#but it’s 1 am and i am in bed (as i should be)

[tame-the-lion-writes]

FLUFF TIME!! (While I’m in class don’t mind me) Reader and her boys surrounding her, everytime she heads to bed the boys follow, and when she has to get up, they whine (Soap). Why is she leaving? Isn’t it cuddle/eepy time?? Whenever she has delivery and has to receive it at the door (and has to leave in bed) they whine but follow anyways.

9/10 chance one of them tugs her clothe towards the bedroom because they are eepy and want to sleeb and that means it’s also her sleeb time.

Imagine she to take work home and is in bed typing in her laptop at 1 AM (while the sound of the keyboard is luring them to sleep, the light is a bother). One of them just pushes the laptop close and softly borks (it is past eepy time)

(I, too, am currently in class as I write this, and should probably pay more attention because we're covering Fourth Amendment rights BUT ANYWAY—also combining this with another Anon’s ask bc they were talking about their German Shepherd getting them to bed on time lol)

The boys may be strange and chaotic, but they're always hell bent on taking care of you. And that often means forcing you to take care of yourself.

Before them, you were just barely clinging to life. Now that you were out of university, there was no rigid routine to keep you in line, so you kinda just... fell apart. An inconsistent sleep schedule with 2-3 hour naps in the afternoon, only to stay up 'til 4 AM. Skipping breakfast because some days, you'd wake up at 11. And on days when you did have breakfast, it would just be a leftover slice of cake or pie, because you didn't wanna cook.

Things have gotten much better since you adopted these weird floofsters, seen as you've finally set an alarm so you can walk them in the morning, and are forced to buy groceries on a regular basis. Still, that doesn't mean there aren't tougher days when you fall back into old habits. That's when the boys come to the rescue.

Nobody eats until you eat. It's like a pact between them—even Soap refuses, and he's the most voracious eater. Price also insists that you eat properly—even when you're picky, he'll refuse to budge unless you grab some fruits and veggies from the supermarket. And Gaz straight up sneaks snacks into your cart when you're not looking, so you only notice when you're already in the check-out line, and it would be rude to go back. They also tug on your clothes or nip you to get you to bed on time.

You’re allowed no more than seven hours of sleep minimum—and bed is, at latest, midnight. Whereas the other boys are more occupied with taking care of your daytime activities, Ghost, true to his breed’s instincts, herds you at night; he’s the first follow you out of bed if you try and sneak away, and he WILL stare creepily at you while blocking the doorway if you attempt to leave the room. The intimidation is extra effective in the dark and you see those reflective eyes peering out from the shadows. At first, you panicked and threw a blanket at him so he'd stop with his cryptid-ness. Nowadays, you throw the blanket over yourself, knowing he’s not gonna let you crawl back to your laptop.

You've tried to control his herding instincts by following tips on YouTube and Reddit, but it's like bargaining with a brick wall. Sleep—or else.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You still don’t know what to call the man. Captain? Rogers? He’s just the man to you. The stranger who doesn’t speak. 

He doesn’t linger. You can’t help but wonder if it’s some game. If he’s playing with you. His stoicism is just another weapon against you. As he leaves, you sit, stunned and lost. Alone. 

The front door of the cabin shuts you in but you don’t know that you would have the courage to let yourself out. The man found you once; unbidden and unexpected, you’re certain he could do it again and again and again. So, you wait until you’re certain the house is empty before you get up. 

You fix the nightgown and hug yourself as you peek through the open bedroom door. You emerge warily and glance through to the bathroom. The front room once jars you further. You forgot how cozy, how normal it seams. 

You wander around the frayed rug and inspect every piece of furniture. A draft runs through the room, blowing in around the door. There’s an iron basket of split logs next to the fireplace. There’s something yellow on top.

You go over and open the packet; inside, a lighter and a little booklet on how to start a fire. Hm. There’s a bag of kindling next to the wood as well. Maybe later. 

You set the packet back down and turn to face the other doorway. The one you’ve not yet ventured through. The kitchen is small but tidy. On the table, there’s a small crate. Within, sorted neatly, are similar silver packets to the one he handed you in the bedroom. They are labeled alongside a large bag of quick oats. 

The oats simply read, ‘Breakfast’. The writing is jagged but legible. Each packet is labeled decisively; Day 1 – Dinner, Day 2 – Lunch... On and on. You turn and face the fridge. The only thing on it is another note. ‘Drink Water. Not Tap.’ Got it. After the complete absence of communication, it’s nice to have at least a little directive. 

You retreat to the bedroom and check the empty packet. Yep, Day 1 – Lunch. Amid the chaos of your abduction and the desolation of this place, the pieces of order stick out sorely. It all feels so fractured. 

You go to the armoir and try to open it. The doors don’t budge. You back up and cross your arms again. You’re really starting to get cold. You should get the fire going before your fingers go completely numb. 

You strip the flannel blanket from the bed and wrap it around your shoulders. You go back into the living room and hep the extra layer at your waist as you sit on your knees and try to figure out the fireplace. After several splinters and some sparks from the lighter, you get a flame struck. 

You stay close and hold up your hands as it begins to lick. You settle down on your butt and hug yourself under the blanket. You watch the flames swirl and your vision blurs with little orbs of colour.  

The questions don’t matter. The answers won’t make a difference. Why are you here? Where is here? No, it’s useless. Just like from the first moment you saw him. You know now, it wasn’t the first time he saw you. 

You hang your head and let it pour out of you. The fear throttles you so you’re choking on your sobs. Your body wracks and your skull throbs. You don’t want to live like this but you’re too afraid to die. 

You wade up from the dregs of your grief and the room comes clear again. You’re on your side before the glowing embers. You sit up and put another piece of wood on the pile then get up. You stagger around to the bedroom, your feet moving without your mind’s intent. 

You go to the corner. You stare at the shelf. The pictures, the stolen parts of your existence, the shank of hair... is gone? You saw him put it there. Oh well. Good riddance. 

You shudder and squint over the images. There’s one from over a year ago. The last time you saw your family. You shake your head and back up. No. No. You didn’t know for that long. Well, how could you expect something like this? 

You sniffle and leave the room. You can’t stay in there. Not with that shrine? Altar? You don’t even know what. 

You take a stiff pillow from the couch and lower yourself in front of the fireplace again. You close your eyes but you don’t know if you’ll be able to sleep. There isn’t much else to do. 

Time skews into a haze. It’s dark, then light, and dark again. Your stomach gurgles but by the time you get the food warm, you’re too sick to eat more than a few bites. As the days wilt by, a stench roils from your body. 

The packets help you track the day, even as you miss some, you try to keep some order in your mind. On Day Four, you dare to try the faucet. The tub pours out steaming water. You adjust it before you sink in. It’s as close to peace as you’ve found. 

As the water stagnates around your body, you can’t help but think. When will he come back? Will he be back? You don’t think he’s out there having fun and frolicking. You could tell by his attire, by the marks of death on that shield. 

You let the water go cold then drain it. You pull the same nightgown on, even as it reeks. You just need something on. You reclaim the blanket and your perch before the fireplace. You wish you had something warm to drink. Coffee or tea. Nothing could ever make this place anything less than a prison, but you wouldn’t mind some comfort. 

[darksigns-exe]

crystal clear - noah sebastian x f!reader

warnings: swearing, fingering (f receiving), more big feelings

word count: 2.7k

masterlist | read pt 1 here | taglist sign-up

It’s almost midnight by the time you’re done eating and have cleaned everything up again. Noah had made no mention of what had happened just a little while earlier. He’d just moved on as if nothing had changed, while you could feel yourself burning up from the inside out. The spot on your neck where he had left his mark still feels so raw when you brush your fingers against it. You can still feel his hands on your body. 

He slumps down next to you, stretching his legs out across the carpet. 

You don’t know how to move on from this. 

No matter how hard you try, you can’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you. You’d never be able to uncross this lines – not that you wanted to. 

Noah lets out a yawn, letting his head thump against your shoulder. 

“Mind if I stay here tonight? Don’t wanna drive back.” he mumbles in that faux pouty tone of his. 

“Thought that was the plan?” you reply, bumping your head against his. 

“I didn’t want to assume.” 

He suddenly sounds so hesitant and insecure, and maybe that’s what makes you realise that this is just as daunting for him as it is for you. 

“I was hoping that you’d stay.” you trail off, hoping that he’ll pick up on what you’re alluding to. 

“That so?” Noah sits up, turning to face you, “We should talk first, though.” 

As much as you want to drag him back to you, you know that this conversation needs to happen. And the sooner it happens, the better. 

“I don’t know where to start.” you admit, writhing your hands together. 

He reaches across to take your hands into his, “Neither do I but – I meant what I said earlier. I’ve been trying to find a good moment for this for a while now, but it never felt like the right time. And then you kept telling about how all of these people were just making you feel worse – I had to try, even at the chance that you wouldn’t feel that way for me.” 

You want to reach out and smooth the deep set furrow in his brow, but with him still holding on to your hands, all you can do is squeeze his hands. 

“I’m glad you did.” “So am I.” he replies, scooting a little closer to you, “If you want to I’d like to give this a shot. Take you out on a date and everything.”

“One condition.” 

Maybe you’re pushing it but breaking the tension feels like a good thing right now. 

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

“I want flowers.”

He breaks into a bright smile, “Oh, you’ll get so many flowers. Every day. As many as you want.” 

Within the blink of an eye, you find yourself on your back once again. The sudden movement makes you laugh, which in turn breaks Noah. And when he kisses you this time, it’s all smiles. You thread your fingers into his hair as he trails a soft line of kisses along your neck. 

You’ll never get enough of the softness on his face, the gentle adoration that simmers just below the surface. 

“Let me take you to bed?” he asks so gently that it makes you shiver all over. 

“Please.” you sigh in response. 

You’ve shared a bed with Noah on multiple occasions. He has stayed over at your place so often that he has a small stash of clothes in your dresser. But no matter how often you’ve woken up next to him, it’s all different now. Sitting next to him on top of your bed feels a little new and strange. Noah seems to be just as hesitant as you are. And really, you get it. It’s a big thing. He knows that you haven’t been intimate with anyone before, and you can’t imagine that he’s taking this lightly. 

This time, you’re the one who reaches out first. There’s a slight tremble to his hand when yours wraps around it. 

“We don’t have to do this right now. We can just get comfortable and get to that whenever it happens.” you tell him, hoping that your worry for him isn’t too obvious.

Noah clears his throat, “I just want this to be perfect for you. My first time wasn’t good, and I don’t want you to feel bad about it later, too.” 

The quiet admission stings deep in your chest, “I don’t think I could feel bad about it with you. I know that you’ll take good care of me.” 

There’s a faint little smile on his face, a soft little thing that eases your worries and dampens the sting. 

“I’ll do my best.” he replies, squeezing your hand, “If something feels off please tell me, okay?”

“Noah.” you warn, earning yourself another bright smile from him. 

He eyes you for a long moment, smile still playing on his lips. 

“Think I could kiss you again?” he sounds so adorably sheepish then, and you can’t possibly say no to him.

The kiss that follows is impossibly sweet. Noah’s hand behind your head keeps you close to him, but there’s nothing controlling about this. You soon find yourself on your back, with Noah once again hovering over you. The warm weight of his body comforts the nervous edge in your mind. You know what’s coming, but you know that you’ll be safe and well taken care of with him. 

His hand drifts up the side of your body, slowly working its way under the fabric of your shirt. His palm is warm against your skin, his touch much softer than you had expected. 

“How about we get this off you?” he asks, toying with the hem of your shirt. 

There’s a blip of insecurity in your mind, but it passes as soon as you lift the garment over your head and the breath visibly catches in Noah’s throat. His eyes flicker across your bared chest, unable to settle on a single spot. You’ve never seen him this hesitant as when he reaches out to brush the tips of his fingers against the skin of your tummy. It’s almost as if he’s in disbelief at seeing you like this. 

You reach towards him, almost mirroring his own touch. Noah reacts a little delayed, slowly taking his own shirt off. His breath hitches when your fingers make contact with his skin. 

You don’t quite understand how something that is so very familiar to you, can feel this new. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but drawing the tips of your fingers across the intricate lines that decorate his body gives you an entirely new perspective. Noah lets out a breathy little laugh when you find a particularly sensitive spot. 

“You’re so beautiful.” his voice comes barely above a whisper, disbelief still evident on his features. 

You want to counter his words, tell him that you think the same about him. But the words just won’t come to you. Thankfully, Noah takes your mind off it when he leans down to kiss you once more. From here, his lips make a slow descent along your jaw and neck. You feel teeth grazing across the skin of your collarbones. He soothes barely there sting with a gentle kiss. You sigh when he repeats the motion, one hand weaving into his hair. His lips find the apex of your breasts, placing soft kisses there too. The attention he gives you is maddening. 

He’s so very carefully when he helps you remove the remained of your clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. He’d stripped down to his briefs at some point, but with the rush of information and sensation, you must have missed when. 

Noah kneels between your parted thighs, one of his hands placed comfortable on top of your thigh, while the other toys with the hem of your panties. His eyes drift across your body, stretched out in front of him. The shyness you had expected to feel is nowhere to be found. Instead, you feel so very comfortable beneath his glance. 

“Oh darling.” he says with a sigh, dragging the backs of his fingers across your still clothed centre.

You gasp, not used to this kind of touch from someone else. 

He keeps is voice low and soft, “You're so wet already, and we haven’t even done anything yet. Can I take these off too?” 

You nod, feeling a little too shaky to speak.

“Push up a little for me.” he says, tapping your hip. 

Noah works the fabric down your waist and legs, letting them disappear somewhere out of your sight. His fingers caress the inside of your thighs, not quite touching where you want him to touch. You are by no means a stranger to touching yourself. You know how to get yourself off, but the anticipation of someone else touching you like that fills your head with fuzz. 

His thumb drags through your folds so slowly and carefully. Your eyes fall shut when he circles it around your clit. Noah mumbles something to himself, but the words don’t reach your ears. You feel fingers tracing along your entrance, and your breath catches when the tip of his middle finger dips inside. 

“Do you always get wet like this, or is this just for me?” he asks, sounding almost amused, “Does that feel good?”

You whine out a yes in reply, earning you a soft chuckle from him. 

He carefully eases his finger inside, paying close attention to the sounds you make in reaction. The digit curls inside you, drawing another new noise from you. 

“I love the sounds you make. Sound so sweet.” He muses, eyes focused entirely on where his finger works in and out of you. 

A second finger joins the first, still so very careful. With his thumb drawing slow circles on your clit, you can start to feel yourself unravel. The attention Noah pays to you makes your head spin. His softly whispered words don’t reach your conscious mind. Your mind can’t focus on anything in particular, flipping between sensations by the second. One moment it’s the intent curl of his fingers inside you, the next it’s the warmth of his palm on your hip. A whine catches in your throat, breath hitching as your climax slowly creeps up on you. As much as you try to keep your eyes open, you fail miserably. That floaty feeling only becomes stronger, slowly dragging you under. 

You’re right on the edge of it. Noah’s hand wraps around yours, holding it just tight enough. 

“You’re right there, aren’t you, baby?” he coaxes, fingers now moving faster and more intent than before, “There you go, just let go for me. That’s it.”

Your own fingers would never come close to this, and really you weren’t sure if you’d ever be satisfied with the highs you could bring yourself to. You’re sure that your grip on his hand is getting too tight, but you can’t will yourself to let go of him. Noah doesn’t let up, keeps working his fingers inside of you as you fall apart on his fingers. Only when your whines take on a pained edge does he ease up and slowly removes the digits from you. 

You give yourself a moment before you dare to open your eyes. When you do, you find Noah already looking at you. You can’t describe the expression on his face as anything less than adoration. You try your best to memorise the moment, just for the worst case scenario that you’ll never see this again. 

His thumb drifts across the back of your hand, effectively drawing you out of your thoughts. 

“How was that? Good?” there’s a trace of the same kind of worry in his voice that you hear when he asks if you like the song he’s been working on. 

“I don’t think that it’s ever felt this good.” you admit quietly. 

The worry is immediately replaced by that cocky smile of his, the kind that makes you want to push him over, “If you’re up for it, I think I can make it even better.” 

You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. 

Noah breaks a second after that, and the soft sound of his laugh is like music to your ears. He folds over, forehead coming to rest against your tummy. His breath tickles against your skin. You decide that he’s entirely too far away from you and bring your hand back into his hair to tug him upwards to you. Noah follows all too easily. He meets you in a clumsy kiss, still smiling when he pulls away from you a moment later. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly, still so very close to you, “Good to go on or do you want to finish this later?” 

“Don’t you dare.” you try to sound serious, but you can already feel yourself smiling around the words. 

“Alright, alright. One problem, I didn’t think this was going to happen. I don’t have anything with me.” he sits up a little, suddenly sounding a lot more serious, “If you’d feel better with a condom we can wait.” 

You consider your options for a moment. As much as you want this now, you can’t help but worry. Even with Noah’s assurance that there’s nothing to worry about from his side, the caution that has been beaten into you wins. 

There’s no disappointment on his face when you tell him that you want to wait. Instead, his hand finds its way to the side of your face. 

“It’s okay.” the genuine softness on his face eases the fear in your chest a little, “We don’t need to rush into this.”

“I’ve been waiting for so long –” 

He shakes his head, “I know, darling. I know it feels like you’re missing out, but I’d rather do this right than rushed. And either way, I’m not going anywhere.”

You shoot him a questioning look. 

“Did you really think that I was going to just let us go back to before? I mean, unless you want that –”

This time, you’re the one who stops him from rambling. You pull him in for a kiss, silencing him before his worrying derails entirely. 

“I’m guessing that means we don’t go back to just friends?” he asks, that little bit of smile still fixed on his face. 

“I don’t think I could go back to seeing you as just a friend even if I wanted to.” 

Noah pulls himself away from you, looking somewhat reluctant to put distance between you, “Good. Don’t think I could do that either.” 

“So what does that make us?” you ask quietly. 

Noah is quiet for a long moment. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“I don’t wanna do this whole let’s see where this take us thing. I like you – too much, dance around this for ages. We’ve done enough of that already.” 

“So what I’m hearing is that you don’t want to pretend to be my boyfriend when a weird guy tries to chat me up in a bar any more?” 

“Won’t have to pretend.” he replies so softly, “This won’t be easy, but I think we can make it work.”

“We managed to keep this friendship running while you’re off doing your thing.” you counter quickly, “Will be worth it either way.” 

His smile widens at that, “We’ll make this work.”

“We will.” you reply, stifling a yawn, “But that can wait until tomorrow – later today.” 

When you had found him on your sofa earlier that night, you hadn’t thought that you would end the night curled up against him like this. Or that any of this would happen for that matter. He’s held you like this before, but now, with his warm hands resting against the skin of your tummy, you feel so very comforted. You feel Noah press another kiss to your cheek, you’ve lost count of how many kisses he’s pressed to your skin since your talk, but they all make you feel soft and warm inside. 

Behind you, Noah lets out a content sigh, as his arms tighten around you, and suddenly you wonder how you’ve ever gone without this.

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[m0chisenpai]

lestat x black female reader

inspired by ep 1 where lestat invites louis and lily, but here it would be reader and lily where they are friends and lestat just uses lily to finally have reader 🤭

fascinating

˚｡⋆ lestat de lioncourt x black!fem!reader

in which you are the most fascinating being of the night

You were a fly on the wall when it came to Lily and her business.

You were a…muscle of sorts. Though you could hardly overpower the men who she saw all you needed to do was scream for someone and the men would be set right.

You did not partake in the business of pleasure, it was not something that drew you in.

Truth be told the touch of a man made you feel ill. Not that you preferred the company of women, but the men who came in for Lily wanted one thing merely and that was to waste their seed and forget about their problems at home.

You could see right past their imported rings, their custom tailored suits. It was all a facade, but tonight Lily insisted you enjoy the music out on the patio while she handled her ‘business.’ This was typical, you kept her clients company while she got ready or wrapped up a previous one. She offered a portion of her earnings to you but you declined.

“I need you to keep an eye out for my next appointment love please?”

You hum turning your head rested int he palm of your hand to look at her.

“Not Lawrence again he is such dull company.”

“No now if he were coming I’d tell you to pick your book up and come. No this ones a french white,” she whispers it like a scandal and you will admit your interests are peaked.

“A french man Lily. What’s his name and what’s he look like?”

“Oh he’s got these dreamy blue eyes, golden locks. He knows to meet me up here, but keep I entertained for me love won’t you?” When she holds your hands and pouts her lip you sigh and agree and she’s squealing and promising a treat on her next night.

When she’s gone your eyes return to the book, the light music spilling from the night sets the perfect ambiance for you to read from the tattered pages. You enjoy your little bubble in peace, oblivious to the man who now sits in front of you.

It isn’t until his cane knocks int the table that you pick your head up to meet the most beautiful of eyes. This man is unlike the others. No, he is special. When you tilt your head ever so slightly he mirrors it back.

“I hope I am not of a disturbance, madame.”

“No,” your wet your lips finding your voice. “You must be looking for Lily. She should be ready for you in a moment I can alert her-“ When you go to stand his hand comes down upon your hand atop your book. But it is gentle, and it stops you.

“No please, I would prefer your company tonight.”

Oh now this was new, your eyebrow raises but your hand does not move from beneath his own. It is cold, but it is comforting in the humid evening. “I do not warm beds sir, if you’d like I can find you another woman to provide you the company you desire?”

“I think the company you offer surpasses any woman’s here, please sit. I will even pay you for your time.”

You hesitate for. A moment, but the extra money could provide you just enough for the new novel you’d been in search of. So you sit, crossing one leg over another.

“Where are my manners, what am I to call you madame?”

You offer your name and he whispers it back. “Lestat De Lioncourt, but for you my dear, Lestat.”

His answers are vague to your questions. She comes from France, from money passed on from a father. His mother travels the world since the passing of said father, and he finds himself in love with New Orleans.

“But enough about myself what-“

“Mr Lioncourt!” When Lily comes the tiniest bit of disappointment fills you. But a Lestat’s eyes do not move when you dearest Lily returns by your side.

“Lily you did no tell me you had such interesting company around here.”

“I told you she is, she would rack in a fortune-“

“But I do not like the feeling of a man. It makes me…” you shake your head but Lily’s hand on your hand provides you comfort. Cause she knows.

“Well I will leave you both to it, I’m gonna check in with Madame, Lily, you fine by yourself?”

“Of course, Mr Lioncourt is my last o the night then we can go to that new cafe.” You stand, book in hand to walk past but Lestat’s hand holds your elbow. Had it been any other man your instinct would be to step aside out of their grasp.

But his hand does not feel like fire on you. And he drops a ring in your hand, a fortune which he lays his hand atop.

“Will this suffice?”

“Yes, thank you Lestat.” You smile and move to leave. Yet his gaze does to leave until you are completely out of sight.

Lestat begins to buy up Lily’s time, to the point whee she hardly can see others. She wasn’t comparing the man paid her extremely well from what you could tell, enough that she was giving you some o her earnings.

“I just feel bad, dragging you to and from. But I think he is sweet on you love.”

“He is not.” You giggle as she bumps int your side as you walk to the mans home.

“He is! You know….” She leans up to speak into your ear, “I think he pretends it is you some nights.”

“You and your imagination Lil,” she giggles right until he is meeting you at the iron gates and letting the both of you in. It was always the same, he offers you both a drink, you speak for a bit, the two go upstairs, then Lily walks you back home.

But tonight it was as though the two knew something. Because when she passes Lestat the gaze they exchange is mischievous. Lily pauses i the doorway cursing beneath her breath.

“I left my compact at Lawrences love I’ll be right back!” And she’s dashing out the door before you can run after her. Lestat closes the door just when your door reaches for the knob.

“I hope is am good company,” he holds his hand to you. And you lay your hand in his, letting him lead you into the parlor. Two glasses await you before the lit fireplace.

The record plays the softest of music.

The setting feels too intimate, especially as he sit beside you, closer than most do. But you attribute it to his heritage. He was always more touchy.

He deposits a glass, half filled and clinks your glasses together. You take a slow sip. It’s a smooth red that warms your bones and you set it back down. When you look up at him, his gaze is settled on you, almost loving. Too kind for your linking to you settle on looking at the spot between his eyes.

“Do you find my company a nuisance?” He tilts his head, and a furrow creases the perfect marble of his skin. “Because I can’t offer you what Lily has. I’m sorry.”

“Au contraire my little love,” his hand slips into your own, lifting it to press a kiss to your hand. “ Your company offers me something hers does not.”

Now it is your turn to be confused and you tilt your head. He continues, “Your questions. Your thoughts. Your hunger and desire to know the things beyond man and God. You hunger for something more.” As he speaks his hand rests across your bare chest, where your heart beats beneath his cold palm.

”It is here. And I too had such desires. Until it brought you to me. My answered prayer. The one who alone can satisfy this hunger.” You don’t realize how your body seems to draw closer. Your own hand resting where his heart should beat.

You should feel sick, you should be broken. No man can fill the void of your heart. “You were never broken, your soul knew what your flesh knew not. It needed me.”

When you go to move back his hand rests at the back of your neck, but it is gentle. His hand are always so gentle. “How did you know.”

”Because my love. We were meant to be, to be companions for a lifetime, no, for lifetimes to come.”

You don’t know why it feels so hard to breathe. But he is sliding another ring from his pinky, and he drops it into your hand, curling your hands around it to hold between both his hands.

“Be my companion, my love, let me fulfill every desire these mortal men have neglected. Please,” he whispers your name like a prayer. Tears fill your eyes, sliding down the slopes of your cheeks. You can only slowly nod.

And he is devouring your lips, the flames burn higher.

”Oh love!” Lily squeals seeing you at your normal spot. Your back to her, hair pinned up in a gorgeous frown braid with silk ribbon. It had been some time since you returned. Whispers spread that you eloped, that you ran off to France, hopped a train to New York with some man.

but Lily long since told you needed a break.

“Lily,” your voice is so smooth, had you always sounded like that? When she is able to see you, you look up at her.

Golden eyes, stare into her brown ones.

[lemon-russ]

Your lion fic was beautiful. May I request more? Anything will do really. But here are my requests.

Lion angrily jerking it after experiencing one (1) emotion

Lion aggressively cuddling you. You're not hurt or sick or have lost feeling in your lower body temporarily, he just wants to be close to you. And be an ass about it.

You wear his legion colours/symbols and he gets really horny.

40k Lion reminiscing about an old lover from 30k (using that term loosely, they were probably just fuck buddies) and maybe they meet again in 40k. Let's say a perpetual reader.

Anyway these are just my brainworms. Feel free to ignore.

And yes, I am aware I have a thing for stoic men losing it and being absolute freaks. I am currently in search for a good therapist.

Sorry for the delay, but I feel adjacent to a human today, so I finally finished this! Also the way you presented it made me snort laugh haha, the kind message into "angrily jerking it" lmfao

Anyway here's The Lion straight jorkin' it (I like all your suggestions and might come back to the colors one especially!)

Tags: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk

Thanks @squishyowl for the dividers!

Lion El'Jonson X Fem!Reader

CW: Lion straight up jorkin' it. That's all.

Stupid woman, Lion thought, slamming his chamber doors closed.

He started angrily undoing the belt of his tunic as he marched to his bed, fingers frustratingly fumbling the latch in a hurry.

Stupid, infuriating woman.

Guilliman had sent a representative to give The Lion updates about some missions the Ultramarines had been on, just the average doldrum of war talk. But the representative he sent was his little Ambassador pet.

“My Lord?” You had said, looking up at him between explaining supply lines, “You seem very tired. Did you not rest well?”

He’d been shocked by the simple question. He had indeed been without a proper rest for a bit too long. But, no one ever asked such things about him. He was a god to most baselines, infallible and untiring, beyond mortal needs. But you spent a majority of your time around his brother, so of course you could read him better than a random serf could. And you’d been… concerned. For him.

“Wh- I…” he had stuttered, caught off guard. That annoyed him. Being flustered by a tiny baseline woman’s concern for him annoyed him. The pang of unnameable emotion that shot through him annoyed him. The sudden pulse of pressure below his stomach, especially annoyed him.

“Don’t be daft woman-” he had spat back. You’d just smiled softly at the verbal attack, soft eyes scanning his face, studying the circles forming under his eyes. Then for some warp damned reason, you had gone and made him a cup of recaff. You placed it in front of the flabbergasted Primarch and returned to explaining your papers like nothing had passed.

Stupid woman.

The minute you’d given him a quick aquillan salute and been on your way out the door, He had turned on his heel and stormed off to his quarters, leaving confused serfs in his wake as he pushed them aside, some even falling to the floor. “No one disturb me.” He had growled, stalling their pursuit of him.

He finally pulled his pants down, holding his tunic aside as he knelt on his bed. That feeling that you had invoked in him had shot right between his legs. The whole rest of the meeting, he was struggling to focus on anything but how hard you had made him.

He grasped himself, groaning at the friction at last as he stroked. Your image assaulted his mind. You leaning over the table just enough that he could see down the far too loose tunic dress you wore. He growled remembering that glimpse of your breasts, infuriatingly framed in ultramarine blue. It should have been HIS colors.

He grasped himself tighter as he assailed his aching cock, falling back on his pillows. It should be Dark Angels green you were in. No- it should be nothing at all. You should be naked in his bed. You should be panting in his lap-

His hips bucked himself fruitlessly into his hand at the image. Your sweet face, flush and gasping as you rode him. Did you look at Guilliman the way you’d looked up at him? Did you fetch him drinks when you noticed he was worn? The thought enraged The Lion. How dare you go back to the Macragge’s Honour, back to anywhere but his bed.

He gripped the sheets, yanking at his tunic as he frustratedly picked up speed, ignoring the slight soreness from his calloused palm attacking his cock without anything to help the friction. It wouldn’t be an issue if it was you on him instead. He bet you were plenty slick, and tight-

He felt his balls start to tighten, drawing in a hissing, ragged gasp through grit teeth. His bed creaked with the cadence of his hips jerking up into his fist. You should be here. You should be wrapped around him, holding on for your life as he used you like a cocksleeve- he imagined your small hands splayed over his stomach for balance, trying desperately to hold yourself down against his bouncing.

He fisted his cock faster, frustrated by the sub-par sensation of his own rough skin, barely slicked with his pre-cum as he drove himself forcefully toward an orgasm. He was frustrated he’d immediately given in to such base instincts. He was Frustrated you could drive him to this with one little question, with one sweet look.

His mind flooded with the image of you giving him that little smile, eyes soft and concerned in defiance of his sharp words-

He let out a snarl as the heat in him snapped, shooting his spend over his stomach in jerking pulses. A few more hard pumps on his cock drained him, shuddering and mind blank, before he collapsed back on the bed, legs shaking and ragged gasps wracking his lungs.

He lay panting, covered in his own seed, twitching his hips up in the aftershocks. This was your fault. You stupid, damnable woman.

He groaned and let his arm fall to his side as the sensations eased from his need-drunk mind.

He had a very stern demand to draft. If his brother wanted him to keep playing nice- which he had been, he’d been very cooperative he thought, he earned some credit- If Guilliman wanted Lion to keep his word about their plans and supplies and defenses-

Then the cost was merely one insignificant little diplomat woman.

[oshygoshy]

1:38 am

word count - 524 words

warnings - slightly suggestive

a/n - wow 2 whole writings?? yeah ik im spoiling my 23 followers...get ready for 4 months of radio silence from me after this though

"how would you describe me to the police if i went missing?" 

"...i'm sorry?"

miya atsumu, professional volleyball player (and who should be asleep by now...!) rolls over, unceremoniously plopping his elbow next to your nose. his shifting weight caused the bed to dip, and you felt your body tipping towards his (because of physics, not for any other reason...!!).

he squinted at you in the dark. "ya heard what i said."

"yeah, and it was stupid. and i'm tired. so please repeat it?" you say, holding back a yawn. "don't you have practice in like...4 and a half hours anyway-"

"hush, baby." (you'd be lying if you didn't get tingles from the pet name.) "jus' answer me?"

you rested your temple on his bicep, curling your body against his (again, physics), and hummed absentmindedly. what a strange question. 

"uhh...suspect has an ath-"

"suspect?? not victim???" he whispered furiously. in the dim moonlight, you could see his eyebrows furrow in mock anger. "whaddya mean suspect??" 

you smirked at his indignation. placing your pointer finger gently over his lips, you gently shushed him. "hush, baby," you mirror him. you could feel his lips twitch down in a frown. 

"ok let me start again. the suspect has an athletic build, is tall, and..." your eyes flit downward (respectfully, to answer his question. nothing more.) "'s pretty muscular."

"pretty mus-excuse me?? i'm very muscular-"

this time, you silence him with a kiss (to shut him up, not for any other reason!!) which works very effectively. he immediately stops talking and places his free hand on your waist. 

"yeah, petty muscular. strong abs-" you punctuate this statement by taking a hand and gently tracing his stomach under his shirt. you could hear his breath stutter, but pretend you don't notice. "great ass," you say with a cheeky giggle as your hand wanders, and he lets out a snort. "and a waist that would make any girl jealous. oh, and the best part?" you move your hand downward. his eyebrows raise but fall back when your hand stops at his thigh. "really nice thighs. like, really nice. they're really juicy, trust me, officer. you'd recognize them from an ocean away." 

your hand pats his thigh politely before you move it back up. 

"got me excited for a sec. yer hand was awfully close to sometime else for a bit," he mumbled into your hair. 

"whoops," you say, not very apologetic. 

"i don't like it when ya tease me," he continued. 

you push yourself back against his chest, looking at him with a raised brow. "oh, we both know that's a lie." 

he blushed, which you also pretended to not notice. "i don't like it when you tease me and do nothing about it. correction."

you sigh, setting yourself against his body. "well, i'm sleepy and you need to get up early. but.."

"...but?"

"i'm free this weekend," you say nonchalantly. 

he kissed the top of your head, grinning. "deal."

...

"so, who do you think is more muscular than me?"

"tsumu, please."

"it's bokkun, isn't it? it's ok, that's valid. he's really beefy."

"atsumu."

"okay, okay. sorry, sweets. goodnight."

[rat-sized-socks]

Old looping animation I banged out in like 2 days last year that I never had a place to post it but now I do so here it is

[amarkofcain]

½ of the boys from the dwarf have gotten pregnant and i could make it ¾

[cakesmelons]

i feel like it's been forever since i've drawn them (idk if it actually has been) BUT I MISSED THEM. so here's the brothers trying to be brothers again.

[simptasia]

LOST: Season One

[like-the-rest-of-la]

Happy Little Accidents

The last thing Eddie Diaz expects to come out of his trip to Buckley’s Plant Nursery & Landscaping with his son, is to develop an honest to god schoolgirl crush on the guy who owns the place (and not notice that that is what’s happening for an embarrassingly long time).  

The plan is simple. Get in, have Christopher pick out a couple of succulents or whatever he needs for his school project, and get out without infesting any of the gorgeous plants in the shop with his bad plant karma. 

But then, the first thing he’s greeted with is a hunk of a man, carrying two heavy packs of soil on his broad shoulders. Eddie swears he can see a drop of sweat running down the man’s face in slow motion. His t-shirt looks like it’s one strategic muscle flex away from bursting at the seams and Eddie—Eddie feels nervous all of the sudden. And he’s gaping like a fish. 

“Hey,” Hunk-man says as he hoists the soil on the counter next to him with a grunt, “What can I help you with?”

At least Eddie has enough self-awareness to close his mouth.

Or: the one where Buck owns a plant nursery and Eddie stumbles through his crush (and has no game during all of it)—oh and also, there are a lot of Bob Ross references.

Read on Ao3

(With a banner by the wonderful @theladyyavilee thank you so so so much <3)

[napping-sapphic]

do NOT have a best friend because you WILL be trying to sleep and then they will text you some of the cutest shit on earth and then you will be so busy thinking about it that sleep gets too hard >:(

[kiddokori]

fuck timezones do you know how hard it is to talk to my friends when they have a different sleep schedule than me. i go to bed at 9pm and wake up at 6 to see notifications from my buddy from literally 5 in the morning. thats a one hour overlap of us both sleeping. there is not a time difference between us theres no reason for this shes just sick in the head and im a 75 year old man with a bedtime

[lunathejaguar]

i loveeee this au so much

like she's so cutee⭐

i wish gender was real☹ /j

anyways the person who made the trans girl zim au is @cutiebatata but their no longer active.

im so late this to fandom lmao

[jimmyspades]

[no1ryomafan]

I know that every genre to ever exist is really just a ever growing evolution process, every single thing within a genre is influenced by each other somehow just each thing retools things to make it its own identity, so seeing overlap between things isn’t shocking but I gotta say: Mecha’s influencing each other will always fascinate me because the tiniest detail will be used in something that was ripped from another show. What do I mean by that? Well it’s only DAWNED ON ME that Roger’s watch in Big O is CLEARLY inspired off of Daisakus in Giant Robo!

This is such a obvious detail given Giant Robo is the mecha influence Big O takes-it wasn’t just “Batman but mecha”, it pulled a lot from this-and the robot itself feels inspired by Robo, but I hadn’t noticed the watch detail because of how it’s retooled in Big O.

In Giant Robo, the watch is used to command the robot, but in Big O, since Roger pilots the robot, he uses it just to call his robot, so it’s way more minor in that show but it’s still so clearly inspired off of Daisaku commanding Robo in battle.

It’s not only a homage but it’s making something new, for potentially maybe another mecha to pull from, and more to come after. This genre is so fucking COOL.