#boxer!luke

[too-deviant]

i am thinking so many thoughts

[kafkasmuses]

Gurl, but boxer! Luke, except that he's doing that stuff that most boys do where they pretend to throw punches at you but stop them before they can really hit you (idk if I'm making myself clear)

But you're already used to it, so you're standing like 🧍‍♀️😑 while waiting for him to stop but he looks cute

this is so real to me omg.. not only is he constantly flexing in front of you, he just loves to pester you with those fake punches and sharp noises as he throws them, like he’s in some form of video game. any time you’re standing still, he finds a way to just run up and start doing it, but it’s mostly on the days where he has a match. 

he passes it off as “getting prepared,” but honestly, he just likes to see how annoyed you get with him. sometimes you push his head away, call him annoying, or you just glare at him and he immediately stops, straightening up with a, “yes, ma’am.” 

but at the same time u don’t really want him to stop because seeing his muscles flex.. his veins pumping.. the way his tongue pokes out as he focuses.. the way hes so cocky bc he knows hes a good fighter.. LORD.

[valentiyne]

THE VISUALS OF MIDNIGHT 🌙

link here

boxer! luke hemmings au

enemies to lovers trope

"You'd think after all the countless matches and fucking broken bones, I wouldn't find a fight I couldn't win-" He rages, dark eyes stare down at mine and I can feel the air around us grow thick with tension,

"And yet somehow I found you"

[tinyluvs]

and if i start writing for luke hemmings? what then

[24kmar]

𝐁𝐨𝐱𝐞𝐫! 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧

inspired by this fic by @too-deviant

[mrskywalkers-chanelboots]

YALL I JUST FINISHED READING THE CUTEST DINLUKE FIC CALLED “MORNINGS OF GOLD, VALENTINE EVENINGS” BY LEORIZANZEL IT WAS PUBLISHED LIKE TWO YEARS AGO IF YOU HAVENT READ IT YET READ IT IF YOUVE ALREADY READ IT READ IT AGAIN I 👏 LOVE 👏 FIGURE SKATING 👏 HOCKEY 👏 AUS 👏 AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES AND ITS THE WINTER OLYMPICS SO FUCKING CUTEEEE

[fyeaheddiemunson]

[hotboxerdude]

[too-deviant]

BOXER!LUKE SAVE ME

[kafkasmuses]

as a girl who does martial arts (i’m a blue belt) I WOULD DIE TO SPAR/PRACTICE/WORK OUT BOXER LUKE i’d definitely get distracted tho cuz he’s so FINE we’d end up making out on the mat🥲

him pushing u to the mat and just towering over u with that stupid cocky know it all grin… mhmmm mhmmmm

[valentiyne]

MIDNIGHT ❀ MASTERLIST

-boxer!luke hemmings

-enemies to lovers

MIDNIGHT TRAILER *start here*

PROLOGUE - THE BEGINNING

AUTHOR'S NOTE - INTRO

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

[peachespearsandplumbs]

Luke Rockhold

[innytoes]

Chaos prompt 26 +peterpatterlina?

It wasn't even that he'd set out to get a cat. Reggie was really more of a dog person. But his building didn't allow dogs, and when he saw this scraggly, sad lump of wet fur in the alley on a cold, rainy day, he didn't even think twice about bundling it up and bringing it inside.

Rover wasn't a dog, but he did love playing fetch and walking on the leash. You made a lot of friends while out walking your cat, and pretty much everyone in the neighbourhood knew Rover.

Which was why it was so embarrassing when Rover started sneaking out and returning with treasures. The first one was pretty easy to track down, given that it was a whole sandwich from the sandwich shop down the street. Reggie put Rover in his little kitty transport backpack, bundled up the sandwich, and went to go apologise and pay for what he'd stolen.

Given that the owner sent him home with some extra chicken to feed the cat, Reggie didn't think they were too angry.

The next one was a rubber dish glove. After that, a lone child’s sock. Some kid’s drawing, and oh man did Reggie feel guilty about that one. He put it up in his window with a poster of Rover next to it saying: MY CAT STOLE YOUR DRAWING I’M SORRY ALSO IT’S VERY GOOD. Turned out little Keisha from down the street was more than happy to share her drawings with Rover, and he even got one of his cat in his mail box with a note from Keisha’s mom.

The little line of stolen items on a string in front of his window grew and became a feature in the neighbourhood, kind of like the Little Free Library down the street, but for cat theft. Rover liked to sit underneath his sign (Hi, My Name Is Rover The Cat, These Are The Items I Have Stolen, Please Take Them Back If They’re Yours. I’m Not Sorry But My Owner Is!) and purr smugly, demanding pats from anyone who came to see what was on the line today.

Then, the underwear started coming in. A pair of blue boxers with little guitars on it at first. People thought that one was incredibly funny, but nobody took it. Until one morning they were missing from the line. Maybe guitar-boxer-guy waited until nightfall to sneak them off.

Yes, Reggie did groan when the exact same pair of boxers ended up in Rover’s cat tree a week later. Shamefaced, he hung them up again.

Then, it was a bralette. Reggie felt weird hanging those on the line, so instead he wrote REALLY NICE PURPLE LACY BRA (it’s inside I’m so so sorry) on a piece of paper and laminated it. People got a good laugh out of that one, and on one of their daily walks, his cat got more than a few catcalls about his new hobby.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but late one evening when he was fooling around with his banjo, singing a little stupid song to Rover about his whiskers being so long, there was a knock at the door. When he looked through the peephole, there was a couple standing there. The guy was ripped, his arms on full display. He was also clutching the guitar boxers in his hands.

Oh. Oh nooo.

“If I get beat up because of you, you’re not getting any wet food for a month,” he told Rover, before opening his door to face the music.

“Hi,” the girl said. “Sorry to knock so late, but we saw the light was still on? We both work late, so...”

She was beautiful, dressed in a tight dress and some killer purple sneakers with drawings all over them. Oh no. What if purple was her favourite colour? What if they were here to pick up a certain purple lacy bra. He was so dead.

“It’s no problem,” he said nervously. “I’m so sorry about my cat,” he told Muscle Guy. “I think he just likes guitars.” Maybe a joke would keep him from getting his face rearranged.

“Well, me too,” Muscles said, grinning. He was very handsome when he wasn’t frowning. Then his face lit up, crouching down. “Is this the little thief? Hi buddy!” Rover wove his way past Reggie’s ankles, sniffing the guy’s fingers when he offered them. He allowed himself to be pat, before darting forward and grabbing the boxers the guy had in his other hand and pulling. The guy let them go, and Rover happily trotted to his cat tree, pulling the boxers inside one of the cubbies.

“Rover, no,” Reggie moaned, face heating up.

“Maybe you should just let him keep them, babe,” the girl said, laughing as the guy stood up. She had a really pretty laugh.

“They’re my lucky boxers, Jules!” the guy whined.

“I’m so sorry,” Reggie said. “Please, come in, I just... I’ll get them back for you.” He grabbed the cat treats and went about the business of luring Rover off the boxers. He didn’t want to start a tug of war and ruin them. “Come on, buddy, give the nice fella his boxers back. You don’t need luck, you’re a cat. You have everything you could ever want right here.”

He tried to ignore the laughing behind him, finally managing to negotiate with his little furry terrorist and getting the boxers back. “Again, I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” the woman said. “I’m Julie. This is Luke. I also believe you might have something that belongs to me?” She held up the laminated paper, and he flushed. Don’t think about Julie in the bra, don’t do it, don’t...

“Oh, yeah, lemme just...” He went to grab the stepstool, taking down the box from the top of his kitchen cabinet. At the look the other two gave him, he shrugged. “It’s the only place in the house he can’t get to.” He awkwardly shoved the box at Julie, not wanting to handle her delicates.

“Thanks,” Julie said, smiling. “And thank you for not hanging it out there, this thing costs a fortune.”

“It’s her favourite,” Luke said, turning from where he’d been tickling Rover’s belly. Wow, he only ever let Reggie do that, and only sometimes. Then, the guy gave a wink. “It’s my favourite too, y’know.”

“Luke,” Julie said scoldingly, but she was laughing.

“I’m just saying,” Luke continued, wandering back and wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. “You’ve seen our underwear. When do we get to see yours?” They both looked at him expectantly, and he flushed. Were they really asking him to...

“What Luke was trying to say is we’d like to take you out for coffee for saving our things,” Julie said when all he did was stammer and squeak awkwardly. “And... maybe invite you back to our place. If you’re interested.”

“Yes!” he managed. “I’m very interested. I mean- yeah. Yes. Coffee sounds good.”

Turned out Luke’s lucky boxers really were lucky, was all Reggie would say.

[diorchids]

luke castellan who cannot stop humping you.

his fingers tingle with anticipation when you flip over on his bunk, leg splayed across his.

he rolls you over just to squeeze your ass, moving slowly and surely to not make a sound.

“mmm?” you moan out, feeling his fingers dig into your hips as he ruts his clothed cock against your ass. his boxers damp against your shorts’ cloth, his own needy cock fully erect and his tip covered in pre-cum.

“shh, shh. stay still f’ me.” his eyes squeezed shut, he’s biting his lower lip hard, each time he thrusts up against you, trying to focus on the sensation rather than the overwhelming pleasure from your ass against him.

"f-fuck... feels.. so good." his hushed moans and pleasured cries mix with your soft gasps. you shush him over and over.

“might get me in trouble," luke whispered, the feeling of your ass against his cock becoming too much for him to handle. “can't control myself." his grip on your hips tightened, and he thrust his hips harder, unable to stop himself.

“so soft...” luke groaned, his face buried in your neck, his cock sliding against your ass through his boxers.

“shit!" luke’s body tensed, and he came hard, his cock throbbing against your ass through your shorts his orgasm was intense, shudders running through him as he tried to catch his breath. warm cum coated every inch of his needy cock. he was embarrassed.

"fuck, i'm sorry," he whispered while his sensitive cock twitched.

[mrskywalkers-chanelboots]

i started thinking about the boxer/dancer dinluke au again and now i am this close to actually writing it like i have a perfect opening scene

now i guess i need to learn shit about boxing,,, and figure out where this story fucking goes

[murdrdocs]

REARRANGE YOUR WORLD. luke castellan

description. as the daughter of the god of dreams still honing her powers, you sometimes found yourself sucked into the dreams of others. tonight, like most nights, you find yourself in the dream of luke castellan. however, his dream seems to be more pleasant than it usually is

includes. SMUT 18+, fem!reader, she/her pronouns for r, consensual voyeurism (luke watches), dub con voyeurism (r watches luke watching…), subby!Luke, dom!reader (dream scape reader), real r and luke r just friends, cliffhanger don't be shocked; title from this must be my dream by the 1975

pt 2

wc. 1.3k+

a/n: the description and warnings makes it sound confusing but its not i swear.

Your dreamscape begins to morph. 

You’re barely allowed to mourn the disappearance of the world you love so much, soft grass that acts as a cushion beneath your lax body, the distant smell of salt water and the soft sound of cascading waves just a little ways away. Nobody else in the world is there with you, yet you don’t feel lonely one bit. 

And then, it’s ripped from under you and you find yourself in a bedroom instead. 

It’s large, warm as if there was previously a source of heat but you don’t find one. You exist solely among furniture, a grandiose bedroom suite, a four poster bed in the center, the shape of what looks to be a couch in the corner. But nothing else is as clear as the bed. 

You take a step closer, preparing for the piece of furniture to be the focus of the dream. 

There’s just a few moments before the subject appears where things start to change. The changes aren’t noticeable, and if you hadn’t been forced to exist in dreams for a while now you wouldn’t have recognized them. The way the air became more humid and a little stuffier. The smell of the air becomes more pungent with a light musk that reeks of human sweat. And then you can feel a presence even before it’s there. 

That’s when they appear. 

One figure sits at the edge of the bed on their haunches. From what you can tell, they’re masculine presenting, the expanse of their back toned and tanned, dotted with a few sparse moles. They’re wearing nothing but dark boxer briefs. 

The other figure sits towards the top of the bed. They’re lounging more so, wearing nothing but feminine undergarments. It takes you a while to notice who it is, and you spend the time analyzing their position. Leaned back on their elbows casually, legs bent and connected at the knee. They hold the position and air of a goddess, but it’s not until the dream clears you that you notice they aren’t a goddess. They’re a demigod. 

They’re you. 

Wearing a confident smile (bordering on a smirk) as well as she’s wearing that underwear set. 

Your eyebrows furrow, you take a step closer, trying to figure out who is having a dream about you. 

You step to the side of the bed and focus on the masculine figure. When your eyes land on Luke Castellan, things start to click into place. 

Usually, Luke’s dreams are nightmares. Many times have you been pulled from the serenity of your dreamscape into the tortuous lands that Luke’s mind produced. You’ve fought off monsters from the deepest pits of the underworld along Luke’s side, only to wake up in the morning bearing the mental scars and smiling in Luke’s face as if you were unaware of your presence within his mind. 

Your shoulders briefly start to tense as you prepare yourself for such. You wait, and wait. Anticipating the ground to open and swallow the scene. Or for a lightning bolt to strike down your surroundings. Or for something to come from somewhere to morph this brief serenity. 

But the nightmare never comes. 

Which leaves you to watch and see what will come. For better or for worse. 

A few moments go by and then Dream You is speaking. 

“Are you going to watch me, Lukey?” 

Your eyebrows raise at the nickname. It’s not one you haven’t called him before, but you usually say it in an egotistical tease, used mostly during intense moments like capture the flag or during training. 

Never with that tone of voice. 

Dream You speaks like a temptress. Her voice is smooth, teasing, and seductive. You don’t even know if your real life voice is capable of sounding like that. 

Luke nods, curly hair bouncing with the movement. 

“Yes.” He hesitates for a second before adding, “If you’ll let me.” 

Her grin grows and it’s not unlike the appearance of the cheshire cat. 

“Of course I’ll let you, Luke. I’m not cruel.” 

Dream You spreads her legs and the wet patch in the center of her panties is so vivid and emphasized. It’s only something that could exist within a dreamscape, a place where everything was emphasized. Desired or not. 

With the way Luke’s breath hitches, you’re sure the sight of Dream You’s arousal is heavily desired by him. 

His fingers twitch at his sides as if he wants to touch you. You notice Dream You’s eyes glancing down to his digits, but if she notices his eagerness she doesn’t say anything. 

She situates herself up against the headboard and uses her now freed hands to touch her body. One hand goes to her chest and the other goes between her legs. She closes her eyes, and begins to touch over her slit. 

“What do you say?” She asks Luke, her eyes still closed as she gets lost in the movements. 

Luke’s reply is nearly instant. 

“Thank you.” 

Dream You sighs, she hums dismissively, and then she hooks her thumbs under the elastic of her panties and slides them off of her legs. 

For some reason, your first instinct is to turn away. It’s only now that you’ve realized that Luke Castellan is having a wet dream about you, and you then realize that this is an intrusion. You shouldn’t be here and you should instead be working on finding your way out. 

There is no reason for you to stay. Surely, Luke won’t be in any danger in this dream. There'll be no variables for you to manipulate or no reason to wake Luke up before he goes too far under. 

But then again … it’s your body. You look at it every single day and that shouldn’t have to change solely because you’re viewing it through someone else’s perspective.  Intrigue preys on you, urging you to get closer and closer until you can feel the heat wafting off of their bodies. 

You take a step closer. 

Since Luke has never seen you naked (from what you know at least), there are a few things that are off. Before you can stop yourself, you’ve blinked and your dream body is as realistic as the one in reality. 

She swipes her fingers through her slit, dragging them up to her clit to rub a few circles, then she goes back down to slip her fingers into her entrance, two at a time. 

Her moan is instantly pornographic. She throws her head back, arches her back, spreads her legs even more as her fingers start to pump in and out of her cunt. The noises are loud and lewd and vivid. They should make you cringe, and if you weren’t starting to be affected by Luke’s dream then maybe you would have. 

Instead, you notice Luke beginning to palm the very prominent shape in his briefs and you can feel yourself falling under a spell of sorts. Everything becomes dreamier. You’re losing your self control. You’re having to fight the urge to kneel on that bed with Luke. 

You don’t know if you expected Luke to ask Dream You for permission to touch himself (the relationship between these two is almost as intriguing as their movements), but he doesn’t. He reaches into his briefs and pulls his cock out. 

You get a glimpse of his head—red and leaking and admittedly enticing—before your moral compass knocks back into place. 

You take one step back, and then another. There really is no reason for you to be in here. Luke is fine, he’s probably having the time of his life, and you no longer have to play the role of the worried friend. You can leave him to his dreamscape, and return to yours where you’ll either try to remember as many details as possible or try to forget it all. 

Either way, you shouldn’t be in here. 

You turn around and a door appears. 

Your foot lands in front of you, and you’re about to make your way to the exit until Luke speaks. 

“Stay.”