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neoflect · 3 days

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sharing some of my disorganized jojo musical thoughts now that ive had a week to sit on it and ive rewatched it several times over. i intended to wait to publish something like this until a subtitled version was available, but im not seeing any indication that thats happening any time soon so for now youll have to deal with my loose interpretations from my extremely rudimentary and rusty japanese… so take what i have to say about the finer points of characterization with a grain of salt. gratuitous spoilers below obviously, both for the original source material and the changes made in the stage production

my feelings are OVERWHELMINGLY positive. of course there are things i can criticize or that i would have personally done differently but oh man… i have literally not thought about anything besides this fucking show for a week. im 100% confident in saying this is a better adaptation of the source material than the tv anime. sorry to the davidpro staff, i respect their hard work and their love for jojo and their dedication to what is by any metric a pretty difficult property to adapt off of the page, but i dont know if i can ever forgive them for leaving half of the first episode’s storyboard on the cutting room floor in order to fit a standard half-hour tv slot, especially considering that what they cut is some of the really crucial character-building stuff. happily those scenes are not only reproduced in the stage version, some of them are expanded upon!

with the quick disclaimer that i’ve only managed to get my hands on the final 4/14 performance with shotaro arisawa and yoshihisa higashiyama, from what i’ve seen the casting is perfect. i’m sure there’s a rip of the 4/13 performance somewhere (i’ve seen clips) but i haven’t been able to find one… every single performer knocks it out of the fucking park, the cast chemistry is incredible and even the minor characters are loaded with charisma. and mamoru miyano… my god… mamoru miyano i owe you an apology. i was not familiar with your game. of course hes been killing it for decades at this point but i had soured on him a little bit recently because i felt like he was overcast in everything and i just didnt connect with his dnt reinhard at all, so when the casting was initially announced back in august i was underwhelmed, and of course my standards for the dio role in particular were astronomically high… i’ll go more into detail later in the post because i have so so many things to say about dio’s characterization here but mamoru miyano’s performance is like, life-changing. i had impossible expectations and he exceeded them.

sorry if im gushing. i am a hater by nature. its unusual for me to be so thoroughly pleased with something. im not even a musical theater guy. these are strange new feelings for me.

just to balance things out i’ll talk about a couple of the things that didn’t really work for me: first of all, the music is just ok. my initial draft of this post called the music “bad” but three additional viewings later i have warmed up to some of the songs. i don’t know if this is a shortcoming by dove attia as the composer or if it’s just me, as i said i’m not a musical guy and a lot of the genre conventions of musical theatre are not really the things i look for in music that i enjoy, but like… even at their worst they are serviceable. nothing here is sonically unpleasant to me. high points are “resolve of the ripple” (zeppeli’s hamon training song, a jazzy swing number - it’s simply catchy and fun to listen to) and the closer “phantom blood” (a sweeping ballad that reprises the earlier “light and darkness”/”golden spirit” leitmotifs into an epic duet between jonathan and dio as they join hands and walk off into the darkness together… made me cry! i wont lie! on every single one of my numerous viewings this one got me misty eyed!)

wait i forgot this is supposed to be the part where i’m being critical. ok my most loathed song in the musical is “dio’s world”. sorry dio nation. it doesn’t really work for me. i think this might be a case of my standards/expectations being too impossibly high because it’s not even really the worst song in the whole thing. and of course miyano eats it up so it’s not really his fault. i just find it kind of underwhelming… i find the melody a little grating, it’s kind of just a generic rock number, it’s just missing a particular je ne sais quoi…. the essence of dio isn’t there… lyrically though i am obsessed with the premise of dio recruiting his minions by selling himself as a kind of social revolutionary who is upending and inverting the brutal hierarchy of post-industrial victorian society with zombie blood magic. you win some you lose some.

the second sticking point for me is the costumes. they’re perfectly serviceable… adequate… but i mean when it comes to jojo “serviceable” and “adequate” costume design obviously falls well below what’s expected, right? a lot of the outfits have kind of a boxy, almost flat-looking kind of unflattering fit on the actors, which if i wanted to be generous i could attribute to the challenge of bridging the gap between these frail slender musical theater twinks and the two-meter-tall 250lb roided-out beefcakes theyre meant to be embodying. (bearing this discrepancy in mind a lot of the insane martial arts stuff in the second act doesn’t really land with the oomph that it should, but i also understand logistically why this kind of casting is not practical, and all things considered i think shotaro arisawa does a really incredible job of embodying jonathan joestar even though he kind of looks like i could snap him in half over my knee like a twig. he’s very cute. so i’m not mad about it.) of course, again, logistically, i understand that in a stage musical production, where actors only have minutes to complete costume changes, some sacrifices have to be made to the creative vision in the name of practicality. nevertheless this is jojos bizarre adventure!! i want to see some fucking baubles!!!!!!

which is all to say that… after carefully considering it for some weeks… i still have extremely mixed feelings about dio’s grink ass feather bathrobe look. it’s not that i dont think its something he could wear (the concept of dio lounging around in his gothic vampire palace doing re-animator style body horror experiments on the local wildlife in this “officer i have no idea what happened to my husband”-ass nightgown is nothing short of hysterical to me) but then he wears it into combat and i felt a little disappointed… it has the same unflattering fit issue as the other outfits in the show, and it is just such an un-araki-like design… where are the gaudy color combinations? the bizarre geometric patterns? the tease of an exposed boob/thigh/midriff? erina gets a stage-original dress design that i have fewer issues with because the excessive pleats and ruffles have more of an araki-esque sensibility, but every time i look at dio’s robe it feels like there’s something missing. i’m going to choose to be nice about it because it’s not at all a deal breaker and, again, mamoru miyano devours the look. it’s fine. it’s always fun to have a new dio outfit. if anything, the fact that the blu-rays are being marketed as “2024 cast version” gives me hope for the possibility of a future production with a new vision for the costume design. (although the fact that this was such a difficult production - with stunts and pyrotechnics and moving setpieces - that its entire first week was cancelled indicates to me that the prospects for a future production from a different company are impossibly slim. i guess there’s always hope?)

in terms of the writing and the changes that were made from the original narrative, honestly i don’t really have an issue with anything that was cut. sorry if there are any diehard stans of Poco’s Unnamed Sister out there who are steamed that their favorite minor late phantom blood character got the axe, i kind of understand how you feel because i’ve been malding over david pro cutting the Danny Lore for eleven years, but i think it was the right choice and the story flows so much better. the real juicy meat at the core of phantom blood as a narrative and the thing that brings it head and shoulders above so much of the rest of jjba is the character-driven drama - that deliciously pulpy victorian gothic family tragedy - and the relationship between jonathan and dio. the musical beefs up the character drama and slims down the action-driven second half by trimming out the extraneous battles. the only real downside i see to this is that the absence of tompetty and his prophecy makes zeppeli’s arc and death feel INSANELY abrupt, but tbf that’s not a deal breaker for me. sorry zeppeli. you were born to die.

okay. okay. i think 1500 words into the post is enough fucking around so let’s talk about the real reason why you and i both know we’re here

musical dio is SO fucking sad. he’s positively wretched, you guys. he was born in a wet cardboard box all alone and forced to eat cement when he was six. he cries even more than he does in the source material and even when he’s not crying he frequently delivers his lines as though he is moments away from bursting into tears. back when the musical first opened i was snooping on the reactions on jpn twitter and one commenter said they could see miyano’s tears and snot from the nosebleeds even without opera glasses, a remark i initially assumed was hyperbole but that i now think probably was not. araki’s dio is certainly tortured and a deeply pathetic crybaby beneath all the cruelty and posturing, but changes in the musical and miyano’s embodiment of the character bring this pathos to the fore. he is literally haunted: dario’s ghost lingers, a manifestation of all of dio’s traumas and insecurities that emerges from the recesses of his memory to taunt him with the reminder that he will always be his father’s son, all the way up until the very minute that jonathan breaks down the door to his vampire lair. i am OBSESSED with this - not only for the obvious reason that i delight in dio’s suffering personally but also because kong kuwata is a delight and he fucking kills it every time. also lends itself to a category 10 leitmotif moment at the top of the second act when dio emerges from the charred ruins of the joestar estate singing dario’s theme and calling out to jonathan - if i had to pinpoint this is probably the moment when this musical stuck for me as the Real Deal. they Get It.

the first solo number in the show is dio’s disney princess I Want song (amazingly, simply titled “dio”) where he weeps for his late mother and his wretched lot in life, and then - in a creative decision that made me clap my hands and hoot and holler at my screen in real life - there is a reprise of this number (delivered, naturally, through tears) when dio is almost arrested for murder and decides to become a vampire instead. so there’s this amazing hopeful uplifting inspirational orchestral music accompanying the onstage action of dio ruthlessly slaying jonathan’s dad and then getting pumped full of lead by a bunch of cops. it is brilliant. 10/10 no notes. it’s moments like this that i think really sell the “softening” of dio in the stage version for me, even though i am historically Not A Fan of fanworks that take a similar angle - like, yes, he is sad, but specifically he is narcissistically obsessed with the spectacle of his own suffering, he is boiling over with bitterness and rage for everyone around him who (by his own estimation) could never hope to have suffered as much as he has. this sensitivity and self-pity he wallows in are not expressions of a guilty conscience or a desire to change - they’re entirely the opposite - every cruel and monstrous deed dio commits is always justified to himself because he is simply the saddest little boy who has ever existed. he has been done wrong by the world and so there is no limit to the depravity he may reasonably respond with. i’ve seen several commenters describe this as a drastically different interpretation of the character from araki’s dio (and someone told me on twitter that mamoru miyano himself has also said this, but i cba to go digging for an actual source so take it with a grain of salt?), but i… dont think thats the case! dio’s obsession with his own weakness and his self-perception as the eternal underdog (as compared to jonathan) are certainly more exaggerated in miyano’s performance, but i don’t think this is an angle to the character that’s been manufactured out of whole cloth. the genre conventions of the stage musical force the melodrama up to eleven and dio’s incredibly repressed angst is the most rich vein to mine for that. hair-trigger sadist dio is still here, it’s the same guy, he’s still killing people mercilessly, you’re just getting to see him sing a big ballad about his feelings instead of confining those to an internal monologue.

if anything, the exaggeration of dio’s pathetic/cowardly/crybaby traits combined with his megalomaniacal aspirations and bottomless well of cruelty is just right. it’s perfect. fucking around, finding out, and then trying to weasel his way out of the consequences with crocodile tears just so you don’t see him drawing his knife to cut you clean open… yeah. thats the stuff. thats my one true blorbo. sad to say i will love him for ten thousand years.

i think that might be all i have to say… or at least all i feel like saying here… most likely ill come back and edit this post later. i certainly have some additional thoughts and some more esoteric/controversial takes but they’re not suited for a public blog. real ones will understand. im keeping my eyes peeled for somebody to translate this thing but to be frank i am kind of enjoying this little corner of fandom as it is right now: just the asians and the true hardcore phantom blood phreaks. i have not had this much fun in jojo fandom in almost a fucking decade. as soon as somebody publishes an english version my timelines going to get flooded with all the most deeply annoying “kono dio da” “speedwagon waifu” reddit guys and 15 year olds and my suffering will proceed. unfortunately this is my lot in life and i am doomed to be here forever because dio put a worm in my brain

#⚰️#jjba tag for blacklisting purposes but i dont want this in the main tag

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hood-ex · 5 hours

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I feel your pain re finding good Dick/Nightwing-centric fic with good characterizations. Have you read this one: In This or Any Other Universe by wildsofmarch? I read it recently a loved loved loved it.

I read it last night and cried + because of what Dick said to Bruce at the end ("But always remember: I loved you first."), I literally haven't been able to get the daddy daughter song "I Loved Her First" out of my head since 😭.

I was cackling when Dick just wrenched Bruce's chest piece off and threw it like a batarang at the baddies 😂. And then I snorted when they were like:

Bruce: Look here, Mr. Hood...

Dick: Please. Mr. Hood is my brother. I'm just Robin.

Dick, shut up lmao. Mr. Hood is my brother 😆. There were some funny little moments like that I thoroughly enjoyed. And I loved how Dick immediately knew how to help when Bruce was having sensory issues and anxiety at the gala. The whole gala scene was so sweet with Dick coming up with different identities for himself, and the way he talked Bruce up to all the people there.

The circus scene made me emotional for Dick, especially for his conflicting feelings. I felt like I was mourning the loss of what could have been with Dick and Bruce in the Battinson universe. And that's why I started crying at the end when Dick said, "But always remember: I loved you first."

The very last scene of the story... it's really hard for me to come to terms with. I get the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think about Bruce taking in anyone else other than Dick first. Although, I suppose Dick technically was first in a way, just not under normal circumstances. Annnd... Dick already influenced Battinson by getting him to use "bat" before everything, so it does feel like he left his mark and influence.

The whole dynamic of Dick being the one to show Bruce a thing or two was really fun. Competent Dick was in full force, and I loved every second of it.

#thanks for the rec! that was a good one!#Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #fic rec #anon

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chloenadine · 1 year

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not 2 be controversial but I don't think I like the tl*u show

#ive had a day to think about it and idk #like some parts were good but other parts were meh #like if we're talking about it being one of the better video game adaptations that yeah its ok #is it like the most amazing piece of media ever? idk #I wrote out a whole thing and then erased bc it was kinda nonsensical and rambling and stuff #but basically like #I feel like there was too much time spent on adding extra bg info and not enough on actual canon scenes #and the bg info and world building was kinda weak??#obv I was expecting context and extra info and an expanded story but #didn't tie into the already existing story well #some of the characterizations felt off to me #weirdly paced and weird transitions #etc etc #d.txt #i didnt go into this as a hater like i was kinda excited but i am one anyway #I went through the tag and only saw like 1 person who didn't like it so idk #maybe I'll feel differently next episode the trailer looked more interesting #or maybe im just not good with things that are reboots or adaptations or whatever #idk im tired snzzz

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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 month

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#sorry im thinking abt death again #because it's weird to think that ive been in the room. maybe a meter away from someone as they died #that someone being my mom. its just weird. the time in the hospital feels like it happened in some dark little pocket universe detached from #time. a calm room and then the soft blips of a monitor then the nurse rushing in to say she'd passed #i dont kno y ppl use that phrase: passed on. i mean i do. it softens the topic. makes it sound peaceful. ive yet to use it. i just say she #died bc thats what happened. is that insensitive? i dunno. when i was home i realized that i come off as much stranger than i think. the way #my family see me doesnt fit how i see myself. i dont kno what to do with that. i dunno. theyre all together today #for an early easter. and im halfway across the country again. nose so stuffy ive had to mouth breathe for the last 3 days #and again. everything feels the same as it did before but also profoundly different. sometimes i cry in the mornings. or when i think abt #future vacations she wont be there for. bc in the end she quickly slipped away in a way that couldn't be described as peaceful until her #last half a day. and all i can think about in that tiny room is how scary it would be to lose control like that #and how its not fair and she didnt deserve to die only halfway through a lifetime. but its not about fair and its not about deserving.#sometimes bad things just happen. that's life. and now i own a book called motherless daughters. and now im standing with the countless #others who've lost their moms too early. ive already become aware of 3 ppl in my daily life who are in the same club #i keep thinking about this moment that happened between my parents at the hospital. apparently my dad was helping her get cleaned up and her #stomach was so bloated she looked like she had a bby in there. which my dad said. and my mom apparently said: but it's a baby no one want. i #dont kno y that upsets me so much. all the things i heard abt her being in the hospital before i got there upset me. and the rest of my #family was there to see it. so i have the least traumatic version of the story. and i got almost 27 years with her. except my sisters #probably got more time with her bc i spent so much time away. or maybe not. i dunno.#i dunno. im just sad that shes gone and sad that it was drawn out even a little bit. 6 days isnt long but im sure it felt like an eternity.#again not fair. nothings fair. 53 years of unfairness culminating in a tragedy. she would hate me characterizing it like that. she lived a #full life as they say. full with an asterisk on account of length #unrelated

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team-sleeps · 2 months

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The one thing I cannot forgive in this adaptation is the fact that they robbed half of the main characters of their one shared defining characteristic: they were all BRATS! Where is my Katara who has no problem strong arming her way through any situation and will be petty on demand? Where is my Sokka who Will and Can announce every single minor inconvenience he encounters? And WHERE is my Zuko who throws ultimate hissy fits about his Honor every 5 minutes and literally passes out after experiencing ONE (1) emotion?!

#atla #avatar the last airbender #i mean it was ok over all i guess #but the characterization is KILLING me homies #even iroh felt off 😭😭#where was the iroh that would literally eat some shit that may or may not kill him in the name of love and whimsy ???#i miss him !!!

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righteousruin · 2 years

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I genuinely love and hate that Bane went through this intensely transformative arc in Gotham Knights with meeting his father thanks to Dr. Thompkins and Bruce, and having his life saved by Batman, and it’s meaningful to the point where he’s like ‘I’m not Bane anymore actually’, and then we don’t see him again until two random panels in infinite crisis in which he is just. Out here. Fighting heroes. Zero context between points A and B, go girl give us nothing

#and then they used that one panel of him wrecking a D-Lister for a WHOLE PLOT in checkmate I yell #I don't know what this is but he just showed up and went rawr and then they were like 'bad guy no badding' and he was like 'okay'#just some rando judo guy outfighting bane while he's on venom i can't i cAN'T #like that time magneto was a one-off villain in spider-man and they were like 'yep peter won that fight no contest' aklsdj #i admit i do love this storyline of 'you killed my father AND you rigged an election! those are equally villainous things!'#it's extra funny if you know bane doesn't have to rig anything he quite literally owns the country of santa prisca #It was his price for working for Lex Luthor in Shadow of the Bat -- it's how Batman got him to leave without confrontation #He was like 'okay but when I'm finished with Luthor he's gonna pull this so you can leave now and cash in or you can wait to fight me'#and bane was like 'lmao good point bestie i'm outtie'#sometimes loving comic book villains means knowing that some random title is gonna borrow them to try and make their title character cool #and that's okay #the one that did it best was JSA they wrote bane REALLY well for his little two-issue guest spot #like it felt really relevant to his character he was characterized really well his defeat made sense it was nicely done #ooc #silly hours #Editors Note || Analysis

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lieutenant-amuel · 1 year

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"I don't know how well you get along with your father. But if you feel like he actually loves you and cares about you, you should talk to him and tell him what you like. Of course, it will be difficult and he might not accept that after the first conversation but the more you share your thoughts with him, the sooner he realizes that your own happiness means much more to him than the hopes he has pinned on you."

I’ll never be wiser.

#Personal #Was Born To Lead #I finished editing the seventh chapter!#Now only the eighth (actually the ninth now) one is left #and then I continue to write the new chapter <3 #The chess chapter is still my pride although looking through it I realize that it wasn’t written well either #But there are just so many things happening there I think it really makes this chapter very cool #Also there was one thing I was worried about when I started editing the old chapters #I wasn’t sure how good I am at consistency?#Like maybe my characters seem OOC or their characterizations just changes from chapter to chapter #Or maybe I forget what I put into the previous chapters and my storylines feel torn #But I don’t think it happens?#As for the characters some of them definitely changed but I don’t think it was sudden or unclear #and generally I think all the mains have quite a stable ‘voice’ so they’re pretty much recognizable #And as for the plot I occasionally bring up little details from the previous chapters and I never left any storyline unfinished #So I think I have no issues at this regard?#But I don’t know at least nothing felt off to me when I was reading the old chapters

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monimoonn · 2 years

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As much as I liked this season I don’t understand why they’re trying to make Steve and Nancy a thing. Nancy found someone who understood her in Jonathan and they had something deeper than Steve and her ever did but now they’re trying to downplay all of the relationship plus the character development? not just for Jonathan and Nancy but for Steve as wel!!

#stranger things spoilers #honestly the characterization this season felt a bit off for some of the leads #maybe it’s just me #Steve grew soo much as a character man just to make him go back to his hs gf #I would maybe understand if they explained it a bit more but like where is this coming from??#also you can’t just spend 3 seasons building up this great relationship with jancy to just throw it down the drain #WHATS THE POINT DUFFER BROTHERS

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notch-heket · 2 years

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A Futile Choice (4818 words) by NickedHatchet Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rockman X | Mega Man X Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: X & Zero (Rockman Classic Universe) Characters: X (Rockman Classic Universe), Zero (Rockman Classic Universe), Axl (Rockman X), Signas (Rockman X) Additional Tags: Alia makes a hint of an appearance, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, rated teen for the swearing Summary: X was built with the ability to think, feel, and make his own decisions, but the world had other ideas. When he finally rebels against the role that was forced upon him everything he strives for falls apart and he has to face the fact that his defining feature, the power to choose his own path, has never been an option. Even Zero is unable to help him through that depressing revelation. A look at the cause, progression, and eventual abandonment of X’s attempts at finding a non-violent option to his life’s work before and during X7.

Preview under the cut

Maverick Hunter HQ felt different nowadays. Quieter; and yet somehow far more restless than it had ever been. Corridors and halls that had once buzzed with activity were hauntingly empty, bar lone reploids hurrying through on their way elsewhere. You’d hardly believe that they’d managed to restore a large part of their numbers since the Earth Crisis. The Hunters are restructured and refocused now. There are no units, hardly any teams, and anyone not out responding to a maverick incident is immediately put to work in the restoration efforts.

Zero is no different. He’s just returned from a scouting mission to an old factory district, clearing out rogue mechaniloids and assessing the damage. Not exactly a challenging assignment, but now that the area is cleared they can send a construction team out to restore it.

He fully expects to be sent out again immediately, but Signas pulls him aside when he returns to the command centre and gives him a more unofficial assignment.

“I’m waiting on a report from X on the Maverick incident in Arcadia’s Biochemistry Research Lab this morning,” the commander informs him. “And it’s been… quite some time. He’s usually prompt with the paperwork.”

Zero quirks an eyebrow at the taller reploid, picking up on the unspoken concern. “And you want me to ask him about it.”

“Precisely,” Signals replies. “There is no rush, but I would like to know how it is coming along.”

“Sure,” Zero shrugs. “I’ll check on him.”

Signas folds his arms behind his back and nods solemnly. “Thank you, Zero. You’ve both been working very hard as of late. I’d hate for either of you to overburden yourselves.”

“Yeah, I got you. Can’t have your top hunters go out of commission,” Zero quips, hiding his own growing concern with an easy smirk before he leaves without waiting to be dismissed.

His steps echo hollowly across the empty HQ as he makes his way toward X’s office. The commander’s worry wasn’t unfounded. It wasn’t like X to slack off at administrative work. Or any work for that matter. In fact, the thought of X not putting his all into any given task was unheard of, if not outright absurd, which only raises Zero's concern further. Something must've happened. Or something was happening. Something bad enough to impact X's usual diligence, and either Zero had not picked up on it earlier or X hadn't told him about it like he usually would.

That thought weighs heavy on him as he reaches X's door and he pauses briefly before he knocks.

"Hey. It's me. You got a moment?"

There's just enough of a delay in the response that Zero worries X might not be present. But then the door slides open.

No greeting. That was a bad sign.

X is seated at his desk, elbows resting on the tabletop and his fingers interlaced under his chin as he stares blindly at his computer screen. He doesn't even look up as Zero enters the room.

Bad sign number two.

As if the dense silence hanging over the office isn't enough of a blaring alarm, Zero immediately notices another concerning sign. The teacup on X's desk looks completely untouched, and even from where he's standing, he can tell it's gone cold.

…shit.

"X?" Zero tries gently, hoping it'll be enough to knock him out of whatever dark hole he's thought himself into.

The response is slow. X closes his eyes for a full second before he turns his attention to Zero. And, of course; his first word is an apology.

"Sorry… I'm just—" he leans back in his chair and shakes his head to dismiss some lingering thought. "What's up?"

If Zero's frown could get deeper it would have rivalled the Mariana trench, but X doesn't seem to notice.

"Just checking in," Zero says casually as he makes his way across the room. "Signas was wondering about some report of yours?"

"Oh," X replies flatly without a single sign of comprehending what his friend had just said. What follows is another pause that is far too long for Zero's liking. "Yeah, I'm— I'm still working on it."

At this point, he'd be less concerned if he'd walked in to find X bawling his eyes out.

Alright, to hell with subtlety.

He places his hands on the desk and leans in toward X, taking the chance to surreptitiously check how long the teacup has been abandoned by moving it to the side as he does so. Yup. Room temperature. Fantastic.

He fastens his obviously distraught friend with an uncompromising glare. "What's going on, X?"

#hatchet writes #mega man x #rockman x #sometimes them writings be fueled out of spite #this one sure was #x7 made me grump #both because its characterization felt so off #but also because i saw so much potential in the concept #so i spent some time exploring it

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appleblueberry-pie · 1 month

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Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's

A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.

SCENARIO:

"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."

You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.

"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."

You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.

"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."

YANDERE REACTIONS:

Sukuna:

Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?

He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.

He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.

Kento:

Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.

But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.

"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.

Suguru:

"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.

"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?

"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.

"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.

Choso:

Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.

He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.

Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.

He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.

He hates this park.

"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"

Toji:

Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.

No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.

You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.

He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.

Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.

Satoru:

Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.

He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."

Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.

He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.

"Satoru??"

He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.

He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.

"Satoru!"

Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.

Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."

No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.

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pinkaditty · 4 months

Note

Can i pls request some facesitting headcanons for Satan, Mammon, Sitri and leviathan with a fem s!o? Thank you ❤️

hihi this was my first non-anon ask and yes ofc u can!! <3333

summary: facesitting and pussy eating. how will the men of WHB handle it?

a/n: woohoo i've been excited to do this ask tbh!! like seriously i've really been looking forward to it!!!! the only one i don't know much abt is Mammon buuuuut i do know his personality and idiosyncrasy so im hoping that's enough to characterize him properly!

cw: fem!reader (sorry, the one time i don't do gn... I PROMISE GN NEXT TIME!!), reader has a vagina, facesitting, pussy eating, suffocating (leviathan), cardiophilia (Sitri), pygophilia (Mammon), spanking (Satan), male whimpering, masturbation, and lots of tongue usage. NOT PROOFREAD!

MINORS DNI AS USUAL!!!!! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY! THANK YOU!

Satan:

well. he does like spanking!

he won't say no to you sitting on his face ofc that's whatever, as long as he gets to spank your ass while he does it.

he especially doesn't care which way you're facing, because either way, there's an ass close enough for spanking. good enough for him.

will definitely just roughly massage and spank your asscheeks while he makes quick work of you with his tongue.

don't really know why but i think he's totally masterful at it.

knows exactly where your sweet spots are in seconds and abuses tf out of them.

pays especially close attention to the clit, and he's the most gentle with his tongue there. he doesn't mind spanking you, but he doesn't want to hurt you, especially not your sensitive areas. he won't mind if his nails leave a few marks, though.

he won't really stop until he's satisfied. you can't pull yourself off of him because you're not beating him in the strength department.

sorta thrusts his hips up into the air as he eats you out. gets painfully hard really quickly.

His nails, sharp as claws, dig into the skin of your ass, leaving deep bruises and small cuts. You groan painfully, curling your hands into fists and twitching at the sensation. You reach out and pull on his hair. He only grunts, continuing to draw soft circles around your clit with his tongue, smacking your ass once with his right hand before cupping your cheeks and pulling you closer to him. The sensation of his tongue swirling around your clit is almost enough to distract you from his nails still clawing into your backside. His tongue is gentle and slow, tracing soft circles around the sensitive nub. His pace is consistent; not so slow you'd lose your mind, but not so fast that you'd be overstimulated. He takes his time, even pausing gentle stimulation of your clit to lap at your hole, already dripping juices from how delicious it all felt.

This back and forth continues, at the same constant pace. Every time you reach orgasm, he smacks your ass again and continues on his pace, gently licking soft circles around your hardened clit.

At this pace, you'll hardly be able to take whatever devil energy he can give you.

Mammon:

well. he's similar to satan in that he likes ass (similar to me too lol).

will probably be doing almost exactly like what Satan's doing, just with less spanking and more groping and general ass appreciation.

will definitely prefer you facing away from him so that he can really be immersed in ass.

he's really slow with it, though. like where satan will put you through multiple in minutes, mammon will give you one every agonizingly long stretch of time filled with not enough pleasure to get you off, but enough to keep you squirming and impatient.

he will find your sensitive spots, but rather than abuse them, he switches between them. he'll take his time getting you off. he's very slow with it, so much so that it almost feels like he's edging you (he sort of is but he's greedy he likes to savor it and take his time. he knows you're already his anyway. why not take his time?)

will lick stripes rather than circles. he will lick your clit directly instead of teasing swipes from a circular motion.

will also dive his tongue between your folds very often, lapping at your juices like a dog does water.

is constantly squeezing, groping, and rubbing his hands all over your ass, simply enamored by it regardless of size.

definitely without a doubt gets hard but probably won't acknowledge it. he's greedy for you, not his pleasure (though he absolutely will be later).

His tongue switches back to your clit, licking slow stripes, pushing the flesh up and down with his tongue. Idly, you wonder how he can keep at this for so long, but such a thought does not last- not when the repeated, slow motions scatter your thoughts with how ridiculously good it feels. You tense up, eagerly stifling your twitching and staying in place, feeling the pleasure build up at last. He keeps going, licking soft stripes up and down your clit, moving his tongue so masterfully rhythmically that barely a sound comes from his technique. You clench and unclench your hands, your eyes spin in your skull, your heartbeat quickens, and your breathing deepens. Surely this was it, surely--!

You feel the telltale motion of his tongue giving one last rough, prolonged stripe to your clit, before he switches back to your waiting hole, diving his tongue inside hungrily and dragging it along your insides, collecting all the juices his greed so desires. You curse, having been so close, and he teasingly squeezes your ass in return. You can feel him smirking into your folds.

Sitri:

oh boy. ohohooooo boy.

he could care less which way you're facing. what matters is, regardless of the position you take up, your thighs are pressed directly against his ears. he can hear your heartbeat from afar but it's never enough.

will wrap his arms around your thighs to ensure that you stay put and to really press your thighs into his ears. he just cannot get enough of your heartbeat. thump, thump, thump...

is less careful with his fangs than the other demons. absolutely will not hurt nor bite you but when he's tonguing your folds the smooth edges of his teeth may slide against you. not painful.

is not very calculated with his technique but doesn't really need to be with your heartbeat as a dead giveaway. he just laps and laps tirelessly like a parched dog but somehow it hits the good spots.

honestly it's the way he does it that turns you on more than how it feels. how desperate each stroke feels is what really does it.

strokes with his tongue are wide, all-encompassing, and sloppy. he's drooling so much that it only makes you wetter.

buries his face as close as he can so he'll often pull back for air before burying himself again.

eats you out like he's never eaten anything before.

gets hard very quickly and will gently remove his hand from your thigh to jack himself off. does it quietly so you won't notice because he thinks it's embarrassing. eventually his muffled moans into your folds give him away and you just start riding his face. not that he minds.

He just keeps lapping. Like a dog at a water bowl after a long, dry walk. He just doesn't seem to stop. It feels good - almost too good. You writhe and twist, curling your toes from how delicious it feels, but you can't move much; his strong arms still holding you down in place and keeping your thighs hard pressed to either side of his face. He just has to listen to your heartbeat in his ears. He just can't get enough of it, of you. He keeps lapping, his tongue sliding between your folds, gentle but quick, sliding across your hole and just barely tickling your clit before he retracts and licks again. The buildup feels slow, but you've finished before you know it, the gentle tickles of your clit driving you to orgasm. Your whole body shakes and your eyes roll back, and he lets you ride it out, keeping up his gentle strokes against your clit. You shiver as sparks pop behind your eyes, slowly coming down from your high. He squeezes your thighs once more, and breaks away, taking a few deep breaths. The cool air hits your folds and you flinch, twitching just slightly at the sensation. As quickly as he pulled away, he dives back in, dragging his tongue across the length of your labia, gently slipping between to tease what's there. You groan, feeling sensitive, the continued motion making you feel overstimulated. You curl your toes, shifting yourself just slightly, trying your best to bear the overwhelming feeling. It just feels too good, the gentle drag of his tongue, the soft tease of your hole and clit, and the finality of it all before he immediately starts again. You can't take it.

You feel the pressure of his hand of your thigh gently lift. You can't be bothered to pay much attention to that until you hear the soft clink of a belt being undone, and you know what he's doing. You can barely smile in satisfaction due to overstimulation, but you manage, and reach down for his blue silky hair, pulling tightly on it. He moans, and stops lapping, simply holding his mouth open, preparing for you to ride him. He's practically shaking, trembling in silence except for the repeated sound of his hand sliding up and down his length.

Leviathan:

the less he can breathe, the better.

literally. no if's and's or but's. the less he can breathe the better. surprisingly he's not much into choking you... rather he wants you to choke him.

and he doesn't care how you do it.

so suffocating under you while you take what you need from him, yeah! he is more than on board for that.

prefers you facing forward so you can use his nose to rub your clit on while your folds are spread over his lips, revealing your hole, perfect for him to stick his tongue into while you move back and forth over him.

this way, he can't breathe! and yeah, he gets off to that really fast.

will attempt to hold your hips as you ride him, but may be unable to focus much so he might claw his hands into the sheets.

while he's totally into this, you will have to lift off of him occasionally. but not for very long.

you can watch as his eyes roll back from the relief of finally being able to breathe, his face red as a cherry, his tongue lolled out and covered in your juices.

and then you sit right back down and he can't breathe anymore. but he's not complaining. at all.

he's thrusting his hips upwards, as though he's desperate to feel some friction. he's so into being suffocated, he can't even focus on his own arousal.

won't really touch himself. after your first orgasm or so he's already cum untouched.

for every one orgasm of yours, he's probably had one to three.

You're riding his face like you would a horse, using the chain between his horns as reins, pulling his face deeper into you. He obliges, following your pull ever so obediently, burying himself deeper into your folds. You're moving your hips along his face as fast as you can, his nose providing the perfect stimulation for your clit. You can barely see his eyes peeking over your thighs, but they're there, rolled back in ecstasy. His face is bright red, and he can't breathe. He's clinging to the sheets, gripping them tightly for some semblance of grounding, but he's too far gone.

You're much the same, dizzy and blissful from how good it feels. His nose is gently pressed into you, your clitoris rubbing back and forth over it. His nose supplies just the right amount of pressure, enough to send you over the edge. His open mouth and lolling tongue are perfect for catching your juices and teasing your hole, pressed right against it, and you feel every tremble and every moan. Sometimes he moves his tongue just slightly, circling your hole as you move. It makes you grip the chain harder, putting pressure on his horns, to which he moans rather loudly.

When you finally feel the orgasm coming, the building blissful pressure turning into a peak, your folds twitching with anticipation; you suddenly push the chain away from you, pressing his head into the sheets. Your hips follow him, pressing his face deeper into you and his head deeper into the pillows. His already jerking hips suddenly thrust into to the air, and you hear and feel a strangled moan as he reaches his peak, his whole body quivering as he soils his pants. You press deeper into him as you orgasm yourself, you clit quivering against his nose, your juices spilling into his mouth. For a moment, you stay like that, holding his chains so tightly they leave indents in your skin. Soon you release, letting go of his chains and lifting off of him a little, giving him a chance to breathe. He's twitching, all red in the face, and panting heavily, his mouth wide open, tongue lolling out. You only give him a minute before you sit right back on his face again. He moans, satisfied, and ready for another round.

a/n: okay so perhaps i got a little carried away with my blatant displays of favoritism. perhaps. but it's not my fault!!!!!!!!! i like them submissive. :(

okok but anyway i hope you all enjoyed woohoo!! one more ask after this, but ill do pervert pt 3 before I answer that ask. anyways, please please please let me know if you all enjoyed it!! leave a comment, do a quick reblog, and submit an ask if you want something written just for you! im happy to write for you! thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate you!

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reidmotif · 5 months

Text

Always Bet on Black

Summary: Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night, when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress.

Prompt: The BAU throws a casino night charity fundraiser. Spencer is a menace. Someone has to find a way to distract him.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: drinking, gambling (i have never gambled in my life nor have i played poker or blackjack. this will be super apparent in this fic. many apologies), nipple play, oral sex (f!receiving) hickies, Reader POV, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

“And that’s another win to the gentleman on my right!” The dealer announces for what feels like the millionth time that night. There's a shit-eating grin on Spencer Reid’s face as he leans over the blackjack table, wrapping his arms around the hearty stack of chips in an almost in an exaggerated manner, pulling it back towards him much to everyone’s dismay.

My dismay, especially, because while- yes, this is for charity, and what Spencer’s doing could be characterized as noble in some roundabout way, it was getting a bit repetitive. Spencer was so focused, a thousand times more than anyone else at that table, his brain working a million miles a minute to provide him with the best course of action when it came to gambling.

And so far? It worked perfectly. While everyone else was taking their chances and betting away, praying that the odds would line up in their favor, Spencer Reid did fucking math, and suddenly the odds were his bitch. I was beginning to understand why every casino in Las Vegas had him banned now. If he was giving the BAU Casino Night a run for their money like this, I can’t imagine the Bellagio being too pleased with having him either.

I sighed at the thought, and it seemed Spencer picked up on it, the corners of his lips turning upwards, trying to feign a chagrin expression as he stacked his chips on top of the other.

“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” He says, looking at me. “Are you not enjoying yourself?”

Spencer Reid is usually nice, humble, and sweet. In all honesty, I should not be feeling this hostile and sore at the fact that he’d managed to beat me almost every single time we’d played blackjack. My embarrassment was only heightened when I thought of how I’d (stupidly) bragged beforehand that I’d never lost a game in college.

How quickly my streak was destroyed.

My pride was bruised, and the man in front of me knew it.

“I’m enjoying myself just fine.” I say, trying not to grit my teeth as I say the words.

“You look a bit hot.” He says, referring to my face that had gotten slightly red after the most recent loss I’d taken. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” He asks, his gaze turning less cocky, and more sweet and polite.

I melt a bit. “Okay. No need to be a sore loser.” I think to myself. “This is a sweet man, and he’s offering you a drink. Yes, he’s destroying you right now and knows it, but it’s not like he’s acting like a complete dick about it.”

I nod at his words, sending a small smile his way.

“A drink would be great actually.” I finally respond, and he gets up, pushing his chair in.

“I’ll be right back.” He says, turning away from me, and sauntering towards the bar.

I take a second to admire him as he walks away, the suit and tie ensemble he picked out for the night complimenting him so well. I’d never say it out loud, considering we were coworkers, but something about seeing him so dapper, so much more.. mature brought out a warm feeling in my stomach, one that made me shift in my seat as I tried to rid myself of thoughts of grabbing him by his tie, placing a hand on his perfectly sculpted jawline, pulling him against me and- no!

He. Is. Your. Colleague. Snap out of it!

In lieu of my wandering thoughts, I’d realized I had actually heated up quite a few degrees and in an attempt to combat the sudden body heat, I shrugged off the shawl I’d been donning for most of the night. I felt the cool air hit my exposed shoulders and chest, and relaxed a bit, starting to feel my temperature lower. Right as I did so, Spencer returned to his seat, holding two drinks.

I turn towards him, still seated. He’s sitting in his seat, facing towards me as well, and I instinctively reach over to grab the drink in his hand, expecting him to meet me halfway and transfer the cup to me. But instead of the expected interaction, he seems a bit dazed, an intense expression on his face as he bored his eyes into me, studying me almost. It’s an expression that causes me to raise my eyebrows at him.

“Spencer?” I say. “Hello?” I wave my hand a bit, trying to break him from his trance. “The drinks?” I add, and that’s what seems to break him out of his preoccupied stupor. He blinks a bit before shaking his head.

“Sorry. Sorry. I spaced out there for a moment.” He says, hastily handing me my glass and turning away completely from me, taking a sip out of his. I can notice a small tremor in his hand as he sets down the liquid on the table, and I’m a bit concerned. He was just fine a moment ago. Did someone say something whilst he was at the bar? Did he choose to ponder some life-changing information as he took his seat at the table? Was he losing it for no reason at all?

Regardless of what it was, I didn’t have the time to contemplate it further or question him about it because the dealer was beginning to shuffle the deck of cards again.

As the next game started, there was something fundamentally different about Spencer. He looked almost panicked, even going as far as to loosen his tie as he played. I thought I’d maybe imagined the changes, until finally, I got a real indicator that something was off. For the first time that whole night- he lost.

My mouth was agape as the dealer announced the house win, and as I looked between him and the table, he didn’t seem all that fazed, simply shrugging as he attempted to get up. Before he could slip away, I grabbed his arm and brought him a bit closer to me, so that I could speak to him over the sounds of the bustling party around us.

“Spencer- wait. Is something wrong?” I ask, the genuine concern in my tone apparent to anyone who might’ve walked by.

“Yeah, no. Um. Why wouldn’t it be?” He says, his eyes everywhere except me. It was almost comical. The ceiling tiles couldn’t be that interesting.

I grip his arm a little harder, urging him to look at me, to talk to me. “You lost! That hasn’t happened all night! Was someone- did something happen? Are you feeling okay?” I ask, my eyes trying to meet his.

He gulps, finally looking at me. “Statistically, card counting can’t actually work every time so I was bound to lose at some point right?” He says, a little shakily, and despite his words making logical sense, the notion that something was wrong didn’t leave me.

“You promise?” I say, looking at him as intensely as I possibly could to ensure he wouldn’t try to evade giving me an honest answer.

He gives his signature, flat smile, nodding. “I’ll be fine. Look. I’m gonna go play some other games. Maybe rack up my luck somewhere else.”

I lick my lips and finally let go of his arm, nodding. “Have fun.” I say, and he gives me a little wave.

“You too.”

For the next hour or so, I found myself dabbling at the other assortment of games offered by the Bureau that night, until yet again, my path crossed with Spencer, who seemed to be on a pretty hefty winning streak- if the stack of chips he’d accumulated wasn’t a clear sign of that already.

I stood by the table, slightly out of his view, a little amazed by the way his eyes followed the deck and everyone’s movements so precisely. The level of focus required to do what he was was absolutely no joke, and I couldn’t help but admire in silent awe at the exactness of the whole process. It only made him that much more attractive in that moment, if that was even possible.

“Royal flush.” He announces, fanning his cards as everyone at the table groans. It’s only then when his gaze meets mine, watching him, and I can observe the signs of a tell-tale blush creeping up his neck. Odd.

“(Y/N)! Hello.” He says, quickly. “Still liking the party?”

“I am, thank you.” I say, my eyebrows slightly furrowing at how oddly he’s behaving. “Mind if I join the next round?” I ask, already starting to take my seat.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He says, clearing his throat and turning his entire body away from me. Spencer and I usually got along just fine. There was nothing ever particularly sour about our relationship, and I’d like to think that in the time I’d spent at the Bureau, our shared experiences had brought us closer. However, the way he was acting as of right now, like we were strangers or mere acquaintances threw me off beyond belief.

It was official, something was off.

I leaned over a little closer, trying to get him to look at me.

“Spencer, I know I’ve already asked but is anything-“ I start, and I can see him glance over, and then almost rapidly turn his gaze away.

“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s play.” He rushes out, his words teetering on almost being high pitched.

It didn’t evade me however, in that short microsecond he took to look at me, his gaze dropped partially down. I internally followed his line of sight to realize that my breasts were practically spilling from my dress. I knew that it was a bit showy, but didn’t think much of it when I’d chosen to wear it for this occasion. The event was black-tie, and so I’d fished out a number I’d haphazardly bought during an online shopping spree. It was black and sparkly, but the main caveat of the dress was the gorgeous bodice in the front, managing to give a good show of cleavage whilst pushing up my breasts and making them all that more appealing to anyone who noticed. I began to connect the events of the night, realizing that someone clearly had noticed.

Spencer’s losing streak had coincidentally begun once I’d lost the shawl that was once covering my chest.

An idea slowly entered my head. An experiment, if you will. As we started another game, I barely paid attention as my fingers slid over to what looked like a glass of water on Spencer’s side.

“Spence?” I murmur, tapping his shoulder.

“Mm?” He asks, not even taking a moment to look away from his cards.

“Mind if I take a sip from your water?” I ask, keeping my voice saccharine and innocent.

I can see the look he shoots me, his eyes slightly narrowed in surprise but he quickly looks away. “Yeah, um. Sure. Go ahead.” He responds dismissively, as if talking to me for even a second longer would result in him breaking out in hives.

Totally out of character. For all the closeness in the world, Spencer Reid would never have shared a glass of water.

As I began to sip the water, I did something that could be categorized as deeply stupid, but in the name of my experiment, it was absolutely necessary. I slightly tipped the glass, allowing the cool water to run down my neck and drip onto the swell of my breasts. I made a show of getting up, touching my chest to try and rid myself of the moisture that was now coating my breasts.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’ll get you another glass of water.” I say,letting my breasts bounce a bit as I stand up, and when he looks at me, it’s more apparent than ever that his eyes aren’t gracing mine anytime soon. Not when I was like this.

I grinned in secret as I turned around, quickly bringing over a replacement glass to him, leaning over so that if he were to simply turn his head even slightly to his left, he’d get a direct look at what he simply couldn’t seem to take his eyes or mind off tonight.

“Uh. Thanks.” He stammers again, shakily drinking the water as he miserably failed at not looking. Bingo.

When the next round of our game commenced, he lost horrifically, as expected. His mind was in an entirely different dimension, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride, knowing it was me who’d rendered him dumb. So unfocused. So unlike himself. It wasn’t until I felt a tap on my shoulder, noticing Spencer’s hand carrying out the action.

“Walk with me.” He says, simply. His tone was so sharp and commanding, I found myself listening with no hesitation, following as we moved to a more secluded bit of the party.

“What are you doing?” He asks in an accusatory tone, his voice a hushed whisper.

“What do you mean?” I respond, a faux naivete in my words, which he only scoffed at. He leaned in closer, his brows furrowed. I could notice a small vein popping out from his forehead, and the sight only increased the ache I’d begun to feel in my panties since he’d directed me here.

“You know what I mean.” He says, dangerously. “You’re flaunting yourself.” He adds, his jaw tight. “You know what it’s doing to me. You’re enjoying it.” I could tell he wanted to say so much more, the grit in his tone leading me to believe there were some much cruder words he wished to utter to me.

Regardless, the authority in his tone only spurred me to try and resist. It was so hot watching him like this. Maybe a bit fucked up to say that, but it didn’t matter in that moment. I only wanted to test the limits. To see the new man I could bring out in Spencer Reid tonight.

“So what if I am?” I say, biting my lip. “It’s a party, Spencer. We’re all having fun, aren’t we?”

“No.” He responds, darkly. “I’m not having fun.”

A proposal came to mind. One I knew that would pan out deliciously, since I’d now gotten a look into his extensive lust tonight, and just how desperate he seemed. I leaned forward to whisper to him, my lips teasing the outer shell of his ear.

“Win another game, and I’ll show you just how much fun you could be having.”

He immediately pulls back. His eyes narrow, and I can see the weight of my words course through his mind, evaluating the odds of my statement before clicking his tongue.

“See you in 30 minutes.” is his response, as he walks away, beckoning me to follow him to yet another Blackjack table. I grin, sitting beside him.

My presence doesn’t seem to phase Spencer whatsoever this time around, his laser-point focus uninterrupted even as I stared shamelessly at him. It wasn't until the game seemed to be reaching its turning point, in which Spencer had to decide whether drawing or staying would bring forth a better outcome for him. I watched as he mulled over the decision for a few seconds before his eyes locked onto mine, gaze intense.

“Draw.” He voices, not even paying mind as the dealer announced his win.

Spencer gets up without a word, and I can see him head towards a hallway that houses a few restrooms in the building.

“Sir- your winnings!” The dealer calls out, but I smile apologetically, starting to follow Spencer to a more secluded area of the party.

“Sorry. He’s probably a bit preoccupied. I’ll let him know!” I respond, already turning around and making my way to the same hallway Spencer had gone down, finding the bathroom and opening it. I knew Spencer would be there, but what I didn’t expect was to be pulled into his arms, greeted by Spencer’s lips insistently pressing against mine, his free hand clutching the back of my head, as his other hand went to click the lock into place. I responded with a momentary bout of shock, but quickly found myself melting into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“You like watching me lose, is that it?” He whispers harshly, in between kisses. I can feel the anger, the lust and passion, all rolling into one as his lips meet mine, over and over again, creating the sweetest of sensations that wracked my whole body.

“Mm. Not just you losing. You losing because you’re distracted. Because of me.” I say, my tone a bit dazed and breathy from the intensity he was putting me through.

“Can you blame me?” He murmurs, his lips now trailing down my neck, paying close mind to a particular spot on the side that left my knees weak. “You wear this dress and expect me to not take my eyes off of you?”

His hot breath grazes over my skin and I can feel myself shiver. I’m completely overwhelmed by him. The feel of his hands caressing the small of my back and waist, his smell of his cologne wafting around me. I can only breathe unsteadily, and hold onto him, a needy whimper slipping past my lips.

“Shh. You’re okay. I got you.” He murmurs. His tone was sweet, soothing, but his actions were anything but, as his fingers slipped around to find the zipper on my dress.

In an instant, his mouth was finally all over my breasts, his mouth leaving a few marks on the expanse of my chest before his tongue began to sweep over my nipples, swirling around the raised bud, leaving me grappling to his shoulders, as more moans poured out from within me.

“You like that?” He breathes against my skin, and I nod, frantically. I’d never expected to go this weak, but he was so much more skilled with his mouth than I’d ever expected.

“Please. Keep going.” I moan, and I can feel his hands on my thighs, urging me into his arms. I comply, and can feel myself be lifted to the bathroom counter, his hands squeezing the fat of my hips before dropping to his knees. His fingers looped around my underwear, and I attempted to move in a way that would aid him in their removal. As soon as they were off, he stuffed them into his pocket, and moved to lift my dress up, his face disappearing into my now spread legs.

And suddenly he was everywhere, tongue swiping over my clit in rapid motions, flicking against me in a way that had me immediately squeezing my thighs around his face, to which Spencer responded by pushing them apart, leaving me shaking.

“Oh god, Spencer. Oh-” I moan, over and over again, my hand gripping onto the strands of his hair. My eyes squeeze shut as I feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, my legs trembling more than ever.

“Spencer- I’m gonna-” I groan out, my grip tightening, and I look down, watching him devour me with so much precision and focus, the same I’d seen during his playing all night. I watched as his eyes met mine, his lips sucking around my clit and in a fit of moans, I found myself releasing all over his tongue, my body shuddering as he worked me through my orgasm, moaning against my core.

He rose from his knees and planted a long, deep kiss on my lips, and I moaned as I tasted myself on him. My hands started to go for his belt, desperate to feel this man inside me. As soon as his cock was freed from the confines of his briefs, I guided him towards my entrance, gasping as I felt him push into me, immediately filling me up. I breathed in sharply from the pleasure of the sensation, my eyes screwing shut before opening them to see his eyes staring back at me. He gave me a moment to adjust, watching my face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, only the carnal desperation I felt for this man. I nodded to let him know I was ready, and suddenly, like a man possessed, he began to jut his hips towards mine, causing me to whimper and dig my nails into his back.

He moaned as he slammed into me, over and over again, while his mouth kissed at my neck, at my jaw, my lips, murmuring my praises over and over again.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans, my hips firmly gripped by his large hands, keeping me from slipping off the counter. “And that dress. Fuck. God, I want you.”

I nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to even speak, rather opting to moan his name and nod furiously.

He kept one hand on my hip, while the other trailed down to where we were joined, and began to rub fast, hard circles over my already sensitive bud, the action causing me to gasp out and open my eyes, letting him know that my second release of the night was inevitable.

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low and his fingers diligent on my clit.

“Please,” I sob out, my voice breaking with just how much I needed this right now. How much I needed him.

“Come for me.” He murmurs, and as if under a spell, I do, coming undone rapidly in his grasp, my head falling against his shoulder as he continues the movement of his hips until I feel him still, and then spill into me, his breath heavy and chest heaving.

I pull back, my forehead meeting his as he stares at me in a bit of a trance, our breaths mingling as we both came down from what had just happened.

“I think.. you should probably cover up.. after that.” He murmurs, grinning a bit at the wide array of marks he’d just left on my neck and chest, undeniably exposing us.

“Right you are.” I giggle back, leaning in for another kiss. This time sweeter, softer.

I was definitely wearing this dress again for him.

hello!! oh my god!! it has been so long since i've posted a fic. finals are over! i am free! i promise we will be back to a more normal schedule now (can i do weekly fics? who knows. i'll try). as usual, thank you for any and all reblogs, likes and comments. it's been a long time since i've even thought about writing, so i hope this is up to everyone's standards. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins office party challenge. so, you know. look at the other fics there too! sorry for clearly not knowing anything about card games. also also, just a fun fact. i envisioned readers dress being meredith grey's prom dress from s2ep27.. hehe. okay, i've already talked enough. thank you thank you thank you for reading and supporting!!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

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aerithmybbgmypookiemywife · 1 month

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Genshin SAGAU where GN! Reader reads a fanfic about them.

this is my first post bare with me pls, it isn't proof read pookie... i know this kind of idea has been done before but i just love it so...

Creator! Reader gets isekai'd into Tevyat. It didn't take long for you to be found by the Archons and be placed inside a heavily guarded palace in Liyue.

Creator! Reader who quickly gets bored of their palace, who wouldn't be bored when you're restriced to go outside or... Practically do anything!

Creator! Reader who soon notices a book on the ground, you picked it up and it was... A fanfic about the creator...? It was titled 'The creator and I's forbidden love: Star crossed lovers unable to love each other due to fate. Will we continue our love or will it all break apart?' Wow... That's a long ass title. It was a story about you, the creator, and a human. The human had no name, probably for immersion for whoever is reading it.

It sure was... Interesting to say the least... You were... Characterized as this brave, kind, and absolutely perfect character who fell in love with a Human... The Human was... Okay to say the least, the human's personality wasn't your type but whatever you let it slide since this was just a fanfic.

You were about to stop reading but you soon got to the spicy part... "WAIT WE DO IT IN A CAVE...?!" You gasped in disbelief, the smut was actually well written, and it inflated your ego that you were written as the Dom one in the relationship.

Creator! Reader who soon gets immersed into the book and loses track of time. You binged read that 1000 paged book, and you enjoyed it. It made you feel all giddy and curious to what other fanfics about you are out there.

Creator! Reader who brings it up on a meeting with the Archons. By Archons... It was Nahida, Venti, Zhongli, and Raiden Ei. Neuvillete wasn't exactly the Archon... The other two also were absent due to some conflicts.

"Oh right! I read this book titled... Hmm.. What was it again...? The creator and I's forbidden love: Star crossed lovers unable to love each other due to fate. Will we continue our love or will it all break apart?, have you guys read it before?" you asked, everyone except Nahida stiffened at the mention of the first words of the title.

"Is that the book Miko gave me...?" Raiden Ei mumbled. "Oh! Is that-" Nahida was cut off by Venti, "Your Grace..." he clears his throat, "I don't think that's a famous book so we are unaware of it... Do you like it?" he added. Everyone soon stared at you, anticipating an answer.

"Hmm... Well it's interesting... Maybe even correct in some parts." you replied. Correct in some parts...?? Where..?? Which one...?! What scene?! The smut?? The kiss?? How the author envisioned the creator being inlove?! WHICH ONE??

Those were the questions popping up in their heads, well... Except Nahida. "Your Grace, if you don't mind me asking... Which part is true?" Venti asked, Zhongli cut in before you could utter another word. "That question is out of line." He spoke out, even though he was... Also curious... he felt it was a rude question to you. You only laughed it off, not giving him a proper answer.

News spread like wild fire...! The creator likes that book...?! Oh expect it to be sold out and be treated as some sort of sacred religious text or something!

#sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #self aware genshin #genshin x reader

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ittsybittsybunny · 2 months

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ATLA Live Action Series Review:

The Good

Aesthetically this show felt right. Sure sometimes the outfits didn't quite feel lived in, but I always felt like I was watching a fantasy world with decent effects and interesting design. Also, I really enjoyed the sets!

Bending: Yes some of the fights feel very quick, but the bending looks cool. It is certainly better than 10 benders lifting one big rock. I can honestly say the opening bending fight scene gave me so much hope for this show.

Kyoshi Warriors: I loved seeing them in live action, and I thought Suki's performance was great!

Omashu: I think the mashup of the mechanist made sense since that is an important character overall and I would hate to see him cut. However, both Jet & the secret tunnels felt sloppily thrown in.

Northern Water Tribe: I really loved the way it looked, and appreciated the two episodes we spent here. I think Yue gained more agency in this interpretation, and why shouldn't the moon spirit be a waterbender. Also, episode seven felt the most in tune with the original show's spirit.

Zuko: I think he was one of the most fleshed-out and best parts of the show! Dallas Liu really captured Zuko's spirit, and the scene between him and Aang in episode 6 was wonderful!

Soundtrack: Hearing the original soundtrack bits is always great, and when I first heard the ending music I was so excited.

Is the show perfect, no - but I wouldn't mind a season 2.

The Bad

Pacing: Turning 20 episodes into 8 was bound to lead to some cuts...but oftentimes times things felt too quick or disjointed. I think there were editing problems contributing to this for sure, but sometimes things skipped around too much without a clear purpose as to why. Also, why bring in plots from later seasons when you barely have enough time already?

Writing: This show definitely suffered from exposition dumping, though it did get better as time went on. I think the biggest example of this is actually opening in the past rather than the present. We do not get to learn along with Aang that the world has changed, instead, we get to learn that 100 years have passed....which doesn't hold the same tension or worldbuilding.

Clunky Dialogue: Along with exposition, clunky dialogue is another example of bad writing. I think sometimes I felt like the acting was kind of meh in the beginning, but then over time I began to realize it had far more to do with the lines characters were trying to deliver. The actors themselves are not bad, just cursed with awkward writing and lines that feel out of touch with the setting they're in.

Main Trio: I don't entirely know that I believe Katara, Sokka, and Aang are friends as opposed to 3 people stuck together to save the world. Aang feels a little too somber for a young kid running away from his responsibilities, Sokka is protective, but not exactly the heart of the team, and Katara is sort of just there until the last two episodes. Where is her struggle, her desire to learn so strong she steals from pirates? Also, while Gordon Cormier did a great job, Aang does zero waterbending on his own, is overly serious, and tells Katara not to fight. Where is his desperation to protect his friends? It feels like they all lost emotional depth.

Tension: Bringing Ozai, Azula, and Zhao out in the beginning immediately causes us to lose the realization there is an even bigger bad. Part of why Ozai is so terrifying is he is a primarily silent villain until the third season when we finally see the face of the "big bad evil guy" behind it all. Yes, they add to Zuko's backstory, but again, they are revealing the villains too early. Azula is the antagonist of season 2 and one of my favorite characters, so I hope they do more with her in the future. Finally, Zhao is supposed to be an example of the uncontrollable nature of fire unrestrained, instead, he comes off as vaguely threatening with the supposed true power being Azula.

Characterization: While all characters are bound to lose something in a shorter show, it still felt like certain characters were more mutilated than others. I am sure there are 100 different opinions on who, but I think the biggest victim was Katara.

Katara: Katara manages to go from a complete novice to a bending master in what feels like a matter of days. The journey feels short, and that makes the results feel largely unearned. Katara is one of the strongest personalities in the show, determined, kind, and fiery. In many ways, she is the unpredictability of water - equally dangerous as it is necessary to live. She is the child of a war who lost her mother, forced to grow up too soon, and even raised her older brother. Yes, Katara often gets stereotyped as the mom friend, but overall she feels underutilized in this show. We really don't see enough of her journey until the very end.

Iroh: Iroh was always comedic but most importantly wise. Even when Zuko is trying to give himself advice, he mimics Iroh. Instead, he seems to be used more as comedic relief without the underlying experience. He just doesn't feel right. Also, he kills Zhao instead of Zhao getting himself killed - which is less about Iroh and more about the writing than anything.

Ozai is weirdly a little too nice. Yes, he burned Zuko and pits his kids against each other, but he feels toned down in a show claiming to be more mature than the original cartoon.

Azula is perhaps more realistically worried about losing her status as the golden child, but she is also missing the cruelty she and her father share. I understand worrying about making your character cartoonishly evil, but the Fire Nation is currently a deeply nationalistic empire trying to control the world. Where is the deep-seated belief that they are better than other people, not just trying to bring balance to the world? There is a line between creating complexity and toning down the very real evil inherent in this plan.

Roku: I can only say what the fuck was that. He was barely there, and not the serious master to Aang's youthful exuberance.

The Ugly

Show, Don't Tell: The show's single biggest issue seems to be speeding through story parts by simply stating things. Instead of allowing the audience to discover, trusting that we are smart enough to understand, let's just blatantly say things like Zuko is the only reason the 41st division is alive to their faces. Even though in the context of the story Ozai literally already said that.... it's the division, the division for Zuko, Zuko's division.

Thematic Misunderstandings: I think this show makes several minor changes with major implications, such as airbenders actively fighting the firebenders, when airbenders are known for their pacifist nature and the lie of an Airbender fighting force is actively propaganda. Similarly, Aang very quickly accepts his role as the avatar and doesn't even run away in the beginning. Without this conflict between his desire to be a carefree child and the fact that the world needs him - the show loses a key aspect of Aang's character. Also, the obsession with downplaying the avatar state as something dangerous feels like a disservice to the tradition, connection, and strength of the avatar, which can be permanently destroyed as the trade-off for that kind of power. It's dangerous for the balance of the entire world, not just because it's powerful!

The Agni Kai: Zuko's fight against his father is one of the defining moments of Ozai's cruelty, not just because he is willing to fight his child, but because Zuko tried to do everything right. Zuko shows deference to his father, apologizes, and most importantly refuses to fight! The determination not to upset his father and still be grievously injured and banished is a hugely important theme for the fire nation and Zuko's life as a whole. He tries to do everything he is supposed to and only regains his father's acceptance after he "kills" Aang. Zuko's struggle between moral vs. social right and wrong in contrast to his family is hugely important to his character.

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TLDR: ATLA was a fantastical animated television show that was never afraid to show character development and flaws. When you turn 20 episodes into 8, you are bound to lose something. You hollowed out the middle, leaving the shell of important moments and events without ever wondering if all the times in between formed the true spirit of the show.

Rating: 6.5/10 It's perfectly fine and worth a watch. Not a disaster, but certainly falls flat of the original.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender tv #atla tv #spoilers #natla #i loved it i hated it i mostly sat through it #i would like a season 2 though #aang #katara #sokka #zuko #iroh #uncle iroh #azula #ozai

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thef1diary · 2 months

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Little Big Fan | Ten

— Little Big Date Night

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.9k

If you could characterize Max in a single word, it would be "perfect." Although it may be argued that everyone has flaws, you would also consider his imperfections to be perfect as well.

From the day you two met until now and possibly even beyond, your life has changed so drastically that you can't remember how you used to spend your days without Max. He was a welcomed friend, and after tonight, he is even more than a friend.

You couldn't help but admire him as he sat in front of you, trying to contain his energetic hand gestures to a minimum while speaking to you. You wanted to interrupt and tell him how much you liked that particular trait of his, but that would require him to drop your hands, and you quite frankly enjoyed the warmth his hands exuded.

As promised, Max took you out on a date as soon as he returned from the race. If it were up to him, he would've planned to go out on the same night, but you convinced him for the day after, especially as you needed a babysitter for Isabella.

Speaking of, your daughter was currently at home with your best friend, who had quickly become a lifesaver offering to keep Isabella company while you spent the evening out with Max.

You couldn't consider dropping Isabella off at Tyler's, not after what she told you, so you decided to call your friend. Fortunately, her response was, "of course I can! Go get a boyfriend already,"

Since your actual first date didn't go as planned, you decided to wear the red dress that you put away last time in hopes of gaining some luck. Max, ever the gentleman, had crossed off every point in your mental checklist for a first date.

From standing at your front door suited up and carrying a bouquet of flowers—specifically sunflowers—to making you grin and laugh throughout the evening, Max was doing all the right things.

You were slightly nervous about tonight, yet there was nothing to be worried about. Not after you'd calmed down and realized that this date felt just like the way you usually spent time with Max, albeit a little fancier.

Although you kept your wine intake to a minimum, you still felt the buzzing energy running through you, but perhaps that was all due to his presence.

Soon, dinner was over but you weren't ready for the night to end just yet. As Max drove out of the parking lot, you turned to him with a smile creeping up your face as you thought of an idea.

"Do you wanna stop by the beach that we passed on the way here?" You asked, and he raised his eyebrow in question, "at night?"

You shrugged, "why not? Less people," you managed to convince him. "I'm glad you thought of something because I didn't want to drop you home just yet," he grabbed your hand, bringing the entwined fingers up to place a kiss on the back of your hand.

He didn't let go of your hand until he parked—possibly illegally—near the beach. You checked your phone for any notifications specifically from your friend, but there weren't any new messages. Choosing to leave your phone in the car, you quickly stepped out and rushed towards the sand with a small laugh leaving your mouth.

You walked until the edge of the pavement, looking down at your heels then at the sand.

Max, catching up behind you after he took an extra moment to leave his blazer in the car, chuckled once he saw your rather amusing dilemma. "Don't laugh," you muttered halfheartedly.

You reached down and slightly lifted your foot to the side at the same time to remove your heels, but Max stopped you. "Let me," he suggested, kneeling down and undoing the straps on your heels. Brushing your hand through his hair with a smile on your face, you commented, "you're too kind."

"You deserve it," he looked up at you for a moment, the wrinkles deepening on the corner of his eyes as he smiled.

Once your heels were off, Max held them in one hand while his other hand held yours. The way your palm fit against his so naturally, fingers entwined, it felt like an old habit which you weren't opposed to at all. You leaned closer to him, while watching the waves crashing against the shore further away.

A breeze passed through your hair, harshly increasing as you neared the water. You mentally thanked your past self for choosing a matte lipstick instead of a gloss otherwise your hair would've been stuck to your lips, making a mess.

Once you were closer to the waves of water, it submerged your feet every once in a while as you walked along the length of the beach.

"This is so peaceful," Max commented, making you hum in agreement. "There's no one else here," you added. While Max's gaze was focused on you, he didn't notice how you mischievously walked closer to the water, bringing him along since your hands were still clasped together.

That was until you reached down when he briefly looked away and splashed some water towards him. Startled, Max took a few steps back, dropping your hand while your laughter rang in the open air. He watched you with an unhappy expression but it quickly turned into a look of amusement as he chuckled. "You have no idea what you just started, darling."

As he reached for you, you quickly stepped away and raised your brow, "oh yeah, what's that?"

"War," he responded cheekily, catching you off guard for a moment that was enough time to return the favour. "Max!" You exclaimed, brushing the few wet strands of your hair out of your face.

You chased him, each step ruining the silence of the night with the sound of splashing water. "C'mon, you have to be faster than that," Max turned to face you but still kept running further away.

"Fuck!" You shrieked, landing flat on your ass right at the same time as a wave crashed over the drying sand. Max instantly stopped in his tracks, his look of amusement quickly turning into worry as he saw you clutching your foot.

"Are you okay?" He neared you, crouching down when you shook your head. "It hurts," you mutter.

"What hurts?" He reached out to touch your ankle which he assumed was the issue, but with the incoming wave, you used your entire arm to bring a larger splash onto him. "Your ego I assume," you responded, throwing your head back with a laugh as you saw the defeated look on his face.

"I really fell for that huh?" He asked, mainly to himself as you stood up without any actual injuries. "Never wager a war against me, sweetheart, I'll always win."

Max pulled you back down, right onto his lap with a hand resting on your lower back, "I've got to say, that was clever but you won't always win." You rested your arms on his shoulders, "we'll see."

You still had a mischievous glint in your eyes but it quickly dissipated and was replaced with admiration once you noticed the way Max looked at you. From direct eye contact, his gaze moved to focus on different parts of your face, as if he wanted to memorize every inch.

You knew the exact moment he noticed the scar underneath your chin from a childhood injury, as well as the faint freckles that only seem to darken in sunlight.

Underneath the moonlit night, with the sounds of the waves calming down, all you could focus on was your heartbeat picking up with both nervousness and excitement.

His intense gaze should’ve made you want to look away, to make you want to squirm until he stopped looking, but you had never felt as seen as you did now, and quite frankly you enjoyed the attention.

Max’s other hand found its way to your cheek, fingers grazing with a featherlight touch. "I am so glad that I met you," he muttered, fingers moving down to your chin slightly pulling you even closer.

You held the eye contact with him when you spoke, "me too," proving that there was nothing but truth behind your words. Your eyes only fluttered closed when you felt his lips grazing yours, barely millimetres away.

"Kiss me," you mumbled against his lips and as soon as he registered those words in his mind, he pressed his lips against yours completely.

Even though you knew it was coming, your breath stuttered once his lips were on yours, pressing so gently yet so full of want. Your hand wandered into his hair, a way to bring him even closer while the other settled on the nape of his neck.

Then he parted away slightly, inhaling as his half-lidded eyes studied your expressions intently. Your palms touched his cheeks, knowing you needed more now that you'd gotten a taste of what else was possible. It took two seconds for your lips to crash against his, this time with greater urgency and intense yearning.

He responded with just as much energy, not rushed at all but filled with passion. His tongue parts your lips and you welcomed the intrusion gladly. Your hands slid down to his chest and if you didn’t feel the pulse of your own heart beating all the way down to your fingertips, you would’ve felt his beating just as fast underneath your palm.

You genuinely didn’t believe that you could want someone to the point where you’d happily sacrifice your breaths to be kissed like this, not until Max.

You didn't appear to be the only one losing track of your surroundings, since as soon as Max leaned back in an invitation to hold you closer on his lap, his hand slipped in the sand. Taking you with him, you both landed on the floor, though your fall was softer than his.

The look of shock quickly turned into laughter, both of you realizing how incredibly lost you were in each other. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I think we should dry off now,” you muttered against his neck, your actions contradicting your words.

Leaning back on his elbows, he nodded, “we should.” Standing up, you returned to his car but with the sand and water covering your outfits, you couldn’t possibly sit inside.

Instead, you sat on the hood of the car, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “It’s so beautiful,” you commented, noticing the twinkling stars shining down upon you. “It is,” Max replied although his gaze was on you rather than the stars.

You turned to look at him, a chuckle bubbling up, “such a sap,” you muttered before he joined you on the hood. “You like it,” he retorted, and you resorted to watching the sky again because he wasn’t wrong.

Shuffling closer to him, you rested your head on his chest while absentmindedly tracing patterns with your fingers. One of his arms was folded back behind his head while the other wrapped around you, keeping you as close to him as possible.

“You know we won’t dry if we stay like this, right?” You asked or rather hummed. “We can spare a few extra minutes if it means you’ll stay right here with me.”

You smiled, “I’ll always be right here with you.”

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#max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fluff #f1blr #f1 x reader #thef1diary fic #little big fan fic

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pedgito · 3 months

Text

𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄

summary | you're his best-friend's daughter and he's at a party he can't be bothered to care about, luckily you're the one thing that catches his attention. [5k]

pairing | lucien flores x fem!reader (best-friend's daughter!reader and/or alternatively, dad's best friend!lucien)

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, age gap (not specified, but it's girthy) smoking, semi-public sex, daddy kink, f!oral, unprotected piv, light choking, mentions of reader having hair that can be grabbed (to some degree), lucien is a major dilf and divorced, if i missed anything lmk!

author’s note | so, we know next to nothing about lucien but i have been sitting with this idea in my head and i wrote it. sue me. characterization could be completely off by the time the movie comes out but let's just enjoy the pwp and be hornknee, xoxo. also i hc that lucien does use some spanish. it's very minimal but it's there!

Lucien couldn’t give anyone a valid reason why he was here. Unwelcome and well, uninvited. At least, by the people who owned the house—his ex-wife and her new husband who referred to him as a leech who liked to mooch off the enjoyment of others because really, who was he to turn down an invite? He had a few close mutual friends who insisted that he be there, demanded it, even. He was personable enough, he could charm anyone, the other party-goers and it wouldn’t disrupt a damn thing.

Until he spots you.

He knows you from a distance—polite looks, short greeting and small talk, it never stretches beyond that. Maybe a few one off dinners here and there. You were his friend's daughter—best friend, but that didn’t matter.

And you know him well enough—through stories from your dad and pictures sent while he was away on vacation or work. He had a certain…aura to him that felt charged, overwhelming, and it provoked you to keep a distance when he was around. A charming smile and a wink in your direction never fails to make you weak in the knees and you know there’s no meaning behind, but it never fails to make you throb, something deep and primal in your gut.

You were half his age and clueless—he’s well-beyond your years, more experienced. In all aspects of life, but he can’t be that oblivious to the effect he has on you. Not within the handful of years he’s gotten to know you.

It’s the first time he’s seen you since you graduated college, a bright smile on your face as you sip on the flute of champagne in your hand, conversing lightly as he pops a cheese cube into his mouth, taking the freshly opened beer from your father and turning in the direction of the masses, sipping greedily as he leaned against the counter.

And given you’re a few glasses in, you feel a gentle buzz in your head that has you smiling when you set eyes on him.

Lucien was fine to remain unassuming all night, but the moment your eyes track him he’s perking up. Subtly, but you arms are outstretched as you approach him and he pulls you in like it was a regular greeting,

It wasn’t. Hardly at all.

Rough palms over warm skin, large and dexterous fingers pressing into your shoulder blades as you bury your face into his chest, the cold press of a chain against your temple. He says your name softly, a kind greeting as you smile into his chest and whisper his name in return.

When you pull back, he’s flashing a quick wink. Something he has done a million times before, but it feels electric, and maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but you feel his fingers lingering against your skin before your father is cutting in—

“Told you he’d show up.” He speaks indifferently, outing your obvious want and hopefulness for him to show up—which yeah, you perked up at the mention of it being a possibility. But, you didn’t expect your father to throw it back in your face. You grumble something low and Lucien can’t help but smile, cheek dimpling on one side like it always did—a sign of a true and genuine smile.

“Missin’ me, are you?” Lucien teases, watching as you crossed your arms over your chest in frustration, ignoring his question. “That’s…sweet.”

Your eyes roll slightly, watching as your father melted away easily into the crowd, knowing he’d disturbed the peace and left you to clean up the mess. Not that you minded, but it didn’t help that Lucien had your body riddled with nerves, noticing the way he clocked every single movement—even the most subtle.

You kept rubbing at a spot behind your ear, uncomfortable with the crowd as you shifted from foot to foot and Lucien took note, tapping your elbow as he nodded toward the back door.

And you nearly talk yourself out of it, but he’s flashing that sweet smile your way and it’s hypnotic, feet moving before you can deny him the opportunity.

Luckily, the backyard was empty and that provided some peace. And privacy, at the very least.

You follow Lucien silently, feet shifting against the gravel as you follow him around to the side of the house, noting as he looks around curiously—he’s never been here either, clearly. He chews at his lip and nods again before finding a quiet spot, leaning against the side of the house, solid cement pressing into his back as he reaches into the pocket of his jeans to retrieve a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“So, college?” He asks idly, struggling slightly as he opens the fresh pack. Lucien knew enough about you, through small talk with you and your father and he seemed genuinely interested, like he wanted you to elaborate, so you did.

“Just graduated,” You tell him honestly, fiddling with a thin, decorative bow on your sleeve, complimenting the intricate flowery design of your dress, flowy and trimmed high at your thigh, a muted yellow that he knows is your favorite color, “how’s business—you know, with my dad and everything?”

Which you couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about, but Lucien appreciates the gestures and chuckles, cigarette slipping between his lips as flicks open the lighter and burns the end of the cigarette until it flashes a deep amber before stowing away the pack and lighter into his pocket.

“Good,” He says gruffly through a deep inhale, exhaling jaggedly as he offers you the cigarette hesitantly, eyebrow raised in question, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your dad.”

You shoot him a look of annoyance, nose scrunching up as you pluck the cigarette from his fingers. You’ve never smoked a day in your life, but he didn’t need to know that.

He did. But, it doesn’t stop him from letting you take a puff, struggling to hide the grimace as you pass it back.

“I’m not seventeen anymore,” You retort flippantly, “It’s been, like, eight years. You can drop that already.”

Lucien huffs out a short breath through his nose as his eyes track the ground, puffing at the cigarette robotically, moving through the motions as he flicks the ash away.

You notice his change in demeanor, subtle but there.

“What?” You ask curiously, a tinge of amusement in your tone as you tilt your head to meet his eyes, hands resting loosely against your hips as you leaned against an opposing half-wall, ass hitting the edge as you backed into it. “If you have something to say just say it. You never have a problem making fun of me any other time.”

“Not makin’ fun,” He responds calmly, shaking his head—he puffs a few more times before the cigarette sits lonely between his index and middle at his side, “I know you’re not a kid anymore, that’s pretty damn obvious.”

Your chest rattles with a gentle laugh, feeling slightly relaxed now that he didn’t throw another easy jab your way, but you feel the heated implication behind his tone, the way his eyes drag along your body but he doesn’t act—he wouldn’t, right?

He seems fearful, hesitant. So, you play into it.

“What gave it away?” You tease. “I mean, I would flash off my degree but I don’t have that with me.”

Your arms cross over your chest again, tighter this time as your breasts shift obviously, nearly spilling out of the top of your dress and Lucien swallows with irritation, throat burning with the sting of nicotine but also a deep, deep want for…something.

He thinks, has a line locked and loaded in his head but he decides against it, laughing at the absurdity and knowing you would laugh about it too. But, the quiet chuckle and lack of response has you pressing him. You take a few steps forward, still a comfortable distance but he follows it, eyes tracking and following the line of your body as you question him.

“What?” You ask, “What's so funny?”

Lucien wants to bite his tongue, but he can’t resist.

“Just, uh—“ He shakes his head abashedly, a grin breaking out on his face, “was gonna suggest you flash somethin’ else but that’s—it’s stupid. Just a joke, that’s—“

And you hate how he’s looking at you now.

It’s desire—insatiable and needy and he blindly stubs out the cigarette into the wall behind him before he’s discarding it on the ground.

Fuck it, you’ll bite.

“Tell me,” You urge, “tell me what you wanna see.”

He releases a shaky breath, a small cloud of smoke passing his lips as he turns his head away and you take the chance to invade his space completely, fingers running along the outside of his now empty hand, guiding it along your hip slowly—he follows the movement intently as you speak, “I’ll listen, I swear.”

His hand squeezes gently at your hip, the gradual guide toward your breasts nearly killing him before he’s finally speaking, “Your tits,” He breathes, thumb brushing over a clothed nipple, hardened under the fabric and he can feel it, knowing it’s the only layer that’s keeping him from a bare touch of your skin, “show me.”

And it should worry you that you’re only a few feet from the back door, but you weren’t worried—these types of people, they never lingered outside. They chain smoked and filled the house with a haze, the house littered with empty cans of booze and idle chit chat. The low hum was a comforting ambience, a reminder that you had each other to yourself.

You anticipated the feeling of being riddled with nerves, but his words spark a surge of pride through you, seeing how he gives into your plea to command—you want him to want it too, to demand it. You bite your bottom lip through a smile that has him cracking one similar, looking around briefly before you’re pulling the straps of your dress down in unison, his fingers cautiously catching the falling fabric as he helps keep your dress just under the valley of your breasts, allow the wide expanse of his hands to cup the soft tissue, your fingers curling around his own as he squeezes and admires in awe, bottom lip parted and wet from his tongue peeking out to soothe his chapped skin.

“Fuck, they’re—“

You cut him off with a snarky comment, “Just like you imagined?” You smirk subtly, catching the guilty look he flashes at you, eyes admiring as he flicks a thumb over the nipple of your left breast, the other one squeezed gently in his hand. Your pussy throbs between your thighs and it makes your heart swell, the soft groan he releases as he watches the skin pebble and goosebump under his touch. “It’s okay, I know you’ve thought about it.”

It’s not right. It never was. But, you’ve caught him red-handed. He nods slightly, a quick jerk of his head that you would miss if you weren’t locked on his face, mouth falling open in a soft sigh as his thumb and index finger pull and twist at your nipple, experimenting with your reaction. “Better than I imagined, if that’s possible.” He admits wholeheartedly, before his hands are leaving your breasts and curling around the back of your thighs, carrying you the short distance to the perch on the half-wall, resting your ass against the cold slab of concrete before his mouth is assailing your breasts without warning, fingers fisting into his beautiful and messy coiffed curls, full of product and smelling faintly of citrus—he groans, his wide tongue flattening over the skin before he’s sucking a pert nipple into his mouth.

You gasp sharply, palm slapping into the concrete at the sudden shot of pleasure it strikes to you core, knowing you were soaking through your panties with every passing second and his free hand was only a few inches away, lingering against your thigh as he squeezes, blunt nails digging into the skin as you mumbled mindlessly.

“Please,” You whine softly, “please—“

You’re not sure what you’re asking for, but Lucien feels the charge, the want you crave with his demanding nature and he pulls away briefly, hands leaving the other parts of your body to attach to your face, cradling your head momentarily as he examines your face, the slow drag of your teeth over your bottom lip as you dare to keep the eye contact, a glint of feral desire in your eye.

“Have you ever had your pussy eaten before?” Lucien asks boldly, point-blank as you shake your head. “Good.”

He backs away briefly, allowing you to rush to remove your panties, no words to be spoken to tell you to do so—you were more than eager, ready to toss them to the ground before he’s stuffing them in the loose pocket of his silk button up.

And really, you could find a million reasons to complain right now. Knowing there was a house full of people just inside, that you were ruining your dress with the patch of dirt against the edge of your ass or how it was going to get under your fingernails as your hands squeezed into the soil as he settled between your legs, crouching until his face is right in line with your pussy, bare and glistening in his face and he swears he’s never seen anything more mesmerizing—says it too.

It has your stomach doing flips, his fist bunching into the fabric of your dress as he pushes it up and away, eyes slanting up to look at your as he nudges your thighs apart, resting one gently over his shoulder for support as he gives a teasing, testing lick between your lips.

You sigh shakily, leaning back on your palms but keep your chin against your chest, watching as Lucien kept his eyes locked on you while his tongue traced along your seam, sucking testingly at your clit and that draws a ragged gasp out, which is rewarded with a big grin and a small chuckle, “Oh fuck,” You say on a punched-out breath, “fuck that’s so—“

“Language, nena,” Lucien chastises and you almost lose your grip on reality, reeling at how easily he can assert himself, “don’t need your daddy hearing all that, right?”

Not the fucking time, you think. A hand fists into his hair, pulling roughly as he ups the pace, tongue lapping you up greedily, swirling around your quickly swelling clit with a precision that takes years of practice to master—and you’re sure he’s had plenty, but then he’s piping up again and it has your breath catch in your throat.

“Not—not the time,” You gasp, “fuck—Luc, oh my god—“

He pulls back suddenly, chin gripped between his fingers as he speaks, smothering and far too close than he needs.

“Unless you need me to play daddy for you,” He challenges, “keep that dirty mouth in check, amorcito.”

You whine slightly, both from the tinge of pain and the implication of him labeling himself like that. So boldly and unashamed. You can’t help but give him what he craves.

You nod quickly, “O-okay,” You respond softly, earning a gentle tug of warning as he waits, “Yeah—yes, daddy.”

Lucien grins devilishly, a quick decent as he resumes his previous actions with no blip, mouth attaching to your pussy with ease and falling back easily into the motion, devouring you with a fervor that consumes you, arms nearly collapsing out underneath you as he dares to slip a finger in with his greedy tongue, biting your lip until you taste that faintness of copper, desperate to muffle the sounds as he sucks at your clit until you’re begging to come, words teetering on your tongue as you feel a swell of boldness fill your chest, guiding his face against your pussy in a way that Lucien can only describes as needy, giving you some credit as you give into your own pleasure so easily, unashamed at how badly you want to come—even without asking.

“Hu—oh, don’t—don’t stop—I’m gonna cum.” You plead, soft but desperate, his tongue swirling rapid, messy circles against your clit that forces your orgasm to creep up on you, body buzzing with electricity as it builds and explodes, releasing a tired sigh as you collapse onto your back, “—oh my god.”

Lucien rises with a slight grimace, aging knees not too appreciative of his current position, his hands engulfing your forearms as he pulls you sturdily upright. And you could stop here, go back inside, pretend nothing happened, and see each other a few years from now.

But, neither of you want that.

Lucien cradles your face once more, slow creeping movements as his fingers curl behind your ears and cradle your head gently, eyes shifting between your wide eyes and slightly parted lips, swollen from being assaulted by your own teeth, biting and chewing away nervously. He soothes the skin with a touch, the pad of his thumb swiping over it gently before he’s following up with his lips, kissing you gently. Silently.

He didn’t ask and you didn’t want him to.

“What do you say, nena?” He asks teasingly, “Want me to fuck you?”

“Right here?” You whisper against his lips, sounding scandalized despite what’s already progressed within the last several minutes.

Lucien soothes your worries with another kiss, deep and desperate as he tongue licks into your mouth.

“Let me take care of you,” He pleads softly, feeling the way your fingers grip into the fabric at his shoulders, “fuck, you’re so tense, nena.”

You breath softly, a small exhale that Lucien clocks and soothes, “Let daddy take care of you,” He teases sweetly, hearing the sharp intake of breath you take as his nose nudges at the sensitive spot behind your ear, his teeth following the touch and biting gently, “go on, ask for it.”

You nod lazily, moaning softly as he mouths at your neck. “Do it,” You command gingerly, and Lucien’s hands squeeze at your skin, the fingers on one hand gripping tightly at your shoulder—“daddy, please?”

He runs the back of his fingers down your chest, through the valley of your breasts and your thumb rubs at the small tattoo etched in the space between this thumb and index finger. It’s always been so prevalent, eyes spotting it whenever he scratched at his face or wiped at his mouth during one of the rare dinners you had with him and your father.

You hated how easy it was for you to notice and memorize the small things about him, stuff that shouldn’t mean anything but ended up meaning entirely too much—the faint trail of freckles that cover his chest, muffled by his tan skin but at this proximity, under the small spattering of chest hair, under the dangling of a few gold chains, you can spot them.

Allowing your movement to mimic his as your finger hooks into the material of his shirt, just over the highest, fastened button and he stops you, eyebrows furrowing. Thick fingers wrapping around your palm guide you down, your own fingers flexing against his stomach and Lucien wants to jump at the touch, the boldness you take on now as you pull him in, continuing your descent as you palm him impatient over his jeans, the uncomfortable stretch of the fabric apparent with the press of weight against your hand.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, voice a soft whisper–fearful someone may hear you.

Lucien shakes his head and you have the nerve to be frustrated, pulling your hand away hesitantly but his reflexes are too quick, fingers encircling your wrist as he pulls you into him, chest pressing into his, looking down at him slightly with your unfair height advantage.

“If you’re good, maybe,” He explains, “Can you be a good girl and listen, nena?”

You nod eagerly, using his shoulders for support as he guides you off the ledge before quickly spinning you until your stomach presses against the cold wall, his hands working to shift your dress up your hips, the entirety material bunched around your stomach and leaving you nearly naked, his body the only cover to someone who wanted to peek around the corner and catch an eyeful, his belt buckle jingling loudly behind you.

You almost turn—almost, but his hands are faster than you, wrapping gently around your neck, traveling up until he can cup your chin back and tilt your head back, looking up at him from an angle that stretches you uncomfortably, but the hot press of his cock against your ass soothes any discomfort, eyes squeezing shut as he rubs his middle finger over your clit testingly, gaging your sensitivity.

And clearly over-sensitive still, he chuckles.

“You come for me again and you can have whatever you want,” Lucien barters with you, canting his hips slightly to guide through your wetness from behind briefly, his hand hooking around the back of your thigh to lift it up, allowing for more room and leaving you, essentially, putty in his grip—pliable and moving where he guided you, “you want it inside of you, nena? Ask for it.”

“Luce, please,” You whine softly, a gentle squeeze at your throat as you open your eyes, slightly bleary from how tight you had them closed and he’s looking at you pointedly—right. He watches you take a short, shaky breath, “fuck—daddy, please?”

Lucien bucks his hips gradually, heart racing from the teasing glide of his cock through your folds, he could chastise you for speaking so crudely but the sweetness in your voice is enough to leave him satisfied, dropping your leg suddenly as he adjusts himself, slightly, pressing into you slowly, hand gripping his shaft as you gasped, the stretch of his thick cock more than you were used to and he sees it, feels it in the way you squeeze around him.

“De mierda,” He curses quietly, “used to fucking college boys, yeah?”

“Huh—a—a couple,” You admit, gritting your teeth slightly as he jerks his hips slightly, seating himself inside of you fully then, a collective groan leaving your lips, “but you’re so—”

Lucien chuckles darkly, burying his face into your neck, the burn of the stretch from the angle he has your head becoming more prevalent, but the way he mouths at your skin makes it easier to ignore, moving his hips slowly to allow to adjust, the soft jingle of his belt against the starchy denim in the back of your mind, “So what, nena?”

As if to prove a point, he pulls back suddenly, slamming back inside of you with force, ripping a strangled groan groan from your throat that he stifles with his palm, eyes connecting with yours in a warning, forehead pressing against the underside of his chin from the angle he has you. His hand grabs greedily at your backside, fingers digging into your cheek and guiding you back pointedly.

“B—big,” You answer brokenly, “so fucking big, daddy.”

You can feel the imprint of his smirk into your skin as he squeezes at your flesh, moaning freely into the guise of his hand, muffling your sounds as he fucks into you from behind, watching as you fail to keep your eyes open, falling deeper into your own mind as he reaches blindly for your arms, allowing him to lock them behind your back with his large hands encircling them easily.

“Look at me,” He breathes gruffly, the deep creases in his forehead showing with how hard he’s trying to hold himself together, his soft brown eyes darkened to near black as he admires you openly, mouth parted slightly, “baby, look at me.”

You force your eyes open despite your state, sobbing openly into his hand as he allows you some relief, guiding your head back down slowly but nearly wrapping himself around you as he sandwiches you between him and the wall, setting your hands free and pressing his own against the ledge in front of you, the other one gripping your hip harshly.

He’s mumbling something behind you, sounding wrecked beyond repair—some in english, some in spanish. His voice is heavier and slurry, small groans escaping when you squeeze him just a little too tight, “Cuidado, nena. Easy, easy,” He begs into your shoulder, “I can feel it, baby.”

“I wanna taste it,” You tell him suddenly, driven to near insanity by the thought of it, his heady taste on your tongue as he jerks himself into your mouth—and if this was only a one-time thing, you just couldn’t pass that up, “please?”

And fuck, he can’t say no to you.

He switches gears, fingers finding your clit and circling quickly, determined to bring you over the edge once more, before he can reach that point himself, following through on his promise to make you come again as it hits you suddenly, muffled into the hand that finds your mouth again, biting gently at the inside of his palm in an effort to stifle your moan, his movements going far past the point of over-stimulation and you swat him away, hearing his voice strained from behind you.

“On your knees, nena.” He directs and you move quickly, seeing the pained and pinched up look on his face as he grips his cock, glistening with your slick as he jerks himself in front of your face, gravel digging into your knees but you can’t be bothered to care, eagerly sticking out your tongue to feel the press of his tip against it.

“Good—good girl, look so fuckin’ sweet down on your knees.”

Your delicate fingers grip into the silk material of his shirt as he cradles the top of your head, fingers gripping into your hair roughly as he comes with a strangled groan, muffled through clenched teeth.

Thick spurts paint your tongue, your lips wrapping around his head briefly as you swirl your tongue around the head, determined to clean up whatever mess was left as you swallow it down, flashing your tongue in show as he loosens his grip on your hair, stumbling back slightly.

The aftermath is quiet, fumbling with clothes to redress yourself as you pull your straps back over your shoulder, adjusting the dress back over your hips and Lucien keeps a careful eye on you, tucking himself back into his briefs, jeans slipping back over his ass as he buckles the belt into place, noticing how you squeeze your thighs together instinctively, suddenly remembering where your missing garment had gone.

You start to reach for it but his hand covers the pocket, brow furrowed in a playful frustration as he swats your hand away, “Luce, I need those.” You insist, but he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Maybe I want an excuse to return them,” He admits, puffing out his shirt and smoothing the wrinkles, running a lazy hand through his tousled hair before giving you a quick one-over, assuming you didn’t want to stress the…fucked-out look you’re sure you sported, to some degree. A small hum slips from his lips as he nods toward the back door, “I’m gonna smoke another, if you wanna head inside.”

Less conspicuous, less obvious. Besides, he needed a minute to collect himself. Clearing his throat as he reached into his back pocket for the second time that night.

You leave quietly, a simple nod but a lingering touch as he fingers trail along your wrist as you leave, a definitive wink your way as he turns away, faint lighter flick in the distance.

You mold back into the small talk with ease, only catching him entering through the backdoor several minutes later, a faint blush to his cheeks from the sticky heat and you linger, selfishly.

And he’s hoping to blend in, avoid any and all conversation for the rest of the night—but there’s your father, hot on his heels as he sways a little on his feet, looking eager for conversation.

“How’s your kid doing?” He asks casually, “I’m sure she talked you head off about college.” There’s a subtle nod in your direction that makes you uncomfortable, shrinking slightly from the wall you rested against.

“Fine.” Lucien bites back his words, giving little away.

“I get it, college ain’t easy on us,” He replies, “But, I sure am proud of her.”

Lucien smiles slightly, a small huff of a laugh hidden behind pursed lips.

“Should be,” He agrees, “she’s something special.”

And if your heart doesn’t swell ten sizes then, it’s later. Wondering how he got your number as he sends a picture of the ruined panties he kept for himself, draped over his lap as he sends a short message.

Got a minute? Wanted to return these.

Fortunately for you, you had all the time in the world for Lucien.

#lucien flores #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedrostories #my writing

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