#also thank you for loving me bits to pieces

[zepskies]

Oooh yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts, friend! 😜💜

I LOVE that you have notes! You spoil me. 🥰

Controlled breathing was necessary. But also, I feel like there were some great layers here. Dean allowing himself to feel good? And not just for one night. Admitting it and actually pursuing more? Yessssss. He deserves that.

*breath in, breathe out* loll

Aww thank you for that observation! Dean's finally acknowledging and breaking down those barriers within himself for "something good." 💗

Him sleeping better with her next to him--a classic. Never gets old. <3

Exactly, that's how I feel! 🥹 (We both know I'm a sap lol)

This whole paragraph was beautiful. Also, it was a moment where, if someone simply handed it to me with no other context, I would know it was yours. It felt like you.

The way you just gripped my heart tight and gave me the warm fuzzies. 🥹🥹 "It felt like you." What an amazing compliment! Thank you, my friend. 💕

Her rings being such an identifier was a great detail that fit so well with the reveal at the end. Smart, smart writing!

Aw I'm glad you liked that! That came over from Maybe More Than Enough. I just like the idea of her having silver rings as a fashion statement, a habit, and a good hunter tidbit all in one. 💜

Loved this! Definitely have had something similar in my head while daydreaming. A little sassy, but mostly lovingly concerned. (Again, so very you.)

It's his grouchy little face -- you just wanna smooth out those frowny lines. 😂😂 Aww thank you! Sassy, but mostly lovingly concerned is how I feel like I'd try to be with him. 💗

My stomach was doing something different this time. LMAO. The end of the first section--how he still had questions but just decided to trust her and her judgment. Brilliant. And proved that he really is ready for more.

LMAO I do not blame you on that one. 🤣

Aw Dean. It's mostly that he trusts her, but I feel like it's also a little bit of him "not wanting to look needy," asking too many questions about where she's been. Even if it's both, it's still a sign that he cares and he wants to be there for her regardless.

And in that first section, I simply could not figure out what she was off doing or what it meant for them. The reveal was as satisfying as the guessing. That might actually be my favorite part of this piece--the fact that I could not figure out where it was going. But also, she spent her early morning baking him a pie? My heart got gooier than its filling! =']

Ahaha honestly I feel accomplished that I managed to stump you at first! I threw in a couple of really tiny hints, but I hoped that the reveal would be surprising and satisfying enough, so I'm very glad you think so! She really did spend half the night and the early morning prepping that damn pie for him! 😂

And it just got better from there. He forgot his own birthday? OUCH. His emotion over her gesture? Love, love, love. And their use of touch? So tender and sweet. So, yeah, I was a fan of this one. xD<3

He really did in this one! Like, I feel like the brothers don't make a big deal about birthdays as well as holidays, so with everything they always have going on, HC that Dean forgets his own birthday half the time in the later seasons. I felt like her doing this for him would be a small but significant way of her showing that she's "all in."

Thank you again SO much for your lovely comments and observations!! You totally made my day, Larrs. 💕💕

It's not his birthday yet IRL, but we're celebrating it a bit early in this story. 😂

Restless Nights

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.

AN: As promised, here's a bonus one-shot to follow Maybe More Than Enough, though it can be read as a stand-alone. This is based on a request from @lacilou, one of my lovely Patreon members!

Bonus! It fulfills the @spnfanficpond monthly prompt. (Can’t give it away until the end though!)

Request: A Dean story based on the song “I Remember You” by Skid Row.

Word Count: 1.2K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, fluff, implied mentions of sex, bit of a twist ending… 

Dean woke to the sound of pouring rain hitting the roof of the bunker.

It must’ve been some torrential downpour, because it took a lot for him to hear anything of the outside world from inside this place. Good thing the old heaters kept out the January cold, too. Nothing worse than frigid rain.

Blearily he cracked his eyes open, unearthed an arm from where it was tucked under his pillow, and carefully raised his phone to check the time, trying not to let the light from the screen burn his retinas in the still dark room.

4:00 a.m.

He groaned. Goddamn it.

He turned over onto his other side to face where you should’ve been lying next to him. He frowned when he saw nothing but the sheets pulled back and a dented, empty pillow.

No matter how he fought it down, a small tinge of worry, and the beginnings of disappointment churned in his gut. His brows furrowed.

Did you regret it already?

After his first make out session with you (turned more session) in the backseat of his Baby, you two struck a tentative agreement to figure what this could be—more than hunting partners, allies, and friends. Despite the fact that you kissed him first (a fact he didn’t easily let you forget), afterwards, you’d been a little hesitant about what came next.

“We take it day by day,” he’d told you, with a sizzling kiss that stole your breath. “All I know is…this feels good.”

It felt right. You had definitely agreed with that.

Dean sighed through his nose, turning back onto his other side. It wasn’t unusual for him to be a light (restless) sleeper, but the handful of times you’d joined him in his bed had been beginning to make his nights calmer. He was actually starting to sleep through until morning.

What’s more, after years of looking into your eyes and seeing all the possibilities of what if, he was finally getting to make those images solid, and real. He could touch them, taste them, feel them under his calloused hands. He finally had you for real.

He looked past your empty spot in his bed and didn’t see your phone, or any of your rings on the nightstand. They were the first things you put on in the morning, and the last things you took off at night.

If those were gone…

His disappointment was settling high in his chest now; an ache approaching pain.

Until he heard the light sound of bare feet padding back toward the bed. Your hand slid gently up his arm, and after the surprise wore off, the corners of his lips tugged upwards. Your hair was a bit wild and frizzy. It tickled his neck and shoulder when you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“What’s this?” you whispered, swiping two fingers between the crunch in his brows. Dean relaxed with a small smile.

“Nothin’,” he claimed. His voice was deep and rough with sleep. “Had an appointment to get to or something?”

You smiled and settled into bed, embracing him from behind. He turned onto his back and welcomed you over, with an arm curling around your waist. He rested his hand on yours when it smoothed across his chest.

Subtly glancing down, he didn’t find any of the silver you wore on the daily, including the ring with a small turquoise stone he’d bought you a couple weeks ago, on a hunt in Denver. That one, you now almost never took off.

“I put them away in a drawer,” you said, wiggling your fingers under his hand. Your hand felt dry, and a little like you'd been handling something dusty. Had you been up reading in the library again, lost track of time? “When I woke up, I saw one fell off the nightstand. Have a feeling it had something to do with the bedframe knocking against it.”

At that, Dean couldn’t contain his lazy smirk.

“My bad,” he said, sounding anything but sorry.

You laughed, shaking your head. You still laid a kiss below his shoulder before you settled back down. He gave your waist a gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss of his own to your forehead. A deep breath fell from between his lips, and his eyes closed.

A question was on the tip of his tongue. Where you were, why you got up. Was it something he could help with? Or was it one of those moments you needed to have alone, not unlike the times you gave him to settle with his thoughts, after a hunt gone sideways. If it was important, you’d level with him, wouldn’t you?

So he let it be.

In the morning, you somehow once again managed to get out of bed without him feeling it. He didn’t hear you either. Curiosity led him down the hall and glancing inside the cracked door of Sam’s room. It was empty, his running shoes gone from the side of his bed. Dean rolled his eyes.

All right, Lance.

Oh, wait, that was biking. …Whatever.

Dean’s next path inevitably took him down to the kitchen. His stomach was already percolating—in need of good coffee and (hopefully) good food.

The smell wafting from the kitchen surprised him, however. Cinnamon apples?

He turned the corner, and there he found you.

The fuck?

You looked a bit of a mess. Your hair was thrown up into a haphazard bun, and you’d stolen his apron. Though in his eyes, you made it look better, the white fabric hugging around your curves like you were Rachel Ray or something. You were frazzled when he came downstairs, but happy to see him. You beckoned him over and sat him down at the small kitchen table.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on here?” he asked, eying you curiously.

“Just stay there!” you called from the kitchen. He heard you opening the oven, cursing when you nearly dropped something.

What the hell were you doing baking before 9:00 a.m.?

He turned to ask you what was going on (and if you needed help), but before the words could come out of his mouth, you came over and carefully set down the pie in front of him. The rich aroma, the golden flaky crust, the flecks of cinnamon and glossy apples peeking out from the divots in said crust—it all had Dean’s mouth watering, and his shocked gaze fixed on the shiny pastry.

He startled a little when he felt your hands on his shoulders, sliding part of the way down his arms. You kissed the side of his head.

“Thought I wouldn’t remember, did you?” you teased. “Happy Birthday, baby.”

Dean’s throat constricted. He tried not to show it, but your gaze gentled when he finally met yours, like you were seeing through all his layers anyway. He realized then what you were probably working on last night, and he really couldn’t fucking believe it.

He’d forgotten his own birthday. Couldn’t see much use in celebrating, when year after crappy year…

But he closed a hand over yours on his shoulder, and he brought your hand to his lips.

Every word he couldn’t yet say to you was etched in that single gesture.

AN: Short and angsty sweet! lol And the monthly prompt was "pie!" 🥧 For Dean of course. 😂

Hope you guys enjoy this one! 💜

Join Patreon 🌟 For early access to new stories, bonus content, first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

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[httpknjoon]

mister cute guy with the white jacket | myg

plot | that one time popstar yn surprised everyone by inviting her live band's bass guitarist with her on stage for a performance.

w.c | 2323

pairing | bass guitarist! yoongi x popstar! reader

genre | fluff (?), enemies to lovers

main masterlist

DAY 62 of Love Is... On Tour

"Please wear this tonight."

The tour's wardrobe supervisor knocks on Yoongi's hotel room door. Almost instantly, when he opens the door, he is handed a white denim jacket with a customized design on the back, bedazzling with rhinestones. It shows his initials in the middle of what seems to be an arrowed heart.

"Oh, is it a new outfit or something?" he asked since the live band members already had their two sets of costumes that fit the aesthetic of your tour.

Instead of answering, Paul pulled down his dark shades and looked at Yoongi in an are-you-seriously-asking-me-that mode. But Yoongi's expression didn't change. He still has the same unaware look that tells your tour's wardrobe supervisor that he still hasn't got the memo.

"You didn't hear the news?" Paul asked him.

"What news?" Yoongi replied, scratching the back of his head.

The corners of Paul's lips pulled up like he was suddenly excited. But he bit it off before it even turns into a full smile. Yoongi squints his eyes at this. Why is he trying not to smile? What was the news?

"You should talk to Cal before the rehearsals."

They were on their way to the arena for the soundcheck for tonight's concert, Yoongi had the jacket folded in his arm, when Fred, their drummer, took notice of it.

"That's a nice jacket you got there," he said, scanning it.

"You didn't get one?" Yoongi asked, getting more confused.

Fred shook his head and asked the others if they had their own jacket. But everyone said no and went back to doing what they were doing.

Arriving at the arena, other live band members began warming up their instruments on stage while Yoongi immediately searched for your personal assistant. He just needs to know why he is getting a jacket because he also learned the other members were not.

It is a little strange because he surely is not your favorite person here to make Cal get him a customized piece of clothing. Ever since he got abruptly signed up for this tour, you two barely had any interaction without having petty disagreements or bickering over little things. You two just see things differently, it's obvious to everyone. But Yoongi needed the gig and you needed a new band after your last one suddenly left. So you two still work together, just more civil with each other.

"Hey, Yoongi." Art, the tour manager, was the first person who greeted him when he got backstage to search for Cal.

"Hi, Art. Have you seen Cal?"

The older guy looked around behind him, "I think I saw her in the catering area— By the way, tell the guys to eat before soundcheck,"

Yoongi nods his head, "Okay, thanks."

He walked forward, looking for that area. After passing by three dressing rooms, he finally spotted your assistant lined up to get food presumably for you and herself since she had two plates on both of her hands. He walked up to her side.

"Hey, Cal. Can I ask you about something?"

"If it's a yes or no question, sure. If it's a long conversation, wait for me after I feed YN," she replied, before turning to the catering staff to tell them your specific menu.

"Okay, is— Why do you have to feed her? I'm sure she can—"

"Oh, cut it off. YN's been feeling under the weather since last night and she needs to take a rest. She's not eating anything but I need to make her so she has energy for later." Cal is quick to cut Yoongi's pettiness, sounding like your mother for a moment. "What's the question."

Yoongi, who feels a little guilty now, cleared his throat before asking, "Is this jacket mine?"

"Yes," Cal replied before walking after getting your food.

He followed next to her as she walked back to where you were resting.

"Why do I get one?"

"Because she wants you to wear it for tonight."

"And why?" Yoongi asked again since he feels like he is not really getting a more helpful answer to his concern.

Cal stopped in front of your dressing room, where your name was printed on a piece of paper that was taped on the door. She looked really busy and hurried.

"Lemme just take care of YN quickly. Then, I promise I'll talk to you in an hour." she sighed. "Now, can you open the door for me first and then come look for me here after soundcheck?"

Although dismayed that he didn't get any explanation, Yoongi opened the door for her to let her inside your room and left to do the sound check.

Before the soundcheck began, one of the staff members said that you would not be able to do both the soundcheck and rehearsals today since you were feeling unwell. That's when Yoongi knows that you need to rest badly. Because in almost eight weeks of touring, he has already seen you practice with a portable heating pad when you were having cramps or do a soundcheck with a cooling pad stuck on your forehead.

You love performing and being on stage, Yoongi can see it. So he cannot help but wonder how you are right now.

"She picked you for that."

Just like she promised, Cal talked to Yoongi to explain about the jacket before the dance rehearsals. They sat on one of the thousands of empty seats in the arena while the stage was being set up like a dollhouse.

Yoongi sips in his iced coffee, "For what?"

"We asked her if she wanted to do anything special tonight. She said she wants you as her partner for Bed Chem."

What? Yoongi stopped and slowly put down his coffee to look at Cal. What partner? You already have one of your dancers for that. Plus, he had seen that performance every night. Why would you want him there?!

Cal watched as his expression changed from plain to confused to shocked. He was speechless but his head was exploding with loud questions. So before he can say anything, she explains further,

"We thought that it was going to be fun. She wanted to start a small concert surprise tradition, where she would have an unexpected guest to go with her on stage for that song. For now, we thought of doing it one by one with the live band since you guys are earning some fans in the audience too since this tour began."

That's right. Ever since they got this gig weeks ago, every band member's social media following doubled— tripled in Yoongi's case. He was surprised to get a lot of attention online that they occasionally talked about on Twitter and TikTok. He has seen fan cams, which he finds a little weird but flattering at the same time.

"Don't worry, there will be a rehearsal for it later. Someone will tell you what to do and one of the dancers will stand in for YN. So you will know where to stand and all." Cal added.

Yoongi was silent, staring at the stage in the distance. He chewed on his lower lip, contemplating if he should do it.

"But if you don't want to do it, it's o—"

"I'll do it."

As soon as he agreed to do it, Yoongi joined the rehearsal for the Bed Chem performance. He rolled his eyes to his band members who came to eat their lunch while watching him on stage. Of course, they find it funny knowing that you two don't really get along.

"Is he going to dance?" Noah, their lead guitarist, asked for fun.

Seeing how terrified Yoongi was by that idea, the choreographer immediately denied it and just directed him to his points and what to do. To conclude it, Yoongi can just say that it has a lot of touching.

Next thing he knows, people are filling up the empty seats in the arena and Yoongi is putting on his white jacket before getting on stage. Yoongi still hasn't seen you all day. He heard from two staff members that you were mostly asleep in your bed all day and only got up to get ready for tonight.

"How are we doing, Chicago!"

Yoongi watched you from behind while you greeted everyone on the center stage after your first two songs. You were just as lively as your normal state, totally opposite from what he was told earlier today.

"I was in a sheer dress the day that we met..."

Six songs into the concert, the song he had been dreading waiting for began playing. You were on the bed where the performance would take place. You are now wearing a pastel pink sheer babydoll dress over your sparkling bodysuit, with a glittery garter strap on each thigh.

Fans sing along with you while Yoongi continues playing with the band. He tried to stay focused and not feel nervous about what was about to happen. His stomach is twisting and all he can do is to play the right chords in his guitar. But the feelings heightened even more when he was quickly shown on screens when you sang the lines:

"Who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent? Like ooh..."

Considering that this is the first time happening on the tour, the audience was surprised at first. Screaming. The, they were curious why did the camera swiftly focused on him. Then they resumed one vibing and singing along until...

"Who's the cute guy with the bass guitar and the big bad mm? Like ooh..."

Your fans squealed as soon as they realized that you changed certain words in the song lyrics, obviously pertaining to your bass guitarist, Yoongi. Then, you were walking out of the curtains around the bed.

It's hard to act like he doesn't notice you when there's a spotlight following you in every part of the stage you walk on. Yoongi tries to focus on playing his bass guitar but he can feel you walking in his direction. The cheers got louder. Yoongi doesn't like how warm he feels at the moment. You just did a few walks in front of the band before you went back on the large bed on the stage to do your choreography with your dancers.

"And I bet we'd both arrive at the same time, and I bet the thermostat's set at six-nine, and I bet it's even better than in my head..."

Just a few lines before the last chorus, the bit they rehearsed for began. Your dancers ran to him like they were encouraging him to go to where you are, on the bed.

"How you talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things, that's bed chem..."

Then, they pulled him with them on the edge of the bed. They leave him alone just in front of the curtains. At this point, the audience was truly engaged and loud.

"Are you free next week? I bet we'd have really good-"

That's his cue. Ignoring the heavy thumps in his chest, he slipped slowly between the curtains. He is on his knees as he gets closer to you while you look directly at him singing the last runs for the song.

Ha (make me go), ha And I know Ha (make me go), ha And I know

Your vocals play in the background while you two begin acting your little bit. Just like what he rehearsed with one of the dancers earlier, you ran your fingers in his damp, jet-black hair. Your index finger then traced down to his next and played with his silver necklace. You two simply look at each other deeply, aware of the fact that the temperature is indeed getting higher.

Fuck, it's too hot in here, Yoongi thought. And you look so good under this red light they put you two into. He mindlessly tucked a few hair strands covering your face behind your eyes. Although it's not in the bit you were told, you just let him. It's fine, it's just hair.

Ha (make me go), ha And I know Ha (make me go), ha Ooh, oh, baby

Just when Yoongi began removing his guitar strap, the curtains began closing. The fans went crazier. With only your silhouette seen from the outside, you lay on your back while he began removing his jacket. The instrumental is slowly fading out. And when he's about to be on top of you, the lights dimmed down.

Behind the curtains, you lay under him. Both his hands were on each side next to your head. The lights were already down but you two can still see each other, the fans' cheers are still dying down on the background.

"How are you?" he asked, breaking off this strange tension between you two. His deep voice didn't help the tightening feeling blooming in your chest.

"Hmm?" you simply hummed, not really knowing what he's talking about.

"Cal said you're not feeling great this morning." he explained.

No one's really doing anything. You're still under him and he's still on top of you. And you are not really annoyed by it.

"Oh, uhm, feeling better now, I don't know, maybe because of the adne—"

"143 seconds left. Get ready for costume change. Kim's waiting outside the curtains."

A voice in your in-ear monitor made you pause. Suddenly, you snapped out of it. You remember there was a concert going on and the stage manager was waiting for you to get you backstage.

"O-kay. Costume change. I need to go."

Yoongi backed up as you quickly got up, leaving him alone. Still in the dark, on his knees, his mind went blank for a second.

What the fuck was that?

He shook his head, snapping out of it, before picking up his guitar and going back to his original place.

note | first yoongi fic after so many years! how was it? thank you so much for reading 🤍

PERMANENT TAGLIST

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[emmmaa4]

I don’t know if you do male reader! But if you can please do make it that and if not do gender neutral.

Buttttt I would love a fic where Male reader just puts Jimmy (mouthwashing) in his place, just fucks the shit out of him really, give him a taste of his own medicine kind of thing, just rough sex.

I’ve love your work, and your writing is so amazing!! Take your time please if you do my ask 😭🙏

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for this proposal and for your words. I hope you and others like this fic. 💙

Male!Reader x Jimmy (mouthwashing)

⚠️ TW: NSFW, abuse, degradation..

"A taste of your own medicine"

I had entered into this 'great adventure' to feel better and to be a little more useful. I don't think I'm a bad guy, I just have a very strong sense of justice when it comes to the bad things that happen to me or, rather, to the people I like.

When one time, Anya, the Tulpar nurse had taken me alone to the infirmary, only to break down crying in front of me, almost screaming about how Jimmy had abused her, used her, as if she were just another piece of meat; something in me broke at that moment, I was furious. Even though I only tried to hug Anya and comfort her

"Please don't tell him anything! He'll kill me, I swear, he will..."

"Don't worry, I won't tell him anything, I promise Anya."

Of course that was a complete lie but honestly, I didn't want her to worry anymore. Curly was a corpse that could barely breathe, Swansea and Daisuke were just trying to do what they could to keep going; and on top of that, this idiot, in the end, ends up getting away with it like a slippery worm in the mud.

So, I just didn't think about it, I didn't want to think about it. Do I really have to think about it at this point when we're all about to die?! I don't think so. I looked for Jimmy, and I found him, he was almost hiding (so to speak), he was in the console room, this room was full of that white foam shit, Jimmy looked upset; I went in, closed the door behind me, the room was red because of the lights.

"You?! Get out of here, I'm making a plan because of your fault, because of Curl-"

He spat out his filthy words, thank god I'm a bit taller than him and fast too, I quickly punched him in the face, sending him crashing to the ground, the metal making a giant clatter. Jimmy gasped, his face scrunching up in anger, already getting up as he staggered to punch me. I grabbed him by his overalls, "Oh, don't you think you can, you little shit" - I quickly tackled him back onto the metal floor, chest face down, being crushed by my weight.

"You think you're a genius, without feeling guilty about all the things you've done?! Huh?!"

I grabbed him by his hair, lifting his head forcefully to whisper: "I'll make you taste a little of your own medicine.."

He gasped in shock, I used my hand to slam his head back into the cold ground, him gasping at the pain it caused him. I quickly tore with what I had of my strength, of my fury, his pants and pulled them down, I heard him scream beneath me but I quickly spanked him even though he had boxers on, he screamed loudly at this.

"Shhh... You like doing this to innocent people but you don't like it when it's done to you? Crying bitch..."

I started to hit his ass more, his body responded with small spasms, he also let out small gasps at my spankings. I got closer to his face, my mouth on his ear to whisper: "If you try to escape, I'll kill you."

I let go of Jimmy's hair, for a second I thought I saw tears in his psycho eyes as I got a little closer, I could only smile at the thought. I positioned myself behind him to tear the fabric of his boxers, his ass was already red; I couldn't help but bite my lower lip furiously, seeing so much pain from someone who had caused that same pain.

I started to hit him more, his ass turning a painful red, I heard Jimmy let out a scream out of nowhere causing me to quickly squeeze his ass with my big hands: "Shut up, you didn't let her scream, why I would let you then? Get your ass up."

Jimmy's hips shook but he still tried to lift them as best he could, I saw him turn his head slightly to the right to see me behind him, I saw a small dry tear come out of his eye. I would lower the zipper of my jumpsuit to take it off below my hips and take out my cock, resting it between Jimmy's two red and sore buttocks, he would jump when he felt it: "Oh, is the abuser sensitive?" I said with pure sarcasm, he dedicated himself to sticking his face to the floor. My cock began to harden, leaving pre-cum at the entrance of his ass, I would rest the tip of my member at the entrance, I decided to take just a few seconds to tell him with a furious voice: "I hope this hurts" - I slammed my penis inside his ass completely, without gentleness, without love, only fury and revenge.

Jimmy's little screams would sound all over the room, with the red consoles and that foam around. I would hear him gasp, I don't know if it was from pain or pleasure, I didn't care; I would pull out and bury my cock against his ass while I grabbed his red buttocks to hold him even if it hurt, I would hit him from time to time, just to take out the anger I have of him ON HIM.

"Stop! Stop please!"

"Oh no... we're going to be like this until you can't move anymore."

I grabbed his hair back so I could ram him deeper, my hair disheveled from moving so much, in a harsh way I grabbed his hips and rammed one last time, my balls would pucker as I would cum inside him, even being inside, still grabbing his hair I would guide his head so he would turn to look at me, he had saliva coming out of his mouth, along with dry and new tears coming out of his tear ducts; I got closer to his ear and whispered:

"Take responsibility Jimmy."

I threw his head against the ground, leaving him lying there, as I stood up to put on my overalls without a care in the world, I walked to the metal door, before leaving I gave him one last look; lying there, panting, having small spasms, and the worst? He had cum, his semen shot in his abdomen.

[badger-tales]

When the Storm Breaks// D.M x Reader

a/n: guys my requests are open, who and what i write for is pinned on my account. Also Draco is my little avoidant attachment king

request: I’m back! 🤍 The jealous!Draco compilation was everything. Thank you for doing that for me.

May I please request another Draco fic? I was thinking cannon!Draco being a little toxic and the fem!reader gets fed up which leads to a stormy argument. I would love to see passion, tension, and a resolution. I would love it to be dragged out a little too. It’s the angst feeling for like a minute but then all ends well?

Thank you Badger 🤍

word count: 7.5k

The Slytherin common room was dimly lit, the greenish glow from the lanterns casting eerie shadows on the cold stone walls. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and aged leather, the soft crackle of the fireplace the only sound breaking the tense silence. It was late, and most of the other students had retreated to their dormitories, leaving the space almost eerily quiet.

You sat by the fireplace, your fingers nervously picking at the hem of your robe. Your eyes kept flickering to the entrance every few seconds, your heart sinking a little lower each time it remained empty. The room felt too large, too cold, the emptiness of it mirroring the way you felt inside.

"How much longer can I keep this up?" you wondered, your mind replaying the harsh words you and Draco had exchanged earlier. The argument had been like so many others lately—frustration, accusations, and Draco shutting you out. You were exhausted, your heart heavy from trying so hard to reach him, to break through the walls he kept raising.

The minutes dragged on, each one a dagger twisting deeper into your chest, until finally, the door creaked open. Draco stepped through, looking every bit as worn out as you felt. His hair was tousled, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion, and there was a tension in his shoulders that made your heart ache. But he didn’t even glance your way; instead, he strode straight toward his secluded study corner, the same one he always retreated to when he wanted to avoid the world.

The familiar pang of disappointment hit you, but you swallowed it down, clenching your jaw. Why does it always feel like I’m the one trying? you thought bitterly, your hands tightening into fists. Does he even care anymore?

Gathering your resolve, you stood up and approached him cautiously, each step feeling heavier than the last. You paused a few feet away, trying to summon the strength to keep your voice steady.  

"Hey... you’re late," you said softly, trying to sound casual, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Draco didn’t bother looking up. He was hunched over a piece of parchment, scribbling furiously, the quill scratching angrily against the paper.  

"I was busy," he replied curtly, his tone cold and dismissive, as if your presence was more of an inconvenience than anything else.

The words hit you like a slap, and you could feel your carefully constructed composure beginning to crack. Anger simmered beneath your skin, bubbling up to the surface despite your best efforts to push it down.  

"Busy?" you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended. "You mean too busy to even talk to me for five minutes?"

Finally, Draco’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, but they were cold and guarded, his expression set in that familiar mask of indifference that had become all too common lately.  

"What do you want from me?" he snapped, his voice laced with irritation. "I’m here now, aren’t I?"

The way he said it, as if his mere presence should be enough, made something inside you snap. You felt the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not now. Not in front of him.  

"No, Draco," you retorted, your voice shaking despite your efforts to steady it. "You’re physically here. But emotionally? You’re miles away."

His expression hardened, his jaw tightening as if your words had struck a nerve. For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something—regret, pain, maybe even guilt—but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that familiar, icy glare.  

"You don’t understand," he muttered, turning his gaze back to the parchment, as if whatever he was writing was far more important than the conversation unraveling between you.

You let out a frustrated laugh, the sound bitter and broken.  

"Maybe because you never let me in," you said, your voice dropping to a whisper. The weight of your own words hung heavily in the air, the truth of them hurting more than you cared to admit. "I’m trying, Draco, but it feels like you’ve already given up on us."

For a moment, he didn’t respond. The only sound was the crackle of the fire and the distant drip of water somewhere deep within the dungeons. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped the quill so tightly that it might snap. But when he finally spoke, his voice was softer, almost defeated.

"I never asked you to try," he whispered harshly, not looking up. "Maybe it’s better if you just... stop."

The words cut deeper than any spell ever could. You felt your heart shatter, piece by piece, each word a blow to the fragile hope you had been clinging to.  

"Is that really what you want?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your hands were trembling now, the tears you had been holding back finally slipping free.

Draco finally looked up, and for a moment, the cold mask slipped, revealing a flash of something raw and vulnerable in his eyes. But then it was gone, replaced by the same guarded expression that had become all too familiar. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he simply turned away, his shoulders slumping as he buried his face in his hands.

The sight of him—so broken, so lost—made your anger dissolve into aching sadness. You took a hesitant step forward, your hand reaching out to touch his arm, but you hesitated. Would he push you away again?

"Draco," you said softly, your voice barely a whisper over the crackle of the fire. "I’m here because I care. But I can’t keep doing this alone."

He didn’t move, didn’t look at you. For a long, agonizing moment, you stood there, the distance between you feeling like an insurmountable chasm. But just as you were about to turn away, to leave him to his solitude, you felt his hand close around your wrist. His grip was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid you might pull away.

"Please," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Don’t go. I... I don’t know how to do this."

You turned back to him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. He looked so tired, so worn down by whatever burdens he was carrying. In that moment, all the anger, all the frustration melted away, leaving only the raw, aching love you still felt for him.

"Then let me help," you whispered, stepping closer, your other hand reaching up to gently cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as if he was soaking in the comfort you offered. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, Draco didn’t push you away. He let his walls down, if only a fraction, and that small opening was enough. As you stood there, the warmth of the fire enveloping you both, you knew it wouldn’t be easy. But in that moment, with his hand still holding yours, you felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could weather the storm together.

Here’s the expanded scene, continuing seamlessly from the previous moment in the Slytherin common room. This scene focuses on the raw emotions, tension, and the unraveling conflict between the reader and Draco as they confront the turmoil brewing between them.

The Slytherin common room had grown stifling after your heart-wrenching conversation by the fire. The silence that followed was unbearable, filled with unsaid words and unfinished confessions. You thought, for a brief moment, that Draco might finally let you in—might finally let down his walls. But the moment had slipped away, leaving only tension in its wake.

Without warning, Draco abruptly stood up, his movements jerky and frustrated. His expression shifted back into the cold mask he wore so often, the vulnerability you had seen just moments ago vanishing like smoke. Without so much as a glance your way, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the common room, his robes billowing behind him like a shadow.

Your heart lurched. No, not again, you thought desperately. You couldn’t let him slip away this time. Not when you had gotten so close. Without hesitating, you pushed yourself up from the armchair, your feet carrying you after him, the fire’s warmth quickly replaced by the cold, damp chill of the dungeons.

"Draco, wait!" you called, your voice echoing off the narrow stone walls. The sound bounced back to you, hollow and desperate, but Draco kept walking, his shoulders tense and his jaw clenched. He moved swiftly, the darkness swallowing him up as he disappeared around a corner.

You quickened your pace, the soles of your shoes slapping against the wet stones as you tried to catch up.  

"Draco, please!" you pleaded, your breaths coming out in quick, shallow bursts. The dungeon corridor seemed to stretch endlessly before you, the flickering torchlight casting shadows that danced mockingly in the corners of your vision.

Finally, in a burst of determination, you reached out and grabbed his arm, your fingers curling tightly around his sleeve. The force of it jerked him to a stop, and he spun around to face you, his eyes flashing with something dark and unreadable.

"Why are you doing this?" you demanded, your voice breaking slightly. The dim light cast harsh shadows on his face, making him look even more distant, more unreachable. "Why are you always running away? Why can’t you just talk to me?"

Draco’s expression was cold, his eyes hard as steel, the brief glimpse of vulnerability he’d shown earlier now buried beneath layers of anger and sarcasm.  

"Doing what?" he spat, his tone dripping with bitterness. "Trying to survive, maybe?"

The words struck you like a physical blow, the harshness of his tone cutting through you. But you refused to back down. The fire that had been simmering in your chest erupted into a blaze.  

"You’re not surviving, Draco," you shot back, your voice rising as the frustration and hurt boiled over. "You’re pushing everyone away until there’s no one left! I’m trying so hard, and you don’t even care!"

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—pain, regret, fear, you couldn’t quite tell—but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. He scoffed, turning his gaze away, his jaw clenched so tightly that you could see the muscle twitch.  

"Maybe I don’t want anyone close to me!" he snapped, his voice harsh and ragged. "Did you ever think of that? Maybe it’s easier this way."

Your heart ached at his words, the raw pain behind them like a slap to the face.  

"Easier for who, Draco?" you yelled, your voice echoing through the empty corridor. "Because it’s certainly not easier for me!"

He flinched, the sound of your voice breaking something in him. But he masked it quickly, his expression hardening once again. The tears you’d been holding back were now welling up, but you refused to let them fall. You would not let him see you cry. Not this time.

"You think I don’t care?" he growled, stepping closer, his eyes blazing with anger and something else—something that looked suspiciously like fear. "You have no idea what it’s like. What I’m dealing with."

You could feel the heat of his breath, the closeness making your heart pound painfully in your chest. But you refused to be intimidated. You stood your ground, your eyes never leaving his.  

"Then tell me," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Tell me what you’re dealing with, Draco. Let me in. Stop shutting me out."

He stared at you, his eyes searching your face, but his walls were still firmly in place. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the tendons in his neck standing out as he struggled to contain whatever storm was raging inside him. 

"I can’t," he finally whispered, his voice breaking. His shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him. "I can’t, alright? It’s... it’s not that simple."

The desperation in his voice, the defeat in his posture, made your resolve falter. You reached out again, more gently this time, placing your hand on his arm. He didn’t pull away this time, but he also didn’t look at you. His eyes were fixed on the floor, his breaths coming out in shallow, uneven gasps.

"Draco, please," you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I’m not asking for much. I just want you to let me in. I’m on your side. I want to help you, but you have to let me."

For a moment, it seemed like he might actually listen. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and in that instant, you saw all the hurt, the fear, the loneliness he tried so desperately to hide. But then, just as quickly, his expression hardened once more, and he pulled away, stepping back into the shadows.

"You don’t understand," he said bitterly, shaking his head. "No one does."

Your heart clenched painfully, and for a moment, you considered walking away—letting him have the isolation he seemed so determined to cling to. But something in his eyes, something so broken and lost, made you stay.

"Then make me understand," you pleaded, your voice raw with emotion. "Because I’m not giving up on you, Draco. No matter how hard you try to push me away, I’m not going anywhere."

The words seemed to hang in the air, suspended between the two of you like a lifeline. Draco’s eyes locked onto yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. For a heartbeat, he looked as though he might say something, might finally let down the walls that kept you at arm’s length.

But then, with a harsh exhale, he turned away, his voice breaking as he muttered, "I can’t. It’s better this way."

And with that, he disappeared into the darkness, leaving you standing there in the cold corridor, your heart aching more than ever. As his footsteps faded into the distance, you leaned against the cold stone wall, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over.

How much longer could you keep trying to break through to him? How many more times would you have to watch him walk away?

But even as you wiped the tears from your cheeks, you knew you weren’t ready to give up. Not yet. Because beneath all the anger, all the pain, you had glimpsed something real. Something worth fighting for.

And you weren’t ready to let him go.

Here’s the expanded scene, capturing the growing emotional distance between you and Draco amidst the crowded yet isolating atmosphere of the Great Hall. The focus is on the reader’s inner turmoil and the heartbreak of watching Draco drift further away:

The Great Hall was alive with the usual dinner-time bustle—laughter, the clatter of cutlery, and the steady hum of conversations filled the air. Candles floated above, casting a warm glow over the long house tables, where students huddled together, talking animatedly about the day’s events. Yet, despite the lively atmosphere, you felt utterly alone, as if there were an invisible wall separating you from the world around you.

You sat at the Slytherin table, directly across from Draco, who was barely acknowledging your presence. There had been a time, not so long ago, when the two of you would laugh and share whispered jokes over meals, stealing glances at each other that made your heart race. But now, a heavy silence hung between you, suffocating and impenetrable. 

Draco sat hunched over his plate, absently pushing his food around with his fork, his eyes darting around the room as though he were searching for an escape. His once vibrant eyes were now shadowed, distant, and every time you tried to catch his gaze, he looked past you like you were nothing more than another face in the crowd.

Desperate to bridge the gap, you cleared your throat, forcing yourself to smile as you leaned forward slightly. "So... how was Potions today?" you asked, trying to sound casual, your voice barely audible over the din of the Great Hall. 

For a moment, it seemed like he didn’t even hear you. Then, with a dismissive grunt, he finally responded,  

"Fine." The word was clipped, indifferent, as if even acknowledging you was a chore. His eyes never met yours; instead, they drifted to where Pansy Parkinson was sitting a few seats down. 

Pansy was animatedly recounting something to the group, her hands waving in exaggerated gestures, and you watched as a small smile tugged at the corner of Draco’s lips—a smile that used to be reserved just for you. Your heart twisted painfully at the sight. 

"What happened to us? When did I become invisible?" you wondered, the thought slicing through you like a knife. There was a time when you were the one who could make him smile like that, the one who could lighten the shadows in his eyes. But now... now, it felt like you were nothing more than a ghost in his life.

You took a deep breath, determined not to give up. You couldn’t let this distance grow any wider, not without at least trying to reach him one more time. Summoning your courage, you reached across the table, your fingers lightly brushing against his hand.  

"Draco," you said softly, leaning in closer so that only he could hear, "can we talk later? Just the two of us?"

For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes—surprise, maybe even hesitation—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. His reaction was almost instinctive; he pulled his hand away as if your touch had burned him. 

"I’m busy tonight," he replied curtly, his tone cold and dismissive. His eyes were hard, as if daring you to push further. Before you could say anything else, he turned back to Pansy, his posture relaxing as he rejoined their conversation, completely shutting you out.

The sting of his rejection hit you like a physical blow. You could feel your throat tighten, the familiar prick of tears threatening to spill over. But you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, to swallow down the lump in your throat. The last thing you wanted was to fall apart here, in front of everyone. 

"Why is he making this so hard?" you thought desperately, your heart aching with the weight of everything left unsaid between you. It was like trying to hold on to sand slipping through your fingers—no matter how tightly you tried to grasp it, it kept falling away. 

The food on your plate had grown cold, your appetite completely gone. You couldn’t sit there any longer, pretending like everything was fine while Draco seemed to do everything in his power to push you away. Pushing back your chair, you stood up abruptly, mumbling a quick excuse to those seated around you.

Draco didn’t even look up as you left, too engrossed in whatever Pansy was saying. The realization made your chest tighten painfully. Is this it? Is this how it ends? 

As you stepped out of the Great Hall, the cool air of the castle corridors hit you, and you sucked in a shaky breath, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. You needed to get away, to clear your mind before the heartbreak became too overwhelming. You could hear the distant laughter from the hall behind you, but it felt like it belonged to a different world—one you were no longer part of.

You quickened your pace, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridor as you fled deeper into the shadows of the castle. Only once you were sure you were alone did you let out a shuddering breath, the tears you’d been holding back finally slipping free. 

Leaning against the cold stone wall, you closed your eyes, letting the tears flow silently down your cheeks. All you had ever wanted was to be there for him, to help him shoulder whatever burdens he was carrying. But now, it felt like he was deliberately shutting you out, choosing his pain over you.

"How much longer can I keep trying?" you wondered, the thought hanging heavily in your mind. Every attempt to reach him seemed to push him further away, and you were terrified that one day, he’d be so far gone that there’d be no way to bring him back.

For now, all you could do was let the tears fall, the sound of your quiet sobs swallowed by the darkness of the empty corridor.

The castle was quiet, the echo of your footsteps swallowed by the darkness as you wandered aimlessly through the cold, empty corridors. The events of dinner had left your heart heavy, your mind swirling with thoughts you couldn’t escape. You needed air—space to clear your head, somewhere far from the suffocating tension of the Great Hall and the accusing looks you imagined from everyone around you.

Without even realizing it, your feet had carried you to a place that once held fond memories. The Astronomy Tower, where you and Draco used to sneak away, hidden from prying eyes. Back then, it had been your secret haven, a place where stolen kisses and whispered confessions made the rest of the world fade away. But now, standing there in the cold night air, it felt like a hollow echo of something you’d lost.

You leaned against the stone railing, the rough surface biting into your palms as you stared out at the moonlit grounds below. The stars were brilliant tonight, scattered like diamonds against the velvet sky, but they offered no comfort. Instead, they only served as a stark reminder of the distance between you and Draco—the boy you once knew, the boy who now felt like a stranger.

The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, hot against your cold cheeks. You bit your lip, the taste of salt mingling with the icy breeze.  

"How did we get here?" you thought, your heart aching with every beat. "Why won’t he just let me in?" 

The quiet was shattered by the sound of footsteps on the stone staircase behind you. You hastily wiped at your eyes, hoping it was just a prefect on their rounds. But when you turned around, your breath caught in your throat.

Draco stood in the doorway, his figure silhouetted against the faint light from the torches below. His expression was unreadable, but there was something different in his eyes—a softness, a hesitation you hadn’t seen in weeks. He seemed to fill the space with his presence, yet there was a hesitance in the way he stood, as if he wasn’t sure he was welcome.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked, his voice softer than it had been in what felt like a lifetime. The sharp edges you’d grown used to were gone, leaving behind a tone that almost sounded... unsure.

You turned back to the stars, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall again. The cold air stung your cheeks, making them burn as you fought to keep your composure.  

"Trying to remember why I’m still fighting for us," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper, carried away by the wind.

There was a long, heavy silence. You could feel him standing there, his presence both comforting and suffocating all at once. You didn’t dare look at him, afraid that if you did, the fragile control you had over your emotions would shatter completely.

Draco took a hesitant step forward, the sound of his shoes scuffing against the stone floor. For a brief moment, you thought he might reach for you—his hand twitched at his side, as if he wanted to take your hand, to pull you close like he used to. But just as quickly, he withdrew, retreating behind the walls he was so determined to keep up.

"You don’t have to wait for me," he said quietly, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it over the wind. There was a note of something in his tone—regret, maybe, or fear. "You could... find someone else."

You turned to face him, your heart breaking all over again at the way he stood there, looking so lost and conflicted. His words cut through you like a knife, and you struggled to understand how he could say such a thing when all you ever wanted was to be there for him.

"Is that what you want, Draco?" you asked, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady. "For me to leave?" You searched his eyes, desperate to find a shred of the boy who once held you close, who whispered that he’d never let you go.

But his jaw clenched, his eyes flickering away from yours, refusing to let you see whatever war was raging inside him. His silence was answer enough. He was too afraid to let his guard down, too terrified to admit that he needed you, even as he stood on the precipice of losing you forever.

"Draco," you pleaded, your voice breaking as the tears welled up again. "I’m still here. I’m still fighting. But you have to give me something—anything—to hold on to."

For a moment, you thought you saw something crack in his cold exterior. His eyes softened, his lips parting as if he were about to say something that might change everything. But then, just as quickly as it came, that moment was gone. The mask was back in place, his expression turning hard once more.

"I can’t," he whispered, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "It’s better this way."

Before you could respond, before you could reach for him, he turned on his heel and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty tower as he descended back into the shadows. You watched him go, your heart shattering with each step he took. 

And then, just like that, you were alone again. The cold wind whipped around you, biting into your skin, but it was nothing compared to the chill that had settled deep inside your chest. You leaned back against the railing, the tears flowing freely now, no longer caring who might see.

"Why won’t you let me in, Draco?" you whispered to the stars, your voice lost in the wind. But the night offered no answers, only the distant howl of the wind as it swept across the castle grounds below.

You stayed there, alone in the darkness, until the chill became too much to bear. And as you made your way back to the Slytherin dormitory, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you and Draco had irrevocably changed—like a thread that had been stretched too far, finally snapping under the strain.

Yet, despite everything, despite the heartbreak, you couldn’t bring yourself to walk away. Because as broken as things were, as distant as Draco had become, there was still a part of you that believed—hoped—that maybe, just maybe, there was still something worth saving.

And so, with the taste of salt still on your lips and the cold air stinging your cheeks, you resolved to keep fighting. 

But for how much longer?

The small, dimly lit study room was cloaked in shadows, the flickering light from a single lantern casting long, eerie shadows on the stone walls. The door slammed shut behind Draco with a resounding crash, the sound echoing through the confined space like a clap of thunder. He was like a storm personified, his shoulders tense, breaths coming in sharp, erratic bursts as if he’d just run a marathon.

But you weren’t going to let him shut you out this time. Not again. Refusing to be locked out, you shoved the door open, the force of it rebounding against the wall as you stepped into the cramped room. 

"I’m not leaving until we talk about this," you declared, your voice a mix of anger and desperation. You could hear the tremor in your words, but you stood your ground, refusing to back down even as Draco glared at you, his eyes filled with a volatile mix of emotions.

Draco paced the narrow room like a trapped animal, his fists clenching and unclenching, the tension radiating off him in waves. He looked like he was on the verge of exploding, and for a moment, you wondered if he might.  

"Fine," he spat, his voice rising as he whirled around to face you. "You want to talk? Let’s talk. Let’s talk about how nothing I do is ever good enough for you."

His words were like a slap, stinging and sharp, and they made your breath catch in your throat. You took a step back, the impact of his accusation leaving you momentarily stunned. But then, anger flared hot and bright within you, igniting a fire you couldn’t contain.

"This isn’t about you being good enough, Draco!" you shot back, your voice cracking with the weight of everything you’d been holding in. "It’s about you shutting me out! I don’t even know who you are anymore!"

The words hung heavy in the air between you, the only sound the rapid, shallow breaths you were both taking. Draco’s eyes blazed, his face twisted in a mask of fury. For a moment, you thought he might lash out—say something so cruel that it would leave you shattered beyond repair.

"Maybe you shouldn’t have tried so hard to get close, then!" he shouted, his voice raw and desperate, echoing off the stone walls. He took a step toward you, his presence overwhelming in the small space. "If you can’t handle it, then just leave!"

The silence that followed was deafening. The air seemed to grow colder, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a physical force. You felt like the ground had been ripped out from under you, your heart splintering into a thousand pieces. 

For a moment, you turned toward the door, your body moving on autopilot. The logical part of you screamed to just walk away—to protect yourself, to stop trying to love someone who only pushed you away. But as your hand touched the cold doorknob, your shoulders trembled, and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

With a deep, shuddering breath, you turned back around, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears.  

"I’m not leaving," you whispered, your voice breaking on the words. "I’m not leaving because I love you."

The confession hung in the air, fragile and raw, like a delicate thread that could snap at any moment. Draco’s eyes widened, the anger draining from his face as if someone had doused him with cold water. He stared at you, his expression shifting from fury to shock, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t quite process what you’d just said.

"You... love me?" he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if he was afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter the moment. 

You nodded, the tears you’d been fighting finally spilling over, trailing hot and bitter down your cheeks.  

"Yes, you idiot," you choked out, your voice breaking with the intensity of your emotions. "But you’re so wrapped up in your own pain that you can’t even see it."

Draco stood frozen, his usually composed demeanor crumbling right before your eyes. His face was pale, his eyes wide and glistening with something that looked suspiciously like tears. The raw vulnerability in your words seemed to pierce through whatever armor he had been using to keep you at bay, and for the first time in what felt like forever, his walls began to crack.

You watched him, your heart pounding painfully in your chest. For a moment, it seemed like he might push you away again, retreat behind those impenetrable barriers he’d built around himself. But then, slowly, he took a hesitant step toward you, his hands trembling at his sides.

"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking. "Why would you still love me after everything? After all the times I’ve hurt you?"

The pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear, but you held his gaze, refusing to look away.  

"Because I know you," you said softly, stepping closer until you were only inches apart. "The real you. The one who’s scared, who’s hurting, but who’s also capable of so much more. I see you, Draco, even if you can’t see yourself."

A choked sound escaped him, something between a sob and a laugh. He reached up, his fingers brushing your cheek, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real.  

"I don’t deserve you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. 

You shook your head, leaning into his touch.  

"Maybe not," you said, your voice soft but unwavering. "But I’m here anyway. And I’m not leaving."

Something in him seemed to break at your words. He pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it almost hurt, like he was afraid you might slip through his fingers if he let go. His face was buried in your hair, his shoulders trembling as he let out a shaky breath. 

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "I’ve been so scared... so lost. I didn’t know how to let you in."

You held him even tighter, your hands threading through his hair as you whispered, "It’s okay, Draco. I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere."

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between you began to ease, replaced by something warmer, something softer. As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms in that tiny study room, you could feel the cracks in Draco’s walls starting to heal—not because you forced them, but because he was finally ready to let you in.

And in that moment, you knew that no matter how dark things had been, there was still hope for both of you. Because love wasn’t about perfection—it was about choosing each other, over and over, even when things seemed impossible.

And you were willing to choose him, as long as it took.

The small study room had changed, its once cold and tense atmosphere now softened by the warm glow of the fire crackling in the hearth. The tension that had filled the air just moments ago seemed to dissipate, replaced by a fragile calm. The flames danced, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls, creating an almost surreal sense of intimacy in the tiny space.

Draco stood in the middle of the room, his shoulders slumped, the fight drained out of him. For a moment, he seemed to sway, like a man on the verge of collapsing under the weight of his own burdens. And then, as if his legs could no longer hold him up, he sank into the nearest chair, his head bowing low, his hands coming up to cover his face.

His voice was a broken whisper, barely audible over the soft crackle of the fire.  

"I don’t know how to do this," he confessed, each word laced with anguish. "I don’t know how to keep you safe... how to stop them from using you against me."

Your heart shattered at the raw pain in his voice. This was Draco stripped of all his defenses, his cold mask crumbled into pieces on the floor. He was no longer the aloof, guarded boy you had grown used to, but someone who was terrified, lost, and desperately trying to protect what little he had left.

You moved closer, your footsteps soft against the stone floor. You couldn’t bear to see him like this—so broken, so defeated. Gently, you reached out and pulled his hands away from his face, your touch soft but firm. His eyes were red-rimmed, his lashes wet with unshed tears, and it broke your heart to see him like this.

"You don’t have to protect me, Draco," you whispered, your voice gentle but filled with conviction. "I chose this. I chose you."

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes wide with disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you were still here, still choosing him despite everything. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away, his breath hitching as he struggled to regain control. But he was losing the battle; the walls he had so carefully constructed were crumbling faster than he could rebuild them.

"Why?" he whispered, his voice breaking. "Why would you choose me? After everything... after all the times I’ve pushed you away..."

You leaned in closer, your hands cupping his face, your thumbs gently brushing away the remnants of his tears.  

"Because I love you," you said simply, the words flowing from your lips with a certainty that left no room for doubt. "Because I see you, Draco—the real you. And I’m not afraid."

His breath caught in his throat, his eyes shining with a mix of disbelief and longing. For a moment, it seemed like he might pull away again, might retreat back into the safety of his solitude. But then, something inside him seemed to break. His hands trembled as he reached for you, his fingers threading through your hair as if grounding himself in your presence.

There was a moment of hesitation—a beat where you could feel the fear radiating off him, the terror that you might reject him, that this fragile connection might shatter. But you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned in, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.

And then he kissed you.

It was a kiss born of desperation, of fear, of a longing that had been bottled up for far too long. His lips crashed against yours, rough and hungry, as if he were trying to prove to himself that you were real, that you were here. His hands tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.

The fire crackled softly in the background, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heart hammering in your chest, the feel of his breath against your skin. The kiss was hot, desperate, filled with all the emotions you had both been holding back for so long. Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, was a silent apology, a promise, a plea.

But slowly, the kiss began to change, the frantic desperation giving way to something softer, something more tender. The anger, the frustration, the fear—it all melted away, leaving behind a warmth that spread through your chest like the glow of the fire beside you. His touch grew gentler, his hands moving from your hair to cup your face with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other’s. The world outside the small study room ceased to exist—there was no war, no expectations, no fear. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world falling away.

Draco’s eyes were filled with something you hadn’t seen in so long—hope.  

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the crackle of the fire. "I’ve been such a fool... I thought... I thought I was protecting you by pushing you away."

You shook your head, tears welling up again, but this time they were tears of relief, of joy.  

"We protect each other, Draco," you said, your voice steady. "That’s what it means to love someone. You don’t have to carry this alone anymore."

He let out a shaky breath, his hands still cradling your face as if you might disappear if he let go. The firelight danced in his eyes, casting shadows that couldn’t hide the soft smile that finally tugged at his lips—a real, genuine smile that you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice cracking again, but this time from relief rather than pain. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, this one slow and gentle, a promise of the future you were determined to build together, no matter how difficult it might be.  

"I’m not going anywhere, Draco," you murmured against his lips. "We’re in this together."

And as the fire crackled softly beside you, casting its warm glow over the two of you, it felt like for the first time in a long while, things might actually be okay. 

Because in that small, dimly lit study, surrounded by shadows and secrets, you had found the one thing that mattered most—each other.

The Slytherin common room was quiet, the once roaring fire reduced to glowing embers, casting a soft, warm glow over the room. The shadows danced gently on the stone walls, the only sound the faint crackle of the dying flames. The castle had fallen into its usual nighttime hush, and for once, there was a sense of calm that neither of you had felt in weeks.

You and Draco sat together on the old, worn leather couch, wrapped up in each other’s presence. It was a simple moment, yet it felt profound after everything you had gone through. Draco’s head rested on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck as he let out a slow, contented breath. His fingers were intertwined with yours, his grip warm and steady, as if he was afraid to let go.

The silence between you was comfortable now, no longer thick with tension or unspoken words. Instead, it was filled with something softer, something that spoke of new beginnings and fragile hope.

"I know I’ve been difficult," Draco murmured, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if he were still unsure of where he stood. He didn’t lift his head from your shoulder, but you could feel the way his fingers tightened around yours, as if drawing strength from your touch.  

"But I’m going to try," he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper. "For you. For us."

Your heart swelled at his words, a warm, comforting feeling spreading through your chest. You turned your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of him.  

"We’ll figure it out, together," you promised, your voice steady and full of conviction. Your fingers traced gentle circles on the back of his hand, a soothing rhythm that seemed to ease the last remnants of tension from his shoulders.

For a while, you simply sat there, wrapped up in the quiet, the weight of the past few weeks slowly lifting off your shoulders. The castle outside was silent, the world beyond the common room a distant memory. In this moment, it was just the two of you—no secrets, no fears, just the warmth of each other’s presence.

Draco shifted slightly, lifting his head to look at you. His eyes, which had been so cold and guarded for so long, were now soft, filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache in the best way possible. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was gentle, slow, and filled with all the promises of a new beginning.

As he pulled away, he kept his forehead pressed to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the room.  

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "For not giving up on me."

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in months. You pressed another soft kiss to his lips, a silent assurance that you were in this for the long haul.  

"I never will," you murmured against his lips, your words barely more than a breath. "We’re in this together."

The fire in the hearth gave one last, soft crackle before fading into glowing embers, the shadows around you deepening. But neither of you noticed. You were lost in each other, the warmth of your embrace enough to ward off the chill of the dungeons.

As the castle settled into peaceful stillness, you and Draco stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that things wouldn’t be perfect, that there would still be challenges ahead. But you were willing to face them together, side by side.

And as Draco leaned in to kiss you once more, his lips soft and lingering against yours, you knew that this was the start of something new—a chance to build something real, something worth fighting for. 

The story ended not with grand declarations or dramatic gestures, but with a soft whisper, a gentle kiss, and the promise of a new chapter in both your lives. Because sometimes, the quiet moments were the ones that meant the most.

And as the darkness of the Slytherin common room wrapped around you, you both knew that whatever came next, you would face it together. 

"Goodnight, love," Draco murmured, his voice sleepy and content as he nestled closer to you.

"Goodnight," you whispered back, a soft smile playing on your lips as you closed your eyes.

And for the first time in a long while, you both felt at peace, knowing that this was only the beginning of something beautiful.

[browsing-and-anon-asking]

Jeez you all are so nice man!!! Got me smiling a lot this week!! And it's only Wednesday!!!!

Let's get started!!!

MACCREADY!!!

I like him.

NOW something that's always messed with me is him being an ex-gunner but NO TATTOO??? Come on. So I just made up a blood type, slapped it on and there we go.

Gave him a camo bandana.(not good at making camo, and also, yes, I drew a small penis it's funny)

I always picture him as a guh with slightly muscular arms, but when you look at his chest and stomach, you can clearly see his ribs showing. He needs caps for more things than just buying out Winlock and Barnes!

Scruffy face

I like to think he read a BUNCH of sewing magazines with Lucy and knows literally

Backpack, I forgot his gun, though now that I realize it... but he had a backpack, too! He's constantly on the move and keeps his little belongings near him.

HANCOCK

Adjusted his coat, mostly bc I forgot how to draw it hi sorry

Tried to draw him without a hat since I gave him hair bit he looked... so un-hancock I cried.

Gave him gloves, but made them ripped up :3

Honestly, ripped up American flag goes hard as a belt. Might do the same sometime(I will not)

Another thing is about his hair. I genuinely love the blonde hair idea and think he looks awesome with it!!

I changed up his 'burns', like with his nose, having half of it there. Made on ear purposely shriveled up to be smaller.

~Nick Valentine~

I remember my old art teacher said on colors with the same shades, like yellower browns with yellow, makes for a burning, untrained eye piece. So a good compliment to those are reds or blues! So, yep, I added those to his color pallete.

Yes, Ellie stitched a heart on his jacket over where his heart should be to poke fun at how bad he is at consoling a customer.

It frustrates me when I don't see wires pretty plainly or anything in robots. I LVOE WIRES!!! So I added them

Didn't add too much to him, I mean, look at that original design. Absolutely perfect<3<3

THANKS SO SO MUCH!!! NEXT POLL WILL BE LATER TONIGHT!!!!

[babygirlandmommy496]

Hii there! Im sending out a question to a few big/ little couples here on Tumblr and now I'll ask you both :)

So as of early September I finally found someone wonderful, a friend who I share some hobbys with (I won't say because doxx) who I took a leap to tell about my looong hidden little and ABDL side (Ive been interested since about 2004-2005ish so give or take 20 years) and who just melted and accepted me as their little with open arms with open arms (helps they had a crush on me for ages)

and despite never knowing about ABDL really prior to it the idea of being my mommy just makes her melt, and while it's a bit of a learning curve and not a perfect process, it's been wonderful

But we may soon reach out toughest challange yet, the summer weather. I am Australian.. from Sydney.. and it's approaching summer over here where it can also get fairly humid (it already is quite humid around my area)

So.. how do you both keep the little stuff going over summer, how do you deal with cuddling at night, sleeping comfortably... Going out padded, etc, and even just fun activities ( though we both live in seperate apartments i.e no private backyard) thankfully a short 10minute drive away to say hello to each other

You and many of the other couples on here have been always so sweet to watch just be you ... And also be adorable while doing it

You both have clearly been doing this a while and of course you do more than just little stuff... But any advice you can give... I'll listen for :)

< 3

Thank you for any help you can give

I'm so happy that you have found a caregiver to share this with and find joy and exploring your little side 🙂

I hope you have the most fun this summer being a little baby! My biggest piece of advice is to experiment with different thicknesses of diapers! On really hot days we might prefer a pull-up or a cloth diaper with a single insert. To sleep comfortably and cuddly, we will do a sheet to cover us and do a lot of skin to skin. We also have a fan running in the room and the windows open to help circulate air. Athletic shorts or board shorts in a size up are great for summer! We love going to the beach in the evenings when it is empty and do dinner picnics 😌

[gnabnahc317cb97]

Your little brother's best friend

Pervy Bang Chan

Word count: 3.5k (it was just supposed to be a drabble 🤪)

A/n: Look I don't know okay. Just... yea... I know you're all like what the fuck Cal? I know okay! Big thanks to Chris for sending this pic on bubble today btw. You a real one baby! Please read all warnings carefully before engaging with this story!

Warnings: 18+ONLY! MDNI! Chan is called Chris and he's a fucking pervert, dom Chris/sub reader dynamic, big dick Chris with a noona kink, pretty heavy on the CNC, borderline somnophilia, panty stealing, masturbating (m), sex toys, rough sex, rough anal play/sex, hair pulling, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, etc) oral (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, unprotected anal sex, anal cream pie, cum eating, gagging with panties and fingers, choking/breath play, little bit of spit play, after care (a must!) If I missed something please do let me know and I will add it!

I just imagine a scenario where maybe you have to go out of town for a week or two and normally you would ask your little brother to check on your cats and feed them and he totally would if he wasn’t ridiculously allergic to them but he instead suggests that you ask his best friend Chris to do it. Chris who, unbeknownst to you, has had a big fat crush on you for years! Of course he happily agrees to help you out, so you give him the code to your apartment willingly and without a second thought.  

Not only does this give Chris major brownie points with you since you love your cats so much, it also gives him a chance to snoop around your private space a little while you’re gone. He doesn’t do it immediately though. No. He resists the urge to go for your underwear drawer the first few times he comes over. Ignores the voice in his head that tells him to see if you have any sex toys in your night stand.  

The third day he goes to your place, he can't lie, he's so tempted but he resists but day five he finds he can’t help himself anymore. ‘You can look through her panty drawer a little and that’s it!’ He tells himself. When he opens the drawer he finds a vast array of colors, silk, satin, cotton, bikini cut, thongs, boy shorts. His mouth waters but when he finds the black silk crotchless panties he immediately shoves them in his pocket and then, as if on auto pilot, he turns on his heels and goes for your bedside drawer.  

Even though you are a little older than Chris you always seem so sweet and innocent. He expects to open the drawer and find little wand or bullet, maybe a rose toy and you do have some of those things but the very last thing Chris expects to find when he opens that drawer is a surprisingly large hot pink silicone butt plug. All the blood rushes from Chris’ brain to his cock and without a thought in his head he grabs the butt plug and licks it hoping to taste you on it but is sorely disappointed when he realizes he can only taste rubber. That isn’t going to stop him now though. No, he’s in too deep to stop now.  

Chris, still gripping your butt plug in one hand, grabs the crotchless panties from his pocket, drops his pants and briefs to his ankles, lays back on your bed then he wraps your silky panties around his cock and starts jacking off with them. He starts leaking so much precum as he fucks your panties, imagining it's your silky cunt wrapped around his dick instead of the little piece of fabric. When he can’t control the level of his moans anymore he puts your butt plug in his mouth and sucks on it, still hoping to find a little taste of you there.  

When he feels his orgasm creeping up he buries his face in your pillow and he’s completely engulfed in your scent. Chris cums hard as he fucks your panties, sucks on your butt plug and sniffs your pillow like a pathetic little virgin. Your panties are completely ruined, covered in his cum. He tells himself he’ll take them for now. He’ll wash them and bring them back but in the back of his head he’s already thinking about coming on them again before he does. 

Chris, somewhat ashamed of himself now, pulls up his underwear and pants, fixes your bed a little, puts your butt plug back exactly how he found it, shoves your sticky panties in his pocket to deal with later, feeds and waters your cats and leaves quickly as if he might get caught at any time. You are still going to be gone for a whole ‘nother week. So he fucks your panties every night that you’re gone, dreaming of your pussy, a couple of times he even dares to imagine fucking you in the ass. He cums the hardest those nights. 

Finally it’s the end of the last week that you’re gone. Chris knows your due home tomorrow so he jacks off with your panties one more time, washes them again and puts them in his pocket so he can sneak them back into your drawer when he goes to feed your cats for the last time tonight. Of course every fucking thing that could go wrong this evening does so Chris doesn’t actually make it to your place until well after dark. It is actually so late he would have probably just skipped going this one time if he didn’t have to return your panties but alas he did and that’s why he’s currently punching the code into your apartment at midnight.  

‘Put the panties back, feed and water the cats, get the fuck out without doing something fucking stupid’. He has his plan all worked out. That is until he walks into your room to return the panties and finds you asleep in your bed. You must have forgotten to tell him you were coming back early. His brain immediately screams 'leave now' but his feet make him walk towards the side of the bed you're sleeping on. 'Leave right fucking now!' His brain screams at him louder as he starts to pull back the blanket covering your naked body. 

The cool air in the room makes your nipples harden but surprisingly doesn’t wake you yet. Fuck you’re even sexier than he imagined. He move as if he is a man possessed, the back of his fingers tracing a path down your cheek before dragging them across your soft lips. This action wakes you finally. You jump but it only takes you a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and realize it’s Chris who’s standing over your naked body touching you. You snatch your blanket, pulling it up to your chin, covering yourself.  

“What are you doing here Chris?” He doesn’t answer you just pulls the blanket way exposing your perfect tits again. You don’t fight him, letting it fall to your waist. You sit there shivering unsure if it’s from the chill in the room or from Chris’ intense gaze locked on your naked torso.  

“C-Chris? W-what are you doing?” You ask him again after a long moment of silence. He still doesn’t speak, only licks his thick lips before leaning down to kiss you. Even though you've imagined countless times what it would be like to kiss him, fuck him, you gently push at his chest to stop him.  

“Chris we shouldn’t.” He tries to kiss you again and you push against his firm pecs with both hands this time.  

“No Chris, you’re my little brother’s best friend, it’s not right. We shouldn’t.” He gently grabs your wrists and pulls your hands out away from his chest.  

“Don’t fight it noona, you know you want it too.” You do. You REALLY do. He leans down to kiss you again but you turn your head and he connects with your cheek instead of your lips.  

“No Chris, you should stop, we really shouldn’t, it’s so wrong.” He peppers kisses down your cheek and jaw and you tilt your head back letting him.  

“Why are you pretending like you don’t want me to fuck you just as bad as I want to noona? You’re telling me you just happened to forget to inform me you were coming home early then I show up and find you naked in bed like my own special thank you present, like you’re just fucking begging for it.” To say you are shocked would be an understatement. Sure you had you're own dirty thoughts about your little brother's bestie regularly but you had no idea he ever thought of you like that.  

“Chris, I was just sleeping. I wasn’t...” He pushes his fingers against your plush lips shooshing you before leaning in and finally pressing his pouty lips against yours. As soon as he realizes you’re not pushing him away again he starts to kneel down over you, easing you back on your bed. 

He palms your breasts squeezing them together before pinching your nipples. When you moan out from his touch his tongue invades your mouth. You almost get lost in the moment but when you feel one of his firm thighs find its way between your legs and press against your naked cunt you push him away again forcefully.  

“Chris stop! We can NOT do this! Now just stop it!” Your trying your damnedest to be the voice of reason. Chris huffs out a frustrated breath.  

“Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t.” His lips start trailing down your jaw and neck again and your resolve begins to break as you try and form a coherent sentence and make your point.  

“My little brother... and... we just... shouldn’t... it’s wrong.” As if he didn’t hear a single word you just said one of Chris’ hands trails down your body, his final destination, your glistening pussy. When his fingers slide through your wet folds and make contact with your clit your hips buck and you bite your lips trying to suppress your moans.  

“Don’t Chris... please... stop...” You whispered breathless, but you don't actually attempt to stop him at all. It was really just one last halfhearted attempt at stopping him before his fingers slid back, dipping into your heat.  

“You should really just give up saying that noona cause your pussy says everything but stop.” He pumps his fingers in and out fast and hard and your juicy cunt makes absolutely pornographic sounds when he does.  

“Hear that noona? So fucking wet for me. Your tight little cunt is begging for me to fuck it.” You cover your face with both of your hands embarrassed to have your little brother’s best friend talking to you like this while he finger fucks you. 

“You want me to eat your pussy don’t you noona?” You don’t bother moving your hands away from your face but you nod. Chris spreads your pussy lips open so he can get a good look at your creamy cunt.  

“Say it. Say 'Chris I want you to eat my pretty pink pussy.'” Your whole body blushes furiously at his words.  

“C-Chris...” He looks at you smirking, waiting.

“Say it and I will.”  

“Chris I want you to eat my pretty pink pussy.” He chuckles.

“Please?” He teases you.  

“P-please Chris.” You whine out and as soon as the words leave your lips he dives in and devours you like a starved man. It’s almost embarrassing how fast your climax approaches. When your about to orgasm your legs start shaking and Chris pushes two fingers inside you, finger fucking you as he sucks on your clit, pushing you over the edge while you chant his name like a prayer over and over.

He drinks you in, kitten licking your clit until you push him away. You crawl up the bed away from him but Chris grabs your legs and pulls you back towards him. His shirt comes off and you get your first look at his firm, chiseled body and try to press your legs together to get a little friction.  

“Spread your legs. I'm gonna fuck you now.”  He demands.  

“Ch-Chris no, sto-...” Your argument dies on the tip of your tongue when you see how he’s looking down at you. He stands, unbuttons his pants and drops them.  

“I told you to forget that word. I'm fucking you. Now... are you gonna LET me fuck you noona. Or aren’t you.” Again he is not really asking. 

“Go on say you want my cock, tell me you want me to fuck you.” You chew at your lips hesitant to speak at first. 

“I want your cock Chris, I want you to fuck me.” Chris smiles, making his dimples pop out and he drops his underwear. Only then do you finally get to see what he’s working with and holy fuck! It is BIG. He starts stroking his thick cock as he kneels back on the bed between your legs.  

“Wait! Do you have a condom?” You think just fast enough to ask.  

“Nope.” He cocks his eyebrow at you waiting to see your reaction. He already knows you have no condoms in your little sex toy drawer. He's curious to see what you say but you sit there speechless.

“I guess I’m just gonna have to fuck you raw dog noona.” Then your eyes go wide.

"But I... I’m not on birth control Chris.” He shrugs nonchalantly.  

“So I’ll pull out and cum on your face or you can eat it. Up to you. I don’t care. You are getting fucked regardless.” You take a deep shuddering breath and nod.  

“Fine just... DO NOT cum inside me Chris.” He nods in understanding and you spread your legs wider so he can line up with you but he doesn’t move. Instead he pauses as if deep in thought for a moment. To your surprise he stands back up and reaches for your bedside drawer.  

“Wait don’t!” He hasn’t listened any other time that word has left your mouth tonight and he’s not going to now either. He opens the drawer and grabs your big pink butt plug and the bottle of lube. Your face burns even redder than it already is. 

“Bend over.” Chris does not make requests. Only demands. You hesitate and he tells you again.  

“I said bend over. NOW.” You slowly get on your hands and knees, your ass perched up in the air. Chris spreads your ass cheeks open exposing your tight little asshole then he spits on it and watches you clench. You hear him squirt lube on the butt plug and then he starts teasing your asshole with it, rubbing it around softly in circles, he watches you as you arch your back and push your ass out, aching to have it filled with the silicone toy and Chris doesn’t hesitate to give you exactly what you want. He slowly eases the tip of the butt plug inside you and you can’t help the whimper that comes from you. He spits on your asshole again and pushes it in deeper.  

“Fuck Chris! Go slow.” He hums but continues to work the butt plug deeper into your ass as your legs tremble and you struggle to take it. When there's about an inch or two of the toy left to go he shoves the rest in all at once making you scream out in equal amounts of pain and pleasure. 

Now that the butt plug is nestled firmly in your tight little ass Chris eases you down and rolls you onto your back so he can finally fuck you, just like he's dreamed of. You’re confused for a moment when you see him lean over and grab something from the pocket of his pants, you prop yourself up on your elbows to try and see what he’s grabbing. You already know it’s not a condom. Suddenly you see your black silk crotchless panties crumpled up in Chris’ fist.  

“Open up, can’t have you screaming my name for the whole building to hear while I fuck you.” You open your mouth to say something but before you get a word out Chris shoves your panties to the back of your throat effectively gagging you.  

“Shut up.” He pushes you back onto the bed.

“And lay the fuck down.” Once your back makes contact with the cool sheets Chris spreads your legs and lines his thick cock up with your tight wet cunt. He rubs the tip through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit before prodding at your hole but he still doesn’t stick it in. Your hips buck out of desperation and you hear him laugh at you.  

“Look at you! You're such a fucking slut aren’t you? Still think it’s bad hmm? Think we shouldn’t? Want me to stop noona?” You moan and shake your head no unable to properly answer him with your panties stuffed in your mouth.  

“That’s what I thought you fucking whore. Knew you fucking wanted my cock.” Chris rams his whole dick into your pussy in one hard thrust and your panties muffle your screams. He doesn’t give you a chance to get used to having both your butt plug and his huge cock inside you at the same time before he begins an absolutely brutal pace. You’ve never felt so full in your life and all you can do is grip your sheets as he pounds into you, pushing your butt plug deeper and deeper into your ass with each punishing thrust into your pussy. The panties work at muffling your screams until they don’t then Chris’ big hand clamps down over your mouth to keep you quiet.  

“Shut the fuck up and take it you fucking slut.” Your eyes roll back in your head and you start coming on Chris’ cock. He fucks you harder if at all possible.  

“Oh you like that huh? You filthy fucking whore, wanted to play hard to get but you’re not playing hard to get now are you?” You try and answer but between the panties shoved down your throat and Chris’ hand keeping your mouth covered it prevents you from saying a thing.  

“I said shut the fuck up and take it god damn it. You don’t need to tell me you like it, your creamy fucking cunt tells me everything I need to know fucking slut!” He rams into you rough one more time, then pulls his cock out and quickly flips you, getting you back on your hands and knees, then he shoves your face down into the mattress and stuffs his big dick back inside your gaping hole. Now the panties and bed muffle your screams from the world.  

“Want me to stop? Huh slut? Want me to stop now noona?!” You violently shake your head no against the mattress.  

“No you don’t do you, cause deep down you like it when I make you take it, you like it when I use you like a cheap fucking whore.” You start coming again, juices gushing from you as he continues to ram into you rougher and rougher. The more your cum squirts out of you the more worked up he gets and the more worked up he gets the harder he fucks you, his big cock filling your cunt over and over, rubbing up against the butt plug in your ass deliciously, causing you to clench around him harder. 

“Mmmm yea noona fucking milk my cum from my cock! Take it, take it! TAKE IT!Fucking take it you filthy fucking cum slut, I know you want it.” He gives it to you harder and harder. You try to talk but still have your panties stuffed in your mouth.  

“What’s that noona? Can't understand you." Chris teases you then pulls the panties out of your mouth so you can finally speak.  

“D-don't... don’t cum inside my pussy Chris d-don't cum in me.” Even with the panties removed you still struggle to speak as he drills his cock into you deeper and harder, climbing closer and closer to his own climax.

“You sure noona? I think you actually secretly want my cum.” You shake your head again  

“N-not in my pussy Chris, please fuck, not i-inside me.” He gives you one more hard thrust.  

“Fuck! Fine! I won't cum in your pussy. Picky little fucking cum slut aren’t you?” Before you can gauge what’s actually happening, Chris takes the butt plug out of you and rams his cock into your ass hard. He gives you zero time to adjust to his size which is just a bit bigger than the butt plug you use and he starts going balls deep into your ass hard and fast. He no longer cares who hears you screaming.  

“If I can’t cum inside your cunt I’m sure as fuck gonna fill this asshole up with my cum! Whether you like it or not!” He leans over you giving you every inch of his cock as hard and deep as he can.   

“Make some fucking noise slut, scream for me, beg for me to fill your asshole with my cum.”  

“Chris Chris Chris please please fucking please fill my ass up, pump my ass full of cum please!” Thats it. You finally give him what he wants, giving yourself up to him entirely. He wraps his hands around your throat and squeezes while he fucks you from the back harder.  

“You dirty fucking slut! You cum hungry fucking whore I’ll give it to you alright! 'Don’t cum in me Chris don’t cum in me' and look at you now noona, begging for your ass to get filled with my cum.” You scream out again when he spanks your ass hard.  

“Yes yes yes please please please cum in my ass Chris I’m begging for your cum please!” You manage to choke out the words as he squeezes your throat harder and pushes your face into the bed again. He rams his cock into you hard, one, two, three more times before thrusting into you as deep as he can and coming.  

“Fuck yes noona take my cum you filthy little slut, you love it, you fucking love it don’t you? Such a dirty fucking whore.” Chris pumps all of his cum into your ass then pulls out, a trail of cum follows and drips down your folds. Chris scoops it up with his fingers and pulls you upright by your hair before shoving his cum coated fingers into your mouth.  

“Fucking eat that cum you slut, don’t waste it.” He shoves his fingers up your ass working more of his cum out of you then shoves his fingers down your throat making you gag and drool. He rubs your spit and his cum all over your face and then roughly shoves you down onto the bed. You lay there face down on your bed utterly fucked and out of breath, you can still feel more of Chris’ cum leaking out of your asshole and you can't help but wonder if he always cums that much or if it is just because it’s you. You jump when you feel a warm rag run over your sore asshole.  

“Sorry noona.” Chris whispers sweetly. You were so fucked out you didn’t even realize he had gotten up and grabbed a rag to clean you up with. He gently wipes the rest of his cum off you and tosses the rag before crawling in bed to spoon you.  

“W-was th-that okay?” Gone is all the confidence and bravado he’d had when he was fucking you. Now he is the sweet Chris Bang you have always known again. You turn around in his arms to face him and you run your fingers gently over his face, tracing his brows, down his nose and across his pouting lips before leaning in and kissing them.  

“It was perfect Chris, really.” He smiles at you and kisses you again, nuzzling closer to you before falling fast asleep as you lay in his embrace and wonder just how the fuck you are going to explain this to your little brother knowing there was no way this was not happening again.

[eobe]

Ooohh THIS scene 🥹♥️✨

You drew it beautifully! I‘d love to see it in your digital artstyle, too! 😍

I also saved this frame for more Tech artworks because it hit me unarmed ✨

„I may process moments and thoughts differently, but that does not mean that I feel any less than you.“

I cried a bit when he explained that because I‘d always had the struggle to explain myself and his explanation really helped me a lot 🙈😭

Alright, I‘m crying again now and I‘ll need to draw this piece soon 💧🫠✨

Thank you for showing this 🫶💕

Ooh, I think you should redraw this scene in your style with your new craft supplies! (Rip the blues I guess)

I’m just doing these in really loose and feely in pencil for now thank god lol

Uggh good choice 😭 I 💕 them. This scene 😭😭😭

Might have a hankering to render some of them digitally later 👀

[always-andromeda]

meda, i love you to bits and pieces but sweet potatoes are disguuuuuuusting

[diamondsheep]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BELOVED MARIMO 💚💚💚!!!

[beanghostprincess]

i know ace and sabo aren't overprotective of luffy and they know very well he can take care of himself, however, have you considered that i have severe brother issues and i desperately need these fictional siblings to love their brother an insane amount?

[gingermintpepper]

I saw it in your tag game post that you're also fond of the Apollo-Heracles conflict ��� for a myth that appears in only a couple of sources, it sure has a lot of presence in the vase paintings (no seriously, everytime I think I've seen the last of it, I find ten more)

SO do you have any favorites among the paintings that represent this story??

OMG OMG THIS ASK IS A GIFT. IT IS A GIFT THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR LETTING ME TALK ABOUT THIS

I also think it's extremely interesting that it's a story so popularly portrayed by vase paintings and in such a variety of ways!! It's certainly one of the stories that gets left out of written compilation of Heracles' legend a bit (which is a shame, I think it's a fantastic story) but Apollo had a very peculiar relationship with Heracles in general that I just kind of find amazing (and very, very funny).

Apollo is not a god with any legitimate grudge against Heracles, but he does argue with the mortal a bit like he argues with his favourite brothers 😂Part of why I love the story of Apollo and Heracles fighting over the tripod so much is that it is such a little brother thing for Heracles to be upset with the proclamation his elder brother has given him and so, he throws a great fit, taking up the chair and declaring that he'll just give himself a better prophecy! And Apollo, instead of being a marginally professional big brother, decides to fight him for it until their father has to break up their cat-fight. Like was that not just the plot of the Homeric Hymn to Hermes? Is this not exactly how Apollo treated Hermes when he was a child and now those two are inseparable? 💀

Because of this, my favourite vase paintings tend to be the ones that highlight the personal squabbling between Apollo and Heracles the most. There are some very elaborate ones that have the full host of them - Athena, Heracles, Apollo, Artemis, usually a dog and a doe, I've even seen a couple that had birds and plants etched on them, but the simplest ones that show Heracles about to bonk Apollo with his club out of frustration or depict Heracles nyooming away from Apollo while Apollo (presumably) yells curses about how he's going to fling Heracles head first into Tartarus for daring to take his things? Yeah, those are the premium big brother/little brother things I'm looking for.

(Photo. Marie-Lan Ngyuen)

(Photo. Museo Claudio Faina)

Also the one in the Theoi.com archives is a real classic - perfect energy.

[crescentfool]

What are your ryomina headcanons? I've loved these two since I played P3 FES, and I'm so excited to get back into the fandom^^

hi!! thank you so much for the ask, welcome back to the p3 fandom, it's always a delight to see new and old ryomina fans alike! 🥺💛💙

as for headcanons, here's a "few" i that i tend to come back to a lot! my interpretations of them are influenced from both the source material and other's fanworks, so i've linked to them as i saw fit! hcs in no particular order under the cut because oops this got long (900 word bullet point list, mentions of reload content up to 1/1)

minato's hair is dyed blue (hair originally brown, you can see it in his roots!) and he has a beauty mark on under his left eye. i like mirror imagery and there's definitely a few arts i've rb'd that portray them this way :) (e.g. this one by feliichu and this one by marasschino)

as far as i'm concerned the bathhouse scene from the manga where ryoji's hair down = similar shape to minato? that is canon to me. this art from xierru is a fun depiction of hair down ryoji :D

ryoji is homeless. everyone say thank you foxmulder_whereartthou for this awesome fic it's why i have the headcanon! but like seriously. we have no idea where ryoji lives and i could believe this.

minato dying at the end of the game is sad to an outsider's POV BUT!!! ryomina gets to be together in death for the rest of their lives (this illustration from mafuwara is a gorgeous representation of them as nyx avatar + the seal)!

speaking of the seal, they are like telepathically communicating to me in the great seal together. (mymp3 had a comic wip with this. give it a looksie :D)

ryoji likes cuddling with minato because he's warm :) (something something orpheus has fire affinity, minato is warm by extension and ryoji is cold because he's death)

ryoji's camera roll is filled with pictures of minato! ryoji... loves life, to me. and i feel that photography and journaling are perfect ways of expressing gratitude and capturing the moments in life that are most important to you :3

my other favorite activity for these two is stargazing- i feel like it's something they could appreciate either in life or death (looking at the stars from the great seal...)! they do a bit of this in the fic eurydice's vow by crescentmoontea (P5R spoilers, takes place in third sem it's a very fun fic concept).

between ryoji and minato i feel like ryoji was the one who fell in love first- and it doesn't really click in place for minato that he loves ryoji until december hits (appriser reveal + ryoji transforming into thanatos). its about the realization that ryoji was with him for his whole life and that he gets him like no one else does.

ryoji is like a sad and wet puppy who is so scared minato won't like him back. he is so scared of being rejected by minato to me like. this boy straight up deflates after he does his "i know i said i wanted us to be friends, but... i actually want to be something more." / "what about you?" on 12/1 ???

AND SPEAKING of wet puppy ryoji. ryoji is like. every animal in the world to me. he's a bird. he's a cat. etc. and also ryoji knows every language in the world ever and uses it to express his love for minato. see this fic from superheroics to see what i mean.

both of them are lactose intolerant. "this isn't lactose, it's milk!" i definitely think ryoji would make himself sick eating ice cream and milk he doesn't know what lactose is. (i made a silly poll about this once and the tags were very entertaining.)

i see minato as transmasc or nonbinary depending on the day (schrodinger's headcanons babey they're simultaneously true and not true at the same time!!). either way he's not cis to me and ryoji is like. His Gender. anyway go read this fic by nail_gun for t4t ryomina :D !

ryomina are WEIRD GUYS TO ME!!! they are so strange and they understand each other better than anyone else because of the circumstances of their relationship!!! if you asked them to do the "i wonder what i taste like" meme i think they'd start biting each other (affectionate) tbh but that's just me.

after ryoji gives minato the music box in 12/31 on reload, minato listens to the music box every night in january. this boy has insomnia and also chronic illness to me (things that housing death does to you). but i think he finds comfort in the melody and memories he made with ryoji.

in general, i think it's fun to imagine minato taking ryoji to places and show him things he's interested in! i feel that ryoji takes a lot of interest in minato's life, this isn't really a hc because in reload, minato DOES give ryoji a tour of the school (11/9) and possibly port island (11/12). but ITS CUTE OK! (tangentially related fanwork: this series of doodles from vinnigami: 1, 2, and 3)

not a hc but minato's kindness is like the backbone of their relationship and i think we would not have the ryomina we know and love today if minato wasn't such a kind soul. oh minato.... we can learn so much from you... like ryoji did!

anyway! that's all the hcs that i could think of, thank you for the ask! i had a lot of fun answering this, these two mean a lot to me 💛💙

i hope you don't mind the links to the fanart and fanfic as well, the fanwork people have made for ryomina have really made an imprint on me! if you want to see more of them, i definitely recommend looking through my tag for them because oh. i got a lot of them reblogged alright 😂 (<- SOOO NORMAL)

[imerian]

I think i should grace all of with another charms i did, this time it's galex edition ✨

As always version without doodles under the cut and all details in the tags bc i physically cannot not put thoughts into what i do

[triglycercule]

HELP I DONT KNOW WHAT IM DOING HELP!!! HELP!!!!! its not don yet,,,,,, eoaugh. shoutout to like the 20 coloring/rendering tips and tutorial videos i watched you all did NOTHING to help. GOD. how hard is is to get a tutorial and help for something that actually ISNT naturally intuitive to me???

waaa waaa lineart hard 🥺🥺 waaa waaa sketching hard!!! ok man how about you struggle with figuring out basic color palettes (color is my absolute worst element of art ive yet to even improve on. this backfired on me i shouldve done more coloring pages when i was younger)

[kacievvbbbb]

I actually set myself up with that recent poll. But the results are in

And I guess back to dressrosa it is 😔 *shuffle away the sound of the manacles on my feet clanging, muttering* This is why you can't leave things open to the whims of the people.