you. You puff up your cheeks cutely, but obediently follow his orders and reveal your top half for him, keeping your miniskirt on. He teasingly pours a straight line of white powder, right in between your plush caramel tits. Kissing up from your sensitive belly button, he keeps his eyes on yours as he snorts the line easily, picking up a tiny dab at the end on his finger and then rubbing it along your gums. You don’t even get a chance to react because his tongue is swirling around your brown nippled, making you arch into his talented mouth as he sucks and bites your sensitive areolas.

If the weed and molly had made you horny, the smidge of coke in your system has you transformed into a desperate slut, dripping and ready to be fucked. Max has you spreading yourself wide open for him, your pink wet pussy exposed for his pleasure without a hint of shyness in your cocaine addled brain. You’re dumbly begging him to fuck you down there, your virginity was all for him to take.

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. The world would go crazy if they knew this was how their beloved Redbull driver liked his girls - completely ruined, high out of their minds, and begging for him. But he knows that you wanted this just as much as he did. He sinks his rock hard shaft into your sweet folds, moaning as you eagerly take him all the way to the base. The coke has done wonders to relax your normally upright self, and he sets a mean pace right from the start, sickly enjoying the tears streaming down your face from the pleasure and bouncing of your tits which each powerful thrust.

You two fuck like bunnies, lost in the sinful pleasure of the highs from the white powder and orgasms mixing together. The cocaine in your system makes your stamina endless, ready for round after round. And considering Max’s already impressive energy levels given his status as a F1 driver, well….let’s just say that by the time he’s fully satisfied you’d passed out long ago, drooling into the sheets. Getting high always made his cum so much more, too, and your abused cunny takes several loads of his hot sticky seed inside its gummy walls, twitching around his length.

When Max finally pulls out, making your shared juices leak out of your overstuffed hole, he can’t resist taking a photo to tease you with later. He’s going to use it to bully you into taking the aphrodisiac he plans on slipping you at the next race weekend, after all. He leans down to deviously whisper in your ear, your sleeping figure oblivious to his mean words. Let’s see how well you strategise when all you’re thinking about is getting fucked by me, princess.

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A/N: ok realistically this obvi cannot happen for countless reasons INCLUDING the fact that max was like “yeah the FIA randomly banged on my motorhome at 7am and made me do a drug pee test 🙄” but a girl can dream right??

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #max verstappen x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #dark max verstappen #dark smut #enemies to lovers #18+ mdni

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maineventpapiuso · 6 months ago

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In case you missed it.

Zack Wentz is the new TNA X division champion.

#total nonstop action wrestling #tna #zack wentz #tna emergence #and new #x division champion #the rascals

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kage-gfx · 6 months ago

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AND NEW!

TNA X-Division Champion - Zachary Wentz

#zachary wentz #the rascalz #trey miguel #Desmond xavier #wes lee #tna wrestling #tna x division #x division champion #pro wrestling trading cards #pro wrestling #panini america #panini select

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didishawn · 3 months ago

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Leganés (Pedri x Reader)

warnings: lots of spanish, whatever last night was, angst because of the team's results, comfort, really short because I have to get back into the grind

Masterlist

"Te juro que me parece de coña ya esto" you watched as you boyfriend stomped around the room, face flushed and anger in his tone as he spoke. (I swear this feels like some sick joke)

Another loss for Barcelona, more dropped points, only 1 game won out of the last five, the perfect October run so far away.

They were in good shape in the Champions, but what did it matter when it felt as if they were throwing away La Liga?

"Y es que encima parece que siempre me toca a mí hablar tras toda la mierda de los partidos, ¿no me pueden dejar llegar tranquilo a casa para llorar?' (To add to it, it seems it's always my turn to speak after these shitty matches. Can't they just let me peacefully come home to cry?)

You hated seeing him like this, he loves Barça and it breaks him whenever things go like this.

He could have been the best on the pitch, yet he always blames himself.

"Si es que soy inútil, ni un gol puedo meter para ayudar al equipo, ¿de que mierda me sirven todos los pases si no puedo encarar a portería?" (I'm useless, can't even score a goal to help the team, what are all those shitty passes for if I can't serve when facing the goalie?)

"Pepi, sabes que no es tu culpa. Hay veces que no se da y no por eso tenemos que perder la fé, todavia queda mucha liga por delante" (Pepi, you know its not you fault. Sometimes things just don't go your way but it doesn't mean we have to lose faith. There is still so much of the league to look forward to)

"Joder pero si es que parecemos dos equipos completamente distintos aquí que en Champions" he sighed, dropping next to you in the couch, head resting on your shoulder "Encima verás Flick mañana, voy a llegar sin piernas a casa, encima nos lo merecemos" (Fuck but it's as if we were two completely different teams here than in Champions... You will see Flick tomorrow, I will be coming back home without legs, and it's worse because we actually deserve it)

"Solo os tocará dejar de confiaros tanto a veces, y dejad de veniros tan abajo, un gol no es el fin del mundo, y al final todos son capaces de remontar" (You all just have to stop being so overconfident, and also stop depressing yourselves, a goal it's not the end of the goal and in the end, everyone can do a comeback)

"Espero que sepas que me tendrás que hacer de portera en casa hasta que me veas metiendo 5 goles por partido" he burrowed his face on your neck, you knew that meant a topic change. (I hope you know you will have to play goalkeeper until you see me scoring 5 goals per game)

"Vamos a dejar a Robert sin trabajo" (We will leave Robert jobless)

You knew how hard it was all for him, he was finally coming back from all those injuries, was playing the best he had in almost years, and to see all his hard work not giving him the expected results, it was depressing him, harming him. You sometimes wished it could always be just you and him cuddling in your couch, no preoccupations to harm you.

You believed in your boyfriend, he only had to believe in himself too, because the problem with Pedri was just that.

Doesn't matter if he had the whole world praising him, if he lost, even if he was playing with a team in the seventh division of some lost country -not the case, you know the team just didn't have the night, Pedri would blame himself even if he scored 100 goals and they lost against 101.

You felt him sigh against your shoulder. His anger phage was over at least, grumpy one starting.

"...¿Querés jugar al FIFA tú como el Barça y yo como el Leganés y destrozarme?" (...You want to play FIFA you as Barça and me as Leganés and completely destroy me?)

"Si, por favor" (Yes, please)

#barca #fc barca #barcelona #pedri #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedri × reader #pedri gonzález x reader #pedri gonzalez #football imagine #spanish football

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chiasaaa · 1 month ago

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— mean it || part i

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: loving someone as cruel as itoshi sae has to be the worst thing that ever happened to a hopeless romantic like you. years of pining over your childhood crush finally comes to an end, or does it?

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— when itoshi sae left japan, he not only left his family and a broken promise with his little brother. no, he left a person that carved a huge hole in his heart when he did so. who would have known that japan's pride and joy had fallen for your charm? certainly not you, because you have been vocal about your interest to the auburn-haired boy since you were six, and he never bothered reciprocating your feelings. whenever you ask him how he feels about you, he never answers and would very much rather deadpan instead. his one true love is football, and there is nothing that will stop him from reaching his dreams. he will do whatever it takes to become the greatest; shifting his dream from being the world's greatest striker to the world's greatest midfielder is proof of that dedication. he didn't care what he has to do to get there. sae will continue playing football even after his legs break.

it was something you admired greatly about him. it was natural for both of you to become friends when you've met, given that you share the same interest. at some point, you both also shared the same dream of becoming the world's best striker.

it seems like only one of you has reached such doors of opportunity as you were finally scouted by re al madrid's women's division as a striker—a centre forward to be specific. you were seventeen when you were scouted, and through the one year you've worked with re al, you have never once caught a glimpse of itoshi sae. even so, you didn't mind. you were there for your dream, not to catch up to sae. it was one of the things that he came to admire about you.

since he was a kid, he had always known about your childish feelings for him. at first, he thought it was annoying and considered cutting you off if you prove to be a hindrance. he tried to see just how far you'll go for him—to please him. however, when he realized that you don't use your feelings as a reason to excuse his bad behavior, he couldn't help but feel gravitated towards you. it began to scare him, how you suddenly have control over his actions and plagued his thoughts, so he left.

it wasn't until your match against wc barcha that your paths have decided to reunite you two. the championship game for nationals is today, and the same stadium was used for both men's and women's games. right after sae took a shower and freshened up, their team captain informed them that they will be watching the women's match. though, it wasn't needed. the fact that it's the championship game and their team is in the game for the first time in five years was enough for the reigning champions of the men's division to watch.

that was how he ended up sitting with the rest of his team at the very front of the stadium, eyes wide by the slightest inch at the sight of you standing proud within the starting lineup as the match began its opening ceremony.

you have certainly changed. your previous long raven hair now had streaks of auburn in them and seemed longer than ever. contrary to how you used to tie your hair in french braids, you now tie it securely in a single high ponytail. you have grown taller, though he still towers over your figure. your clean nails that you religiously took care of now had gel polish in them.

and most importantly, the hideous neon pink cleats you used to play with are now replaced by a powder blue shade—your favorite. he would be lying if he said it didn't bother him, knowing fully well that those neon pink cleats were a gift from him, but he fooled himself to think that your shoe size simply changed over time and you can't use them anymore.

still, why did you have to change the color if you once said that neon pink reminds you of him?

throughout the entire match, his eyes remained on you. the fact that you're playing in a completely different level now made him feel like he never knew who you were at all. you have exceeded most strikers already, even within the male's division. playing against guys your entire life proved advantageous in the pro league because it certainly shows when you're put up with the rest of the lukewarm idiots. they all seemed like headless chickens compared to you.

you were graceful, yet destructive. that addictive yet terrifying feeling began to creep in from behind again, and it made him feel nauseous. you're one terrifying being, with that way you're able to win over people's hearts so effortlessly.

"and re al's shooting star delivered the decisive goal! for the first time in five years, re al has reclaimed the throne as spain's champions!"

having both teams win called for a big celebration for the entire re al team. it didn't help sae when you were invited as the opening speaker for the party. throughout your speech, his eyes never left your figure. a sense of pride welled in his chest now that he sees you holding three golden trophies you've most definitely earned. it was proof of your hard work. you were madrid's shooting star—the one person they needed to finally win and snatch the crown back to represent spain in the international league.

it wasn't until the end of your speech that your eyes have finally spotted sae in the crowd, your breathe caught up in your throat the moment you realized it was him. leonardo luna even had to assist you down the stage, mainly due to your long evening gown, for you to finally snap back into reality.

he is here.

quite funny how you first had to win nationals just for you to get a glimpse of him. now that he really is in the same room as you, you don't know how to react anymore.

should you hug him? wait, he might not even remember you. maybe a hello would do and not scare him away. what if he doesn't remember you, though?

you've been thinking about it too much at the balcony with a glass of wine twirling between your fingers that you failed to notice how you accidentally manifested said man by your side.

"finally decided to show up, huh?"

it took you by surprise, feeling his gentle breath against your ear as he spoke. you jumped back in slight surprise, and it was thanks to his quick reflexes that he avoided an unwanted accident by catching the glass you just dropped. he hands it back to you with a slight chuckle, finding it amusing that behind the new you is the same clumsy girl he once played football with.

"sae," you utter in disbelief. "f-funny seeing you here."

"huh? you know i play for re al."

"really? couldn't have known! haha..."

then, it was awkwardly silent. you quietly sipped on your drink as you actively avoided his gaze, finding interest in the pitch black emptiness they call the sky.

"i was waiting for you." he finally said, breaking the silence like shattered glass. "i knew you could do it."

"it took awhile," you slowly relaxed into the conversation until you're comfortable enough to start talking about your journey—how you always had him in your thoughts whenever you train. he painfully reminded you of your silly antics as a child crushing over him. how you promised to him that you'll one day go down on one knee at the centre of the football stadium to ask for his hand in marriage.

you couldn't help but feel hopeful now that he's mentioned all of it in one night, finding that maybe itoshi sae isn't completely against the idea of being yours. what else could it mean, right? he was the first to approach and congratulate you for reaching this milestone. he was the first to strike up a conversation for the both of you to finally catch up. he was the first to stir the storytelling to the silly romances you both shared before.

the feeling only intensified when he asked you to ditch the party with him and go someplace instead, hiding your adventures into the mystery of the night.

maybe, just maybe, itoshi sae wants you just as much as you've been wanting him all these years.

#sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #x reader #blue lock #bllk #angst fic #fluff #slow burn fanfic

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wrestlingmgc · 11 days ago

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TNA X Division Champion DJZ

#TNA #TNA X Division Champion #DJZ #DJ Zema #TNA X Division Championship #Total Nonstop Action #X Division Title #TNA Wrestling #X Division #Zema Ion #Joaquin Wilde #Backstage #Pro Wrestling #2010s #10s

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rosenclaws · 28 days ago

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Superstars || Pro Wrestler!Logan x Pro Wrestler!reader

Summary: It's your first day on XMN television since being called up to Evolution. With new friends and possible new rivals your career is filled with the unknown. Especially when it seems like one of the veteran superstars has his eyes on you.

Warnings: some description of wrestling violence.

a/n: OKAY SO. I decided to treat this universe as like sort of series? But it's not like a cohesive story just a lot of short stories in the same universe that can be read separately kind of. This is like the introduction thing though so I will be following up but it can still be read solo. ALSO, I'm gonna add some like wrestling terminology at the end of the fic in case you aren't familiar with certain slang but if that's annoying plz let me know. plz feel free to ask me any clarifying questions too! This is just me combining my two interests lmao.

This was it. Your debut on Evolution since being moved from Origins. You paced back and forth backstage as you rehearsed your lines over and over again. You were supposed to go and interrupt the current Woman's champion Storm. She's the babyface of the Woman's division and you're the egotistical heel.

She has been undefeated for a year now and you were her next challenger. You feel someone tap your shoulder and you turn to see Storm and Rogue.

"You ready?" Storm asks, the belt resting on her shoulder.

"I guess," You were already dressed up with hair and makeup but it didn't feel real yet. Evolution was XMN's main show. That's where the superstars were, the ones they saw as true star power.

"You're going to do great, promise I'll go easy on you." Storm teases. Despite her goddess character, she's nothing but sweet and down to earth.

"First promo on a new show, don't forget your lines sugar." Rogue jokes.

"I'll try." You say nervously. She notices the deep anxiety written all over your face and gently places her arms on your shoulders.

"You got this, take a deep breath and when you get out there take it all in because you're never going to forget it." Rogue says warmly.

The two of them are called by a production manager leaving you alone once again. The clock was ticking ever closer to your call time. As you head closer to where you need to be you're stopped once again but this time by two men you've never met but heard a lot about.

The Wolverine and Deadpool were XMN's top tag team. Somehow the two of them work. Logan or Wolverine was always going to be a star.

Founded on the indie circuit going by just Logan at the time he was big, brooding, and strong. But his mic work was lacking as he wasn't a big talker. Still his raw talent and clear wrestler figure made it a no brainer to sign the man. That's where he met Wade Wilson. Or Deadpool.

He was a comedy character with a big mouth and the ability to get the crowd wrapped around his finger. He was vulgar and unserious as hell but people loved him. So imagine the shock when the two of them became a tag team. It was strange at first, I mean the two were nothing alike but for some reason the fans gravitated to them. The buddy cop duo charmed their way into viewers hearts.

It made sense, Wade was funny but he never quite reached the status to win any gold. Logan had the chance to win gold but fans hadn't really seemed to connect with him as a possible champion. Put them together and you had an odd couple tag team that people just wanted to root for. Wade did the talking while Logan was the muscle. But the banter the two of them electric.

Not to mention the chemistry in their wrestling, pulling off tag team moves flawlessly. Now they're the world tag team champions. And they're standing right in front of you. You were a massive fan of them and had been before you even joined XMN.

"Logan look! A new ducky has joined the pond." Wade pulled you into a hug immediately.

"Oh, uh hi!" You say as you hug him back.

"Get off her idiot." Logan says with a roll of his eyes.

Man Logan was even hotter in person. They had a match tonight and you just thank whoever decided he should wear those low rise trunks. Everything is on display for sure.

"Hi, I'm a huge fan of both of you." You say excitedly.

"Of course you are, who isn't a fan of us." Wade says jokingly.

"Shut up." Logan says before turning to you.

"Thanks sweetheart. Glad to see you here." You notice his eyes scanning you up and down and you silently thank yourself for wearing your good shorts.

"I've seen you on Origins, you're amazing!" Wade compliments and you thank him.

"You really think so? I'm really nervous about tonight." You say shyly. You've done this before but for some reason tonight just felt different.

"Look, you've got no reason to be nervous sweetheart. You got the look, the talent, the athleticism. Everything. Plus a pretty face never hurts." Logan says with a smirk.

You feel your stomach erupt with butterflies at his compliment. Logan isn't the guy to say something he doesn't mean. In fact it's a shock he's even talking to you. You were warned before about how little he talks and to not take it personally. But here he is smiling and giving you advice.

"Thank you, it means a lot coming from you." You say with a smile.

"Good luck tonight by the way, I'm kind of surprised you aren't main eventing. I mean everyone loves you guys." Logan just shrugs and throws the belt over his shoulder.

"I don't mind too much, we'll get the crowd going for you." He says with a wink. Wade eyes the two of you suspiciously, head turning back and forth.

"Oh my god you are so-" Logan slaps his hand over Wade's mouth before he can say anything else.

"We have to go, see you around real soon sweetheart." Logan drags Wade away towards the main stage.

"So rude!" Wade huffs as he shoves Logan's hand off his mouth. Your eyes drift down as they walk away, shamelessly watching Logan's ass.

Despite only talking to him for a couple minutes he's managed to calm all your nerves.

You watch Logan and Wade's match from gorilla. You can't tear your eyes from the screen as Logan clotheslines . He lets out a roar and the crowd cheers. The intensity in his eyes send shivers down your spine. But fuck does he look good.

His massive arms are on full display as he lifts Beast over his head and slams him onto his knee. He turns his back to the camera and you get to see those muscles in all their fucking glory.

"Careful, you might catch flies." You turn to see Jean standing next to you. She's smiling but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Oh I wasn't...I was just watching-"

"It's okay, he's a handsome man. Trust me I know." She hums.

You laugh nervously but there's a strange air between the two of you. Jean was the top star. She may not hold a belt but she was a massive draw and everyone knew it.

"If I can offer you a word of advice, I'd stay away from him if I were you. A lot of history there." She flashes a smile and leaves.

You start to fiddle with your sleeve as you let Jeans words sink in. Looking at Logan doesn't mean anything. He's handsome anyone could see that. That's all it is. You don't think about him that way, at least you don't think you do. You barely know the guy. Storm notices your mini spiral and comes over to snap you out of it.

"Don't let her get to you," Storm says.

"Whatever she said, just block it out." You nod and try and push that away. This is your moment and you got this. This is no different than being on Origins. You know how to do this, you're good at this. The bell rings and Logan and Wade stand victorious.

As they walk back into gorilla you clap along with everyone else. Logan runs his fingers through his hair, his once perfectly styled tuffs are now flattened from sweat. His whole body is sweaty and fuck is it hot.

"Nice match Logan," Storm hums.

"Thanks 'Ro. By the way, be nice tonight alright, It's her first day." He says gesturing towards you. Storm raises an eyebrow at his request.

"She's not brand new Logan, just new to this show."

"I know. Just saying she might be nervous is all." Storm smirks. Logan has never cared this much about a new superstar before.

Interesting.

"Logan! That match was amazing." You praise. You move to hug him but stop yourself. Feeling a pair of eyes drilling themselves in the back of your head.

"Thanks sweetheart, I had hoped you were watching." Storms music hits and you watch her walk out to the crowd. The nerves coming back in full force as you realize it was almost time to go out there.

"Hey, stop that." Logan nudges your shoulder and you sigh.

"I don't know why I'm so nervous. I've been doing this for years but this just feels so much bigger." You say.

"Look Chuck wouldn't have brought you here if he didn't think you were ready. I've followed your career since you joined this place. Like I said earlier you have everything it takes. So don't let some nerves get in your way got it?" Your eyes widen at his words.

He's really watched you all this time? Logan is a star and you've just got called up from developmental. It's like a surge of confidence. He's right. You can do this.

"Thank you Logan." You take a few deep breaths and wait by the curtain. In and out.

You focus on what you have to say and wait. A calmness washes over your mind and body as your music hits. Like a switch is flipped inside of you. You grab the mic and walk out that curtain, ready to show the world what you had.

The whole segment went flawlessly. You interrupt Storm, pushing yourself as the soon to be new woman's champion. You feel right at home as exchanged a war of words with her. Everything ending in a brawl that leaves Storm on the mat with you standing above her. Holding the belt and pointing right at the camera.

The fans fell right into your hand. Booing your shameless attack on their champ. You try and hide your smile as you walk out. The fans love you, they want this match and you couldn't be happier. The moment you step back through the curtain you let yourself breathe. Jumping in happiness.

"You did great sugar! It was electrifyin'" Rogue says while pulling you into a hug.

A few other people congratulate and welcome you to the show. After a small debrief about next week you're free to go. Walking through the halls of the arena you can barely contain your excitement for next week. As you change back into normal clothes you find a familiar face waiting outside of the locker room.

"Logan, I thought you would have gone back to the hotel by now." You say, slightly shocked he's still her. He's leaning against the wall with his backpack. Dressed in a very cozy looking gray sweater.

"Decided to stick around to watch. I told you you'd kill it." He joins you as you walk to the exit.

"Well I had to make sure we were worth following your match." You tease. The conversation flows easy as he walks you to the car waiting to take you both back. Luckily the lobby is practically empty by the time you're dropped off with no one joining you in the elevator.

"Hey, I'm going to train tomorrow if you want to join me. I could show you a few things. See what you've got too." Logan offers.

"Yes!" You blurt out. The chance to train with Logan, you'd be a fool to pass that up.

"I mean, yes that would be great." You try and cover any embarrassment by staring at the ground, wishing it would swallow you up. Logan chuckles leans against his hotel door.

"Okay, it's a date then. See you tomorrow sweetheart." He scans his keycard and goes into his room, leaving you standing there in shock.

A warm fuzzy feeling growing in your stomach as you repeat his words in your head. Date. You hear someone clear their throat and you turn to see Jean watching with an unimpressed look on her face.

You duck your head and hurry to your room. Getting in as fast as you can. You throw your bag on the table and fall onto the hotel bed. Today was not like anything you were expecting. Debuting on a new show, meeting Logan, Jean, setting up a championship feud. It's a lot in one day but you couldn't be happier. This was everything you had dreamed of since you decided to become a wrestler and now it was coming true.

Who knows what's going to happen next.

Gorilla - backstage area where the show is run and the area right before the entrance curtain

Promo - promotional interview, a dialogue or monologue used to advance a storyline.

Babyface/Face - The "Good guy", "Hero" character. Wants to be cheered by fans

Heel - "The bad guy" or "Villian" that is meant to be boo'd by fans

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wrestler!logan howlett #wrestler!logan howlett x reader

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wallofchynax · 12 days ago

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THE WORST POSSIBLE TIME (ONESHOT)

Synopsis: You're being interviewed about your match at the upcoming Summerslam. You are trying to be professional about it despite your 'friend' (hint; he's very much more than your friend) Shawn having other plans with you under the table.

Ships: 90s!Shawn Michaels x Reader

Authors note: this is very much inspired by that rumor of Shawn fingering Sunny during a interview (you can find it on youtube if you are curious). This is just a small dablet because I cannot update any of my other stories till next week so I wanted to put something up in the meantime hehe.

You're sitting in a chair under the blinding studio lights, sitting across the interviewer, Mean Gene. The backdrop is plastered with advertisments and the upcoming Summerslan. You could hear the crowd roaring outsitde of the studio. This was the night before Summerslam after all. You were excited; a chance to go against the current woman's champion and get the belt.

This should have been a good interview. This should have set you up well for tomorrow night. Unfortunately, you were shifting in your chair, trying to remain composure but it was difficult.

He insisted he stood would be next to you. After all, you both were in a storyline together and were adored by the crowd. You always told people that you and him were best friends. However, Shawn Michaels, he had no sense of professionalism. You both told everyone you were nothing more than best friends. And to an extent, that was true, you were best friends.

But best friends shouldn't be making it this hard for you to focus.

You didn't know if it was the substances that were probably in his system or the overconfidence that he often showed when in front of the camera. Anyway, you can see him at the corner of your eye with that lazy smirk on his lips and an arm slung casually behind your seat as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

You, on the other hand, were trying to talk about your big match. Your moment at a title shot. However, you knew that Shawn was up to no good. Because when his arm that was slung around your chair was removed, you knew you he was scheming something. Despite the fact that this interview should have been about your determination and your preparation, the hours of training that you had put into this point His arm moving should have been the first sign of trouble.

Mean Gene, ever the professional, nodded as you spoke, tilting the microphone in your direction.

"This match is everything to me, Gene. I worked my ass off for the shot, and tomorrow night, I-"

Your breath hitched.

In that moment, Shawn's hand found your thigh out of sight from the camera.

You cleared your throat, shifting slightly in your chair, "-and I...I plan on giving the performance of a lifetime..."

The corners of Shawn's lips twtiched. He knew. He knew damn well that you couldn't react to what he was doing. You had to sit there and talk about your title shot like nothing was going on. Like his hands weren't trailing under the hem of your shorts.

Your fingers clenched into fists in your lap.

You couldn't look at him.

Gene raised an eyebrow, "Are you alright?"

You opened your mouth as if you wanted to speak. However, Shawn ended up speaking for you as he leaned forward. You could feel his hand under your shorts, stroking the front of your underwear. You already knew that your panties were going to be soaked.

"She's great, she's just dealing with a little bit of pre-match excitement, you know. All that adrenaline, all that passion - it just gets a little overwhelming sometimes,"

You turned your head, only just slightly, enough for your eyes to meet his. The warning glare that you gave him was completely ignored. If anything, he just winked at you in response.

And then he started rubbing circles on your clit through your panties.

Gene, bless him, was just trying to get you to talk about your strategy, the level of competition and the current woman's division. And you tried, you tried so hard to give him answers that the fans would like but everytime you spoke, Shawn's fingers were slow, teasing and deliberate.

He was enjoying this.

You were going to murder him after this.

"But tomorrow, when I step into that ring, I know I will have everything to prove, but I-"

And that's when you felt it. His fingers moved from your clit and were now teasing at your entrance. You nearly slapped the table when he suddenly pushed two fingers inside.

"-I won't be distracted," You nearly squeaked out, forcing yourself not to react to the way Shawn's hand moved.

Gene gave you another look and then a cough, "Are you...sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine!" You said, almost too defensivelly

You inhaled sharply, exhaled through your nose, and forced your voice into something steady.

“I’ve been training non-stop for this, Gene. I know what’s at stake. I know my opponent is one of the best to ever hold that belt,” you said, keeping your gaze fixed on the interviewer, not the smirking devil sitting beside you.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up when Shawn chuckled next to you, leaning in a little, "My girl here is just incredibly excited about her match tomorrow, aren't you?"

You hated him. You were ready to murder him after this. Your patience was slipping, your nails digging into your palm to keep yourself from reacting.

“But I’m not walking into that ring to hope for a win—I’m walking in to take that title for myself.”

Shawn's hand lifted, just for a second. You felt relief wash over you but it was quickly met with a third finger being inserted.

You turned to him, flush faced and not even bothering to hide your annoyance.

"Do you mind?"

Shawn grinned like the devil himself.

"Not at all,"

Your glare could have killed him.

Gene cleared his throat, "Well, you certainly seem fired up for the match. Any final words for your opponent?"

Final statment. It was the moment to prove her determination. Get it together.

You turned towards the camera, eyes burning with conviction.

"I hope you're watching," you said, voice steady, now despite everything, "Because tomorrow night, when I step into the ring, I'm not just bringing a fight, I'm bringing a war,"

Shawn chose that exact moment to brush the pads of his fingers into your sweet spot.

You nearly jerked. You nearly elbowed him.

Gene smiled, clearly satisfied with your response, "Well, there you have it folks. Tomorrow night, Summerslam. Will we see a new Women's Champion crowned? We will soon find out soon enough!"

The camera's flickered off. The second it did, Shawn removed his fingers from your cunt. When he did, you turned your head and glared at him like your eyes could turn holes into his soul.

He just grinned.

"Do you think you're funny?" you hissed.

Shawn stretched in his chair, completely unbothered, "I know I am,"

Your fingers twitched. You were seconds away from smacking that smug look off his face.

Instead, you stood abruptly, shoving your chair back, "You better pray I don't get my hands on you before tomorrow night,"

Shawn leaned back like you were threatening him with a good time, "Oh princess, I know how much you like a pre-match stretch,"

You stormed off, head rising to your face but not before you heard him laughing behind you.

He was going to pay for that.

Tomorrow night.

#wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwf #wwf fanfiction #90s wrestling #90s wrestling fanfiction #shawn michaels x oc #wwe imagine #wwe x oc #wwe x reader #shawn michaels #hbk #shawn michaels x reader

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