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gurugirl · 1 year ago

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Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

“So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2

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finelinevogue · 7 months ago

Text

, happy endings

summary - everyone sees you as this weird and crazy ravenclaw. everyone except remus and sirius.

pairing : ravenclaw!reader x wolfstar

word count: +3k

[part 1] [part 2]

You walked out of Flitwick’s office with your head low.

It caused you anxiety to know anyone could watch you exit your Head of House’s office, because everyone knew the only reason you’d be in there is because you were in trouble.

You accidentally bumped into people on your way out, though, making you stop short.

“I’m so sorry.” You said.

“Y/N? Hey, it’s only us.” Sirius said and you lifted your head to catch sight of him and Sirius before you.

You became anxious over Sirius coming to find you over a moment that you’d shared with Remus in Potions earlier. You knew that it had meant nothing to Remus, even if it had meant something to you. The way Sirius had looked at you afterwards though still made you uncomfortable thinking about.

“Sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Just as Remus was about to say something, Professor Flitwick came out of his office.

“Ah. Just the two people I need to see.” Flitwick said, causing you to bolt before any other questions could get asked.

“But…” Sirius started, watching you leave without a goodbye.

“C’mon.” Remus tugged Sirius, not wanting to get into any more trouble if they somehow already were.

“If it’s any consolation, Mr Black, i’d like to talk to you both about Y/N.”

That caught Sirius’ attention and he was more engaged to enter Flitwick’s office then. Remus followed close behind.

Flitwick’s office was small but magical. Literally.

He had pieces of paper filing themselves away everywhere. There were books also putting themselves away on designated shelves.

“Take a seat boys.”

Flitwick went around the side of his desk and sat opposite where Sirius and Remus now sat.

Remus’ fingers started scratching at one another, because the anticipation of knowing what he’d done wrong and how he would be punished was too much. His only saving thoughts were that Sirius was beside him and you were the reason they were here, not him.

Sirius reached over to take Remus’ hand in his, interlocking their fingers to stop Remus from fidgeting.

“Are we in trouble, Professor?” Sirius asked, “‘Cause if we are, I can guarantee it was all me and nothing to do with Remus.”

Remus slightly smiled at how protective Sirius still was even after so long.

“I can assure you that neither one of you are in trouble. I just need to ask something of both of you.”

“Okay.” Sirius said skeptically.

“Darcy Gunther came to see me today, claiming that Y/N provoked Darcy’s cat and this explains the scratches down Miss L/N’s face. Now I have known Y/N since she started at this school and I don’t particularly think they would be so silly to do such a thing—.”

“They wouldn’t.” Sirius quickly chimed in, feeling Remus’ hand tense in Sirius’ due to the rage of hearing Darcy’s story.

“However.” Flitwick clearly didn’t enjoy being interrupted, “Miss L/N came in here and did not defend herself. I asked Y/N what was said to cause such a reaction from Darcy’s cat and all I got was a shrug in return. Miss Gunther explained that it was because Y/N was jealous that you two never give her the time of day? Again, I know Miss L/N and I don’t think this would be a concern of theirs.”

“Definitely.” Remus agreed.

“I don’t need to know what you two think about this. However, I am aware of Miss L/Ns lack of social circle and would like to ask if you two—.”

“Absolutely.”

“Yes, anything!”

Flitwick had to bite back a smile.

“— could make sure Y/N feels included.” He finished his sentence whilst the boys continued to nod. “Good.”

“So that’s it? No… getting into trouble?” Remus asked warily.

“Unless you have a direct link to what happened to Y/Ns face, Mr Lupin, you are free to go.”

“Wow. First time getting called into a teachers office and not getting told off!” Sirius laughed, as he and Remus stood to leave.

They both walked for the door, knowing they were about to burst out in conversation with each other once they’d left.

“Sirius?” Flitwick asked.

Sirius turned, whilst Remus had one hand on the door ready.

“Remember detention at Friday lunch.”

Sirius winked, “You got it.”

Remus rolled his eyes before they walked out the door.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were sat at your favourite spot in the library when Sirius and Remus approached you.

The book you were reading was a novel full of adventure, mystery and treasure. You loved reading. The escapism into a world entirely different to your own was second to none. It was freeing and most importantly safe.

“Hey.” Remus said as he approached you.

You were sat at a four person bench table, you in the middle of one bench and - now - Sirus and Remus clambering to sit on the opposite bench.

“Hey.” You smiled.

“What’re you reading?” Remus asked.

You showed him the title and he looked impressed.

They didn’t have any books or notes of their own, so they must’ve either come here to cause trouble or to genuinely just sit and talk with you.

Curious.

“Are you two okay?” You asked.

“Y/N, you got attacked by a cat and you’re asking whether we’re okay?” Sirius asked, staring at your wound with intent.

“Did Flitwick put you up to this? To interrogate the truth out of me?” You frowned.

You had hoped they’d come here to chat with you, but maybe they were here on business to cause trouble after all.

“No.” Remus said.

“Yes.” Sirius said.

You looked at them confused.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked Remus, flicking his finger on his forehead.

“What are you doing? Exposing us.”

“When have I ever been good at lying, Moony?”

“Uh… That time it turned out you’d been using my toothbrush for a whole term!”

“At least I was keeping my teeth clean!”

You stared at them with utter confusion.

You didn’t know what to feel. First they are here to spy on you and the truth? Then Remus lies to you about it? And now they are bickering over oral hygiene. If you didn’t insanely like them both, a normal person would have left by now.

“This is ridiculous. We’re talking about this later.” Remus muttered, annoyed with his boyfriend.

Sirius turned to you grinning and Remus tried his best to smile.

It took you all of three seconds to start chuckling to yourself. You could feel the corners of your eyes crease and the dimple on your face pop out to say hello.

Your giggles filled the space around you and you had to out a hand over your mouth in hopes of keeping them muffled.

“Ssh!” Some senior prefect glared at you.

“Oi! Don’t tell her to shush,” Sirius barked and then quietly muttered, “Prick.”

“No it’s okay. It’s a library, I should be quiet.” You stopped laughing, but not smiling.

“Not when you’re laughing like that, you shouldn’t.” Remus said.

His comment made you blush and you had to dip your head before Sirius could see.

You were worried if Sirius caught you being affected by Remus’ kindness - again - he would probably have to confront you, and you weren’t too excited for that.

There was just something about Sirius and Remus that made your heart feel right. Like they were a reminder that even through all the tough moments, there was still sunshine in the form of them.

Remus had his level-headed, introverted-ness, about him and Sirius was all hot-headed and cool. Both of them together just made sense.

You wished you had someone that would complete you into being made sense of.

It was hard though when, well for one no one in the school ever talked to you, and the only people who do speak to you are already in an established relationship.

“Y/N, are you single?” Sirius asked, breaking the silence.

Remus’ jaw dropped and looked at Sirius like he just killed his grandma.

Why was Sirius asking whether you were single when his boyfriend was sat next to him?

“What is this?” You nervously chuckled, “An interrogation over my love life?”

“Sirius…” Remus tried to stop him before he could start, but there was just no point.

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” Sirius asked.

“No.” You said quietly, embarrassed.

“Do you ever want to be?”

“Sirius!” Remus cursed.

“I-I don’t know what game you’re playing, Sirius, but it’s not funny. I get that I’m the joke of Ravenclaw and possibly even the school, but I’m not going to sit around and have you of all people embarrass me.” You spoke firmly, gathering your book in your hand.

“What do you mean ‘of all people’?” Sirius pushed.

“Sirius stop.” Remus gripped his boyfriends arm.

“W-we shouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

“What conversation, Y/N? I’m just talking.”

“You’re being a dick.” You muttered.

“A dick?”

“Yes. You know damn well that no one in this school likes me and it’s really cruel of you to make such a big deal of it.” Your eyes started to well with water.

“Y/N… That’s not…” Sirius started.

You stood up from your chair at the bench, “Look, I know what people say about me okay? I’d just rather not hear it from you today.”

And with that you were gone.

Sirius and Remus both watched you leave in a hurry, clearly not wanting to hang around for a single second longer than needed.

Remus whacked Sirius around the head with his hand.

“Ow- What the…?” Sirius whined.

Remus just glared at him.

“I screwed up.”

“Yeah, you screwed up.” Remus nodded in agreement. “What were you even trying to attempt?”

“Ask her on a date.”

“With who?”

“Us.” Sirius looked at Remus now like he’d not been present for the past five years.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause asking a girl who has never been in a relationship before on a date with, not one but, two guys is a great starting point.” Remus sarcastically answered.

“Ah…”

“Christ alive, how did you ever win me over?” Remus mumbled as he got up from the bench.

“Heyyy…” Sirius whined. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To fix your bloody mess.”

“Shall I….?”

“You stay here.” Remus ordered, hugging Sirius from behind with his arms dangling over his shoulders.

“And do what?”

“Read a book.”

“Read? A book?” Sirius pretended to gag.

“Love you.” Remus kissed Sirius’ cheek, before reluctantly unravelling himself from him.

“I love you, but you are causing me much pain by forcing me to read.” Sirius banged his head on the table, hoping his sat force would cause Remus to change his mind.

But no.

Remus was gone and Sirius would have to go and find a book.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were sitting on the floor of a dark corridor by yourself.

No one ever came down here because they were too scared of the Ravenclaw ghosts - that you had befriended over the years.

You wiped your tears from your cheeks a with your sweater as you heard footsteps approaching.

It was slightly sad, no definitely sad - the lame kind - to be sitting on the floor crying over two guys that you never thought would’ve given you the time of day, but here you were.

Remus and Sirius occupied too much of your brain space.

They made you happy, even if they didn’t know it.

You imagined what it would be like being happy with them.

Then, perhaps, you imagined a little too hard because the next thing you see is Remus walking down the corridor towards you.

You briefly catch him slip a piece of parchment into his back pocket, before wiping the rest of your tears away.

“Hi.” He nervously smiled.

You curled your knees up into your chest as your back pressed against the cold stone. Your eyes slowly watched Remus walk beside you, only to slink down against the wall and sit next to you.

“I don’t want to talk.” You said quietly, even though there was no one around to hear but him.

“That’s okay. If all you want to do is sit in this hallway in silence, then I’m happy to do it with you.”

Your heart swooned over his words.

You’d never had someone so insistent on being around you. A day ago, Remus and Sirius probably had never had you on their mind and yet today you had already seen them 3 times. 4 if you included this time with Remus.

Remus kept his word and remained silent next to you, until five minutes later your thoughts were too loud to keep them in your head.

“How did you know where to find me?” You asked.

“Oh, uh, I guessed.”

“Lucky guess.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I should apologise to Sirius?”

“What?” Remus laughed, “No absolutely not. He was being a dick and he knew it. I love him, but he has no boundaries.”

You chuckled at that, because you could only imagine.

You scooted closer to Remus, needing to feel a little extra warmth in this cold corridor. The stone floor wasn’t exactly ideal for sitting on, but it had grounded you when you felt like you were slipping away. Now that Remus was here you felt like you had another way - a better way - of grounding yourself.

Plus, for some reason, Remus was exhorting a lot of heat.

“I feel like I need to apologise to Sirius anyways.” You admitted.

“How come?” Remus didn’t make any jokes. He just gave you the space to talk.

“I… It’s.. Gosh I don’t know how to say any of this.”

You shook your head, burrowing it down to your knees as if not being able to see the world would mean you’d entirely removed yourself from the situation.

How on Earth were you supposed to explain to Remus that you needed to apologise to his boyfriend because he’s caught you ogling Remus one too many times now? How do you admit a crush like this? And then not just on one, but two people? At once?

It was insufferable being inside your head currently.

It was like a giant wave of guilt and shame constantly crashing its way down on you, weighing you down until you felt like you couldn’t breathe any more.

“I.. I think there’s something wrong with me.” You let the tears fall then, feeling safe enough next to Remus to cry.

“Y/N…”

Your head shot up from your knees, needing to get this out, “I have never been loved before, Remus. I know I’m the butt of the joke. That I’m deemed unworthy and a bit pathetic. I get it, I do. But it fucking sucks that people see me like this when I still have a heart underneath, just like anyone else. It’s full of love and joy and happiness, but sometimes I forget it’s all there because of how small people make me feel. I’ve never felt like I fit in. I don’t fit in. And I certainly wouldn’t fit into a relationship with the likes of you or Sirius. So I need to apologise to Sirius and I need to apologise to you for ever believing that I could worm myself into your relationship - like I’ve wanted to for the past sodding half my life.”

You felt out of breath as you finished speaking, letting your chest heave off the anger.

You felt lighter for letting it all out, but also terrified at the boy you adored staring blankly in front of you and what his answer would be.

The silence lasted for two seconds too long before you decided that you’ve ruined everything.

“I’m sorry Remus. God, I’m so so sorry.”

You made tracks to stand up, but Remus stood up with you just as quickly - ignoring the resulting cracks from his bones.

He made his quickly into the space between you both and cupped your cheeks carefully.

“No. No, stop that. Don’t be sorry, not for that.”

You pouted your lips and your eyes watered.

“I never meant to hurt anyone.”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart? You’ve not hurt anyone,” Remus delicately traced his finger down the cat-scratch wound on your face, “Except only yourself.”

“I-I’m so.. s-sorry.” You hiccuped, tears falling down your face. Remus raced to catch them all as if it was a game, urging them to stop falling.

“Sshh. You’re okay.”

“I’m ru-ining everything.” You tried to drop your head but Remus kept you facing him.

“Never. You’re not, I promise. You haven’t ruined anything. You’re too good to ruin anything. Too sweet.”

You started sobbing then and Remus let you drop your head against his chest. He cupped the back of your head protectively and wrapped the other around your back to keep you close to him. His body shook as yours did and he felt every bit of devastation that you did.

You hurting, hurt Remus just the same. Just as Remus knew Sirius also felt.

Sirius soon appeared down the corridor, almost running when he realised it was you that was shaking heavily in Remus’ arms.

“Moony, what happened? Who did this? I swear when I find out who—.”

“Sirius will you calm down. She’s not hurt - well, not physically.” Remus explained, trying to calm down his boyfriend whilst also consoling you.

After hearing Sirius’ voice you reluctantly pulled away from Remus’ embrace. You nervously looked over at Sirius, your eyes no doubt swollen and puffy and your hair frayed from all the nuzzling into Remus chest.

“Y/N…” Sirius said your name so softly you would have smiled had it not been for the heartbroken tone he used.

“I’m so sorry for interfering with you and your boyfriend.” You apologised to Sirius.

Your fingers started scratching at each other with nerves.

You expected Sirius to lash out and agree with you, but instead he looked devastated - not with you, but himself. There was a look of remorse and guilt on his face, one you knew all too well.

“Is that how you’ve felt? How i’ve made you feel?” He asked.

You didn’t answer because it was clear he already knew the answer and you didn’t feel cruel enough to say it out loud.

“Moony… I’m sorry. I’ve ruined everything.” Sirius started to become upset now.

It only was moments before that you’d been upset over the same thing.

“Hey, listen to me. You’ve not ruined anything. You’re as perfect as you always are. But Y/N has something to say, okay?” Remus wrapped his arm around Sirius waist and turned him to face you.

As they both looked at you with starry and tearful eyes you couldn’t help but believe that you’d caused so much unnecessary pain and hurt to the two people you’d vowed never to upset.

It was clear that there was no room for you to fit in beside them, regardless of how badly you wanted to.

That was okay. It was something that would hurt but it would be something you’d learn to grow from in time.

“Sirius…” You started, before not really knowing where to go from there. You wanted to apologise, but you didn’t know quite how.

Sirius moved away from Remus and in front of you, wiping away some loose hair from your face. He was so close to you, you almost couldn’t breathe.

“I always felt unworthy…”

“Sirius…”

“No just hear me out. I always felt unworthy, until I met Remus. He showed me that I was able to be loved and treated with kindness. Then I came to realise that I could also love and treat people with kindness, and that realisation came when I met you. In fact, it was before I met you. It was the first time I saw you standing on the Platform, waiting to leave for Hogwarts. I saw you and I instantly believed I could be capable of loving someone else. My heart let in Moony, of course it did, but it never felt quite whole. Like there was a piece of the puzzle missing.”

You quickly glanced from Sirius to Remus, to make sure this was an okay conversation to be having - despite how much you never wanted the moment to end.

Remus gave you an encouraging nod.

“I felt it too.”

“All this time we’d been reeling over what that little bit of emptiness was caused by, until we realised that it was because we were missing you.”

#remus x sirius #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fic #wolfstar #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar oneshot #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fanfic rec #wolfstar x reader rec #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #wolfstar fic rec

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deepestnightcolor · 3 months ago

Note

i’m not asking i’m BEGGING for a fic about sam getting all worked up in the saloon bc you just won’t stop teasing him so he brings you to the bathroom and goes crazy on you. bonus points if someone almost walks in 🙏🙏 you’re an angel btw

☾ ꜱɴᴀᴘ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: Wellp. I don't know why I always make Sebastian listening in, but. Heh. Whoops.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 2461 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Teasing, edging, orgasm denial, cursing, dirty talk, semi public sex, being caught fucking, Seb is a tease as well, cream pie, kind of a little humiliation.

Why did your hand have to feel so good? Why did you always know just how to touch him? No, scratch that. This was not the problem. He loved how you touched him. The more important question was this: Why the hell were you devious enough to touch him just right in the fucking saloon? Even worse, why the hell were you devilish enough to do so when Sebastian was sitting right across from you? At the beginning of the night, he had been able to handle it. It was just you squeezing and stroking his thigh after all, maybe nuzzling your cute little nose against his neck here and there. Easy. Light work no reaction type of shit. And now? Now he was sitting there, face flushed, and a drop of sweat having caught in his brow. He had gotten hard long ago; the moment you had returned from the bathroom and had dropped your little panties into his lap when you had sat down next to him again, to be more exact. He was sitting there with a cock aching from oversensitivity, caused by countless times of being pushed close to the edge, just for you to remove your hand. But even then, you didn’t give him a fucking break; no. As soon as the orgasm had gotten out of reach again, your hand was back, stroking and touch, finding the leaky tip of his dick and rubbing the fabric of his boxers against it. “You good, man?” It was the first time in a while Sebastian had directed his attention to him again, because Sam had logged off the conversation ages ago, too busy on focusing to not moan out loud. Which was why the blond needed to clear his throat a few times before he could even think about answering. “Yeah, Sammy. You good? You have been so quiet? Don’t you feel good?” Oh, you fucking devil. The look he shot you must have been charged with energy, because his friend let out a soft laugh. “Damn, dude. You grumpy or some shit?” “No,” Sam pressed out, and of course you had to be a fucking bitch about it, thumb pressing down on his red tip the moment he had opened his mouth. He hadn’t been able to stop the whimper from rolling off his tongue, and no matter how much he prayed, the look on Sebastian’s face told him it had been exactly as audible as it had sounded. “Sam-“

“Just feeling a bit light-headed,” Sam forced through grit teeth, trying to keep his eyes focused on the black-haired male to keep them from rolling into the back of his skull. “Do you want me to get you a water?” Fuck. Fuck, no. He wanted to get home, rip off your clothes and sink his fat dick into the pussy that you had told him was so wet for him. “I think that would be nice,” you mused. God, how did you do it? How did you manage to make your voice sound so empathetic, so genuinely concerned while you knew very damn well you were the root of this? Seb gave a slow nod, seemingly unsure, yet he scooted out of his booth, making his way iver to Gunther. Sam took in a deep breath, trying to regain even just an ounce of his composure, but this poor guy failed miserably. Especially when he heard your voice, all chipper and happy: “You look so good like this, you know that? All desperate to cum, and even more desperate to not let Sebastian know anything.” Another deep breath, but you just had to giggle as you rubbed over his tip again, didn’t you? Just had to push and prod him toward the edge again, right? “Fuck this,” he suddenly snapped, standing up with more force than he had estimated, making you look up at him with widened eyes. “I am going to the bathroom now. And you better follow me,” he hissed, tugging down his white shirt before heading toward the back, leaving you behind a little bewildered. You hadn’t expected that this would have caused Sam to snap, but you took it. Standing up and following after the blond, not even caring about leaving behind a confused little Sebastian. And if you had cared? Then you had forgotten about him the moment Sam’s lips collied with yours in a messy kiss, his tongue not only licking over your tongue, but also your teeth oh so desperately. “Sam,” you tried, wanted to apologize for pushing him so far. Instead, you were turned around and pressed against the sink, Sam’s hands flipping up your skirt, and without hesitation, his hand came down on your soft skin, having you gasp out under the pressure of the slap. “Fuck, look at that ass jiggle,” he growled, another smack coming down, his cock twitching for the billionth time that night, especially when you whined again. “Not so funny when you are the one being teased, huh?” He whispered, pressing the bulge in his pants right against your bare cunt. He was trying to be just a little mean – you had teased him all night, after all! But Sammy was very well aware that he couldn’t keep up this act for long, not when he could have you like this. Not when you looked so pretty for him. Oh God, you were so fucking gorgeous. It was hard to believe that you were able to be such a fucking devil. A devil that was now arching her back to push back against the quick little grinds he gave you, a devil that had him close to breaking.

“Fuck,” Sam breathed, deciding on a whim that this was enough. He could not possibly take any more pending up, he needed that bare little pussy right fucking now. The sound of his belt and zipper went well with your panting and little huffs as you tried to push back against him, just to whine when you realized that Sam was holding you pinned against the sink, too scared of finally busting if you touched his abused dick even one more time. Even pulling his boxers down just enough felt like almost too much, making him hiss when the wet fabric finally was removed from his drooling head. “Sam, please-“ another sentence you didn’t get to finish, another sentence interrupted by a moan as you felt the pressure of his cock against your wet, sloppy hole. “You are drenched,” Sam hissed between heavy breaths, his Adam’s apple hobbling under the pressure gulps of air he had to suck only to not cum on the spot. You nodded in response, your fingers tightening around the rim of the sink, your own breathing now laboured, only for you to hold your breath when Sam suddenly pushed forward. You had expected him to enter you slowly, and he did! For the first half, at least. You cried out when a strong thrust suddenly had your boyfriend stretch you thin, his pulsing cock plunged into your walls. And just like you had done before, Sam didn’t even think about giving you a break. Oh, no. “You can be such a little slut,” he whispered as his lips found your neck, peppering quick, wet kisses over your skin, “making me so hard right in front of my best friend. Was it worth it, huh? Was this what you wanted? To be fucked in a tiny little bathroom?” You didn’t even know what to say, didn’t even want to say anything; not when Sam fucked into you like this. Deep and hard, balls smacking against your skin so lewdly. “Feel how hard you got me? God, I could fucking cum from just looking at you, but you don’t deserve it yet. Put so much effort in denying my orgasms, after all.” Maybe he was being a bit mean, especially now that he was picking up the pace of his thrusts, allowing his rock-hard dick to bully our gushy little cunt, but you definitely deserved it after torturing him all night. And you took it so well, too! Moaning for him like there weren’t any people on the other side of the door. Neither of you cared; too engulfed by bow the other felt, by how you sounded.

Another wet lick to your neck, another bite. Fuck, you felt heavenly. Squeezing his dick perfectly right, like your pussy was sucking him off. It was only natural that he wasn’t able to refrain himself from going faster, that he needed to bully your perfect fucking cunt. “Fuck, baby!” He yelped, his chest pressing against your back as he sucked a hickey into your skin, sharp teeth sinking into your flesh just for the hell of it, just to hear that tiny little squeak escape you. “That’s it, that’s fucking it, keep squeezin’ me like that, God, fuck, I am gonna fill this pretty little pussy up with so much cum, make you sit out there with it leaking out of you- anghh~ like that idea? Yeah? You clenched ‘round me, baby. Like it so much, yeah? Want to be my dirty little whore?” Even if you had the words to respond to that, you certainly didn’t have the will for it. Not when Sam’s thrusts had your body shaking, not when the metal of then piercing pressed against your walls so delicately. You much rather moaned his name, small sobs falling from your lips just for you to bite your lower one, You were so perfect to him, it was no wonder he was salivating like this. You had his cock throbbing with your sounds alone, and then you also had the audacity to look so good as he was fucking you. He wouldn’t last long, even in his pussy-drunken mind, he knew that his orgasm was close. His dick was too sensitive, and you just felt too good for his balls not to pull tight, for his tip not to leak pre-cum that mixed with your sweet juices. “Sammyyyyy,” you whined, and oh, how he knew that whine. It was slurred, and drawn out, followed by a hiccupped moan. You were close yourself, but too fucking drunk on dick to tell him. Hell, he loved you. “Cum for me,” he whispered through the strain of a groan, his fingernails digging into your hips as he pounded into you, abusing spots that made you see stars. “Cum for me like, baby. Cum all over my fat cock, let them fucking know who’s fucking you so damn fucking well.” The mixture of sounds that followed was almost deadly, urging him to fuck you faster; thrusts having turned into reckless pounding, the blond being desperate to have his cum milked by your clenching pussy. You sobbed as one of your hands wandered between your legs, giving your swollen clit a few desperate flicks, your back already arching in as your tried to grind back, so close to the edge you could already taste it on your tongue, you were close, so close- “Guys? You in there? Did Sam fucking faint?” Fuck. Sebastian. You had forgotten about Sebastian. “Seb-“ You tried, but a hand clasped over your mouth almost immediately. “No! I am fine! Go away!” Your boyfriend barked, his hips never even slowing, making you go cross eyed when his hand replaced yours, rubbing those quick circles into your clit. You started up that squirming again, the grinds, the desperate humps, your need to cum overweighing trying to stay hidden. The whimper that left you was loud, even though you were being muffled, and it didn’t help the situation, Sam’s dick throbbing at the thought of Seb slowly realizing what was happening. Seb, who still hadn’t left. “You sure? Is she okay-“ “Fuck!” Sam groaned out, the way your cunt clenched not helping at all. “She is feeling good!” He barked back, making you whine against his hand again, the high-pitched moan that was breathed into his palm oh so needy. “Cum baby, come on, cum for me,” he urged you, making you nod with a sob. One last thrust, and it was over for you. Cunt spasming around Sam’s pretty dick, drenching around him. “She’s feeling very good,” Sam laughed through laboured whines, just in case his bestie still hadn’t gotten the hint.

“Mhhhm!” You croaked through your tears, poor pussy squeezing the life out of Sam’s dick. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck, he was going to cum. “Guys-“ Seb again, and the thought of Sebastian hearing you come undone for him, was all it took for Sam to burst. A low groan filled the room, high in pitch as he came inside of you, his hips shaking as his cock twitched with each spurt of cum that filled your gorgeous cum, claiming it as his. That wasn’t enough for Sam, though. He needed it as deep inside of you as humanly, needed you stuffed. Which wasn’t hard given with how much he came, but still. Hips shakily kept thrusting inside of you, until he finally was milked dry, the mess you two created already leaking out of you when he pulled back.

You stood there for a moment with Sam holding you up lazily, his lips finding your neck to press gentle kisses into the skin again, only hearing your heavy breathing and heart beats. “Wait,” the blond murmured after a while, pulling some of the hand towels from the dispenser, holding it under the sink to makeshift clean you up. “there we go. It’s not much, but it will do until we are back in the booth.” “Back in the booth?” “Yep.” “But- uh- I am so…full.” “I know.” You swallowed thickly, turning around to find your boyfriend grinning at you with a cocked vrow. “Well, maybe it will work. Can you give me my panties?” “Nope.” Sam chuckled at the look of surprise on your face, slowly leaning down so his hot breath was fanning your face. “You are going to sit out there and face Sebastian with your cunt stuffed full of cum, trying your best to hold those pretty little legs together and think about what you did tonight. And only then you might get back your panties on our way home.” You swallowed thickly, but Sam’s lips kissing yours took away your ability to answer before he pulled away to fix himself back into his pants, opening the door once you were decent. He walked out almost confidently, just to bump right on into his best friend. “Seb! The fuck are you still doing here?” “Well, I thought you were dizzy,” Seb said with a grin, head tilted to the side, “just making sure neither of you fainted in there.”

Suddenly, however, something shifted. Their eyes met, and the men seemed to communicate in silence before slowly turning to you, eyes landing on your legs. A smile formed on their faces and with another look at the other, they were bumping their fists together. All at once you knew with certainty: things had turned.

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley fanfic #sdv fanfic #stardew valley smut #sdv smut #stardew valley sam #sdv sam #stardew valley sam x reader #sdv sam x reader #stardew valley sam x reader smut #sdv sam x reader smut #sam sdv x reader #sam stardew valley x reader #sam sdv smut

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minteagalaxea · 3 months ago

Text

siren | jm. uso

jimmy uso . breakers series

genre: smut (minors dni) . a modicum of plot content warnings: unprotected sex (please use protection) . exhibitionism . daddy kink . squirting . questionable dirty talk . afab reader (she/her pronouns) . implied age gap (reader is in college/early twenties) . cowgirl position . spanking word count: 1.73k inspiration: jimmy slapping gunther . jimmy at the beach (thank you naomi) . mermaids/sirens . spring break . me being on spring break (i graduated early!) songs: "back it up" by seventeen (x) . wave by seventeen (x) read also: "serpent" (x) . "seelie" (x) notes: thank you so much to @spiicii for helping me find the jimmy photos and inspo for the graphics. also thank you @lov3rla03 and the cumfessions for really making me lock it in 🩶

spring break meant a lot of things to a lot of people.

when she was a child, it meant family vacations to whatever spot her parents decided, bumbling around on unsteady feet and wide-eyed eagerness. when she reached adolescence, she still followed along, enjoying more of the scenery than she would ever care to admit.

and now that she was (mostly) an adult, it was having the absolute time of her damn life and savoring the ferocity of university stereotypes about partying and hooking up and drinking and being generally unhinged. and she decided that the best place to really live out the stereotypes of a college student (or, at least, her college) was the spring break capital for every party-loving university student—miami.

it started really at the resort’s dayclub she was staying at with her friends. she was skimpy to the extent of nonexistence, but it didn’t matter in the cabana as her hips swiveled atop the man’s clothed, hard length as his tongue swallowed her. she didn’t give a flying ass about who was watching—hell, if she turned to her left, she saw her best friend in the lap of the man’s friend, his hand slipping down their bikini shorts as they laughed at something or the other. on her right, her other friend was somewhat more tasteful, her head resting on the chest of the broadest of the three as they talked about something or the other, his hand stroking their thigh as they spectated the crowd of people making out or fucking around or in the pool. how the three of them managed to pair off with each of the three men that came in a group was beyond her, but she wasn’t going to complain.

but, that thought slipped away as the edm pounded to the beat of the spanks the man below her was meting out. her voice was a drunk, breathless sort of giggle as she moaned louder into his ear. “c’mon, babygirl, you gotta focus on me.” he sounded gravelly, a concoction of sugar and spice and everything sinful in existence.

“i am,” she countered, arching her ass back to take those spanks with delighted preens, “but i wanted to ask you something…”

“yeah, baby?”

her lips brushed his mouth again with a cheeky smile, “why are you called big jim?”

“you’re sitting on him, babygirl.”

“well, i’m not on him, jimmy. not yet, anyways.” her lips fell into a pout about it, about not having him in them yet, her impatience more apparent as they humped him more fervently.

“patience, baby, we got all day. all week even. ain’t that right?” jimmy’s lips curled into a carnal, feral smirk.

her pouting continued, earning them several more spanks as the song changed to some sort of house track. he didn’t stop them from pawing her nimble fingers into his trunks, letting them feel it for themselves. “oh,” she purred, “you are big, aren’t you, daddy?”

“you think i’d lie about that shit?” he retorted, nipping her bottom lip firmly as he maneuvered her thong aside to expose her cunt to his length, rubbing more insistently now.

“don’t wrestlers…stretch the truth a little bit?” she teased.

“i ain’t gonna lie to you about this, though, babygirl,” jimmy commented, voice low in her ear to make her shiver, “but, now that you say that, that makes me question whether or not i wanna let you sit on me.”

her voice grabbed to a coquettish, needy whine as she fought his firm, stilling grip to get her way, “please, daddy? my pussy’s hungry for you.”

“babygirl, your little cunt’s hungry for any dick. you’re on spring break.”

“don’t care right now, want your dick inside!” her voice came in a reedy whine, her need too hard to bear as she smeared all of her slickness onto him with each grind up and down, and it was enough for him to give in to her demands. he did, after another round of spanking to the beat drop of some house track.

when he sank her down, it wasn’t with any sense of gentility. not that she was expecting it to be gentle, that wasn’t her style right now anyways. that was her friend’s, the one with the big burly man with the long hair as his hand traced lower. and it wasn’t like her other friend, who was getting spoon-fucked as the guy’s hand (was it jimmy’s brother? she couldn’t remember, but she had to admit it was hot).

and the pace jimmy set was relentless, unforgiving as he made her bounce like her life fucking depended on it. okay, so maybe it did right now, with her insatiable hunger for hard, fast, and dirty as he pounded into her, balls slapping right up against her ass she rode him like a bull.

“shit, daddy, that’s so good.” her voice erupted into sultry moans and keens with each flex of her ass and each reverberating smack from gravity. jimmy’s hands gripped that shit like he fucking meant it, her sounds luring him in deeper and deeper into her orbit.

maybe it was a mutual thing, how his voice sunk her deeper into that ocean where nothing mattered except hedonistic pleasure. it was an easy pit to sink into now that there were any mental hurdles getting her way of it. jimmy’s voice certainly was great at evaporating all of that as he cooed seductively, “that’s it, babygirl. you’re not worrying about anything, are you? just focused on this dick filling you up nice and hard.”

it was like being underwater, her head dizzy and foggy with ecstasy. as if his voice was the only thing separating her from coming back up for air to face her reality of impending classes and office hours in that vicious cycle. jimmy was good at it, somehow punishing enough to have her sore for days, yet with enough care to let her feel every vein and ridge that defined his shaft. and she was focused. her friend with the long-haired man would definitely agree—hell, she’d probably tease her later that she could probably describe jimmy’s dick better than her paper on classical greek history and the concept of autonomy and freedom. that prospect made her moan even louder into his ear as her walls clenched around him hotly, especially when she adjusted her angle just right against his reclining figure on the chaise and he hit that spot just right to have her seeing stars.

“shit, babygirl, that’s the spot?” jimmy inquired with a sort of devious smirk as he shifted himself accordingly to keep hitting that spot in her cunt, “gonna get you splashing like a mermaid for daddy?”

“yes, daddy, don’t stop!” she cried into his ear, bouncing harder with more insistence while he pistoned his hips upward at a more palpable pace than earlier, breakneck and bruising as her sounds reached a staccato fervor and reedy pitch. her breasts rubbed up against his body, nipples hardened underneath her scantily-clad top. she knew he could feel it even before he pushed enough of her bikini off so he could have her flesh properly against his as her tongue tangled with his in a dirty kiss, a tango for dominance until she succumbed to him, letting him plunder her mouth.

jimmy’s voice snarled his grunts. his hips pummeled her insides even faster, keeping that angle as she gasped as her pussy fluttered, that spongy wall so so overwhelmed as she convulsed atop him, vibrating in delight.

“shit, babygirl, turning into a little mermaid on land?” his voice came out in a dark tease as he capitalized on her climax, on the tight heat of her clenching walls and her ecstatic cries.

“c’mon, daddy, make me one!” she squealed, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she collapsed onto his strong, inked body, letting him do all the work as her hips bucked off of his own and the chaise, “make me cum so fucking hard!”

“daddy’s got you, babygirl,” he assured with a carnal smirk at her debauched expression and assertion as she felt a hand traipse casually to her mound, pushing the front of her thong aside enough for his hand to rub at her neglected, swollen clit. his voice returned to her ear with honey and cognac on this tongue, a smile on his lips as he nibbled along her exposed neck, “how’d your pussy get even tighter for me, hmm?”

“‘cause my pussy loves your cock, daddy.” her answer wove that spell even deeper, even harder, and even heavier as he busted inside of her. shit, that feeling of being full of cock and cum was heavenly, and she truly missed it. except this was even better as he kept going, kept tapping that overworked clit of hers until he got what he wanted.

and what he wanted was that beautiful little waterfall, and she gave it to him in spades.

her lips curled into a euphoric smile as her walls splattered her essence all over his stomach, a fucked-out preen escaping past her lips as that ichor came out in riveting splashes like a mermaid surfacing to shore in the pool. “fuck, just like that!” she exclaimed with hedonistic glee, pornographic almost as he incited more of that precious nectar from her body with encouraging groans, splattering his abs with it until she collapsed onto his chest.

her breaths were labored, eyes foggy as she stewed in their mess as she felt how his seed was slowly dripping out of her sopping heat onto the chaise. in a lazy moment of boldness, she pressed her lips onto his just as the next song played, some raunchy heavy house track that she didn’t care too much about other than it made her veins thump and pussy flutter around jimmy’s dick like a butterfly.

“c’mon, babygirl,” he offered with that impish, charming smile of his, “let’s play mermaids for real now, hmm?” he effortlessly lifted her up off of the chaise and into the pool. when she turned to her left, she saw some couples engaging in the same behaviors she and her fling were about to. or, at least, some similar equivalent.

all she said, all she wanted to say, as the clear blue chlorinated waters enveloped them both was a tantalizing, “yes, daddy.”

taglist ⇢ @yana3sworld . @roseydoesypoesy . @acute-crashout-jeyuso . @fearlesschimera . @theusotwinzcom . @geekinstilettos

#jimmy uso #big jim #the bloodline #wwe #the usos #jimmy uso x reader #jimmy uso fic #jimmy uso smut #jimmy uso imagine #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #og bloodline

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mythos-writes · 5 months ago

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Stupid Dom, Stupid Finn...

Rhea Ripley x (Female wrestler) reader, Damian Priest x (Female wrestler) reader (All Platonic)

Plot: (Y/N) is there for Rhea and Damian in the aftermath of Summerslam...

Word Count: 607

Warnings: none just the break up of the Judgement day

WWE Masterlist

(Y/N) was sitting in the Judgement Day clubhouse when everything went down. Damian was warming up his match while everyone else was watching Rhea’s match.

“What is Dom doing?” she questions, getting everyone’s attention.

They watched as Dom grabbed the chair from Rhea’s hand, distracting her, and letting Liv get the upper hand. Dom did it again which caused Liv to win.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Damian mudders before storming out of the clubhouse. (Y/N) gets up and quickly follows her friend.

They get to the gorilla just as Rhea gets back there, Liv and Dom are nowhere to be seen.

Rhea makes eye contact with both of them and collapses into their arms. Damian and (Y/N) were shocked at her reaction. Rhea started to shake as her tears streamed down her face.

“Oh Rhea,” Damian whispers into her head. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up,” he says, ushering her towards the women’s locker room.

“Make sure she is ok,” Damian says before leaving for his match against Gunther.

(Y/N) sighs, mind reeling from what had just happened. She turns to Rhea who just looks broken. “Come on, let's get you washed up,” she ushers her friend towards the shower.

Rhea stood there, watching as (Y/N) set up the shower, water to the perfect temperature, the right body wash, etc. Panic set in across Rhea's face as she was about to leave to give her privacy. The panic attack was slowly creeping over Rhea.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m not going anywhere. I will be in the other room if you need me ok?” Rhea nods. (Y/N) hugs her before letting Rhea be. As Rhea was in the shower, (Y/N) watched as Finn went and sabotaged Damian’s chance of winning.

“We’ll be alright,” she whispers, watching her once-perfect chosen family fall into disrepair.

Monday Night Raw

Damian was furious at his ex-friends. Turning against him was one thing but turning against Rhea was another. (Y/N) was stuck in the middle. Since Saturday night, Finn and Dom had been blowing up her phone, trying to get her to hear them out. She ignored them, not wanting to hear what they had to say.

She is sitting with Rhea in the women’s locker room, Rhea is getting ready for her promo. She was putting on her boots while (Y/N) was watching her. She had just watched Rhea all of Saturday night and all day Sunday, trying to go through what had happened during Summerslam. Her phone buzzed again, breaking her trance on the Australian. It was another blitz of texts from Finn and Dom.

“It is them again?” Rhea asks, sitting beside her.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna block them at this point,” (Y/N) comments, going into their contacts, and hitting the block button. She sighs, leaning back into the concrete wall of the dressing room, and observing the woman sitting beside her.

“I am proud of you,” the words slip from her mouth quickly. Rhea zones back in onto her. A small smile creeps across her black-painted lips. “You got hit by a lot of stuff in almost 48 hours and you, and Damian, have done a good job of being there for each other.”

Rhea brings her closer, hugging her. “You should give yourself more credit, you have gone through just as much as we have.”

Thanks, Rhea,” (Y/N) says, admiring the makeup job for tonight.

“Now come on, the show is about to start and certain people need a beat down.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #rhea ripley x reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest x y/n #damian priest x female reader

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eringobragh420 · 8 months ago

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₊⊹ muscle worship

➺ pairing — gunther ♥︎ f!reader ➺ summary — gunther’s girlfriend can’t stop admiring him. ➺ words — 2.3k ➺ warnings — nsfw. muscle worship, praise, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, sir kink, cum 18+ ➺ taglist — if you’d like to be added, please click here! ➺ requested by — @eboni-napalm. please keep your gunther requests coming!

➺ MASTERLIST ➺ WWE KINK LIST

Sicily was beautiful. Their villa beside the sea was beautiful. The sunsets and the restaurants and the people were all beautiful. But the only thing she could seem to admire, the only thing she wanted to photograph, was the beauty that was her boyfriend, Gunther. He’d struggled with his weight for a long time before discovering the most compatible diet and exercise plan. Since then, he’d never looked back—broadening his back and shoulders, toning his arms and thighs, hardening his chest and flattening his abdomen. As he became more and more comfortable in his own skin, it started to show in his wardrobe. Gone were the oversized t-shirts and sweatpants, replaced with tailored suits and more form-fitting clothing. He’d caught her staring on more than one occasion, usually choosing to point it out and poke fun at her until she was sure her cheeks would melt off, so since they’d arrived in Sicily, her gawking had become a lot stealthier. Or so she thought.

Take today for example. The couple relaxed on a set of sun loungers near the pool overlooking the sea, sharing a bottle of wine, enjoying the incredible views. Gunther, she suspected, was taking in his surroundings behind his dark sunglasses, seemingly paying her no mind. She slipped on her own sunglasses, laid back against the soft cushions, and though her head was pointed toward the water, her eyes were fixed to the left, on him. Always on him. He wore a white shirt today, a welcomed change from his usual darker shades, and the short sleeves hugged his biceps exquisitely, outlined his pecs and the hard plane of his abdomen. The black slacks he’d chosen were also form-fitting, hardly containing a soft bulge and his thick thighs. She licked her lips, rubbing her own thighs together, and she had no idea how noticeable her ogling had become until Gunther spoke up, not even looking in her direction.

“You know you don’t have to just stare,” he told her, sipping his wine. Her eyes widened behind shaded lenses. Finally he turned to her, grinning, adorable dimples on full display, and her heart fluttered. “You can admire me from over here.” She tilted her head, lips pursed, and the man collapsed into giggles before setting his wine glass on the small table nearby and curling his fingers.

“Oh, you want me to come over there?” she asked. “After you just made fun of me?” Gunther’s smile slowly faded and he tilted his own head, dipping his chin, firing his bright eyes at her, and yes, goddamn it, yes, she was gonna go over there after he just made fun of her.

She stood from her lounger and strolled over to her boyfriend in his. She gathered the loose skirt of her maxi dress in one hand, Gunther adjusting himself as he watched, and she smirked as she straddled his hips and lowered herself until her bare pussy settled on top of the growing lump in his pants. She made a show of lifting the dress to fan it out, and her boyfriend’s eyes descended, widening, and she instantly dropped the material, hiding the lewd scenery from both of them.

“You …” Gunther trailed off, shaking his head, pointing a finger at her.

“Me?” she questioned, brows rising. She grabbed his accusing hand with both of hers, purposefully lifting his finger to her lips. She pressed several soft kisses to the pad, which were followed by a long swipe of her hot, wet tongue from the base of his finger to the tip, and then she sucked the digit into her mouth. Gunther groaned, and it was half arousal, half surprise, and she grinned around his knuckle. “I just wanted to be … extra comfortable today,” she said. She pulled his middle finger into her mouth, gifting it the same treatment.

“And are you?” Gunther asked, eyes fixated on her lips and tongue as they bathed his hand. Her brows rose. “Comfortable,” he clarified.

She feigned consideration, cocking her head. “No, not really,” she replied. She released his hand, placing hers on his firm chest, and her hips leisurely began to rock against his stiffening dick. “You’ve been wearing all these … tight clothes recently,” she purred. “And your arms are just …” Gunther reached up to remove her sunglasses as she glanced down at his biceps, tossing them behind him, one hundred percent of his attention still zeroed in on her. Her hands drifted to his solid shoulders, the thin material of his shirt dampening from his own perspiration, on down to his arms. He watched as she bit her lip, his sharp eyes momentarily switching to her small, manicured hand while she tentatively wrapped her fingers around his bicep. He flexed the toned muscle, and her hips thrust against him, her juices soaking into his pants. “Sorry,” she breathed. “I just—”

“Do you want to kiss them?” Gunther interrupted, gently taking her chin between his fingers. Her blown pupils met his and she really thought he was going to start snickering because the man lived to embarrass her, but his eyes had been consumed by fire and filth. “You do, don’t you?” His smile was small and fleeting. He was rock solid between her legs, and her hips switched from a north-south direction to seductive circles, and it was Gunther’s turn to thrust. “Tell me what you want,” he said.

“I wanna kiss them,” the words tumbled out of her mouth, and she almost tried to catch them in the air so she could shove them back down her throat. Gunther’s brows lifted, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, pulling her down closer to him. “Sir,” she finished.

“That’s a good girl,” Gunther sighed, directing her to his arm. She licked her lips and when she was close enough, she kissed his solid bicep, licked, sucked, nipped. Gunther moaned, driving his hips into her, and she was reminded to move her own. Hot bursts of air ghosted over his skin as she panted, his hand sliding from her face so he could tangle it within her hair. “Tell me what else you want,” he whispered.

She lifted her head after a few moments of mouthing his muscle, their eyes meeting once more. As turned on as she was, she was still able to feel her heart swell with the love she had for her Ring General. “I want … I want you to know how beautiful you are,” she answered just as quietly. Gunther rolled his eyes, a smile growing, cheeks reddening, and he tried to lay his head back on the lounger, but it was her turn to grab his chin. “Don’t do that,” she drawled. He became serious all at once. “You’ve always been beautiful.” She moved across his chest, delighting in the subtle squirm of his body under hers. “Even when you thought you weren’t,” she went on, lips caressing the opposite bicep. The muscle contracted, and she whimpered. Gunther suddenly grabbed her face with both hands and brought it within an inch of his, and they were both out of breath despite a lack of exertion. He searched her face, ending on her eyes, and she melted in his embrace, mumbling, “Sir,” a millisecond before his skillful lips captured hers.

Her hands snuck under the tight white shirt that had started all of this and she lifted, revealing more delicious skin, and Gunther swallowed her moan greedily. He sat them up without warning, arm locking around her waist to keep her stable and in place. She completed her quest of removing his shirt, hands returning to his chest, only this time she added resistance. Because for a moment—just a quick second, I swear—she wanted to look at him, to admire him, as it were. And as she was regarding him with hungry eyes, he pinched the material of her dress between his fingers and deliberately pulled it down until her breasts popped out. She wasn’t even aware he’d done anything until he flicked her hardening nipples, her body quivering, and their eyes met, and hers were hooded, and his were infinite. Their lips collided, sparks igniting and flickering between them just as they had since the first time they’d kissed. She reached between them, and Gunther snatched her wrists, holding them up.

“No, no,” he admonished, shaking his head. Her heart pounded—had she done something wrong? “You have to make yourself come first.”

She barely caught her jaw from falling into his lap, smiling instead, and resumed rolling her hips, having stopped … sometime. Gunther had that effect on her, always had. He held her wrists tightly, painfully, and the ferocity of her riding kicked into overdrive. He pressed their damp foreheads together. She bit her lip, and she tried—she tried her pretty hardest, anyway—not to avert her gaze from his debauched eyes, but his biceps were like magnets, drawing her attention to them.

“You want to kiss them again?” Gunther breathed. “Hmm?” She nodded, not trusting herself—or maybe she just didn’t remember how—to use her words. His lips grazed hers as he uttered, “You want to worship them?” She couldn’t stop her jaw this time, and her exhale echoed throughout the whole of Sicily, and her hips jerked almost violently. Just like that, her orgasm was easily within reach. “I want to hear you say it,” he continued, tone even lower than before. “Properly.”

With a one track mind and a direct map to the gold at the end of the rainbow, she knew the path of least resistance was the way to go. Her wrists were screaming, she thought maybe she’d have bruises the following day, but why did it feel so good? “I wanna kiss them,” she divulged, and then, much more hushed, “and I wanna worship them … sir.” For the cherry on top, her tongue snaked out of her mouth to lick at his lips. “My Ring General.”

Gunther smiled fondly at the monster he’d created, relinquishing his grip on her wrists. The wrists that had just moments ago been burning under his fingers now seemed to be completely pain free, as her eyes so slowly drifted to the muscle in question. Everything was suddenly in slow motion—Gunther making a fist, raising his arm and bending it at the elbow, bicep bulging. Her teeth clenched and her mouth watered, and a brief moment passed before she latched onto his arm like a vampire devouring their first victim. And it was only seconds after that that she came, scream muffled by the dense tissue in her mouth, and her eyes closed as she rode the waves of pleasure which wracked her body with tiny shudders.

She was still in the throes of her orgasm when Gunther reached between them once more to open his pants, unleashing his rock solid cock. She licked her lips, preparing to raise up and impale herself on that magnificent member, when Gunther effortlessly switched their positions, manhandling her like he knew she liked, and she giggled until he had her how he wanted her—on her hands and knees, bare ass poised, breasts swaying freely—and she arched her back, bucking against him. Wait … when did he take my dress off?

“I thought you might want to watch the pretty scenery while I fuck you,” Gunther told her, sliding the head of his cock along her weeping slit.

It was a nice sentiment, but she could have been in a back alley somewhere for all the attention she paid once he entered her. She’d never been filled so completely before the Ring General, like his dick had been personally selected for her pussy by the universe itself. She collapsed to her elbows after only a few deep pumps, still stimulated from coming only minutes beforehand, and Gunther wrapped her hair around his hand, yanking, and she grunted, reluctantly rising back to her hands.

“Please,” she whispered, “please, sir. I can’t …”

“Oh, yes, you can,” Gunther laughed, hand like a vice on her hip as his thrusts became almost savage. “You think I would be fucking you if you couldn’t? Hmm?”

“No, sir,” she whimpered, entire body jarred by his viscous pumps.

“Your Ring General?”

She came. Just like that, she was clenching around Gunther’s cock, quivering, and though there had been time between both orgasms, the intensity of this one made them seem like one long orgasm. There was just something … something about the way he said those two words that lit her world on fire and had her juices dripping down her thighs.

“Such a sweet girl coming for me again,” Gunther praised, and her smile alone could have powered a small country until the end of time, maybe even after that, but it was gone quickly as he continued fucking her. She wasn’t sure how much more her pussy could take.

“Thank you, sir,” she breathed.

“My sweet girl,” he mumbled. “Worships her Ring General.”

“Fuck yes,” she purred.

“Where does my sweet girl want my cum?”

“I don’t care where you come … I just wanna be able to watch.”

Gunther was silent after that, squeezing her hips and riding her like the world was going to end. He pulled out suddenly, repositioning her again, this time on her back. He lifted one of her legs so he could look at her pussy still drenched in her own cum while he jerked his glistening cock. A few rough strokes later and he was launching rope after rope of his thick, sticky sweetness across her stomach, the last few less powerful ones painting her pussy. She beamed as he hovered over her, his hands pressing into the cushions on either side of her head.

“Never a moment’s peace with you,” he said.

She snickered. “That’s why you love me.”

#wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe x reader #smut #gunther x reader #gunther fic #gunther fanfic #wwe smut #wwe fic #wwe kinklist #wwe fandom #wwe gunther x reader #wwe gunther #gunther wwe #gunther

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madhatterbri · 1 month ago

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Can't Let Go | D.P.

Summary: Hey boo! This might be a weird request or idea but could it be possible to have a Damian priest x reader where she's dated someone in the past and for some reason Guther pops into my head whenever I think about it and maybe there was a messy break up now that she is happy with Damian, Guther is doing everything to try and get her back?

Requested by: @msmeganfloyd

Damian Priest Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @hotwheels1108 @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts @missbmc94 @surdelcielo @hodgepodge-musings @eringobragh420

Don't date your co-workers. Or at least do a trial run before you do.

This mantra was repeated to you constantly when you worked in the indies. People would laugh, but you never really understood the seriousness behind it. Until you broke up with Gunther.

Things were messy. He was interested in his career, and you were on the back burner. Every night felt like a fight to get his attention. It was always a losing battle. Exhausted and defeated, you finally broke it off.

Damian was there for you when it happened. You were on his doorstep within minutes, crying your eyes out. He held you as he cried. The Puerto Rican was constantly giving you advice to deal with him, and now it was all over.

Gunther didn't seem to mind until he happened to see Damian holding your hand. Never one to like being bested, he had to try and win you back. After all, Damian was just street trash.

Flowers arrived unexpectedly at your door on days when you flew home from RAW. There was never any note left with them. You took a picture of them and posted them on Instagram. A caption was left saying that this is how a woman should be treated.

Damian called you asking who sent the flowers. Your happiness was short-lived when he informed you that he hadn't sent you flowers. You deleted the post and threw the flowers away. It wasn't long for you to discover who sent the flowers.

Late one night, your phone dinged. You sighed and shifted out of Damian's arms. He stirred awake and sighed.

"Just ignore it."

"I can't ignore it. What if it's my parents or one of my friends?" You asked.

He sighed dramatically and went to the restroom. The number that messaged you was not saved to your phone. One of your friends probably used a bartenders phone asking you to pick them up. The message was not from your friend.

I see you liked the flowers I sent you. A shame your "boyfriend" couldn't surprise you like that.

- G.

You sat up in your bed and turned on the light. The message was still displayed on your phone. Your mind tried to wrap around any possible reasoning on why he would reach out to you.

"You okay?" Damian's deep voice asked from the doorway. He leaned against the wooden doorframe. His leg crossed over the other.

You shook your head and lifted your phone for him to take. He grabbed your phone and read the message. The anger in his brown eyes flashed quickly.

"You serious? Him?" He asked and rubbed a hand over his face. Damian couldn't believe he sent stuff to your home and now messaged you.

"I don't know why he is doing this. I haven't said two words to him. I promise. Damian, I -"

"Know. I know. Do you want me to message him back? Maybe he'll get the point."

You nodded.

Damian started to read what he was writing. As angry as he was, Gunther was still a co-worker. "I've moved on, and I think you should too."

After the message was sent, Damian blocked your ex. Your boyfriend wrapped you in his arms once more before drifting off to sleep. You eventually managed to fall asleep hoping this would be the end. It wasn't.

On RAW the next week, Gunther came out to check on you after the match. You took a nasty tumble and landed on the mat below. Some of the medics surrounded you and asked you questions. A shadow suddenly stood over you and helped you up. Thinking it was Damian, you turned to look at him. Your heart dropped when Gunther had you in his arms.

"Gunther, we are broken up!"

Before Gunther could say anything, your boyfriend appeared next to you. He shot Gunther a nasty look before taking you away from the others. Damian carried you bridal style backstage.

The next week was the final showdown between Damian and Gunther. Damian had his hands on your waist as he sat on a storage crate. You laughed at his ridiculous story from one of his shows when he was in the indies.

"He told you he was going to fly?" You asked.

"Yep," Damian answered with a chuckle. "Just before he fell off the top turnbuckle. I had to keep from laughing."

You continued to laugh. This feeling was amazing. Laughing around Gunther was rare. Damian would try to make you laugh whenever he could. The air suddenly shifter.

Damian muttered under his breath, and you felt his grip tighten around you. You rolled your eyes, hoping it was someone else. Anyone else, but him.

"So happy to see you've moved on so quickly."

The tone was dry. Gunther was not happy. You turned around slowly. His arms were crossed over his chest. Brown eyes burned in anger at seeing you two so cute and happy.

"Well, sometimes you just know when you want to be with a guy that wants to be with you," you informed him.

His eyes drifted to Damian's hands on you. "A rebound. I think you were trying to say rebound."

Damian took a deep breath. He was trying to control his anger. "Just walk away, pendejo. This doesn't have to get ugly."

Gunther ignored Damian. His harsh gaze lingered on you.

"I made a mistake in letting you go. You belong with me."

Your heart skipped a beat. The person you were months ago longed to hear these words. The person you were now wanted nothing to do with him. Just like he didn't want to give you attention back then.

"I belong where I am wanted with Damian."

Gunther's jaw clenched. That one hurt him.

"Wipe the smile off your face, street trash. This isn't over."

Damian scowled. "Yeah, it is."

Gunther walks away. You let out a breath you didn't know that you were holding.

Damian rubbed your back softly. "You okay?"

"I am now."

#fanfiction #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest x you #damian priest fanfic #damian priest fanfiction #damian priest one shot

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amywritesthings · 10 months ago

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silver underground. | chapter 23

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k Summary: the night of day 163 - also known as the final confession

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - angst, mentions of death, sensuality, levi is sad(tm) but we are finally giving him what he needs! Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

As soon as Captain Levi hauls himself upright on the saddle of his horse, he’s gone.

Like a bat out of hell, his horse takes off towards the direction of the old Survey Corps headquarters.

Dust and dirt from the hasty exit licks at the tip of your boots.

The rest of the Levi squad had only finished settling on their own horses, with you the last to remain on the forest floor.

“He seems eager to get back,” Petra states with a slow apprehension to her tone.

Oluo grunts in reply, and you know.

You can feel his eyes locked onto the back of your skull.

Asking—

What happened between the two of you?

Why do you remember the outcome of the last mission?

What aren’t you telling us?

The myriad of questions are not lost on you, because you ask them yourself.

After all, you were barely given a chance to explain.

To understand.

Even before the rest of Levi squad made it to the fall site, the tension between you and Levi was palpable.

The way Levi stared at you, held you, in the aftermath.

Trapped between the before times and what you’ve been reduced to before his very eyes —

“James, are you good?” Gunther asks, softer this time, but it's all white noise.

Figure out if you mean it.

If you really do remember — any of this.

Levi's voice is the only one registering in your mind.

If you think you know me, then say it with your whole damn chest and hold nothing back.

You do. You know him.

Captain Levi.

Child of the Underground.

Captain of the Special Operations Squad.

Though you know him as something else; something profound; something too devastating to lose.

The one who almost got away.

Before you can say a word, your body moves on autopilot: you shove your foot into a worn stirrup and jump up and onto your horse with the reins gripped in both hands.

Snapping them with newfound urgency, you leave the remaining members of your squad behind to bridge the gap between you and Levi.

Go.

Wind sweeps your emerald cloak like wings behind you as you ride, urging you horse faster, faster, faster—

And you inhale.

The more that you breathe, the more that you push yourself forward, your body feels less like a foreign entity.

Your fingers flex without a detached delay.

The leather against your palm feels right, like—

…like you’ve finally woken up on the right side of the bed again.

By the time you reach the headquarter courtyard, his midnight horse is already tied to a banister at the stable.

In a rushed dismount from your saddle, your shaking hands hurriedly tie the knot around the same banister and rush towards the open doors.

As you run inside your shoes switch from crunch to click, from dirt to concrete floor.

The sky, once swirling in uncertain grays, opens to a light rain.

An incoming storm echoes through cavernous hallways, turning grayed stone to black.

Everywhere you look, he isn’t there — the foyer, the rest areas, the abandoned offices —

"C'mon, c'mon..."

As you turn the corner towards the kitchen, your eager ears pick up the leisure pace of two sets of boots.

You move faster, hoping to see that familiar head of raven hair.

To your surprise, you find Hange and Moblit at the very end of the corridor chatting after a meal.

When they notice your arrival, Moblit gives a little half-smile of recognition while the Section Commander holds out their arms, eager to greet you.

“Hey, hey! She’s back from all the action!” Hange yelps with excitement. “Now tell me, how—”

“Where’s Levi?”

Your sharp question interrupts Hange’s cheerful greeting.

In this light, Hange appears so much clearer to you. Gone is the fuzzy confusion; their outline now just as sharp as their wit and wonder.

(Something like a found safe space, warm and comforting.)

“Levi?” they question. “Huh, I didn’t think he was back.”

So they don’t know yet.

He didn’t say anything.

But he's here, you know he made it back here—

Urgently, you step towards the two.

“I need to know where he is. It’s urgent.”

“Did something happen?” Moblit gently presses.

“I remember,” you state, as if that’ll explain anything. They blink in tandem. “I don’t know how, but it—”

Your hand rises to your mouth, covering it and giving yourself a moment to think.

Except the problem is that you need to say it — thinking, second guessing, slows this down.

Focus.

Your hand drops, and your voice says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Hange — you and I once drank Moblit so horrendously under the table that he was bedridden for two days.”

Hange’s boot squeaks against the floor in an echo as they stop dead in their tracks.

“And whenever we meet in the city, Moblit and I order dumplings from that one nice old woman just outside the hospital. I think — you get the most basic order and always make sure to bring something back for Hange.”

Moblit’s eyes shoot wide. “Whoa, that—”

You hold a hand out to placate Hange, who looks like they’re two seconds away from screeching with elation.

“I can’t explain to you know I know all of this, and I don’t have time to figure that out right now. It’s just sort of word-vomiting out of my damn mouth the longer I let myself talk — so I don’t want to stop talking, and I’ll figure out the details and the rest with the two of you later, but it—”

It could disappear at any minute.

You can’t breathe.

It’s so hard to breathe, but do your best to gulp an inhale anyway.

“Please, just… I need – to talk – to Levi.”

Before I forget again.

Before he thinks I’ve forgotten him all over again.

Both Hange and Moblit stare in a haze of surprise.

By the time you open your mouth to plead a third time, Hange holds up a hand.

Their expression darkens with a seriousness they so rarely possess.

“If he’s not by Erwin’s office or with us, then chances are he’s in his bedroom."

His bedroom.

Relief floods your system.

“Right,” you exhale, jolted by adrenaline. “Thanks, Hange.”

With that, you speed off in the opposite direction.

Up the stairwell.

Down the hallway.

Be here, be here, be here.

Fist raised, you lunge forward towards the wooden door—

Yet the door opens freely, and you’re trapped staring into the eyes of Levi Ackerman.

He blinks away his surprise to that evergreen mask of indifference — resignation?

There’s no edge to his shoulders. They’re sagged.

Lowering your fist, you’re met with silence.

(You’ve come to hate silence more than anything.)

So you speak first.

“Can we please—”

“Yeah.”

No pleas heard. No begging to be done.

“Yeah, might as well.”

Levi simply agrees.

The hand gripping the edge pulls the door towards him, conceding with an invitation inside.

Terrified doesn’t even begin to cover it — you push your way through, only to pause when your mind begins to recognize just how familiar this room feels with the light dance of rain outside an open window.

Everything is so neat. Clean.

(And in the back of your mind, a voice says it’s exactly how you left it.)

The door locks shut, and the rest of the world ceases to exist.

Levi casually walks past you, pulling a chair from his desk and flipping it to face his bed.

He sinks down onto it, knees spread apart while his arm rests casually over the back.

“Start, then.”

His voice is guarded, shortened, as his eyes watch you from under wet, black fringe.

You stare, twisting your fingers around and against each other to self-soothe your nerves.

Your nostrils expand as you muster the courage to speak.

Yet when you do, your voice is smaller.

(So much could go wrong in one single moment.)

“I’ll start, just…"

"Just what?"

"Don’t shut me out.”

His eyes narrow. “I told you I wouldn’t.”

“I know, but this is different,” you argue weakly, wetting your lips.

“Try me,” he flatly goads. “I told you from the beginning—”

“—that you weren’t going to hand us our memories, fuck, I know already,” you bite to chomp off the rest of his statement, tired of hearing him push further distance between you. “Let me talk this bullshit out at you, alright? Not with you — but at you. Because the more I talk, the more things come back — it’s like my fucking unconsciousness is working faster than the rest of my body.”

His jaw clenches, but he says nothing.

When a few moments have passed, you take several steps forward to meet him — but turn to sit on the edge of his bed.

(Like you know belong there.)

He stops moving entirely, brow knit as he watches you descend.

Start, then.

“Before everyone swooped in, I told you that I thought I knew who I was. But… the more time goes by, it isn't a maybe anymore."

Your eyes remain on your hands, noting the calluses and age-old lines of scars across your fingers and palms.

"And the longer time goes on, the more I talk, it becomes so much clearer."

Remember.

“I never knew my birth mother,” you continue, “not really. As far I know, she died when I was small. A lot of the details are still fuzzy, but some other sick bastard took her place. I think it's so hazy because there’s not much to remember about her. Mother... cared only about winning money."

Lost in your own thoughts, you drop your chin to your chest and exhale.

"I might have had siblings. None of them actually looked like me. They were just... stuck, too. And so many of them died."

All nameless faces.

All battle fodder for the almighty coin.

“I knew that the only way to live was to fight, so I fought. Hard. Every damn day until I couldn't stand on my two feet sometimes. That’s how we met.”

When you lift your eyes to stare him, he doesn’t react.

His nostrils flare in a twitch, but Levi remains in control of himself.

“My mother pit us against each other for money,” you continue softly. “That’s why I kept seeing this small, skinny boy in my dreams at a pub. For weeks, over and over, it was you. I gave you food — I wanted a friend. And…”

You trail off, chewing on your next words very carefully.

“And you gave me that. A friend. A chance to join your gang and live a life that was mine.”

Absently, your hand raises from your lap to your neck.

In the hopes of quelling your budding anxiety, your fingertip runs along the delicate silver chain at your sternum.

An old habit that won’t die, even in a state of memory loss.

Yet you catch him, right as it happens:

Levi’s hardened eyes shamelessly drop from yours — to stare at your fingers.

Your fingertip dips and circles the gray gem, mindful of its smooth texture.

Moments pass.

His eyes do not lift.

A familiar warmth spreads through your chest.

“My necklace.”

Then his eyes raise, as if suddenly aware of where he’s staring.

“You gave it to me, didn’t you?”

You see him in your mind’s eye: a younger version of Levi sitting there, embarrassed to be offering such a delicate, sentimental gift to another person.

His gangly, teenage self overlaps the exhausted, battle-worn Levi across from you in his chair.

Both fighting.

Both surviving.

You feel so small as you try to remember the finite detail. Hitting a wall the longer the silence stretches, you're unable to pinpoint the exact memory.

Your nose scrunches in frustration, searching for that train of thought like a life line.

“It was for my fifteenth— No, maybe my seventeenth—”

“Eighteenth.”

His voice is barely a murmur.

Levi’s eyes do not leave your face.

“It was your eighteenth birthday.”

He manages to capture the memory eluding you before it can float away and dissolve to the wind.

A smile loaded with relief passes your lips.

It’s only a small nudge in the right direction, but it’s all you need for the memory to blossom like a flower on the surface in Spring.

The image of yesteryear blooms—

White, billowing sleeves rolled to his elbows.

A cinched vest kept his clothes from flying off his small frame.

“With a lot of alcohol.”

“Yeah.”

“And a lot of extra cleaning the next morning.”

He exhales, slow and drawn out. “Something like that.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, emotions overwhelming you.

“Ever since Hange gave the necklace back to me, I can’t help but touch it any time I feel stressed or panicked. It’s like all of those bad feelings, they… go away. Disappear like the way titans do.”

Worries, gone like ash.

A ghostlike sensation runs against your lips, forcing you to reach and run along their seam.

Even if it's far away, you see it: a tilted head; black fringe.

Even now, you feel it: his lips so close; eyes wandering; the loss of reason.

“And you… you kissed me that day.”

Your first.

Both of your firsts.

When you smile, you notice then: his knuckles against the back of the chair turn translucent white.

“Wrong,” the captain tightly states.

Wait.

You freeze, fear settling in your belly.

“What?” you question. “But... but you did.”

He’s gripping the wooden backing so hard it could snap.

“I didn’t,” he forces out. “...you kissed me.”

Oh.

He’s not shutting you out.

Elation sweeps over your mind like a soothing balm as memories of pawing hands and inexperienced desire enters the forefront—

Finally clear as day.

Do you regret it, his voice whispers in the abyss.

“I never regretted that,” you reassure him, like you can finally answer him with absolute honesty. “Though technically you leaned in, and I ran with it.”

He huffs in disbelief. "Yeah?"

You smile with certainty. "Yeah."

Kisses between you two were just the tip of the iceberg. You know that now.

You’ve seen it, felt it, tasted it—

In this very bedroom.

After a pause, the captain’s voice comes out strained.

“Of all the damn memories, that’s the one that stands out?”

You can’t help but huff with exhausted amusement.

“It isn’t the only one," you reply. "There are a million fragments I’m still piecing together and not everything makes sense, but there are some things that are just so vivid to me now. like…”

“Like?”

“Like our friends.”

Emotion flickers across his expression as he sits up further.

It’s like he’s been waiting to hear the names of your deceased comrades on your lips.

“You remember—”

“Isabel,” you whisper. “And Furlan. Yeah, it’s… bits and pieces just like everything else, but we grew up with them. I remember how we'd all spend hours zipping around that damn stolen ODM gear like we owned the joint. Somehow four kids managed to make an entire home in the Underground. And I wasn’t — I couldn’t be there when they—”

Profound sadness hits you like a ton of bricks, clipping your words.

I couldn't be there when they died.

The picture isn't complete, but you remember the sinking feeling in your belly when he had told you. So much time had gone by — you can vaguely pick out Isabel's wild red hair and recall thinking maybe the sun looked just like that. Furlan's infectious, warm laugh echoes in the back of your mind.

And you nearly joined them as a memory.

(No wonder why Levi was so angry with you at the start of it all.)

The rain continues to tap against the stone walls outside as another stretch of silence befalls the room.

One of Levi’s hands reaches for his face and runs down the length of it, tugging the skin as he goes.

His eyes drop to the floor, his dampened fringe shielding them from view.

“Un-fucking-believable…”

Your brow furrows.

“What?”

“This.”

That same hand sweeps a frustrated gesture between the two of you.

“This shouldn’t be possible,” he grunts. “You hit your goddamn head almost a year ago and — and you nearly did the same fucking thing again today, and you’re telling me that’s all it took to suddenly wake you up?”

The harshness of his words cause you to rear your head back.

Hange nearly ran to you with open arms when you told them you remembered.

You had thought perhaps Levi would do the same once you had proven your mind to him.

Yet he’s reluctant.

Angry.

“That isn’t what I’m saying,” you retort, narrowing your gaze. “I tried telling you months ago that my memories were fragmented, but you didn’t want to hear it. What, were you hoping I wouldn’t remember?”

Instantly his eyes are back on you. “I didn’t say that.”

“It sure feels like that, Levi,” you snip. “Was it because of our fight?”

The whites of his eyes explode.

“Our what?”

“Before we went on the last expedition,” you clarify under your breath. “When you tried sidelining me with counsel to Erwin. I asked you why you didn’t trust me to fight at your side, but it wasn’t that you didn’t trust me.”

What is the excuse you always, always, use?

It was such a vicious question in the heat of the moment.

Levi doesn’t hide his surprise this time.

Although he doesn’t answer your question, you can see it:

The same turmoil that pushed him to the brink of shouting, coming back to haunt him.

Because if I lose you this time, then that’s it!

The rattle of the storm increases in volume right outside his open window, billowing the sheer curtains from the wall.

You promised.

You promised him so many things that day.

Nothing will happen to me.

I’m not going anywhere.

“I won’t die on you, right?” you say to yourself, as if in a daze — trapped between the present and the past. “Because if I did, you’d drag my ass from Hell yourself.”

His face twists, contorts in pain, only for a second.

He catches himself at the precipice before he can truly react, swallowing it down—

And then it hits.

You understand what he isn't saying.

“You haven't stopped blaming yourself,” you realize out loud in a bewildered whisper. “Even after saving my ass a second time, you're still holding onto that guilt like it was a choice you had made instead of me.”

You stand abruptly from the bed and cross the room towards him.

Levi immediately jumps out of his chair like a cat that’s been dunked in water, terrified you’ll push him back under.

No matter how compelled you are to be near him, he repels.

“It wasn't your fault,” you urge, softer this time. “Look at me. Levi — it wasn't your fault.”

His bluish-gray eyes narrow in defense. “Don’t start this—”

“When I fell—”

“No.”

“Levi,” you chastise. “You said we could talk.”

“I did,” he hotly retorts. “Not about that day.”

The air in the room shifts.

“Anything but that day,” he repeats, softer this time. “Please. I just —”

Struggling with what he wishes to say, his chin drops to his chest.

“...despite all my best efforts, despite whatever plans I put in place, I watched you fall in the same shitty forest not once, but twice, like it's a sick fucking dream I get to repeat over and over until I learn.”

All of your facial muscles smooth with sadness. “Except there wasn't anything to learn because you did nothing wrong. Levi, you caught me.”

“But not the first time,” he says simply. “Not when it mattered.”

The way he speaks about himself…

Humanity’s Strongest, reduced to one perceived failure, as if he could rewrite history and control your mistakes.

Timidly you slide a boot forward, testing his resolve.

Levi doesn’t move. His head remains bowed.

“You have spent months punishing yourself for something that I chose to do,” you urge under your breath in a damn-near plea. “What is it that Erwin tells us to do? Dedicate our hearts?"

"Don't use that shit against me, James," he warns.

Raising your hands in surrender, you shake your head wildly. "I'm not. Believe me, I'm not, but you need to understand it was my choice. I wanted to save the others. I wanted my life to matter."

You see his jaw clench like he's forcing himself to hold back what he wants to say.

You step another boot forward.

"Six months ago when I first saw you in that hospital wing in Trost, when you tried to rile me up, it was—”

“An error in judgment," he interrupts.

“Exactly what I needed,” you finish over him.

His head lifts.

You meet, eye to eye.

“I couldn’t understand why I was so transfixed by you,” you continue softly with the utmost sincerity, hoping he will hear you out. “You walked out of that room and all I wanted was to know you. To understand you, like you held this invisible key this entire time that could unlock whatever the hell it was that I was missing. But all you ever did was pull away from me, hide from me, trying to convince me you were some villain in my life—”

“James.”

Abruptly Levi steps forward as if ready to walk straight through you—

—like you’re nothing but a ghost’s apparition.

Instead he is met with living, breathing warmth.

Your eyes can’t leave when his breath tickles the skin of your face.

Levi stares back, entranced by the color of your eyes.

Infected, plagued, by the reality that stands before you both.

One false move, and it’ll be a repeat of the conversation in the tree tops that made him retreat.

“I have tried to keep you safe almost my entire life," Levi murmurs, and you can practically feel the vibrations of his voice rocking through your body.

“And you did.”

“I didn’t.”

“Levi, you—”

“I pushed you into danger—”

“Pushed?”

“—and I am sorry—”

Your hand shoots out, turning his cheek to look you dead in the eye.

“Stop it.”

Levi freezes, looking so much more uncertain now that he did ten minutes ago.

“Stop," you repeat with exasperation. “You're not listening to me. I'm here. I'm right here.”

He swallows to coat his throat, motion thick. His neck bobs.

"I don't know how else to convince you it isn't a fluke," you continue, voice cracking. "You won't let yourself see me. You won't let yourself believe I'm not dead. Levi—"

And just when you think you’ve lost him—

He turns towards the warmth.

His cheek nuzzles your open palm, eyes wearily slipping shut, as if helpless to do so.

You’re holding the first face you remember and the last face you’ve seen —

The partner you left in the forest so long ago.

The man that wants more than he’ll ever allow himself to take.

Levi's confession is barely audible:

“...I don't want it to be too good to be true again."

The floorboard creaks as his foot shifts towards you, angling himself towards you.

He inhales slowly through his nose, relishing in a private thought, before shaking his head. His hair nearly tickles your forehead.

When he doesn't open his eyes, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

If he won't see you—

Slowly, cautiously, you reach for his hand until yours curls over it.

At first his fingers flinch in your grasp, his blue-gray eyes snapping wide to watch.

Then eventually they relax, surrendering.

Higher and higher, you skim it past your ribcage and pull it up to your left breast.

His arm tenses, eyes shooting wide.

You remain relaxed. Focused.

“What is it you feel?”

“I don’t under—”

“Just… pause, for once in your life, and tell me what it is you feel.”

You press his palm harder against your chest, your heart hammering beneath your skin.

“Please.”

Albeit apprehensive, Levi doesn’t move away.

His eyes dart to your lips, your sternum, until they lock onto your joined hands.

“You.”

Strained — he chokes on his response.

“I feel… you.”

As if pulled by gravity Levi steadily leans closer, brushing your nose with his.

His jaw clenches, the muscles taut in his mouth, before his palm flattens of his volition against your chest.

Your eyes flutter, relishing in his proximity.

You turn to him, seeking out his body heat.

For the first time in months, you feel it with such certainty.

Familiarity.

His free hand rises to your cheek, cupping the side of your face.

You suck in a sharp breath between parted lips, and he makes a small noise like he’s agonized over being apart from you.

“Every time that I’ve been given the choice, I always choose you,” you confess softly, a mere whisper. “I run right towards you even when I don’t know you. You are the only thing that has ever made sense to me in this world.”

There — you memorize the slide of his calloused palm, running gently along the height of your cheekbone.

Slow, as if mesmerized by your skin’s softness.

Shakily, you continue and choose the point of no return.

“Tell me you don't want me anymore, and I’ll stop running to you. If I have somehow misjudged you and what you might still feel—”

“Say it.”

Levi’s voice engulfs you — the heavy baritone, barely touching your lips.

His expression darkens like he wrestles with two separate trains of thought.

Conflict etched in his brow, he swallows once more and speaks with a tenderness you only remember in dreams.

“Say you remember me.”

After all this time, you've waited for the puzzle to connect.

The pieces that were once scattered now sew themselves together; anew.

He asks without asking.

You answer without uncertainty.

“I remember you.”

As if mesmerized by the curves of your body, Levi’s hand glides from your chest up your throat—

Until his fingers cradle the back of your head.

His other hand remains on the side of your face, holding you as though you could turn into water at any moment.

"Say it again."

You don't hesitate to obey his command.

"I remember you."

To make your point, you turn your chin into his hand — eyes locked — to press a gentle kiss to his palm.

He nearly hisses from the physical contact.

"Again."

Levi's breath slides into your mouth like a phantom kiss of his own.

(Touch starved after so many months apart.)

“I remember you, Levi Ackerman. I remember you, I remember you, I remember—”

You stop talking when he leans in, lips barely brushing yours.

Your breath halts.

His is ragged. Soft.

Then he speaks, as if to pray after a long night of war:

“Dirty trick."

That’s all it takes.

Levi reaches out whip-fast, using the palm against your skull to pull you into a searing, life-altering, mind-numbing kiss.

You go pliant against him, melting like candle wax, willing to take anything he’ll give.

Lips press and pull, his breath hot on your tongue.

His hands search you as if he doesn't know where to touch first — your face, your neck, your shoulder — until he decides to loop his forearm at the small of your back to dip and lift you without ever breaking the kiss.

You jump until your knees bracket his hips, and he pulls you flush to his body.

Levi hastily kicks the chair out of his way to carry you directly to his bed.

And after all this time, you feel it — know it — remember it.

The absence dissipates.

The world finally starts to turn.

You have found your way home.

author's note:

...hehe. So how are we feeling, Levi Nation? Let me know in the comments!

Thank you for your patience as I took a little break this summer to write some modern!Levi with Press Four for More Options. To readers old and new, I am so grateful for your encouragement and support. (Every reblog gives this writer wings.)

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic #aot fanfic #aot fic #snk fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #aot x reader #snk x reader

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the-best-ads-worker · 1 year ago

Note

*Shadow snakes up to Gunther and kisses him on the cheek, handing him a heart shaped box of chocolates*

Happy Valentine’s Day babe~

Gunther looked at shadow surprised and smiled. “Aww thanks baby doll.” He pulled out a medium sized purple box. “Open it up babe.”

#ask gunther questions #rp

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 2 months ago

Note

Might be an odd question, but let’s be real, ghouls are pretty unique physically; no noses, inhuman eyes, ~ribbed for her pleasure~. Do you think a Ghoul Kink is a known phenomenon and, if so, which ghouls take advantage of it? Are there any that avoid a partner who wants a ghoul specifically so they aren’t objectified?

Fun ask! Ghoul fetishization is definitely a thing, even in canon. I've seen it mentioned a lot in fan works, but there's also at least a couple mentions of ghoul fuckery/fetishization in the games. New Vegas, especially, is pretty forward with the idea that there are people who want to get down with ghouls. You can recruit Beatrix Russell, the hired gun employed by the Followers of the Apocalypse, to work as a sex worker at the Atomic Wrangler, as the twins who run the place are looking for a ghoul for a high-paying regular client who has specifically requested one. There are also multiple ghoul sex workers employed at Gomorrah, both male and female, which implies demand for sex with ghouls on the Strip. Medical records can be found that note possible physical side effects of fucking a ghoul, which means it happens frequently enough for doctors to note common outcomes.

For the record, I'm looking at this more from the angle of pure fetishization (bad, dehumanizing) rather than just having a higher than average level of attraction to ghouls (acceptable, sexy). When it comes to the latter, I don't think most folks would have an issue.

Ranking Ghouls' Thoughts on Ghoul Fetishists

Will fuck a ghoul fetishist, doesn't see an issue: Michael Masters, Patchwork, Andy Scabb, Kyle Edwards (though he has a bad experience if he does so, which changes his mind), Dean Domino

Might fuck a fetishist, but keeps their guard up about it: Ahzrukhal (someone being that into it kinda spoils it for him), Gob, Murphy, Snowflake, Hadrian, Rotface, Eddie Winter, Edward Deegan, Tommy Lonegan

Avoids interacting with fetishists: Barrett, Dr. Barrows, Charon, Crowley, Quinn, Roy Phillips, Winthrop, Grecks, Harland, Jason Bright, Joshua Graham, Raul Tejada, Arlen Glass, Ham, John Hancock, Kent Connolly, Vault-Tec Rep, Captain Zao, Gunther Jenkins, Cooper Howard

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wrestlersownmyheart · 9 days ago

Text

"Yeet Of Fate" Chapter 9 (Jey Uso X Female Reader)

Title: Yeet Of Fate Pairing: Jey Uso X Reader Summary: When you, an aspiring author, decide to take your skills to the world of wrestling, you decide to shadow and tag along with a couple of wrestlers to learn more about the sport for your upcoming book debut. None other than the Royal Rumble winner, Jey Uso, is the male wrestler you will be working with, and needless to say, that makes you nervous. You tell yourself, things will stay platonic. You tell yourself that…

Jey Uso is at the top of his game, the last thing he needs is a fan trailing around after him and fan girling all over the place. He wants to do his job, bask in the glory of it and call it a day. Not have to answer questions all day long from a wannabe writer. That's how he feels, until he meets Y/N face to face. She isn't what he expected. And he doesn't like to be wrong. As beautiful as she is… He will keep things platonic. He tells himself that…

Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: Angst. Lots of it. Don't kill me for this chapter, please, lol. Also, it's on the short side. Sorry!

Chapter 9

Jey sat by the hospital bed, waiting on Y/N to awaken. She was cleaned up and stitched, and had been placed in a hospital room for observation. It'd been nearly an hour since she lost consciousness and he was worried sick.

Truth be told he'd done a lot of thinking in that hour.

Something had to give.

The title…

He was so proud to be the owner of it. But… the target that came along with it was a pricey one. Just chasing the title had got his brother–his twin–hurt. The title reign itself had already gotten Y/N hurt. Badly.

And giving up the title would do no good. Gunther had, both figuratively and literally, gotten a taste of blood and he would not let up now. Y/N was in danger as long as she was with him.

It had to end.

He pressed his fist to his forehead–a nervous tick he had.

How could he end it? He was in love with her. He actually was really toying with the notion of marrying her. But if he did, the danger would escalate for her.

No, it had to end.

He knew that now.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You're eyes fluttered open slowly, and you took in your surroundings. You were in a hospital room, in a bed. You turned your head gingerly, to the side and saw Jey looking off into space.

"J-Jey…" You whispered softly.

He jumped at the sound of your voice, and stood to his feet, immediately checking you over. "Are you in pain," he asked. "Do you need something for it?"

"Just you."

"I think I've done enough," he said softly.

"You didn't do this, Jey," you admonished him. "So, don't think like that." You touched your head, "Though I do wonder how you guys do this as a living," you chuckled, then winced. "Because I am sore."

"Crazy woman," Jey muttered, pouring you a cup of ice water. "What you've been through and you're laughing? You're crazier than me."

There was a long silence as you took a sip of the water he poured you. You broke it by commenting, "I hope that I can get out of here in time to fly with you to the next show. Otherwise, I'll have to meet you there. As it is, I guess I'll be watching RAW from a hospital bed tomorrow night."

"Don't worry about it," Jey said softly. His dark eyes avoided your gaze, you noticed. "Just focus on getting better. The doctors say you have a concussion, bruised ribs, and bruised kidneys."

"Well, I will focus on getting better. But I really wanted to see Gunther get what was coming to him. I hope I get out of here in the morning."

"Yeah, about that… Have you considered going back home? I mean, you said you had almost enough info to start your book. Why don't you get back and start working on it once you're better?"

You stared at him a moment, trying to ascertain if he was joking or not.

He clearly wasn't.

"Jey, I'm not ready to go home. I want to be with you."

Jey sighed, and still avoided your eyes. "Listen. This isn't working out. I can't focus on my title reign and keep you safe at the same time. You experienced what went down. You have to realize this."

You didn't want to hear what was coming next. You knew you didn't. But you had to face the music.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

Jey was silent for a minute. Then he finally met your eyes. "Yeah."

You froze. You fought tears, and nodded your understanding. Yet your words spoke something different.

"But you made me fall in love with you, Jey. You told me that you loved me."

"You think a guy won't say what he has to, to get a woman in bed?"

You gaped at his crudeness, his sudden cruelty.

"I don't need any collateral damage in my title reign," he added. "Just go home. Forget any of this ever happened."

You let out a sound, somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

"Right."

"You were a conquest, Y/N. Get over it, and move on."

You needed him to leave. Now. You were about to lose control of your tears, and you couldn't let him see them.

"Get out of here, Jey."

He paused, looked at you as though he wanted to say something else. His soulful dark eyes stared into yours.

"Get out!"

And he did. He silently walked out the door and left you behind. No spoken goodbye, nothing.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you broke down in tears.

"How could he?" You asked yourself. "What did I do to deserve this?"

You shakily removed the sheet and blanket from over you and gingerly stood to your feet. In a trance of sorts, you made your way to the closet and removed the bag that held your clothes. You went into the bathroom and changed into the clothes you had on previously. Blood stained the shirt, but you didn't care. It was just something to cover your body.

You feebly stepped out of the bathroom, holding your ribs, and found Jimmy, Naomi, Rhea and Nattie in your hospital room.

"Y/N, what happened?" Naomi asked. "Jey came out and wouldn't say a word and then he just left."

"I didn't hurt him, so you don't need to beat the crap out of me," you said, trying to make a lame attempt at a joke.

"Y/N, what's going on?" Nattie asked, rubbing your back gently. She stopped however, when you winced.

"Jey…" You started. "He suggested I go home and start on my book."

"Well, that isn't up to him is it?" Rhea asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

You snorted, "No, he's right. I've worn out my welcome. I'm going home, and… I just want to thank you all for allowing me to be part of your lives this week and for the experiences you gave me."

"He said you wore out your welcome?!" Naomi demanded. She looked over at Jimmy, as if to say, 'You've got a beatdown to give'.

"No, no Naomi. He didn't. That's just how I feel after talking to him." You swallowed hard. "Can you guys give me a ride to the hotel so I can get my things and get a flight?"

"You can't leave the hospital yet, Y/N! You haven't been officially discharged." Nattie cried.

"What happened," Rhea demanded suddenly. "Jey is crazy about you."

"I'm leaving with or without your help," you said. You were being hard-headed, and you knew it, but you couldn't help it. You needed out of here. "And if you want to know what happened… then ask Jey. He's the one who dumped me. That's all I'm saying."

"Okay," Jimmy said slowly, as if he didn't know what was the best thing to do. He glanced at Naomi and she shrugged–truly mystified by the turn of events.

The group helped you out of the room and to the elevator, and then to the rental in the parking garage. Jimmy helped you inside the car. Once you were all strapped into your seat belts, Jimmy started the car and drove you to the hotel.

You hurried–as much as you were able–to your room with the women, and began throwing everything of yours into your suitcase. You didn't care if it wrinkled or not. You just wanted to get home at that point. The memories this room held for you were too painful. The rumpled sheets only reminded you of the love you'd made with Jey. Only, now–after the way he'd spoken to you–it had been reduced to mere sex.

You breathed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Are you okay," Naomi asked, touching your shoulder.

"I will be. Some day," you replied.

"I'm going to claw his eyes out the next time I see him," Naomi commented.

"Don't do that." You chided sadly, "It isn't worth it. Just let it go. I am."

The women walked you back down to the rental and then Jimmy was driving you to the nearest airport.

"I want to go with you–make sure you get home okay," Nattie said.

"No. I need some time alone, Nattie," you replied. "Really. I will be okay."

You reached the airport and went inside to get a plane ticket to (your hometown). Then you were sitting in a seat and waiting to board said flight."

After about an hour your flight was called to board and you walked through the terminal to do just that.

Settling into your seat, you pulled your phone out and set it to Airplane Mode, then replaced it in your carry-on bag.

The flight took off on time, and you leaned your head back against the headrest.

How would you ever get through this? It hurt so badly. That Jey had never cared for you. He was only trying to cut another notch in his bed post, with you. And he did. That is what hurt. You fell for him and all you were to him was a sex buddy. Not even that, if you were honest with yourself.

You slept most of the flight. Some of the pain meds must have still been in your system, causing drowsiness. Your seat neighbor was kind enough to nudge you awake as the plane landed, and you thanked them.

Within an hour, you were heading through the terminal and picking up your suitcase. You pulled your phone out of your carry-on bag and turned it off Airplane Mode and almost immediately you got a text alert.

From Jey.

"What do you mean you left the hospital before you were discharged? You didn't even sign papers or anything?"

You quickly texted him back.

"I'm no longer your problem, nor am I your whore. Leave me alone, Jey."

Then you promptly blocked his number from contacting you anymore. Then you requested an Uber driver to come pick you up and take you to your home.

No more than an hour later, you were unlocking your front door and going into your house.

The place seemed a lot lonelier than when you'd first left it. You sat down on the couch, planning to unpack later, and sent Nattie a text that you'd got home okay.

Sitting quickly turned into lying down.

It went downhill from there.

You cried as if your heart would literally break, and fell asleep on the sofa.

If you want on my tag list, just ask! 😀

Tagging:

@oreillystolemyheart @lookalivesunshine-x @southerngirl41 @claymoresofinfamy23 @beccalynns-world

@Heerah34 @dersha89 @shortyiceheart @wwechristina87 @expert-texpert

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@fafomama @zigzoggy @raya-hunter01 @sharmelasworld @queenmotionlessxo

#Jey Uso #jey uso fan fiction #jey uso x reader #jey uso imagine #jey uso fanfiction

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gurugirl · 1 year ago

Text

Sex Tutor II

Summary: It feels like you and Harry are looking for different things. You aren't cut out for casual and Harry doesn't have time to focus on a relationship. But feelings are complicated and Harry doesn't even know what he wants until he realizes he can't stop thinking about you.

A/N: Here she is! The final part! I hope y'all enjoy! Part I Here

Word Count: 13.375

Warning: smut, angst, fluff, praise kink, size kink (kind of)

. .

It was another round of disappointment with Gunther after the 2nd time. Not only because he was so unenthusiastic and he wouldn’t return the favor (still), but because you really couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. About how good it had been with him.

As you were going down on Gunther you kept sucking him in and it just didn’t feel the same. He smelled different, and not necessarily bad but it wasn’t as pleasant as it could have been. He’d definitely sprayed some kind of cologne on and you could taste the bitterness of it on your tongue. And he was kind of rough with you. Pressed the back of your head down and grunted once or twice. You even attempted to run your finger over the spot Harry showed you and he got all squicked out by it thinking you were trying to put it in his butthole. And that reaction had totally ruined the moment for you.

Just like the first time, you left his dorm and walked back to yours alone in the dark with nothing but your thoughts and a touch of disgust. You considered reaching out to Harry. He did mention to you that you could call him anytime. And you were left fully unsatisfied by Gunther. There was no part of you that didn’t believe Harry could satisfy you every which way.

You figured you’d call it quits with Gunther after that and maybe you’d contact Harry again. But to your surprise, he contacted you first.

H: How did it go with Gunther?

You were working on a paper at your desk when you saw his message. Of course, you stopped everything to respond.

Not great. He did cum, though. So I guess that’s good! lol

H: Did you also cum?

You swallowed and bit your lip as you felt your cheeks heat up at that question.

No.

It took a bit for him to respond. You weren’t sure if he was in the middle of something or if he didn’t have anything more to say, or maybe it was that he was thinking of how to word his response. And by then you had a hard time getting back into working on your paper so you called it quits for the day and decided to shower.

You kept wondering what was on Harry’s mind. Wondered if you should follow up with him. Ask him to see you again. And when you got out of your shower you had planned out a whole message to type out to him. You’d ask him for another lesson and see if he had any time. You’d be kind of putting yourself out there but Harry had been so nice and it was so good with him you hadn’t stopped thinking about that night.

But there was already a message from Harry waiting for you when you picked up your phone.

H: I think you should come over again. You didn’t get what you needed from him and I’ll happily make up for it. Show you what it’s supposed to be like.

You laid your phone down on your sink counter and grinned, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. Because yes! Yes, you’d go to his and let him take care of you. God, you’d love to give him another blow job too.

Only if you want. When were you thinking?

His response came faster than you expected.

H: Are you free tonight? Say 6 or so?

You weren’t technically free. You needed to finish your paper but fuck it. Harry would be worth a rushed final product.

That works for me : )

You met him at Maud’s like the first time. Only this time you bought his tea and a sandwich for him. He told you it wasn’t necessary but you felt like it was the least you could do. You walked back to his apartment together and told him about your paper that was due and he talked about his thesis. Harry was an interesting person. He wasn’t just eye candy, he had real depth. And he was kind.

“So why don’t you have a T.V.?” You asked as you sat on his couch and he plopped down next to you, drawing his arm over your shoulder.

“No time really. I’m telling you, I am almost always studying and doing coursework. Used to have one but it was too much of a distraction.”

You laughed, “And this isn’t a distraction?” You motioned your hand between yourself and Harry.

He shifted his seating and his hand moved from your shoulder to the side of your neck as he gently pulled at you, “Oh it’s a distraction all right. But this is the kind that’s worth it. Television has never been worth missing out on a good study sesh,” he laughed and you laid your palm on his chest.

“Well, I hope it’s worth it. Don’t feel like I’m all that amazing. Kind of ju–“

Your words were abruptly cut off with his mouth over yours. You let out a surprised squeak and Harry laughed against your lips, “Sorry… just want you, Y/n…”

You were a goner. You had never felt so sexy in your life as in that moment. Harry seemed quite ravenous and you didn’t know if it was because he was just horny in general or if it was because of you but the way he was licking at your mouth and touching your hip and moaning it felt a lot like he was simply into you. At least that’s what you were going to believe.

He got you into his bed again, your pants and sweater on the floor as he kissed your tummy. Your head was spinning, “Your lesson today,” he spoke between soft pecks over your skin, “Is to see how special you are. How you deserve to feel good. To be with someone who’s going to worship you…”

He hadn’t even touched your clit and it was already throbbing under your cotton panties. The man knew just what to say and you couldn’t help but melt into his mattress and moan his name.

You didn’t have much experience. But you knew one thing and that was that Harry was really really good. He pulled an orgasm from you like an expert, fingers tucked deep into your pussy with his tongue and lips sliding expertly over your sensitive clit. You could hardly even remember getting your clothes off but you didn’t forget his words as he pushed your thighs apart and nosed at your pussy, “So sweet, honey,” he looked up at you, “Can I call you honey?”

Honey. You didn’t mind. Of course not. He could call you whatever he wanted.

And when you finally came down from your orgasm, you shivered as he kept sucking on your clit. You tried pushing at his forehead and he hardly budged as he lifted his mouth from your pussy, “Relax. One more okay? Give me one more, honey?”

Fuck. You were not sure how you were going to survive this man.

When you were panting and sweating after your second orgasm Harry laid next to you and kissed your neck and told you how sweet and perfect you were. You tried returning the favor but he just shook his head and pulled your hand away from his obvious erection to kiss your knuckles, “This wasn’t about me tonight. Just for you, okay? I’m fine. Took care of myself before you came over anyway.”

“But you’re hard…”

“And I promise you that I’m fine. You deserve to be taken care of, Y/n. Don’t like how you’ve been neglected. Want you to just get what you need tonight.”

You stayed at Harry’s for another couple of hours. Just talking and laughing. It was like you two had always known one another. You learned a little about his childhood and you told him about yours. He was sweet and easy to talk to and you loved how he kept holding your hand and pinching your bottom lip as you’d talk. And when it was time to go he called you an Uber again, to which you protested, telling him that was unnecessary.

“It’s absolutely necessary. Don’t want anything to happen to you and this way I can watch the route and make sure you get where you need to go.”

It was like you were another person for the next week and a half. You were feeling quite confident and you ignored Gunther’s text to “hang out”. Harry made you feel like you deserved more. Even if you’d never have anything serious with Harry, he sure made you feel special.

But one night when you and your roommate were hanging out at a sorority house, you overheard something that made your stomach turn.

“You stayed the whole night?”

“Yep. He asked me to. Fucked me so good I almost couldn’t walk and he’s just so nice… I kind of thought he’d have me leave but he said he wanted to make sure I was okay.”

“What’s he like?”

“Well, everything about him is just…” the girl grinned and bit her lip with that dreamy, faraway look in her eye, “He’s so hot up close too. His body… holy shit, you should see this man’s body! But his dick… when I felt that thing inside of me, I was a dickmatized. He’s big and it’s just… perfect. But it’s not just that he’s got a big cock, he’s like… super nice and just knows how to orchestrate the whole experience. Talked me through it all, it was so sexy, and he knows what he’s doing.”

“And you’re gonna ask for another session?”

The girl nods, “Oh yeah. I already did. Well, the morning when I left he fucked me again and then ate me out and told me to call him if I ever needed anything. So I obviously called him…”

Harry wasn’t your boyfriend. He was a single man who had a reputation. He was known for this very thing. So why did it bother you? Why did it make you feel nauseated and jealous? You didn’t even get to have full-on sex with him. It was just oral sex both times, but it felt like you missed out in a way, not having the opportunity to have him like that. But perhaps it was better that you hadn’t had actual sex. Because your wandering thoughts and feelings were betraying your good senses. Images in your brain of you and Harry being a couple were silly. That was never going to happen. Maybe continuing to see Harry would be a bad idea after all. You were already feeling things for him that you shouldn’t be.

And, so, when Gunther called you again the day after you heard that story you decided to answer the call and give him yet another chance. He asked for another “date”. But this time you told him you wanted to actually go out somewhere first. Like on a real date. Maybe a change of scenery would be nice. Maybe the third time would be the charm, as they say. Perhaps if you gave him one more shot he’d redeem himself. Maybe you’d finally get what you were looking for all along.

So there you both were on a Saturday night at the bar with house music playing. You were readying yourself for another round of disappointment and being left unsatisfied when he refused to dance with you. The bar you two had gone to had a DJ every Saturday night and you thought it could be fun to have a couple of drinks, eat some bar food, and dance a bit. But Gunther didn’t want to get up off his stool and he went way beyond just a couple of drinks. You weren’t sure how many he had at that point but it had become clear that he just wanted to drink and get back to his room so he could get his dick sucked and send you on your way.

This time, however, there would be no blow job. You had already decided on Ubering back to your dorm alone afterward. You just had to figure out how to break it to Gunther first.

. .

Harry had been wondering about you since the last time he saw you. The nervous pretty girl who wound up being quite the breath of fresh air for him. He didn’t expect you to call him for another session but he kind of hoped you would. Or at least just a text to hang out. The last night he had you at his place he felt like you were an old friend. A hot friend who he wanted to bang, but a friend, someone he felt comfortable with who he could talk to all night. He was surprised at how easily the conversation flowed with you. And so it was kind of disappointing when you didn’t reach out to him again. He felt like maybe you weren’t that into him.

He even wound up having to cancel on someone he’d made plans with. He wasn’t sure he was ready to look at anyone else naked. He needed time to get his head on straight. Which just meant he was concerned he’d be thinking about you while he was with someone else. And that was something he refused to do with anyone; think about one person while being with another.

And now it was almost two weeks later and he was still thinking about you. Kept wanting to text you to ask how you were. To see if you wanted to just hang out. He figured if you wanted more you’d reach out. He didn’t want to assume you felt whatever it was he felt. He wasn’t even quite sure what he was feeling.

So when his friend invited him to go out for a few drinks he thought it would be a good opportunity to get his mind off of you so he decided why not? He didn’t often go out to drink. He didn’t have time for it, truth be told. But his buddy wanted to celebrate landing a big job and Harry said he could only hang out for a couple of hours because he had to be up early the following morning to study but he could use a couple of hours away from schoolwork to let loose a bit.

The bar was packed and the room was loud with music and an open dancefloor where people were dancing and flirting. He figured he’d go out and dance for a song or two after a couple of beers and then call it a night. As he was on his second pint he gazed around at the tables with girls in their short dresses and guys trying their hardest to impress and that’s when he spotted you. He felt his heart float up into his throat and then he narrowed in his sight to see who you were with. Gunther.

Harry had looked up this Gunther guy. He was easy to find. He was following you on Instagram and being that there weren’t many called Gunther he knew right away it was him. Why did he look him up? It was just another thing that had Harry a bit perplexed. Being someone on the path to becoming a sex therapist, one would think Harry had more of an idea of what was going on in his own head. But maybe it was more just a matter of whether or not he was ready to admit what he was feeling.

You appeared bored. Annoyed maybe. You had your chin propped in your hand and you were swirling your drink with a straw. Your eyes were focused on the dance floor and Gunther was looking a bit tipsy. He was staring at his phone. If Harry were there with you he’d have his whole attention on you. He wouldn’t even be thinking about his phone. Hell, he had his whole attention on you now and he wasn’t even there with you.

He wondered what it was you saw in Gunther. He knew the man wasn’t doing it for you. He could just see it in your posture. If you had been well fucked, or at least satisfied on some level, and given the attention you deserved your demeanor would have been different. Harry could do that for you. He’d seen how you responded to a good orgasm and how relaxed and confident you got when you were satisfied.

When he saw you sip the last of your drink and say something to your date, who didn’t even so much as give you a glance, you got up and made your way to the dancefloor when the new song came on.

Watching you sway and dance alone had Harry’s heart rhythm increasing. Your dress was riding up your legs and you had your arms raised and your eyes closed. It was clear you were just trying to enjoy your time whether or not Gunther was. He was glad you were dancing and doing your own thing.

“Who’s the girl?” Harry’s friend asked as two more guys joined them at the table.

“Y/n. A friend.”

“I bet. You gonna go be her friend again tonight?” Paul’s elbow teasingly poked at Harry’s arm.

Harry nodded, “You know what? Maybe I will. Looks like she could use some company.”

Leaving his beer behind at the table with his mates Harry scanned his eyes back towards Gunther who was still enmeshed in whatever was on his cell phone’s screen. He couldn’t believe the guy wasn’t watching you dance. You were a sight.

Harry wound his way through the crowd before he got close enough that he could get your attention. But your eyes were still closed as you sensually moved your hips and swayed to the beat. He began to dance, only a few feet in front of you as he watched you move and feel the music. He stepped in closer, glimpsing down over the skin on your neck and up to how your lips were slightly parted, a bit of sweat building at your brow line.

And when you finally opened your eyes to see the very man you’d had on your mind it came as quite the surprise. You blinked your lashes at him as he grinned down at you, “Harry?”

Your smile stretched over your face as you continued letting the music guide your movements and he took your hand, gently pulling you closer to breach the space between you, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you gazed up at him like you were in a dream. Was he really here? “What are you doing here?”

He laughed and moved his hand to your hip, “Came out with some friends,” he glanced toward the table where Gunther was still laser-focused on his phone, “I see you’ve come with someone as well.”

You followed his gaze and then looked back up at him, “Yeah. Was trying to give him one more shot.”

Harry’s big hand had a firm grip on your hip as you both moved away from the sight of Gunther, still dancing, “One more shot? You think he’s worth it?”

Shaking your head you laid your palm over his chest, “I don’t know. Just wanted to see.”

Harry let out a laugh and shook his head, “You think he’s gonna satisfy you? Or you think you’ll be left wanting once again?”

You felt your face warm up as you shook your head no and shrugged.

“Then why are you here with him, Y/n?”

You shrugged again and looked down at the collar of his shirt, “Just wanted to see if a night out would make it better.”

Harry pulled his free hand around the back of your hip and ducked his head down to your line of sight, “And look at him over there. Not paying you the attention you deserve. If it were me I’d be out here dancing with you and showing you off to everyone.”

You laughed, that smile he was searching for back on your face again, “You are technically out here dancing with me.”

“See? I say what I mean. You’re too special to waste your night with him. You planning on leaving here with him after?”

“Don’t think so. I mean look at him… he doesn’t care if I’m here or not. He probably just wants his blow job and he’s suffering through all this just to get his balls drained,” you laughed and covered your mouth with your free hand. You didn’t know what’d gotten into you saying that but you didn’t regret it when Harry let out a loud guffaw.

“It’s cause you’re so good, Y/n,” Harry ran his hand up your spine to wrap his fingers along the back of your neck, and he ducked his mouth close to your ear to speak, “You know that right? How good you are? Got me all flustered right now thinking about it. Don’t go back with him. He’s not worth it.”

Your eyes fluttered when you felt his warm breath on your ear and down your neck. You loved what he was saying to you but you also knew he was probably just being nice. Like he was to everyone. Like he had been to that girl he let stay over after you. While you were pining over him he was fucking another.

Not that you had any right to be jealous. There were no strings in this relationship.

“I think I’ll just get an Uber back to my place. That’s what I was planning anyway,” you turned in to respond to him.

Harry moved you to the rhythm slowly and the feel of his hands on you was exciting. But you didn’t want to get caught up in how it all felt because you knew you’d just get attached to him. He was so nice and so good and being with him had you feeling like you were special to him. Though, you knew the truth. You were just like everyone else.

Except that every time you looked into his eyes it was deep and there was a well of emotion or something that couldn’t just mean nothing. But maybe that was just you being the silly optimist that you were.

“Can’t believe he didn’t give you anything,” his gaze seared over your face, “Can’t believe he wouldn’t want to.”

You felt his hand gently squeeze the back of your neck and his heart was pumping healthily under your palm. He ducked down again, his voice vibrating off the shell of your ear and the heat of his body enveloping yours, “He’s missing out because you’re so sweet. Feel lucky I got to taste you and he never has. Might sound selfish but I hope you don’t let him.”

You panted when his lips grazed over your earlobe and then he planted a hot kiss to the skin just underneath, “Let me have you again. Come back to mine and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Want to taste you and feel, Y/n. Missed you…”

Your brain was blurry as he smudged his lips down your neck. Your skin pricked in delight at the cool air that hit every damp spot left behind by his mouth.

“What the fuck?”

Your little bubble burst when you heard Gunther’s voice. Harry kept his arm around your low back, continuing to hold you close.

“Dude… what is this?”

“It’s… Gunther this is Har–“

“I don’t care who he is. Why is he dancing with you and kissing you?”

“That’s a good question,” Harry responded, “You should have been out here with her but you were too interested in your phone to notice that someone else was enjoying her company and paying attention to her like she deserves.”

Gunther laughed and stumbled forward, trying to pry Harry’s hand from your waist, “Come on…”

“Go home, Gunther,” Harry moved you behind his back and stood tall to look down on your date.

Gunther looked at you, dumbfounded, “Is this guy for real?”

You nodded and grabbed onto Harry’s arm, “Yeah. You should leave and get some rest. I think you’ve had too much to drink. I’m sorry–“

“Don’t apologize to him. He should have been acting like your date.”

“So, you’re not coming back to my room with me? My roommate’s out all night, Y/n…”

Shaking your head you stepped next to Harry, “No. I’m not. I think I’m just gonna go home myself–“

Harry looked down at you, “You sure you want to go home?”

“Fine. This was a lame date, anyway,” Gunther laughed and pointed at you, “Don’t call me again.”

Rolling your eyes as your date walked off you looked back up at Harry who was still looking down at you with a confused expression, “You really don’t want to come with me?”

You swallowed and let go of his arm, “It’s not that… It’s just kind of complicated and a mess of things I don’t want to explain…”

Harry took your hand, “Try me.”

You shook your head as you both moved away from the crowd of swaying bodies, “This isn’t a therapy session, Harry. I have real feelings and I’m not cut out for casual like some people.”

He followed you toward your table where you had left your purse. You wanted to make sure you got it before anyone else did.

“What does that mean, Y/n? Talk to me.”

When you pulled your purse over your shoulder you shrugged as you looked up at him, “Come on Harry. You know what I mean. You and I are in different leagues. You are having fun and sleeping with all these people, which you’re totally allowed to do! And I barely have any experience and was even so desperate that I went out with Gunther again in hopes of some kind of connection–“

“Hey,” Harry softly grabbed your face and let the pads of his thumbs graze over your cheekbones, “You and me have a connection. And there are no leagues, Y/n… that’s something made up.”

You puffed out a laugh but you really wanted to melt into him, at his soft touch, “But we’re looking for different things, Harry. And that’s fine, really… I should go…” You began to walk toward the exit and Harry followed you out the doors.

The silence and the darkness outside were only tempered by the streetlights with the noise of a car passing and the bass of the music coming from inside the bar you’d just walked out of.

“I hope you don’t think I took your company for granted, Y/n. I really, genuinely like you. Haven’t stopped thinking about you since our last night together.”

You nodded with a faint smile, “That’s nice to hear. I know you’re a super nice guy, Harry. And I hope this doesn’t sound rude or anything… but it’s just hard for me to really believe you were thinking much of me afterward. I imagine you stay booked and busy.”

Harry’s brows stitched together, “Booked and busy? I don’t just have lots of girls over all the time, Y/n. I am a busy man though. I’m in my coursework program and working on my thesis. I’m not just fucking around all the time. Haven’t had anyone over since you, actually.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “No? What about a pretty blond who stayed the night with you? I’m guessing it was last week?”

He shook his head, “Had no one over last week.”

“Really?” You looked down at the concrete sidewalk and wondered if you’d gotten it wrong. You swore it sounded like she had just seen him the way she was talking.

Harry pulled your hand into his, “You’re the last girl I had over. Was supposed to see someone the other day but I canceled. Wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

You sighed, “I mean… obviously you can do what you want and see who you please. I’m just… my point is that I’m worried about getting attached. You’re good at casual and I’m not. So… seeing you again might be fine for you but for me, it holds so much more meaning. It’s just how I’m programmed. I can’t help it.”

He nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t know why that little confession had his heart twisting, “I see. So you wouldn’t want to see me again then?”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t want to. I think you’re fun and we had a really good time but I don’t know if I can handle being one of the many. When I overheard someone talking about sleeping with you…” you shook your head, “I was sick to my stomach even though I have no right to feel that way. Does that make sense? And I’m not like saying,” you gestured your arms about, “… that I’m already attached or anything. It’s just I am not cut out for being with someone who’s also sleeping with others. So it’s better to cut our losses. My losses… before I actually get hurt.”

Harry could understand that. He’d dealt with this before. Girls getting jealous of other girls. And so then at that point, it was time to part ways as amicably as possible. Because Harry was a single man and not ready for commitments like that. His only commitments were finishing his thesis, getting his doctorate, and working toward opening his own practice one day. That was where his heart was. Not with any one girl who might come along. Perhaps one day he’d settle down. After he met all his life’s goals first.

But looking at you and your pretty eyes, the ones that had him in a trance, the ones he couldn’t stop thinking about that had him canceling on another girl… well he was quite torn. He didn’t know what he was feeling exactly. All he knew was that he had a plan, a path he’d forged and would continue on until he got what he wanted. And never in that plan did he imagine meeting someone along the way who could disrupt any part of that.

“I wish you’d reconsider.”

You shook your head as you looked at his soft green irises, wondering if that would be the last time you’d get to see them up close. You wanted to repeat his words to him. I wish you’d reconsider. Because that’s what it would take. You couldn’t do casual and you’d drive yourself mad knowing he was sleeping with others. There was nothing wrong with Harry. In fact he was quite astonishing and impressive. But that would only make the eventual parting even worse for you and so you figured it was better this way. It would be nice to have him again but you’d just be falling deeper into that hole. You knew yourself all too well.

Your Uber had arrived and you smiled up at Harry, “I can’t. I found myself thinking about you too much and just imagining how it’d be if we did more… I’d really be a mess. But truly, you’ve been so great, Harry. I wish you all the best.”

You climbed into the back of the black Toyota and Harry thought he should stop you. He thought he should climb in after you and tell you that you were making a mistake. That he really didn’t know what he was doing but he couldn’t just let you leave like that. He could figure it out if he did it with you.

But God, what was he thinking? Why would he do that? He didn’t know you well enough to be making such big decisions that could derail the very rigid plans he’d already made for himself. So he let you go. He watched as the car took you down the street until you were out of sight completely and he felt like something was missing. For the first time ever there was a pit in his gut, an obstruction that had him faltering. Had he just fucked up? Or had he done something that was for the better?

He honestly didn’t know.

. . .

The university you attended was like a small town. Thousands of people attended classes and milled about the campus every day. And despite how many people there were gossip was quickly and easily spread. It shouldn’t have surprised you because if there was one thing a college girly was good at, it was gossiping and learning more details about gossip they heard. And who happened to be one of the most talked about grad students on campus? To your utter dismay, the name of one of the most popular and attractive guys at university was Harry Styles. You’d never paid much attention to it before you met him. But now every time his name came up you were all ears.

Now you didn’t go believing all the things you heard in general. Most gossip was easy enough to ignore or brush off as inconsequential or probably a downright lie. But your ears did perk up when you were at a frat party and you heard Harry’s name mentioned. And the only reason you even heard it was because your roommate was chatting with a girl who was talking about him.

“Yeah, I guess Harry’s been seeing people but not doing anything with them. Like he brings them to his place or whatever and then he just freezes and apologizes but Lora said, and I’m just saying what I heard from her, that he really liked some chick and she didn’t want to see him again and he can’t get over her or something?”

“That’s interesting. I heard he canceled on someone a month ago- Amy’s friend who hung out with him once. So maybe this has been going on since then?”

Your roommate turned to look at you, narrowing her eyes and you knew what she was thinking. But even if the part about him being upset over some “chick” was true, certainly that had nothing to do with you.

“I heard the same thing,” another girl chimed in, “My brother is in a class with him and he said Harry’s been kind of down I guess.”

“Your brother takes note of his mood?” One of the girls laughed.

“Oh yeah. Only because I ask about him. When I found out he had a class with Harry I was like tell me everything!” She laughed.

You had a feeling that most of what you were hearing was false. Harry was so confident and just having a good time you couldn’t imagine he’d freeze up around anyone like that.

As the night went on, the frat house became packed with people. Dancing bodies, music, drugs, alcohol, hookups… You were there for the dancing and alcohol part. Your roommate had her eye on the debate team champ, Alex, and was hoping to get lucky finally (they’d been kind of playing a cat-and-mouse game that she was ready to finish once and for all).

You kept your drink in hand the whole time. Only refilling when necessary and trying not to get too wasted. That was never cute and it was also dangerous. But you loved dancing and letting loose with others who were just as bad at dancing as you were. It was fun to not worry about what you looked like because no one really cared.

Except that when you heard Gunther’s voice from behind you and felt his sticky hand on your arm you wanted to vomit, “Look so good, Y/n…”

He was drunk. His voice was slurred and you were annoyed at his presence. You pulled away from him but being the nice girl you were you smiled and made small talk for a bit as you kept moving your hips to the music.

“Come back to my room again tonight. Miss this mouth,” he plucked at your lip and you swatted his hand away, the smile on your face dropping instantly. No more nice girl.

“No thanks.” You turned to leave the area where everyone was dancing to get away but he followed behind.

“Oh, come on. You love sucking me off. You’re so good at it too.”

Finally. A compliment. But of course, it was too little too late and certainly not the time nor the place for such words. Besides, you were no longer attracted to him, and no matter what angle he tried it wasn’t going to work.

“Go away, Gunther!” You suddenly snapped at him and he stopped mid-stride and looked at you like you had two heads with horns.

He lifted his hands in surrender, “Okay. Fine. Jesus.”

You turned to make your way to the kitchen for a refill when you saw something that made your heart drop and your stomach bubble in gross shock. It was Harry Styles dancing slowly behind some cute girl, his arms wrapped around her front, leaning down to her shorter height and he was kissing the side of her neck.

Your Harry. The one who had you all gooey and giddy after that “session”. The one who kissed your neck not that long ago. You wished he was dancing behind you like that. You wished you hadn’t been so sensitive and that you could throw caution to the wind and not care that he was sleeping with others. You wished you could have just given in that night at the bar and gone back to his… But you said no to him. And now here he was with someone else.

You gulped and turned to go to the bathroom instead, Gunther still eyeing you up from the spot where you’d left him.

You stayed in the bathroom for a bit. Not wanting to go out and see Harry and the cute brunette dancing. You knew she was in for a treat later on. But that should have been you. Pouting at yourself in the mirror you felt ridiculous. You knew what it was with Harry. That he was a free and single man and could do as he pleased. You really had no right to feel upset over what you’d seen. He’d done nothing wrong.

Dumping out the last bit of your drink in the sink you figured maybe it was just time to leave. You didn’t want to have to deal with Gunther nor did you feel like seeing Harry all over someone else. Perhaps tonight was just not going to be your night.

As you opened the bathroom door a figure stood in the way and your immediate thought was that Gunther had followed you but as you trailed your eyes upward it was clear the man was taller and you didn’t miss the nail polish on his fingers when he gripped the door. Everything stopped. The music, the air around your body, your heart…

“Y/n…” That deep voice spoke your name like it belonged on his tongue.

You looked up at him, removing your hand from the doorknob, and gave him a confused smile, “Hi Harry. What are you doing?”

He seemed off. Not drunk but maybe not quite sober either? You weren’t sure what to make of his behavior as he pulled the door open and stepped into the bathroom, closing it behind himself.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he stepped in toward you, your bottom hitting the edge of the porcelain sink, “Nothing makes sense lately. Just want to go back to how things were but I can’t. S’like I’ve got some kind of block. Something’s missing…”

You shook your head, not really understanding what he was talking about as he continued.

“I don’t know what’s going on in my head. Are you really still with Gunther?” He looked hurt. Wounded almost.

“No. After that night at the bar, I haven’t talked to him. He just happened to be here.” “You were dancing with him.”

“Well, not really. I was dancing and then he came up behind me. I was just being nice talking to him but then he said something and…” you scoffed, “Why does it matter? You were dancing with someone else. And you were all over her. You should be out there with her enjoying yourself, Harry.”

“Can’t. Haven’t been able to enjoy anyone. Don’t want to anymore. Every time I do this now I just… can’t.”

“But you were. You were kissing her neck, having fun. Looked quite cozied up to her, Harry. I imagine she’s waiting for you to return right now.”

“I mean I can’t lie to myself anymore. I’ve been kidding myself. I can never go through with it. I don’t want her. That was just a show. When I saw you with him… it’s dumb. I don’t know what I’m doing, Y/n.”

You sighed and scanned his face. He did seem down, “So why are you here in the bathroom with me? Did you want to talk to me? Is there something I can do?”

Truly you were racking your brain trying to figure out why he was there and why he was telling you everything he was. Now you weren’t a dumb girl, but you would never have assumed what he was about to tell you in his next breath.

“Yes. There is something…” he swallowed, his soft green irises fixed on your mouth, “Can you kiss me? Just once more. I just need to see something with you. Is that okay?”

You felt dizzy. Felt confused. Felt your breaths shallow as he looked back into your eyes, “What? I don’t understand. Why?”

Harry softly brushed his knuckles against yours, “Because I can’t stop thinking about you and every time I try to see someone I just see you. And it’s driving me mad and I don’t understand it really but I just need to know something and I think if I could kiss you maybe it would help clear up the fog in my brain.”

“The fog…” you whispered the words back to him and felt his fingertips against yours. And it was suddenly clear to you what he was saying. You were the one who had him all messed up. The “chick” he couldn’t get over. You didn’t know how it was possible or why but it was and he was begging you with his eyes and his fingertips. The heat of him standing only inches away from you was beckoning you to give in.

When you wound your fingers through his and gently pulled him closer, your lashes fluttering up at him, you saw a light in his eyes, a sparkle of something like wonder and hope and relief. The strange nervous, tense energy you spotted when he first walked into the bathroom with you was suddenly gone.

He brought a hand up to your face, his long fingers curving around to the back of your neck, “It’s okay? I can kiss you, Y/n?”

“Yes. It’s okay, Harry.”

Closing his eyes, a shaky breath fell from his mouth as he relieved his lungs of the pressure in his chest and you braced yourself for his lips on yours but it wasn’t at all what you expected. It wasn’t rushed or filled with filth and lust. It wasn’t slobbery with an excited tongue finding its way into your mouth or teeth colliding in haste.

No. It was filled with warmth and it was soft, slow. He pressed his lips to yours and ran his thumb gently over your cheekbone, inhaling deeply. He squeezed your hand and lulled his lips up and down to the edge of your mouth and delicately swiped his tongue over your bottom lip. The warmth created embers as you parted your lips and ran your tongue against his and your heart lobbed in your chest at the emotion and the meaning you felt pouring from him.

He refused to rush the kiss, slowly opening and closing his lips against and around yours, softly licking and breathing and touching your face and your hand. And when you let out a small whimper the embers caught on fire and his hips were against yours and the fingers at the back of your neck held your face against his as he worshipped your mouth and you felt his nose nudge into yours before he gasped and spoke, keeping his eyes closed, “It’s you. It’s what I want. All I want. I knew it.”

You blinked your eyes open and cupped his jaw, “Harry… what do you mean?”

With his eyes still shut he sighed, “I just mean it’s you that I can’t move on from. I can’t describe it right now but you’ve done something to me and I need more of it.”

In most circumstances, those words would be music to your ears. But you were terrified of getting hurt. Terrified that he was just confused and if you entertained whatever this was he’d realize it wasn’t all that deep and he’d go back to his “tutoring”. Because he had said that when he first got into the bathroom with you. That he just wanted things to go back to how they were. And if you were just a means to an end, well, you didn’t want to be part of that, for your own sake.

“So you’re hoping that now things can go back to how they were before me? Yeah?”

Harry’s eyes opened and he looked down at you, shaking his head, “No. They can’t. I can’t. That kiss, Y/n… Was exactly what I thought. Can we get out of here? Go somewhere and talk?”

He was convincing. How could he not be? His irises were brighter and greener than they were before you kissed him and the thumb he smoothed over your jaw and to your earlobe had you melting, relenting. So you nodded to him and said your goodbyes to the two friends you arrived at the party with, following him outside, keeping your hand in his the whole time.

Your dorm room was closer so you decided to go there and it was like you were walking through a scene in some surreal movie that you couldn’t wait to find out what the ending was going to be. But before you could even get to your dorm, Harry had you against the wall at the art building, and the rush and the lust that you hadn’t quite gotten earlier in the bathroom was suddenly burning all around you.

Wet lips and hasty, shaky hands, hips pasted together away from the streetlamp that illuminated the sidewalk only feet from you… A heart-racing blur. Nipped lips and stifled moans, heaving chests…

And then a hurry to get to your building and find your way up to your room before the dizzy haze of Harry enveloped you again and it was all-consuming. You couldn’t peel yourself away from him and his lips found your neck and your skin and you pushed your hand under his shirt to touch his warm chest.

But he parted from you with a gasp, his chest rising and falling so rapidly his lungs were likely struggling to keep up.

“I’m sorry. That… Y/n I just really really like you.”

Pulling your hand from his chest you nodded at him and shifted on your bed so you could sit to your bottom next to him, “I like you too, Harry.” Obviously.

He ran a hand through his hair and nodded as he looked down at his lap and then dragged your hand over his thigh, sliding his fingers between yours, “I mean I want to be with you. I can’t even think about anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”

You watched as Harry drew his fingers over your knuckles and between your digits then pressed his palm against yours.

“But… so you don’t want to like have what you had before? Like all the girls and the… you know,” you breathed out a laugh that was full of nerves, “The sessions? Weren’t you just having fun?”

He shook his head and turned to look at you, “It was fun. But it wound up just being kind of empty after a bit. Didn’t really get what I was looking for. I mean at first, I didn’t even know what I was looking for. But you know how you said you gave Gunther one last shot because you were hoping for some kind of connection?”

You nodded as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering where he was going with all of it. Was he really about to say what you thought he was?

“I realized that’s what I was looking for. And you… Y/n there’s just this thing with you. I never connected with someone like that before. I never felt so… I can’t like describe…” he paused as he collected his thoughts, “Breathless? Or like… achy here,” he lifted a hand to his chest over his heart, “It’s this stinging dread, just a hopeless feeling. I never cared if someone didn’t want to see me again. But I cared a lot when you didn’t want to. It hurt.”

Those were the kinds of feelings you felt when you liked someone who didn’t like you back. It was that exact description that you were worried about with Harry. You were worried you’d feel all that and then he’d be with someone else the next week. It was for fear of that very thing. But he was feeling it. That devastation.

“I understand exactly. That’s why I didn’t want to see you again. Because I was worried I’d start to feel that too. And it hurts so much that it was easier to part ways before it got to that point. So I get it.”

“I don’t want to do it anymore. With anyone else. I’m done. And I’m so close to what I want… my degree. So I thought it was too much to focus on just one person but I think I was wrong. It’s a lot of work having people come and go. Maybe it’s better to just have someone I can trust and someone who’s there for me. Just one person who I feel a real connection with.”

You swallowed the lump down your throat and your tummy was in knots. It truly did feel like you were in a surreal movie scene all dreamy and untidy with bursts of vivid colors and soft stringed music slowly intensifying as the minutes drew on.

“Would you want that with me? To see what happens? I’m not saying it would be like a fairytale or anything but like… just a normal relationship. Get to figure out what this is between us and learn about each other. Just the two of us.”

“So, me and you?”

“Yeah. Me and you. Not something casual. I’d only want to see you.”

You hadn’t imagined your night going in this direction and it still felt like you were about to have a director enter your room and yell cut! It didn’t quite feel real but it was. Harry was sitting next to you on your bed with his hypnotizing bright green eyes on you, caressing your fingers and your palm with his.

“Okay. Yeah,” you breathed out your words and Harry’s pink lips turned upward in a boyish smile complete with adorable dimples and you couldn’t help but return the expression but it only lasted for a second or two before his lips were pressed against yours again.

Everything about him was intoxicating. His body against yours, his hands on your face and squeezing your hip as he laid you both down in your small bed. You wrapped your arms around him as he ran his tongue over the seam of your lips and it turned into something dirty and desperate, your hands grabbing at him and his fingers trailing under your shirt.

He squeezed at your bum, your jeans blocking him from feeling you unencumbered and then he parted from the kiss, his hair all wild and strewn about from your fingers, “Can we do this here? Is your roommate coming back?”

You looked at the clock on the table at the side of the room and it was well past 2 in the morning. You honestly weren’t sure if she was coming back but you knew she had hopes of going back to Alex’s place. But you also didn’t care. At least not in that moment with Harry right there with you, his scent all over your body, his jeans unzipped, and his shoes somewhere in your room.

“I don’t know. She might be out all night. Just… If she comes back we’ll cover up,” you laughed. You had once again lost your mind. Harry seemed to have you in some lusty trance you couldn’t break. Didn’t want to break.

Harry ducked down to kiss your neck as he fit himself between your legs, the bed squeaking under the sudden shift of weight. You could feel his open pants against your hip. You’d gotten a bit carried away when you were making out and undid them for him, to which he laughed but didn’t stop you. And now, that convenient thing was seductively calling to you as you reached your hand down to push at his pants.

“In a hurry are we?” He looked down at your hand and then at your face.

“Not really. I don’t know. I just want… you.”

Harry’s lids were heavy as he blinked his eyes, “Well you can have me. Whatever you want.”

He pressed the tip of his nose to yours before smearing his mouth against your lips and your fingers were back in his hair once again. Slow and luxurious. Hasty and filthy… Harry kissed you like he didn’t know which way was best. But you were getting fired up from the way he was doing it. You didn’t care, you just wanted it. Wanted his mouth and his tongue, his hands and his body, his moans and his hair between your fingers.

You were hot. Molten underneath him. Your panties were ruined and you were sure he knew what he was doing. Your mind wandered to where you’d put your condoms and then you felt his hands on your hip as he slowly began to slide your shirt upward.

He sat back, plucking at the front of his pants, and then put his hands back on your waist, “Can I get this off? All of it?”

You nodded and grinned with your lip bitten into your mouth as Harry got rid of your t-shirt and then unbuttoned your pants, “You too. Can we get your clothes off too?” You spoke as you lifted your hips and let him peel your jeans down your legs.

Harry grinned at you, “Absolutely. You already did part of the work here anyway,” he laughed as he gestured toward his unzipped pants.

Harry was left in his boxer briefs when the last thing you had to get rid of was your light blue panties. But Harry seemed quite transfixed by the wet spot on the fabric over your pussy. You were so wet the whole of the crotch was clinging to you, outlining what was underneath and Harry slid his thumb over the top of the material and parted his lip before looking up your face, “Fuck.”

You panted softly when he bumped into your clit and pressed over the slick spot, “Does that feel good, Y/n?”

You nodded, “Yeah. That feels good…”

“So warm and wet for me,” he drew his hand up to the elastic waistband and pulled it downward, “Gonna take a closer look. S’that alright?”

You were full of nothing but yes as you knocked your head up and down affirmatively and bounced your gaze from his eyes to where he was disrobing the last bit of material covering you.

He pushed out a quick succession of what sounded like a breathy whistle as he took you in with his eyes, his fingertips holding the soft, mushy part of your inner thighs so you stayed spread, “Fuck. Fuck, honey…” he licked his lips and looked up at you as he ran his thumb through your folds, “Can I have some of this again? Taste…”

He sounded almost as delirious as you felt. Taste… eat… suck… fuck… whatever he wanted. You nodded, “Yes, Harry.”

He leaned over your body, pressing his chest against yours, and kissed your mouth before dragging his lips down your neck and to your tits, stopping to suck and lick each one before he drew his hot mouth downward, sponging kisses over your tummy and to your hips.

Your legs were brought up to drape over his shoulders as he held onto your thighs and then watched you as he licked up from your gushy hole to your clit.

The sounds that fell from your mouth were pitiful. You had an ache that needed to be relieved and it seemed only Harry could do it. Every swipe of his tongue through your crease had you slipping toward the edge of the earth, “Harry…”

You did your best to keep your eyes on his, knowing that’s what he liked but you couldn’t help throwing your head back every time he sucked your clit and rolled it under his tongue. He was better than your clit sucker. He was better than anything or anyone else.

“Mmmm…” your attempt at stifling your moans only goaded Harry even more. He drew his lips over your clit and slid them side to side and the pressure that was building in your tummy had you shaking.

“Will you…” you gasped and pulled at his hair, “Can we have sex?”

You had an immediate urge. A need to feel him closer. Wanted him inside of you right then.

Harry lifted his face from your pussy and licked his lips, “You sure? You’ve had sex before, yeah?”

You laughed and let go of his curls with a nod, “Just with one person. I’m not very good.”

“I’m sure you’re amazing, Y/n,” he sat back, gently placing your legs down and you pushed yourself to sit up.

“I don’t know,” you grinned at him and ran your foot over his thigh, “Maybe you could give me a proper lesson. Think I need tutoring.”

Harry wrapped his palm around your ankle and shot a cheeky eyebrow up, “Oh you need tutoring, do you? Well, you didn’t sign up for a lesson with me. Think you’re just gonna get a freebie?” He laughed.

You shrugged as he lifted himself and began to pull his boxer briefs down his hips. Your eyes focused on his big cock. You couldn’t wait to see what’d feel like inside of you. You were positive he’d be gentle and give it to you good.

“So what are you saying? You charge for your services now?”

Harry pursed his lips to the side and smoothed his hands up your calves, “Teaching is hard work, Y/n.”

“I bet. How about just one last lesson? For me?” You bit your lip, rounding your eyes at him.

“Fine. Just for you.”

“Condoms are in the top drawer,” you pointed to your dresser, “Never been opened.”

He began to move off your bed but then paused, “Never opened?”

“Well, the guy I slept with had his own and we only did it twice so I’ve never used the ones I bought.”

You watched him walk to your dresser to find the unopened box of Trojans. Harry was so fit and masculine and his ass was gorgeous. He was a work of art from behind but when he turned and walked toward you he was angelic. His toned abs and strong thighs, skin littered with tattoos and bits of hair on his pecs, his handsome face, and of course, the heavy, thick organ between his legs, swollen and hard. Just for you.

He kneed up to you on the bed and handed you the wrapper with the condom, “Ever put a condom on a penis before?” He asked as he stroked himself

You shook your head and tore the wrapper open. When you had the rubber in your palm Harry flipped it over, “This side goes on my tip.”

You brought the condom to his tip and looked up at him as you began to roll the rubber downward but he stopped you, “That’s good. But first, pinch the top here, like this,” he brought your fingers to the top of the rubber and pulled at it away from his crown, “Just gives a little space for movement and for my come.”

You gulped at the image in your brain of the condom being filled with his come after orgasm. His shaft was wide and long as the rubber was rolled down as far as it could reach.

You looked up at his face and he was watching you closely with a soft smile, “Very good.”

Harry scooted himself between your legs, his knees butting against the back of your thighs as he smeared his fingers through your folds, “We’ll go slow. I want to make sure everything feels good. When you had sex before, did you come?

You shook your head no.

“And how did you do it? Was he on top?”

You nodded, “Yeah, he was on top of me. It was kind of quick. Both times. I lied and told him I came.”

“Okay. Did he keep your clit stimulated?” He asked as he thumbed at your clit, mushing into it to drive the point home.

You gasped softly, “No. Never touched it.”

“Not even once? What about foreplay?” He circled your bud and the slickness from your pussy began to coat his fingers.

“We just made out and he fingered me and I did get wet. But he never touched… ohhh….” Harry slid two long fingers into your entrance and you looked down to view the spectacle.

His hand was wet with your arousal as he pumped his fingers in and out slowly, “So you’ve just had a string of bad lovers. I’m gonna do my best to make up for it.”

You sighed as he dragged the pads of his fingers along your front wall before pushing them back into his knuckles, “You’re so wet and ready. You deserve to feel good, Y/n. Deserve to have someone care for you.”

You ticked your hips upward slightly and Harry pumped into you a bit harder, the gushy noises of your pussy getting fingered sounded dirty but so good.

When he pulled his fingers from you he held the base of his shaft in his palm and smoothed his free hand up your tummy, “We’ll start off with you on your back. I’m going to go in gently. Okay?”

You nodded and shot your eyes down to his cock and then back up to his face.

“There you go, just keep your eyes on me. Tell me if anything is uncomfortable.”

Harry pulled at your hand and brought your fingertips over your mound, “Rub your clit the way that feels best for you. Okay?”

“Mmhmm…” you nodded and slid your fingers over your nub as you kept your eyes on his.

The initial stretch of your slick muscle around his thick head had you gasping. He inhaled through his teeth and pressed in slowly, “Your body is so turned on. That feels all right, yeah?”

“Yes… feels good.”

“Yeah? Feels good for me too.” He was breathy as he sunk into you and then pulled back a few inches, looking down at where your bodies were connected, half his cock buried inside of you.

And it surprised you how thick he was and how much of him you felt. You’d always heard you don’t feel much when there’s a penis inside of you but Harry’s penis was definitely working into you and spreading your insides apart.

With your fingers delicately running over your bud you moaned, “Oh god… Harry…”

He gripped your thighs and pulled you closer before shifting himself over you, “We’re gonna make sure it feels so good okay? You’re kind of shallow and I can feel the resistance at this spot here,” he rutted in and you gasped, “Like that… depends on where you are in your cycle could be shallower or more space, but I’m only gonna push in as far as is comfortable for you.”

He had his hand on your cheek as he spoke, “Still feels okay right now?”

You nodded, “Yes. You can go deeper. Wanna feel it.”

Harry groaned softly and pressed his lips to yours. You had to pull your hand away from your clit because his pelvis was taking the place of where your fingers were. When he plunged himself in further you felt a delicious pinch and you panted into his mouth.

“Don’t want to hit your cervix. Usually, it’s not comfortable. I’m getting in there pretty deep, though. You okay?”

“Please… it’s okay.” You did want to feel it. Wanted to have him stuff you full and make you ache and burn and wince in pain. The dildo you used always hit your cervix and you didn’t mind the way it felt. Some days you liked it more than others, depending on how horny you were. And in that moment, you’d never been hornier. You wanted to feel him ruin you.

Harry let out a breathy laugh and pushed himself up so he could look into your eyes, “You want to feel it, honey?”

Nodding your head you felt him spread you apart and fuck into you with one deep rut. Your body bounced upward and you gasped.

He stilled his hips and stayed buried inside of you, his hand on your cheek, “That’s it right there, Y/n. Can’t get it in any further. You like that?”

It was obvious you did. The look on your face told him as much. Your eyes were fluttering and your mouth dropped open as you lifted into him, mushing your clit against his solid pelvis, “Mmm yeah…”

Harry swallowed as he watched your features soften then and scrunch with every thrust. He smoothed his thumb over your bottom lip and you licked at the pad of his digit before you wrapped your lips around it and he was in awe of how filthy you really were when he felt your nails dig into his back.

“S’hurt, honey? At all?”

You moaned around his thumb, your eyes blinking up at him, and nodded before hitching your leg up over his hip to indicate you still wanted more, pushing him in closer with the heel of your foot.

So you wanted it to hurt. At least a little anyway. Harry wasn’t going in hard and he wouldn’t. Not yet. Not until he learned exactly what you liked and what your body needed first. But every time he bottomed out you grunted and sucked on his thumb harder and he was losing it.

“Fuck… you’re so hot, Y/n. Look at you with your lips wrapped around my thumb. You just needed something to suck on, didn’t you? And you feel so good around me. So wet and warm, honey…”

You’d never had a man’s fingers in your mouth. You had no idea what you were doing but when Harry slid his thumb over your bottom lip it just came naturally to you. To pull it into your mouth and it was… god it was taking you over the edge. And he seemed to like it as you swiped your tongue around his skin.

But better yet? His cock. You were so full and it was so incredible to have him like that. The other guy you slept with was fine. But now you’d never want “fine” again. Not after this. Not with the way Harry was pulling himself back and then rocking into you, every plunge better than the last. He didn’t pound into you or try to race to the end. He wanted to make it good for you.

He began to pant deeply, his gasps lined with moans as his thrusts became clumsy and he stilled his hips before pulling his thumb from your mouth, “Let’s get you on top. Okay? Wanna watch you ride me and let you take control. Bet you’re gonna be good at it, aren’t you?” His irises scanned your face as he spoke, his thumb at your cheekbone dragging upward.

“I don’t know? I hope so…” you breathed as he nudged himself upward, deeper, “I do wanna be good for you.”

Harry moaned, “Yeah? You are good for me, honey. My favorite. You don’t even realize how good you are but I’m gonna keep telling you til you believe it. Okay?”

Your eyes were heavy and your body was hot. You nodded and let out a breathy, “Okay…”

“That’s right. Now we’ll have you get on top. Wanna watch my pretty girl get herself off on my cock.”

You felt him slide out of you and you looked down at his long condom-covered dick, coated in your juice. Everything smelled of sex as he dipped down and kissed your mouth before climbing next to you and lying down. He pulled at your hips, bringing you over his lap as you placed your palms on his chest and settled your pussy down at the base of his shaft. You wrapped your palm around him and slid it up and down to feel the rigidness of him. He was so hard and thick it made your mouth water.

With his fingers still at your hips he squeezed gently, “Depending on your angle it’s gonna feel very deep. Sometimes it can ache a little bit because I’ll be tucked up into your cervix,” he moved one hand toward the front of your low tummy, “But you can control how deep I get. Can even tilt your pelvis downward which will give your clit more stimulation. Might make it easier for you to come.”

You looked between your legs as you lifted your hips and rocked forward so you could press your entrance over his cock but then you felt his hand on your chin, directing your sight back to him, “Keep your eyes on me. Want to see your face while you’re pushing me inside of your pretty cunt, okay?”

You nodded and began to push yourself down. He fit inside of you so nicely. All snug and warm, packed inside of your guts. Every inch you took you could feel stretching your wall apart.

Keeping your eyes on his you raised your hips upward and then sunk down further to adjust, letting out a puff of breath as your lips parted until your bum was seated on his lap, his cock stuffing you to the brim.

Harry moaned, “Yes. Good fucking girl,” he made sure to praise you as much as he could because he noted how your eyes lit up every time he did it. Pulling at your hips, he brought your pelvis downward, “This is kind of like the starting position. You only need to grind and rub upward, don’t even have to lift off of me. Just slide in toward my belly button,” he pulled at you, causing you to drag upward on his cock but keeping your clit down against his pelvis, “See? Feels good cause you can keep your clit stimulated this way too. Let’s do this for a bit. Just get used to the motion here and do what feels good.”

It was easier than you thought. Your knees and shins were pressed into the mattress along the sides of Harry’s hips as you slid yourself upward. You’d always imagined it being some crazy acrobatic feat where you sat like a frog and bounced up and down like a pornstar. But this? This you could do. And it felt so intimate. Your palms were pressed into his chest, his hands moved down to your ass as he assisted you along his shaft and then back along to his base.

“Tell me how it feels, honey. The look on your face says you like it but want to make sure…”

You rocked your hips, gripping around him and pulling upward with your eyes on his, “It’s… god… it feels so good, Harry…”

“Feels good for me too. Love this angle,” he moved a hand up to your breasts and palmed at your nipples as you continued fucking yourself on him.

When you’d gotten into the movements and found a rhythm you could hear the wetness coming from your pussy every time you slid up and down his cock.

Harry continued smoothing his hand over your tits, “If you really want to feel me deep, lean back a bit.”

Pushing yourself to sit upright you adjusted your hips and the new angle had him deeper than he was before. You hissed as you swiveled your hips and Harry grunted, running his hand back down to your low tummy, “How’s that feel?”

“It’s kind of achy, but feels really good,” you spoke softly, looking into his eyes as you shifted your pelvis.

“God you’re taking me so well, honey… Look so gorgeous on top of me, pretty tits in my face, fucking yourself on my cock... making yourself feel good.”

Everything felt good. You were sure it was because of Harry. All the nice things he was saying had your head spinning and your heart thrashing.

He knew of course that you didn’t need instructions. You might not have had as much experience as he did but sex was something that came naturally for most. And you were so into it and your innate eroticism was shining through your more reserved demeanor.

Harry began to thrust upward, rocking into you, sticking himself in deep. He had one hand caressing your tits and the other pressed into your tummy. You weren’t sure why he was touching your tummy but when he thrust upward into you sharply you cried out and he pressed harder, “Fuck! You’ve got me so deep inside of you, honey. You wanna feel this?”

You reached your hand down to where his was, your hips writhing over him as he punched himself upward and you gasped when you felt the bulge in your tummy under your palm. He did it again and moaned with you, “Oh my god!”

You could feel his cock pressing through you when you put enough pressure on your tummy with your hand.

“Come here,” Harry wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and pulled you down, making you tilt toward him and smeared his lips against yours. The angle where you could rub your clit on his pelvis was the best. It felt so good and you began to rock yourself over him with whimpers into his mouth.

Harry smiled into the kiss, “Bet you’ve humped your pillow before. So you know how to do this. Sliding over my cock so perfectly, Y/n.”

You pushed your palms into his chest and rolled down over him, hips pasted to his. Your orgasm was already beginning to build and singe in your body as you nodded.

His hands were on your hips as he let you take control and ride him how you wanted, “I knew it. Already have experience with this position, yeah? You wanna come, honey? You gonna fuck yourself on my cock til you’re seeing stars?”

You moaned and nodded with your lips parted.

“That’s right. You already know what to do. Now hump it like a good girl. Show me how you do it, honey…”

Harry’s words were so sweet and yet filled with filth. You loved the way he spoke to you with such care but he could turn it so dirty in a heartbeat. Likening you riding his cock to humping your pillow somehow just pushed you over the edge. And you definitely saw stars as your face twisted up and you choked out his name, “Haaarrry! Harry! Yes!! Ohhhh…”

Your pulsing insides encased Harry’s cock and he let you take what you needed as he moaned and watched your tits bounce and sway with every rock of your hips until his balls were squeezing tight and his throbbing cock couldn’t resist the way you gripped around him.

You didn’t hear Harry’s grunts or his breathy moans as he pumped into you. You didn’t see his face contort in pleasure as he kept his eyes focused on you, the pretty girl coming on his cock. You didn’t take note of how when he’d fully emptied himself into his condom he was still watching you in awe as you were breathlessly panting over him, still coming around him, milking every last bit of him out into the rubber that separated your wet cunt from his thick shaft.

You didn’t notice any of that until you finally caught your breath and felt your body tremble as you looked down at him and felt his fingertips digging into the meat of your hips and saw his heavy eyes watching you. You were going to apologize about how you forgot to look at him when you were coming but he pulled you down over his chest and held you against himself. You could feel his heart beating in his chest and his lungs filling with air on every inhale.

He smoothed his hand down your back and to your bottom, “You okay?”

You puffed out a laugh against his chest. It was funny because obviously you were more than okay. You’d just come so hard your ears were ringing and your vision had nearly gone black just before. Your entire body was limp and wobbly over him as he caressed your bottom and your back.

“Fuck, honey. You came so hard. Did so good.”

You sighed and smiled to yourself as you pushed your hands into his hair, “I did?”

“Mmm… so good, Y/n. Deserve an award for that one.” He chuckled and you could feel the vibrations in his chest against yours.

Smoothing a hand down to his pec you lifted your head to look at him and laughed, “What kind of an award?”

Harry slid his hand up to your face, “One of those gold star stickers teachers use. I think I’ve got a pack of them actually. Could put it on your t-shirt so everyone knows how good you are.”

The filthy grin on his face had you giggling, “You do not have a pack of gold stars. Do you?”

His smirk widened, “I do actually. And I know a girl who loves being praised who I can use them all on. Maybe we’ll even get you an ice cream.”

You shook your head with a smile on your face, “What if I want kitten stickers instead?” You teased.

Harry inhaled and turned his gaze to look at the ceiling before looking back at you, “Actually… I think I have kitten stickers.”

You laughed, making Harry laugh with you.

“Okay then. Tomorrow you owe me some kitten stickers and ice cream.” You would be asking him later why he had stickers in the first place.

Harry softly pinched at your bum, a lazy grin on his face, “Your roommate’s not gonna freak out if she comes back and I’m here?”

“Nah. I don’t see why she would. Long as you’re not naked.”

Harry chuckled, “And you don’t mind if I stay here either?”

“I’d like it if you stayed.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

“Good,” you bit your lip and trailed your fingers over the sparrow tattoos at his clavicle as you gazed into his eyes full of affection.

“Then tomorrow you get kitten stickers and ice cream for being such a good girl.”

“And maybe a little bit more of you too? Since I was so good?”

“Just a little bit more is all you want?”

You laughed through your nose, “Okay a lot more of you then.”

“Okay, it’s settled. Kitten stickers, ice cream, and a whole lot of me.”

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xoxorealitygalore · 2 months ago

Text

Plan B 10

Jey Uso x Afro-Brazilian OC

Summary: In her thirties and single after a breakup, Hamisa decides she wants to become a mother, despite her friends' and family's objections. Unable to wait any longer, she chooses to have a baby on her own. However, she unknowingly ends up using her ex-boyfriend sperm after he drunkenly swapped her donor’s sample for his own. As Hamisa raises her child, she starts noticing striking similarities between her ex-boyfriend and her baby, leading to questions about the true origins of her child's conception.

Plan B Masterlist

Taglist: @xbriexx @christinabae @blackchickinthedesert @princess-saki1 @skyesthebomb @raya-hunter01 @theusotwinzcom @yana3sworld @mindairy @wwecrazed2010 @amandairene88 @beccalynns-world @tian-monique

Liked by belmirawoo, itsmebayley, uceyjucey, and 6,001,940 others

hamisawoo WWE Hall of Fame ‘25

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The warm desert wind whispered through the Las Vegas strip, weaving through the dazzling chaos of neon signs and the ever-humming energy of Friday night. But inside the opulent entrance of the Fontainebleau, it was an entirely different world. Red carpet. Flashing lights. Legends. History in the making.

Joshua tightened his grip on Hamisa’s hand as they stepped onto the carpet in front of the BleauLive Theater. Cameras flashed, bulbs bursting in waves like lightning in a controlled storm. Dressed in a black tailored tux with a subtle diamond shimmer under the lights, Joshua looked every bit the rising icon. Beside him, Hamisa radiated elegance in a floor-length white gown that caught every bit of starlight in the room. She moved like music, graceful, confident, timeless.

They posed together, hands clasped, faces framed with warm smiles for the press lining the velvet ropes. Joshua’s arm rested lightly around Hamisa’s waist as they greeted friends, colleagues, and the occasional icon that had once adorned his childhood bedroom wall. The world might have seen them as a power couple but tonight, he just felt like a kid in love, living out his dream.

As they moved down the carpet, reporters threw out questions like confetti. Joshua’s practiced smile never faltered.

“Joshua! Over here! Who are you wearing tonight?”

He laughed, flashing his pearly whites. “You’d have to ask my wife. She picked it all out.”

From beside him, Hamisa playfully rolled her eyes, the corner of her lip curling into a smirk. Joshua had been calling her his wife more and more lately, off-camera, on-camera, in interviews, at dinner, when telling stories about their daughter. And though no way near that point of their relationship, something about the way he said it felt definitive. Certain. True.

Then came the cue from production. Jackie Redmond and Peter Rosenberg stood just beyond the stage entrance, waiting to pull Joshua into the broadcast feed. He turned to Hamisa and gently pressed his lips to her cheek.

“Be right back,” he murmured. She gave him a wink and stepped off to the side.

Hamisa, ever the proud partner, pulled out her phone and began filming as Joshua took his place under the spotlight with Jackie and Peter. She grinned to herself watching him, natural, poised, with that spark in his eye that made people believe he could do anything.

“So, Joshua,” Jackie began, her voice crisp, professional, with a touch of excitement. “Let’s talk about this look tonight.”

Joshua glanced down at his tux before glancing sideways into the camera. “Honestly? My wife picked it out. She’s got the eye, I just try not to mess it up.”

The crew laughed. Even Jackie grinned. “She’s got great taste. You’re killing it.”

Hamisa shook her head with a chuckle. This man.

“Alright,” Peter jumped in, switching gears, “we gotta ask: how in the world are you going to beat Gunther?”

Joshua exhaled slowly, expression serious for the briefest of seconds. “I don’t know,” he admitted with refreshing honesty. “But I’m gonna shock the world. Again.”

He said it so calmly, so matter-of-fact, like it was already written.

Jackie smiled. “One more, we’ve seen your admiration for Triple H over the years. What do you love about him the most? And... can you do the water spit?”

That pulled a laugh out of Joshua. “Triple H? I mean, man… I’m just happy to be here with him tonight. The man changed the game, literally. And yeah, I can do the spit, but I didn’t bring a bottle.”

They all laughed again.

“Hamisa,” Peter suddenly said, turning toward her. “Why don’t you come join us?”

Joshua looked over and waved her in. She hesitated for a second, tucking her phone away before stepping into the spotlight.

Jackie grinned as Hamisa slid in beside Joshua. “So what do you think, Hamisa? Is your man going to win the title?”

Hamisa didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely. He’s going to be World Heavyweight Champion. There’s no doubt.”

The crowd behind the cameras gave a few whoops and cheers. Joshua threw an arm around her shoulder, his eyes shining with pride.

“Let’s talk about Jhream,” Peter said, “We’ve seen the photos. Eleven months old, already adorable as hell.”

“Jhream,” Joshua began, grinning ear to ear, “just like her big brother Jeyce, she’s joining the family business.”

“Oh absolutely,” Hamisa added, “she’s got this unique little superkick already. I swear, it’s in her DNA.”

“Future champion,” Jackie joked. “Well, we’ll be watching. You two are amazing. Thanks for chatting with us.”

They all shared a brief handshake, Jackie and Joshua shows off their special handshake, and Peter passing the feed back to Byron Saxton.

Joshua and Hamisa strolled off-camera, smiles lingering as they made their way through the venue. Inside, the BleauLive Theater was already buzzing, legends and fans alike filling the rows of black velvet seats. They found theirs in the third row, surrounded by stars past and present.

“Yay!” came a gleeful voice beside Hamisa. Pamela. The two women hugged tightly, laughter rising between them.

“Who’s watching my goddaughter tonight?” Pamela asked, grinning wide.

Hamisa smirked. “Her new nanny. Daddy Joshua made sure of that so he could get my undivided attention.”

Joshua raised a hand, mock-saluting them both as the lights began to dim.

Pamela smirked. “Smart man.”

“And maybe a little selfish,” Hamisa teased, nudging Joshua.

He only chuckled. “I need your focus tonight.”

The stadium pulsed with electricity, a thunderous echo of anticipation swirling above the sea of humanity that filled every seat, every aisle, every available pocket of space. WrestleMania Night One had arrived, and for Joshua, the magnitude of this moment felt like the weight of the very ring he was about to enter.

He was backstage, heart pounding, eyes closed, breathing measured but heavy. The pyrotechnics had just wrapped up, and the first notes of his entrance theme dropped, deep bass, tribal drums, and a chant that stirred something ancient in his blood. That was his cue.

Then, the chant: “YEET! YEET! YEET!”

The crowd was already lit, and the roofless dome might as well have been shaking under the sheer force of their energy. As Joshua stepped out, the light bathed him in gold and crimson. He didn’t walk to the ring. He stormed through the aisle, leaping into the crowd, bumping fists, yelling along with them, YEETing his way forward like a man possessed.

He was adrenaline and fire, all muscle and mission.

Tonight, he was here to fight Walter.

But this wasn’t just any fight, this was the World Heavyweight Championship match. And Walter wasn’t just any opponent, he was the immovable mountain, the unrelenting storm, the reigning, defending, and damn near indestructible champion. Defeating him was near mythic in itself.

As Joshua approached ringside, his eyes locked on two of the most important people in his universe: Hamisa and their daughter, Jhream. Hamisa looked radiant, her eyes shimmering under the lights, her expression a calm storm of pride and nervous energy. Jhream sat in her lap, donning oversized noise-canceling headphones, clapping and squealing with delight. Her chubby arms waved wildly, and somehow, through the sensory barriers, her tiny voice rose in a scream of joy.

Joshua grinned. His baby girl was cheering for him. That, he thought, was everything.

Vanessa Hudgens, seated beside Hamisa, leaned over and said something, Joshua didn’t catch the words, but he caught Hamisa’s laugh. He could imagine Vanessa saying she’d never seen a baby so into wrestling before. That sounded right.

Inside the ring, Walter waited, cold, unmoving, his expression granite.

The bell rang.

Everything else fell away.

Walter came out of the gate like a battering ram, and Joshua took it. Took it and stood tall. Took it and kept swinging. He was thrown across the ring, chopped across the chest so hard his skin welled up red and raw but he stood. He took a suplex that shook the canvas. Walter roared; Joshua spat blood and grinned.

The first spear came, brutal, a full-body missile that folded Walter in half.

But it wasn’t enough.

Walter kicked out.

The second spear landed even harder, and Joshua climbed the ropes for a Uso splash, invoking the bloodline, the legacy, and the brotherhood that burned in his veins.

He landed with all his might. 1… 2…

Still not enough.

Walter retaliated with desperation now. He grabbed the title belt—his title—and when the referee’s back was turned, he cracked Joshua across the head. The sound was sickening, a wet smack of gold on the skull.

Joshua collapsed.

The count began.

1… 2…

No.

He kicked out.

The roar of the crowd hit like a sonic boom. Hamisa was on her feet now. Jhream’s hands slapped at the air wildly. Something ancient awoke in Joshua. He felt his ancestors screaming through him, a surge of strength, a hurricane building in his soul.

Walter slapped on the sleeper. It was tight. The lights started to blur.

Joshua dropped to a knee.

He heard the crowd.

He heard Jhream.

He heard himself.

“YEET!” he screamed, rising.

Walter tried to tighten the hold, but Joshua fought through it, grabbing the ropes, prying fingers apart, and refusing to surrender.

And then the moment.

The crowd fell silent as Walter lifted him for a powerbomb.

But Joshua shifted mid-air—countered and slammed Walter down instead. The ring exploded with the impact.

Momentum shifted.

Another spear.

Joshua scaled the turnbuckle. Uso splash.

He didn’t stop.

Roll through.

Another Uso splash.

Roll through again.

Third Uso splash.

The crowd was a maelstrom now, shaking the very foundation of the stadium.

Then he locked it in.

The sleeper.

His sleeper.

Walter thrashed. Gasped. Reached.

And tapped.

The bell rang.

Joshua collapsed forward, chest heaving, the weight of the moment slamming down on him even harder than any chop from Walter ever could.

He had done it.

Joshua was the new World Heavyweight Champion.

The arena was molten with noise, a furious, joyful blaze. And from the back, he saw him.

Jon.

His twin.

His brother.

His blood.

Jon ran to the ring, tears in his eyes, throwing his arms around Joshua in a fierce, desperate hug. The moment gripped them both, two brothers who had once fought on makeshift rings in backyards, now standing atop the wrestling world.

Jon picked up the title and held it high, before handing it to Joshua, who fell to his knees.

Gold in hand. Legacy fulfilled.

He jumped over the barricade, the title over his shoulder. Jon followed behind.

Hamisa stood, and Joshua swept her and Jhream into his arms.

His daughter planted a wet, joyful kiss on his cheek. He laughed, tears now stinging his own eyes.

This was everything.

The four of them, Joshua, Jon, Hamisa, and baby Jhream walked through the crowd, basking in the warmth, the love, the roar of celebration.

As they reached backstage, the Gorilla Position already buzzed with congratulations and backslaps, Joshua heard the unmistakable sound of clinking glass.

His cousins, rowdy as ever, waited with bottles in hand, ready to pop the night off.

Hamisa chuckled, stepping aside as she adjusted Jhream on her hip.

“Go on,” she said, smiling, voice low and proud. “Have fun.”

Joshua grinned like a man who had just lived a thousand lives in twenty minutes. He kissed her again, briefly, before being engulfed by his family, friends, and a flurry of shots, chants, and laughter.

Later that night, the afterparty was held under neon lights and slow smoke. WrestleMania After Dark was half celebration, half fever dream.

Joshua arrived with Hamisa on his arm. Jon walked beside them, hand still glued to the title like he couldn’t quite believe it was real.

Everyone wanted a piece of him. People from the locker room, producers, celebrities. He smiled, he posed, he nodded but his heart remained tethered to Hamisa who meant the world to him.

A slow R&B track played. Hamisa looked dazzling in a silver dress, her presence as grounding as ever. Jon was already at the bar.

Joshua just leaned back against the booth for a moment, staring at the title in his lap. His fingers ran across the gold, tracing every ridge, every letter.

He thought about what it took to get here.

Every setback. Every injury. Every training session when he couldn’t walk afterward. Every loss. Every doubt.

But now he was the guy.

He turned toward Hamisa. “You believe this?”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Always did.”

Across the room, the DJ gave a shoutout to the new champion. The crowd erupted again. Joshua stood, lifted the belt high, and soaked it in.

The velvet glow of the afterparty wrapped around Joshua like a dream, one he hadn't quite accepted as real yet. The championship belt still felt heavy in his hand, but it was the kind of weight he welcomed. Earned. Fought tooth and soul for.

The music dipped into a smooth, bass-driven rhythm as a few fans approached, glasses in hand, faces lit with pride.

“Hell of a match,” one of them said, clinking glasses with him.

“You made WrestleMania,” another added. “That’s how you kick off night one.”

Joshua nodded, smiling politely. He appreciated it, he did but the noise around him felt distant. Like he was walking through the haze of a moment he’d dreamed so many times, it now felt more like memory than reality.

Jon came back from the bar, carrying drinks like a proud big brother at a family cookout. “Bro,” he said, handing him a glass. “You did it. You did the impossible. Walter tapped out. That’s wild.”

“Still don’t believe it,” Joshua said, taking a sip. The whiskey burned but in a good way. Cleansing. Like fire through the veins.

Jon leaned in. “You realize you headlined the start of WrestleMania, right? Not just the match. The moment.”

Joshua exhaled, gaze dropping to the gold again. “Yeah. And I walked out with it.”

But even more than the belt, more than the adrenaline, it was the walk through the crowd, with his daughter in one arm and the title in the other that stuck in his chest like lightning. That’s the moment he’d tell Jhream about when she got older.

You were there, baby girl. You were there when it all changed.

Later, in the VIP suite, Joshua quietly pushed open the door to the suite. It was quiet now, the lights dimmed. Hamisa had returned to the hotel after Joshua and Jon decided to hit up another afterparty. He found Hamisa lying curled on the couch, Jhream nestled on her chest, both sound asleep.

He smiled.

The belt was still slung over his shoulder, but he removed it now, laying it gently on the coffee table. He sat beside them, gently brushing a curl away from Jhream’s cheek.

“You were the loudest one out there,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “I heard you.”

Her tiny fingers twitched in her sleep like she felt him nearby. He kissed her forehead, then leaned back, pulling Hamisa gently into him.

She stirred slightly, eyes blinking open. “Hey, Champ.”

“Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I think I finally believe it.”

They sat there in the quiet for a long time. No cameras. No crowd. No adrenaline.

Just family.

The next morning, Joshua woke up with the sunlight spilling across his face. He was still in his party clothes, but the championship was now laid across his lap like a blanket of gold. Hamisa slept beside him again, arm looped around him.

He rubbed his face and looked around the suite.

“WrestleMania night one,” he said to himself with a low laugh. “And that was just night one.”

A knock came at the door. Jon peeked his head in, sunglasses on, holding coffee and breakfast burritos.

“You ready for today?”

Joshua smirked. “Brother, I was born ready.”

He took a sip of Jon’s coffee, groaned in satisfaction, then looked down at the title again.

The grind wasn’t over.

But he was no longer chasing the dream.

He was the dream.

The second night of WrestleMania fell on Easter Sunday and Hamisa knew she had to do something special. The idea came to her as she sat by the window of their hotel suite, sunlight filtering through gauzy curtains while Jhream napped with her chubby hands curled under her cheek.

WrestleMania was a thunderous, chaotic celebration of power and performance, but Easter? Easter was soft pastels, the scent of vanilla, the shimmer of foil-wrapped eggs. Hamisa decided the two could coexist.

With just a few calls and a little magic from WWE’s hospitality team, the venue hall in their hotel was transformed into something dreamlike: pastel streamers stretched like ribbons across the ceiling, a large arch of balloons formed a colorful gate at the entrance, and the scent of warm sugar wafted from the dessert table.

It was still early, just three hours before the entire roster would make their way to the arena for Night Two of WrestleMania but inside the hall, time softened into celebration.

Hamisa watched from the edge of the room, her hands gently resting on her hips as she surveyed the Easter Bash. Children of the WWE Superstars ran between activities, laughing, squealing, some dressed in tiny bunny costumes. At the center of the room, a long craft table had been arranged with egg coloring kits, pastel paints, and tubs of soft, plush fabric for making personalized stuffed animals. There was a kind of peaceful joy in the air, a moment of family before the roar of the crowd would pull them back into the spotlight.

The smell of warm wings and cheesy sliders wafted over to her as she turned toward the charcuterie board. It wasn’t a board, really, it was a table. An entire, glorious spread of fresh vegetables, spicy wings, golden fries, soft crackers, smoky cheeses, juicy fruit, and small bowls of savory spreads lined the table like a gourmet rainbow.

The dessert table glittered nearby with rice krispie treats shaped like eggs, sugar cookies decorated like flowers, cupcakes piled high with swirls of pastel frosting and at the center of it all, a bunny cake. Circular, covered with a thick, smooth layer of white frosting, it had pink fondant ears sticking straight up and a smiling face drawn in rainbow icing.

Hamisa laughed softly as she caught a few Superstars sneaking extra cookies, and a line of toddlers stood at the table, overwhelmed by the sheer choice of sugar.

Her phone buzzed. Instagram notifications were popping off, pictures and videos from the bash were already being posted to Stories. Wrestlers with their kids, selfies with pastel filters, close-ups of gooey desserts. The caption “Hamisa’s Easter Wonderland” floated across more than one video. She smiled.

Nearby, Joshua knelt in the grass outside for the next big moment of the day: The Great WrestleMania Easter Egg Hunt. Jhream waddled around in her pale yellow dress, basket in hand. Hamisa stepped outside, phone in hand, recording as she watched the moment unfold.

“Egg!” Jhream cried, her little voice rising in excitement as she spotted a plastic pink egg in the grass and dropped it into her basket.

“Good job, baby,” Joshua said with a grin.

“Daddy!” Jhream squealed as he pointed out another.

“I’m getting them all,” he said playfully as he guided her toward a shiny golden egg hidden beneath a bush.

Hamisa kept filming, her giggle soft behind the camera. The golden eggs were filled with cash, six total, spread throughout the field and Joshua had just nudged one into Jhream’s basket like it was no big deal.

“Golden one, huh?” Hamisa teased as she joined them. Joshua winked.

“She’s got the eye,” he said, lifting Jhream and spinning her in the air.

The entire morning felt like a dream. Sweet, warm, filled with love. But Hamisa’s heart fluttered for another reason entirely. Beneath the layers of joy and celebration, she was sitting on a secret. A big one.

Back in their suite, the mood shifted. The bash was over. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the skyline. Hamisa’s heart beat a little faster as she closed the door and set Jhream down. It was time.

Joshua helped Jhream out of her dress while Hamisa disappeared into the bathroom with her gear bag. She had only worn this ring gear once, in the mirror. White and gold. Clean lines. A silent statement. She stared at her reflection for a long time, smoothing the fabric down, adjusting the belt around her waist. Her hands trembled slightly, not with fear, but anticipation.

This was her first WrestleMania back since giving birth. She had returned at the Royal Rumble, but this? This was different. WrestleMania was sacred. And she wasn’t just making a cameo. She was about to wrestle on the grandest stage of all.

And no one, not even Joshua knew.

She stepped out quietly, her gear hidden beneath a long coat. Jhream was already in her little hoodie, watching cartoons. Joshua was distracted by a message on his phone from Pamela.

The walk to the car. The quiet ride to the arena. The whispered words exchanged in backstage corridors. Time blurred.

Later, Pamela and Joshua stood in gorilla at exactly 6:40 PM, watching the monitor. Jhream was curled in Joshua’s arms, sleepy but alert. Pamela’s arm rested protectively across his shoulder as the lights in the arena dimmed. The crowd roared.

And then the music hit.

Hamisa’s music.

The pop was massive.

Joshua’s jaw dropped.

“Mommy!” Jhream squealed, pointing at the screen with delight.

“That’s mommy,” Pamela said with a knowing smile.

“That pop was enormous,” Joshua murmured, stunned.

Hamisa emerged into the spotlight, white and gold gleaming under the arena lights. Her face shone with happiness as she made her way to the ring. The crowd was on fire. Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest.

The match began as she stood on the apron. Aoife was fighting with everything she had, but Gionna and Victoria had her cornered. Representing The Judgment Day, they were a dominant force. Aoife took a brutal big boot, fell back into the ropes, and crawled to the corner.

Tag.

The crowd exploded.

Hamisa stepped in.

And unleashed hell.

It was a perfect hot tag moment. Hamisa moved like lightning, spinning elbows, a knee to the midsection, a beautiful hurricanrana to Victoria. The crowd swelled with each strike. She was faster than they remembered. Sharper. Empowered.

Gionna swung wildly, Hamisa ducked, twisted and superkicked her into oblivion.

One, two, three.

It was over.

Hamisa and Aoife were the new WWE Women’s Tag Team Champions.

The crowd erupted in chants and cheers as Aoife collapsed into Hamisa’s arms. They hugged fiercely in the center of the ring, Aoife raising both belts, the Tag Team and her Intercontinental Championship, so high above her head. They looked like warriors, radiant and unstoppable under the shining lights of WrestleMania.

Back in gorilla, the moment was electric. People clapped and whooped, chanting her name. Jhream clapped her tiny hands, eyes wide and sparkling.

Hamisa and Aoife entered, breathless and gleaming with sweat. Paul stood there waiting, arms wide. He hugged them both, then turned to the photographer. The flash snapped as they posed, Hamisa and Aoife with their gold, basking in the moment.

Then she turned.

Joshua was waiting.

His eyes were soft, a mix of awe and disbelief. Jhream reached for her, tiny arms stretching.

“Are you surprised?” Hamisa asked, laughing as she crossed to him.

“I can’t believe you kept that from me,” Joshua said, his voice thick with emotion. He kissed her hard, then stepped back. “Congratulations, baby.”

“Thank you, baby,” Hamisa whispered, scooping up Jhream. The little girl wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and squeezed.

At the WrestleMania Post-Show Press Conference, Hamisa walked in with her belt slung over her shoulders and her daughter perched on her hip. The room was packed, camera lights flashing.

Jhream leaned toward the microphone, her fingers reaching.

“Say hi, baby,” Hamisa said gently, laughing as Jhream giggled and tried to talk into the mic.

Reporters asked about the match, the surprise, the partnership with Aoife.

“I was honored,” Hamisa said. “To help Aoife. To stand where Bayley should have. She earned that spot. I did it for her. For us. For the division.”

As she answered, Joshua crouched in the back, phone held high to film. Jhream spotted him.

“Daddy!” she shouted, waving.

“Focus, baby girl,” Joshua called back, and everyone laughed.

Hamisa smiled. “My goodness, they’re going to play this video when she main events WrestleMania 63.”

Jhream stood on Hamisa’s lap, clapping her hands.

The gold glinted in the lights.

A champion once more.

A mother always.

A legend in the making.

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