#Ray being absolutely shameless | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mvffy0 · 3 months

Note

To make up for your latest post that had angst with no comfort, i think i want more 😁

high school! reader being a menace and trying to always get nanami’s attention but he’s great at rejecting her

you ask, you shall receive‼️

“In our garden where love blooms”

Highschool! Nanami Kento x reader

word count: 4456

i actually hate the way i wrote this BUT i couldnt leave u empty handed 😕🫶🏻

.·:*¨༺🪷༻¨*:·.

You had decided that today was absolutely perfect. The midnight showers left shiny dewdrops on every surface, and the air smelled of fresh earth and life. The wind blew softly, tousling your hair and whispering promises of continued good weather. The sun casts gentle rays through the booming clouds, illuminating your joyful face. Porcelain clouds float aimlessly above, casting fluffy shadows on the looming school before you. You take in a sharp breath of air as you walk through the Jujutsu school grounds, equipped with a beautiful handpicked bouquet rivalling those professionally made. happily humming a tune, you quicken your pace. Today was definitely the perfect day to confess. What could go wrong?

“Marry me, Kento!” you exclaimed, holding the bouquet up to his face.

“No” Nanami states flatly, accepting the flowers but deadpanning at your shamelessness. This was, what? The 5th confession this week? He had no clue why you were so adamant despite the countless rejections. He wishes you would stop, not out of irritation but for both his sake and yours. He doesn’t enjoy rejecting you, but relationships in the world of jujutsu are never a clever idea.

“C’mon Ken! just one date? I promise it’ll be worth your while.”

And then there was that nickname. Ken. Clueless as to why you keep calling him that and tired from trying to decipher your antics, he coolly brushes you off and continues his walk to class.

Only to hear the sound of light jogging growing louder behind him, later to be met with your voice whispering in his ear.

“Where are you headed off to, Ken?”

He hates that your sudden close proximity made his heart swell.

“Class. As should you.” He replies curtly, quickening his pace in an attempt to lose you. Instead, you eagerly tail behind him, a large grin on your face. He sighs inwardly. Poor Kento could feel a migraine coming on.

He walked faster, missing the dejected look on your face, and eventually met up with Haibara to walk to class together.

Namami made a vow to always keep things short and to the point with you. God knows what type of ideas you would get if he engaged in real conversation with you.

He would never say it aloud, but had you both been normal people and under completely different circumstances, he would have accepted your confession the first time. He did like you, after all. but you didn’t need to know that.

•••

He solemnly recalls his first encounter with you earlier that year. You had just transferred to the esteemed Tokyo Jujutsu High School and had decided to come earlier than necessary to “scope out the scene” (your words, not his). On a weekend, to be exact, when you (again,in your own words when retelling the story to Haibara and Kento) knew your soon-to-be classmates would be lazing around and wasting time.

He remembers you scaring them and somehow manipulating yu into dragging you around campus all day. Kento remembers everything from that day, from the way your hair bounced as you excitedly ran with yu to your next location, down to every last detail of the outfit you wore. What he remembered most of all, however, was the staring. During your first encounter, you could not keep your eyes off him for reasons he (at the time) could not fathom. Though he would never admit it, during your first interaction, you’d managed to catch his attention as well. He thought you were quite beautiful, and it confused him to no end why someone like him piqued your interest. That day ended faster than he would have liked, and despite his best efforts to conceal the way he felt, yu could tell you piqued Kento's interest as well. Too bad Nanami didn't know you were going to be a constant thorn in his side come your official enrollment at that school.

•••

You dreamily recall your first encounter with Kento at the start of your school year. You had to admit, you were a bit nervous going into a school completely based on sorcery. not because you would struggle, as your cursed technique allowed you to create a number of portals that double as storage with the ability to appear anywhere, making combat quite easy. You were nervous about the social aspect, having never interacted with other sorcerers before. So, since it was a live-in school, after checking in with your higher-ups and getting the green light, you decided to visit on a weekend to familiarize yourself with the campus and some of the students.

An entire hour had passed, and you continued to walk, exasperated. Just how big was this campus? And where were the students?? All the nerves had long diminished from your body, leaving only the feeling of mild annoyance. ‘Whatever’ you thought, ‘Im bound to meet someone eventually’

While wandering aimlessly, you happened upon one of the main buildings, only to spot two boys walking in an open hallway, their stark contrast beckoning you closer. One seemed to be bouncing off the walls with joy, talking loudly with a huge grin plastered on his face, his large, doe-like eyes only adding to his loud appearance. You couldn’t get a good look at the other as he walked with his body turned towards their friend. You noticed their uniforms, quietly cheering that you had finally found students who looked to be around your age.

You chuckled quietly, deciding it would be fun to mess with them after having nothing to do for hours. Using your technique to open a portal directly above the two, you entered it, laughing to yourself.

“BOO!” you shouted, nothing but your torso hanging down from the ceiling.

The one with the doe eyes screamed, clinging to his companion and looking at you frantically, the companion in question not so much as flinching. You giggled, still upside down from the ceiling, and outstretched your hand in greeting towards the boys.

“Im (name), I'll be joining you guys soon. Nice to meet you!�� You offered a sympathetic grin to the boy you scared, asking for his name. You were no longer using your technique and were now standing in front of the two.

wait. pause.

You hadn’t looked at the two properly before, courtesy of one, being upside down and two, being too preoccupied scaring the pair of boys. So you didn't blame yourself for not realizing sooner that one of them was drop. dead. gorgeous! Your eyes flitted over his figure, taking in every enticing detail. the way his parted blonde hair fell over his face, how his pine-green eyes narrowed in annoyance at you, how he clenched his jaw slightly, how his clothes hung loosely on his tall frame yet hugged him in all the right places, and was that an ear piercing?? His never-ending, seemingly effortless beauty astonished you. He could tell you were staring, you realized, and with an irritated click of his tongue, you were snapped out of your daze. Straightening your posture, you nervously shifted your legs under his gaze. God, why hadn't you just walked over like a normal person?!

“Yu Haibara!” The brown-haired one answered your earlier quip energetically, having regained his composure in the short time you spent ogling the ethereal man before you. “And this is Kento Nanami!” The boy being referred to did nothing but scoff. Resisting the urge to squeel excitedly, in that moment, was taking every ounce of your power. Even his name was attractive! You were totally and utterly infatuated with this boy. How could you not be? Call it cliché, but it was literally love at first sight. He possessed beauty rivalling that of an intricately sculpted Greek statue. No, scratch that—a Greek god.

“We’re the only other first-years! Nice to meet you!” Haibara declared and swiftly interrupted your thoughts

He took his hand in yours, shaking it firmly before you could fully process what he said, too heavily occupied with staring owlishly at Nanami.

Cue Haibara and Kento (mainly Haibara) showing you around until the sun set and you decided it was time to head home. You went to sleep giddy that night, making it your goal from then on to bag yu's beautiful best friend.

That was months ago, and you were currently in your room, hugging your pillow absentmindedly and sulking. You sighed, recalling Nanami's rejection that morning on his way to class. It had been your 5th one this week (he probably wasn't counting); how had none of them been accepted? especially since this one was so flawlessly planned. In your opinion, it was complete and utter perfection. He took the flowers, at least, but you’ve realized he takes all of your gifts out of respect. What was Kento, if not a gentleman? You took a long inhale, got up, and left your quarters to embark on a stroll to the one spot you claimed earlier in the year, deciding it was no use getting hung up on rejection. It was only a matter of time before he said yes.

•••

Grabbing a small vase and filling it up with water, Kento gently placed your flowers in the glass and set it on his desk. Noticing there was a note in the wrapping, he read it over, his ears flushing completely. You expressed your love for him so openly and so deeply that, at times, it hurt him to reject you so harshly. A small part of him enjoyed the attention he received from you, however, this was a secret he’d whisper to nobody but himself. Nanami really wished you two had met under different circumstances, where the looming promise of death by curse had not been a concrete wall blocking him from entertaining your romantic advances. He opened his small cabinet dedicated to the several trinkets you’ve gifted him and carefully placed the note inside. He’d just have to get over his silly crush, for your sake and for his. What better way to take your mind off of something than a walk?

•••

“oh! you’re here..”

“….”

It was late afternoon when you decided to take a walk; however, you had been out for a while, and the sun was now setting. You stood in front of Nanami, mere feet away, feeling anxious. He was the one thing you were trying not to think about on your walk, and seeing him made your face flush. You should probably leave before you say something that’ll make this awkward. you’ve reached your confession limit for the week; maybe you’ll get lucky come next Monday. spinning on your heel in a desperate attempt to flee, you were stopped by the sound of Kento's deep, gentle voice, hoarse from hours of unuse.

“Would you like to join me?” He asked slowly, looking off to the side, unable to meet your gaze. If he had looked, he would have been met with a baffled expression, pure confusion evident in your features. Ken?? Wanted to go on a walk?? with YOU?

“C-can you repeat that?” You spluttered, dumbfounded. There is simply no way Nanami would willingly spend time with you one-on-one. Sure, you were friends, but you only hung out with him in groups consisting of yu and the second-years. never alone.

“Nevermind.” Now it was his turn to flee, as he spun on his heel and started to walk away, his ears hot. Did he seriously just do that? Since when did he start making irrational decisions?

you grinned. His bashful actions only answered your doubts. It was nice seeing Nanami ask you something for once, even more so because he was flustered.

You quickly caught up to him,grinning as an idea formed in your head. “C’mon, I have something I want to show you!” You exclaimed, swiftly grabbing his hand and dragging him along. He let out a yelp, his ears burning with the heat of a thousand suns. He really hopes you don't turn around right now; he’d hate for you to get any ideas from his expression. Then again, he had been the one who asked you, even if it had been a spur-of-the moment decision. and he definitely didn't mind the way your delicate hands tightly grasped his as you ran with him through the fields, laughing as the wind blew in your hair. Biting back a smile, he studied what he could from his view behind you. God, you were beautiful. He just wished he could tell you.

“We’re here! What do you think?”

Nanami’s body betrayed him, with a gasp spilling out of his parted lips. You had taken him to a small clearing behind one of the many unused buildings littering the Jujutsu High School campus. It sported what seemed to be hundreds of different flowers of every kind and colour, a small koi pond dead in the centre. Two boulders sat in front of the pond, acting as chairs. You pulled him towards them and sat down, signalling for him to do the same. Fireflies flitted around the scenery, offering a tender glow to the breathtaking scene. Who knew his school had something like this?

“I like to come here to think,” you started, interrupting Kento's train of thought, “or just to get away. This world of sorcery can just be a bit... too much sometimes, you know?” You paused, gazing at your friend through thick lashes. He nodded in reply, staring at you intently. The moon was high in the vast midnight sky, with stars painted endlessly across it. The light from above cast an ethereal glow on Nanami. He truly did look like an angel, and just like a real one, he was incredibly hard to reach. Ken was so close, yet always, no matter how hard you tried, he was entire worlds away. You hated it. Why couldn't he see that you loved him? The fact that he was worlds away held no significance. You would gladly travel past worlds on a journey to the ends of the universe if it meant Ken would accept you. You couldn't help it anymore. You couldn't wait until next week to try and confess again. curse you for ruining such a tender moment.

“Ken...” you began, halting only to bring his hands closer to yours. He never made an effort to let go, only fueling your confidence and driving you forward.

Your determined eyes met his wide ones. He knew what was coming, and it pained him all the same.

“I really do like you, you know? and I already know what you’re going to say, but even so, I can't help myself. You're the one who makes my dull days full of life and gives them meaning. This terrible world of jujutsu is a little more bearable thanks to you.” You looked at him, eyes soft and your face beaming. His breath hitched. “I’ve got eyes for nobody but you, Kento." You finished, lifting your intertwined hands and placing a light kiss on the back of his hand.

Oh god, you have done it now. Nanami had no idea what to say or how to reply. It wasn’t unusual for you to confess out of the blue, but this?? Out of every confession he received from you, this had to be the most heartfelt. No, he thought, he needed to prioritize his morals and preserve the future. Relationships and sorcery do not. mix.

But how could he turn you away when you had practically cut your soul open and revealed all of its contents to the boy? You had poured your heart out, and he could tell that a rejection now would ruin things far worse than future heartache could.

His mind was going haywire; there was no coherent thought in his mind when suddenly he could feel his free hand cup the side of your face, and before he knew it, your lips were locked and parted just as fast. It had been a short, sweet kiss—a cushion for the upcoming disappointment of his next words. It was now Kento's turn to pour his heart out.

You were still processing the kiss when your name slipping from Nanami's tongue caught your attention. You faced him, starstruck and in utter shock, unable to think coherently. Had he, did he just??? huh? what? Had he liked you this entire time? Or did he kiss you because it felt right? You had no way of explaining the events that had just transpired, and trying to decipher them was short-circuiting your brain.

A deep voice uttering your name once more broke you from your stupor, gaining your attention.

“You are aware that we are both Jujutsu sorcerers, correct?”

“Yeah, what about it?” you asked, confused.

He suddenly took both your hands in his, shooting you a sullen expression.

“In our line of work, death is the most common and expected outcome. no matter how strong you are or how much you try to prevent it. A jujutsu sorcerer’s destiny is to die. Whether it is on a mission or from their own insanity, something is guaranteed to go wrong. I cannot possibly enter a relationship knowing that one of us will be heartbroken, and in the end, it will be either of us alone while the other is 6 feet under.”

there. He said it. the words he had been wanting to say since the day you first proclaimed your love. He was simply stating the truth in order to prevent a future disaster. So why did you look so dejected? And why did it make his heart throb?

“I value you more than you could ever know,” Kento started in an attempt to salvage the situation, “and...had we met under different circumstances, I would have accepted your confession the first time. and every one after that, if it meant I got to hear that you love me as much as I do you. but you understand that this isn't a good decision if we both get hurt in the end.” He concluded, his hands dropping to his sides as he stood up to leave. You grabbed him, standing up, a distressed look on your face.

“Can’t we try, Kento?”

You were pleading with him now. His heart clenched, and he could feel a lump forming in his throat.

“It would be foolish to even entertain that idea. Im sorry.” And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the garden where you had poured out your soul and let him feast on its contents. What was the point of preventing future heartbreak when you were already devastated? Sure, he admitted he liked you as much as you did him, but it was all for naught if you could not be together. You wiped away tears you hadn’t realized rolled down your cheeks and made the trek back to your room, eager to sink into bed and just forget about the whole thing.

•••

As it turns out, you can't just “forget” such a traumatic situation. not when you’re in such close proximity almost every hour of the day with the one person involved.

It had been two weeks since that fateful night (unbeknownst to Haibara), and yu noticed the growing tensions between you and Nanami. He decided to brush it off; you two were probably dating in secret, he concluded. You’d tell him eventually. It would definitely explain why your weekly confessions seemed to have stopped as well, something even the second years noticed. Gojo teased you endlessly about it after he realized it, but stopped after getting scolded by an angry suguru and a disappointed shoko, both insanely tired of his antics. Yep, you two were probably just dating. He was happy for you two, truly. He’d have to ask about it after his mission. Speaking of, it seemed just about time. He got up abruptly, announced his departure, and scurried off to complete his task.

•••

shit

shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

This can’t be real, right?

Your thoughts were all over, and your mind scrambled. It had been said that yu had been sent on a particularly nasty mission. It had been said that the curse was special-grade and was falsely graded. It had been said that it was far too difficult an exorcism for Haibara, who was a mere second-grade. It had been said that Haibara suffered multiple severe injuries, including a fatal blow to the head. It had been said that yu was dead.

You rushed to the lower levels of the main schoolhouse, past the nurse's office, all the way down to the morgue. You stopped at the doorframe. Kento was already there, his steely, watery eyes narrowed, his sharp jaw tight, and his fists clenched at his sides. A body covered by a thin white cloth was lying on the table directly in front of him. That was all the conformation you needed, and you had already begun shedding tears before you reached the table. There you had seen yu, battered, bloody, cold, dead. It wasn't long before your crying had become wailing, and you were rushed out of the room. Shoko had come to comfort you, and so had Suguru, but both had left after you had calmed down. Now it was just you and Nanami, stranded in the cold hallway outside the morgue. You didn't dare look at him, afraid he would see that you'd realized he was right, in a way. You and Nanami would eventually suffer the same fate as Haibara, whether it be a few or many years from now. But in your opinion, wasn’t that more reason to be together? to cherish the moments you can? to create memories that would otherwise not exist had you not taken your chance?

“Kento…” You said his name quietly. He was already aware of what you would say. He couldn’t handle this. not now

“Don't,” he said sharply, clenching his teeth.

“Ken, we only have each other-“

“I said dont.” he said, evidently louder than before.

“Don't you see? This is what happens to all sorcerers. THIS is what's going to happen to us. All of us! Do you really want that to happen? Do you want to end up like Haibara?”

Nanami didn't know when he had grabbed your arms, why he was squeezing so tight, or that there were tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“It would be a waste not to be together before we end up like yu” you said, wincing from his grip but still standing tall.

“Kento, you cannot decide not to live just because you are inevitably going to die. its foolish.”

He lets go of you and looks at you, a hard expression planted on his sunken features. You had never seen him so serious before, and his expression sent a chill straight down your spine.

“To walk into heartbreak blindly is the real foolish choice. I would rather die alone like yu than die while I'm with you.”

God, that came out completely wrong, but he was too angry and devastated to correct himself. Your shocked expression and glossy eyes were the last thing he saw before you fled from the morgue hallway, not wanting him to witness you cry. not wanting him to see that he’d won.

Your legs pumped long and hard, seemingly on autopilot, before they took you to your spot. You sat by the pond, watching the koi swim gracefully, sobbing until your heart was full, then empty, then full, then empty again.

It was now dark out; long gone were the tears that occupied your earlier hours. It must have been almost half the day since you came here. Just as you were making your mind up to leave, you heard footsteps behind you, and your name falling from his gracious lips.

•••

Kento was already in his room, anger surging through his veins, most of it directed at the higher-ups who assigned yu to that mission, angry at yu for being so careless, angry at himself for not being able to do anything, and angry at you for...

What was he angry at you for? He thought carefully about what you had said—that line about not allowing death to stop you from living. He realized, begrudgingly, that you were right and that his previous way of going about things had been completely wrong. He should have just accepted you; maybe then you’d be comforting one another over Haibara's passing instead of fuming from an argument. He shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that; the recollection of the event filled his entire being with shame. He got up and practically ran out of his room, going to go find you. He had to apologize. He had to make things right before you were gone forever.

•••

The footsteps behind you came to a halt, and a low voice drawled out your name. You did not bother turning around. You already knew it was him.

"(name),” he repeated, urgency evident in his voice.

“I was just leaving, actually.” You stated, voice monotone with your back towards him.

“(name) please”

“Whatever you had to say to me has already been said.”

“(name) turn around.”

“Why should-”

"(NAME),” he shouted, his hand grasping your arm firmly. You hadn't heard him approach you.

“Please. Listen to me. Turn around”

He was pleading with you now, and somehow you couldn’t find it in your heart to ignore him.

You faced him slowly, mentally steeling yourself for whatever he had to say.

“I’m sorry”

huh?

“I treated you completely unfairly, (name). Maybe I have been from the start. You don't deserve someone who is so scared of a mere possibility that they aren’t willing to give you what you want. I shouldn't have lashed out on you; I should have never rejected you; and, most of all, I shouldn't have ever made you feel less than you are worth. You mean the world to me, (name); I’m sorry I couldn't tell you sooner.”

Your eyes welled up with tears, and you threw yourself onto Kento, both of your bodies falling into a bed of flowers, hugging him tight from fear he would let go. Nanami responded by hugging you back even tighter, pulling your face close to his, and connecting your lips in an effervescent, fiery kiss. You parted and smiled all the way up to your eyes, staring at Ken, who was mimicking your expression. Sitting up, he held his hands in yours and gazed at you lovingly, his lips parted in preparation to speak.

“I believe it's my turn to confess, no?”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“(name), will you go out with me?”

The hundreds of kisses you planted on his face in response sufficed as an answer.

.·:*¨༺🌷༻¨*:·.

if u made it this far i literally love u sm 🫶🏻🫶🏻

requests open i promise they (probably) wont be as bad as this one 😍💪🏻

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wysteria-clad · 2 years

Text

Amarre

paring: Sub! Marc, Sub! Steven, Sub! Jake x fem! dom! reader; established relationship

a/n:

- shameless smut

- reader is a mix of gentle & hard dom for the boys.

- mention of Eros from 'Theogony' by Hesiod, Gandharva = handsome celestial male beings in Hindu mythology, also a reference to Garden of Eden and forbidden fruit and the Field of reeds.

- this is titled after the song 'Amarre' by Scarlett Rose.

- as always thanks to @imgoingtofreakoutnow 💗 for Spanish words and phrases

minors dni.

warnings: 18+ only, explicit sexual content, swearing, unprotected consensual sex, consensual dom/sub dynamic, sadism/machocism themes, anal play, cunnilingus, edging, orgasm denial, bondage, mommy kink, subspace, impact play, nipple play, temperature play, chastity cage, overstimulation, degradation kink, praise kink, dacryphilia, slight pet play, aftercare.

warnings have been given, do not proceed if any of this upsets you

tagging:

@syrma-sensei @slut4fictionalcharacters28

-------

Marc:

The moment he stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, you wanted nothing more than to rip it off. And that's what you did. You pushed him down on the bed, climbing on top of him.

You would never get tired of two things in the world despite seeing it every day—The sky, your man's eyes.

Just like how the sky paints kaleidoscope of colours, his eyes never failed to mesmerize you, how his deep brown eyes carried words and promises that silently clung to it.

Today they screamed 'Fuck me, baby"

You ordered him to lie back down. When he looked at you with a challenging expression, you fixed him with, "That wasn't a request".

When he didn't oblige, you pinned him down by his wrists, placing your legs on either side of him, your knees resting flat on the bed.

"It's so damn hot when you pin me down like this" he eyed you under his eyelashes laden with pure lust.

"If you move your arms", you leaned closer to his face and whispered in his ear, "I'm gonna have to punish you, Marc" you nibble his right ear lobe, and tug it slightly. "And I won't play nice" you said in honeyed voice.

"Is that a promise?" he teased you, with his trademark smirk plastered on his face, but he did not move his arms. You do love a challenge, especially when he acts up.

You roughly grabbed his chin, smashing your lips against his, devouring his wanton groans, indulging in the feeling of his rough cheek against yours.

"I love when you’re rough with me" he mouthed, not moving his lips away from yours.

Slowly moving your mouth under his jaw, you kissed and nibbled the sensitive spot under his jaw, you knew that would arouse him. "You talk too much", you left marks of possesiveness with each bite, followed by a soothing flick of your tongue, trailing down his neck. You pinched his nipples and twisted with right amount of pressure, enough to make him writhe in pleasure.

The window curtains on the left danced back and forth, swaying to the wishes of afternoon breezy wind. Steady streaks of mellow sun rays painted Marc's olive skin golden. You were not sure if he was a creature from heaven disguised as a mortal.

There was absolutely no reason why he should have those gorgeous, dark eyelashes. It was the shade of the midnight sky around one am, when lovers confessed their secrets to the moon.

Perhaps that's why people talked to the moon. The moon listens and carefully pockets those confessions and secrets between the stars, under the ink black sky.

You tilted your head to the side, perhaps he was a Gandharva?

What secrets does his eyes posses? What sinful confessions they craved to scream out today?

His delectable groans snapped you back from your short reverie.

"Don't move" you hop off him and the bed, quickly running to kitchen and coming back with tray of ice cubes and a strap on dildo.

New wave of excitement flickered in his eyes at the sight. He adjusted his position with a pillow, his hip was upwards, giving you easier and comfortable access.

With your tongue, you swirled your warm tongue around his nipple, teasing his other one with cold ice cube, you switched the actions on his nipples—the altering sensations made him let out a frenzied groan.

Redolent of his arousal mixed with the scent of his bodywash drove you mad with desire.

A quick movement of your knee made him spread his legs apart. You trailed down kisses starting from his chest to his v-line, turning your head and kissed the inside of his thighs, sending goosebumps on his skin. "Relax, baby" you breathed. With your practiced fingers and generous amount of lube, you slipped your middle finger inside his hole, curling it, drawing out a gasp from him, just within three inches, you could feel his prostate. You pushed your finger back and forth few more times to make his muscles relax. You added your index finger now, drawing out string of throaty moans from him.

Without further warning, you plunged the dildo into his hole, thrusting your hips back and forth, massaging his prostate.

He watched your hip move in mesmerizing, rhythmic thrusts. It felt nice to be filled. The blissful look on your face encouraged him, he loved that look on you. Control looked sexy on you. His eyes rolled back to his head, a lightning sensation went from his head to his toes.

The vulnerability and trust he was showing made this emotionally intense.

"You like that?" you slightly slowed down the movement but didn't pull out, to check on him.

"Don't be gentle, baby" he grunted. For him you made it both domineering and sensual. He felt so good not being the active partner in sex and being taken care of. It was a nice break for a change.

That was all the assurance and encouragement you needed.

You plunged deeper into him, increasing the pace, hitting his pleasure zone with calculated precision continuosly. With every thrust, he could feel orgasm brewing and exploding. He cried out, his vision got blurry with tears of ecstasy, his seeds smearing all over his stomach.

You pulled out completely out of him. "Did I say you could come?" you threaded your fingers into his hair, pulling his head back with a sharp yank and licking and grazing his exposed throat. "Answer me" you slapped his thigh with the palm of your right hand.

"No" his adam's apple bobbed, his eyes didn't meet yours. He was already frustrated at the lack of your touch.

"Get on all fours"

When he didn't move right away, you squeezed his throbbing cock.

The aggressive side of you turned him on even more, but he knew not to test you too much. Obeying, he got on all fours, his body on fully glory for you to see—only for you.

"I love your ass" you rub his round ass gently, before giving it a light slap. His back arched, a shiver went down his spine, his cock hardening. You started slow, you would gradually increase the pressure later.

"I'm going to give you ten. Say 'thank you' for every slap or I will start all over again, understand?"

"Yes"

"Yes what?"

He chewed on it. It was almost on his lips, ready to tumble out, you knew it. He was resisting. Your thumb stroked back from spine till you reached his ass, "It's okay, it's alright, baby. Go ahead, you can say it"

You placed a light kiss on his back.

"Mommy" his eyes closed in pleasure. He felt liberating as it rolled out of his tongue.

"It's okay, babyboy" you said in softer tone, knowing damn well that will make him shudder.

It was a new level of intimacy. The way he opened up turned you on even more.

Like an obedient good boy, he muttered and moaned with 'Thank you, mommy" with every slap. You made the last five laps harder than ever.

"You did so good, baby" you praised, "You can come now" you rubbed his ass in soothing manner. Red marks looked good on his ass, especially because of something you did.

He was a quivering mess under your touch.

Lubing your finger, you parted his cheeks, making him groan again with just your fingers. "Are we go to go? We can stop now if you want", you kissed his spine softly.

"I want more" he breathed out, his head still foggy from his previous exploding orgasms.

"You are insatiable" with a chuckle, you begin to thrust into him. "I want you tell me when to want to stop, use your safeword okay?"

"Yeah" and a nod. "Don't be gent-" he grunted, unable to finish last word as you pounded into him harder.

"What were you saying?" you teased, thrusting your hips forward.

"I love it when you fuck me like this"

Seeing him writhe under you with absolute bliss was a drug, one you got addicted to quickly.

"God, yes, yes!"

You gave him couple more orgasms.

When his moans got quieter, his elbows gave out and he dropped to the bed, you slowed down your thrusts.

"Ha--rder" he slurred. He felt like floating, his head maddened with pure bliss.

"Easy, now. Marc" you instantly stilled, slowly pulling out completely. He must be in subspace, you thought. You got off him, gently guiding him to lie down on the bed. You got rid off the strap on dildo, tossed it to the floor.

You got back with a wet towel and cleaned him up. Your gentle fingers brushed few strands of hair away from his eyes.

Grabbing body lotion, you squeezed it into your palms in generous amount. You massaged his body, starting from his neck, your fingers slowly glided down, kneading his arms, shoulders and back muscles. You rubbed some on his red, spanked ass in soothing way.

After wiping your hands, you laid down next to him, your fingers softly caressed the sides of his face.

His eyes were closed.

You could watch him like this forever, you thought.

"You are staring like a creep" he said without opening his eyes, a hint of smile on his handsome face.

"Yeah, and what if I did?" it was your turn to smile now.

He slowly opened his eyes. He said with a lazy smile on his lips, "You make me feel safe and loved"

You felt suddenly giddy, your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your chest.

I love you so much. But you didn't say it out loud, you didn't need to.

Your sweet kiss on his forehead was a silent promise of your love to him and Marc knew that.

Steven:

"Steven, honey, I'm reading now" you say, without even looking up from your book. It's the chapter where they were forced to share one bed. Yes, cliche, but you absolutely loved it. "Can you wait few more minutes, love, hm?"

"Y/n/n, please" he let out sound, a mix of whine and groan, already slipping inside his pants.

"If you touch yourself, I'll punish you" the gentleness in your voice was now gone.

Alright, your book can wait. You decided to take care of Steven. You sat up straight on the couch, closing your book before placing a book mark.

"Come here. Let me take care of you" you gestured him to come closer. He stumbled forward as if you pulled a leash. Your soft hands palmed his hardened cock underneath his pants, slowly riling him up. He bucked his hips forward instinctively.

Much to his dismay, you took your sweet time. You slowly pulled down his sweatpants and boxers down, but not all the way down, just enough to give you easy access. Steven was impatient when it came to this. Your movement was careful not to brush your fingers on his skin, he should learn patience. You are going to teach him.

Your heart rate sped up at the sight of his thick cock. "Sit on my lap"

"Love, I-" you could see the nervousness in his eyes, "what if I crush you?"

"You won't. Come here", you assure him with a smile. Your voice was gentle this time. After your assurance, he obliged. He placed his legs on your sides, in straddling position.

"Look at me."

His impatient eyes met yours.

"You can't come, you can't speak, you can't touch me, or make any sound until I say so. Do you understand?" your brazen tone almost made him whimper. "I will punish you if your disobey, got it?"

He nodded.

He didn't speak. Good.

You had previously discussed with him before—boundaries, limits, safe word. He promised he would use it if anything made him uncomfortable or he didn't want to do it.

The moment he felt your fingers on his cock, his breath hitched. You kept your strokes light and slow. Your neatly trimmed fingers trailing from the tip to the base, teasing his taint. You'll save it for later.

The anticipation was too much for him, he bit his bottom lip not to moan loudly as per your command.

So obedient.

"Good boy" your praise only made it harder for him to restrain himself. You began to fondle his balls and slightly scratching with your blunt nails. He leaned forward, resting his head on the crook of your neck, you could feel his moans hitch in his throat, swallowing down. He didn't make a sound exactly like you ordered. A good boy indeed.

"You like that, baby, hm?" you didn't stop your movements.

"You can speak now, darling"

"Yes" he manage to choke out.

"Yes, what?"

When he didn't answer, you withdrew your hand off his cock, drawing out a pathetic whine from his lips. "I want your eyes on me"

"Yes, m-mommy" he lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting yours. His voice was deep with thick accent. You smiled. Heat pooled at your core, but you kept your composure.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby", you drawl out, your silken words reached his ears like a whimsical melody.

Your fingers worked around the way from the base to the tip of his cock in up and down motion.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

You watched him throw his head back, his half lidded eyes drunken on pure lust. Throaty, deep moans and groans elicited from his lascivious, parted mouth.

You gradually increased the pressure and speed. "Does that feel good, baby?"

On the cusp of orgasm, he managed to nod vigorously, his curls sticking messily to his face. Pre cum beaded his tip. You touched his hypersensitive head with your thumb, slowly tracing the head of the penis spreading his precum around it.

He grabbed your hand closer and bucked his hips forward, fucking your hand. He only realised his mistake when you ceased your hand movement.

You glided your hand up the nape of his neck, raking your fingers through his hair and roughly pulling his head back. "Did I say you could come?"

He let out a whimper. Whining more at the loss of your touch, he cried out in desparation.

"That was naughty of you, wasn't it? Only good boys get rewarded" you pulled his head close to your lips. Your breath was hot on the sensitive spot behind his ear. "Naughty boys get punished", a shudder went through his whole body.

His bottom lip quivered at your words. He wanted to be good for you. He wanted to please you. He yearned for you to call him a good boy, your good boy.

Your tone was condescending, but you quickly glanced at his eyes to make sure he was alright. When you didn't sense any discomfort on his face and expression, you proceeded.

"I want you to be patient, can you do that?"

You could feel him hum in response against your neck.

"What did I say? Use your words when you are talking to mommy"

"I'll be good, let me cum" he pleaded, leaning his head on the crook of your neck again, desparately clinging to you. His voice was even more pathetic than before. His breath was hot against on your skin. "P-please, mommy, please" a sob ripped through his lips. He begged desperately.

You lowered your hands slowly, massaged the flesh of his inner thighs, kneading them with your practiced hands. His ragged breathes turned into libidinous moans. You could feel his cock twitching against you.

Eros—the limb-melter overpowers the mind and the thoughtful counsel of all the gods and the human beings.

Steven wondered if he was being struck by Eros or it was just your sinfully amorous touch.

You knew he was close. You hands moved upwards in gossamer touches, the soft pad of your thumb stroked his taint— a delicate touch just beneath his balls, sending shivers on his skin—again and again and again. He bucked his hip forward, feeling continuous jolts of pleasure through his body. His breath was raggedly fast and hot against yours.

"Your hands feel so g-good on my cock" he managed to utter those words, his tone slightly hitched at the last word. His grip on your shoulders tightened. Tears pricked his eyes. His eyes got glassy. "Please, please, let me come" tears freely rolled from the corners of his eyes as he shut his eyes tight. He was a whimpering mess in your hands. "Mommy-"

"You look so pretty, baby, being so good for me" you praised him, wiping tears off his cheek with your left hand. He earned it.

Veins were prominent on his cock, pre cum already leaking more and dripping down on your finger. He was trying hard to be good for you. He was being good.

Pleased at his behaviour, you decide to give him the sweet bliss of release. "Go ahead, honey. You can come now" you cooed in his ear, barely a whisper. Your left hand made a 'v' with thumb and index finger, holding his cock erect on the base, stretching the entire length with your other hand in slow smooth movement.

You cupped the shaft with both of your hands, to mimic the feeling of his cock surrounded by vaginal walls as best as you can, changing your movement sideways.

"That's it, good boy" you punctuate each word with a nibble under his jaw and neck, slightly grazing his feverish skin with your teeth.

How can someone me so cruel yet merciful, Steven thought. He cried out, intoxicated. His body shuddered with a thrashing orgasm. His seeds dripped down into your palm and your wrist, smearing his stomach.

You rhythmically loosened your grip on his cock, to ease the pressure on his sensitive member, so it won't be too painful for him.

"Why don't you lie back down? I want make you feel good" you switched the position, you pushed him down on the sofa.

When you moved and searched for something in the drawer, his eyebrows furrowed. What were you looking for?

Bottle of lubricant.

His breath hitched. He was excited and nervous.

"Do you trust me, Steven?" you kept your tone casual, not sultry to push him into anything.

He nodded his head.

You played with Marc and Jake multiple times before, it wasn't new to you. But to Steven it was new. Anal play.

His eyes watched you lube your fingers.

"Are you nervous, honey?"

"A bit, yeah", he was being honest, "I trust you"

You treasured those words like precious gems.

"Remember your safe word if you are uncomfortable and I will stop" your voice was patient and gentle.

Your touches were soft, your index finger slipped into his hole, carefully and slowly.

His breath hitched in his throat.

"Is this alright?"

Your fingers stilled the moment he said the safeword.

"Can we do try this later? Can you cuddle me now?" his voice was hesitant. Did this turn you off? Did you make you upset?

"Of course, baby" you replied with a smile that eased his worries a bit. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to" you wiped your hands.

"Want to move back to bed? It's lot more comfy"

You were cuddling him under warm blanket.He was silent. It felt odd to you.

"Steven, honey, is everything alright? Did I push you? I'm sor-"

"No, no. I, um..you are not upset I used the safeword?"

"What? No. Steven, I'm happy you said that" you made him look at your eyes, "Baby, I'm proud of you for trusting me and saying that", you caressed his cheek with your thumb, "It's about you too. We don't have to do anything we don't want to. You are still my good boy" you gently run your fingers his messy curls.

"I'm your good boy" he repeated your words, wrapping his arm around your waist, nestling his head against your chest, "I love you"

"I love you too, baby" you scratched his scalp and played with his soft hair until eventually be asleep in your arms.

Jake:

Jake Lockley did not think you could do that.

When you said you are going to punish him for touching himself, he didn't take you seriously.

He gave you a cocky smirk, "What are you going to do about it, princesa?"

Maybe warm his cock? Suck his cock?

When you made him wear chastity cage, something like curiosity and excitement flickered in his eyes. It was just a day, he could do that, it's not a big deal. That's what he thought.

It took three days for him to break under your touch. You cuffed him to bed and edged him deliciously, right when he was about to come, you stopped, putting back the chastity cage— for three days.

Every time he moaned, "Ten un poco de misericordia, cariño"

You would chuckle and say, "Beg me"

When you walked in those tantalizing shorts, he wanted nothing more than to bend you over by grabbing your neck and fuck you senseless.

Oh how the tables have turned.

He couldn't touch himself even if he wanted to, not without your permission. He was writhing. He never felt like this before— it was a torment, sweet torment he enjoyed every bit of it.

On the fourth day, you decided to be a graceful goddess and offer him mercy.

"Tonight is all about me. Put that tongue of yours to work. If you make me come twice within ten minutes, I'll take off the cage, if not, it stays on for few more days" you made yourself comfortable on the edge of your bed.

When he took a step towards you, you stopped him. "Nuh uh. On your knees, crawl towards me with your head bowed" your voice was cool and firm.

Fuck. You weren't playing around. You were good at this. So good.

He sank to his knees, arms on the floor. He averted his gaze from yours and bowed his head.

Being in control all the time was exhausting, to him giving it up and being under complete mercy of you was exhilarating and freeing, arousing him in new way he didn't think it was possible.

You hummed in approval. The sight of him being so obedient at your command turned you on.

He looked you up with those dark brown eyes. "Can I touch you please?" any cockiness in his voice three days ago was long gone.

"Use that pretty mouth and please me"

You set the timer on your phone to ten minutes.

He started with a kiss to your ankle, taking his time, his mouth slowing trailing up your legs and your inner thighs.

He was more than eager to oblige. He buried his face between your legs. His ravenous tongue devoured you, lapping back and forth, switching it up with side to side. He made your body tremble with orgasms.

It took seven minutes and forty four seconds for Jake Lockley to make you come twice with his tongue.

Your loud moans were music to his ears. He swallowed your juice.

You slid your hand down your slit, swiping up your juice. You parted his lips, pressing down his jaw and inserting your thumb inside, he sucked on your fingers.

"Atta boy" you scratched his head, ruffling his soft curls. He melted under your touch, eyes closing. Fuck how much he missed this.

"Since you are being so good for me, today you have a choice, you want my mouth or my pussy?"

"Your pussy"

You began to strip.

Jake stared at you lying back on the bed, his hands cuffed to the headboard. You climbed on top, straddling him.

The sight of the key in your hand already made him groan with impatience.

"You are so huge" you unlocked his cage, taken his thick member with both of your hands. You caressed the skin that got slightly chafed from the metal softly. You would take care of it later, you made a mental note.

"Do you like that?", your question was met by a grunt, followed by a whimper, because that’s the only sound your man could manage.

"Answer me, pet".

"Yes ma'am" he managed to mutter in his accent.

You challenged him and kept him on his toes, he craved it and loved it.

You sank your cunt slowly into him, thrusting your hips.

Relief? Ecstasy?

"¡Mierda!" his toes curled, his back arched, he thrashed his arms only to feel it restrained by the cuffs. No one gave him explosive orgasm like this.

"You look so sexy on top of me"

He watched your ample bossoms bounce on top of him with every thrust. It reminded him off the forbidden apple in the Garden of Eden. He could see but could not touch until you said so. What a ruthless goddess you were, a stunning one at that. He watched your lips part in pleasure when you orgasmed.

The change in power dynamic gave him new sense of thrill.

"Look at you, my little fucktoy" you grinned, taunting him and increasing the pace roughly.

His mind went to blissful oblivion. His eyes got heavy lidded. His carnal rage was ignited by your touch.

Time slowed down in his eyes. The way your breasts rose and fell with every breath you took, the sound of your lascivious moans filled his ears, few strands of your disheveled hair framing your face, you never looked so stunning as you were right now—confident and in control. You should top more, he thought.

"Who owns you?" your question snapped him back to reality.

"You"

"Say it louder"

"You own me, querida"

"Your cock belongs to me" you slightly changed the angle and thrusted deep into him.

"Who fucks you like me?"

He came again. It took every ounce of power in him to comprehend and answer to your question in that maddening ecstasy.

"No one. Fuck! I can't stop coming"

You chuckled, fucking him senseless. You were not done with him yet.

"I'm gonna milk you dry, Lockley" you studied his expressions.

""¡Por favor, cariño, no puedo!"

"If you want me to stop, say the safeword and I will"

But he doesn't say it, you were giving him what he craved.

"Please, I-" his words were cut off by his own grunts and moans. He was a quivering mess underneath you.

The intensity of his next two orgasms were raw and powerful.

"Baby, please!" he begs you pathetically, his eyes glossy with tears as you pull back.

"That's it, that's it" your voice was softer than before, "Good boy" you wiped the tears on the corner of his eyes. "That wasn't so bad was it, baby?", you uncuff him.

His breathing was still ragged. He rubbed his wrists. "Next time, let's use the silk ties"

"Maybe next time, you can use those on me" you chuckle and wink at him. "I didn't hurt you, did I? Was I too rough?" he could sense the panic bloom in your chest.

He chuckled. "No, princesa" he brought your face close to his lips in gently and pressed a kiss to your head, "You were perfect. Thank you"

You cupped his face and kissed his lips. "I'm gonna run a bath, want to join me?" you play with his curls, twirling and tugging it lightly.

"Princesa, if I ever say no do that, you can punch me"

You giggle, kissing him again.

The warm water was soothing. You made him to sit on front of you. His back was pressed against your chest. "Let me take care of you" you kissed the side of his head. You grabbed his hands, placing light kisses to the spot chafed by the cuffs, "we are not using those cuffs again".

His laugh reverberated against your chest. A sound you adored.

You lathered your palms with shampoo, massaging his scalp in soothing manner. He felt his body relax under your tender care and touch. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against your shoulder as you washed his chest with your favorite body wash. You kissed his shoulder blade as you rinsed off the bubbles.

Jake Lockley did not go to the Field of Reeds like Marc, but he knew he found his heaven right now, in your hands full of nothing but tender and warm care and love for him.

"Jake, babe"

Did he fall asleep in the bathtub against your chest? Small smile formed on your lips.

"Baby, come on, let's get to bed" you nudged him gently, "I don't want you to look like a prune!" you tried to joke.

"You are too good to me, querida" he mumbled, half asleep when you dragged him to bed. You made sure to apply ointment to his wrists and to tiny chafings on his cock. "Tú eres mi corazón..", he fell asleep, his arm loosely draped around your waist.

"I love you, Jake" you smile at his sleeping form and kissing his forehead twice. You pulled the blanket over both of you, "so much" you pressed another kiss to his head, before sleep took over your mind and body.

-----

"Ten un poco de misericordia, cariño" = "Have some mercy, darling"

"¡Mierda!" = "Fuck!"

"Cariño, por favor no puedo" = Darling, please I can't

"Tú eres mi corazón = You are my heart

"Princesa" = Princess

#marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagine #steven grant smut #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley smut #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight smut #moon knight #sub jake lockley #sub marc spector #sub steven grant

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wetcatspellcaster · 17 days

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I just found your work and let me just say that I am an absolute simp for Rosalie! She is such a wonderful character and love her paring with Astarion. Though I am very curious, what does Rosalie see in Astarion and vise versa? What do they love/like most about each other? Apologies If you have already answered this/feel free to not answer :) I hope you have and or are having a wonderful day!

oh hey anon! thank you for reading my work, and for asking a very fun question that allows me to be very self-indulgent.

under the cut to avoid long post bc honestly, I can ship them as much as I want but not everyone has to read that.

Game/Party Favours Rosalie:

Rosalie sees someone who essentially embodies the charisma she thinks she lacks (very funny to me, who knows his charisma score and her charisma score, after BG3 backed me into a corner and made Persuasion the dealbreaker of the game). She knows that her knowledge is reserved for ivory towers, she admires his street smarts, even if she doesn't agree with his worldview. She thinks he's very good at being a rogue, and she finds competency extremely attractive (I mean, come on, +17 to lockpicking? she had Knock and he literally never left her party. she just liked to watch).

She has a lot of shame, Astarion seems to her to be shameless. There is also some standard "oh boy, hottest person I've ever encountered likes me" serotonin, as she is flattered that she can catch his attention and hold it. She liked stretching her new tadpole-aided social muscles through a constant back-and-forth that made her feel challenged, desirable, and like someone other than who she was - he essentially helped her build herself a new mask without either of them realising it. She liked that he still wanted to be with her, after that was dismantled. In the Party Favours timeline when the world isn't ending, Astarion is one of the people capable of leading her astray and help her to behave recklessly (still without really being reckless, basically they have a lot of really fun nights out). Once things have mellowed out and Astarion's worldviews aren't "let's help slavers" or "let's kill 7000 people", Rose gives a lot more leeway to "let's break into this building", "let's drunkenly ruin this party", "let's liven up this dragon killing by talking to it first".

I feel like with Astarion I'm just repeating other people's arguments for other people's Tavs, but I really like shipping him with an unapologetically kind or lawful good person (Tav, Wyll, Karlach) just because I think it means he gets to experience kindness on a level he's never experienced before. In terms of what he sees in her: at first, a very easy person to manipulate, but who also holds the most power and status in the group - to his extreme frustration. Someone who starts out on the first day as kind of a wet blanket, but by three weeks in is dealing insane damage and killing people with Scorching Rays, making him reconsider his stance. He also sees someone who challenges his worldview, by refusing to compromise on a set of morals he thinks are stupid and should get her killed and then doesn't. She consistently forgives him and shows him a grace the world hasn't given him, until Act 3 when she doesn't. I think he thinks she's hot, I think getting yelled by said hot woman is still pretty sexy. then, he also thinks she has an effortless charisma at getting people to like her that he works very hard at (is this the same as what Rosalie thinks about him, yes, that's the joke!)

In the Party Favours timeline, he repeatedly tried to seduce her, and it didn't work, so I guess part of her appeal there is that she helped him without expecting anything else in return. She consistently helped him recover as a friend and helped him build a life, and there wasn't any sex involved whatsoever.

Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth Rosalie:

I put this as separate, because I think the exes dynamic does change things massively. There's all of the above, but I think they also just both represent to each other the lives they could've chosen, or the mistakes they wish they could have fixed. Rosalie mourns her former life, while Ascended!Astarion fetishises her morality because that's the one thing he doesn't have - a sense of purpose, a moral compass, a conviction, and also a guiding light. I do think they are kind of clinging to an alternate history where everything worked out perfectly, and they see that in each other - the number of times Rose mourns the happier person she could've been, it's nearly always tied up with Astarion. Rosalie (as she did once before) literally sees those tadpoled months as her peak, before another massive period of depression.

I also think that, come Act 3, there is the inverse of that - not just the life that could've been, but the second chance. The idea that you might be able to recapture a little of that former joy, even if it's different now, and even if you feel you don't deserve it. I think once they break through that preconception - of this person not as a person, but as an ideal or a nostalgia - and actually begin to see the real person underneath it again, is actually when their relationship can begin to flourish and just be... idk. a bit more normal, again?

#asks #anons #rosalie tag #i just like opposite attract relationships tbh #and charisma/intelligence (or popular guy/nerdy girl)#with a bit of rivals to lovers in the sense of 'ok let's see who's belief system is going to win out prettyboy'

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malcolm-reeds-pineapple · 6 months

Text

Blorbo From My Shows Wrapped 2023

And rating them on a scale from 1 to 10

Nathan MacKinnon: listen okay he comes around every year around hockey season. This year I’ve gone especially deranged for him and made a fucking top loader for one of my hockey cards of him. He mostly gets points for being Nova Scotian and also looking like he has sustained multiple blows to the head. He is also incredibly fucking shaped. Anyway solid 7/10 - loses points because he’s been stripped of all personality by the NHL in order to be more advertiser-friendly

Vinsmoke Sanji: alright okay I’m a fake fan because I’ve only seen the live action but sweet Christ I want this white man. From the moment this absolute womanizing jackass graced my screen I have been in love with him. He makes me giggle and kick my feet like a middle schooler at a sleepover. He truly is Blorbo From My Shows in the best possible way. 10/10 I think this man is so hot.

John Sheppard: I started watching Atlantis recently and I kind of thought I was gonna hate it because no Daniel and Daniel had been my primary brain rot since I was 9 but John won me over. I love his sense of humour and his relationship with McKay (aaaaaaa Canada Mentioned!!!!) but I also find his insubordination extremely hot like yes babe!!! Disregard your orders to commit intergalactic war crimes!!!! Also I love that we get Sheppard Scruff a lot because believe me that instantly casts a hex on me to lose all thoughts!!!! Foaming at the mouth for him!!! Anyway 8/10 - loses points for being a pilot bc my dad was on the ground crew and my genetic memory is telling me that all pilots are bastards

Tony Markovich (that fucking cop from shameless): listen okay hear me out hear me out……………….. alright I got nothing, I can’t even defend this one. First of all, I’ve only seen the show through tiktok highlights. Second bbg this man is a cop what’s wrong with you??? He mostly gets points for looking like a handsome young man who my mom would love if I brought him home. Like Tony just looks sooooo boyfriend shaped to me?? Like if I brought him home and he told my mom that he volunteers coaching basketball and that he likes to spend his off time cooking with his mom, my mom would literally bawl her eyes out because I’ve brought home the man she’s always envisioned for me. 6/10 - loses points for being a cop and also being too fucking vanilla to even think that his handcuffs could possibly be used for sex.

Ray Stantz: alright so he’s also the type that I would 100% bring home to my mom but unlike Tony, I respect his career. This guy is soooooooooooo husband shaped like he looks like the kind of guy who mows his lawn on a Sunday before the kids wake up so he can teach them how to ride a bike as soon as they finish breakfast. He’s also just so sweet and cuddly in canon and I want him to infodump about all his interests at me. I also like that his so squishy and I just wanna be the one who helps him get the ectoplasm out of his hair while he tells me about poltergeists and stuff. 10/10 - he’s so husband shaped he loses points for NOTHING because he’s EXACTLY the kind of man I want

Daniel Jackson: listen okay we all knew this was coming I don’t even need to say anything. I know this man has not only been living in my head rent free but he also lives in yours because you follow me and you have 0 choice in the matter. I’m not elaborating just go thru #yeet me into the void on my blog and you’ll get it. 15/10 he’s the fucking blueprint.

Jack Ransom: i apparently cannot exist without a white man from Star Trek bouncing around my skull so Ransom makes this list. I love blonde himbos and like the thing is that I know he’d call me a fucking slur but like his superiority complex does something to me idfk I should send this post to my therapist because evidently I need fucking help. 8/10 - loses points for being a cartoon, gains points for his obvious brat taming kink.

Anyway thanks for coming to the annual Blorbo From My Shows Wrapped: a post that if it got forwarded to anyone in my family I’d simply fake my death and disappear. However, my tumblr followers are my priest and this blog is my confessional.

#blorbo from my shows wrapped #do not ask me about word counts I’ll kill you #nathan mackinnon #vinsmoke sanji #tony markovich #john sheppard #Ray Stantz #daniel Jackson #jack ransom

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hivyx · 2 years

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hi!

rui with a reader who helps wxs by making them costumes and sometimes plays on the stage ?

have a good day/night:)

hello anon!! thanks for requesting, this is a really cute prompt! hopefully this is alright and have a good day yourself! <33

also i made an akito like reader, if that was you, IM PRAYING that its you 😭

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒

genre: fluff scenarios and mini hcs || with Rui Kamishiro + Akito-like GN reader

note: i had fun with this one!! bit iffy if i got the reader’s personality down, anyways the reqs are killing me /nsrs

desc. : you help wxs with shows in your spare time, how does it go? what do you do? oh no?? 😱

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 #𝟏

Rui let you know beforehand that he was coming over today to discuss the next costumes he had planned. he loved that you were so willing to help him, and appreciated everything you contributed to making WxS a better group.

he smiled as he got closer to your house, his smile grew bigger when you had opened the door and welcomed him with your usual slight RBF.

Rui followed you into your room carrying a relatively bulky box and set it down. he looked at you with his chin in between his index finger and thumb, and asked you what seemed like a genuine question,

“do you think you can fistfight nenerobo?“

you paused to think, “is this dumbass serious???“

“no. absolutely not. you idiot.“ you flatly say.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 #𝟐

“Y/N!“ Rui called out for you while peeking his head around the corner to your sewing room, expecting a shuffle with muffled grumbling.

he waited.

“Y/N?“ it came out more confused sounding, curious but slightly concerned as to why you hadn’t answered the first time.

he walked down to your sewing room, knocking lightly three times. he called out to you again, “Y/N?”

he slowly opened the door to you peacefully sleeping in a bean bag chair, your hair messy and mouth slightly parted. you’re next to a rack of clothes, completely finished and ready for their next show.

Rui adores how hard you work, but later reminds you to take breaks, but you being stubborn just scoff and call him a hypocrite.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 #𝟑

it’s very rare, but sometimes Rui asks you to play an extra part on stage.

“Y/NNN,“ Rui dragged your name out, a mischievous smirk on his face.

you groan as you stretch in your chair, “what do you this time.“

Rui chuckles, “i need you to do this part.“ he lifted his clipboard from his side, and circled his finger on a few highlighted paragraphs.

you looked up at him, patiently awaiting for your answer hoping you’d agree. “i mean...i guess,“ you mumbled, how could you say no? Rui gasped and kissed your cheek, “thank you my grump.“

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐇𝐂𝐒

you’re not as close to the rest of WxS compared to Rui, obviously. but you and Nene are really good friends. you don’t need or want company all the time, nor are you the greatest at conversing, but Nene knows that. so sitting in almost complete silence, is very comfortable for the both of you. the clacking of buttons on Nene’s console and the buzzing of your sewing machine breaks the quietness of the room.

Tsukasa is either your best friend or worst enemy, you can pick. sometimes he’s just overbearing, very talkative, very loud. but other times you find yourself looking for, in your words, a ’menace’ to hang out with. he’s fun to be around, Tsukasa doesn’t mind you at all, and finds you intriguing to be honest. the two of you butt heads sometimes, because you two always have something snippy to say.

Emu is a ray of sunshine, every room she bursts into, the atmosphere immediately becomes brighter. you thought that she was another one you couldn’t bear to be with. but Emu is so kind, and so bubbly you can’t help but feel happier yourself. Emu offers you the leftover candy that they sometimes use to pass out after shows, and gives you plenty of hugs.

shameless plug-in: masterlist

#[ ♫ ] — 𝐅𝐈𝐂 !#project sekai #project sekai fluff #project sekai x reader #proseka #proseka fluff #proseka x reader #rui kamishiro #rui kamishiro fluff #rui kamishiro x reader

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thebreakfastgenie · 2 months

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what's your least favourite billy joel album??

Honestly I don't know!!!!

It's either Streetlife Serenade, An Innocent Man, The Bridge, or Storm Front. But the thing is every single one of those albums has multiple songs I would call personal favorites:

Streetlife Serenade: The Great Suburban Showdown, The Entertainer, Weekend Song

An Innocent Man: Easy Money, An Innocent Man, This Night, Keeping the Faith

The Bridge: A Matter of Trust, Modern Woman, Temptation, Code of Silence, Getting Closer

Storm Front: I Go to Extremes, Shameless, Leningrad

Yes I did list more than half of one of these albums as favorites. This is what I'm saying.

An Innocent Man is kind of the opposite of the others. I think it's a great album and he nails the concept of doing retro musical styles. I do think it works better taken as a whole, so it's kind of ironic that some of those songs became huge hits out of context. But some of those hits are just... they're good but they're a little played out for me. I still sing along to every word and I still screamed when he announced them in concert so I mean.

With the other three, I've always felt these albums are just not as cohesive as his strongest work. I'm beginning to be persuaded on Storm Front because I saw an interview where he talked about it depicting a storm building and then the last song being the calm after the storm and I was like okay that makes sense. Storm Front also has lower lows for me. I like That's Not Her style, it has some really fun lyrics (she wines and dines with Argentines and Kuwaitis...) but musically it doesn't quite fit into the groove for me. Storm Front, State of Grace, and When In Rome similarly kind of just... happen to me. I like When In Rome and feel called to defend it because he was so mean about it for absolutely no reason, but it's definitely not his best work. So there are just chunks of that album I'm not as into.

The Bridge similarly feels so disorganized to me. There are so many fantastic songs on this album but I don't know where any of them are going. I find myself asking "the bridge to where? or to what?" Ironically to me it just feels like the bridge between different stages of his career; it was the last album he did with Phil Ramone but I always consider it in a group with Storm Front and River of Dreams because it feels so removed from the previous five albums he did with Phil. It also has lower lows for me; I always think I don't like Running On Ice until I listen to it and I remember that I love the piano and some of the lyrics ("a cosmopolitan sophisticate of culture and intelligence" would be my blog title if it wasn't too many characters for mobile) but I think something about the sound just doesn't click for me. I don't really care for Baby Grand or Big Man On Mulberry Street too much. I love that he got to work with Ray Charles and I appreciate what an influence Ray was but I don't personally like that style of music as much. So again, just chunks of the album I don't enjoy as much.

Streetlife Serenade suffered greatly from being sort of a sophomore album. It was actually his third album, but it was his second with Columbia, and he was forced to put it out when he hadn't had enough time to write because he was doing the Piano Man tour and he did not have enough material and it shows. Two of the ten songs are instrumentals although incidentally Root Beer Rag is great. Again with the lows... every song on this album has something I love about it, but Streetlife Serenader, Los Angelenos, Roberta, and Last of the Big Time Spenders are musically kind of unmemorable to me (Roberta is memorable for other reasons). I know I compare Los Angelenos unfairly to Say Goodbye to Hollywood, though. And I absolutely love Souvenir, but it's so short, it feels like half a song. Ultimately I think Streetlife Serenade is probably his weakest album just because it's unfinished but I don't know if that makes it my least favorite.

Typing all of that out did not help me answer the question. I'm going to say An Innocent Man because it's a bold choice and it's one of the few I have not been putting on deliberately lately. An Innocent Man and Keeping the Faith were both live highlights for me though lol.

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kamesama · 6 months

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— match-up trade: jjk.

for @tsukkismoonlight › match-up trades › hello, thank you for doing this exchange with me! i had a lot of fun writing this. i hope you'll like it 🥺

your match: gojō satoru.

competitive streaks reaching into the quiet depths of night. holding your breaths captive at the reveal of the new fragment in the game's lore. being rendered incapable of laying close to one another because the cat decided to claim ownership of the space between the two of you. buying sweets and souvenirs at the new stand that spawned itself by some alleyway. having the corner of your mouth wiped clean with a single brush of a calloused thumb. bursting with colour and looking out of place together, unconventional and bold, demanding gazes to stick to you like burdock. ruined sleep schedules and baking chocolate-chip cookies in the hours past midnight. playlists made for long drives. shameless laughing to the point your spine bends, knees give up and wall of your stomach aches. polaroid selfies taken in the right moments, lined up on a string as looming, wondrous reminders of good times.

your match is gojō satoru; the greatest, the strongest. the one that had changed the flow amongst the dimensions. there is a matching of bright, outgoing and outstanding energies that leaves a pleasant aftertaste in one's mouth. the two of you are a smiling pair; two rays sticking together in the blurry picture of the sun.

satoru has his fair share of oddness, but adores the touch of simplicity that there is to you in comparison to him. it isn't that he associates you with the lack of complexity — it's that he absolutely relishes in the teasing your kitten with a feather on string and flashing you a cheeky grin when he notices you are observing the scene. it's the small things he enjoys, like watching you get frustrated over that one layer only to make your drawing all the better just several minutes later. there is something about the 'mundane' that makes it all worth the fight he puts up.

he can match your energy, and he adores the vibrant boldness of your make-up. satoru has thick skin and rather than be insulted by any of your sarcasm, he would simply mirror you in that regard. he complains that you don't pay attention to what he's saying, but the way a smile tugs at the corner of his lip gives away that he is simply doing so to push your buttons just enough. a little out of line in his own way, he might need to be kept in check at times so as not to step over the boundaries; you can find him with his hand on your shoulder, watching you draw and asking if he could get a portrait — straight up maniacal. tell him off sometimes, he won't mind.

gojō satoru is similar to you in the plethora of ways that could serve as a fine line for bonding; giving in to that nap is something he won't fight and spending time together equals to fun experiences. competition whilst playing video games is a given and this relationships brims with child-like joy. however, at the same time, satoru is firm enough to draw boundaries and motivate you towards further growth and development, too. not everything is fun and games, and he remains present throughout all of it, making it the right amount of bearable.

he can be your number one supporter and the line you dial even if he has tendencies to be all over the place and ever-so-slightly unreliable, and in return, treat him to some sweet you baked as an unspoken 'i love you'. he will boast about it to others all day long.

other matches: nanami kento. ino takuma.

thank you for reading! — kamesama.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk match up #match up #tsukkismoonlight

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undeadchestnut · 1 year

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Isabel's OT3 dynamic with Marley makes me so happy bc Scrooge starts out his employee and is super eager to please. Probably exclusively referred to him as "Sir" or "Mr. Marley" until he became a partner at the counting house. Meanwhile Isabel? Canonically refers to Scrooge as "Ebenezer! 😀" the first time we see her on screen. She'd absolutely only refer to Marley as Jacob. I also hc that she takes after her Dad by being shamelessly huggy to those she cares about, so homie better get used to being greeted with hugs. She's a shameless ray of sunshine, but Marley is too stubborn to admit he enjoys it.

Ahaha, yes, I love it. 😄I actually like to think that she calls him Marley, and Marley ONLY, without the honorific "Mr." in front of it, which would be the rudest way she can casually refer to him. ('Jacob' would already be TOO familiar and friendly)

Absolutely YES to Marley being assaulted with hugs, however!!!

#as we've seen with ghost!marley he CAN be quite jovial if he wants to though... so he might just end up weaponizing the hugs against her #'Oh she likes to hug as a greeting? How about we keep the hug going until it gets awkward that'll show her.'#ask #anonymous #scarbel #scrooge x marley x isabel

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hixystix · 1 year

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CAN YOU FILL THIS OUT WITHOUT LYING? (Copy and paste - PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG)

Stole this from a friend's blog because I'm shameless.

1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth? Peach nectar drink.

2. Do you sleep naked? Summers in the South? Yup.

3. Worst physical pain you’ve ever been in? I.... okay, this one's a story. 20 yo me decided to take a soaky shower with bath oils, and read while I did so. Not being 21 yet, I took a (glass) bottle of Fuze with me to sip on. Everything went great until I decided to shave my legs at the end of the bath. I sat on the edge of the bath and started shaving but at some point I started sliding backwards and couldn't catch myself and landed hard on that glass bottle in a very private place and I thank God it didn't break, but it was still the absolute worst pain I've ever felt. I couldn't move for twenty minutes or so.

4. Favorite place you have been? Berlin by myself was a hell of a lot of fun.

5. How late did you stay up last night? I climbed into bed at exactly midnight and crashed right after.

6. If you could move somewhere else where would it be? Good question.

7. When was the last time you cried? My eyes water so I "cry" a lot but the last time I really cried was last night.

8. Profile picture? Meeeeeeee by my friend Amanda!

10. What’s your favorite season? Summer. Gimme that heat.

11. If you could talk to ANYONE right now, who would it be? I dunno. I'd be happy talking to any number of my friends!

12. Are you a good influence? I try to be? I'm not sure if I am or not but I try to at least follow the golden rule.

13. Does pineapple belong on pizza? Sure, but I'm not gonna touch it.

14. You have the remote. What show would you have on? Lupin!

15. First Concert? Ray Stevens when I was a kid. I was obsessed with him.

16. Favorite foods? Tacos, mac & cheese, fried pickles, fried rice, lo mein, bratwurst, goat cheese & crackers

17. When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? A mom. That was the only thing I ever really wanted to do.

#Susan memes #snag this if you want to!

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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 2 years

Text

The Construct of Time, Chapter 04

Pairing: HotchReid

Written For: The HotchReid Valentine’s Day Trope Challenge, Trope Assignments = Historical AU, Time Travel

Summary: The year is 1924, half a decade after the first World War, and a few years before the Great Depression would devastate the nation. It is a time of contradiction: the modernist uprising of science and innovation, met with a traditionalist, fearful desire to cling to the past in a fast-evolving, urbanist society. And on this morning in Washington D.C. an unmarked package is left outside the office of Aaron ‘Hotch’ Hotchner, P.I., with a note simply telling him to find the rest, and a substantial price tag attached. What he finds in this package is something he has never seen before, hundreds of years old, and he barely knows where to start trying to find more like it. Ultimately he is pointed towards someone that may just have a clue what to do with his charge: a Classics Historian working in the basements of the Smithsonian, Dr. Spencer Reid. Together, what they discover sends them on a break-neck chase across the city, searching for a mysterious collection of powerful artifacts, and the people that are trying to sell them. Forever changing everything they know about the world, the people in it, truth, lies, love, and the fragile construct of time.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (to be determined)

Chapter CW/notes: Absolutely shameless flirting. These two are kind of ridiculous and want each other b.a.d. Also finally introducing the ‘Time Travel’ aspect of the prompt, so get ready for some science fiction with your historical fiction. ((I’m so out of practice and I’m exhausted so if I think of anything else I’ll come back and add it here.))

Word Count: 5,916

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

–

Chapter 04: The Locket

–

The part of town that houses most of David Rossi's businesses is sketchy at best, and Hotch knows speaking so long with Emily at the bartop probably put his name in at least a few ears. He'd bet money someone jumped from their seat the moment he left, no doubt to phone another spook that P.I. Hotchner was asking about private illegal auctions. Hotch thinks back to Dr. Reid at the Smithsonian, toiling away under the lamps in his lab and flipping through books faster than anyone he's ever seen before, and immediately knows he shouldn't return that night. As much as he wants to.

Especially when he knows he feels eyes on him when he leaves that corner of D.C., takes the train instead of hailing a taxi, and gets off a stop too early from his apartment to see for sure if he's being followed. It's hard to tell, with how busy it is that early in the night, so he holes up at home and waits out whoever might be tailing him. Let them get bored, or tired, go home and rest up and hope to catch him before he leaves for the office the next morning.

Not knowing Hotch is a notoriously early riser. If they'd done their homework, they would have known better. Schmucks.

He arrives at the Smithsonian Castle the next morning as the sun is breaking over the spires and turrets. Has to knock on the door for 10 minutes to get a guard to come see his P.I. license and let him inside. The fact he knew Dr. Reid by name and didn't ask for directions to his lab helped his case. The museum was deadly quiet, dark, with only the first rays of the sun peaking through the high windows and warming the vaulted ceilings. It made the glass cases gleam, and descending the marble staircase a little more daunting. There was no doubt Dr. Reid probably wasn't even in, but Hotch would rather wait him out than lead any unfriendly eyes the young man's way. He didn't look like he'd be able to put up much of a fight in a dark alleyway, but there was also something about him that Hotch couldn't help but put some stock in. He might be more feisty than his appearance gave him credit for. Definitely had the brains to talk his way out of anything, Hotch was sure.

His steps slowed as he reached the bottom of the stairs in the basement levels, and he regretted thinking no one would be here. There was light coming from beneath the doors into Dr. Reid's lab, and the sound of someone moving around. Shuffling papers, instruments clinking, and Hotch approaches much more slowly. Footfalls silent, not sure if he should reach for his newest addition to his person – his pistol now in a holster on his hip, he has a license for that as well, just not for the second one strapped to his ankle – but Emily's words from the night before echo in his head and he keeps one hand hovering by his belt beneath his coat. He opens the door, keeping the creaking hinges to a minimal screech, and looks into the brightly lit lab for any signs of a stranger or a ran-sacking taking place.

No one knew Dr. Reid had the puzzle box. He hadn't even spoken to David or Emily about it, or JJ for that matter. And he hadn't brought the necklace there the night before – it was still in his coat pocket. He'd considered stopping by his office and leaving it there, but the Smithsonian feels much safer for it. And…

Hotch just wanted to see Dr. Reid again. He'd wanted to last night, sooner than was appropriate, but he'd managed a sliver of self-restraint in the name of preventive caution.

Movement catches his eye, and Hotch nearly ducks out of sight until he recognizes the familiar mess of curls and layered spectacles he'd seen the day before. He lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding tight in his chest, and relaxes his stance that had been ready to draw a gun on the poor scholar. Prentiss had him more than worried about what kind of people they were dealing with, now. Two hundred grand was a lot of dough.

"Dr. Reid?" he calls, now more collected and calm, but his voice makes the younger man jolt in surprise as he looks his way. The smile that breaks out across his face is wide, unbridled, more than a little loose from exhaustion and some kind of exhilarated adrenaline.

"Mr. Hotchner! You'll never believe it, I have made an amazing discovery!" he looks near frantic with trying to contain it, and it's as Hotch rounds the table to stand across from him that he really notices the man's disheveled state. As well as the exact same vest and jacket he'd been wearing the day before.

"Did you sleep here?" Hotch inquires, baffled, then he realizes that the slightly manic look in the other's dark smudged eyes should really have answered that question right off the bat. Dr. Reid does look confused for a moment, though.

"What – is it morning?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Hotch says, smiling fond and incredulous. "About half past six. I hadn't expected you to be here yet."

"Oh – usually you'd be correct. But I never left," he admits, sheepish. "So... I assume your sources were able to help then?" Dr. Reid asks, still able to keep their perspective in check and Hotch almost wants to commend him for that. Eyes dancing at how the young doctor is about to combust with the need to share his findings.

"In a way," he murmurs, lips still curled up to one side in amusement. "But first, what did you find that's got you all worked up?" And he does mean that, there's a bright flush to Dr. Reid's face that has to do entirely with an awed excitement. So many expressions and colorings to the man's sharp features and bright eyes, and Hotch has to resist the urge to catalog every single one for himself.

It would be worth it, as each expression and emotion also comes paired with its own beautiful, stunning smile.

"Okay – oh gosh, where to start," he shuffles through papers and procures the puzzle box buried beneath a few that have larger copies of the numbers and letters and symbols that line the levers and sides. All a part of the cypher that Hotch hadn't been able to make heads or tails of this time yesterday morning. "Alright, so, these symbols. I had recognized them when I first solved the puzzle, mainly guess work and equations I could vaguely recall but couldn't place, so that's where my research started yesterday. And they all led me to the preliminary forms of Chemistry – or as it used to be called, Alchemy."

"I remember the texts," Hotch tells him. The books Dr. Reid had pulled from the shelves had been mostly centered around early forms of science and the history of Alchemy. He hadn't understood why, but also hadn't questioned it.

"Yes! So, the equations it's using as a cypher to lock the box are actually very complex and have to do with some areas of study that even I can barely comprehend. But at its core it's dealing with the theory of relativity, or building a framework to better understand the relationships between special relativity and general relativity–"

"Woah, slow down. You're losing me," Hotch says with a shake of his head and a barely contained laugh. "I studied Law, not Physics. In Layman's terms?"

Dr. Reid does pause and take a breath as he considers what that would mean exactly.

"Time. It's about time, and space, and the way we perceive it." Hotch has to nod to say he understands, although trying to wrap his head around it doesn't quite equate to his current case of finding missing artifacts. "Alright let me back up. Alchemy has three fields of study: transmutation of metals–"

"Like turning iron into gold, I remember that one."

"Yes. Number 2 is the elixir of immortality, like the story of King Arthur and the Holy Grail?" Hotch nods again, assuming this is going somewhere. "And the third known field is about panaceas. Something that would cure all ailments." It had been quite a long time since he'd done any kind of reading that wasn't law or a newspaper, but the word panacea was most definitely foreign to him. Hotch did pick up on another word, though.

"You said known field," he points out. Thinking he has an inkling what's gotten his Classics historian so excited, now.

"I did, there have always been three recorded fields of study in the history of Alchemy. But this –" he brings the box back to the center of the table, and Hotch walks around to stand right beside the young doctor and get a better look at the relic in his hands. " – this box uses the same equations, symbols, that many early alchemists used in entirely different ways. While most of Alchemy and Chemistry deals with elements, and the human body, and the matter around us; both the elixir of immorality and what this box is indicating… also deals with the manipulation of time."

"Manipulation?" Hotch really does have to step away from his case for a moment to even think what that could mean. "You mean like that book by that fellow… Wells? H.G. Wells?" He'd had a roommate obsessed with the beginnings of speculative and science fiction, lucky him the only one he'd vaguely flipped through had been titled The Time Machine.

Dr. Reid kind of shakes his head in less consideration than it might have warranted. "Less fantastical, more practical application. But still extraordinary. Do you know what this artifact represents?" he exclaims looking right to Hotch, only to find them standing so close he can make out every fleck of color in the other's irises. "There is a fourth field of Alchemy, and I think your collection you are trying to find is everything that was ever invented to explore it."

"What makes you so sure?" Hotch murmurs, not having to talk so loud with the other man right there, practically brushing shoulders. Sharing breath.

"If there had been any other pieces like this out there in the world, we would have heard of them by now. I would have heard of them –" he looks back to the box, rotating it to show the engraved symbols all around it. "It makes sense, in a way. Alchemy also focuses heavily on the four elements: fire, air, earth, and water. It's disproportionate to only have three fields of study. But this is too well thought out and particular to be the first artifact of its kind –"

"Doctor," Hotch tries to interrupt halfway through his ramble, but the man is so caught up in his speculative spiel that he doesn't seem to register Hotch trying to get his attention. Until he breaks through with a bold and audacious attempt. "Spencer–"

That catches his attention.

In fact, it seems to make him freeze entirely, staring at Hotch which forces an apologetic twitch to his lips. Not sure if he'd offended the young doctor, or flustered him in another… decidedly more acceptable way. " –what does it mean for the persons trying to obtain the collection? What are they hoping to gain from it?"

It takes the younger man more than a moment to answer, a careful lick to his lips in that same gesture that always draws Hotch's gaze to his mouth. Soft slip of tongue and parted, full lips – he really is entrancing. Distracting. Deliriously so. Hotch raises an eyebrow at the other's pause, finding himself wondering what exactly the other man stares so hard at when he looks right back at Hotch the same way.

"It – it means they must either be fanatics, hoping it's true, or traditionalists… wanting to keep it hidden and safe."

"Safe from what?" Hotch inquires.

"The people who think the relics work," Dr. Reid points out, and Hotch reminds himself to refer to the scholar as such. And not Spencer, which would be so easily whispered or spoken in the low, intimate tones of an exhaled breath.

"But they don't," Hotch clarifies, glancing to the box between them and the long fingers cradling it close to the other man's chest.

"No, no they can't possibly. No one can actually manipulate time, just as no one can create an elixir to live forever or turn worthless metals to gold." He only moves one hand to tuck hair behind his ear, a nervous gesture that the other seems to use to center himself when he's reminded that they are supposed to be working on a case. They have a purpose to their inquiries and visits beyond staring into each other's eyes admirably. "To introduce such a concept of time, or the ability to somehow… draw from it and use it like a malleable source, it's theoretically impossible."

"But if someone thought they could?" Hotch presses, his own hand going to his pocket where the velvet box remains safe and awaiting its moment.

"The potential would be devastating," Dr. Reid murmurs, his tone indicating the danger it could pose. "They'd be able to change history, and the future from that, change the entire course of the world by off-setting just a single moment in time."

This really was proving to be much larger and more complicated than Hotch had signed up for. $5,000 suddenly seemed like not enough to risk his life as well as the theoretical fate of the world, or the life of the man standing beside him. Definitely not worth that.

"Then the sooner we find this collection, the better," Hotch tells him, observing as Dr. Reid puts the artifact back into its case carefully. Ever considerate of the span of history and fragility that surrounds it, even if it is just a complicated paperweight and not actually a mini time machine. "While you were making your discovery, I happened to make one of my own."

"Yes, what did you find ou–"

Just as he had before, Hotch places the new item on the table under the lamps without saying a word. It's obviously old, and a jewelry box, and it stumps Dr. Reid into silence just as before but his wide-eyes are nearly comical. Hotch half expects him to make a jest about proposal like he had to Emily the night before.

"I received this from an old friend, who told me it was acquired for more money than you or I will ever see," Hotch explains, opening the box carefully and revealing the locket inside. "I believe it's from the collection you speak of, but I thought I would consult my expert on the matter."

The flattery goes in one ear and out the other, thankfully, as Hotch hadn't meant to refer to the man as 'his expert' even though he'd claimed as much to Emily last night. Dr. Reid goes brilliantly bright eyed over the item, leaning down to inspect it further, taking it from Hotch's hands carefully and angling it under the light. The gold looks even more delicate as he removes the locket from the box, the chain draped over his flawless skin and polished to a remarkable shine. He opens the locket, carefully, precisely, and emits the softest gasp that Hotch wants to hear again and again in a very different context.

Hotch shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts, watching Dr. Reid's fingertips glide over the mechanics and hover near the levers and dials.

"This is incredible," Dr. Reid whispers, hovering near some of the particular parts of the locket Hotch hadn't dared to touch. Hotch is no longer looking at the artifact, or the other man's distracting hands, but instead at the expressions flickering across his face. He is fascinated, he's awed, he's… frightened. "This is… functional. Do you hear it?" Hotch shakes his head, because half the time he hears a soft ringing in his bad ear and the other is too overwhelmed to notice anything nuanced. Dr. Reid holds it up for him, and Hotch leans in to listen and sure enough – there's a quiet, sharp ticking sound that is just a beat longer than a second. It wouldn't be telling any sort of time, like that.

"What does it do?"

"I don't know," Dr. Reid murmurs, and he sounds so lost as he says it. There might not be much that this young scholar doesn't know, so that alone should make them wary of it. "If – if this does have something to do with relativity, with ways to perceive time, then I don't quite know what it's going to do or what it's meant to accomplish." He bites his lip, curiosity starting to flicker to life in his eyes and it's such a dangerous, bright thing that Hotch almost reaches out for him. But before he can, Dr. Reid slips away and puts a good couple feet between them. As well as a desk. "Only one way to find out, I suppose."

"Wait, maybe you shouldn't be messing around with it like that–" Hotch tries to say, tries to get to him, and every second that passes between then and what happens next seems to stretch for a lifetime. Hotch can't hear worth a damn, but he can see everything as if captured frame by frame.

He watches Dr. Reid trace the interiors of the locket, calculations behind his eyes as his gaze skitters about the mechanics of it.

His fingertips barely graze the dials, ever so slightly.

It turns one back, a single notch, and nothing more.

Then he disappears.

Between one heartbeat and the next Dr. Spencer Reid blinks out of existence, and Hotch feels like his own heart has stopped dead in his chest.

Born from Witchcraft. That's what Emily had said about it.

"Spencer!" Hotch calls, walking forward to where the man had been standing only moments before, spinning in place about to yell his name once more – only to find the young doctor standing by a bookshelf a good twelve feet from where he disappeared. Half in shadow, and staring as if he'd just seen a ghost. "Sp– Dr. Reid, what the devil just happened?!" he's across the room in a minute, hands tugging the young man back into the light to find him shaking and startled beyond comprehension. Hotch's touch seems to bring him back to the present from wherever his mind just went to, and Dr. Reid quickly puts the locket back on the table. Avoiding the box. Practically throws it he drops it so urgently. "Dr. Reid," Hotch urges, because the man who rarely goes quiet for long is speechless and it's beginning to worry him. "Doctor, what was that? Are –"

Without thinking, one hand still on the other's arm as he had led him back into their work space, he takes hold of Dr. Reid's face and gently turns it until those eyes are locked with his own. "Are you alright?" he asks, no longer giving a damn about the locket. Not with soft skin under his fingertips, a trembling chin caught beneath his thumb, recognition in those honey hazel eyes like Hotch is the one true shining light in that room.

"Yes," he breathes, helping release some of the tension caught up in Hotch's chest. "Yes, I'm alright."

Those glittering eyes would be mesmerizing if not for the equally glittering relic under the lamps on the table. Its golden shine catching both of their attention as it sits there, ominous and clandestine.

"Whatever you just did, let's not do it again," Hotch murmurs, a hardened expression sliding comfortably onto his face as he watches the locket like it might explode on them next. Dr. Reid nods in agreement.

"Not until I do a lot more tests," he says just as quietly. Hotch's sharp gaze slices back to him.

"No, just don't touch it again. We have no idea what it just did to you."

"I know exactly what it did to me," Dr. Reid whispers, still distant as he thinks of something so hard and with such complexity Hotch resists the urge to take him by the shoulders and shake him. How could he even think of touching that locket again? Hotch was considering taking that foreign assistant's advice and chucking the damn thing in the river.

"Explain it to me," he demands instead, the harshest he's spoken to the scholar but it comes from urgency. The need to be convinced that this is all worth it, whatever it is he's been roped into.

"I'm not sure you'll believe me if I do," Dr. Reid admits.

"Try me."

With a careful bite of his lip, and an even more careful choosing of his words, Dr. Reid pauses open-mouthed and astounded and unsure in a number of ways – that much was clear – then he said something that Hotch had not expected in the slightest.

"It moved me through time." He looks to Hotch, then, to gauge his reaction, and Hotch is nothing if not an excellent poker player. He keeps his face as neutral as possible, to urge the man to elaborate. "Or, rather, it moved time around me. What I spoke of before, about relativity, it's a fairly new theory developed by a man in Germany doing amazing work with science and mathematics. But this is… beyond even that."

He gets side tracked, a gentle squeeze of Hotch's hand still holding his arm recenters him. And gives Hotch a better idea what lies beneath the layers of clothing. Thin, strong limbs as willowy as the rest of him; the comparison between Hotch's own build and the man beside him is staggering. Makes his head spin pleasantly.

Now he's getting sidetracked.

"I didn't move my position, I was still standing over there–" he points to where he had moved away from Hotch before the incident. On the other side of the desk.

"But you disappeared," Hotch states. "You were standing there and you disappeared."

"To you I disappeared," Dr. Reid counters, equally fascinated by this observation. "But to me, I stood there – and time moved around me. Not long, a few of minutes possibly. And when I looked up I could see us standing right here." He points to where their feet are planted by the tables, just as awed as he explains it. "I hid, so I wouldn't see myself, I have no idea what would happen – and I watched what just occurred. I watched myself walk over there, watched myself vanish, and you rush over in search – and then you found me where I stood by the shelves. It's…" he nearly looks like he needs to sit down, and Hotch holds him tighter now. Pulling him just the smallest bit closer in case the man does sway on his feet.

It takes him longer than he anticipates to draw the conclusion Dr. Reid was trying to paint. He'd just traveled through time, into the recent past. Just like that damn fiction novel from his college days.

"Dr. Reid –" he trails off, the magnitude of it all pressing in on him with each passing moment.

"It's an impossible thing. It can move someone through time, while everything else remains the same," Dr. Reid continues, a frantic ramble in a deathly quiet whisper. "It works, it's real, the manipulation of time is real."

This was more than just dangerous, the prospect it presented was devastating.

"The number of people who would… kill to get their hands on it," Hotch adds, catching Dr. Reid's gaze sharp and sudden. He'd nearly forgotten about the case, the auction, the message and the idea that there's more. That there were people here in the nation's capital paying more money than most small nations possess in order to obtain objects that could let them manipulate time, history, and the future – whatever it may hold.

It's enough to put their present in a much sharper, more drastic perspective, and Hotch unconsciously finds himself drifting closer to the other man's face as they stare, shell-shocked, at each other.

If he'd been a braver man, taken the monumental moment for what it was, he would have lifted the other man's chin with his thumb once more and tested just how soft those lips are in comparison to his skin.

But the moment is broken, by the soft sound of falling paper. Muffled, a crackle that he can barely hear over the sound of his heartbeat in one ear and his tinnitus in the other. But it shakes Dr. Reid out of whatever trance they almost fell into, turning towards the sound only to find nothing having moved at all. Every paper was still in place, every book stacked where it belongs, nothing save for the locket discarded on the table and…

The puzzle box.

And Dr. Reid is looking right at it. He pushes himself from where his hand had been resting against Hotch's arm, the other on his chest, and the P.I. had no idea when that occurred either, but he suddenly mourned the loss of it and the moment entirely.

"What is it?" he asks the younger man, his voice a hoarse thing pitched low from what almost happened.

"It's resealed," Dr. Reid says quietly, picking up the box and turning it carefully a few times in his hands. "There's a new equation as the cipher, I didn't hear it lock. I didn't know it could…" With barely another passing thought, he quickly begins to turn the sides and gears, rearranging the symbols until it makes that final click that is longer and opens the top compartment once more. This time it takes him nearly two minutes to solve because his hands are still trembling.

Inside is another piece of paper, just like the one before it: the purest white, compacted fibers, smooth as glass. But the words written on it are not in English.

Ποτέ μην αφήσεις το μέλλον να σε ενοχλήσει. Θα το συναντήσεις, αν χρειαστεί, με τα ίδια όπλα λογικής που σήμερα σε οπλίζουν ενάντια στο παρόν.

"That looks like Greek," Hotch says, recognizing symbols from fraternities and alma mater, and the restaurant near his apartment that makes the best gyro in D.C, hands down. Dr. Reid nods once, staring at it, and Hotch wonders if he can read it. He probably can, he is a Classics historian. "Why send the first message translated, and the second one not?"

"Maybe it doesn't translate the way they want it to in English," Dr. Reid murmurs, still more side-tracked by how the box locked once again when Hotch was already two steps past that. He'd just watched the man disappear into thin air and reappear on the other side of the room. Making a piece of paper do the same thing hardly seemed a magical feat after that. "Mr. Hotchner… have you ever seen this kind of paper before?" he asks, his voice so quiet it shakes.

"No, I haven't," Hotch answers him, but there's a magnetic pull that has him trying to draw the young doctor away from whatever place his mind is spiraling into. A type of dread is seeping into his eyes, at the vastness of what they have uncovered, and Hotch doesn't quite know what that means for them or his case. But he decides then and there that it isn't going to help them solve this thing at all, or find the missing artifacts, and on top of all of that… he doesn't like the way it dims the brightness in the other man's eyes.

So he breaks that personal barrier again. Takes the box from his hands, lithe and long in comparison to his own, which look so much broader as he pushes some of the hair from Dr. Reid's face. Tucks it behind his ear for him. That gesture that means they need to be focusing on the present, and what's in front of them, not the prospects of the future or the vastness of the past. No matter how dire they seem.

"And if you're really going to insist on not calling me Hotch, you might as well start calling me Aaron."

That gets him back to center. Suddenly Hotch can see the same enamored look he'd been trying to memorize all day and the day before, unsure but hopeful and Hotch feels himself smile just the smallest bit. Dr. Reid mirrors the expression, and looks down to try and muster up a response. Biting his lip, and Hotch has to resist the urge to pull it free with his thumb.

"I suppose that's only fair. You called me Spencer," he reveals, and the cut of his gaze is enough to steal Hotch's breath away.

"That I did."

Oh, this dance was intoxicating. It was no secret that one didn't just walk up to a handsome fella and start making eyes at him like he and the young Dr. Reid have been the past 24 hours. A man had to be careful, even in a time like theirs where everything seemed to be changing and loosening around the edges. But they have gone far beyond just coming to an understanding about each other, about Hotch's flirtatious flattery and Dr. Reid's – Spencer's darting gaze. Flushed and flustered and so endearing Hotch has a very right mind to keep him –

But that's thinking too soon. Counting the chickens before they hatch, as his mama used to say. And besides, they're supposed to be working.

"So what does this new message of ours say?" Hotch presses, and Spencer shakes his head at him almost as if in disbelief. At how they're jumping around, or Hotch flirting while working? Or perhaps that he doesn't know Greek? "I'm sorry, some of us took French in college," he apologizes with a mock offense, and it hits its mark because it makes Spencer laugh in a burst of dazzling joy. A single bright moment, over and gone before Hotch could savor it.

"Et avez-vous aussi dormi pendant ce cours?" Spencer asks of him in flawless French, surprising the P.I. further. And did you sleep through that class as well? A call back to their time in the library. One that Hotch knows he won't forget for years to come.

"Hmm, seulement si j'étais éveillé toute la nuit," Hotch answers before he can think better of it. The words rolling off his tongue darkly.

Only if I was up all night.

The tension stretches, crackles, a warning shot followed by dense quiet.

He hadn't meant to, but – Hotch finds he doesn't regret it even after the words hang unanswered for many long beats.

"I thought we were in a hurry," Spencer says carefully, without looking at him this time, and Hotch's heart does a flutter kick against his breast that he hadn't felt in… ages. A lifetime, possibly.

"There's always after," he murmurs, that electric thrill of crossing the lines from subtle to bold leaving him stunned quiet. Saved only by the shy, hopeful glance sent his way. A shock to his system that wakes him up head to toe.

"And what happens after?"

Hotch does smile at that, at the blatant fishing. "Dinner, for starters."

Long eyelashes that cast shadows as he looks down, soft slip of tongue as he licks his lips, a smile barely contained. Oh yes, Hotch has plans for keeping Dr. Spencer Reid. As long as he can hold on to him.

"I'd like that very much," is his soft reply. Their eyes snap back together, tangle there again like fishing lines, so easy to snag and hard to pull free from. "But I believe time might be of the essence with this case?"

"Very much so," Hotch agrees, the smile dropping as he nods at the other's pointed redirection. And yet – in the spirit of his Ma's penchant for idioms – Hotch has always been well known for killing two birds with one stone. In this case, he can't seem to help himself. "I have a client waiting for results, and a date as soon as all of this is over. Time is very much of the essence."

Spencer laughs at his words again, and it takes everything in Hotch not to reach for him once more. Break another barrier and find out just how their edges fit together.

"Well then, I can make guesses about this translation all day," Spencer tells him, holding up the Greek message once more. "Or we can go consult someone who knows even more than I do."

"I'm not quite sure how that's even possible," Hotch relays fondly.

"Even I had a mentor at one point, Mr. Ho–" he pauses, demure once more. But coy, somehow, as well. " –Aaron. I wasn't just found in a basket on the steps of the Smithsonian."

Hotch refuses to admit to himself the litany of things that single moment just did to him. His name leaves Spencer's lips as easy as breathing, soft and with a sweetness that feels personal. Much better than Hotch, or even the scandalous Mr. Hotchner that Hotch really wasn't starting to mind one damn bit.

"Then I can't wait to meet him," Hotch says with a lilt of a smile to mask how much his blood is thrumming in his veins.

"Her," Spencer corrects. "And we aren't meeting my mentor. He would be a little too… eccentric for this, I think." He collects the box, and the locket (much more carefully), and places them back in their cases. Then stows them both in his satchel, for safe keeping, and Hotch doesn't contest him on it. Knowing what these pieces can do, and the possibility of who might be looking for them, Hotch wouldn't trust to leave the artifacts here in the Smithsonian. Even though it would be like hiding a needle in a haystack, essentially.

"So where are we off to this time?" Hotch questions with a small smirk of a smile, gathering his own things and straightening his hat. "The White House? Arlington? Another hidden library?"

"Georgetown," Spencer says, a little half smile that curls like a smirk of his own design. Wrapped in a dark peacoat and scarf, Hotch has to stop him and remove the layered spectacles from where they are perched atop his unruly curls as he makes to head out the door. They might have to stop at a café and get the young man some espresso before he forgets his way, next, running on so little sleep.

"You went to Georgetown?" Hotch frowns at him.

"I've taught at Georgetown, but no I never attended," Spencer tells him with a slight scoff, turning and leading him from the labs. The two walking side by side as if they have always done so, up the stairs and onto the streets of D.C., with half the city still trying to wake up and begin its day as they talk and bump shoulders along its near vacant sidewalks.

It's only just after seven in the morning, and already more has happened to the both of them than most get to experience in a lifetime.

What a world.

—

tbc…

—

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Tagged list so far: @physics-magic @thaddeusly @sideblogforcrimpy @anxious-enby

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#I've completely forgotten how to do all of this xD #but here it goes #update ahoy #HotchReid #The Construct of Time #Historical AU #Time Travel #Heid #katyswriting #I'd like to thank my co-author: Google Translate

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squishybellies · 8 months

Text

Friendly Fattening

G//ar/ten of Ba//nb/an stuffing and weight gain story because I can do whatever I want forever

The loud tapping of feet permeates throughout the empty, yellow room. Fangless gums suckle on knuckles attached to curled fingers. The colorful playdough creature wrings their hands together in a flustered frenzy, self indulgent thoughts causing him to coo in delight. Bittergiggle wanted so badly to be chubby, pudgy, even. He was a little soft around the middle, sure, but living several stories below an abandoned kindergarten didn’t exactly give him access to very much food. He often felt his stomach rumble from hunger day by day, begging for something more than scraps and the occasional other monster. He was a bit jealous of other monsters in that regard, Toadster in particular having an especially appealing form, though that was somewhat in part due to his natural body shape on account of being a toad.

Luckily, Bittergiggle was in luck on this particular day, for the Queen was holding a most extravagant banquet- a perfect chance for him to eat his fill, were it not for the fact he was a sworn enemy of the kingdom. Still, even the Queen wouldn’t be able to eat an entire buffet’s worth of food, at least not if she wanted to keep up appearances, which was something Bittergiggle was fortunately free of on account of their exile.

And so the jester snuck into the castle after hours, creeping along the creaking floors on the tips of his shoes, with a bent back and arms in the facade of a raptor. Just as expected, there was a plethora of food left over from her and Toadster’s little feast for the jester to get their grubby little hands on. He wastes no time pigging out on every morsel he can get his hands on- delightfully crunchy bags of chips, devilishly sugary sodas, and perfectly doughy donuts. It was always a mystery to him where the Queen acquired such delights, remembering them fondly from his time in her court, though he suspects they may come from a lost, functional vending machine somewhere in the facility.

He eats and eats as fast as he can, unsure of how much time he has before someone enters the room, soon feeling as though he might burst, his shirt soon riding up over his stuffed gut, seams crackling and threatening to snap if he pushes himself further. They lie back in a stray chair, using their hand to rub at their middle in a happy glee. Despite not being able to bring themself to eat another bite, he can’t help but wish he could, eyes gliding over the still dozens of free morsels available for consumption, just sitting there, taunting him. Nevertheless, the sleepy sensation of a full stomach lures the creature to sleep, despite his valiant attempts to fight it.

To his horror, when he woke up, his eyes met the pupils of another, though luckily not the creatures he would have been alarmed to see. Instead he is met with a very curious Banban, who he can only assume is fascinated on account of his absolutely shameless display of gluttony.

“You look chipper…” Banban speaks in his usual monotone voice, eyes drifting to Bittergiggle’s round middle. Once the jester is more awake, the uncomfortable fullness sets in again, causing him to groan and rub at his girth once more to ease the feeling.

“You’re gonna get a belly if you keep eating like that,” Banban warns. Bittergiggle rolls his eyes at this with a smile, “That’s kind of the point.” The red monster doesn’t respond to this, trying his best to be supportive. “Do you- uh- need any help? You know, before Toadster gets back, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble,” Banban asks, not waiting for an answer before picking up the jester in his arms, causing a small grunt to escape Bittergiggle’s lips.

“You know you don’t have to steal,” Banban comments as he carries Bittergiggle back to his room, making sure to be gentle with him, “If you wanted anything to eat I could always get you something- er- a lot of things if that’s what you’re into.” Bittergiggle raises an eyebrow at this, was Banban encouraging him?

Once the two arrive at Bittergiggle’s room, Banban sets the jester down on a bench. “It’s just I- uh- I saw that you seemed to be enjoying yourself-” he mutters shyly. “Yeah,” Bittergiggle replies, curious as to what Banban is trying to imply. Before he can get an answer, Banban reaches a hand out to drift his fingers gently over Bittergiggle’s belly.

“Finding you like that, you- well- I find your appetite impressive, that’s for sure.” Banban smiles softly, “I kind of want to watch you… uh- eat if that’s not too strange.” That comment makes Bittergiggle blush, suspecting Banban is being a bit more than supportive. Banban leans in noticing the jester’s blush, placing a hand against the wall as he leans over him, “Are you hungry enough to eat now? I- I- uh- I would really like to watch.”

Bittergiggle lets out a guffaw at this comment, “No way! You must be out of your mind, red one, maybe later.” Having nothing better to do, the two sit in silence for a while, Bittergiggle slowly working away at his meal and Banban leaned against him in wait. Soon, the bloated feeling died down, and most of what was left in Bittergiggle’s stomach was miscellaneous digested bits and pieces of his previous meal organized neatly into an easier to manage sludge resting in his intestines. Although he hadn’t yet gained anything from his little binge, Bittergiggle nevertheless felt proud of their accomplishment. He felt very relaxed in this state and even a bit hungry again.

A devious grin spreads across Bittergiggle’s face as they decide to mess with Banban, stroking their belly with a finger while leaning back against him, moving the appendage in circles around their navel in a teasing manner before their stomach lets out a loud groan of emptiness. “So about that offer of yours, devil?”

Banban puts a hand over his chest at this, gripping his fingers into his flesh as his heart beats quickly under his palm. He smiles and nods as he hears another gurgle from Bittergiggle’s gut, reminding him that he would actually need to fetch food in order to make this happen.

The red devil wastes no time, practically scrambling out of the room to who knows where to grab some food, leaving Bittergiggle to smugly wait for his return. Under normal circumstances he would be much more embarrassed about this sort of thing, but Banban’s reactions bring him a similar joy to getting a chuckle at one of his jokes, just a little hit of happiness. His attention is soon diverted by a candy bar placed excitedly against his lips, Banban staring at him with an armful of treats in an eager delight.

The jester wastes no time wetting his lips and biting into the sugary delight. His mind loses itself in the sensations of flavor and utter indulgence so much so that he nearly forgets someone else is watching, cramming the entire bar down his gullet with greedy fervor. A moan escapes his lips, followed by a blush once they remember they have company, though he quickly works off the nerves with a cheerful laugh. He feels a little silly about the situation, after all, but being a jester it’s a feeling he is used to.

Beyond that, he feels happy, having Banban roped into his little fantasy is just icing on the cake at this point, it’s always nicer to enjoy yourself with company after all. Bittergiggle finishes the first few morsels easily, leaning back against the wall and giving his belly a proud pat. Banban smiles and offers the jester a piece of raw meat, much to their surprise. “Where did you manage to find this?” Bittergiggle asks inquisitively, having never seen food that wasn’t processed this deep. “Well- you know- I was a member of the facility so I have access to the staff rooms,” Banban explains, “A few of them have fridges, and I found some meat in a few of them.” Bittergiggle looks at Banban questioningly at this, “Is that sanitary?” To which Banban just shrugs, popping the piece into Bittergiggle’s mouth.

The feeding session continues for several minutes, Bittergiggle eating every single piece of food that Banban gives him, only stopping to occasionally question where the red creature acquired certain items. Soon, the last morsel pops into the jester’s mouth, Bittergiggle moaning and groaning once again, feeling full, but smiling in content as he rests his hands on the top of his gut.

Banban soon gets to work as well, rubbing at the gut he helped fill as gently as he can. “Wow- I can’t believe you actually managed to eat so much,” Banban blushes, feeling Bittergiggle’s stomach rumble under his fingertips.

Over the course of a few hours, Bittergiggle watches with delight as his middle begins to pack on the pounds, all the food he ate being converted into comfortable fat. Even with his shirt pulled back down, the clothing soon begins to feel tighter and tighter as his entire body begins to balloon out. Kneading at the cushy, blobby flesh feels wonderful, practically immobilizing the jester as his mind slips into thoughts of getting even bigger.

Once he’s finished growing, the seams of his outfit are straining heavily, bound to snap if he stuffed himself at this state, but still able to cover him up luckily. “Thanks for the food, Banban,” Bittergiggle smiles, very pleased with himself and his new form. Banban doesn’t respond, only grabbing one of Bittergiggle’s rolls with a small smile.

“If you ever want to do this again- I’m up for it anytime.”

#my stories #stuffing #weight gain

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