#so in denial she's breaking reality

[deathsbecome]

the powers are based loosely on how addy's ghost presence breaks reality btw

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

with all due respect WHAT is going on with the swifties

okay so sincere answer: a lot of people who have spent YEARS convincing themselves that Taylor Swift is a closeted queer woman who's been sending coded messages through her lyrics, Instagram posts, imagery in her concerts, and pretty much everything else. this *is* conspiracy thought, complete with a thought terminating cliche: when pressed, Gaylors fall back on the insistence that Taylor CAN'T come out. their offered reasons seldom make much sense or hold up to scrutiny, but as long as they've been able to hold onto the refrain that Swift simply can't come out, it's possible to maintain the belief that she is signaling queerness but may never be able to confirm it. every boyfriend can be excused as a beard, every denial that she's dating a female friend can be understood as a lie, every insta post can be analyzed qanon-style for clues that only you and your in-group understand.

Gaylors have, obviously, been certain that these clues were being deliberately planted and thus that Swift was encouraging them and WANTED to be understood as queer in some kind of transparent closet situation; the fact that Swift has embraced the aesthetics of allyship with things like her unbelievably tacky video for You Need to Calm Down has been read as approval. receiving even a very mild admonishment - in this case, Swift expressing disappointment that rabid speculation about her romantic life didn't end when she decided to prioritize friendships with other women over dating men - is thus seen as a betrayal, as Swift breaking a contract that, in reality, she never knew about or agrees to. the ensuing social media tantrums we're seeing are what happens when someone has dedicated considerable time and energy to justifying a conspiracy, including building significant social networks around it, only to have that belief challenged by a source that they never thought would contradict them even a little.

in fairness I also never thought she'd do it; I really thought she'd play both sides and keep collecting that Gaylor money forever.

[marigoldenblooms]

That's a Wrap - One Shot

Pairing: Director!Natasha x Fem!Actor!Reader x Actor!Wanda (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Summary: You and Wanda can’t seem to get this scene right. With your director’s help, you manage.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Is Y/N in the room with us right now (They aren’t), Dom!Natasha, Switch!Wanda, Bottom!Reader. Dub-con, power dynamic (Director/Actor), voyeurism, degradation, praise, semi-public sex, semi-orgasm denial, light edging, objectification, oral (W receiving), fingering (R receiving), strap-on use(R receiving), some pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling, ma’am, Tasha(For N), Wan/Wands(For W), Mommy(For W, used loosely)), Nat calls her strap her dick, semi-previous established relationship? Porn with plot, clothed sex, sextape, light aftercare, fluff at the end. 

A/N: Welcome to the first issue of Smut Saturdays! Want to really create some good shit in this genre, so I'm posting at least one spicy fic every Saturday (if I can help it)! This came to me in a vision (called the five minutes before my math class)- After my last smut fic did well (An Important Lesson, Prof!Wanda x Reader, which you can read here), I thought I’d do some WandaNat practice! Not proofread, written in the span of an evening. This is a crime against intimacy coordinators, I’m so sorry. Asides over. Natasha wears a strap to her films and she can dick me down with it, please and thank you!

Word Count: 2.4k - Read Length: 8 minutes, 49 seconds.

~~~

It was never fun when the producers came by. 

They’d always arrive in droves of two or three, never the top dog- as if Natasha’s ‘avant-garde chick flick’, as they called it, wasn’t worth their time. They certainly treated it as much. Today was the worst day for them to arrive, in pressed jackets and always on a phone call, because today you were filming the sex scene. It was more of a ‘romance’ scene, with alluring cinematography and enough passion to make your eyes fall out, yet you hadn’t even gotten to remove any clothes from your beautiful costar- Wanda. You knew she was incredible, her previous films as a fem fatale showing her dominant streak, however the spark couldn’t burn when interruptions from the suits kept happening. You weren’t on a porn set, and yet sometimes you wish you were. Might’ve been faster, or at least more fun. 

“From the top,” A groveled voice muttered, Natasha’s steely gaze breaking into your skull-  though a part of you wished she’d break your back. The redhead had always been an inspiration, one of the leading reasons for your participation in her project, besides her being so fine. But now, she looked pissed, worn down by hours of appeasing the producer’s half-baked suggestions and guarding you and Wanda from their prying eyes. “Yes Ma’am,” you replied, earning a slight chuckle from your director, the twinkle in her eye not lost on you- she was on her last legs, but it was yours and Wanda’s compliance that kept her going.

You’d return to your blocking, centered in the middle of your ‘apartment bedroom’, with Wanda’s hand placed gently on your waist. Your roles were lovers, reuniting after a long day of hardship, slowing down after it all. You’d stare up at her, the mild exasperation in your expression making her smile. She’d send a wink down to you, muttering something about being ‘bored too’, but ‘not hating kissing you again’, or the like. She’d invited you out to coffee tonight, and especially after a day like this, you’d take it. Perhaps you’d even forget the paparazzi and really kiss her as you’d been wanting to do this whole shoot. Throw a bone to the fanfiction writers and make their canon comply with reality. Maybe. It was Natasha’s words which startled you from your thoughts, a look of tenderness overcoming your face as you’d sink into your character, “Action!” 

Within an instant, Wanda hiked her hands under the hem of your shirt, eyes darting down to your face. Her palms were warm against you, smooth against your soft skin, as your head rested gently on her shoulder. She’d tug at the fabric- and you’d send her a quick nod, smiling as you’d lean up to capture her lips in yours-

 “Well that’s not very marketable!” A producer would crow, scoffing with both his hands outstretched towards the two of you. You’d freeze, feeling all of the passion drain out from the scene, no more than a shell of itself. His bald head wasn’t very marketable, looking like a morally dubious Mr. Clean- and yet you didn’t comment on it. He’d look at Natasha, the woman pinching the bridge of her nose with a stern sigh, and you gulped. Oh, shit. She was going to lose it. “Can’t you get their clothes off faster? Our focus groups won’t wait around for-”

“Fucking Christ, get- out!” Natasha shouted, a growl in her tone bringing heat to your face. She scowled, roaring to the surrounding suits, “Leave, get off my set- it’s my fucking turn to direct them.” Her hands would fan away their deer-in-headlights looks, ushering them out before locking the door. Her fiery gaze would bore into you then, jaw locked as her heels would click towards you and Wanda, many feet apart. 

The two shared a knowing nod- And before you could speak, your director grabbed Wanda by her shirt collar and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Your jaw would drop as the brunette’s eyes widened, fluttering shut as Wanda moaned into the embrace- Natasha’s hands planted firmly on her tits. She’d squeeze them, earning a gasp from Wanda, your costar’s head swung back as Natasha swiped her thumbs across her nipples. Your director’s gaze would strike yours, and you understood why Wanda’s submission was so quick. You shuddered at the redhead’s gleaming smirk, her voice a husked whisper, “Get those clothes off and get on the bed for me, baby. Now.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Your reply was instant, Natasha’s grin only widening as you’d shed your layers, kneeling on the mattress’s soft sheets. They were cold, goosebumps settling up your spine yet you wouldn’t move, eyes trained obediently on Natasha. You were so perfect for her. 

Natasha’s mouth would return to Wanda’s, pressing her into the faux wall that had outlined the bedroom. Her hand would splay against Wanda’s stomach, and you saw how she hiked up the shirt there, continuing to palm her tits while unclasping Wanda’s bra with the other. She’d pepper kisses across the brunette’s neck, sucking hickeys the lower she’d go. 

They’d part only so Wanda’s top could come completely off, your director keeping a claiming touch on Wanda’s hip as she’d look back at you over her shoulder. Her hair was wild, mused from Wanda’s hands slung loosely around her shoulders while her expression remained flushed, dark eyes darting down to the slick that pooled between your legs. Wanda’s voice would ring to you, almost reverent as her hips would stutter against Natasha’s, “She’s fucking drooling for us, Tasha..” 

The redhead would bite back a smirk as she’d watch you twitch. You ached to touch them, yourself, anything- your hands already balled into fists on your thighs, legs rubbing together, desperate for friction. But neither had given the command, and you had an inkling from their hungry looks that they wanted you needy, right where they had you. Natasha’s rasp came second, “Then show her what I taught you.”

Wanda would reach you first, discarding the rest of her clothes in the process. Her hands trailed warm touches up your legs and to your chest, digging into your soft flesh as her lips would meet yours. It was explosive, sweet and tender yet with a ferocity that claimed you quickly, heating up your skin as her knee would slot between your thighs. You’d feel Natasha’s calloused fingers on the small of your back, the sinking of her weight in the mattress behind you, and her tone husked in your ear, “Stretch her out for me, Wan- like we practiced.” Your director’s words sent a buzz to your core, cunt grinding mercilessly into the sheets below as Wanda’s hand would trail there, dragging two fingers along your folds before arcing dazzling circles around your clit. 

You’d eagerly press your hips into her touch, moaning lowly as she’d chuckle, “So wet for me, sweetheart…bet I can just slip right in.” She’d coax her fingers inside, your pussy walls taking her gladly as Wanda curled her digits against that spongy spot. Your back would arch, head growing fuzzy as you’d feel your slick drip down her hand. Her thumb would press into your clit as you’d buck your hips against her, cursing a quick “Fuck-” which was quickly swallowed up by Wanda’s mouth. She’d bite your lip, dragging it with her teeth as she’d settle into her rhythm, spare hand palming your tits with a rougher grasp, “Been waiting for this, haven’t you sweetheart- pretty whore, just for us.”

 “Mhm, good girl just wants to be fucked, don’t you?” Natasha would grit, and you could see her stroking something behind your back. She’d unzipped her slacks- her strap heavy in her hand, glistening with the spit she’d gathered in her palm. Natasha bucked her hips against her hold, cursing as the cock’s base would rub against her clit. She looked incredible, sweat across her brow as her hand would clench around the toy, like she could feel it. “Keep going, Wands- want her perfect for my dick.”

 Natasha would pant, breathing ragged as her hand moved in time with Wanda’s fingers- curling into you almost torturously, feeling your cunt clench around her. The brunette’s kiss would claim you again, moaning into her warmth as her thumb would circle your clit. She’d sigh almost lovingly, fondness overtaking her expression as your head found the crook of her neck, “She’s already perfect, Tasha-” She’d coo, although her hand wouldn’t stop, gasping at the squelching sound of her fingers up your cunt, “This pussy was made for us, darling.” 

Their words and touch brought you so close, yet Wanda’s hands slowed down when she felt your legs quiver or your breathing seize up, never giving you what you needed. You’d squirm against Wanda, begging for more, a lingering touch, anything-  “Please, Wan- I‘m so close,” You whined, earning a tut from your costar. She’d devour your pleas, lost to time as her mouth would reach yours, softer than before. You felt her sympathetic smile against you as she’d shake her head, locking eyes with Natasha’s heavy stare, “Not yet, sweetheart..It’s not my turn anymore.”

The redhead groaned when Wanda slid her fingers out of you, her fingers shimmering with your arousal. Your walls fluttered around nothing, aching for anyone’s touch as you felt Natasha’s rugged grasp on your hips, pulling you up and back so your pelvis was against hers. The strap had warmed in her hand, dragging between your legs. You were dripping for her, soft sparks of pleasure seizing you as her tip would brush against your clit. Her voice would thunder through you, almost delirious with her own need, “Fucking finally..want this pussy all to myself…” 

Wanda would chuckle at that, your director kneading at your hips as Wanda’s thighs settled in front of your mouth, your arms propping yourself just above her soaked cunt. “We promised to share, Tasha..” She’d croon, face flushed and touch softer than Natasha’s as she’d cradle your face in her palms, “Such a pretty girl..are you ready for your reward, darling?” You nodded, a flurry of sensation hitting you all at once- Natasha’s strap sinking into you as the redhead would push your shoulder blades down, pressing your face between Wanda’s legs. 

The stretch was incredible, the woman behind you vicious as she’d drive her dick into you, bottoming out as your mouth would be smothered against Wanda’s cunt. Each thrust would drive Wanda crazy, your gasps and whimpers vibrating right into her core, especially as you’d flat your tongue against her clit, suckling on the sensitive nub. Her thighs would threaten to shut on you, her stretched words lost in your pussydrunk haze, “Yes, like that sweetheart- such a good girl..-” Natasha would rock her hips into yours, pace bruising as she’d pull your thighs flush to hers. You’d hear her muffled curses as she’d bottom out again, sighing as if she could feel you clench around her. “Baby..fuck, so perfect for us…” Wanda’s hands would thread into your hair, anchoring her hold on you as she’d press your face further into her cunt. 

The sight would echo a curse from Natasha’s mouth, her hips growing a little more erratic, “Fucking christ, she’s our perfect little whore, aren’t you baby-” You’d try to nod, moaning as Natasha’s hand would press further into your back, keeping you from moving an inch, “Don’t even think, baby- just fucking take it, fuck-” 

Time would seem to slow, your brain fuzzing into blissful static as you’d feel Wanda’s thighs tremor around your head, her grip tightening as she’d see your body tremble in Natasha’s touch. “Come with me, sweetheart- be a good girl and come for Mommy.” Her saccharine words spurred you into a blinding release, your tongue working Wanda through her orgasm as your body quaked with your own. You’d feel Natasha follow shortly thereafter, cursing aloud as she’d pull herself out of you, watching as you’d clench around nothing. Her hands would immediately find your waist, bringing you gently up to kneel with your back against her clothed front. 

Panting, your arms would shake as you’d catch your breath, leaning up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You could feel both women’s eyes on you as you’d suckle on your fingers, cleaning up with an exaggerated moan, looking towards Wanda as you’d pop your hand out of your mouth, your words almost dreamy, “Mmm, so good, Wan..” You’d giggle as Wanda’s face would alight in blush, although the clink of metal and fabric drove you away from your teasing.

Natasha’s hands would be rushed as she’d pull her pants and harness down, eyes heavy with a lust that made you shudder, “Switch with me, Wands-” She’d grit, thrusting the strap in her general direction before settling calloused palms on your still quivering thighs, her gaze boring into yours, “It’s my turn for her mouth.” 

Wanda’s smirk was immediate, sending you another sly wink, “Gladly.” 

------------------------------------------

Unbeknownst to the three of you, the cameras had never stopped rolling. That film would never be seen by the public, kept hidden once you left the building. Not to say it couldn't be enjoyed by you three, though.

Natasha and Wanda took you out to coffee afterwards as the brunette had promised. They explained their prior agreement to ‘test the waters’ with you, Wanda working with Natasha on a plan to woo you both in and out of character. The date went well, although with much less lingering glances and more almost-fucking in the back of Wanda’s car afterwards. It was there that the public and paparazzi learned of your relationship, although their camera flash thankfully stopped any romance before it got good. You weren’t on a porn set, after all- and Wanda kept your half-nude form hidden while Natasha cursed out the press. All in a day’s work. 

Unfortunately, the day’s work began anew the next day. Filming the romance scene was no difficult measure now, but Natasha’s grin and Wanda’s wandering hands blurred the lines of professionalism. The film crew couldn’t care less, a few of them- such as Kate, a script supervisor- mentioned how they knew it would happen eventually (and won a bet with Peter, who said it’d take until the award show for you three to get together). 

However, once you three escaped into Natasha’s office for some ‘paperwork’ as she’d called it, it didn’t matter. They were yours, and that was enough.  ~~~

[girlgenius1111]

throw it all away

part 1 of 2 if no one is noticing any changes, there must not be a problem. but then, someone does notice. and there is a problem. that just isn't a reality you really feel like accepting. [putellas!reader]... alexia realizes you're struggling. how does she help you with something she doesn't understand? tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.

—

“You’ve lost weight.” 

It wasn’t said with an impressed nod or smile. It wasn’t said like a benchmark you’d met. It wasn’t said like it was a good thing.

Somehow, you knew it wouldn’t be. 

Instead, the physio’s voice was gentle, concerned. He spoke to you like he knew how you got here, but he couldn’t. How could he know?

No one noticed. Not your teammates, not your friends. Not Spain’s physios. Not even your sister. 

And that’s what you wanted. 

“Okay…” You said, like you didn‘t understand why he’d  brought this up. 

“Not a little weight. Enough that I’m concerned.” His eyes were squinted a little, like he was trying to see right through you. Still, you maintained your composure, kept your face blank. 

“Well, I didn’t have much of an off season. It’s been pretty nonstop even since the end of the league season. I’m just in shape.” 

He shook his head, now looking almost pityingly at you. “That’s what the issue is? You’re sure?” 

You did what you’d been doing for months: you lied. 

“Yep. Can’t think of anything else it could be.” Your tone was light, even as the weight of the unspoken words settled heavily on your chest. 

“We have to be careful with these things, you understand. We’ll change up your meal plan, and see how you are in a week. You’ll be on light training anyway, like the rest of the girls coming back. If it’s a matter of being overworked, we’ll get you back healthy in no time.”

He didn’t say what would happen if things didn’t go back to normal; if this wasn’t just being overworked. He didn’t need to. He was giving you a chance to correct this yourself before he has to involve the doctors and the coaches. And your sister. He was giving you a chance to fix this before it became a much, much bigger deal. 

As you left the medical room, you wished more than anything that this was a chance you could take, but you knew that it wasn’t. 

—

You knew the physio had opened his mouth a week later when he came out during a water break to pull Alexia, Irene, and Pere aside. He spoke to them quietly for a few minutes, all three of them furtively looking over at you every so often. You knew what you were in for when you got home; probably a very angry Alexia. Angry that you were jeopardizing your career and your health, throwing all your hard work away. For Alexia, football was the most important thing in the world. Sometimes it felt like it was more important than you, and you knew that she wouldn’t understand this. She would see what you were going through as a weakness, something you needed to quickly resolve, and get back to the most important thing. 

It was just that you weren’t capable of handling Angry Alexia right now. Not when you already felt kind of faint from training on an empty stomach, horribly grumpy because you were fucking hungry, and honestly still in denial that anything was wrong. It would lead to a whole blow up fight you didn’t want to get into, and as such, you weren’t looking forward to going home. Alexia surprised you. 

She’d started off angry, moving to stomp over, grab you, and haul you home so she could yell, when Irene grabbed her wrist and encouraged her to just listen for a second. 

“This is going to ruin her season.” Alexia seethed. “Does she not realize that she’s hurting the team?”

Irene regarded her incredulously for a moment, having to remind herself that the other woman’s brain just worked differently than hers. “Ale, she’s hurting herself. Whatever she’s doing isn’t a selfish decision she’s making. She’s sick.” 

Your sister grew quiet, chewing on her lip as she thought through Irene’s words. 

“You can’t yell, Ale. You can’t be mad at her. She needs help, and she isn’t going to want to accept it. You have to be careful with this, gentle and patient and kind. Okay?” Irene said, staring hard at her co captain. 

“Yeah.” Alexia said quietly. “Pedro, do you know why… or how?” 

Pedro shook his head, worry clouding his face. “I asked her about it a week ago, and she pretended she had no idea what I was talking about. I told her she had a week to get back on track, but she didn’t. I don’t know how, or why. Those are both questions for your sister.” 

Alexia nodded, her gaze stuck on where you were stretching, just inside the gym tent. “Pere, can we go? I need to talk to her, and I know there needs to be a conversation with everyone, but she’ll just feel cornered if that’s where we start. I want to take her home to talk.” 

Pere agreed immediately, telling Alexia to take as much time as she needed, and reach out to the club for any help they could provide at all. Irene walked with the blonde in the direction of the tent, her arm slung across Alexia’s shoulders. 

“She isn’t going to want to talk to me.” Alexia murmured. “She hates talking about her feelings, especially with me.” 

Irene frowned. “You’re her sister. She trusts you more than she trusts anyone. Just stay calm and don’t get angry. I know when you worry you tend to get angry, but try not to let that happen. It won’t help.” 

Alexia nodded, having arrived at the entryway of the gym. Irene patted her on the back, telling her to call if she needed help, before she headed inside. She called you over, receiving a few odd looks from her teammates at the strange tone of her voice. 

Your sister could see how terrified you looked, even from all the way across the gym. Her heart clenched at the brave face you were trying to put on; it didn’t hide how scared you were.  

“Yeah?” You said, trying to act casual as you walked over to your sister, even though you felt kind of dizzy, and your head was pounding with a headache, not to mention the anxiety that was coursing through your veins. 

“We’re going home, we need to talk.” Her tone wasn’t clipped or sharp like you expected it to be. Her face wasn’t set with anger, her hands weren’t clenched into fists at her side. She looked strangely… calm. 

“Talk? About what?” You questioned, feeling defensive even if your sister wasn’t mad. 

“We’ll talk about it when we’re home. Let’s go.” With that, she led you out of the tent, back towards the main building. You stumbled slightly, the dizziness and nerves combining to make you a bit unsteady. 

Your sister steadied you, both her hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

If you’d had any hopes that Alexia didn’t know what was going on, those disappeared. Her eyes flitted over you, her grip strong, as if she was worried you’d collapse or something. 

“Nothing. I’m fine.” Your voice was shaking, for a reason you weren’t quite sure of. 

Alexia softened, surprising you as she wrapped her arms around you tightly, pulling you into a hug. It was nice, comforting, and you sank into it, taking just a moment to allow yourself to be weak. 

It wasn’t comforting for your sister. Suddenly, all she could feel was the bones of your spine, more pronounced than they should be. It was a noticeable difference, and she knew that it likely felt more dramatic than it really was, considering the information the physio had given her, that this wasn’t that bad yet, that it was fixable. Still, your sister wanted to cry at how small you seemed against her. 

More than that, she wanted to cry that she hadn’t noticed this happening. 

—

You kept waiting for her to blow up. All the way to the locker room and to the car, all the way home, but she didn’t. She watched you carefully out of the corner of her eye, she carried your bag for you, and she insisted you drink an entire water bottle on the drive home. Alexia was worried, more than she was upset, and that was beginning to terrify you. 

She didn’t even really talk upon arriving home. She just set your bag down, looking around for Olga like the brunette would have all the answers to fix this. 

“Go shower, we can talk after, okay?” Alexia said over her shoulder, disappearing in the direction of the office Olga worked out of during the day. 

As you headed up the stairs, you wondered if the screen still slid out from your window as easily as it used to, when sneaking out was a bit of a habit. 

You wondered if your body could even take the jump down to the ground underneath your window. You wondered whether you even cared, if it meant that you’d get away from this conversation, escape the walls closing in around you.

—

Downstairs, Alexia was pacing a hole in the rug spread across the office floor. Olga was watching her march back and forth, waiting for her girlfriend to talk herself out, which she didn’t seem anywhere close to doing. 

“How could I miss this? Do I not pay enough attention? Is this my fault? Have I pushed her too hard? How long has this been going on? How did no one notice before now? What if-”

Olga stood, grabbing her girlfriend’s hands and putting her movements to a stop. “Amor, take a second. Relax. None of these questions need to be answered right now.” 

Alexia leaned almost imperceptibly into her girlfriend’s touch, desperate for anyone to tell her what to do here. 

“We need to talk to her. That’s where we start, and that is going to be hard, Ale. She probably doesn’t want to hear anything we have to say about this, and she might lash out, but you have to remember how much she must be hurting right now. You have to be patient, okay?” 

Alexia nodded her jaw tightening as her resolve strengthened. She’d be the most patient person in the world, if that’s what you needed. She’d do anything you needed her to, but the possibility that this wasn’t something that she could fix for you was terrifying her. She just wanted to help. 

—

When you came back downstairs after your shower, you knew you were in for an intervention. Ale and Olga were sitting on the couch next to each other, speaking in hushed tones. You approached them warily, sitting in the armchair across from the couch. 

Your sister took a deep breath, her eyes scanning over the piece of paper on the sofa next to her. It was a few notes that Pedro had given her, a few reminders she had for herself, and a few that Olga had added. 

Don’t get angry. She needs help, she doesn’t need your anger. 

Don’t push too hard, but don’t let her off with excuses.

 Be firm, but be kind. 

Don’t threaten to tell Mami, because she’ll just run. 

“I’m not mad.” Alexia started. Now that you were sure she wasn’t going to yell at you, you realized how much easier that would have been. You hated the concern on her face, the worry in her eyes. “You were looking at me earlier like I’d be mad at you, but I’m not mad.”

“Why would you be mad?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Playing dumb always infuriated your sister, yet this time, she didn’t take the bait. 

“I talked to Pedro and Pere earlier. Pedro has some concerns, about you.” Your sister paused, looking at her girlfriend next to her, as if for reassurance. Olga nodded encouragingly, and Alexia straightened up. “I think you know what these concerns are, hermana.”

“I don’t.” You said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate you talking about me behind my back.” 

“You do.” Alexia said, still annoyingly calmly. 

“I really don’t, Alexia.” 

“Pequeña, please. I know that you aren’t okay. You don’t have to lie to me about that.” 

You wilted a little, eyes anywhere but on your sister, but she leaned forward, seeing an opportunity; a fracture in your walls. 

“I want you to be okay. I want you to get better, healthier.” Alexia said gently, her eyes flickering to the piece of paper in front of her every so often. It was a mix of her handwriting and Olga’s, though you couldn’t make out what it said. 

“I am better. I am healthier, Ale.” You argued weakly, finally looking at your sister. You half believed yourself, half knew that you were very far from healthy, the two conflicting sides waging war in your head. Would it be easier to admit defeat? To break down and let your sister fix you? You found that you didn’t really want to be fixed.

“Hermanita, this isn’t okay. You can’t keep going like this. It’s not safe.”

You shook your head defiantly, a single tear tracking down your cheek. “Alexia, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”

You didn’t think about the times you’ve cried yourself to sleep after having no choice but to eat a full dinner. You didn’t think about the way everything is just a touch more exhausting, now. You couldn’t think about that, you wouldn’t. You were fine. Why couldn’t Alexia see that? 

She just stared at you, blinking rapidly. Fighting back tears, you realized with a start. Her hand gripped Olga’s tightly, and you couldn’t fight the wave of guilt that hit you like a truck. She was worried, and you knew she should be. Somewhere deep inside, you knew. And that was the most terrifying part. 

“Cariño, I am so worried. You aren’t okay, I don’t understand how you can’t see that. You are an athlete, you know you need to fuel your body in the right way. You know this isn’t normal. Can’t you admit that?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, for the first time showing even a hint of emotion. It wasn’t anger, or sadness. It was fear. 

“I have it under control, Ale. I promise you, it’s under control.” Your voice wobbled, no confidence at all behind your words. Alexia shut her eyes tightly for a minute before blinking then open and looking at you in a much more intense way. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

You stood up, feeling a flare of anger surge through you. “I don’t care what you believe.” Moving to walk out the front door, though not sure where you were going, you froze at the sound of Alexia’s voice behind you. 

“You can leave, but we’re still going to have this conversation. I can wait, but the sooner we talk, the sooner you’ll be allowed back at training, and back on the team sheet.” 

You whirled around, hands balling into fists at your sides. “Since when am I off the team sheet?!” 

“Since today.” Alexia didn’t raise her voice to match yours, and she didn’t stand either. She remained sitting next to Olga, both of them looking at you so sympathetically, it made you want to sprint out of the house that instant. 

“How could you do that?” 

Alexia almost flinched at the genuinely betrayed tone of your voice, but she just shook her head. 

“I didn’t do anything, pequeña. The physios and Pere made this decision themselves, based off the information they have.” She replied, nodding towards the chair across from her again. “The only way you’re being allowed anywhere near training is if you talk.” 

“I don’t want to talk about this.” You snapped, throwing yourself down in the chair. 

“Well, we have to. I won’t watch you hurt yourself like this without saying anything.”

You flinched like she’d struck you. “I am not hurting myself, Alexia. I have it under control, it’s not dangerous, it’s not anything. It’s fine.” 

“You are hurting yourself. I don’t know how, but I know that you are. Whatever you are doing to make sure your body doesn’t gain weight is hurting you!” 

"You're being ridiculous, Alexia. Completely ridiculous." You spat back.

Nothing Alexia was saying was working. You remained just as defiant, just as frustrated. Nostrils flaring, hands clenched into fists, you refused to back down. 

Olga squeezed her girlfriend's hand, the blonde falling silent as she did so. 

“Pequeña, listen to me. We both love you so much. You are my sister, maybe not by blood, but in all the ways that count. And when you care about someone, it’s so hard to watch them go through something like this.”  

Olga’s voice was soft and gentle and somehow, the most threatening thing you’d heard. It was the way she looked at you, the way she spoke; like she knew what she was about to say would challenge you. 

“If this was anyone else doing what you’re doing, you’d have something to say. If this was a friend or a teammate, and you saw them doing this, you’d do something. Am I wrong?”

You found that you couldn’t lie, so you just shook your head. 

“Give yourself that same kindness. Give yourself that same love and care. You would get someone else help if they needed it, no matter what. Can you let us help you?”

Another tear ran down your cheek, your lip trembling as you fought to hold back your sobs. Only Olga’s hand in hers kept Alexia from leaping over the coffee table and pulling you into a hug. 

“I’m scared. I don’t want to.” You said finally. Your eyes fixed on Olga, refusing to look over at your sister and see the disappointment you knew was simmering. 

“But you need to. And you know you need to.” Olga said carefully. She watched as an array of emotions flashed across your face, until you finally landed on… resigned. 

“I… I don’t know where to start.” 

“That’s okay!” Alexia jumped in. “You don’t need to know. We can take it one step at a time. We’ll get through this, hermanita, I promise.” 

The way Alexia was talking made your stomach twist. There was no ‘we’ here. Alexia didn’t close her eyes when she got dressed in the morning, didn’t turn her back to the mirror before she showered. She didn’t have to come up with excuses to go to the bathroom after a big meal, she didn’t know exactly how to move her food around her plate to look like she’d eaten more than she had. Alexia loved you, and you had no doubt that this was hurting her, but there was no comparison to what you’d been putting yourself through. Alexia couldn’t fix this for you, couldn’t even really fix it with you. It was something you had to entirely be committed to, recovery, something that would take strength from the deepest parts of you. Alexia couldn’t promise that you’d get through it. It wasn’t up to her.

You didn’t say any of that to your sister. What good would that have done? Instead, you dropped your head into your hands, and tried to breathe. You still couldn’t quite believe this was happening, and a part of you wished you’d wake up and it would all be some horrible dream, and no one would actually know. Another part of you, though, felt like sobbing in relief that someone had finally noticed. 

Unbeknownst to you, Alexia and Olga were having a silent conversation. Alexia wanted to drag you into the kitchen and make you eat lunch, since she was absolutely sure that you hadn’t had breakfast. She wanted to talk, and talk some more, and find you a therapist, and call her Mami and tell her what was going on. She wanted to do every little thing she could think of, because she was sure if she tried hard enough, she could control this enough for you to be okay.

Olga knew better. She looked at you and could tell that you were barely restraining yourself from curling up into a ball and crying. She knew trying to make you eat a full meal in the way Alexia intended to right now would push you too hard. She knew that you needed time and space to process and breathe. The brunette could see how easily you’d be overwhelmed here, and it was this knowledge that had her firmly telling Alexia what she was to do. 

“Go upstairs and shower. I’ve got her.” She whispered, kissing Alexia’s cheek softly. 

Her girlfriend looked at her in confusion, both of them exchanging a few glances before Alexia gave in. 

“Please try to get her to eat something.” The blonde whispered back, standing and beginning to head upstairs. She paused at your chair, opening her mouth to say something before thinking better of it. Instead, she just kissed the crown of your head and headed upstairs. 

Only once Olga heard the shower turn on upstairs did she finally move, walking around the coffee table and crouching in front of you. 

“Nena?” She called softly. 

You looked up apprehensively. 

“What do you need right now? You tell me, and that’s what we’ll do.” 

Control. Olga was giving you control, but you didn’t know what to do with it. You felt overwhelmingly lost, not even sure if you could put one foot in front of the other without someone telling you how to. 

“I… don’t know.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders. 

“That’s okay.” Olga assured you. “We don’t have to talk any more today, but I’d like you to try to eat something. It doesn’t have to be big, or a whole meal, but something. Is there anything you’d like?” 

No, there wasn’t, you wanted to snap. That was part of the problem. Instead of snapping, though, you found yourself thinking. “Protein shake?” You requested shakily. 

Olga nodded, smiling proudly at you. “Protein shake and a piece of toast, I think.” 

You found yourself agreeing, somehow, rising from your chair and following Olga into the kitchen. You tried to think of what would be worse; eating or talking. Both seemed like pretty abysmal choices, but Olga set your small meal down in front of you, and you knew there wasn’t really a choice. As quickly as it had been handed over to you, you felt the control slipping out of your grasp. The shower turned off upstairs, and you reached for the glass, bracing yourself for everything you were about to feel, and everything Alexia was probably about to say.

—

back in my two parter era. let me know what you all think :)

[wandaromanoffroses]

"Isn't she gorgeous?"

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Requested

Warnings: 18+ content, breast sucking, fingering (R receiving), orgasm denial, strap-on use (R receiving), cock-sucking, vaginal sex, degrading, praising, profanity

Summary: Your husband, Steve Rogers, has been romantically and sexually starving you ever since he became an Avenger. After borrowing money from notorious crime leader, Natasha Romanoff, she breaks into your house to get what she's owed. However, when she finds you, his gorgeous wife innocently asleep next to him, you catch her interest and her plans change instantly.

Pairings: top dom!Natasha Romanoff x bottom sub!reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (nothing romantic or sexual happens)

Trigger Warnings: blood, gun wound, reference to implied SA (blink and you'll miss it).

“Y/n?” you nearly sent the plate in your hand flying to the floor, dropping it into the washing bowl before spinning around to see your husband in the doorway. You shook your head, sure that your eyes were deceiving you. He was never here even when he promised, never mind three weeks early. 

“Steve,” you said, drying your hands and rushing over to him but before you could pull him into a hug, he caught a hold of your shoulders to stop you. His touch sent a stab of pain into your chest and you were snapped back to reality, falling away from the lingers of a past moment you had momentarily forgotten wasn’t your present. You straightened your figure and took a step back, looking up at the man that had once been the light of your life, a guide in the darkness, someone special to share all the good with but now, he could’ve been a stranger.

You had been married for three years, together for five and the first few years would be the most treasured moments of your life. But ever since he had become an Avenger, it had consumed his sole purpose. 

Steve was always out fighting, carving his mark, making the world proud of his heroism while you stayed at home doing chores and completing mindless activities to pass the time. There was once a time where you could’ve sworn you saw Universes in his eyes. Now, his skin had been drained of colour and his eyes were rimmed with red as if he were a ghost that was forever cursed to haunt his loved ones. “What are you doing here?” you quizzed.

“I’m sorry," he said, bowing his head, “I’ve got into a bit of trouble, I wanted to make sure you were safe.” You frowned. 

“What trouble?” you questioned, “is there a villain after you? Can’t the Avengers help you?” You didn’t even bother hiding the bitterness in my voice. They were clearly everything he ever needed, what use were you to him? He sighed.

“Not exactly,” he said, “we should probably sit down.” You followed him into the dining room with caution in your steps, not taking your eyes off him. The walls were a fading, off-white, elaborate flowers twisted between leaves and detailed patterns, wooden panelling running along across the bottom. The light fixture in the centre was brass with three upturned light bulbs, the dining tables and chairs a polished rosewood. Steve had wanted the room like this because it reminded him of his Grandmother. It was awkward to clean and there was always a build of dust in here. You took a seat opposite him.

“What’s going on?” you said. He scratched the back of his neck.

“I know what you’re going to think but… alright I’ll just tell you. I took out a loan from someone a bit dodgy and I haven’t quite paid them back.” You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s ‘haven’t quite’ supposed to mean?” you said, raising your voice. 

“I haven’t paid them back, okay?” he exclaimed, “look, all I wanted to do was buy you a new house, I wanted to make you happy since you hate this one so much. I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to spoil my girl.” Generosity – the easiest attainable remedy for guilt.

“Well, I see something wrong with borrowing money you can’t pay back, especially from somebody that can put you and other people in danger,” you said, pushing yourself onto your feet, “what were you thinking Steve?” He slammed his fists onto the table and you jumped, your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“Listen, I thought I would have the money by now. It’s not my fault I can’t see into the future, you know I wouldn’t have even thought about it if I knew.” You closed your eyes, exhaling a long breath, trying to keep your composure. There were a hundred things you wanted to say to him right now but it wasn’t worth it. You either lived in peace or chaos; either way, nothing changed. 

“I thought I knew a lot of things about you but they turned out to all be wrong,” you said, “so I don’t know anymore. Nothing you do surprises me.” You stormed back into the kitchen, not wanting him to waste anymore of your time. You had dishes to do and by now, the water would’ve gone cold. 

“Y/n, come on. You haven’t seen me in three months and this is how you’re going to treat me?”

“I have dishes to do,” you said, picking up the plate you had dropped before, polishing it until it shone in the dim light peeking through the curtains, “someone has to keep the house clean.” And clearly, it wasn’t going to him. You felt a firm hand on my shoulder and all the muscles in your body tensed.

“I know you’re mad at me.” You scoffed. Mad wasn’t the right word – it was an array of messy emotions tangled together that had been fraying for years. There was more than just anger here, that was just an old friend that had withered and grown back into something much more cruel now. “Just please… let me make it up to you. I could die on a mission one day you know, you never know when one of these moments could be our last.” He had tried guilt tripping you before – it was a simple yet effective way of shifting blame onto the other person to ease your conscience. These games were getting so predictable. 

“And I’d be the last one to know,” you said, “maybe if I was lucky, I’d see it on the news.” You placed the last plate on the drying rack, emptying the washing-up bowl before walking away to leave him standing in the kitchen, alone. 

..........................................................................

You had avoided Steve as if he were the plague for the rest of the evening, only tolerating him in the same room as you when you went to give him his dinner. If you were nothing but his little housewife, you may as well play the part and poke it in his face. While you were getting ready for bed, you had paused by his chest of drawers, remembering the divorce papers you had hidden beneath the shirts he had outgrown or didn’t like anymore. Most of them had been bought by you and you could recall a memory with your husband in every single one. Maybe another day.

You couldn’t sleep but you kept your eyes tight shut when you heard him enter and move around the bedroom. Why didn’t you just sleep in the living room?, you thought as he slipped under the covers beside you. You figured he’d probably leave before you were awake so in his mind, you wouldn't even know. Dickhead. You didn’t know how much time had passed but you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you see is blinding white.

“Steve, turn the lights off…” You let out a scream when a gunshot sounded through the room, colliding with your husband’s cry of pain. Your eyes flew open and immediately fell on the figure standing at the end of your bed, her ravishing, blood-soaked hair curled onto her shoulder, her eyes glittering with shattered pieces of jade. Your heart seemed to freeze in your chest. Natasha Romanoff – the most notorious leader of crime in the world. And she was here, in your bedroom. 

You turned to Steve and let out a strangled sob, the sight of scarlet soaking into the bed sheets making you dizzy. You heard the click of heels behind you and Natasha took a fistful of your nightgown before you could even process what was happening, pulling you away from him as if you were a mere feather. You screamed again and if it wasn’t for her strong grip on you, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

She waited until you were steady enough to stand on your own two feet, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her body. She was wearing a dress that emphasised all her curves and showcased most of her skin, your body flooding with dread. This woman was able to shoot Captain America without any protective clothing like it was nothing. There was no way out of this situation. We were doomed. I felt something hard in her crotch area, confused as to why she was carrying such a bulky item in her pockets.

“Leave her alone,” Steve whispered, his voice faint and overshadowed by anguish. 

“Get on the floor and don’t say another word unless I ask you a question or she’ll have to watch you die,” she snapped, “neither of us want that to happen, do we?” With resentment, he hobbled away from the bed, stumbling over to the wall and sliding himself down it, his hand clutched to the gun wound in his stomach. “Good.” She ran a finger down your cheek before beginning to trace your features, her head tilted to the side. “You didn’t tell anyone you had a wife, Rogers. Isn’t she gorgeous?” You shivered in her hold, her voice low and seductive. “What’s your name, pretty?”

“Y-Y/n,” you trembled, wishing you could strangle the butterflies in your stomach that her touch had provoked. This was insanity – she had just shot your husband and she was threatening to murder him yet she was making you nervous, in a romantic way. God, if only Natasha wasn’t so beautiful, this would be a whole lot easier. 

“Y/n Rogers?” she said, giving you a fake pout, “that doesn’t sound very nice, does it? Y/n Romanoff has a much nicer ring to it.” A crease formed between your eyebrows. What the hell was she implying? “Rogers, I’m willing to strike up a deal with you. But first, I’m going to fuck your wife until the only name she’ll remember is mine.” His eyes widened in horror and you let out a cry. 

“Natasha, that’s assault. You can’t,” Steve said. She smirked.

“Oh there won’t be any need for that,” she said, “it won’t take much for her to beg me for more.” She pushed you down onto the bed and straddled your lap, a pool of wetness already forming between your legs. This was so fucked up. “Give me consent and I’ll make you feel so good baby, better than you’ve ever felt. All you have to do is say the word.” 

You considered all your options but it didn’t take you long to decide since you only had two. You either let Natasha fuck you or you watched Steve die. You could treat it like a one night stand, you thought. You had never experienced one yourself but you’d read it in books so surely you would be able to do it.

Though you knew deep down, part of you wanted this. You were desperately touch starved and the thought of Natasha fucking you made you groan, heat rushing to your cheeks as the sound escape your mouth. You nodded and she gripped your jaw.

“Words bitch.”

“Yes,” you said, looking away from her in shame but she forced you to look back at her.

“Good girl,” Natasha said, lowering herself onto you and colliding her lips with yours, setting all your nerves alight. Her lips felt like velvet against your own, melting against you and setting a slow pace, letting you get used to the sensation. You couldn’t remember the last time Steve had kissed you, never mind like this. 

When your hand moved to her chest, she knew she’d won and she began kissing you with more passion, her teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You gasped and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue between the gap in your teeth. You didn’t even bother fighting against her, wanting Natasha to take full control and use you however she pleased. 

She separated your lips and began kissing your neck, her teeth ruthless against your skin as she began to mark you, leaving a trail of garnet blotches that would be seen by everyone. “Tell him how much you like this.” As much as you wished it wasn’t true, you were very much enjoying this. It was a terrible thing to admit to your husband but you had to remind yourself that his life was at stake here.

“I love it, I love being marked by you,” you said, “please don’t stop.” She pulled away when she reached your chest, reaching down and taking hold of your nightgown. 

“Can I take this off angel?”

“Please,” you said, ignoring that Steve was in the same room as you. You wanted this, you needed this, you hadn’t had sex in so long. Too long. She lifted herself off your waist for a few moments so she could discard you of your nightgown before continuing her path down your chest, stopping right before she reached your breasts. 

“So beautiful,” Natasha said before taking one of your nipples between her fingers and rolling it, earning her your loudest groan yet. She began to fondle the other roughly and the pain was soon replaced with pleasure that went straight in between your legs. You were a moaning mess beneath her, your forehead glistening with sweat and your breaths loud and sharp. “Listen to that, Rogers. Does she make these sweet, sweet noises for you? Do you Y/n? Tell me.”

“No,” I said, “only for you.” She tutted.

“Oh sweetheart, he doesn’t deserve you,” she said, “it’s okay, I’m going to take care of you now.” She ran her hands down your stomach and attached her mouth to your hardened nipple, your mind unable to decide what to concentrate on. She slipped her fingers beneath your panties and began snapping it against your skin, causing you to start bucking your hips into her. 

“I need you,” you said. You expected her to make you wait but her expression softened as she began sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them in Steve’s direction. “Look how she ruined them for me. If you weren’t so neglectful, this could’ve been you, Rogers. Don’t you ever forget that.” You gasped as the palm of her hand pressed against your cunt, brushing against your swollen clint. “So wet.”

“Natasha, please…”

“Beg,” she said, running her fingers through your folds and collecting your arousal, “let him hear you.”

“Please Natasha,” you said, “I need you to fuck me so bad. I need you inside of me, please make me cum.” Your words made her groan and you whimpered as you felt her push two fingers inside of you, giving you only a few seconds to adjust before she began thrusting in and out of you at a quickened pace. You felt a burning sting, grabbing her wrist to try and slow her down. “Nat, it’s too much, it hurts.” 

“What do you mean sweetie? Does he have a small cock?” There was a cruel glint in her eye when the realisation dawned on her. “He hasn’t fucked you in a longtime has he? How long has it been?” You were struggling to form coherent sentences at this point.

“Six months,” you admitted. He visited so little and he was always exhausted when he did, hardly even giving you any affection, never mind fulfilling your physical needs. You had shamefully been trying to fuck yourself for over a year now but you were either too embarrassed to keep at it for long or you were eventually forced to give up, too inexperienced to make yourself cum. You had never used more than one finger so you weren’t used to the stretch at all.

“You’re telling me your husband had access to this cunt anytime he wanted but he chose not to fuck you for half a year?” What a waste of such a perfect pussy,” she said, “shh, it’s okay, it’ll feel so good in a minute.” As if to prove her point, porn-worthy moans began to spill from your mouth as you were drowned in overwhelming bliss. She knew she had found that one spot inside of you when your noises became more intense and more wetness gushed from your entrance, the squelches of your arousal echoing around the room. You took fistfuls of the duvet beneath you in your hands, your walls began to clench around her fingers. But just before you reached your high, Natasha slipped her fingers out of you.

“No,” you cried, “I was so close.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Not just yet,” she said, “I want you to cum on my cock.” You blinked up at her in confusion, not understanding what she meant. Was she perhaps intersex? “Get on your knees.” You scrambled to obey her command, your thighs glistening with white and she smirked. “Such an obedient thing. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You did so without hesitation and she lifted up her dress and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a lacey bra and boxers. Your eyes fell onto her breasts that were full and sat perfectly, wondering how they’d feel in your hands and in your mouth. You were too distracted to pay attention to Natasha pulling down her boxers until a large, red strapon sprung into your face.

You were sheltered and didn’t have many friends so your knowledge on how two women had sex was low. You had accidentally come across some brief information about strapons while scrolling through social media, closing the app immediately and uninstalling it. You had never told anyone you liked women so any mentions of the topic made you panic and run in the opposite direction. Natasha noticed your hesitation.

“It’s just like sucking a cock,” she said, “you’ve done that, right?” You shook your head. Steve  was a very traditional man so you’d never done anything outside of the very basics. You had always wanted to explore more interesting options but you were too ashamed to ask or discuss any of your preferences with him. “God, so vanilla. Once I show you what you’ve been missing you’ll never want to go back. Do you want to try симпатичный (pretty)?” Her Russian Nickname for you sent a lustful thrum through your body despite the words being foreign and unknown to you. You knew there was only one correct answer to her question but you liked being able to show Natasha how much you desired to follow her orders.

“I’d love to try,” you said, “anything to please you.”

“Good girl,” she husked, nudging your mouth with the strap-on. Her other hand dug into your shoulder as she pushed it inside of your gaping mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

Natasha kept going even when you started choking, tears slipping from your eyes and smearing your makeup. The sight of you, a perfect housewife she had ruined and made a mess of, only made her thrust the toy into your mouth faster, desperately turned on. When she was satisfied that you’d wet it enough, she pulled out, showing enough mercy to let you catch your breath. “You’re already such a good cock-sucker.” She ran her thumb over your plump lips. “Aren’t you glad I put these lips to good use, hmm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, “thank you Natasha.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“So polite. Get on all fours and look at your husband.” You hesitated a little this time, suddenly remembering Steve’s presence. You turned around and followed her commands, your gaze meeting with his. Steve’s pupils were drowned in pain and clouded his emotions so you couldn’t identify them, blood still gushing from his gun wound. 

“Natasha, I think he’s going to die,” I said, “his stomach…” She looked over and saw that he was on the verge of passing out, his blood loss now critical. 

“I fear you’re right,” she said, “I thought we’d have more time with him, shame. Don’t worry милый (darling), he’ll be alright soon.” You heard footsteps thundering up the stairs before the door was flung open and several men dressed head to toe in black burst into the bedroom. You wondered how she had summoned them so quickly but you were too horny to dwell on the thought for long. 

You tried to cover your exposed body, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden but Natasha slapped your hands away. “They won’t look my angel, they wouldn’t even dare. Don’t let them distract you.” You felt something prodding your entrance and you whimpered.

“Please,” you breathed as she circled your entrance with the toy, collecting your arousal. 

“You’re somehow even wetter,” she cooed, “did you really love your face being fucked that much?” Before you could answer she began to push the tip inside, your soaked walls showing no resistance. She didn’t give you anytime to get used to the stretch, pulling out before slamming back into you seconds later. The pain only lasted a few moments before it dissolved into pure pleasure as Natasha pounded into you like a wild animal. You arched your bark, the dirtiest sounds you had ever produced spilling from your mouth and echoing through the room. You somehow managed to lift an arm and point it towards Steve’s shirt drawer.  

“There’s divorce paper,” you strung together between gasps, “in that drawer. I already signed them.” The men followed your finger and moved towards them, aimlessly throwing Steve’s shirts onto the floor. You saw a pang of hurt in Steve’s expression but you didn’t care. He should’ve seen this coming and even if he didn’t, it was his fault anyway.

As the divorce papers and Steve were dragged away, you moved your hips in rhythm with Natasha’s to try and get the strap-on deeper into you, every brush against your walls sending electricity through your body. She gripped your hips, encouraging your movements, grunting each time you slammed back against her. Your groans changed when she found your g-spot again and after that, she made sure to keep hitting it, a knot beginning to tighten in your stomach for the second time that night.

“I need to cum,” you said, “can I this time, please?”

“Such a slut,” she said, “soak my dick baby. Go on.” You screamed her name as you released all over her cock, stars blinding your eyes as your body shook with bliss, each new wave stronger than the last. After the longest orgasm of your life, you finally finished cumming, liquid staining your thighs. But Natasha didn’t stop, moving her hands up to your ass and massaging your cheeks. 

“Natasha, I’ve already cummed,” you said, expecting her to finally pull out but instead, she tutted.

“We’re not finished yet,” she said, “If I wanted to, I could have you cumming all over this cock all night. We’re done when I say we are. You are all mine after all, gorgeous.” After the initial discomfort faded away, you were soaring back up to cloud nine, ready to do whatever Natasha wanted.

“Of course,” you said, “I’m all yours now.”

[tinkerbitch69]

My favourite part of dot and bubble (besides ncuti’s performance in the last scene my god!!!) is that the episode kinda misleads you into thinking Lindy is so dismissive of the doctor and the disappearance of others because of the social media echo chamber she has isolated herself in. That she is scared to leave it and that she could be a better more empathetic person if given the chance to leave.

But then the final scene happens!

All of her actions, from putting Ricky in the firing line before her to lying about it to refusing the help of the doctor because of her thinly veiled racist beliefs, reveal that this refusal to acknowledge the reality around her to the point of putting people in danger and inevitably allowing the problem to become worse was a choice. She was not some innocent victim of media manipulation but had complete agency in her denial of the danger others were and just didn’t care about them.

The reveal is an important part of the episodes critique of social media echo chambers, I think. Their danger isn’t that they obscure information that challenges the users but that they allow people to choose not to be confronted with information that challenges their worldview or their behaviour. Which is an experience vital to developing critical thinking skills and being a compassionate, empathetic human being. But by removing the agency of people who choose not to break from their bubble, we also enable the insularity of these echo chambers!

God I love this episode so much <3_<3

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco - Epilogue

Dead Disco masterlist Ghost/Soap/female reader The end.

You’re having trouble breathing.

It doesn’t help that you’re hiding in the back, peeking around the corner every so often, trying to interpret everyone’s faces. 

It’s terrifying. You’re terrified. 

“Hello?” Lea calls from the other side of the hallway, hands turned upwards like she’s confused. “What are you doing?” 

“Shhh!” You hiss, grabbing her by the wrist. “I’m hiding.” 

“Okay… why are we hiding?” 

“I can’t go out there.” The denial is steadfast, and she shakes her head. 

“You have to. You’re the artist.”

“I know. And that’s why I can’t go. They’re all… looking at me. Judging me.” 

“They’re appreciating you, love. They’re appreciating your work.” You shiver. It’s not just your work out there. It’s a collection of your pieces, moments and feelings worked out on canvas, agony and elation painted together into something called art. 

“I can’t go out there.” You double down, and she rubs your shoulder sympathetically. 

“You have to.” 

It’s not so bad. You finally appear from the back, and the gallery host introduces you as the artist. Everyone claps. 

As you make your rounds, you start to notice small stickers on the plaques, signifying the sale of a piece, and it warms you, happiness spreading from fingers to toes, fills you with pride.

People stop to talk to you, shake your hand, ask you about certain pieces. You find answering their questions is not as painful as you imagined, and their compliments make you feel lighter. You circle the room, finally coming to a stop in front of the biggest piece in the entire gallery. 

At first glance, you think it’s hard to discern what’s really going on, but the longer you stare at it, the more the puzzle comes together. Or at least, you think so. You’ve been staring at it for four years. 

It’s an expressionist piece, as all your paintings are, but this one is a touch abstract, stroked together in a way that seems almost unintentional. 

It’s a painting of conflicting colors, some dark and moody, others bright. A push, and a pull.  Three bodies lay on a bed, diaphragms torn open and bleeding. They're all reaching into each other's chests, blood coating their arms, curled up so tightly together it’s hard to discern where one ends and the other begins in some strokes. 

There’s no emotion scrawled into their features, nothing to interpret. You did it intentionally, hoping to direct the focus to the piece as a whole. That’s the only way it works. The only way it makes sense. 

“I like this one. It's intriguing. Feels sad, almost.” Someone says behind you, and you turn to see a tall man staring at it with a thoughtful gaze. Studying. “Will you tell me about it?” 

Emotion clogs your throat. Your fingers trace over the plaque bearing its name. 

Darling.

“It’s a love story.” 

The bar stool is one of the spinning ones. 

You keep turning around in it, in circles, laughing as Lea rolls her eyes. “Babe, you’re going to fall.” You tsk. 

“You’re literally no fun.” 

“We’re here celebrating you. I don’t want to be doing that in a hospital when you break a bone falling off that stool.” She tips her head towards the bartender. “Can we get another round please?” 

“Sure thing.” You like this place. It’s got great natural light in the day, big, tall windows and sage green walls, gold accents littered throughout. It feels homey, and sweet. 

“I think that went really well. How do you feel about it?” 

How do you feel. 

“I think so too. Once I got over the nerves I… I thought it was good.” 

“You sold a lot of paintings.” 

“I know.” You laugh. That’s the surprise of the night, if you’re being honest. The number of pieces you sold, to other galleries, to a museum. 

A wild dream turned reality. 

“You’re going to be a big-time fancy painter now, watch.” 

“I’m sure that’s either a long way off, or not going to happen. Either way, I’m really happy. I’m really proud of myself.” The two of you sip your new drinks, and you twist again on the stool. 

“Someone tried to buy Darling.” Lea says gently, eyes soft. 

“I know.” 

“You’re sure you didn’t want to sell it?” You shake your head. It might be your best, biggest piece, but it will never know a home other than yours. You started painting it four years ago, the first night you left her behind, and she’ll never belong to anyone, except you. She’s safe with you, protected by you, loved by you, like she always should have been. 

Like she was, so reverently, by them. 

You didn’t even want to display it tonight, if you’re being honest.  But Lea convinced you, and you found it in yourself to be brave. 

She lets you sit in your silence for a while, which you appreciate. She’s a true friend, one that doesn’t pressure you to do things or say things for the sake of them. 

Usually.

“Well,” she clinks her glass against yours with a mischievous smile and then says much too loudly, loud enough faces and bodies turn towards yours in the bar, “here’s to my favorite painter and her first gallery showing.” Some people clap. Some people cheer. You glare at her. “What? Opposed to free drinks?” You spin on the stool again, smiling, and then catch a flash of someone walking towards a door, muscled shoulders- 

And a mohawk. 

Your heart trips over itself. 

“I’ll be right back.” You tell Lea, who gives you a confused look, but you’re already moving through the room, unsteady on your heels. 

You burst through the door into the cool air, autumn nipping at your exposed skin, and look up and down the street. Your pulse ricochets in your ears. 

They’re a block away. The night is dark, and the streetlights are yellow, but you’d know them anywhere. 

“Hey!” You yell. “Wait!” They turn, and you teeter towards them as fast as you can manage, startling to a stop a few feet before them. 

Your heart hammers inside your chest. Standing here, staring at them, taking them in, soaking in it. They look good. Happy. Healthy. Johnny’s skin is glowing, Simon somehow seems bulkier than he did four years ago, but the weight suits him. 

“Hi.” You breathe. 

“Hi.” Johnny’s eyes sparkle, Simon’s lips turning up in a barely-there smile. 

Words fail you. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to say. Hundreds of thousands of things try to get free, but none of them make it, though your mouth opens. Nothing comes out. 

“We saw yer name on the sign outside the gallery down the street earlier. Congratulations.” 

“Thank you. It was… really neat.” Lame.

“It’s a big accomplishment. You must be very proud.” Johnny’s gaze never leave yours, and you nod. 

“I am.” The three of you stand there, staring at one another. 

“Well, we should get going.” Simon breaks first. 

“Right. Of course. Uh, it was… it was good to see you.” 

“Ye too.” You let them get half a block away, not even. 

You know what you want to say. Delayed, held on your tongue too long in a wash of uncertainty, but it arises clear as day.  

“Wait!” They turn, you take a deep breath. “Would you… would you maybe want to have dinner, or something, sometime? Catch up?” 

“We’d love to.” It feels different now, but the good pieces, albeit changed, shifted, are still there. 

“Great, it’s a… plan. To have dinner. Or something.” Johnny smiles, and Simon nods. 

“It’s a plan. You’ll text us?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“See ye soon, then.” 

“Okay. See you soon.” 

[hannieehaee]

Can you do sumn with vernon with a pretty girl like drop dead pretty she’s really shy, quiet and introverted like you can do wtv

content: crush!vernon, kinda simp!vernon, mutual crush, talking stage turned into official relationship, afab reader, fluff, confession, etc.

wc: 1166

a/n: i hope u enjoy what i came up with c:

masterlist

vernon just couldn't help himself whenever you were around, you were simply too pretty a sight for him to behold; always making him fumble and act an idiot.

vernon wasnt really one to put too much weight on appearance, always considering what's on the inside to be far more important, but you had just drawn him in. you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and vernon knew were fully unaware of your beauty, which only added even more to your charm.

your shy demeanor and cute blush any time he stumbled over his words made the embarrassment worth it. he would make a joke of himself in front of the entire nation if it meant seeing your shy smile and the way you'd attempt to cover your mouth as you giggled at him.

the two of you weren't dating, per say, but vernon liked to think you were on your way there. with his inability to function around you and your introverted demeanor combined, it was a bit difficult for either of you to ask the other out, but vernon was very much enjoying the 'will they, wont they' the two of you had going on.

he knew you liked him, which was something he prided himself on greatly, always showing off to the members (and consequently turning into putty the moment you walked in).

"yeah, when are you gonna ask her out, nonnie?", had asked seungkwan one day during practice.

the members had been taking breaks on and off throughout the day, with that day being pretty much free aside from dance practice. during one of the breaks, you had come up, as vernon had decided to invite you over to impress you so that you could lend him some company during his work day. the members had taken this opportunity to berate him about your current relationship status.

"oh, you're not dating? huh. mind if i-",

"don't finish that sentence," vernon interrupted mingyu before he could even picture a reality in which you even so much as looked mingyu's way.

"fesity. you really like her, huh? she is super pretty," joined in jeonghan, instigating further conversation.

"yeah ... how'd you get her attention?", now was chan's turn. it was like they were taking turns to drive him as insane as possible while he waited for your arrival.

"can you guys shut up? i'm going to ask her out. she's just a little shy, i wanna show her that i really like her before making things official," he rebutted.

"well, you should hurry up. pretty girls like that are never single for too long; shy or not," added seungcheol.

before vernon could respond by telling him the intricacies of your exclusive relationship friendship, you suddenly walked in, calling vernon's name from the entrance and consequently scrunching up your nose in embarrassment at having accidentally invoked every member's attention upon entering.

vernon couldn't help but coo at you from where he was standing, adoring how shy you could be sometimes. you were entirely unaware of the fact that a few of his members had just been inquiring if they had a chance with you just before your arrival.

despite having been around the members a few times (with your friendship with vernon being quite obviously just a phase of denial on both of your parts), you were still a bit shy around them. you knew that they knew you liked vernon, and you knew that they knew vernon liked you. it was all a childish game of chicken as the two of you waited for the other to make things official.

even through what you believed to be an awkward moment, one look at vernon's soft smile and you pushed that awkwardness aside and walked towards him, offering him a hug before being stolen away by a few of the other members for a greeting hug of their own. vernon simply grumbled beside you, knowing they were all friendly with you, but still wanting you all to himself.

when you finished, he childishly grabbed onto your hand, now holding it in his as a sign of possessiveness (a behavior vernon had never expressed up until meeting you). the two of you inadvertently blushed and looked away from each other, making seungkwan jokingly gag while you weren't looking.

"okay, get him out of here. you two disgust me," seungkwan practically pushed the two of you towards the exit, "don't chicken out this time! ask her out, you coward!", he finished before slamming the door on the two of you, throwing a panicked vernon a satisfied smile.

your eyes had widened as you looked back at vernon, a surprised smile making its way to your face, "'ask me out'?", you asked him.

"oh, uh, yeah ... about that-"

"mhm?"

he cleared his throat and finally made eye contact with you, realizing you were instigating him just to tease him. this eased the nerves he felt at you now knowing that he liked you (which was something he kind of already assumed you knew), though it did not prevent the endless string of words that left his mouth moments later.

"hey! don't make fun of me. i really like you, okay? of course i'm nervous. i've been nervous, which is why i've chickened out of asking you out every single time", his eyes trailed off you due to his nerves, "and you're- you're just so fucking pretty, every time you look at me i lose my train of thought. i have no idea how im even saying this to you right now. or why i cant seem to shut up, fuck. okay, fuck. what i meant to say is: will you please go out with me? officially? as, you know ... boyfriend and girlfriend?", he finished, finally looking at you again, though now with wide eyes and almost breathless.

you matched his appearance with your own breathlessness and shocked expression, but this did not last long, as you seemed to give yourself a short pep talk in your head before nodding to yourself and pulling him towards you, stealing a kiss from him.

he froze completely for a few moments before finally taking action and giving in, kissing you in a way sweeter way than his brain was begging him to (he did not want to scare you away by kissing you in the way he really wanted to).

once more, the two of you were too shy to make eye contact at first, simply blushing and holding onto each other in the most timid way possible.

vernon broke the silence first, "im really hoping that's a yes ..?"

you giggled back, "yes, vernon. i'd love that."

with a boyish fist bump thrown towards the sky, vernon let out a quiet 'fuck yeah!' before holding onto your hand and walking you out of the building, finally leading you to your first outing as an official couple, already planning your first date in his head.

[ma1dita]

love like a blister

the five stages of loving losing luke

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.7k 

summary: (post-tlt) set directly after lovers, or partners in crime; The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they're still alive. Loving him and losing him are one and the same; the aftermath of his betrayal. this work references a lot of previous works in the series! (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah… yall been asking for this so buckle up. luke is not present in this one, moreso you/trouble dealing with the after. i let annabeth breakdown a bit since ep 8 was amazing but felt choppy to me. this is not the end of the trouble!verse i promise!!

(posted 2/12/24, betaed by mootie lari @mrsaluado)

—

DENIAL - bursting under pressure

we grew up together, what do you mean you grew into a person i can’t love?

Annabeth and Percy find you standing at the edge of the forest clearing—staring at the space where you let the love of your life vanish into thin air. 

You let him leave. 

It’s almost harrowing when the three of you make eye contact, not a single weapon in your possession, only your dying lantern and heart bleeding with the confirmation of Luke’s betrayal. 

Knees shaking as Annabeth stalks over and her sword still raised with tears in her eyes, she’s no longer Luke’s little sister but a formidable warrior set on protecting camp—on protecting Percy.

And you failed in doing either of those things you promised yourself at the beginning of this summer because you ignored the signs of Luke’s behavior— until this very moment. There’s a pressure in your head that dampens your senses, overtaking the control you have over your being as you deny any knowledge of what happened tonight. 

Because in truth, you put the pieces together at the same time they did, just a little too late. She looks at you now with the fury she wasn’t able to project on the real traitor.

“You knew,” she grits her teeth, on the defensive as Percy scrambles up from the ground.

“Annie, I…”

Percy stares at you in horror, a few steps back with Riptide in his injured grasp, and suddenly he understands what it means to see you break. They both feel it instantly as your lantern goes out. Heavy despair drapes over all of you as the madness rips its way through your body, almost breaking through your skin as it emanates through the air. The two children had never felt anything like it before, swords shaking in their hands as they’re filled with the sensation until it bubbles over and they can’t do anything but watch you, their usually poised head counselor lose your grip on reality.

But this can’t be real. 

Out of all of the plans you both made, it was never deemed a possibility that Luke wouldn’t be there with you. Now you stand in the darkness of the forest, hands raised in surrender to a crime you didn’t commit.

There’s so much pressure and it hurts holding it all in, hurts so badly—everywhere until you scream.

“DAD!”

You stare at their small faces surrounding you in anguish, both of them talking but not a single word registers in your mind as you keep shaking your head and screaming for your father for the first time in your life. Before the words the words can form between your lips again Dionysus is there, not as an immortal god but carrying the wrath of a protective father, and there are no forces that can fight against that.

It all moves fast from there, black spots blurring your vision brought by the sheer strength of your tears. Though you don’t feel strong right now, instead there’s nothing that can describe the feeling but hurt as you’re frozen in pain.

The kids watch Mr. D check you for any injuries, but what they’ll never understand is that the wounds Luke left behind are on the inside, and you are bleeding. He shushes you, but the words fight their way out of your mouth, almost in disbelief. “Did I do that to him?”

Your father scoops you into his arms, godly strength and fatherly concern surfacing as he cradles you like a little girl like he should have all those years ago.

The haze clears as Mr. D quells the misery that reverberates through the air and it’s quiet again as your eyes fall shut. For a moment, Percy can’t help but wonder if this is another performance of yours, another way to throw him off of the traitor’s scent. But as your hand falls out from under Mr. D’s arm, he grabs onto it anyway. The son of Poseidon remembers how you and Luke always looked at each other like you were equals, and realizes that for once, the actress was outplayed at her own game.

ANGER - words leaking like an abscess

i never knew loving someone so much would be a crime

There isn’t a protocol set in place for when one of your cabin counselors and all-star campers defects with plans to wage war on the gods. There is even less of a precedent set in place for when the head counselor and daughter of the camp director is left to pick up the pieces, hands dirtied by the evidence he left behind. Perhaps your job description was never truly clear anyway.

All you know now is that you’ve been sitting in a rickety wooden chair in your dad’s office for hours now, tied up—for formalities. 

This must be your punishment from the gods for every way you were different. Maybe if you were braver, maybe if you didn’t force yourself to only see the good in him, maybe then maybe, he could’ve been saved too. Surely undoing all of that would be considerably less painful than being questioned by everyone you love about the one you love. 

For once you didn’t have any good answers.

“Like I said to Chiron. I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know what? Use your big girl words. Just do the right thing, like you always say!” Clarisse barks in your face. The centaur tuts at the daughter of Ares, making her step back and cross her arms. The boys are more silent but still suspicious, and Lee asks if you really thought Clarisse was the traitor.

“I didn’t. I was the last one to know,” you grit, looking at Percy who surveys you with hesitant eyes, “I just thought Luke was leaving. I didn’t know why.”

“How do we know you’re not working for Kronos too?” 

One of them says it, you’re losing track as to who when you blink hard and long, but the words spill out of you like a festering wound— fast, acidic, and painful.

“Do you REALLY think I could turn my back on my home? My friends? Is that how you all think of me? After everything!”

“You’d do anything for that boy and we all know it,” Silena says with a scowl very unlike her, though you suppose everyone’s out of sorts from exhaustion.

“Not that. That’s where him and I are different. I would never be able to do that.”

You think you hear Silena bite back a sob as she turns away from you, not meeting your eyes.

Mr. D was unable to judge you since you were his only daughter. He’s been gone most of the night and you feel so alone even if the room is filled with familiar faces that don’t even want you here. Charles, Percy, Lee, Clarisse, Silena, Katie stand still as they judge you— Annabeth didn’t even come to the Big House, her mind probably already made up. 

Chiron says there will be a vote, the procedural way—like how you taught the cabin counselors how to handle disagreements, though they were never expecting to vote on your dismissal from camp. Tensions are high, some rightfully angry at the war looming over your heads, others looking at you with pity from the other corner of the room. All of them, your friends, still, you hope.

6 votes, since you and Luke didn’t count, and Annabeth’s abstention. They did it outside, away from your view and you sit in the silence of the office, angry at what’s become of you. Tainted and tarnished, you don’t bother to find out who voted what, knowing things won’t be the same after this. 

Your dad comes back a little before dawn, having asked a favor from Apollo to determine your innocence–to prove that you’re telling the truth. But by then, Charles and Lee are already untying you from your chair and you’re being let go. You wonder what changed once they were able to speak without being in your presence. Remaining seated and staring at all of them with your jaw set in stone-cold wrath, Percy thinks for a moment that you look like Luke.

The first rays of light shine through the window upon your sullen frame— a confirmation from the sun god that your heart was always pure. It still feels like a loss. There’s no medal or award for getting left behind, and winning has always been more of Luke’s thing.

You resign from the position of head counselor by the time sunlight spreads across the campgrounds.

BARGAINING - to make yourself new from the inside out

isn’t home the first place you learn to run from?

You catch Percy at the doorstep of cabin 3 before he leaves and your dad is yelling at all the campers.

“Okay! For those of you who are not staying for the full term… get out! You get out. Pack your bags. You’re going home!” Mr. D screams with a twinkle in his eye as he winks at you, patting you on the head before walking away to drive kids out.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” Percy mumbles, adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You’d been locked up in your room since the interrogation with almost no signs of life. He was worried about you—all of them were. They just didn’t know how to say it, after everything.

You stood in front of him in sweatpants and a shirt he’s sure he’s seen Luke wear to sleep before, exhaustion prominent on your face; usually you’re better at hiding it, but there’s no need for false pretenses anymore.

“Last day of camp. Had to end it on a good note,” you say softly, biting your lip, “I heard about what you did, Perce. You didn’t have to. I was going to quit anyway.”

Sometime in the past few days, Chiron came to your cabin to tell you they didn’t vote at all, which was a surprise to you. Percy convinced them not to, reminding them of your efforts as head counselor, and as a friend—the decision was settled quickly after that.

“I knew you didn’t betray us. I was just scared.”

You watch him shift his weight, not losing eye contact as he produces a half-smile. He seems older now after his quest, as many demigods do–though it’s only been a few weeks, he looks like he’s grown more sure of himself.

“That’s okay. I was too.” 

The silence between you is comfortable as both of you listen to the birds in the trees, the distant voices of chattering children, and your heart hurts at the idea of leaving this, even temporarily. As your eyes flicker back to Percy’s, you realize he feels the same way. 

“I hope your mom’s okay, especially after all of this. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

His sandy eyebrows furrow and it’s funny how Percy always looks a little confused.

“You’re leaving camp? I thought…”

“Well I’m not joining Kronos, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you laugh dryly, “It’s getting boring here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think. See you.” you nod, waving a hand as you turn to walk away.

“Wait!” 

Percy calls your name, skipping down the steps of his cabin and meeting you halfway down the forest path. He’s digging through his jacket pocket, and pulls out two black clay beads with blue tridents etched on the surface as your body grows cold.

“I don’t know what to do with—” “We…the other counselors, this is what we ended up voting on. And I thought you should get an extra, just in case,” Percy mumbles, his voice edged with hope and your face contorts into something like regret. You can’t cry again, even if you wanted to. 

“I wouldn’t pray for something like that,” you whisper shakily.

“I thought you didn’t really pray at all.” 

The kid smiles at you and it makes you wonder what souls like him and Luke must’ve done in their previous lives to deserve fates like this—to fight wars that aren’t their own. To be doomed by the narrative is a treacherous thing, and it is so utterly unfair. 

“Yeah. That was more his style,” you sniff, taking the beads out of his hand, “but I still find myself with a lot of hope.” 

Hope, in a sense, is prayer too. Wishing that things will be better, manifesting and believing that it doesn’t have to end this way. You don’t think Luke will ever come home to you, not really, not all of him, but it’s nice to have something to hang onto. At his core, he was raised to be a soldier, and soldiers don’t always come home.

You decide to drive Percy down the opposite shore to Montauk. It’s a short ride, and he spends the time looking out the window to the sea, thinking of his father— when the car pulls up to the driveway of the beach house, you step out and give him a hug. Soon, he’ll be taller than you.

“Take care of yourself, okay? Need anything and I’m a call away,” you smile, but he sees that it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you. For being a real friend, even if it hurts you.”

You grab his shoulder to make him look at you, and the distant sound of crashing waves dampens the thoughts running through your head.

“Listen to me. None of this is your fault. I couldn’t save him. Luke’s my biggest failure.”

Your voice wavers and you swallow hard, pushing the tears back down your throat.

“You know, I knew you didn’t know anything about his betrayal because when we were in the forest, I’d never seen you like that before. I couldn’t figure out the feeling, and–”

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Perce. I couldn’t hold it in anymore,” you interrupt, but he shakes his head and continues.

“I thought you were sad. It felt like sadness at first, but then I realized it was hatred. And I knew even then that I could never hate you. So I realized that’s how you felt about yourself. I hope someday you don’t feel that way anymore.”

If a few tears slip down your cheeks, Percy doesn’t pay it any mind. He waves at you when he gets to the door.

DEPRESSION - healing takes thick skin

i knew to love would be to lose my mind

After the summer term ended, you spent most of it in bed, hiding away from the world. You wished to be more spontaneous, to up and leave the safe boundaries of the camp you call home, but you’re not quite there yet.

The one good thing about this is your father. Dionysus was at your bedside every morning and night between the work him and Chiron had to do to keep camp running in your absence. His powerful fingers made themselves comfortable stroking your hair as you always find yourself staring at nothing. Your father cured you of what he thought was madness over your life being turned upside down by someone you love, but after the fog cleared, you were left feeling nothing. Numb to the touch, hardened by your hurt like a growing callous.

Impenetrable.

He thinks it’s bittersweet, getting to know you better as you chat late into the night when you can’t sleep, but it breaks his own heart to have the power of Olympus on his side and still not be able to fix you. He knows now what you must have been feeling these past few months, to some extent.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m dead already,” you mutter as your eyes stare blankly at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. Your dad is sitting at your desk as he signs paperwork, and his eyes flicker to a pinned photo on you wall of you kissing Luke’s cheek in a photobooth. One of the pins is missing a memory, torn and stolen away. 

“Unfortunately, you’re not that lucky. I carried you out of that forest, I’d know,” he mutters, sipping on his Diet Coke. 

“Will it always hurt like this? Losing someone you…” Love.

You can barely even bring yourself to say it, so he sighs and nudges you to move over on the bed, his Hawaiian shirt an eyesore against your bedspread. It makes your lips quirk up to see the god try to fit himself into a full-size as he adjusts to get comfortable.

“Yes. Because if it hurts, it means that it mattered. There is no such thing as love lost if you gave it willingly. You know, your mother and I were never together, but I loved her too.” 

He tucks the duvet under your chin like he’s worried you’ll catch a chill. Your form is still unmoving under the covers as he continues.

“Love is a powerful catalyst. The actions humans do after are a product of that; it brings out the best or the worst in people, especially if you think it’s the only way. You love because you want more time with them. You love someone to life, not to death.”

“Silena said something at the Big House. She said that everyone knew I would do anything for him. Where does that leave me? What do I do now?”

Your eyes shut as you feel your dad grab your hand and he chuckles lowly. He knows a thing or two of doing anything for love. He’s gone to the underworld and back—twice, for his mother Semele and his true love, Ariadne. And he’d do it again for you, if he ever had to. “You’re not broken, kid. You’re in love. It’s the purest emotion the gods have bestowed onto humans, and it is a gift, even if it doesn’t work out. Love is insanity.  I think you and I know it best.”

“I guess I’m a lot more like you than I like to admit,” you scoff, leaning against his arm. 

“Don’t sound so excited, daughter of mine,” he says playfully, and he seems so human now as he laughs. The two of you have a gift of fixing people, but perhaps you were both blind to who needed it the most until this very moment. Sitting there in the quiet a little longer, it doesn’t feel so bad to be the favorite daughter of Dionysus. Maybe when you’re ready to get out of these walls, you’ll be able to say it with pride.

ACCEPTANCE - to be soft again takes strength

in another life, we would’ve mattered more than choosing sides

“He always hated it when you smoked, you know.”

You cough through a puff, boots slightly slipping in the sleet of the gravel driveway as you turn to face Annabeth. Besides the fact that her father’s house is grander than anything you could ever imagine yourself living in, there’s a large distance between the two of you as she stands on the steps, the box you left on the doorstep slowly being dotted with falling snow. You left the car running, thinking she wouldn’t want to see you after everything that’s happened.

“Well he probably hates a lot of things about me now,” you say grimly. 

It’s been a growing habit to want to feel something, the rush of nicotine through your bloodstream—even if it’s bound to rip years off your life. It doesn’t really matter as much anymore.

I hate a lot of things about me too, you think, remembering a white house on a hill even if it was a distant dream— these thoughts all go up in smoke as you watch her sit down on the stoop waiting for you to come sit down with her.

Your hands fidget as you find a place next to her, putting out the cigarette on the red brick as the ash falls onto your chipped nail polish. It burns, but Annabeth watches you, the both of you stone-faced.

“What made you drive all the way out here?”

She opens the box and tries to hide a shaky breath at it’s contents but the vapor in the air betrays her. You can still tell a thing or two about people acting, but you’re never too sure anymore.

“I got a few days off from class. Dad Iris messaged me, told me there were new kids in 11 who needed bunks, so… he thought it was time. It was sitting in my room when I got there.” She notices you call Mr. D your dad now, but doesn’t say much of it. She’s also getting used to calling her father that after all these years.

You pull out the quilt you gave Luke the night before you got claimed, a faded pink and purple pattern worn from the years of use and wrap it around her shoulders. It still smells like him, citrus and musk and something darker that hangs over your heads and she sniffles.

“So you’re a college girl now, huh? Never thought you’d do it,” Annabeth mumbles, still not looking at you as her eyes scan through what was hidden underneath the fabric. Luke never had much he held close to his heart, and it’s funny to think his two prized possessions were staring down into a box trying to find the meaning of it all.

“Yeah, me neither,” you sigh. It should’ve been an insult, but you know what she means.

Not without him. 

There’s a lot that you promised each other, but you find yourself doing it all alone–because you have to. The world does not wait for for anyone, even if you beg for it to.

“It’s not a big deal, I’m still on the Island, just…not at home. Just trying to keep myself busy.”

Her hand picks up a polaroid of the two of them—he’s smiling as she peers over his shoulder.

“I think it’s great. You’re too hard on yourself sometimes.”

Other memories are scattered in the box including a leather bracelet, a compass, unsent letters to his mom, and photos of happier days back when all of your hearts were softer. There’s not much to split between the two of you.

A black clay bead rolls to the inner corner, indicative of this year’s events and painted with turquoise like the eyes of a certain son of Poseidon that now crosses the both of your minds.

“Percy gave it to me before he left for the city, for him. In case.”

You swallow loudly, and you watch her braid it onto the leather cord and tie it around your wrist. Her fingertips are cold as she nods, “In case.”

“You’ve been looking for him, haven’t you?” The movement your head makes is almost imperceptible—not a nod nor a shake, but the daughter of Athena knows you too well by now. She knows you because Luke did too, once upon a time.

“Think I’m trying to find myself now. If he’s still a part of that I don’t know what that says about me.”

The two of you sit there on the stoop of the Chase mansion catching up on the past 7 months even if the both of you can still feel the wall of his memory between you. She doesn’t invite you in to meet her family despite the weather—hesitant to let her mother’s side of life bleed into the new normal she’s created for herself, and you can’t blame her one bit. The both of you have been at war with each other and with yourselves since the end of the summer, when in reality you both know what it’s like to protect the little you have to hang onto and what it feels like to be left behind. Survival mode, until the end.

“Why do you think he did it? I mean, I know why, but…”

Why weren’t we enough?

Annabeth’s mind has always been so brilliant, but sitting in the dim porchlight, you understand now that she’s growing up so quickly. Gone are her baby-soft cheeks, with her cheekbones more prominent as they frame her wise eyes. She’s a teenager now. But Annabeth looks at you like she did long ago, the only person besides Luke who would patiently answer all of her questions. Even if the answers weren’t always what she wanted, you had a way of telling her what she needed to hear.

“I think I’ll be asking the gods why for the rest of my life. And even if they ignore me like they did him, or give me an answer that’s worth the balance of the world, I’ll still never be able to understand it.”

The snow is falling harder now, but neither of you seem to notice. It’s stuck in your hair, dusting your eyelashes as you sit and stare out at the front lawn. She tells you about school, her family, Percy and Grover, and the things you’ve missed about her so deeply—and for a moment you feel like you can be her older sister again, someone who can keep her secrets. Partially, you left home because everyone either doubted you or thought you as fragile. Annabeth always tells you what she’s truly thinking— it’s a breathe of fresh air to let yourself just be.

“I’ve never not had the last word when it comes to him, y’know? I guess I have nothing more to say though.”

You both huddle together for warmth under the quilt, sharing secrets and memories of him, things others wouldn’t understand.

“You know that’s not true,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes, and her smile is as bright as the snowflakes in her ebony tresses.

“What I do know is that you know too damn much,” and you both start giggling softly, teary eyed and feeling what you’ve been keeping in for months now, from each other and the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters suddenly, and your name falling from Annabeth’s mouth sounds almost as unfamiliar as her apologizing. It shouldn’t have to have been like this. You’re not going to lose the only person who remembers him like you do, who hurts like you. 

“Me too.”

She leans her head on your shoulder like how she would when you used to sing her to sleep, and deep down Annabeth knows that she won’t let the only good part of her brother go either. What tore the two of you apart brings you back together, because if you don’t have him you still have each other.

The door to the estate opens up slowly, it’s well-oiled hinges silent like the two sad girls’ whispers. Dr. Chase steps out to see you two illuminated by the light of his home, hand in hand over a box of memories and wrapped in a pink and purple quilt that Annabeth will hold close to her like she does her mother’s hat. 

“You two ladies causing trouble?” he smiles, his eyes wild with a thirst to know more and it’s a look you’ve seen his daughter give you one too many times.

You can’t help but chuckle at the irony and though he means well, the all-consuming feeling that comes with the name, Luke’s name for you– ignites in your heart once more. No one will ever call you trouble again, not in the way he did. It burns like alcohol running through your veins almost unendurable and you want to will it away, but Annie’s patting your arm as she tries to stifle the flames with her cold fingers.

“Her?” she says knocking her shoulder against yours, “ Always.” 

Annabeth laughs, and that too, reminds you of him but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, your body still warm in the winter Virginia air. You feel your chest shake and suddenly you’re laughing and it’s crazy and loud and maniacal and so you that you can barely see Annabeth through the tears rolling down your cheeks. It cuts around the dead skin that’s encapsulated your being these past few months, revealing something brand new—much softer, even if it’s still tender to the touch.

It’s still you, still hurting, but choosing to live despite it.

Because you have to.

—

“Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. Being loved by you is the hardest.“

- Ari B. Cofer

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[alygator77]

✩ echoes of time, a love unspoken ✩

✩ pairing. satoru gojo x fem! reader

✩ summary. overwhelmed with grief and regret, you are desperate to reconnect with your closest friend and secret love, satoru gojo. when you discover an ancient relic that allows you to travel back in time, you are given the opportunity to finally share your true feelings

✩ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, spoilers for manga chapters 222 - 236, angst with comfort, friends to lovers, mostly smut (if you squint you can maybe find a hint of plot lol), dry humping, oral (f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex

✩ words: 4k

✩ a/n. writing short stuff like this makes me feel weird lol...but eh, felt like giving it a shot. i blame my whoremones. also if you know the artist let me know 🫶🏻 i found this pic on pinterest

"Satoru is dead," Shoko says, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words any louder would shatter the fragile reality you were clinging to.

“W-What?”

You blink at her, your mind struggling to process the information. Did you mishear?

The usually unflappable Shoko is visibly shaken, eyes red-rimmed and filled with sorrow.

"It was Sukuna," she continues, voice cracking. "The battle... it was too much, even for him."

Your heart felt like it had been ripped from your chest. Satoru Gojo, your closest friend and the man you had secretly loved for years, was gone. Memories of him flash before your eyes—his brilliant smile, his teasing remarks, the way he always seemed to be there when you needed him.

"No," you whisper, shaking your head in denial. "No, that can't be true."

Shoko reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," she murmurs, her own voice breaking. "I know how much he meant to you."

Her words break the dam inside you, and you feel the tears begin to stream down your cheeks.

Your knees buckle as you slump against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the burning pain inside you. Your grief wraps around you like a vice, squeezing the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping.

“He was... he was everything," your voice trembles. "I never told him, Shoko. I never told him how I felt."

Shoko's hand squeezes yours, offering what little comfort she can.

"He knew, y/n. Satoru always knew. He was just waiting for you to be ready."

The thought brings a fresh wave of tears, carving a river of sorrow down your face.

How could he have known?

For years, you had hidden your feelings—you had been so careful, so afraid of ruining the friendship that meant the world to you.

The pain of your regret is a sharp, gnawing ache in your chest.

How many times had you almost told him? How many moments had you let slip by, too afraid of what his reaction might be?

And now, it was too late.

He was gone, and you were left with a heart full of unspoken words and unfulfilled dreams.

Days pass in a fog. You go through the motions, but the world has lost its meaning, its color, its light. Without Satoru, everything feels hollow.

Every corner of the school is a memory of him—a reminder of what you’ve lost you. The training grounds where you would spar with him, the library where you shared quiet moments of study, even the halls where his laughter once rang out, bright and infectious. Pieces of him are everywhere, each one a dagger to your heart.

The weight of your sorrow presses down on you, and you seek solace in the school's ancient library—hoping to find a distraction, something to numb the pain.

Drowning in grief, your eyes fall upon a dusty, leather-bound book on a nearby shelf. The title catches your eye: "Chronomancy: The Art of Time Travel."

What if you could go back?

What if you could see Satoru one last time—tell him what you've always been too afraid to say?

Or perhaps, change the future?

The thought is intoxicating, a flicker of hope in your darkness.

Desperation fuels you as you delve into the book, your hands trembling as you turn the pages. The instructions are complex, but your mind is sharp, honed by years of sorcery and study. The book speaks of an ancient relic, used in tandem with cursed energy.

You vaguely remember the old stories, the legends of such a relic hidden deep within the archives of Jujutsu High, said to be from a bygone era, a powerful artifact capable of altering the very fabric of time.

You know it's risky, dangerous even—time travel was absolutely forbidden, but the pain of your unspoken love and your need to see Satoru drives you forward.

With renewed determination, you make your way to the restricted archives, a labyrinth of ancient texts and forgotten artifacts deep within the bowels of Jujutsu High. The air grows cooler and musty as you descend, the weight of history pressing down on you.

Searching through the dimly lit corridors, your hands brush over countless relics and tomes, each one whispering secrets of a long-forgotten past. Finally, you find it—the relic described in the book. It’s a small, ornate device, deceptively simple in appearance but thrumming with a powerful, ancient energy.

Carefully, you take the relic and make your way back to your room. The instructions in the book replay in your mind as you prepare the ritual. Every detail has to be perfect—there’s no room for error.

As you channel your cursed energy into the device, chanting the incantation, the air around you starts to hum and vibrate. The relic glows brighter and brighter, the light almost blinding until suddenly, the world around you dissolves into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations—you feel yourself being pulled through time.

When the light fades and the world comes back into focus, you find yourself standing in your bedroom yet again.

Did it work?

Without a thought, you instantly run, sprinting to Satoru’s home. The familiar path is a blur as you push your body to its limits, your heart pounding with a mixture of hope and desperation. You reach his door, breathless and trembling, and knock frantically.

The door swings open, and there he is, eyes lighten up with surprise and a hint of confusion as he sees you.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?"

Seeing him, standing there alive and well, almost undoes you. Your legs feel weak, and your eyes well up with tears of relief. Without any thought, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him towards you, crashing your lips against his with a desperate fervor.

His eyes widen in shock for a moment, but then he starts to melt into the kiss, returning your passion with his own. A soft moan escapes as his arms instinctively wrap around your waist, pulling you closer while his lips move hungrily against yours.

He guides you backwards into his house, closing the door behind you as he leans you against it, returning the kiss like a man starved of touch, of you, for years. His fingers grip the fabric of your clothes, pulling you closer.

You feel his heartbeat against your chest, a steady rhythm that grounds you in the reality of his presence. Every touch, every movement, is a reassurance that he's here, alive, and with you.

"I… missed you… so much," you mutter between breaths, a fragile confession between each fervent kiss.

Satoru’s grip tightens, his hands move to cradle your face, a touch gentle yet urgent. He lets out a soft hum and reluctantly pulls away from your lips, quirking a brow with a crooked grin.

"That was unexpected. Missed me? Y/n, we saw each other earlier today."

You shake your head, tears flowing freely now.

"No, you don't understand. I missed you... so much."

His grin fades as he notices the depth of your sorrow—concern etched in his features as his gaze softens, eyes searching you with confusion and worry. He gently wipes away a tear with his thumb.

"Why are you crying?"

With a shaky breath you struggle to find the words. The weight of everything you know and everything you've felt threatens to overwhelm you. But now, in this moment, you don't want to burden him with the truth.

Not yet.

Shaking your head, you manage to whisper—

"Later... please, just let me savor you right now."

Understanding dawns in his eyes, and he nods slowly, pulling you closer once more. His touch is tender, his embrace warm and reassuring. Leaning in, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then to each of your tear-streaked cheeks, as if trying to kiss away your pain.

"Okay," he murmurs against your skin. "I'm here. Not going anywhere."

Satoru's lips find yours again, and this time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. He pours all his feelings into it—his reassurance, his comfort, his unspoken promises. As you lose yourself in the kiss, your hands move to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pull him even closer, not wanting to let go.

The kiss deepens, a mingling of desperation and relief—his hands slide from your face to your waist, pulling you closer, before traveling down to your legs. With effortless strength, he lifts you off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

For a moment, everything is perfect. The pain, the sorrow, the regret—all of it is swept away in the embrace of the man you love.

Between breaths, you manage to whisper again, "I missed you," each word filled with all the longing and desperation you've held inside.

Satoru responds not with words but with action. His kiss grows more fervent, his grip on you tightening as he presses your hips down on his. Your core is met with the growing pressure of his erection, causing you to mewl into his mouth.

He swallows your sounds as his kiss grows more intense, more needy, his tongue continuing to explore your mouth, tasting, claiming. You roll your hips against him, causing a low groan to rumble from his chest. His hips instinctively buckle from the friction and he presses you further against the door.

Breaking the kiss, his lips slowly make their way down your neck. He murmurs your name against your skin as his hips grind up against yours, sending a shiver through you as his fingers leave a trail of warmth in their wake, exploring every inch of your body.

With a gentle urgency, his hands find the buttons of your shirt, deft fingers undoing them one by one. As the fabric parts under his touch, his lips follow, leaving a trail of heated kisses down your exposed frame, tongue and teeth marking you with gentle nips.

As his lips find the curve of your breast, he gently bites down on it, causing a soft gasp to escape from your mouth.

“Satoru,” his name escapes you breathily as a ripple of pleasure courses through you, pooling straight between your legs.

Satoru's response is a low, guttural sound that vibrates against your skin. His hand comes up to cup your breast, his thumb stroking over your nipple as he continues to grind against you.

"I want you," he murmurs, voice hoarse with an aching need, coming out as both a statement and a request.

You meet his gaze, your breath hitching at the intensity of his desire.

"I'm yours to take," you whisper. "Take me, Satoru. I'm yours."

The words seem to ignite something deep within him—eyes darkening with a mixture of passion and determination. He immediately captures your lips in a fierce, demanding kiss.

With a swift and almost forceful movement, he lifts you from the door, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom, opening it with a nudge of his foot. His body presses against yours and he pins your wrists above your head, lowering you onto the mattress with eager vehemence.

The sensation of being held in place, of being at his mercy, sends a shiver of anticipation through you—feeling the heat between your legs intensify.

His eyes lock onto yours between loose tousles of his snowy hair, a silent question and an unspoken promise in their depths. The outline of his erection is evident through his taut clothing, a physical manifestation of his aching desire that burns for you. The heat of his body sears into you as he settles between your legs.

"I've wanted you for so long," he murmurs, voice low and ragged. "I can't get you out of my head."

He rocks his hips gently against yours as his hands move from your wrists, tracing a path down your arms. He reaches the hem of your shirt and guides it off your shoulders.

His hands then slide beneath your back, lifting you slightly as he unclasps your bra, discarding it to the side. The cool air against your bare skin is quickly replaced by the warmth of his mouth.

You gasp and writhe beneath him as his tongue grazes over your sensitive peak. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you as his hips continue their slow, deliberate rhythm, rolling against your core and creating a delicious friction through the layers of clothing that still separate you.

You arch your back in pleasure, and with a groan, Satoru allows himself to sink deeper into the sensation of your breasts against his mouth. Every lick, every suck has him growing harder, his member straining against his pants.

“Fuck..” he mutters, pulling away from your chest just long enough to tear off his own shirt and discard it carelessly.

He leans down to lavish attention on your other breast, his free hand hooking into the waistband of your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs.

Once you remain only in your underwear, he abandons your breasts momentarily, trailing kisses down your stomach. As he reaches the apex of your thighs, he pauses, looking up at you with a gaze so intense it makes your breath hitch—a raw need that sends a shiver of excitement throughout you.

"Satoru," you moan, your voice a plea and a promise, urging him on. "Please."

He holds your gaze for a moment, searching for any hesitation. Finding none, he moves his hand across the fabric of your panties, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles around your clothed core. The friction is maddening, each touch making your body hum in pleasure.

"Tell me what you want," he whispers, voice a husky murmur.

"I want you," you reply, voice trembling with need. "I need you, Satoru."

His eyes darken further at your words, a low groan escaping his lips as he slides your panties down your legs, discarding them with the rest of your clothes. The sensation of the cool air against your exposed skin is quickly replaced by the heat of his breath as he leans in closer.

He takes a moment to savor the sight before him, your body laid out beneath him like an offering. Then, without warning, his tongue slips between your wet folds, lapping at your juices in long, languid strokes.

Satoru groans in approval of your taste, the sound vibrating against your heated flesh as he delves deeper. His hands part your thighs, holding you open as his tongue explores every crevice and fold, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. The intensity of his ministrations has your hands fisting the sheets, your back arching as you struggle to remain grounded under his relentless assault.

"Oh my god, Satoru..." you gasp, your voice a breathless plea as you arch into him deeper, relishing in every skillful flick of his tongue. Each stroke, each swirl, drives you closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak.

He works with a practiced precision, knowing exactly how to push you to the brink and pull you back, teasing you with the promise of release—alternating between gentle, teasing licks and deep, intense strokes.

Your hands move from the sheets to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you hold him close, your body trembling with force as you chase your release.

Feeling your impending orgasm building, Satoru pulls away from your quivering folds, causing you to groan. He locks eyes with you as he slowly drags his tongue from your swollen clit to your dripping entrance, a grin upon his lips.

He can see your resolve cracking, your composure slipping away as you teeter on the edge of bliss. He relishes watching your face contort with pleasure as you writhe beneath him, desperate to climax.

His movements are deliberate, torturous even, each lick and suck designed to prolong your pleasure. He can taste your arousal, your desperation, and it only fuels his own hunger.

His grip is firm and possessive as he tightens his hold on your thighs, devouring every part of your womanhood. The sound of his groans, the feeling of his tongue against you, it's all too much. The tension within you coils tighter and tighter.

You gasp as he slides two fingers inside you, feeling your walls clench around him as he curls them upwards, seeking that spot that would send you over the edge.

"Satoru, please..." you beg, your voice a desperate whisper. "I can't... I'm so close..."

He suddenly pulls away, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal, causing a whine to escape your lips. The sudden loss of contact leaving you aching.

He looks up at you, a wicked glint in his eyes as his lips curl into a grin.

"Not yet," he murmurs, voice low and seductive. "Want to feel you cum around me."

He moves back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. With a groan of pure need, his hands move with a purpose as he reaches for the button of his pants.

Rising to his knees, his eyes lock with yours as he sheds the last of his clothes, freeing his throbbing cock from the confines. It springs forth, thick and rigid, the tip glistening with precum.

You watch as he gives it a few slow strokes before settling back between your legs, his erection pressing against your core, tip brushing between the folds that are coated in your essence. The teasing sensation sends another wave of desire through you.

Slowly, deliberately, he pushes forward, sheathing himself inch by tantalizing inch inside you. A low growl escapes him as he feels your warmth enveloping him, your walls squeezing him delightfully. You gasp, your back arching, your body welcoming his with a need that borders on desperation.

He pauses once fully immersed, giving you a moment to adjust to his size as he revels in the feeling of your inner muscles clenching his length. Then, with a slow, sensual thrust, he begins to move, withdrawing until just the head remains before plunging back in to the hilt.

“Ah, fuck,” he breathes out, his hips snapping forward with more urgency, his head falling back as he loses himself in the sensation. The sight of him, eyes closed in bliss, his mouth slightly open as he gasps for breath, is almost enough to send you over the edge.

The pace he sets is slow and deliberate at first, each thrust deep and measured, allowing you to feel every inch of him. The friction, the heat, it all combines to create a symphony of pleasure that has you gasping and moaning his name. Your hands move to grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you cling to him, body moving in perfect harmony with his.

"Satoru," you moan, voice trembling with need and desire. "More, please..."

He responds with a growl, his movements becoming more urgent—thrusting harder and faster as his hands move to grip your hips, anchoring you to the bed as he fucks you with a raw, primal energy. The slap of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by your moans and his growls of pleasure.

His name escapes your lips in breathless moans, each sound driving him further, pushing him to give you everything you need.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this, feel so good,” he groans, his voice rough with passion. “So tight, so perfect.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tongue mimicking the rhythm of his thrusts. Your hands move from his shoulders to his back, your nails raking down his flesh as you cling to him.

Your body responds instinctively, your hips lifting to meet his, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. The deeper angle sends jolts of pleasure through you, each thrust hitting just the right spot. The heat between you builds, the pressure mounting with every movement.

"Satoru," you gasp, your voice a mix of pleasure and urgency. "Don't stop... please..."

His response is a deep, guttural moan, his hips snapping forward with renewed intensity. The sensation of him filling you so completely, kissing your cervix with each thrust—the way his body moves against yours, it's all-consuming. The pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak, your body arching into his as you chase your release.

He feels the change in you, the way your body tightens around him, and it drives him to push harder, to give you everything. "Cum for me, princess," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a rough whisper. "I want to feel you cum around me."

His words create a tension within you, coiling tighter and tighter. With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself getting closer and closer, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak.

"Satoru... I... I'm going to..." you moan, your voice trembling with the force of your impending climax.

"That's it," he growls, his hips snapping forward in powerful thrusts. "Be a good girl and let go. Cum for me."

His command is the final push you need. With a cry of his name, you shatter, the pleasure washing over you in profound, overwhelming waves as your inner muscles clench around him, coating him with your essence.

Feeling your climax hit, Satoru's own control snaps like a brittle twig, sending him spiraling into blissful release. With a guttural roar, he spills himself deep inside you, hips jerking violently as his hot seed fills you, painting your insides white. He keeps thrusting, prolonging your orgasm and milking his own, his cock twitching as he empties himself completely dry.

Suddenly drained and spent, Satoru collapses atop you; his chest rising and falling against your own as he buries himself into the crook of your neck. The weight and warmth of his body against yours is comforting, grounding you in the aftermath of your shared passion. Not wanting to dislodge himself just yet, he drapes one arm across your stomach, holding you close, while his other hand gently caresses your cheek, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin.

You look into his eyes, now softened with a deep satisfaction and affection. The intensity of the moment lingers between you, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you've always shared but never fully expressed.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice barely audible but filled with all the emotion you've held inside. The words you've desperately been wanting to say for years now finally roll off your tongue, carrying with them the weight of your unspoken feelings. Each word is a release, a freeing of the heart that has longed for this moment.

Satoru's eyes widen slightly at your confession, and then a tender, loving smile spreads across his face. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to seal the promise of his affection.

"I love you too," he murmurs against your skin, his voice a low, comforting rumble. "I always have." The sincerity in his words resonates through you, filling the spaces that have long been empty with warmth and joy.

He shifts slightly, allowing you to nestle more comfortably against him. The rhythm of his breathing begins to slow, his body relaxing into a state of contented fatigue. You match his breaths, finding a perfect synchronicity that lulls you into a sense of peace.

In this moment, everything is perfect. You are his, and he is yours, and together, you can face whatever comes next.

Maybe, just maybe, this future will be different.

You can only hope.

[changbunnies]

Desire (18+)

♡ Pairing: Wolf Hybrid!Bang Chan x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader x Wolf Hybrid!Changbin

♡ Genre: little red riding hood au, fantasy/supernatural au, hybrid au, allusions to omegaverse dynamics, porn with plot, sequel to scent of you, past dubcon from part 1 is discussed

♡ Word Count: 10.9k (i have got to stop doing this, my god)

♡ Summary: In which the bunny hybrid “little red” has been unable to forget her past encounter with the wolves of the forest, and goes to seek them out for more fun while also being in the throes of her heat. 

♡ Warnings: same as before; uses the little red riding hood fairytale as a base for inspiration, words like "alpha" and other omegaverse terms aren't used but the vibes are There

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): reader is in heat so... yeah, pet names (though mostly as a title- bunny, little red, and sweetheart), more use of the word slut + gendered language, dom/sub dynamics (dom!chan, sub!reader, switch!changbin), scent stuff again lol, lots of kissing, size difference, size kink, outdoor sex :'), manhandling, unprotected piv, dacryphilia, orgasm control + denial, subtle mxm may not actually be all that subtle + more of the rivalry between binchan as well as jealous bin lol, mates / mating, biting, nipple play, overstim, multiple orgasms, choking kinda? reader just gets held by the neck lol, handjob, cum eating, multiple creampies

♡ Notes: this is a sequel to scent of you, which you can read here! so i fully intended to still be on a small break and this was not supposed to be a series but i literally could not stop thinking about what would happen next for them and i had to write it :’) i hope you enjoy <3 

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you stare up at your barren ceiling, sweat dripping from your brow as your limbs grow tired and ache with exertion. How long had it been since the night you got lost deep in the woods, only to be found by Chan and Changbin?

Two wolves who you would still think you imagined were it not for the note they left behind, clear evidence that everything you experienced with them was real. It wasn’t something your psyche conjured while lost and alone in the dark woods, the pleasure wasn’t a vivid dream made in an attempt to cope with the reality that you were lost– everything about them, about that night, was entirely real.

You can still remember how you tucked your note away into a pocket of your dress before you opened the cottage door, your grandmother scrambling up to her feet when she heard you enter, rushing off her bed and out of her room as fast as her weak legs could carry her. You met her halfway, catching her as she stumbled, her arms squeezing you tight as relief washed over her.

You knew she must’ve been beside herself with worry, but actually experiencing it made guilt strike your heart like lightning; and when you opened your mouth to speak, she simply shushed you, requiring no explanation. Your grandmother wasn’t stupid, she knew a predator had caught you– your cape was torn in several places and you positively reeked of wolf, but rather than comment on it, she was simply grateful you were back home in one piece.

There were very few things a rabbit could do to ensure their survival against a wolf, and she was wise enough not to pick at the fresh wound you may very well harbor for having done the unspeakable in exchange for your life. She let the topic of wolves die right then and there before it could even be spoken, simply dedicating herself to stitching your cape back together, doing her best to make it appear as if it had never torn at all.

And not being forced to discuss what happened that night was certainly a relief, but not for the reasons your grandmother might expect. Because how would you explain to her that you actually liked the wolves that had found you in the deep, dark woods that night?

It’s utterly shameful how even now you still think of them, how their touch still feels engraved in your skin even as each season comes and goes. Shameful, how you look at that note they left behind as a sign that they’d want you back in their arms, that perhaps they think of you as much as you think of them. And they knew where you lived, they could easily seek you out whenever they pleased, but they never had. 

You assume it to be for the same reason they likely left you outside instead of carrying you to the front door of your cottage, or opening the door to bring you inside your home– because you lived with your grandmother, and what would that poor, frail woman do if she was confronted with the sight of two massive wolves holding her precious granddaughter? But despite the logical reasonings, there was a part of you that still felt.. rejected, somehow? 

It was fucking dumb, you knew this, but you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling that way. You just wanted to see them again so badly, to look at them and touch them and let them touch you, to bask in the warmth of their skin, to lay yourself against their massive bodies and revel in how feeling small was good in their presence.

Safety, protection– the complete opposite of what you should feel from them, the complete opposite of what you felt when you first laid eyes on Chan and then on Changbin, but somehow by the end of the night, that had all changed. 

To further complicate matters, your heats have since made the disgraceful yearning you feel exponentially worse, your mind flooded by the memory of them, your body aching to feel them again, every nerve inside you practically screaming for their touch. You are typically quite prepared for your heats, often stocking up on the herbs needed to brew natural remedies meant to make your symptoms more bearable so that you can be an effective caretaker for your ill grandmother, and they usually did well enough for you. 

Of course, it’s not a magic cure-all, nor does it completely alleviate any of the discomfort you feel, but it’s enough. You still need to make yourself cum a couple times before the night is over, but you can at least go about your day with little issue until the remedies effect begins to wane.

This week, and tonight specifically, was supposed to be more of the same– prepare dinner, get grandmother comfortably into bed, and then take care of yourself in the privacy of your room. If all went as expected, you’d feel satisfied enough to get some sleep, the next day you’d start your morning by brewing and drinking your homemade tea to calm your nerves, bring down your heightened temperature, and ease any aches you may experience.

You’d carry on through any remaining discomfort as best you could as you spent another day taking care of your responsibilities until night came, rinse and repeat for essentially a week until your heat eventually recedes and you can go back to your daily tasks as normal. Why had it become so different after meeting Chan and Changbin?

While going through a heat without a partner is never a comfortable experience, what you experienced now was downright unbearable; nothing you did to calm yourself or your body ever seemed good enough, none of your orgasms satisfying enough to dull the incessant need for something more, your only relief coming from driving yourself to utter exhaustion, when your body would be forced to give itself to sleep.

It didn’t make sense– it’s not like you were a virgin before you met them; you had your fair share of fun experiences with a few trusted friends of yours before you moved in with your grandmother to care for her. So certainly, while you weren’t exactly super promiscuous in your personal life, you were no stranger to sex, and you never fixated on your past partners during your heats the way you do now with Chan and Changbin. 

If you had to guess, it must be because of how different they were. Nothing about them was familiar, and that brought a unique sort of excitement you’d yet to feel again since that night had come to an end. Could that feeling be replicated with another rabbit?

You weren’t sure– and even if it could be done, would you want them over the two wolves? That was another thing you’d found yourself stuck on lately; was it them specifically that you wanted, or just a similar experience, in which anyone would do as long as they successfully replicated the sensations? 

Either way, you spent yet another night in unsatisfied yearning, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take it. And your poor grandmother would suffer for it, as your scorching fever and addled mind made your ability to care for her deteriorate.

Compounding on that even further, your longing for them was becoming increasingly heightened as you became more and more desperate for relief– a desperation that would drive you to make foolish decisions you wouldn’t otherwise make. You look again at the note the two wolves left behind, clutching it tightly in your hand as you consider what you should do next.

If you go see them again, grandmother will know– their scent will be all over you when you return, and what will you say? Will you admit you liked them and sought them out on purpose? Or will you make up some stupid excuse, blaming your every decision solely on your heat, chalking your choices up to a lapse in judgment brought on by your need for relief? 

But the simple truth is that it isn’t just your heat that makes you want to see them again, and even if you did place all of the blame there, it wouldn’t change what you have come to realize about yourself. The shameful reality is that you’re attracted to wolves– those two wolves in particular, and no one but them will be able to grant you the specific relief you seek. 

And you know how dangerous it is to leave your home when you’re in heat– your scent could attract far more than just Chan and Changbin, and truthfully speaking, there is no guarantee that you will find them before someone else finds you first. You’d be walking blindly, mirroring what you’d done the first time you were lost in the woods at night, though this time with the explicit hope that you’d be found by them. 

It’s dangerous, it’s foolish, you absolutely should not go into the woods at night looking for a fucking wolf– but that’s exactly what you do. Not even bothering to change out of your nightgown and into proper outdoor attire, you opt for tying on your cape and pulling up the hood, knowing they will instantly recognize you if you’re wearing it (as if they need more than just your scent to identify you in the first place.)

Just in case, you hastily write a note for your grandmother in the event that you aren’t back before morning, apologizing as you explain in the briefest of terms that you needed to soothe your growing ache. She’ll understand, you hope– she was young herself once, and surely she remembered what this feeling was like. And foolish though your choice may be, you hope she’ll sympathize and scold you lovingly instead of harshly upon your return. 

The night air feels impossibly cold on your fevered skin, but it’s hardly a deterrent– in fact, you welcome the way the wind chills your sweat, a small, but much appreciated form of relief before you hopefully experience what you truly wish to.

Honestly speaking, you have absolutely no fucking clue where you are going; there is no path to follow to their den, no landmark for you to use in an attempt to guide yourself to your destination. You simply wander in the direction you hope is correct, praying the one (or ideally both) of the two wolves you so wish to find stumbles upon you. 

You glance up at the sky, the waning moon and countless stars shining back at you; a full moon is coming, and you wonder if they even have time to play with you at all. You don’t know all that much about wolves outside of what is required for self preservation, but you do know that the full moon is important to them; will they even entertain you right now?

Maybe this truly is a fool’s errand, maybe you’re making a mistake and getting yourself lost for nothing, maybe–

Suddenly you’re being grabbed, body being forcibly turned around and back shoved harshly against a thick tree you’d passed just moments prior. Your breath hitches, and your nose recognizes who it is before your eyes do–Changbin. He's caging you in and looking down at you with a clenched jaw, his claws digging into the bark of the tree he has you pressed against, clearly trying very hard to control himself. 

“Y/N-” he breathes, voice strained as he uses your given name for the first time, and hearing it from him makes a new, fresh wave of heat crawl over your body. “What are you doing walking around out here smelling like that? Are you insane?” 

Unable to control yourself now that he’s close, you immediately grab at his shirt, twisting the fabric in your hands as you look up at him with pleading, glassy eyes. “B-Binnie, I– I was looking for you, needed to find you,” you explain, your voice embarrassingly weak with desperation, “need you and Channie to help me, please.” 

His grip tightens, you realize– the sound of wood cracking and splitting audible just behind your head. “Please? I’ll be a good bunny for you again, I promise, please help me,” you continue to plead, shamelessly pawing at him, begging for him to accept your advances. 

Holy shit, are you seriously doing this to him right now? Begging him to take care of you? Him? A wolf? A rabbit begging a wolf for something like this is completely unheard of, only occurring within his wild fantasies.

To be quite frank, he was aware that the first time with you was coercion– he and his elder saw a meek, defenseless rabbit, and they took their chances. He had his fun, and while you did too when things really got going, he fully expected that to be it, though he hoped otherwise. 

And God, he can’t even believe how reckless you’re being; what if it was one of the other wolves patrolling this area tonight that found you instead of him? He can only imagine how the younger wolves in the pack would react to your scent right now– he’s barely keeping himself in control as it, and he has much more experience with these matters than them.

He clenches his teeth as his gaze trails away from your eyes and down your body, where your nightgown leaves very little unexposed, where you are very clearly pressing your thighs together as you stare up at thim, expectant and hopeful. Fuck. You really want this, don’t you?

“Fuck, yeah, okay, just–” Changbin says as he picks you up, tossing all his responsibilities aside as you’re lifted from the ground and cradled in his arms, “just hang on, we’ll go find him, okay? We’ll help you.” And he’s trying, he’s really fucking trying to control himself and not just throw you down on the ground right here and have you all to himself, but you’re making it increasingly harder to maintain focus on the task at hand as he winds his way through the forest. 

Chan’s scent is barely discernible over the way yours intensely fills his nostrils, and even when he does manage to pick up on his elder’s location, he can hardly even focus in on it. And your hands wont stop roaming over his skin, you press your body to his as much as you can manage, absolutely desperate for contact.

He can hear you panting despite the fact that all he’s doing is holding you, can feel your body tremble in his arms, can smell the slick that steadily leaks from your core. And to put it simply, Changbin is a weak man, and your desperation is utterly infectious. But still, he holds strong; that is, until you start pressing kisses to any patch of his skin you can reach.

When your breath hits his neck before your lips latch on to it, he feels completely done for. This is it. Fuck it. Chan can have his turn with you later– Changbin is the one that found you, it’s only fair that he has fun with you first, right? And besides, you’re acting positively insatiable right now– how is he supposed to hold off or say no? That’s quite literally asking him for the impossible. 

So he falls to his knees, your bodies tangled together on the grass in a matter of seconds, your clothes being thrown off in a flurry. Changbin rotates to his back, pulling you on top of him, deciding that he should still be a gentleman even when his composure is at its limits and not let your bare skin touch the dirty forest floor.

He grabs your face, pulling you in to kiss him before you’re even fully settled on his lap; it’s a bit awkward, given the size difference between you, but he makes it work, curving and twisting his body however necessary to keep his lips on yours as you adjust your positioning. 

Your slick drips and pools, coating him entirely with no effort expended on either of your parts. He’s even bigger than you remember, and that feeling of pure adrenaline inducing excitement that you’ve missed so much finally returns to you. This is what you needed all this time, what you’ve been craving.

You grab the base of Changbin’s cock with one of your hands and do your best to line it up with your hole– and again, it’s awkward due to the difference in size between you, but you’re determined to see this through. “Wait, fuck, sweetheart–” Changbin gasps as you begin to sink down on him.

He fully intended to get you prepped first, was going to pull you up after he got his fill of kisses and have you sit on his face, make you cum and loosen you up enough to take him, but apparently you felt that you’d waited long enough to have him inside you again. And you’re so fucking wet that the slide down is relatively easy; benefits to being in heat, you suppose– it makes your fervent desperation for cock come with far less sting.

And no doubt, there is still a sting– after all, your body isn’t made to take a size so disproportionate to your own; but all it does is further ignite the fire in your gut, the excitement swelling as you take more and more of him inside. Changbin uses one hand to bear his weight and keep himself propped up while the other holds your face in place, his tongue shoved in your mouth. 

He hardly lets you pull away for a breath before you’re dragged back to his lips, a moan coming from deep in his chest when you meet his tongue with enthusiasm. Your palms are pressed firmly on his chest, your nails digging into the surprisingly soft flesh, your every moan and whine swallowed by his open mouth until your hips finally become flush with his.

You know you should feel the utmost shame, desperate as you are for a wolf, stark naked and exposed in the open forest where anyone could stumble upon you, but all you feel is relief. True, delightful relief, finally– Changbin gives you everything you need just as easily as you’d hoped he would.

You mentally compared him to a puppy during your first meeting– desperate, easily excitable, cute in a way that juxtaposes his rough exterior. And you knew, just knew he’d never deny you if you offered yourself to him, because it’s simply not within him to do so. A desperate puppy with his equally desperate bunny– what better pairing could there be? 

And truly, you feel like heaven– your body, so small in comparison to his, makes you feel impossibly tight, your wet warmth utterly perfect and beyond compare; he could die right now, and feel that his life was entirely fulfilled. “Be a good girl, and show me how good bunnies can bounce,” Changbin breathes as he lets go of your face, now supporting himself with both arms as he leans himself back to watch you. He huffs out a small laugh when he feels you clench, pleased to find that words still have a profound effect on you. 

Changbin expected you to start slow, but maybe expecting a desperate little thing like you in the middle of her heat to show restraint wasn’t his brightest moment– because you’re bouncing fast, and fuck, he knew rabbits had strong legs and were notoriously skilled at bouncing, but what the fuck?

You’re riding him like your life depends on it, which from your perspective may very well be true– you’ve been so pent up and unsatisfied that truthfully you couldn’t act any differently than this even if you wanted to. All you can think about, all that drives you, is your need to cum on Changbin’s cock– nothing else matters. 

Despite the fact that Changbin is using his arms and hands for the explicit purpose of keeping himself upright to watch you, you all but demand he brings them to you. It’s a pitiful attempt really, trying your best to learn forward enough to grab his hands without losing your balance on his lap and falling straight onto his chest, but thankfully he realizes what you’re going for and offers them to you before you can fully fall against him. 

His back once again touches the cool grass, with you intertwing your fingers as soon as his hands come to your own. His hands are much bigger than your own, fingers thicker, and you have to completely spread out your own fingers to even get them between his, but he squeezes your hands once you succeed. You use the additional support of his hands in yours as leverage for your bouncing, his arms strong and firm enough to help keep you upright and steady as you slide up and down his length. 

You can hear his tail thumping against the ground, a display of excitement and pleasure that he’ll never be able to disguise. Your nails dig into his knuckles, your bottom lip sucked between your teeth as you try to contain the noises that leave you, not wanting to alert the entire forest that you’re fucking right now (as if yours and Changbin’s combined scent doesn’t already give that truth away.) 

But there’s still something missing– something that a desperate puppy and bunny really needs; and that is someone to keep them in line. That’s where Chan comes in, tsking at the scene in front of him as he steps closer, having evidently caught your scent and came straight to where you are now, sitting on Changbin’s dick in the middle of the forest without a single ounce of shame between the two of you. 

“What’s this? Having fun without me?” he asks with a frown that feigns disappointment, though the slight swish of his tail and subtle spark in his eyes relays that he doesn’t actually mind very much. If anything, it gives him a chance for even greater fun, opens up a world of opportunity to tease and demand whatever he wishes.

And his sudden presence and voice doesn’t cause you to slow down in the slightest– rather, it excites you further, causing you to bounce with renewed eagerness as you turn your head in the direction you heard him, looking him squarely in the face even as you continue your motions atop Changbin.

“That’s not very nice, I thought you liked me,” Chan pouts as he squats down next to the two of you, though his obviously fake pout breaks into a smile when you whine and affirm you do like him and want to have fun with him too.

“We tried, fuck– we tried to find you, I swear, but she– she just–” Changbin is doing his best to talk, though you’re making it extremely difficult for him to be coherent, not letting up your pace in the slightest; and truth be told he’s never been much of a multitasker. “She– she’s fucking– God, I can’t–”

There’s also a pang of jealousy in the pit of Changbin’s stomach over how obviously excited the addition of Chan made you, how his presence and voice caused you to bounce on his dick with renewed vigor; and really, he should probably be happy that you’re putting so much effort into riding his cock thanks to Chan, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he squeezes your hands harder, almost instinctively, a gesture that he doesn’t even fully comprehend as possessive. “Oh, look at what you’ve done to poor Binnie. He’s a mess because of you, slutty girl,” Chan coos and your stomach twists as you divert your gaze back to Changbin. 

He’s sweating, panting hard, his stomach rapidly clenching and unclenching– and you feel it, the throb and twitch that alerts you to how close he is. And you’re close too, you have been for ages. Days worth of terrible, unfulfilling orgasms make the pleasure of this moment positively euphoric– but you were doing your best to hold out for Changbin. You know that once you came you won't have the strength to ride him anymore, and you want to be good and do what he asked of you to the best of your ability. 

And Chan can clearly see the signs on both of you; he’s shared with Changbin enough times to recognize his tells, and in your case, well.. It doesn’t take a genius to realize you’re about 3 seconds from gushing and creaming all over Changbin’s cock and lap.

But you started the fun without him! And he isn’t sure you deserve to cum so easily after leaving him out– so just as your volume picks up, your pace finally faltering as your taut line is about to snap, Chan grabs your hips and forces you down, bringing you to a complete stop. 

You whine loudly, wiggling your hips as you vainly try to lift yourself up again, but it’s impossible– Chan is much, much stronger than you after all. Changbin, who was close himself, curses and whines nearly as loudly as you, his brows knitting together as he tries to calm himself down. 

“Hyung, what the fuck–” he complains, though he doesn’t dare make a move to make Chan stop holding you down– he knows better than that. You look at Chan, bottom lip quivering and eyes glassy with fresh tears as babbles of “why” and “please” and “need to cum” leave you. 

“But weren’t you a bad bunny? Having fun with just Changbin, weren’t even thinking of me at all..” Chan says with another false pout. He is nowhere near as jealous and unconsciously possessive as Changbin, as he knows very well he can have whatever he wants, but this dynamic is where he has the most fun– exuding control is the greatest pleasure he knows. Changbin’s denied orgasm is just collateral.

“And poor Binnie, you dragged him down with you because you just couldn’t wait,” he continues, grabbing your face with one hand and making you look back at the wolf beneath you, “I think you should tell him you’re sorry. Tell him you’re sorry for being a slut who can’t wait and getting him into trouble with you.” 

You whine again, watching as Changbin swallows and bites his lip, clearly eager to hear the apology you’re about to grant him at Chan’s command. “I.. ‘m sorry, Binnie, ‘m really sorry,” you mumble, and Chan tsks again, very clearly unsatisfied with the meek apology.

“C’mon little red, you can do better than that, can’t you? Try again, we’re waiting.” You glance at Chan and then back at Changbin, swallowing as both of them stare at you and wait; the ball is in your court, and you have no choice but to deliver. 

“I’m sorry f-for being a slut, and ‘m sorry for being a bad bunny, sorry for getting Binnie in trouble, ‘m really sorry, I promise ‘m so sorry,” you try again, to which Chan smirks, taking his hand away from your face to give you a pat on the head. “That’s better,” he says as he finally removes his other hand from your hip. You take that as all the permission you need to start moving again, wasting no time in lifting your hips and slamming them back down onto Changbin’s lap. 

Changbin’s surprised gasp transitions into a moan, his hands once again squeezing yours while also trying to be careful not to pierce your skin with his claws. Eventually, begrudgingly, he lets go of your hands to dig his claws into the earth instead, finding that better than risking cutting into your precious skin.

Chan watches patiently, waits until you’re both close again before he brings you to another stop with his strong hands, frustrated whines leaving you both as you plant your feet firmly on the ground and try to fight against Chan’s natural strength.

“I didn’t tell you that you could move,” he explains as he watches tears fall from the corners of your eyes, “couldn’t even wait for my permission, and look at you now, in trouble again– dragging Binnie down with you, again.” 

You pout and cry, babbling apologies to both wolves, shame ever a foreign concept in the face of desperation– all you know is you want to cum, but if Chan needs you to be good, to ask first and follow his rules, then you will; you’ll always be as good for him as you possibly can be. 

When Chan removes his hands from your hips this time, you ask for permission as he wants you to. “Can I move, please? Please, I’ll be good from now on, I promise, just need to cum so bad,” you beg and he smiles as he coos, once again giving you a sweet stroke to your head.

“Of course, good bunnies can have whatever they want. Make Binnie cum too, he’s so good to you, he deserves it, doesn’t he?” Chan chuckles as you nod quickly, eagerly resuming the motions on Changbin’s cock as if Chan had never stopped you at all. “Tell him,” he says, moving his hand down your head, over your back and to your tail, tugging it ever so slightly, “he’ll get so excited. Go on, talk to him.” 

“B-Binnie, you’re so– so good to me, make me feel so good, want you to cum, d-deseve to cum– cum in me,” you stutter out between harsh breaths and Chan has to suppress the laugh in his throat when Changbin’s tail fucking whacks against the ground in an impossibly loud, excited thump. So predictable, he always is– can’t hide a damn thing he thinks or feels.

Changbin is the one grabbing your hips this time, helping you along as he starts to fuck up into your from below. You squeak and nearly fall forward onto his chest, but somehow manage to keep your balance and stay mostly upright, your hands gripping desperately at his biceps.

And in all the times they have shared someone, Chan is met with a sight he doesn’t think he’s ever seen. Changbin’s eyes are rolling back as bites his lip and chases his high from below, using all of his strength to move you however he wants. Clearly, being denied orgasms did something profound to him– he’s almost feral, relentless in the way he fucks into you.

When he feels the build up again, he tries to hold back, almost afraid that Chan will rip it all away from him at the last moment again– but then you’re squeezing him hard, he can feel more slick gush and coat his length as you cry out, and he loses it entirely, cumming in long, drawn out spurts, giving you all he has to give.

You’re entirely collapsed on Changbin’s chest now, seemingly spent from all the effort you exuded and the intensity of your orgasm, eyes closed as you try to collect your breath. Changbin is equally breathless, brain lagging as he processes the fact that he’s cum the hardest he thinks he ever has, and on top of that it was in the middle of the fucking woods with Chan controlling when you were both allowed to cum. Maybe he’s due for some self discovery after this..?

Changbin, whose senses are finally returning to him and recalls he was unable to kiss you at all once you really got going and was sorely missing it, lifts your face and pulls you into a kiss. One kiss turns into two, then to three, then to four, until you’re essentially making out, with Changbin effectively stealing away all the breath you’d just regained.

Chan watches for a time, lets Changbin indulge in what is one of his favorite intimate acts, but he can’t let you two be the only ones having fun for much longer. It’s Chan’s turn now, and he’s been patient enough.

He’s good at putting up a front, makes his control seem effortless, what with his boundless charisma and intimidating presence, but fuck, the minute he caught the scent of your heat in the air, he about lost it. Just as Changbin surely felt, he needs to fuck you before he risks going insane.

The younger wolf whines when you’re pulled off of him, a mess left behind on his lap where you once were. What a selfish pup he is– maybe one of these days Chan needs to remind him what it means to share. “Go home, Bin. And tell everyone still there to get the fuck out, so I can bring her back home with me.”

Changbin blinks for a moment as he processes, and then he’s scrambling to his feet, getting his clothes back on in a rush. Changbin wanted to bring you home too, but he knew he couldn’t– if he just walked in with you in his arms, it would’ve been chaos; the younger wolves with much less practice in self restraint would’ve lost their fucking minds. Even Chan and Changbin themselves had barely been keeping it together, still heavily effected by your heat despite how experienced they were. 

“Uh, when I do, can I.. y’know..?” Changbin asks before he starts to leave and Chan rolls his eyes before he lets out a small laugh. “Yes, Bin, you can join us again.” Changbin smiles, tail swishing cutely before he runs off and once again you have to suppress a giggle at the surprisingly adorable display. You wonder if he’d take offense to the fact that you view him as a puppy; he just screams “I need constant affection and attention or I’ll die” and it’s oddly endearing. 

Chan doesn’t let your thoughts linger exclusively on Changbin for long however; he’s grabbing your face again, diverting your attention back to him, making you look straight up at him. He captures your lips in a kiss, one that is far more impassioned than you would’ve expected based on his cool exterior.

He holds you tightly, pressing your body firmly against his own, leaving no space between you. You in turn wrap your arms around his neck, sighing into the kiss as you are met with more of the sweet relief you’ve desperately needed. His hands travel over your body, refamiliarizing himself with the feel of your soft skin beneath his fingers, refreshing the memory, letting it become engraved once more.

When he pulls back, he is looking at you carefully, doing his best to continue to suppress his carnal need to have you long enough to ask you something that’s been mulling around in his mind, “Tell me honestly, little red. Did you want us to find you tonight, or was it an accident?” He needs to know if it was simply spur of the moment with Changbin, if anyone would’ve done if they’d approached you, or if it was them you specifically needed to get you through your heat. 

“You, I wanted you,” you answer easily, truthfully, a slight blush crawling over your face as you admit how you truly feel; your mind may be foggy from your heat, but you're not immune to the nerves that come with an honest confession, “I told Binnie too, that I.. I wanted you both.”

Chan smiles at your answer, a smile that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to how pretty he is when he smiles at you. “Good. Then my next question before I keep you for the rest of the night– do you want to be ours?” 

“B-Be yours..?” you ask, blinking up at him as your mind goes over what that could mean. “Mhm, mine and Changbin’s. Our sweet, little bunny that we’d take good care of. Our mate, essentially.. Do you want that?” Your breath hitches, the blush on your face growing as the words swirl around in your head.

Their mate. Chan’s. Changbin’s. Both of them.. Their mate. “A-Are you serious? I mean– I’m a rabbit, and you’re.. not.” From what you've heard, wolves take having a mate very seriously.. and he wants that special someone to be you? And to share that special someone with someone else? Is that really okay?

“I’m completely serious. And you don’t have to be if you don’t want to, but I hope you know it’s not something I offer easily,” he says, stroking your cheek, offering you the softest smile you’ve ever seen him hold. “And you feel it, don’t you? The inexplicit desire, how nothing since having each other has felt complete, satisfying.. enough?”

You swallow as you nod, knowing that much is true– ever since you met them, every night without them felt.. wrong somehow. Like you weren’t where you were supposed to be. And God, how unbearable your heats had become, going far past the usual discomfort into completely uncharted, agonizing territory. 

“I do, I really do,” you answer, unable to lie about such a thing even if you wanted to. And there’s still so much about your life you’d have to figure out, but you know you’d regret it if you said you didn’t want to be theirs, you’d live in agony if you didn’t have them. He smiles again before he kisses you, hands traveling down to your legs, over your thighs and hips, until he’s cupping your ass, lifting you up and bringing you closer.

You leak onto his lap, but he doesn’t mind, can’t even process it, really– his mind is full of you. Of your scent, of your touch on his skin, of his on yours. And just how you’d done with Changbin, you insatiably run your hands over whatever patch of his skin is within your reach. And if his senses weren’t in overdrive from your scent, he’d admonish you for being so insatiable, tease you for being a slut and make your face burn red from filthy, whispered words.

But he has to admit the desperate, needy side of you he’s witness to is a treat, and it works at the rope that is his composure in record time, steadily tearing at it until all that keeps it together is a thin thread. He’s no better than Changbin, is he?

Really, if this is how you’ve been from the start, it’s clear the younger wolf never had a chance; but Chan is the superior here, and he has to set an example– what good will it do if he can’t stay in control long enough to get you back to his den? He has something to prove– to himself, to Changbin, and to you; that he doesn’t break and give in so quickly and easily.

So he quickly rises to his feet with you in his arms, carefully leaning to where your clothes were discarded and picking them up, covering you in your cape like it’s a blanket. “Just in case there’s some stragglers still at home,” he explains; when you’re officially his mate, no one will touch you, but until then, he’ll take every precaution necessary to protect you from other wolves that may want you– barring Changbin, naturally. 

It takes you no more than a few minutes to get to their den thanks to his speed, and just as before you closed your eyes and clung to him tightly as he wove through the trees to get there. Thankfully, it seemed Changbin did a good job at relaying that the leader wants everyone gone until morning, as the only sight you are met with inside is him sweetly and excitedly waving as Chan approaches with you in his arms. 

Just like the first time, Changbin trails close behind on the way to Chan’s room, locking the door for security when you’re all inside. You’re set down on the bed, with Chan putting your discarded clothing on his nearby armchair before he’s sitting next to you. Changbin also wastes no time getting his clothes off again, to which Chan stares at him incredulously until Changbin replies with a simple “what?”, causing Chan to scoff in disbelief and you to giggle. 

Changbin sits on your other side, his hands in his lap as he waits for whatever it is Chan is going to do next; and he may be jealous, but he won’t interfere with whatever his elder wants to do with you, even if it means all he gets to do for the remainder of the night is watch.

Chan reaches out, pushing your hair behind your shoulders and exposing your neck, to which Changbin instinctively swallows. He resisted last time, only scraping your skin with his teeth, but he wanted to bite you so bad that night. 

It was a bit strange, considering he’d never had such an urge with previous partners; he liked them, of course, they were pretty, sexy, fun.. But he almost felt the natural instinct for a wolf to bite was either a myth or something he wasn’t meant to experience until he had you.

And maybe that’s why he felt so jealous when Chan captured your attention; Changbin has always been a jealous person, but it never felt this.. real, almost? Serious, and not entirely playful and fun-aligned as it usually was. 

Changbin watches as Chan trails his fingers over your neck, the both of you instinctively holding your breath. He watches as Chan replaces his fingers with his lips, watches as he trails kisses over your skin, watches as his hands travel to your thighs and squeezes them. His jealousy mixes with excitement, softened cock beginning to harden once more, his fingers twitching and aching to touch you some more, but not acting on the desire; it’s Chan’s turn, he has to remind himself repeatedly.

Chan chuckles a bit when he pulls away and sees Changbin very clearly internally struggling; he’s so simple when it comes to things like this, incredibly easy to read. Once more, Chan grabs your face, but he does something new this time– he makes you tilt to the side, exposing the entirety of the right side of your neck to Changbin.

He licks his lips and swallows before tearing his gaze away from your neck to look at Chan, unsure of why exactly he’s exposing your neck to him like this. “Bite her. I know you want to,” Chan says much too casually for Changbin’s poor brain, his eyes widening in surprise as he practically gawks at his elder. 

“W-What? But– I can’t, she’s–” he stutters out, and you’re surprised to hear him so flustered; you guess the rumors are true– wolves take mating and bites very seriously. It’s not something he’ll do on a whim, even if he desperately wants to.

“She wants you to. Wants both of us to,” Chan continues with a smile as he watches the gears turn in Changbins mind, “isn’t that right? Tell him, sweetheart.” 

“’s true, I wanna be yours. Both of yours,” you tell him and Changbin groans, though you can’t tell if it’s from disbelief, pleasure, or a mix of both. He takes one of your hands in his, squeezing once more as he leans down to your neck, inhaling your scent as he presses open mouthed kisses to your skin.

“You’re sure..? This isn’t something you can take back,” Changbin asks between his hot kisses, and you affirm eagerly, that yes, you absolutely want this. “Together then?” he asks as he pulls away, looking at Chan with utmost seriousness.

Chan hums his agreement before he’s tilting your head backwards, your entire neck exposed to both of them. And though this is something you want, you can’t help but be nervous as they take their places on either side of your neck, their breath tickling your skin and causing you to squirm. “Relax, sweetheart,” Chan whispers soothingly, his hand coming down to find the one Changbin isn’t holding. 

You let out a breath, doing your best to will you heart and nerves to calm; this will change your life forever, but it’s a change you accept wholeheartedly. Once the initial pain subsides, you know they’ll take the utmost care of you, they’ll make it all worth it. You feel their teeth start to prick your skin, their positions on your neck a true mirror of one another– the same placement on either side, marks that will show to the entire world that you have not just one mate, but two.

Chan’s fangs pierce your skin first, causing you to gasp and squeeze at their hands, crying out when Changbin’s own fangs follow shortly behind. It stings, but that initial pain dulls rather quickly, and you’re soon left with only the pleasurable feeling of belonging, of.. love?

Or maybe that's not entirely accurate given how this all came to be, but whatever it is transcends anything you've ever known or experienced in your life thus far. It’s unique, special, new– a fitting description for your newfound relationship, and all the emotions it conjures within you.

Changbin is the first to kiss you when they seperate from your neck– and it's to be expected, he just can't help himself. But possessive though he can be, intentional or otherwise, he pulls away rather quickly, giving Chan his opportunity to kiss you too– because it’s not just him you belong to, and he wants to make it clear that even when he’s clingy, or jealous, or pouty, he’ll never do a single thing to jeopardize what the three of you have together.

He simply hugs you as Chan kisses you, his lips ghosting over the mark he left behind, soothing a sting that no longer exists. You wondered, when you were back at home in your cottage in the clearing, if it was okay to miss them. Was it foolish, did it even make sense to want to see them again?

But you feel you’ve found your answer– you were meant to miss them, were supposed to feel a tug in their direction, were supposed to find them irresistible in every aspect, to desire them with all that you are. They are meant for you, and you for them, and maybe everything up to this point happened the exact way it was supposed to; and now you were truly where you belong.

Though Changbin should keep his hands and lips to himself given that it’s Chan’s turn to have his fun with you, he really can’t help himself. You’re sure Chan notices, as he notices everything when it comes to the both of you, but he doesn’t scold, tease, or pull you away.

As fun as it would be to make you both whine and pout, this is a moment that will never be replicated– to bite someone like this is an act that you hopefully only do once in your lifetime. For the first night of belonging to each other at least, he’ll loosen the reins of his control just a bit for Changbin’s sake.

Chan guides you, and in turn Changbin, to lay back. Changbin's back hits the wall, while yours rests against his chest, where he cups and grabs your breasts from behind, squeezing and playing with them to his heart’s content while Chan continues to kiss you. His tongue slides in your mouth when Changbin’s rolling and pinches of your nipples causes your mouth to open with a moan, Chan’s own hand traveling between your legs, his fingers becoming quickly coated in your slick. 

Your body jolts when he rubs your clit, instinctively squirming and avoiding his direct touch– because even though it’s the first time either of them are touching it tonight, you’ve been abusing it all week whilst chasing your (unsuccessful) orgasms. It’s tender, sensitive– and you say so, a tremble in your voice as you try to make Chan understand that the feeling is just too much right now.

“It’s too much?” he questions, and you’d think his tone was one of genuine concern were it not for his smirk giving away that he doesn’t very much care if the feeling is overwhelming you, “but you’re making such pretty sounds for us. And I thought you needed to cum? Isn’t that what you told me?” 

“Y-Yes, but–” you start but Chan quickly shushes you, another roll of his fingers making your eyes roll back as you continue to squirm. Your hands instinctively go to his wrists, simply holding them as you know you’d never actually be able to push him away.

“But what? I’m giving you what you wanted, silly girl,” he says with a smile that you’d view as sweet if you didn’t know any better, “you should be thanking me. Go on, tell me ‘thank you’, nice and sweet, ‘kay?” Oh, he’s so mean– and Changbin is no better, because he feels it fair to remind you that apparent cuteness and loss of composure aside, he’s just as much a menace as his elder.

“Yeah, yeah, do it, pretty. We wanna hear it,” he says, close enough to your ear that it makes you shiver and squirm some more, whining in equal parts embarrassment and pleasure. Because even if it is overwhelming, it does still feel good– so good, you can’t help but cry.

“Th-Thank you, thank you,” you say between moans and gasping breaths, your nails digging into Changbin’s thighs now that you’ve released Chan’s wrists from your grasp. “Hmm, are you sure that’s all you wanna say? I think Channie-hyung expects more from you,” Changbin says with a grin you can’t see but can certainly hear.

He’s right, of course, but you have no idea how you’re supposed to string together a coherent sentence with the way they’re coordinating their touches to your body and talking to you. But you have no choice but to do your best, because the alternative is disappointing them, and you would never.

“Thank you– thank you for making me feel s-so good, thank you Channie, Binnie, th-thank you.” Choppy and hardly coherent through your whimpery moans your words may be, they seem satisfactory enough; Chan hums approvingly, and you can feel Changbin’s cock twitch against your back.

“That’s my good girl,” he smiles, increasing the speed of his fingers before he corrects himself, “our good girl.” You squeeze your eyes shut, legs twitching, entire body trembling, though you no longer instinctively squirm away from his fingers– your body has finally accepted it, you suppose. Apart from the tremble and shake in your legs, your body is otherwise limp, accepting of every bit of stimulation they bring you.

You’re close, they both know, but given the circumstances, Chan decides to be kind this time– he can make you beg and cry some more later, for now he should give his good bunny what she needs. “Gonna cum aren’t you, pretty bunny? Go ahead and let go, let us hear it,” Chan says, doing his best to apply more pressure with the pads of his fingers, though how sloppy you are from slick doesn’t make the task entirely effortless– not that he minds, of course; he likes the mess you’ve made between your legs. 

You cry as you nod, head falling back against Changbin’s shoulder when his tugs and pinches to your nipples become harsher. You try to warn them before it happens, but you can’t– it hits you so hard that you can’t even utter any further noise, your mouth hanging open in silent cries as your eyes roll back and body tenses and untenses rapidly, gushing and making a further mess of Chan’s fingers and the mattress beneath you. 

They both whisper praises in your ears, sweet encouragements and dirty words that further drag out the euphoria you feel. You’re not sure how much time has passed before you open your eyes again, feeling Changbin’s hands rubbing your hips and thighs while Chan strokes your cheeks, smiling sweetly at you, actually sweetly, as your senses return to you.

“There’s our girl,” he says after giving you a quick peck on the lips, “did such a good job, sweetheart.” He strokes your head as Changbin presses sweet kisses to your neck and shoulders, moving his hands from your thighs to wrap his arms around you in a soft hug.

“Channie, fuck me now?” you ask, because as breathless and nearing exhaustion as you are, you’re still eager to feel him inside you, and you won't be truly satisfied until you get another load of cum inside you– his specifically. His smile turns to a grin, his hands coming down to your hips, prepared to move you into whatever position he desires, “Course sweetheart, nights not over until I’m done with you.” 

He flips you around effortlessly, Changbin catching you before you fall completely against him. He holds you upright while Chan adjusts the position of your hips, aligning his cock with your hole once he has you how he wants you. Changbin kisses you as Chan slides his way inside your heat slowly, swallowing every little noise that escapes you.

And really, you’re beyond wet and prepped enough for him to go fast if he wants to, but he doesn’t. Not entirely because he wants to tease you (though it does serve that purpose), but because he’s been so on edge this entire time that he’ll cum in record time if he doesn’t, and he’ll die before he lets Changbin last longer than him. 

Changbin, who is happy to have your attention again, has his tail thumping excitedly against the mattress. You’re holding onto his shoulders for support as your tongues play together, gasping into his mouth when Chan is finally fully sheathed inside you, his hands digging into your hips whilst still trying to be cautious of his claws and their ability to pierce your delicate skin (though you don’t think you’d particularly mind if they did.)

Changbin brings a hand to one of your ears, stroking the soft fluff and causing you to whimper as you clench around Chan’s cock, earning you a grunt from behind, a clear sign that he felt it. It’s not meant to be a challenge against Chan’s ability to hold out, but he takes it as one– if anyone is going to break and cum fast, it won’t be him.

His hand comes around to your front, grabbing your neck with just enough strength to pull you back towards him. You gasp and whimper, turning your head as much as you can to look at Chan while he holds your neck. “Make our Binnie cum again while I fuck you, and then I’ll let you cum again too. Understand, bunny?”

You nod quickly as Changbin whines and his cock twitches. Our Binnie– he likes the sound of it more than he’d expect. Chan whispers a simple ‘good girl’ in your ear before he lets you go, letting you fall back into Changbin.

Your head lands on his chest, and he intends to lift you up to support you and shift himself into a position that’ll benefit the both of you, but it doesn’t seem you need it�� your hands are instantly on his cock, your tiny hands wrapping around and stroking as much as they are able. He groans and grabs your face, lifting it up enough so that he can lean down to kiss you.

Your pace falters when Chan finally starts to roll and thrust his hips, but you do your best to keep steady, determined to perform well and be allowed to cum again. You’re gasping, whimpering, crying as Chan’s pace turns to one you can only describe as purely animalistic– and fair, you admit, given how much self restraint and composure he had to hold until now. The fact that he even went this long before losing it is a herculean feat. 

Despite that, he is still firm on the idea that he absolutely will not cum before either of you do, so he reaches around and grabs one of your hands, taking it away from Changbin’s cock and bringing it up instead to one of his twitching ears. “Wanna see our Binnie really lose it? Rub his ear, he’ll go crazy.” 

“Hyung–” he opens his mouth to protest as his face starts to flush, seemingly embarrassed that his weak spot is being called out. The complaint dies in his throat however when your fingers softly rub over his ear, a gaspy whine coming out instead as his hips jolt up into the other hand still on his cock. 

“Fuck, shit-” he weakly whines while Chan smirks in victory– though the smirk doesn’t last very long, as he truthfully isn’t fairing much better than Changbin in regards to how good you’re making him feel. Maybe in the end, his plan backfired– because each noise that Changbin emits causes you to clench harder; but he still has other ideas in mind to make the two of you cum first.

Chan’s fingers find your clit again, making your body jolt and your hands grip at Changbin harder– on both his poor, sensitive cock and equally sensitive ear. He curses again, eyes rolling back for the second time, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as his hips once again unconsciously thrusts upward.

It reaches a point where he’s essentially doing all the work, your fist almost entirely still while Changbin fucks your hand. His hands dig into the sheets, almost tearing them as he clenches at the fabric between his fingers. “O-Oh fuck, ’m gonna cum– harder, touch me harder, please–” 

Butterflies explode in your stomach, having never expected to hear Changbin beg the way you are usually made to. You do as he asks, you’d never dream otherwise; your fingers grip him harder, squeezing his cock and rubbing harsh circles on the soft ear in your hand. The thump of his tail is erratic, his breaths harsh as his head falls back, cum shooting on your hand and his stomach.

When he opens his eyes and lifts his head, he’s met with the sight of you licking his cum off your hand before your scooping up the mess he made on his stomach with your fingers. You stick them in your mouth, licking them clean and then sticking out your tongue to show him it’s all gone when you’re done, twisting your neck after to show Chan too. 

“F-Fuck,” Chan stutters a groan, pulling out long enough to flip you back around, your back hitting the mattress as Changbin moves to the side to watch. “Such a good girl, cleaning him up without having to be asked, should– fuck, should reward you, shouldn’t I?”

But he already promised you could cum if Changbin did, so what’s the next best reward he could give you? “What do you want? Tell me, bunny, and I’ll give it to you,” he decides to simply ask as he slides back into your wet warmth, resuming the harsh pace he’d set before you flipped back around. 

“K-Kiss? Can we kiss?” you ask and he chuckles, stroking your cheek as he brings his face close to yours, close enough that your noses are touching and you can feel his breath against you.

“That’s it? That’s all you want?” he asks, unable to suppress the smile when you quickly nod, “Bin’s gonna get jealous, y’know. You’ll have to make it up to him after.” But before you can reply, he’s kissing you, tongue shoving it’s way in your mouth.

Chan’s pace is fast and not entirely accurate, but God, he’s trying– and you perfectly understand, because even with the cool exterior he exudes, you can tell he’s barely been holding it together. He’s utterly gorgeous like this too, sweat dripping and jaw clenched, brows scrunched and veins popping from exertion, pretty lips glossy from your kisses just prior.

He finds your clit once more, desperate to make you cum first, but his fingers are quickly replaced by Changbin’s, allowing him to focus purely on his own pleasure. Chan’s hands grab your legs and keeps them held open, his cock going as deep as it can go. 

“So perfect, perfect bunny for us,” Chan grunts as his head falls to your neck, lips ghosting over the mark he made with fangs. Changbin brings his other hand to one of your ears, rubbing the base in the same way you rubbed his, while his fingers on your clit rub in quickly practiced circles. “Yours, ‘m yours and Binnie’s, bunny just for you,” you affirm, body shuddering when Chan groans in response.

He’s close, so fucking close, but you have to cum first– so he closes his eyes and tries to focus on hitting the spot that makes you see stars, working to stave off his release as long as he can possibly can. And he’s successful, Thank God– between his perfect thrusts and Changbin’s fingers, you’re cumming again in no time at all, the wet spot beneath you growing as you drench Chan in your release. 

He grunts, thrusts reverting back to their sloppier rhythm as he chases his high, his grip on your thighs sure to leave bruises behind. A string of curses leave him as he finally cums, filling you to the point it leaks even as he’s still fully pressed inside.

Your eyes are closed, heavy with exhaustion, but you hear them talk to each other as they wipe your sweat away and clean you up between your thighs. One of them picks you up, Chan you think, while the one you assume to be Changbin changes the sheets for him, absolutely filthy after the night you just shared.

Tired and not entirely conscious as you are, you still snuggle into the chest of the one holding you, and it’s confirmed it’s Chan when you hear him chuckle and whisper something about you being “sweet and cute.” You tiredly whine when you’re put back down, eyes still closed but missing the warmth you were enveloped in, and hear them once again chuckle before you feel them on both sides, pressed against them in the middle. 

With a struggle, you blink awake, body heavy and eyes still impossibly tired, the darkness surrounding you making it near impossible to tell what time it is. It's clear you're still in their den, and wolves dens are always dark given their nocturnal nature.

You're laying on your back, you realize, Changbin’s arm slung over your stomach while Chan, who is also apparently awake, is stroking your head as he looks at you. “You didn’t sleep?” you ask quietly and he shakes his head, whispering his reply back to you.

“It’s still the middle of the night, sweetheart. We never sleep at night– but well, after what you did to Changbin, he was out as soon as he got comfortable next to you. Couldn’t stay awake even if he wanted to.” You quietly giggle, turning your head to catch a peek at him. He looks cute, peaceful– you give him a soft peck on his cheek before you turn your attention back to the awake Chan.

“He’d lose it if he was awake during that, y’know. He loves cute shit like that,” he says and you smile– you can tell, it’s obvious; Changbin is a bit of an open book, you think. “What about you?” you ask and he scoffs a little, turning his gaze away as a slight smile peeks out on his lips.

“Course. I just don’t make it as obvious as that idiot. Seriously, we have a reputation to maintain.” You peck his cheek, and he scoffs again, trying to hide the growing smile and retain the cool image. “Don’t start– you’re gonna make me as bad as him.”

“Is it going to be morning soon..?” you ask as you lower your head back to the pillows. “It will be in a couple hours,” he replies, turning back to you with a more serious expression, “you need to go back home, yeah? Can’t stay here?”

You frown as you nod, a strange feeling of loneliness filling your gut at the idea of leaving them behind to go back to your cottage. “Grandmother needs me..” you tell him and he hums in understanding, careful not to expose the ache in his chest that you’ll be parting soon– whether that’s courtesy of the mating bite or if it’s feelings he’d have regardless he can’t entirely tell.

“We’ll figure something out. Just get some more rest for now, okay? I’ll be right here.” You nod and close your eyes, relaxing further when you feel him start to stroke your head again. When you shift slightly for comfort, Changbin instinctively holds you tighter; even in his sleep, he has to make sure you’re close.

There’s a lot you’ll have to confront come morning, but you decide to follow Chan’s words and leave it until then. You lay one of your hands atop the one Changbin has resting on your stomach, and use your other to touch Chan, humming happily when he brings his own over to hold it. 

For now, you’ll fall back to sleep, you’ll indulge in the safe comfort you feel while sandwiched between their bodies, holding their hands, secure in the knowledge that even though your life will be drastically different from now, it’s what will make you happiest. A bunny and her two bad wolves, who aren’t actually as bad as they seem– this is where you belong.

[would-you-punt-them]

Imagine watching a show with probably the most surface level potrayal of the message of "rich people suck and will use poor people for money" only to be like "hm. as the total anthesis of this message i should totally recreate this"

It's made even worse when you consider the fact that this isn't the first "IRL Squid Game" ever attempted, Netflix UK did one that was specifically based on the actual show in January 2023 called "Squid Game: The Challenge".

(I've seen people in the tags get these two shows confused, they are different - Beast Games is on Amazon, not Netflix, was filmed at the end of July this year, and hasn't come out yet).

But Netflix UK have their own scandal to answer for.

That original British Squid Game was also a disaster. "Beast Games" was filmed in the middle of one of Nevada's hottest Julys on record, hence why so many contestants suffered from extreme dehydration due to the lack of water. On the other hand, "Squid Game: The Challenge" was filmed during an unusually cold British January.

The players had been given coats, leg warmers, space heaters, and so on during the lead up to the game, only to have those warm clothes taken away before the first challenge began, because they needed to wear those paper thin canon-accurate Squid Game tracksuits. They weren't even allowed to zip them up, because the cameras needed to see the numbers on their shirts, and the fake blood spurting out when they were eliminated.

They then had to play Redlight-Greenlight in the blistering cold, holding poses, completely still, for increasing lengths of time (2 minutes at the start of the game, 30 in the late stages). Players starting collapsing from the cold, and had to be rescued by medics.

The game started with 456 competitors on Day 1, and ended up with 228 by Day 2.

Here's the Variety article: Inside Netflix’s ‘Squid Game’ Reality Show Disaster: ‘The Conditions Were Absolutely Inhumane’

TL;DR - Here are some choice quotes in case you want to read them:

“The second time the song played, I saw in my left peripheral vision that this girl was swaying. Then she just buckled, and you could hear her head actually hit the ground,” says Marlene. “But then someone came on the [microphone] and said to hold our positions because the game is not paused. After that, people were dropping like flies.”

Jenny, a player from outside the U.K. who had been flown in for the game, tells Variety: “I’m infuriated by the narrative that Netflix is putting out there, that only [a few] people were injured…we were all injured just by going through that experience.

“I’ve never been that cold for that long a period in my life. We couldn’t feel our feet or our toes. It was ridiculous,” she says. Jenny also claims that while the game was in production, restroom or water breaks weren’t allowed.

“Take some responsibility for the fact that you were ill-prepared for this kind of thing, with this number of people,” continues Jenny, between tears. “There were some things I guess [producers] didn’t think about, but when they saw the weather was going to be that way, they should have made adjustments.”

All three players [John, Marlene and Jenny] say they returned to the hotel between 7 p.m. and midnight without having dinner. Dinner orders had been taken at lunch, but because the game had run longer than expected, contestants were transported back to their central London hotel without having eaten. Production had ordered pizzas for those arriving, but there wasn’t enough food to go around, and some people went to bed hungry.

“In the morning, I woke up and there was a cold hamburger from McDonald’s and a side salad in front of my door that had been there for God knows how long,” says Marlene.

(Variety, Feb 3, 2023)

(Also, "Marlene and Jenny" are pseudonyms, because like Beast Game they signed NDAs.)

There are some other similarities with Beast Games - denial of bathroom breaks, lack of food, lack of water, inadequate medical care, and so on.

Netflix is denying these claims, or at least denying that they are as bad as contestants are suggesting, and said that while it was undeniably cold on set, "participants were prepared for that". Participants have claimed that they were, in fact, in no way prepared for that.

We know MrBeast has probably seen "Squid Game: The Challenge", because they've tried to one-up it. The British show originally had "the biggest cash-prize ever offered in reality TV" ($4.5 million), until Beast Games showed up with an ever bigger prize of $5 million.

So, it's not just "Jimmy recreating the Torment Nexus after watching the show "Don't recreate the Torment Nexus".

It's closer to "Jimmy recreating the Torment Nexus from the show "Don't create the Torment Nexus", after watching the show "This is what happens when you create the Torment Nexus".

[dollfacedsl1ut]

Crystal Moon

dynamic: g!p ning x siren!fem reader

synonsis: ningning went to a nearby beach to clear her mind but there’s a unexpected visitor who she meets along the way

warnings: dubcon, manipulation, exhibition, seduction, dacryphilia (crying), begging, overstimulation, both are dominate at one point, Ning is a little depressed lmk if I’m missing smth !!!!

wc: 1,329 or 1.3k

A/N: in honor of my LONNGGGGG awaited return I’ve made something new plus I’m accepting bg requests!!

The old sand molted the shape of ningning feet as she walked along the beachside, this was the only way she would be able to think, everything was just so clouded in her mind and she needed to catch a break, whether it was paparazzi or stalkers following her it was all too much, this beach reminded her of the good times she had as a kid although it looked different….. it was windier and cloudy all the time not a lick off sun in sight..

Ning rested against a large rock near the ocean the tidal waves marking their path in the brown sand, her eyes felted heavy as she glanced at the empty vodka bottle she had tucked away in her jacket, she knew she’d have to go back and face reality eventually but a little break wouldn’t hurt anyone

She let her eyes close for a brief second before a a sweet yet seductive tune played in her head, maybe it was the alcohol she thought over and over until the rhythm changed…”Yeah theres no way I’m dreaming” she thought as her legs dangled from the large rock, the tune got louder and more intense but the voice of whatever it was made her head foggy, foggier than it was before it was mind controlling in a way, she counted complain it was such as beautiful thing to hear but she felt like it was the only thing she heard the sound of the ocean water hitting the rocks gone, the sound of the birds chirping and flapping their wings erased, just the tune was heard, yeah she was in denial until a dark figure was seen moving from under the wooden brown bridge in front of her.

Maybe her suspicions were true she’s not dreaming…but in fact hallucinating Ning groaned as she lifted her body off the rock before plopping down on the sand, she could’ve swore she stepped on a seashell or a hermit crab? But nonetheless her foot was on a sharp object, she didn’t know if she wanted to check on her foot or follow the figure who released the tune..

She just couldn’t think straight so ignoring her very aching foot she went after it but the song got louder and more hypnotizing and intoxicating it felt like drinking the most throat burning alcohol in the world, right when it felt like she was gonna faint she spotted a dark purple tail she reached out to try and grab it but it moved upwards like it was begging Ning to touch it, but that’s when the song stopped as the tail turned into a pair of long soft legs

“H-hello” Ning said with a shaky voice unaware of the creature that was before her eyes, the now human walked in front of ning as she gawked, your skin was glistening as her eyes trailed from your body to your chest then your dark eyes, they looked lifeless to Ning but she didn’t move..she couldn’t move..it was like someone was holding her in place.. you were holding her place the song she heard wasn’t a dream or a hallucination it was you..you lead her here to do what exactly??

Your dark eyes pierced her skin, it made her feel invisible but when your hand touched and grasped her shoulder she knew you were real “w-who are you” she whispered “if I told you who I was I’d be banished so let’s just call me siren” her voice gave her chills as she nodded your presence drove her crazy but your body was hypnotic, needless to say there was a visble tent in her pants as she looked at you trembling “I must say I never seen another human on this beach in months” Ning almost came right there when you kept speaking to her, she didn’t know you could sense her arousal, your arms brung Ning in for a bare hug before dragging her under the wooden brown bridge, she wanted to scream and fight, she didn’t want to go with you, she didn’t know if you wanted to kill her or even take her away she was defenseless because she just had to come to you, she just had to be attracted to your song and follow you…

You reached the bridge as you placed her down on the sand this part was much darker and colder it made her nipples perk up under her gray hoodie, Ning was afraid but aroused, you straddles her hips as your hands rested on her shoulders “you know what I’m gonna do to you is your own fault right…..you purposely followed me for you’re own reasoning” she wanted to believe it wasn’t but your words persuaded her, a smile formed on your lips as you unzipped her hoodie, her skin was so and delicate, it was life one slice with your claws and her skin would be tainted

Your hands trailed to her pants as her tent was visible you smiles softly before pulling them down but leaving them on her thighs although you were gonna take advantage of her you didn’t want her to get horrifyingly sick, there was a sight of precum left in her boxers as you pulled them down revealing her cock, it stood upright as it smacked against her soft belly it was so thick and long, this was visibly the biggest you’ve ever seen even male sirens didn’t have this much girth you thought as you slide down your panties, there was a hint of worry on nings face as you lifted yourself up then guided down on her cock, the stretch was painful but bearable, you sank down until your clit reached her pelvis, Ning gasped and whimpered under you as her hands immediately went to your hips kneading the soft flesh, you tried your best to stay silent but it just felt too good your body weakened as you moved your hips against hers her cock felt good in your tummy, her tips was pushing and hitting your cervix as you got leverage and started to lift your hips and bounce on your cock, your whimpers didn’t go unproved by Ning as she kept kneading your hips while letting out whimpers or curses every other second, your cunt squeezed her cunt deliciously as your hips moved restlessly it was so magical and synchronized, her flesh slapped against yours as liquid ran down your legs she didn’t know you came yet until the white ring formed around her cock, she felt her high coming as you clamped around her, she didn’t know you could get this tight it was unbearable as tears rolled down her cheeks, she came inside your cunt with a loud cry as her hands squeezed you tight, but you didn’t stop you wanted to be full you haven’t felt like that in a while and she was your only option, her cock veins bulged and dragged against her spongy walls as you came again, your cum was beginning to soaked her joggers, Ning hiccuped as she pleaded and begged you to go faster, her feeble voice was such a turn on it made your cunt quiver around her, you felt her hands snake up your body and grasp your chest fondling with your nipples, you moaned at the sensation, as your hips stuttered.. you were close again but so was Ning her cock throbbed inside of your cunt as she squeezed and pinched your nipples your bottom lip tucked under your teeth as you came around her for the last time, Ning followed as her warm cum coated your walls.

Nings eyes closed as you lifted yourself off her, you cleaned her up but left her on the sand unconscious or conscious you’ll never know, but you did know she’d be back to look for you and always you’d be singing your tune wishing she would be the one to come find you….

[hunterwritings]

could you pretty please do one ab miguel with the reader being like the complete polar opposite of him?? i'm practically frothing at the mouth for this 🙏🏻🙏🏻‼️‼️

THIS IS EXACTLY HOW MY OC ACTS AHHH i love this concept // sorry i kinda made it more of headcanons than an actual fic, i hope that's okay!

miguel with a sunshine s/o

summary: miguel with the someone the polar opposite of him warnings: none

you were practically everything that Miguel wasn't in terms of personality

you were bubbly and happy all the time, while he was dark and mysterious. It was almost like a perfect balance between the two of you

when you first met, Miguel knew that you'd be a pain in the ass to him. Someone who was trying to be optimistic and look at the brighter side of everything? He could never deal with it.

You'd bring him food & coffee everyday, to which he'd complain about but then get upset when you'd jokingly take it away

"I brought you coffee and a pastry treat!" You happily walked over to him with a cup and bag in your hands.

"Don't you know how bad that food is for you?" He asks, not moving his eyes from the screen in front of him.

"Fine then, I'll go give it to someone else." You say as you begin to turn around but see a glowing, red web attach to your side and pull you around in a circle back to Miguel.

"No, these are mine." He says, grabbing the coffee and bag, his expression not changing in the slightest.

"I knew you liked them!" You laugh in victory.

You always try and get Miguel to take care of himself; you see how hard he overworks himself (you honestly believe he does it on purpose) and you try to get him to take breaks every now and then and keep reminding him to eat and drink water.

He acts like he's annoyed, but in reality, he's probably gotten so much better with you around.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't wait for you to walk into his space every morning and greet him with a large smile across your face.

Miguel realized how he felt about you when you didn't show up to greet him one morning. You were 10 minutes late to seeing him and he started tapping his toes in eagerness.

"Lyla, have you tracked the location on (Y/N)?" Miguel asked, holding his hands on his hips.

"Y'know, I get the whole idea of knowing where everyone is at all times is pleasing to you, but even I think it's a bit weird to be spying on people like that." Lyla joked as she stared at her nails.

"It's not spying; (Y/N) is late." Miguel says.

"Oh! (Y/N)? As in, the (Y/N) that you seem to find 'unbearable' and 'hard to work with'? You worried about them?" She laughs as she glitches closer to his shoulder.

"They aren't usually late." He tries to justify himself but Lyla won't give up.

"Oh yeah sure, I'm sure you think about that to everyone else who's late to your nonexistent meeting." She smirks as Miguel scowls at her.

Then, you swing your way into the room, causing both Miguel and Lyla to turn their heads towards you.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it, Have fun living in denial, buddy!" Lyla says before saluting him and disappearing.

Miguel let that memory sit in his thoughts for a while. Was he really that worried over 10 minutes? Realization finally hit him and it crushed him. He tried his best to avoid you, in hopes that he would never hurt you or snap at you for any reason and didn't want to ruin anything like he did before.

Over time, he couldn't resist your bubbly charm and fell harder for you. He shifted his feelings and showed a softer side of himself to you, one that accepts all of your sunshine and happiness and cherishes it more than anything. This side of him is for your eyes only, no one else gets to see that softer side of Miguel O'Hara.

[bettysupremacy]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do steve Harrington x reader where Robin accidentally tells Steve that the reader has a crush on him? I love your writing 🫶🫶

this request made me realize I’ve been seriously neglecting Steve, I hope this satisfies enough

The days been seriously slow.

Rainy and cold, nobody wants to travel in the wet to get a movie. They do it the day before. It’d been busy. Customers in and out, in and out, buying their families copies of their favorite film. Steve’s sure he never sees as much business as he does the day the forecaster predicts rain.

“I kind of miss customers.” He now picks at the patterned carpet lazily.

Robin scoffs. “I don’t.”

“But like,” Steve breathes. “we’re so bored.”

“At least we’re getting paid.”

He shrugs. Good point.

She shuffles, dipping her hand down to tug on his shoe. He pulls back, faux kicking her. They smile at each other.

“Truth, what’re you doing after work?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I can’t drive around I’m busy.”

“Abandonment.”

“Stop!” Steve laughs, throwing carpet fuzz at her. “I’ve had this day booked for weeks.”

“Oooh,” She sips the slurpee she’d begged Steve to stop for before his shift obnoxiously. “do tell.”

“Y/n.” He murmurs.

The chill is seeping into his shirt sleeves, finding home over his skin briskly. Or maybe it’s embarrassment settling there. His eyes are heavy and he contemplates the reality of Robin letting him take a nap in the break room. She doesn’t look too trusting now.

“God, you guys are practically dating,” She complains. It’s not that she doesn’t like you, you’re her best friend. Just sometimes, she wants her other best friend to drive her around. “I’m sick of this. I introduced you!”

“We are not dating,” he laughs nervously. “you know that.”

“You practically are.” She shrugs. “Just ask her, I’m sure she’d say yes.”

“That’s not true.”

“She literally wouldn’t say no.” Robins annoyance bubbles out rather quickly. She didn’t sign up for abandonment and denial in one day.

Steve isn’t particularly perturbed by this, slumping over his knees dramatically. “What if.”

He murmurs it some more, quiet mantras of his unsurety.

“Dude stop.” She smacks his head. “I’ve known her for” She pretends to count on her fingers. “ever, if there’s one person she’d say yes to a date with, it’d be you.”

He peaks up from the solemn of his knees. “What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

Robin flinches, zipping her work friendly uniform jacket higher. “Just like,” she trails off. “you guys already know each other so well, I doubt she’d say no.”

He laughs a little. “You’re such a liar.”

“No i’m not!”

“And a bad one.” He giggles, attention undivided. “What do you know?”

“Literally nothing.” Robin moans. “We don’t even talk like that.”

“You’re so stupid!” Steve flicks her. “You’ve been friends ‘forever’.”

Robins palms soothe her eyelids. “She’s gonna kill me.”

This accidental defeat of admittance tingles in Steve’s fingers. Something he didn’t know he could feel until this confession of requited infatuation. Adrenaline pumps through his body, though he forces himself still for answers.

“Since when?”

“Awhile.” She understates for the sake of your pride.

“Wow.”

“Oh god,” She complains, almost whining. “Please don’t be stupid about this, she’s my only friend and I can’t-“

“I’m sitting right here, Rob.” He scoffs. “And I’m not going to be stupid about this.”

She peaks up, ashamed. “So what are you gonna do?”

“I mean shit,” he breathes. “I see her tonight.”

He checks his watch, standing up briskly to Robins horror. He cannot possibly be leaving her.

“What’re you doing?”

“I clock out two minutes ago.”

“No, no, no,” she whines, not making a move to get up. “do not leave me here alone.”

“I have places to be!”

“You’re abandoning me! Again!”

Steve walks straight into the break room, a new sense of pride bubbling in his chest. He’s gotta get his girl.

“Don’t be weird!”

[starlight-bread-blog]

Why Katara's Lines Come Off As Rejecting In EIP

Like I said in a previous EIP meta, this will be a doylist meta and an isolated look into the scene and the second half of book 3. So first things first, what are Katara's lines and body language?

As soon as A\ang brings up the kiss, she turns away, and just says she doesn't know.

When he asks her why doesn't she know, she seems slightly irritutated for a second, gives him a perfectly reasonable explanation, but doesn't hold eye contect for too long before drifting off.

A\ang keeps pushing, so she puts an end to this. This time she stays faced to him to say she is confused, signifying she's more comftable now that his questioning has ended.

Now it is clear as day that A\ang violated her boundries and she is pissed off.

Her lines and body language tell us two things I wish to break down:

Katara is very uncomftable talking about the possibility of a future romance and can't commit to an answer.

The reason she gives is that she is because she's confused.

2. Katara States That She is Confused

Let's try to take her at face value here. She's genuinely confused about her relationship with A\ang. Do you know what is the first role of storytelling? Show don't tell. If the writers wanted to show us that Katara trurly is confused, we should be seeing Katara grapple with that.

It wouldn't break the "Will They Won't They" tension, if anything, it'd amplify it. We can see this in action all the way back in season one, where Katara also is confused and considers if A\ang is a possible partner.

So, is that what we see? Small moment/moments of Katara looking at A\ang, being confused and considering him as an option? No, we do not. Instead, what we get from Katara, is...

We are told that Katara is confused, but what we're shown is Katara completely ignoring the source of her supposed confusion. What we're shown is not confusion, it's denial.

This is a sharp contrast to how well the writers made sure to remind us that Katara is still angry at Zuko over the course of these very episodes. From her threatening him when he first joins, to a mean spirited comment (at 0:21), there was a clear effort to keep up the tension, to make sure you know that Katara hasn't forgiven Zuko yet, until said tension is resolved. Meanwhile with Katara and A\ang what we see is the show, and by extension Katara, in denial to the whole event.

1. Katara is Uncomftable and Unable to Commit

If she is in denial and A\ang is making her face reality, would her behavior in the scene be compatible with that? Would she keep on avoiding the topic? Could her words register that way based on who she is? To know that, we could ask: does she have a history of shielding A\ang from reality?

(If the scene was revealed to be her shielding him), this isn't to say that Katara would consciously shield him the way she does here, she could've genuinely thought she was confused. There would be many ways to interpret the scene. However, it is in character for her to want to keep the peace to protect him from being hurt. Therefore, her lines in EIP could easily register to be of a similar fashion.

The show continuously refused to show Katara being confused, showing us nothing but denial. When she is faced with the reality, she refuses to commit when having a history of trying to shield A\ang for as long as she can. And this is why Katara's lines in EIP come off as rejecting.