#Ignore how messy this is I haven't drawn in so long

[evermorethecrow]

Those pinup studies huh

[babyjakes]

lock them out and throw a feast.

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event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | food play

pairing | soft!dark!curtis everett x front-ender!reader

warnings | soft!dark!curtis. non-con. crying. restraints. use of gag. fingering. minimal dialogue (curtis is a quiet guy.) oral (f receiving) with plenty of clit focus. messy food play (a whole bakery's worth of sweets.) forced orgasm. squirting. implied multiple (forced) orgasms. written in 3rd person for some reason. showered!curtis :D

word count | 1,698

an | my snowpiercer knowledge is soooooo rusty i haven't watched the movie in years. this is kind of written in a universe where curtis and his rebellion were able to take over the engine. he picks out a pretty little front-ender as his reward and throws himself a feast... anyway, please ignore any details that might not align with the movie plot. this fic is dedicated to my sweet precious wonderful somny @onsunnyside, she isn't active much these days but of course i wanted to write her a kinkmas piece still, she is so special to me. and i know she loves curtis, so this felt like the perfect opportunity. love you, sonson<33 hope you're well and having happy holidays!

Everything was just the way he ordered it. An empty car all to himself, with both exits locked, dark curtains drawn. Lights dimmed, just bright enough to see through the stilled air. One shining down stronger than the rest in the center of the room, illuminating his long-awaited bounty. His final reward. His feast, fit for a king.

The moment he had laid eyes on her, cowering and weeping as her family's luxury quarters were broken into, he knew she was his endgame. He promised himself he'd have his way with her once he made it to the engine and overthrew the elite. Now that the hard work was done, it was time for him to revel in his victories. And there was no better way to do that, he had decided, than to feed the hunger that had been eating away at him for as long as he could remember.

He stood back in the shadows for the longest time, just taking in the glorious scene before him. Sucking in a strained breath, he pressed a tentative hand over the bulge in his pants. They were new; everything on him was. As his trusted second-in-commands were preparing his private car, Curtis had disappeared to care for himself and his body for the first time in seventeen years. He had a long, tedious shower, taking his time to remove nearly two decades of filth from his tattered body. Once he was clean, he had first choice from an entire car full of clothing- everything brand new. He remained modest with his choices. All the glitz and glam of the elite had no appeal to him.

Taking a step forward, he let his dark brown overcoat fall to the floor, leaving him in the simple gray t-shirt and utility trousers he had claimed earlier. Biting his lip, he pried his hand from his raging hard-on. He would relieve himself, in time. For now, he wanted to savor every moment he spent building up to that release.

Her quiet whimpers were the loudest thing in the room, accompanied by the low rumbling of the train's machinery in the background. Her crystalline tears only made her more beautiful, Curtis thought to himself. There was something so exquisite about her agonized expression; it didn't matter how wrong or cruel this was. He had given it all, risked his life for that damn train. This was his; he had earned it. He would allow himself that.

His men had done a fine job with the setup. She was as captivating as he had dreamt for all those years- no, she was better. Her body sprawled out elegantly over the smooth oak finish of the table below her, tied to the corners by her wrists and ankles, she was nothing more than a piece of meat to be feasted on, a meal to be devoured. And Curtis hadn't had a proper meal in years. The rest of the table's surface was covered in all the sweets and confectionaries his subordinates could find. Ripe fruits, delicate cakes and pastries, bowls of thick chocolates and creams- and to top it all off, his main course had been decorated lavishly to the likings of the delicacies surrounding her. Her most sensitive places had been drizzled and dipped, sprinkled and powdered, making her the most divine-looking creature the man had ever seen.

He took another step forward, surveying her as a vulture would its prey. Her dewy eyes peered up fearfully at him as he slowly approached the side of the table. Voice slightly hoarse from all her crying and struggling, she whined weakly through the thick cloth gag secured snugly between her chocolate-smeared lips.

"Shhhh," Curtis breathed out, the steadiness of his voice and posture such a stark contrast to the girl who lay weeping and bound before him. As he turned to make his way to the end of the table, her bare feet thrashed and kicked uselessly in protest. He simply shook his head at her pitiful displays of defiance. "No use fighting it, sweetheart," he hummed, his voice almost consoling in tone. "You're not going anywhere. Not until I get a good taste of what's mine."

With heedless, eager motions, the man cleared the portion of the table that sat between the girl's trembling legs. As mouth-watering as everything he was pushing aside appeared, his only focus was closing the space between him and the one thing he was truly starving for. Lowering his front down onto the now empty surface, Curtis' greedy eyes trailed up his victim's messy legs, finding the sacred point at which they joined. He drooled at the sight of her perfect cunt as it sat before him on display, dribbles of cream and what appeared to be nervous arousal collecting beneath her rounded ass.

"Mine," he repeated, this time nearing a growl. His rugged hands came up to squeeze at her soft, heavenly thighs, earning tiny squeaks of fear from the poor girl as she shook her head pleadingly- but it was no use. He had her before him now; nothing would come between him and his feast. "This body belongs to me now, angel. Do you understand?" He brought a hand up to push back her mound, exposing her swollen clit and leaky hole to his prying eyes. The confidence he was speaking with was impressive, given the fact that he'd never spoken to a woman like this in his life. But after all he'd lived through, he felt entitled to that sense of authority. He held her life in his hands, quite literally. And he sure as hell was ready to make the most of it.

"This pretty cunt-" he dared to take his words further, his other hand dragging a finger up through the streams of sugary icing coating her thighs to begin prodding at her tiny hole. "-is mine. All mine," he hummed, perfectly happy to be stating these truths to only himself, if his new possession was so insistent on denying them with her angry sobs and harsh glares. She would come around in time; he knew she would. She wouldn't have any choice in the matter.

His finger nudged and teased at the opening a bit more before gently dipping inside, the man's patience wearing thin. At the feeling of her tight, slippery walls doing everything in their power to fight off his intrusion, Curtis wasn't ashamed of the way his cock only grew harder from her unwillingness. He savored the distressed grunts and groans she let out as he forced his digit in up to a first knuckle, then a second. Turning his hand in a fluid motion, he began fucking his finger up into her, groaning lowly at the sight of her quickly growing increasingly responsive to his efforts.

Free-hand momentarily moving back to grab harshly at her hipbone, Curtis licked his lips as his gaze settled in on the tiny nub sitting at the top of the girl's messy slit. Bringing his thumb and pointer finger back down, he forcefully spread her upper lips apart, exposing her poor little button to the cool air of the room. Her legs kicked and struggled as he drew his face in closer, letting out a low groan as the bundle of nerves was finally taken between his parched lips.

The girl let out a howl through her gag, choking on her cries and spit as Curtis worked her aching clit. Closing his eyes, the man savored the feeling of the tiny bump twitching and trembling against his steady suckling. Letting go of any last hesitations, he submitted to eating her fresh cunt like a beast that'd been starved. He paid no mind to being gentle or polite as he latched onto her helpless core, delivering punishing waves of pain and pleasure well outside the realms of her wildest nightmares.

When his lips grew sore from sucking, he switched to dragging his tongue over the pulsating nub, starting with slow, teasing licks before switching to fast, merciless swipes in the blink of an eye. The alternating paces reduced his victim to softer sobs and hiccups, her hips bucking up wildly as her body struggled to tolerate the intense stimulation. And as soon as he'd had enough of the tongue work, he was back to nursing at the poor button, now so puffy and swollen from receiving his undivided attention.

As the girl's thighs shook, Curtis could see something shifting within her. The noises she let out were becoming more desperate, more panicked, with an expression of impending doom appearing on her tear-stained face. At the realization that she was being brought to orgasm against her will, the unrelenting hunger in Curtis' gut only rose. "That's it," he grumbled lowly, her sweet, sticky juices coating his reddened lips. "You're gonna come for me now, babydoll. Come on, give it to me," his face was hardening with determination, his finger thrusting more forcefully up into her fluttering walls as she hurled towards her climax at full speed.

The cry she let out as she finally came was the closest thing Curtis had ever heard to an angel on earth. As the incredible pressure in her tummy finally shattered, her poor clit spasmed helplessly in the man's awaiting mouth. A flood of sweetness sprayed against his scruffy facial hair as she squirted, the sight of her body coming helplessly against his efforts nearly too much for Curtis to bear. Groaning loudly, he coaxed her through the spectacular high. Only when her sobbing turned to weak sniffles did he finally pull away, his darkened eyes trailing up to find her tender face.

As he went to remove his digit from her soaking heat, he could've sworn she almost seemed to cling to him, in a way. He brought the creamy finger up to slip into his eager mouth, the sugary taste of her climax making his head pound with want.

His next words sent her into a fresh fit of tears. "One more," he decided, lowering his head back down to her sticky cunt. One more, he told himself, before he'd finally seek some relief of his own.

[ftmsteveraglan]

big daddy (trans bear william afton x amab reader)

this one goes out to all the trans william enjoyers! i've been in desperate need of both big bear william and trans william, so here i am doing both. also, before anyone says anything, i know matthew lillard is on the skinnier end. this particular version is inspired by the fantastic fanart by keikoyume (not tagging her just in case she's not a fan of that!) because holy FUCK i'm feral for her rendition of him.

contains: dom william, trans bear william, sub reader, seriously the reader is submissive as shit, cunnilingus, under the desk shenanigans, daddy kink, praise kink, size difference, getting caught masturbating

you didn't know what you were getting into when you walked into the office.

it wasn't like you had anywhere else to go. your luck with your last job had run out after you'd cursed out your manager for scheduling you on a day you'd specifically asked to take off for a doctor's appointment. now, desperate with nowhere else to turn to, you'd decided to come to the job counseling office, hoping you'd find a solution.

the secretary called your number, and you jumped up to follow her into the back office. you weren't quite sure what to expect when you got there.

you didn't anticipate the man sitting before you.

even as you entered the room, you could feel his presence dominating the area. sitting before him, he loomed over you, even though he was sitting back in his chair. he had to be at least six feet tall, if not taller. he'd combed back his hair, dark brown and graying at the temples, in an attempt to look professional, but a dark part of you wanted to see how it would look unkempt and messy. he looked like he hadn't shaved in while, with a scruffy, salt and pepper beard on his chin.

no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't ignore was just how big everything about him was. broad shoulders, muscular arms, meaty hands, sizeable paunch; it was like every part of him was built to be domineering. you couldn't help but love just how much bigger he was than you, how strong he looked before you.

the nametag on his desk read "STEVE RAGLAN".

mr. raglan read through the papers in your file, humming as he flicked through the pages. he tsked, shaking his head, and said your name a few times, rolling it on his tongue. piercing eyes gazed through aviator glasses, over the pages, and straight through your soul with a look only a disappointed dad could make.

"care to explain what happened with your last job?" he asked, leaning back in the chair. you swallowed, trying to compose yourself, before talking.

"i cursed out my old manager," you said bluntly. "he scheduled me on a day i'd told him in advance that i needed off for a doctor's appointment. he wouldn't take no for an answer, so i swore at him and walked out."

mr. raglan hummed as he looked down at you over the file. "your previous jobs all have good things to say about you," he said, "but you haven't lasted at them for very long. what's that about?"

"i've been moving," you explained. "i've only now just settled down. i'm looking for something i can do to save up money so i can go back to college."

mr. raglan stayed quiet as he leafed through your file. he looked like he was about to say something, but stopped and raked his gaze over you. you tried not to squirm as his eyes moved down your body. you couldn't tell if he was checking you out or scrutinizing you.

"i might have a job for you," he said, setting your file on the desk. you perked up at the mention of a job, watching him as he got up from his desk and moved to the coffee machine at the back of the office. "want some?" he asked as he poured himself a mug.

"sure, thank you," you said with a nod. mr. raglan poured a second mug, and you took the opportunity to ogle him from where you sat. your eyes were drawn to his thick thighs, and you wondered just how big everything else of his was.

"normally, i'd try to find you a job somewhere else, at a place that fits your qualifications," mr. raglan said as he set your coffee before you. he sat back down in his chair, took a sip, and said, "but i've actually been looking for someone to fill a position around here."

curious, you drank your coffee and listened as he continued. "i'm looking for a personal assistant." with a nonchalant shrug, he explained, "it's nothing complicated, just keeping track of scheduling, sorting paperwork, things like that. pay's alright, $12 an hour." he sighed and said, "but, if you want, i can try to find you something more your speed-"

"i'll take it," you blurted out. mr. raglan looked down at you, one eyebrow raised. his expression looked more intrigued than anything.

"that was quick," he said with an amused smile. "you sure?"

"i'm sure," you nodded. such a job was perfect, both because the pay would be enough for rent with extra to spare and because you'd be able to hang around this mountain of a man just about every day. "when do i start?"

mr. raglan took another drink and sat his mug down on the table, resting his hands on his belly. "how does monday sound?"

you could feel yourself smiling as hopefulness set in. "monday sounds perfect."

that was where your relationship with mr. raglan had started. it started off strictly professional for the first few weeks. he'd shown you the ropes, and before long, you were handling his scheduling with ease. he eased you into further duties, nothing more than you could handle. it was simple busy work, and eventually, you'd established a routine which allowed you to get things done with time left to spare.

at first, mr. raglan was cordial towards you, letting you have your space as you did your job and elaborating on anything you didn't fully understand. however, over time, you swore that his attitude towards you was shifting. maybe his opinion of you had changed. maybe he'd always felt this way towards you, and his mask was slipping. either way, he started behaving differently whenever you were around. sometimes, when putting paperwork in the filing cabinets, you'd feel eyes on you, and when turning around, you'd find him shamelessly watching you, a dark look in his eye. it wasn't anything malicious or angry; it was more akin to a hungry wolf eager to pounce on an unsuspecting rabbit.

it wasn't like you were entirely innocent, either. but then again, who could blame you? mr. raglan was the effortless sort of handsome, the kind where he could simply roll out of bed and still be attractive. you couldn't help but sneak a few glances at him when he wasn't looking, though you were sure he'd caught you on more than one occasion. thankfully, he didn't ever mention it.

the tension between you two hung in the air for a while, the both of you refusing to mention it, until one day when you had to come in early. sundays were usually the day you deep cleaned his office, so you preferred to start the work day an hour earlier. you found it curious that mr. raglan's car was in the parking lot, but you brushed it off. maybe he wanted to get work done earlier, too.

it wasn't until you reached the door to his office that you realized something was up. you didn't know if your ears were deceiving you at first, but you could've sworn you could hear mr. raglan making noise on the other side of the door. the door was too thick for you to fully make out what it was. maybe he was just moving a few things around?

you should've expected what you saw on the other side, but you didn't know how to react when you opened the door to see your boss sitting in his chair with one hand down his boxers, groaning softly, a blissed out look on his face.

startled, you nearly stumbled over yourself trying to back away, closing the door, but mr. raglan had already noticed you there. rather than lashing out, however, he opened his eyes halfway and lazily turned his head over to look at you. his eyes had grown dark with lust, his cheeks flushed with color. as alluring as he looked like this, the last thing you wanted was to get fired because you walked in on your boss jerking off.

"i-i am so sorry, sir," you quickly said as your eye met his. "i'll just-"

to your surprise, mr. raglan didn't seem upset. he just chuckled, shook his head, and said, "no, no, no, come on in, sit down."

unsure of what else to do, you stepped into his office and shut the door behind you. you started moving to one of the filing cabinets, hoping to get started on work, but mr. raglan spoke up, "you don't need to worry about that right now. sit down."

swallowing your nervousness did nothing to quell the simmering in the pit of your stomach as you took your seat in front of him. his soft groaning and the sound of wet squelching from beneath the desk sounded incredibly loud in the morning quiet.

"normally," mr. raglan said, "i take care of this before you come in for your shift." he laughed and said, "i guess i got a little carried away."

you weren't sure how to respond yet. as hot as you found it to walk in on your boss getting off, you didn't want to overstep any boundaries, so you said, "i can just go if you wanna... you know... finish that up."

now, mr. raglan met your eye, and his face filled with that same dark, hungry look he'd been giving you for the past weeks.

"actually," he said, "i could use a little help right about now."

your eyes widened, unable to believe what you were hearing as he said, "don't think that i haven't noticed. i saw the way you were looking at me when we first met, the little looks you've been sneaking. you're not as subtle as you think, sweetheart." the last word dripped from his lips like a snake's venom. "don't act like you don't want this as much as i do."

you weren't about to lie to yourself. rather than try to formulate some excuse, you instead asked, "what do you mean?"

mr. raglan laughed and raised an eyebrow. "i offered you this job for a reason," he said. "i mean, i've been hunting for someone to fill this position, but i couldn't just pass you up."

you couldn't decide if you were more embarrassed or turned on at the realization. either way, you weren't about to let this opportunity slide. "you said you needed help, sir?"

a wolfish grin spread across mr. raglan's face. "just need some help finishing what i started," he said, pushing his rolling chair back from the desk a bit. peering over the desk, you could see that his pants were down below his knees, and a large wet patch had spread over his boxers. he motioned you to come to him, and you nearly tripped over yourself moving around behind the desk with him.

"there we go," mr. raglan cooed. "that's a good boy..."

mr. raglan calling you a good boy in that scratchy voice of his made your stomach do flip flops. he seemed to notice how flustered you were, because he chuckled as he finally pulled down his boxers.

"right down here, that's it," mr. raglan said, spreading his legs apart. you quickly got down on your knees between mr. raglan's legs. you were a little surprised to find that he had a soaking wet pussy rather than a cock, but you weren't put off by it. it just meant changing tactics.

cautiously, you slipped one finger into his folds, then two, pumping them in and out. mr. raglan let out a satisfied sigh above you, relaxing in his chair as you experimentally played with his hole. you moved your other hand up and circled his tdick with your thumb, which made mr. raglan groan and grip onto the arms of his chair. you could feel him getting wetter and wetter under your touch, which filled you with an odd sense of pride.

"does that feel good, sir?" you asked him.

"you don't have to call me sir, baby," mr. raglan chuckled. "no need to be so formal."

an embarrassing idea flashed through your mind, but you figured you had nothing to lose in your position. "can i eat you out? please?"

mr. raglan let out something between a huff and a laugh as he nodded. "go ahead, baby. i'm all yours."

you quickly moved your hands to grip his thighs and dove in, running your tongue up his slit. mr. raglan let out a low, throaty groan and let his head fall back. his breath came in huffs as you lapped at his slit, eager to taste him. you could feel his thighs tensing beneath your grip, hear the squeaking of leather as his fingers dug into his armrest even tighter.

"fuck, you taste so good, daddy," you whimpered as you ate him out. mr. raglan tilted his head down, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd accidentally offended him or said something dumb.

but then, mr. raglan chuckled, something dark and hungry, and moved one hand to sink his fingers into your hair, almost petting you like an obedient dog.

"that's it, sweet boy," he purred, gently scratching your scalp. "eat daddy's pussy for me, that's a good boy..."

his praise only made you even more eager as you went from simply drinking up his slick to tonguefucking him, trying to reach your tongue as deeply as possible into his hole. mr. raglan started to eagerly buck his hips into your mouth. you could just tell that he was getting close. eager to make him cum, you moved your mouth from his hole to his tdick, wrapping your lips around it and sucking hard, making mr. raglan gasp sharply. he swore and cursed under his breath as you ran your tongue along his cock, muttering, "fuck, baby, i'm so close..."

your jaw was starting to ache from working at mr. raglan's pussy, but you didn't care. you wanted to see this much bigger man fall apart on your lips. you moved one hand from his thigh to his hole, eagerly fingering him in time with sucking on his clit. that seemed to do him in, and mr. raglan tugged your hair to bring your face deeper into his pussy as he came, clenching his big thighs around your head.

for a moment, you couldn't breathe, suffocated by his pussy. eventually, his thighs fell away from your head, leaving you free to lift your head and breathe again. you could hear mr. raglan chuckling as he moved his hand from your scalp to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"you did such a good job, baby," he cooed, running his thumb along your cheek. his chuckle grew to a laugh as he said, "you really made a mess of me, didn't you?"

he moved his hand to pat his thigh, motioning for you to climb up. you swiftly got up and straddled his thigh, and mr. raglan leaned in to kiss you, moaning as he tasted himself on your lips.

"looks like you enjoyed this as much as i did," he murmured, bringing his hand down to your crotch to palm your half hard cock through your pants. embarrassed, you turned your head away, but mr. raglan laughed and said, "it's alright, baby. i think it's adorable."

he wrapped one strong arm around you and pulled you in for a half hug. you leaned into the hug, laying against him, resting one hand on his belly as you regained your composure.

"you know," he said, his voice low and husky, "if you help me clean this up, and if you do a good job the rest of your shift, we can keep this going once our shifts are over."

your eyes widened as you looked back to him and stammered, "a-are you sure?"

there was that look in mr. raglan's eyes again, that dark, possessive look, a look that said you'd just walked right into his trap.

"why not, baby?" he asked. "it'll just be the two of us once everyone else goes home."

as much as you knew that a romance with your boss probably wasn't the best idea, there was no way in hell you would turn this down. "god, yes. thank you, sir."

mr. raglan smirked and raised an eyebrow. "i told you, you don't have to call me sir."

your cheeks flushed pink as you realized your mistake. "thank you, daddy."

mr. raglan grinned and gently kissed your cheek, his beard scratching against your skin. "good boy."

[naturepointstheway]

"So who cares if I want to hang out with the lab "weirdo"?" would it be possible for you to write this?

Sooo...ahem. Apparently my fanfic department in my brain went on an extended holiday until now (about time, muses, it's already 2023!)

Anyway, some Tuggoffelees and some mute!Mistoffelees (and anthropomorphic cats edition, like some of my previous fics), with the university setting as in a few fics I'd done with this character set-up. Going with a geology class because a) I've been studying it at uni (doing a Masters in it) and b) I can imagine Misto being drawn in by the beauty of rocks and minerals.

---

If Tugger were to be honest with himself, the only reason he took that undergraduate introductory geology class was because of that cute, mute boy who never said a word in their classes. Jemima had mentioned him before as her new flatmate and how they had become tight besties from day one when he'd moved in over the summer; Mistoffelees--that was his name--was virtually mute but still expressed marvelously. Jemima had constantly gushed about how amazing he was at dancing and how fluid he was at every move, whipping her phone out at one point to show him--and it had been love at first sight. Tugger had been floored by the short videos and had asked if he might be in some of his classes. He was surprised when Jemima had mentioned that he was taking the same advanced performing arts classes as he, for he was positive he would’ve seen him. Nevertheless, Tugger had wasted no time in adding an undergrad geology class when Jemima had mentioned him taking one, though he had little interest in the subject.

He was likely to fail it, but hey, if it meant a chance...

"You're late again, Tugger."

The lead lab demonstrator's hawkish eyes landed on him the moment he stepped through the door, backpack slung over one shoulder, half-open to the point it was a miracle nothing had fallen out on the way.

Tugger leaned his hip against the doorway, winking and grinning at the disapproving demonstrator.

"I'm never late, always right on time."

The demonstrator tutted, rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger in the direction of a table with a lone student sitting there, hunched over his notes and lab book, looking deep in concentration, a rock balanced in one hand. An unopened, unused lab work sat in front of an empty chair next to the student, along with a large box of what looked like rocks.

They all look the same to me.

He glanced at the student, and then stared as he recognised the cute new flatmate of Jemima’s from her video clips and photos.

Tugger was sure that his heart rate was now triple its normal rate. Fate had seemed to favour him today!

Mistoffelees!

Throwing another wink, mouthing "thanks!" at the demonstrator (who had now turned her back on him), Tugger strode to the table, pulling out the empty chair and flopping down in it as dramatically as he could, dropping his backpack carelessly on the floor. The constant thrum of chatter and the occasional thunk from someone dropping a rock on a table didn’t appear to bother Mistoffelees at all.

"Hey," Tugger whispered by way of greeting, as he flipped the lab book in front of him open. "You must be Mistoffelees, huh?"

Mistoffelees paused to glance up for half a second at him then back down at his notes, but nodded in response, in the middle of sketching a careful drawing of the rock in his hand.His sketches looked so carefully done and not messy at all, with arrows drawn and labeled with steady fingers. Tugger caught himself staring at Mistoffelees’ fingers, marveling at how long they were.

He cleared his throat, both to get Mistoffelees’ attention and to snap himself out of it.

"My friend--your flatmate--Jemima has told me alll about you, you know." Tugger leaned back, hands clasped behind his head, completely ignoring the line of annoyance starting to form between Mistoffelees' eyebrows. "She showed me a clip of you dancing--damn. You're fabulous--I haven't seen anyone dance like you do!"

Mistoffelees’ sketching didn’t slow down any, but Tugger could have sworn up and down he saw a tug of a smile at the corner of the other’s mouth, the line between his eyebrows fading a little.

Tugger began flipping through the pages of the lab book, not really paying attention to whatever was written or drawn on the leaves.

“She told me you’re in the same advanced dance performing arts classes as me--but you couldn’t come along? Or...” Tugger caught his eye and winked. “You’re too good for us peasants right?”

Mistoffelees shook his head, a hint of confusion in his eyes.

“I was just kidding,” Tugger assured, but Mistoffelees only looked more confused before shrugging and returning to his work. “I’ll lose but I’m down for a dance off competition with you after class if you came along to them.”

Mistoffelees’ hand jerked, scrawling an unintentional line across a new sketch of a different rock. With a short sigh, he grabbed his eraser and rubbed vigorously at the paper to remove the scrawl. Was it Tugger’s imagination or did Mistoffelees’ shoulders appear more hunched, tensed? Or that his hand had momentarily quivered above the sketch before quickly resuming it like everything was fine?

Catching one of the demonstrators walking pointedly in his direction, Tugger reached forward and pulled his box of sample rocks toward him, picking one up in his hand like he had been studying it all along. It was a dark rock, it felt heavy, and it was...a rock. A short thumbs-up to the demonstrator to show he was definitely working was met with a skeptical look and then a shrug before moving on to someone else asking for help with a question.

Tugger flicked the pages until he found the intro page (so. Much. TEXT.) and began skimming over it, until he found a section explaining deeper about the three broad categories of rocks: sedimentary, igneous, and metamorphic. His mind was wandering too much to really concentrate properly on them, drifting back off to the videos Jemima had shown him of Mistoffelees’ dance prowess. Those fouettes, those jetes, those arabesques! They were just...something else.And that...

That...

Conjuring Turn.

That’s what Jemima had said it was.

And he believed her when she said that the video did zero justice to that level of skill and talent.

A poke just above his elbow jerked him out of the daydream, turning his head see Mistoffelees looking at him with a hint of amusement in the slight upturn of the corners of his mouth.

“Hmm?”

Mistoffelees tapped his pencil against a blank page, where he had written, fave rock? You’re looking at it like it’s the love of your life.

A nervous laugh from Tugger, though it sounded a little strained to his own ears. “Uh, nah, rocks look the same to me.”

Mistoffelees raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as though to ask, really?

“I mean, not literally,” Tugger said, rubbing his thumb over the rock in his hand. “This one is clearly a black rock with, uh...” he pursed his lips, rubbing his chin as he scrutinised what else he could see about it. “Ooh, those are interesting patterns on its surface.”

Mistoffelees smiled, eyes lighting up in such a way it made Tugger’s heart miss about six or seven beats before pounding in his chest to catch up.

Damn. Jemima could’ve warned me how cute he is!

Tugger rubbed his thumb over the shell-like curves on the rock’s surface, feeling its tiny ridges on his skin. He didn’t care for rocks, but he wasn’t going to lie, this was a beautiful specimen.

A pencil tap on his hand drew his attention again to Mistoffelees, who pointed at more things written on the sheet.

Obsidian. Igneous. Minimal crystal growth due to fast cooling of extruded lava.  Conchoidal fracturing (shell-like). Pretty, isn’t it?

Tugger grinned. “It’s pretty, but not as pretty as your eyes right now.”

Mistoffelees’ eyes grew round at his response, pencil slipping from between his fingers as he fumbled with it, looking back down from Tugger after a second or two.

Does he know how his eyes light up with happiness?

He really needed to talk to Jemima about warning him beforehand of the cuteness of her flatmates in future.

“Jemima tells me you love rocks. I never got it but...”

Then why? Were the next two words from Mistoffelees. Why are you here?

Tugger shrugged. “Just needed an extra class, I guess.”

Like he was going to tell Mistoffelees it was just because he wanted to be closer to him. Maybe one day he’ll tell him that, but certainly not right now. He didn’t want to scare Mistoffelees off before the lab was even over.

Tossing the obsidian back into the sample box, Tugger picked up another rock, one that was tan in colour and had a couple very tiny shells in it. It felt sandy against his palm and under his thumb.

“I imagine you know what this one is too?”

He watched Mistoffelees’ hand writing across the page, recalling again how graceful his hands had looked in Jemima’s videos.

Sandstone. Sedimentary. Feldspar and quartz very common in this rock. Formed over millions of years by compaction.

“Oh yeah, quartz,” Tugger recalled from whatever he had skimmed over in the lab book. “Silicon or something, right?”

SiO2.

He also randomly remembered another snatch of information from the previous class.

“Wait...isn’t sandstone the only rock that has fossils?”

Mistoffelees shook his head, before quickly writing again.

Sedimentary rocks, including sandstone. All sedimentary rocks can contain fossils.

Tugger pointed at one of the tiny shells embedded in the rock. “So this dude here is a fossil?”

A nod from Mistoffelees, who was now smiling a little, eyes lighting up again as they had before. Again, Tugger’s heart skipped a beat when they made eye contact--even if it was only for a split second before Mistoffelees quickly looked away and back down at his own work.

He’s so...adorable? Cute? Um? Jemima, we’re gonna talk.

Tugger tried to force his brain to focus on the lab at hand as Mistoffelees pointedly busied himself with answering more lab questions, but it was hard. Hard to focus when it was so sunny outside, when he kept thinking about the dance videos on Jemima’s phone, considering if he should go ahead and ask for Misto’s number after lab, and--

“Ahem.”

A handed padded its way onto the lab-book, drawing his attention up to another girl who he didn’t know, looking intently at him.

“Hey,” she said, jerking a thumb back at her table, “Why’re you hanging out with this weirdo? Wouldn’t you rather sit with us?”

Did she just...call Mistoffelees...a weirdo? What is this, high-school again?

“What’d you call Mistoffelees?”

The girl scoffed. “He’s a weirdo, he never talks, never makes eye contact with you,” 

Tugger remembered Jemima saying that Mistoffelees had autism, and that it was natural for him to avoid eye contact or want some space, and he was also pretty much mute.

“Neurodivergency exists you know,” Tugger said airily, “And who cares if I want to hang out with the lab “weirdo”? It’s not high-school anymore.”

“Really?” the girl looked disappointed. “I thought you’d like--”

“Thanks but no thanks. I’m fine here. He knows lots of cool things about rocks, and he’s my bestie’s flatmate. I don’t think she’d appreciate you calling him names either.”

“Fine, I give up then.”

With that, the girl flounced off back to her own group.

See you never.

He felt Mistoffelees staring at him, the sounds of the pencil scratching on paper having come to a complete silence. When Tugger looked over at him with a wink, the other quickly looked down at his lab book,

“Don’t worry about her--I’ve got your back. As does Jemima.”

Thanks, but you didn’t have to. I’m used to it.

“Doesn’t make it okay, y’know? You’re worth so much more--bet she can’t even tell a fouette from a pirouette. Hell, she’s probably never heard of either of those terms. Kinda sound like pastries now I think about it. French pastries, naturally.”

Now I’m hungry, Mistoffelees wrote.

“You’re welcome.” Tugger winked. “And you’re welcome to sit with me if you ever wanted to come to the advanced dance class too you know. I wouldn’t mind having you for company.”

Thanks. I’ll see.

“Just think about it. It’d be cool to see you there too. I promise not to annoy you...” Tugger added a little laugh before, “Much.”

I’d like to get back to study. Leave me be.

“Oh yeah, course.” Tugger looked back down at the huge blocks of words. To his brain it just seemed like a wall of text. He sorely wished there was a TL;DR summary or something in a box at the bottom of the page.

And, again, his brain wandered back to those dazzling videos.

The fouettes, the pirouettes, the arabesques, the grande plies...

So perfect, so flawless, so...magical. Graceful. Phenomenal. Stunning. Mystical.

I really, really hope I see him in advanced dance class soon...

If all those videos of his dance, the way his eyes shone when “talking” about rocks, and just how adorable he looked...

If this wasn’t love at first sight, well...then Tugger had no clue what that would be instead.

Look out, Jemima, I’ll be talking your ears off asking about Mistoffelees tonight. And about how you should’ve warned me on how cute he is. He is impossibly cute and talented.

He really really hoped more than ever to see him in the next advanced dance class tomorrow afternoon, just so he could see Mistoffelees’ dance moves in real life, and not “just” from videos on Jemima’s phone.

If he’s amazing in her videos, what is he like in real life? Beyond perfect, probably.

And Tugger would no doubt fall even more in love with him.

[protokirby]

Been having real bad insomnia lately and paired with my vast assortment of "you're super tired for no reason" disorders, I have not been going to church or feeling well for the past few weeks but this day I was super determined to go to church even with just 5 hours of sleep. (I'm tired of being tired and I'm tired of missing church)

And I'm really glad I was so determined to go today because I got some advice on something that I had been struggling with spiritually.

Thanking the Lord Jesus for being able to go today :D

Oh and for the folks who like seeing the doodles I draw while at church, I have those too.

They're extra messy than usual because 5 hours of sleep made my art skills extra dull but whatever

Oh first I added the missing wings on a drawing of Reaper from several weeks ago

Also I drew beast au Grusha from memory. He's talking with Ryuki. To be specific, an au Ryuki who's a shapeshifter. Ryuki may look like he's in danger, but this is how these two communicate with each other. They love each other actually. The floaty thingies that levitate near beast Grusha's arms are fun to draw-

Beast au Grusha along with Reaper and the shapeshifter Ryuki are a trio who go on adventures through the multiverse together. It's fun to think of scenarios with them. I failed hard on many of the lines here(as I mentioned. Lack of sleep messed with my art skills for today. No big deal) so ignoring the messy lines, this is cute. Tallest guy of the friend group holding the smallest guy like hamburger

Then I tried to draw Reaper and his Leon(who's still called Leon, but he goes by the name Eclipselon in his gargoyle form). Reaper's Leon gave him a bunny plushie that he always keeps with him at all times. Usually in a "storage dimension" that Reaper keeps stuff in as he's traveling the multiverse but technically that's still with him.

Anyway - I failed so hard on the lines when drawing the Leon that I just- gave up lol

So here's an incomplete drawing I might never finish

Then I tried drawing Drayton. Looks uhhh okay- I guess- considering I'm not good at drawing today.

Also something about drawing characters crossing their arms makes me forget what arms look like. I keep trying though. Someday I will draw crossed arms that look like arms

Then I just decided "hey I should draw creatures the way I would always draw in school" that is... just making lines on the paper wherever the whims go. No plans. Just doodles. That ended up becoming some cool hoofed wolf thing with floaty thingies and wispy thingies. Looks cool imo :D

And last doodle of the day. I wanted to know if I could remember how to draw Zero from megaman x. I haven't drawn him in years. I drew zero from the megaman zero series some, but not this one for a long time. I used to draw this Zero like every day in middle school through high school sooo I guessed I'd remember enough to be recognizable at least

I think I did pretty good with how bad my memory usually is :D

I missed some details and there are several messy lines from ⭐the big tired⭐ but I'm impressed I remembered how to draw him as well as I did

[thegrayascendancy-if]

Uehuheuhe I miss them the babes the blorbos the boos.

If their room/home was on fire, what is the one item they’d run in and save?

And alsooooo have any of them ever been in love? How do they feel about love in general? Both romantic and platonic.

Bye muah I’ll probably be back maybe in even 30 minutes who knows 🏃🏽‍♀️

Then I will nourish and tend to this place to be a blog worthy of the readers' returning 😊

If their room/home was on fire, what is the one item they’d run in and save?

One thing of their personal belongings they would save:

Arthur: a woven bookmark that was a gift from his first tutor, a woman that was incidentally very sweet and lenient on him.

Darla: the doodles of her her sisters have drawn.

Gale: his travel gear.

Ianthe: a carved figurine of a deer she has had since infancy.

Jax: (oh no, they treasure Their Space™ so much, this would devastate them) Jax actually stands a chance to carry out the most, so they would, beginning with their maps and notes as that's where their work went into.

Yvette/Yves: would be so distracted positively fuming that someone had the audacity (they will immediately think it a malicious act), they'd barely have enough mindspace to think they should be saving anything.

And alsooooo have any of them ever been in love? How do they feel about love in general? Both romantic and platonic.

Arthur: despite holding a front of a cynic, he values any pure and honest relationship he can build and maintain. He grew up experiencing genuine parental love, but he has seen and noted that it is not always sunshine and rainbows, so there is no idealization taking place. Love, to him, is about trust, and he can maintain a distance whatever his heart says until a decent level of trust is achieved. He has been infatuated before, but never truly in love.

Darla: she likes to put up a brash exterior that is part of her job, but at the core she finds romance beautiful. It's kind of a push and pull for her, because despite that she sees it a distraction for her work and for her long-term goals, and yet sometimes cannot resist the pull of her own feelings. She has been in love.

Gale: positive examples were scarce, as you might imagine, so he doesn't really concern himself with it. What he faintly recalls is his mother's presence, a warmth to reach towards, but this is the end of it. When he sees it in passers-bys, it's just an amusing moment, the vitality of the world that spins and breathes around him. He hasn't been in love himself.

Ianthe: she is a very sensual person and puts great stock into love in general, easily giving and having no qualms receiving. Yet she doesn't offer or give it out readily or without judgement, Ianthe just has a natural sense of the moment and attunement to the people she's surrounded with. She has been in love.

Jax: they have a pragmatic approach to it, but in no way do they coldly underestimate it. They do not pick apart their own feelings with undue scrutiny, but they prefer to understand where they come from, which requires them to have times of introspection. They have a cautious approach to love, though they haven't loved, only been in love.

Yvette/Yves: Y likes to imagine themselves as someone above feelings in service of a goal, and yet they are ultimately driven by the very feelings they pretend to ignore. In a twisted way what they do is out of love, but they are wounded, so I cannot say with a straight face their concept of love is on level with a textbook one. It is messy and they, even without knowing, are constantly in a fight with themselves over certain decisions. They'd have a hard time saying if they have ever been in love.

[sugako]

after dinner special

bokuto x f!reader x hinata sum: after seeing the way his teammate looks at you, bokuto comes up with a plan to help all parties cw: 18+ only minors dni i am begging you, established relationship (bokuto x reader), slight manipulation (?? reader/bo make a secret plan to seduce hinata and he wants to so not really but idk what else to tag it as), oral (f!receiving), double pussyjob, nipple play, orgasm denial, D/s, spit roast, unprotected, hinabo if you squint extra hard wc: 4.2k a/n: finally back from the dead with this wayyy overdue fic ive been thinking about/writing for months, no edits or beta bc i'm too impatient and haven't posted in so long

Above all else, Bokuto was incredibly perceptive to other’s emotions. Among other aspects, that quality had really drawn you to him even if it wasn’t as extraordinarily overt as his confidence and enthusiasm. His perceptiveness didn’t end with you, of course, he was well-connected with his teammates, which meant when he saw the way Hinata’s eyes just barely glazed over when he met you he knew there was something more happening in his head. He watched the burning grow in Hinata after he had witnessed the two of you had, quite obviously, snuck off to another room during a get-together at Meian’s, spit still drying at the corner of your dry, puffy lips a week prior.

Even he wasn’t sure what exactly his plan was as he started up in the locker room a couple weeks later, oversharing every little detail he could recall about your body, namely when it was under him. Ignoring Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s groans for him to stop while Shugo and Oliver snickered to themselves reminiscing about their own escapades from a handful of years ago, he focused on Hinata’s reaction.

Shōyō remained uncharacteristically quiet as he rambled on about how cute your soft tits were, only speaking to quietly excuse himself to the bathroom. He was careful, but not careful enough to hide the tent in his shorts.

Not one to keep a secret, the words came tumbling from his mouth when he burst into your shared apartment.

“I think Hinata likes you!” He managed, tearing off his shoes to stumble into the hallway to wrap you in a tight hug like he did nearly every day.

“I-...what?” You choke, wrapping a tentative arm back around him and peeling away to look at him in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Not like… I don’t know, I think he wants to fuck you.” The smile on his face doesn’t waver, only confusing you.

“I’m not sure how to take this.” You deadpan, brows just short of knitting together. “Why…?”

“Well if you would like that I certainly wouldn’t mind.” His teeth graze over your skin as he pecks messy kisses all over your cheeks and neck.

“You wouldn’t mind?” You blankly repeat back, holding his back by his muscled shoulders to make him look you in the eyes. “Because not minding something and wanting something are very different and I just want to make sure whatever we’re about to talk about we’re just being really clear.”

Bokuto inhaled a massive breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he collected exactly what he wanted to say to you. Before he could, the smell coming from the kitchen distracted his senses, leaving him to weakly exhale and blink his eyes open. “Talk over dinner?”

The long talk over the dinner table was eventually fruitful. After he collected himself and stuffed his rumbling stomach, Bokuto was better able to explain what he had seen in Hinata. It made you recall every time you had seen him and you would be lying if you said you didn’t see it too. He wasn’t exactly a subtle person.

When it came down to it, you certainly weren’t opposed. Bokuto certainly seemed interested in the prospect of sharing you, especially with his favorite prodigy as he liked to class him. You recognized that Hinata was attractive and you had to admit that the concept of being squished between the two thick, bubbly men was alluring as long as he was truly interested.

Before the full invitation to come over for dinner - specially prepared by you - had even slipped from Bokuto’s mouth, Hinata was eagerly accepting. Part of you dreaded the entire ordeal, anxieties bubbling up about the lead up and the talking beforehand that you had foolishly agreed to do most of. Over dinner you stayed a little quieter than usual, trying to gauge Hinata’s expression and body language.

When he politely excuses himself to use the restroom after finishing, Bokuto grabs your hand across the table, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles.

“If you’re nervous we can stop right here.” He whispers, grinning softly.

You can’t help but smile back, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay,” you assure him, “I am a little nervous, but I really want to.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the sound of the bathroom door closing and the soft pad of Hinata’s feet down the hallway. Clearing your throat, you give a reassuring smile to Bokuto, and stand to face where Hinata soon pops out of.

“Hinata, would you-”

“Shōyō is fine!” He interjects. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“That’s fine,” you smile, ghosting your hand down his arm and resting your palm against his elbow. “Shōyō, would you mind helping me wash up in the kitchen. I feel bad asking the guest, but Kōtarō has something for you and you’ll get to it faster if I finish this.”

Hinata can feel his heart pounding behind his rib cage so hard he worries you can hear his pulse reverberating. You look so sweet with those pleading eyes staring at him, the warm touch of your fingertips sending heat to his chest.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” He nods, letting you lead him a room away to the kitchen.

“Great, thank you, this is such a big help.” You grin while placing the dirty dishes in the sink before you and handing him a dry towel. “You can just dry and put them in the cabinet in front of you.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, eyeing down your low-cut shirt as you squeeze your arms together and lean down to grab the first bowl. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you turn the tap on a little too fast and water splashes all over the front of your thin, pale dress, making the black lacy bra underneath pop.

“Whoops!” You exclaim, smiling a little too happily, feeling how his feet shift beside you. “This tap is a little loose, I always get messy and wet trying to do anything.”

He has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning, glad that your gaze is in the sink and not on his flushed face. He doesn’t want to feel this way about his friend’s girlfriend, but it’s so hard when you’re standing so close - did you take a step toward him? when did your hip start brushing against his? - and you look so pretty.

“So, Shōyō…” you start, handing him another dish, “Kōtarō talks about you a lot, you know.”

“Really?” His voice is pitched and strained, stopping short of choking on his own words.

“Yeah, he thinks you’re great. He was so excited when you joined the team. He, uh, he pays attention, a lot more than some people give him credit for.”

Hinata nods, carefully placing the bowl in the cupboard. “He’s great, I’ve always loved watching him play.”

“He’s fun to watch,” you agree, “You know he thinks….actually, can I just ask what your type is?” The words tumble out quickly as you try to gain confidence, a small bit of worry creeping into the back of your head.

“My type?” He repeats back, pausing in his drying motions. “I don’t know if I really have one. Just anyone I feel good with. Why?” When he turns to look at you again you’re turned to face him, a small smile lighting up your features.

“That’s a good way to look at things. I only ask because, well Kōtarō seems to think you have some kind of interest in me.” You force the words to come out casually, keeping your eyes on him. Hinata sputters and chokes on his own words, the way your hand comes down over his doing absolutely nothing to help him compose himself. “There’s no good way to say this, but he was thinking you could, uh well take what you’ve been thinking about, if you want to.”

Taking a deep swallow, he took a short deep breath to clear his mind. “And what do you think?”

Tension dissipates from your body at his question. “I think I would like you to do whatever you want. Touch me, kiss me, anything. Only if you want to.”

His fists clench and unclench again, gears turning in his head as he realizes this was planned. All those stories Bokuto told, the glint in his eyes for the past few weeks, the way you put yourself on display for him all night with that sly little smirk - it was all part of some plan. A little worried voice in the back of his head told him this was too good to be true. But you were offering yourself up to him, angled forward so your tits would pop and watching him so carefully as though he were a scared animal ready to run, and he knew it had to be true.

The timid, apprehensive look he had been sporting slowly drained from his face, replaced with a much more confident and delighted one. His hands moved from his sides to dig into your waist, lifting you up onto the counter behind you.

“Don’t tease me.” He whispers hoarsely, lips ghosting over the pulse of your throat. The loose dress Bokuto had purposefully picked out for you to wear for the evening rode up as Hinata settled his thick body between your welcoming knees.

“I’m not,” you pant, “Kōtarō really wanted this.”

A shuddered sigh comes from his chest as he rests his head against your shoulder, just barely kissing the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. You fidget restlessly, trying to pull his still body closer to no avail.

“Wanna know he wants this.” He says eventually. “I trust you, I just…”

“No, no, I get it.” You say a little too abruptly, fishing around for where your phone was tossed onto the counter. With shaky hands you hurried to click it open, immediately going to your messages, scrolling to the most recent chat with Bokuto where he depicted how much he wanted to see you fucked out on his and Hinata’s cocks in vivid detail. You push the phone into his hand. “You can scroll wherever, he mentioned it before that one’s just… yeah.”

“Oh, wow.” He breathes, glancing through a few other messages from earlier in the week. Gently, he sets the phone down beside you before pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips collide with the base of your throat knocking the air right from you.

You wind your fingers up in his hair as he pressed harsh kisses straight down your front, his rough hands pushing the skirt of your dress up even higher, leaving the tops of your thighs completely exposed. He keeps journeying lower until his cheek is flush to the hem of your panties. When his nose presses up against the slowly growing damp patch leaking his shoulders heave as though to hold himself back.

“And he doesn’t want us to wait up…?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know completely. Bokuto had asked to make some kind of subtle move on Hinata in private, he figured it would be less stressful for the both of you, but he hadn’t said how far to go with him, and you weren’t really sure what he was doing in some other part of the house, and Hinata’s fingers were so hot against your skin…

“No, it’s fine.” You pant, desperation evident in your voice. He doesn’t need much more, hand moving to pull the stretchy fabric you had purposefully worn to the side, his wide tongue darting out to lap up the wetness seeping from you.

With an aching whine, you lean into his touch, massaging his head and bringing him closer to you with every burning second that passes. Not that you had expected him to be inexperienced by any means, but you hadn’t expected him to be so good. He was loud, moaning against your cunt as he buried his tongue inside of you, nose tapping against your pleading clit.

The sound of your breathy whimpers and the loud slurping squelches drowned out the steps coming down the hall or the kitchen door swinging open. Bokuto stood there for a moment with a small smile, admiring how pretty you looked like this, even if he wished it were him, but he couldn’t let the moment pass him by.

“Puppy,” he sighed. The first syllable was enough to make Hinata pop off of you and stumble back to turn around, eyes hazy and drunken of the taste of you. Ignoring the hardened look in Bokuto’s eyes, you pouted sweetly, spreading your legs a little more to let him see your soiled panties.

“Kōtar-”

“You’re being greedy, don’t you think, puppy? Going ahead without me like that.” He imitates you with a fake pout, the look never quite meeting his blazing eyes. You can feel what’s coming and make no more attempt to argue. Hinata is taking in the interaction, still halfway in his own daze. “She’s great, huh, Shōyō? Pretty little pussy and she makes the best noises, especially when she’s crying for your cock.”

Hinata swallows hard, absentmindedly palming over his pants where he’s quickly grown half-hard. “Yeah, she’s, yeah no, uh she’s really great. This is still okay?”

Both of you nod quickly, reassuring him, but you remain silent for now, trying to settle before you know what’s to come.

“Totally okay as long as you’re okay.” Bokuto drops the edge in his tone to carefully watch him for a moment, assessing.

“Completely.” He agrees with a dreamy sigh.

Nodding again, Bokuto approaches the two of you. Refusing to meet his eyes you stare just ahead at the door.

“Oh, don’t look so sad, puppy, you know you’ll get what you want in the end anyway.” He jabs as he scoops you over his shoulder and gives you a gentle pat on the back of your thighs. “Let’s at least go to the living room.”

You glance back at Hinata, mouthing a silent whoops, while Bokuto leads him around the corner. Bokuto plops into the corner of the couch, back propped up by the plush arm, and maneuvering your pliable body to sit comfortably in his lap with your back pulled up flush to his chest. You’re gently pushed forward so he can peel the dress off and unclasp your bra. He’s calm for now, at least on the outside, but you can feel his heart pounding through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t need these anymore,” he hums, latching his fingers in the sides of your underwear and motioning for you to lift your hips to let him slide them off. Hooking his elbows under your knees, he pulls your thighs to your chest, high enough so that he can palm your breasts. Quietly whining, you turn your head away so you don’t have to look directly up at Hinata - not that he’d notice your face with the way your cunt was glistening under the low, soft lights of the room. “Shh,” he directs at you before glancing back up at Hinata, “go ahead, but don’t let her cum.”

With a warm grin he gets on his knees between Bokuto’s spread legs. You almost felt too exposed, all power taken from your hands, splayed open like this. Bokuto slots his chin against your shoulder and presses the softest kiss to your cheek in stark contrast to the way his rough hands are kneading and pinching your sensitive breasts.

Hinata eagerly gets back to it, lavishing your cunt with softer licks than before, making your hips shake as they seek out more friction. While your neediness grows so too does Bokuto’s grip on you.

“So pretty,” he coos, eyes glued to where Hinata was firmly pressed against you. Pride bloomed in his chest at the sight of his teammate sloppily eating out his favorite girl so enthusiastically, appreciating you so much as he should.

It’s impossible for him to not get rock hard with the way you’re grinding down into his lap and the crude, wet sounds and groans vibrating from the back of Hinata’s throat.

“Taste so good.” Hinata grumbles, pulling back and forcing his tense hips to stop rutting into the couch cushion. He feels himself making a mess in his pants, hoping that he isn’t leaking through to your nice furniture, but he can’t quite bring himself to stop either. Both Bokuto and you watch the string - you’re not sure whether it’s his spit or your own wetness - that stays connected between your slit and his puffy, glossy lips.

“Good...good job.” Bokuto sighs. You’re not sure if he’s praising you or Hinata, but you don’t have much time to think too hard about it before he releases your legs and wedges his hands under between himself and you to pull his straining cock from his pants. Mind buzzing, still a little hazy from the feeling of Hinata’s tongue, you grab out from him, pulling on the band of his pants. Truthfully, he’s not quite sure what you’re asking for but he does know how tight his balls are and how inviting your cunt looks.

Just as Bokuto is settling his cock between your ass, Hinata’s pants are slipped off, thrown to the ground. He dips his head down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, moaning around you and pressing in close so his tip catches against your clit. At your whiny cry and keening, Bokuto lets out a low, single chuckle. “Don’t let her have your cock, not all the way. You were being so greedy earlier puppy, I don’t think you deserve it yet.”

Hinata keeps his mouth firmly planted on your chest and reaches down to perfectly slip himself between the top of your folds, acutely aware of Bokuto’s heavy head just barely bumping against the base of his own cock. They’re both so thick and heavy as they rabidly hump against you, Bokuto maneuvering your body for you back and forth across both of them. Everything is warm and wet between Hinata’s mouth on your chest and Bokuto’s lips kissing down the side of your neck.

The tease of release that’s been creeping up on you for so long draws closer and closer. Hinata’s cock is catching so exactly on your swollen clit and Bokuto’s tip keeps threatening to slip past your entrance, slick dripping past your thighs.

“Gonna, ahg, cu-cum!” You manage out, hips already bouncing on their own accord against them.

“Go ahead.” Bokuto says with a shaky breath, squeezing you as tight as he could between his body and Hinata’s. One more roll of their hips has you crashing down, pleasure rolling through your body. All you can feel is warmth and overwhelming satisfaction as you twitch between their arms, creaming across their cocks. “Good girl, good girl…” you faintly hear Bokuto coo into your ear as you slump back against him.

The buzzing, quiet moment is quickly squashed as he hoists you out of his lap and onto all fours. He’s talking to Hinata and you know you should be listening, but your pussy is still throbbing and you’re trying to catch your breath.

“...okay, baby?” You catch the very end of his sentence and blink hard, desperate to refocus.

“W-wait, what? Sorry, I just-”

“It’s okay, puppy,” he rubs a soothing hand down your back, slowly bringing you back to reality. “Need a second?”

You shake your head, the last of the fog slipping away. Before you, you see Hinata, his rigid cock slicked up by you only a few inches from your face. “I’m okay now, can you just say that again?”

“‘Course,” he grins, teasing your entrance, “I said I’m going to take your pretty pussy from back here and Shōyō is going to use your mouth. If you want.”

Wiggling your hips back to meet his and craning your neck up to look at Hinata you give a deft nod.

“I do, I want that.” You sigh.

Trembling with excitement, already so riled up from feeling you cum against him, Hinata shuffles the last bit forward. He’s pretty and much thicker than you had imagined. The tight strain of scattered veins and his heavy balls tell you all you need to know about how pent up he obviously is. Reaching out with palms still a bit shaky, you helped to reel him in the rest of the way with welcoming, parted lips.

You wrapped your fingers tightly around where you couldn’t quite reach, sloppily taking more and more of him with each bob of your head. His salty precum meshed with what was leftover of your own mess, the taste making you moan around his length.

Bokuto was trying to move slower now, recognizing that you were easily slipping, but the way you rocked your body back and forth bumping against his sensitive, reddened tip, he couldn’t hold back much more. Digging his fingers into your hip, he eased the motions of your body, lining himself up, resisting from plowing into you at full force.

“Ready?” He asks, nearly whining. At the sound of his voice, you pull off from Hinata, letting your quickly tiring jaw grow slack.

“Uh-huh.” You barely heave out before wrapping your lips around him again. So sure you can take both at once and not falter, you ramp back up to your original pace, slobbering down his cock, the click of your quick motions echoing around your head. Unfortunately for your ego, you’re dead wrong.

Bokuto wastes no time drilling himself into you, setting a bruising pace straight from the beginning. It’s all you can do to loudly moan around Hinata’s cock, still stuffed in your mouth by the slight pistoning of his hips, the way Bokuto is ramming you forward only forcing him deeper down your throat.

As you gag, sputter, and moan down his length, drool dripping onto the already soiled cushions below, Hinata feels the pressure building and building in his core. Electricity tingles down his limbs, aided by the fucked out look in your pretty eyes. He doesn’t even have to move now with the way Bokuto is railing you against him. He wonders if you realize he’s close when you suck a little tight, cheeks hollowing as you take a little more of him, the hand that had been working his base coming down to lightly hold his swollen balls.

You don’t know. At this point, you’re moving on autopilot, simply trying your best. Your brain doesn’t know where to focus - Hinata filling out your mouth or Bokuto as he purposely alternates between hitting against your spongy spot and deep inside of you. It’s all a mess of spit, sweat, and cum, but you don’t think you’ve felt the rush of pleasure that comes with being used so well by more than one person.

Bokuto doesn’t know how much longer he can last. You’re clamping around, cunt fluttering each time his digs in a little deep or Hinata’s cock twitches against your tongue. He can tell by the scrunched up expression on his friend’s face that he can’t last much longer and he doesn’t blame him. Between fucking against your pussy and being wrapped up in your pretty mouth, no one really could. He’s determined to hold out though, a little spark of competition lighting up his chest. When Bokuto’s strokes suddenly slow you groan again, the vibrations dragging a stuttered moan from Hinata’s pretty lips.

“Gonna, hngh, uh gonna cum.” He sputters out, hips quivering as he tries to hold back from fucking too far back into your throat. At that, Bokuto’s hips speed up again, forcing a little whimpered cry, muffled by the cock in your mouth, from you. Still, you force yourself to focus on Hinata, sucking him dry as soon as the first spurt of cum hits the back of your throat.

He cums fast and hard and a lot. It’s seeping out from your lips, making him messier than he already was until he’s pulling his softening length from your mouth and flopping back against the couch, gently rubbing your arm while he catches his breath. With a heavy grin, Bokuto shoves a hand between your shoulder blades, knocking you into Hinata’s lap. Somewhat in vain, you try to clean him off between the pitchy mewls and cries that you breathe out while Bokuto chases his own release.

In no time, he’s there again, his own pressure built up as high as it could just before he burst inside of you. He fucks himself raw, your tight hole sucking him in, his cum only making it easier to slip in and out of you. Knowing he’ll finish when he’s completely spent, you lie limp in Hinata’s lap and he lazily wraps a hand around the back of your neck, soothing the leftover tension. You recognize Bokuto’s nearly done when his cock stops twitching and his hips slot against yours with some finality just before he slumps over you.

Whining when he slips out, even soft his cock is still a tight squeeze, you fall all the way against the couch, legs giving out at last. He falls back against the back, moving your legs to sit on top of his thighs and massaging them with great care. Completely spent and drifting half-asleep you just barely hear him.

“So,” he starts, head lolling toward Hinata who’s still lightly working his fingers against your upper back, “Dinner next week?”

[snickerdoodlles]

📓

I may or may not have read all bad buddy fics on ao3 already and this may or may not be me looking for a new fix

nonny i admire your strength so much, im still working thru my 'to read' list of bbs fics omg. but okok, i have a PatPran pirate AU for you!

okay so like, real quick, this potc meta post on elizabeth's kiss of death inspired me to rewatch the pirates of the caribbean trilogy. and normally, this wouldnt mean anything, except i have a compulsive habit of making Pran a god in everything i write, and then we wound up...here... Technically a pirate AU, but we're also dipping into foggy nautical lore with it (also heads up for talk of character death at the end--not big, same level as the potc 'verse and nothing graphic). I put this one under a read more because it got...long, but i hope the messy plot sketch and WIP snippet help satisfy your needs nonny!!

i haven't really found a story for this AU yet, so this is going to be pretty disjointed, but to start: the story before our story begins (*quick note: until we're given canon names, my name claim for Pran's dad is Santhad and my name for Pat's mom is Nam)

Dissaya is a deity of the sea. Santhad is the Davy Jones equivalent, a figure tasked with guiding souls lost at sea into the next life. Ming is a very skilled sailor and heir to a very successful merchant company.

Dissaya finds humans to be very curious. It's hard to say she's friends with them, just because of the sheer scale between her existence and anything a regular person would experience. Santhad is the closest she's come yet to loving someone. But there are other people she's still friendly with, in something that comes very close to friendship.

So Ming and Dissaya are something close to friends. The sea is still as fickle and tempestuous as it always is, but it's perhaps a little more kind for him (or perhaps he's just lucky). It's difficult to say if Ming's skills at sea are his own innate talents, or something borne of her favor.

(But Ming doesn't just want skill at sea, he wants mastery. He might, perhaps, even begin to search for a certain ritual pertaining gods and bindings...)

Who knows why he betrays Dissaya in the end. Maybe it was selfishness, information in a desperate gamble for his life, or maybe it was greed, a smokescreen for someone else to trap Dissaya and take her wrath so that his merchant ships were stronger and luckier sailing. In the end, it doesn't matter: Dissaya is bound to a human form, Santhad goes mad tracking down the perpetrators, and Ming's killed at sea

But Ming, deity touched, has a little more awareness than your average lost soul, makes his way back to shore. He stays there, unchanging, for years and years and then decades and decades. And so long as he stays on dry land, he's beyond his punishment and the sea's scorn

so that's the start of it. as for the story proper, i only know some details for how it begins and its ending, but i hope you enjoy it all the same:

Pran, the son of a goddess trapped in human form and a human man who's grown beyond himself, washes up on shore as a child remembering nothing but his name and a half-forgotten lullaby no one else has heard before.

Pat, the son of the most successful merchant up and down the coast, finds him and is immediately drawn to him. He never questions why he is, all he knows is that he wants to know everything about this strange boy there is to know.

Nam and Paa find Pran to be quite endearing. Ming finds Pran to be disturbing. He doesn't know what it is about the boy that sends him into such alarm, but Ming has not survived a century of avoiding larger punishment by ignoring his instincts. Ming can't stop Pat from being friends with Pran, no matter how hard he tries, but Pran always returns to open water, a compulsion he can't fight, and Ming can at least forbid Pat from following Pran into the open ocean.

(Pat is as sea-mad as his father once was. But Papa forbids him from even stepping foot on a boat. The closest Pat has ever come to the sea is the inlet so shallow and rocked in it's more river than sea, and Pat yearns.)

In this world, Junior's mom does become a famous pirate--a faceless phantom known as 'Captain', otherwise only known as a modest merchant sailing for Ming's company--and Pran joins her crew as a teen.

Ming knows exactly what's going through Pat's head when they hear the news, and he catches Pat sneaking out that night, trying to join her crew as well. It's the first time they fight.

Here's where things grow murky. Stuff certainly happens in here--Pran's visits to port, Pat trying to go with him, the growing number of fights between Pat and Ming. I have plenty of childhood PatPran ideas distracting me from the main plot, but eventually, Pran's piracy is discovered, and Ming issues a death warrant for him over Pat and Paa's protests. That inspires Pat and Paa to conspire for Pat to finally meet Pran out on the open seas (and he does eventually go). I have no idea where Dissaya and Santhad are just yet, or how anyone gets tangled up in the goal to free her, or what Paa does to reunite with her brother, or even what Pat and Pran get up to. I think the most concrete idea I have for the middle is Pat somehow winding up on Santhad's ghost ship, and Santhad immediately recognizing him as the son of someone he hates. But then he comes face-to-face with Pran, who he ofc recognizes as his son, but Pran doesn't recognize him. The second most concrete idea I have for this story is Pat and Pran on the open seas, both of them taking to sailing like they were born for it, and thinking nothing feels like freedom the way the winds over an open ocean or the salt spray of the waves on their cheeks do. They both love the sea's fickle nature--you're only ever you before the sea. Titles, names, ranks; none of it matters under the endless skies or over the open waves, and both of them thrive in the uncomplicated bluntness of it, Pat especially.

I don't know how any of that ties into the larger story yet though. But I do know what I want for the end:

Somehow, someway, there is a confrontation on the open seas after Dissaya has been freed. It's the first time Ming's taken step on a boat in a century, and it's going to be his last.

Somehow, someway, Pat is hurt and near dying. Santhad sacrifices himself so that Pat can become the new ferryman, and as the corrupted sea falls from his body, that's when Pran realizes that's his father, right before the man goes overboard to reunite with his first and only love.

As the ship sinks, Pran's pulled away by his friends, and Santhad's crew carves out Pat's heart.

Pat wakes to the deep water abyss. The waters are black from lack of sunlight, only lit by dim green soul lights that glitter like stars in the sky or light breaking on water, and everything is still and silent without time to push them forward. One soul, more defined than the rest, drifts a little ways before him. It's of a man, peacefully resting. When Pat tries to take a step closer, something like a tide pulls him back, and abruptly Pat knows. She's omnipresent and gone simultaneously, ubiquitous in the currents curling around his limbs, as fleeting as a gust of the wind.

Pat presses his hands together and bows. "Madam," he murmurs politely. His quiet greeting is swallowed by the drowned depths yet ripples through them like a shout.

Madam Dissaya is...difficult to look at. Even beyond his father's guilt, she is everywhere and nowhere. Between one blink, she's a shadowed version of her human form curled over the drifting soul, the next ripple she's the crushing dark waters. There's nowhere for Pat to look, and nowhere for him to look away.

She takes pity on him, and the form curled over the soul solidifies just a bit more. She looks almost like she did when she was human, except the ripples of her hair are wild and free, her skirts turn seamlessly to tide, her skin subtly ripples like light swelling on the waters. Her eyes are the only fixed part of her, never turning away from the soul resting in her arms.

"I trust you understand what you've been tasked with."

Pat tries not to shudder at the sound of her voice. It's like the roar of the waves and crushing pressure of the depths, and his bones know the terror it should inspire. It's also when he notices that his heart should be pounding but is not--or rather, it is pounding, but its thundering is not where it should be. His eyes slide to the drifting soul. Now that he knows what to look for, he recognizes the man's peaceful face from the echoes in the sea-logged nightmare of his memories.

The thought of what he's become is more difficult to swallow than the idea of his death. His swallow scrapes down his throat like salt. But he thinks of the horizon filled with waters shining unearthly green and littered with boats of souls still as lost as they were when they had died, and Pat bows his head solemnly. "I'll do everything I can to help those that die at sea."

"That's nice, but I was talking about my son."

Pat snaps his head up to meet Madam Dissaya's gaze head on. Her eyes are the drowning dark of the deepest ocean, and so familiar to him Pat aches.

You have the sea's eyes, she had said to Pran the first time they met, more literal than he or Pran had considered before they'd dismissed it.

Pat gapes at Madam Dissaya as she turns back to her love. "The hearts of men aren't built to love the sea completely," she says. "It's a heavy burden to bear, loving something so vast and unchanging that won't or can't return it in equal fervor. My love was special, but even he was overwhelmed in the end."

For the first time, Pat's mask cracks in irritation. Maybe she intends the warning as a kindness, or maybe she just doesn't want her son to be with the son of her betrayer, but it doesn't matter. He'll love Pran until it's too much to bear, and then he'll still love him even then. If all he'll gain is a broken heart in the end, he'll have it because of what he takes, not because of what he gives up.

Madam Dissaya's lips gain the hint of a smile. "You're lucky my son has his father's heart," she says before Pat can even begin his case.

The words slam into Pat like a cresting wave. He's now almost certain she's smiling, but it's difficult to muster any anger over it. As far as tests could have gone, he's getting off scot free.

He swallows, eyes burning, and bows. "Thank you for trusting me."

"I didn't. My love and my son did. Do not let them down."

And with that final warning, she waves her hand, and the waters churn into a crushing swell around him that carries him and his new ship up and up and up to the surface sparkling anew and cloudy skies breaking into gentle sunbeams.

Whatever happens next happens, but Ming will die and Pat will ferry his soul across the sea to where he should've gone on long ago. Pat and Pran continue on in the liminal space beyond the horizon, free to cross over and back again as they explore the seas they so dearly love together. And even when they're apart, both of them still carry a piece of the other with them--whether that be the sea itself or one's heart, though truly those are both quite the same.

[[ask me about the fic im not writing]]

[writer-dreams]

Colors (Draco Malfoy X Reader)

I'll be honest, I've had this one fully written since last week. I've just been very nervous to post it because the ending is so bad 😅. I haven't been sure how to fix it and I've re-written it several times. This fic is definitely rushed but hey, it's a one-shot (and I wanted to try writing something short and sweet for once). This is still part of the Cliche Month Challenge by @wreckofawriter (sorry this was so late). I've finally gained enough courage to post it and I hope you enjoy this messy fic.

Prompt: An AU where you can only see the shades of your soulmate's eyes until you first touch.

House: You choose

Blood Status: You choose

Warnings: Possible swearing

Note: Again, very messy. Not sure I like this one too much. The reader in this story is female / uses female pronouns.

Word Count: 1,694 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV

Y/n opened her eyes to see the world was still the same shade of steel grey. She longed to know what the world truly looked like, to see actual colors other than this grey. When she was younger, she was ecstatic to learn that someone out there was destined to be with her. She used to fantasize about meeting her soulmate, seeing in color and her falling in love. She imagined what her soulmate would look like, what their personality was like, their likes and dislikes.

Now, as she grew older, she began to develop fears. What if they didn't like her? Even if the universe had put them together, there was still a chance they could reject her. What if she didn't like them? She never considered herself to be a picky person, especially when it came to love, but that didn't mean that they couldn't have a horrible personality. All of her friends have already met with their soulmates, and it did seem like they matched each other perfectly. They always talked about how beautiful the world was and how they couldn't wait until she could see the colors too.

She snapped out of her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she walked off to the courtyard, hoping a good book could distract her from the whole soulmate situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n wasn't sure how much time had passed when she finally finished her book. A few hours, at least. She looked around the courtyard, seeing that she was the only one there. She sighed, deciding to go back inside. Y/n looked at the sky, dreaming about the day she could finally see the blue sky her friends talked about. She wondered how beautiful the night sky looked when it was in full color, how pretty a sunset could be. Yet, all she could see was grey. She was almost at the point where she would begin to resent the color. Still, she remained patient, still trying to hold on to the small shred of hope that she would someday meet the one.

On her way in, she bumped into someone rather harshly. The two fell back, Y/n closing her eyes and rubbing her head gently from where it hit the ground. When she opened her eyes, her mind was blown as suddenly, she could see the world in color. Amazed, Y/n slowly took in her surroundings, admiring the green grass and the blue sky. She looked at the bark of the trees, the castle, the white fluffy clouds. Her eyes began to fill with tears as she slowly let it all sink in. She could see, she could finally see! It was all so much more beautiful than she could have ever imagined.

The boy in front of her got up with a groan. In her dazed state, Y/n had almost forgotten about him. She looked back at him to see platinum blonde hair and grey eyes looking back at her. Her face immediately became shocked as she recognized that familiar face, those eyebrows, those thin lips, those sharp cheekbones. Draco Malfoy.

Said boy looked back at her with the same shocked eyes. He glanced quickly around him, an astonished expression on his face. His grey eyes landed back on her, almost in disbelief.

"You're my—" They both whispered.

Y/n couldn't do this. Even when he didn't know they were soulmates, Draco Malfoy was a bigoted twat. How could the universe possibly pair her up with him? Y/n shook her head, before she got up and quickly retreated to her dormitory. She could hear Draco calling after her but she ignored him and simply kept running.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she arrived, most of her friends were already there, talking amongst each other on their beds. At the sound of the door opening, they all turned their heads and greeted her. Y/n still couldn't believe that she could see in color because of Draco Malfoy. Now, she could see the color or her friend's hairs and their eyes. She turned to a mirror and examined her reflection, playing with her (h/c) hair. She could see that she had (e/c) eyes, which was so surprising, considering that she had only seen a grey version of herself for years.

"Hey, Y/n! I just want you to know that you're beautiful and you better not be saying bad things about yourself to that mirror!" (F/n) said.

"I'm not....I just...."

"You'll find your soulmate eventually, Y/n. Then you can finally see how pretty you are." Another friend reassured.

Y/n smiled back at her, not sure if she should tell her friends that she met them and that it was the worst possible matchup ever. She decided against it, telling herself that the universe had made a mistake. There was no way that Malfoy was her soulmate, she refused to believe it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost a week had passed after that incident and Y/n was still avoiding Draco. She could see him trying to reach out to her but she would quickly lose him in the crowded hallways. Everyday, every hour, she was playing a game of avoidance cat and mouse. She had gotten pretty good at it too, swiftly navigating her way through all the students.

Today was just another one of those days. There she was again, quickly walking through the crowds, afraid that she would see Malfoy and have to talk to him. Luckily for her, she managed to make it to class without running into him. She settled into her seat next to her friends, who were quietly gossiping to each other.

"Malfoy's been pretty quiet lately. Hasn't been taunting Potter or anything. He's not even picking on any first years."

"Maybe Dumbledore's finally had enough of his behaviour. Or maybe his father threatened to ground him or something."

Y/n stayed silent, listening in to their conversation. Great, even if she could physically escape Malfoy, he was still there in conversation. It really seemed like the universe was insistent that it was right with this pairing.

"Could you guys stop talking about Malfoy? He's old news anyway. Who cares if he's not bullying anyone for once? Maybe he's actually become a decent person." Y/n snapped.

Her friends looked at each other. "What's gotten you so riled up? You care about him or something?"

"Nothing. I just don't wanna hear about him. Let's just focus on the class, okay?"

Her friends nodded slowly, looking at her suspiciously before they changed the topic of their conversation. Why did she defend him? Everyone, including her, knew that he was a prat and that wasn't changing. Y/n sighed quietly, feeling frustrated. Another thing she had kept to herself was a feeling of longing for the blonde male. He appeared in her dreams like a prince offering to sweep her off her feet. She'd feel drawn to him when she saw him in the hallways, even when she forced herself to stay away from him. Y/n was afraid as to what it could mean, she couldn't accept the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After classes ended, she continued through her usual route back to her dormitory. Unfortunately for her, Draco Malfoy was waiting for her right at the entrance. She quickly turned to try and make a getaway but he grabbed her arm.

"Wait. L/n, can we please talk?"

"What's there to talk about?" Y/n asked coldly, even when her heart fluttered at his touch.

"Just, come with me." Draco began pulling her away as Y/n rolled her eyes and allowed him to drag her.

He took her to an empty hallway, where he finally let her go. Y/n looked at him expectantly, putting her hands on her hips. She knew this was coming, there was no avoiding it, especially when the universe constantly pushed them together. The universe can rot in hell.

"So...we both know that we're.....soulmates. Why do you avoid it?" He sounded hurt, and Y/n's heart ached at the thought of that.

"Because, you're Draco Malfoy. You bully Potter and practically everyone else in this school. All you care about is blood status, the Slytherin house, and impressing your arsehole daddy. You're a spoiled brat who acts like you're entitled to everything, and I refuse to be one of those things just because I'm your 'soulmate'." Y/n growled at him.

He seemed to take everything she said into consideration, which was extremely out of character for him. "I can change, Y/n. I can change for you. In fact, I already have. Haven't you noticed how silent I've been? It's been the talk of the school this entire week." He said, desperately. Y/n wondered why he was so persistent, why did he continuously chase her, even when she actively ran away?

"You feel it too, don't you? A pull to me, like a bond?" Draco asked, watching her carefully. Y/n didn't answer but her silence gave her away. "I feel it too. I see you in my dreams and Merlin, I feel my heart race when I see you. I know you think this is a mistake, but the universe doesn't make mistakes. I love you, Y/n. Just give me a chance to prove it." Draco took her hand softly.

Y/n felt it. Some sort of invisible bond tying her to him. The universe had her in its clutches and it would not let her go. She felt her heart tighten and she sighed. What could it hurt to try? Clearly, the universe wasn't giving up on this and maybe there was a good reason for that. She remembered that feeling of longing for the Slytherin boy and bit her lip.

Damn it all.

She took Draco's face and smashed her lips against his. It felt like everything clicked into place as he held her face and kissed back. His lips fit perfectly against hers and she could feel the world around them stop. It was as if the universe was satisfied with its work and was allowing them to enjoy their moment. She pulled away and opened her eyes, the colors around her seemingly more vibrant than before. Draco looked at her with the widest smile on his face.

"I'll take that as a yes?" He chuckled.

"Don't make me regret it, soulmate." Y/n smiled back.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Permanent Taglist (if your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you for some reason):

@my-name-is-jazzy-x

**********************************************

Thank you so much for reading! This was pretty hard to write (I guess I'm not that good at soulmate AU's yet 😅). I hope it wasn't too horrible to read. Yes, I am still working on requests while I'm writing these things (I promise). Thank you again for reading and I hope you enjoyed. Until next time.

-Jade

[sugako]

cold, cold, cold

pairing: timeskip!tsukki x gn!reader summary: there’s a little too much tension between you and your annoying co-worker at the museum after hours  warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, semi-public (no one sees), light degradation (very soft imo), quickie a/n: psa do not fuck in a museum.. as someone who has worked in multiple museums i feel need to say this,, also yes, ‘sherd’ is a word

Tsukishima was always around. Not that it was difficult working at a relatively small place. Something about him bothered you, but you couldn’t really figure it out. Maybe it was how he always seemed to sneer at you, or how he commented on your taste in music any time he stuck his head in your office, or how he never seemed to be in a truly pleasant mood. 

At first, you had even thought he was kind of cute albeit a bit awkward. Then you realized he was just selective and a bit haughty. You couldn’t help but think it had to be a front. He was never outright mean to you, although he certainly didn’t stop himself from criticizing you. Much to your dismay, his criticism were generally valid. 

You tried to ignore your own mixed emotions and confusion as you sat in the back of the frigid storage room gently dry brushing a sherd of Hagi ware from some long forgotten collection that had been neglected. 

“Oh, you’re still here.” His deadpan voice struck some fiery chord in your heart, but you simply glanced up. “Everyone else left.” 

“Yeah, I got caught up cleaning these.” You groan as you stretch back in your seat, bones creaking from having been hunched over for so long. “Why are you still here?” 

He rolled his eyes as he adjusted the stack of papers and bag in his hands and sauntered toward you. 

“An interesting song choice. You shouldn’t listen to music while you work, you know.”

You groaned quietly at his condescending attitude as you began shuffling the small piece back into its bag with its museum tag and a little info-note you had written for reference. He set his bag and papers on the table with a small thud.

“I’m allowed to listen to music. Besides, you do it all the time.” 

“You’re allowed, but you shouldn’t listen to such bad music.” He chuckled, snatching your phone of the edge of the work table before you could react. As fast as you could, you jogged over to the sink to give your dust stained hands a quick rinse. With an overly contented sigh, he pressed the pause button. “Isn’t that better?” 

You expectantly held out your hand. “Tsukishima.” You said sharply. 

He cocked an eyebrow, but your angry expression only seemed to egg him on. With a wicked grin he held the phone up beside his head. 

“What?” He asked innocently. 

“Tsukishima,” you urged, “we’re not playing this game.” This was embarrassing, but you couldn’t figure out for you or him. “We’re not ten, just give me it back.” 

“If you agree to listen to better music.” 

You wanted so badly to wipe the stupid smirk off his face, but deep inside you felt there was something a little alluring about it. Even if this situation was laughable at best. Sighing dramatically, you reached up for your phone. “Depends on what you think is ‘better’ music.” Standing up and straining your arm, you didn’t even notice how close you had gotten or how close your foot was too a loose power cord on the ground. 

He hadn’t been entirely steady in his stance, so when you came crashing into him, he went down hard into the cool concrete floor taking you with him. His hand that wasn’t clutching your sleeve was still miraculously clutching your phone. You wrapped your legs under his to trap him and clawed for your phone. 

“Stop, this is ridiculous!” You whined, tugging against his iron grip. 

“You pushed me over. You never look where you’re going.” He quipped back. 

“I only ran into you that one time because you’re so freakishly tall!” 

“You ran into me twice! Apparently you can’t count either.” 

“Who cares?!” 

“The curator should. If you can’t count to two, how can you count artifacts?” 

“What are you even... just shut up, you’re always so-!” 

The grip his fingers had slipped up a little and your ass flew back into his hips. Hard. When you shifted a little in an attempt to free your limbs from him, you felt it. His long cocking pressing sharply into your thigh. 

You gasp and flinch just enough that he notices. His eyes widen and his mouth gapes open as he goes to apologize, desperately trying to get out from under you. 

“This is what does it for you?” Your whisper is half full of wonder and half full of disgust. And he loves it. 

“N-no, you were just moving around so much. That doesn’t mean...” A deep blush lit up his cheeks as he attempted to sputter out some coherent set of words. 

You held back a chuckle as you sat back and stood. When you stuck out a hand for him to lift himself, he graciously took it, not meeting your eyes. 

“I’m just messing with you.” He doesn’t trust the smile on your face though. “But if you wanted to fuck me you should’ve just asked instead of acting like an insolent child.” 

Your hand tightened around his, keeping him locked close to you. 

“I was not acting like an insolent child.” He mumbled, though he made no attempt to move back from you. The look splayed across your face was far from joking. 

You didn’t know what you were doing. The phone thing had been annoying and embarrassing, but when you felt him harden up under you just from a little struggling and mean words it was like a switch flipped. You finally realized why you were so frustrated with him.

“That sounds like something an insolent child would say.” You breathe, maneuvering your fingers around so they were intertwined with his. His soft, shocked expression morphed as he made up his own mind about the situation. 

“You want to fuck me so bad.” He chuckled, an overpowering look gracing his features. 

You set your phone on the counter behind you and rolled your eyes. 

“You can’t stand to not be in charge, can you?” You took his other, very pliant, hand into your own. 

“I don’t care about being in charge when I know I’m right.” He said lowly, leaning into you. 

“Mhmm,” you humored him, leaning in as well. 

Before you could blink, a sloppy clacking of teeth and tongues knocked you back. Tsukishima grabbed your cheeks roughly. You clutched around his slender waist and pulled him into you. His hard cock strained against your front.

Normally so put together, his actions were so hurriedly messy now that he had you in his arms. Despite the fact that you didn't seem to get his humor or appreciate his critiques, he had found himself drawn to you from the day he saw you.

You brushed your fingers up his figure and into his light curls. The rugged tugs on his scalp make him moan into your mouth. His vibrations filled you with a sweet warmth, making you press even closer to him.

Finally, you tore him away by the back of his head. Panting unevenly, you struggled to get the words out. "Want you to fuck me." You breathed hotly into his ear.

"Here?" His condescending tone was marred by his shaking breath. "What a slutty thing to beg for."

"I-I'm not begging for anything." You growled, palming him roughly through his pants.

"So you don't want my cock, then?" His hands grabbed your ass and pushed you back just a few centimeters. "Is that why you look so desperate?"

"You're pretty cocky for someone who got hard over a little tug-of-war." You didn't move your eyes away from his as you unhooked his belt and unbuttoned his pants.

"I wish you would talk less." He groaned and tore himself away from you.

"Excuse me?" You were slumped against the empty counter behind you, incredulous as he rooted through his bag.

"Shut up," his eye roll was almost audible when he stood back and up and turned to you again. He held a little foil package in one hand, smirking. "Turn around and bend over."

The small urge you had to argue was strong, but the sight of his long cock weeping through his powder blue briefs was enough to make you easily comply. Swallowing the thick lump in your throat you clutched onto the edge of the freezing counter.

"Good." He hummed as he came up behind you. His fingers worked around your front to unbutton and rip your pants down. You craned your neck over your shoulder as he carefully opened the condom package and eased it over his long cock.

Shuddering, you relaxed toward the counter. His foot kicked between yours, spreading your legs wider. He watched with pure bliss as your hungry little hole clenched around nothing.

"Just fuck me already." You whined. Not being able to see him or what he was doing was creating a delightful mix of nervousness and excitement in the pit of your stomach.

"Well, I can't say no when you beg like that." He cooed into your ear. As you jumped back in surprise, he quickly slipped his thick cock head just past your entrance. You yelped at the sudden intrusion and tried your best to relax. "Sure you can take me?" He said lowly as he massaged your sides.

You scoffed. "Don't be so full of yourself."

"Alright then..."

In one smooth movement he bottomed out inside of you. As you screamed in both pleasure and dull pain, he clamped a hand over your mouth.

"You take me pretty well and I haven't even really touched you."

You muttered some agreement into his palm. Moving his hand away, he soothingly kneaded his fingers into your lower back, urging you to relax around him.

"Tell me when you can really take me."

"Please," you whined quietly, "move, please..."

He wanted to tell you to speak up, fluster you more than you already were, tease you until you couldn't form a sentence. But here and now wasn't the time or place. So instead, he started moving just as you had pleaded.

You cried out, desperately trying to quiet yourself although there was no one else there except the two of you, as he plunged in and out of your pulsing hole. Even though his strokes were fast and hard you could feel every inch, every vein and ridge. His little moans and gasps drew you closer and closer to the edge, but it wasn't enough.

With your hands trapped between your chest and the counter, you couldn't even move them to relieve yourself. Lost in your own pleasure, you barely noticed how your hips pushed back to meet his as he pounded into you.

"You're so good, please, fuck..." You babbled on.

Your little praises sent him over the edge. With your sweet encouraging, he sloppily thrusted into you, fingers digging deep bruises into your hips as he finally emptied himself into you. The syrupy pitched moan that left his throat made you shiver under him.

He slumped over you for a minute, holding you close. Finally, he pulled away, carefully pulling the condom off and neatly tying it up before tossing it into a nearby trash bin. With unsteady legs you pulled yourself and your pants up. By the time you turned around he already looked completely put back together as if he hadn't been mercilessly pounding into you a minute ago.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you didn't quite meet his eyes. "I didn't-"

"Come home with me."

"What?"

"I know you didn't cum, so if you want to you can come home with me and we can finish."

You couldn't help but smile at the blush that graced his cheeks. Trying your best to walk confidently on unsteady feet, you strode up to him and gave him a small kiss on the side of his lips.

"Let's go then."