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tarotwithlove · 1 month

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PICK A CARD ⍣ what era of your life are you walking into right now?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · ace of swords (reversed), three of wands, ace of cups (reversed), nine of pentacles, six of cups (reversed), knight of pentacles (reversed), queen of pentacles, celestite: spirituality, serenity, vision.

channelled songs · all that matters by justin bieber. cassandra - acoustic by florence + the machine. voodoo (intermission) by dawn richard. low life by future & the weeknd.

my dear group one ♡ you are currently in an era of mental lack of clarity. you do not see how things are unfolding for you and, thus, you chase after that which is not good for you. in this state of mind, you are prone to make decisions that are, ultimately, the wrong ones.

and one such decision is about to walk you into the next era of your life. you are about to start a new job, new academic career, to get married -- to do something just because you have been told that this is what you should do. that this is who you should be.

it won’t be all bad, of course. but you will feel largely dissatisfied by the shape your life is taking. even with this dissatisfaction, you may repress these emotions for the sake of those around you. you don’t want to disappoint anyone. you don’t want to embarrass or humiliate yourself.

honestly, you may feel as if you’re walking into a more stable era of your life, when you are only walking into an even more confusing one. when you are only walking into an era that makes you feel soulless, devoid of passion.

you may find yourself longing for something or someone from the past. or you may be holding onto a dream so tight that you work overtime so that it becomes a reality. that you become a success. such that you work twice as hard in your day job and in pursuit of your dream.

this era may be painful and difficult and confusing, but you know your limits and you can definitely withstand the pressure. my dear, it is imperative that you withstand and that you do not give up.

after you overcome this temporary hill. this temporary era of confusion. then you will walk into your era of ease, peace. and stability. for many of you, you are about to walk into an era where you are loved on and spoiled, unapologetically.

GROUP TWO

cards · nine of pentacles, judgement, the devil (reversed), knight of pentacles, the fool (reversed), three of wands, six of cups, azurite: inspiration, understanding, intuition

channelled songs · the reynolds pamphlet by original broadway cast of hamilton. pacemaker by stray kids. family ties by baby keem & kendrick lamar. highlight of my life by dolly parton.

my dear group two ♡ right when things were going right -- bam! the rug was pulled from under your feet and you fell flat on your back. lost. confused. confounded. in the worst mental health of your life. you thought you were finally free of the worsts that life had to offer, that you were finally building your own life for yourself, just to be thrown right into the deep-end. just to be right back where you started, if not worse off than where you started.

but you will make it through this. you will have your hiccups, and your feelings of being lost, and your certainty that life will not get better -- not for you -- and you will be proven wrong in your doubts. time and time again.

you are in the knight of pentacles energy right now, my dear. you are persistent, disciplined, and devoted to your wellbeing and your self. even if you do not see that you contain these attributes, you do, and they will get you far.

these attributes are what will help you as you walk into this upcoming era. these attributes are what have helped you get this far and what will help you get so, so much further.

know, my dear, that this time of strife. of anguish. of sadness. know that it will not last long. you are walking into an era of happiness. many of you may be travelling soon, with this era of happiness coming about because you finally get to leave your home or hometown. because you get to have your own space and set your own schedule.

if you had to leave something/someone/somewhere or turn down an opportunity because of mental health struggles, you will be able to return very soon. much sooner than you expect. now, more equipped than before, and, thus, able to enjoy this to the fullest extent.

GROUP THREE

cards · eight of pentacles, the high priestess, nine of pentacles, eight of wands, knight of wands, four of pentacles, ace of cups, aventurine: luck, prosperity, fulfillment.

channelled songs · sweet venom by enhypen. sativa by jhené aiko & swae lee. legend by alice longyu gao. for my lover by tracy chapman. honey by mariah carey, mase, the lox.

my dear group three ♡ you may not be where you want to be just yet, but you are grateful for how far you have come. you have let go of worry, of stress, and of doubt, and have placed your utmost faith in the plan that the universe and the divine has for you. and trust me when i say that this will pay off for you tenfold. no, hundredfold.

you are focused on your spirituality at the moment. on connecting with the divine and the universe around you. and you are already seeing the universe open wide for you, welcoming you with arms open wide, as it has been waiting for you.

you are being asked to not doubt yourself anymore. sure you have put your trust in the divine, but you have to realise that trust is a two-way street -- how can the divine put their trust in someone who does not trust themselves? someone who will not follow through with the blessings they have gifted? they can’t.

continue to hold your head up high. remember that you are a child of the universe. that you are loved and looked after. that god has not abandoned you. remember that you have got yourself this far. you should be proud of yourself for that.

put yourself back on the pedestal and catch yourself when you start to slip -- because you belong up there. and you belong in the era that you are about to walk into. this era that comes right from your own hard work, effort, persistence, and discipline. discipline, most of all, and in all areas of your life.

you are walking into an era where both your emotional and material needs will be fulfilled. especially as you will be making money, and making a name for yourself, doing something that you love. you will no longer working just to earn money; just to “earn a living”. no, no longer!

you are walking into an era where you will not have to scrimp and save, where you will not have to check the price of every item when you do your groceries, where you can give money to the needy without worry or concern about what that will mean for your own wallet.

really… just... you are walking into an era of new beginnings. blessed new beginnings. you’ve earned it.

GROUP FOUR

cards · queen of pentacles, eight of swords, ten of pentacles, knight of wands, four of pentacles, six of cups, nine of pentacles (reversed), onyx: willpower, strength, protection

channelled songs · asylum by billy woods. bye by ariana grande. i want to end my life by takayan. i need you by bahja rodriguez. at night by simon dominic.

my dear group four ♡ you may have recently lost someone with whom you were very close. even if it was not all that recently, the grief may still be an open wound that you have not been able to heal; for some of you, that you have not even been able to address.

you look around at what this person has left behind and you would do anything, trade it all, just to have them back by your side. you would trade all your money, your health, everything that you have and everything that you possess just to have them back -- even if only for a moment. even if only to say a proper goodbye, to tell them one last time how much you love them.

but, dear, know that this person has not left you. far from it. they are now one of your guides, watching over you and guiding you not only as you navigate this life but onto the best possible path for you to follow.

the era that you are walking into is one of divine protection. of heightened intuition, because of this passed on loved on, who has now become your guide. this is an era of never truly feeling lost or alone, and of knowing that you will not and cannot be steered wrong because this person is on your side.

and, yes, it’s not a fair exchange. yes, you will wish for them to be by your side in the flesh. yes, there will be times when you don’t feel their presence and wonder if they have left you, but know that just because you don’t feel them there doesn’t mean that they are not with you.

because they are with you. your partner in crime, from the other side.

#**#tarot #pac #pick a card #tarotblr #witchblr #witch of color #tarotcommunity #tarotcreator #tarotonline #divination #channelled message #channeled message #channeled reading #spirituality #spiritualism #aries season

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rocorambles · 7 months

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Final Girl: Act II

Pairing: Daichi x Reader x Kuroo

Tags: NSFW, Yandere, Non-Con, Dehumanization, Humiliation, Belly Expansion/Forced Enema and Water Sports, Mind-Break, Non-Con Photography/Filming, Forced Bondage, Sex Machines, Cow Tail Plug

A/N: Think I hit the biggest TWs, but just be warned this is leaning into Dead Dove territory and there’s a lot here. My depraved mind is clearly making up for the literal years I’ve left you all hanging smut wise.

Link to Final Girl: Act I

Women are trained actors when it comes to fooling men and you tell yourself this is no different than smoothly weaning off the unwanted attention of an annoyingly persistent man at a bar. Fluttering your eyelashes, laughing and smiling on cue, maybe slightly overexaggerating how divine Daichi’s cooking is, you’re the epitome of a silly smitten woman. Too bad you’re pitted against two even more veteran actors who are enjoying your little act, enjoying pushing your fraying nerves.

A feline smile widens at how your muscles subtly tighten, swiftly painted over by a coy smile when calloused hands purposefully linger and litter your body with far too many casual touches.

An eyebrow above seemingly kind brown eyes slightly arches in amusement at how you pretend to admire the interior of the cabin, trying to hide how your gaze pauses at every possible escape route.

But as fun as it is to watch you flounder about, the show must go on.

“I’m glad you like the meal. The eggs are actually from the neighbor who lives on the land next door.”

Both men hide their shared mirth at how your neck practically snaps towards them at those words. How predictable.

“Oh, you have a neighbor? Where? It didn’t seem like there was anyone nearby when I found your cabin…”

You drone on, every carefully inquisitive phrase and sentence nothing new to the two players watching you unknowingly recite your script word for word. Intermission is over and the second act has officially begun.

Scene: Foolish girl walks right into an obviously placed trap.

It’s a delicate dance feigning interest, coquettish charms on full display while gently turning down the offers to stay up late that night. A well placed giggle here and there while you gracefully dodge the proffered glasses of wine Kuroo seems set on you drinking. An Oscar worthy rendition of an exhausted woman when Daichi playfully brings out a deck of playing cards. It takes everything in you to pace yourself as you climb up the stairs to the guest bedroom, to keep up the act with an exaggerated yawn, when every instinct in you is begging you to flee and run as fast as your legs can take you.

Safely behind your locked door, you quietly wait for the dead of night while two beasts silently prowl and scheme beneath you.

Let the hunt begin.

It’s been hours since you’ve heard the sound of their voices, hours since you’ve heard both of them enter and close their respective doors, hours since you’ve heard any sound at all in the house. Surely they must be deep asleep?

You can’t risk double checking, not when every footstep you take is already an enormous risk. So instead you head directly for the door, slipping into the shadows as best you can, racing in the direction that Daichi had mentioned their neighbor occupied.

All you hear is your racing heart. All you see is endless greenery. Yet you feel that something is following you, watching you, hunting you. You don’t dare to fully stop, but confusion laces your natural instincts when every harried gaze backwards reveals nothing but the eerie darkness of the wilderness that encompasses you.

It feels like you’ve been running for ages, lungs burning, legs aching. Doubt and panic creep into your mind. How far did Daichi say this neighbor lived? Were you heading in the wrong direction- Your spiraling train of thought abruptly stops as the top of a structure peeks out from above the treeline. Could that be…A relieved sob forces its way out of your choked up throat as the outline of a barn becomes clearer with every approaching step. Hope fuels you to the finish line.

This has to be the neighbor’s farm, but you falter as you draw nearer. For an active working farm Daichi and Kuroo had been chatting a storm up about this morning, it’s awfully quiet. Not an animal in sight. You reason with yourself that it’s simply because of the odd hours. Of course any sane living creature would be asleep at this time. You’re sure the animals are just in their stables and pens. You’ll knock on the door and someone will answer. They’ll help you and everything will be alright.

Knock Knock

Scene: Girl ignores all warning signs.

You’re not completely wrong. When you knock someone does answer and your legs turn to lead as familiar brown eyes amusedly scan you over.

“Well well well, doesn’t this feel like deja vu? You know, it’s dangerous for girls to visit stranger’s homes. You should really fix that bad habit.”

Involuntarily your body takes a shaky step backwards only to collide with a firm surface and suddenly arms are snaking around you, pinning you in place, an unnervingly familiar sly voice chuckling in your ear.

“That was a fun little run, princess. I’ve worked up quite the appetite.”

You cry out, fight instincts taking over your body with flight no longer being an option as Kuroo’s arms painfully tighten their hold on you while he sinks teeth into your skin, biting, sucking, marking your vulnerably exposed neck. Squirming, kicking, flailing to no avail, you let out a choked sob when you realize all you’re doing is enticing the man behind you more, tears forming in your eyes as you feel him harden, hear his lewd moans in your ears as he ruts his clothed erection against you from behind.

You’re manhandled further into the barn, four arms now easily subduing you, toying with you as your struggles are repaid with sharp smacks to your ass, cruel pinches to your now exposed nipples as your clothes are torn off of you. Then suddenly, for a split second, you’re able to breathe, dilated pupils whirling around trying to understand what’s going on-

The barn fills with your screams as a pelt of cold water washes over you, your sobs and writhing a stark contrast to Kuroo’s relaxed smile as he lazily aims the hose at you. But before you can even think about lunging towards him you’re pulled onto Daichi’s lap, his hands cupping your breasts, almost laughably intimate in the way they knead and stroke your skin, lathering soapy suds onto every inch of you. You harshly throw your head back hoping to make contact, anger beginning to lace itself among your tumultuous emotions, but Daichi’s a pro at this, easily foreshadowing your every move. Your retaliation is countered by a painfully accurate smack to the space between your legs, exposed for all to see as Daichi’s knees hook between yours, prying your thighs open.

You feel like livestock, strung up on display for its owners to examine, one of Daichi’s hands holding your wrists behind your back, the position forcing your back to arch, thrusting your chest on full display, the cool night air brushing against your most intimate parts between your spread legs. There’s nothing you can do as Kuroo stalks closer to the two of you, hose still in hand, a razor sharp smile splitting his handsome face. It’s humiliating how Daichi treats you like a frightened animal, cooing at you, deft fingers skillfully tugging and flicking your nipples, drawing soothing gentle lines down your navel before landing at their final destination.

“Good girl.”

His words barely register as you let out a shaky moan when he circles your clit, your body unwillingly melting into his touch. But then you’re tensing, begging them to stop as Kuroo slips one finger inside of you, then two, the feeling of them scissoring inside of you combined with Daichi’s touches and his voice overwhelming, terrifying, delicious. There are three fingers in you now, the embarrassing sound of your leaking hungry cunt brutally apparent in the empty silent space.

“What a dirty girl. I knew you were a slut, but you’re liking this even more than I thought you would. Time to wash you again.”

You mewl in confusion when Kuroo suddenly pulls out of you eliciting mocking laughs from both men, but you’re not left empty for long and you shriek as the hose is ruthlessly plunged into you, cold water gushing into you, filling you, expanding your insides more than you could ever have imagined. Seconds feel like ages and you plead with them to stop, whimpering in discomfort as Daichi splays his free hand across your now bulging stomach. Just when you don’t think you can take anywhere it stops and hot tears of humiliation stray from your eyes as Kuroo pulls the hose out, a splattering of water you can’t control leaking from your clenching hole.

It takes everything in you to not let any more water out. It hurts, the fullness almost unbearable. But you won’t give them the satisfaction- Can’t give them the satisfaction of debasing you further by relieving yourself in front of them like a damn animal.

Except you do. After all, will power can only do so much against biology and you cry out as Daichi forcefully presses down on your stomach, a vulgar explosion of water expelling from between your legs, the harsh flash of a camera in Kuroo’s hands capturing every moment of your disgraceful fall.

Something inside you breaks at that moment. This can’t be real. How could this be happening to you? Things like this don’t happen in real life. It hurts to think.

So, you stop.

It’s easier to give in. Easier to accept the way Kuroo’s cock too easily sinks into your quivering and still dripping wet hole. Easier to melt into Daichi’s soothing voice and touch as he praises your newfound obedience while they perform the same cleansing ritual to your back hole. Easier to moan, drool, and enjoy the stretch and slide of both their cocks fucking you. One at a time. Two at a time. Your mouth is also used when both holes are deemed sufficiently christened…at least for now.

You’re so warm. Warm from the two bodies entwining and smothering you between them. Warm from the cum leaking from every crevice of your body. Warm from the graciously more comfortable temperate shower your two captors decide to reward you with.

Eyes heavy, breath slowing into an exhausted sleep cadence, you barely react to the leather collar carefully locked around your neck, only stirring slightly at the obnoxious sound of the cowbell on it ringing as you’re moved to a different section of the barn, a blindfold wrapped around your head. You sleepily whine as you’re repositioned, your stomach laid across a plush leather surface, legs, arms, and neck supported and locked into position, your breasts hanging below you.

Sleep is lulling you in, finally. Maybe if you sleep and wake up, it’ll all just be a dream, a nightmare. But there’s something too real about the sudden thrumming of electricity that fills the air, something too real about the dildo thrusting in and out of you, something too real about the vibrating plug being pushed into your ass, a pretty cow tail attached to it that brushes and sways against you with every limited movement you make. And there’s something too real about the devices being attached to your breasts, something too real about the suction as your nipples are milked, the vibrators and brushes inside of the plastic cups only enhancing your overstimulation.

Unknown to you, two pairs of eyes watch you, drinking in the sight of their newest pet, satisfied smiles on their lips as they watch you helplessly thrash around as much as your restraints will let you, your cries of ecstasy a sweet melody to their ears as you’re forced to come undone over and over again, a slave to the pleasure forced upon you.

End of Act II.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere daichi #yandere daichi x reader #kuroo smut #daichi smut #haikyuu smut

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gretavanlace · 4 months

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Sugar II (part 7)

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, angst, cheating, choking (barely, and only if you squint) fingering, etc

Hello lovelies! I hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday season and a very merry Christmas (if you celebrate). So sorry for the wait, but I trust you’ll understand…things get so crazy this time of year! Please excuse any mistakes you find, I did some under the weather editing. Xoxo love you all ❤️

True to his word, he was knocking at your metaphorical door the second their brief intermission allowed, and now you find yourself trudging along beside him through a nearly deserted parking lot outside the town cinema that is conveniently attached to the mall.

The mall sees little action these days as it is - throw in the fact that it’s early afternoon smack dab in the middle of the week and you’ve got yourself a recipe for isolation.

Which was exactly the plan all along. It’s a small town, and questions are the last thing you need.

When he’d pulled up in his rental, some luxury sedan with sleek black paint and deeply tinted windows, you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you. How out of place he looked…he would’ve seemed more at home on a tricycle.

Now, after a hug that felt too intimate in the unforgiving glare of the sun, he holds the door open for you, ushering you inside, ever the gentleman, when his phone begins to hum in his pocket.

“Here,” a credit card, black and heavier than standard plastic, slips into your palm as he nods towards the popcorn and candy, “Go wear it out.”

“Trying to get rid of me, Kiszka?” You tease, leaning in conspiratorially, “Am I your dirty little secret?”

With a roll of his eyes, he shuts you down. “Dirty? Yes. Secret? Not so much.”

He tilts his phone to display Josh’s name trilling across the screen. “You’re welcome to say hello, if you’d like. But I honestly detest the thought of sharing you right now. Sounds torturous.”

Your eyes travel over him like he’s a fucking meal. Linen pants cuffed lazily at the ankles to display scuffed and worn boots. Light blue button up, barely buttoned and hardly hiding the softness of his stomach, which you long to gnash your teeth into. Coins and medallions clink about against his chest, locks curling like ribbons along the shoulders of his midnight onyx blazer…no, on this you two can agree, you’d rather not share him either.

“Don’t let him talk so long that I have to miss you.” You smile with a wink that sizzles the blood in his veins as he watches you make your way over to the concession stand.

In keeping with yet another promise, he stands beside you before the popcorn has even been buttered, ready to follow you into whichever darkened room you’ll be inhabiting together for the next couple of hours.

When you fold into your seats, you find yourselves utterly alone.

A half an hour in, and you’re deeply regretting your choice. Something more PG would have been a lifesaver. You should have opted for something animated, for christ’s sake.

Watching them twist through the sheets, his hands dipped into her waist as she rocks above him in the gorgeous, cinematic lighting would normally have no more than a minute effect on you…especially given how little you’ve paid attention to the actual plot.

But he’s so near. You can feel the warmth of his body heat. You can smell that woodsy hint that lilts through his aura, paired with the ghostly remnants of a cigarette he’d swear he never smoked. If you leaned in just a fraction of an inch, your lips could play against the corner of his jaw. And again, you’re alone, so alone, in the cool darkness of this deserted theater.

Watching them this way with him so close has your heart banging about in the cage of your chest like a bird, stunned and frightened. Intense. Inescapable.

It’s the middle of the afternoon. The sun is beating down upon smoldering asphalt just outside these walls, bathing this town, in which you’ve built a life, in blinding light. Outside, it’s just another Wednesday…but here, with him next to you, quiet and concentrating on the two strangers making love on screen, you could be a thousand miles away. An alternate reality where in which only you walk the earth - Jake’s hand in yours as he strolls along beside you.

“Care to share what you’re thinking so hard about?” His question hushes out, though there is no one else around to hear it, but his eyes remain fixed ahead.

“I’m not thinking about anything.” You bristle gently…he knows you far too well for it to ever feel fair.

“I am.” His head tilts towards yours, but still he watches on. “Would you like it if I shared, instead?”

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s rude to talk at the movies?” You tease, simply to avoid whatever you know to be coming, “You really are spending too much time with Josh.”

A thought seems to suddenly occur to him, flickering a nearly visible lightbulb above his head. “Do you ever miss the way it used to be? With Josh? Before I came along and fucked everything up?”

His hand, which has been linked loosely with yours since the lights went down, offers a tiny squeeze. A reassurance that whatever the truth is, it will be alright to say it.

“Never.” And that really is the honesty of it all. “I miss the way things were when it was the three of us sometimes…but I think that’s really only because I miss you. I miss him too. But so differently. And I miss Sam and Danny. I miss…” you fall silent, searching for words that won’t come, and finally settle upon, “everything.”

“You don’t have to.” He is still refusing to look at you, though your eyes are heating his cheek with the intensity of your gaze in the dark. “You don’t have to miss anything, anymore. You can come home, baby. You should come home. I want you to come home. I need you to—” his throat catches, and you watch his lips fold in against the vulnerability.

“I am home.” You argue, wishing you could take it back the second you’ve whispered it into existence.

“Why?” Finally, finally, he turns to catch your eye. “Because of him? I’m so sick of hearing about him it isn’t even funny. And not just because I’m jealous - which I most certainly fucking am - but because it’s such bullshit.”

Trying your hardest, you muster a bit of astonished annoyance, though you feel none of it “My life is bullshit?”

His response is matter of fact as he turns his attention back to the couple still feigning ecstasy before you “Yes, it is.”

“That’s real nice, Jake.” Now your irritation feels a bit more concrete. How dare he so nonchalantly sit here in the dark and try to poke holes in what you’ve cultivated in his absence? “What isn’t bullshit, then? Our pretend life that you choose to live inside? Or the one from years ago that you can’t let go of?”

Another squeeze of your hand comes tender and comforting, “I’ll let that slide because I know you don’t mean to be hurtful…and because I know you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” you pull away and begin to miss his touch instantly. “I just…I have a fucking life, Jacob. And you seem hell bent on ruining it.”

“Okay,” he nods, turning in to nudge your nose with his own. “Take me home then, Sugar. Parade me through your life. Introduce me to Mr. Wonderful. Show me where you sleep. Where you watch TV with him at night. Where you take your baths, floating in the bubbles until you’re pruny and half-drunk on wine. Show me your backyard. Show me the walls he fucks you up against while you don’t think of me. Show me where you hide away from him at night to whisper sweet things to me…and not so sweet things. Let me meet your cat.”

His mouth is so close to yours you can faintly taste his minty toothpaste, “I don’t have a cat.”

“Alright,” he grins, sly as a snake, cheeks sweeping against yours as they perk with his smile, warm and soft “then just take me home and show me your pussy.”

It’s crass and ridiculous, and you know he’s said it simply to make you laugh…it works.

“So this is it, huh?” He leans forward, peering at your house through the windshield as you coast into the driveway. “No porch. No garden. But I’m going to wager there’s a welcome mat.”

His eyes cut over to you, a wickedly adorable gleam dancing about in them, “There is, isn’t there? How fucking quaint.”

How does he remember that you hate welcome mats? That you find them to be untruthful somehow, because certainly not everyone is welcome…some who find themselves at your doorstep should just go away. And how has he guessed that you do, in fact, have one? That he brought one home not long after you moved in and you hadn’t had the heart to tell him to throw it out?

Once more, you’re reminded of Jake’s uncanny ability to peer inside your head, but you refuse to stoke the fires of his ego. “You promised to behave, Jacob.”

He pops his door open and climbs out with a lazy stretch, “Oh, c’mon pretty girl, don’t tell me you believed that.”

Hand slipping from the steering wheel, you steel yourself with a steadying breath. This was a bad idea. A horrible choice. A disaster gearing up to wreak havoc…but here you are, leading the way with Jake strolling along behind you, taking in the suburban elements of your neighborhood with his hands buried casually in his pockets.

He always looks as though he has nowhere to be and all day to get there. It’s calming. Soothing. Like the invisible hand of a beloved caretaker reminding you that there is time enough to breathe. No reason to rush, it says…that gentle air about him. I don’t mind waiting. Take your time.

As you fit your key into the deadbolt, he resumes his antics, “When will Mr. Wonderful return from sea? Is there a widow’s walk where we might watch for him together on this dreadful day of pining?”

Voice warbling and pitched low, he reaches up and tugs a lock of your hair, goading you like a drunken, English pirate.

“Shut up, Oliver, or I’ll go inside and lock the door behind me.” The hinges squeak open…no turning back now.

“No, you won’t.” He scoffs, laughing lightly at his own nonsense. “Seriously, do I get to size up the competition today?”

You welcome him in, slightly dizzy at the sight of him sauntering inside…you’ve imagined him here so many times. Longed for his penchant for filling up space, fat and full, with his greater than life presence.

He makes you feel small in the most wonderful way; you are bird cupped safe and sound in his palms as he holds you close to his chest, protecting you from the world.

And maybe you should tell him these things…the way he makes you feel. His eyes would turn soft, he might touch your face with his tender fingertips and sigh your name into the room like a wisp of a breeze.

But a glance at the mantel, and the framed picture perched there, sends a tiny rush of guilt surging through your veins and you shake the moment off and instead opt for a stern…

“No, you won’t be sizing anything up today, Jake,” you move about the room to keep his eyes on you rather than in the direction of the mantel. “I’m not sadistic enough to subject him to your gleeful nastiness.”

He laughs like he’s never loved anything more, tipping his head back to expose his gorgeous throat…you yearn to bite it. “Gleeful nastiness? Sugar, you wound me.”

Rather than stride across the room to sink your teeth into him, you cross your arms, disgruntled and annoyed. “You’d have way too much fun being an asshole, and he’d be far too nice to put you in your place.”

That darkens his eyes, and you almost regret it. Almost. “Put me in my place? Are you choosing sides, sweetheart? Because it sounds an awful lot like you are.”

“Maybe I am.”

He’s moving toward you now, and you should back away, you know you should. Instead, your feet shuffle forward.

“Pretend your heart lies with him all you want,” he sweeps his lips over the apple of your cheek, “but I know better, and so do you.”

“Kiss me.” You bite your lip against the plea a second too late.

Those warm eyes of his, like coffee stirred with a splash of cream, flick down at your mouth and back to meet your gaze, and then his answer comes simply and with finality, “No.”

“No?” You’re incredulous, and admittedly stung by his rejection.

“No.” He reiterates, stepping away from you as your hands drop uselessly from his shoulders to your sides. “Take me on the tour, pretty girl. Show me this wonderful life of yours. I simply cannot wait.”

The “tour” he was so eager for is winding down as you steer him down the hall hurriedly, hoping he’ll ignore the door that is cracked and streaming light into the hallway.

Of course, he doesn’t. “What’s the rush, baby?” He smiles, feigning confusion, “What prize hides behind this one? Is this your bedroom?”

Suddenly, there is no space left between your bodies, and his is radiating a possessive heat as he backs you up into the room, guiding you along with a sure and steady arm wrapped around your waist.

“Is this where Mr. Wonderful fucks my girl?”

“Jake,” you’re protesting, but your fingers have curled into his shirt, thumb toying with one of the buttons that has likely never known what it’s like to be fastened. “Stop talking about it.”

He tilts his head in mock confusion, “Why? You like sex, I like sex, let’s talk about it, yeah? Oh, this is it right here, isn’t it? Look at this great big beautiful bed. Did you make it yourself this morning? Are the sheets clean?”

His mouth is at your throat now, licking and sucking between his terrible taunting questions. “If I laid you down right now, would I smell you on them? Would I smell him?”

“Jake, shut up,” you snap, but you’re pulling his lips in closer, hands fisting loosely in his hair.

You expect him to toss you down on the bed. To crawl on top of you. To grab you. To fuck you. To own you on the bed in some misguided show of territorial dominance.

And you expect to let him.

You expect to fight to be on top so that his hair will rest upon your pillow…so tonight you might drift away into a peaceful slumber gifted by the scent of him blurring your senses.

Instead, you find yourself pressed up against the wall, “I won’t have you in that fucking bed, even though I could, if I felt so inclined. I can tell you want it.” He sizes you up while grinding his cock into you with a delicious rhythm that’s got your breath panting out in tiny puffs already. “You do, don’t you, baby? You want me to fuck you in that bed. You want me all over the sheets he sleeps in.”

You’re ashamed, so fucking ashamed…but it’s true.

He’ll go, and you’ll miss him so terribly, and in some sick and horrifically twisted way you want him to spill on to the sheets, to leave his fingerprints on every surface. To lick across the bathroom mirror. To use your hairbrush so that there might be a strand or two of his silken waves left behind. You want him to drink from the milk carton and lounge about on the furniture. To lose the remote between the couch cushions. To tilt all the pictures uneven with his careless touch. You want him everywhere…to leave behind tiny remnants of himself once he’s gone, little pieces to ease your aching heart.

“Tell me, sugar.” He fucks himself against you with quick rolls of his hips until you’re praying his name. “Tell me the truth, baby. Tell me where you want me to give you my cock. I’m so hard for you, sweetheart.”

“In our bed,” it’s a rush of desperation as you clutch at him, dragging him closer to you…but it still isn’t enough, you wish you could crawl inside him. “Fuck me in our bed. Make me cum in our bad. Make me say your name in our bed. Please, jakey, please,”

Ignoring your disgraceful display, he continues to rock into you, gasping into the crook of your neck while his breathless moans tickle their way into your ear, “Does he make you cum in that bed? Does he take care of your pretty cunt the way I do? Does he make you shake and beg for terrible things? Hmm? Are you a good girl for him in that bed? Look at it.”

You shake your head back and forth against the wall, thrusting wildly to meet him. He’s right, he’s so fucking hard.

His palm wraps around your throat, squeezing at the sides, directing your line of sight. “I said fucking look at it. I want your eyes on that bed when I make you cum. I’m gonna make it mine without laying a goddamn finger on it. My bed, and my girl with her pretty wet pussy that belongs to me.”

“Inside,” it’s a rasping, shaking plea, and it should embarrass you and cast your eyes downward in shame…but it doesn’t. You’ve always wanted him this badly, and he knows it as inherently as he remembers the walls of his childhood home. “I need you inside, need your cock.”

“That’s it, fuck doll…” there is a filthy smirk evident in his tone, though his face is once again buried against your neck, “Beg for my cock. Tell me how badly you need it. Ask real sweet, sugar…be my very good girl.”

Your bodies writhe together feverishly until you feel like you might catch fire and burn away into ashes that will singe against his tongue like scorching want “Please, Jakey…please. I think about you all the time. I can’t clear my head, it’s always so full of you. Fuck me, fuck me, please please please…”

A painfully ragged groan rumbles out of him as his mouth, eager and starved, sucks against your throat, “Not gonna fuck you here. Not in this room where you let him touch you, not in this house where you let him love you.”

“Outside,” your teeth clench around the word until your jaw is screaming as loudly as the ache between your legs. “Take me out back, fuck me there…”

At last, his face, so beautifully flushed and dew-kissed, emerges from the crook of your neck, “You want me to take you outside and slide you onto my cock all wet and pretty? Want to let your neighbors hear what a whore you are for me? Let them hear how wet I make your gorgeous cunt? Hmm? Let them hear you whine my fucking name?”

“I don’t care what they hear…” you’re nearly mewling with need, clawing at his shoulders, clutching at his shirt, nearing your end, but so desperate to run from it because you want so much more. You don’t want this to be over without him slipped inside you, hard and hot.

“Look at me.” The insistence in his tone leaves no room for argument and your eyes flutter open to lock in on his.

A breathy, “You’re so beautiful,” trips off your tongue - a reflex that couldn’t be helped if you tried. He’s an evil, diabolical doctor banging a tiny hammer just below your knee cap.

A slow, languid blink is the only indication he gives that he’s even heard you. “You know my face, sugar?”

It’s the most absurd question that has ever been asked of you. Of course you know his face. Sometimes, it seems like you know nothing but his face.

Those sleepy eyes, that seem to see more than anyone has ever seen, down the deep and winding halls within you. His plush lips, full and pink, cruelly perfect, with a Cupid’s bow to rival the angel’s even if you stacked them all together. Rounded tip of his nose, different now, but still constantly luring your kiss. His jaw, so strong at times, so soft at others, but always begging for your tongue to trail along its path…his brow, his eyelashes, the way locks of hair display it all like a gilded edged frame adorning a wall in some ancient, European museum.

Yes, you know his face. You will always know his face. He is true north on your compass. He is the only direction in which your heart will ever willingly travel.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak even as your hips rock against him.

“Good girl,” he presses the softest kiss to your mouth, “I want your eyes on that bed when you cum, but I want my face in your heart, and my name on your pretty pink tongue. We’re gonna fucking erase him, aren’t we?”

Suddenly, you wonder who he means? Does he mean this new rival, who really isn’t his rival at all? Or does he mean Josh, even after all this time? Does he even know which? Do you?

“No, baby…” your voice is but a whimper, and it tugs a growl out of his lungs that makes you weaker still, “I don’t want to cum like this. I need you inside of me. Make me feel good, Jakey…make me whole.”

“Not here,” he shakes his head sternly and you shrink away from his scolding, head resting against the cool wall. “Never here. Not in this house. I hate this fucking house. I want to burn it down and salt the goddamn earth.”

“Give me more,” your fingers are tearing and pulling at him frantically. You need so much from him always, you need his everything.

“I’ll give you more,” his voice sounds feral, grinding and growling like sandpaper…like he is lost and stumbling along far away from himself, as he jerks you away from the wall and slams you up onto your vanity.

Tiny bottles and tubes tumble and spill to the floor, but rather than care, you reach back and blindly sweep the rest away to make room for whatever is about to happen.

“I’ll give you fucking more,” he bites into your throat as though he wants to swallow you down and carry you around inside him. “I’ll give you fucking anything if you’ll just let me. Let me, sugar…fuck, please baby.”

“Just…” you can’t finish your thought…can’t find your mental footing while vibrating with such desperation, so you don’t even try. Instead, you begin fumbling with his belt, but he shoves your hands away.

“I told you,” he grabs hold of your face, a firm yet shaking hand tight around your chin, “Not here. Stop.”

On your fingers march, fighting with leather and metal until his voice, soft and mournful now, guides you out of the haze, “Not here, sugar. Not here.”

Everything slows in a blink, as if fate has adjusted the playback speed, and you find yourself watching with bated, yet quieting breaths as he pops the button on your jeans and lowers the zipper, eyes on your face all the while.

He slips his fingers in slowly, carefully…you are precious and deserving of his care, and he wants you to have it.

“Lean back,” he soothes, the heel of his palm grinding softly against your clit, “Let me take care of my girl.”

You’re prepared to whine and barter, but he shakes his head the moment your lips part.

“Shh, settle down, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” free hand now petting at your face, he offers you the gentlest smile. “You’re so wet, sugar. So warm.”

“Jake,” you’re rocking up to meet him now, slipping into the breathtaking haze of bliss he saves just for you.

“What, pretty girl?” God, the way he’s speaking to you…each word dripping with adoration and awe. Drenched in lust. Positively soaked in love. “Does it feel good?”

“So good,” your eyes are drifting closed now as you wade deeper into the tepid pool of your Jakey. You want to stay forever, to sink into his swirling blue waters until you’re forced to suck him into your lungs and drown.

“Eyes open.” The demand is soft and delicate, like lace drawn across your flushed skin.

You recall his earlier instruction and cast your heated stare at the bed you share with a man you could never exist for the way you live and breathe for Jake, but he shakes his head, “I was wrong…I don’t want that. Look at me, sugar. Right here, look at me.”

How could you ever want to look at anything else? Your gaze locks with his, and in reward, he curls his searching fingers and drags a high pitched moan off the tip of your tongue.

“Good girl, baby…” he nods, dropping his forehead to meet yours “So pretty. Silky little pussy wrapped up snug and tight around me like she never wants me to leave.”

“Don’t,” you’re writhing and grabbing at him now, crawling closer and closer to the edge, “Don’t leave me, Jake.”

His hand trails down from your face to cover your heart, “Is that coming from here, too?”

Watching him like this, your chest feels like it could easily cave in…like it could crumple in on itself - a balled up scrap of cheap aluminum foil crushed inside a fist. He is a sonnet come to life. A haunting song, living and breathing, watching you like you are love incarnate.

Of course it’s coming from your heart. It’s coming from your soul…or perhaps from the soul the two of you sometimes seem to share.

“I don’t know why I keep fighting this,” strangely, tears are burning in your eyes as the white hot band of pleasure stretches tighter still in your belly, “You’re all I want. You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted,”

Satisfied, the air sighs out of his lungs as his fingers crook just perfectly and unravel you with a jolt. It is such a lazy, undulating ribbon of pleasure, unwinding through your veins like slow heat as you gasp and hush his name.

“Just like that, baby,” he coaxes, sounding far away. “Nice and slow…just like that. Shh, I’m right here. I’ve got you, sugar, I’ve got you.”

Your eyes never stray from his, even when the intensity you find in them threatens to crack your chest wide open, and when you finally come down, that’s how you both stay for so long you can almost believe the rest of the world has fallen away.

When his fingers twitch and you shiver with overstimulation, it breaks the spell and he pulls back… reluctantly sliding slowly from the cashmere grip of your cunt, only to suck those two fingers into his mouth with a muted groan of content.

“Pack a bag, sugar…” his hands cup your cheeks, fingers slick against your face as his nose tips up to meet yours, “Or don’t. We’ll go shopping and I’ll buy you anything and everything you’ve ever needed. Whatever you want, pretty girl…it’s yours.”

“I—“ you can’t seem to think straight.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he’s teasing now, with a barely there smirk taunting his lips, “Let me steal you away and take you home where you belong. I’ll write pretty songs for you, and make love to you every morning until the sun is so envious of us it resents having to rise. Let me build you a house. Let me till a garden for my girl.”

At last, you find your voice, “I have to do this the right way, Jake. His heart deserves care. I don’t want to hurt him any more than I have to. I’m the bad guy, here.”

“No,” that soft, hidden away smile of his clutches at your heart. “I think I’m the bad guy here. I just can’t find a shit to give.”

You’ve righted your disheveled selves and are now attempting to right all the other wrongs, with you stretched out on the rug watching as Jake picks up the tiny bottles and jars that litter the floor, asking after each one…

“Highlighter? What the hell does this do? Are you a book report?” And “How many lip glosses do you even need, sugar? You only have two lips.”

…before carefully placing said product back on the vanity - when, way ahead of schedule, the garage door rumbles to life.

Your heart lurches painfully in your chest, but on his end, Jake’s eyes light up with menacing delight, “Well, what do you know, babe? It seems our dear captain has returned.”

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grogusmum · 26 days

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IRL

Part 3 @han_shot_first

JAVI X F!PLUS SIZE!READER

SUMMARY: Set before the events of The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. Javi and Reader are friends online, and after a year of DMing they decide to meet. (The only change is Javi and Gabriela are just friends)

WORD COUNT: 1800ish

WARNINGS: Reader has insecurities about her size and appearance. Javi is adorable, be warned. Things get spicy.

Part 2

“Girasol,” he whispers; voice husky. Your knees go a little watery not only from the want in Javi’s voice for you but for the sweet nickname, sunflower.

His warm, plush lips taste your mouth, chin, and neck. Tickling behind your ear, you had never kissed anyone with a mustache or much facial hair. It tickles and rasps over your soft skin deliciously, especially your neck, causing your shoulder to jump with a smiling gasp.

Being pressed against the wall was also new to you like this gorgeous man can't get enough of you and needs to be as close as he can possibly get. One hand is cradling your jaw; the other travels from your hip under your sweater, where he has found that the dress is sleeveless. He hums, pleased by his discovery. You try not to feel emotional and keep the thought - thank you. Thank you for being attracted to me, even though… inside your head. But it brings up some tears that you blink away.

The moment you open your eyes, the lights flicker, signaling you to return to the theater.

“Javi?”

“Hmmm?” He murmurs, distracted by devouring your neck.

“The next film-”

He pulls away as the lights flicker again.

“We will pick this up back at the hotel,” he rumbles.

Javi takes your hand and leads the way to the theater. Since you are among the last to sit, Javi looks and tugs you toward the back of the theater. He noticed your glassy eyes when he pulled away. He wonders if he overstepped.

After you settle into your seat-

“I'm sorry,” Javi looks at you with his puppiest eyes.

“For?”

“Well, I- for,” Javi struggles. “ Maybe I was too forward, and now we don't have good se-”

You smile; Javi really is the sweetest.

“Javi, I have never been so turned on in my life,” you murmur in his ear, and his face breaks into a broad smile, his eyes dancing.

While the rest of the day flies and is more fun than you've had in a long time, every once and a while, you get a little in your head when hobnobbing with “the beautiful people.” But somehow, Javi seems to feel it every time, and he brings you closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, murmuring a sweet check-in.

Online, late at night, you would talk and talk, and you thought you felt a tension in the last month before planning to meet, but you always half-heartedly dismissed it. And when you saw his picture, you wholeheartedly dismissed it. How can someone like him…but here you both are. He doesn't even see the other women. Javi has at least one hand on you at all times. Holding your hand or on your thigh with his thumb chasing little circles during the films and Q&As, his arm wrapped around your waist during intermission. This new layer to your relationship is exciting, if a little scary.

All you have been thinking about since the alcove is getting back to the hotel, but as Javi checks you both in, your traitorous brain starts to race; you know Javi is a good guy, he would never just presume, and if you put on the brakes he would respect that…but now that it's here. It's not that you don't want to; you want to, by the gods, do you. But what if he doesn't like what he sees when you are, quite literally, laid bare?

Javi returns with the key cards, his stomach knots in new and exciting ways.

“It's a two-bedroom penthouse suite,”he murmurs, primarily to his feet. He can feel the tips of his ears going hot, “I got them before - but you know, if you don't - I mean, if we-”

Javi doesn't know what you are thinking. But he can easily see the anxiety scrawled across you. But he doesn't know what has you in this state—

Watching him, you can see his effort. To keep you comfortable, respecting your boundaries, and he keeps showing you he is attracted to you, all of you.

So you tell your liar of a brain to shut up for once, and your first finger goes gently under his chin, tipping his head to look at you.

“Javi? Please take me upstairs.”

This is when Javi’s brain short circuits.

The penthouse is, of course, gorgeous, just as Javi hoped. There’s a fireplaced living room, with the spread of chocolate-covered strawberries, soft cheeses, warm crusty bread, and the champagne he asked for on a coffee table.

“Javi! This is, does this just come with penthouse suites or…”

“There are always, well, ‘amenities,’ but um, I asked for your favorites.”

“When?”

“As soon as you said you’d come to visit.”

“But-”

“I know it was a little bold of me, but I - sort of had this big plan to try to win your heart this weekend. But like I said, I got two rooms, I wasn’t, you know, ‘expecting something’,” All of this comes out in a rush, but Javi takes a breath and slows down, his eyes taking in your lovely face.

“‘Han Shot First’, I’ve been having feelings for you for a long, long time.”

It's your face’s turn to warm, as romantic as his nickname Girasol is, as beautiful as it makes you feel... There's something about him using your url handle at this moment - the name he knew before he had seen your picture… You fling your arms around him, and without hesitation, his mouth seals to yours. His hand goes to your cardigan, peeling it off. Before you can have another wave of anxiety, the groan Javi lets loose as his hands run up and down your upper arms and around your back settles your qualms. He presses you as close to him as he can without occupying the same space, thus defying the laws of physics.

“Girasol”, Javi murmurs. “I can't believe how lucky I am.”

His hands rove your back, hips, and backside. You keep beating back your traitorous brain, so you can just enjoy how this feels. He likes everything he's touching.

One of his hands comes to the side of your face, holding you tight in his kiss.

“May I undress you?”

Javi begins unbuttoning your dress, his hands so sure at every button. He pulls back the top of the dress off your shoulders, and his needy kisses travel from one to the other, stopping to enjoy your collarbones and the hollow of your throat. Then he lets the dress fall, a circle at your feet. You slip his blue blazer off his shoulders and start unbuttoning his shirt. You peek back at his face to see adoration.

You nod, and the look he gave you in the alcove returns causes a pleasant zing in your lower belly.

Javi becomes impatient and brings his arms hurriedly out of his sleeves, and pulls you against him once more, his arms wrapped around your waist. With urgent kisses, he walks you backward until your calves hit the bed.

Giving a yip as you drop onto it, a nervous giggle bubbles up, and you take a breath, eyes closed. Mirroring your action in the lobby, Javi's curled forefinger gently lifts your face to him.

“I am enamored with every inch of you, Girasol. Every last inch.”

Against your will, your eyes swim, so that is where Javi decides to start in his worship. His hands cradle your face, thumbs brush the tears away. Pressing kisses to your cheeks.

Your hands rest on his narrow hips as you look up at this beautiful man, this silly, passionate, delightful man.

He wants me, you think, all of me.

Your hands travel up his sun-kissed torso, the sweet curve of his belly, but just as your hands settle on his chest, he has your shoulders, pressing them to the bed. And this was that moment you feared, laid out on the bed. Suddenly Javi’s got you behind your knees with those enormous paws of his, and with a quick and decisive pull, he's got your ass at the edge of the bed and thighs over his broad shoulders, and you can feel his breath at your core.

“Javi!” Breath quickening, you are pretty sure you almost came from being moved like that; you don’t get “thrown around”

Javi's hands run up your thighs, his thumbs massage the crease where your hip meets them -

“Did you like that, Girasol?”

💚 THANKS FOR READING 💚

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

If you enjoyed this fic and would like to read for Javi or any of my works, click the link to my masterlist. If you would like to get tagged for any of my fics, click the link to my taglist form.

#javi gutiérrez #javi g #javi gutiérrez x plus size!f!reader #javi gutiérrez x you #javi gutiérrez x reader #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez

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hippoinspector · 4 months

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funny little redraw of droog on a card from enstars because i like him and im not well. thank you to @inkwell-intermission for doing the original sketch a while back <3

#diamonds droog #midnight crew #homestuck #my art #homestuck intermission

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selenedistress · 5 months

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If they ever make a Kill Six Billion Demons anime they should have fullmetal alchemist style intermission cards with a k6bd character and a voice saying Kill Six Billion Demons in a slightly different tone every time.

"Kill Six Billion Demons!"

"Kill Six Billion Demons."

#kill six billion demons #kill 6 billion demons #ksbd #k6bd #webcomic #I'd give my left kidney for a k6bd anime

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

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Final Bids [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: (19) Stakes are high and mischief is rife at Stark's charity auction. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Auction trope. Smuttish. Language. Mild Angst -> Fluff. (w/c 4.7k)

Loki hadn’t shown up fighting his way through customs at the airport. There was no dramatic kiss on the runway, and no hint of his theatrical presence at the other side when you landed at JFK. He’s never text you before, he won’t start now; you thought, staring at the blank phone screen resting on the bar of the Tower’s event suite. You stared at it, hoping for a miraculous flash. This is mad.

“Hey.” Wanda said, sliding into the seat beside yours. “Hey.” you replied flatly. She was dressed to the nines tonight, cleavage bursting from a sinfully red strapless dress. “You better be careful in that thing, Thor will get the wrong idea.” you muttered, taking another sip of your drink. “Oh, I’m counting on it.” Wanda winked. “Have you seen him?” she said, flipping her hair over one shoulder as she scanned the room.

“No...I need to talk to him, actually.” you said, joining her in scouting the bustling crowd. Wanda hummed, distracted. Needing to talk to Thor, you chided yourself; say you’re desperate without saying you’re desperate. “I still think you should have given Stark a pair of used panties for this thing.” the redhead mumbled coyly as she turned back to you, satisfied her audience of choice was not in the direct vicinity. “I don’t think anyone wants my dirty underwear, girl.” you laughed, happy for the distraction. “Please.” she scoffed. “Whatever pheromones you’re pumping out had two gods fighting over you. Lit-e-ral-ly.” she said, emphasising with four slaps of her palm on the bar. “People would pay good money to wear that shit like perfume. Mark my words.” You shrugged, seeing Wanda’s eyes narrow. “I think my pheromones are officially out of business, honestly” you sighed, “Rome didn’t exactly go to plan. I think we’re done.” Wanda rolled her eyes. “You always say that. And then the next time I see you, the hair’s all fucked out and you have a big dopey smile on your face and something new he’s said or done that’s driving you crazy. It’s your thing. Your couple thing.” “We’re not a couple.” you snapped.

“If you say so.” Wanda murmured coyly, manoeuvring the tiny straw hanging off her cocktail into her mouth.

There was a pause as you both ran your eyes over the elegant guests returning from intermission. So far, the charity auction had been a roaring success. Your combat belt went for a respectable forty-eight large, while a pair of Banner’s ripped shorts and Bucky’s unwashed sweatband had both garnered over fifty thousand. You knew the world had gone officially mad when Rogers’ notebook of patriotic mindfulness ramblings reached double that. Tony was working his magic on a group of shareholders near the head of the hall, raucous laughter splitting the gin-soaked air. Steve stood at the podium, frowning. As expected, he was taking the duty of auctioneer very seriously.

“What did you hand over to Tony’s fund, then?” you said, crossing your legs on the barstool. “A bra.” Wanda shrugged, as you spluttered on a mouthful of diet coke. “What?!” she postured innocently, “it’s for charity.” The two of you burst into peals of laughter, your gaze drawn back to Captain Rogers squinting at his cards on the stage. “Oh, Steve’s gonna love that.” you gasped, wiping a tear from your eye. Wanda shrugged again. “They said a personal item that people would want – so I complied.” Clint peeled away from the edge of the crowd, leaning on the bar beside you. “Ladies.” he said solemnly, letting his stare wander from a distance over the pulsing mass of people. “Have either of you seen Laufeyson?” Wanda shook her head. “I don’t think he’s coming, he’s not on the auction list – hasn’t even submitted anything.” she said casually, fiddling with her straw. Your stomach dropped, as Clint grimaced. “Good.” he said, letting out a sigh of relief. You frowned. “What’s the problem?” A forced smile stretched across Barton’s face. “Oh nothing! Just...trying to lay low that’s all. He and I had a little...never mind.” You shifted your handbag on the bar, feeling the weight of Loki’s seal rolling gently against the sides. He wouldn’t want to lose it, you thought; remembering the awkward conversations with airport security in Rome. A flash of green caught your attention out the corner of your eye. Whipping your head towards the entrance, you watched as a polished and preened Amanda sashayed around the edge of the crowd like a shark. Green, you scoffed. She’s really laying it on thick. Amanda teetered on her heels before pausing, forehead creased as she plopped down on a chair and hoisting one leg over the other. Clint cleared his throat. “They’re starting again, Tony sent me to get you guys. Shall we?” The next forty-five minutes went by in a haze as your gaze flickered intermittently to the main doors. Loki never missed a chance to schmooze with the higher echelons of Midgardian society. He enjoyed the look of abject terror on Steve’s face too much. You clapped dryly with the others as each lot was closed: Thor’s silk nightcap, Natasha’s make-up case, Lang’s personalised hip-flask and of course...Wanda’s bra. Where is he? You couldn’t help but notice Amanda glancing over her shoulder, meeting your eyes each time before quickly turning away. She made no bids, you noticed; but her stare wandered to the main entrance with suspicious regularity. The same as your own. Steve rumbled on, pausing for laughter as the crowd graciously indulged their host for the evening. Tony heckled from the side-lines, making the captain’s cheeks flush pink on each occasion. As he began the speech he had rehearsed for the closing remarks, you saw his blue eyes widen. The tell-tale shuffle of bodies parting behind you was the only other sound you registered as whispers ran through the crowd like the rustle of leaves. “Good Evening, Agent.” a low voice drawled softly over your shoulder. Wanda elbowed you teasingly in the ribs, her hands still folded on the high circular cocktail table. You elbowed her sharply back.

Tilting your chin casually to the side, you saw the blurred edge of Loki’s profile as he hovered at a respectful distance. “You’re late.” you hissed, heart thundering in your chest as the scent of him infused the air. You could have sworn the holy incense from the Roman church still clung to his hair. Loki chuckled lightly under his breath, hot air ghosting your ear. “I think you’ll find I’m right on time.” he purred, before peeling away to a space at a standing table to your side. Suddenly your mouth felt dry, flickering your eyes to the side covertly. Loki was wearing a suit tonight, but not just a suit; you whined internally. Never just a suit. Snug trousers of darkest forest green clung to his legs, the straight hem tailored flawlessly to the tongues of his dress shoes. A jacket of green sateen was wrapped around his exquisite musculature, biceps bulging beneath the glossy fabric as he conjured a drink to his open hand. You ran your eyes over the black lapel, his strong chest flat beneath the trussed layers of propriety you wanted to rip from his body.

Beneath the jacket, a silk waistcoat hugged his broad torso; the buttons glinting in the low atmospheric lights. A matching cravat wound around his long neck, fastened with a peculiar brooch you could only assume was Asgardian.

His hair was drawn back in an unkempt bun, messy strands hanging by his carved cheekbones. The contrast between his refined ensemble and the muss of his hair was not coincidental. It couldn’t be. A gentleman in the streets, a ravenous Asgardian whore in the sheets; it screamed. In his free hand, he held a cane; the tip heavy and ornately carved. Completely unnecessary, of course. Of course, you thought – watching him sip his drink with a knowing smirk. People were staring. And among them, Amanda. Steve cleared his throat pointedly, trying to recapture the section of the crowd engrossed in the unexpected late arrival. Your gaze swung back to the blushing blonde just as a stagehand crept sheepishly to his side, handing him a note.

“-and so in conclusion we would like to thank...to...wait wha-?” he raised his hands towards Tony, waving to the note with undisguised irritation. You saw Stark shrug, closing his eyes as his eyebrows raised. Just go with it, the gesture said. Steve frowned. “It seems we have one final item for auction, folks.” the captain said sourly, his feelings on the matter abundantly clear. “Courtesy of Loki Laufeyson apparently...which is..is-” He trailed off as he flipped the prompt card in his hand over, before waving it subtlety to the man who had delivered it, hidden offstage. The stagehand shrugged, making Steve purse his lips. “Well...I’m sure whatever our newest member has submitted for tonight’s fundraising efforts will be top notch. Why don’t we get the man himself up here to tell us about it, since he’s being so coy?” Steve looked smugly towards towards the god in the crowd, before he frowned. Loki was already sauntering towards the stage, tipping the ostentatious cane to excited applause before he began to climb the steps. You could see Steve’s lips moving, the rest of his face a stoic warning. He spun on his heels towards the audience, whipping the microphone cable once. “So, why don’t you tell the generous people here what they’ll be bidding on?” he announced through gritted teeth, an air of joviality barely masking his anxiety. Rogers gaze ran suspiciously over the god's placid features before turning back to the crowd with a showman smile. Loki clasped his hands behind his back, leaning forward to the microphone clenched in the captain’s fist. “Me.” he said, slowly.

There were gasps as the guests leaned to each others ears, hands impulsively travelling to the bidding paddles discarded prematurely. “Ha-ha-ha he’s only joking folks. Let’s not get excited.” Steve chuckled, extending a hand to pat down the enthusiasm on the air. “Why don’t you tell them what they’ll really be bidding on.” he said with a maniacal fake smile that looked like it hurt. Loki’s smirk was a masterpiece of mischief, flirting at the dimples at the base of those devastatingly high cheekbones. He bent forward to the microphone, and you saw the exact moment that Steve realised it was too late to pull it away. “Me.” Loki repeated with a growl, his voice even richer and more seductive the second time. His long fingers wrapped around Steve’s white knuckles, holding him steady. “For one night, for the highest bidder; I will show them what it is to be brought to the precipice of sanity through pleasure. My complete and utter carnal devotion. An unlocking of your basest and most debauched desires. That is my submission to this affair.” He straightened, his eyes flickering to Steve’s face now pinker than his fuchsia tie. The poor captain’s eyes were watering. You felt sick. “What the fuck is he doing?” Wanda hissed, before downing her drink. “This is ridiculous, how dare he... he needs a knee in the nuts-” You turned, shushing her. “No, just...I need to..think.” you muttered. On one hand, if he didn’t go above fifty thousand...you could probably afford it. Just. But then, why should you? The arrogant, cruel prick that he was. If there was ever a way to show you that he was over it, over you – then this was it. Fuck him, you thought; blood thundering as you saw Amanda twirling the paddle between her fingers. And he’s definitely going above fifty-fucking-thousand. You saw Tony begin to squirm as Steve took a few tentative steps to the front of the podium. “You know...ladies and gents I gotta say this is pretty heckin’ unorthodox right here and I’m not sure-” In a handful of frantic bounds, Tony was on the stage; his arms spread wide before he clapped Rogers harshly on the back. “-OK, thanks Cap.” he announced playfully. “Captain Goodtimes over here doesn’t think it would be proper to support tonight’s great cause with this...fine specimen on the bidding block.” He motioned up and down Loki’s long body, his endless limbs wrapped in the exquisite green suit that shimmered like blackbird feathers in the light. “Do you agree with him?” Tony yelled incredulously, winding up the baying crowd with a circling fist as chants of No filled the air. Steve was incandescent with embarrassment, redness flushing down beneath the collar of his shirt. “Are you ready to get a piece.of.this?” Tony roared, as Loki spun slowly on his heels, hands clasped behind his back before he raised them outwards with faux sheepishness. A smile tugged his lips, eyes smouldering across the crowd becoming steadily unsettled as friends became adversaries in the face of competition. Chaos was brewing.

You suddenly felt yourself jostled, Wanda’s hand grasping at your forearm before it slipped away. Swathes of guests crowded forward, each trying to be subtle and failing miserably. Men and women crushed together towards the stage, elbows popping dangerously close to eyes as they readied their paddles for action. “Let’s start the bidding at...twenty thousand.” Tony postured towards the fizzing audience, casting an appraising glance back towards Loki who met his stare with a tilt of his head. His lips pursed, a silent 'ooo' sliding between his lips as he feigned offence.

Tony grinned, pressing the microphone innocently to his chin. “Number seventeen, I see you.” he pointed. “Twenty five thousand.” a strangled voice shrieked behind you. “Twenty-five, not bad.” Tony mumbled, beginning to pace. Loki swung the handle of his cane casually, before making it flip in the air and land expertly back in his grip. The crowd groaned in unison, the scent of mass arousal beginning to hang heavy in the air. You felt your pussy clench beneath your party dress, beads of sweat beginning to form on your collarbone. In a flash, the cane disappeared, as Tony let his forefinger trail down the silk of Loki’s waistcoat, toying with a chain hanging from the pocket. “It’s a nice suit Laufeyson – you’ve got quite the wardrobe, but I think your bidders are more interested in what’s underneath all that slutty satin am I right?” he said coyly, raising an eyebrow. Feral roars of approval sounded around you, as you were shunted back and forth. The man beside you shot up his hand. “Thirty-five!” he yelled, waving the paddle in the air. The increments came like bullets as Loki’s fingers toyed with the silk cravat wound around his neck, sliding the material teasingly from the curve. He threw it into the audience, two women falling to the floor as they became a squabbling mess of bare legs and dishevelled Chanel.

This can’t be happening, you thought with a wave of panic. You clenched the paddle in your fist to your chest, watching the smouldering sweep of Loki’s gaze run like treacle over his captive audience as he began to shrug the satin jacket from his shoulders.

“Fifty!” you heard yourself gasp, arm straight in the air. Tony’s face scrunched, his amusement palpable as he acknowledged the desperate bid with a nod. But it was white noise. “Sixty-five!” the man beside you blurted immediately, shouldering you roughly to the side as he squeezed forwards. You cast a pleading look towards Wanda, who shook her head in disapproval. Tony didn’t have to say a word, pointing to each bidder as they continued to come thick and fast. Loki held his waistcoat with one long finger, dangling it teasingly to the side before letting it drop. It vanished before hitting the floor. Seventy. Eighty-two. Ninety-five thousand. The devastatingly erotic god treated each button of his shirt like an act of foreplay. His fingers caressed the curve before releasing another sliver of fair skin to the sound of baying moans of desire all around you. Beginning to force your way against the tide of bodies to Wanda, you collided with Scott. “Oh hey.” he grinned, eyes wide with excitement. “This is fucking ca-ray-zy right?” Another wave of squeals told you Loki had reached the end of the line of buttons. Suddenly Scott raised both arms, throwing his head back. “A HUNDRED N’ FIFTY BIG ONES!” he yelled, returning to his previous stance as if nothing had happened.

“What?” he quipped casually, giving a shrug of resignation as he was immediately outbid. “Just shooting my shot. Plus, this is legend already. Iconic. No way I ain’t gonna be part of that.” You rolled your eyes, beginning to press against the mass of bodies to the side. “We should get t-shirts. ‘I bid on Loki Laufeyson’…” he joked to no-one. “’And all I got was this stupid semi.’” he added wistfully as you finally reached Wanda. “I saw your bid. It was kind of lame.” she drawled. You shook your head. “I don’t know what to do Wanda.” you whined, wringing your hands. You heard a commotion as the crowd parted over near the doors – a woman had fainted. Loki’s smirk was pure drama as he showed off the endless length of his body with finesse, bare chest glowing beneath the stage-lights. His legs were wide – a perfect triangle wrapped in tight, luxurious cotton that creased against his thighs. The bulge of his cock was clearly visible, every subtle sway of his hips making the fabric stretch against the outline. The bladed angles of his face flashed tantalisingly beneath heavy-lidded eyes as he reached for his belt buckle. Five hundred thousand. Five-fifty. Six hundred.

Wanda rolled her eyes again. “Look – if he doesn’t say it back? Well then he’s the same asshole he’s always been. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that.” she mumbled, taking another sip of her drink. “But the auction-” you whined, feeling Wanda’s other-worldly grip tighten on your wrist. “You’re an Avenger, dumbass.” she growled. “Fuck the auction.” “Fuck the auction.” you repeated unconvincingly under your breath, turning to face the source of your undoing. Loki’s eyes met yours across the room as he ambled forwards, ignoring the hordes of guests who had lost all sense of decorum scrounging at the stage’s edge. They were feral. Over the chaotic din, you could swear you heard the clunk of metal as his graceful fingers toyed with the metal fastening at his hips. He slid the leather out of its loops slowly. Tony wolf- whistled. “Hoooo-eee folks, do I hear seven hundred thousand for a night of debauchery with this actual...real life...bona-fide sex god. Think of the orphans, people.” he jibed, working the crowd into a frenzy. Eight hundred, eight-fifty, nine hundred. You watched the constant flash of frenzied paddles rise and fall, your breaths becoming ragged under duress. “Do I hear one million?!” Tony smarmed, unfurling his arm towards Loki who had placed his hands on his hips, working the waistband of his trousers down to reveal the V of his muscles. “Come on, we’ve all seen the Twitter photos...don’t pretend you haven’t read the tabloids - you know he’s worth it.” Loki flicked a strand of hair back from his eyes, throwing Tony a slow wink as a paddle for the one million bid rose tentatively in the air. Fuck, Tony. you thought, slamming your paddle down to the bar table. “Are you gonna use that?” a woman behind you mumbled inaudibly, before sliding it away. Your frantic eyes found Amanda, still seated elegantly at one of the high stools. There was something different about her tonight, you pondered; as she waited with a look of unbreakable concentration. Waiting to pounce.

There were gasps as Loki reached one arm up, the mouth-watering curve of his bicep matched only by the tight stretch in his obliques. He tilted his chin down, the coquettishly slutty pose making you realise a flood of wetness had begun pooling traitorously between your thighs. He slowly dragged the hair-tie from his messy bun, letting waves of curls fall around his collarbone. “Final bids, folks.” Tony sighed. “I don’t think Laufeyson can take off any more clothes without Steve-y boy going into cardiac arrest.” he quipped, fighting to contain laughter as he glanced at Rogers concealed off stage. Final bids. A wave of nausea rolled in your belly. Who had bid last? Was it the stockbroker, the mayor’s wife? Obama? You couldn’t tell, the mass of jostling bodies melding into one horrible sludge of jealousy. “Two million.” a clear-cut voice called over the carnage. Every head in the room turned to gape at the owner, but you didn’t even need to look. It was her. Tony released a low whistle, spinning on his heels and patting Loki on the shoulder with a commiserate shake. “Two million. No pressure, bud. Hope the royal sceptre has been resting recently.” he mumbled with feigned secrecy into the microphone. Loki chuckled, leaning over. “A veritable bargain, I assure you.” he smirked. “That’s my boy!” Tony chuckled gleefully, spinning to the front. “Two million going once…” Your eyes were wide, turning to Wanda who nudged her head frantically to the head of the room. Tackle him, it said. “Two million going twice…” - “Where’s my paddle…?” you gasped, not thinking straight, “I..fuck.” “Sold!” Tony yelled, to moans of disappointment and reluctant clapping. “To the beautiful Amanda Goldberg for two...million...dollars. Come get your prize, m’lady.”

You saw red, the room starting to spin as the applause grew louder. The flow of Amanda’s dress swirled towards the stage, a bare-chested Loki down on one knee to welcome her with a kiss on her outstretched hand. “Loki, no!” you gasped quietly– pushing the crowd to the side as you elbowed forward. His arm slid around Amanda’s shoulders, planting a lingering kiss on her cheek with a secret smile. “Loki!” you yelled, shoving the final obstacle from your path. Tony. He spluttered, waving his hands dramatically as you hopped onto the stage and took three stumbling steps to where Loki waited with hands clasped behind his back. Even in his stripped state, messy curls hanging devilishly around his chiselled features dark with the lust of baying adoration – he was a prince. Your prince. The crowd began to whisper, awkward murmurs of dissent bubbling like lava at your back. You could feel the heat of their confusion wafting against your skin as it rose in your cheeks. Loki stared unblinking, his eyes narrowing for a split second as he analysed your stricken features.

“Can I help you?” he purred innocently, drumming his fingers around Amanda’s bicep. She gave a loud, cartoonish giggle. You swallowed harshly, throat dry. Loki tilted his head, feigned-confusion painted on his ethereal features. You grasped at your clutch bag, feeling it click open with a fumble of your moist fingers. “I wanted to give you this...back.” you stuttered, arm outstretched with his ancient seal in the flat of your palm.

Loki looked at it for what felt like an eternity, before his eyes finally rose.

“Are you sure you wish to return this to me?” he murmured, arm dropping from Amanda’s shoulder. His chin was tilted to his chest, ropes of muscle flexing at his neck. The growing whispers of the crowd faded to nothing, the beat of your heart the only sound as it thudded in your ears. “No, actually.” you heard yourself say, voice trembling. Loki inhaled sharply. His chest puffed, hard abdominals clenching as he braced himself. Reluctant tears stung your eyes, fingers shaking as the heavy seal began to quiver in your outstretched hand. You tried to blink the impending flood away, glancing to the side. Steve stood behind the wings, wringing his hands with a deep frown. Your eyelids fluttered shut, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. You could hear Tony trying to clear the crowd, tempting them to the bar with the offer of free booze, before Loki’s warm breath fanned your forehead. “Then do not return it.” he said, carefully wrapping your fingers around the cool metal. His hand clasped your own, squeezing gently as he lowered to your ear. “It is yours.” he whispered. It is yours. Maybe it was the scent of him, maybe it was the heat of his naked skin so close, the warmth with which his fingers intertwined with yours, holding his sacred mark. Maybe it was the faint plead in his voice. But as your eyes rose along the carved lines of his chest and up the curve of his neck, savouring every inch – you somehow knew what you would find. Loki’s eyes shone with nervous anticipation, brows slanted upwards as he licked his bottom lip. His teeth caught the curve, pulling gently. They swam with worlds unseen and words unsaid, long lashes framing the endless chaos you had lost yourself within. Hopelessly.

A rogue tear rolled down your cheek, making you look away. “No, darling...no-” Loki murmured, confusion lacing his tone as he wiped it softly with his thumb.

He cupped your face, drawing it towards him. “Please, Loki...don’t.” you gulped, swallowing the force threatening to humiliate you in front of the whole of New York high society. He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. Tendrils of his hair grazed your cheeks, curtaining you from the crowd at your back as his fingertips slid from your jaw to your shoulders; gently at rest. “Agent, I…” he started, breath trembling. His grip tightened, a staggered exhale making his stomach clench. Three loud slaps sounded by your feet, making you jump. Loki released you with a growl, as you spun towards a very pissed-off looking Tony resting casually on the side of the stage.

“Can you guys hurry up? Trying to save this thing, here. Thanks, Laufeyson, by the way, for the added theatrics. Very amusing, as always.” he scoffed dryly, inspecting his nails. “Will you desist?” Loki hissed, crouching forward. Tony shrugged. “Better get the two mill for the orphans. That’s all I’m saying. Little Loki’s got his work cut out tonight.” “Little?!” Loki snarled indignantly, sweeping his hair back from his forehead as he rose to his full height once more.

The vein in his temple twitched, anger flashing across the sharp profile you knew so well. You grasped his bicep, feeling the tight bulge soften as his breaths steadied. Nerves twisted in your belly like acid, the room beginning to swim as you felt the moment begin to pass. Not again. You took a deep breath; “Loki, what were you going to-” The god whipped round, jaw set in a grimace as he swiped against your forearm with his own. Your hand was swept from his bicep, caught in a millisecond by the warrior grasp of his long fingers. “That I love you, you infuriating woman.” he yelled ferociously, brow furrowing as he realised he had said it aloud. You gaped, frowning as you fought lacklustre against his iron grip. Breaths quickened in your chest, panting as you looked at the abject fear beginning to creep into Loki’s eyes. The gazes of a hundred confused spectators became nothing but a blur, their mutters fading. You stilled, letting your hand become limp. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. Suddenly, you lunged towards him - hooking your free arm around his shoulders. Loki swallowed a gasp as your lips met his with force, a low sigh breathing into your mouth as he melted into you. The god’s hands travelled to your ass, hoisting you around his hips as his tongue massaged your own with wild intensity. A palm slid up your back, winding in your hair as he pushed your face roughly to his. You could hear the PG-curses of Rogers as he frantically hoisted the stage curtains closed, his inane blustering audible over the gasps of intrigue from the crowd beyond. Loki’s feral kisses had moved to your neck, the desperate adrenaline coursing through him as he devoured your soft skin in messy sucks. You found your fingers curling in his lengths, pulling his head back gently. Just like the old days, you thought with a thrill. He frowned, panting. Loki wet his lips, preparing to speak before you covered his mouth with a flat palm. “I love you too, you infuriating whatever-you-are.” you enunciated slowly, lips feeling heavy with the force of his affections. The god’s brows slanted, deep lines appearing in his forehead as he shook his head from side to side; making your hand slip away. “Truly?” he growled incredulously, peering up through ebony lashes. “Truly.” you whispered, watching a smile as radiant as an April sunrise creep slowly across his face. “What happened to ‘I know you love me, Agent’…” you coyed, impersonating the timbre of his voice as he lowered you to the ground. His arms wound around your waist, pulling you flush to his bare chest. “Knowing and feeling are two different things, Agent.” he purred, before placing a languishing kiss on your forehead. “What would be the point in your love for me...” he murmured, muffled against the skin, “if you did not believe it yourself?” There was silence as Loki’s fingertip tenderly grazed your collarbone, steady breaths rising and falling between you as he nuzzled into your temple with a low sigh. You opened your eyes over Loki’s shoulder. “Oh – shit, what about her?” you groaned, giving a small, awkward wave to Amanda several meters away. That’s weird, you thought; frowning. She’s smiling. Smiling like...

Loki’s hand rose, a click of his fingers making the emerald skirts of Amanda’s dress begin to smoulder with bright green flame. “My brother owed me quite a few favours, Agent…” he murmured apologetically with a smile against your cheek.

Your eyes widened as a bulky frame peeled into view behind the mirage of Loki’s magic. But the grin – the grin was still the same. Thor flicked his hair, running his palms down his torso. “That’s better.” he rumbled, throwing you a wink. “Sorry about that…” he chuckled. “Motivation was required, apparently.” He folded his meaty forearms. “I still think you’re mad for being in love with him, by the way. But there’s no accounting for taste.” “You better not have started another Oath of Most Ass-yoor-red Recompense scenario.” you muttered dryly to your dark-haired lover, making another smile stretch across his face. He pulled you tight. “No, darling. This was purely fraternal reparations. Isn’t that right, brother?” he growled. “I have been reliably informed that I have been, what you call, a dick-head.” Thor grumbled penitently, scuffing his foot on the floor. “Indeed.” Loki hummed coldly, before his voice softened. “But tonight has gone some way to mending said wrongdoings. Along with your agreed donation to the orphan-fund, naturally.” “Naturally.” Thor grumbled, averting his eyes. Loki’s fingers toyed with the shell of your ear, the tips exploring the angle of your jaw lightly as if for the first time. “I believe that we should..talk? As is the custom I believe? If you’ll permit it.” You nodded, giddy disbelief still coursing through your veins. “As long as it’s not in this fucking ballroom.” you scoffed, before squealing as Loki gathered you effortlessly against his chest bridal style. “Gods, no.” Loki purred, capturing your lips in a wet kiss before his tantalisingly moist lips grazed your ear. “I think it’s time you finally saw my chambers, Agent -don’t you?”

Continued in Final Bids: Love Wins Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

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vitaminseetarot · 3 months

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PAC (Pick-A-Candy): February's Message For You ❄🕯

Hey y'all, welcome back! Thank you so much for playing in my first tarot game. I'm so glad to have the chance to reach out to everyone for inquiries. Thank you so much for your feedback as well! I'm still reading through your responses and feel grateful for all the positivity. There have been a lot of delays throughout this month and I haven't had as much time as I'd like to be on here in January, but I'm itching to pick up the pace in February. I'm planning another game in early March, topic to be announced, so stay tuned.

I wanted to start this month with a short and sweet pick a card reading to give you advice. For anyone celebrating this time of year, may you enjoy this time of peace and recovery and maybe some really tasty snacks with hot cocoa too. Pick whatever chocolate below looks most appealing to you. ❄🕯

Pile 1: Bronze Toffee Nut Pile 2: Silver Milk Chocolate Pile 3: Gold Dark Almond

Pile 1: Bronze Toffee Nut

Land:Tree:Sun, King of Mechanisms: Heliacal Chronograph, 26 Duality, King of Swords, XII Hanged Man, XV Devil, 7 of Swords, 7 of Wands

Hey, you! Did you recently complete something big or reach a major milestone in your life? If so, congratulations! Your efforts are paying off, if not now then over time they will show. But first, before doing or planning anything else, you need to sit down for a little while and just… breathe. Breathe deep. Replenish your mind from harrying so much over all that you have had to, have to, or will have to do (that was a mouthful, so I can't imagine how much clutter that is in the brain! Also I channeled the word "harrying" which I never use and had to look it up lol, but the word definitely still fits). Now is not the time to push, but a time to breathe and reflect.

You're in a time of transition, and this could mean many things. It could be a move or a job transfer, or you're thinking of how to change your way of living. I'm feeling that many in this pile are still actively working towards their New Years resolutions. Some in this pile may have had a very busy year, while others here wish to shift gears and become focused on doing more, a lot more than last year. Are you trying to make up for lost time? It's only February, pile one, so you have way more time than it seems to get things straightened out or set into motion. You're not creating a time debt by using your break or time off to actually self soothe, like most people do. Your tenacity is admirable, but in terms of self development, too much push to get things done might set you back.

You must balance between resting and recovery, all while strategically planning for your next course of action. Some of you may be struggling to get organized, but making schedules and lists could help immensely, so you're not spending as much energy trying to remember everything. There are also apps that are designed to help you stay on track, giving you more time to just hang out and be. There is nothing wrong with spending this entire month on decompressing from everything you've had to do. It's not going to happen when you're working on something else. That's a distraction, not progress, to work as a way of avoiding healing. However you decide to relax, make sure it actually involves relaxation. If that means laying in bed and watching TV for the day, then that's what it means. If you relax more by doing a chore, then make it something simple to complete like folding clothes.

Don't feel guilty for taking time off, but don't let the time slip by either. Schedule "Don't-Do-Much" days and see what kind of difference it makes to your productivity and routine over time. Think of this transition as an intermission of sorts. This is your chance to get up, use the restroom, order more popcorn, text a friend, etc. before getting back to your movie. You can choose not to get up, but once the intermission has passed, the movie will not pause for you. So use this opportunity to rest with intention, knowing that when change comes to thrust you into the next phase of life, it may do so unexpectedly fast and you'll be more ready for it.

Keep your ambitions lit up, because even as you rest, those dreams are still at work. Don't think that time off means abandoning any plans or being lazy. It's a matter of decluttering your mind space so you can actually focus on the next thing better, and you can't drain the brain of all your pain if you replace worry with more worry. Life is more than a series of boxes to tick off, saying "what's next? what's next? huh? what's next? HUH??" right after each one is done. If life worked that way, sleep wouldn't be a thing, and likely neither would we, because how can anything sustain that gogogo fever forever? Protect your right to self care, and don't let anyone tell you it's wrong to take time out just for you.

Pile 2: Silver Milk Chocolate

Spiritual, 7 of Prisms: Flux Tempest, 19 Unlimited Possibilities, King of Cups Rx, 2 of Pentacles, I Magician, 9 of Cups, Page of Wands

You may feel overwhelmed right now, like a lot of changes are happening at once, or could happen imminently. Things may feel topsy-turvy, and it's a struggle just to get through the day to day with all this weighing on your mind. There could be different options to choose from or a lot of emotionally heavy decisions that could be leaving you feeling a bit straggled. It could be a decision to undergo a kind of treatment, or many job offers suddenly come to you, and rather than feeling elated for the opportunities, you're feeling anxious about what to do more than anything.

Many opportunities and risks abound, and although it isn't easy, it's important to spend some time to figure out what you wish to do. We all want to make the best choices in life, but sometimes life involves a good deal of trial and error and retrial no matter how logical and sensible we try to make things behave. A lot of important details can get swept away in the rush to resolve a conflict as quickly and easily as possible. Even when the best choice is made, things can still happen. Life can be pretty random and chaotic at times, in ways not even shuffled cards can keep up with. It's not so much the choosing, but staying committed to the choice, that can be most difficult.

It's time to go within and listen to spirit for guidance. You need some time and space in order to feel this out, not just think it through. Our mind can work all day scoping out each and every pro and con, and that's where meditation comes in. Let the answers flow towards you naturally. When you can embrace the change to come from this choice, rather than fearing it, the way will light up for you and it'll be smoother sailing from here. The seasons will change no matter how long this time out will take for you, but one spring passed means another spring will eventually come again. If it doesn't work out the first time, there will always come another.

You have a heightened ability to manifest your desired outcome this month, and you may find that some things will naturally fall into place as soon as your mind is made up and you let go. Yes, anything can happen, but that also includes good things, it even includes things you have deeply wished for. Envision the best possible outcome first and don't get caught in too many details about how it should play out. We can trick ourselves into thinking that by assuming the worst, we can prepare for the worst. Instead, prepare for the best case scenario for you and you'll be surprised at how much easier it gets to sift out and manage challenges when they do show up.

Keep your mind steady and heart focused on what you want. Remain in a space of enthusiasm for what you'd like to happen. The page of wands is very eager, it's like they have the energy of a little kid pointing to a famous performer on stage and going, "that'll be ME someday!" Not "that could be me" or "ah, if only that could be me," but "that WILL be me." Think of your motivation as a fire that must be tended to on a regular basis. No matter how small or large the flame in your heart is, it will be the light that guides you into making the best decision for yourself. Take good care of it.

Pile 3: Gold Dark Almond

Land:Animal:Moon, Macroscoria, 10 Burden, King of Cups, VIII Strength, King of Pentacles, Knight of Cups, II High Priestess

Your sensitivity and overall empathic ability is high right now. There may be an inclination to feel a heightened sense of compassion for others, particularly animals (you have a lot of animals present in your spread, and Animal:Moon talks about those kind of connections in particular). Animal companions want to help you out this month, whether on the physical or astral plane, so turn to them for healing just as they would turn to you.

Create solid psychic boundaries to protect your mind. A lot of intense psychic energy could be purged through with the Macroscoria card. I'm almost reminded of what's it like to delve through Akashic records (or as I call it the Hall of All Knowledge), but this is a more universal, primal energy coming through? The card reminds me of Earth in its early stages when it was all still molten and predominated by immense fiery tectonic activity, fundamental forces bursting from beneath. Instincts can seem basic, but they're powerful. This energy could be coming from within you most likely, but you could be picking up on others' chaotic moods as well. This isn't a force to fight, but to work in your favor. Anger for example isn't wrong, but there's a right and a wrong way of expressing anger. It's a matter of channeling it into a proper medium.

If you were drawn to pile 2, there may be a message for you there as well, as the King of Cups is in the same position. There's an emphasis on being able to stay present with others with deep compassion while staying emotionally detached. Detachment is not the same as not caring, it's a state that allows you to embody what another is feeling and give them space to feel without losing yourself in it. Try to adopt an observational approach. When you are in a state of experiencing intense emotions, we can also practice the art of "stepping aside" to observe ourselves and learn from these feelings instead of pushing them away.

You and others must remain resilient, as you could be undergoing a challenging time. Don't push the limit though. Lend a helping hand when needed, but remember that you too deserve that same compassion in return. Whatever this challenge is, there is a potential for growth to come from this. This month could bring in a special reward for you, what that is isn't clear but your good efforts won't go unnoticed. It may feel difficult now, but when things start to improve, you'll innately know, and the payoff could be rather big, or more than what you expected. You may feel that many could be leaning on you now for support, but trust that whatever support you provide will in turn be granted back to you.

Observation doesn't mean apathy or overanalysis. It's about sitting and being present with what's happening around you and within you. Mindfulness exercises could help you out a lot this February, along with writing down your nightly dreams or even making a vent journal to scribble out frustrations. Make sure your emotions don't stay bottled or contained or they could burst. Instead, check in every day and find one thing that will help vent out those emotions. Your intuition is your best friend now.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

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catgirl-kaiju · 4 months

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Here's some art I've made for intermission clocks I made for some movie nights I run with friends :3

background for main and 1920s versions was a stock photo.

background for halloween cards were art created by Alex Monge, found as a high res wallpaper.

the xmas cards were the first time i'd gone for a watercolor look, and i'm very happy with how it came out!

#my art #furry art #furry #halloween #xmas #holidays #movie nights #digital art #intermission #witch #movies

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suspiciouslackofclowns · 1 year

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Billy tries to be as quiet and inconspicuous as possible when he enters the living room, easing down into a seat on the sofa with a plate packed full of finger food in his hands.

He's been steadily picking at the spread in the kitchen all afternoon — he isn't even really hungry anymore, but it's at least something to keep him occupied. He tries not to think about how he's eating out of boredom as he pops a mini quiche in his mouth.

As if having a sixth sense, Eddie turns around in his seat on the floor. Spreads a smile and crawls toward the sofa, leaning his elbows in Billy’s lap as he gazes up at him like he’s some ethereal being.

“Hey, blondie,” he lilts. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Billy snorts.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing your game?”

“We’re having an intermission,” Eddie huffs. Leans further into Billy’s lap and wraps his arms around his waist. “Besides, I miss you.”

“Miss me? Munson, we sleep in the same bed every night.”

“And?”

“And you’re a fuckin’ dork,” Billy chuckles.

Eddie pouts. Hides his face in the front of Billy’s hoodie, and the blond has to fight every urge he has to suck his stomach in, lest Eddie pout even harder.

It’s taken some getting used to, the changes in his body. Especially after he quit smoking.

Had he known he would develop a permanent case of the munchies, he might’ve just stayed his course. Maybe he’d still have abs.

Maybe he’d still feel sexy.

Regardless, here Eddie is, smushing his face into his stomach like he’s a pillow. Billy takes a bite out of a chocolate-covered strawberry and sets his plate on the brunet’s back. Eddie doesn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, well, you’re gorgeous,” Eddie says like it’s an insult. “And smart, and sweet, and funny, and—“

“Jesus, I get it, you like me. You can stop now.”

Eddie shakes his head. Presses a kiss to Billy’s stomach, which has the blond’s face blossoming red, and rubs up and down at his sides.

“I adore you. Wanna snuggle with you all day everyday and never do anything else.”

“Not even play D&D?”

“Nope.”

From behind him, Grant and Jeff both scoff, and Billy spreads a smile. Cards his hand through Eddie’s hair.

“I don’t think the guys like that idea.”

“Tough shit. How am I expected to function when you come in here looking all pretty ‘n stuff?”

Billy chuckles. Eddie grins at the sound.

“I’m wearing pajamas,” Billy points out. “And my hair’s not even done.”

“I know,” Eddie sighs dreamily.

“Mm, well, if you’re cuddling me all the time, when does my other boyfriend get a chance? Doesn’t sound very fair to me.”

“I don’t see this other boyfriend that you speak of. Plus, I’m calling dibs for the rest of time, so he’s outta luck.”

“You’re telling me you’re never gonna cuddle with Stevie again? Just me, forever?”

Eddie ponders the question for a long moment, and Billy chuckles again.

“Damn,” he muses. “You really do like me that much, huh?”

“I do,” Eddie admits. “I would miss being Stevie’s little spoon, though.”

Gareth snorts, clapping his hand on the coffee table.

“Wait, you’re the little spoon? Big bad Munson is Steve Harrington’s little spoon,” he cackles. “That’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

Billy grabs his plate again just in time for Eddie to sit up and swivel around enough to cast a glare at his friend. It makes Gareth laugh even harder.

“Dude, you’ve literally heard me call him my princess and shit before, but you’re choosing to make fun of me over this?”

“I always thought that was you poking fun at his masculinity or something.”

Eddie shakes his head and clicks his tongue.

“Stevie is my pretty princess,” he lilts. Glances up at Billy and chews his lip. “And Billy bear is my little babycakes. He’s the baby, actually.”

Billy’s face flushes red all the way down his neck.

“I am not,” he huffs.

“Yes huh, you’re baby girl, baby doll— you love that shit. We wouldn’t say any of it if you didn’t.”

There’s a polite chuckle from around the room and Billy scoffs.

Eddie notably softens. He rubs at Billy’s thighs, leaning forward to press another kiss to his stomach and humming pleasantly when his lips make contact.

“The nicknames just mean that we love you,” he coos.

“Guess I just think you both have weird taste,” Billy murmurs, then huffs a laugh to himself. “If I nicknamed myself, it’d probably be something like lardass.”

Eddie makes a shocked noise of offense and furrows his brows.

“Hey, no one talks about my boyfriend like that.”

“No? What’re you gonna do about it?”

“I’m gonna tell on you.” Billy’s smirk falters and Eddie hums triumphantly. “I’m gonna tell Steve. He’ll baby you about it and pull out some old family recipe he’s got locked away just to make you eat your words.”

Billy presses his lips together. Thinks about the last time he made a self-deprecating comment in front of Steve. Thinks about how it was definitely a handful of pounds ago.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

He pushes his fingers into Eddie’s hair. The brunet leans into his touch, but spreads this sickening little grin. All teeth and no remorse.

“Then I guess you better take it back,” he lilts. Billy locks his jaw shut. Eddie clicks his tongue and pokes teasingly at his side. “There’s no downside for me, I like a little extra fluff. Nobody likes thin pancakes.”

“Pancakes?”

“Mhmm,” Eddie hums. “You’re like a stack of ‘em.”

Billy quirks a brow.

“How so?”

“I fuckin’ love pancakes.” Eddie flattens his palm against Billy’s side and rubs gently back and forth. “Plus, y’know, they’re soft and warm. Pillow-like.”

A little smile quirks at the corners of Billy’s mouth. Some part of him wants to take offense, but he can’t. Not when big brown eyes are gazing up at him so fondly. He scratches softly at Eddie’s scalp and has him all but purring, eyes slipping shut as he melts under the touch.

“You’ve never had crêpes?” Billy asks.

Eddie’s eyes crack open.

“What?”

“Crêpes,” Billy repeats. Chuckles when Eddie looks at him like he’s growing a second head. “Thin pancakes? They’re Stevie’s favorite, I’m surprised you didn’t notice. He always orders them when we go to the diner downtown.”

Eddie sits up straighter. Thinks hard for a moment, like his whole world is crashing down.

“Is that what those things are?”

“What did you think they were?”

“I dunno— not pancakes.” Eddie pouts when he’s laughed at, but still fixes Billy with a serious look. “Brushing past the fact that you just ruined my whole analogy, I maintain that you’re perfect just the way you are.” That little grin comes back full-fledged in a matter of seconds. “Besides, crêpes always have filling, don’t they?”

It’s Billy’s turn to pout while Eddie snickers at him.

“Whatever. Just don’t tell Steve.”

“Why, you scared he’s gonna put pounds on you?” Eddie pinches his side and earns a huff. “You still haven’t taken back what you said.”

“‘Cause I don’t want to. Don’t see why you’re so hung up on it.”

This time, Eddie looks… disappointed. It hurts Billy deep in his chest, like he swallowed a shard of tortilla chip that refuses to go down smoothly.

“If someone was talking shit about Steve right in front of you, what would you do?” Eddie asks.

“I’d rock their shit.”

“Why?”

Billy shrugs.

“I dunno, it’d piss me off.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it’s Steve,” Billy huffs. “I don’t— I don’t like the idea of anyone talking shit about him. That’s my boyfriend.”

Eddie nods. Tilts his head to the side and slowly begins to rub up and down at Billy’s waist, similar to how he had been earlier.

“Then why is this any different? I still get to be upset when I hear someone talking shit about you, even if it’s you who’s doing the shit-talking.”

Billy’s mouth opens, but then promptly closes again. Is this the same guy who was comparing him to pancakes a minute ago?

A moment passes. Then another. Eddie just stares up at him expectantly, and Billy says nothing. It’s a stand-off. A battle of will. Billy’s fixing to cave when the front door opens and the tension is suddenly broken, yet somehow doubles at the same time.

“Intermission?” Steve asks.

He hangs his keys up and shrugs out of his coat once the door is shut behind him, already wearing an easy smile.

“Unofficially,” Gareth grumbles.

Eddie shoots him a glare, but is quick to soften when Steve leans over the back of the sofa and drapes his arms around Billy’s shoulders.

“Hey, baby,” Steve greets. Ignores the knowing giggle from around the room in favor of pressing a kiss into Billy’s curls. “Thought you’d still be asleep when I got back.”

More kisses land in his hair as Billy purses his lips.

“It’s almost six.”

“Mhmm,” Steve hums.

In an instant, Eddie gets this look on his face, and Billy’s stomach drops. He opens his mouth, but Steve is too quick.

“Have you just been eating junk?” He asks, gesturing to Billy’s plate.

The blond glances at his little collection of nibbled-at finger food. Tries not to think about how many plates of it he’s had already.

“Yeah, just… snacking,” he says timidly.

Steve tsks. Billy almost flinches at the sound.

“Well, that won’t do.” Steve nabs the plate from Billy’s hand and pops a cube of cheddar in his mouth. “Tell me what you want, bubs, and I’ll make it.”

Billy feels like he’s on fire.

“Lasagna?”

A sheepish smile finds its way onto his face when his chin is tilted up, and Steve plants a kiss directly on his lips.

“Coming right up.”

Then the brunet vanishes from behind the couch, padding into the kitchen to root around for a casserole dish before he’s even taken his shoes off.

On the floor, Eddie bites back on a giggle.

“I didn’t even have to tell him,” he whispers amusedly. Leans completely into Billy’s lap and hugs his torso again, half smothering himself in Billy’s stomach. “Hope you’re hungry, Bill, ‘cause it’s pancake time.”

For emphasis, he gives Billy’s side a squeeze, which has him huffing irritatedly.

“No, we’re having lasagna,” Steve calls. There’s a clatter as he moves about the kitchen. “We can have pancakes tomorrow night.”

Eddie gives in to the giggles, shoulders shaking as he hides his face in the front of Billy’s hoodie.

Finally accepting defeat, Billy sighs. Cards his fingers through Eddie’s hair while he laughs, trying to find it in himself to be upset about what’s to come.

But his mouth is already watering before the oven is even done preheating.

#harringroveson #billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #background corroded coffin guys #chubby billy hargrove #fluff #tw weight #tw insecurity #body image #internalized fatphobia #Billy is so Garfield coded #hey look at that Steve is actually IN a harringroveson fic of mine #weird right?#ficlet #my wriitng #mostly unedited #soon to be on ao3 when I have time

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