#I know it will be winter for a bunch of you but you get the well wishes of my season

[spiderculechronicals]

Coming up with disaster ways Wade could have been leaking money like a seive before Peter 3 got his hands on the finances:

- Wade joined a fancy gym in Colorado in winter so he had access to the steam room for the week he was there, and never canceled. It was $65 per month and that was 3 years ago. (He did this a few other times, different gyms, different cities all over.)

- similarly he signed up for the same streaming services multiple times on different credit cards because he'd forget his password

He also rents apartments when he could afford to buy a condo and doesn't know how to invest wisely but will sometimes get excited and buy an unclaimed storage unit or a bunch of beanie babies that he keeps in a safety deposit box or a time share (Wade, no)...

Anyway, Peter 3 uses pirated accounting software to get everything all in line and Wade looks at him like whelp I made Spidey a white collar criminal, and Peter is just like... idk did you still wanna eat my ass and Wade is like oh wow DO I EVER

[curuniel]

Merry Christmas, Meri Kirihimete and happy summer holiday to all my followers, from one of the first places in the world to see the day ^_^

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I do so love spending an hour and a half watching a character get complimented by drag queens and halfway-abandon his criminal investigation (and annoy his boss) simping for them because he's a sponge soaking up compliments meanwhile his boss is like could someone PLEASE explain why my sergeant is MIA and preening like a puppy that was just told he can finally go walkies???

[snekdood]

the fact humans think its possible to have an entirely animalless/bugless zone is such hubris and such a dangerous thing to try to pursue in general. life would be so much easier if you learned to coexist with the nature around you instead of constantly try to shove it out, an ultimately fruitless endeavor.

[sassyhazelowl]

Temperature: drops to 40F overnight All the Bird: Is this spring???

[wifeiy]

hehehehe i love You my summer !!!🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

u have probably heard/read me say 90% of these yet I still ran out of tags SOMEHOW. one of tehse days we will be together when it rains and Won't that be lovely day. also ride your wave + maquia + eeaao + your name (idk y). Ok i willstop rhere fr. see u in like 10 hours. HEH.

TELL ME WHAT YOU ASSOCIATE WITH ME

COLORS, SONGS, AESTHETICS, PEOPLE, ANYTHTING

[kurouzus]

i saw a beautiful bird the other day and i wish i was able to get a picture of it but alas i was driving and he was flying away. he was a lovely red on top and brown on bottom . and overall Generic Tiny Round Bird shape. possibly a pine grosbeak but i feel like the one i saw had much more brown on the bottom . BUT its the only one ive found so far that fits the bill and also wouldnt have left for winter

[malachitezmeyka]

There's only one thing worse than Russian lit

Russian poetry

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

made it to the end of the first ball of yarn!! she is. Growing Up.

i could switch to a bigger cable to see her better but i don't wanna

anyway! just finished the fifth "CONTINUE CHEVRONS" repeat (what timing!!), so there's only four and a half left before the contrast color switch. very interested to see how much of the second ball of black yarn i need for this--i'm already going through a lot per row, but there's also only four and a half repeats of the pattern with the contrast color, and that allegedly will use one ball or less also. so! hoping to have some extra black at the end, but We Shall See.

now, onward, to Poorly Joining In The Second Ball!

me?? checking knitting books out both to support my library and to avoid paying per pattern??? it's More Likely Than You'd Think

[crescenthistory]

hi! i have this really cute idea for regulus x fem! reader. so reader is a animagus and it’s winter time so sometimes she’ll shift into a their animal form, preferably a cat, and goes seek out warmth. but reader is also besties with remus and knows he’s a werewolf, his body temperature runs a lot warmer then anyone else so she goes to room to cuddle. when that happens, regulus immediately knows they reader is with remus and, begrudgingly, goes to gryffindor to steal reader back.

when he gets there, sirius is pouring and complains to reggie that “your girlfriend is stealing my boyfriend” and regulus snaps back by saying “well your boyfriend is stealing my girlfriend” and reader and remus are amused but their bickering but don’t care.

anon. anon. i am giving you the BIGGEST kiss, you don't even know. this is perhaps the best idea i've seen in a while and so i love you. i will be thinking about this throughout all of winter, thank you.

Words: 3k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, references to previous black brothers angst, disgusting amounts of fluff, best friends can cuddle platonically regardless of gender i will fight you on this, background rosekiller and wolfstar, childhood best friend!remus, implied gryffindor!reader, sirius pretends to be jealous but is not

Note: read more about cat!animagus!reader's shenanigans with regulus, wolfstar and james in Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat & Padfoot vs. Whiskers

When Regulus accepted Sirius’ attempt to mend their relationship, he had expected to get his big brother back in full and no more. The person who understands him best, the boy he needed to lean on – it was all he wanted to get out of it. Perhaps he expected to have to grown tolerant of his brother’s friends, but that was something he dreaded, if he at all thought of.

What Regulus had not expected was to be introduced to and fall head over heels in love with you.

Remus’ childhood best friend, the more reserved one of the bunch that he had always seen floating around with them, but whose voice he had never had to roll his eyes at, thus never interacted with. It bewildered him now how he once upon a time barely thought of you, regarded you.

Now he knew you were delightful, and Regulus was positively smitten.

It had been exactly what Regulus had never thought he would get – an easy love. Like your friends, you were open and honest and loyal to the bone, and it spilled over like honey into your relationships with those around you. Once you caught a glance of his clearly lovestruck eyes, you melted, and the puddle was caught delicately in his hands.

Since then, that is where he has held you. In the palms of his hands, close to his heart. He learned more than he perhaps wanted to know about himself during the process of opening up to you, and you showed him a patience he still is not entirely certain he deserves. But you gave him your time, your moments, your touches and your lips, and he received and received without complaint.

When the two most important people in Regulus’ life – one a fervent, natural devotion, another a sassy, passionate rivalry – were in the same hazardous circle of loud-mouthed Gryffindor friends, he eventually had to capitulate that he could no longer just tolerate them. They were family.

God, what love has cost him.

Regulus walked into his dorm room where you have spent more days than not for the past few months, and sighed defeatedly when all he finds there is Barty laying on top of Evan in some odd position that cannot possibly be comfortable.

“Hello to you too, Black. Thrilling to see you.” Barty’s voice was laced with sarcasm, but there was no menace there as of yet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Regulus grumbled as he threw his bookbag onto his bed and sat down. “You seen Y/N lately?”

“You mean since you were all snuggled up this morning? Nah.”

Regulus rolled his eyes painfully hard at his oldest friend, murmuring a soft sod off before tossing whatever was closest – his pyjama t-shirt – in Barty’s general direction, missing by a good metre. He is a seeker and not a chaser for a reason.

“What of it, Reg?” Evan mumbled, but it was distorted by Barty’s elbow being more or less shoved into his mouth. He could never sit still.

“Just figured she’d be here, ‘s all. She finished class before me.” Regulus falls down onto his bed, curls spilling onto the emerald sheets as he stares at the ceiling, picturing you there and then immediately kicking himself for being that down bad. Then reminding himself with the therapy-speech Sirius has been teaching him, love is a strength not a weakness, it’s good to feel your feelings. Yada yada. "It's been a long day."

“Maybe she got tired of your sorry ass.” Barty laughed at his own joke only to be smacked by Evan’s finally-freed hand.

“Or yours, you sod.”

“Nah, Treasure absolutely adores me.” Barty propped himself up to flash you both a grin. “See, unlike you, I’m fun.”

“Interesting word to substitute insufferable with.” Evan said, leaning his face up from underneath Barty, as if to intimidate him.

“You love me,” Barty drawled before kissing the blond soundly.

“Would you guys please stop flirting?” Regulus’ voice was closer to a groan than anything else. He pressed the backs of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars and thinking of you. Stupid poetic feelings.

“Just because you can’t keep track of your girl doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves.” Barty pointed an accusatory finger at Regulus. “I would classify that demand as rude.”

“Bite me.”

“Only if your girlfriend says yes.” This time it was Evan’s turn of tuning into Regulus’ torture.

“And she would.” Barty winks at him.

This time it’s a pillow Regulus throws at them, and it lands perfectly, smack in the middle of Barty’s face.

“Oi!” He calls as he throws it back. “Either you quit it, or you throw me your jumper, it’s freezing in here.”

“You’re literally in bed, Barty.” Regulus looks at him, unamused. “Just–”

He trails off, gaze falling from Barty to the wall behind him as he pieces the puzzle together and realisation dawns on his face. The other boys seem to have caught on as they both cock their heads curiously at him. 

“Of course,” Regulus whispers, first in marvel and then it morphs into something between exasperation and disgust. “Of course.” At last, he gets a determined look on his face, slapping his palms on his knees as he sits up from bed and grabs his jumper to go.

“Excuse you, what just happened?” Barty says, increasingly louder throughout his sentence as he realises Regulus is headed for the door, thick wool jumper tucked under his arm. “Hey!”

Regulus throws the boys a look over his shoulder, smirking at them and shaking his head before shutting the door and walking off. He barely catches Evan’s “shush, you baby, I’ll warm ya” before he is out of earshot.

A man with a purpose and half a plan stalks off, beginning the treacherous journey from the Slytherin dungeons to the Gryffindor dormitories.

What is the single thing Regulus knows can keep you from him when you’re otherwise attached at the hip? The cold.

What is the one person you go to for anything and everything, especially dealing with the cold? A certain ragged boy with a wolfish smile that he knows is to be found only behind the portrait of an increasingly annoying woman.

“Password?” The Fat Lady asked, quirking a brow ridiculously high as she regards Regulus with a mutual disgust.

“Catulus leonis.” Regulus does not bother holding back the eyeroll at the ridiculous passphrase.

She looks at him a moment or five longer than she needs, almost as if considering not letting him in despite his answer being perfectly correct, before she finally swings open the door wordlessly.

Regulus mutters a harsh thank you, Pureblood upbringing having knocked some politeness into him he is just not able to forego, no matter how severe his beef – as Sirius says – with the woman is.

When he finally approaches the offending dorm, the door opens fast enough to knock some wind across his face, and he is met with a set of black curls and a superfluous frown that both match his own.

“Regulus. Thank Merlin.”

“Good to see you too, Siri. How'd you know it was me?”

"Recognised your footsteps. Now, c'mon."

Regulus pushes in past his brother and his eyes immediately find Remus Lupin’s bed. To the unaware, it would just look like the scrawny boy was innocently laying on his bed, head propped against a mountain of pillows and reading another one of his paperbacks.

However, Regulus knew better and could see the perfect girlfriend-shaped lump underneath Remus’ jumper, shielded by his arms as he held his book over his stomach.

Or, at least shaped like this rather specific form of his girlfriend.

“Hello, amour, I’ve been looking for you.” Regulus’ voice is addressed to the bump on Remus’ chest, but he looks up at him with a quirked brow and a smug smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Didn’t know we were on a pet name-basis, Reg. Good to know.” 

“Absolutely not.” Sirius and Regulus chorus at the exact same time, and Regulus fights back the wince at how painfully similar they are in this moment.

“Reggie,” Sirius finally whines. “Your girlfriend’s been stealing my boyfriend for the past two hours. Do something!”

Despite having a very similar sentiment settled in his own chest, Regulus gives his brother a pull yourself together look as he comes up to stand beside him, near the occupied bed. “I’m fairly certain your boyfriend has stolen my girlfriend equally as much,” he tuts.

“Whatever, just do something.” Sirius waves his hand towards Remus’ still very relaxed state with something a bit too close to a pout forming on his face.

“There’s no need to be jealous, Pads, the poor girl’s just cold,” Remus chides, with a teasing glint in his eye that clearly shows he knows his boyfriend is being dramatic for the bit and not actually upset. "Gotta help 'er out."

“‘M not jealous. I’m needy.” Sirius’ deadpan stare is not affected by Remus’ laughter nor Regulus’ barely-contained snort.

“Glad you admit it,” Regulus says slyly, patting Sirius on his shoulder twice, who immediately shrugs his hand off with a scowl.

“Like you’re any better, you slithered all the way up from the snake pit to fetch her. At least I’m open about it.”

Before Regulus has the chance to retort, Remus puts his book down in his lap and reaches out a hand for Sirius, which he immediately takes. “I told you you could come lay in the bed with us, love,” Remus murmurs and swipes his thumb over the back of Sirius’ hand.

If he did not feel the same way, Regulus would have given Sirius hell for how he seemed to absolutely soften in the sunlight of his boy. “Yeah, I know, Moons, I’m just being theatrical.”

Remus laughs once more, and this time his chest rumbling results in a distinct prrrt! coming from the inside of his jumper. Up through the collar, cheek smashed against Remus’, comes the tentative head of beautiful grey-and-white fur and slow-blinking yellow eyes, still riddled with sleep. 

“Good morning, amour,” Regulus coos, ignoring Sirius’ snort as he drops down to squat beside Remus’ bed so his face is lined up with yours.

You pur, stretching beneath the fabric, a single paw escaping beside your head through the collar as you roll over onto your back. Your eyes remained trained on Regulus, and though he knows cats can’t actually smile, he swears you were smiling at him.

“Sorry to wake you, princess,” Sirius drawls as he looks down at you from where he is leaning on the bedpost beside Remus. “But have you seeped up enough warmth for me to get my boyfriend back yet?”

You make a faux hissing sound before ducking your head down, so it’s just barely hidden by the collar.

Remus laughs heartily, setting his book completely away this time so his hand can come up to rest on your cat-form, petting you through his jumper. “It’s alright kitten, take your time.”

The exposed paw lightly hits Remus’ cheek in retaliation, and this time it is Sirius and Regulus’ turn to laugh at his expense. “Ow! I share my warmth with you and this is what I get in return?”

From the movement beneath the fabric, Regulus assumes you’re nuzzling your head against his chest in apology.

“Amour, I brought your favourite jumper of mine and promise to make you so much hot cocoa if I can steal you back. We can be in your dorm room instead of mine, it’s warmer in there, right?” A smile remains consistent on Regulus’ face as he talks to you.

Sirius pats him on the back, murmuring something about you’re so whipped that he doesn’t bother to pay attention to. 

More movement beneath the fabric, and then suddenly your ears are poking out of the neckline again – because why would you make it easy for yourself and use the big exit, when you can squeeze your way through a tight opening? You’re a cat after all.

Remus seems to be thinking the same as he laughs while you attempt to climb out beside his head, soft fur brushing against his skin and making up for the occasional claw you use for traction. 

Regulus attempts to bite back the coos as he sees more and more of you, recognising your movements as sluggish with sleep, no doubt coaxed into it by finally being comfortable.

“Thanks for today, see you again tomorrow, same time?” Remus teases, head turned towards you as you headbutt him lovingly, finally fully escaped from his jumper and standing on his shoulder. He nuzzles you back and scratches your head in goodbye.

Another prrrt! escapes you in greeting as you saunter your way across Remus and plop onto the small strip of mattress on his side where Regulus’ hands are open and ready to receive you. 

“Hi, sweetie,” he whispers as you allow him to scoop you up into his arms while he’s still squatting beside the bed. He holds you like an infant, tight to his body and securely supported. You immediately begin to purr loudly, nuzzling your head even further into his neck and shoulder.

Regulus does not bother to hold back the slight giggle as your caresses tickle him. 

“Good gods, are you two sappy,” Sirius groans, but when Regulus looks up, there is a wide grin on his face. A slightly teasing one admittedly, but a grin nonetheless.

Then, Regulus recognises where Sirius is grinning at him from – properly cuddled up besides Remus on the opposite side of the bed, arms beneath his jumper, soaking up the leftover warmth from you.

“Wait– how did you get there so fast?” Regulus’ voice is almost incredulous, stopping his greeting of you – earning him a harrumphing meow – to narrow his eyes at his brother. “I didn’t even notice you move from beside me.”

“What can I say; I am a dedicated man.” Sirius nuzzles into Remus’ cheek, not much unlike how you were mere seconds ago, albeit his involved a tad many more kisses.

“You’re weird, that’s what you are,” Regulus laughs as he stands up with you in his arms.

You turn around to look up at him with those big, slitted eyes of yours. When you extend your neck further towards his face, Regulus lifts you higher so you can give him the cat-kisses you so evidently wanted, his lips curling at your touch.

Sirius lifts a brow at the two of you. “Yeah. I’m the weird one.” 

Regulus scoffs at him, but when you continue to caress your furry cheeks against his lips and chin, it is difficult for any menace to remain serious.

“Thank you for your deviant supernatural warmth keeping my girlfriend alive, Lupin, but I’d like to steal her away from you now.” 

“By all means, Black, you’ve already stolen her from me once,” Remus harrumphs, pretending to be some scorned faux older brother but his eyes betray his facade; he is happy for you.

Regulus chooses to ignore it nonetheless.

“Brother.” He nods at Sirius. “Soon to be brother-in-law.” He nods at Remus. “We bid you goodnight.”

“Try not to undo all of Moony’s hard work by freezing her right back up with your freakishly cold feet!” Sirius calls after him as he heads towards the door. He then promptly gives out a soft yelp that indicates Remus corrected him in some physical way.

“Goodnight love, goodnight Reg,” Remus calls instead.

“Yeah, bye, doll!” Sirius adds, whispering more to himself, “he’s mine again now.”

You give out a tired meow that is so cute it makes Regulus’ heart clench with endearment. You cuddle properly up into the crook of his neck as he carries you out, softly closing the door behind him with a smile.

He shifts you in his grip so he can look down at you more carefully. “You are so unbelievably predictable. And even cuter than that again, which is saying something,” he murmurs to you and you respond with quiet meows.

He looks at you curiously. “Are you going to remain in cat form the whole night?”

Your tail twitches teasingly, your only other response is a quiet prrt as you close your eyes into the warmth of his neck again. He laughs, covering your feline body with his hands as he carries you, to keep the warmth in.

He sneaks into your dorm – thankfully often unoccupied as Marlene is with Dorcas and Mary is with Pandora – and settles you down onto your plush mattress and pillows. He undresses and gets ready for bed, while you’re resting your head on the pillow, observing him, but just before getting under the covers, he slips on his jumper.

“It’s so soft I could cry, Reggie,” you had whispered to him when you cuddled up to him when he wore it around you for the first time. “I fear I can never let you go now.”

Regulus slides under the blankets with a knowing smile, opening the hem, allowing you to creep under, chest against chest with your head poking out of the collar to rest at the bottom of his neck. 

“I'm no werewolf, but I’ll keep you warm with my love, amour,” he whispered to you in the dark, one hand combing through your fur protectively underneath his own jumper.

He swears, he could hear the little cat snort against his skin.

Regulus fell desperately deeper in love.

[cloudtransprncy]

Just The Tip

AESPA Winter X Male Reader | 3700 words

"Just the tip," you whisper, knowing damn well that once she feels you stretching her open, there’s no turning back.

Tags: Choking, light restraint, dom/sub undertones, unprotected sex, creampie, forced quiet, risk of getting caught, slight dub-con elements

Your mouth is on hers, hungry, demanding, swallowing the soft gasp that escapes her lips. Your tongue pushes past her teeth, claiming her, tasting her, making her whimper into your mouth. Fuck, she tastes good—like the wine from dinner and something sweeter, something that's just her.

You don't know how it got to this.

But does it even matter at this point?

Winter is beneath you, wide-eyed, breath uneven, her body already betraying her. The cabin air is thick with the scent of pine and summer heat, but all you can focus on is her—how she's splayed out beneath you on the bed, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from your kisses, parted like she's about to say something but keeps swallowing the words before they can form. Her body is warm, soft where you hold her, a contrast to the sharp tension crackling between you both, something unspoken but undeniable.

Your sister is just down the hall.

Your parents are in the next room over, sleeping, completely unaware of what's happening—what's about to happen. The thought should stop you. It should make you hesitate, reconsider, anything.

It doesn't. It just makes your cock harder, the forbidden nature of it all making your blood run hotter.

Her messy bun is coming undone, strands of blonde slipping loose around her face, framing the flush creeping up her cheeks. Her pendant—the tiny, delicate one she never takes off—catches the moonlight from the window, rising and falling with every uneven breath. The long sleeves of her shirt are pushed up, bunched at her elbows, fabric soft and slightly wrinkled from where your hands have gripped at her.

You slide your hands up her sides, pushing her shirt up to reveal the taut skin of her abdomen. She shivers as the cool air hits her exposed flesh, muscles flexing beneath your touch. You can't tear your eyes away from how her stomach tightens with each ragged breath, the way her ribs show just slightly beneath soft skin. She flinches, a half-hearted attempt to cover herself, but you pin her wrists above her head with one hand.

"Let me look at you," you growl, and she bites her lip, torn between wanting to hide and wanting to be seen.

"We really shouldn't," she whispers, but her back arches subtly, her body contradicting her words. "What if someone hears?"

You push the shirt higher until her bra is exposed—simple, cotton, nothing fancy, but the way her tits strain against the fabric makes your mouth water. You can see her nipples hardening, pressing against the thin material. You lower your head, dragging your tongue across one peak through the fabric, feeling it tighten further. She arches into your mouth, a choked sound escaping her lips.

"Shhh," you warn, your free hand sliding down between her legs where she's completely bare and already dripping. "You gotta be quiet, baby."

"Oh god," she whimpers, trying to press her thighs together but failing against your strength. "You're so much bigger than I thought you'd be."

Your cock presses against her entrance, heavy, throbbing. Just the tip, nothing more—just enough to feel the way she's slick, hot, inviting. You can barely breathe from how much you want her, from how close you are to ruining this moment, this fragile hesitation that's keeping her from pushing you away.

She whispers, "We shouldn't." Her voice breaks on the second word, trembling with both desire and doubt. "We can't. It's wrong."

Her body doesn't pull back, but her eyes dart nervously toward the door. Her hips stay tilted just so, thighs trembling as if they're fighting to close but can't bring themselves to do it. If anyone wakes up, if someone hears, this doesn't just become a mistake—it becomes something you can't take back.

"You're so fucking wet," you murmur against her ear, your fingers sliding through her folds, gathering her slick before bringing it to your mouth. You suck your fingers clean, watching her eyes widen at the obscene display. "Taste so good I could eat you for hours."

"No, don't," she protests weakly, but her hips betray her, rocking against your hand. "That's so filthy." Yet her breath catches, her voice dropping to a desperate whisper. "But I need it."

Your voice drops lower, teasing, thick with a promise you both know you won't keep. "It's okay. Just the tip."

A flicker of hesitation. A sharp inhale. Her hands flutter against your grip, testing your hold. But she doesn't say no.

You press forward just a little, and the second your cock pushes past her entrance, her entire body tightens beneath you. She's so fucking tight, her cunt stretching around you in slow, pulsing resistance before yielding, letting you sink just that much deeper. You both gasp, sharp and shallow. Her nails dig into your arm, her fingers curling, but she doesn't push you away—doesn't tell you to stop.

"It's too big," she whines, her head thrashing slightly on the pillow. "I can't—you won't fit. Oh god, you're stretching me so much."

Her breath catches in her throat, a whimper that she tries to swallow down, but you hear it anyway. Feel it, in the way her thighs tremble beneath your hands—bare, smooth, but not completely.

She's shaved, but there's a faint prickle under your palm, the softest roughness just beginning to grow back. It's subtle, just enough to feel, just enough to remind you that this is real, that she's real, naked beneath you, trembling, wet.

"Your pussy's so tight," you whisper, and her eyes roll back slightly at your words. Her pendant shifts against her collarbone as she swallows hard. "Been thinking about fucking you for so long."

"We shouldn't," she says again, more desperate now. "We can't do this. We—" but her words dissolve into a soft moan as you push in another inch. "Oh fuck, you're going to ruin me."

You bring your fingers to her throat, thumb brushing against the delicate skin there. Not squeezing. Not yet. Just a warning. A reminder that she can stop this at any moment.

She doesn't.

"This is wrong," she whispers, but her body arches into your touch, contradicting her words. Her pussy clenches around your tip, like she's trying to pull you deeper. "But I need it so bad. Need you inside me."

Her thighs tense, muscles fluttering beneath your grip. But you keep her pinned down, spread open, locked in place beneath you. The pendant around her neck dangles slightly, catching the dim cabin light, shifting with every shallow breath she takes.

"Just the tip," you murmur again, voice thick, coaxing.

But you both know that's a lie.

She shifts—just a little, a reflex, a reaction—but it's enough. Enough for your cock to slide in another inch, enough for the tight heat of her to wrap around you just a little more, enough for both of you to feel the moment restraint snaps and neither of you can turn back.

She's dripping, soaking you, slick gathering at the base of your cock where you've barely even pushed in. Your length drags against her folds, spreading the warmth of her arousal, and fuck, she's so wet you can feel it running down your balls, making everything that much harder to control.

"Fuck…" she breathes, the word slipping out on a strangled gasp, barely audible. She bites down on her lip, hard, as if that will stop another sound from escaping. As if it will stop the truth from settling between you.

"Tell me to stop."

The words hang in the thick air, heavy, offering an out she won't take.

Silence. Then, almost imperceptibly, she shakes her head. "Don't stop," she whispers, the admission clearly costing her. Her fingers clutch at your arms, digging in, anchoring herself to you. "I need it. Need you to fill me up."

You exhale slowly, press her thighs down against her body, locking her in place, keeping her open for you. You can see where your cock is splitting her open, stretching her tight little pussy, and the sight almost makes you lose it right there.

But for a moment, everything slows down. You slide your hand up to cup her cheek instead. Her skin is flushed hot against your palm. You hold her there, making her look at you, forcing her to meet your gaze as you hover above her. Your eyes lock, and something passes between you—something raw and honest that strips away all pretense. Her pupils are blown wide, leaving just a thin ring of color, and you can see everything in them—the want, the fear, the surrender.

"Winter," you whisper, just her name, nothing more. Your thumb traces her bottom lip, still swollen from your kisses. She trembles beneath your touch, vulnerable in a way that has nothing to do with being naked.

"I shouldn't want this," she confesses, voice so quiet you almost don't hear it. "But I do. I want it so much. Want you inside me. Want you to cum in me."

Her lashes flutter, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. You move your hand back to her throat, just enough pressure to make her gasp, just enough to watch her lips part in something between a plea and surrender. Her pulse flutters against your palm, frantic, but she doesn't try to stop you. The pendant at her throat taps against your wrist with every thundering heartbeat.

The fabric of her long-sleeve shirt is bunched at her wrists now, twisted from where she's been gripping the sheets, knuckles white. Your hand leaves her throat to slide between your bodies, finding her clit with your thumb, circling the swollen bud.

"You knew this was gonna happen."

Her lips part again, and this time, she doesn't argue.

The moment you bottom out, it's over.

Winter's hands fly to your wrist, nails sinking deep into your skin, not to push you away but to hold on, to ground herself against the overwhelming stretch of you inside her. She's gasping, barely breathing, each ragged inhale broken by the weight of your grip around her throat. Her pulse thrums beneath your fingers, frantic, erratic, like a trapped bird.

"Oh god," she cries out, too loud in the quiet cabin. "You're too big. You're stretching me too much."

"You can take it," you murmur, voice thick with lust, pressing deeper, grinding your hips down until she whimpers. Her pussy stretches around you, tight and slick, gripping your cock like it was made for you. Her body trembles beneath you, chest rising unevenly, legs twitching where you've pinned them open. "Fuck, you're taking my cock so well."

"Please," she begs, though what she's begging for isn't clear even to her. Her hands push weakly against your chest, but her hips keep rocking, seeking more. "It hurts but don't stop, please don't stop."

Your free hand slides up her body, finding her breast through the thin fabric of her shirt. You can feel her nipple harden under your palm as you squeeze, rough enough to make her gasp. The cotton barrier is frustrating, but there's something filthy about having her half-dressed like this, completely bare from the waist down, cock buried deep while her shirt still clings to her upper body.

"Should've torn this off you," you growl, bunching the fabric of her shirt in your fist, tugging it up to expose more of her. "Wanna see these tits bounce while I fuck you."

"No, someone might see," she protests, even as she arches her back, pressing her breast more firmly into your hand. "Someone might hear us."

The bed creaks. You freeze.

Your sister is asleep just down the hall. Your parents are in the next room. If anyone hears—

But then Winter clenches around you, fluttering, pulsing, already too fucked out to care. Her walls squeeze so tight it's dizzying, the slick heat of her drawing you in, making it impossible to think about anything else. Her eyes are glazed over, lips parted, cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and pleasure she can't hide.

You loosen your grip on her throat, letting her take in a desperate gulp of air—only to tighten your fingers again the moment a sound escapes her lips. A muffled moan, cut off as her lashes flutter, as her body jolts beneath you. The sight of her struggling for breath, completely at your mercy, makes your cock throb inside her.

"Shhh." Your warning comes with a twist of your hips that makes her eyes roll back.

She nods frantically, eyes wet with unshed tears, body twitching in your grip, obedient even as she shakes. A whimper escapes her, too loud in the quiet room, and she slaps her own hand over her mouth, biting down on her fingers to keep quiet.

"I can't be quiet," she whispers desperately against her fingers. "It feels too good. You're too deep."

You pull her hand away, replacing it with two of your own fingers, pushing them between her lips. "Suck," you command in a harsh whisper. She obeys immediately, tongue swirling around your digits, eyes locked on yours as she hollows her cheeks. It's obscene, the way her mouth works around your fingers while her pussy grips your cock. You push them deeper, making her take them to the knuckle, watching her throat work as she struggles not to gag.

"Such a dirty girl," you whisper. "Acting all innocent then taking my cock like you were made for it."

You don't slow down. If anything, you make it worse for her—slow, deep thrusts, dragging every inch through the mess between her thighs, keeping her on edge, making sure she feels every second of it. You can feel your cock dragging against that spot inside her that makes her whole body jerk.

She reaches for you suddenly, hands clutching at your shoulders, nails digging in as she pulls you closer. Her legs wrap around your waist, changing the angle, taking you even deeper. The new position has you hitting something that makes her bite down hard on your fingers, her body shuddering beneath you.

You pull your fingers from her mouth, tracing the wet digits down her chin, her throat, between her breasts, leaving a glistening trail on her skin. "You like that?" you ask, adjusting your hips again, making sure to hit that same spot. "Right there?"

"Yes," she admits shamefully, her resistance crumbling. "Fuck me harder. Please. I need it deeper."

She nods frantically, eyes wide, desperate. Her hands move to your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you down until your foreheads touch. You're sharing breath now, mouths close enough to kiss but not quite touching. You can feel every gasp, every whimper.

"I shouldn't want this," she confesses in a broken whisper. "Shouldn't want your cum. Shouldn't want you to knock me up. But I do. I want it so fucking bad."

The intimacy of it almost breaks you. You pull back slightly, shifting your attention to where your bodies join. You hook one of her legs over your arm, opening her wider, changing the angle again. The sight of your cock disappearing into her, slick and glistening with her arousal, has you transfixed.

"Look at how well you take me," you say, voice strained, slowing your pace to make her feel every inch. "So fucking perfect."

"It's too much," she whines, even as her hips chase yours. "Too big. You're ruining me for anyone else."

She's too sensitive, too overwhelmed, but you don't stop. She's past the point of being able to resist, past the point of pulling away. Her pussy is making obscene wet sounds with every thrust, so fucking soaked that it's running down the curve of her ass, staining the sheets beneath you both.

Your thumb finds her clit, swollen and slippery, and the moment you touch it, her whole body jerks like she's been shocked. You circle it slowly, deliberately, feeling how it pulses under your touch.

"Please," she whispers, the word barely audible, her first real plea since this started. You're not sure if she's begging you to stop or continue, and you don't care. You press down harder on her clit, rubbing faster, matching the rhythm of your thrusts.

"God—" she breathes, barely able to form words, her mouth struggling to work. "It's so—so deep. Your cock is so big. I can feel you in my stomach." Her voice is like crushed velvet, hushed and broken. Her pendant swings with each thrust, catching the light in hypnotic flashes.

Her hands grip your arms now, holding on for stability as you pick up the pace. The rhythm changes from slow and deep to something more urgent, more primal. Her breathing quickens, shallow and ragged, little puffs of air against your face.

"I can't—" she gasps, her words cut off by a particularly deep thrust. "I'm getting close." The admission is almost shameful, whispered like a secret against your neck. "Please, I need to cum on your cock."

You press her thighs wider, holding them open with bruising force. The position lets you watch everything—the way her stomach tenses with each thrust, how her breasts bounce slightly beneath her shirt, the way your cock stretches her open, the slick mess of her arousal coating both of you.

"I said just the tip," you taunt, voice rough with exertion, with need. "Look at you now. Taking every fucking inch."

"I know," she whimpers, shame and arousal mixing in her voice. "I'm such a slut for you. Can't help it. Need your cock so bad."

Her whimpers turn into silent screams, mouth open, lips trembling, thighs quivering beneath your grip. She's too far gone, helpless to stop what's coming, unable to do anything but take it. Your fingers are soaked with her arousal as you work her clit, switching between gentle circles and firm pressure, watching how each touch makes her react differently.

She's so close. You can feel it in the way her pussy tightens around you, in the desperate, broken sounds she's trying not to make. Her breathing becomes erratic, shallow, her entire body tensing beneath you.

"I'm gonna cum," she whimpers, the words barely audible. "Please, please don't stop. Fill me up. Want your cum so bad. Want you to breed me." Her confession makes your cock throb, the desperation in her voice pushing you closer to your own edge.

She grabs your wrist where you're working her clit, not to stop you but to press your fingers harder against her. Her eyes are pleading, desperate, silently begging for release. You give her what she wants, increasing the pressure, circling faster, feeling her body wind tighter and tighter.

"Gonna fill this tight little pussy," you whisper against her ear, biting down on her earlobe. "Gonna pump you so full you'll feel me for days. Put a baby in you."

The words make her clench around you again, her pussy gripping your cock like she's trying to milk it. She's right on the edge, teetering, about to break. Her nails dig into your back, dragging down, marking you as thoroughly as you're marking her.

"Cum for me, right now." The order comes as a growl against her ear, rough, absolute. You punctuate the command by grinding against her clit, circling it with your thumb as you thrust deeper, harder.

"Shit! I'm cumming," she cries out, too loud, beyond caring who might hear. "You're making me cum on your big cock. Oh god, I'm cumming!"

Her body seizes, back arching off the bed, legs trembling violently, a choked gasp escaping as she shatters beneath you. Her orgasm takes her apart, raw and violent, the aftershocks making her sob. Her pussy clamps down on your cock like a vise, pulsing, milking you, pulling you deeper. Her pendant swings wildly against her throat, catching the light with each convulsion of her body.

But you don't stop.

You keep working her clit through it, relentless, forcing her higher even as she tries to twist away from the overwhelming sensation. Your fingers are merciless, pushing her past what she can handle, turning her orgasm into something that seems endless, wave after wave crashing through her.

"That's it," you encourage, watching her fall apart. "Take it. Fucking take it. Take my cum."

"Breed me," she begs, completely lost to the pleasure. "Fill me up. Make me yours. Please, please, please."

She's still cumming when you bury yourself deep, when you push so far inside it's almost painful, when you spill into her, hot and thick, filling her up, leaving her ruined beneath you. You can feel your cum pumping into her, your cock twitching with each pulse, her body taking everything you give her.

Your fingers finally ease off her clit, letting her come down from the intensity. You trace lazy circles on her inner thigh instead, feeling the way she twitches with aftershocks, sensitive and spent.

Neither of you move.

The only sound is the ragged pace of your breathing, the soft, wet tremble of her body as she twitches through the last waves of it. The weight of what just happened settling over both of you. The evidence of it already spilling between her legs, a mixture of her slick and your cum dripping onto the sheets.

It was reckless. Dangerous. The filthiest thing you've ever done—fucking her with your family just rooms away, the constant threat of discovery making every sensation sharper, every touch more electric. The memory of her body yielding to yours, taking you so deep, of her desperate attempts to stay quiet as you ruined her—it's all seared into your mind.

A floorboard creaks in the hallway.

You both freeze, eyes wide, bodies still joined, the reality of what you've done crashing over you like ice water.

And it's far from over.

[moreaujeans]

urghdjf i need an interest to just absolutely throw myself into

[exopelagic]

God help me I may have another crush on a straight boy

[carbonfiction]

First bloom

Summary: Frank has a moment of vulnerability as he gifts you flowers for the first time.

Happy valentines Besties!! <33

Warnings?: whole lotta fluff really. nothing much to add other than Frank giving reader flowers for the first time and being a little bashful about it. (M' a sucker for a big, gruff, kinda angry man being a sweetheart to the person he loves alright?) possible horrible writing- a girl be struggling..

Pretty obvious buuut with this im adding frankie to my 'will write for' list bc i am, at my very core and before most fixations i ever had, a frank castle girlie.. With that said my normal Logan stuff will remain!! but i thought I'd get this lil thing out while it feels good in my mind and before i make a million changes- writers block has got my ass again but asks are still open!

Masterlist. Words: 1.1k

Franks feet feel heavy in his boots, each step thudding on the concrete. The streets are quiet, winter air crisp and cool as he digs a hand in the pocket of his jeans as he goes. Keep one hand warm and the other? Well.. That one feels pretty cold and yet, strangely, a little clammy at the same time.

In Franks grasp rests a bunch of colourful flowers; lillies, roses, some little delicate buds he doesnt recall the name of for decoration. 'Oh those? Those are called Babys breath frank!' He hopes you'll tell him with a beam later.

The rose thorns prod at his palm, his grip on the bundle of stems tense, but he finds it doesn't hurt the longer he walks. They just.. Ground him slightly as he treads closer to home. Closer to you.

Theres a peace that settles within him in your presence, he finds; one that seems to dim the darkness that swirls in his heart. You ease the ache that so often sits inside him, Never erasing it, no one ever could but.. You lessen it. Always willing to take the weight from his broad shoulders, if only for a little.

And for that? Frank is greatful.

He knows he can be alot; his grumpiness piled almost as high as his baggage. But you dont ever seem to mind.

You embrace him on the days he needs it but cant find it in himself to ask and keep him at arms length when you see in his eyes that being loved feels stifling; its just how life is with him. Yet you do it all with that soft smile and gentle hand, the polar opposite to his rough lines and jagged edges. Keeping him sane on the days when he believes himself to be anything but.

The hand he dug into his pocket seems clammier now as he pulls out his set of keys, the lock clicking open moments later. Its just flowers castle, pull it together he thinks, stepping back into the warm embrace of your apartment. Given girls flowers before for christ sake.

"sweetheart?" he calls out, gruff voice booming through the hall.

You jump slightly at the sound, placing down the wooden spoon that you had been stirring the fragrant pot on the stove with. Voice calling back "in the kitchen!" with a significantly softer tone.

You wait with your body leaning against the counter, observing how the bulk of him rounds the corner. A large arm behind his back; still in his coat. A suspicious rustle of cellophane filling the kitchen as he shifts on his feet, but still you grin at the sight.

"Got everything you needed" he says, hand digging through his coat pocket with various clinks and russles. In his large hand he pulls out a collection of little packets and jars, placing them on the counter. refills of various spices, salts and even a little box of yeast pouches for bread making sit in a heap; things you were running low on earlier.

you beam that perfect smile at him, murmering softly as you step forward, leaning up on your toes to kiss his stubled cheek. "Perfect, thank you frankie"

He accepts the kiss with a soft hum, dipping his head for you to reach.

But still that arm remains behind his back. He almost hopes you dont notice.. But you do, he can tell.

"Uh Frank?.." you start a little cautiously with that same grin, however this time theres a little glint of confusion added as you step back just slightly. "What are you hiding?"

You stew in his silence for a moment, a crease wedging its way back between his brows. Handsome face suddenly filled with... trepidation?

"Frank.." you start again, a little more seriously as you step closer. By now you're fully expecting something bad; that someones been gunning for him again and hes hurt. That there must be blood soaking through his coat and thats why hes hiding.

But as quick as he paused, he sighs, broad shoulders falling just slightly. that same arm once hidden, now outstretched infront of you. The colourful bouquet at eye level as you take it in, a tiny gasp slipping past your lips.

"Frank castle did.." you begin, hand coming to join his on the delicate stems. Your voice is hushed and a little shakey as your eyes scan up and across his face. "Did you buy me flowers?"

His head moves in a little nod, chest puffing out just slightly as he releases his grip; completly surrendering both the flowers and himself.

"Yeah i, uh.." he gruffs, thinking outloud before he stops; practically looking everywhere but at you. The pot on the stove, the cups on the sink, even his boots. Its then he realises that he's almost afraid to see some semblance of rejection in your gaze; that he's missteped or you dont like them. That this sense of peace you wash over him is about to be swept away; wide eyes and incredulous tone not helping his state.

Frank takes another breath, steeling himself; his walls building back up, before he simply settles on a shake of his head and a huff. "Doesn't matter, 's stupid alright"

"No, no its not stupid." you rush out, remaining close as you eye the flowers in your hand and then him again. "They're beautiful frank.."

"Saw em and they reminded me of you so..." he coughs, a large hand scratching at the back of his neck. "thought I'd get em.."

Frank shifts on his feet, stance widening as you suddenly throwing yourself into his arms and grip him tightly; the Boquet landing on the counter seconds before your impact to his chest. You hold him like that for a few quiet moments before you lean back, resting on your tip toes as you cup a rough cheek.

"Thank you.." you whisper softly, honesty pure in your words. A little bashful grin across your lips as you lean up a little higher. "I love them, really. They're perfect"

Frank gazes down at you gently, a finger of his own brushing over your skin as he leans in, kissing you with such unspoken emotion it could knock you off your feet- if he wasnt already keeping you up.

"Yeah sweetheart? Really think they are all that?" he murmers, forehead against yours, the air of unease beginning to slip from your reaction. Enjoying the endearing heat of your gaze.

Your lips meet his in another tender kiss as you press the words against him; though they hold a hidden, deeper meaning. "Yeah Frank.. I really do"

[onyxdaze]

Goodnight

Sebastian x f.Reader

Sebastian has a crush on you.

minors do not interact ~ 18+ content

You hiccupped. The smell of cinnamon and nutmeg on your breath, and your body warm to the touch thanks to Robin’s spiked eggnog.

“You, okay?” Penny’s voice was sweet and thick like syrup. The lull in her speech let you know she had enjoyed Robin’s brandy-infused concoction too.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, your thoughts hazy and your cheeks flushed. Penny held out a wet plate for you to dry. The wide, round ceramic dish thinned as she laid it flat in her grasp and passed it to you. You took it, dried it with the dishcloth bunched in your hand and set it aside on the counter.

“Thanks for staying to help clean,” Maru spoke while swaying a broom across the wooden floors. She paused next to Penny and kissed her cheek.

“Oh,” Penny giggled and held her small hand against her coral lips. You peered over at the rise and fall of Penny’s shoulders as she giggled for way too long, and you realized you had never seen the mild-mannered bookworm this drunk.

“Yeah, no problem—hey, thanks for inviting me,” you smiled politely and dried your hands with the cloth in your hands. Penny and Maru shared a prolonged, lustful glance. Their eyes round and glazed with devotion. You took it as your cue. “I should probably go.”

“No,” Penny grunted, belligerent. She latched onto your arm before being overtaken by another fit of giggles. When she realized what she had done, she let go of you and took a step back, nearly toppling over. But Maru held out her arms and steadied Penny before leaning the broom against the kitchen counter.

“I think you should lie down,” Maru guided Penny toward her bedroom in the same way Demetrius had done for Robin only an hour ago. You watched Maru cart Penny away. Penny’s feet drumming on the floor as she stumbled. The two disappeared into the hallway and left you alone in the kitchen. A wave of loneliness washed over you and pressed down your chest. You had been chronically single since you’d moved to Pelican town—and as much as you loved seeing your two friends happy—it made you feel even more alone at times.

You peeled your winter coat off the back of a kitchen chair and fitted your arms into the sleeves.

“Heading out?” Maru stood in the doorway while you buttoned up your coat.

“Yep,” you looked over your shoulder to glance at her and stuffed your hands in your coat pockets.

“I’ll walk you out,” Maru turned her back to you and you followed her. “Sorry about Penny,” Maru examined you briefly, “she didn’t realize the eggnog was spiked.”

“She’s fine,” you shrugged and smiled, “weird seeing her drunk though.” A quick loud laugh jostled Maru’s body.

“It is weird,” you peered at Maru’s shiny painted lips as she spoke. A small silence passed. “So,” Maru drawled, “meet anyone…nice?”

A rush of warmth gathered in your face and Maru stopped walking to stare at you. A photo of Robin holding a tiny version of Maru hung on the wall next to Maru’s head. You looked away from Maru’s shining eyes and continued down the hall.

“Er,” you sighed, “no.’

The two of you stood in front of the entrance to Robin’s shop.

“Oh,” Maru sounded disappointed, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had failed her in some way. “Really? I thought you might—”

“It’s fine,” you drew a dash in the air with your hand, “you don’t have to set me up.”

“I know,” Maru mumbled while you clutched the doorknob and gave it a twist.

You could not wait to get home.

But as soon as you opened the door, you heard the whirring of strong winds and looked down to see the ground piled high with snow. A heavy gust slammed the door shut and you inwardly groaned.

“Looks like you’re staying,” Maru’s words rang in your ears and played in your mind on a loop.

The last time Maru and Penny had stayed at your house, the two had woken you up in the dead of night. What could only be described as them devouring each other had echoed throughout the farmhouse. You were too embarrassed to tell them you were awake and turned on your side. Away from them. And tried to go back to sleep.  But it was no use, and you couldn’t look either of them in the eye for a week.

This time felt like it’d be worse. Because prior to the symphony of your friends having sloppy drunk sex, there’d be an interrogation. Millions of questions would be asked about what you thought of every guy you had spoken to at Robin’s winter star party. And as much as you loved Penny and Maru, you preferred your warm bed to the hard wooden floor.

“No,” you shook your head from side to side and turned the knob again, but the wind tugged the door shut. No, no, no, no, your thoughts cried while you rested your forehead on the door.

“You alright?” Maru’s eyebrows rose above her curious stare.

“Yeah,” you lifted your head away from the door and released the knob, “I just don’t want to intrude…,” your voice carried, and Maru’s eyes widened. And judging by the splash of pink splattered across her nose and cheeks, you figured she understood.

“I know the floors are a bit stiff,” Maru spoke quickly.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded in agreement, “very stiff.” Maru covered her shoulder with her hand and scratched her purple shirt.

“I guess you could sleep on Seb’s couch.”

You swallowed hard at the thought. You’d spoken to Sebastian a few times, but he wasn’t exactly a talker. And was always eager to excuse himself from conversation. Even at his mother’s winter star party he hadn’t bothered to make an appearance.

“I’ll tell Seb,” Maru’s voice was chipper now. She was visibly pleased with her solution and walked to the basement steps. You held your arms out, as if to stop her. But formed fists when you realized your fate had been decided, and your arms dropped to your sides before catching up to Maru’s stride.

“Seb,” Maru called to him while knocking on his door. There was no response. “I know you’re in there,” Maru’s tone dropped an octave, and it sent chills down your spine. You heard Sebastian groan and the swish of plastic wheels gliding across the floor. You glanced at Maru staring directly at the door as the knob clicked and Sebastian’s face appeared in the small gap he formed.

“She’s sleeping on your couch tonight,” Maru informed him while pointing her thumb at you. Sebastian’s sight trailed away from Maru’s stern expression to you. You feigned surprise. His piercing grey eyes stood out against his ruffled midnight black hair. He chewed his lip and the steel ring that followed the curve of his bottom lip wiggled.

“Fine,” you watched his lip ring move as he spoke. Sebastian blinked, and his long lashes bounced on his smooth skin. You could have sworn he was moving in slow motion. The bass of Maru’s voice seemed to play in the distance, becoming louder until….

“Hey!” you jumped, and time returned to its normal pace. Stunned, you responded with a blank stare and a smirk spread across Maru’s face like wildfire. “I’ll get you a blanket,” her voice wavered menacingly, taunting you.

“I,” you cut yourself off, trying to find a way to deny what had happened while you nearly chased Maru up the stairs.

Sebastian’s lips curled like a pink ribbon. He left the door ajar and went to sit down on his desk chair. Waiting for you.

Maru pulled a quilted blanket from a cabinet in the hallway and passed it to you.

“You know, I wasn’t,” you struggled to explain yourself while Maru laid the folded green quilt in your arms.

“Checking out my brother?” Maru finished your sentence and Penny’s voice flooded the hall. She was groaning Maru’s name as if to summon her.

“I don’t know if I’d put it like that,” you gripped the blanket, digging your fingers into the cloth.

“How would you put it?” Maru teased while the ends of her mouth reached for her ears. And you contemplated if freezing to death in the snowstorm was a better alternative.

“I don’t know what you mean,” your words were followed by a nervous laughter.

“Right,” Maru laughed, and you felt your friend’s eyes burn through your farce. “And technetium is a man-made element.” Your brows lowered and pressed together while you tried to understand Maru’s reference. But you gave up and decided it was another one of her jokes only Penny would understand. You were hesitant to respond.

“Uh, sure?”

“Goodnight,” Maru chuckled and patted the blanket in your arms before following the sound of Penny’s summoning spell.

Sebastian watched you push his bedroom door open, and his heartbeat took the pace of a hummingbird’s wings. Your body language was rigid, and he wondered why you were so uncomfortable.

“Hey,” you whispered, eyes pointed downward while setting the folded blanket on the armrest of his black couch.

“Hey,” he responded, and you jerked your head upwards to see him smiling at you. A jolt of panic and pleasure shocked you. You smiled back, although you felt like it may have been crooked, or not good enough in some way. At least not as perfect as his smile.

“Sorry to bother you,” seated at his desk, Sebastian watched you unbutton your coat as you talked to him. His insides felt like a knot being tugged tightly.

“You don’t bother me,” his response was immediate. Rushed. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and berated himself for being so cringe.

“Are you sure?” you regretted it as soon as you said it.

“I’m sure,” Sebastian laughed, a little too loud. With his elbow rested on the desk, he lowered his head into his hand and stared down at his keyboard to hide his face from you.

Dammit Maru, he cursed her from the safety of his mind. Did she do this on purpose? How did she know?

“If it’s too much I can sleep on the shop floor or something, you know, I don’t want you to feel like you have to,” your words were jumbled as you strung them together in a hurry. Sebastian covered both his eyes with his hands and took a deep breath.

“The shop floor?” Sebastian laughed and pressed his face further into his palms before raising his head away from them.

“Yeah,” the electric shame you felt made your eyes water. “I can go,” you started to gather the blanket back in your arms, but Sebastian stood. His movements were so abrupt his chair flew backwards and almost tipped over.

“No!” he shouted, and you froze. Sebastian felt like he was moving outside the confines of his body. That you could somehow see all the times and ways he had thought of you. The silence that followed was painful. Your timid hands finished taking off your coat and you laid it down on his couch. Eyes wet and your mind spinning.

“Okay,” you crossed your arms and hugged yourself while your eyes bounced around the room. Focusing on anything other than Sebastian.

“How about something to drink?” Sebastian’s fist pulled at the collar of his black t-shirt.

“That’d be nice,” your voice squeaked, and Sebastian nodded before rushing past you and leaving the room.

You loosened your grip on your torso and lowered yourself onto the couch. You looked straight ahead at the small table crowded by three green stools and took deep breaths. In retrospect maybe listening to Penny and Maru get it on was the better choice. You had forgotten how strained every interaction you had with Sebastian was. It was no wonder he wanted to get away from you as fast as possible. You must have ruined his evening.

You picked at the thick hem of the couch cushion and tried not to cry.

Sebastian returned and handed you a large, plastic cup filled with Robin’s eggnog. It was a lot of alcohol, and you were grateful. Maybe if you got drunk enough you could pass out and this night would be done. Surprised, a small groan vibrated in your throat when Sebastian sat beside you, holding a cup that matched yours.

“I didn’t—if you don’t want to hang out,” Sebastian moved to stand. Without thinking, you reached out and snatched a section of his fuzzy plaid pajama pants.

“Don’t go,” your eyes met. Sebastian swallowed hard and sat back down. It took you a second to realize you were still holding onto his pants. You tore your hand away and turned away from him. Facing the green stools again, you took a sizeable sip of eggnog. You were thankful the effect of the alcohol was immediate.

Sebastian wondered if you could hear his accelerated breath. If you had made note of his sweaty palms yet. This is why he couldn’t bear to have any prolonged social contact with you. He couldn’t understand what he ever did to Maru to deserve this. Even if it was what he wanted, this wasn’t one of the many scenarios he had played out in his head.  

“So,” you both stated in unison, turning your heads to look at each other before immediately looking away. You giggled and Sebastian thought he might combust into a million fragments of himself. He imagined you looking on in horror as chunks of his flesh floated in the air.

“Did you have fun at the party?” he blurted. Everything he said seemed to spill from him like he was in a constant state of overflowing.

“Sure,” you grinned dumbly, eyes settled on the frothy white liquid in your cup. “It’s too bad you couldn’t make it,” you joked and took another drink.

“Couldn’t find a ride,” Sebastian shrugged, and you choked on the eggnog in your throat but forced it down. You faced each other again and a flood of warmth washed over you. Your body tingled and your mind was blank while your cheeks felt strained from how hard you were smiling. Your shoulders relaxed, and an avalanche of relief tumbled throughout Sebastian. “But crowds aren’t really my thing,” Sebastian explained, running his hand through his hair. You bit your lip as you watched the tufts of black glide through the spaces between his fingers. His hand rested on his neck while he waited for your response and took a drink.

“For sure, I get that,” your head bobbed up and down for a moment. “Secretly, I’m not really a fan either, but Maru really wanted me to come,” you winked at Sebastian, and he held his next breath hostage for a moment before releasing it.

“Because they keep trying to set you up with someone,” Sebastian spoke without thinking. You stared at him, eyes wide and horrified. And Sebastian wondered if he had exploded. He certainly felt like it would be a good time to do so. “Shit, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Wow.”

“I heard them talking about it earlier,” Sebastian tried to explain himself and squeezed his neck with his hand.

“I wish they wouldn’t,” you murmured, making an executive decision to start chugging the drink in your hand. The cup covered your mouth and you lapped at the eggnog like an errant dog. You were hopeful for the first time tonight—hopeful you could escape the levels of social hell you had endured throughout the night. If not physically, then mentally. You promised yourself you’d never let Maru talk you into another party again. But you knew it was a comforting lie you didn’t have the guts to follow through with.

“I get it,” then Sebastian took a drink too. And you wondered if he too was trying to dig himself out of the hole the two of you had found yourselves in, and if the attempts at conversation he made were out of pity. Even if they were, you felt grateful he’d even bother trying after being imposed on.  

“Really?” your eyes gleamed. Sebastian swallowed a mouthful of brandy with a splash of eggnog and rolled his tongue across the back of his front teeth. So cute, his mind whirred like the strong winds outside his home. She’s so cute.

“Sam and Abby try to set me up all the time,” Sebastian’s eyes averted your gaze and you looked away from him in the hopes of making him feel more comfortable.

“With who?” your curiosity got the better of you.

“Recent? Some girl from the city,” from the corner of your eye you watched Sebastian lift his shoulders to his ears before letting them drop. They seemed heavy. Invested, you straightened your back and leaned closer to him.

“What happened?” You watched him squirm a bit in his seat next to you while holding his cup over his lap with both his hands.

“She said I took too long to text her back,” the pointed tip of his nose twitched, “so I stopped texting her.” And he took a drink. You stared at him for a moment before allowing yourself to be swept up in a dry chuckle. “What?” he scoffed and twisted his torso to set his drink aside on his desk. He reached out and offered to take your cup. You held your hand out and chugged the last of your drink before handing it to him. You let the brandy hammer away at you, pressing your worries further into the depths of your mind until they disappeared.

“What do you mean, what?” you chuckled and laid your palm flat against Sebastian’s arm. Squeezing it before letting go. Thanks to the alcohol, the knot in his stomach wasn’t as tight now, but he still felt it wrench inside him.

Do you think I’m a bad person for doing that? is what he had wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

“She wanted me to text her like every hour of the day,” he explained himself, in the hopes you wouldn’t think any less of him.

“Oh,” you beamed, “you don’t have to feel bad about it.”

“No?” he cocked his head to the side and wiggled his lip ring with the tip of his tongue. Mesmerized, you studied the contours of his mouth. Sebastian watched your gaze and realized what you were doing. His lips widened into a playful grin, and your body responded with a growing tightness in your lower belly.  “Are…are you staring at me?” Sebastian leaned his head toward yours and you looked away from him. You covered your face in your hands and titled your body forward. “You are, aren’t you?” he teased and swept his hand across your back. When you didn’t recoil, he lifted his hand and stroked your hair. It tickled the tips of his fingers. You lifted your head away from your hands and held them next to your face.  

“Would you please stop pretending you don’t know how hot you are,” you chanted while waving your hands back and forth.

Sebastian’s head jolted back in surprise and held both his palms against his chest.

“Me?” His mind shook like a cave collapsing.

“Yoba,” you whined, “I’m just going to go die in the snow,” you moved to stand.

“Hey, come on,” Sebastian chuckled while grabbing your hips and giving them a light tug. “Stay here with me.” You plopped back down on the couch. Your words had given Sebastian a rush of confidence—but he was still not entirely emboldened—so he let go of you.

“I always thought you didn’t like me,” you confessed.

Didn’t think I liked you? Sebastian’s thoughts protested. She’s lost her mind. 

“Wha-Why?” he narrowed his eyes and for a moment held his hands out with his palms open.

“This is so embarrassing,” you whimpered, tapping your feet against the floors. You stared up at the ceiling for a minute before looking at him. “I don’t know, it seemed like you didn’t like talking to me.”

Sebastian considered telling you how you had made him too nervous to speak but decided against it.

“I don’t talk a lot,” he explained while wiping his sweaty palm on his shirt.

“I know,” you touched his shoulder briefly. A spark of excitement rippled throughout his body each time you felt comfortable enough to touch him. “I guess I kind of hoped…you’d want to talk to me. I know it’s dumb….”

“This whole thing with Maru—you met someone yet?” Sebastian questioned you, a single brow arched. You gazed at him. Eyes half open. Peering past a dreamy film.

Sebastian decided the only way you could make it any clearer you liked him was if you wrote it in sharpie on your forehead. And he was officially emboldened.

Before you could form a response, he leaned closer. Fear and excitement popped inside you. His hot breath trailed across your face, and it smelled like sweet cinnamon. Too stunned, it wasn’t until you felt the steel of his lip ring mark your bottom lip that you kissed him back. Your insides boiling like a pot of water. Sebastian felt your lips melt against his and was slow to pull away. Your lips peeled apart. With your foreheads pressed, and eyes locked, you could both hear and feel each other’s strained breaths.

Sebastain nodded his head yes and you did the same.

He leaned onto the back of the couch, and you followed his lead. You lifted your leg to sit on his lap, and Sebastian’s hand glided across your thigh, pulling you to him. When the crotch of your jeans hovered above his lap, he grabbed your face with both his hands and pulled you closer. His lips cradled your top lip for a few seconds before he withdrew. Palms latching onto your cheeks, you felt his right thumb stroke your jaw.

It was as if he had been plucked from reality and placed inside a shaken snow globe. Sebastian’s body was warm. Light. His shoulders didn’t feel heavy anymore. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good.

Your hands rested on his chest and crumpled his t-shirt. A desperate attempt to ground yourself in what you had to assume was a lucid dream.

His thumb moved from your jaw to the center of your bottom lip. He pressed the pad of his thumb down and watched it dent your lip. You spread your legs and sank further into his lap, grazing his dick with your crotch.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whined, dragging his thumb down your bottom lip before pulling you into another kiss. This time, he held his tongue out and lightly licked your top lip before covering your mouth with his. He parted his lips, and your lungs were filled with his breath. You pushed your hips even further into his.

While your mouths moved in synchronized movements and his tongue fumbled with yours, Sebastian’s hands dropped to your waist and held you still as he bucked his bulge against your jeans. You severed the kiss. With a flushed face, your eyes begged Sebastian for more. His dick pushed against his pants and ached. He took the opportunity to lift your shirt. You took the hint and grabbed the hem to raise your shirt over your head. Sebastian preoccupied himself with unclasping your bra while your head disappeared behind your shirt before reappearing.

Once he finished freeing the last clasp, he was quick to shimmy your bra away from your chest. And even quicker to grab a breast in each of his hands. He paused and admired the sight of his hands holding your tits. Your nipples poked through the space between his splayed fingers. He leaned over and dragged your nipple across his tongue, until the rounded tip of your tit met the tapered end of his pink tongue. He swirled the tip of his tongue around your sensitive mound of flesh and a tickle of pleasure radiated throughout your body. You wiggled on his lap. Sebastain squeezed his thighs together, desire radiating throughout his shaft and pulsating in the head of his cock.  

You slid your hand down his chest and cradled his bulge in your warm hand. Rubbing the cloth around his erect dick. Sebastian let go of your boobs and grabbed your wrist. Guiding your hand away from his cock, he brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Take your pants off for me?”

The nod you responded with was eager, and you teetered off his lap to fulfill his request.  

He hooked his thumbs in his boxers and lifted his hips to pull them off alongside his pants. His cock free now, he stroked himself while watching you undress.

Sebastian held the base of his stiff dick between his thumb and his index finger. You looked down at the cough-drop-colored tip slathered in precum and crawled back on top of his lap. You inhaled sharply as you lowered yourself onto his dick. Sebastian sucked his stomach in to get the best view of his dick entering your wet pussy. He chewed on his lip as the girth of his fat cock caused the glossed ruffles of your cunt to split apart. Once he had bottomed out you leaned forward to kiss him and felt his length slip out of your pussy. Sebastian didn’t hesitate to guide his cock back inside you before pushing your hips down. And then up. Setting the pace he wanted, you followed his instruction.

His fingers pressed against your clit, and you recoiled from his touch, pushing your hips away. Causing him to adapt a lighter pressure, he circled the edges around your clit softly. You moaned and bounced on his cock faster. He didn’t bother to stop you as you used his cock.

Soft whimpers were charmed from your lungs despite your desperate attempts to muffle them. The simmer of your desire scorched into an inferno until the ripples of ecstasy swam in your stomach and released you from the fire.

Sebastian came shortly after you and held your waist as he spilled into you.

[heirofshadowsingers]

Wanna be yours

pairing: azriel x reader

summary: When you fall alseep on his shoulder, Azriel does not know what to do, and everyone are being so damn loud

word count: 2.2K

warnings: this is pure fluff and azzie being utterly smitten and fussing shadows

a/n: hiii! this is the first fanfic i've written for acotar, i've fallen down the rabbit hole lately and made this blog. and i just had this idea and had to write it, thought i might as well post it. hopefully someone will enjoy it<3

Azriel thought he had learned how to master his cool mask. Beyond everything he had experienced as The Night Court’s spymaster, nothing had tested him more than his family – a bunch of busybodies who drove him insane most of the time. He had played the role of chaperone between Cassian and Nesta, had been the one to drag Cassian’s ass out of The Summer Court when he wrecked that building and, for the third year in a row now, he had to re-decorate after Cassian and Feyre decorated the living room drunk.

Actually, the more Azriel thought about it, Cassian was usually the one who tested his control and threatened to ruin his cool composure. 

And yet, despite years of practice, he forgot how to breathe when your head fell onto his shoulder. He had to force himself to remain nonchalant as your luscious scent overtook his senses. The river house was still loud and full of life, and the rowdy Winter Solstice party had not yet reached its peak. It was long past midnight and his family showed no signs of slowing down. The faelights above cast a golden light over their drunk faces as Mor continued to pour wine into all their glasses, declaring, “No one is allowed to go to bed until dawn!” 

Which was why, an hour ago, Azriel had found himself slipping away to the couch in the corner of the room. Varian had joined him shortly after, the two of them chatting quietly while watching everyone else continue their quest to get as drunk as possible. Azriel didn’t know if it had been wishful thinking, or just pure naivety, that had made him believe Winter Solstice would be calmer after Nyx was born, but he had been wrong. After Feyre and Rhys had put him to bed earlier -- Rhys had been the one to pull out the fancy bottles. 

While it warmed him to know that nothing had really changed, that his family was still the same after everything they had been through, Azriel was also the same; he still preferred to wake up the next day and remember what had happened the night before. 

Although, he doubted he would ever be able to forget anything that involved you. You had joined him and Varian in the corner a while ago, stumbling and falling next to him on the couch in a drunken mess. His shadows danced around you as you giggled to yourself, and Azriel thought that the sound of your laughter was the best Solstice gift he had ever received. 

The knitted gloves you had made and given to him earlier were a close second. 

“So your hands won’t get so dry from the cold,” you had told him shyly, your cheeks flushed, and his heart had nearly burst out of his chest. Two days prior you had spotted him coating his hands in a thick layer of the salve Madja made for him, his scarred skin tended to get tight and uncomfortable, and even worse so when the temperatures dropped and the air became crisp and dry. 

He most likely would not get the chance to wear them very often, the soft silky yarn was not made to withstand any fighting or training, and he could not bear the thought of ever losing or ruining them.

But it had still not stopped him from blushing as he opened the gift -- Cauldron, he blushed just thinking about them. The image of you rushing home and knitting him a pair of gloves after he told you how dry his hands became during winter... yeah, Azriel would never forget anything when it came to you.   

And when you sat so close, your body pressing tightly up against his, warm and inviting, there was just no way to overlook the emotions that sparked in his chest. Your words were slurred as you talked about an elderly female you had met at the market earlier that day.

Though, it did not matter that the story you were drunkenly telling him was so ridiculously incoherent, your soft voice still enthralled him. Because if you wanted to talk to him, well, he would listen to whatever you had to say. Always. 

But when your voice had faltered and your head fell to his shoulder, Azriel did not know what to do.

Varian was quick to join the others again when he noticed you leaning on him, leaving him alone with you in the corner. Despite Cassian’s and Rhys’s loud voices booming through the room, arguing about something that had happened during the snowball fight that morning, you had fallen asleep right there on his shoulder. Your lips set in a small pout and your dark lashes resting delicately against your cheeks. 

Azriel could not move, could still not breathe, in fear of waking you. A single shadow brushed against your cheek, soothing and gentle, and you let out a content sigh. It took everything not to wrap his arms and wings around you and winnow away; the urge to tuck you in under a heap of blankets and hold your body close overwhelmed him. 

And you were not even doing anything more than leaning on his shoulder. But it was all it took for Azriel to lose his cool completely. 

‘So beautiful’ his shadows whispered around him. It had been a year since you had first walked into the training ring, into his life, and the shadows had not stopped whispering about your beauty since. 

As you had introduced yourself as the new healer, employed specifically to help Madja with the Valkyries and their injuries from training, Azriel had struggled to restrain the shadows. He had never felt them be so curious before, swirling eagerly around him before darting off toward you. He had managed to call them back just before they reached you, but they had still caught your attention, and when he tried to apologize -- you had ignored him. 

Instead, you had focused on the fresh wound on his chest and scolded him for not having it looked at. He had been too stunned to say or do anything else. 

But the shadows had not lied; you were the most beautiful female he had ever seen. Your hair flowed around you in effortless waves, eyes shining with compassion, and you had not looked at him in fear or reluctance like most did. No, you had reprimanded him and forced him to sit down while you tended to his wound. 

You had owned his heart from that very first day, even if he had not told you that yet. 

“Feyre, look!” Cassian’s voice made him snap back into reality. “There’s your new painting!” Azriel glanced up only to discover that his family had turned their attention to the corner, looking at him and you with knowing smirks.

“Ohh yeah, I can see it,” Nesta mused and bit the inside of her cheek to stop the grin on her face from growing. “'The love-sick Spymaster and his dreamy Angel.'” 

Feyre could not stop her giggles even as she tried to end his suffering, “C’mon guys, don’t tease him. I think it’s sweet. They are taking things slow and at their own pace, leave them alone.” 

Azriel's face grew hotter, and yet, he remained as still as possible, afraid that any sudden movement would make you stir and wake up.

Though, he would have to agree; you were an angel. The kindest, most loving, and charmingly stubborn angel to exist in the world. In any world.  

“Sweet?” Amren rolled her eyes. “You need to grow a pair and tell her already, boy. We are all sick of watching you two dance around the fact that both of you want to devour each other whole. It’s nauseating.” 

Cassian let a loud howl thunder through the room but quickly smacked a hand over his mouth to stifle it as Azriel sent a icy glare in his direction. 

“Shut up,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice low. He let his gaze fall to you again, hoping the annoying chatter had not disturbed you. “You are going to wake her.” 

“I think you just proved our point, Azzie,” Cassian sniggered and shared a mischievous look with Rhysand, no doubt contriving more ways to get under his skin.

And the only response Azriel could think of was, “Shut up.” 

Thankfully, they seemed to take some pity on him as they returned to whatever conversation had kept them busy earlier.

Or perhaps, they noticed how his shadows had moved across the room, swirling along the walls in annoyance, ready to strike at any moment if anyone disturbed you. Azriel released a heavy sigh of exasperation, reminding himself that they were just a bunch of idiots and that he loved them dearly. 

“You know, your voice is far more comfortable to listen to than theirs,” you murmured suddenly, your voice full of sleep and still slightly slurred. Azriel couldn’t stop the shiver running down his spine, his shadows quickly drew themselves back and danced across your smooth skin, checking to see if you had been bothered or needed any assistance.

When he looked down your eyes were still closed, but a playful smile flickered across your face. 

Azriel’s mouth ran dry, “I’m sorry-- I tried to tell them.” 

“I know,” you told him and opened one eye to peek up at him, clearly amused. “I heard you.” You made no attempt to move away from him, and, for that reason, he did not attempt to move either. When you closed your eyes again he could’ve sworn you pressed yourself into his side a little bit closer and, Gods, had it always been so difficult to breathe? Azriel wasn’t sure anyone's presence had ever made him feel so utterly captivated. 

And, he just really, really, fucking adored you. 

Before he could think of a proper reply though, you spoke again, “We should do this more often. You make a good pillow.” 

When your lips twitched into a small smirk, Azriel knew you could hear how fast and hard his heart was beating, and his ears burned from his own awkwardness. So all he said was, “I think it’s time to get you to a real bed.” He shifted his body to get up, lifting his arm to wrap around you. “C’mon, I’ve got you,” he kept his voice low; only for you to hear. Your slender hand stopped him, pressing into his thigh dangerously high, forcing him to remain on the couch. 

“Noo,” you pouted. “Please don’t make me move yet... can’t we stay here like this for a couple more minutes?” It did not help his poor racing heart slow down. “...Or maybe even an hour?” 

And how could he deny you that when you looked at him with those beautiful eyes? How could he ever deny you anything? 

“Fine... here,” he mumbled and reached for an actual pillow, placing it in his lap. “At least lay down so you won’t strain your neck.” 

The smile that broke out over your face; it needed to be Feyre’s new painting. Perhaps he would have to let her into his head, let his High Lady see your joyful eyes and glowing face, to make sure your smile could be captured forever for everyone to see. 

As you settled down, your head now resting in his lap, Azriel could not help himself. He let his hand fall to your head, threading his fingers through your soft hair. His shadows settled on his shoulders, peering down at you as well, and he could not focus on anything else. The world could be on fire and he would not have been able to tear his eyes away from you. 

“Azzie, stop looking like that.” 

You glanced up at him again, brows knitted together in a small frown, and Azriel couldn’t stop himself from laughing, “Stop looking like what?” 

There was a moment of silence, the hollering of his family a distant background noise, as your eyes met his. The sparkle in his chest became more intense, impossible to control, and even as you tried to look annoyed with him, the smile twitching at the corner of your mouth gave you away. 

Eventually you huffed and curled into him a little more, “... you’re lucky you're so beautiful.” 

And as you pulled his hand away from your hair and laced your smaller fingers through his, Azriel knew there was no turning back -- knew that there was no one else. 

He raised your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it before whispering, “You are beautiful.” 

Azriel thought he had learned how to master his cool mask, but when a golden thread weaved itself between his soul and yours, Azriel realized he was more than willing to let his mask slip for you.

ps, english is not my native language, so if there was any spelling or grammar issues; sorry! Thank you for reading <3