#so it’ll most likely be one of those two!

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - part 10 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii part ix part x part xi

part x (huddling for warmth)

The automatic doors hiss shut behind you, straining against the wind, and even though it’s cold enough inside the lobby to see your breath, you can’t help breathing a sigh of relief. “We made it.”

Tomura’s been leaning against you for most of the walk from the train section. If he’s relieved the same way you are, he’s shivering too much for it to show. “Did you think we wouldn’t?”

“No,” you admit. “We’d have been in trouble if the walk was longer, though. It got really cold out there.”

“It’s really cold in here,” Tomura mutters. “Are you sure they have the heat on?”

“They have to, for the pipes. It’s just not on very high.” In the time since you and Tomura left, the building’s gone from being wide awake to being on what you can only call life support. The elevator panel is dark, only some of the lights are on, and the only sound you can hear other than your breathing and Tomura’s is the howl of the wind. “Is it just me, or – uh –”

“This is fucking creepy,” Tomura agrees. “Like the start of a horror movie or something.”

You were split on how to feel about the situation – some part of you that never grew out of being in high school a little excited about being snowed in with the guy you like, the rest of you wondering how you’ll feel about that when neither of you have showered in a couple of days. What Tomura just said puts it in perspective. “You know how people are always really dumb at the start of a horror movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s not do any of that stuff.”

Tomura cracks a grin at that, and his lips split and bleed. “Sounds good.”

Not being horror-movie dumb starts with keeping away from the windows, because that’s where it’s coldest. It also starts with getting in contact with somebody who can help. Tomura has a friend who has chains on his truck and a snowplow he can attach to the front of it, but his friend lives all the way out of town, and it’ll be hours before he can make it in. Once Tomura’s gotten the ETA – sometime past midnight – the two of you set your phones aside to conserve battery. The power’s still on, for now, but you don’t want to be caught off-guard if it goes out.

“Now that we called for help, we have to stay put,” you say. “The people who go running off into the storm always die.”

“You couldn’t pay me enough to go out there again,” Tomura says. He’s shivering a little less now that you’ve cleared out of the lobby, with its open spaces and floor-to-ceiling glass doors. “What about food? Nobody I work with keeps snacks down there.”

“You couldn’t pay me to go down in the basement right now,” you say. “People up in my pod keep food around. And heat rises, so we should head up there anyway.”

You have to let go of Tomura to climb the stairs, which is when you realize just how long you’ve been holding onto him. You started out with your arm around his shoulders, but he’s taller than you are, and by the time you pull away, it’s slid down around his waist. The reasonable part of you is wondering why he didn’t tell you to let go sooner. The high-school part of you is deciding that guys’ waists are more attractive than you thought they were.

Neither of those parts of you are going to help you survive a horror movie, or being snowed in with the guy you like. You focus on finding food.

The head of the Acquisitions department keeps a stockpile of gourmet instant ramen in his office, and he’s always offering it to people. You don’t think he’ll mind if you steal two packages, and you can always apologize later. Add in water from the electric teakettle in the breakroom and some hot sauce and soy sauce packets you stole, and it’s a decent dinner. The two of you eat it huddled up in the waiting room outside the department heads’ offices, sitting in two uncomfortable chairs and ignoring the couch.

You’re not sure why you’re ignoring the couch. The two of you slept on the couch together at Toga’s movie night, albeit on opposite ends, and sitting there together when you’re wide awake and trying not to freeze is the smart thing to do. Even in your coats, it’s still cold in here, and you should try to conserve body heat. It makes sense. It all fits in with surviving a horror movie. You can’t get the words out of your mouth.

“Am I going crazy, or does it feel colder in here?” Tomura asks, after you’ve both set your empty containers of soup aside. “It’s colder.”

“Maybe because we ran out of soup.” You definitely felt warmer while you were trying not to burn your mouth. “I have hot chocolate packets at my desk. Or I guess we should probably make coffee –”

“If you mix hot chocolate and instant coffee, it’s like a mocha,” Tomura says. You blink. “Magne says so, anyway.”

Hot chocolate mix and instant coffee. “I’ll try anything once. I’ll be right back,” you start, and Tomura gets to his feet. “No, you should stay.”

“People in horror movies always split up, and that’s when they die,” Tomura says. “I’m coming with you.”

Whether it’s gotten colder or not, the lights have definitely gotten dimmer, and the air is still and moist. Tomura walks close enough to you that you keep bumping into him, and finally you put your arm around him to hopefully control the number of times you run into each other. You go to the break room first, since it’s furthest away, then stop by your desk for the hot chocolate mix. “My Secret Santa got me a hot chocolate bomb,” Tomura says as you walk back. “Have you ever had one of those?”

“No. They look fun, though,” you say. That’s why you got one for him. “Have you tried it yet?”

“Yeah. It was good.” Tomura’s carrying the instant coffee can and the cups you grabbed. He watches you over them. “Would you get something for somebody that you hadn’t tried to see if it was good?”

You get a weird hit of foreboding. “I mean, I think people usually just go off the list,” you say. You take three or four hot chocolate packets and stack them up on top of the coffee can and cups. “And I don’t think they try the stuff. Spinner didn’t try that limited-edition eyeshadow palette he got for Aiba, did he?”

“No.” Tomura snorts. “She still thinks it’s her boyfriend buying her the stuff. Can you believe that?”

“Yes,” you say. Then you think about Aiba’s boyfriend, who you run into at the copy machine every so often. “Wait, has he ever gotten her anything that wasn’t tea?”

“He only gets her stuff he likes,” Tomura says. You wouldn’t have expected him to be that tapped in to office gossip. “Don’t look surprised. There aren’t many of us down there and it echoes like crazy. I pick things up even when I don’t want to.”

“They’ve been together for a while, right?” you ask. Tomura nods. The two of you reach the waiting area and you lift the supplies out of his arms, then tap the electric teakettle to get it working again. “It’s kind of sad, then. That her coworker with a crush on her cares more about getting her what she likes than her boyfriend does.”

You realize Tomura’s staring at you. “Not that that’s a reason to break up or anything.”

“She edits all his YouTube videos for free,” Tomura says. “Not that that’s a reason to break up. Or anything. Stop looking at me.”

You return your attention to the hot-chocolate in a hurry. “I should send him to talk to you about this shit,” Tomura continues. He sits down on the couch. “Toga’s advice is always insane, and I don’t know anything.”

“I don’t know anything, either,” you say. “Except if you like someone, you should notice what they like instead of trying to get them to like the stuff you do.”

The teakettle clicks, and you pour water into each of the cups, stirring them one at a time. “Okay. Moment of truth. Does it taste like a mocha or not?”

Tomura takes his cup but doesn’t raise it to his lips. “Are you going to sit down or just stand there?”

There’s space next to him on the couch. You settle down into it before trying a sip of the doctored hot chocolate. “It’s – not bad. Not a mocha, but not bad.”

“Not as good as a hot chocolate bomb,” Tomura says. “You should try one sometime.”

So he liked it. You feel the familiar rush of triumph that’s come over you every time you’ve gotten positive feedback on a gift you’ve given him, even if it was indirect. Usually you’re not sitting next to him when it happens, though. Usually you’re not so close to him finding out. “Maybe I’ll put it on my Secret Santa list next year.”

The two of you drink in silence, and you come to the conclusion that Tomura’s right – it is getting colder in here. Even the hot chocolate, scalding when it went into the cups, can’t hold onto the heat for long. Without meaning to, you find yourself huddling closer to Tomura, your winter coat rustling awkwardly against his. Tomura drains his hot chocolate in one last swallow that must burn the hell out of his tongue, then turns to you. “Come here.”

You cough on your last sip. “What?”

“In movies. People always freeze to death because they don’t share body heat.” Tomura’s averting his eyes from yours again, his face flushed. He’s still wearing your hat. “Come here. And unzip your jacket.”

He’s unzipping his. You unzip yours, too. Tomura gestures for you to come closer, still averting his eyes, and once you’re within reach, he pulls you awkwardly in against his chest. With your jackets both unzipped, his body’s warmth is all too inviting. It only makes sense for you to settle closer. Tomura’s tense at first. As you relax into his arms, so does he.

You remember waking up at one end of Toga’s couch, remember how the first thought in your head was that you were at the wrong end. You were supposed to be at the same end as Tomura, wrapped up like this, because he hates the cold and you knew you’d be able to keep him warm. You wanted to be what he’d reach for first. Like you are right now. “Is this what you had in mind?”

“It’s close,” Tomura says. You’re wondering what else he could be after when his gloved hand finds yours, covering it completely. “We’re killing this horror-movie thing.”

“Unless there are monsters,” you say nonsensically. In your defense, he’s holding your hand. “If there are monsters, we’re in trouble.”

“We’ve still got it.” Tomura’s voice goes softer, losing just a hint of its harsh edge. You remember this from the movie night, too – remember that it wasn’t a sleep thing, remember that it was just a sign that he was comfortable, at ease. You’ve never seen him be that way without his friends nearby until now. “If you can protect me from Yamada and the stupid Grinch song, you can handle a few monsters.”

“Sure. I’ll just sing Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer until they lose their will to live,” you say, and Tomura laughs. You haven’t heard him laugh before, and your face flushes when you realize just how much you like the sound. “You’re right. Monsters have nothing on me.”

“On us,” Tomura corrects. His voice sounds calm, but his hand is shaking slightly where it covers yours. You shift your grip and lace your fingers through his. “We’ve got it.”

His hand settles in yours, steadying so quickly that it’s hard to believe it ever shook in the first place. You tuck it into place against your chest and let your head fall against Tomura’s shoulder. “Yeah. We do.”

<- part ix part xi ->

[savagewildnerness]

Last part of TVL!

There's so much I feel like cannot happen on TV... Do you think some of it can happen? I guess, to embrace whatever will be instead as new can be exciting too!

Epilogue:

Questions:

Book-Lestat sleeps 1929-84 (55 years), but he’s really out of action 1860-1984 (from when Claudia murders him.) 124 years… He was mortal 1760-1780 then had pretty much 80 years of vampiric existence… really… when he awakens in 1984, although he is 224 years old, he has only lived 100 years  of life - only now is he really embarking on actual living-years beyond a mortal’s.  (It’s also implied Nicki is slightly older than Lestat as Nicki dies in 1789 and Lestat says he is 30.  This could just be an *ish*, but still…  This is also the year of Marius.  So Nicki would be born 1759 and Lestat 1760 in the book….). Also Lestat, Louis and Claudia are together for 65 years… Ish. Louis made a vampire in 1791 and Claudia in 1794.  Claudia and Madeleine are killed in 1865 in the book.

Now, on TV, Lestat is a mortal 1760-1794.  He turns Louis in 1910 and Claudia in 1917 and they kill him in 1940… He’s going to be rockstar Lestat in 2025-ish, at which point he would be 265 years old… he is going to have been out of the world pretty much 1940-2025 - 85 years, but how much dirt nap time will he have had and when?  I think he’s only going to sleep in between Nicolas and Louis myself.  If he really did sleep for around 100 years, that would take him to a comparable amount of existence as book-Lestat - around 100-ish years (105) of mortal and vampire existence.  Louis and Claudia and Lestat have only 23 years together, the three of them on TV?

OK… all that to say a few things - in 1860-1984 Lestat misses out on much of the Industrial Revolution, an era he finds desperately unromantic and depressing.  How will the time shift affect this on TV?  I think, given there’ll only be one nap it’ll be grief, not the era that drives Lestat underground most likely… but what is it about whenever Lestat rises that will bring him back?  *Just* Marius?  Because I would say NOW feel this dreariness and doom and lack of Romance of the Industrial Revolution…??  When compared to when book-Lestat wakes…

Q Will the show compare Nicki and Louis, or do you think they’ll be more different on TV given how Louis is compared to book-Louis.  Here, Lestat compares their cynicism and self-destructiveness and I think those two traits are held nay show-Louis too…

Q How will it affect things that it is Louis rather than Claudia who gives Lestat his near slip into mortal death?  The thing is, this is less true anyway on the show as Lestat is both stronger and less badly injured… and potentially it could up the poignancy of Loustat… but it would lessen something for Lestat and Claudia

Q Will Lestat not mention Antoinette, the way he doesn’t mention Antoine in the book.  LOL - poor Antoine!

Q Might Lestat actually still say his murder was all Claudia’s fault to Armand, at least initially?  

Q Book-Armand wants Claudia dead so he can have Louis and he wants Louis and Lestat to both think each other dead (though he’d kill neither.). But what does TV Armand want and why?  Is it safely, solely?  So he was willing for whoever to get killed at the trial as long as some thing remained so he could continue to exist and he literally wasn’t fussy?  This concept feels pretty vague and strange to me…?

Q P511-2 Louis says Lestat made fledglings in NOLA, but Lestat says they’re orphaned fledglings who just stumbled on his lair.  Who do you believe?  I believe Lestat in this as I think he’d have been way too weak from how everyone describes him to make any fledgling and also Louis only assumes they’re his fledglings.  However, I do believe Louis’ account that he visited Lestat in person, didn’t just see him through the window as Lestat describes here.  It makes no sense that Armand tells Louis to go to NOLA to see Lestat, then Louis finds Lestat and doesn’t even enter the building to speak to him.  In what world!  No world!  I think Lestat is just ashamed.  Not because of how pitiable he looks and is… but because he begged Louis to stay with him so pitiably and Louis left him.  I think the idea that Louis could walk away from him is too much for  Lestat’s mind.  And I also think he was pretty addled at this time - weak and every thing he’s unsure what was real or dream or illusion… so Lestat might not even fully remember it anyway, even though it happened.  I think Lestat is ashamed and hurt.

I do think they need to get across the fact of Amand’s incandescent rage because he loves Lestat, but Lestat loves Louis in a way he never did, Armand.

Q Did book-Lestat make Louis partly to punish him for Nicki?  And TV Lestat?

Notes:

“Louis was a sufferer.” - Is that what makes folk fascinating, Lestat?

“His blindness to the motivations or the suffering of others” reads like lack of empathy, naivety and self-centredness to me, as Lestat describes Louis… which doesn’t;t sound very charming to me…

Interesting that Louis eviscerates Lestat in IWTV, but p501 Lestat doesn’t care about denying any of that… BUT he wants us to know Louis begged Lester to never leave him - that Louis didn’t say he loved and needed Lestat is what bothers Lestat, not that he pained him as a literal Hell-Demon.

“He must look presentable, our lost lord.  That was always his way.”  I think this line could be on TV.

P510 - “My never ending supple of ‘coin of the realm’” - I love how Anne just writes this like it is here: a magical money tree.

“I’d slip a little deeper away from things, just lying in the dark.”  I love how Anne describes depression, grief and withdrawal from the world.

Has anyone read Black Mask?  Is it light or dark?  Serious?  Easy to read?

I wrote hearts over this last part of the book over and over: so much love for Louis.

Lestat is so out of it when Armand visits.  He doesn’t know what’s real and what isn’t and doesn’t have the capacity to even think on it. P513 - many quotes here.  Lestat feels close to madness…. And again, I say Louis did visit.

“Look at the fire.  Wouldn’t it be lovely if it took the whole room?  Wouldn’t it be lovely if it spread and spread and took us all?  You can never see things becoming impossible.  If only you knew beforehand the forces are… invisible… that bring you to a stop, you might be able to prepare… One day you can’ muster the will to cross the room.  Open spaces… passable… everywhere… who saw it coming?” Richard Greenberg, The Dazzle. I’m reminded so strongly of this when Lestat is finally talking about candles running out, time passing in strange ways and at last going into The Earth to hold him, surrounded by slithering things that are not horrific.

Akasha’s words are exactly Allessandras (p518 & 221)

Things that can’t happen on TV:

Lestat doesn’t have a full mortal lifetime with Louis and Claudia, only 23 years

Lestat can’t tell us he only killed the evildoer during his time with Louis without huge retcon of conversations we saw

Claudia isn’t the one who took him closest to a mortal death, it’s Louis.  And he was stronger and less injured, so also - not so close to a mortal death.

I’m really sad we can’t see Lestat as described on p504 - as a hideous and crippled monster, hunting on the outskirts of society, basically a revenant - his soul shattered as well as his body, such that his light is gone and he is a husk of a being, merely existing, more beast than human for sure.

Lestat cannot go to Armand in Paris in order to drink his blood and be healed.  He is not as injured and he is stronger on TV too.

Armand can’t trick Lestat the way he does in the book into being imprisoned as Lestat is incredibly mentally fragile as well as physically fragile here in the book - psychologically and emotionally, and I just don’t see how he can be to this degree on the show, once again, given the above changes and that he cannot have just gone through these years of revenant-esque existence.

Armand can’t see Lestat’s scars as he does in the book.

Armand can’t feel the level of triumph he does in the book.

Lestat’s vanity matters here - when Armand is taking him to the theatre, he does’t want to be *seen*, but given he never looked more immaculate than at the trial, he can’t be bothered about this…. Like book-Lestat wouldn’t want to see Louis in Paris as he’d be ashamed of being seen how he was there by Louis, for example.

Lestat is in fact so fragile here, that even is courage deserts him.  I want to see this Lestat in Paris, but I cannot conceive of how it could be possible given the changes on TV.

Assad would be so brilliant conveying Armand’s incandescent range at Lestat reminding him all he’d given him and expecting something now in return, when from Armand’s perspective, he hasn’t let go of what Lestat did to the old coven at all… but all of this can’t happen on telly…

Lestat can’t be kept in the Bosch basement of literal Hell….. nor can he be shoved with barely any warning into the trial as he rehearsed it on TV…. Might Armand keep him in one of the coffins in the cellar, like Nicki, like Louis for a time? (See quote p508). I don’t think so, but it is possible…

Claudia going silently into death didn’t happen.  It’s really sad how Lestat describes this in the book.

Armand pushing Lestat off the tower - it’s just too similar to the Louis-Lestat drop… unless Armand literally replicates it to punish Lestat???  But if that’s the case it isn’t like the book in any case.

Lestat being stuck in Paris (a place of trauma for him) for 2 years till he is strong enough to get back home can’t happen.

Armand’s vision of restoration to SadStat p514 can’t happen BUT I WANT IT.  I love how it echoes the glorious vision from when Lestat was but a baby vampire too, that Anne wrote in that magnificent prose!

Armand can’t watch over Lestat for 55 years in NOLA as Lestat sleeps like in the book, I’m sure.  Might he during Lestat’s 1800’s nap?  It’s described how he does this by Louis in the book on p531

Louis can’t have thought Lestat was dead… not pre-rock star era a anyway as he’s literally just seen him!  Too many changes for that.  In the books, when Louis visited Lestat, he thought he was dying a mortal old-age-esque death and he left him anyway, which for me amps up the tragedy of it, as Louis loves Lestat, yet leaves him.  Leaves him thinking he may never see him again, as he may now die.  And maybe it’s what he deserves.  And maybe it’s a kindness.  And now he is alive and restored here… but it can’t be this way on TV.  Things are not this way.

Lestat being sarcastic is fun:

Sarcastic about other vampires in fiction p502

And again, p530

Lines for TV

Harecatcher/ratcatcher from Armand to Lestat

Delicious it was, the hatred between us, or so I thought.  Such unfamiliar excitement, to have him there to ridicule and despise.

"I can't deceive you," I answered. "I can't love you. What are you to me that I should love you? A dead thing that hungers for the power and the passion of others? The embodiment of thirst itself?” - but when?  As not in NOLA…..

I hope Lestat says this “The earth was holding me. Living things slithered through its thick and moist clods against my dried flesh. And I thought if I ever do rise again, if I ever see even one small patch of the night sky full of stars, I will never, never do terrible things. I will never slay innocents. Even when I hunted the weak, it was the hopeless and the dying I took, I swear it was. I will never never work the Dark Trick again. I will just ... you know, be the "continual awareness" for no purpose, no purpose at all.”

I’m sure Louis will call Lestat Monsieur Le Rock Star.

“I think to be this happy is to be miserable, to feel this much satisfaction is to burn.” Lestat, on being with Louis.

“And I had always loved him, hadn't I, no matter what happened, and how strong could love grow if you had eternity to nourish it, and it took only these few moments in time to renew its momentum, its heat?” Such a lot of love in this meeting.

Hopefully we get to see Louis protect Lestat by punching someone like he does p544….

Dionysus in San Francisco:

Questions:

Q How will a rockstar tour work?  Akasha appearing at the final concert and that being San Francisco?  I guess the music industry is very different now… you wouldn’t get someone as famous as Lestat describes with such buzz yet who’d never performed live, I think…. Also, Louis worries about Lestat performing one concert… how will he feel about a whole tour?  When will Akasha wake?  How will Marius play Lestat’s music to her?

Q Will Lestat write an actual book?  Or will it be something else?  And how will Louis consume whatever it is?

Q P529 What’s the pain Lestat senses in Louis?  “I sensed a pain in him, running like a vein of ore through his whole being, a vein that could carry feeling to the coldest depths.” Yearning? Worry?  Guilt?  Regret?

Q Lestat seeks meaning to fit the age, but The Age now is the 2020’s, not the 1980’s.  What is the spirit and meaning of right now?

Q Any lines you think might be used as song lyrics?

Q: Will Lestat’s rockstar career be compared to Nicolas and the Theatre Des Vampires?

What Lestat is doing with his rockstar stuff is very similar to what Nicolas was doing with the Theatre des Vampires 200 years earlier. Both of them are actually revealing true vampire experience though art, which is perceived by mortals as only art.

But actually Nicolas did it in a more artistic & darker & meaningful way - with some kind of actual lesson about true evil in his art & the artistic expression of his own experience.

However, Lestat in true Lestat style goes all out on charisma & fun & entertainment & wants to create joy & enjoys the kind of pagan/religious/Witches’ Place Rapture of it all.

But, Lestat despises Nicolas’ art as a vampire: because it is so vampiric & inhuman. He calls it ‘petty’. But it *is* at least Nicki’s genuine expression.  And I don’t think we can argue anything other than that it was ‘better’ art, too!  And Lestat - you and Nicki both *are* vampires!  You made Nicki this!

In any case, what on Earth would 1780’s Lestat say to his own 1980’s art!!!?!

Lestat even calls his own lyrics puerile… so why does he not even want to make good art?  The lyrics in all caps and the fact they were vampire capes… it is all SO cheesy!!

I am also reminded of Lestat’s first on-stage vampire breakdown with his rockstar feats - there’s a similar vibe, except in a new era, where Lestat no longer scares as these humans can believe these things possible that weren’t possible 2 centuries earlier.

Q Lestat reading a Bowie biography at some point?  Surely some biography of some musician we’ll see…?

Lestat literally screams “"I AM EVIL! EVIL!”” P541 and it is SO Nicolas screaming what he truly is at passersby… yet the impact is different as 2025 is different.  But I feel you could parallel this somehow if you so chose to.

The concert is described as almost transcendental.

“Deliver me from this, deliver me from loving it. Deliver me from forgetting everything else, and sacrificing all purpose, all resolve to it. I want you, my babies. I want your blood, innocent blood. I want your adoration at the moment when I sink my teeth. Yes, this is beyond all temptation.” - Love me to death.

Notes:

“Our record album” is so antiquated!  Is it Lestat or Anne, out of touch?  Anne wasn’t old when she wrote TVL, so maybe it is intentionally Lestat?

Louis knows Lestat seeks him when he drives Diivisadero Street (p522 & p527)

Vampire loneliness on p523 “I realized that I possessed a new concept of loneliness, a new method of measuring a silence that stretched to the end of the world. And all I had to interrupt it were those menacing recorded preternatural voices which carried no images as their virulency increased:”

Lestat wants to feel the love of an audience, from the adoring swathe.  To be the God.

“My Louis” p523

“And at odd moments I remembered those long-ago nights at Renaud's little theatre too clearly. The strangest details came back, the feel of the white paint as I had smoothed it over my face, the smell of the powder, the instant of stepping before the footlights.” When I was 8 I was in Laurel’s ballet - a ballet written by a girl who’d once danced at the dancing school and tragically died young (I didn’t know her.  I was only 8.  She hadn’t been at the dancing school when I was there. I presume she must have died in her early 20’s and left the dancing school before I began when I was 2.)  Anyway, I was the youngest group in the ballet - we were 8-18 and it was all about the sea.  People played pearls, seahorses, the rainbow, the swirling waves, the sun…. But me?  I was SEAWEED.  To cap off the insult, most characters got a choreographed dance, but we just had to lie over rocks, still for the majority of the ballet then swirl about randomly for a moment.  But we also wore one-shoulder, poo BROWN leotards with thick, hurts hard elastic in and with straggly bits of green dangling off them on and our entire face and arms and legs and shoulder were covered in green greasepaint.  We did two shows some days and I can still smell that green greasepaint… which,  is NOT easy to get off, may I add! Just, Lestat talking of his painted face brings that smell and feeling back to me, too.

“"I want to affect things, to make something happen!”” Is this the root of Lestat?  Despite all in his mind, Lestat is a doer.

Salamander is hilarious.  I hope they keep the name on TV.

The oyster shell swimming pool is so ’80’s.

I love how Lestat describes Louis is this part of the book, and seeing Jacob and Sam together as Louis and Lestat with this vibe is going to be so beautiful.  I drew hearts all over the pages.

The embrace on page 526 reminded me of the S2E8 embrace?

“It was like taking pictures from the attic, cleaning away the dust and finding the colors still vibrant. And the pictures should have been portraits of dead ancestors and they were pictures of us.” - Such exquisite and evocative description. And “everything growing older, except us.” There’s a new sense of time for Lestat now.

Are you interested?  Yes, you know I am… hehehehehe - this will be electricity.

I love Lestat feeling too much to be able to say he loves Louis.

“I didn't tell him about the mortal part, the vanity of wanting to perform, the eerie madness that had come over me when I saw myself on the television screen, saw my face on the album covers plastered to the windows of the North Beach record store.” We could ask Sam if he can relate to Lestat here?

P532 Louis tells Lestat he thinks he understands but does he really - just as Allessandra did in Les Innocents so long ago.

P533 - talk of evil to fit the age… how would a vampire fit in in 2025?

P536 Love the talk of coming back to each other… though likely doesn’t fit for TV in quite this way.

“the love I felt for him was positively humiliating.”

“The morning was too empty after he had gone.”

P536 - crazy that Lestat has never actually even been to a gig to watch!  And it is interesting how he describes the experience of performing in such a religious-ritualistic way, that reminds me of Mael’s druid ceremonies and The Witches’ Place more than it reminds me of Renaud’s.  

I’d forgotten how many scythes there are in the last section!  How did they get them through security?!

Lestat and Louis both have the power to burn people on TV… not just Akasha, so some of this will be different.

I’m excited to see Gabrielle and Louis together!  What does Louis think of Gabrielle?  What does Louis understand of Lestat from meeting Gabrielle?

So interesting how you can feel the calm Akasha projects to Lestat and he alone.

“"That music of yours could wake the dead.”” Is such a Mum thing to say, haha!

“And I felt the voiceless cry rising out of me and traveling into oblivion. I could almost feel it traverse the world of visible proportions, feel it grow fainter and fainter, feel it burn out.” Gorgeously written!

I feel so bad for Marius at the end here.  Though he also, once again, did play Lestat’s music to Akasha!  I love the many repetitions of earlier phrases in this last section of the book - echoes through time.

“Alien, utterly foreign, yes.

But not uncivilized, no, not savage. She was not that. She was only just reawakened, my goddess, risen like a magnificent butterfly from its cocoon. And what was the world to her? How had she come to us? What was the state of her mind? Danger to all of us. No. I don't believe it! She had slain our enemies. She had come to us.” - lovely 

The end is great as a TV series ending!  Better than for a book!

“But I couldn't fight the drowsiness and heaviness any longer. Pure sensation was driving out all wonder and excitement. My body grew limp and helplessly still against the earth.

And then I felt a hand suddenly close on mine.

Cold as marble it was, and just about that strong.

My eyes snapped open in the darkness. The hand tightened its grip. A great mass of silken hair brushed my face. A cold arm moved across my chest.

Oh, please, my darling, my beautiful one, please! I wanted to say. But my eyes were closing! My lips wouldn't move. I was losing consciousness. The sun had risen above.”

I wonder how they will portray how Lestat feels towards Akasha on TV?

[musclesandhammering]

Honestly? Canonically, at the end of the show, I don’t see either one of them as explicitly romantic.

We can argue about what the writers/actors wanted the implications to be, but the implications that are there suggest that Loki cared very deeply about both of them- they’re the two most important people in the world to him at that point- and that’s it. You don’t always need a classification.

I interpret his dynamic with Sylvie as two people who connected and understood each other extremely well right off the bat, and because it was something so incredibly rare for both of them, it hit them really hard and sparked some romantic feelings. Those feelings were genuine for both of them at the time and in the situation, but once Sylvie accomplished her goals and got some distance, and once Loki made connections with other people and started feeling less alone, those feelings calmed down for both of them into a sort of platonic soulmate-ism.

As for him and Mobius, I think they’re each other’s first genuine organic human connection pretty much ever and obviously they’re best friends. Like the kind of best friends that spend every moment together and would be lost without each other. Mobius is Loki’s other half by all definitions at this point, but that doesn’t necessarily involve kissing. I would argue there’s definitely a crush going on on Loki’s end, but I don’t think it’ll ever develop into anything. Because, yes, Marvel’s homophobia, but also because their story just doesn’t seem made to go in that direction. And that’s ok.

With all that being said, though, seeing arguments (and lots of bragging) from the sylki angle that her relationship with him was romantic and the lokius one was obviously not is…. annoying. We all know how prone Hollywood is to unnecessary straight-presenting romance and how reluctant they are to acknowledge any kind of queer attraction- even for characters they’ve confirmed as queer. Given all the text and subtext, I’d honestly say there’s as much evidence to support Loki and Mobius being in love as there is loki and sylvie, when you account for media bias and all that.

And pretending like those biases don’t come into factor and those queer implications don’t exist in the show at all- just because your fav ship happens to be the m/f looking one- is not a good strategy.

In defense of Lokius from a non-shipper

I'm not going to reblog the post that inspired this, but I just want to point out that everyone takes something different from any story. We tend to focus on the things we relate to or need. Sometimes we need to fill in some of the blanks because the writers can't create a story that's all things to all people. That's not a problem. It's how it should be...

Personally, I get bored by romance plots (the term "aro" wasn't around when I was young, but yeah, that's me). I'm not ace, but I generally don't care who is fu**ing whom in fiction or in real life. I tend to see romantic relationships as just another form of friendship.

I was blown away by the Loki finale and Loki's character growth, and I've been obsessed with it ever since the finale. What I related to and needed was provided by the show (though I want still more of it).

That said, if ever there was justification for a non-canon ship (not that justification is ever required), Lokius is it. Heck, we still don't know what it was about ep 2.5 that required a last-minute rewrite. Maybe it was something that complicated the MCU canon too much. Maybe it was just too expensive. Or, maybe, it was Lokius made canon. All of these seem equally possible.

Fandom isn't hurt by people having different theories about what happened. In fact, that's how a fandom thrives.

You know what does hurt a fandom? Shaming others for seeing something different in a story than you did.

When people do that, it tells me that they simply don't understand how stories really work.

[blametheeditor]

“You’ll get used to it,” Scott says, still keeping his voice quiet, but it’s not enough to not trigger the damaged system in his right ear. And that means Vincent’s going to be having a dangerous dance with if his limbs will function, or if he’ll glitch badly enough he’ll be constantly falling to the floor without rhyme or reason. “Is there a way to shut off the hearing enhancement from the outside?”

...why didn’t he think of that?

“Uh, on my neck. Tap...I think it’s-s-s three times. Gently!”

Vincent blinks down at the floor as he feels Scott move his ponytail aside, followed by fingers tailing up his spine before causing the purple man’s body to twitch, wanting to defend itself but unable to.

“And you’re sure it’s three,” Scott confirms.

“Mhm.” It’s been a while, but the only concerning no-no is the kill switch, and that’s-

There’s a sudden and immediate shutdown of everything after the third distinct tap, the framework down to what regulates his body temperature acting as if it was never there. He forgot to warn Scott that his metal infrastructure isn’t exactly light, meaning his best friend yells as the set limits are turned off as well and therefore forced to fall onto his back by the sheer weight. What he gets for laughing!

But Vincent feels everything reboot within seconds, allowing him to use his hands to sit up so he can properly grin down at Scott’s glare. “Buy me dinner first, Scotty.”

“Tell me when I’m about to be crushed, Vince,” the man growls, but it’s clear he’s still concerned. Vincent feels so special. “How do you feel?”

Well, Scott’s voice no longer feels grating. It’s been a while since his enhanced hearing has been turned off. Of course it allowed himself to easily hear a human as if they’re standing directly by his shoulder instead of sounding so faint, but it’s a bit of a curse when loud giants like David exist. Also allows certain screamers like Eggs to have quite the advantage.

This is nice, though. Everything’s so quiet, and there’s no longer the painful ringing of tinnitus in his ear.

“Are you two okay?”

Vincent grits his teeth as the calm vanishes in an instant. It’s not enough to stop the literally rumbling voice from further damaging his systems. Meaning Scott’s treated with the very concerning show of strength as the hands placed on the ground beside his head clench so hard they crack the tile.

He can’t even appreciate being able to actually see the hazel eyes widening. Because that could’ve happened when he grabbed Scott’s hand to effectively crush every bone into dust. And that is bad.

“Wh-Wh-Who-o-o the fuck is-!”

Vincent goes deathly still as he finally looks beyond the small world around him and realize something is very, very wrong. Yes, Scott’s not supposed to be at his size, and of course in the back of his mind he knew what happened. But he didn’t want to think about it.

Didn’t want to face the reality he doesn’t even stand three inches tall.

[moonsaurora]

yall are obsessed with a hard launch and for what 😭

[gothsuguru]

omg yesterday made me so tired but HOPEFULLY today i can write more for the fic & also begin rereading the jjk manga from the beginning :3

[iamafictionfreak]

Hello, hello!!!

So… it’s been a while. I know I promised/offered/hoped for more of this. And... even though it’s been months, I've finally managed to write the next part.

Not to be deceiving, but part 2 is literally episode 2 only. I'm going the way of Loaded march and posting oneshot's with a rough length of about 20, 000 words? Give or take 5000.

Ever read Footloose’s Loaded March? The Merthur fic to end all Merthur fics?

For those here who aren’t Merthur veterans – we hold weekend group therapy sessions, and depression Thursdays – Loaded March is a series of stories (16 in all) amounting to 1,261,720 words, which is mind boggling to me, and each story is never more than either a oneshot or a handful of chapters until you reach the end.

So, I’m doing that here. Highest form of flattery there is.

So, yep. Part 2 is written and it's around 20000 words - Once it's edited I'll upload, very hopeful for a release by New year. Each episode will be the equivalent of a mini arc but it'll likely be a while before part 3 etc.

As with the above post, I’m aiming, if I actually manage to get there, to cover the rest of season 1 and leave it in a good place. It’s basically a retelling of the show, except with Arthur knowing Merlin’s secret, which changes everything. The juicy part is how this is investigated, developed and how it may or may not alter events as these two idiots progress.

Forewarning: don’t expect a light and fluffy time. Yes, I’m hoping it will be humorous. It’ll likely be dark at times, angsty. Painful. But the light is the key, and the relationship between Arthur and Merlin, the core. It’s, hopefully (pleasepleaseplease) full of adventure and truth and fun!

Unfortunately, Arthur, as you’ve seen, won’t immediately be buddy buddy with the personification of ‘evil’ that his father has raised him to want to destroy. We have a trained killer with a nobility made of steel and a heart as fragile as a bird’s. We have a soft and squishy peasant boy beholding the world's heart of gold, a primal gaze who is an unforeseen powerhouse with unlimited potential to grow into the most formidable man on the planet.

In the show, we see Merlin change over time, moving from servant to devotee of Arthur but kept very much isolated and shadowed. It leads to a very bittersweet end and a deeply fearful Merlin who should never have had to be. With said man knowing the truth, how does that change this growth. I’m not a fan of unearned progression so please don’t expect these two to become the best of friends in the space of 2 chapters.

In the show they fit all the definitions yet fit exactly none of them. They’re friends, except they’re not because their social status gets in the way. They’re devoted comrades, except they’re not because how can they be when such huge secrets stand between them. They’re each other’s protector, except neither really knew it nor understood what it meant. Arthur became Merlin’s purpose, and no one ever knew that heartbreakingly beautiful truth, so he couldn’t serve said purpose to his fullest potential. Arthur was never able to know what it was like to have someone like that by his side because even when he married Gwen, there was a piece if himself that he kept concealed. Watch season 5 and you’ll see what I mean and it’s because of that, that Gwen feels so alone at times.

The show held such potential. And luckily fan works aren’t limited by money or stereotypes or backwards thinking or, oddly enough, a yearning to thrown in a boatload of realism in the last half hour of a supremely unrealistic show.

This fic will not be halted or forced or rushed into romance of any kind. I have an issue with unearned progression. Natural chemistry leads to places yes, but people don't usually just fall in love and go with the flow.

The possibilities are delicious, won’t lie. If Arthur and Merlin had been allowed to ‘touch that’ in the show, the depth of it - the many layers it would have added - would have taken it in a very different direction, one that didn’t fit BBC goals at the time. Imagine all the S1/2 episodes with a bi Arthur. How that alone changes everything about it. Likewise, rewatch the episodes and imagine that it circles certain forbidden feelings and suddenly it’s so much more. I also won’t destroy existing love angles for the sake of something that I want more. No, it needs to feel natural. We’ll see what happens.

If you have questions, throw them at me, whether I answer them is another thing entirely.

I hope you’re all okay at the very least. It’s been a tough few years.

P.S I was going to wait until the third part was written as well, but the year has been hard; I've been sick, I've gotten a new far more stressful job and I've begun it question whether we really do exist within a 'matrix', so it feels right to post a sequel at christmas when merlin did everything to kill us once upon a time.

*not my gif*

In a Land of Christmas, and a Time of Fanfiction, There was an Irritated Woman in Dire Need of a Re-Write:

(gifs not mine - they're from @genyakosstyk)

So… I did it! I did exactly what I said I’d do here. I wrote the start of what could become a long-winded piece of diatribe focusing on how much Merlin the tv series could have healed us instead of hurt us.

I can’t tell if I’m overly ambitious, a little desperate (about anything and everything honestly) or just so done with 2023 and the crap-tastic news it generates. That and, I have this on repeat in my mental-space, which is more of a shed than a palace:

(gif from @punqueen13 )

So that's fun.

It’s forgivable to escape horror or fear or fatigue or guilt and grief by diving into fantasy. And is there anything more fantastical than merlin? Merlin and all the promise it brings. Is there any wonder why fics are still being churned out for a series that ended 11 years ago?

So here it is.

Part 1 of one. I’ve written a short, five chapter thing. It isn’t a prologue, it’s an intermission between episode 1 and 2 of season 1. The chapters are short for a reason, but I wanted to give a mix of both Arthur and Merlin povs so do let me know if they’re extremely out of character – I can handle a little ooc, especially given the nature of fanfic but if I can’t hear their voices in my head or see them as I read, I feel like I’ve failed.

I think I did ok?

The premise is simple:

Arthur sees Merlin, a peasant he had a brief altercation with, use magic to save his life. He should tell his father about. He should arrest Merlin.

He doesn’t. His honour being at risk, he allows Merlin to work for him on the proviso that he doesn’t use magic. Ever.

Except Arthur has questions he’s never been given the answers to. And Merlin is – odd. He’s nothing like what Arthur’s been told a sorcerer is and he makes it all too easy for Arthur to drop his guard around him.

Which- well, it must be magic, right?

His father, his attendants and tutors, have taught him about the manipulations of witchcraft and sorcery and how they can twist a man into feeling empathy for the wicked.

The problem is that Merlin isn’t exactly what he’d call wicked. Arthur trusts his own instincts and they’re telling him very different things to what the king decreed. He vows to watch over his new manservant. The moment he commits treason, he’ll run a sword through him.

And in the meantime, maybe – just maybe – he’ll find out for himself if a man who turns to evil, can’t turn back.

I’LL POST EACH CHAPTER WITHIN THE NEXT TWO WEEK SEASONAL PERIOD.

But.

There will then be a wait for part 2 – if anyone truly wants it, that is. And if not, hey. I had fun writing this.

Other bits and bobs and odds and sods:

Will there be romance?

Eventually! But I do wonder with who you mean? And this is first and foremost an experiment about how Merlin and Arthur could have been if what when how and why. If Arthur had Merlin's full trust and if Merlin was allowed past the walls Arthur had erected to keep even Gwen out, what could they have become?

Is it funny?

I HAVE NO IDEA. I truly hope so though, at east a little. There's some seriousness ahead to get through first though, Arthur isn't just going to jump into trust.

Will there be a lot of differences from season 1?

I aiming for exactly that.

How much trouble is Merlin in? More than season 1?

Ahem, have you seen the below man?

Merlin's in ALL the trouble. He just doesn't know yet that trouble is his home-spice.

[plugnuts]

One time when Tweek’s having a lot of trouble with his shirt buttons those in CATG that have buttons will stand in solidarity with Tweek and unbutton their clothes to purposely wrongly button them back up to make Tweek feel better. Then they just keep it that way for the rest of the day

[ssreeder]

Hello! :D

Hmmm... you know, number 12 seems interesting. 👀

And possibly number 19? Does fear (or maybe anger if you wish to answer this one) appear in this chapter?

-Pain Anon

(no Red Anon sadly :p )

HIIIII PAIN ANON!! (Sorry I haven’t responded to your other ask I lubbbb you & it took me so long to answer this…)

Ok so 12. What emotions do I plan for people to feel?

Ummm probably a mixture of conflicting feelings (per usual) i assume people will understand why one character is doing something even though they dislike it! So probably some frustration… i also I think there will be a lot of second hand embarrassment because some characters (Sokka) do things that are like UGHHH WHYYYYYY…….

19. Fear:

There was a reason citizens of the Fire Nation feared the Royal Family… and Iroh was a testament to that fear when he wanted to be.

Anger:

Jee couldn’t see them, but he heard the subtle anger in Zuko’s voice when he whispered, “You really are an idiot sometimes.”

[exopelagic]

cue screaming abt legends Z-A

[tiredsadpeach]

Update they both hate me because I told the child one of them was harassing the acc he could block to try and stop it

[cursingtoji]

cw: office au, nanami x loser!reader, semi public, oral, praising, slight emotional dependency? geto version gojo version

nanami is so in love with the little office loser. he doesn’t give you much attention when you first arrive, just another presence in the office. then he starts to, unwillingly, listen to the conversation of others about giving the new clumsy girl a little rough time.

nanami watches from the corner of his eye as you quietly accepts your boss’ request to work overtime, he frowns as your boss implies under many corporate jargons that it’ll be unpaid and you should do it for the team.

“so naive” he murmurs watching you smile.

he can’t help but become infatuated with you when watching your skirt raising when you try to reach a tall shelf in the communal kitchen.

“here” he catches the coffee beans bag for you, without even needing to extend his arm much. nanami arrives so quietly that his voice scares you and you take a step back bumping into his strong body behind you and leaving a tiny squeal out, “sorry, are you okay?” he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“y-yes, thank you” he gives you space and you turn around looking at him over the thick frame of your glasses. it reminds nanami of those ads where a gorgeous woman has a pair of glasses down her nose and the caption says something like ‘single hotties in your area’. he then understands the appeal.

he keeps himself busy most days, so one day as soon as he sends an email he relaxes on his desk rolling his shoulders and looking around just in time to watch you knock a box of staples off your table. he raises from his seat to go help you but he gets a call at the same time so he sits back down to answer it while keeping his eyes on you.

you kneel picking the small items one by one. he likes seeing you on your knees. then you push your chair and crawl under the desk, trying to reach a few staples that went under the cabinet, at this point you’re with your head down on the carpeted floor and your ass up, nanami watches it with lusty eyes, just agreeing and humming to whatever the person on the phone is saying while wondering if you remember you are wearing a skirt. he watches in awe the black semi transparent pantyhose you have on stretch at the back of your thighs and the panties peeking out from underneath it.

when you get up your hair is messy and your face is flushed, you don’t think most of it, just glad to have caught every little staple. meanwhile nanami pulls his chair closer to his desk so you don’t see the volume in his pants when you pass by after basically flashing him.

nanami knows he wouldn’t last long with you around. one night he also stays overtime and you, being the extreme people pleaser you are, bring him some coffee and different sugar packets since you don’t know how he takes his coffee, but even with this simple self-assigned task you still manage to screw up and spill some on his pants immediately apologizing and getting on your knees to clean it with your sleeve. the friction on his upper thigh is making him grow hard but your teary eyes is what pushes him over the edge.

“nanami-san, don’t go home too late” the last person in the office says stepping on the elevator and waving goodbye.

“have a good night” the blond manages to say over the desk divider that hides your figure. finally knowing you two are alone kento throws his head back and allow his muscles to relax and enjoy the warmth of your mouth as you suck him.

“that’s right, sweetheart, good girl” he praises with a guiding hand on the back of your neck. it’s so good to have someone praising you in this place that your eyes water with joy. kento never meant to nut in the office but here he is, watching his cum run down your chin.

you take the small bin under his desk to spit the incriminating evidence of his pleasure so you don’t have to swallow it, “here, let’s make the clean crew think that’s matsuda’s” kento switches the bin with the one under his coworkers desk.

he hates to admit but over time he starts to look forward the times you feel overwhelmed and come to him for affection.

which leads him to the tiny copy room way too many times, making you hold the edge of your skirt and pulling your underwear and tights down to eat you out on top of the copy maker.

“keep quiet, darling” he warns knowing fully well how thin the walls are.

although you have done many unspoken things to him in this office, nanami still flusters you. every time he’s near, your thighs start to shake and your clit throbs untouched.

“come here, i’ll show you” he motions you over his desk when you ask for help with a task. you watch him perform it on the computer screen, “now you try it” he moves his chair a bit to give you space to use his keyboard and as you bend over slightly to replicate his steps he uses the opportunity to feel the skin of the back of your legs since today you don’t have any tights.

“go back, click here” he corrects still touching you, his hand comes higher, laying just under your ass cheeks, “why are you shaking? type the code there” he says like he doesn’t have a hand under your skirt.

“s-sorry” you say when making a mistake.

“it’s okay, start over” he commands, now playing with the hem of your underwear, it’s hard to do what he showed you when you can’t even guide the cursor right.

nanami pushes the material of your underwear into your folds making out the shape of your pussy through it.

“do it again with this file” he points sounding so collected it makes you even more nervous, he rubs your core so lightly, it’s almost like he’s doing it for his own pleasure, like he’s trying to make out the shape of your clit with the tips of his finger only.

“save it, and send to yourself” as you finish the task he starts to pull down your underwear looking around to make sure no one is watching when he helps you step out of the white lacy material, “well done” he bends to pick your panties, giving your leg a quick kiss — since that’s the most he can do in the office during the day—, and putting the soaked fabric in his pocket.

“thank you” you smile and slowly make your way back to your desk, though your boss calls you middle way about a mistake you made on a file and to come to his office, now you wonder how you’re supposed to make it through the day not only without underwear but also dripping wet.

[kngrose]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐈'𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃...

imagine a situationship with sevika

WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, drinking, bi! reader but wlw, eventual smut, modern au

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i have way too many thoughts about this— this will have multiple parts. see part two here. ^^

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You didn’t plan for it. But somewhere along the line, something changed. Your relationship had gotten too… comfortable. At first, the changes were subtle; He wasn’t saying anything outlandish, nothing to make you question your relationship.

But there were small instances, ones where he’d forget plans you made, or when he’d linger on his phone a little longer than usual in your company. You told yourself it was nothing; he might just be a little more stressed than usual– maybe there’s something personal he’s going through.

But as time passed, the pattern became clearer. Conversations that used to flow easily were now strained, almost forced, filled with half-hearted responses. He didn't pick up on the little things anymore; your new manicure or your haircut you had gotten to perfectly frame your face, in hopes that he would notice.

He wouldn’t be as passionate anymore, the fire he once held slowly dimming before your eyes. It was disheartening. The spark that once kept your relationship alive is fading, and you're left with a gnawing feeling of emptiness that you can’t quite explain.

And then there was her.

It wasn’t anything too large, the event. Just a kickback amongst some of your shared friends and some extras they’d invited. You’d tagged along with your boyfriend who’d long forgotten about you, chopping it up with a few of the guys on the couch. You felt a sour twinge in your gut as you sat beside him; this is the most enthusiasm he’s shown in weeks.

You’d noticed her in your solitude; shooting you glances across the room. Similar to you, she hadn’t said much of anything, just idly man-spread on the neighboring couch, red cup held loosely in her hand. You’ve never seen her before… you wonder whose friend she is.

You can't help but return the glances– look at her. Her broad shoulders, her thighs, her hands decorated with rings. The piercings that decorate her face. Those eyes, assessing you as she circles the rim of her cup with an index finger, a little smirk forming on her dark lips.

How could you help it– when she’s just radiating with unspoken confidence? It’s captivating, drawing you in like a deer in headlights. There’s a sharpness in her eyes that unsettles you, and yet, something about it excites you. She’s not like anyone you’ve ever seen.

You realized later that she was just waiting. Waiting for your boyfriend to excuse himself so she could move in. It’ll make you wonder later, how much of this she premeditated. It doesn’t take her long to approach you when he leaves, sliding into the spot next to you curtly, smirking as she meets your eyes. She’s beautiful up close.

She’s looking at you with that calculating gaze, making it clear she’s intrigued. She scans your face up and down, “Like your hair… suits you.”

Her voice was deep, commanding, like she had the power to bend the world to her will. You feel your cheeks warm under her gaze, touching your hair softly. “Thank you.” You manage to retort, embarrassingly glancing away. When you shot your eyes back to hers your breath got caught in your chest, her gaze is unwavering. A chuckle rumbles from her throat, “You’re cute.”

But it's not just the look—it’s the way she speaks to you. It’s amazing how easily she manages to fluster you, it’s effortless. Sevika, you learn that her name is, charms you with her dry humor and college stories, entertaining you the entirety of the night.

She tells you about all of the petty fights she’s been in, and all of her run ins with the police. Some of which are so descriptive you have to wonder if she’s being generous with the details. All the while she’s charming you up, placing a hand on your knee, then to your thigh, drawing small circles. You take note of the way she seems to fixate on your hair, constantly moving it from your face or twisting the strands between her fingers.

The flirtation feels different—darker. Her voice rumbles with a kind of quiet power, and when her hand brushes against yours, it lingers just a little too long. You want to pull away, but instead, you stay. The tension builds, and despite your better judgment, a part of you is drawn to it. To her.

You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself. You knew better than to get yourself alone with this girl, this freakishly charismatic, freakishly, randomly attractive girl. But you let her lead you away to a secluded hallway of the house, her excuse being the music was too loud.

And she continued conversing with you, leaning against the wall and swallowing down the rest of the cup. She huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh, “You a nanny or somethin’?” You shot her a confused look in response. She looked down, nodding her head towards the red cup in your hand. “You’re babysitting.” 

“Oh, this…” You mutter, swirling the drink around plainly. “Not much of a drinker.” You notice the roll of her eyes as she pushes herself off the wall and your breath hitches as she closes in on you. She pulls the cup from your hand, raising a large hand to your chin to tilt your head back. You barely manage to sputter, “What are you doing–!” before she orders you to, “Open,” nudging your chin softly.

You lock eyes with her for the umpteenth time, her eyes filled with something different this time around. You hesitantly part your lips, allowing her to pour the rest of the content into your mouth. There’s a soft groan leaving her mouth as she watches some of it spill from the corner of your lips down your chin.

The way her eyes lingered on your lips made your heart race. You were suddenly aware of how close you were, how her scent filled your senses, how her gaze felt like a slow burn.

You don’t say anything, but you can feel the heat between you both, the pull that’s been growing stronger with each passing second. Before you know it, she’s kissing you—rough and urgent, her hands gripping your hips with a hunger that matches the storm brewing inside you. Her kiss is overwhelming, like a fire that consumes you whole. You melt into it, into her, not thinking about the consequences, not thinking about him.

The moment ends just as quickly as it began, but the aftershocks are impossible to ignore. You stand there, breathless, disoriented, and yet, there’s a part of you that doesn’t regret it. It feels raw, real, and alive in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

You pull away from Sevika, your chest tight with confusion and shame. But Sevika just watches you, unfazed. There’s no sympathy in her gaze, in fact, all you could register was a sly smirk on her lips. Sevika moves to stand close to you, her presence overwhelming, wrapping a hand around your throat, "What's holding you back?" she mumbles against your lips.

And in that moment, you realize that nothing is holding you back. You’ve already made your choice without even knowing it.

There’s no turning back now.  

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[myfictionaldreams]

Day 6: Dry Hump- James Potter

Summary: James Potter was your best friend, and he was unequivocally in love with Lily Evans. However, he has one secret he trusts only with you: he’s never kissed anyone.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, inexperienced James & experienced Reader, friends with benefits vibes, kissing/making out, dry humping, cumming in pants, teasing, nearly caught

Part 2 // Part 3

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kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

James Potter was your best friend. He had many best friends, including the other Marauders and fellow Gryffindors, but he was YOUR best friend and had been since the first year at Hogwarts. James was the one person you always ran to and shared all happy memories with; if you needed cheering up, he’d be the only one who could pull a smile to your lips. It had always been just the two of you until he became infatuated with Lily Evans.

It had been years of hearing about how wonderful Lily was, which you knew anyway as she was your friend. Finally, you convinced her to say yes to one date with James, even though she did wait until everyone was finishing their time at Hogwarts and about to graduate. He’d waited long enough, and you were thrilled to see him getting his dream date.

This was until he casually announced one day, “I’ve never kissed anyone”.

He’d mumbled it to himself under his breath. James had gone from pure exhilarated joy to fear and doubt at the weight he’d put on his shoulders for having to be the perfect date for Lily. You’d taken him to the Shrieking Shack to try and get away from everyone else so that James could blow off some steam, but all he’d done so far was sulk in his armchair and stare into the fire whilst waiting for Sirius and Remus to join after their lesson.

Then, out of the blue, he admitted his secret that he had yet to kiss anyone. A frown dawns on you as you turn away from the book in your hand to inspect the messy-haired Marauder next to you visually. “What?” you asked with a hint of uncertainty as if he was telling the truth, “How have you never kissed anyone before?” Your mind raced to all of the parties in the Gryffindor tower where most people, including yourself, had made out with others, but now that you thought about it, you’d never seen James lip-locked with anyone else.

It was James’ turn to frown as he looked at you blankly, “When would I have had time? I’ve just wanted to be with Lily, and she’s always said no when I’ve asked before. Anyway, I don’t see why you’re saying it in that tone; it’s not like you’ve been kissing loads of people”. You give James a tight-lipped smile to show that he was, in fact, very wrong with that statement. His eyes widen as he realises the truth, “Wait, you have? Since when?”

“James, how can you be shocked? I’ve kissed plenty of people before, especially during those parties with the fire whiskey that Sirius always steals for us. You wander off with the Marauders or fawn over Lily, and what am I supposed to do? Stand on my own? Absolutely not, I go and find some fun”.

Your best friend’s mouth drops open in shock. Still, he quickly covers it up by looking away grumpily, “Great, so I’m the only person in our year who hasn’t kissed anyone, and now, I’m going to take Lily out, and she’s going to refuse to see me again because I don’t know what I’m doing, we’re going to finish school, and I’ll never see her again, and I’ll die alone!”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top rant, shutting the book with a loud snap and facing him completely whilst still in your chair. “James, you need to chill out a bit; I’m sure it’ll be fine. Do you really think Lily’s been going around snogging loads of boys? I’m sure she’s just as inexperienced as you”.

James’ shoulders dropped in relief as he turned back towards you with hope in his hazel eyes, “Do you think so?”

Your face immediately gave it away that you’d been lying as you sighed, “Ok, I might have seen her making out with a Ravenclaw a year ago, but still, I wouldn’t worry about it! You’ll be excellent! You’re James Potter, the Gryffindor King, a founding Marauder and Gryffindor Seeker. You can sure as hell make out with Lily Evans correctly”.

The pretty Marauder smiled thankfully at your dramatic declaration, “That’s true, thanks, Sweetheart”. Relaxing back into your seat, the book returned to your hand, assuming the conversation was officially over. However, only a moment later, James is whining pathetically, “But what if I’m not good? What if I hurt her or lick her wrong or-”.

“Lick? Why are you licking her, James? I thought we were on about kissing?”

“We are! But you know, people use tongues and-”

“James, I don’t know what you want me to say; if you’re that petrified with kissing, why don’t we practice a little so you can stop freaking out”. It took you a couple of long seconds before the offer you’d just given him genuinely dawned on you. You weren’t sure why you had said it, expecting him to say no but wishing for him to calm down and thinking this was the only option.

James’ head snapped towards you, giving his full attention as he asked, “Wait, you’d do that?” He pushed himself up off the chair's arms, and his eyes were wide and hopeful again.

Lowering the book, you spoke slowly, “Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s just a kiss, and at least we’re friends, so no feelings have to be involved”.

“Yeah, that's a good point! Okay, right, so, um, how do we do this? Do I come over to you, or do we stand?”

Sighing at James, you stood abruptly, dropping the book and strutting to him with arms swinging. The marauder sits up suddenly, taking his feet off the stool he had been resting on as he stares up at you with wide eyes that you can see the whites of his eyes beneath his glasses. “What are you doing?” He questions uncertainly as you straddle his lap without a word, your knees resting on either side of his toned thighs, your fingers slipping around his neck and interlocking at the base of his skull.

“I’m going to kiss you, James. Is that alright with you?” You didn’t mean to sound sassy as you asked with a single raised questioning eyebrow, but you also needed to make sure that he was happy for this to continue.

Those two wide hazel eyes stared at your lips, licking his own to moisten as he slowly nodded, “Uh yeah, just tell me what to do.” A pang of sympathy rushed through your chest at seeing James becoming nervous, which was not usually a sight that you had to see as he was usually such a confident, happy person. You would have spent some time to explain that it was normal to be nervous during your first kiss, but you didn’t want to allow any more time for him to freak out, so loosening your intern locked fingers, you moved them to cup each of her freshly shaved cheeks and pressed your lips delicately against his. You wanted it to be quick enough that he didn’t even have time to tense, even though he did proceed to lock up as you moved back to assess his reaction.

“See, it’s not so scary. You’re supposed to enjoy this, James”. Thankfully, as your face lowered once more, he forced himself to take a steadying breath and relax the tension in his muscles as your lips caressed his.

They were softer than you’d anticipated, plump and smooth like a pillow and instantly, your eyes and his close. However, James surprised you by moving his first. His hand lifted and rested on your hip so gently that you hardly felt it until he gave your body a little squeeze to test the waters of how much he could get into the moment. So you rewarded him by pressing your face harder against his, lips beginning to move and rubbing against each other on instinct.

James even amazed himself with how naturally and quickly he could make out with you. Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss, nose pressing into his cheek so that you could smell his skin that had remnants of his aftershave, which was always spicy and woodsy. As the air became necessary, you pulled back enough to take deep, greedy breaths, now noticing he was doing the same thing but looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

“So what did you think-”

James didn’t allow your sentence to finish as his other hand cupped along your jaw, pulling your face closer again until the two of you kissed with much more heat with the movements. His mouth opened wider to match how yours was moving against his; your heartbeat quickened as you leaned further into his tall, warm body, melting into his touch and kiss.

Then you wanted to take a risk and licked his bottom lip, which you were ultimately greeted with a praising deep groan of satisfaction that vibrated James’ entire chest and sent tingles straight to your core.

Ok, wow, you thought as James attempted and succeeded with his own lick back against your tongue; you were definitely getting turned on by this. As if he was reading your mind, James pressed harder on your hips, willing you to move down, which you did, your skirt pushing up on your thighs so that when you sat on his crotch, your panty-covered pussy was flush against the material of his trousers.

As one, the two of you pulled away from each other. Mainly because you were now sitting on his very hard erection and also because he knew you could feel his evidence of being aroused. You both stare at each other with wide, unblinking eyes, lips slightly swollen and the taste of his spit still on your tongue.

However, you didn’t want to stop and awkwardly sit back in your seat, and he wasn’t rushing to push you off, either. You were horny, and so was he. Yes, James Potter was your best friend, but that didn’t have to matter; you just wanted him to enjoy the moment and show that it wasn’t as scary as he thought.

Enough time passed, and if he didn’t want to continue, he would have said something by now, so you took the opportunity to lean back in, your thumb attempting to soothe him, stroking across his cheek in timid circles. As your mouths reconnected, your hips ground down on his crotch. You were hoping that he knew enough about anatomy to tell that the warmth from your pussy was a sign of arousal, wanting him to know you were just as turned on as he was.

You do it a few more times, rubbing back and forth with increasing pressure until James makes a pained noise that has you stopping altogether and checking in on him.

He’s looking everywhere but at you, as he apologises, “Sorry, it’s just these trousers are tight and rubbing me painfully”.

“You could just take them off”, you say once again, not thinking before you speak. James looks at you with dramatically wide eyes as he, too, realised what you’d just said. Quickly, you clarified, “I’m not saying that to have sex or anything; I just mean, we could kinda carry on doing what we are doing, but if your trousers are hurting, then just in your boxers”.

You’re surprised by his automatic response of a nod, yes, his arousal blocking all thoughts of Lily as he begins to undo his belt easily. Rising onto your knees to give him room, he pushed the offending material until his thighs were bare and his plaid boxers were on display, barely containing his length. Not wanting him to feel exposed, you lowered yourself once more, and both groaned at the contact, yours at a higher pitch as you could feel the entire outline of his cock against your cunt.

James was bigger than you’d thought and was currently pointing down his left thigh, so you angled your hips in this direction. Tilting your hips forward slightly, your clit grazed along his shaft, causing a hitch in your breath as it caused pleasure to pool in your abdomen, moisture slickening your hole with each movement.

You’re breathing just as heavily as he is, lips still moving against each other, exploring, tasting, needing more. You were kind of proud of him when he moved his face down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses and causing more pleasure to pulse through you. You were half tempted to rise onto your knees again to show him the evidence of your arousal that had soaked through your panties and onto his boxers, but you didn’t want it to stop.

As your fingers delved into his messy black hair to hold his face closer, he thrust his hips up against yours to add to his stimulation. He was still apprehensive, so he didn’t push too hard, but he rocked back and forth until his tip was pressed against your clothed folds. The muscular thighs beneath yours tensed with each thrust, the muscles defined from all his years of playing quidditch.

His hands remained in place, one on the opposite side of your jaw to where his mouth still kissed, and the other hand helped to move your hips back and forth in time with his own ruts. You’d never actually gotten off like this with anyone before. Usually, underwear would be removed at this point, and more direct contact could occur, but it was still exciting to have some barriers between you. The lace of your underwear was quite rough against your most sensitive area, especially your engorged throbbing clit. You were sure to be sore afterwards, especially with the amount of pressure you were rubbing against each other; with each passing second, the need to find completion made you both desperate.

As his lips found yours again, his tongue began to delve and explore the hollow of your mouth, along your palate and even over your teeth; your pussy began to clench, fire blooming in your core with the impending release.

Pulling back, your fingers moved to rest on his shoulders to hold on tighter as you quickly moaned, “Please don’t stop; I’m going to cum”.

James moaned huskily, out of breath, but both of his hands were now on your hips, moving both his hips and yours faster to find his orgasm. Resting your forehead on his, you both shared the same area, still tasting the other in your mouths, sweat beginning to coat your faces. You were sure you could feel his own wet patch against your arse cheek from where precum was dribbling from his tip and staining his underwear. 

“Ah, fuck- James!” your head tilts back as you finally orgasm, thighs shaking and pussy fluttering around nothing. However, just as you were beginning to come down from your pleasurable high, James suddenly grabbed you painfully, both arms wrapping around your waist as he sat up further on the chair, nearly knocking you off of him if it wasn't for his grip around your midsection. Reassuringly your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his face nuzzled into your chest, his body shivering as thick spurts of cum soaked his boxers.

His moans were like music to your ears and sounded slightly pathetic, making you cling to him more, attempting to run your fingers through his hair to calm the crazy style, but to no avail. Your pussy felt like it was on fire due to the rough stimulation and the untouched orgasm, but it felt so good you savoured the sensation for a few minutes whilst trying to catch your breath.

“There you go, Potter. Not only have you kissed a girl for the first time, but you’ve also made her cum”.

James laughs, loosening his grip slightly to look up at you, but then you both hear the worst noise imaginable: voices from a few floors below, especially those of Sirius and Remus. You scrambled to your feet, straightening your clothes and sitting back in your chair, picking up the book and opening it to a random page as James pulled up his trousers, both of you ignoring the bodily juices completely.

James just about had his feet back on the footstool before Sirius and Remus walked in, but both immediately halted and looked between you and James. It was Sirius who spoke first, eyes squinting in accusation, “Why do you both look so guilty right now? What did you do?”

[st4rbwrry]

𝓢𝓐𝓣𝓞𝓡𝓤’𝓢 𝓖𝓘𝓡𝓛.    satoru gojo.

ᰔᩚ warnings. 5.2k, fem!reader, professor!satoru x college student!reader, classroom sex cs duh, reader’s 23! & satoru’s 30!, oral ꒰ f + m ꒱, titty sucking, biting, size kink, voice kink, sub / dom dynamic, fingering, choking, spanking, lotssss of dirty talk omgie, multiple orgasms, pet names ꒰ lil’ girl (literally just a taunt), pretty, baby ꒱, roughhhhh sex ona desk, minors aren’t welcomed! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated. ♡

꒰ mocha’s note ! ꒱ : got inspired by miller’s girl and wrote this in literally five hours. so, happy bday daddy. <3

he always knew there was something wrong with you. how could there not be? one, you’re deadly in the eyes. that he solidified the first day. always looking at him like you wanted to eat him. two, you're a mythical deity. stunning. you could be born in a different world for all he knew. sometimes he hated those voices that told him to stare at you. watch you watch him. velvet red hair cut in layers that reach the middle of your back. dermal piercing a few inches below your right eye, multiple on your ears, septum ring in your nose. your eyes are slanted like a cat, fluffy lashes enhance your features. your lips always look soft, darkly lined, and topped with a sheen of gloss. 

most days you dressed according to weather, or really whatever you felt comfortable in. yesterday, when going over the topic for an essay he wanted everyone to have written and turned in before spring break hit, you were different. just tuesday you were wearing oversized men’s jorts with a basketball jersey tied up to your back. now, when you walked into his classroom with less clothing than he’s ever seen you in, he had to question it. you looked nice. it wasn’t any of his business, maybe you could be going out later with friends. it’s not his business. 

what was his business was how you strutted up to his desk after you waited for every student to exit class. satoru sat in his leather chair, legs sprawled and hands clasped together in front of him as he leaned back into his seat. his eyes absentmindedly trail up and down your body full of curves and soft, ample skin. the tattoos on various areas of your body are more evident. the black prescription glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose as you chew your gum and hand over your essay. those short ass white ruffled shorts and a yellow crop top, without a bra, with green accents and black font that read ‘soulaan’ in the middle a distraction.

“hi, ꒰♡꒱. you’re always one of the few people who turn in their work early.” 

“what can i say, i was very passionate about this essay,” you twirl your finger within your necklace, scanning his entire face with flirtation. satoru hums, pretending not to notice. “i really put my entire soul into it, so please take your time reading it. it’ll mean a lot.” 

“must’ve been a really interesting dream of yours.” 

“you have no idea.” 

and you were fucking right. that night satoru went home and started his usual routine of getting comfortable, making dinner, and brewing some coffee so he’s wide awake to read over thirty student essays. luckily, he didn’t ask for much. they were given two options. their goal was to describe the perception of dreams or in detail, write a tragic fantasy story. most of the essays he read felt like middle school writing, frustratingly rubbing his temples as he graded multiple papers, trying to figure out why basic comprehension skills were lacking, even doubting himself as a teacher. he tries not to stay up for hours, flipping through papers and scribbling—until he sees your name on the corner. 

satoru sniffles, taking a sip of his coffee before he’s getting comfortable in his chair, sinking into it and beginning to read what you wrote about. you’ve always had a way with words, great formatting, expansive dictionary. when reading your dream, it felt like a real novel, like he was a part of it. then, he felt really a part of it, to a point where it was uncomfortable. the story has to do with a woman who aches for an intimate union with her lover, yet he’s withholding her pleasure, leaving her trembling on the precipice of desire in their lover's den. the greek god you describe as your lover is dominating. stunning facial features, starlight hair, and crystal blue eyes. the woman is feeble, urging him to see her, to yearn for her, to become one with her. abandoning her needs for his personal endeavors. 

with gentle touches that linger on the softness of her plush thighs, smoothing along her brown skin shining under the moonlight, she results in the sensual act of pleasuring herself. the help of her lover is nowhere to be found in the darkness where her body laid on milk-toned, silk sheets. leaving her to pursue the cavern flowing with burning, hot arousal. she finds herself daydreaming of what could’ve been as her delicate fingers find themselves sinking between her precious legs. trailing another hand to her throat which she clutches tight as if it were his. rolling her hips into her hand to grind on as if he were entering himself into her. dulcet whimpers escaping her throat as her body arches off the bed in ecstasy, mind swirling with pleasurable emotions and unforeseen desires. rocking her body upon the bed as if his heavy, big body hovered over her and lost himself in her. spanking herself as if it were him. chewing on her lower lip as if he were gnawing at them. orgasming with tiny whimpers and sobs as if he were the cause. him, him, him. . . 

the heat encasing satoru’s face could only sum up one feeling; arousal. the essay goes on for so much longer, conjuring up unwanted fantasies of a woman he promised to push back into the furthest parts of his brain. you were altering his mind. it was clear as day exactly who you wrote this for and about. him. what you wanted from him, the longing ache to have him. it’s enough to give him a migraine, cutting off his desk lamp before forcing himself to take a very cold shower. those words replay in his mind, the image becoming erotically more vivid. picturing your body atop of silk sheets where you’d fuck yourself out of pity. is that how he’s making you feel? edged? unsatisfied? whimpering in your loneliness? he’d never do that to you. 

satoru hates himself for needing to handle the painful hard on he’d gotten, head buried under the stream of water as his fist twists roughly around his aching dick, grunting at any image of your face coming to mind. it was a highly inappropriate thing to do. a professor and his student sleeping together? it’s all too cliche. you were a grown ass woman, so if teasing him by switching up how you dressed to purposely gain his attention, and writing erotic pornography was your way of showing him you needed him for one act, one day, one night of nasty ass sex . . what were he to do? you are a beautiful woman, and he’s always felt a source of attraction to you, but you weren’t worth jeopardizing his career for. it’d have to wait. 

the last day before spring break came and he was ready to confront you about your so-called ‘essay’. when he notices you walking into class, he tries to avoid staring at your attire; a really short black pleated skirt with a matching ed hardy tank top and glossy mary jane’s on your feet. gulping and keeping his focus on your eyes as he whispers, “stay after class. i need to talk to you.” 

you try to hide the smirk wanting to display upon your face, winking at him before nodding and finding your seat. class seems exceptionally longer today, finding yourself dozing off for most parts, shutting off your brain by doodling into your journal or making a grocery list for this weekend. pulling a sweet treat from your purse, you find a pink lollipop to distract yourself with, oral fixation getting to you. satoru almost chokes on his words when he catches you swirling your tongue mindlessly around your candy, being a fucking brat in his eyes. gently kicking your feet and resting your chin in your hand to keep yourself from sleeping. 

when the lecture ended, that’s when your heart began to race in excitement, and maybe a sheer sense of nervousness. curious to hear what he was going to say to you. making your way down the steep stairs of the class, you sit in the front row, plopping into a chair and crossing your legs as you look up at him, watching him say his final goodbyes as the class completely clears out. half of the campus was empty considering most students began making their way home, so really only fifteen students showed their faces today. 

satoru’s shoulders roll as he sighs, folding his arms in front of him. “so, ꒰♡꒱. . . i read your essay.” 

“uh huh, what’d you think?” you smile. 

“it's definitely something. very good writing, never doubted you on that. but, i do have some questions.” 

you snap your fingers before pointing them his way like a gun. “shoot!”

“you remember the topic of discussion, correct?” 

“wrote it down in bold,” you nod. 

“right, but, i think we went far off topic. as in, inappropriately.” 

“what are we, in high school?” you scoff. “i’ve read worse. i used to grade papers for teachers.” 

“i understand that. but it’s evidently not what i meant as far as the topic goes. in this dream of yours, the two characters are . .” he pauses, trying to figure out what to say. 

“fucking,” you finish for him, still sucking on your lollipop. 

satoru’s gaze flew there momentarily before finding your eyes again. “having intercourse, yes. i’m just having a hard time comprehending what you wrote.”

“why is that?” 

“how is it considered a tragedy?” 

“well, the woman couldn’t have what she wanted in the end. she was edged, given false hope from promises that were made to her. pleading for any form of gratification. why, as a man, deny your lover of acts that forever bonds their love?” 

you bat your lashes, eyes going wide as you word it so . . dreadfully. satoru inhales, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he squints at you. 

“so, she killed herself in the end, because she wasn’t gratified?” 

“as implied, yes. the pain of a woman, you’d never understand. it’s unbearable. feels like death, satoru,” a pained sigh emits from you as you hold your heart and shake your head. “ugh.” 

“꒰♡꒱,” satoru blinks, your games becoming unfunny. “was this dream something you recalled, or are you trying to imply something?” 

“dreams can’t always exist, unless you persuade yourself to make it real,” you respond firmly, making yourself as clear as you possibly can. 

“do you want it to be real?” 

“do you?” you counter. 

satoru pokes his inner cheek with his tongue, turning his attention away. “i-i can’t answer that.” 

“why not?”

“it’s just . . not in my position to answer that. it’s inappropriate.” 

“but, you felt it, right?” your voice grows softer.

he looks at you. “felt what?” 

“our attraction to each other,” your head slowly tilts to the side, eyeing him up and down, watching him slightly shift. “through that essay. what i want from you, what you’ve been wanting from me, professor satoru.” 

his jaw stiffens. “you’re essentially crossing a line.” 

“the only thing i’m crossing are my legs,” a loud pop! rings as you remove the lollipop from your mouth, looking at it before deciding to crack it in your mouth and tossing the white stick somewhere in the room. satoru’s fists clench whilst he admires your glistening legs. “you want them . . un-crossed? open?” 

“꒰♡꒱.” 

“mhm,” you moan after hearing your name desperately fall from his lips. he didn’t mean for it to sound that way, sucking in his breath as your fingers trail within your plush inner thighs. “it’s wet, professor satoru. see.” 

next, you spread your legs apart, lifting your skirt up some more so satoru can easily see the imprint of your cunt against the red fabric of your cotton panties, wetness sealing and sticking to you. 

satoru clears his throat, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck with a rough grunt, trying to contain himself from acting on his obvious desires. his polished loafers click amongst the tile as he strides quickly towards the classroom door, locking it and pulling the shade down so there would be no interruptions. he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he shouldn’t even react this quickly in fact. but he’s been pent up ever since last night, having such a hard time sleeping. only the thought of you glimmering in his mind. 

satoru takes a deep breath with shut eyes, hands sliding back into his slacks pockets as he leans against the desk, one foot crossed over the other, those once daydream blue eyes now staring maliciously in your direction. you bite your lip, slowly rising from your seat to strut towards him, hips swaying salaciously. 

your body brushes amongst his seductively slow, tits grazing his chest and arms that are tightly fitted into his baby blue button down, lips coming up to graze over his clenched jawline. your hand trails up his left arm, feeling the hair on his skin rise as your nails brush along his neck where a vein throbs violently, blood rushing. 

“don’t be so scared, i don’t bite. and i don’t tell.” 

in a swift move, you're hiking your body on top of the mahogany wood desk, kicking off your shoes and planting your feet flat on the surface, legs spread wide to allow him to slot himself between you. satoru’s vision remains unchanged, still staring at the seat you once resided in as he breathed heavily. your manicured foot skims up and down his strong arm, your short, bubblegum acrylics sliding into your mouth as you lewdly suck on your own fingers while mewling. satoru can see you in his peripheral vision, your hips shifting dauntingly, just waiting for him to react. 

“you already locked the door, what are you waiting for?” 

“for you to say it.” 

you grin. “say what, baby?” 

satoru scoffs, shifting in his spot from the sudden pet name, dick uncomfortably hard. “that you want me to fuck you, ꒰♡꒱. i need to hear it.” 

okay, you get it. lowering your leg from touching him, you go to grab his hand instead, the expensive watch on his wrist cold to touch as you guide him to touch the top of your thigh. “want you to fuck me like you've been needing to, satoru. please.” 

an unexplainable breath of air releases from him as he finally faces you, and seeing you spread along his desk like this felt like a hallucination. most of this didn’t feel real. maybe he was still sleeping? and if that was the case, there were no rules. his towering body slots between your thighs, glaring down at you possessively as he smoothes both his veiny hands up and down your thighs, tightening at your hips before sliding back up. going back down to apply pressure to your ass, then lowering his head to your pretty face. 

“gimme your mouth,” satoru rasps, clutching your neck to pull your face up before you oblige and lean in for a kiss first to feed his hunger. 

satoru grunts in your mouth, soft lips molding with your own in a passionate kiss. it’s slow, sucking on each other's lips before you’re sucking and moaning on his thick tongue, moaning into his mouth while he pants into yours. you suck on his lips, turning your head slightly to deepen the kiss, unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to feel the heat from his skin. then goes his belt, unraveling it along with pulling down his zipper, and that causes satoru to get aggressive with his mouth. kissing so rough it makes your pussy throb. 

“you taste so good, pretty,” he moans in between, turning your neck to the side to latch his lips and tongue on the flesh, your eyes rolling back as he found your sensitive spot. you gasp from the whimper he emits as he does it. 

“f-fuck,” you whimper, gripping his wrist as he suddenly sinks his teeth delicately into your skin, soothing it with a rough, slow swiped of his tongue before ending it with a kiss. 

he’s traveling to the other side to do the same, your hips rocking on the desk to try to get closer to him, his bulge only grazing your soaked pussy. you lift your hips and scoot closer, balancing yourself by gripping onto his shoulders to drag yourself against the outline of his dick. satoru moans from the motion, locking his right hand under your left thigh to raise higher so he could grind against you like you whimpered for, dry humping you as he continues to kiss you.  

soon, he’s lifting your top over your tits, eyeing them as they sit on your chest, barbells pierced into the dark skin of your nipples. it created a visceral response from him, shifting his hips to grind against you harder as if he’s fucking you slow, cocking his head to latch his full mouth around your tits. your head falls back as he pulls them into his mouth greedily, dropping your hips on him mindlessly. 

“satoru, you’re g’na make me cum too soon,” you whine into his ear, but he ignores you completely, almost growling like a dominant animal in heat as he locks you close. 

“g’na cum a few times fuckin’ me, so get over it,” he mumbles after releasing your tit with a lewd pop, switching his mouth to drop his tongue and enclose his lips over the other, tongue flicking with his hands slamming against the side of your ass falling bare of your skirt. 

satoru hisses a deep ‘fuck’ as you rotate your hips quicker, humping him like a bunny, an orgasm in fact happening. satoru picks up his pace, rolling his hips forward to match your rhythm, his eyes sparkling from your desperation. he’s leaking precum, and your slickness is drenching his briefs. 

“mgh, baby—fuck,” your tongue lolls out to lick and suck at the shell of his ear, biting gently on his earlobe as your knees buckle and you whimper while grabbing at his backside to pull him indefinitely closer. 

“lemme taste that shit,” satoru’s almost begging, your heavy breathing by his ear and inability to stop moving your hips fucking him up. he knows you taste as good as you look. 

you grip the edges of the desk as you nod, legs shakily raising as he roughly pulls your victoria’s secret thong with a blinged hemline off to finally see his other girl, lowering to his knees in worship. 

“she’s pretty as hell,” he whispers with an erotically drawn-out moan, licking his lips before he leaves open-mouthed kisses at your inner thighs, holding yourself open for him. he spanks your thigh hard, the hit making you squeak and stare at him with a stretched jaw and furrowed brows. “where’s that thank you, lil’ girl?”

“t-thank you, baby.” 

“mhm, that’s right,” now his lips are latching onto your sluice clit, hungry eyes piercing into your every emotion as you whimper pathetically and maintain eye contact you’re sure he wants. “fuck yes, baby. so fuckin’ good, girl. rock on my face.” 

sinking your teeth into your lips which you’re sure were bitten red and nearly chapped, you comply, gripping tight on the desk while your other hand tangles into tresses of white, swallowing and lifting your hips just like you were doing a few minutes ago. satoru’s thumbs are embedded into either side of your thighs, using only your pelvic muscle to shift into his mouth, his fat tongue hot on your pussy. 

“tongue so good, baby. nng,” your face scrunched up as he growls into your cunt, your inner thighs shaking when he slicks his face up and down your pussy, juices covering his chin. “right there, right there!” 

satoru keeps his mouth where you want it, focusing mostly on your engorged clit pulsating on his tongue, digging into and occasionally capturing it with his lips, his salvia drooling onto you as he moans, his eyes scrolling as you tug at his hair. 

“oooooo, fuck, yessss,” you didn’t mean to scream, but his attention on your clit gets distracted by his thick fingers sliding into your hole, twisting and thrusting two of them simultaneously. his jaw shifts quick, kissing and licking while he fucks you open. “ ‘t-toruuuhh.” 

“unh huh,” satoru continues to swallow you. “gimme that fuckin’ cream, baby. i want it all in my mouth. make me proud. atta girl.” 

you cry out, stomach heaving. “i love when you talk like that.” 

his fingers pull out to quickly spank your clit, your hips stuttering as he’s slipping them back in, pumping three to four times before taking them out again and spanking your clit again. “that’s what you like?” 

“y-yessss!” 

“fuckin’ sexy ass girl,” he spanks your outer thigh with vigor, coming to grab your throat once again, giving you a chaste kiss while he finger fucks you faster. “ain’t you? fuckin’ let me know. scream that shit out loud.” 

“i amm, ugh—god . . pleaseeee.” 

“go ‘head and cum, c’mon. gotta paint my dick pretty with it, yeah?”

“oh . . my . . g-goddd,” the way he talks to you makes you dizzy, and it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. his mouth is filthy, and when you cum hard for the second time, he makes sure you suck on his fingers to taste yourself. wrapping your lips around them to suck them clean before satoru’s sticking out his tongue to rush over your mouth along with his fingers, pulling them into his mouth to suck after. 

your eyes are drooped, feeling so fucked out without actually having him fuck you yet. who would’ve expected your professor to be this . . nasty? it’s like he’s been waiting for you to speak up so he can fulfill his own disgusting fantasies. safe to say, you made a good choice. 

satoru’s standing back to his full height, which never fails to make you ditzy from the size difference. you feel so small on this desk under him. 

“c’mere, move up all the way,” he’s now guiding you to turn your back to him, which makes you pout since you wanted to face him. he chuckles deeply at the audible disapproval, swatting your ass. “you’ll still see my face, greedy. be patient.” 

he positioned you on your knees on top of the desk facing a dusty chalkboard, spread eagle and hands pinned behind your back, almost curled up into a fetal position with your tits to your knees. satoru swallows, your pretty red hair falling angelically around your soft features as you wait for him to fuck you. his dick is throbbing in his fist he’s pumping it into, the shlick shlick noise leaving you anticipated as he uses your arousal as lube. he’s aligning the tip with your opening, teasingly rubbing the head up and down, the vein on the underside of his heavy dick throbbing. 

his other hand is keeping you pinned down at your hip, also lifting the flesh of your ass so he can slide into you. he’s pushing forward, choking on a moan the deeper he gets. you’re real tight, it being slightly difficult to push fully into you. words like ‘relax’ and ‘breathe baby’ utters painfully from satoru as he tries not to lose his shit at the sight of your pussy literally gripping his dick to pull back in after he slightly shifts back. when he’s halfway in, leaving the hand on your hip, he uses the other you lock your wrists behind your back, gyrating his hips to cock back and grind into you. 

“ooo, f-fuck,” you whimper, hands wiggling in his grasp, nails managing to scratch his arm. satoru watches the flesh of your ass bounce with every deep, slow thrust, pussy squelching. 

“see? look at the shit,” satoru comments to himself, knitting his brows together in fascination. “told ya’ it’d make it pretty,” 

“can’t see it,” you whimper, upset. 

“you can feel it, right? it’s stretchin’ that pretty girl open,” satoru moans gruffly, moving himself closer so his sharp hips hit your ass with every movement. he’s getting rougher, your skin nearly bruising from his hot touches, the bangles on your wrist clinking with each thrust. 

“i feel it,” you hiss, stomach caving in. “bet s’so pretty.”

“yeah? promise to give it a taste after?” 

“yeah,” you nod slowly, eyes tightly shut. “y-yeah. will, ‘toru.” 

“good girl.” 

gasps fill the air when he fucks you harder, balls slapping against your sticky clit as your ass recoils and claps back onto his abdomen. he’s got a deadlock on your posture, satoru’s face completely serious as he fucks you so, so rough. his sounds are animalistic compared to your own; whiny and soft. coughing out moans as you heave against the desk creating a spot of condescension. he’s so big hovering over you, bending you underneath him, papers falling off the desk while he rutted into you. skin clapping, moans synchronized, and sweat dripping. it’s the hottest fucking scene. 

“takin’ me so deep, baby. this shit feels so fuckin’ . . good, god,” satoru’s voice breaks, hitting you ass with a dirty grunt. “ungh, fuckin this pussy g’na get me in trouble.” 

“i n-need you,” you fight to break free from his grip, flipping your hair over to one side of your face as you sit up after he releases his grasp. “closer.” 

taking the initiative, you go to stand on your feet, back pressing to his chest as he clasps your throat, standing on your tiptoes to rotate and grind your ass back on his dick, stuffing you so full you feel it in your tummy.  

“that’s my girl,” satoru’s kissing your earlobe, pressing his cheek onto the side of your face as the two of you controlled your breathing together. “it’s your dick, take it. fuck that pussy how you want. i’m your fuckin’ toy.” 

“ssshit,” sucking your lips inwardly, you keep your hand on satoru’s wrist while your arm slings behind his neck to balance yourself, the ridges of veins on his dick scratching all the good, achy parts. 

“c’mon, girl, got me waitin’ too long,” without incoming, satoru spanks your thigh, hips thrusting steadily. “if you g’na fuck me, do it right.” 

you try to keep your composure, but the sultry, deep baritone of his voice directly by your ear makes your waist stutter, that warm, bubbly feeling swarming in your tummy. his mouth is back on your neck, and that activates you quick, sobbing and clapping your ass back needily. the mutual desperation to cum is at an all-time high. 

“there we go, t-there we go, girl. that’s what i wanted. s’good,” satoru’s gorgeous eyes cast white, jaw dropping as he grunts, holding your waist just to hold you, allowing you to handle it. “ungh, fuck. keep fuckin’ back.” 

the burn in your legs prolongs as you sway your hips and fuck back on him, his grip on you keeping you balanced to give you enough space to move how you want. this dick is slick with your cum, a ring of cream covering it as you cry and push all your weight back so you're feeling every inch while he's experiencing every tight clench.

“ ‘toru, i—” your words are cut off by an interrupted orgasm, cumming yet again as you greedily roll your ass back with weak cries. your legs feel staticky, almost falling down before satoru makes sure to lock his forearm around your stomach. 

“ ‘toru needs t’ cum too.” 

interlocking his right hand with yours, the two of you hold hands as he lays it on your thigh, bringing your head back to rest on his shoulder with a hand grasping your throat tight, nearly cutting your airways. he’s getting . . mad? nothing satisfies him more than to know he’s made a woman cum multiple times in one session, but when he gets as horny and fucked out as he was now? it wasn’t a good idea to leave him without one orgasm. and he can definitely give you more than just one. he wanted to show you that, you deserved that. 

satoru begins to pull his hips back, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips to let you know he still cares and will comfort you after. just needs a few minutes of shutting off that part of his brain to fuck himself dumb. your pussy clenches and pulsates sloppily on his dick as he fucks you harder than he has before, the breath knocking out of your throat while he squeezes his eyes shut and pounds assertively. they’re neither fast nor slow, just steady and rough. like he’s been needing it so damn bad. the warmth of you getting him out of character, the scent of your perfume enveloping him. the conditioner in your soft, red velvet hair. the tattoos inked into your brown skin, the piercings on your ears and face. your fogged-up glasses, courtesy to him. the unexplainable pleasure he derives off of hearing you whimper ‘toru, toru, toru’. 

who knows what kind of fucking spell you put on him. he just knows he’ll never, ever erase today from his memory. it’ll play like a tantalizing loop. tears threaten to fall from your eyes, cunt going sore from his brutal pivots, falling back weakly into his strong body and gasping from every deliciously deep, thrust. satoru kisses at your face, lashes kissing your cheekbones, trying your best to look up at him. and when you do, you can see he’s utterly gone. the groans emanating, feral growls, and pinball white eyeballs that couldn’t stop scrolling into the back of his head. you watch him mumble your name while spewing expletives, pink lips wide as his whimpers and moans break apart.

“fuck!” he bellows, moving your bodies back towards the desk as he pins you down flat and fucks your ass back onto him, that pressure tugging at him. he's pressing the side of his cheek with yours, breathing heavily while gripping your jaw and dropping his weight on your backside. “fuck, fuck. fuck.” 

“ ‘toru, please cum for me, baby. w’na taste you so bad.”

and he does, as soon as you say his goddamn name like that again, that vanilla voice of yours, seductive yet sweet, coaxing him to cum. 

“knees, baby. suck me,” satoru heaves in a high pitch.

hurriedly, you twist your body to crouch below him, palm wrapping around his dick, satoru’s hand taking strands of your hair to make a ponytail on the back of your head to bob your head to suck him, hips stuttering and his lips damn near quivering. your cheeks hollow inwards as you swallow him in your throat, satoru guiding your head as he shoots his cum hot in your mouth. you moan around him, staring up at him through your dark falsies to be rewarded with the beautiful sight of his snow white hair shielding his face, blue eyes glowing as he looks at you with a genuine laugh. 

pulling your head back, you wipe your mouth slowly with the back of your hand, satoru’s dick twitching midair, semi-hard. he holds both palms out, waiting for you to grab him so he can pull you up. you take them, and he brings your chest to his. 

“fuck, you’ve got me spent,” his hands are now on either side of your face, locking his lips with yours once more. “so damn good.” 

“mhm,” you blink with a goofy smile, pulling your shirt down and smoothing your hair. kissing his face, you wipe your lipgloss off any part of his skin. “so, same time after break?” 

© 𝑠𝑡4𝑟𝑏𝑤𝑟𝑟𝑦 . all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life.♡

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

Orcs who can’t reproduce on their own as they’re a mono-sex species. There’s no real concept of gender in an orc village, and how humans, elves, and minotaur have different gender expectations baffles them. There’s work to be done! Who cares what’s in your pants when there’s chores that need doing!

Reproductively speaking, it does mean that in order to have kids orcs need people from other species will to carry their kids.

Usually this manifests in two ways. 1) members of a village go out into the world, explore, fall in love, and bring their spouse back to their village to start a family (though some won’t return to their village and will just start their family with their new spouse whenever they are). 2) it’s pretty common for a village to offer someone an easy life of being doted on an pampered in return for bearing the next generation of kids with them.

In these villages kids are raised communally, orcs maybe have a guess which kids might share their blood, but it doesn’t matter, all kids are theirs.

It’s a soft free use sort of set up. If you say no or not now it’ll be respected, though you really will be disappointing all those orcs who just want to spoil you and love you and see you round with their kids. Gently being passed around, fawned over, some days your feet never even touch the ground because they insist on just carrying you anywhere you want to go.

You never have to life a finger, constantly attended to, though they’re also so happy to teach you any skills you want! Always wanted to learn to sew clothes? There’s a tailor teaching you and fawning over your messy stitches like it’s the most beautiful thing ever created? The potter shows off the terrible plate you made with pride, just happy that you wanted them to teach you? Blacksmithing? Hunting? Anything you want.

A pampered life where you’re so deeply loved and treasured.

It takes a little time to get used to all the fucking though. They do their best to let you have time to yourself and enjoy being spoiled, but you did promise that they could have you whenever they want. You don’t know the last time you had a night where you weren’t fucked to sleep, taking load after load in your cunt, ass, and mouth from whoever wanted to fuck you until you were so sleepy you couldn’t keep your eyes open. Your last partner still hard inside you and pumping a few more loads while you rested and then cockwarming them all night. Gently being woken up in the morning because they just couldn’t wait any longer and needed to fuck you again or a new partner sliding into easily as you’re still slick with cum and your own juices.

Walking through the village to be tossed over someone’s shoulder and brought home for them to fuck, or if they’re impatient just being bent over the nearest surface and being fucked in the middle of the village.

You’re rarely with one partner at a time. If you’re being fucked publicly several other orcs quickly join in. Even if you’re in your own home or behind closed doors at someone else’s you’re always quickly overheard and more join in.

You’re always kissed and snuggled after, and usually during. They’re very affectionate and just adore everything about you!

Short fic based on this