Ryan the lion for your viewing pleasures.

DCL // HIGHSNOBIETY 🦋

i am alive and well. the only thing i have to blame for my absence is fire emblem three houses. please spare me

Games and Lectures Pt. 1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning: cheating at Monopoly, implied smut, fluff

Summary: Game night always leads to fun when Steve Rogers is around...Most of the time. 

A/N: This was based on another ask I sent to the lovely @slothspaghettiwrites​ (I sent her a shit load of horny thots, most of which I am rewriting into full drabbles or fics!). I hope you like it, baybeeees! If you have any requests or suggestions, by all means send them in! I wanna hear your beautiful, horny or wholesome ideas. If you’re interested in being added to my tag list, please tell me! I have a lot of ideas and fics in the works. I love you! Kisses

Game night at the Avengers’ compound was a big deal. Being a part of the Avengers team was stressful; life and death situations, mission after mission, briefings, meetings, and training really takes it out of a person. So the best way for you all to unwind in a wholesome, family-friendly way was boardgames. Yes, it may sound strange: a group of super soldiers, scientists, and spies all playing Monopoly in their pajamas on a Thursday night, but that was your schedule. Thursdays were game nights, Friday was movie night, and Saturday was date night for the few Avengers who actually had dates. 

The current game of Monopoly was just coming to a close, only you and Steve were in the game. The others never seemed to manage their money efficiently, which you’d told them time and time again. Steve was barely holding on, his money stacks looked bald and sparse. It was his turn, and as luck would have it, he landed on Tennessee Avenue; which happened to be the only property you owned with a hotel on it. 

“DAMN IT!” He exclaimed with a grimace, your laughter as the well as the cheers from your friends celebrated your “clean" victory. 

“Better luck next time, kid! Now! Money, please!” you grinned at him with your hand outreached. He shakes his head and reluctantly hands over the rest of his money. 

“Well, as fun as that was, I’m going to hit the hay,” Clint said with a well timed yawn. A chorus of “me too”s fell from the tired lips of the rest of the group.

“Loser has to clean up, Stevie,” you reminded him before he could sneak out.

“So close,” he whispers before turning back with a groan to clean up the living room. “The mess they make,” Steve says with a fond chuckle, the money was all over the coffee table and floor, plates and cups laid here and there, the cushions of the couch pulled out and tossed across the room. 

“It was fun,” you say with a smile, “especially the part where I beat you.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Steve responded playfully, “how do you always win?” 

“Simple: I always cheat,” he nearly breaks his neck whipping his head to stare at you surprised. 

“You cheat?? How?” He’s appalled and you can tell. You roll your eyes, already seeing him plan the lecture he’s about to give you. 

“I take money from the bank,” you say matter-of-factly. You really shouldn’t have told him, but how could you lie to him? His sweet eyes hidden by sweeping lashes always seemed to be your downfall. 

“You take money from the bank,” he repeats, clearly not happy. “So every time you’d won, you have been taking money from the bank?” but it was more of a statement. 

Knowing Steve Rogers, he could lecture you on the immorality and unjustness of your sticky fingers for hours. Which is what he did. It was going on 2 hours when you just couldn’t take it anymore. Both of you were sitting on the couch as he told you how unfair it was, how he could have won, and how he’ll be watching you more closely next week. 

“Stevie, baby, please shut up,” you plead with an exasperated sigh. 

“But you cheated! It’s so unfair if you take–“ he began. 

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhut up,” you whisper at him, a finger over his lips. 

Agitation growing in his chest, he pushes your hand away. “Oh, make me, doll,” he says with a bite in his tone. 

Another sigh leaves your lips as he begins to speak again, “alright,” you mutter to yourself. 

“I still can’t believe that yo–“ you crawl into his lap, straddling him, your lips press against his to stop him from continuing. He blinks a few times, surprised and unsure if you’re actually in his lap kissing him. When he feels your hand move through his hair to cradle his head, he finally shuts his eyes. 

His hands finding a natural position on your hips and back, pulling you into him. A deep sigh releases from his lungs as he relaxes into the kiss. A smirk forms on your lips when you feel his tongue shyly asking for permission to enter your mouth. You grant him his wish, and deepen the kiss even more with a tilt of your head. Your tongues meet and swirl around together sensually. Raking your hands through his blonde locks pulls a shiver and deep groan from the super soldier beneath you. 

The simple action has his head spinning. What was he complaining about? He can’t remember, it was probably something stupid. All he can think of it the feeling of your plush lips pressed against his, and your soft tongue massaging his own. He clings to you, his strong hands trying to hold you closer than humanly possible. Finally, you pull back to fill your lungs with air. Your foreheads touching softly, his big blue eyes looking at you through his lashes. 

“Now, isn’t that much better, Stevie?” You ask in a hushed whisper. Steve’s grip tightens at the nickname and he swallows the lump in his throat before nodding.

“Ye-yes,” he says in between breaths. His eyes flick between your eyes and your bruised lips before he slowly eases forward, his own smirk forming on his face when he saw your eyes close. You let him take the lead, his dominance surging. You feel a large hand holding the back of your neck to keep you in place with he devours your mouth. It’s your turn to shiver and let out a small moan, your fingers pulling at the collar of the plain black t shirt he wears to bed.

The air seems to have been sucked out of the room, the kiss dizzying as his tongue passionately wrestles with yours. It’s when your playfully nip at his bottom lip that he growls, the noise sending a wave of arousal to the growing wet spot in between your thighs. It’s also then that you feel something hard pushing into your core. Instinctively you roll your hips to grind on him softly. 

“Sweetheart,” he growls again, warning you against moving anymore. He moves down your neck, pressing sloppy, wet kisses to the column of your neck. 

“Stevie,” you moan directly in his ear, and he’s sure he’s never heard anything more angelic in his entire life. He latches on to your throat, sucking a love bite into your tender skin, “Oh, God, Steve!!” you cry out, thighs tightening around his waist. 

“Fuck, come’ere” he grunts before slamming his lips against yours again. His hands grip your ass in a tight grip, leaving bruises in their wake. Lifting you effortlessly into the air, your legs naturally lock around his strong middle and your arms around his neck. 

He stumbles his way to the elevator and presses your back against the wall, grinding his hard cock into your now drenched core. The ride to his floor passes in a blur, and before you know it he tosses you onto his bed. Standing over you, his pretty blue eyes are blown wide, dilated with lust, watching you squirm for him on his bed. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you subconsciously rub your thighs together at the sight before you: Steve Rogers, lips bruised pink and slick with spit, his normally perfectly brushed hair a tangled mess from your fingers raking through it, chest heaving, and his cock straining against the front of his grey sweatpants. 

“Tell me what you want, Sweetheart,” he whispers, his eyes drinking in your curvy form shamelessly. 

“I want you, Stevie,” you bite your lip and look up at him with doe eyes, “Please?” And it absolutely kills him. He finds his place above you within seconds, pressing his body into yours eagerly. 

“You’ll have all of me, Angel,” he promises with a smirk, “every inch of me.”

~~~~~~

Tag List: 

@slothspaghettiwrites​, @aquahogcodes​

Please come over here and cuddle me, Uji. I am feeling upset again. ;w;

There is no heterosexual explanation for this

Jack Grealish

“Happy Father’s Day old fella 🤣♥️”

Awwww he was heartbreaker even then

Still experimenting with the zoo/zookeeper AU

WHEN: Fourth of Maccius WHERE: The Lion’s Mane WHO: Closed @etiennemarais

Patrice had been given instruction, and he could not deny it. He was to accompany Beau to Hippolyte’s former place of residence, and serve as guard to her as she performed some task from Alain he had not been informed of. However, after learning of the location, Patrice could only imagine it was not something pleasant, and had already refused to participate in whatever task she’d been stuck with. He was to guard her and chase away anyone who approached, and that was that. Beau had agreed all too readily, and he was not sure if he should be relieved or be looking over his shoulder for the other shoe to drop.

But Patrice could not live with such paranoia. The last time he’d been frantically looking over his shoulder in Val Faim, he was running from the scene of a crime he’d committed, hoping there was no one in the path he’d left, and if there were, that they hadn’t seen nor suspected a thing. Such memories left an uncomfortable itch at the base of his neck, though whether it was the call of the sea mist tickling him as it called to him or if it was the blackmail-soaked rope Alain leashed him with, Patrice could not be certain. All he knew was that he needed a drink to wash away the feeling, and the Lion’s Mane was the best place to get one.

It was there that a certain face had caught Patrice’s eye. Etienne Marais was a familiar name and face with an unfamiliar profession. When he’d first arrived in Val Faim, he’d heard of this wine merchant, and had to search his memories for the familiar grouping of letters. It dawned on him soon after: this was the same person as the stable hand he had known growing up, whose domain he’d hidden contraband books and compasses and like treasures within. Etienne had kept his secrets, and seemed to have grown a prestige of his own once such things no longer needed guarding. And like Patrice had taken interest of Etienne, he had noticed that, in his research, so had Gisele, and he was not sure who knew to be cautious about her rose-adorned thorns. So, he sought to intervene. Besides, it would be impolite not to say hello. He still retained some manners from his childhood.

“I must say, you seem to have flourished since we’ve seen one another,” Patrice greeted as he approached the bar. It’d been nearly twenty years, he reminded himself. “I cannot help but wonder what someone of such fine fruited craft is doing at an establishment that seems to specialize in ale.”

The King Drinks

Briton Riviere

.

When you go to the zoo and you come home and tell your pets you saw their cousins

Today’s character: Kit Mambo from Animalympics. My sister and I used to watch this movie over and over.

“What’s up race fans?”

TLK: “I've really missed you, Son”

Decided to do a little Simba and Kion thing for Father's Day since I drew the other two for Mother's Day Kion decided to drop by the Pridelands for a little visit for the first time in years, needless to say his father is relieved to see him doing well after all this time