HEADLOCK
Shane x FEM!Reader Imagine
One Shot.
Basically, if during ep 4, Rose Landry did not meet Shane, and it was you instead, because I literally need that man bent over.
WARNINGS: 🔞 Explicit sexual context, pegging, female domination, strong language, some attempt at D/s dynamics.
A/N: alright this is my first work on here so please be gentle with me. I literally needed to get this out of my brain so bad, and I couldn't find any pegging fics, which I needed to rectify immediately, so... that's how we got here. This is fictional, please keep that in mind. I know he’s canonically gay. fan. fiction. let me know if i need to tag something or add any more warnings. anyways hope y'all like.
_
Rose had invited you to this restaurant with her co-stars and some other friends in the entertainment industry. Producing the soundtrack for the movie helped a lot with getting closer to Rose Landry in general. Not that you had much overlap in your respective job avenues, but you ended up crossing paths, and your personalities just clicked.
You think she's somewhere chatting it up with one of her other co-stars, you'd already vented to her about the shitty block you were going through trying to make your new album, and in turn, you let her rant to you about her indignation at being cast in the same archetype for the 3rd time in a row.
After your mutual vent session, the anger had worked up an appetite in you, and you let her go off to be an extrovert in another corner of the restaurant. You sit in a booth and wave down a passing server to put in an order.
When your meal arrives, you dig into the plate of hot, steaming Parmesan- and garlic-coated carbs and groan in delight.
"Fuck, this shit is so good."
You're about a quarter through the plate when someone sits in the booth seat across from you, turned away to face the wall.
You clear your throat, grabbing the stranger's attention, "If you want me to share my fries, you might have to fight me for it; they're amazing."
When the stranger turns around to face you, you realize it's Shane Hollander sitting across from you. You push the plate to the middle of the table, and wipe your hand off on the napkin next to you.
"You're Shane Hollander, right?" You stick out your hand to shake his, introducing yourself. He nods at you with a shy smile, slowly making its way on his face, reaching out to shake your hand.
"Yeah! I know who you are. I loved your work on the soundtrack for the movie."
You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, warming them up. You try not to get flustered; it feels good to know that Shane fucking Hollander likes the music you make, albeit a soundtrack for an X-Squad movie, but you'll take what you can get.
You continue the conversation, chatting about how your older cousins were a big fan of some hockey team in the area you couldn't quite remember. He's generally a little awkward, but if you're being completely honest with yourself, you find that hot. Slowly throughout the conversation, he gets more comfortable, tension seeping from his shoulders, and less hesitance to say immediately what's on his mind.
Mid-conversation, and you genuinely can't take it anymore, you need this man in your bed biblically.
You continue to converse, sprinkling in some hints of attraction, a "You're so cute," here and a flirty laugh there. You're genuinely being so obvious. Biting the bullet, eventually you plainly ask, "So do you want to come back to my place?"
⭐︎
You stumble through the doorway of your apartment, kicking the door shut behind you. You turn around with a coy smile on your face, you lightly push Shane against the door, leaning in to connect your lips. You take his plush bottom lip, sucking it into your mouth, pushing into the slight cut on his lip from where he tends to worry away at it with his teeth.
Shane's body goes almost slack against the door as you grab his jaw, kissing his mouth further. Your tongue exploring his warm mouth, on his tongue the taste of the fries you had shared earlier. Separating your lips from his, you work your way down to his neck.
You tug yourself away to grab his hand and lead him further into your apartment towards your bedroom. Entering, you notice him standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. An amused smile makes its way onto your face.
"You can sit, I don't bite unless you'd want me to."
As he sits down on the bed, you make your way over, straddling his lap, finger tilting his chin to focus on your face. "Is this okay?"
He looks a little nervous, so you're getting a little concerned. Maybe you were moving too fast, pushing too much too soon.
He nods, swallowing quickly. "It's uh more than okay."
You continue your previous mission of tonguing this pretty hockey player down. Grinding down onto his lap, you take your hands to run through his hair, connecting your mouths once again.
Trailing your lips to the side of his face. You take his earlobe into your teeth, tugging slightly as you travel to his neck. You hear his breathy moans all the while, which only increases how fucking horny and feral you feel right now.
You push him back on the bed, scooting down to be faced with his slacks, covering the prize you really wanted to unbox. Gazing up at him, you see him watching you, panting, chest stuttering unevenly.
"Can I suck your dick?" you ask, hands lightly resting on his muscular thighs, you see them tense.
He nods slightly, then gently but firmly moves you off him, pauses, and removes his shirt first, folding it before placing it on the nightstand. Following the same routine for his pants.
You huff a soft laugh, cute. Patting the space beside you, you scooch over to make room for him. Once he lies down, you kiss your way down his stomach to his slight happy trail.
Pulling down his boxers, his cock slaps against his stomach. You waste no time taking your tongue and trailing a vein from the base to a spot not quite near the tip. His head drops back onto the bed, where he lets out a moan.
You take the tip into your mouth and sink further onto his length, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head slowly, finding your rhythm. Sinking further down, he almost touches the back of your throat, not wanting to choke you, bob back up, and wrap your hand to jerk whatever your mouth can't fit.
You know you're doing something right because now the moans are significantly louder, a mix of breathy sighs and choked-out whimpers.
Feeling his thighs trembling, you stop, "Are you close?"
With a stuttered breath, "I'm- yeah, I'm close." You stop. You didn't want this night to end quickly; you had plans. Drawing back on your knees, you sit up.
"Can I ask you something, probably a little out of left field?"
He sits up with a concerned look on his face. "Is- something wrong?"
Letting out a nervous breath, "I really want to peg you? Is that something you'd even be interested in? Totally understand if that's something you're not comfortable with or not your vibe."
Shane takes a momentary pause, a look of contemplation and surprise passing over his face.
"I- yeah… okay."
A smile makes its way across your face. "Great! Okay, cool, um- sit tight, I need to get some stuff."
"Don't worry, either, I'll save the Lykos dildo for another day." You laugh lightly, a little high off the possibility of the impending events.
After rummaging around in your closet, you emerge with a line of condoms, a half-empty bottle of lube, and a purple strap already secured to your body with a harness.
When your eyes finally rest on Shane, he's resting on his elbows, sitting up to look at you, panting, in anticipation.
Smiling encouragingly, you kneel on the bed positioning yourself to where you're between his muscular thighs. Giving in to the impulse in your brain, you press your lips to the skin on the inside of his thigh. Sucking at the flesh till you're sure, at least for the next couple of days, there'll be a reminder of this moment.
Getting a little impatient, you quickly get to prepping him. Usually, you'd take the time to slowly take your time to hear him whimper and slowly fall apart on your fingers, but you don't quite have the patience for that right now; you're desperate to bury your favorite toy in this man.
Squeezing a generous amount of lube into your hand, you work his hole open, pushing in a singular finger. Once he goes pliant, you work your way up, adding a finger each time you feel some give, till you're at three. Panting, you withdraw your fingers. Good enough.
You're going to pound this 175-pound mass of muscle into the mattress, and you're going to enjoy every second of it.
Grabbing for the condoms, you tear a wrapper open and roll it over the strap.
"What position do you want to do this?" you say breathlessly, you look over his flushed body as he pants, eyes gazing back up at you. Wordlessly, he turns himself over.
You feel yourself literally throb from the image he makes, the tiger stripes on his side, as you take in the divots in the lower portion of his back.
Taking the strap into your hand, you guide it into his hole, listening as he muffles a low moan into the pillow. Digging your fingers into his waist, you snap your hips, starting up a steady rhythm. Adjusting your thrusts, you start to angle your hips, searching for that special spot. Eventually, you find it, and Shane's loud moans are quite a good indication of the exact moment.
"Fuck," Shane groans into the mattress, his hands grabbing at the sheets. You slow down to press kisses between his shoulder blades, tasting the salt of the sweat dotting his back.
Shane picks his head up from where it was previously pressed into the pillow, "Could you -"
Before he can finish his thought, you thrust again, leaning down to breathe against his ear, "Can I what, baby?"
"Move faster, for fucks sake," He manages to whimper out. You throw your head back to laugh. Who are you to deny such an earnest request?
Shifting your legs to get better leverage, you pick up the pace, slamming your hips into his ass. His moans get almost comically loud. In the back of your mind, you note to yourself to leave a little later tomorrow morning so you don't encounter your neighbors after the sounds you're subjecting them to right now.
A few more thrusts in, and Shane makes a large keening noise before his whole body starts to tremble. "I'm close, fuck keep going."
You snap your hips once, twice, sending Shane into his full-body orgasm. His thighs shake and tremble, and he slumps into the bed like a puppet whose strings have been cut. You slowly pull out, careful not to jostle him, and unsnap the harness, tossing it somewhere in the room.
You flop onto the bed next to him, take your fingers, and start to circle your clit with quick efficiency. It takes no time at all to bring yourself to the brink. Fire pooling in your abdomen, you toss yourself over that brink and cum all over your fingers, wetness coating your thighs and the sheets.
With a satisfied sigh, you turn your head to look over at Shane, whose own breathing had slowed and was watching you in turn. He blinks twice, a slight frown on his face. "I could've helped you."
You laugh lightly, "Nah, it's okay. This was about you, I liked it." Pausing, you slowly ask, "Did you?"
"Sure!" He nods quickly. You look at him an eyebrow raised. "Sure…"
"I mean- Yes, of course." He looks away, now sitting up, gathering his clothes.
Startled, you watch him. "Hey, I didn't mean to like chase you off. You don't have to go now; you can stay the night and leave in the morning."
Clothes now on and slightly out of breath. He looks at you and around the room. "I'm sorry, I can't do this".
Worried, you grab his arm, "Hey. It's okay, breathe." Gently, you guide him to sit down at the edge of the bed. Rubbing his back, you try to put on a soothing tone. You're not really that great at comforting people, but the looks on Shane's face makes you want to try.
"You can talk to me, I promise. Did you not like it? Did I make you uncomfortable in any way?"
"No. No, you didn't do anything wrong." Shaking his head. A beat of silence.
"I think- I think m'gay," he murmurs softly. You look at his face, trying to think about everything you know about hockey, if there are any out players you know of, nothing comes to mind.
"And there's nothing wrong with that." You state firmly, still rubbing his back, feeling he probably needs the touch to stay anchored. "Have you told anyone this before?"
Shaking his head, he looks at you.
"Okay. That's okay, too." You look at him, and this time you really take him in. His breathing now not as rapid as it was previously, is stilted his eyes have gathered tears in them, and he's looking back down at his hands, which are limp in his lap.
He looks lonely.
Carefully, you reach your hand out, palm up. An offer.
A brief pause. And he takes it. You clasp your hands together, and inside you feel a resolve building. You're going to make this man your friend, because he clearly needs it.
Nodding, you look at him. Smiling, you let out a laugh. "That's okay, can't get mad at you when I'm bi, I won't tell anyone. Something about me attracts all the gay men; you're not the first guy I've been in this scenario with."
Shane looks at you with a slight furrow in his brow, eyes searching for any sign of disingenuousness. Finding none, a smile, a tiny one, flicks on the edge of his mouth. "Just how many guys has this exactly happened to you with?"
Taking the offer of some levity to the very serious scenario, you prattle on about your escapades of failed hookups or situationships, where the guys left you for another guy or sometimes girl. He's a good listener, or maybe you're just that good a storyteller; either way, eventually he lets you know he has a meeting for some sports brand sponsorship you're vaguely aware is probably super popular, but you're not knowledgeable enough in that area to care. But you get the point, he has to go.
Which is well and dandy, but you made a resolution to yourself. Before he can walk out the door, you make sure to grab his number, add him, and shoot off a quick text so he has yours to save as well.
You: we're going to be great friends i can tell
You: [GIF]
You: XD :D ;)
⭐︎
He doesn't respond till the next day, you're in the middle of going over the concept sheet for a movie, your label wants you to write a couple of songs based on what's being given, and you're honestly two minutes away from just going home to rot in your bed instead, when you hear three distinct pings from your phone.
You: we're going to be great friends i can tell
You: [GIF]
You: XD :D ;)
Shane: Do you text like this all the time?
Shane liked "XD :D ;)"
Shane liked "we're going to be great friends i can tell"
The last notification catches your eye quickly. You open up another tab you wonder when the next hockey game in town is. You feel like you should probably brush up on some terminology.
