#backwa

[this-barbie-is-the-problem]

IM MAKING A GOOD PIZZA GREAT PIZZA COMMUNITY

[dantelovesvirgil]

[http-angelite]

SP RQ- The main 3 + Butters with a GN s/o that all of a sudden starts to tickle them and kiss their faces, like cheek, lips etc, in general being all cute? And if they try to do it back the s/o tries to run away, and maybe throw Pillows at them

Just being all cute

🌸

♡ kissing, tickling, and throwing pillows ♡

characters: kyle, stan, kenny, butters (all aged 16-17) ➤ gn reader

Kyle . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

he gets so shy and red when you start kissing his face. he's tense at first, unused to such physical affection. once you gently place your hands on his cheeks, however, he feels his every muscle relax under your touch. he leans into you, closing his eyes and losing himself on your lips.

but then you move your hands to his sides and start tickling him. his eyes shoot open and he yelps in surprise. he hates how ticklish he is, and does his best to hold in his laughter, but he can't keep it up for very long.

once his laughter is set free it sounds so genuine and unrestrained that it reminded you of a child's.

when he reaches over to tickle you in return, you run. he gets up to chase you but, before he catches you, you take a pillow, throw it in his face, and laugh.

he grabs the pillow and smacks you with it repeatedly.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"are you even listening?"

kyle asks. you lifted your eyes from his lips to meet his, gazing into them. he was trying to help you study by reading off questions from a set of notecards he made, but you were too busy admiring him to pay attention.

"uh, no, not really."

"why not?"

"you have such pretty eyes."

his cheeks warm up a bit, but the rest of his body freezes.

"you think so?"

he asks, shyly lowering his voice.

"i do."

"no one's ever told me that before."

your eyebrows furrow, and you almost don't know how to respond. you knew that boys typically received little compliments of such nature, but it still practically offended you that no one else had noticed how gorgeous his green eyes were. you almost took it personally, on his behalf.

"that doesn't make sense to me."

he shrugs.

"i just don't receive many compliments in general, especially about my appearance."

"but there's so much to compliment."

you stood up from where you sat across his room and walked over to him, climbing onto the bed he rest on and placing yourself in his lap. he averts his eyes, timidly.

"i don't know about that."

you scoff, almost aggressively taking the cards out of his hands and putting them onto his nightstand. He then set his hands on your hips instead.

'it's true! your eyes, your nose, your lips, your hair, they're all perfect. not to mention that you have the sweetest smile and the loveliest laugh."

at this point, he knows that there's no way you haven't noticed how red his face has gotten. He tries to think of something to say, but he's speechless, overwhelmed by your attention.

"every time i look at your cute face i just wanna kiss it all over!"

and that's exactly what you do. starting near his jaw, next to his lips, peppering kisses across the warmth of his cheek. he can't help but smile. you take his hat off of his hand to run your fingers through his hair, moving it out of the way so you can continue kissing along his forehead. he leans into you, relaxing his muscles and melting onto your lips.

"you're perfect."

you place one last, extended kiss to his lips.

"you better not be mean to my boyfriend >:(."

"okay, i won't."

he titters.

"there's that laugh that i love!"

"i'm not laughing."

"really? how about now?"

you move your hands to his sides and wiggle your fingers against him. he yelps, but quickly recloses his lips. he does his best to stifle his laughter, but fails. the way he closes his eyes as he chortles makes you smile. he squirms, trying to grab your wrists and pull them away.

"not fair! i wasn't prepared!"

"what fun would it be if you were?"

he finds the strength to push you off of him. not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to knock you backward, landing your back on the mattress you both sit on. he goes to pounce, but you swiftly roll out of the way. he lands face first on his bed, while you land with your hands and knees on the carpet. you let out a giggle as he gets up, and you crawl away when he reaches down to grab you.

"get back here!"

you lift yourself to your feet and turn to face him. he jumps up from the bed and makes his way toward you. you back away, nearly meeting the wall behind you. he lunges at you, but you dodge, and he almost lands his face to the wall. you run back over to his bed as he continues to chase you.

"stay back!"

you yell, grabbing a pillow and throwing it in his face.

"agh! how dare you!"

he grabs the pillow and corners you on the bed, smacking you with it repeatedly. you put your arms up to shield yourself, all while giggling.

"okay! you got me, you win!"

he throws the pillow to the side and sets his hands on the bed at your sides, using them to hold himself up while hovers over you. your faces are inches apart. you're both still giggling and trying to catch your breath. he stares into your eyes, smiling winsomely.

"you know, i think your eyes are really pretty too :)."

Stan . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

he isn't as ticklish as kyle or butters, but finding just the right spots that make him squirm is a task that you've managed to accomplish.

his laugh is soft and adoring. he not only laughs at the way you tickle him, but also, partially, at the cute determined face you make when you do so.

he hits you with a pillow, knocking you back as he tries to tickle you in return. you try to escape, but he catches you.

he pulls you under him so he can kiss you. when you part, you take his face in your hands and begin kissing all over it.

he giggles with a dopey smile, and you swear you can see his pupils morph into hearts.

»»————-　♡　————-««

you and stan were playing video games together, sitting on pillows placed on the floor in front of his television. you didn't often play videogames together. partly because he initially went to his friends if he wanted to play games, and partly because you sucked at them. and he had picked the type of game that you were the worst at: first person shooter.

and, man, was he kicking your ass.

"dude, you suck at this."

he said, a bit too enthusiastically. he was right tho, but you were too competitive to be beaten so easily. this fight didn't last long, however, because he quickly defeated you; but not as quite as quickly as he would have if you had already accepted your fate. he throws his fists up in triumph.

"ha! i beat you again!"

you grumble, crossing your arms and refusing to look at him, but he keeps talking.

"i forget, do you just like losing?"

"shut up! you just got lucky."

"got lucky for the 10th time in a row."

he laughs, amused at the pout evident on your lips. he found it so adorable, how competitive you were, how you crossed your arms so ardently.

"oh, you think it's funny?"

"yeah, i do."

"i'll give you something to laugh about!"

you tackle him to the floor and start tickling him. mercilessly, of course. he gasps, the continues to laughs, unabashedly. he does his best to push you off, but, again, you don't go down without a fight. he resorts to grabbing one of the pillows you both were sitting on and hitting you with it, knocking you back. He then sits back up in front of you.

"you're a sore loser."

"whatever, you're a sore winner."

"you're cute when you're mad."

he leans closer to you, your faces now inches apart. you feel a subtle heat rise to your cheeks.

"shut up and kiss me."

he closes his eyes and presses his lips to yours ever so delicately. you can't help but smile when you part and he looks at you so softly, witch such fondness.

"i can't be mad at this handsome face for too long."

you place your hands on his cheeks, caressing his skin with your thumbs. he closes his eyes, pressing his face further into your touch, before turning his head just slightly enough to plant a kiss to your palm. you incline to lay a kiss on his cheek. one kiss becomes to, and two becomes four, until you're littering pecks across every inch of his face. he smiles wide, his face turning pink.

"i'll beat you next time."

"sure you will."

he moves his hands to your sides and starts tickling you. you try to crawl away, but he grabs your legs and pulls you back underneath him.

"you'll never beat me!"

Kenny . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

he throws a pillow in your face to make you pay attention to him if you aren't doing so.

you throw it right back at him, immediately feeling a little guilty when you see his puppy eyes and pout.

you lure him into your arms with the promise of a tender embrace. you kiss him allover his face, running your hands through his hair. he basks in your warmth and affection.

you catch him hella off guard when you suddenly start tickling him. his boisterous laughter makes your heart swell.

he manages to remove your hands from his sides, holds you tightly against him, unable to escape as he tickles you back.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"y/n. y/n. y/n."

"yes, kenny?"

he groans in frustration when you answer without even looking up from your phone. he comes over to where you rest on the couch and sits next to you.

"when are you gonna get off your phone?"

"in a minute."

"you said that like three times already."

"well, i promise this time."

he groans again, almost comically slumping back against the sofa. he was bored. he wanted you to look at him, talk to him, pay any attention to him. you hadn't kissed him in almost 15 minutes and he thought he was gonna die. you notice him get up, but you still don't move your eyes from your phone. he grabs a pillow off of the couch and chucks it at you, hitting you in the face and knocking your phone out of your hand.

"you gremlin!"

"gremlin??"

he gasps, cartoonishly offended.

"you're so mean! :( i just wanted your attention."

"aw, i'm sorry, sweetheart. come here."

you hold out your arms. he climbs on top of you and lays between your legs with his head placed against your chest. you slide the hood off of his head and run your fingers through his hair, gently scraping your nails on his scalp. you lay your lips on his forehead, then his cheek, and his jaw; making your way across his flushed face. he sighs in content and softens into the warmth of your body. he closes his eyes, only opening them again when you stop.

"why'd you stop?"

you snicker, wordlessly moving your hands to the hem of his jacket. you lift it just enough to slip your hands under, feeling the bare skin above his hips.

"oh?"

he smirks. you look into his eyes with a fake, sultry smile. you lean forward, pretending like your about to kiss him, but then you start fluttering your fingers against his skin, tickling him. he begins laughing uncontrollably, and you let out a villainous chuckle.

"you tricked me!"

he pushes himself up and away from you and falls back onto the cushions behind him. you lift yourself as well, following his movements. you lean over him, reaching for his sides again and continuing to tickle him, and he continues to laugh.

"you're evil!"

"you wanted my attention, you got it. happy now?"

he grasps your wrists, removes them from his waist, and, by them, he pulls you towards him. you fall on top of him and he wraps his arms around you.

"i am now."

you smile into his chest. you feel one of his hands trace your waist, while the other arm is still wrapped around you, keeping you in place. then he starts tickling you! your laughter is muffled by his parka. he giggles as you try to escape.

"how's that medicine taste? your own flavored?"

"yes and i don't like it!"

Butters . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

he loveslovesloves any and all attention you give him.

he immediately leans into you when you start kissing him. his face grows warmer and warmer with each peck you plant on his skin

your heart fills to the brim, nearly overflowing, when you hear him giggle. you felt like you could listen to his sweet laughter all day. so you tickle him! and he laughs even more :)

once he gets away from you, he grabs a pillow and swings it in front of him, using it to protect himself.

and while you're distracted, he pounces, gripping your sides and tickling you in return.

»»————-　♡　————-««

once he catches sight of you, his eyes light up and the corners of his lips turn upwards.

"y/n!"

he shouts, excitedly getting up from his bed and rushing over to you.

"hi darling! <;3"

you meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around his neck and rubbing your cheek against his. his arms tightly encase your waist as he closes his eyes, cherishing your embrace. he rests in your warmth for a moment, before moving his head so that it was in front of yours, without either of you removing your arms from around the other.

"what are you doing here?"

"i was just missing my favorite boy."

he was so effervescent when he spoke to you. when you speak to him in that sickeningly sweet voice in return, heat rises to his cheeks, making his skin bloom with a soft pink. you move your hands from around his shoulders to place them on the sides of his face. you look into his eyes so lovingly, making his heart beat so fast that he swears that its moments away from bursting through his chest.

"well i missed you too baby!"

you hum happily in response, bringing your face closer to his before planting a gentle peck to the tip of his nose, then under his eyes, onto his cheeks, his forehead, and the bridge of his nose. he can't help but giggle at the way you so vivaciously scattered smooches along his precious face. you just loved to love him, but he enjoyed it even more than you did.

"you have the cutest laugh."

"well, i don't know about the cutest."

"it's true!"

he averts his eyes, bashfully. you find the strength to tear your hands away from his face, grazing your fingertips against his collar, down to his chest, until they rest, for a moment, at his waist. then you start moving your fingers, fluttering them against his sides to tickle him. he lets out more of that wonderful laughter that you lived for.

"see?"

he stepped back, but you followed with your hands still attached to him. he continued until he met the edge of his bed, then quickly turning himself to climb on top of it. and before you can do so yourself, he grabs a pillow and starts swinging it in front of him, hitting you in the process.

"stay back!"

he shouted cheerfully as you crawled onto the bed with him. he then threw the pillow at you as a distraction before tackling you. he starts tickling you just as you did to him.

"haha! i got you!"

he swore that all colors became more vibrant when he hears you laugh. he thought that you were the one who truly had the cutest laughter.

hi! tysm for reading! this is my first ever request, so i apologize if it's not all that great. i kinda unintentionally took some creative liberties, but hopefully you still think it's cute :)

also ty for requesting! i rlly hope you like it <3 any and all feedback is appreciated.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

all I did was what I had to - part two

all I did was what I had to miniseries

part two: this world is not made for you

series masterlist | part one | part two | part three

dark!raider/hunter!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After a near-death experience, you thank Joel on your knees in an abandoned Burger King. (This takes place before parts one and three but is best read in this order.)

Warnings: dark, dub-con, dark!Joel Miller, raider/hunter!Joel Miller, muddled themes of captivity, attempted sexual assault (not by Joel), canon-typical violence, dead dove do not eat, watersports, piss drinking, oral (m receiving), d/s dynamics if you squint, humiliation, punishment

Inspired by this prompt list from @absurdthirst. I did not come up with raider/hunter!Joel or dark!Joel and many great writers have built in this sandbox before me

also on ao3

“What's got you all riled up, huh?” Joel asks as you’re drying your face off on the back of his shirt. He had done the same with yours, given that it was essentially the only unsoiled spot on either of your outfits.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah? You haven’t kept your eyes off me all afternoon. What would I find if I checked your panties?”

“M’not wearing any.”

He should know, he provides all of your clothes.

Joel laughs, turning around and grabbing you by the bicep. “That’s right.”

He pushes you down, but you go willingly. He wasn’t wrong. You’d been buzzing with unspent adrenaline, the image of him haunting you. The blood on his shirt and arms is still wet from when you encountered the first man at the edge of the woods. Joel, with wild curls and wilder eyes, had crept up behind him, wrapped an arm around his chest, and slit his throat.

From your knees on the muddy, chipped tile, you can see blood splatter under his chin, barely visible in his beard. It probably shouldn't be making you wetter.

The men's bathroom of an abandoned Burger King is as gross as it sounds, but the windows of the restaurant were busted out, and you needed a place to breathe after the fight.

Well, he needed a place to breathe after the fight. You needed a place to breathe after, well. After.

He looked down at you and shook his head. “Bein’ good now ain’t gonna save ya from being in trouble.”

Damn. You knew he was still mad.

When he had finished carving up the fourth and last hunter, still in the throes of bloodlust, he had rounded on you.

“This is why I didn’t want to bring you out here. I told you it wasn’t fuckin’ safe.” He shook the blade at you like a teacher waggling a finger at a pupil.

“I’m sorry,” you had whispered. But you weren’t as meek as you should be, not as cowed. Because he had killed them all for you. “Maybe if I could—”

He stalked up, grabbing your (his) shirt in one fist, the bloody knife still clutched in the other. “If you could what, huh? If you could pay attention to your fucking surroundings? If you could stop wanderin’ off?”

“I wasn’t wandering! I was just trying to give you a little privacy; I only went around the corner.” You tried to look at him, but all you could see was the knife. And the blood on his forearm by your face.

He shook his head. “I told you to stay close. You wanted to go out so bad. Ain’t any bathrooms outside, sweetheart. What did you fuckin’ expect?”

“If I could just have a-a knife or a—”

“Shut up. You know you ain’t gettin’ a gun or a knife. Jesus.”

“You could teach me, I could do it.”

“I said shut up.” He shakes you by the fist in your shirt, and you purse your lips shut, eyes infuriatingly wet.

He let go, letting you stumble back. “Good girl. Now let’s get going.”

Neither of you spoke until you reached the Burger King.

Now, you wait patiently for his cock, with your mouth open, tongue out, just like he liked, hands clasped behind your back. “M’not trying to get out of trouble.”

“Oh yeah? Just need my dick in your throat?”

You nod.

He grabs your head and starts to unbuckle his belt, and you can’t help it; you jerk and scramble backward, catching yourself on your hands.

He’s so surprised that he lets go. You’ve never once tried to pull away, never refused him anything. Sure, you’ve hesitated for a moment, or flinched, but he’s not a monster, he didn't count those against you.

He puts his hands up, belt hanging loose, but you don’t see. You’re tensing every muscle, eyelids squeezed tight.

“Hey,” he says.

You startle and look up at him, and start to cry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I promise, I’ll be good.”

He finds he likes your tears a lot less when he hasn't caused them. He crouches down in front of you. The blood dried in your hair and soaking your shirt is enough of a reminder of what must have happened right before he found you. “Shit, sweetheart, I didn’t think about it. C’mere.” He pulls you in, and you let him wrap his arms around you while you cry.

Later, you’ll look back on moments like that and what comes after, and wonder why you don’t care more. Why it’s okay when it’s Joel. Why it didn’t even occur to you to try to take his gun when it’s just the two of you out here, in the middle of fucking nowhere, with no one around to avenge him.

It’s not a hard question to answer, but it’s a hard answer to admit.

When you’ve calmed a little, he stands back up. He’s scowling, brow furrowed. It’s not a good omen, but there’s nothing to do but settle back onto your knees and wait.

He shakes his head. “I think we gotta do it, sweetheart. Gotta erase it from your mind. Should only be me you think about when you’re down there.”

It’s not a surprise, really. You had known, when he found you at the hunter’s mercy, that you’d pay for it somehow. For getting yourself in that situation after everything he does to protect you.

So, even though a few more tears slip free, you open your mouth, tongue out, and wait.

“Knew you were still my good girl,” he says, and grabs you. He gets his cock out and holds you there, two inches from the thick, drooling tip.

It's hard not to fight, at first. You have to take tattered breaths through your open mouth. But it helps, somehow, that he doesn't take his eyes off you.

You hate that he’s right. You hate that the longer you kneel here, forced to relive this morning, that you feel better. You’re not scared. It’s Joel. And he didn’t let that man hurt you, wouldn’t let him keep hurting you in your mind.

After a few more minutes, your traitorous brain sees nothing more than his hand around his cock and how the same hand had been wrapped around the knife, had slit the hunter's throat. You’re desperate for it. You beg, and he grins.

“See? Nice ‘n easy. Alright, go ahead.” He lets go completely. For now, at least. He usually likes to fuck your face to finish, no matter how it starts.

You swallow him down, pushing until you choke and struggling to stay there. You give him your gratitude the best way you know how, the way he’s trained you to. You only pull off for a moment to ask permission to use your hands, which he grants you.

You wrap one around his thigh for leverage, pulling yourself closer and holding tight. You roll his balls with the other, squeezing gently and caressing. It’s wet and noisy, but you’ve long since shed any embarrassment about sucking him off.

He was mean, but he wasn’t stupid. He didn’t humiliate you about the things he wanted you to do with fervor. And he liked you begging and desperate for his cock.

He only holds you down at the end, when he cums down your throat. When he lets go, he steps back and looks at you.

“If somethin’ like that ever happens again, if anyone else tries to touch you, you bite ‘em.” He wipes spilled cum from the corner of your lip with his thumb and pushes it inside your mouth. “You bite their fuckin’ prick off if you can. They’ll make enough noise that I’ll be able to find you.”

He withdraws his thumb, and his face turns to stone. “Not that it’ll happen, ‘cause you’re never leaving the goddamn house again.”

Your face falls, but you nod.

“Speaking of which, sweetheart. You have somethin' to make up to me still. Now, I don’t want to punish you. You’ve had a hard day.”

The pause is bait, but you don’t fall for it. You don’t whine or thank him, not yet. The glint in his eye tells you he’s not really sparing you.

“I think, instead, you need to learn a lesson.”

There it is. Lessons and punishments weren’t very distinguishable—to you, at least, since they usually ended up with you crying.

“What lesson do you think you need to learn, sweetheart?”

“I shouldn’t wander off.” You keep your voice quiet, head lowered, and hold still. If he thinks you’re already halfway there, he might go easy on you.

Or not.

“And why’d you wander off?”

“Because I—you were—”

“Spit it out, sweetheart.”

“Because you were, y’know, using the bathroom.”

“You mean takin’ a piss out in the open.”

“Yeah.”

“You scared of seeing a little piss? ‘Cause I know ya ain’t scared of my dick.”

“It’s private, I just—”

“No such thing with you and me, honey. You kissed that goodbye a long time ago. You’re just spoiled at home.”

Oh no. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault, sweetheart. I spoiled ya. We’re just gonna have to get you used to it.”

You can tell when he decides what to do. His lips curl at the corner, and he strokes your cheek, so you know you’re in for it.

“Tell ya what. We can do it right now. Seems like the perfect place.”

You can’t say you’d ever have called a Burger King bathroom the perfect place for anything, even peeing. But he seems very pleased with the irony.

“Where do you want it, sweetheart? In your cunt?” He’s watching you too intently. “On your tits? In your mouth?”

You try to stop it, but you press your lips together sharply, stomach clenching.

“Bingo. You got it, sweetheart.”

You think about begging, but nauseatingly, it’s the best of the choices he gave you. The other two would leave you soaked all the way home.

He taps your lips. “Open up.”

You take a deep breath and force yourself to obey. Your muscles fight you, some part of you still sane enough to scream out against his treatment, but you win in the end.

Or, at least, Joel wins.

You look up at him. He’s full-out smirking now, not bothering to hide his excitement. You wonder if he’s actually turned on by pissing in you or if it’s just the power and humiliation.

Your bet’s on the second, otherwise, he’d have done it by now.

You know you're right when the next order comes.

“Touch your clit.”

“What?”

“Don’t talk back. Do as you’re fuckin’ told. I want you to rub your little clit while you drink my piss.”

You choke back a small sob and slide your hand down your sweatpants. Nausea swirls, and you start to breathe rapid and shallow.

He cups your cheek in his broad, rough palm, pleased when you obey. He pulls his cock back out and sets the tip on your extended tongue, leaving it there for a moment to watch your eyes widen, and your muscles tremble with the effort of holding still.

You’re still working at your clit, fingers rubbing hard as you try to concentrate on the pleasure. He rewards you by pushing his cock further into your mouth before he fills it, saving you the effort of struggling to swallow and sparing you from the strongest of the taste.

When he pulls back out, you sob freely. He crouches down and removes your hand from your cunt to replace it with his own. You’re wet enough that he dips three fingers right into you and grinds the heel of his hand against your clit.

“I got you, sweetheart. It’s okay. You did good. Go ahead and cum.”

And you do. You deny Joel nothing. And when you’re pleasantly dizzy after three orgasms, he pulls his hand out and sucks your juices off his fingers, groaning.

He stands up before reaching a hand to you to pull you up.

“Alright, let’s get goin’ home. I ain’t fuckin’ you on the floor here.”

We didn’t even find any books, you sulk in the privacy of your brain.

Except Joel was right. You have no privacy. When he glances at you, he knows. “Whatever you’re thinkin’, I suggest ya stop thinkin’ it real quick.”

The next time he returns from a raid, he tosses you a beat-up copy of “The Hobbit.”

*title from "Run Boy Run" by Woodkid, which I listened to on repeat while writing this, if you're looking for an authentic experience lol

[vbecker10]

My Best Friend...

Part 2 of 2 (Part 1 here)

Pairing: Loki x plus size female reader (y/n)

Warnings: angst (of course), self depreciating thoughts, feeling inadequate, issues with self image, low self worth... but I promise lots of fluff - let me know if I forgot anything 💚

Summary: What you thought would be a relaxing girls night quickly turns into an interrogation by Nat and Wanda about your non-existent relationship with Loki. After denying you are anything other then friends for as long as you can, you finally tell them how you really feel about him... and why you know he will never feel the same. The night goes from bad to worse when you realize Loki overheard you talking to them and you try to hide from him.

A/N: I know I promised this would be all fluff but you should know not to listen to me lol also... I know this part got really long, I didn't want to make it three parts though

Tag List: A lot of people asked to be tagged in the second part of this which is amazing but I'm not sure if you want to be tagged in my other Loki fics as well so please let me know 💚

Dividers by: @harlequin-hangout

You leave the common room in a hurry and head down one long hallway then another. Stopping short at the end of the hall, you realize in your haste to get away from Loki and your friends, you've gone in the wrong direction. Instead of going towards the elevators so you could make your escape from the Tower, you found yourself at the library. You curse under your breath and wonder how you could be this careless. Turning around slowly, you know the only way to get to the elevators is to go back the way you came.

Your phone vibrates as you stand in front of the tall door, deciding if you should go in and try to hide here for the night or go back and risk running into Nat and Wanda or worse, Loki. Checking your phone, you see 10 new messages in your group chat as well as a missed call from both Wanda and Nat. Your finger hovers over the chat but you don't open it, you know they are worried about you but you can't talk to anyone right now. You just want to pretend the whole night never happened.

Turning off your phone, you take a deep breath then push open the door to the library. Wandering slowly through the large room, you make your way up one aisle of books and down another. You try not to think of how much the space reminds you of Loki but it is nearly impossible to keep him out of your thoughts. You make your way towards the back of the library, the part that reminds you of him the most. When you reach the last aisle you can't help but pause, remembering the last time you were here with him.

One day last week, Loki and you had made plans to get takeout and watch the final few episodes of a TV show you had both become overly invested in. He hadn't responded to your text about what he wanted to order so you went to his room but he wasn't there. You smiled to yourself, knowing exactly where he would be hiding as you headed down to the library. He would spend hours reading in the furthest corner with a cup of tea forgotten about but kept warm by his magic. Everyone on the team knew he was not to be interrupted when he was there, it was his escape after a difficult mission or a disagreement with his brother. This rule didn't apply to you however, Loki had made it clear to you that you were always welcome.

When you found him, he was sitting on the end of one of the couches reading a thick leather bound book. It was easy to see how lost he was in the story, his eyes shifted back and forth as he read the words quickly before turning the page. You leaned against one of the shelves watching him silently, not wanting to disturb him. After a few moments, he looked up and saw you waiting for him. He closed the book and apologized for losing track of time, he had meant to reply to your message but he wanted to finish the chapter he was reading.

You laughed, "How many chapters ago was that?"

He opened the book again and began to flip backwards, closing it with a smirk, "Six."

You moved to sit next to him then you picked up the book from where he had set it on the table. "What's it about?" you asked curiously as you looked at the foreign words on the pages.

When he finished telling you about the book you were hooked and quickly asked if he could help you find a copy in English you could read. His face fell slightly at your request and he responded, "Unfortunately, it is one that I brought from my personal library on Asgard." He paused, noticing how disappointed you looked. After a moment he smiled and said, "I could read it to you if you'd like."

You shake the memory away, Loki is supposed to start reading the story to you tomorrow but that might never happen now. Your heart begins to pound in your chest as you hear the door to the library slowly open and close with a light thud. Staying completely still and silent, you wait for someone to speak but instead you hear heavy footsteps and know instantly they don't belong to Nat or Wanda, it's Loki.

"Y/N, are you in here?" he calls out from the front of the library.

At first you don't respond, hoping he will go away but then you hear him coming closer. You walk backwards until your back hits a wall and you slide down so you are sitting against it. You hear him come to a stop a few aisles from you and at first you are unsure what he is doing. You bite your lip anxiously but then you hear your own voice, it's your voicemail message. He groans in frustration as he hangs up without leaving a message. His footsteps begin again, still coming closer as he makes his way down the next aisle.

"Y/N?" he tries again, you can hear the concern in his voice while he looks for you. "I know you didn't leave the Tower," he says and you curse yourself again for having made a wrong turn.

"Please... just go away Loki," you finally respond and his movement stops.

"Can we talk?" he asks over the shelves of books. You shake your head even though you know he can't see you. "I just need to know you are ok," he says.

"I'm fine," you answer with a sniffle as you wipe your eyes. You hadn't realized you had begun crying again.

He sighs, "I don't need to be the God of Lies to know that isn't true." He waits to see if you will answer and when you don't he starts to walk towards you again.

His footsteps become louder and slower when he reaches the aisle you are hiding in. He doesn't say anything and you don't look up, still hoping he will leave but you know now he won't. Instead you feel him sit next to you on the ground and gently place one arm around you, his hand slowly moving up and down your upper arm. You can't help but lean into him, allowing him to pull you closer.

Your mind wanders back to the only time you had ever hugged Loki in the six months you've known each other. A few days after you had begun talking everyday he had to leave for a mission and was gone for a little over a week. The data retrieval mission was ultimately labeled a success despite the intel being outdated and Loki getting injured. Thankfully, it was a shallow wound and he healed before the jet landed at the compound but that didn't stop you from worrying about him. You hadn't meant to hug him but the minute you saw him, you ran up to him and wrapped your arms around him tightly, telling him you were glad he was back. For an agonizingly long second, he didn't hug you back and you thought you had done something wrong but then his tall frame relaxed and he leaned down to hug you back. You could have stayed like that forever, closing your eyes as you pressed your cheek to his chest. Suddenly his phone began to ring and his hand left your back so he could talk to whichever woman he was supposed to see that weekend. As soon as he answered the call, you let go of him and walked quietly to your office, not looking back to see if he noticed you had gone.

Your memory caused you to shift uncomfortably and Loki loosened the gentle hold he had of you, allowing you to pull away. You look away from him and say again, "I'm fine, you don't have to stay."

"You are not fine and I'm not leaving," he says in a soothing voice as he touches your cheek lightly, wiping away your tears. "We can talk or we can sit here in silence all night, it is up to you," he tells you and you nod at the choices.

You sniffle and clear your throat before asking, "How... how much did you hear Loki?"

He rubs his hands together slowly, a gesture you know he only does when he is anxious, "I heard Wanda bring up Exhibit B and... I'm sorry I know I should have left, I did not plan on interrupting your girls night but I was curious." Your mouth falls open in disbelief, you had hoped he only heard the end of your rant about being in love with him, but he had heard almost everything the three of you talked about. You sit in silence next to him, not sure what to say so he continues. "Rogers and I completed our mission early and I only went to the common room to let you know I was back. I wanted to see you for just a moment, I've missed you so much the last two days," he says.

You look up at him, your mind trying to register what he had said. Loki had never told you he missed you before, even when he had been away on longer missions.

"I have to admit, I thought it was a bit silly that Natasha and Wanda were so adamant that we were dating in secret because-" he starts to explain.

"Because you would obviously never date me," you interrupt him without thinking. "Because you wouldn't want to be with someone who looked like me," you say as you cross your arms over your chest and look down. "I know, you only date tall, skinny, beautiful women and I am not one of them, it was pathetic of me to even pretend you might be vaguely interested in me."

"No, Y/N, that's not why," he says firmly but he can tell you aren't listening to him. "Please, look at me love."

The pet name is almost too much for you at the moment, you get up from the floor as quickly as you can without saying a word. You take a few steps away from him but stop when you feel his fingers close around your wrist. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I ever said anything," you whisper as you look at the ground. "I should have just kept my stupid feelings to myself, I've ruined everything."

Loki pulls on your wrist slightly causing you to turn towards him as he walks closer to you. He stands directly in front of you, his other hand strokes your cheek then follows your jawline until he can gently lift your chin. You look up at him and he smiles in return then suddenly your heart begins to race as you realize Loki is closing the distance between your lips and his. He kisses you softly, his hand never leaving your chin while his other hand lets go of your wrist and settles on your lower back.

When his lips leave yours, you look up at him in utter shock and he chuckles lightly, "Can I speak now?" All you can do is nod as you search for words. "The reason I thought it was silly, is because if we were dating," he says with a smirk, "I would never keep it a secret. I would want everyone to know that you are mine and I am yours." You stare at him still not able to form a proper sentence.

"Do you know why I never go on dates anymore?" he asks after a moment of silence passes between you.

You shrug, finally able to speak again as he removes his hand from your chin but not your back, "Not really, it was right after we started hanging out. We never talked about it but... I just assumed you were tired of Steve and Tony telling you to slow down before you slept with every woman in New York City or because Fury would get really angry when your dates ended up in the tabloids."

"I would need to value the opinion of the three of them if either of those were the real reason," he says and you look at him confused.

"I'm not sure why then," you admit.

"I stopped going out because I had no need of them, I found someone I wanted to be with for more than just one night," he tells you. "Do you remember the first night we spent time together, just the two of us?" You nod and he smiles. "Gods, you were so adorably nervous when you asked me if I wanted to watch a movie with you. I never told you this but I was looking forward to it so much, I forgot to cancel my date that night. I had several very angry text messages when I finally checked my phone the next morning."

Before you can stop yourself you ask, "Wait, you want me to believe that you were so excited to watch a movie with me, you literally forgot to text a super model back?"

He corrects you, "I'm not sure if that one was a model or an actress, they all blurred together after a while and I honestly couldn't tell you the name of the movie we watched either." He pauses, taking note of your growing confusion. "Y/N, I had been wanting to get to know you outside of our few work interactions since you started at SHIELD and when you asked me to spend time with you, I was thrilled but also a bit shocked."

You look down at your shoes and whisper, "Nat dared me."

"She what?" he asks.

"Nat knew I had a crush on you so she dared me to talk to you more," you tell him. "She suggested we watch a movie but I told her you would be busy with more interesting things and there was no way you would ever agree to it... but then you did and I kinda panicked. I almost didn't show up for the movie but Nat practically dragged me to the common room. I'm glad she did though, cause otherwise we never would have gotten to be friends," you say with a laugh but your smile fades when you see he isn't smiling back. "Loki?" you ask.

"I've wanted to be more than your friend for so long Y/N but no matter how hard I try, you never let me in. Even something as simple as wanting to give you a compliment. You would come back with a sarcastic comment or a self-deprecating joke to bring yourself down. I don't like how you talk about yourself, love," he says.

"That's my defense mechanism," you tell him. "I- I thought you were just a shameless flirt because of the stories I've heard from Thor and the fact that you call everyone darling. When you say I'm beautiful or perfect I just- I would make jokes to remind myself that I wasn't either of those things and it was just your personality."

"But you are Y/N both of those things and more," he tells you and you can feel a blush creep across your cheeks. "Calling women darling is nothing more than an old habit," he touches your warm cheeks and you look up at him. "You are the only one I call love," he reminds you with a smile.

You can't help but giggle at the pet name he uses so frequently with you, "I had noticed that but I thought-"

"Stop," he says softly. "No more excuses," he urges and you nod.

"Y/N", he says seriously, "You are everything I have ever wanted. I love that I can spend hours on end talking to you or we can simply sit together and read in comfortable silence. It makes me feel lucky to know you worry about me when I am on missions and you are here, waiting for me to return. We have so many similar interests but you still manage to teach me new things constantly. I can't tell you how much I enjoy seeing this city with you every weekend and I wish I could bring you to see Asgard one day. I want to spend every minute I can with you," he pauses to chuckle lightly, "That's part of why I insist on you staying the night so often. I sleep better when you are the last person I see at night and the first person I see in the morning. You are caring and quirky, intelligent, sweet and you are perfect."

You stand in front of Loki in silence as your heart feels like it is about to explode with excitement. You smile from ear to ear, having never in your wildest dreams thought this was possible.

He puts his arms around you and pulls you flush against him. "I cannot believe you thought something as trivial as your weight would keep me from falling in love with you," he says.

You can't help but shrug, "I guess it sounds kinda silly when you say it like that."

He smiles, one hand firmly on your lower back while his other hand runs up and down your arm lightly. You look up at him, your arms around his waist. "I want to date you Y/N," he says simply.

"I would really, really like that," you tell him and he laughs at how excited you sound. He leans down to kiss you again and this time you kiss him back. When he breaks the kiss, his fingers gently follow the chain of your necklace until he is holding the charm in his hand.

"This is very pretty, my love, but I would like to make one small adjustment to it. Would you mind?" he asks and you nod, curious to see what he will do to it.

He closes his fingers around the small gold flower and a green glow spreads over his knuckles. When he opens his hand a few seconds later, the clear stone that was in the center of the flower is now a deep emerald green, the same shade as Loki's cape. You smile and say, "Green is my favorite color."

He chuckles, "I know, it's one of the many things I love about you." You kiss his cheek and thank him, he knew you had wanted the necklace with a green stone but the artist had sold out of those before you could buy one.

You take Loki's hand and bite your lip, "Um, so it's pretty late."

He smiles, "It is."

"Should I stay with you tonight?" you ask Loki.

"I think that would be a fantastic idea," he answers.

The two of you walk quietly through the Tower, back to his room still holding hands tightly. He opens the door to his apartment and lets you walk in first. As soon as he closes the door he puts one arm around your waist and pulls you close to him again. He leans down to kiss you then suddenly he picks you up. You giggle in surprise and put your arms around his neck as he carries you through the living room towards his bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He walks towards the bed then turns so he can fall onto it backwards with you on top of him.

As soon as his back hits the mattress you pull back from the kiss and instinctively try to move off of him. He lets go of you with one arm but keeps the other around you loosely. He moves your hair behind your ear and is concerned by your sudden change in expression.

"Have I done something wrong? We can stop, I didn't mean to go too far," he says in a worried tone.

"No, no, it's nothing you did," you say as you look away from him. "It's just... I'm too big to be on top of you like this. My ex used to complain about it, he said I was too heavy and-"

Loki kisses your cheek softly, stopping you mid-sentence. He makes sure you are looking into his eyes and he smiles. "Y/N... I carried you here," he says. "And I laid down first so I would be under you."

You blink slowly as you look at him beneath you, "You did."

"Which means..." he starts, hoping you will finish his thought.

"Which means... you don't think I'm too heavy?" you ask slowly.

"My love, I don't know many things about your ex but I do know that he never deserved you if that is how he spoke to you," he says. "You don't need to worry about that pathetic mortal anymore. You belong to a... how did you put it? Ah yes, a freaking prince and a god," he laughs a bit and you can't help but smile when he says you belong to him. "You know, I think I might have a talk with my brother about having my official title adjusted."

You giggle and bury your face in the crook of his neck, finally relaxing and allowing your body to settle onto Loki's. He hugs you tightly and whispers, "I need you to remember something for me Y/N, I don't love you because of your body or in spite of it, I love you wholly and completely, every part of you because you are perfect." You nod, taking in his words as he runs his fingers through your hair. "I will not let anyone speak ill of my queen," he tilts your chin so you are looking at him, "And that includes you. I want you to tell me if these ugly thoughts return to that beautiful mind of yours."

"I promise," you tell him quietly and he guides your lips back to his.

"We should probably get some sleep," Loki says and you agree. "Should I sleep on the couch or..." he pauses. You don't move from where you are laying and mumble with your eyes closed. "I have no idea what you said," he laughs.

"I want to cuddle," you say clearer, picking your head up a bit.

"Cuddles it is," he agrees with a smile.

The two of you get under the covers after quickly putting on clothes to sleep in. Loki lays on his back and you curl up with your head on his chest again, listening to his heartbeat as you close your eyes.

He kisses the top of your head while his fingers trace small circles on your back. "You know," he says quietly, "There is something else Nat and Wanda were right about.

"Hmm?" you mumble, barely listening to him as you drift off to sleep.

"Well, it does seem silly for you to keep paying rent on your apartment when you could just live here with me," he says.

You sit up just as he shuts the light off. "Goodnight love," he says with a smirk.

Please let me know if you want to be added or taken off the tag list 💚💚

@michelleleewise @soubi001 @ace-of-gay @tessathechild @misunderstoodself @coldnique @lokiprompts @thomase1 @mochie85 @fi-recs-fics @huntress-artemiss @sititran @xorpsbane @kkdvkyya @lokisgoodgirl @harlequin-hangout @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @kats72 @avoliax @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @loopsisloops @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @high-functioning-lokipath @psychospore @dukes2581 @buttercupcookies-blog @animnerd @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @laufeyson-16 @lonadane @loki-laufeyson-1054 @pics-and-fanfics @km-ffluv @coffeeorsomething-irl @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @slytherclaw1227 @lokixryss @lokidokieokie @unlucky-number-13 @asuni921 @currish-rosewolfe @elizabethmidnight2017 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @sunnirealities @myworldgoesboomz @f2mhg2l2rta @schabouwelijk

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💚💚

[naavispider]

Chase

A little prompt from @hyperfixatedfandomer: Final part of this song is so “Spider rips out the tracker and runs into the darkness of Pandora while Quaritch is on his heels like a feral thanator in a horror novie” coded

The song in question:

1.3k, canon typical action, violence, swearing

Spider had never heard a louder sound than that of his thundering heartbeat banging against his eardrums. His breathing came in gasps as the stitch in his chest throbbed painfully. He couldn’t stop running.

A monster was behind him.

Every split second counted in the race for his life. The adrenaline coursing through his veins powered him onwards without his full awareness or knowledge of anything else going on around him. Branches scraped past his arms and face but he couldn’t feel the pain they left behind. Faster, faster…

He could feel rather than hear Quaritch catching up to him. Any moment now enormous hands could close around him, pulling him down and the terror of it kept his feet hitting the ground at a dizzying rhythm.

He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t slow down.

The first few seconds of his escape had been a blur. Things had happened too fast for him to be able to remember clearly - but what he did know was this: he’d seized the opportunity when the recom Colonel had turned his back on Spider on the trail. He’d tensely removed the mask that he relied upon so dearly for oxygen, and fumbled around in a panic induced state to wrench the tracker from the plastic casing. He didn’t know how, but he’d managed it. Almost as soon as he’d realized his triumph, Quaritch turned back to look for him, just in time to see Spider hurl the tracker as far away as possible, throw the mask back onto his face and high tail it into the trees.

He’d lost track of how long it had been since then. Seconds? Minutes? An hour? He couldn’t afford to waste time working it out. He leapt from the floor onto a huge fallen tree trunk, barely stopping to get his footing before he was off, the ground now several feet below him and all kinds of plants hitting his mask and getting caught in his hair.

“Spider!” He heard an angry roar from somewhere behind.

He wasn’t going to stop. This was his chance. If he could lose Quaritch now, he’d be free. He could even find his way back to High Camp eventually - he was sure of it.

“STP RIGHT THERE!!” Quaritch roared.

He didn’t stop to look around, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He sounded close, almost within reach…

The ghosts of Quaritch’s fingertips brushed against the small of his back, and he let out a shriek of fear as he pushed himself on. But his brain made a fatal miscalculation when judging where to place his foot. In his panic, he slipped to the left and he couldn’t regain his balance before it was too late. He was falling, all the way down to the ground and landing clumsily on his knees.

“Stay down, Spider!”

He gasped and picked himself up as quickly as he could - but it wasn’t quick enough. Quaritch had only been one or two strides behind him. In a moment of terror that brought the whole world to a standstill, huge blue arms came around him, pulling him back down to the earth, back down to defeat…

He cried out as he rolled on to his back, a rage filled recombinant on top of him, pinning him down. He barely recognised the face as that of his father. Quaritch’s eyes were wide and distorted with fury, and Spider was sure that for a split second, they turned red.

He didn’t know where the idea came from - he was barely aware of his body’s actions - but before he knew it he had brought his knee up to kick Quaritch in the chest, and at the same time flung his head forward to bash his mask against the Colonel’s nose. The simultaneous assault was enough for Quaritch to loosen his hold on Spider’s left arm, and he seized the opportunity to claw at Quaritch’s eyeball.

“FUCK,” Quaritch screamed as he pulled away, and in the heat of the moment Spider was able to wriggle backwards on his elbows and flip over, scrambling out of Quaritch’s hold on the forest floor.

“No you don’t!” roared Quaritch, blinded not only by the injury Spider had left him but also with anger. He lunged for Spider’s leg, which Spider kicked out against as soon as he felt the vice-like grip close around his calf.

It wasn’t enough.

Spider knew it.

Na’vi were simply too big and too strong, and now that Quaritch had a hold of him he felt his heart plummet through the ground and out the other side of Pandora. Eywa, help him.

“Come here!” Quaritch grunted, dragging Spider back by the ankle. Spider fought with everything he had. Clinging onto anything within his reach and kicking out as hard as he could with both legs, he scrambled for purchase on the wet floor.

“Get off!” he screamed through his shocked throat, knowing that physically he couldn’t fight anymore, having to rely on words alone in some desperate hope that the monster would release him. The fear had well and truly sunk into his soul, absorbed by his very bones. He would never forget this fear.

“Let me go!” he screamed again, his final ploy for escape as he hopelessly slid against the ground towards Quaritch.

“Oh yeah?” Quaritch leered over him from above, the bloody cut above his eye giving him a manic expression. “You’ll stay where you’re damn put!”

Spider was too terrified to say anything else - the game was up. It was over. He froze, capable of nothing more than staring up into the eyes that had haunted him since they first met. He was glad he was wearing a mask because it felt like the aura that Quaritch was radiating was enough to burn the skin from his face.

“Damn you!” Quaritch shouted, shaking Spider where he had his wrists pinned on the ground.

If the recom didn’t relent soon, the pressure he was exerting on Spider’s small hands would surely be enough to break them.

The hisses from Spider’s mask were coming quick and heavy, so depleted of oxygen was he, but he still had enough left in him to hiss at Quaritch so ferally that even Neytiri would be proud.

“That all you got to say for yourself? I’m done trying to be nice. I should just throw you back to Ardmore…” Quaritch easily transferred both of Spider’s hands into one of his, while reaching for a pair of snapcuffs and securing them around Spider’s wrists. He seemed to think for a moment, before pulling Spider to standing and then throwing him over his shoulders.

“Stop!” Spider protested, but it was like pleading with a rhinoceros for all the good it did him. Instead, he thrashed as harshly as he could against Quaritch’s hold. “What are you gonna do? I’m gonna get away eventually!”

Quaritch ignored him totally. With too much force than was necessary, he jammed Spider’s feet together over the other side of his shoulders and secured them with another set of cuffs.

“Let me GO!” he howled, realizing he was as powerless as a fish out of water, draped over the 9 foot tall recom’s back.

“Why did I ever bother?” Quaritch fumed as he made the long way back to the trail where the rest of the squad were waiting. “Do you realize what you’re doing? Don’t you see that I’m your best bet right now?”

“You think you’re better than Bridgehead?” Spider snapped back. “I’d take a thousand needles to the brain before I trust you!”

Quaritch said nothing to this.

A moment later when Wainfleet came into view, racing through the trees to find them. “Colonel! You got him… good.” He was out of breath, and Spider hadn’t realized how far they’d run or how quickly, if Wainfleet was only now catching up.

“Yeah, I got him,” Quaritch growled. “Take him, I’ve had enough.”

Spider was roughly pulled off the Colonel’s shoulders and passed over to Wainfleet like a sack of potatoes.

“And don’t let him wiggle. He’s slippery.”

[beardedmrbean]

Horrifying footage captured the moment a young fitness fanatic working out at a gym in Indonesia fell to her death after she stumbled backward off a treadmill and tumbled out of a third-story window.

Video taken from a security camera shows the 22-year-old woman on a treadmill at a gym in Pontianak, West Kalimantan, Tuesday moments before she tragically fell to her death.

Footage shows the woman working out near the end of a long line of treadmills inside the packed gym before she stops and allows the machine’s belt to move her backward.

After she’s dropped off the machine, the woman suddenly stumbles backward, straight toward an open window directly behind the gym equipment she was just using.

The woman can be seen in the clip attempting to grasp onto the window frame before plummeting down three stories.

After the fall, the fitness fanatic was rushed to the hospital with serious head injuries, but doctors were unable to save her life.

An autopsy report showed that she had suffered extensive bruising and lacerations to her head.

The deceased woman has not been named, but local reports say she was just 22-years-old, according to Newsflash.

She also had gone to the gym with her younger sibling and boyfriend, who had asked her to work out with him on the second floor but she told him she wanted to use the treadmill on the top level, according to local reports.

She had only been working out for 30 minutes when she fell, local media reported.

The Pontianak City Police’s Criminal Investigation Unit is currently investigating.

Police noted that the position of the treadmill, only about two feet from the window, created a “dangerous” situation.

The gym issued an apology to the woman’s family and closed its business for three days following the fatal fall.

[coconutredbulllover]

this morning my cat cameup behind me and tripped me so i fell down rhe stairs and ive been walking around feeling bruised all day 😫

thank God i fell backwaeds onto my ass instead of forward onto my face🫠

i fell backwards ghen went thump thump thump down the steps

😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

[kemakoshume]

Beneath the Wisteria Blooms ✾ — tengen x black!f!reader x rengoku (pt. 4)

warnings; hehehe here's the smut; MMF threesome, foreplay, pussy eating, multiple positions, rimming (w fingers), anal play, soft/slow sex, talking during sex, laughing during sex, finger sucking, f!pronouns and pet names.

a/n; hello loves! it's been a while :') sorry for the wait. i hope 9.6k and all the new warnings make up for it.

just a heads-up: i don't pull punches when it comes to MMF threesomes. i write my characters to all enjoy the process and have a good time experimenting. i also think it's a little lame when threesome content acts like the men are allergic to each other, so this has spicy tengen x kyojie interactions in it as well. i highly recommend checking out the [pinterest board] for this if you, like me, need visuals sometimes. enjoy! ꨄ︎

~ [ch one; ch two, ch three, ch four, ch five] ~ also crossposted on ao3 in case you prefer reading long(er) fics over there.

The night continued at a fork in the road. Down the dimly lit pathway of your forest-filled backyard, you found yourself at the crossing that diverged into three routes. One led back up to the home, one led down to the lake, and another led off to the large guest home meant for your slayer corps members, not far from the hot spring.

“Are you sure you don’t require assistance, maiden?” Tengen asked, a pleasant smirk on his face as he watched you balance Ayra against your own body, holding up the half-conscious—disastrously inebriated—girl to keep her from falling. The alcohol affected her harder as it marinated in the depths of her stomach, resulting in both you and the hashira deciding to go your separate ways to get settled.

You huffed out a laugh, hoisting the girl up and grabbing hold of her wrist to secure her arm around your shoulders. “No, I’m sure I’ll survive. I’ve handled much heavier drunks in my day,” you said, standing straight to steady Ayra’s taller frame. “You two go bathe. I’ll get our lovely boozer here settled, and then I’ll come ‘round. Should you still require my assistance?”

Your voice tapered off into a whisper that felt foreign in your throat. The subtly probing words held the faintest hint of insecurity despite all of your coy smiles and rejections of Ayra’s meddlesome assumptions throughout the night. The stirring of butterflies buried in your belly were undoubtedly… nerves. Despite all of the flirtations and glances exchanged, your words bled your desire for confirmation. You needed to feel that these two exceptional men—the strongest in your land—desired your company. You needed to feel the weight of their lust for you in the palm of your hand.

“Maiden.” Kyojuro stepped forward into your space, cupping his hand to caress your cheek with an air of quiet confidence that juxtaposed his natural—zestful—cadence. “May I kiss you?”

Your eyes flicked back and forth between warm orbs of molten color, smitten by the attentiveness present within them as he looked at you. You nodded on impulse as you fell under the guidance of his touch. His fingers teased your jawline as he lifted your chin, holding you steadily in a mutual gaze that felt far too longing for strangers.

“You may do more than just kiss me tonight if you wish.”

He grinned, wasting no time to meet you there in the middle—a hum snuggled deep in his throat as his lips pressed against yours. You could taste the bitter sweetness of saké on his tongue and smell the faintest warmth wafting off his skin. The crickets silenced as you fell into the kiss, open-mouthed as his lips parted to deepen it.

“Wheet-woo.” Ayra whistled, causing you to flinch away from Kyojuro—though you didn’t get very far with Tengen’s immovable frame suddenly pressed against your back.

“Looks like someone’s awake,” Tengen said, looking down at you both. “I came to catch her in case our head maiden was too distracted and let her fall.”

You scoffed, meekly smacking the hashira’s firm chest with your hand. “I would never. She’s in safe hands.”

“Safe hands I am in, indeed,” Ayra said, her head lolling backward to thud against the sound hashira’s chest. A smile plastered on her drunk face as she looked around at the three of you. “I let myself go to the darkness for two minutes, and this is what you do without me? My heart aches, sister. I bet this one is especially wicked with his tongue,” she said, winking at Tengen.

You rolled your eyes with a smile, ignoring the vibrations of Tengen’s chuckling against your back. You cleared your throat, pulling Kyojuro in for a soft peck before moving to add some distance between you again. You placed your hand against Tengen’s stomach and pushed, just enough for the hashira to get the hint. He moved, placing a kiss on the crown of your head as he went.

The fog of desire muddling your brain dissipated with the added space, though the stimuli ceased to go away as Ayra nuzzled her nose into the curls at the crown of your head. You batted her away when her snuggles turned into kisses.

“You’re drunk, Ayra. No men for you tonight. No me, either!” You giggled, supporting her with your weight again as the hashira moved to stand a respectable distance away from you, looking on with soft eyes and fondness laced into their grins as they watched you.

“Boo,” she pouted, sucking her teeth when she realized resistance was futile. “If you can walk tomorrow, I’ll be sorely disappointed.

You chuckled, supporting the weight of Ayra’s skull with your hand as you bowed toward the two men. “Well then. I think that’s my queue to take our fair maiden to bed. Enjoy the baths. I’ll be ‘round to bandage you up in a half hour.”

They bowed their heads deeply in return, showing respect equitable to your own.

“We look forward to your visit, maiden.”

“As do I, hashira.”

୨୧┈┈୨୧

“Why on Inari Ōkami’s green Earth would you let her drink this much?”

“Well, to be fair, Mistress, the alcohol was her idea. I was merely a bystander in this situa—”

“Spare me.”

Your Mistress paced the width of the tatami room, combing her fingers through the cascading length of ink-black hair running down her back. Finally, Arya laid in bed, tucked snugly into the airy cotton sheets by the woman whose eyes masqueraded as daggers.

“Just... gods.” Your mistress huffed, stomping one of her feet petulantly like Sura did when she didn’t get her way in some manner. “Please tell me she kept her composure in front of the hashira, at least. Miko, my heart can’t take this. Gaining their favor means everything for wisteria homes in the corps hierarchy. Their word could make or break us.”

You sighed at the nickname, knowing your Mistress only referred to you that way as a reminder of your duty and status in the home, even when the term wasn’t wholly accurate to you as a person anymore—namely, the part about being a virgin.

“Mistress.” You groaned the word, crossing the room to hold the woman by her shoulders. “The hashira were smitten by her, just as everyone else always is. She held onto her dignity well, and I swear our home’s reputation has exceeded their expectations. I will visit them in a bit to bandage some wounds and ensure they’re settled well. You have nothing to worry about, Mistress.”

Your Mistress stared at you with unimpressed eyes as the seconds ticked by, though she relented eventually. Her shoulders went slack when she sighed, squeezing your hands gently as she removed them from her shoulders. “Fine. Do your duties well. It only takes one slip-up to piss off men of their status. For all their good attributes—men are still men. They are never easily pleased.”

You nodded, trailing your Mistress as she sat down on the thick mat on the floor next to Ayra’s sleeping form.

“I can see the shake in your hands, Mother. Perhaps laying with your children will soothe your spirits.”

Your Mistress smiled, twirling the ends of Ayra’s long hair between her trembling fingers. “I may. I know you can handle the remaining duties just fine on your own, despite my nags.”

You hummed, peeking out the window behind you to trace the moon’s position in the sky. It had been at least twenty minutes or so since you and the men had gone your separate ways, and with every second that ticked by, eager anxiety grew more within the marrow of your bones.

“Where are the children?” you said absentmindedly, fighting to keep the intentions behind your words from slipping. It always put your mind at ease to know that the house girls were all snug in their beds, out of earshot, when you went off to tend to soldiers of your choosing.

Typically, you would check their wing of the home yourself to ensure they were well tucked in and sleeping, but the time to be present for the hashira neared, and you feared you wouldn’t quite have the time.

You’d long passed the inconvenience of shame regarding your exploits. However, even with confidence laced into your choices, there was still a part of you that strongly valued the opinions of your girls, as well as their purity and the option of choice when it came to learning such adult things.

In your heart, the young girls who inhabited your home were just as much your children as your Mistress’s. All ages—infant or teen—they were yours. You had a duty to honor their youth, and the sanctity of their innocence, for as long as life’s circumstances allowed. They would all be educated on the topic when the time came, and it was coming up dangerously soon for a few of them; however, they did not need to see (or hear) you engaging in such practices to be educated on the topic.

No. Absolutely not.

Your Mistress peeked up at you through her long onyx lashes with the faintest smile on her face. “The babies are asleep in the western wing on the second level. The older girls are gossiping amongst themselves in the second-level common room, though I did hear yawns, so I’m sure they’ll turn in soon enough. Why?” Your Mistress huffed, looking up again at you with maintained eye contact. “You’ve never asked me of their whereabouts when you’ve galavanted off to entertain our guests before. What’s changed?”

All at once, it felt as if the world had tilted too far and fallen off of its axis.

It was one thing to know, unspokenly, that your Mistress was at least somewhat aware of what you’d done, but it was another thing entirely to hear her confirm this truth with her own words. Rooted under the weight of her revelation and the crushing pressure of the now uncovered secret, you felt no older than a child—waiting with bated breath over your mother's reaction.

“You’ve known?”

Your Mistress rolled her eyes, a flippant scoff coming from her upturned lips. “Of course, I’ve known. I see and hear everything in this house, even things I undeniably wish I had not,” she said, exaggeratedly shuddering for emphasis. “What did you think I would assume happened to Ayra when she started walking around here like a wounded duck? Immediately after that boy with the meats was here, I might add. I may be barren—and a widow—my love, but I’m not clueless.”

You nodded as if you were in a daze, dizzy with overwhelming feelings as you processed her words. “I—of course. I just don’t understand. Why have you never…”

“It’s never felt right. The timing, I mean. I brought you up to know what all of your parts do and how to keep yourselves safe when you decide to use them. I’ve merely had faith that you’ve done right by my teachings. My only worry was the type of man you were choosing.” Your Mistress groaned, lifting herself off Ayra’s cot to relight a weakly flickering lantern.

“If word spread that the girls of this home will do anything with anyone solely because they wield a sword… that could ruin us. However, I’ve also seen the men you and Ayra have chosen to bed. To be fair, none of them have been particularly awful choices. They’ve all been far too young for me, but I will give you consolidation for not picking ugly or embarrassingly weak ones. I’m satisfied in my knowledge that you both have standards.”

“Mother!” You scoffed, playful indignance clear on your face as you listened to your Mistress speak so candidly.

“Oh, spare me the modesty. I am proud that you tend towards the strong, high-ranked, handsome ones. Yua seems enamored with the pretty ones; gods help me,” she said, her chuckle almost melodic as it slid past her tongue. She crossed the room, coming into your space to pull you into a hug before letting you go. She wrapped her hands around the back of your arms and held you firmly in her grasp while she spoke.

“Listen, my love. I know that—despite my nagging—neither you nor Ayra truly intend to marry, at least for now. Your priority is maintaining this house and the sanctity of our name; I love you for that. But, I also know that you need to enjoy your youth. Sowing your oats and enjoying your muliebrity. You are a woman now, my love; all grown up and bedding valiant strangers.”

You groaned, scrunching your face as your chin tilted towards the sky with protest falling from your lips.

“So,” she said, extending the word, “with that said, I have faith in the knowledge that I’ve raised you well, and I acknowledge that you are a woman now, my little dove. I’m of no moral grandstanding to tell you what you may do with your own body. I merely wish that you keep your dignity intact as a girl of the Arai name. You do not let them take advantage of you or pressure you to do what they wish of you solely because of their status. Do you hear me? They may be hashira, but no man is worth throwing away your pride.”

You nodded, pulling her back into a firm hug that felt like home as she kissed your temple. “I love you, Mother. Thank you for your blessings.”

She nodded as well, her voice notably tight as she returned the sentiment. “And I, you. Now then, go enjoy your evening with a hashira.” She paused, squinting her eyes to the side in contemplation. “Well, two hashira. I suppose. Be more mindful of your limits than Ayra, I beg. I can’t have two ducklings waddling around this place. Dorothea is at that age where she has questions; I would like to keep her image of you in tack for at least a little longer—until you can explain to her yourself.”

You nodded, agreeing with your Mistress. “I will speak with her in the coming days.”

“Good. Now, be off,” she said, shooing you towards the room's threshold. “The men won’t entertain themselves.”

A giggle slipped past your lips as you walked down the entrance steps, that familiar fluttering beneath your ribs coming back as you exited the room. You glanced back, blowing your Mother a kiss before descending into the night.

୨୧┈┈୨୧

The air felt sweet with the heat of promise as you sauntered off into your home’s backyard, soaking in the scent of pine wafting off of the tall trees and the sound of creatures beginning their days in the night as you grew closer to the hashira’s abode.

For all your fretting about being late for your meeting with the men, you stopped at your quarters to change clothes anyway, exchanging your white kimono for a loose-fitting, ankle-length black yukata. The fabric was woven intricately with delicate silk, making a beautiful canvas for the embroidered sakura petals scattered in a pattern. You tied it together with a simple red obe around your waist.

You also stopped in the kitchens to grab provisions—mainly morokyu, onigiri, and berries. Who was to know how long you would spend with the men? Perhaps a few hours, perhaps all night. It was better to be prepared than to come empty-handed. As your Mistress said, to be a good host meant to entertain.

The moon seemingly rose higher in the sky as you rounded the stone path, drawn to the spring by the sound of disturbed water. The spring was half-hidden through the opaque fog from the steam, though you knew your way well from the placement of lanterns above your head. As you neared the water’s edge, a dulcet laugh traveled through the moist sulfur-scented air. Soft chuckles—sweet and rich like hojicha hot chocolate in the wintertime—and the pleasant sound of skin smacking gently against skin mingled with it.

“Ah, I believe the maiden has finally made it down the path to join us, Kyojuro.”

You heard the sound hashira before you saw him, squinting to see through the dissipating fog as you listened to pinpoint his location. A strong arm wrapped around your waist from behind, while long fingers reached out from the clouds in front of you to take the basket from your arms.

“Our apologies for not waiting on you, maiden,” Tengen said, his voice deep as he pulled you against his damp chest. “The hot spring was too enticing for our sore bodies. We thought soaking for a bit may help keep us nimble and relaxed throughout the night.”

You tsked, allowing the men to crowd into your space. The thinning fog and close proximity exposed them; now, their faces, framed by long hair, and their torsos were visible beneath the lantern light. From the feeling of Tengen’s firm front against your back and the trail of golden hair visible on the lowest part of Kyojuro’s stomach, both men had clearly done away with their yukata—entirely—after bathing. Their bodies were flushed from the heat; all pink tones beneath tanned skin with red-tinted lips.

“I thought men of such power would be better with following directions,” you said, your brows high. “I was meant to bandage you before you dipped in the springs. What shall I do with you two now?”

The men exchanged a long glance; the look was filled with many words spoken despite being unsaid.

“You could soak with us?” Kyojuro suggested, grabbing your hand to pull you toward the water’s edge. Tengen mimicked a shadow with how closely he clung to your back. His bolstering presence was a comfort as much as it was a distraction.

“This water is magic, dear maiden,” the flame hashira continued. “It’s healed nearly all of our injuries—it wouldn’t be wise to waste your bandages. Indulge us in a swim instead. The temperature is divine.”

You sighed, already tepid as the heat of the volcanic spring bathed the outdoors with added warmth. The men being so close only increased the sensation.

“How am I to trust opinions on temperature from a flame?” you teased, letting the men cage you closer between their bodies. “The air alone feels mere degrees away from hell.”

Kyojuro laughed, truly amused by your banter. In truth, it wasn’t that hot. The summer was coming to a close, and the wind created a gentle breeze that dissipated the fog's thick—stifling—warmth. You could hear the smile in Tengen’s voice as he crouched lower against your back, undoing the bindings of your obe as he ran his hands down the length of your body.

“Perhaps feeling the breeze on your skin will negate the heat,” he said, his hands holding the loosened fabric closed as he stood straight again.

You placed your hand over his, entangling your fingers with his large digits just enough to loosen his grip, the motion ridding you of your clothing as the garment fell to the Earth’s floor. You forwent wearing anything underneath.

“Wow.”

You chuckled, plucking a scarf from the basket Kyojuro held by his side, making quick work of wrapping it around your hair to keep it away from the sulfur-scented water.

“Wow?” you said, a laugh bubbling in your chest. “Is that all either of you has to say?”

Tengen adjusted the head wrapping, then twisted the curls that hung around your face. “There aren’t enough words in all the languages combined to describe your beauty. It should be a sin for a woman so mesmerizing to walk the Earth. You deserve heaven, maiden.”

You smirked, placing your hand on Kyojuro’s lower belly to guide him back into the spring with the stone steps, sidestepping the basket as he placed it on the outer rocks. You intertwined your fingers with Tengen’s to keep hold of him close behind.

“That’s laying it on a bit thick, sound hashira. Is this how you wooed your wives?” you said, teasing. “Also, heaven? That would infer that I’m an angel. I much prefer this type of heat.”

You listened to the men's banter as Kyojuro taunted Tengen, commenting on his methods for flirtation. You engaged as well as you waded through the water, sighing in relief as the hot water molded around your body, wrapping your overworked muscles in soothing bliss.

“This is a Ginseng hot spring,” you said, giving the men your usual short spiel about the home’s history as you circled each other in the water. You told them the tale of the home’s origins before your Mistress came to own it, how your family came to be, and how much you’ve always adored the land. The hashira listened respectfully and engaged in your storytelling to a degree you didn’t expect.

“You’re very learned,” Tengen said, looking impressed. “If you weren’t a house maiden, you could have been a scholar. There are female scholars in the East.”

You scoffed, lightly pushing away from Tengen as he held your hand beneath the water’s surface. “I’m just recanting my lifework. That doesn’t require smarts. Your fellow hashira—Shinobu, I believe was her name—visited us a few years ago with her sister. They were smart. The younger sister informed us that the spring has ‘carbon dioxide’ infused into the water. She said that the element is why the water helps tremendously with muscle pain and wound healing. It’s not magic, just… science. It’s fascinating.”

Kyojuro smiled, swimming behind you lazily with his hands beneath your body, holding you afloat once you leaned back, even though you didn’t need the help. “Leave it to ‘Nobu and Kocho to influence women all the way across the country to lean on science. In a world of demons, no less.”

“They were quite influential,” you said, smiling at the fond memory. “The younger sister helped me better explain health-related matters to my girls. She taught us simple tonics and salves that have kept us all healthy, even Mistress, with her recent colds and shakes. Though, with Shinobu’s magic, it always passes. I’m thankful to you hashira, for more reasons than one.”

Kyojuro hummed, his energy suddenly much too enervated for the occasion.

“She also explained how the water aids so well with stimulating blood flow,” you said, refocusing the subject. “I can see that it has done its job well.”

There was dense fog all around you, though, within the water, it seemed to repel away. You climbed on top of an elevated rock beneath the water’s surface—your legs and waist barely submerged as you settled on the smooth white stone. From your position, you could clearly see the lines and curves of both men’s bodies as they waded in the clear water beneath you.

Tengen soon decided to join you on top of the rock, sliding behind you and pulling you into his lap, while Kyojuro settled at your feet, his bottom half still submerged in the spring while he rested his top half against your legs.

“That it has,” Tengen said, subtly pressing his length into your back. “Thank you for giving us the history of your home. We’ve heard things about this land—including the many Arai men and women who’ve owned it—but it’s always nice hearing these things from an intimate source. We meant it when we said that your house is legendary in the town we slayers call home.”

You smiled, letting Tengen wrap his arms around your stomach. “How long were you soaking before I made my way down? You’re both quite flushed. You’ll get dizzy if you stay in here for too long.”

Kyojuro looked bashful, lowering his head to hide his face behind the upturned fringe of his hair.

“What?” you said, looking up at Tengen for answers. “What am I missing?”

He shook his head softly, though the ill-contained smile on his face betrayed his attempt to downplay things. You scowled, raising your eyebrows in a way you’d learned from years of watching your Mistress. “Out with it,” tacitly expressed solely through your eyes.

Tengen sighed, flexing his abs to bend himself forward at the waist, taking you with him. He grabbed Kyojuro gently by the nape of his neck, sliding him up onto the rock with you to sit by your side. You turned in his lap, sitting sideways to watch the two as they looked at each other, glancing at you before joining their lips in a kiss. Kyojuro’s ears blushed red as the sound hashira coaxed open his mouth with his tongue.

“Well, I suppose that explains things.”

Tengen smirked, obviously amused with your response. He placed a final peck on the flame hashira’s lips before looking at you, searching your eyes for something you couldn’t identify. “Does this bother you?”

You shook your head no. Nevertheless, it was delightfully pleasant to learn that more and more rumors were true.

“What thoughts are you thinking, maiden?” Kyojuro said, his voice nearly melting into the crickets’ nighttime songs. “You’ve said little the last few moments.”

You glanced between them both, emboldened in your feelings when Tengen wrapped one large hand around the swell of your hip while the other held Kyojuro’s hand.

“I’m thinking quite lecherous things, to be frank.” You winked, beckoning Kyojuro closer. “My mind, at this moment, is no better than any man’s.”

The sound hashira’s lips parted with promise as he leaned in for a kiss, only to move an inch away from you before making contact. Your eyes grew wide as you caught wind of his teasing, making you huff, which made both men laugh.

“Already so receptive, angel?” Kyojuro said, the sweet name coming out with ease. “I didn’t peg you as the type to pout—Head Maiden of the House Arai.”

You scoffed halfheartedly, relaxing to rest your head on Tengen’s chest. “Oh, now I fear for our future against the demons. I can’t help but wonder how you manage to live through each night with such broken eyes. You’ve even likened me to an angel again—one that pouts, no less. Gods help us all.”

You said the words passively, knowing well that you were not pouting. Tengen chuckled, idly teasing goosebumps onto the surface of your arms with long caresses.

Kyojuro drew closer again, nuzzling his nose against yours before the depth of his voice lowered. “I protect you from demons well, maiden. Nearly as well as I’m sure I will bring you pleasure tonight.”

You glanced down between your bodies, noticing how his cock descended past the tops of his thighs.

“Oh. Now your pout has deepened, angel.” He repeated the endearment, a playful light in his eyes blooming beneath the honey-hued lamps hung up above your heads.

“Oh, has it?” You smirked, mischief familiar in your bones as you turned your head to look up at Tengen. His strong arms felt familiar as he raised his hand, now free from Kyojuro’s hold, to palm your breast.

“I’ll say whatever you want to hear if it keeps that look on your face, maiden,” Tengen said, looking down at you. His eyes were that same dark shade of fuchsia that twinkled with promise. “You look as if you could eat me alive.”

You nodded. “So, you don’t see any pouting then?” You lowered your gaze back to Kyojuro for a moment, letting your intentions sink in as Tengen leaned in.

You captured Tengen’s lips in a searing kiss. He reciprocated with pointed glances directed at his partner. His lips were soft as he pressed them against yours—his hand on your body too soft and heated against the late-summer air. He kissed you as if he were a thief in the night, aiming to steal every ounce of your breath beneath the twinkle of stars in the midnight hour.

“Wow.” You gasped, internally whipping yourself for the less than eloquent reaction once your lips parted.

“Wow?” Tengen teased, laughing earnestly as he reached for Kyojuro’s hand to pull the flame hashira closer. “If kisses render you this incapacitated, I fear what may happen to you if you allow us to pleasure your cunt tonight.”

You scoffed but didn’t move as Tengen’s hand drifted down to rest against the lowest point on your belly, rubbing his fingers against the hair. “I am not distracted by simple kisses, hashira. I’ll have you both know. I am simply remaining vigilant by anticipating your next move. You can never be too careful out in these woods, you know! There are dangers worse than demons.”

“Oh really?” Kyojuro cooed, leaning in to nose along the column of your exposed throat, leaving a trail of kisses that were laced with tongue and teeth.

“Of course, comrade. We’ve seen many already,” the sound hashira hummed, pressing his half-hard cock against your hip as his hands roamed. “There are sins galore in these woods, and your lakes, tempting us all to embrace them. Since we made contact with your land, something has told me that you, maiden, are no stranger to them.”

You tilted your head, moaning as the flame hashira lovingly pinched your nipple. “That I am not,” you said breathlessly, running your hand down Kyojuro’s chest for contact as he kissed your other breast. “It appears you’re acquainted with them as well.”

You nodded, falling into the sensation as the men touched every inch of your exposed skin; you couldn’t help but note how methodical both men’s movements were.

This must have been similar to how they handled their swords; their devotion and dedication to mastery showed, and you burned hot with need. A fire in your belly set alight as the men forewent talking, exchanging only kisses and gropes of your hips and thighs.

Tengen adjusted your body, so your back was against his front again. A smile graced your lips as he lifted you a bit in his lap, crossing one leg under the other to balance you on top of his lap. This raised your lower half out of the water, exposing your most intimate parts to the night air. You let your legs butterfly open, soft giggles spilling from your mouth as the sound hashira cupped your sex with his large hand.

You’d grown wet with arousal at the kisses and his touch, allowing his fingers to slip easily through your folds. You moaned, a deep wave of pleasure rolling down your spine as Kyojuro nipped at your throat, descending to focus his efforts on your slightly swollen nipples.

“It appears the rumors may prove true about you as well tonight, maiden,” Tengen said, toying with your clit. “You slick so easily under the barest of touches.”

“So, there are more rumors then?” you said, smirking as you repeated Kyojuro’s words.

The flame hashira smiled against your skin, brushing his arms against Tengen’s as he mapped the lines of your body with his hands. Finally, he relented, leaning over you to capture your lips in a kiss—just as sweet and dizzying as the sound hashira’s had been. He straddled the leg Tengen kept extended, moaning into your mouth as the sound hashira tweaked Kyojuro’s nipple with his free hand.

“Many,” Tengen said, his eyes lidded as he watched you two build your pleasure. “You, head maiden, have songs about you in the south.”

You rolled your eyes, releasing the flame hashira from your kiss to nip your teeth at Tengen’s chin. “If you intend to jest all night, I can find a better way to occupy my time.”

Kyojuro chuckled, rutting his now fully hard cock against the sound hashira’s thigh. You lent assistance, letting the hashira rock passively into the firm grip of your hand.

“Lord Tengen speaks only the truth, maiden. Our soldiers dole songs about the beautiful woman belonging to the House Arai, as gilded in looks as she is in kind nature,” he said, pausing to kiss his fellow hashira. “We had no way of knowing which maiden the songs were meant for, but now that we know you, the answer is clear.”

Tengen nodded, fucking you experimentally with one thick finger. You sighed, unable to keep any breath in your lungs at the weight of the penetration.

“Gods,” you said, soothed by Kyojuro peppering your face with gentle kisses.

“The last verse details a cunt so sweet that nectarines weep in envy. Slick and soft as if made by the finest silk maison the Entertainment District has to offer.” Tengen continued the tale, sounding amused as your slit made slick sounds as he fucked into you.

You rolled your eyes again, shaking your head at the story's absurdity. “And how can you be so sure I am who the song speaks of? You haven’t had a real taste,” you said, a moan heavy on your tongue as Tengen’s gentle rubbing continued; his pace nor accuracy ever wavering as the sensation built.

“You’re right, maiden,” Tengen said, sharing a look with Kyojuro. “I believe that should be remedied. Don’t you think, Kyo?”

“Yes,” the flame hashira said before grabbing your wrist, pulling away from your hand to descend down the rock. He laid on his side, resting against the wet stone to relax easily between your legs—now half-submerged in the spring again. Tengen removed his fingers from your cunt, raising the slick digits to toy with your pebbled nipples instead. The flame hashira wasted no time.

He took you into his mouth with no preamble, sucking your clit as if he were kissing it, letting his lips linger against the bud with soft sucks before lazing out his tongue to lick the swollen nub. He moaned in contentment as you placed your hand against his neck, lightly gripping the hair there to ground you as the sensation built.

“Fuck!” You groaned, meekly trying to keep your voice down. “Up, a little, and suck right the—yes!”

Tengen leaned over your right side, tilting your head towards his to stifle your exclamations with a kiss. He kissed you hard, intent on keeping you quiet just as much as he wanted to bring you more pleasure. You had to be quieter; both men intuitively knew this.

It would be disastrous if you were to cause anyone—a young anyone—in your home to stir, wandering out into the woods to check on their head maiden. Though your home was at least three kilometers up the stoned pathway, it was not entirely out of earshot with all the open land. If you couldn’t contain your voice, it would be cause for concern.

You looked up at Tengen, something reflecting in the iris of your eyes that made the hashira urge to protect you. He pulled you into another kiss, swallowing the sounds whole as you moaned, feeling the weight of Kyojuro’s efforts on your cunt creeping up on you steadily. Tengen touched your body, snaking his free hand—that wasn’t kneading your breast—up the expanse of your throat.

You looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but soft admiration within the deep purple color.

“Gently.” You sighed, rocking your hips to meet Kyojuro’s tongue in a rhythm that made you feel dizzy.

“Okay, angel. I’ll be gentle.” Tengen said, his voice liquid velvet as he whispered in your ear. He traced your chin with his fingers—over the sweet plumpness around your cheeks before touching the fullness of your lips. You licked the digit as your head fell back, muddled with satisfaction as Kyojuro sucked the sensitive nub with quick bursts of pressure. Tengen took the opportunity to slide in his finger, applying slight pressure to the surface of your tongue.

“Suck it.”

You obliged, kitten licking the pad of his thumb in time with Kyojuro’s tongue against you. The added sensation triggered something primal in your brain—the need to please and be pleased nearly overwhelming.

“Please.” You moaned weakly around Tengen’s finger, writhing beneath Kyojuro’s hands as he held down your hips. You felt the tail tell signs of your climax encroaching as the warmth simmering beneath your skin began to burn, your brain a jumble of names and mindless words as the coil wrapped around the core of your being tightened.

“I think our dear maiden is close, Kyo. Don’t stop. Keep licking her just like that.” Tengen kissed your temple, then your cheek, whispering encouragement in your ears that made your spine tingle with chills. Finally, he pressed a hand on your lower belly, his large hand applying firm pressure on the soft flesh. “Can you feel it, angel? Right here? All that ecstasy pent up inside of you? Can you let it go for me?”

You nodded, closing your eyes to fully envelop yourself in the sensation. Kyojuro’s mouth was warm and wet; his tongue slid easily across your engorged bundle of nerves—licking, sucking, and moaning deeply as he worked to bring that simmer of pleasure up to a feverish boil. You hummed around Tengen’s finger, unable to stop the sound as the coil snapped—blinding you with unbridled euphoria.

Your thighs flexed with the strain from your orgasm, only avoiding smothering the flame hashira due to his arms pinning you down. His tongue didn’t relent as you made pitiful attempts to fuck his face, still steady and sure as he worked you through your high.

“You’re both a sight to behold,” Tengen said, removing his finger from your mouth as your whimpers turned to heavy breaths. He circled your nipple with the wet digit, enticing your body to push out more of that sweet, dizzying sensitivity.

Kyojuro smiled, placing merciful kisses against your swollen slit before soothingly licking your clit. He cooed as it twitched with small aftershocks, “you did so well,” falling from his lips in a daze.

Tengen chuckled, adjusting you in his lap so he could carry you out of the hot spring. Kyojuro relented, moving to allow the change as your deprived whimpers grew louder again.

“Tired, maiden?” Tengen asked, lifting you up and out of the sweltering water. Once your skin touched the chilled air of the night, you shivered, nuzzling into his muscular chest. Kyojuro lifted himself from the water, grabbing the basket you’d brought for the evening from the edge of the spring where Tengen stood waiting with you in his arms.

“Not even close, hashira. The night has just begun.”

୨୧┈┈୨୧

You’d never likened yourself to women who felt shy in front of men. You’d played with so many; all high-ranking, overly confident, battle-hardened, and sweet-talking. They’d waltz through your doors, occupy your time, and then fill your cunt. They were just there. Something to do, something to feel, someone to touch. In all of that time, no man had ever made butterflies bloom in your belly—not even when you were a newly matured babe, fresh and untouched. Yet here you were, fearful the winged creatures would carve you hollow and build a home in your gut.

“I’ve never done it this way before.”

You laid on a bedroll in the hashira’s lodging, allowing the men to move you this way and that until you were in the position they wanted. The room was relatively plain; all beige tatami-lined floors and saple-framed shoji panels with a stone-lined bath in a room to the side. The ceilings were higher than in the main home, and the lanterns warming the room were scattered more to cover the ample space.

The engawa wrapping the bedroom had a small bridge adjoining it to the opposing side of the structure, overlooking the pond winding throughout the interior courtyard. Wisteria hung in long vines from the wooden awning above, wrapping the guest home in even more protection.

The area was quite grand and was often only used to house more extensive groups of higher-ranking demon slayers. Rarely did you open the home for only two (or three) people, but the hashira were as high-ranking as ranks could go—they deserved to be bathed in opulence. Getting to indulge in it with them was a positive side effect of your tryst.

“We’ll make it enjoyable for you,” Tengen said, reaching down to support Kyojuro’s head as the flame hashira placed a pillow beneath his neck. Next, he laid beneath your body, near the end of the bedroll where Tengen kneeled in wait. Your head faced Kyojuro’s feet as you supported yourself on your forearms, on all fours above Kyojuro’s body.

The position placed your cunt directly over his face while his cock stood perfectly erect and weeping precum in yours. The sound hashira moved behind you, using the tatami for traction on his knees to fuck you from behind. “You prefer it gentler, right? Slow and deep?”

You nodded, then—realizing the sound hashira might not have been able to see it with how you were turned—said yes.

“Good,” he said, the smirk audible in his tone. “I can do that. Careful not to smother each other, nor forget to tend to one another. When the pleasure takes hold, you may lose control.”

The flame hashira chuckled, grabbing hold of your hips to position you better above his chin. “I won’t complain if the maiden tries to steal my breath away—that’s what we master breathing techniques for. Just be mindful, Tengen, of where your parts land. There are people beneath you, you know.” He pulled on your hips, forcing your legs to part more as you relaxed against the lower half of his face. Tengen grabbed hold when Kyojuro moved his hands higher, caressing the length of your spine with his lissome, calloused fingers.

Both you and Kyojuro moved at the same time, eager to get a taste of each other. The arousal tingled in your blood as you wrapped him in your warmth, licking the head of his cock with broad swipes before enveloping it with your mouth. It felt heavy on your tongue—the length long while having just the right amount of girth for it to be merciful on your jaw.

You closed your eyes and let the motion become mindless, falling into the rhythm of sucking as the hashira leveled his attention on you. Then, having memorized things from your time in the spring, he skillfully slid back into pleasuring your clit.

“Ready, angel?” Tengen asked, slowly stroking his thick length as he slid two fingers into your sex, testing the tension. “You’re wetter than the springs but still so tight. I want this to feel good for you.”

You sighed through your nose, sad to be parted from Kyojuro’s cock as you pulled off of it to speak. “I’ll be fine, Lord Tengen,” you said breathlessly, using the moniker he’d mentioned when discussing his wives. “I’m not sure I could feel pain right now if I wanted to. Our flame hashira has a tongue that makes you see stars. But, please, I want you in me too.”

Tengen chuckled, pressing the spongy patch of nerves within you as he removed his fingers. “Well, then. I don’t have to be told twice.”

The room went black as you snapped your eyes shut, moans tumbling out of your mouth as Tengen entered you, moving with practiced precision as he explored to learn what you like. You swallowed Kyojuro’s cock again to muffle the noise, even though you were removed from the danger of being heard.

The sound hashira lacked nothing in terms of length and measured agreeably in terms of girth. You could feel everything with the tempo he set; every drag of his cock against your walls, every tantalizing near miss from your womb, every twitch in his length as you squeezed around him.

Despite his large stature, the man was pleasantly skilled with his hips, almost too much. The sound hashira kneaded his balls, adding to the pleasure while amusingly preventing his scrotum from smacking Kyojuro’s skull. His hips angled slightly to the side as he fucked you, positioning his curved length perfectly inside you. He pulled out until only the tip remained before rolling his hips to sink back in—tantalizingly deep before increasing the speed.

“Gods, you take it so well,” he said, a guttural moan vibrating in his chest. “Is this how you like it, maiden? Being taken apart slowly at the seams, one stitch at a time, until you’re weeping for release?”

You moaned on Kyojuro’s cock, releasing him from your mouth with a slick pop before taking him in your hand.

“Yes, gods,” you said, riding the electrifying sensation of Kyojuro licking at your center, lapping at your clit with mesmeric concentration. “I—ah. The stall girls were right about so much. Horses, beauty, sunsets. I want your seed—both of you.”

Tengen chuckled, angling his hips down to hit the spot that made tears spring in your eyes. “Oh, Kyo. I think we may have broken her. She’s speaking in riddles.”

The flame hashira hummed, sucking your clit while dutifully laying still under the ministrations of your mouth. His left leg propped up, exposing his innermost place that you longed to touch.

“Can I?” you said, tracing figure-eights on Kyojuro’s inner thigh. “There’s oil in the nightstand somewhere. I want you to feel as good as I do.” You motioned next to Tengen, knowing it was there from Ayra—the girl sometimes needed the extra slickness on nights with larger men.

The sound hashira full-belly laughed, reaching behind himself to grab the most obvious-looking vial in the top drawer. Kyojuro moaned against your slit, placing a sloppy kiss against your lips before muttering, “yes, please.”

Tengen poured more than enough on your fingers when you extended your arm, resuming his motions once you settled back into position. Kyojuro made it easy for you by opening his legs more and tangibly relaxing his body. The mewling started at the first circle of your finger against the rim, teasing the sensitive nerves before sinking one digit in to the hilt—all keeping time with Tengen’s thrusts into you.

Despite the nearly overwhelming amount of stimuli happening across the entirety of your body, you focused enough to feel around within the flame hashira’s body, prodding and curling your fingers until—

“Gods!”

None of you lasted long after that; you wordlessly fucked each other with all the finesse your bodies could handle until you all reached your peak. Kyojuro was practically sobbing beneath you as he fought to maintain his breathing technique. Your fingers ceaselessly caressed his bundle of nerves while your mouth worked on his cock. Tengen exchanged the deep milking rolls of his hips for thrusts, fucking into you firmly as if gold would fall out from his efforts. Combined with the sweet petting on your clit from Kyojuro’s tongue, you were a goner.

“I can’t. I—fuck, I’m coming.”

Tengen moaned, his breaths deepening as his cock bathed your insides—protected from threats by a salve—in cum. Kyojuro followed quickly behind as his cum shot over your neck and chin in thick ribbons.

The room went dark again, and in the bliss of the afterglow, you slept.

୨୧┈┈୨୧

Lazing around on the engawa had been your favorite thing to do since you were a child. The large porch in the main home was elevated with two stories, the top level’s engawa overlooked most of the main property; all of the wisteria, a hint of the mountains, your Mother’s garden, the steam in the air from the hot spring—in the wintertime.

The hashira’s abode had a considerably bigger one. It was made of dark cedar wood and covered with scraps and knicks you’d fruitlessly tried to buff out. You’d given up on fixing it a few years ago, leaving the marks as a testament to the many strong soldiers who’d come and gone on their travels to protect the world.

After waking, you’d gone outside to lay on it, overlooking the pond at it’s feet in the interior courtyard. The space was filled with stone statues, an abundance of wisteria, Japanese maple and pine trees, and honeysuckle shrubs. The pond housed koi fish and lilies, thriving with other small fish while notably lacking any harmful algae. It was the pinnacle of relaxation; your stress turned to ash and flowed away with the wind when you spent time here.

With a pillow laid beneath your head and a large, thick, cotton futon beneath your body, it made sense that the hashira were drawn to join you.

“I think you may both be addicted to my cunt.” You giggled, kissing Kyojuro lazily as Tengen licked the sensitive nerves. “How many times do you two intend to bring me to climax tonight? I was so enjoying the koi, and you’ve come to distract me.”

Kyojuro nuzzled against your neck, lazily fucking into Tengen’s hand against your side.

“We couldn’t resist. You looked so peaceful we couldn’t help ourselves from wanting to contribute to it,” Kyojuro said, kissing the junction between your shoulder and chest. “Besides, you smell divine. I could get drunk off of your scent if you allowed it.”

You giggled, thankful for Ayra’s insistence on the wisteria oil.

“It’s from the vines. They produce a scent that brings even the noblest men to their knees; it seems to be working.”

Kyojuro nodded, inhaling mouthfuls of the fragrance as he came, painting white over your hip and stomach. He cleaned you with a rag, speaking sweet nothings into your ear as Tengen gave his utmost attention to your sensitive bud, working it until it was teetering on the edge of pain.

“You know, I believe there was a secret you meant to share with us, maiden. What was that memory you had?” Kyojuro said, laying on his back beside you, staring up through the awning’s slits to peer at the stars. “The one that made you smile so beautifully. That provoked us to have our game.”

“You want to hear it now?” Tengen chuckled, giving you a moment to come down from the burning edge of overstimulation, kissing along your inner thighs as your breaths slowed.

You smiled, turning your head to the side to look into the garnet-red of his irises. “I told you my secret. I wielded a sword out of turn to protect my sister. It’s the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever done.”

“But the memory,” he said, expecting.

You sighed feebly, relaxing your neck to look up at the stars again. Tengen kissed your lower belly, crossing his forearms across your hips in wait for your blessing to continue.

“My memory was nothing spectacular. I simply remembered something from childhood that reminded me how admirable the position of ‘hashira’ is. I am deeply thankful for your sacrifice,” you said, fighting the shake in your bones as Tengen’s mouth descended, licking you again in electrifying strokes. “I also believe you may not be the first flame hashira I’ve ever met, Rengoku Kyojuro.”

His brows furrowed as he turned to look at you, propping himself up on his elbow. He traced the lines of your face with his finger, lightly rubbing the digit along your bottom lip as he processed your words.

“You met my father,” he said firmly. “How old?”

You grinned, distractedly recanting the tale of how your Mistress came to acquire Ayra. The night you tended to your first hashira, a man so skilled and mighty that the wisteria vines around you shook in both trepidation and respect. How the man let you sit in his lap, telling you stories of his own boy—only a few years your senior, that was learning the art of the sword. He gave you a newfound respect for the hashira; not only as protectors or sell-swords but warriors with hearts filled with love, despite the horrors of the night that sought to drain it out.

“My father is a good man who’s been taken hostage by grief,” Kyojuro said, holding your hand against his heart as the pleasure grew, taking hold of your breath and making you shut your eyes. “I aim to be better than him. As a warrior, as a friend, as a man… and as a partner. I need to be better than him in all ways as I age.”

Tengen released you, mounting the pressure higher by delaying the release.

“That’s an admirable dream, friend. I believe you’ve done well on that aspiration already.”

Kyojuro nodded, falling back into his kisses as Tengen resumed, “beautiful, angel, ethereal” on his lips as you reached your high.

୨୧┈┈୨୧

You made love until early morning light broke through the clouds. Rice balls and berries fed to each other, with water shared and kisses galore exchanged in between. You laid on the disheveled futon, tangled in the sheets with the gentle sound of spring water in your ears. Tengen snored softly on your left, cradling your head in his arm protectively, while Kyojuro laid on your right, pressed against your breast with his arms wrapped around your belly. Then, as the birds began to sing with the sunrise, you stirred, snuggling in the warmth between the two men’s bodies.

The sound of wings cutting through the wind was audible outside the guest home's thick shoji panels, causing both hashira to awaken with startling precipitance. Their crows landed on the perch just outside the door, their bodies visible through it with the sun's backlighting.

They sat in silence as the crows squawked instructions, instructing the hashira to descend your mountains to go east and west, respectively, for missions.

“Duty calls,” Tengen whispered, kissing you leisurely despite the command. He stretched against you, pressing some of his weight against your body before grumbling about needing to gather his bearings. His hair was still down; a wild mess of white locks hung over his face while Kyojuro’s stuck up in the air.

The flame hashira grinned, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before leaving the futon, cleaning and putting away things around the room despite Tengen’s unenthusiastic protests. The sound of animals stirring in the barn lands around you and the soft rumble from carts descending the mountains alerted you for your duties as well; most of the girls would be waking soon to begin bathing and preparing breakfast, and your Mistress would be expecting you soon.

The rest of the morning went on with little fanfare. The hashira bathed with you in the middle, gossiping to each other as you cleansed the men’s backs. Before you all got dressed, you allowed their hands to roam your body for a while. You fell into the familiar pattern of pleasure before the crows cawed again, rushing you all to get on with your duties.

The sky was clear when you exited the guesthouse, all wispy white clouds and nothing but blue for the observable distance. Most of the girls were awake and floating around the home’s exterior when you approached—first, without the hashira—to alert them that the men were being summoned and thus were leaving. Sopheary frowned as she pulled weeds from the bushes, while Yua pouted, muttering something about “the pretty hashira” before stomping off to the kitchen to make a parting basket.

“You look well rested,” Ayra shouted, swiftly descending the stairs from the second-floor engawa. You chuckled, taking it in stride when the girl spun you in a circle, whistling as she peaked into your yukata and saw the myriad of marks across your skin. “Looks like you won’t be using our baths for a bit. Himari and Dorothea will have plenty of questions if they see.”

“I know,” you grumbled, using your Mistress’ arrival as a worthy distraction from Ayra.

You gave her a hug, feeling safe as she patted your back with her steady hand. Then, she pulled away, giving you a once over before side-stepping you to stand in front of the girls—everyone coming back outside as the hashira’s crows proceeded them as they ascended the path.

The babies grew fussy when the hashira said their goodbyes, begging to be held by you until the men gave them attention. The men accepted the gifts from the elder girls first, saying their thanks for the basket as they peeked inside. All of the contents were placed in an easy-to-carry satchel, light enough despite the plethora of goods that their crows were able to carry them.

“Well,” Tengen said, approaching you and the girls. His eyes held a fondness that should have felt foreign for a warrior. “I suppose this is goodbye, little ones. Until next time.”

You nodded, allowing the babies to go into the man’s arms like they’d fussed for. Tengen scooped them up easily, giving them both hugs that dripped with affection before putting them down. Kyojuro kneeled, allowing Sana to (attempt) to tie the golden omamori talisman into his ponytail, just as he’d promised.

“We hope you enjoyed your stay,” your Mistress said, giving the two a deep bow.

Tengen reflected the motion, grabbing hold of her tremoring hands in his large ones. “We had a wonderful time with your family. We’ll visit again soon.”

“Good!” Ayra said petulantly, wrapping herself tighter in her casual yukata. “Just don’t make us wait another two hundred and eighty-six days before you come to see us. I’m sure our head maiden would be delighted to serve you again.”

You rolled your eyes, bowing your head as well to show respect. “We wish you safe travels and pray for your safety in battle. Thank you for your sacrifice. It is not in vain.”

Tengen smiled, as did Kyojuro. They pulled you in for a kiss each, with no formalities in the way they captured your lips. Soft, sweet, and muddled with promises destined to be fulfilled. You ignored the gaggle of whispers behind you as you pulled away.

“We will meet again, maiden,” Tengen said, kissing the top of your hand. Kyojuro said similarly, bowing before following his crow to the gate.

You waved along with the girls as the men turned their backs, going opposite ways down your mountain’s path onto their next missions.

“Yes, we’ll meet again, hashira.” You thought to yourself, relaxing your arm as they disappeared into the distance. “So long as our wisteria blooms.”

i hope you liked this :') i'm sorry it took me so long to come back to it. i've been so insanely busy that I haven't had much time to write, but I couldn't leave this fic hanging. it's easily been one of my favorite things that i've written. i got a new job recently but i have time off until that new position begins. so, i hope you enjoyed my return. i'd loveee to hear your thoughts <333 crossposted on ao3 || taglist || tags: @bokuroskitten @rosesandtoshi @crystal-lilac @murdereddaydreams @mxgenderbender

[naivesilver]

One of those Eliana plot moments I was dying to reach, deliberately sprinkled with some family angst 💗

✍️(◔◡◔)

There are days where Emma thinks the world must be out to make things as difficult as possible for her. 

This should not be one of those days, and yet, predictably, here they are. In a way it was almost easier at the beginning of this ordeal - Gold showed up with some new cronies, sure, but that's on par with the course. It's arguably part of their town's routine, by this point. 

Then those cronies took August. That, Emma suspects, was where everything started picking up speed as it went to hell. 

She spares a glance at Eliana, who is pacing around like a caged tiger, her movements jerky and impatient. Emma can't exactly blame her - even if her brother hadn't been the one who got taken, she must be still riding the high of his rescue, full of adrenaline and pent up energy - but it is an unnerving sight, muddy footprints tracking across the hospital floor notwithstanding. 

Emma sighs, forcibly returning her attention to the book pages that have given them all so much trouble lately. In the brief bout of lucidity he had at her house, August casually informed her that that is where their mysterious Author is, so now she's on her own trying to puzzle out how to get him out - her friend lost consciousness shortly afterwards, which made him of little help, with the addition of having to figure out where to go to get him checked out. 

In Emma's defense, she did propose the convent right off the bat, and she still wagers it would have been the better choice; magically sturdy and magically knowledgeable, it’d have been the perfect place for their needs, so they could continue worrying about pretty much everything else. Eliana, however, fought against that option so strongly that it was impossible to make her change her mind, and, as Emma has learned the hard way in the past few hours, most people will capitulate rather than arguing with someone whose face is deliberately spattered with Cruella De Vil's drying blood. 

The sound of approaching footsteps invades her train of thought. The sheriff looks up, expecting Whale or one of the members of his staff, but is instead met with Regina's flat expression. 

The mayor is still playing double agent, technically, but the only other supposed ally of Gold is on the opposite wing of the hospital, bound to her bed and with enough gauze wrapped around her neck to satisfy a mummy. Even if she were to spot Regina, which is unlikely, it would simply look like another attempt to swipe the illustration of the door from Emma’s hands, albeit in a more crowded environment than usual.

“Still no word from Gold,” Regina announces, her gaze moving between the other two women. “He’s probably huddling somewhere with Maleficent until he gets another bright idea, since this one worked so well.”

Emma sighs, stashing away the pages again. The less people see them, the better, even at this point. “I don’t know if that’s better or worse, honestly,” she says, her voice terse and unamused. “Did you come all the way up here just to tell me there was no news?”

“I wish. No, Gold’s off the radar, but you’ve got another visitor.”

“Really? Who?”

“The Mother Superior. She’s come to check up on August, since they used some…unusual magic on him.”

For a brief, surprisingly lucid second, Emma feels a stab of regret about not having asked Regina to speak in private. She doesn’t get much more time than that, anyway; a second seems to be enough for Eliana to register what she’s just heard, freezing on the spot halfway through her brooding - her head swivels around, looking at the mayor with her purple-ish eyes as wide as saucers, but her face is completely expression-less, a waxen mask stained with red from the chin down.

Then, what feels like just another second later, she rushes past them both, stomping out of the door without looking back.

“Crap.” Emma stands up so abruptly the rickety hospital chair almost falls backwards, cursing more under her breath as she grabs Regina and sets out on Eliana’s trail. “Did you really have to say it where she could hear? Where is the Mother Superior, anyway?”

Her friend all but glares at her, though mercifully she falls in line with Emma pretty easily, as if picking up on the urgency of the matter. “At the entrance. I told her to wait until I asked if August could have visitors. But what-”

“That girl went for Cruella’s jugular only a few hours ago, do you think it’s safe for Blue of all people to be around her?”

“Well, if Blue couldn’t guess that her kid would be here, that’s on her, not me,” Regina scoffs moodily. “Personally I’m on Eliana’s side- that dog lady wanted Henry, Emma. If she’d gotten to him like she planned, I wouldn’t have stopped at the jugular, and neither would you.”

The problem is, she’s right. Emma has nothing against Eliana. Eliana is, by and large, a nice enough person - she grew up with Ruby, and Henry likes her, and August, who despite everything is still one of Emma’s closest friends, thinks the world of her, like the besotted younger brother he is. She might have a penchant for butting heads with her mother and Emma’s, sure, but she doesn’t look the type to go for unwarranted violence, and besides, what Regina said is true: without her, Cruella De Vil would have tried to take Henry instead, in the hope of luring his family out for good.

But Emma’s personal opinion matters little and less, right now. She is still the sheriff, and she is still the Savior: while babysitting a young woman who’s barely gotten off the adrenaline rush of biting a chunk off a villain is not her top priority, she’d rather avoid having a matricide in her hands anyway, in the midst of all that chaos.

Thankfully, the Mother Superior is still relatively in one piece when they stumble into the hospital's hall, though she looks far from pleased. She and her daughter are both small women, nearly of an height, but where the fairy's wearing sensible shoes and exuding her customary air of authority, Eliana has turned into a looming, haunting presence, as though her wild hair and the way she's standing up ramrod straight were making her appear larger than life. 

"Nobody asked you to come," Emma catches her hissing as they draw closer to the pair. "You're not welcome here."

Blue scoffs, with the same look of annoyance one might have after stepping on a chewed gum. "This is not the time for your childish games, Eliana. I need to make sure your brother is in good shape, and- oh, God, what happened to you?"

"You did." Eliana leans forward so that she's almost nose to nose with her mother, her voice lowering so much it's almost inaudible over the din around them. 

"You're what happened to me, and to August. So many of the things Gold did to him, they were because of what you did to him first - look at yourself, Mother. You're a fucking disease. I'm not letting you get close enough to poison my baby brother again."

"I'd thank you to avoid that kind of language when you speak to me-"

"Or what?" The question is delivered with a sort of hysterical giddiness, but none of that shows up on the young woman's face, save perhaps for a brief glint in her eyes, a sharp, pestering flash. 

"What will you do to punish me? Will you make me stand in the corner? Will you let August get hurt again? I am tired of having to chase away his monsters myself just because you can't be arsed to do your duty. And you didn't pass anything useful down to me, otherwise I'd have needed less time to burn that cursed island to the ground, back then."

Eliana points at the crusted blood with surprising ferocity, all but livid with anger. "But this? This is yours alright, Mother. This is how you would have solved things, too, if you weren't too proud to get your own hands dirty, so don't tell me you're here to help, now. You already did more than enough when you gave us both life."

She spits the word out so venomously that it catches even Emma off guard, though the sheriff still takes the split second the Mother Superior spends faltering to cut between them, wary of possible escalations. "Okay, ladies, that's enough. Blue, thanks for checking in, but I think we're managing just fine for now. We’ll call if we need anything. Eliana- you need to get some sleep. August will be fine. He's in good hands."

"He is," the younger woman agrees readily - except she doesn't look that much younger, at present. She is still fresh-faced and minute, at a first glance, but when her eyes raise to meet Emma's there's a fury in them that feels ancient, burning blue and purple like gas fire. 

"I trust you with him, Emma Swan, and I trust the mayor, but I do not trust her. She already let him die once; she might do it again if you don't keep an eye on her."

There's a sharp intake of breath from Blue, and suddenly the nun is struggling against Emma's flimsy separation, face contorted in anger. "You're going too far, child," she says, her proverbial calm straining. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Call me child one more time, I'll choose some new names for you as well. What do you say about liar, uh? Murderer and liar, maybe?"

"You dare-"

"Yes, I dare, Mother!" Eliana explodes, clutching at the sides of her head as though her skull were splitting in two, fingers twisting in her tangled curls in a way that must be at least a bit painful and yet shows no sign of stopping. 

"You have no idea of what you've passed down to me, of what- what I've heard in that forest, and you still judge me for how I've acted all these years, but this is on you, Mother. Gold hates you. That's why he tricked me and why he hurt August. None of us would be here right now, if you'd just done your job with him. You should be ashamed. You-"

"What's going on here?"

There’s a beat where Emma almost thanks whatever divine intervention might have just saved her arm from being torn apart by the mother and daughter barking on either side of it. It only lasts a beat, however, as when she raises her eyes she finds out the new voice belongs only to Marco, standing in the hospital hall with his hat in his hands and a concerned look on his face.

“Great, it’s a family reunion,” Regina mutters, acidly, as Blue takes the chance to compose herself and turns around to address the man directly, as though she hadn’t just come out of an hysterical catfight in a public place.

“Geppetto, please, control your daughter better- she’s in a state, right now. She’s not fit to look after anyone.”

She probably expects Marco to side with her, just as Emma’s own father has gone along with some of her mother’s worst ideas; judging by the way her expression freezes, however, she must not be expecting him to stiffen and say, evenly: “She is your daughter, too. Not just when it suits you.”

He walks past them to reach Eliana, then, and only hesitates a moment before stepping to her side and wrapping an arm around her chest, at once protection and holding. He is not an extraordinarily tall man, Marco, but the girl looks pretty much dwarfed by his grip, even if anger is still dripping from her every pore - Emma feels safe enough to step away, then, though she keeps her guard up, just in case.

“My girl,” the carpenter says frettingly, scanning his daughter’s features up and down. “What happened? I thought it was your brother that- Is that blood? Are you hurt?”

Eliana doesn’t respond immediately, eyes still staring vacantly in her mother’s direction, so it’s Regina who steps in once again, her tone dry but not devoid of any admiration. “She is what happened to some old friends of mine. Your girl got August out- without her we’d still be running in circles.”

“And that was very brave of her,” Blue interjects, somewhat irritated, “but no one knows for sure what Rumpelstiltskin did to August yet. Emma, you know it better than I do- if it’s dark magic, then the sooner we get rid of it, the better. We’re only wasting time with this farce.”

“You’re the only one wasting any time here, Mother.” Eliana speaks softly and haltingly, but her gaze is still hard as steel, despite everything.

“My brother is fine where he is. Touch him again and I will eat you alive. This will be your only warning.”

Marco hums pensively under his breath, his eyes flitting from the girl in his arms to Regina and Emma. “If Eliana says there is no danger, then I trust her. Emma? Have you seen my boy yet?”

“Whale thinks he’ll be okay,” the sheriff replies, picking her words cautiously. “Sort of. He’s going to need some time to rest and recover, but that’s about it.”

“Then we don’t need your help right now, Mother Superior. You can leave my children alone, if you please.”

It’s a low blow, lower than many would expect from a man as mild-mannered as him. It’s easy to guess Blue might be of the same opinion, too - she looks absolutely floored by the remark, enough not to be able to get even the proverbial last word in, and it’s a miracle the whole hospital doesn’t fall onto their heads as she leaves, so enraged she appears to be.

Still, she does leave, and Emma turns back to Eliana, dread pooling in her gut. The girl hasn’t torn her eyes from her departing mother yet, either, but something has changed in her all the same; it’s as if she were being taken by a full body tremor, one that picks up pace when Blue finally walks out of the door and threatens to make her buckle at the knees, with only her father’s presence keeping her upright.

It occurs to the sheriff that she has never seen them so close to each other, before. There is some strain in that relationship, to hear August and Granny tell it, and though they must have exchanged a few words in Emma’s presence at some point, it was nothing like this - Eliana shakes and shakes, run through by shivers as though she’d gotten stuck in a blizzard, and Marco seems at loss of words over her reaction, cradling her cheek with his free hand like an additional point of support.

“Marco,” Emma ventures, ever so carefully, “August’s still sleeping. You can go see him if you want, but she really needs to get some rest too. Everything else can wait.”

“No.” Eliana squirms in her father’s hold, an uncharacteristic pleading note in her words. “I don’t want to. I can’t.”

The man shushes her gently, pulling her even closer. “Of course you can. We’ll go see your brother, and then I’ll take you home. It’s alright.”

She shakes her head brusquely, sagging further on herself. “Papa,” she says, and it’s barely more than a hoarse croak, tears pooling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. Gone is the ageless air she was sporting before; now she looks like a child, and she sounds like one, too, a little kid tired out at the end of a sugar rush.  “Papa, I think I did something awful. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Oh, my girl.” Marco presses a kiss to the top of her head, in such a tender gesture that Emma feels prompted to look away and give them their privacy.

“I know that’s not true. You’re alright- Eliana, my sun, I’m so proud of you. It’s alright. You’re safe, and so is your brother. Everything will be fine, I promise.”

In the corner of her eye, Emma catches Regina turning around as well, gaze stubbornly fixed on the ceiling. The sheriff imitates her, and then thinks, idly, that she shouldn’t be feeling so gloomy about everything, about this heartwarming scene that’s unfolding behind them even as she tries to pretend she can’t hear anyone sobbing over the buzzing of the neon lights overhead.

She shouldn’t be, and yet she is, because that persistent worry that something’s bound to go wrong still clings to her, and has not left the room with Blue, as they, Eliana included, must all have hoped it would.

[this-barbie-is-the-problem]

someone explain the drake vs kendrick beef pls

[jennagrinsoverml]

Hello :)

Can I please request a fic rec of kind of the opposite of the list you posted today? So still Marinette, but she confesses to Adrien himself and before any reveal?

I've found they're a bit rarer than Adrien/CN finding out by accident, and I Need her to do it herself. It feels important that she face the hurdle herself I guess? But after the mix-up in the finale I don't know any more if canon will have her do it.

Thank you :)

[image description: @gwiazdziarka asked:  Hi! Can you recommend any fics where Marinette confesses and Adrien turns her down? I mostly expect that they'd get together later anyway, but I'd be interested in reading stories that turn out differently too, if you know anything like this that's worth reading. I don't want be too specific here, so it's just Marinette's confession going wrong and no immediate happy ending.]

Love that I got two requests for this! This was a much tougher ask than fics where Marinette tells Chat! I've spent a lot of time looking for fics, and I found some good ones, but you're right--it's slim pickings out there! I don’t think any of these feature happy endings right away, so hopefully this scratches the itch for both of you!

the story of us (looks a lot like a tragedy now) by agnes_writes

“What—” Adrien asks softly, wide-eyed and breathless. “What are you trying to tell me, Marinette?”

His expression, as unreadable as it is, tells her that he already knows, but he wants to hear her say the words.

“Adrien… I’m in love with you.”

OR: My take on Dark Cupid 2.0.

Multi-chapter. This is set some time in season 4 and has Marinette finally getting up the courage to tell Adrien! (She doesn't know he's Chat and, in fact, there's no identity reveal at all in this fic.) And then everything kind of goes off the rails when Kim is akumatized again, and it's all done so well, especially the angst and the different people impacted. The whole thing is just so well done, and I loved it.

A Miraculous Reveal: An Unintended Confession by @kasienda

Marinette stumbles across a totally dejected Adrien. She ends up confessing to him in the hopes of making him feel better, which backfires when she realizes she can't actually date him because all the reasons her previous relationship failed are still there. Adrinette angst with a happy ending.

One-shot within a collection. I really, really loved Marinette's confession here. And Adrien's reaction is beautiful. There's more stuff that comes in to play, but if you want a pre-reveal Marinette confession, this should absolutely scratch that itch.

what lovers do by @lnc2

No really, they're just friends.

Multi-chapter. Okay, this fic is prpr BUT! I think it will still give you what you're looking for as there are some non-linear bits. And even though this fic is prpr, it's set after a reveal that happened after a pre-reveal Marinette confession that didn’t go so great. (And we do get to see that confession eventually in a flashback.) It's a really great slow burn fic that I absolutely recommend.

Bad Week by @ominousunflower

Adrien’s long and horrible week ends with a stinging rejection–until he sneaks out as Aspik and runs into an unexpected face.

“Hey!” a voice yells from behind him. “What are you doing—I—I mean, who are you?”

Aspik whirls around and finds himself face-to-face with…Multimouse?

With a frown, Multimouse glances at the jump rope wrapped around her waist. Untying it, she grips one end and weakly whips it toward Aspik. It flops on the ground in front of him like a wet noodle.

“AH,” she says. It somehow sounds like a question. “Um. An akuma?”

One-shot. It starts with Marinette trying to ask Adrien out on a date, only for it to go horribly wrong when she sees that he’s upset and takes it back and Adrien takes it as a rejection and concludes she would only go out with him out of pity. And then we get some quality snekmouse, which I LOVE.

On the Other Note by @thenovelartist

In which Marinette gives Adrien the right note from her purse.

Backwarder AU

One-shot. Exactly what it says on the tin: Marinette's confession in Backwarder is actually successful. And then we get to see how it all plays out! I love this fic, especially some of the later bits that I don't want to spoil, but read this!!

Confessions to a Statue by @kasienda

After Marinette bolts from his presence for the hundredth time, Adrien is scared that she doesn't like him. He thinks if he can just make her laugh, she might become more comfortable around him. He is about to instigate the best (worst) prank ever, but then accidentally overhears something that he wasn't meant to that makes him see his friend in a whole new light.

Contains spoilers for Season 3 - Puppeteer 2.

Multi-chapter. This is a Puppeteer 2 rewrite where Marinette's practice confession on Adrien is a little less OTT and a lot more genuine and, since she doesn't try to kiss him, Adrien never gives away that he's not a statute. This might not be what you're looking for because it's not an intentional confession, but it's all dealt with so sweetly and respectfully and, especially if you're interested in how a confession would play out pre-reveal, this fic delves into that beautifully.

(Emergency) Boyfriend by @nomolosk

Adrien has made a habit of stepping in when his friends experience unwanted romantic advances. And really, it was only a matter of time before Marinette needed that service... but what happens when he's suddenly a lot more attentive after the fact?

One-shot. There's no mention of superhero identities here at all so that doesn't bear on anything. But Marinette doesn't mean to or realize that Adrien's taking her words as a confession, at least initially, and this fic is just really cute and sweet with just the right amount of angst!

sunny-side-up and scrambled by @shizuumi151​

Marinette finally musters the courage to confess to Adrien. And Adrien finally gets to find out who Ladybug is. But the order in which that happens matters more than they know.

In which Ladybug and Chat Noir agree to reveal their identities to one another, but with one catch beforehand.

One-shot. Marinette confesses to Adrien pre-reveal and it...doesn’t go very well. The reveal comes after and even though they’re the same two people, there’s still fallout from that. There’s hurt feelings that don’t just disappear, even after they learn that their unrequited feelings are requited after all. I just love when fics don't shy away from how messy and irrational emotions can be, and this one is done particularly well!

[aamirastories]

Part 3

I'm putting these out quite regularly now as I have a lot of this already written, but will slow down now to give a chance to catch up for those following along!

The Hikers

March 10th, 2023

My legs were on fire. I looked up. When my father said this was going to be a short climb to the top, I would love to know what scale of measurement we’d used. 

I looked down. Sure, we’d come a long way. Looking up again though, the top seemingly faded seamlessly into the clouds.

“Come on! We’re almost there!”, my father said.

Now I knew what deja-vu was. It was hearing that every hundred or so metres. My father was an ex-Navy seal – tall, rugged with short greying hair. Our bond grew after my mother passed away and whilst I struggled growing up, Dad had really been working on his bond with me and this hike was an example of that. Years of demanding special ops missions and training have left him tough, physically and mentally and even out of service many years, he still kept himself in great shape. I on the other hand was only just beginning to get used to this increased level of torture-come-training that he led me through weekly. I was skinny and was never comfortable with exercise, though I did always prefer exploring and Dad and I always had a bond through this. I however, was exhausted.

We continued climbing up the gradual slope, my legs burning with each step. I focused on regulating my breathing as I tracked our progress, counting over 500 laborious steps upward. The ground unexpectedly levelled off into a plateau still shrouded in mist, surprising me. Where was the peak?

“Almost there!” My dad called out ahead, striding vigorously towards the blanket of clouds. I hurried to catch up, confused. We'd hiked miles, the thin, cool air signalling high altitude.

As soon as I entered the fog, it enveloped me completely. The astonishing vista left behind vanished - there was only a haze of white. We wandered sightless amidst the swirling vapor; the mountain's peak shrouded. A surreal sensation came over me, as if floating in another realm high above earthly bounds. I focused on my father's broad back as my anchor point, shadowing his tireless gait through this bizarre, muffled limbo.

Just when unease began overwhelming me, the fog thinned. Crisp blue sky emerged above while sunlight dappled the rocks golden. Scrambling up boulders, I grasped a ledge, pulling myself to the summit on hands and knees, my heart racing and my lungs on fire, before standing up. I got a little lightheaded, but my father steadied me, as the weight of the rucksack on my back obeyed gravity and threatened to help me take the quick way back down the mountain. 

I looked around. The view was gorgeous. The sky was a rich blue with only a faint wisp of cloud on the horizon. There was a nice cool breeze which I appreciated as it helped to cool my face, sweat still pouring down it. I slowly turned, taking in the vista, careful not to lose footing again. 

In the distance. What was it? I called out to my father.

“Dad? What’s that?”

It took him a moment. I pointed in the direction, and he finally spotted it, as it grew closer.

“An aircraft maybe? Seems to be going quickly whatever it is.” he replied.

“The trail though, it’s not white, it’s grey, almost black.” I added, and focused on it more, shading my eyes with my hand placed over my eyebrows. It was hard to discern a particular shape of it although it did glint in the sun, so I could only surmise it was made of some kind of metal.

It was coming more quickly now, the front of it turning a more yellow orange, and suddenly my heart began to race again.

“It’s definitely not an aircraft” my dad said. He picked up his phone and zoomed into it, getting a closer look.

As it got so close, we felt we could almost make out the shape of it, trying to work out exactly what it was, it exploded. The sound hit us about 4 seconds later, a loud bang, this deafening peal accompanied by a blast of scorching wind that sent us both backwards.

“WOW!” My dad said as he looked at me.

Where the object had previously been, a blue cloud was hanging in the air, spreading and becoming fainter as it did, the wind beginning to carry it over our heads. We stared at it for a matter of minutes before it completely faded. I could swear, before my dad looked at me that the faintest smell of what I could only describe as coriander was in the air but dismissed it immediately. We breathed air that had been endlessly hot – I could still feel the residual heat on my face. As the smoke dispersed, the sky looked pale and empty again.

“Come on, let’s head back down again. I need to write this down before I forget and post these pictures to some friends.” my dad said and began to step cautiously down the steep slope. I looked back up, no sign of where the object had been, before turning again and following him down, my path tracing his.

[evilmidnightlurker]

So we all know that the clones were ordered by a Jedi named Sifo-Dyas. That's a statement made out loud in the actual movie, that’s hard canon by most standards, right? Right.

What bugs me. What bugs me intensely. Is that deuterocanon, novels and such, apparently goes on to assume that Sifo-Dyas was a real actual Jedi. A real person really named SIFO-DYAS and not DARTH SIDIOUS spelling his name backwa anagra sideways like a vampire scribbling "Alucard" in a hotel log, cackling at his own cleverness.

It's right there, people. Who fucked this up?

[byuntrash101]

ok so guys the concert was insane.

like all of them were absolutely stunning and amazing. it was my first time seeing ateez and i mean i knew they were amazing performers but it was a different level to notice of this live.

they all spoke english almost thoughout the entire thing which means so much to international fans and isnt at all mandotory for the idols but they made the extra effort and that is special to me <3

my baby was gorgeous. like i fell so so hard for him i cant even put it into words. i can confidently say tht sog mingi is the sexiest man to ever roam this space rock we call earth. he is perfection. like his thighs are so thick and beautiful, his smile is just adorable, his expressive eyes and his stage presence is no joke you guys. im even more in love with mingi that i was when i walked in. he is the man. like he was so hot his real life body proprotions are just out of this world. he's so tall. a little smothing about me im a tall girl (1m75) and he looked talllllll. his backwas so broaddddd like the sturdiest shoulders ever. and like when he was performing like eyes are so sharp and he looks kinda mean and i love out it contrasts to his cute alter ego when he isnt performing. he gave us everything. like you could tell how hard he was working just by how much he sweated (also i love sweat i have a problem i need medical assitance like it made him look so hottttt). he served looks and talent on a silver platter.

like everytime it was him on the screen the crowd went wild. i think (actually dont quote me on this) he sold out his mingi fan thingy the fastest. like everytime he spoke we kept on barking just out of pure collective mingi brain rot. we were all his dogs i tell youuuuu. and we loved it.

and seonghwa danced hapy boy doing the real dance break it was so cute and funny. ugh i love himmmmm.

it was the frist time they came to belgium and they all said they had a great time visiting the city and doing tourist stuff (their pictures at the Grand Place are so cuteeee ugh) and they also said they enjoyed the food and that made me so happy like i really hope they will have a fond memory of my city and that thy want to come perform again.

and the audiance was so full of enerygy. i went to other concerts and it was the first one that i felt like we were all hyped up like we kept on chanting and screaming. at one point seonghwa was on screen that yelled until our brains melted out of our ears and he said that he rally loved when we screamed. hongjoong asked if we had been storing our energy for five years. like we kept cheering for them as loud as we could. i hope they really saw how happy and hyped we were from them it wasnt all just fan service talking us into believing we were the best crowd ever. so yeah

sorry if this is all over the place but im all over the place.

i had the time of my life.

[dentff]

Slippery Slope

A parasite story (thank you @chub-lover101)

You made the decision to lose weight about a month ago and you were loving it. The effects of quarantine has had some negative consequences on your physique, with the transition to stay-at-home work and easy access to snacks causing you to bloat up considerably. Sure, your breasts had grew quite plump, your hips have thickened to make your most loose fitting pants feel snug, but your belly protruded out as if you were eating for two on a bad day, the pinkish stretch marks serving as an embarrassing reminder of your growth through a sedentary lifestyle, although they stick around as a memory since you hastily treated them. You enjoyed the movement and freedom a skinny form provided, and this sentiment only increased on the return to working in an office; all the coworkers had grown in similar proportion, gossiping about all the weight they all have gained, how they had more trouble moving, yet always snacking about behind the supervisor.

However, one coworker in particular stuck out from the rest. While the others had just a minor amount of pudge accumulated, Daisy on the other hand had to be considered straight up obese. With a globaluar gut that sometimes peaked out between her undersized shirt and leggings, pudgy hands, oversized tits, and earth-shaking thighs, she barely attempted to hide her appetite away from the supervisor, snacking freely on a box she kept in a small duffel she brought to work everyday, and then some more she kept in hidden inside her treat bag. Some coworkers straight up pointed this out to her, and she shrugged their comments and concerns off, saying, "I'm just always so hungry, I can't help it", and, "I can always diet, I'm just listening to my body". She got the shorthand "Daze" for her completely sedentary nature and demeanor as she left (and sometimes came into) work, since she always seemed to be bloated with food, which she often admitted to. Not only did she overhear the title born from her gluttony, she also accepted it, calling it endearing. On top of all this, she would shamelessly ask her coworkers to help her up from being pinned to her office chair, and her colleagues seemed to always oblige. You wanted to avoid that.

You turned to a several point plan: intermittent fasting from nine in the evening to two in the afternoon the following day, a keto-based diet with minor cheat days, and an hour or two of walking in the woods. Despite winter approaching and the trees' leaves littering the ground, a thick coat, a winter hat, and a durable set of boots made for the mud made for a serene trek to clear your head and excess fat. Overall, progress was well, pounds of weight practically slid off you and the breathable air of the woods served to clear your constitution. You never needed to really diet, and you thought you would never keep up with it if you had to, but now you were thinking about picking up actual exercise. Things were looking good on the horizon.

You were making your way down a familiar dirt path, naked trees surrounding you and stretching a disorganized formation into the distance. Another well off day of diet and light cardio, you've actually been walking for a little longer than usual, which you accepted pleasantly. You only had to make it up the hill and a short walk away you'd reach the path parking lot where you could go home and rest. The hill has been getting exponentially easier as you developed your leg muscles over the course of the month, so you thought to yourself a quick jog up instead of a steady hike would benefit your health and psyche. You tightened your calf muscles and pushed off the ground, striking with one foot against the ground after another, feeling your a fraction of your lost power return to you. Halfway up though, while joyfully jogging up the hill, the front of your foot planted the ground in a peculiar puddle. While your boot would normally grip the mud and leaves quite well enough, it instead slipped backwards and you fell arms first into the puddle. Luckily you weren't terribly hurt, just a minor bruise that would develop. In fact, you weren't terribly dirty either, apart from the weird substance that layered the front of your coat. You sat up and tried to catch your breath from your accident. 

You looked down at your coat to brush yourself off, and witnessed the substance that you fell upon. It was of a reddish hue, viscous, and sliding it up with your hand, it had luckily not left any stains on your jacket from where it splattered onto. You began brushing it off earnestly so you could get up to go to your car. The goo came off cleanly from your winter wear, but as you waved and wiped your hands, you noticed how the gelatin didn't clean off like it did with your coat, but instead adhered to your skin, and only seemed to cling warmly. You didn't think too much of it, your first thought was some kind of sap from the trees. But as you attempted to scrape it off with a rock in hope you could get some off, it actually seemed to tighten to your hand. By now, you noticed the small movements it made, the internal mechanism of the goo and its small cells moving around for maintenance, what appeared to be a pulse of an organism. You started to panic.

The goo quickly began to grow up your arm, and a wave of dehydration dizzied you as the parasite sucked up the moisture and nutrients from your skin to assist in its rapid multiplication. It disappeared up your coat. constricting your arm and causing your side to suddenly go numb. You used your other hand to try to prop yourself up, only for it to land in a puddle of goop that you cleared off, where it began its route up like its counterpart. You fell off the path onto your ass into the leaves and, comically, a puddle of goo, no doubt its origin of the portion found on the path. Similar to the other portions slowly subduing its prey, and with great urgency, it started soaking into your leggings and sticking to your glutes. Your sides were completely numb, the organism clasping around your neck and chest now, sneaking its way up to the sides of your lips.

Total terror enveloped the parts of body you still were able to feel, screams bellowing out allowing the invader to pour grow rapidly down your, stifingly your pointless cries for help. Your face is covered in a red sheet, donning an organic latex mask as it tightens around your muscles. Meanwhile, your legs spread and stiffen out, stuck in a ninety degree position as if giving birth, the parasite seeping into the walls of your pussy and anal cavity. Your nipples were even drip fed the parasite as you sported a concealed red skinsuit that covered the entirety of your body. What was once an up-in-coming sporty girl on her way to lose weight, now was a skintight red cocoon laying spread out on the side of the path. The red gushes through your intestines, your uterus, down your esophagus, coating all your walls all the way to your stomach, killing the gut's ecosystem in the shortest of moments and replacing it with itself and only itself. You squirm for a couple more seconds before falling dormant, your body instantly paralyzed and a wave of endorphins coarsed through your system. Inside and out, you were completely defeated.

For some quiet minutes, you lay motionless, choking to death but never fading to black, feeling the squirming sensation in your guts, weeping with no tears as you were sucked completely dry. You anticipated death, or at least hoped for it, wishing that this would end shortly so you wouldn't have to endure any longer, your former energy and constitution totally worn out. You'd rather die than become disfigured, or worse, have someone come over and experience the same fate in an attempt to help you. Such an uncourteous and mundane death, but something you would never experience the shame of. God, please help me. I can't take it.

First, your belly began to expand out, becoming incredibly distended as the slime cultivated a colony inside you, the zipper on your jacket straining more and more and more as it grew jn size. You feel your tits start to become ultra-sensitive, a warm blot spreading through your chest. Your tits, so tender now, began to slowly expand out, losing their droopy composition from your gain instead for a more fuller, round form, pushing the zipper down to the top of your expanding gut, your nipples smooshed against a tightening bra desperately holding on to your expanding tits. Your mouth opens in spite of your latex prison, a silent moan struggling out from your throat as a burst of dopamine spikes in your brain. A similar sensation you feel in your ass and hips as your skeletal structure is literally twisted and bent to expand out and your cheeks inflate, rounding out, giving you a full bodied, fertile figure, fit for a pair of thick thighs that were currently deflated, fit for a pair of hands to grab. Finally, your jacket tore open from your ballooning gut, the zipperhead flying off as your jacket spread out, exposing your sweater then hugged tightly against the growth of your chest and midsection. Your belly has progressed to now lay low and round, heavy to complement your fertile figure, giving the appearance that you've already been mounted months ago. Your hands gained consciousness, and they kneaded your full belly to relieve any kind of pain. It seemed quite impossible for your stomach to expand to such a scale, but as you sat up, you massaged your globular midsection to tend to it, feeling absolutely pathetic in the sorry state your belly was in. The further you regained your sense, the more slime receded into your ortifices and skin, and eventually you were able to sit up and stretch out completely, although grimacing in your growing pains, gasping for breath as your freedom returned.

You looked around rapidly, searching for the parasite so you could avoid a second round, but you were completely alone apart from the trees and stirring of squirrels. You press on your bloated breasts, quietly lamenting at how tender they were under your sweater, how constricted they felt by your now malfitting bra, somehow still containing the mounds of fat that had grown a moment ago. You roll over with some effort, catching yourself on a wobbly arm as you stick your shapely behind up and attempt to stand upright. You scooted over to a tree for support, pushing yourself against it and heaved up the colony bustling in your gut, and looked back to the path. And almost like nothing happened you waddle up at a snail's pace to the top, several times nearly falling over by the heaviness of your boots complicating your balance, besides of course, the obvious.

It took a three minute walk ten minutes to your car, and you feared that you lost your keys when your coat had burst from your swelling, but luckily, you didn't have to make a trek back to that cursed spot. You open the door and fall in, your gut pushed angrily against the steering wheel, feeling oddly empty after being totally filled with slime. You adjust your seat all the way back and down, resting for a moment in the warmth of your running car, staring into the ceiling, unable to press the thought of living through that out of your mind. Hesitantly, you peek up over your chest, seeing how your belly peeked back above your fat tits. You slowly unwrap the sweater to reveal a pale, pregnant belly, feeling around at the tender skin on the side, groaning in an odd pleasure, no doubt stretch marks were bound to develop, probably as soon as tomorrow. It swayed around when you shifted, you could play with it like it was a giant ball of fat, contrary to how you thought it would react. Your stomach ached, but focusing on the pain, you slowly revealed that the pain felt more like hunger pains, similar to what you felt in your first week of fasting, but on a much worse scale. Massaging your gut, feeling the slime goop around, and a rumble emits from deep inside, long and deep, stirring you up to your elbows to look for something to eat. You dig around a bag you brought for every walk, filled with granola bars for a treat to regain your strength after expending energy on your exercise. With no opposing thoughts, you tear one open wide and shove it down your throat, barely chewing as you choke it down like a starved wolf. Three more granola bars, and the box you brought was empty, and so were you, even after the four you had just swallowed. You didn't think about it too much, you were stupid with hunger and pleasure, but the compisition of your brain was slowly being altered by a more primitive lifeform imposing its will against a defenseless intelligence. Your hunger and pleasure signals were pinged rapidly, and you needed to feed. Oh, the emptiness, the urge, something you would become incredibly familiar with. Sooooo hungry…oh my God, is this how Daze feels? Fuck….

You put your car into drive and flew off back home, hunger in your heart and ready to feed, a dangerous change in your biological composition taking place.