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ariestrxsh · 7 months ago

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customer!matt x stripper!reader

⁭🎀⁭ content warning: smut, lap dance, role play, fingering, oral (f!receiving) unprotected sex, praise, pussy worship, exchange of money for sex

🎀 summary: while working a busy night at your local strip club, you see a familiar face in the crowd, but the two of you pretend not to know each other for the night

if you're looking for a chris version with a similar storyline, you can read it here 💖

dividers by @/dollywons

Taste

I had just recently started my job at a local strip club, and because I was new and unsure about how the people in my life would react, I opted out of telling my friends and family about it, so instead I told everyone I got hired at a bar, which wasn't entirely false. We did serve alcohol.

It took me a few weeks to get comfortable dancing in my heels, and a month before my legs weren't sore after every shift. Having been here a little shy of six months, I was making enough money to spend on even sexier lingerie so I could bring in even more tips. I was also learning new tricks on the pole.

I liked my job honestly, and I didn't feel like there were many people who could say that. I liked the work, I liked the women I worked with, I got paid well, and I even liked a lot of the customers. I had fun teasing men and spending my time with them while they gave me money and attention. It was a nice exchange. And I felt like I was genuinely getting to know some of them, even though they weren't exactly getting to know me. I was putting on a persona, and it was usually catered to the person I was servicing at the time, but it's not like it wasn't me. It was just only one aspect of me that I amped up and played heavily into. But I loved it. I loved dressing up and playing a role that was so different from my everyday demeanor and being what these men wanted me to be. In my everyday life, I was reserved, introverted, and kept to myself most of the time, but when I was dancing, I was an exaggerated version of who I was when no one was looking. My fantasies, my sexual desire, an alter ego if you will.

It was almost my time to go on. I reapplied my body glitter and made a few finals tweaks to my outfit. I was wearing a white sparkly corset that pushed my breasts up nicely and a matching thong as well as glass six inch heels. I had my hair down but out of my face and curly. "Give it up for Mary Jane," the announcer came on. I didn't want to use my real name at my work, so I decided on Mary Jane because it was innocent sounding and was also nothing like my real name. 'Taste' by Tyga and Offset played over the speakers, there was a spotlight on me and other lights around me flashed and changed colors, and I seductively strutted towards the pole in front of me, gripping it with one hand and doing a little spin around it. I slowly descended down the pole with my back to it until I was in a squat, looking out at the crowd of men who were eager to see my body and what it could do. I came back up and hooked one of my legs around the pole, doing a ballerina spin around it. I could feel all these eyes on me, and I gained even more confidence as the dollar bills started raining at me feet.

I made eye contact with a few customers I recognized, men who were regulars. Then my gaze scanned across a familiar face that wasn't one I usually saw in this setting. Matt Sturniolo? In a strip club? This was not his scene at all. We were decently close friends, but I certainly hadn't told him I applied here, and I didn't think it was necessary considering I didn't think I'd ever see him here. He appeared to be alone. No one I recognized was near him. And when we made eye contact, he was looking at me some sort of way I'd never been looked at by him before, like he was hungry for me. He had to have recognized me, right? I may look different with my tits pushed up to my chin, but not that different.

I focused my attention back to my dance, manipulating the attention of every man in the room, contorting my body in ways that had every man wishing they were the pole between my legs. I finished my song, collected my ones, tucked them into my corset, and carefully got down from the stage.

Once I looked up from watching my feet as I stepped off the stage, I saw Matt making his way over to me. I was really nervous about what he might say. If he'd be mad that I didn't tell him I was working here or if he'd tease me. Instead, he looked me up and down with his lust-filled blue eyes and licked his lips. "How much for a dance from you?" He asked me, smiling. He couldn't be serious. I hesitated for a second. I had never been put in a position where someone I recognized outside of the club came in and asked me for a dance.

On some level, it felt inappropriate. On another level, it felt like a bad business move to not take him up on it. "$100 for three songs," I responded nonchalantly. He casually took a $100 bill out of his wallet and tucked it into my corset with my other money. I liked the way he did that. Then he grabbed me by the waist and started walking with me towards the back of the club where he could sit down. "So, Mary Jane, did they say?" Matt asked as he sunk into his chair and looked up at me, almost as if studying the way I was gonna respond.

Was he going to pretend he didn't know me? Was this part of the fantasy, acting like we were two strangers who just met in a strip club when we're actually pretty close friends outside of this. I nodded. I turned around and began grinding on him, and he grabbed my waist in response, slowly running his fingers down my curves. "How long have you worked here, Mary Jane? Matt asked me. "Nearly six months," I replied while I shifted my weight so I was resting right against his half-hard cock. He let out a groan in response. "It's a shame I've missed you any time I've been in here," he answered. "You come here often?" I asked, it sounding like a bad pick up line in my head. "Sometimes, depends on what's going on in my life. Depends on my needs at the time," he told me. I didn't know that about Matt.

There was something about being on his lap, brushing up against his hardening member in his pants that was turning me on more than I thought it should be. I had given men lap dances before that I'd found attractive, and it definitely left me a little wet a few times. But this was different. I definitely had always found Matt attractive, and there was an extra layer to this, Matt and I acting like this was our first time meeting. The way his demeanor was different in this setting and the way mine was too. I was beginning to wonder if I was starting to enjoy this more than he was.

"I wanna see your face," Matt growled into my ear, and I obliged by turning around and straddling him. I went back to basically riding him with our clothes on while we looked into each other's eyes. Matt's hands almost immediately found their way to my ass. "You have an incredible body, you know that?" Matt commented. "You're not so bad yourself," I smirked at him. Matt's hands moved from my ass to my breasts. The way he handled me was gentle but with purpose and demanding at the same time. I loved the way his hands traced my body while I continued to grind against him. "Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad," Matt responded, staring at my lips. "You can if you have another $100 on you," I replied. No matter how badly I wanted to kiss him, I made it a rule that I'd always charge for intimate touch like that, because the men had to know it was transactional. I didn't want to make anyone feel lead on. This was my job, and this was a sale.

Matt shifted my hips so that I was straddling his knee now instead as he reached for his wallet in his pocket. I found myself holding my breath as his leg rubbed up against my already wet cunt and caused friction that sent a shock of pleasure through my nerve endings. It took everything in me to keep from riding his thigh while he pulled another benjamin out of his wallet and tucked it into the bra of my corset. I leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft and pouty. His kiss was gentle, the same as his touch. His tongue slowly slipped into my mouth and brushed against my own. It was wet and velvety. While he passionately kissed me, his hands made their way to my face, softly cupping it. I pulled away, looking at him with a deep desire.

"Your three songs are almost over," I whispered, maintaining control of the situation. "I can pay for another three songs," Matt said, about to shift me onto his knee again. "Matt, please. As your friend, I can't let you do this. $300 is a lot of money to be spending at a strip club," I lectured him, breaking character. "Mary Jane, tonight I'm just another customer. I make my own money, I can spend it how I like," Matt bit his lip at me. "I wanna spend it on you, baby. I wanna spoil you," his words sent more waves of ecstacy through my body.

"Alright, another three songs," I said putting out my hand to accept another bill. "Actually, how much to take you to the private room?" Matt gestured towards the more intimate spaces where no one could see us. "All that you have in your wallet," I said jokingly, making a gun with my hand and jabbing it into his chest, but he took me seriously. He pulled out his wallet, grabbed a wad of cash, stuck it in my g-string this time, and tipped his wallet upside down to show me it was empty all while he smiled. I reached down to the money he'd put in my panties. "Only catch is, I want you for the whole night. Until the club closes," Matt growled while I counted the money. There was almost $1000 in my hand. I was shocked that Matt had this kind of money to blow at a strip club. And the fact that he did this semi-regularly? Matt was very quiet about how much money he had and about what a freak he was, and I liked that.

I thought about declining his offer and telling him I couldn't mix business, friendship, AND pleasure. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I'd be dumb not to. He was hot, he wanted me, and I'd never made this much money in one night before. "Deal," I said, tucking the money into my corset. Matt grinned at me. "Follow me," I said, leading him back.

I'd taken men into the private rooms before many times, and I liked it. It was quieter, away from all the noise. There was a bed and a couch. Usually, men would take me in there because they wanted more privacy. I'd never slept with a customer, no matter how much I'd been offered, but there were a few times where I'd definitely maybe crossed an ethical line that could technically get the club in trouble, but I'd never tell. I was good at keeping secrets. There were a few men I'd given handjobs to, one john who had taken my tits out of my bra and teased my nipples with his tongue, and one guy who rubbed my clit over my panties until he made me cum. I remembered being so embarrassed and blushing after that encounter, but that was the most money I'd ever made in one night. Until tonight.

"Why don't you take that top off?" Matt inquired when we were alone in the room. I smirked at him as I pulled all the cash out of my bra and set it next to my shoes I'd slipped out of to get more comfortable. I was nervous for him to see me like this, but it was just business. I started undoing the clasps on my corset when Matt came up behind me to help me. When all the hooks were undone, Matt slowly slid my straps down my shoulders one by one. He let my corset slowly fall to the ground, and when it did, he took both breasts into his hands and looked at them in awe. "Shit," he whispered to himself, fondling them, brushing up against my sensitive nipples.

Matt made his way to the couch and comfortably sprawled out, taking up space and licking his lips while his eyes studied my every curve while running his hand along his hard dick in his pants. "Come here, princess," Matt said, rubbing his leg and patting it, motioning for me to sit down, so I did. Once I leaned back into him, he played with my nipples some more, teasing them, pinching them, sucking on them. His hands slowly moved to the front of my panties, rubbing me through the fabric for a few minutes, and moved my thong aside while I sat on his lap. "Your pussy looks so pretty with your panties all pushed to the side like that," Matt complimented me in a voice that was barely above a whisper as he reached for it. When he started moving his fingers in circles skillfully around my clit, I let out a soft moan. "Oh, you're so wet, darling," Matt observed, exploring me with his hands. I loved sitting on his lap like a giddy little girl. His touch felt amazing. He slipped a finger inside of me and then another one while he looked down at my entrance, enthralled by how much wetter he was making me. "Oh, Matt," I whimpered as I started to get close. "Come on pretty girl. Cum all over my fingers," Matt smirked. I couldn't believe I was hearing these words leave Matt's mouth, but I took them as a command. I came unraveled while I sat on his knee with his fingers pumping in and out of me. I felt my body tense up and tremble for a few seconds, and then a glorious release.

"Good girl. You think I could make you cum again?" Matt cooed, licking his fingers while I tried to catch my breath, but I nodded and smiled. He lifted me up off his lap, revealing a wet spot on his pants under where I was sitting, and Matt seemed turned on by it. He sat me on the couch and got down on his knees on the floor between my legs. He pulled my panties to the side again, and I felt his hair tickle my thigh as he leaned it and attached his lips to my vulva. He teased me by kissing and licking everywhere but my clit while he looked up at me, smiling. "Please Matt," I whined, tugging at his curls, trying to bring him closer to where I wanted him to lick me, but he was doing it on purpose, making me beg for it, and he loved it. "Your pussy is so pretty up close and personal like this. Let me take my time with her," he smirked, teasing my entrance and kissing the insides of my thighs. He finally gave in after a few more minutes of my relentless pleading, manipulating my sweet spot with his tongue. He started moving it faster and more enthusiastically. It felt so good, I found myself sliding down on the couch, slowly but surely inching my pussy towards his face. He grabbed my hips and held me in place while he passionately moaned against me, sending shivers through my body. Matt was surprising me by the minute. He was certainly a jack of all trades, and I was learning I didn't even know a lot about him at all, only the parts that he wanted me to see. And the more I saw, the more I liked.

I started digging my nails into his shoulders as he continued to eat me like a mad man, running his hands and his tongue anywhere he pleased, and every time I was responsive to the way he touched me, he moved more eagerly. I was a moaning, writhing wreck under the flick of his tongue the carress of his fingers. I had never let a customer go down on me before. There were a lot of ethical boundaries I was willing to cross at this point for Matt. It just made it even hotter that we were playing into this fantasy that we didn't know each other and that he was just paying for a stripper - and at this point, basically a prostitute. I liked that Matt was paying me to eat my pussy. What a dream. And he was so wonderful at it too. Such attention to detail. So thorough. So restrained yet so urgent. I couldn't get enough of how much he wanted me.

"I'm so fucking in love with your pussy, I could eat you for hours," Matt mumbled in between licks. He closed his lips around my swollen bud and gently sucked on it until I was trembling and nearly screaming his name. "Yes, pretty girl. Make a mess on my tongue. I know you can do it," he cooed. His encouragement along with his skillful mouth had my second orgasm hitting me even harder than the first. I couldn't keep my hips from grinding against Matt's tongue while I twitched and whimpered obscenities, gripping the back of his head.

"Oh my fucking god. Where did you learn to do that?" I smiled down at him once I started to recover from my intense climax. "You're the one who basically showed me what to do with your body language. All I had to do was listen," he smirked. His answer was as hot as what he had just done to me. I liked the way Matt was in tune with my body, and the way he was trying things out to see how I'd react and then doing the things I loved over and over again. It was similar to how I behaved with my customers.

"Have you ever gone down on any other women in these clubs?" I asked him. "No, not ever. This was a first for me," he confided in me, which made me feel special. "First for me too. Guess it wouldn't hurt if we went further.." my voice started to trail off. "Say no more, princess," Matt said, finally taking the time to take off my panties instead of just moving them to the side again.

He unbuttoned his pants, pulled down his boxers, and entered me with no warning. I felt myself invite him in easily, and he started pumping in and out out of me aggressively. I loved the way he filled me and the way he spoke to me. I loved the way his lips parted to let out a stream of moans and the way he looked at me with his glazed over blue eyes, letting me know he couldn't take it much longer. His cock repeatedly hitting my pleasure spot was sending me over the edge again. I throbbed around his thickness as another wave crashed over me, and I got lost in it for a moment. All I could feel was endless pleasure, and there was a ringing in my ears that lasted for several minutes after I came. Matt loudly groaned "Oh, fuck," while he pulled out, leaving a mess on my pussy, and we both watched as his cock twitched and released his sticky white substance. He smiled down proudly and in awe of the way his ejaculate glistened on my womanhood.

He collapsed on the couch beside me after it was all over. "You're so much different at work as opposed to the shy girl I see every day," Matt nudged me. "Not shy, just keep my cards close to my chest," I corrected him. "But yeah, you're so much different as well. Who knew you could fuck like that?" I said, licking my lips, and he grinned as I complimented him.

"I've gotta go, sweetheart. The club is closing in ten minutes, and I've gotta come up with something to tell Chris and Nick about why I've been gone for several hours," he laughed. He leaned down one more time to stroke my face, and he gave me a sensual, slow, deep kiss. "Matt, seriously, come again. I loved doing business with you," I smiled up at him, not wanting him to leave. "I'll be back darling. Don't worry. I'd pay a million dollars if I had it to drown in that sweet pussy again. Just promise me, it'll be our little secret."

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #ariestrxsh #taste

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milksnake-tea · 1 year ago

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━━ duty calls.

Created around the same time and having trained with one another, you and Casper have always butted heads. You'd compete over seemingly anything - how many souls one could reap, the days one could go without catching soul sickness, and the list goes on. Casper has always found you to be obnoxious, but when he sees you crying by yourself, he finds himself torn.

grim x gn!reaper!reader

contains: fluff, hurt/comfort, set before the main storyline, reader is NOT the mc, brief mentions of child death, USAGE OF GRIM'S REAL NAME, reader is a little shit

word count: 4.2k

a/n: FORGIVE ME IF THE WORLDBUILDING IS OFF I WAS TRYING MY BEST and ive only done one ending oops (finals hurts okay :((( ) also ... im not sure if reapers names are classified just to mortals and not other reapers but ykw imma take my liberties

"Seriously, do you ever get tired?"

Casper groaned irritatedly, running a hand through his snow-like hair. Blood like rust coated his scythe, spoils from his most recent hunt. The corpse still lay fresh in front of him, but their skin was cold and their eyes dead.

Boisterous laughter erupted above him. Sitting on the balcony of some person’s apartment, you grinned down at him - that infuriating, shit-eating grin that never failed to tick him off.

You kicked your legs childishly as you leaned back over the railing. Nestled against the crook of your arm was a scythe similar to his own, save for the more detailed design and color palette. Unlike him, you would constantly say, you liked to live a little.

Bold words coming from a bringer of death.

“Don’t blame me for you being slow,” you called down to him. Casper rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he glared up at you.

“I am not ‘slow’,” he grumbled. “You’re too eager. And get down from there, you’ll be spotted.”

You tilted your head. “It’s like, 3 A.M. What kind of idiot’s gonna be awake at this hour?”

“You’d be surprised. Humans will do anything but take care of themselves.”

“I guess,” you sighed, jumping down. You twirled your scythe absentmindedly, Casper leaning back to avoid getting hacked to pieces.

“Be careful with that,” he scolded. You, of course, ignored him.

“So are these the last of the guys?” you wondered, kicking at a corpse with your foot.

The alleyway was practically lined with bodies, so many that management had called upon both you and Casper to deal with the remnants of the massacre. Gang fights were a pain to deal with, second only to pandemics and war.

“It would seem so.” Casper gave you a look, to which you responded by sticking out your tongue. You were very mature, after all.

You stretched thankfully, rolling out your shoulder. “Thank God, I was starting to get depressed from all the dead people.”

“If you’re getting depressed from just this, perhaps you should consider a different career choice.”

“Nah.” You smiled. “If I left, who would I bully? You’d get all sad and lonely without me.”

“Hardly,” Casper scoffed. “If anything, I’d be relieved.”

“You wound me.”

“Good.”

“So mean,” you pouted. Casper paid you no attention, as per usual. It didn’t matter, though, since you immediately perked back up. “Hey, boo?”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“I have an idea.” And just like that, your cheshire grin returned. Casper sighed, already beginning to walk off.

“How wonderful,” he said sarcastically. “Share it with someone else.”

“Uh-uh, no.” As quick as a flash, your scythe was out, the blade curving in front of Casper to prevent his escape. “This one’s good, I swear.”

“Your definition of what is and isn’t a good idea needs some desperate fixing.” Still, he made no move to escape, instead turning around to face you.

“Let’s race.”

Casper raised a brow. “Race?”

You nodded eagerly, your eyes shining like jewels. In the darkness of the alleyway, the two of you were illuminated only by the neon blue lights of the city. Yet, as that same blue was captured in your eyes, Casper was reminded of a kaleidoscope, changing and turning in a multitude of different colors.

It was… captivating.

“If I win, you have to buy me a drink.”

Casper snapped out of his daze, a light flush blooming across his fair skin. Thankfully, though, you didn’t seem to notice, too entranced by another one of your ridiculous competitions. Seriously, there had to be a limit to how unprofessional you could be.

“You assume I have the time to buy you one,” he said with faux calmness, grateful for the night’s shadows hiding his complexion. You huffed.

“You could do it while you’re rebalancing yourself,” you said, as though it was obvious. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be anything big, just a coffee or a tea would be nice.”

“Fine, let’s say I stoop down to your level and agree to this… race,” said Casper. “What do I get if I win?”

You shrugged. “Then I'll just buy you a drink.”

Casper shook his head. “I’m not like you. I don’t drink on the job.”

“But you do cuddle an axolotl plushie when you sleep,” you pointed out. Instantly, Casper flushed red.

“Wha- What does that have to do with anything?!” he protested.

"I just thought about it randomly," you shrugged. "But seriously, that thing is huge, where did you get it?"

“Never mind how I got it," Casper crossed his arms and averted his eyes, his bottom lip turning up in a pout. “We’re getting off track.”

“Oh, so now you care about my games,” you teased. “Anyways, on how I’ll reward you…”

You spun your scythe back to your side, tapping its staff against the ground as you thought of a fitting reward.

“Oh! How about this?” You snapped your fingers, a figurative light bulb lighting up next to you. “You get to cash in one favor from me.”

“Any favor?” A smirk creeped onto Casper’s face, his interest finally piqued. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, [Name].”

“As long as it’s within reason and isn’t embarrassing,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “If you make me kiss your feet or something like that, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Of course,” Casper chuckled knowingly. “So, where to and when are we racing?”

“Hey, if you weren’t paying attention to the rules, then that's your fault. As for when the race starts, how about… now.”

“Wha- Hey!” Casper barely dodged as you shot past him in a blur of black. Hooking your scythe into the walls, you stuck out your tongue at him as you propelled yourself through the night.

“So long, Casp!”

Casper cursed under his breath. Quickly, he made haste to follow you. He flew through the air like a bird, twisting around light poles, skyscrapers, and billboards alike.

You weren’t as elegant, instead jumping from building to building like a modern superhero. You’d catapult yourself through the sky using your scythe as leverage, your laughter echoing in the slumbering city - free like the wind.

Casper didn’t have to follow you long to know where you were heading towards. Invisible to the mortal eye, yet painfully obvious to the eyes of reapers, was an entrance to the Underworld, a whirlpool of black and red that led straight down to your home.

As you launched yourself into the air once again, Casper came up next to you, his hair billowing in the cold night wind like smoke.

“Nice of you to join me,” you teased, elbowing him in the side. Casper rolled his eyes once again, speeding up. “Hey!”

Smoky tendrils of crimson and ink curled around your figures as the two of you neared the portal. The center of the whirlpool was a void seemingly leading to the abyss itself, but you’ve worked in this job long enough to know just what lay beneath.

True to his character, Casper wasted no time and shot straight into the thick of it. You, on the other hand, were a little more dramatic with your landing.

You spun in a backflip off of the last of the skyscrapers before letting gravity take you for a ride. Wind whistled past your ears as you fell, yet all you could hear was the rapid thump of your own heart. Adrenaline filled your veins. Soon, black and red lined your vision as the Underworld engulfed you.

The second you saw the tips of red-stained towers, you flipped yourself to face the ground. Closer and closer, you could practically taste it. If you delayed any longer, your life as a grim reaper could end prematurely.

Like the eyes of a devil, your pupils glowed in delight, activating your abilities. But rather than slowing your descent, you sped it up, shooting towards the ground like a missile.

Black blobs, the fuzzy images of your coworkers, scrambled to move out of your way. Turning your body, you landed hard on your heels, narrowly missing a fellow reaper.

For a moment, all you could see was dust. Before the clouds could disappear, you shook off the sting in your ankles and stretched.

“Woo!” you cheered, kicking your leg. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“Quiet down.” Casper grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. “Honestly, is there ever a quiet moment with you?”

You giggled. “Boo, you’ve known me long enough to know the answer to that. Oh, by the way, I’m craving some-”

“Hold it.” Casper bonked your head. “I only agreed to buy you something if you won.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No you didn’t,” Casper retorted. “Anyone with working eyes could see that I reached the ground before you did. Therefore, I won.”

“Uh, no.” You crossed your arms. “Are you gaslighting me? You’re gaslighting me. That's not very nice of you, Casp.”

“I am not gaslighting you.” Your white-haired coworker rolled his eyes. “As grim reapers, we cannot lie. Someone of your caliber should know this.”

You blinked innocently. “Did you just compliment me?”

Casper spluttered. “What in the world made you come to that conclusion?”

Taking a step forward, you leaned towards the reaper, a cheeky smile growing on your face. “You said ‘Someone of your caliber’. That means you think I’m capable.”

“You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to be incompetent after working as a reaper for so long,” Casper crossed his arms, fighting down the blush rising onto his cheeks. You were close, way too close. “Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as how that was the only thing you heard from what I said.”

Heaving a sigh, he pushed you away with his finger.

“But don’t distract yourself from the fact that I won the race,” he said, a smug smirk replacing his exasperation.

“I was honestly trying to forget.”

Casper huffed, a pout forming on his lips. But the moment wouldn’t last long, as a ding sounded from both of your phones. When you checked it, you groaned when you saw a notification of unexpected emergency.

“Seriously?” you complained. “Overtime? Did a bunch of reapers die off or something? My soul’s going to get tainted at this rate.”

“Don’t complain.” Casper nudged you, but even you could see the irritation on his face. “It’s our job as reapers to reap souls on time, no matter what.”

“I guess. Still doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

“Agreed.” With a sigh, Casper summoned his scythe. “I must be off, now. See you on the other side, [Name].”

As he made his way back to the opening of the portal, his feet lifting off from the ground, a gloved hand reached out to grasp your chin. Gently, he guided you to look at him as he ascended.

“I look forward to cashing in on that favor.”

━

For as long as you could remember, things have always been this way.

Your earliest memory was of waking up to the crimson skies of the Underworld. Unaware and unknowing, you allowed yourself to be dragged around by older reapers, their voices blurring together in a droning buzz. Everything had gone by so quickly, and you struggled to keep up with it all.

If you were to say it bluntly, your first day felt like a fever dream.

But amidst the chaos, the tutorials, and the gifting of your first scythe, there was one thing that you remembered clearly.

“...Snow.”

Your mentor’s lecture halted at your voice, barely audible. They followed your gaze to a white-haired man, looking to be around the same age as you. Like a drowsy child, you lifted your finger and pointed at him, looking back to your mentor.

“He’s like snow.”

Their eyes softened by the tiniest bit, having seemingly realized that you were still disorientated. After all, in a sense, you had just been born.

“I suppose he is.” Putting a hand on your shoulder, they guided you away from the man. “Now, as I was saying…”

Their voice faded away into the background as the white-haired man noticed your gaze. He turned to look at you, his ruby-like eyes like blood speckles against the winter landscape. You stared at each other for only a few seconds before you turned to follow your mentor.

You quickly forgot the pretty stranger, but you would stay in his memories for quite a while before you’d cross paths again. In the darkness of the Underworld, you were like a lantern - radiating warmth and familiarity.

You were beautiful, like a flower in summer. That was, until he met you for the second time.

Swiftly and ruthlessly, holding true to your occupation as a reaper, you cut apart any premonitions he had had about you. When you were put against him to spar by your mentors, the drowsiness had worn off - instead replaced by insufferable audacity.

As your scythes clashed, sparks flying between the two of you and burning him in the process, your mouth just wouldn’t stop moving, stop talking. The innocently sleepy look on your face was replaced with a shit-eating grin as you blocked his attacks, trapping him in a frenzied dance.

“What’s wrong, boo?” you laughed, twirling your scythe to drive him back. “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.”

Casper’s eyebrow twitched at the nickname; you wouldn’t stop calling him that ever since you learned his real name. He didn’t understand where it came from, but just the way you said it was enough to annoy him.

“Hardly,” he scoffed, his boots kicking up dust as they skidded against the ground. He was quick to lunge back at you, his movements precise as he swung his blade. “If anything, I’d wager that you’re the one tiring out.”

“Ha!” You ducked under his attack and sprung forward, Casper’s hair tickling at your face as you came nose to nose with him. Startled, Casper had no time to react as you slammed the end of your scythe’s staff into his chest.

Before he knew it, Casper’s back was against the ground, your boot on his chest, and your scythe at his neck.

Your breaths were heavy as you looked down on him, but your eyes glowed with triumphant victory. The fight may have been more exhausting than you’d like to admit, but the view you had was well worth the effort.

Beneath you, Casper struggled to catch his own breath, his chest heaving under the soles of your foot. His white hair splayed around him like a halo, and his face was tickled pink from the fight.

Even in defeat, he was beautiful.

You leaned forward, putting your weight on your knee. Casper grunted as you pressed harder on him. Just for the fun of it, you pressed your scythe’s blade against his chin and guided him to look up at you and your grin.

“I win,” you sang mockingly.

Casper groaned, letting his head fall against the floor. You laughed heartily, stepping off of him and instead extending your hand to him. Without a second thought, Casper took it, allowing you to pull him to his feet and dust him off.

“That’s what, victory number twenty-one?” you asked, stretching. “That means I’m in the lead now, Casp.”

“Whatever,” Casper scoffed, dusting off his chest where your foot had been. “I’m sure the score will even out in no time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you squinted at him. Casper stuck his tongue out at you.

“I don’t know, what does it mean?”

You hit his chest playfully. Casper grunted, glaring at you from the corner of his eye.

That’s how it had always been, after all. You and Casper would go back and forth in this tantalizing dance, exchanging jabs and jokes at the same time.

To Casper, you were insufferable, but annoyingly capable. To you, Casper was way too serious and stuck up, yet had that charm about him that made you want to tease him at every possible opportunity.

But for many, many years, your relationship never went further than mere friends - if Casper even wanted to call you that.

━

The day Casper’s view of you changed was like a stormy sky - dark, yet light still managed to peek through.

You’d come back to headquarters with a solemn look upon your face. For someone who had just come back from a mission, you were oddly… clean. There wasn’t a trace of blood on your clothes, yet your eyes were dark, haunted. Even your scythe’s shine seemed dull.

For the reapers, to have someone normally so loud and full of life be reduced to this, was frightening. They’d grown used to your smile, your voice, your light. You parted crowds with your uncharacteristically serious aura; if there was anything a sensible reaper feared, it was the wrath of a joyous soul.

Immediately after turning in your report to headquarters, you disappeared from the public eye.

When Casper first heard the news, he had brushed it off. You were probably just having a bad day, he tried to assure himself. Maybe you’d finally realized the grimness that came with your profession. Maybe the soul you’d reaped was especially troublesome and gave you a run for your money.

Despite his attempts to make up explanations for your behavior, he couldn’t stop the worry from gnawing at his heart. It twisted in his chest like soul sickness, an ailment that he wasn’t used to nor did he understand. It even followed him into his work, plaguing his mind and distracting him as he reaped soul after soul.

He’d made haste to return home, knowing that this illness would only worsen if he stayed out.

The Underworld was always dark, but that day, the sky was pitch black. Eager to return to the comfort of his bed, he quickly made his way to one of the many apartment complexes in which reapers resided.

However, just before he opened the door to his room, his hand stilled at the sound of crying.

Now, sadness wasn’t an uncommon emotion in the Underworld. Ghosts, sinners, and demons alike wailed and screamed their woes into the night. Their cries were as common as the sound of rushing cars in a human city.

But not for reapers, especially in their home. Reapers, at their core, were cold, emotionless, and ruthless - they needed to be, in order to do their jobs properly. A reaper’s tears were rare, almost taboo.

The more Casper listened, he soon recognized a familiar voice among those sniffles: yours.

Could it be? He looked up to the rooftop, his hand wavering. His soul pulsed in his chest, warning him to ignore you and focus on himself. But his heart argued back.

Casper glanced once more at the doorknob to his room. Cursing himself, he heaved a sigh and walked away - moving towards the staircase leading to the rooftop.

As he emerged onto the rooftop, the first thing he noticed was how clear the sky was. Its crimson blanket was more like that of a rose’s rather than bloodstains, and if he squinted, he could perhaps delude himself into seeing a few stars.

Then came you.

Casper’s heart plummeted in his chest when he saw your form curled into itself. You sat at the edge of the rooftop, your knees pulled up to your chest and your face buried in your arms. Your back was to him, but Casper saw the way your shoulders trembled.

He tried to take a step towards you, tried to reach to you with his hand, but hesitated. What would he even say? What could he say? What could he do?

His thoughts halted when you took a deep, shuddered breath, your voice raw from cry.

“What do you want, Casper.”

Casper. Not Casp, not boo, not any of the annoying nicknames that you called him by.

“I…”

He stepped back, feeling fear for perhaps the first time in his life. For the first time, he was unsure of what to do.

You couldn’t see him, but you heard him walk away and descend the staircase. You laughed hollowly, wiping at your face with your hand.

“What was I even expecting…” you muttered bitterly, gripping at your own arms for support. “Why would he of all people…”

You shut your eyes tighter. Without the company of the sky and the city, you were left alone with your thoughts. Memories of what you had witnessed laughed in your mind, latching onto you like a parasite and refusing to let go.

You were never afraid of blood, nor of death, but today, just the thought of it made you nauseous.

Something soft nudged at your elbow. Blinking your eyes open, you warily looked to your side.

However, instead of seeing a person, you came face to face with a bright pink axolotl plushie.

You and the plushie stared at each other for a good minute, neither of you knowing what to make of the other. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar, exasperated sigh from behind the plushie that you realized what it was.

“Don’t just stare at him,” Casper mumbled, pushing the plushie against you. You blinked owlishly, before hesitantly taking the plushie into your arms.

Hugging it against your chest, you rested your chin on top of its head. The plushie was oddly warm, yet comforting. Casper sat beside you, silent and gazing up towards the sky. For a while, the two of you simply sat in this silence, with the only thing breaking it being your quiet sniffles.

“...She was just a kid,” you finally spoke, catching Casper’s attention and making him look at you. You, however, kept your gaze straight ahead to the city lines, refusing to meet his gaze. “She was just a little girl, and yet they… they…”

You hugged the plushie a little tighter.

“I just can’t understand how humans can be so cruel to each other.”

Casper’s gaze turned downcast. “That’s how they’ve always been. Life is cruel, even to the purest of souls.”

“It’s not fair.”

“Hardly anything is.”

“It shouldn’t have been her. It should’ve been that bastard that murdered her.”

“He’ll get what he deserves. Karma will catch up to him.”

“But what if it doesn’t? What if he gets let off?”

“He won’t.”

Unexpectedly, you let out a snort at Casper’s deadpanned voice - so assured and serious. Casper raised a brow, looking at you inquisitively.

“You know,” you said, raising your head. “You’re somehow really bad and really good at comforting people.”

“What?” Casper wrinkled his nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. Actually, that’s one of the things I like about you.”

“That I’m apparently a bad comforter?”

“No, silly.” You leaned your head on the plushie again, only this time you were looking at your coworker. “Your seriousness. How you’re always so confident in yourself. How even if you don’t know what you’re doing, you still try.”

Red bloomed across Casper’s face like a flowering blossom, reaching from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze.

“It’s not fair when you start saying things like that,” he mumbled. You giggled a little, leaning onto his shoulder with his plushie still in your arms.

“I’m just being honest,” you hummed. “Or maybe I’m coping. I dunno.”

Casper chuckled, but made no move to push you off him. You closed your eyes. The turmoil in your heart was still there, of course, but with Casper against you, it eased up just a little.

“Seriously though, thank you,” you said. “For coming up here for me and, well, everything.”

“It was nothing,” Casper replied. “You were looking pretty pathetic, all depressed and all.”

You huffed. “Just admit you care about me, Casp. Is that so hard?”

Casper grumbled something unintelligible, before lifting his arm. You squeaked as he wrapped it around your shoulders, pulling you closer against him. With your head laid against his collarbone, you could feel every breath he took as well as the rapid beat of his heart.

“[Name],” he said quietly. “Remember the favor you promised me? For winning the race?”

“Mm… yeah. What about it?”

“I’d like to cash it in right now.”

“Oh lord,” you chuckled. “Alright, what do you want?”

“Whatever happens next, don’t tell anyone,” Casper whispered.

Your lips curled into a smile. “You know, Casp, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were about to do something weird.”

You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was rolling his eyes.

“Be quiet for a moment, will you?”

You grinned. “Ah, but that’s two favors, not-”

Casper shut you up with a soft kiss to your head. It was brief, so quick that for a second you almost thought you had dreamed it.

In your stunned silence, Casper spoke again.

“Forgive me if I’m being greedy, but I’ll ask for a third favor,” he said. “No matter what happens, promise me you won’t deal with it by yourself.”

His grip around you tightened.

“Please.”

You nuzzled closer into the crook of his neck.

“...I promise.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#a date with death #a date with death x reader #adwd #adwd x reader #adwd casper #adwd casper x reader #casper x reader #casper #x reader #y/n #reader insert #grim reaper #grim reaper x reader #archives 🏵️

1K notes · View notes

usoinked · 1 month ago

Note

Hii! I love your last jey fic with him being possessive! Could you pls do one where he & the reader get into a fight over her being insecure with his story line with Rhea so he keeps her in their hotel for a whole weekend to show her who he truly wants. Maybe some toxic comments like "you think she gets this dick ma? Nah only you"

Love your writing!! Hope this makes sense haha <3

Omggg thank you so much and ofc!! Y’all know I love writing about Jey 🫶🏽🌚

CW: Toxicity, Arguing, Begging, Praising 18+ MDNI, SMUT, cursing, use of n word, unprotected p in v, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k+

You and Jey Uso were in a 2 year relationship, going on 3 years and for the most part everything was fine….was. There were always the usual bumps—scheduling conflicts, long road trips, and the occasional argument—but you had always managed to work through them. The love between you both was solid, built on mutual respect and understanding. That was, until the recent storyline with Rhea Ripley started to change everything.

At first, you could brush it off. You knew that wrestling was just that—wrestling. A scripted, fictionalized world where interactions were meant to stir emotions and get fans invested in the show. You were okay with that. You understood the boundaries and had even joked about how you’d have to share Jey with his fans and his colleagues. But something felt different this time. Rhea wasn’t just a colleague—there was something in the way she interacted with Jey that rubbed you the wrong way. It wasn’t just friendly banter; it was flirtation, and you couldn’t ignore it.

It started small—a teasing smile, a lighthearted comment during interviews, or the occasional touch on his arm after a segment. You told yourself it was just for the cameras. But the more you watched, the more it became clear that there was more to it than that. Every time Jey was near Rhea, he would act differently—more animated, more playful, more engaged. The two of them seemed to have a connection that went beyond the usual working relationship, and it left you feeling…uneasy.

Weeks passed, and the playful flirtation continued. Rhea would smile at him in a way that made you feel like you weren’t even in the room. The way her eyes lingered on him, the way her hand would rest on his shoulder a little too long, the way she laughed at his jokes—it wasn’t normal. It felt personal, and you started to feel like you were on the outside looking in. The jealousy was subtle at first, but as time went on, it began to eat at you more and more. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more between them, something you weren’t being told.

You were currently at the apartment you both shared when you saw a segment on your screen involving Jey and Rhea Ripley…again….she was cool at first until Jey and her started flirting back and forth. You knew that this was his job, but that still didn’t make you any less jealous…insecure even. The way she smiled at him when he made the motion to call him, the way she looked him up and down while smiling at him because of his appearance alone, and especially them being that close….it was enough to make you want to turn your tv off. You wanted to watch your man wrestle and look good but not while he was flirting with another female. Fuck no. Not only was it pissing you off, but Jey wasn’t answering his phone after the show ended. Granted you did give him a 30 minute grace period in case he had any dark matches or needed to pack up anything extra…but then it became 45….then an hour…then two hours. You might’ve been born at night but not last night.

Jey had always made an effort to check in after the show, even if it was late. He’d send you a text, make sure you were okay, let you know that he was thinking of you. But recently, that was happening less and less. He’d be busy after the shows—either with the crew or on his phone—and by the time you tried to reach him, his phone was either off or set to “Do Not Disturb.” You tried not to overthink it, but the frustration was building. And the anger was showing.

You sent him a long grueling text message full of swearing making sure he knew how pissed off you were. As much as you were pissed, you were also hurt. Ever since he’d started that storyline with Rhea, it began to seem like the same game over and over again. They would both flirt with each other on camera and then Jey’s plans of calling you after the show seemed to never have existed to begin with. Your face got hotter and hotter every time you thought about it and soon enough, came the tears. Your eyes began to water and slightly sting as the tears fell down your face. You made your way to the bathroom, the cool tiles under your feet offering little comfort as you moved. You grabbed your blue washcloth and ran warm water over it, squeezing out the excess before pressing it gently to your face. The warmth helped to soothe the sting in your eyes, but it didn’t take away the emotions swirling inside of you. You needed to feel something else, anything else. “Stupid ass nigga bruh” you sighed out after taking the rag off your face gently and putting your pink shower cap on, stuffing your braids underneath it.

Turning the water on for the shower, you let the steam fill the room. The sound of the water hitting the tiles was oddly calming, a gentle rhythm that drowned out everything else. You undressed slowly, as if peeling away the layers of frustration and hurt with each item of clothing that hit the floor. Stepping into the shower, the hot water cascaded down over your body, washing away the lingering tension in your muscles but not the ache in your heart.

As you stood there under the spray, you let the water pour over your face, the heat sinking into your skin. It felt like the shower was a way to cleanse not just your body but your mind. The emotions of the night—the jealousy, the anger, the hurt—flooded out of you, but they didn’t leave. They just sat there, heavy, under the surface, simmering quietly. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts of Jey and Rhea out of your head, even for just a moment.

The sound of the water became a small comfort, but it couldn’t block the pain that lingered behind it. Your mind kept drifting back to him, to the moments when you’d felt ignored, pushed aside. Why didn’t he understand? Why didn’t he see how this was affecting you? You didn’t want to keep playing this game, but it felt like he wasn’t even trying to meet you halfway.

You finished your shower with a deep sigh, letting the water wash the worst of your frustration away. But the truth still stung—no matter how many times you scrubbed away the tears or the pain, it was still there. And that feeling, the one that came when you felt like you were losing something you cared about, lingered as you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a towel. It wasn’t just about Rhea or the flirtations—it was about the space that had been growing between you and Jey for what seemed like weeks now.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. And it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

The next morning hit you like a brick. You woke up to an empty bed and as you ran your hands onto the smooth cotton sheets, they found an empty space next to you. Sometimes you’d wake up and Jey would be there because he’d arrive early and surprise you but not this time. In times like this, you gave yourself therapy which was doing an entire skin care routine. You needed your mind off Jey especially since your phone notifications were just as empty as the space next to you.

As you got out of bed, the soft stretch of your limbs was accompanied by the satisfying sound of your muscles cracking, easing the tension from the long night. You rubbed your eyes, still groggy, and slowly made your way to the bathroom. With a quiet click, you flipped the light switch on, filling the room with a warm, comforting glow. You grabbed your blue washcloth, running warm water over it before wringing out the excess and gently pressing it to your face. The warmth felt soothing against your skin, helping to wake you up as you sighed deeply, mentally preparing for the day ahead.

You started your morning skincare routine, reaching for your cleanser first. The gentle formula lathered as you massaged it into your skin, focusing on any areas where you felt the remnants of makeup or the wear of sleep still lingering. After rinsing it off, you followed up with a toner, its refreshing scent and cooling effect instantly tightening your pores and balancing your skin’s pH. You swiped it across your face with a cotton pad, feeling the freshness settle in.

Next, you reached for your serum. A few drops went onto your fingertips, and you pressed it into your skin, allowing it to absorb deeply. The light texture and the nourishing ingredients felt like a treat, giving your skin that healthy, radiant glow you always craved. You followed up with a delicate application of eye cream, tapping it gently around the sensitive skin beneath your eyes, trying to reduce the slight puffiness and dark circles from the late-night argument.

After a few moments, you smoothed on your moisturizer, letting the rich cream hydrate your skin and lock in the previous layers. It felt thick enough to give your face a protective barrier but light enough to absorb quickly, leaving your skin plump and soft. Then you finished with a few drops of face oil, massaging it into your skin to lock in moisture and give you that dewy, healthy glow that lasted throughout the day. Finally, you topped it off with broad-spectrum SPF 30 sunscreen, making sure to cover every inch of exposed skin, knowing how important it was to protect yourself from the sun’s harsh rays.

Before you finished up, you reached for your toothbrush. You carefully brushed your teeth, the minty freshness of the paste helping to awaken you even more as you scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. After rinsing, you took a moment to check your reflection, satisfied with the glowing, refreshed version of yourself staring back at you.

Around 2:30 in the afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, finishing up a fresh Caesar salad you had thrown together. The quiet hum of the apartment was interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open, followed by Jey’s heavy footsteps. You didn’t need to look up to know it was him; his presence was felt before he even reached the doorway. His bag was slung over his shoulder, and his furrowed brows and tense posture told you everything you needed to know—he was upset.

“What the hell is yo problem Y/N? You texting my phone and shit buggin’ out!

“Whatchu mean buggin’ out? You literally on camera flirting with another woman!”

“That’s my job! You knew that when we got together!”

“I ain’t know another bitch was gonna be all over you and then your ass wasn’t gonna be answering the phone! Joshua yo notifications were silent, you didn’t call me, and yo shit was on do not disturb bruh! Y’all have been flirting on the show for weeks! What? You had her in your hotel room too huh?!”

“It my fuckin’ job Y/N! Me and Rhea are friends outside of the ring and in the ring, but this is just a storyline! The most we’ve done is hug on camera! As far as me not answering my phone, my ass was tired! Tired as fuck and you on my ass for that cuz you think somethin’ going on! Hotel?! You think she was at my hotel f’real?! Ight, I tell you what. Come wit me on the road and see who I got in the hotel room.” He said stepping towards you. “Cause you ain’t gon find shit!”

“I don’t know she might be! Y’all might as well be fucking each other with the way y’all look at each other! Everybody on the net see that shit! You got a whole girlfriend at home Joshua!” You said taking a step towards him where the tension between you both grew even worse.

“That’s yo problem! Yo ass stay on the net Y/N, that don’t got nothin’ to do with me! With us!”

“You want me to come with you on the road? Bet!” You said before dissolving the tension completely due to storming to your shared bedroom and grabbing a few clothes from your closet starting to sort them on your bed. “You not finna have me looking fucking crazy nigga” you mumbled before grabbing your pink suitcase and beginning to throw your clothes inside of it. You were fuming, the argument didn’t make it any better and Jey not even attempting to understand where you were coming from made you even more pissed than you already were.

The drive to Smackdown was a long and quiet one. The silence between you and Jey stretched on, thick and heavy, like an unspoken wall you both couldn’t seem to break. Seven hours on the road with the person who had left you feeling so alone, was torture in its own right. The miles seemed to stretch endlessly, each passing minute feeling like a reminder of everything that had gone unsaid between you two. The hum of the tires on the highway was the only sound, broken only by the occasional change of gears and the low growl of Jey’s engine. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white, and his jaw remained clenched, as if holding in a thousand words that neither of you had the energy to speak.

Every time you looked over at him, there was that flash of gold from his fang teeth when he briefly parted his lips. His dark eyes remained locked on the road ahead, never meeting yours, and you wondered if he even realized how much it hurt that he hadn’t tried to reach out in any meaningful way. There was something about the way he held himself—so guarded, so distant—that only made the frustration and anger you’d been feeling more tangible.

The hours passed with nothing but the occasional hum of the radio and the drone of the road. The tension between you two seemed to increase with every mile, a pressure that built up with every unsaid word. Even though you were sitting next to each other, it felt as though you were on entirely different planets. You tried to push the swirling thoughts in your head away, but they kept coming back—thoughts of Rhea, of Jey’s evasiveness, of your own growing doubts. You couldn’t ignore it any longer.

When the GPS signaled that you were nearing your destination, Jey took the exit for the Marriott. The hotel looked standard—modern, with sleek lines and a minimalist design that spoke of business rather than comfort. The large glass windows caught the last few rays of sunlight, making the building look polished and professional. As Jey parked the car and cut the engine, you both got out in silence. The stillness in the air was deafening as you walked towards the entrance. Neither of you made eye contact, and the shared understanding that this trip—like everything else between you two at the moment—was shrouded in unresolved tension, hung in the air like a thick fog. As Jey got his bangs and your suitcase out of the car and handed the key off to valet, you took some time to examine the lobby. Securing your Pink Christian Dior bag on your shoulder, you made your way inside.

The lobby was bright and clean, with polished floors and neutral-colored decor that didn’t seem to offer much warmth. The hum of the air conditioning and soft murmur of other guests checking in was the only sound in the space. The reception desk was manned by a young woman with a friendly smile, her eyes lighting up when she saw Jey. Despite the tension you felt, a knot twisted in your stomach at the way she greeted him, too eager, too familiar. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than just politeness.

Jey didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. His demeanor was casual as he approached the counter, flashing the woman a quick smile before grabbing the room key. You stood off to the side, feeling the bitterness rising again. You knew it was irrational—he was friendly with people, that was just part of his job. But something about the way the woman looked at him felt too personal, too much like an insider joke, something you weren’t part of.

You followed him through the lobby, your steps slow as you tried to ignore the discomfort building inside you. The elevator ride was equally silent, the small space between you and Jey seemingly amplifying the emotional distance. He didn’t look at you once as he pressed the button for the floor, the ding of the elevator breaking the quiet as it moved upward.

When the doors opened, you both stepped out into the hallway, and Jey led the way to your room. The keycard swiped easily into the door, and it clicked open. You entered the room, and the soft, neutral tones of the decor did little to soothe your frazzled nerves. The king-sized bed was made neatly, the sheets crisply white, and the space felt sterile. There was a desk by the window and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The curtains were drawn, casting a soft shadow over the room, but even the quiet comfort of the space couldn’t ease the tension that followed you inside.

Jey set his bag down on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, but there was still no attempt to break the silence. You stood by the door, your body tense, wondering if you should say something or just let the silence settle. But the words didn’t come. There was too much to say, too much that had been left unsaid for far too long.

Instead, you took a deep breath and walked over to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect yourself. The hotel room, with its impersonal design and sterile comfort, seemed to reflect the state of your relationship with Jey—something that was once warm, but now felt cold. The mirror in the bathroom caught your reflection, and you sighed. You didn’t even recognize the woman staring back at you. She looked tired—worn out from the constant emotional back-and-forth.

You ran your hands through your braids, staring at your reflection. What am I doing? You thought as you sat your bag down, but the answer was unclear. On one hand you thought that maybe you were reading into things too much because Jey had never actually cheated on you throughout your relationship or given you a reason to believe he was going anywhere. But on the other hand, the amount of insecurity and jealousy you had seemed to be taking over you all because you thought your man was entertaining other women…especially Rhea.

The sound of Jey moving around in the other room broke the silence again, but it didn’t bring any comfort. To find some form of therapy, you grabbed your bonnet out of your bag and put it on, stuffing all of your braids underneath the silk fabric before turning the shower on, hoping the sound of the water would give you a moment of peace, a moment to think. But you knew it wouldn’t. You wanted things to feel right again, but it was starting to feel like you were living in a version of reality that didn’t belong to you anymore.

As you undressed and stepped into the shower, the water rushed over you, but it couldn’t wash away the unease. The more the hot water streamed over you, the more you felt the weight of everything—of the confusion, the jealousy, the hurt. Even the soap and small bubbles couldn’t cleanse your mind. And when you stepped out and dried off, you knew it wasn’t just the hotel room that felt empty. It was the space between you and Jey.

After stepping out of the bathroom, you grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around yourself, the soft cotton providing little comfort against the swirl of emotions that still clung to you. You dropped the clothes you’d been wearing earlier into the laundry bag you found tucked in the corner of the closet, the fabric brushing against your legs as your mind raced. When you turned around, your gaze immediately landed on Jey. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands tightly intertwined in front of him. His posture was tense, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you with those dark eyes that seemed to carry all the weight of unspoken words.

It was clear he was upset, but instead of speaking, he just watched you—his jaw set, his gaze unwavering. The tension in the room thickened with every passing second, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were being scrutinized under a microscope. His silence spoke louder than any argument, and it was almost like he was daring you to say something. It was as if he wanted you to stay quiet and let him carry the weight of whatever this was, to allow him to make the rules for the weekend—rules that seemed to say you were his and this trip was a way to show you that.

“Is there somethin’ you wanna say?”

“Do you see anybody in here?”

“This still don’t prove anything, why would she be here when I’m here. And again you and her are all over the net.”

“See what I’m sayin’, yo ass trippin for no reason. Ain’t nobody coming up in here. You always listening to what people on the net saying and letting them get inside yo head and shit.” He said before kissing his teeth and taking the remote turning on Peacock and putting on a random Raw taping to play in the background.

You were too in your feelings to notice it and ended up looking at him with straight anger. “Nah Joshua, you look at her like you way too comfortable. It ain’t about listenin’ to no net shit, it’s bout what I see nigga. And what I see is my man flirting with another female like he really wanna be in between her legs f’real.”

Jey let out a soft chuckle, his golden grills on his fangs lining up perfectly with his bottom teeth, but that wasn’t a funny laugh. That was a ‘I’m getting sick of this shit’ laugh and you knew it all too well. “You think I wanna be in between her legs?” He said as he turned to you and started walking toward you no longer laughing but looking deadass serious. His voice dropped a bit having the same deepness from when he was in the bloodline.

“We finna be here all weekend Y/N and you still convinced I got another woman coming to my hotel room and that I wanna be in between her legs and shit. Let me show you who legs I’m really tryna be in between since you think you know everything” he said backing you into the wall pinning both his hands on each side of you trapping you right in front of him. He then leaned forward before planting a rough but passionate kiss on your lips.

At first you gave a bit of hesitation but with the feelings and thoughts from earlier slowly starting to dissipate with his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, you gave in as you opened your mouth allowing him inside of your cavern. Your tongue collided with his as your arms wrapped around his neck deepening the exchange between you two.

With one swift motion Jey’s hands left the wall and made their way to your towel instead snatching it off your body as well as your bonnet letting your most of your braids fall down your back as some fell to the sides of your face. As you began to run out of air, you slowly pulled away before taking Jey’s shirt off revealing the beautiful work of art underneath. His tribal tattoos were never failed to catch your attention, especially with how they contorted when he was mad due to his muscles tensing. Dammit Jey. You were too busy admiring him that you didn’t even notice him picking you up before your attention suddenly snapped back to him as your back hit the soft fabric of the king sized bed.

Jey kicked off his low panda dunks before crawling on top of you, you both getting into another passionate make out session before this time it was him who pulled away as he made his way to your neck. His kisses and his teeth grazing your skin made your body shudder as you leaned your head back to give him more room, while soft moans slipped from your lips. Jey’s hands glided down your waist and to your legs pushing them open as he slowly kissed down your chest, then to your stomach, and stopping just above your entrance. Now he could’ve dived right into it but he wanted to make you…wait. He placed tender kisses between your thighs making sure to go agonizingly slow before dragging his tongue between your folds and up to your clit. His hands gripped onto your legs, as he slowly dragged his tongue over your folds again.

What started out as anticipation and soft moans of pleasure quickly turned into full on moans, inappropriate sounds, and squirming. His tongue started to twist and slide through your folds and over your clit as you could do nothing but squirm as your legs began to shake. You bucked your hips as your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you. “Ughhh!” You couldn’t help yourself, you knew you two were in a hotel and the walls were paper thin but that didn’t stop you from letting out those sounds Jey loved so much.

“Hell nah ma, none of that runnin’ shit” he murmured pulling away just slightly before pushing your hips down and going back to putting his tongue to work. God. He moved that tongue so well. There was no way you could stay mad at him when he was making you feel this good. You couldn’t buck your hips so you were forced to literally endure the feeling of the knot in your stomach tightening along with your legs shaking. The slurping and lapping sounds of Jey eating you out didn’t help the situation as your nails found their way into his scalp. “J-Jey!” You moaned out his name as a slew of curse words left your lips due to your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, your body jolting as it did so. Gasps of air left your lips as Jey still didn’t let up knowing you loved to be overstimulated.

“S-Shit! I c-can’t, I can’t!” You said feeling another knot build up, still not fully recovered from your previous orgasm. “One more time” was all he mumbled against your folds as you suddenly felt two of his fingers enter your walls beginning to pump in and out of you. The pleasure was becoming more overwhelming by the second, with one curl of those two fingers against your g-spot you completely broke, spilling all over his fingers and his mouth. His moans beneath and the fact he was cleaning up the aftermath caused your legs to almost completely go numb, they were shaking already still reeling from the massive orgasm you just had. But it was nowhere near over yet.

Jey slowly pulled away not minding that some of your juices dripped down his beard. With one quick wipe with his hands, it was gone. With one swift finger motion, he beckoned you over as you obeyed and swung your legs to the side positioning yourself on your knees before connecting your lips with his. The taste of yourself on his tongue was driving you crazy because it was you and no one else. He returned the kiss and you being the sneaky girl you were decided to get a feel of that Samoan dick you missed so much. It was so hard, large, and you could tell he was eager based on the precum leaking from the head of it. A low growl slipped from his lips before Jey pulled away from the kiss and gently put you in doggy style position where you were facing the TV before getting behind you grabbing your hips. “You wanna feel this dick don’t you?” he asked before starting to rub his dick against your throbbing pussy, it was drenched due to the orgasms you had from earlier and that was all the lube he needed. He pushed inside of you with a quick thrust of his hips as he immediately let out a low moan with a mixture of a grunt. “God damn, baby you tight as fuck f’real” he said easing his way deeper into you which evoked a moan from you. “Yeah take all this in, all f’ me” he praised.

Your walls clenched around Jey as his soft and gentle movements turned into much more rough and faster ones. Jey was paying full attention to you right now and that’s how you liked it. He was too busy giving you back shots to think about anyone or anything else. This was how it was suppose to be. He was showing you who he truly wanted, and your body was reciprocating it. Your pussy was the one thing Jey would always get drunk off of, you’d end up in different positions afterwards and today was no different. The faster and rougher his thrusts got, the more your walls gripped him with desperation.

Your eyes were rolling in the back of your head as one minute you were letting out loud gasps and the next your nails were digging into the bed as Jey was pounding you from behind before forcing you to look at the tv screen in front of you. On the screen was Rhea and Damian currently attempting to take on the judgement day with just the two of them. But the numbers game was too much, you heard the YEET chants from the crowd but with Jey’s dick inside of you, it was nothing but background noise. You remembered this RAW, a lot of people expected him to be there due to the storyline. In reality he wasn’t there because they were prolonging it. But even though this was an old taping, your mind went to him not being there due to the events currently unfolding in your shared hotel room and the fact that he chose you over Rhea. Something about Rhea being dominated by the judgement day and your man being behind you made your pussy throb and your walls completely clench around Jey. “Look at that” he said while taking a hand full of your box braids into his hands. “You think she gets this dick ma, nah only you do” he said as his movement in his hips sped up and he made it a point to purposely brush over that spot of yours which caused your body to shake all over. “Uh huh, found that shit didn’t I? Doin’ all that yellin’ for no reason just to end up like this under me” he muttered before suddenly nailing that spot straight away being completely satisfied by the loud moan that left your lips. “J-Jey! P-Please…” you begged as the sound of flesh slapping against each other filled the room along with your moans and his grunts. Your braids slowly fell back down over your face as Jey’s hand let go of your hair but slowly wrapped his hand around your neck instead lifting your head back making you look up at him instead. “Please what? Look at me when you talk to me ma” he said as he hit that spot over and over again. “Ughhh! F-Fuck!” You moaned up doing your best to attempt to look at Jey but the pleasure was too much. “Whatchu say ma? You ain’t telling me nothin’” he said as his strokes drove you wild. The knot in your stomach was becoming tighter and your pussy was becoming wetter and wetter. “P-Please c-cum inside me!” You screamed out, your voice breaking as tears welled up in your eyes from the pleasure. “You want me to nut in this pussy huh?” He said as his thrusts started to become sloppy indicating he was close. “Y-Yes Daddy!” You screamed as you came undone all over his cock unable to hold yourself back. Seeing you come undone was enough to send Jey over the edge as he let out a number of curse words, slamming into you one final time letting his seed cover your walls. “God damn, mmm” he said before letting out a sigh of pleasure.

Your body was slowly coming down from its third orgasm of the day before you looked at Jey panting. “We ain’t done right?” You asked not being able to help yourself.

“Done? Hell nah. We got all weekend.”

♡

Note: I really hope you liked it! 💕 also if there’s any spelling errors I’m so sorry😭

Divider credits: @enchanthings & @anitalenia

Taglist: @punksyeet @binnieaddict @sheaabuttaababyy (if I did not tag you, it would not let me and you will have to comment!)

#wwe #fanfic #smut #wwe fanfiction #18+ mdni #jey uso #wwe fandom #jey uso smut #main event jey uso #jey uso x reader #jey uso x black reader #black reader #fanfiction

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perseruna · 10 months ago

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heyyyy do you have any details/sources for the ca*ill being a jackass thing? ngl i watch twn for yen and jaskier so i was already planning on continuing to season 4 but i'd love some reasons to be actively excited for the actor switch. but i haven't kept up on the behind-the-scenes stuff so i'm kinda lost on that front if you're up for sharing any of what you know!

okay guys buckle up this is THE anti henry cavill megathread xoxo

First of all him dating a teenager as a 33 year old fully grown man literally gross and disgusting.

Also as this quote implies they started dating a year prior and only went public when she was 19 so they supposedly started dating when she was 18.

His entire dating history is a MESS. Sure the women he dated are not him, but he chose to date them, I wouldn't even associate myself with people like these let alone be in a relationship with them. He dated the infamous transphobic TERF Gina Carano, albeit before her loud controversy, but I doubt her harmful views were any different back then. His current gf has a history of doing black face.

His "Me Too" comments.

His comments on the Me Too movement are literally so vile. If you don’t want to be called a rapist, just don’t rape women, it’s literally as simple as that. They’re even more foul because they’re promoting the idea that women lie about their abusive for fame, promoting that harmful rhetoric especially in our times is incredibly dangerous.

Now onto his on set behavior.

We can't talk about his set behavior without mentioning the deuxmoi set leak. Here's the transcript of it:

[Transcript:

There’s something I really really wanted to read to you guys--it has to do with why Henry Cavill left The Witcher. I know that was something that you guys were super interested in when it happened, and I just recently got this message. Somebody was like “Hey, do you want to know what really went down?” And I was like “Sure!” So let me just read it. It says:

“At the beginning of the show, Henry was good to work with. A lot of difficult demands that made people feel like he wasn’t a team player, but that’s not unusual for a really big star. Though in TV it truly usually doesn’t happen until the second season. But in season two and three something shifted and he became really impossible for women to work with, which is always a big problem, but even worse here because the showrunner is a woman. He would try to overrule her and try to get changes made last minute across the board without her knowledge, which, if you know anything about showrunning, is completely fucked. The showrunner has to sign off on every miniscule detail down to the buttons on a costume. Female writers and directors were suddenly being completely ignored on set, unable to do their jobs. Every department head was complaining. He started making comments—it wasn’t a sexual thing, he wasn’t grabbing anyone or being lewd, but it was disrespectful and toxic all the same.

“He is deeply addicted to video games, to the point where it was like working with any other addict. He was distracted, he was late, he was obsessive, and a lot of people think the misogyny came from gamer world. Video game bro language is not how you talk to coworkers, and he wouldn’t stop. Someone on the show compared it to watching someone get brainwashed by QAnon, like his whole personality shifted. Eventually his disrespect escalated. He would rewrite scenes without even alerting the other actors in the scenes until it was time to shoot. He decided that he didn’t want any romantic scenes at all—no kissing scenes, no shirtless scenes, et cetera. He wanted complete control of storylines but really had no idea of the limitations of TV, structure, budget, et cetera. He formed a weird alliance with one writer who was also a gamer, who eventually got fired after multiple HR complaints were made and after that writer left, Henry did anything he could to hold up production and cause problems.

“Eventually top brass at Netflix was tired of him costing them money with delays and HR investigations and the showrunner was asked to construct a potential exit for him. Netflix reached out to him personally and he was given one final warning, and violated that warning with an email he sent to the entire writing staff right after that meeting. That was it. It’s very disappointing.”

End transcript.]

Now believe me or not, but I know from a really good source that the leak was indeed real.

There's a lot of patterned behavior that tracks with what we know of him and his past controversies.

After that leak came out, there was a lot of people from different places coming to comment that ‘yes’ they’ve heard a very similar story adding a little bit more details of their own.

this quickly deleted tweet from one of the writers/producers:

there were rumors about him being an asshole to Anya specifically.

He went on record that he doesn't "understand" sex scenes. Which I know the sex discourse is rampant nowadays and each to their own, but he specifically signed up for a role that requires those scenes and then refused to do them and was allegedly nasty to Anya about it and with the way he talks about women...

Also it’s important to touch upon the “writer he had a weird alliance with” that man in question is Beau DeMayo of the recent fame of getting fired by Marvel from X-Men ‘97. He was previously allegedly fired from The Witcher for being emotionally and physically abusive. And he allegedly got fired from X-Men for being abusive as well. One of The Witcher writers tweeted this after Beau smeared them for “disliking the books” Beau was literally the first person to start that narrative.

The fact that it was HIS idea not to say lines of his dialogue in S1 and instead grunt. To the point that Joey had to take Henry’s lines and make it his own, so the plot would make sense, he talks about it in this interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=Oyh0t117t0U&, and then once S2 press arrived Henry was talking about how he was trying to fight the big bad writers to give him more lines. Ridiculous.

Everyone is already pointing out that the cast looks so much happier without him, and it’s very true. Henry was never present on close to any BTS pics from filming the previous seasons, or on any cast dinners or birthdays. He wouldn't even do any shared interviews with the other three mains but only had solo interviews which to me was giving disrespectful like you're an ensemble you’re not the only lead here. It felt like he was above them to sit down and answer questions with them. When they were doing press junkets in Brazil and Poland Anya, Joey and Freya would always arrive together and leave together with that man leaving all the events early and by himself. And like people who post quotes from the cast about him being perfect from press junkets as “proof” are insane to me like Obviously they’re going to say nice things about him, not only they're newcomers, and he's an established industry name, but they’re doing PRESS for a show that he’s a STAR of (well, was lmao)

The fact that he never defended Anya from the racist trolls, even though most of them were HIS fans. Like she had to go through so much and that man couldn’t make a single comment about it as a leading man BUT he could make a whole IG post because people were being mean to his gf and calling her out for doing blackface.

And sure people might say that a lot of these are unverified sources, and I’d get it if it was a singular case, but there are a ton of these accounts that all match each other. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

#anti henry cavill #the witcher #mega thread

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madlori · 3 months ago

Text

Sometimes the delulu IS the solulu.

After some thought, and reading a lot of really insightful thoughts here and on Discord, I think I've reached a conclusion.

I'm going full tinhat. Not in an unhinged way, though.

I don't think this is the end.

I'm not going to count on it. I'm barely going to hope for it. But I am going to...keep an eye out for it.

The one common refrain we've heard from each other is that this did not feel like a permanent breakup. It felt so obviously and blatantly like a setup for Buck to fight for the relationship. It was that "one partner freaks out a bit and the other has to show their commitment" relationship hurdle which is so common it's a trope. In fact, most of us assumed that's just what it was...until those interviews

Now, I do not put Tim Minear up on some kind of pedestal of writerly greatness - far from it. And he did not write this episode, but the plotlines all go through him.

BUT.

He has always been very attached to Tommy as a character and to this relationship. He loves it. He loved red string theory so much that he wrote it into this episode. And I'm about halfway convinced he's in love with Lou but that's beside the point. (I mean, we get it, Tim.)

Tommy's what he always said he wanted to get for Buck. Firefighter, integrated into the 118, yadda yadda, we've been over this a lot. Someone he chooses, someone he works to build something with. Someone who shows up for him. He had Buck SAY in this episode that he'd never felt like this since Abby.

The thread of Tommy wanting a found family like Buck's. The intense settled/caregiving vibe of 8x05. It all felt so...purposeful. And yes, I agree that this could have been done just to punch up the angst for Buck when it ends. But that's not the only explanation.

The many, many comments of wanting to move Buck along in his personal life. Oliver wanting to do settled, domestic storylines with him. Giving Tommy the big hero romcom entrance in that hospital.

And what now? Cycle Buck through another love interest? It's hard to imagine recapturing what he had with Tommy with anybody else, or for the GA to embrace it as much as they did. What little we can see of the GA reaction (because the official socials are weirdly quiet and have not posted) is that they're not happy about this. Tim knows this.

I can buy Tim making some dumb writing decisions but he's not stupid. I find it very hard to swallow that he'd voluntarily toss away all this, and this potential, and what they'd already established, and a pairing/character/actor he loves, for what? For nothing.

So I think that it's not for nothing.

I think the plan IS to reunite them...

...they just don't know when, or how.

For some reason he wants to give it a break for awhile. I don't know why. There could be off-camera reasons. But I think it happened recently. Two weeks ago we got interviews talking about hurdles being overcome, relationships deepening, etc etc. It's a great episode for them, came out of Oliver's mouth. Not important, not consequential - great. And hey, what happened to that very important Bobby conversation where he gave Buck important advice? It wasn't there.

I think a change was made in the last two weeks. And yes, I know the loft stills were dated 9/17.

Two weeks is plenty of time to reshoot one scene, between when those interviews came out and last night. The stills could be from the first time it was shot, in September. Put the guys in the same wardrobe, we'd never know the difference, or that those stills weren't from the scene we actually saw.

The scene was always the one we saw, but was always meant to be temporary, and the change was in how they talked about it in the interviews from last night. That is a simpler explanation, as it doesn't involve reshoots, but it doesn't explain those very incongruous interviews we got two weeks ago that do not match the scene we saw. Now, they have always vagued it up, and talked around things in interviews, but this was an entirely new level of misdirection and outright lying that isn't typical.

I'm really tinhatting it up now, but hey, what have I got to lose? I'm not investing anything in this. It's just...a thought.

If you think the network interfered (I don't, at least not for plot-related reasons, see below) or Oliver demanded the relationship be cut (I don't - I know lots of you are mad at him but I'm not), whatever it was...I just get a vibe. It could be as simple as money. It could be a ratings thing. Honestly? It could be that they've found out they're getting cancelled, and were ordered to cut bait on guest stars. They could be kicking the can down the road to goose ratings for spring when they do bring it back. There are lots of reasons I can think of and probably more that I can't.

I read a thoughtful and reasonable post about how it was more or less a mercy killing to post those interviews - most showrunners like to keep viewers guessing and coming back, so for them to say definitely BT was dead meant it's really, really dead (although how definitive they actually were is another question).

They might be right about that. I don't know.

Or they just might not know themselves. Even if the plan IS to reunite them eventually - if they don't have a plan for how or when, the safest course is to shut it down. No guarantees they can make it work, so play it safe. Oliver and Lou might not be looped in on this.

It's pretty thin. They probably would be, although we have ample evidence of actors not knowing stuff until the last minute. The other option is that they are looped in and are intentionally lying but I think that's very unlikely - although Lou has demonstrated a keen skill in keeping his mouth shut when necessary.

I'm not going to get nuts about this and neither should anybody else. I'm not going to be scouring socials or the internet looking for support or clues. I'm not going to be holding my breath waiting for a sign.

The only thing I'll keep an eye on is how they handle any flirtation or dating Buck does in the near future. How they handle it might be telling.

This is ALL very unlikely, let's be real.

I'm still tinhatting, though. Why not? What have we got to lose?

But if I'm right, I expect that red dodgeball in my inbox toot sweet.

(And Buddie still isn't going canon, btw.)

#911 abc #911 speculation #911 spoilers #bucktommy #tevan #hope springs eternal #not for nothing but I accurately predicted that the Miceli's scene would be their first and it would be their 6 month anniversary

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leehama · 1 month ago

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Hi, I love reading And Another Lovely Day a lot and loved seeing the behind the scenes and extras in the recent update! I wanted to ask what inspired you to write it? There’s not a lot of stories with a-spec characters as leads so I was wondering what prompted you to write a story like this.

Hi there! tbh, I've avoided answering this question because AALD was one of those stories that changed so much from its initial idea and has roots in multiple other stories of mine so it's hard to explain/trace! This is going to be long, but I think it went something like:

I was considering making the main character of another story of mine aroace, but even though it made her more interesting, suddenly removing the romance plotline threw off the the motivations/characterizations/storylines of other characters, so I decided against it--but now I had this aspec character concept floating around in the back of my mind

For another story of mine I wanted to make the MCs editors at a romance comic publisher, but it was getting to be a little too much about them being editors/working on comics than their romance/silly hijinks, so I paused developing it--but now I liked that setting

And eventually the two concepts converged: I liked the juxtaposition of aspec leads who had jobs producing love stories because it felt very romcom (there are lots of romcoms about romance writers whose own love lives are lacking, right?). And when the term "non rom-com" popped into my head, I latched onto it!

Initially, Nora and Elliot were romance comic publisher employees who bonded over a common interest in food--but it felt like it overlapped a bit too much with Gourmet Hound (and in terms of exploring sexuality and food, series like She Loves to Cook, And She Loves to Eat and What Did You Eat Yesterday? do it better than I ever could)

(Nora was the editor for Grier's comic series, while Elliot was in the advertising department alongside Isaac--they'd be forced to work together when Elliot was assigned to an ad campaign for Grier's comic) (Their meet-cute was the two of them agreeing to share a Valentine's couple's special at a cafe across the street from their office)

So instead of comic publisher employees who connect over their love of food, they became teachers who connect over their love of comics! I went through a lot of iterations of possible jobs and interests, but this combination felt the most approachable to me (also I had a ton of school-related assets laying around from the magical-girl-becomes-high-school-teacher project that never came to be lol)

So I didn't really set off to write a story about aromanticism or asexuality, nor to write a story with aspec leads. But also, in general, I can't really write from a place of "I want to provide xyz representation" or "I want to make this story relatable for xyz type of person"--because I'm not a skilled enough writer to do that without readers being able to immediately pick up on it lmao (and I feel like a lot of readers balk against stories that are too transparently or clumsily attempting to teach them lessons/model good behavior/be relatable!)

#ask #SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG #and another lovely day

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honestly-mad-person · 1 year ago

Text

YOU'RE MY SECRET

｡･:*˚:✧ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡･:*˚:✧ genre: smut (oral sex, vaginal sex, moans, orgasm, wet sounds, first sex)

｡･:*˚:✧ word count: 7,7K (The biggest story, yeah)

｡･:*˚:✧ a/n: When I was writing the story, I couldn't throw away the storyline of Chapter 8. How does he feel when he sees MC? Is he afraid of losing her again or will his unwavering love for her guide him through the stars so that your eyes can meet again?

In this story, I tried to describe the MC's inner feelings as if it were familiar to her. It's like it was there, but she can't remember. She'll never remember.

I want to answer MS's question about his experience on behalf of Xavier about his chastity:

"I imagined you many times, I imagined your body, and I studied a lot to fulfill the most intimate desires of your soul at the right time."

In a way, he was virginal. But next to you, he could not restrain his predatory nature.

This has nothing to do with the original character and is entirely my take on the situation.

Enjoy your reading! See ya next time!

The sun outside the window was already sinking below the horizon, filling the living room with a warm, golden color.

Looking at the cityscape, your gaze shifted to the blond haired boy sitting across from you at the table. There was a rustle and his fingers turned the page of the book. Silence reigned in the room again, broken only by barely audible breathing.

Looking at his face, as always serious, you were not thinking about your book, but about how attractive he is. His features seemed softer in the evening sunlight.

Xavier's eyes smoothly moved from one side of the page to the other, absorbing the text and occasionally they closed for a moment. Whenever this happened, his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings.

Propping his head with his hand, he was constantly reading a book he had recently bought in a bookstore. You had one of his personal books from bookshelf.

The sight of him made the corners of your lips turn up. An outstanding young man. An experienced hunter. And part-time your boyfriend. However, there was something strange about him.

Somehow, you were watching a movie in the evening, cuddling. When your hand accidentally landed on his thigh, near his private area, he winced and looked down to tell you that your hand was not where it should be and asked him to remove it.

Confused, you looked at him. Up close, you could see how he shyly looked away, and the tips of his ears flashed a blush.

Suddenly, a thought flashed in your head. Did he have someone before you?

It would be awkward to ask him about it. Besides, he never told you everything directly. You should have asked him about what interested you in him, as Xavier immediately changed the subject.

Although you were officially a couple, there was nothing beyond kissing. Xavier never even kissed you deeply. Just sweet and innocent kisses on the lips.

Today, you wanted to know the truth. The truth that he tries so hard to hide from you.

In a moment you realize that his blue eyes are watching you. Coming back to reality, you blinked a few times.

— What? – asked Xavier, keeping his hand on the page he was just reading.

— What are you talking about? – you asked, not understanding the reason for this question.

— You… – he said quietly, drawing your gaze to his lips. – You’re looked at me...

— Indeed?

— Yes, – nodding his head, his lips barely parted. – Do I have something on my face?

— No, nothing like that, – you continued with a smile. – You just look even more beautiful in the evening light.

Hearing these words, Xavier looked away in embarrassment towards the window. He does it again. He tries not to look at you when you make him blush.

— Hey, Xav, – you called softly, tilting your head to the side.

— The sun is setting beautifully, – he said absently, without turning his head.

Looking at the horizon, you saw a really beautiful picture.

The sun was already half visible, and the sky surrounding it exploded with incredibly beautiful colors, iridescent from yellow-hot to purple. The clouds shone in the evening light, shimmering with a pearly sheen.

Suffocating at this beauty, you didn't immediately realize that you had fallen into another Xavier trap.

Mentally slapping yourself on the forehead, you turned your gaze back to him. Predictably, seizing the moment, he plunged back into his reading. It's tricky. Very clever.

— Xavier, – you said confidently, breaking the silence.

— Yes? – raising his head, he looked at you as if nothing had happened before.

— Tell me, do you have experience with women? – directly asking, you leaned towards him, placing your hands on the table. – And don't even think of running away from it.

— What do you mean by… – Xavier fell silent, looking into your eyes, fascinated by their beauty and brilliance.

— What I said, – was the answer immediately. – Have you kissed a woman for real?

Xavier was silent. His eyes slowly wandered over your face, sometimes going down, then going up. Soon, he spoke.

— Yes, with you – his look changed a little, but you couldn't understand what was wrong with him. – To be more precise, today at lunch and before going to the shopping center.

Stunned by this, you let out a heavy breath, forcing your eyebrows raised in surprise to fall back to their usual place.

— I'm not asking about myself, but in general, – clarifying, your gaze was fixed on him.

A shadow of embarrassment fell on his face and touching the tip of his nose with his fingers, he reluctantly answered.

— Not sure it happened to anyone but you…

— Not sure if it wasn't?

Under such pressure, Xavier looked away again. This time, not only his ears were red, but also his cheeks.

You got tired of this uncertainty, so you got up from the table, pushing your chair back.

A new noise caught Xavier's attention and he tensed up noticeably as he looked at you as you approached him. He mechanically pushed his chair back, sitting facing you.

— What?... – he didn't have enough time to finish his question, because the tips of your fingers touched his jaw, gently tracing the skin to his chin.

This small action made him lift his head and look into your eyes, which you could see the sunset in if you looked closely.

— Let's play a game, Xavier, – you said quietly, as if afraid that someone else might overhear your secret conversation. – The game is called "Don't look away."

— I don't like the name of this game anymore, – replied Xavier, feeling the warmth of your fingers and realizing that he won't be able to protect himself from you for long.

— Look into my eyes and don't look away, okay? – your fingers started moving again, releasing from his chin and barely touching his skin, moving down his neck, making him shudder briefly.

— What are you doing? – he said quietly, again visibly blushing.

His eyes continued to look into yours. A slight shiver went through your body at the realization of what exactly you wanted to do.

The tips of your fingers gently touched Xavier's neck and in the silence of the kitchen, in which there was still the smell of lemon cookies baked by you at the request of the owner of the apartment, you could clearly hear his uneven breathing.

Lowering your gaze, you looked at your fingers exploring every inch of his skin. Noticing that Xavier turned his head to the side, you sharply raised your eyes to his face.

— Xavier, I can look away and you can't, – you remarked, waiting for your eyes to meet again.

— I don't understand why you're doing this, – he asked quietly, clearing his throat.

You felt the vibration of each word with your fingers, shifting your gaze from his eyes to the fingers resting on his neck.

— I want to play with you, – you answered, continuing to move downwards, following your hands, which were kissing down from the neck to the chest.

You felt the soft fabric of his homemade sweater, which he didn't wear almost every day. Sometimes, you saw him wearing other clothes. You had some doubts if Xavier knew how to use a washing machine, but today you could smell the pleasant smell of air conditioner all day. It was hard not to keep from poking my nose into his chest and inhaling that magical smell of freshly washed clothes.

A heart beat under your fingers. It rattled a little faster than it should have, but you chalked it up to the closeness between you.

As your hands dropped below your chest, his hand grabbed your wrist. Looking up, you looked into his eyes.

Confused, he looked at you.

— Stop, – he said, still holding your hand.

— Xavier, – you said, bringing your face closer to his. – Don't move.

His eyes widened when you got close enough to barely touch his lips with yours. His weak breath touched your lips, fearing to somehow harm you.

Smirking the corner of your lips, you closed your eyes as you kissed him. Your wrist was squeezed tighter, but ignoring it, you touched the back of his neck with your other, free hand. A tremor was felt under your fingers. Your heart skipped a few beats and moaning softly against his lips, you pulled away from him, breaking the kiss.

Taking in Xavier's eyes, filled with confusion and curiosity, you smiled again.

— Do you want more? – you asked and received in response his silent nod of the head. – Then let go of my hand and sit tight, okay?

Your voice sounded gentle, as if you were asking your dog to obey your commands.

Fingers reluctantly parted, letting go of your wrist and placing his hands on his lap, Xavier continued to look into your eyes.

— Good boy, – you purred contentedly, connecting your lips again in a kiss.

Placing your hands around his neck, your fingers slowly trailed up her rear, causing another wave of shivers. Plunging them into your hair, you lightly squeezed it. From this, you felt a barely audible moan on your lips.

Your heart pounded in your chest again, causing the tips of your ears to light up.

This innocent, at first glance, reaction of Xavier caused you to have the dirtiest thoughts about him. The way you controlled him, the way he responded to your touch, all of it made the warmth of his stomach rise.

Unable to resist, your tongue defiantly ran between his lips, demanding that he let you inside.

Fidgeting, Xavier hesitated for a few seconds, but after your fingers tightened on his hair, he obediently let you pass.

A moan of pleasure echoed through the kitchen and you weren't sure which one of you had created it.

Your tongue explored new territory, teasing with his tongue. Xavier didn't respond to your actions, giving you the upper hand in this little game. It made you even more convinced that he was a virgin. Soon, you felt a weak and unsure response from him.

Surprised, you broke the kiss and pulled away from him, breathing heavily.

— Did I… do something wrong? – he asked innocently, looking into your eyes.

When Xavier returned your kiss, you felt the air in your chest suddenly run out and you felt a little dizzy.

Looking down at his hands, which were clenched into fists, you felt dizzy again. For unknown reasons, you wanted to touch them, so that they would gently caress your cheeks, neck, chest, stomach, and even in your mind you imagined these fingers buried deep inside you.

Your body responded to such thoughts with an appropriate reaction. Blushing, you looked up at Xavier and looking into his eyes, you felt your underwear getting wet.

— Oh, you're blushing, – he remarked in his voice, still looking at you.

— It's hot, that's all, – dismissing his words, you were about to remove your hands, until suddenly he grabbed your wrist again.

Looking at him with a dumb question, you watched as he pressed your palm to his cheek, staring at you.

— Please don't go, – he whispered softly, rubbing against your hand, holding it gently with his hand. – Did I do something wrong?

Your brain shut down. Xavier looked at you with the same "puppy" look. Mixed with your lewd thoughts about him and the way he was gently rubbing his cheek against your hand, it made you freeze in place, not giving you a chance to resist such critical damage.

There was a sharp sting in your chest and you, red as a tomato, pulled out your hand, pressing it to your chest.

— Xavier, you! – suffocating from his mercy and the shame of your thoughts, you continued to mumble something incoherent. – Bamn…

Xavier just tilted his head to the side, looking sadly at you, still holding his hand where your hand was for a few seconds.

After giving you some time to cool down, Xavier reached out a hand in your direction, not daring to touch you.

You looked at his fingers, then at his face. He wasn't looking at you anymore. His gaze, filled with sadness and pity, was fixed on his outstretched hand, which seemed to be trying to grasp something in the air.

Your heart throbbed again and, exhaling, you took his hand. He suddenly looked up, looking into your eyes.

— Just a little more, – you said and, approaching him, stood between his legs, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His head was at the level of your stomach. Still hesitant, he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his cheek against yours.

With a smile on the corner of your lips, your fingers gently scratched his head, going through his hair, while your gaze was directed at the already faded sky.

— I'm sorry if I did something wrong, – Xavier suddenly muttered, pulling you away from the view.

— No, you didn't do anything wrong, – you immediately assured, blushing again at your own thoughts.

A few more kisses like that and you could really pounce on him as if you were hungry for a plate of hot and delicious food.

You were drawn to him like a magnet and it was difficult for you to resist this force. You understood this best when Xavier returned your kiss.

— Then why did you stop touching me? – he asked again in his innocent voice.

It made you shudder. Fingers froze.

— Well, it's hard to say... – trying to find words, you mumbled under your breath. – Well...

— I want more, – came to your ears as Xavier's hands fell on your thighs and gently, but firmly, sat you on his knee.

Squealing, you looked into his eyes and wanted to pour him a whole wagon and a small bucket of outrage about this, but when you met his gaze, you froze. He seemed normal, but something was still wrong.

You saw in his eyes a vague reflection of yourself in the evening rays. The longer you looked, the stronger the attraction to him became. His eyes, like a black hole, pulled you deeper and deeper.

You were pulled out of this trance by his hand, which touched your burning cheek.

— You're looking at me like that again… – Xavier said in a quiet and calm voice.

— H-how? – you asked, touching his palm with your fingers.

— As if there is something on my face, – shrugging his shoulders, he gently stroked his cheek with his thumb. – So… are you going to continue your game or not?

Biting your lip, you felt your face flush again.

— Why do you blush so often? – asked Xavier, looking into your face.

— It's not as important as the fact that… – you paused and exhaled, relaxing. - I don't want to play anymore...

Your words madeXavier freeze. Even his stroking stopped. He looked into your eyes silently.

— I don't want to play with you, I want to kiss you again, – clarifying, your palms touched his face and your lips quickly found what they needed so much. Its warmth.

The last line of defense was destroyed. What you had planned as a scouting mission to get information turned into the fact that you couldn't tear yourself away from his lips.

They seemed so familiar, so warm and welcome that it was really hard to stop even for a second.

Xavier pushed you away ever so slightly, but still gently, occasionally breaking the kiss to give the two of you a chance to take a few gulps of fresh air before your lips pressed together again.

Losing your head from the desire this boy was awakening in your body, you melted every time your tongues intertwined in a passionate dance. He absorbed you, absorbed like a black hole absorbs light, without letting it out.

The only thing you longed for, what you reached for at this moment, was Xavier. His lips, so hot from many kisses, his tongue, which was already confidently responding to you, his hands, which hugged you with a firm grip, pressing you to him.

Your knee touched his groin and moaning into his lips, you felt that you weren't the only one turned on. Breaking away from him with difficulty, you looked at his face, stained with blush. You were both breathing heavily as you looked at each other. Xavier didn't move, as if he was afraid that you would run away if he made even one move.

Your hand rested on his chest and slid down. Looking into your eyes, Xavier barely furrowed his brows, still breathing heavily.

— What are you... – he didn't have time to finish the sentence, as a moan that broke from his lips resounded in the room. – Damn…

His eyebrows came together at the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, he leaned towards you, resting his head on your shoulder. Your other hand rested on his back, stroking his spine with the tips of your fingers. You heard a muffled moan again as your other hand traced his cock through the fabric of his house pants. What you felt confused you a little. You didn't expect that Xavier would turn out to be… a little bigger than you imagined.

You tried to imagine him in your mouth, you thought about whether he would at least enter.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by another moan and an arm wrapping around your waist, digging his fingers firmly into your side. Taking a deep breath, you felt dizzy and tinnitus again. Tomorrow you will definitely find bruises from his fingers on your body.

— Xavier, – you whispered into his ear, as if he were a child seeking refuge on his mother's chest. – Do you hear me, Xavier?

— Mgh… – he groaned, barely nodding his head.

— Relax, – your lips touched his ear, sending shivers down his body.

It even seemed to you that this tremor was heard below as well, as if his member also twitched at the signal of the body.

— Please, – he whispered hoarsely, not taking his eyes off you. – Don’t go…

Something about his words made you wince. Why did he ask you not to go? Why did he say that? Did you give him any reason to think that? Was it something else? Blinking, you couldn't clearly define the reason that could cause these words. Your lips touched his temple, giving him the softest kiss full of love.

— I won't go anywhere from you, – you answered, feeling how tightly he gripped your waist. – I will always be with you.

He flinched at your words. You stopped, still keeping your hand on his already wet pants from the pre-ejaculate.

His head slowly lifted from your shoulder. Meeting his eyes, you felt your heart freeze. You saw longing, fear and need in his eyes.

— What... – not being able to say anything else, you felt an extremely strong desire to comfort him.

Your lips met his again, when you were about to remove your hand from his erection, until suddenly, he stopped you from doing so, placing his hand on yours.

Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours, touching the tips of his nose.

— Please… – he whispered, barely shaking his head.

You lost your mind not only at his physical proximity, but also at how defenseless he seemed.

— Xavier, – you whimpered softly, pressing your forehead against his.

No matter how much you wanted it, but gently pushing him away from you with your free hand, you looked into his eyes.

— Let me go, – you asked, looking at your waist. – I won't go anywhere, I promise.

Xavier put a lot of effort into letting you go. His brows came together again at the bridge of his nose as his fingers parted, giving you your freedom. His eyes were locked on you as you rose from his lap.

Xavier looked as if he was ready to rush after you at that very second if you suddenly disappeared from his life. You had rarely seen him so tense and it broke your heart.

Slowly kneeling down in front of him, you placed your hands on his hips.

— Everything is fine, you have nothing to worry about, – stroking him, you felt how his left leg twitched.

— You… – Xavier whispered, touching your shock with his fingers. – You don't need to do this...

— Shh, – drawing sharply, you rubbed against his arm, running your fingers up his thighs.

Groaning, Xavier covered his eyes. His hand barely felt as your fingers caught on the elastic of your pants.

— Xavier, – you just said his name, when suddenly he lowered himself a little lower, for your convenience.

Smirking the corner of your lips, you pulled at the elastic, pulling Xavier's house pants down. Underneath them you saw dark blue boxers, in which his excited member was clearly visible with a wet stain on them.

Your lips touched his shaft through the fabric. Xavier groaned again, breathing heavily.

You understood that he wanted it. I wanted you to take it sooner. I wanted to be in you faster. Fill you with myself. Cling to your body and never let go. And it made you happy. Be glad that your desires were mutual.

Pulling off his underwear, his slender member was in front of your eyes, barely twitching with excitement. A transparent pearl of pre-ejaculatory substance was visible on the head. Having examined him completely, you saw a vein that swelled like a snake on him. Your insides groaned with desire and wasting no time, you took yours. The tip of the tongue passed over the vein.

Xavier's moans echoed throughout the kitchen as you held his base with your fingers and sucked his hot cock into your mouth.

— God, yes.. yes.. S-so hot.. – he moaned, throwing his head back every time his cock was fully inside, brushing the tip of your throat. - P-please, please, don't stop...

You didn't plan to stop. You wanted everything he could give you. Everything, to the last drop. You will suck everything out of him.

You felt how his cock, pulsating, rubbed against your tongue and stopped somewhere in your throat. Suppressing the tears that rolled into your eyes, you with even greater efforts did everything to bring Xavier maximum pleasure.

The wet sounds from each plunge of his cock into your mouth merged with Xavier's moans and echoed off the walls, dissolving into the air.

— Oh fuck… – Xavier whined, running his fingers through your hair. – D-don't stop... Please... please, I… I need to… please..

His whimpers and moans made you flow harder, harder as the head of his cock slid into your mouth. His fingers gripped your hair tighter, helping you move your head.

— Please… – Xavier kept whining, moving his hips to meet you.

You were no less crazy from his actions than he was from yours. Your swollen lips slid over his shaft, sucking more and more. You gave him what he wanted and you liked it.

— Fuck, p-princess, – Xavier threw his head back with a trembling voice. - I so want... to cum…

In the mix of the wet smacking of your lips against his cock, you opened your eyes wide, looking at him with a look of complete debauchery. Your mouth began to work even faster until your fingers, forming a ring, moved from below, from his base up, until they met your lips.

You swallowed his cock like your life depended on it. You desperately needed to get his cum. You needed her.

— P-princess! – Xavier whined, trembling under your lips like an autumn leaf in the wind. – Wait! Stop, please!

Ignoring his pleas, you looked up at him, the way his eyes rolled in pleasure and the way he tried to push you away from him.

Your hands rested on his hips as your lips pressed into a ring around his cock. The tip of your nose touched his groin every time you swallowed.

— Please, please, stop, I.. I'm coming soon, – Xavier begged you to stop, unable to watch the way you ate him down below.

In response, you tightened your fingers around his pants, pressing your entire tongue against his length, enveloping him in the warmth of your wet mouth.

Gritting his teeth, Xavier tried to keep himself from letting his cum down your throat. You both fought. He was fighting not to cum, but you demanded it from him.

Your mouth, your throat, your tongue, which so kindly received his cock, did not give him a chance. In the process of another absorption, his hips twitched and made a movement to meet your mouth.

Xavier let out a soft whimper and you felt the hot cum rush down your throat. After swallowing some of the liquid, tears welled up in your eyes. Too deep, too much. But you accepted him. Taking every drop he gave you, flooding your throat and mouth with his cum.

Feeling him twitch inside you, you slowly let him out of your mouth, squeezing the shaft and head with your lips one last time.

Looking up, you saw Xavier leaning back in his chair, breathing heavily. His fingers still gripped the edge of the table as his other hand covered his face.

You felt the remains of the sticky sperm on your tongue and swallowed it along with the saliva, licking your lips.

— Xavier? – quietly speaking his name, you stroked his thighs, but he did not answer you. – Did you fall asleep?

Giggling, you got up from your knees and were about to touch his hand with yours, until suddenly he grabbed your hand first.

With a quick movement of his free hand, Xavier dropped everything on the table to the floor. There was the sound of falling books and the clink of a broken plate of lemon cookies.

You didn't have time to look at the mess Xavier had made from putting you on the table like you were a rag doll. The table creaked piteously as the hi's hands rested on its surface. Immediately, he pressed his hips against you as if he had always been between your legs.

— Let me show you how I can work… – he whispered, his lips falling on your neck.

This time, your sonorous moans filled the room as his lips left small, burgundy kiss marks and teeth marks on you again and again. As if mad, he bit your skin, licked it with his tongue and then bit again. Arching your back from his every movement, you felt how he lit a real fire in the bottom of your stomach.

His hand crawled under your shirt and went up to find your breast.

You moaned even louder as fingers pinched your nipple, playing with it.

— Xavier! – with a voice hoarse from excitement, you bent over to meet him.

His hands pulled your shirt up and leaving your neck alone, his lips kissed your breasts, squeezing them with his fingers. Xavier moaned softly in unison with you as his lips covered one nipple then the other. The hot tip of his tongue caressed the tip, sucking it into his mouth.

Throwing your head back, you whimpered, not knowing where to put your hands. The feel of him squeezing your breasts, biting them, made your body squirm beneath him.

His lips left new marks on your skin as they trailed down.

— Why do you look at me so often with your eyes... – he rasped, running his entire tongue from that navel up to the stomach, looking at you with eyes full of desire.

Breathing heavily, you barely felt any movement from Xavier, giving you some time to rest. Your breasts, swollen and covered with traces of his kisses, rose up from the accelerated breathing and shook from a strong heartbeat.

Xavier waited patiently for an answer as he moved up to your face, looking at your red hot face, eyes closed, lashes fluttering and lips swollen from the kisses and what you had done to him a few minutes ago.

— You hear me? – Xavier rasped, leaning down to your lips, barely touching them.

— Ahhh.… – you moaned without opening your eyes and reached for a kiss, until suddenly he pulled away from you. – What?...

When your eyelashes fluttered again and you opened your eyes, you met his gaze with his extremely beautiful blue eyes.

— Why do you keep looking at me with that look of yours? – he repeated his question, running his hand over your cheek.

— What look? – your voice also sounded hoarse, but it didn't bother you much.

— A look like… – Xavier held back the growing desire in himself, which could be seen by the emotion his face was now expressing.

Furrowing his brows, he shook his head as if remembering your eyes at that moment. Licking his lips with the tip of his tongue, he looked at you with a faint smile at the corners of his lips.

— You look at me like I'm your dog, – he said, pressing himself against your crotch.

Your eyes widened as you felt his cock turn to hard again, rubbing against you.

Xavier was leaning against the table, barely breathing as he stared into your eyes as his hips moved on their own. Throwing your head back, you closed your eyes, moaning softly.

— Xavier, I didn't… – you started searching for words to excuse yourself, but feeling fingers on your cheek, you opened your eyes, looking up at him.

— If that's what you want, I'll be your dog, – he said, confidently maintaining eye contact. – I will.

Your heart froze for a second when the meaning of what was said came to your mind. Your body, excited by his touch, stretched like a string.

— I'll be your dog, – Xavier repeated in your ear, pressing his body against you.

The table creaked pitifully again as his hips began to slowly rub against you as his hot breath burned your ear.

— X-xavier… – you begged, shaking under his weight.

— Do you want me to bark for you? – he whispered with a hint of fun in his voice. - Woof, woof…

— Stop, please… Ah… – his hip movements became faster, making you whimper even more at the feeling of his cock rubbing against you through the fabric of your pants.

— Princess… – Xavier whispered, pulling away from you and looking into your eyes that clearly read an uncontrollable, raging desire, he moaned softly, narrowing his eyes.

In your thoughts, you really compared Xavier to a puppy. You took care of him, fed him and stroked him when needed. Now, there was nothing in him that combined him with that Xavier - sweet, shy and funny.

From one look at him, you felt how every cell of your body burned, how your womb wanted him inside, how your lips wanted his lips, how your body wanted to be pressed by his body, you felt how you needed Xavier.

Xavier, who one moment is looking at you in confusion at your next stupidity, and the next he's caressing your breasts with his tongue.

Almost crying with excitement, you nodded your head.

- Good! Xavier, I beg you, please, – you begged, arching your back and feeling his arousal below.

— Then let me satisfy you in a way that only I can, – his voice sounded in your ear and after kissing the corner of your lips, he lowered himself down.

Biting the tip of your finger, you lifted your head as you watched as Xavier trailed a wet trail of kisses down your body.

He stirred your butterflies even more when his lips stopped below the waistband of your pants. Looking up at you, he unbuttoned first the button and then the zipper, pulling the tab down. His hands carefully pulled your pants off your thighs, leaving you in your panties.

Feeling the fabric slide down your ankles, you bucked your hips shyly. Seeing this, Xavier gave you a surprised look, but without saying anything, he leaned into your stomach. Lips gently touched the skin, causing goosebumps.

Hitting your head on the table, you felt the heat from his lips. His hands touched your thighs and after stroking the tender skin, his fingers tightened.

A moan escaped your lips as Xavier jerked you closer to him, to the edge of the table which creaked once again. His gentle stroking made you feel more comfortable and without realizing it, you relaxed.

— Good girl, – Xavier whispered, his nose touching the fabric of your panties before pulling them off you. – I'm going crazy from your smell...

— Stop it… – you whispered, ashamed of his words.

He just giggled at your response.

The cold air touched your skin as Xavier carefully removed your panties and dropped them on the floor. Kneeling in front of you, he let out a stifled moan, inspecting your lust-soaked pussy.

— I want… – he said, wrapping his arms around your hips and pressing his lips to yours.

As if you were electrocuted, you bent over, groaning. Feeling his tongue moving between your folds, touching your clit, you lost the ability to breathe.

His tongue moved slowly, mixing your juices with his saliva. When his tip hit your clit, he lingered on it, pressing lightly. Your body responded to Xavier's caresses with even stronger tremors. His arms draped your legs over his shoulders, gripping your trembling hips.

Licking every millimeter of your pussy, he reveled in your moans that erupted from the depths of your chest. He tormented you with his rhythm, making your back arch every time his tongue touched your clit. Moaning from the pleasure he was bringing you, his tongue circled around the pearl for his lips to gently suck your clit.

— God, Xavier, please… – breathless and feeling dizzy, you grabbed his hair, squeezing your hips. – So good... Ah, please... Faster...

Your whining mixed with the wet sounds and spread throughout the kitchen. His fingers tightened on her hips and he obediently sped up, moving his tongue. Your eyes sparkled with pleasure. Holding him to you with trembling hands, you felt that you were already on the verge.

— Xavier, nghh… Yes, so good! Don’t... ah.. Don’t stop... – you fell silent, arching from the sharp shock of the current throughout your body, which started from the bottom of your stomach and spread throughout your body.

Your entire consciousness has been compressed to a single point. To the point below, which your sweet dog licked mercilessly with his tongue. A wave of shivers slowly rolled over you. Your body shook, your thighs squeezing Xavier's head in orgasm, threatening to crush him. Hitting your head on the table again, you sobbed, feeling that Xavier didn't think to stop there.

Letting go of his hair, you tried to somehow crawl away from him, but his firm grip on your hips prevented you from doing so.

— Stop, – you begged quietly, shaking from his tongue, still absorbed in the orgasm.

Squirming on the table, tears of pleasure fell from your eyes and it wasn't until you sobbed that Xavier stopped. His tongue trailed over your entrance, oozing your pleasure. He collected every drop, leaving nothing behind. You could feel his tongue inside as he moved inside you and losing the ability to breathe, you clenched your teeth.

— Yummy, – Xavier said, pulling away from you.

Barely finding the strength to raise your head to look at him, you clenched your whole body. With his usual calm expression on his face, he licked his lips with the tip of his tongue, wiping his wet chin with his fingers before licking the remains of your orgasm off of them.

Throwing your head back, your gaze went to the ceiling. You felt exhausted. Your head was spinning with pleasure, your heart was pounding wildly, and your body still sometimes shuddered. There was a rustle and Xavier's face appeared in your field of vision.

You moaned as you felt his cock brush against your pubic bone, his lips falling to your neck again.

— Xav… – you begged hoarsely and quietly, slowly regaining control over your body.

— Yes? – he mumbled, hiding in the crook of your neck.

— I... I want you… – you said, wrapping your weak arms around his neck, pressing him to your chest. – Please…

You felt him tense under your hands. Moaning softly, he pressed against your body for a while longer, inhaling your scent. Pulling back, he slipped out of your arms and looked into your eyes.

— You… are you sure? – he asked, swallowing loudly.

You nodded and looked down, touching his neck with your fingers, smiling gently.

— I want to belong to you not only with my heart, but also with my body, – looking into his wide-open eyes again, you smiled even wider. – I want to give you everything I have: my thoughts, my love, my body, my desires, my pleasure, my life...

He shuddered at the last words. His look changed. It became darker. You looked again into the black hole that swallowed you.

— Say it… – he whispered, looking into your eyes. – Say it again... Please...

— I want to give you everything, – you repeated, holding back your laughter. – From my thoughts to my life. It's all just for you.

His lips pressed greedily into yours. The salty taste of your orgasm made your head spin again. You went crazy with the realization of how hard he worked to make you cum and the heat spread again in the lower part of your stomach.

Xavier's tongue immediately entered your mouth, taking complete control of the kiss, causing you to moan into his lips. You began to gasp, unable to fight his onslaught. Your hands touched his neck, shoulders and went down to his chest, reaching his cock.

You heard a moan as your fingers brushed against his shaft as your hips desperately tried to get into a position to drive him into your lap, but without Xavier's help you were having no luck.

After breaking the kiss, he barely touched your lips with his for some time, breathing heavily.

— Xavier, please.. move, – you whispered, almost whining against his lips.

Without answering, he moved his hips away from you, allowing you to direct him. Your heart pounded as the head of his cock thrust into your passage.

— Please, – you begged again as Xavier looked into your eyes, increasing the distance between your faces.

— I won't be able to stop, – he muttered, blushing.

— I don't want you to stop, – you shook your head sharply, taking his face in your hands. – You have to make me yours, remember?

A light flashed in his eyes and moving one hand to the edge of the table, above your head, he supported his cock with the other, penetrating you. Your womb met his hot and wet, making you both gasp at the sensation.

Leaning towards you, you touched your foreheads to each other and closed your eyes, enjoying the merger. Your hands were still holding his face as his cock slowly stretched you from the inside, filling you up.

— Xavier… – you whispered, feeling your walls squeeze his throbbing length inside you.

— Oh... fuck.. it's so tight inside you, – he whimpered and, letting go of his cock, let him enter the end on his own, putting his hand on your waist.

In those brief seconds, you felt as if the whole world had disappeared, leaving the two of you alone. Nothing but him inside you. When his head touched your cervix, you finally let out a moan of pleasure. At first, you were uncomfortable with his size, and knowing that, Xavier made a frantic effort not to thrust into you immediately. Even with a blinding desire for you, he still cares about your comfort.

— How do you feel? – he rasped, raising his head and looking into your eyes.

You took a short breath, nodding your head. Moving your arms around his neck, you pulled Xavier closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist. His nose nuzzled into the crook of her neck and his hips began to move slowly. Your soft moans blended together as Xavier pressed his body against you, bumping into your cervix.

Scratching his neck with your nails, you enjoyed every second of him being inside you. Your bodies were tightly connected inside. Your walls wrapped around his throbbing cock, making you hear his heavy breathing against your neck mixed with whimpers.

— It's so tight, – Xavier whispered, wrapping his arm around your waist. – I can't... think...

Your hips moved to meet his, urging him to speed up.

— Xav... faster... – closing your eyes, you restrained your moans to say these words and soon, you felt the friction become more intense.

— I won't stop, – he said, obediently complying with your request.

Your body arched beneath him every time his full cock disappeared into your womb. The sounds of bodies slapping against each other, the creaking of the table and your babble were music to your ears.

With each thrust, heat engulfed your body. It was becoming difficult to breathe, the head was spinning more and more, and the skin was slowly covered with a thin layer of sweat. Suddenly, Xavier was out of your arms and towering over you, he threw your legs over his shoulders, keeping your hips in the air.

You moaned loudly. when the cock was thrusting into you from a new angle. Grabbing the edge of the table with your hands, you looked into Xavier's eyes. In them you saw his darkest desires, his need for you. Each of his thrusts was accompanied by the creaking of the table. His gaze wandered lustily over your body, lingering on your bouncy breasts, which teased him with their appetizingness, decorated with crimson marks, went down to your waist, which also showed bruises from his hands, and finally, his gaze caught the small bulge at the bottom of your stomach , which appeared every time he penetrated you to the end.

— My princess, – he moaned, looking into your eyes again and squeezing your hips tighter. – I love you, I love you, I love you unconditionally.

Barely understanding what he was saying, you looked at him with a clouded look of pleasure, wanting to press into him again. Sobbing in pleasure, you reached out one of your hands to him, choking on scarlet moans.

— Please... I want... – whining, you once again pushed him on this table. – I need...

Releasing your hips without slowing his pace, he leaned into you, letting your hands grip his neck. Your lips met in a kiss again, exchanging saliva.

Your bodies were sticky with sweat, but that didn't stop Xavier from pounding into you faster and faster. You weren't worried about whether or not you'd be able to walk tomorrow, just like Xavier didn't doubt that he'd be carrying you in his arms all day. A wild desire took hold of your minds, causing your bodies to move in a frenzied rhythm of love.

Xavier drove his cock into you, wet with your juices, slapping his balls against your ass, met the obstacle in the form of the cervix and returned with a low growl to repeat the same actions. Slipping his hand between your heated bodies, he touched your clit. Almost crying with pleasure, you scratched his neck, shoulders and back, not knowing where to go. The air in your lungs was running out as fast as he was fucking your cunt. Your vision became blurry, everything was spinning and the only thing you felt was the near end.

Xavier's voice was whispering something in your ear, but it was hard to make out. Grabbing air with your mouth, you felt as if a little more, a few more thrusts and your body would collapse under his onslaught.

— Xavier, – you whined hoarsely under him, feeling extremely dizzy. – Nghh...

Your brain short-circuited and your body was covered by an explosion. Arching in the back, you squeezed your whole body. Clinging to Xavier with your limbs, you didn't give him a chance. Cursing in your ear, he tried to hold on, but your walls squeezed him too hard. He crashed into your thighs, plunging deep into you and finished with a loud moan, flooding you with hot cum. His hips gave a few thrusts as if he was trying to push as much of his family into you as possible.

Your body was shaking with orgasm, but your grip on Xavier slowly loosened. Soon, as your consciousness returned to reality, hot streams of tears flowed from your eyes.

Hearing your soft sobs, Xavier jerked up, still buried deep inside you. Confusion and excitement were reflected on his sweat-dampened face.

— Princess, – he asked in a husky voice and, clearing his throat, took your face in his hands. – Why are you crying? Are you hurt? What happened?

You looked up at him with a smile, feeling his fingers wipe the tears from your red cheeks. You couldn't answer now. Shaking your head negatively, you looked into his eyes. Panic and incomprehension grew in his gaze, which almost made you cry even harder.

Clenching his teeth, he pressed himself against your body, touching his lips to your shoulder.

— I'm here, – he whispered, feeling how you occasionally squeezed him in you. – I’ll always be with you.

— Xav...

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your feelings, and wrapped your weakened arms around his neck.

— Yes, princess? – he answered, pressing closer.

— So you weren't a virgin? – you whispered hoarsely, gently stroking his back.

He noticeably raised his head and looked into your eyes.

You thought I was... - his eyebrows went up in surprise. - Why?

— We just had sex for the first time... in our relationship.

— I've been saving this moment for a better time, because you deserve the best first time, – his voice was muffled and his breath burned your neck. – But you decided to rush this moment.

He laughed and poked himself in your neck again.

— Okay, but, – you stopped stroking him after a moment. – If you're not a virgin, and you said you had no one before me, then…

You felt Xavier relax against you. The table cracked under your weight and you groaned in indignation, but you couldn't stay angry with him for long.

— Did you fall asleep? – you shook your head and hugged him tighter, deciding that five minutes wasn't that long.

When he wakes up, he will take you to bed and clean up the mess he had made. Just 5 minutes.

— I'll never let you go, – Xavier said in a sleepy voice. – It doesn't matter where you go, how far you will be, I will always find you.

— Pretender…

— No way…

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #xavier #love and deepcpace x listener #loveanddeepspace #xavier x reader #xavier smut

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forlorn-plushie · 10 days ago

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Styles of Prep - Games that Care

Yet another of the lies that Wizards of the Coast has sold TTRPG players, which they've bought into wholeheartedly, is that there are different styles of preparation, and all are valid for every game (because both are valid for D&D, and D&D is right for every game, of course.)

I'm gonna go over a couple games I've run, and explain that actually they all care about the type and level of preparation the GM does.

Indie games are often honest and open about what they want. To take a high-prep example, I recently ran Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. It is not subtle! In the narrator section, right after the introduction, it says "We cannot advise you strongly enough to use prewritten adventure modules". It's not just there - throughout the rules, there's an emphasis that the situation, the state of the world at the outset and thus at every time that follows, is known and rigid. Eureka is a mystery game - the who, what, how, why, and more are all set in stone. The narrator is forbidden to change the scenario on the fly.

Eureka is very forceful of this because the authors, writing a game for mystery investigations, are well aware that it's damn near impossible to make a coherent mystery up on the fly. I'm sure they've tried. I've tried. It's impossible. Something will contradict, and you won't notice until well after the players have reasoned from that contradictory information. It can be done, but not well, and the mental load on the GM is going to kill them.

It's not a genre thing - Eureka is a game about the act of solving mysteries, but so in Brindlewood Bay. I don't have experience with Brindlewood Bay myself, but I do know that the GM doensn't have a real mystery ahead of time - there's a move which is rolled to determine whether a theory is correct. Both are mystery games, but they approach them differently - and each makes a vastly different demand of the GM's preparations.

On the opposite end of the spectrum from Eureka, more in line with Brindlewood Bay in fact, is just about every Powered by the Apocalypse game. Apocalypse World is very clear about what to prepare, and it's more or less the opposite of Eureka: "Daydream some apocalyptic imagery, but DO NOT commit yourself to any storyline or particular characters."

The rules actually tell you to start on what would typically be 'prep' during the first session: "Work on your threat map and essential threats". It's more like note-taking, at that point, just placing the names of stuff that gets mentioned in the session. After that first session, and between each other, you do some real out-of-session work, solidifying the notes you made into Threats.

I won't go into it at length, but Dungeon World is much the same - though there's no 'map' for threats, as characters are expected to be far more mobile, the system of solidifying problems that were mentioned in-game into problems with some mechanically attached descriptors is much the same.

Now, on to the elephant-sized dragon in the room - Dungeons and Dragons. The game itself is, truthfully, quite honest about this. It's the marketing team and the community, having fallen for their propaganda, who pretend low-prep is a valid way to play Dungeons and Dragons.

The 2014 DMG, correctly, focuses on prepared play. It asks DMs to consider "Do you like to plan thoroughly in advance, or do you prefer improvising on the spot?", but everything in that book is either rules text or preparation guides. Mostly the latter.

D&D, as it has existed since 3rd edition, (this is what I have experience with - I can't speak to earlier editions, except to note that there are alot of modules in their time and in the OSR tradition) is a game that thrives on prep. Even if that prep is procedural - tables of encounters and wandering monsters for an area, for example - it's impossible to run the game from nothing, without a lot of background, and have it work.

Imagine not knowing D&D, at all - you pick it up, read the non-list rules (so skipping most of the classes, races, spells, feats, backgrounds, weapons, etc) in the PHB and DMG, and try to run a game entirely improv from the rules and vibes. You'd quickly end up scouring the monster manual for appropriate encounters - and the game, by the rules, demands appropriate encounters! There's a budget system! It's a game about killing monsters and does a lot of math to try and make sure it's challenging without killing player characters.

D&D, at least in the books, is pretty honest about what it wants from preparation. It wants a lot! The playerbase pretends otherwise, but they're wrong. I've yet to find another game that tries to lie like this. Eureka wants you to use modules. Apocalypse World wants you to wing it. I have yet to find any game that actually doesn't care.

#ttrpg #forlorn essays by plushie #ttrpgs #indie ttrpg #indie ttrpgs #D&D #D&D 5e #dungeons and dragons #dnd #dnd5e #apocalypse world #pbta #indie rpg #tabletop games #tabletop roleplaying #eureka #eureka ttrpg #ttrpg prep #ttrpg theory

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cocogum · 13 days ago

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Why you should care for Season 5.

When Tot announced that Season 5 would be Wakfu's true finale, I saw some fans expressing that a fifth season was unnecessary and that it seemed like a way to profit more from the series.

While it may be true from a financial perspective and given that it was previously stated that the fourth season was intended to be the conclusion, it’s always possible for Tot to change his mind if he receives support and attention from new partners and regional funding. He did mention at one point that he initially wanted Wakfu to be a trilogy, and yet he eventually made a fourth season.

Some people might overlook the fact that a fifth season could resolve several lingering storylines. The World of Twelve is expansive and filled with numerous conflicts and mysteries among its characters. A fifth season with 26 episodes could be just what we need to address these unresolved issues. Additionally, it's been quite a while since we had a season with 26 episodes. The last time we experienced this was in 2011 when season 2 concluded.

And speaking of unfinished business, it seems like based on the teaser we have received today by the Ankama team, Count Harebourg will be our antagonist of the season! For those who haven't watched it yet, here's a link to it that brings you on Ankama's official insta 👇

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Based on the teaser, several hints suggest that Harebourg will be the antagonist of the new season. The fact that he is in Waven assigning missions, along with the wording from the teaser video that indicate his return, both clues point towards this conclusion. Additionally, the ice-themed visuals of the teaser and the mention of Harebourg’s name in the eleventh chapter of the Great Wave further support this idea. So it is completely safe to say that Harebourg will be our antagonist for the finale and will pose a far greater threat than he did in the first episode of the OVAs released in 2014.

The fifth season will likely explain how Harebourg survived Oropo's bomb and how he came back to the World of Twelve. We will also most likely get to learn how Frigost's situation has been growing worse without him and how he will react to it once he'll reunite with his people.

And most importantly, we may get to see the Eliacube again. This artifact had completely been forgotten by the Brotherhood despite how it had played a significant role in their lives (but especially to Yugo and Adamai). I say this because when we take a look at the Season 5 kickstarter's information, we can see that the cover for the kickstarter has the Eliacube featured on it.

Adamai had only been capable of retrieving the six dofus eliatropes in Season 4 because he was capable of sensing their energies. He wasn't, however, able to get the Eliacube because it doesn't come from eliatrope origins. Because we're now seeing the Eliacube make a sudden comeback, it's very possible that Harebourg may have been the one to have found it first before anyone else. This would explain why the Eliacube is even presented so clearly to begin with.

(Speaking of the kickstarter, if you don't know already, it will launch on February 12th and has many great rewards depending on the amount you may decide to contribute. You can find the kickstarter here 👇)

You can even find some more clues in the kickstarter cover that suggest Harebourg will be involved. For example, there's a feather that could reference the time Echo gave everyone feathers to bring them into the Inglorium, except for Harebourg. Additionally, the cover features a destroyed piece of architecture that Oropo used to create a portal to reach the realm of the gods.

Also fun fact: at the time, I didn't believe that Harebourg could have died, so I came up with a theory about how he might have escaped unnoticed (and then only recently wrote it all down). Now that he’s actually returning, I find myself believing my theory even more! If you're interested, you can check it out right here.

So here you go! If you're unsure whether Season 5 is worth it, then I hope that my reasons will make you consider seeing it.

Please keep in mind that it's perfectly okay to feel that the fifth season may not be as enjoyable as the others. If you've already made up your mind about this final season, then at least you know what to expect! However, for those who are still uncertain, I hope my reasons encourage you to keep an open mind and consider giving the season a chance.

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em-harlsnow · 26 days ago

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difference between the first seasons of shameless and the last seasons imo

read beneath the cut, it’s pretty long

what i think really changed about the last seasons of shameless compared to the first seasons is how they tried to incorporate the audience. i’ve seen writers/producers say that they tried to set up the cameras in a way that made it feel like the audience was a part of the family, or a visitor confused by all the chaos.

i think that idea was lost in later seasons and you stop feeling like a part of the show, but even more than that, the audience becomes very detached from everything.

further, i think the characters began to lack the same weight that they did before. as they all start to grow up and become steadier as people, the show also loses its chaotic appeal. by the time the characters were all adults, the writers seemed lost on how to add that gritty dark element that the show had initially without becoming repetitive. there’s only so many times that frank can have some ridiculous storyline that hurts his kids where fiona has to pick up the pieces. it gets boring.

so to try and stop that happening, they ran with old comedic devices that i felt shameless had always deviated from, or at least exaggerated. but no, in the last seasons the show fully leans into them. it becomes more like a sitcom, like modern family or friends.

with tami and lip, it was tami getting insecure about lip possibly liking someone else and lip coming up with all these schemes on how to spend less money and hide that he was going for cheaper options from his girlfriend.

with debbie, it was the show leaning into the whole milkovich/gallagher thing and trying for a new pairing which honestly was entirely lacking. we had more development on her and mattie’s storyline (which was gross) than her and sandy. they turn debbie into a caricature and leave her without much emotional development, taking away any of the audience’s compassion towards her.

with carl, it was the whole police thing, where he struggled with his annoying boss and then his second annoying boss.

with liam, it was him becoming very mature very quickly, but lacking the same depth that debbie and carl got at his age. that’s just my opinion of him, bare in mind i haven’t watched his scenes in season 10/11 recently.

with ian and mickey, it was them becoming that TYPICAL comedic couple, with the show taking away a lot of what made them different. So many of their storylines were full of pointless arguments and unsatisfying resolutions. they tried to make them almost middle class, removing mickey’s skill in crime and making him look lazy. taking away all of ian’s emotional development and making him seem pissed off constantly. they don’t seem to understand each other the way they did before.

don’t even get me started on kev and v. they were one of the most interesting storylines at the beginning, and they suddenly became boring.

fiona left, so i can’t comment much on her.

shameless also lacks the connection the show used to have between storylines. every character was somehow connected to another character at the start, all the different plots influencing each other. that quality was lost later on.

at the beginning, the show made great points about poverty and politics without needed to obviously explain each one. it was metaphorical, an example of poverty and of people and relationships and life. In later seasons, it becomes too obvious for me. the messages the show is trying to convey are much more clear and surface level, which means the impact of these messages is reduced.

it’s like the difference between someone giving you an example of a specific person who has been abused, let’s say. You can either tell an emotive story about that abuse or you can say, they were abused, this is wrong. shameless originally was emotive, giving you connections to characters and therefore adding weight and meaning to their stories. It becomes shallow when the show gives its messages in plain ways. like the conversation that ian had with that woman in the furniture shop about the election results in season 11. sure, ian was right, but it doesn’t have the same impact when delivered in that way. if they’d done the show the same as they did in the first seasons, i’m sure the message would have been conveyed more passionately and effectively.

now, this is just my opinion. i don’t hate the last two seasons, but it wasn’t very shameless-esc. I also don’t write TV shows, so i don’t know exactly how to fix all those things

i do enjoy the last seasons, it wasn’t all bad. but it was different to the first ones, and that is something to comment on.

#shameless #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #shameless opinions #shameless meta #shameless us

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twelvemonkeyswere · 10 months ago

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Brienne and Femininity (and Masculinity)

I’ve been musing how one of the most important topics in Brienne's storyline is femininity, and even though her story isn't finished, we can fairly see what some of her major themes are around this—particularly, how performing or failing at performing femininity affects her both internally and externally.

Often I see people pointing out that, in spite of all of Brienne’s traditionally masculine ways—her clothes, her skill set, her body shape, to name a few—she does not fully reject femininity. That she likes little cute animals and fairy tales and wears dresses, and is shy and blushes frequently. This is an important point because, very often, fantasy settings made the assumption that a woman can only be taken seriously if she goes beyond “her womanhood” and acts and thinks “like a man,” as opposed to other girls who are too busy mending or wanting romance. Brienne challenges those tendencies that GRRM saw in his contemporaries. Things have changed a lot since (hello The Locked Tomb, for example), but you can still see where he is working from, and how many of the aspects of Brienne's story still resonate with more modern audiences because, well, sexism hasn't stopped existing. It's also important because the larger asoiaf and got fandoms often refuse to see this side of her, reducing her to a walking sword or a cardboard cut out of a pushover.

Now, my main issue here is that I feel several interpretations of Brienne have now gone on the other direction, and focus so much on Brienne PERFORMING traditional femininity—wearing luxurious dresses, using make up, accepting lavishing gifts, or wondering if she can be desired, for example—that we've gone sometimes on the opposite direction. I feel like many times we’re afraid or do not know how to approach characterizing her as someone who rejects aspects of femininity without making her into another “not like other girls” stereotype.

My two cents on the matter is that if we focus too much in what Brienne can't but "wants" to perform, we forget that she is, in fact, gladly rejecting some common impositions of femininity in her society.

Beginning with swordplay at a young age, for example, she was very glad to ditch a more traditional education in order to learn how to fight the way we know men are taught in asoiaf/got. She is also explicitly more comfortable in men's clothes. We all like the scene where Jaime makes an effort to give her a dress and she appreciates it, but we don't even find out what happened to the dress, because, presumably, the dress itself is not THAT important, at least not as much as the fact Jaime gave her gifts as a form of appreciation. Dresses have been used in Brienne's past to mock her (the event with the bear being the most recent one), and the important part is that Jaime is the only one who has given her one without that ulterior motive. The point of the scene is that where everyone undermines and underestimates her, he is acting the opposite way. We’re seeing how the relationship between them has evolved and that he is doing his best to mend what has happened and what he has done. She is given a dress and a sword as symbols that someone else in the story is beginning to appreciate her for all she is.

Beyond that, we even get details on the old shield Brienne got at Harrenhal, but not a word about the dress. Brienne explicitly doesn't really like being in dresses, she prefers mail and breeches, and feels more at ease in them than anything else. This is not her hating dresses because she is above them. I can’t remember well but as far as we know it’s just her preference: I don’t recall her saying she hates dresses, just that she prefers trousers. She must have been wearing dresses her whole life! It’s not likely she is unused to them. But we do know the act of being given a dress is important in Brienne’s story. The problem is not that they can’t make dresses for her, the problem is that everyone who forces her to wear a dress wants to signal how lacking she is as a woman, trying to fit her in a box too small for her real shape and then mocking her because she doesn’t meet their standard. The problem is they want to make her uncomfortable and they want to humiliate her, because she dares to exist in a way that doesn’t conform to patriarchal ideals. And the problem is that she likes to wear trousers and mail. She likes to wear masculine clothes, and they want her to be very aware of how much they disapprove.

And we also hear a great deal about marrying and having children out of duty. There's a certain loss she feels there because she believes that, at that point, all those missed opportunities will never present themselves again. All her life, she grew up with a dichotomy that dictated that the chance of having a family or children was through duty or none at all, because she is her father’s heir and—they kept telling her—nobody would want an ugly, masculine, temperamental girl as a wife. They could only want her for the money she brought. The point of the story is that, once again, failing the standards of femininity has forced her into a mentality where she thinks she can’t be loved because nobody would like who and what she is. But even then, even with that thorn in her mind, she still feels relieved she didn't have to perform these particular duties. The only thing she’s sad about is that she thinks she's missed any chance at having a family at all and will never know what that might be like. She doesn’t actively want babies or even to be married. She is still young, and at least to me, she seems to view these things in hypothetical rather than explicit goals or wants. She thinks that, at 20, there is no opportunity for her to experience these things because of how her society works. It’s the lack of choice that she mourns, down the line. But she rejects that particularly role that femininity imposes on her now. She didn’t want it, and she is happy it didn’t go through. She literally fought an old man to prove how much she didn’t want those impositions.

All this is interesting to me because Brienne also sort of thinks of herself as her father's son as well as her father's daughter. It almost slips her mouth once or twice. She is aware, I think, that many times the differences between a son and a daughter boil down not really to gender but to the sort of duty they perform. And she wants to do the sorts of things sons do, too. Men regularly learned to fight and wore the clothes she liked best and used hard-earned skills in a way she wanted to use them. There are layers to this (we’ll get to that in a bit) but she is, I think, very aware of her masculinity, and, if left to her own devices, she seems comfortable in it. The problem is she is NOT left to her own devices.

Most of Brienne's self doubt comes from outside forces. As a woman, they underestimate her. As a woman, they think she is stupid. As a gender non-conforming woman, every jape uttered goes directly to her womanhood. As a woman, if she looks the way she does and dresses the way she does and fights the way she does, when she expresses any vulnerable emotion, any shred of “femininity,” she is mocked for it. She likes dancing and beautiful things and pretty boys but a woman as masculine as she is is not the sort of person who gets to express those preferences without judgment from those around her.

The point is Brienne’s world wants her miserable either way: being unable to be a woman the way they demand of her, because she is too much “like a man” for it, or being unable to be a man, because she is too much a woman for that. The point is she can’t win regardless of what she does. Because that’s how sexism works.

But Brienne’s story is, I think, one about choices. The thing is that the world makes it harder for her, but she shouldn't have to be one thing or the other. She shouldn’t have to be defined by one or the other. If she wants to fight in the mud and smell roses and wear chain-mail and talk to charming men, she should be able to choose all of those things. I think it’s easy to focus too much in what aspects of femininity Brienne likes or dislikes instead of looking at what the story is proposing, which is to look at what Brienne,as a person, likes or dislikes. What she wants. Her parallel story to Jaime is about how the world will always try to put folks in boxes, especially those who, for some reason or another, do not easily fit in those boxes. The question is not “what feminine/masculine parts of Brienne is she happy performing” but rather “what does Brienne want, and why does she feel like she cannot get it and doesn't dare ask.”

This is also what drives her to servitude. There’s a phrase out there that says that if you don’t think you can be liked, you try to become useful, so at least there’s a reason to keep you around. It’s heartbreaking to see how Brienne’s vision of herself has been so skewed by the emotional abuse, parental neglect, and bullying she’s experienced since a young age. She doesn’t think anyone will grow close to her, so at least she can be close to people by serving them. She wants to put her skills to use, she wants to find a place where she fits, where she can be more herself, but she isn’t sure what that looks like or how to find it. She’s still searching, and learning many things on the way.

And Brienne is still very young. We can see her confidence growing and her worldview challenged and she is beginning to see the realities of herself and of the world around her through various trials by fire. Misogyny makes her feel incomplete, but we know the things she trusts about herself while simultaneously seeing the way she constantly doubts others. How she can't never express all of herself without constant judgment or mockery.

I feel like yes, the fact Brienne doesn't reject all traditional femininity is really important to her themes, but by extension, it's as important that shedoes reject some of those traditional expressions of femininity. What she is truly rejecting is imposition, not femininity. What she truly needs to embrace is freedom, not masculinity. She's making her own vows, breaking her own promises, going through her own mistakes. She is learning the hard way. Agency in a world of limited choices is one of Brienne's main themes too. There are moral issues that go deep within her story as well as examinations of the effects of war and the struggle to find authenticity and connection in a community that refuses to acknowledge yours, a community drenched in pretense and lost in performance.

And I think it’s easy to get too caught up in her wanting to be a girlfriend or a mother or wearing a dress that we bypass the whole conversation around why that matters at all. I feel like Brienne's success isn't going to come from her fully embracing all her feminine traits or fully accepting all her masculine traits but from being able, down the line, to be exactly who she is.

#i was looking at my drafts and here are some scrambled ideas I had that I wanted to release so I've tried to make them more organized #brienne of tarth #asoiaf

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doberbutts · 3 months ago

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I saw your recent post about diversity in Dragon Age (and BG a little) and I want to start by saying that I agree with it 100%. Bioware does tend to have primarily white characters, and any characters of color do tend to have very limited sorts of personalities they’re allowed to have, even moreso for those who are explicitly black. I, too, would like it if they could do better.

I did notice something in it that made me curious though and I was hoping you’d be willing to elaborate further on your thoughts.

You identify both Neve and Josephine as black. Neve as “medium toned” and Josephine as “fairly light skinned” but both are used as examples of black women in your post. But then you say that Dorian is “ambiguously ‘of color’” and Lucanis “could be black with, as said, little-to-no change in [his] storyline.”

But Neve and Dorian are both from Tevinter, and while the empire is large and probably contains multiple ethnic groups, my impression from the games is that they’re from the same(ish) region and are probably the same race/ethnicity. Similarly, Josephine and Lucanis are both Antivan – if she’s a light skinned black person, shouldn’t he be considered the same?

I haven’t finished Veilguard yet. I don’t have a ton of time to play games, so I’m making my way though, but slowly. So it’s entirely possible that there’s more information that comes out about Neve and Lucanis’s background later in the game that informs what you’re saying here. If there is, just say “you need to finish the game before we can have this conversation.” But assuming there’s not, would you be willing to explain why you read the women as black and the men as not? I’m wondering if I missed something, or if it’s just different perspectives, or some other secret third option.

If you’re like, “nah, I don’t wanna spend my time answering this” no worries. Delete the ask and move on. But if you have the spoons for it, I am genuinely curious (and would be grateful) to hear your thoughts on this.

Oh no, this is totally a valid question to ask, it's just a little complicated to answer and I didn't want it to clog up the entire post which was already long enough!

First, I will note that I specifically pointed to Vivienne and Davrin as unambiguously black. I called them this because, unlike the other characters of color, there is no question of their blackness. They are black, simple as that. Neve, Zevran, Dorian, Josephine, they are more ambiguous due to their lighter skin tone and more European features, and thus could just as easily not be black. That is why I pointed out skin tone.

Second, I'd like to challenge something you've said here. Why is it unreasonable to think that someone who is from the same country or region may be a different ethnicity? Especially in a country that has a lot of movement in the types of people who circulate in and out, or that has a culture that heavily encourages that (slavery in Tevinter, the crows in Antiva)? That is actually a reason for a region to be *more* multi-ethnic, not less. I myself am from a fairly German-dominated section of the Appalachias despite the Appalachias having a huge population of the ethnic groups I am actually part of- is it so unbelievable that an afronative and Irish person might have been born in a place predominately occupied by the Amish? That I might have gone to class with Korean and Nigerian students in my cute little schoolhouse on a farm? Believable or not, that's how I grew up. So why would it be so hard to believe that two people from the same fictional country are not the same ethnicity?

But putting those two aside, I think it's best if I compare side-by-side:

Dorian is certainly believably "of color"- though I have seen people argue that he is simply intended to be very Mediterranean and others say he is supposed to be Indian or Pakistani or somewhat vaguely Middle Eastern. This is why I say he is "ambiguously of color" but not necessarily black. Neve, on the other hand, is darker than him and with less ambiguous features (and Dorian at 10 years older is also less ambiguous, tho also less convincingly black and significantly more Middle Eastern or Indian or Pakistani).

I know black girls who look just like her. I know Indian girls who do too. If we are to assume that Tevinter is full of people who look at least vaguely Indian, one has to then remember that India as a country has *several* ethnicities itself and thus it is very possible- probable even- to meet 2 people from approximately the same region of India and yet they look nothing like each other outside of a few traits we in the Western world would clock as Indian.

It's also why I called Bellara our first visibly and unambiguously Asian companion- because the others that could count as Asian such as Neve and Dorian are significantly more ambiguous.

The same is true of Lucanis and Josephine- moreso in fact than Dorian and Neve. Lucanis again could be considered somewhat Mediterranean or Middle Eastern, but Josephine? Lucanis may or may not be a man of color, though I would certainly count him as so light skinned he could potentially be white-passing if I'm supposed to read him as somewhat Spanish or Italian. Josephine is absolutely a woman of color, but what color exactly is where it is a little more difficult to determine.

This is also a fantasy world, so I'm not expecting ethnic features to match the real world 100%.

Now compare the four of them to the two I'm calling unambiguously black. While I could make the argument that Josie and Neve are mixed black, there is no need for argument for Viv or Davrin. They're both black, visibly, easily identified.

Now, the thing is with a mixed race and multi-ethnic population, if Thedas doesn't have the same reasons to keep the colors from mixing, then it is certainly possible that Dorian or Lucanis have someone as dark as Davrin in their family tree even as close as their grandparents. My father is about as dark as Davrin and while my bio sis and I are about Neve in tone, my bio sister's children range from Josie to Lucanis. Her son is fair skinned, blue-eyed, blonde haired, and if you didn't see him next to his sister and mother you would think that little boy had nothing but white in him.

But then, if Thedas does not have the same race politics as we do, then the one drop rule would never be enforced upon someone who appears white with black ancestry, and thus I would hesitate to call that person black. My nephew is white passing, but a similar person in Thedas may just be white. Or perhaps Thedas does not consider human ethnicity the way we do, and would take no notice either way. Though I do believe Viv says something about poor treatment due to her skin tone in Inquisition, but I may be mistaken if that was fandom generated or actually within the game.

All this to say- I would consider Lucanis to either be white (albeit Mediterranean) or ambiguously of color and Dorian to be of color but unsure exactly which ethnicity, but neither of them black. Josie and Neve, on the other hand, read to me as mixed black women.

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tossawary · 1 year ago

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I've been rewatching "Batman: The Animated Series" and I'm finding it pretty entertaining, because I barely remember anything from it and so, though some of it has aged quite poorly, I keep being pleasantly surprised by many elements. I'd recommend it as a casual / background watch to anyone who is already a fan of Batman and his gallery of rogues. The show is very episodic, so it has a lot of one shot storylines, and it can be both quite silly and shockingly dark and serious.

The production design and overall vibe is really fun and funny, because Gotham City is apparently simultaneously experiencing the 1990s and the 1940s, and also every decade in between. Art deco is everywhere. I like the moody backgrounds painted on black paper. The tech is so chunky. This city is stuffed full of futurists, industrialists, socialites, gangsters, mad scientists, and supervillains. Nearly every classic Gotham rogue becomes a supervillain here because some greedy businessman screwed them over and they decided to take revenge into their own hands.

Because the episodes are focused on their own little stories, you meet a lot of the ordinary people of Gotham, and you get the vibe that there's a lot going on in this city. (It's just Bruce on his own most of the time in the beginning, with Alfred, because while Dick Grayson is Robin, he's already off at college and only occasionally comes back to visit.) The stakes can get high, but they can also be personal. One episode is about a thief who's made himself an invisibility suit, but the climax of the episode is him attempting to kidnap his daughter away from his ex-wife.

One of the most recent episodes I watched opened with the Joker being escorted into the rec room at Arkham and sitting down to watch the news. (He changes the channel away from the gardening show that Poison Ivy was watching and they nearly get into a fight about it.) The news promptly reveals that someone has just opened a brand new $300 million casino that they've themed after the Joker. His face is everywhere. The blackjack dealers are dressed like him. It's all in incredibly poor taste. The Joker is furious and immediately escapes to destroy this new luxury casino.

Of course, Bruce Wayne is there because it's a big social event. And upon the theme reveal, he immediately has Alfred drive over to bring him his Batman gear, because he's like, "Joker is definitely going to try to destroy this ugly casino." And I was like, "Sheesh, I know this is Gotham and it's obviously filled with a rich person social scene that is weird beyond my comprehension, but this is weird even for them! Building a Joker-themed casino is just asking for trouble!"

And then Batman investigates and finds out that the casino's construction bankrupted the owner, so the owner hastily themed it after the Joker so that the Joker would come and destroy it. The whole thing is someone attempting to commit insurance fraud via the Joker. Incredible.

#tossawary dc #bruce wayne #the joker #spoilers #long post

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agaypanic · 8 months ago

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Hi! I have a request for Micheal Kelso x reader where it’s like the storyline with him and Brooke except when reader tells kelso she’s pregnant they decide to get married

Better a Friend Than a Stranger (Michael Kelso X Pregnant!Reader)

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Summary: After having a drunk hook up with one of your friends, you agree to pretend it never happened. But soon you find out that there’s growing evidence of your one night stand with Michael Kelso.

A/N: mentions of pregnancy (duh) and throwing up. reader is in the friend group, not a one night stand with a stranger thing like kelso and brooke were at the concert

***

If you’ve ever hooked up with Michael Kelso, more often than not, you don’t want to admit it. It’s not that he’s bad in bed. It’s just that he’s, well… Kelso. A horny goofball who’s dumber than a dog half the time.

If you’ve ever hooked up with a close friend, more often than not, you don’t want to admit it. A lot of times, it happens because of a lapse of judgment or a spur of the moment. If your other friends knew, the group dynamic would become unbalanced.

So when you hooked up with one of your best friends, Michael Kelso, you immediately made him swear to secrecy when you woke up the next morning. He pouted about it, wanting to brag about his recent lay. But Kelso agreed it would be best to keep the little drunken mistake between you. You got dressed, grabbed some breakfast, and headed over to Eric’s to hang out with the gang and pretend that you hadn’t fucked the night before.

A few weeks later, you started to feel uneasy. You had no clue what the cause could be. Thinking back, you hadn’t eaten anything bad or weird, or been around anyone who was sick.

But when you had to call out of work because you suddenly started throwing up one morning, and then the next few mornings after that, you knew something was definitely wrong.

“I just don’t know what it could be.”

“Are you sure it’s a cold?” Donna asked. Being your closest and probably most responsible friend, you asked her to accompany you to the pharmacy. “I mean, you don’t really look like you have a cold.”

“Well, I’m sick with something.” You sighed in desperation. “I’ve been throwing up almost every day for the past two weeks. I can barely keep anything down, but somehow, I’m gaining weight. I just don’t get it.”

While looking in the medicine aisle for something to treat your symptoms, you didn’t notice Donna leave your side with haste. She came back just as quick, startling you by thrusting some boxes into your hand.

“No.” You said immediately after reading what the box contained. “No way.”

You looked up at Donna, who looked back at you deadly serious. “Yes, way, Y/n.”

“There’s no way I’m pregnant, Donna.” But you yourself weren’t even convinced by your words.

“When was the last time you got your period?”

Donna looked at you quizzically, becoming more and more alarmed the longer it took you to answer.

“...Fuck.”

***

“What am I gonna do, Donna?”

You sounded completely drained, sitting on your bed defeated. In your hands were three pregnancy tests that you had just taken, all positive. You kept looking at them, waiting for them to change to negative signs. But they never did.

“Well…” Donna gently wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side. “You’re not in school anymore, which is good.”

“I think that’s the only good thing.”

You and your friend sat in silence for a minute, trying to wrap your heads around the situation you found yourself in. “Y/n, who’s the father?”

You stiffened at the question. Unfortunately, you knew exactly who it was. “Fuck.”

“Who is it?” Donna took you out of her comforting hold and grabbed you by the shoulders so you were face to face. You clearly didn’t want to answer. “Y/n, it can’t be that bad, right?” She laughed. “I mean, it’s not like it’s Kelso’s or something.”

Your eyes widened at the name before darting around the room to avoid Donna’s gaze. She gasped.

“No.”

“...Yeah.”

“No.”

“Yes, Donna. Yes!” You wriggled out of her now iron grip and fell back on the bed, looking up at your ceiling. “I slept with Kelso, and now I’m carrying a Kelso baby.”

Donna looked at you with complete disbelief, and you honestly couldn’t blame her. Although you loved Kelso, sleeping with him, drunk or sober, was considered a bit of a low. “Y/n, I think I just have one question.” You yelped as Donna whacked you on the shoulder. “How could you be so stupid?!”

“Hey! Don’t hit me, I’m pregnant!” You pouted, lightening the mood just the slightest bit. You sighed. “Look, we were both drunk. And we used a condom, but I guess it broke or something. But in the morning, we agreed to never speak of it.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to speak of it.” Donna pointed at your stomach. “It’ll be better for him to find out from you directly instead of seeing your stomach be the size of a watermelon.”

You shuddered at the thought and sighed, hating that Donna was right. “I know.”

***

Before telling Kelso about your situation, you avoided him for a few days. Well, not him specifically. You didn’t want to be in the Forman’s basement because you didn’t know how you’d react to the constant lingering smell of weed. Kelso, along with the rest of your friends, just happened to always be in the Formans’ basement.

But you had to tell Kelso eventually. So, after a week of wallowing in your house, you drove to the Formans.

As you pulled over to park on the street, you saw the boys playing basketball while Donna and Jackie chatted on the hood of the Vista Cruiser. Getting out of your car, you didn’t know if your stomach was turning from your nervousness or your breakfast.

You sped over to the girls, doing your best to avoid the rowdy boys and their somewhat rogue basketball. “Y/n, where have you been?” Jackie asked pointedly, scooting over to make room for you between her and Donna. “You can’t just leave me to be surrounded by testosterone for a whole week.”

“Um, Jackie?” Donna narrowed her eyes at the small girl. “You do know I’m a girl too, right?”

Jackie laughed. “Not by the way you dress, Donna.”

“Sorry.” You butted in. You were nervous enough as it is; you didn’t need to deal with this squabble. “I was getting over a bug.”

“You were sick?” The three of you were startled by Kelso towering over you. He tossed the ball in his hands to the side. “Donna, play for me.” You knew your friend wanted to say something about Kelso bossing her around, but you also knew she wanted you to talk to him alone. So she caught the basketball Kelso tossed her and started playing with the other boys. Kelso took her seat next to you. “You were sick?” He asked again.

You nodded. “Still am a bit.”

“Ew.” Jackie jumped off the Vista Cruiser, moving to one of the lounging chairs in Eric’s driveway.

You laughed at her reaction, turning back to Kelso. “I’m not that sick.”

“Good. Good…” Kelso stared at you for a moment, and you didn’t know why. Then suddenly, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you around and into the Vista Cruiser. Before you could ask why you were now hiding from your friends in Eric’s car, Kelso started talking again. “You know, I can’t stop thinking about that night.”

You sighed. Maybe it was a good thing that you were now away from any listening ears. “Yeah, Kelso, about that night. I-”

“I know we said we’d never talk about it. But…” He trailed off, staring at you again. “God, I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Kelso…”

“And I don’t mean that in a ‘I can’t stop thinking about your body’ way. Well, I do, but not just in that way!”

“Kelso.”

“But it’s weird, because I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before. Not even with Jackie, but don’t tell her I said that because even though she’s tiny, she’d kick my ass.”

“Michael!”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant!”

While your friends continued their basketball game, everything in the car stilled. Michael looked like he was gonna throw up. You felt like you were about to. Your lip started to quiver. He was just staring at you.

“Say something.” Your voice wavered slightly, and you took a deep breath to try and calm yourself. “Kelso, please.”

“It’s mine, right?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you nodded. “Yeah, it’s yours.” You looked out through the windshield, too scared to see his reaction. Donna was the only one keeping an eye on you, and it seemed she was debating coming over to help you get through breaking the news.

But Donna was suddenly out of your sight, because Michael gently grabbed your face and guided your lips to his. Your eyes fluttered shut as you reciprocated the kiss, feeling relieved that Kelso’s reaction was at least affectionate.

When he reluctantly pulled away, Michael was quick to speak. “I wanna be with you.” The words shocked you into silence, allowing him to continue without fear of rejection. For now, at least. “I know I’m not the most responsible guy, or the smartest, or the- that’s not the point! The point is, ever since that night, I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/n. I want to be with you, I wanna help you raise this kid, I wanna spend the rest of my life with you! Okay, that’s a bit dramatic, but I don’t care because-”

You silenced Michael’s mindless rambling by kissing him again. You were so overwhelmed with emotions, you didn’t know what else to do. But the action seemed to ground you both.

When you separated again, Michael had another thing to say. “Let’s get married.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs. “Don’t you think we should date first?”

“There’s plenty of time to date after marriage.” That made you cackle.

“This is so backward.” You said with a sigh. “I always thought it was date, marriage, kids. Not the other way around.”

Michael shrugged, wrapping his arms around you. “Who said we had to do things the traditional way?”

He leaned in to kiss you for a third time, but this time, you were interrupted by the car door behind him opening. You both looked over to see Eric leaning into the car, looking horrified.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” He asked, although it seemed he had a good theory. “Don’t make out in my car.”

“Aw, come on, Eric.” Michael rolled his eyes. “What’s the worst that could happen? I already got her pregnant.”

“What?!”

#agaypanic #michael kelso #michael kelso x reader #that 70s show #that 70s show x reader

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