#I feel like I need to add in more 'human' moments

[pranabefall]

✸ — MISC NOTICE. ; minors dni. zhongli x reader. again, some pure fluff but as an mdni blog i'm holding repellent XD. mostly silly silly stuff ihgfghj reader is implied to have studied in the sumeru akademiya. not edited!!!

"You're awake."

It's more a statement then anything else, Zhongli's arm snakes round you, steady in it's grasp. "I know you are." he adds, in a way where the depths of his chest seemed to rumble slow, slow, slowly.

You crack an eye open and stare straight at him, a sheepish grin flickering across for a moment ( only for a moment. You're incorrigible, as Zhongli liked to say ). "I've been thinking." You begin, your breath half caught at the back of your mouth. An excited thrum dances over your fingertips and you're half dizzy from the buzz and the tire. So much, there's so much, your stomach feels like it's about to explode.

"It's too early." he glances over at you with a pointed raise to his brow. "You can barely hear the birds out. Go back to sleep now." His hands are gentle against your cheek and you're almost swayed by the rumbling timbre of his voice and the low cadence. It's lulling you, but by bit, deeper and deeper.

"I've been thinking." You repeat with a little more force, lifting your head up to state your point across. You collapse back down a moment later when the room spins a bit. Perhaps you were too hasty ( goddammit ) and you content yourself with settling into the mattress and pulling the blanket over your shoulders.

His lashes flutter. There is fond exasperation there, melting into his chest and his nearly-there smile like butter. Its the most Zhongli thing about him, the tiny moments and peeks in through. "Alas." He sighs, nudging you close, laying your head over his bicep. "Tell me then."

Zhongli watches the way your shoulders hunch and your lips quirk. "A willing audience? How grand..."

"A little too willing, I'm afraid. I spoiled you so."

Your hands splay against his shoulders. He's warm.

"It's only going to take a minute. In fact, it's only a question. All I need are answers and that will only take as long as you want it to."

Ah there it is, the narrowed squint, the subtle shift and the signs of a slightly more alert Zhongli ( the Zhongli who'd straighten his back and cattishly stare at someone who dares to mention the name of some obscure historic even or little known tea ). "Ask me, then."

You fall silent, looking for your words.

"I was wondering. Is geo resonance susceptible to tearing apart organic tissue? How little is needed for it to do so, and how little for it to...not...?"

You don't think there is a sane way of phrasing that, to be fair. But you'd ask stranger things, always digging and questioning and presenting the wildest little ideas on odd days of the week. It's a side effect of the Akademiya and a lack of sages sushing you into a corner with a pile of textbooks and dry edged annoyance. And maybe the very aforementioned abandonment of shame.

"And by organic tissue..."

"Human flesh, Zhongli."

"Ah."

"More specifically muscles, tendons, bones...maybe even neural tissue to be fair. Any of that stuff."

Zhongli has the grace to not react, or give much away in his contemplation. You knock your head against his chin in gentle assurance. "You don't have to answer of course."

"It's certainly a strange one." He admits.

"It is." You grumble.

"Well..." He trails off before a breathy little chuckle trembles past. "We'll, I can't say I know a proper answer to this one. It's quite specific isn't it?"

"Horribly so. Different tissue have different densities. You can afford to be a little rougher with bone, for example. But something softer like grey matter would require far more finesse."

His hand is steady against the small of your back. "And you ask this because..."

Your lips tug at the corners. "An old junior of mine sent a letter in. The boy graduated from the Spantamad Darshan in my absence and had plenty of news to share regarding a few new experiments with elemental energy and the like." You turn over a moment. "If we could find the precise frequency needed, we may just be able to utilize geo resonances for medical diagnostics."

Zhongli blinks. It's a slow, thoughtful thing.

"That is fascinating." He muses. "So you seek to map put internal injuries then? Or perhaps tumours?"

"Yes!" You eagerly nod at that. "There are Fontanian inventors...and skilled akademics. They're calling a few alumni in to aud in the research."

Your cheek tucks into the crook of his neck. You feel his warmth and the too-slow heartbeat carefully wrapped in his chest, between ribs and flesh — made of anything but stone ( You're filled with a hunger. Zhongli calls it endearing, your passion, as quiet as it can be sometimes ).

"You were invited too." He guesses.

"Yes."

His lips test against your neck. "How long?"

"A while." You look outside, to the balcony and the horizon in the distance. Then you see Zhongli's face, his hair undone and sweep against your temple as he kisses you proper.

"Then go, little love."

"Are you sure?" You suddenly feel awful, and small, and selfish. Liyue had stuck fast to the buttery feelings in your chest and Zhongli had made himself a home there as well. A part of you wants to sneak him into your trunk, sprit him away to Sumeru. It's greedy, immature ( he's always waited for you, patiently ).

"Quite." He kisses your cheek next. "What's a few months?"

"An eternity." You grunt.

Zhongli is silent for a long, long moment. "Right now...it would be, yes." He says in the afterthoughts. "And will miss you terribly. But I've waited before, and I don't see why I cannot now."

He laces his fingers against yours.

"I'll write to you every week." You promise.

"Every week." He promises and he smiles his almost smile. You kiss his forehead. He sighs. "For now...I will say it again. Go to sleep."

"Yes, yes." You mutter, snuggling in. Zhongli tucks his hand beneath your knees and swings one leg over his waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

Let me be greedy, he seems to say.

You let him.

TAGLIST ノ join the taglist. — @silentmoths @meimeimeirin @sleepynoons @iuzas @endursent.

@jessamine-rose @ofoceansandtombsanew @chiyoso @loveliluc

[bonefall]

For Riverstar’s Heir, do you have any idea where you want to land themeatically? Because from my reading of the possible themeatic directions, with the whole story being about this crisis of politics and succession, it feels like the character who “should” become the next leader of RiverClan narratively should be the Most ruthless/aggressive/willing to resort to dishonorable methods of dealing with rivals (reinforcing RiverClan’s entry into/building up of the early Clans’ emerging systems of battle society)

The alternative “most interesting” option I can imagine would be one that is least likely/least aggressive/some otherwise sort of underdog candidate (maybe not even technically “legal” depending on what qualifications there are for heirship?), but I’m not sure exactly what themes that would play into, other than maybe how the pursuit of power can change someone?

That said, your themeatic instincts are strong enough that I can see you having a strong idea for a “middle-of-the-pack” candidate winning out over the others just as much, so— I am genuinely curious what your thoughts are for where you Want this crisis of succession to end, narratively, even if you don’t have an exact cat picked yet.

Good ask because I'd not been clear about the theme yet, I think. What Riverstar's Heir is trying to get at, at the heart of the issue, is that this is a bloodbath caused by naiive optimism and greed.

The commandments to establish borders and prevent killing are nice, but not enough. You can't just have a society on good will, not when POWER is up for grabs in the scramble. It's about collapse, and how innocent, well-meaning people get caught up in the devastation. Not JUST the troublemakers.

Riverstar was an EXCELLENT king, beloved and wise, but if you don't prepare a proper successor, everything you worked hard to build might crumble to ruin.

Something unique is lost in this shuffle. It's no longer the River Kingdom, and the Wind Coalition also becomes WindClan at this point. For better, and for worse, they both lose a bit of what made them special. Redscar's choice at the end also solidifies the early political power of Clerics, which is eventually broken many generations later with Larkwing's Strike.

So, fragment time,

At LEAST three "heirs" end up getting killed.

So, because these ones are gonna die, I have Three Heir "Slots" that I'm committed to and just need to fill;

The Eldest, Riverstar's oldest living biological child.

The Chosen, Riverstar's adopted heir, a rather meek prince easily pressured into backing off his rightful claim. This one is likely going to be the BB! version of Mossfire.

The Firstblood, directly descended from Riverstar's FIRSTborn child. This one is likely going to be the BB! version of Jumpfoot.

I also have two tentative slots.

The Accomplished... who is a blood relative of Riverstar, but more of a "puppet" for WindCo. Someone they're intentionally propping up hoping for power.

The Diplomat, from WindClan, who is a lot like WindCo's puppet but this one is more subtle about it. Poetic. Happy to purr and remind the world of the wonderful, deep ties that had existed between King Riverstar and Thunderstar.

And, LASTLY, there's The Deputy. The most qualified choice, who served Riverstar, but was no relative.

It feels right that the Deputy is the one who is chosen in the end... hm.

Anyway

After a smaller conflict near the start of the story, either The Eldest or The Firstblood seems to be the favorite to win... but decides to wait for the morning to set out for the Moonstone and take their lives.

In this time period, without selecting a successor, this heir is assassinated.

In fact it might be VERY fun if this heir, being so much like King Riverstar himself, decided to throw a pre-emptive celebration.

Meat! Merriment! MURDER!!!

Having them go out via poison would be a fun way to send a character off.

This is going to be why the "DEPUTY BEFORE MOONHIGH" rule is established, but it's also what kicks off the bloodier parts of the plot.

Thinking about it... a cleric and/or the deputy should probably tell this heir, "Hey, buddy, you should really get going" and they're ignored.

With Eldest Heir gone, the small conflict from earlier becomes an LARGE conflict.

And, like they did back in DOTC, families start to rally together. Especially Eldest's offspring, who think they're just as entitled to the Throne as The Firstblood/Jumpfoot

King Riverstar used to encourage cats to enter the River Kingdom freely. The borders were essentially open, and everyone was allowed in, as long as they were willing to cross the river.

(maybe I'll even have him pull down the tree from Riverstar's Home intentionally, happy to accept other cats into his Kingdom. Then he defends it from Skystar, specifically, but refuses to destroy what he built.)

This had allowed River Kingdom to grow large and powerful, but it also meant everyone in River Kingdom had connections to the other Clans.

Which meant there were cats supporting OTHER bids to the Throne, like the one from WindCo and the one from ThunderClan.

Smelling a way to grab power, Duststar supports his favorite heir, and Whitestar of ThunderClan also begins to stick his nose in.

Each Heir tries to run the River Kingdom, and things start to get hostile. If there's more than just the three heirs, even more of them start to get openly attacked, chased out, killed, until there's only The Chosen and The Firstblood left.

Somewhere around here, River Kingdom is invaded. Probably by the leader of SkyClan at the time, claiming that they don't even NEED an heir to take what these cats clearly don't deserve.

And that's when the internal conflict becomes a FULL-BLOWN WAR between four Clans.

In those days, the camp was at Sunningrocks, right in the middle of the river.

ThunderClan jumps in to help its "Ally" against SkyClan, just like historical precedent, but they have NO IDEA who they're fighting against, because the whole Kingdom is divided. It's not as simple as it was in DOTC anymore.

WindCo came to support its favorite heir, but its cats don't obey Duststar's orders when it comes down to fighting their own friends and family, meaning they're functionally fighting EVERYONE and losing a TON of cats

SkyClan is getting pummeled because EVERY group is pissed at them as well as each other, getting a painful awakening that they are NOT being run by Skystar the War God anymore and they're no longer the biggest, baddest bananas in the bunch

(shadowclan is watching all of this and eating popcorn. moisturized. in their lane. unbothered.)

The climax here, between The Chosen and The Firstblood, is a battle that matches the chapter from COTC. They launch at each other, in a battle to the death.

The first Sunningrocks Battle.

They both wear "crowns" on their head, one custom made for Mossfire's short-furred head, and traditional, braided into Jumpfoot's long, lush fur.

As they claw, bite, and tumble, they plunge into the river.

Fighting and hissing, they try to pull apart to rise up for air-- and can't.

They're STUCK

The crowns became tangled in their skirmish, and neither one can work with the other to bring them both to shore, against the current.

Both heirs, the last with a proper claim to the throne, drown together in the river.

At the end of the bloodbath, the tone is very somber. The rules were meant to prevent The First Battle from ever happening again... but The Second Battle had just taken place.

The body count wasn't AS high as the First Battle, but it was still a bloody loss. Every Clan lost warriors. Even ShadowClan, who hadn't even been IN the conflict, checked its ranks to find that powerful warriors had run off to go fight with their Kin.

Now they could be buried with them, too.

And now, there was no proper heir. If any descendants were still kicking around, they were refusing to take a throne that so many cats had died for. Jumpfoot and Mossfire never emerged from the River, their bodies, and their legendary crowns, were never found.

At first I'd been considering Redscar being swapped to become a RiverClan Cleric, but now I'm thinking it actually makes sense he's still from ShadowClan. ShadowClan was the ONLY neutral group-- it's reasonable for the clans to turn and request their partiality.

So, Redscar peruses the options, having followed the situation from afar.

His choice, in the end, was The Deputy. The most experienced advisor who knew Riverstar, and probably tried to stay at his adopted daughter's side as well. The closest thing they'd had to a leader all along.

(Thought: Maybe this character will be the POV. Make it like a bit of a fake-out title, you THINK Riverstar's heir is Mossfire. But it's actually been this one all along.)

He creates his famous false sign, and from there, the five groups discussed how they could prevent this from ever happening again.

They create the Law of the Deputy, commanding that ALL Clans have a single Deputy who will inherit the Clan after the leader passes away, ending dynasties in WindCo and River Kingdom and centralizing power in the other 3.

With the massive losses that WindCo and River Kingdom experienced, they also restructure, forced to accept a lot of help from ThunderClan and ShadowClan.

The borders began to close up, leading to the sentiment that would lead to Commandment 4, the Law of Loyalty, in just one more generation.

[darabeatha]

/  (source)

[incorrectbbpoblivionau]

Sorry for the small yap ya'll are about to receive but rambling in the Tumblr tags isn't enough I need to go rogue /hj

Humanity is such an interesting concept to play around with and the concept of being human is such an open concept.

Anyways, THE AO THROUGHOUT OBLIVION !!!! (plus my ocs too). They all experience some form of disconnection from feeling human when they turn into deities.

I believe loss of humanity and the transcendence to godhood is such an interesting concept and I just wanted to do something with it. Which caused this AU to come to life in a way lol ummm. Combining interests is fun.

The Awesome Brawlers are already, in a way, dehumanised. Instead of being seen as humans, they're more seen as concepts, the ideal heroes that are put onto pedestals instead of being seen as what they are, teenagers that make mistakes.

Turning them into deities drags them away from that feeling of being human even further. They have powers and forms beyond the mortal comprehension that can either cause them to be put on an even higher pedestal, or become utterly feared.

Not to mention their powers as deities can cause absolute mass destruction, one little mistake and suddenly the public is against them again. It gets to the point where they're actively questioning their humanity, losing themselves in who they truly are and what they truly mean to the people they protect.

I think this idea that they're seen nothing more than heroes, or in this case, deities, instead of something that is somewhat human is fascinating.

Shira (my oc, my beloved) is honestly the first example I think of when it comes to characters that don't entirely think they're human.

She was raised a weapon, actively trained and experimented on. For most of her life she was never seen as human and it's a strong desire she holds, to understand and grasp what it means to be human. No matter how hard she tries though, she feels she can never truly be human, never truly gain her humanity back. Not to mention becoming a deity pulls her further away from becoming human again.

Shira actively has never felt completely human and believes she will never be able to experience that humanity she lost when she was so young, again. All because fate dragged her down this wormhole. She has already had her humanity basically stripped, and the others are starting to slowly lose theirs more and more.

They're all scared of themselves and what they might become...

I am a normal person and can be trusted around fictional characters who think they aren't entirely human

[s-soulwriter]

Things Real People Do in Dialogue (For Your Next Story)

Okay, let’s be real—dialogue can make or break a scene. You want your characters to sound natural, like actual humans talking, not robots reading a script. So, how do you write dialogue that feels real without it turning into a mess of awkward pauses and “ums”? Here’s a little cheat sheet of what real people actually do when they talk (and you can totally steal these for your next story):

1. People Interrupt Each Other All the Time In real conversations, nobody waits for the perfect moment to speak. We interrupt, cut each other off, and finish each other's sentences. Throw in some overlaps or interruptions in your dialogue to make it feel more dynamic and less like a rehearsed play.

2. They Don’t Always Say What They Mean Real people are masters of dodging. They’ll say one thing but mean something totally different (hello, passive-aggressive banter). Or they’ll just avoid the question entirely. Let your characters be vague, sarcastic, or just plain evasive sometimes—it makes their conversations feel more layered.

3. People Trail Off... We don’t always finish our sentences. Sometimes we just... stop talking because we assume the other person gets what we’re trying to say. Use that in your dialogue! Let a sentence trail off into nothing. It adds realism and shows the comfort (or awkwardness) between characters.

4. Repeating Words Is Normal In real life, people repeat words when they’re excited, nervous, or trying to make a point. It’s not a sign of bad writing—it’s how we talk. Let your characters get a little repetitive now and then. It adds a rhythm to their speech that feels more genuine.

5. Fillers Are Your Friends People say "um," "uh," "like," "you know," all the time. Not every character needs to sound polished or poetic. Sprinkle in some filler words where it makes sense, especially if the character is nervous or thinking on their feet.

6. Not Everyone Speaks in Complete Sentences Sometimes, people just throw out fragments instead of complete sentences, especially when emotions are high. Short, choppy dialogue can convey tension or excitement. Instead of saying “I really think we need to talk about this,” try “We need to talk. Now.”

7. Body Language Is Part of the Conversation Real people don’t just communicate with words; they use facial expressions, gestures, and body language. When your characters are talking, think about what they’re doing—are they fidgeting? Smiling? Crossing their arms? Those little actions can add a lot of subtext to the dialogue without needing extra words.

8. Awkward Silences Are Golden People don’t talk non-stop. Sometimes, they stop mid-conversation to think, or because things just got weird. Don’t be afraid to add a beat of awkward silence, a long pause, or a meaningful look between characters. It can say more than words.

9. People Talk Over Themselves When They're Nervous When we’re anxious, we tend to talk too fast, go back to rephrase what we just said, or add unnecessary details. If your character’s nervous, let them ramble a bit or correct themselves. It’s a great way to show their internal state through dialogue.

10. Inside Jokes and Shared History Real people have history. Sometimes they reference something that happened off-page, or they share an inside joke only they get. This makes your dialogue feel lived-in and shows that your characters have a life beyond the scene. Throw in a callback to something earlier, or a joke only two characters understand.

11. No One Explains Everything People leave stuff out. We assume the person we’re talking to knows what we’re talking about, so we skip over background details. Instead of having your character explain everything for the reader’s benefit, let some things go unsaid. It’ll feel more natural—and trust your reader to keep up!

12. Characters Have Different Voices Real people don’t all talk the same way. Your characters shouldn’t either! Pay attention to their unique quirks—does one character use slang? Does another speak more formally? Maybe someone’s always cutting people off while another is super polite. Give them different voices and patterns of speech so their dialogue feels authentic to them.

13. People Change the Subject In real life, conversations don’t always stay on track. People get sidetracked, jump to random topics, or avoid certain subjects altogether. If your characters are uncomfortable or trying to dodge a question, let them awkwardly change the subject or ramble to fill the space.

14. Reactions Aren’t Always Immediate People don’t always respond right away. They pause, they think, they hesitate. Sometimes they don’t know what to say, and that delay can speak volumes. Give your characters a moment to process before they respond—it’ll make the conversation feel more natural.

Important note: Please don’t use all of these tips in one dialogue at once.

[xyywrites]

Tips for writing flawed but lovable characters.

Flawed characters are the ones we root for, cry over, and remember long after the story ends. But creating a character who’s both imperfect and likable can feel like a tightrope walk. 

1. Flaws That Stem From Their Strengths

When a character’s greatest strength is also their Achilles' heel, it creates depth.

Strength: Fiercely loyal.

Flaw: Blind to betrayal or willing to go to dangerous extremes for loved ones.

“She’d burn the whole world down to save her sister—even if it killed her.”

2. Let Their Flaws Cause Problems

Flaws should have consequences—messy, believable ones.

Flaw: Impatience.

Result: They rush into action, ruining carefully laid plans.

“I thought I could handle it myself,” he muttered, staring at the smoking wreckage. “Guess not.”

3. Show Self-Awareness—or Lack Thereof

Characters who know they’re flawed (but struggle to change) are relatable. Characters who don’t realize their flaws can create dramatic tension.

A self-aware flaw: “I know I talk too much. It’s just… silence makes me feel like I’m disappearing.” A blind spot: “What do you mean I always have to be right? I’m just better at solving problems than most people!”

4. Give Them Redeeming Traits

A mix of good and bad keeps characters balanced.

Flaw: They’re manipulative.

Redeeming Trait: They use it to protect vulnerable people.

“Yes, I lied to get him to trust me. But he would’ve died otherwise.”

Readers are more forgiving of flaws when they see the bigger picture.

5. Let Them Grow—But Slowly

Instant redemption feels cheap. Characters should stumble, fail, and backslide before they change.

Early in the story: “I don’t need anyone. I’ve got this.”

Midpoint: “Okay, fine. Maybe I could use some help. But don’t get used to it.”

End: “Thank you. For everything.”

The gradual arc makes their growth feel earned.

6. Make Them Relatable, Not Perfect

Readers connect with characters who feel human—messy emotions, bad decisions, and all.

A bad decision: Skipping their best friend’s wedding because they’re jealous of their happiness.

A messy emotion: Feeling guilty afterward but doubling down to justify their actions.

A vulnerable moment: Finally apologizing, unsure if they’ll be forgiven.

7. Use Humor as a Balancing Act

Humor softens even the most prickly characters.

Flaw: Cynicism.

Humorous side: Making snarky, self-deprecating remarks that reveal their softer side.

“Love? No thanks. I’m allergic to heartbreak—and flowers.”

8. Avoid Overdoing the Flaws

Too many flaws can make a character feel unlikable or overburdened.

Instead of: A character who’s selfish, cruel, cowardly, and rude.

Try: A character who’s selfish but occasionally shows surprising generosity.

“Don’t tell anyone I helped you. I have a reputation to maintain.”

9. Let Them Be Vulnerable

Vulnerability adds layers and makes flaws understandable.

Flaw: They’re cold and distant.

Vulnerability: They’ve been hurt before and are terrified of getting close to anyone again.

“It’s easier this way. If I don’t care about you, then you can’t leave me.”

10. Make Their Flaws Integral to the Plot

When flaws directly impact the story, they feel purposeful rather than tacked on.

Flaw: Their arrogance alienates the people they need.

Plot Impact: When their plan fails, they’re left scrambling because no one will help them.

Flawed but lovable characters are the backbone of compelling stories. They remind us that imperfection is human—and that growth is possible.

[flowersforbucky]

down bad

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.9k

author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”

“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.

“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.

“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.

“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”

“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”

“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.

“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”

“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.”

Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.

Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.

“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”

“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.

“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.

Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.

“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.

“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.

“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.

“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.

“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.

“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”

“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”

— — — — —

One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.

What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?

You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–

“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.

You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…

Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.

“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”

“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.

“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”

“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.

There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.

“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.

To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.

“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.

Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.

“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”

If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.

“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.

“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.

“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”

“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.

You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.

Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.

You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.

You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.

The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.

You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.

“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”

“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.

Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.

“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.

“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.

“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”

He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.

“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.

“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”

Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.

He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.

At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”

“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.

“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.

You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.

“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”

“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.

He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.

His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.

His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.

If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.

“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”

“I say show me the way.”

He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.

Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.

He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.

The very last door opens without a hitch.

Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.

Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.

You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.

He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.

You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.

He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.

You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.

He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.

You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.

“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.

You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.

You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -

“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”

His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.

He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.

“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.

You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.

You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.

He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.

He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.

God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…

Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.

You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.

His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.

“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.

It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.

When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.

“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”

“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.

He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.

It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.

“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”

You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.

You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”

You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.

Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.

♡♡♡♡♡

i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭

as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!

my masterlist

[sttoru]

hi!! could you write smut of sukuna w/ corruption kink x clingy reader? i need to see more of them 🤭🤭

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. smut, pwp. corruption kink. reader is described as clingy cute / innocent. voyeurism?// exhibitionism. double pénetràtion. cowgirl. cream pies. nicknames ‘slut, brat, woman’. combined 2 requests :3

it’s honestly your own fault. you’ve been sticking around sukuna the entire day, clinging onto him like he won’t let you experience the consequences of your own actions.

“eyes on me, brat,” sukuna scoffs, thumb and index roughly turning your chin back. he needs to see your face as he embarrasses you in front of the guests and other concubines standing around the throne.

you’re supposed to feel regret, yet you’re drowning in a state of pure lust. it’s the thrill that keeps your hips going, the ache in them temporarily ignored as you search for that grande moment of euphoria.

you can’t care less about the humans at the bottom of the stairs. they’re grovelling in fear of the king of curses, knowing their heads can fly off if they dare to look up at you two.

it’s a sign of disrespect—a sign that the king of curses can’t care less about what those lowlifes have come to see him for. sukuna’s doing so on purpose, using your clinginess to his advantage.

“hah, what a total slut of a concubine,” sukuna scoffs, leaning his head against one of his hands, elbow propped onto the armrest. this is a punishment for you, though it certainly does not feel like that. even if all attendants in the room can hear you fucking yourself silly on sukuna’s dicks.

you and those sloppy sounds of your two bodies connecting.

you try to hold back your moans, but a rough yank to your hair instantly opens your mouth again. your eyes roll back and your voice spews out. “mhh, my lord—‘s too much,” you whimper, however your body doesn’t stop bouncing on his cocks. sukuna responds by squeezing your middle while he watches his lengths being swallowed by your cunt and ass.

it’s funny how you’ve been reduced to a mess—a toy he can command to do whatever he pleases. your clinginess secretly pleases him, because it reassures him that you’ll do what’s asked of you. sukuna grins lazily, letting you work for it, “too much? tsk. weren’t you the one begging f’ my attention, brat?”

he does have a point. you nod mindlessly whilst his cocks drill into you—leaving no hole empty. your eyes dart to both sides of the throne, where two concubines are situated. you can see them tremble in embarrassment and envy.

sukuna’s showing you off to everyone and they don’t like it; none of the concubines do. they hate the fact that he chose you to show off to everyone else in the room. like you’re the only trophy he’s proud of.

the guests don’t dare to speak either. nor does uraume, who’s politely looking the other way as their master ravages his favorite little concubine. they’re used to his acts of exercising his power.

sukuna keeps a firm grip on your hair, threatening to pull your head back each time you dare look around you. “you have no shame. absolutely zero,” the king of curses says condescendingly. as if the humiliation of being watched isn’t enough, sukuna’s words add to the embarrassment you’re feeling, “cock hungry slut can’t go a minute without being filled, hm?”

your whimpers get louder and your pace grows faster. his fat tips hit your deepest parts over and over again, the stretch threatening to split you in half. you’re too turned on to care. the way sukuna’s staring at you with that menacing glare—his sharp nails digging into your skin so painfully . . . you need it all.

“this ‘s why you’ve been following me ‘round all day long,” sukuna grunts—one hand coming up to free your breasts from the confines of your robes, “y’ just needed to be dicked down.” the flicks against your stiff nipples make you tighten up around his cocks again and again.

you’re nearly screaming because of everything your senses are picking up on. your half lidded eyes catch a glimpse of sukuna’s cocky facial expression and you’re almost pushed over the edge. he’s so smug—knowing he has you in the palm of his hand.

his eyes are luring you in. there’s a hint of something so primal in there - a beast impatiently waiting to be unleashed - one that sukuna is trying his best to suppress.

“aren’t you just cute. . .” sukuna mocks with a dangerous chuckle. his thumb rubs your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth for you to suckle on.

“kehehe, isn’t that what those servants call you? cute.. innocent.. adorable,” he continues, faintly groaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb. sukuna cocks his head to the right and your eyes follow. that’s where you spot your maids and lady-in-waiting in a corner.

you feel tears well up in your eyes from both pleasure and humiliation. everyone is seeing and hearing you being claimed by the monster of a curse you’re riding. your maids have always adored your innocence—how you don’t seem to be tainted by sukuna’s advances no matter what. it’s a first to them.

it has been a rumor around the estate for so long; you being the only concubine who can withstand sukuna’s wicked influence. you always seem to stay yourself, your cheery and sweet personality never changing. you’ve been known as the innocent one among all other concubines.

yet here those same maids are, watching your brain being corrupted by sin. you’re so sinfully enjoying how sukuna’s cocks are penetrating you. “n-no, am—fnghh—don’t wanna,” you stammer, speaking to no one in particular. your inner desires clash with your rational mind and your body seems to continue its erotic act.

“don’t you fight it, woman,” sukuna brings your attention back by thrusting his cocks all the way up inside you, balls slapping harshly against your ass. he’s proud with his accomplishments. you’re slowly but surely being tainted by him and it’s so pleasing.

soon enough, that damned innocence of yours is going to disappear. he’s going to turn you into a total slut driven by lust, for him and only him. he’s going to ruin you and your body until all you can think of is the pleasure he can give you.

your nails dig into sukuna’s shoulders. you moan loudly, losing the battle, as expected. the king of curses just knows how to make you give in. he takes great pleasure in seeing you lose yourself, with everyone watching how he strips you from that innocence.

“stupid, nasty fuckin’ thing,” sukuna grunts as the lower pair of his arms hold you by your hips. he halts your movements before starting his own. “y’re mine, ya hear?” he pounds up into you—making you mewl. a chant of his name leaves your lips. you simply cannot stop yourself.

“yes, ‘m yours, my lord!” you moan for everyone to hear. the pink-haired man grins in satisfaction and quickly plunges his cocks in and out of your holes, needing to release himself so he could fully claim you as his in front of the rest.

his dirty cumslut, his tainted and brainless doll.

sukuna wraps all four arms around you, leaving no room for escape. he presses you against him until you’re struggling to breathe. your head is pushed against his shoulder and your insides are being turned into mush. the gooey fluids drip down onto the throne and down the floor.

“fuck. not a drop goes to waste or i’m fuckin’ ya again,” sukuna warns before shooting loads of cum into your womb and up your ass. both your holes are stuffed full of white, sticky semen mixed with your own release. you desperately clench around nothing once sukuna pulls you off his dicks.

you try to reach your hands out towards him as he manoeuvres your body away once he’s finished. the king of curses pins your wrists at your back so he can turn you around on his thighs, forcefully spreading your legs like a trophy he’s showing off on his throne.

one arm wraps around your waist and his chin rests on your right shoulder. sukuna keeps you on his lap and continues to act like he didn’t just completely wreck your insides.

while you’re left in the intense moment, he seems to have moved on already.

“speak,” sukuna orders the humans who’ve witnessed the whole ordeal. their foreheads are stuck on the floor—none of them daring to look up at the sight, like everyone else.

you’re panting and your head is spinning. you’re totally spent. sukuna holds your limp body up on his lap as one hand is busy scooping the excess cum back into your pussy, not wasting a drop like said before.

one of the villagers finally speaks up, stating the reason for their visit to the estate. their voice is muffled due to a loud buzzing in your ear. you’re tired and can’t focus on what’s said either. you just want to sleep. . . in sukuna’s warm embrace, filled and half-naked, for the entire room to see as they continue discussing business as if you’re not even there.

[saudadeko]

ADHD tips from a girlie who was diagnosed in her late twenties and has had little to no support since and is being so brave about it:

1) Make it easy, make it accessible, and make it appealing. If anything this is the most important thing, all tips going forward are based around this concept.

2) That thing you think would help you but you haven’t bought/done it yet because you’re technically surviving without it? Buy it, you need it. It doesn’t matter if people around you might think it’s wasteful or that you’re lazy, you’re not, just do it, trust me.

3) Expanding on tip #2, if you’re like me and eggs are your main source of protein because they’re quick and easy and feeding yourself is a near insurmountable task- buy yourself an electric egg cooker, make a bunch of hard boiled eggs and keep them in your fridge for quick and easy protein to add to any meal (handful of crackers, a hard boiled egg and a banana? 5 star meal right there. Or mash them up with some mayo for egg salad sandwiches). Other easy proteins include: potstickers (put them in instant ramen), edamame (they have microwaveable snack packs), chickpeas (put in salads!), beans (can of beans microwaved with shredded cheese and some tortilla chips), peanut butter (with crackers, apple and cheese, adult lunchable style), and tofu (cut into cubes, throw them into a ziplock with some seasoning and potato starch, shake that shit up and bake it until crispy).

4) Spend a little extra (if you are able) on daily use items that excite you, it will make you more likely to remember/want to do said daily task. For example: the only reason I remember to use sunscreen is because I bought some fancy japanese sunscreen that smells like roses so I get excited to use it, same for laundry detergent and body wash! there’s a gajillion different body wash scents out there, switch it up!

5) If there’s a task you continuously struggle with take a moment to think about which part of the task is making it difficult, it could be something even as small as “I don’t put my dirty clothes in the hamper because my hamper has a lid on it and lifting the lid is one step too many-”, sounds a little stupid huh? But trust your gut, it’s not stupid if it works. See tip #2 and BUY A HAMPER WITHOUT A LID.

6) If you are having trouble starting a task, break the task down further, sometimes the way I start a task is just by going “Ok step 1) stand up-“ and so forth. Don’t worry about the task as a whole just take it one step at a time.

7) If you’re halfway through a task and have to stop, leave it out. All this, “Put things away when you’re done with them.” is bullshit. you will be much more likely to finish the task if restarting it is easier because you left it out plus it’s a visual reminder. You can also create faux deadlines like “I gotta finish this project before my friend comes over on tuesday because after I finish it I can clean off the dinner table.” etc.

8) It’s okay to outsource tasks and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, humans are designed to ask for, and to require help (what do babies do when they’re first born?? cry for help!!) ask for help and receive help without shame, if it makes your life better, you are WINNING.

9) If you have one big overwhelming task that you think you need to get done before anything else, but you feel motivated to do other tasks, do those other tasks first, it’s okay. Otherwise in all likelihood (at least in my case) you’ll put everything off until the last minute and then have to do said overwhelming task and those other tasks won’t get done at all. Doing those smaller tasks also lowers the mental load and you can use them as a motivation launch pad to tackle bigger things.

10) If you notice you tend to not put something away/forget to do something, perhaps consider moving and storing the item closer to where it ultimately ends up or where you are more likely to see it. For example, my makeup, pills, and mail are all stored on my desk because that’s where I tend to do my makeup, take my pills and deal with my mail. I used to store my pills in my bathroom medicine cabinet but all too often I would forget because they weren’t in my line of sight. Now that they’re on my desk, I have multiple chances per day to pass by them, go “oh I gotta take those.” and take them.

11) Open storage, open storage, OPEN STORAGE.

12) Motivation can look like all kinds of things. sometimes the only reason I get out of bed is because I remember I have a fun snack and I get to go eat it if I get up. It’s okay to lean into those simple “animal-brain” type motivators, you’ll eat because then you can use that fun new kitchen gadget you got a daiso? Neat. you’ll shower because then you can paint your nails that fun new color you got? Fantastic. You’ll go to the dmv and do that annoying thing because you’ll take yourself out for boba after? Superb. Lean-IN to those small motivators, they aren’t stupid or childish, they are VITAL.

13) Don’t buy into the cult of “if it’s worth doing, do it properly” it’s guaranteed to set you up for failure. If it’s worth doing, do it in whatever capacity you are able to. I put sunscreen on once a day because that’s fucking better than not doing it at all and I sure as all hell will fail at reapplying it multiple times a day. If it’s worth doing, do it half-assed babieeee.

Go forth and prosper!!! xoxo ✌️🩵

[sh1-n0bu]

i have noticed a small pattern of elves being on my latest fictional character obsessions and HEAR ME OUT!!

elf who has lived for hundreds upon thousands of years, who had experienced many of the things the world has to offer. sadness of bidding hundreds of farewells to the beauty of life and alliance of different races

elf who even after all his years of living still yet to find a love for himself. regal and seemingly detached to the concepts of relationships elves may be, even they get lonely. some nights feeling a little bit too long, a little bit too cold as they add another layer of blanket over themselves or reaching over to hug one of his puffy pillows like how he would hug his future lover. the coldness of being immortal seeping into his bones and making him shiver despite elves being above the concept of getting sick or feeling the cold temperatures

elf who runs into you by some chance meeting. maybe you were walking in the territory of elves without knowing it, maybe he purposely goes to human residences and towns, seeking adventure, excitement and change of pace. who immediately is enamored by you just by your smile that you flash his way, a kind one, a gentle one, to a nearby passenger. who falls in love with the callouses of your hand, the freckles, the small scars, the little bits of imperfection that marked you as clearly human, very much mortal, very much brittle but still with your own strength that he hasn’t felt before

elf bf who starts to court you the moment he realizes that you weren’t seeing anyone, bringing small gifts, exchanging knowledge, singing you soft ancient lullabies that no other mortal has ever heard before. maybe he finds himself writing a poem about you one day, describing your looks, your feelings, your everyday actions that you may see as mundane but ones he sees as just as courageous and beautiful in their own ways

elf bf who has never seen human flesh or bare skin before, finding the rippling biceps and toned legs of yours to be… curious. a tentative finger touching the muscles here and there, stopping you mid work as he inquires about them in a soft tone. elves of course were magical beings, blessed with magic and eternity and had no need to develop visible physical muscles till the point they become buff or beefy to some extent all due to their magic and ancient powers. the tips of his pointy ear twitching softly, eyes wide in wonder as you explain that contrary to his kin, your own develop muscles if they are put to work in physically demanding job for enough time

elf bf who over time, finds himself obsessively scribbling down any sort of new information about human anatomy on a journal, always asking you new things as he finds himself able to learn more despite having been alive for hundreds upon thousands of years. tracing the old faded scars on your body with the tip of his finger, counting the freckles, kissing the stretch marks as they were all you. regardless of how you see it, to him it was all you, together and healthy. you were alive even if you may have battle scars and he always makes sure to thank the stars as it was thanks to the tribulations you have conquered that you two were here now. staring eye to eye, touching your foreheads together as you whisper about mundane things

elf bf who one day sees you cut down a tree, cut a log off or prepare firewood and finds that he was imagining the bulge of your muscles against himself. big arms caging him in a bear hug, legs to support him and strong back that he could sink his nails into as he moans under you— hold. since when has his thoughts of you turned… impure? since when has he become turned on? sitting there on one of the logs with a painful strain against his pants as he swallowed the saliva that gathered in his jaw down, tearing his gaze away. no no, he really shouldn’t think of you as such, you were still in courting phase after all and elves were a race that took their romances and courting extremely important

yet regardless of his kin’s customs and traditions, your pretty elf bf couldn’t help but continue to stare. his gaze constantly seeking your figure out, seeing you just go through the motions of every life peacefully while he gets pathetically turned on by your actions as if he was still but a fledgling who learned of a kiss. chopping down trees for firewood, maybe you would work in front of a fire or heat for too long and get sweaty, removing one of the overtunics. maybe you’re just simply dragging a bucket full of water from the well, cranking the pulley as the muscles on your arms and back strained

elf bf who finds himself extremely aroused as his mind wanders to the gutters as he just shamelessly stares at your working form. oh, to feel those calloused hands touch his colder skin, palms smoothening over his creamy skin, and down his chest, his stomach and over his bulge. maybe you would tease the poor thing, tease him of how quick he is to get aroused, the pre of his half-hard cock weeping through his underwear and pants like he was some sore pathetic loser. a little virgin. bully him about being unable to use his cock, make him whine at your mean words as his hips weakly buckle under your exploratory hands

elf bf who couldn’t help but imagine the usual sweetness of your attitude gone, replaced by one that was just a tad bit meaner as you pushes his face down into the pillows of your bed, force his hands to stretch open his puckering hole for you to fuck senselessly. imagining you whispering all sorts of filth into his twitching ears, promising to breed him full, to use him to your heart’s content all night long as he whines and squeals like a little lamb caught in the nest of a hungry wolf. who couldn’t swallow down the quiet whimper coming from his throat as he imagined your hand grasping at his long locks, fisting it tightly as you yank him back, forcing him to arch his back and push the tip of your cock to bruise his guts even more

elf bf who waves off your worry when you had managed to hear the embarrassing noise that slipped past his lips, saying that he was having a bit of a sore throat. gods, he would love to actually whimper from having a sore throat of getting his mouth plowed all day by your fat cock head forcing his jaws wiiideee open

elf bf who couldn’t help but get a little needy in his kisses since then. hands that touched your muscles with curiosity now running over your skin as if trying to feebly seduce you. dropping things to the ground a bit too many times, following you close behind even as you told him that some of the work you needed to do required space and for him to be away for his own safety. who straddles your lap all snug, pushing his chest flush against your own as your simply daily evening kisses after dinner becomes a bit too heated. he definitely had little to no experience with the way his tongue kept licking at your lips meagerly, long fingers curling over your shoulders tightly while his bucking hips on your lap as he starts to get hard again

elf bf who has finally had enough of just his meager imaginations, tugging on the strings of your white tunic with shaky hands as he rambles about touching you, you touching him, feeling him, using him — anything dammit! use those hands of yours on him!

elf bf who soon realizes that he had perhaps bitten off more than he could chew when your hands grip at his hips, dragging his clothed cock against your thigh that had him whining like a cat in heat. meagerly, he tries to replicate what you just made him do, dragging his hips back and forth on your thigh but he all but just looks like an inexperienced bunny. which he probably was judging by the things he spoke to you about himself

elf bf who finds so much pleasure in simply grinding against your thigh for now, the precum of his now hard cock weeping through his pants, staining it into a darker color. all cute and red in the face that spread to his pointy ears, cute high pitched whines falling from his chewed up pink lips. a cute, surprised “a-aahn♡︎??” echoing in the room as you pull his eager body against your own. your chest to his back, hands loosely draped over the hip bone of his

elf bf who lets out the most embarrassing high pitched squeals when your hands travel up his body under his clothes, traveling more and more until teasing at his nipples. rolling your fingertips against the soft areola, squeezing and fondling his pecks as if they were breasts. who jolts in place when you pinch at the hardened buds, tugging at them to test the waters as he arches his back off of your chest, a filthy mewl falling as if he was being fucked stupid already

elf bf who blubbers out uncharacteristic words of “s-shensiitiivgh♡︎ n-no, don’t pinch the-eeengk♡︎♡︎!“ his pleads of your rough hands not torturing his sensitive nipples being replaced with an open mouthed wail when you place a kiss to the pointy tip of his ear. his ears were so sensitive! you knew that and now you were just being downright mean to him as you whisper filth into his ears of acting like a cooped up virgin for merely getting his chest played with. he wasn’t! he was way older than you! slurring out “how c-could you be sooh m-meanngk…♡︎?” as you lick a slow stripe up the pointy helix

elf bf who bucks his hips on your thigh, trying to bounce, trying to move away but ending up whining as his clothed cock grazes against your hardened muscles again. his cute nipples being tortured and groped by your hands, the delicate helix of his ears being assaulted by your wet kisses and licks. any time your hot breath spoke into his ears of how he was such a precious little thing, just like a bunny in heat, he would try to wiggle away. shaking his head with a weak sniffle, his mind churning into a mush as all he could do was to pathetically fuck his cock into your thigh, letting out a soft mewl everytime you buck your leg up to meet his shy excuse of thrusts, jumping in place

elf bf whose minds and body starts to feel weird. the room feeling stifling and your touch making his own skin heat up too much. who tries to tell you that he was feeling ‘odd’ and concerned, yet only to harshly thrust his hips back into your own arousal. eyes widening, a shudder running down his spine at the feeling. still clothed and hidden like his own but good grief, it just felt… so huge since he was sure your human dick couldn’t possibly be much bigger than his own. but no, it got him gulping down the saliva in his mouth

elf bf who bounces himself experimentally onto your own hardened, covered dick, feeling his balls brush against where he guesses is the tip of your strap. his earlier cute whines growing in volume as your torture of his sensitive spots grow worse, groping, squeezing, calling him too eager to get fucked, making him dumb and airheaded. the constant tugs to his chest, the words you spat into his mind so lovingly and the small actions of your hips thrusting up to meet his own weaker excuse of grinding

elf bf who’s voice grow more and more breathier, who finally loses it as he throws himself back against your chest, his head on your shoulder as he let out a wail of “h-hoowt!! t-too ahgg♡︎ haah anhg t-too hoounwt...♥︎!” as he cums into his pants, dirtying the material as a single glob or two of his sweet transparent arousal oozes out through the linen. the dark patch growing into a considerable size, his body racked with twitches and jolts as he cums untouched on your lap. precious little thing getting drunk on the feeling of sex and physical pleasure so much till the point he disregards all of his traditions, bending himself over onto the bed, his hand reaching back to tug you forward by the belt with a desperate whine and a cute blown wide pupils and twitching ears♡︎

⇨ meludir, lindir, legolas, maglor, mairon + whoever you like

[jupiterpilgrim]

Sex Cage: Fame, Fun and Fire

Kwon Eunbi x Yujin x Male Reader

word count: 8.5K

part 1//part 2

You and Eunbi are seated side by side at the mall food court, each of you carrying a look of shared anxiety. Around you, the crowd is a tangled mess of shopping bags, kids running around, and people who’ve clearly never heard of headphones. But the noise outside is nothing compared to the storm within.

"So... are you nervous?" Eunbi nudges you, a teasing smile on her lips, trying to ease both your tension and her own.

"Just a little," you admit.

"Look, babe, you need to get used to this stuff. She’s just a girl."

"Not just any girl," you retort, frowning. "It's Yujin."

Eunbi shrugs, as casual as if meeting one of the biggest content creators of the moment were just another ordinary day. "So, she’s famous—big deal. She still puts on her pants one leg at a time, just like us." She looks at you, something warm and affectionate in her eyes. "Seriously, love, when she gets here, you’ll see. It'll be like talking to anyone else."

As if the universe had a particularly cynical sense of humor, a voice chimes in from behind you.

"Found you!"

You both turn your heads so fast you might win an Olympic medal in synchronized movements. And there she is—Yujin, in person, flesh and blood. Taller than you imagined, with an aura that seems to light up the entire food court. She’s dressed casually, a loose black knit sweater with a basic white tank barely visible underneath, and frayed denim shorts that add a laid-back vibe, matched with a studded belt. Sunglasses complete the look.

The brightness of her smile shatters any notion of “just a girl” into tiny, irrelevant pieces.

“Hi... hi!” Eunbi finally stands, throwing herself into a hug with Yujin, desperately trying to keep her composure. You’re still stuck on the bench, trying to convince yourself she didn’t just step out of a fashion editorial.

Yujin steps back from Eunbi and looks at you, a smile that, if you weren’t petrified, you’d swear had a hint of complicity. "And you, aren’t you coming?" She opens her arms, waiting.

You stand, trying not to look like a complete idiot, and she pulls you into a casual hug that, in your head, lasts an eternity. “I was super excited to meet you both,” she says, pulling away and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Eunbi, trying her hardest to act natural, replies, “We were too. You’re even prettier in person, honestly.”

Yujin lets out a lighthearted laugh. “Oh, thanks, but look who’s talking. You’re so much more stunning in real life, too.”

Eunbi glances away, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “Well, I... thank you,” she stammers, unable to hold back a smile.

Yujin removes her sunglasses and glances at you, a curious expression on her face. “And you, honey, are cute too,” she says with a hint of amusement, “but you look a bit tense. Nervous?”

"I... it’s just... it’s my first time doing this," you admit, trying to play it cool. You laugh, but it’s that kind of laugh that gives away every attempt at looking natural.

"Relax. Soon enough, we’ll all be close. Want a decent coffee? I think we have a long day ahead."

Yujin leads the way to a quieter café, and you and Eunbi exchange a look—a mix of awe and satisfaction—as you follow her.

After all, it’s just another day.

Except it's not.

—

The café is an unlikely refuge in the middle of the mall chaos. Unlike the food court, the lighting here is softer, as if the designers decided people spend more if they feel mysteriously cozy. Yujin, of course, looks perfectly at ease.

You place your orders at the counter—a cappuccino for her, an extravagant frappuccino for Eunbi, and a black coffee for you, because someone here had to add a touch of seriousness. With drinks in hand, the three of you find a table by the window, where you can watch the hurried tide of shoppers on the other side of the glass, as if observing a documentary on human behavior in its natural habitat.

Once you’re settled, Yujin turns to you both, firing off, “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you’d accept the offer. It took you a while to reply.”

You and Eunbi share one of those telepathic glances that only develop after years together. “We were... going through some stuff at the time,” Eunbi answers, a bit awkwardly, as if trying to give a short answer to a question that deserves a thesis.

“Ah, I get it,” Yujin says, with a smile that makes it clear she really does. “Relationships, huh? They always have their ups and downs.”

For a brief second, you and Eunbi glance at each other again, like two students caught off guard by a question in the middle of class. Explaining that, back in the anonymous video days, you were just friends feels like an odyssey no one wants to start. So you simply say nothing. Silence, after all, is one of the most efficient forms of communication.

Unfazed, Yujin continues, as if she has the supernatural gift of skipping over the complicated parts. “So how’s it been, now that you’re not anonymous anymore?”

“Funny,” Eunbi begins. “The first few weeks were... strange. I was afraid to go out, like, what if someone recognized me? But then I realized the world out there is a lot bigger than the view count on my screen.”

“Oh, the ego hates this part,” Yujin comments, with a smile you’d classify as experienced. “But don’t worry. The worst that can happen is someone asking for a photo.”

She tilts her head, her eyes roaming over the two of you. “And your families? How did they react?”

You clear your throat, searching for the words. “Well, only my family knows. Eunbi’s parents... haven’t found out yet, apparently. In fact, not even our friends found out. You know, it's not something you reveal with much enthusiasm. But eventually they'll get to the truth."

“Really? Well, I hope everything goes well when they find out,” Yujin says.

“My family didn’t take it too well at first, and maybe the fact that I revealed this to them when I was drunk contributed to that,” you admit, exhaling like you’re shedding a weight. “We ended up taking a... break for a while, you know? But eventually, they called, and we were able to talk without drama. In the end, they came around.”

Yujin lets out a laugh, this time a bit more bitter. “Parents, huh? Mine didn’t accept it at all. But honestly? I was never a big fan of them anyway. These days, we kind of... don’t talk anymore.” She shrugs, as if it were a small thing and not a complete family break. “Sad, isn’t it? But that’s life.”

And then, right on cue, the drinks arrive. The waitress sets the cups down with clockwork precision, and Yujin holds her cappuccino as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to keep discussing family breakdowns while savoring milk foam.

You stare at the foam on your black coffee, maybe as a symbolic attempt to glimpse into the future. “And you... do you regret this choice?”

“Me?” Yujin raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Not at all. Today, I have my own life, I live super well, and freedom is priceless. By the way, what about you two? Any regrets?”

Eunbi shrugs, leaning over to grab her frappuccino. “Not yet,” she answers, looking at you for a moment as if seeking confirmation.

“Same here,” you add. “So far, nothing’s really gone wrong. I quit my old job and now I have more free time to spend with my girlfriend, helping her with her business. But I confess that sometimes I find myself having some doubts about the future."

“Don’t overthink it. As long as you two have each other, you’ll get through any challenge.” She says it like someone who’s navigated a fair share of rough waters and lived to tell the tale.

You and Eunbi share another look, and this time the smile you exchange feels like a silent pact, an okay, we can do this.

Yujin continues with a casual prophecy. “Oh, and one more thing. This will also become your new normal. In five years, you might not even remember what the old life was like.”

Eunbi tilts her head, pretending innocence. “And is that a good thing?”

“Oh, it’s very good,” Yujin replies, with a smile half genuine, half enigmatic. She takes a sip of her cappuccino, seeming to savor every drop, as if drinking directly from a magic potion. “Freedom can be a little... lonely at times. But honestly? It’s the best thing there is.”

You and Eunbi absorb this in silence, but it’s not a silence that lasts long, as the café door almost trembles when a group of girls enter, spotting Yujin. In an instant, the carefully cultivated tranquility of the café goes right out the window.

“OH MY GOD, YUJIN!” one of them yells with the intensity of someone spotting Beyoncé. The entire café turns to look as you and Eunbi shrink in surprise. But Yujin only flashes that smile she’s probably practiced in the mirror just for moments like this.

She gives a small wave, like a queen in her royal chamber, and the girls rush over, each with eyes sparkling with admiration and a genuine urgency, as if they’re reporters interviewing a celebrity on the red carpet.

“I’m your biggest fan!” exclaims the first one, staring at Yujin like she’s the last source of water in a desert. “I watch all your streams on Twitch. I mean, EVERY one. Even that stream that crashed because of your cat. That part was iconic.”

Yujin laughs, nodding. “Ah, yes. He always thinks the keyboard is the best bed in the house.”

The second girl practically jumps with excitement. “You’re like my fashion muse! I copied that blue hair you had a few months ago, you know? But the blue washed out after like three washes. Any tricks?”

“Sure. First, get a good toner. Then say a couple of Hail Marys. Works every time.”

The third seems almost breathless with adrenaline, as if she’s been preparing her whole life for this moment. “Seriously, you’re everything to me! I even follow your playlist on Spotify. Like, I’m OBSESSED with your workout playlist.”

Yujin, now visibly flattered, raises an eyebrow. “Ah, the workout playlist… a classic.” She turns to you and Eunbi, as if wanting to share a private joke. “It has a certain vibe, you know? Who knew ‘Dancing Queen’ could be so motivating for leg presses?”

Then one of the girls pulls out her phone, eyes alight with hope. “Can we take a picture with you, Yujin? And maybe you could say ‘hi’ on Stories? Just to prove this surreal moment actually happened.”

Yujin nods like a patient teacher. “Of course, let’s do it! Who wants to be first?”

It’s chaos.

Each of them takes a selfie from a carefully studied angle, as if taking an X-ray, and Yujin smiles serenely in all of them, saintly calm. She says a quick “hi, everyone, I’m here at the café with these beauties!” on one girl’s Stories, while the girl herself looks ready to faint from sheer emotion.

Between selfies, one fan glances over at Eunbi, her eyes widening. “Wait… aren’t you Rubydden? Oh my God, I've seen some of your photos on Instagram! You’re so beautiful, seriously!”

Eunbi gives a bashful yet proud smile. “Oh, yeah, that’s me. And this is my boyfriend…”

“Is he also an influencer?”

“Well, in a way... yes,” Eunbi replies.

Another one elbows her friend, not-so-quietly whispering, “Hey guys, now there are three famous influencers here! This café’s getting a five-star Google upgrade today!”

Yujin, clearly amused, wraps up the photos and casually comments, “You girls are amazing. Really. But now let me drink my cappuccino before it turns into iced coffee.”

The girls laugh, enchanted by how Yujin effortlessly combines a hint of farewell without losing any charm. They gradually back away, waving and sending another wave of compliments, promises to keep following everything she does, and even a lone “I love you” from the back of the group.

Once they’re gone, Eunbi turns to Yujin, looking fascinated, almost incredulous. “Does… does this happen to you a lot?”

“Depends on the day,” Yujin replies, picking up her cup and taking a casual sip, as if fans were a weather phenomenon she’s learned to predict. “But lately, I’ve been seeing more girls following me. Ever since I started making content beyond, you know, just porn.”

Eunbi snaps her fingers, like she’s had an idea. “Hey, Yujin… do you think I should start streaming on Twitch too?”

Yujin looks at her over the rim of her cup, like she’s evaluating a new piece of furniture. “Should you? Eunbi, that’s not even a question. It’s practically your duty! And I say that with no pressure, of course.” She smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that makes it clear the decision is practically made.

“Besides, you already have everything. You’re charming, fun, and just mysterious enough to keep the audience hooked.”

Eunbi laughs, but you can see the idea starting to appeal to her. She turns to you. “Do you think I should try it?”

“Definitely,” you reply. “And if you need, I can handle all the tech stuff. I can even set up notifications that scream ‘let’s fucking go’ every time someone subscribes.”

Yujin laughs, nodding, and takes another sip of her coffee. “That’s it! People love that kind of silly stuff! Oh, and another thing, Eunbi: Twitch could be a gateway to other types of content. You can show you’re a whole person, you know? Talk about whatever you want. Books, music, I don’t know, the best kind of tea—anything that makes people see you’re more than a pretty face and a name. It’s marketing, it’s fun, and honestly, it’ll protect you a bit from objectification. They won’t just see ‘Eunbi, the hot girl from OnlyFans,’ but ‘Eunbi, the one who chats about everything for an hour and makes it interesting.’”

Eunbi blinks, surprised. “Does that actually work?”

“More than you think,” Yujin responds with a mysterious smile. “And, over time, you won’t even need to explain you’re more than what they see. They’ll already know.”

“So… that’s it,” Eunbi says, looking at you with an expression that’s part excitement, part slight fear. “Get ready, you’ll have a lot of work helping me set things up.”

Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s going to be great, sweetheart. And we’ll definitely do some streams together. We’ll break the platform.”

You look at Yujin, a thought bubbling up in your mind. “So, Yujin,” you start, as if about to ask the secret of the universe, “since we’re talking about this spotlight thing… Who’s the most famous adult content creator you’ve ever met?”

Yujin doesn’t hesitate for a second. Her eyes light up, and her smile widens like someone about to recount a legend.

“Karina.”

The word comes out with an almost tangible reverence, and both you and Eunbi lean in slightly closer, as if pulled by a collective magnet of admiration.

“Karina?” Eunbi repeats, curiosity shimmering in every syllable.

Yujin nods, with that distant look of someone who’s seen the Mona Lisa or the Taj Mahal up close on a sunny afternoon. “Karina isn’t just famous. She’s, like... an entity. Tall, graceful, perfect hair and skin, a flawless body, and a sense of style that could make anyone feel like a shabby peasant just by existing in the same room.”

“Hmm, I see. So… she’s pretty?” you ask, choosing the simplest word so it’s not too obvious that you already know who she is.

Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “Pretty? Honey, pretty doesn’t even come close. She’s stunning. Impeccable. The kind of person you look at and think, ‘Will my mom forgive me if I drop everything to devote myself to this woman?’”

Eunbi lets out a small laugh, but it’s clear she’s just as fascinated. “And she’s actually nice to talk to and all?”

“Oh, absolutely. You’d expect someone like her to be arrogant, right? But Karina is sweet, kind. When she speaks, it feels like she’s dedicating all her attention to you. She makes you feel like the most interesting person in the world.” Yujin sighs, as if reliving a pleasant dream. “She’s polite with everyone, never makes anyone feel uncomfortable. It’s almost surreal.”

“Wow, she sounds like a myth.” Eunbi sighs.

“Almost, yeah,” Yujin admits, leaning back. “She’s a woman of class, you know? If I were to describe her... She’s like an old Hollywood movie star, but... updated for the internet age.”

Eunbi’s gaze slowly slides over to you, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And you, babe, have you heard of this goddess?”

You clear your throat, trying to keep your composure, but your mind feels like it’s racing to avoid the tricky questions that are clearly coming. “Well... maybe I’ve heard of her... once or twice... around... on the internet.”

Eunbi raises an eyebrow, a smile beginning to form. “Once or twice, huh?”

Yujin doesn’t miss a beat, her gaze sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I’m sure he knows exactly who I’m talking about!”

“I really don’t know if I know her,” you reply, with the conviction of someone trying to dodge an unfair accusation.

Yujin laughs out loud, shaking her head. “Oh, come on. Everyone’s seen at least one of her videos. She’s practically a cultural landmark. Like... like watching The Godfather or something.”

“I’m not ‘everyone,’” you insist, trying to maintain some dignity.

But Eunbi and Yujin exchange glances and burst into a shared laugh, clearly amused at your expense. “Of course not,” Eunbi says, pretending an exaggerated innocence, while Yujin nods as if fully agreeing.

“Right,” Yujin says, with a wink. “You’re totally immune to that sort of thing, for sure.”

“Okay, okay, but does she only do videos or... anything else?” you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.

“Well,” Yujin begins, “She’s also an escort. And, well... they say her rates are higher than the national debt of a small country. But she’s worth every cent—at least, that’s what those who’ve paid say.”

Eunbi scrunches her nose, as if trying to imagine the price and eventually giving up on the math. “So, basically, she’s perfect. Like... the adult version of Barbie?”

“An adult Barbie mixed with the Mona Lisa and a dash of Cleopatra,” Yujin says, gesturing dramatically, as if her hands could illustrate such divinity. “But seriously, I loved chatting with her. Really. We met at a party in Dubai, it was an incredible night, I even got nervous when I saw her, but she was so sweet and patient with me that I almost felt like her close friend.”

Eunbi and you look at each other, sharing a mixture of disbelief and fascination.

“She sounds almost unreal,” you finally say, still trying to process the idea.

Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “She is. And the best part? She knows it. But unlike many, she doesn’t put on a show. She just... exists. And somehow, that’s more impressive than anything she could try to be.”

—

The apartment is bathed in the radiant light of early afternoon as you and Eunbi enter with Yujin, trying—unsuccessfully—to hide your nervousness under a casual façade. Yujin glances around, inspecting the space.

“Wow, what a cozy place,” she remarks. “Seems perfect for a young couple. But who knows, maybe you’ll, say, be able to expand things in the future, huh?”

Eunbi, smiling with a mixture of pride and discomfort, says, “Make yourself at home,” not quite sure what "at home" might mean for someone like Yujin.

“Oh, I will,” Yujin responds, her tone so suggestive that you and Eunbi exchange a shared, nervous glance, caught between laughter and cold sweats. Yujin then casts an investigative look around the room before dropping the question. “Can I see where you two film?”

“Of course!” Eunbi replies, excited. You both lead her down the hallway to Eunbi’s former room, still decorated with vibrant trinkets and stuffed animals. Eunbi explains with a shy smile, “Since we started dating, I moved into his room—it’s bigger. So this one became the studio.”

"You guys were living together before you were dating? That's wild!"

"We were actually roommates and best friends," Eunbi says.

"Oh, I get it! In that case, it's a really cute thing." Yujin examines the space with curiosity, nodding in approval. “Ah, the room I see in the videos,” she says, as if she’s stumbled upon the place where the Great Mystery unfolds. After a moment, she looks at Eunbi with a playful smile. “By the way, can I borrow one of your lingerie sets, princess?”

You blink, confused, and the question slips out before you can think: “Are… we filming now?”

Yujin raises an eyebrow and laughs, as if she’s dealing with a child asking why the sky is blue. “Yes, darling. I have a flight later for a podcast appearance,” she says, patient, as if this were a common part of anyone’s day.

You’re still processing the suddenness of it all when you manage to ask, “What podcast?”

“Sana’s podcast. You haven’t been on it yet, right?”

You and Eunbi look at each other, both trying to imagine the possibility, but Eunbi shakes her head, amused. “Not yet.”

“Oh, but I’ll make a recommendation,” Yujin replies with a wink, like a mischievous fairy godmother ready to pull a few invisible strings. “Sana is amazing. Hilarious, and she was one of the first to give us, adult creators, a place to speak, to give our opinions and combat insults. You guys should go. So many girls only got their break thanks to her support. She’s going to love you, I’m sure.”

Eunbi, now more excited than ever, responds, “Wow, it’d be amazing to do an episode with her.”

Yujin smiles like she’s just made a promise to fate itself. “I’ll make it happen,” she says, giving Eunbi a look. Then, with a casual gesture, she motions to you, as if giving a gentle hint.

“Now, sweetheart… could you give us a moment to get ready?” Yujin asks, more informing you than really asking, with a hint of gentle dismissal.

You feel your face warm, realizing this is your cue to step out. “Oh, sure. I… I’ll wait in the living room,” you reply, trying to seem more confident than you feel.

She closes the door with a cheerful “See you in a minute!” and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

—

Inside the bedroom-turned-improvised studio, Eunbi and Yujin glance at each other in the mirror, half-studying, half-laughing like two friends conspiring over some obscure secret—or in their case, a rather peculiar shoot. Eunbi gestures toward the closet with a kind of solemnity, inviting Yujin. “Go on, pick a lingerie set. There’s lots of colors. And styles,” she says, almost like she’s offering a valuable gem.

Yujin, without hesitation, slips off her bra and underwear, moving around the room with the confidence of someone, well, perfectly at ease with their own body. She picks up a blue lingerie set and holds it up, examining it with an almost scientific gaze. “Think it’ll look good?”

“It’ll look gorgeous,” Eunbi replies, already picking a pink set and undressing, letting her clothes drop casually to the floor. It’s funny how the situation feels both natural and tinged with a certain strangeness.

As she slides the lingerie on, Yujin glances at Eunbi from the corner of her eye. “You’re lucky, you know? Having a boyfriend who supports you in this kind of work… that’s rare.”

Eunbi nods, adjusting the strap of her bra. “He’s really supportive. He’s part of everything with me,” she says, smiling a little bashfully, which Yujin notices.

“A rare man,” Yujin remarks, looking at Eunbi for a moment, now that they’re both in just lingerie. “Most guys panic at the idea of their girlfriend doing this sort of thing.”

She pauses, her gaze quickly tracing over Eunbi. “By the way, let me just say—you look stunning like this, you know?”

Eunbi, surprised and a little shy, laughs and murmurs a “thank you,” adjusting her lingerie with a slight blush. Then, curious, she asks, “Have you ever dated anyone since you started creating adult content?”

Yujin lets out a sound that’s almost a laugh, tinged with a bit of irony. “I tried.I've met a few guys who seemed promising at first, but none of them were looking for a committed relationship. Not with me, at least. My last boyfriend broke up with me when I started filming porn videos. Preferred a life without, well, international popularity.”

“Oh…” Eunbi makes a sympathetic face. “And you were okay with that?”

“Better this way,” Yujin shrugs, almost indifferent. “These days, I sleep with lots of amazing guys and girls. Life goes on just fine, thanks.” She adjusts her lingerie, looking in the mirror with a critical yet satisfied gaze. “Oh, help me with the clasp back here?”

Eunbi steps closer to fix the clasp, still laughing at the comment, then asks with genuine curiosity, “Do you ever think about stopping one day?”

Yujin gives a conspiratorial wink. “When I’m a millionaire, absolutely.”

Eunbi raises her eyebrows. “Really? And is that close to happening?”

Yujin looks at her in the mirror, a smile spreading. “Closer than you’d think, darling.”

She finishes adjusting the lingerie and checks herself in the mirror, turning slightly to see how it fits. “So, how does it look?”

“Beautiful. Sensational. Sexy, even,” Eunbi replies, with a sincerity that’s almost playful.

The compliment comes back quickly: “And you look like a goddess, darling. God, I’d give anything to have those glorious breasts,” she sighs, with a dramatic touch of envy. “But, now, a serious question,” Yujin continues, looking directly at Eunbi. “Are you sure you’re not going to feel jealous during the filming?”

The question makes Eunbi give a nervous laugh, hesitating before answering. “No, no… it’s fine. We know it’s just work.”

But Yujin looks at her intently, as if she wants to be sure Eunbi really understands. “This is purely professional, Eunbi. He’s your boyfriend. Nothing’s going to change. When the camera’s off, everything goes back to normal, I promise.”

Eunbi sighs and admits, laughing a little. “Well… maybe part of me will feel a bit jealous, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Trust me, after the first time, you’ll get used to it,” she says, moving closer, looking at Eunbi with that same piercing gaze. Then, in a softer tone, she says, “You know what’ll help?”

“What?”

Yujin pauses for dramatic effect.

“Kiss me.”

Eunbi freezes, eyes wide as Yujin leans in slowly, a half-smile playing on her lips, savoring Eunbi’s surprise. “Relax, it’s just a kiss,” Yujin murmurs, her tone a mix of tease and tenderness. She waits for a response, but Eunbi just stays there, eyes fixed on Yujin’s lips, the gloss catching the light in a temptation too hard to resist.

Then, as if her body decides before her mind, Eunbi closes her eyes and lets herself be drawn in. Yujin’s lips touch hers softly, making her exhale as if the air suddenly got heavier. At first, it’s a tentative kiss, almost testing boundaries—a gentle brush, the taste of sweet strawberry filling Eunbi’s senses. But soon Yujin becomes firmer, tilting her head to deepen the kiss with a confidence only someone assured could manage.

Eunbi feels a hand slide slowly to her neck, fingers weaving into her hair, pulling her closer, and Yujin’s whole body aligns, pressing against her. “Breathe,” Yujin whispers against her lips, not pulling away, as if she’s guiding Eunbi to let go, to let control slip through her fingertips.

Eunbi releases a small sigh, something caught between nervousness and pure desire, her fingers trembling slightly as she holds Yujin by the waist, clutching there as if grounding herself. The taste of gloss, the soft scent of Yujin’s perfume, now so near, surround her, melding together and holding Eunbi captive, like a slow melody.

Yujin pulls away slowly, but not far, their faces still close enough for Eunbi to feel her warm breath. With that same mix of playful and affectionate smile, Yujin looks directly into Eunbi’s eyes, her fingers resting gently on the back of her neck. “See?” she murmurs, voice low and firm, almost like a secret. “The ice is broken now.”

Her thumb drifts to the corner of Eunbi’s mouth, where the gloss still glistens, brushing as if she’s wiping away the last trace of the kiss, and lets out a soft, satisfied chuckle. “No more tension, no more nerves. Now you know you can trust me.”

Eunbi just smiles back, heart racing, “I do trust you,” she replies, “and I’m ready to start.”

—

You’re stretched out on the couch, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone when a gentle voice breaks the quiet. You look up to find Eunbi and Yujin standing side by side, hands intertwined. They’re draped in fine lingerie that highlights each curve, every detail crafted to allure. Eunbi’s pink lace against Yujin’s cool blue creates a sight so captivating you’re left speechless.

Eunbi tilts her head with a small, teasing smile. “Well, we’re ready. Just waiting on you.” She winks.

Yujin leans closer, one brow raised, a grin on her lips. “Are you going to sit there all night or join us?” she teases, her tone light but authoritative. Turning to Eunbi, she wraps her arms around her neck, and they exchange a conspiratorial glance before laughing softly together.

You get up, trying to keep your cool as you follow them to the bedroom. Every detail set, an intimate little scene for just the three of you.

Inside the room, Yujin doesn’t waste a second. She watches you intently, her gaze that of a seasoned expert, and then commands, “Alright, just strip down.”

You hesitate, glancing at Eunbi for reassurance. She nods calmly, a soft encouragement. “Come on, babe. Just another video,” she murmurs, voice gentle but filled with affection.

One by one, you peel off each piece, stopping at your underwear. At this point, Yujin decides to break the mounting tension. She lets out a soft laugh, looks at Eunbi, and says, “Let’s just cut to the chase.”

Turning to you with a bold gleam in her eye, she says, “Excuse me, but I’m going to kiss your boyfriend.”

The air thickens, feeling both heavier and lighter, like some invisible barrier is about to come down. As it should. Yujin steps toward you, each movement filled with confidence, her eyes trailing over you, taking in every detail with a gleam that’s both professional and undeniably challenging.

She stops just inches away, her eyes glinting with intensity, a look that combines business with something raw and thrilling. “Are you ready, or do we need to spend all night convincing you?” Her head tilts, a smirk tugging at her lips, as she lifts a hand to your side, guiding it slowly to her waist.

Just a few steps away, Eunbi adjusts the camera on its tripod, trying to hide the flush in her cheeks as she focuses the lens, aligning the angle carefully. “Just so you know, I’m finding this hilarious,” she says with a smile, though her tone carries an undercurrent of affection and maybe a touch of possessiveness. She leans over to check the focus, her gaze briefly meeting yours before she looks back at the screen. “Better enjoy it… before I change my mind.” Her playful tone barely masks the blush spreading across her face.

Yujin chuckles, seeming to catch her drift. “Don’t worry, Eunbi—I’ll take good care of your boyfriend,” she says, her gaze never leaving yours. And without another word, she slides her hands to your neck, pulling you closer. Her lips meet yours, the kiss starting soft, giving you a moment to settle into the feeling, the sensation, before her fingers dive deeper, slipping along the nape of your neck, as though pulling you even closer.

Your hand moves almost on its own, resting on her waist, where the soft skin meets the lace. Your fingers drift up her back, and the kiss grows bolder, both of you falling into an easy rhythm. There’s a charged energy there, a delicate balance of nerves and a shared sense of release.

In one smooth movement, Yujin’s hand slides down your side to your waistband. She presses against the fabric, feeling the hardness beneath, a playful smile curling on her lips as she kisses you. She applies a bit more pressure, gauging your reaction. You feel warmth spread over every muscle, a pulse of nerves mixed with expectation.

“Oh, so this is how you respond,” she whispers, her lips brushing yours, voice barely more than a breath. Her hand tightens, confidence clear in her touch.

Eunbi, now finished setting up the camera (it's new, now your recordings will be in 4k), watches from a short distance, arms crossed, feigning impatience. “Alright, Yujin, I think that’s enough.”

Yujin steals one last kiss before pulling back, smirking. “Alright, Miss Eunbi, all done here.”

“Perfect,” Eunbi responds. “Now, boxers off, and sit down on the bed, babe. Let’s get started.”

Trying to look composed, you strip off your boxers and take a seat at the bed’s edge. Eunbi hands you the camera, which distracts your mind—focusing on capturing every moment makes it a bit easier.

Holding the equipment steady, you watch as Eunbi and Yujin kneel between your legs, each settling into position with a practiced balance of intimacy and poise. You adjust the camera, aiming to capture every detail as they lean in close. Through the lens, you see Yujin’s confident experience alongside Eunbi’s eager, intense sincerity.

“Alright, let’s begin,” you say, “One, two, three… rolling!”

Yujin moves first, her hand wrapping around your cock with steady ease, her tongue tracing slowly over every inch, savoring each part while her gaze locks onto yours with a playful glint. “Mmm, you taste so good,” she murmurs, tone teasing, confident.

Eunbi watches, her eyes tracing Yujin’s every move, soaking up each gesture and touch. When she can’t wait any longer, she leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the base, her gaze intense, filled with adoration and hunger, like she’s taking in every sensation, every detail.

"Like that, Eunbi, slow—make him feel every second," Yujin whispers, a subtle smile on her face, watching as Eunbi tries to match her pace. Eunbi gives a barely perceptible nod, determined yet completely surrendered, as if there were nowhere else in the world she'd rather be. She drags her tongue along the base while Yujin takes the tip, alternating pressure, surrounding you with an intensity that’s almost overwhelming.

"Are you enjoying this, love?" Eunbi asks, her voice soft, thick with desire. She meets your gaze, searching for the answer in your eyes. Her lips brush over your skin with a tenderness that contrasts with the heat of the moment, each kiss like a silent promise.

"More than you could imagine," you rasp, struggling to keep your focus on the camera.

Yujin laughs softly, pleased by the effect they both have on you. Without warning, she takes you deeper, her lips sliding firmly, rhythmically. Her tongue circles the tip, drawing slow, teasing loops before she pulls you in, creating a pressure that sends waves of tension up your spine. "I'm going to make you lose control, and Eunbi will help," she says, a teasing tone underlying her words, her eyes alight with purpose.

Driven by her own desire, Eunbi switches between soft kisses and playful licks, exploring every inch with quiet determination.

"Yes, just like that, but firmer," Yujin instructs, holding the base as Eunbi joins her, their faces close enough that their hair nearly tangles. The combination of Yujin's precise skill and Eunbi's gentle touch is mind-blowing.

They work in tandem, Yujin taking the head as Eunbi trails her tongue along the base, each motion coordinated, each touch a new peak of pleasure. At one point, Yujin lets a hand slip down to your balls, massaging with delicate care as her mouth moves with increased intensity. "Let’s get this cock dripping wet," Yujin whispers, her gaze never leaving yours, heat flooding your body.

Emboldened by the rhythm and intensity, Eunbi lowers further, kissing along your thighs, each touch warm and light, as though she’s claiming the space. "You’re so hot, baby," she murmurs, running her tongue over your balls, alternating licks and soft kisses, every motion like a declaration of her desire.

The camera catches every detail—the looks, the touches, the mouths moving in perfect sync as Yujin and Eunbi work together, drawing you closer to the edge. Yujin’s eyes hold that knowing, wicked gleam, while Eunbi, lost in her own admiration and passion, gains confidence with each passing second.

They switch off, Yujin licking her way up your length as Eunbi focuses on the head, each pouring all their attention into every touch. In one moment of pure synchronicity, they glance at each other, smiling, and begin sucking together, Yujin lower, Eunbi at the top, her tongue teasing with playful swirls.

"Look at him," Yujin whispers to Eunbi, fingers brushing along Eunbi’s thigh for encouragement. "Show your naughty boyfriend how much you want this."

Eunbi follows her lead, lifting her gaze to meet yours, her eyes warm and inviting. She holds you firmly, her mouth hot and soft around you, sending a flush through your body.

"Now let’s play with your tits, princess," Yujin suggests.

Eunbi pulls away from your cock, her pink lips gleaming with saliva. Keeping her eyes on you, she reaches back and, with a graceful, deliberate motion, unhooks her bra. The fabric slips away, baring her firm, full breasts, her nipples already hard. She smiles, confidence and desire radiating from her every move.

Yujin watches intently, her gaze hungry. "I think we’ll need a little extra help with this, don’t you?" she murmurs, smiling with intent. Leaning toward Eunbi, the two share a conspiratorial look before each one lets a thin line of saliva drip down onto Eunbi’s breasts, warming the already flushed skin.

Eunbi bites her lip, her body reacting, and Yujin slides her hands over Eunbi’s chest, spreading the moisture slowly, her fingers caressing and squeezing. "This will feel even better for you," she murmurs, looking over at the camera, her voice low and sultry.

Eunbi shifts closer, pressing her breasts softly around your cock. The way they are—the skin glistening with saliva, the hard, pink nipples, the slow, careful movements—is perfection. Yujin smiles at you, dimples showing, her confidence somehow heightening the intensity of the moment.

Eunbi presses her breasts tighter around you, surrounding you in her warm softness. She begins to move in a measured rhythm as Yujin helps guide her motions, both of them keeping their eyes on you, capturing every reaction.

"Do you like it like this, love?" Eunbi asks, her voice low, full of affection and lust. She quickens the pace, alternating between sultry glances your way and shared smiles with Yujin.

You can barely respond, caught up in the sight—the gentle, devoted touch of Eunbi contrasting with the predatory gleam in Yujin’s eyes as she takes in each detail, enjoying every moment.

Yujin catches the look on your face, a satisfied gleam in her eyes. "Oh, I think he’s loving it," she murmurs. Then she moves closer to Eunbi, licking her own lips before leaning in to kiss her.

Eunbi sighs against Yujin’s lips, her chest still pressed against you, her breasts soft and warm as she continues moving. "He loves watching us like this," Yujin whispers to Eunbi, a slow, wicked smile curving her lips. "Look how he’s reacting."

She turns her gaze back to you, eyes full of intent, and murmurs, "I love making you feel good, baby."

Yujin pulls Eunbi in for another kiss, deeper and more urgent. She whispers something in Eunbi’s ear, something you can’t hear but that makes Eunbi smile and press even closer, her energy insatiable.

Her hands grip tighter, intensifying the rhythm, each stroke a heated slide against your skin. Beside her, Yujin slides a hand under her own panties, barely containing her own need as she watches, fingers getting wet as she slides them into her pussy, her eyes fixed on the two of you.

"You look so damn good between her tits," Yujin purrs, a wicked smile on her lips. She pulls her hand from her panties, fingers shining, bringing them to her mouth, licking them clean while keeping her gaze locked on the scene before her. "My panties are soaked just watching," she murmurs, a laugh escaping as she bites her lip.

Spurred by Yujin’s words, Eunbi picks up the pace, her breasts squeezing tighter around you, her mouth teasing as her tongue flicks over your tip. Each time she moves down, she presses closer, feeling every throb. "God, this feels so good," you groan, "I'm so fucking turned on, babe."

Yujin lets out a moan of her own, fingers circling faster against herself. "Oh, Eunbi, you're making your boyfriend feel so good… just look at him," she taunts, licking her fingers again before slipping them back between her thighs, her wetness echoing as she loses herself to her need.

Seeing the look of heated anticipation in Yujin’s eyes, Eunbi leans in closer, pressing her breasts around you in a tighter, more intense rhythm, her mouth quirking into a teasing smile. "You want him to fuck that wet little pussy of yours, don’t you, Yujin?" she murmurs, voice low and provocative.

Yujin moans, biting her lip, her fingers digging into her own skin. "Yes… I want him. I want to feel him… all the way inside me," she whispers, her voice trembling with pure need, her eyes ravenous as they fix on you.

Eunbi chuckles softly, not missing a beat as she continues, pressing you even more firmly as she commands, "Then beg, Yujin! Beg my boyfriend, ask him to fuck you just like you want, you little slut." Her voice rings with a possessive edge that only intensifies her allure.

Yujin doesn’t hesitate. She moans louder, fingers sinking deeper as her eyes meet yours, burning with desire. "Please, baby… fuck me," she pleads, voice nearly a whimper, her face an open invitation. "I need that thick, hard cock stretching me, filling me. Please, make me yours. I want every inch of you," she begs, her words broken by gasps as she keeps touching herself, her hips moving in rhythm, fully surrendered to you.

Watching them, the desire inside you grows with each word, each desperate movement. "I'm going to give you exactly what you want, Yujin," you murmur, voice promising, sending a shiver through her. "I'm gonna wreck that pussy."

“Then do it, baby,” Eunbi urges, pulling her breasts away from your cock. “Ruin this little slut’s pussy.”

The tension in the room reaches a boiling point.

Yujin slips off her soaked panties, kicking them aside as she lies back, legs open, body utterly exposed and eager. Her eyes glint with anticipation as you position yourself between her thighs. Holding your cock firmly, you tease her entrance, just enough to feel her warmth but without fully entering. That light touch alone makes Yujin moan, her body arching, begging silently.

She glances over to Eunbi, eyes playful. “And you? Just going to stand there?” She smiles, taunting, face pure lust. “I want you here, Eunbi... want to feel you on my tongue.”

Eunbi chuckles, her laugh sultry and wicked, and without hesitation, she slips off her own panties, moving to Yujin. Smiling, she positions herself over Yujin's face, thighs spread, lowering herself just enough so Yujin can taste her as she wants. “Then make it good, Yujin,” Eunbi orders, voice low and powerful. “I want to feel every lick.”

Yujin doesn’t need another word. Gripping Eunbi's thighs, she pulls her closer, her tongue diving eagerly between her folds, sucking with a nearly desperate intensity, her muffled moans vibrating against Eunbi's body.

Meanwhile, you press a little harder against Yujin's entrance, still teasing, letting her feel each inch but still not giving in. She arches, pressing herself up to meet you, pleading silently. “Please… put it in,” she whispers, voice dripping with need as her mouth never leaves Eunbi, each lick growing more ravenous.

With a knowing smirk, you oblige.

Yujin writhes beneath you, adjusting her hips to take you fully. “Oh god! Oh- Fuck yes! This is what I wanted!” she gasps, her voice thick with desire.

Eunbi, perched over her, grips her own breasts, fingers teasing her sensitive nipples. “Yes, Yujin… keep eating me out,” she moans, voice trembling as Yujin's tongue circles, exploring every part, making Eunbi shiver on top of her. She meets your gaze, cheeks flushed, and grins wickedly. “You like watching Yujin eat me out while you fuck her, don’t you?”

“Yeah… fuck, I love it, you’re both so fucking hot,” you breathe, voice barely more than a whisper.

Yujin squirms under Eunbi’s weight, moaning into her wet pussy, the sound muffled but enough to stoke your own arousal. “Harder,” Yujin murmurs between licks, “make me feel every inch, don’t stop… I want you to fuck this tight little pussy deep.”

You pick up the pace, your hips slamming against her with more force, feeling the pressure building around you. One hand finds Yujin's clit, rubbing in slow circles, and she bucks against you, a louder moan escaping her.

Eunbi watches, biting her lip, her body tensing as Yujin devours her. “Yes, baby… keep going, fuck her deeper,” she encourages, grinding down, forcing Yujin’s mouth to work harder.

Your hand moves expertly, fingers tracing circles over Yujin’s clit while you thrust, feeling each tight pulse around your cock. With each thrust, her body arches, her face buried between Eunbi’s thighs, making her moan louder with each lick, every touch more intense.

Eunbi smiles at you, a mix of pleasure and taunt, biting her lower lip. “Go on, babe… fuck her good,” she whispers between moans, “I want to hear her scream for you.” Her words push you over, and you increase your rhythm, pounding her, Yujin’s body responding to each deep stroke. Her legs quiver, fingers gripping the sheets, nails digging in as her mouth stays busy between Eunbi’s legs.

Yujin, overwhelmed by the pleasure, lets out muffled moans, each sound vibrating against Eunbi, making her grind down, moaning even louder. “Yes… don’t stop, don’t stop,” Yujin pants, her voice broken with pleasure as her body tightens around you, breath coming in gasps.

Eunbi looks at you, her voice soft, almost a whisper, full of encouragement. “That’s it, babe… keep going… give her everything! Make her come, make her feel your cock in every inch of her,” she teases, her eyes bright as she presses down harder on Yujin’s mouth, lost in the sensation of her tongue.

You lean forward, increasing the pressure on Yujin's clit as you thrust deeper, your fingers moving faster, more insistent, the camera shaking in your other hand (you’ll thank the image stabilizer later). Yujin’s moans grow frantic, her body arching again, every muscle tense. “Yes… I’m gonna come…” she cries, her voice breaking as her body shudders in climax, while Eunbi lets out a cry of her own, lost in the rhythm of Yujin’s tongue.

Yujin’s entire body shakes, muscles tight as she surrenders completely, her voice hoarse, almost shouting. “Ah… don’t… don’t stop… it’s so good, so… ahhh, yes! Harder… more… I…!”

Your fingers press down harder on her clit, stroking in time with each thrust as you sink deeper, feeling every pulse of her tight little pussy. Yujin bites her lip, a choked scream escaping as her hands grip the sheets, eyes squeezing shut, lost in ecstasy. “Oh… my… god… I’m… ahhh, I’m coming, don’t stop, please!”

Eunbi, still perched over Yujin, watches, eyes bright with arousal, her own moans heightening as she sees Yujin’s state. She urges you on, her voice soft but fervent. “Yes, babe! Make this slut come on your cock… make her lose control!”

Then, Yujin’s body seizes, a sharp cry tearing from her throat as she squirts over your thighs and onto the sheets. “Ahhhh! Yes… yes… ahhh! I’m- Oh God! Mmm, I’m coming…!” Yujin practically sobs, her body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through her, surrendering fully to the overwhelming intensity.

Eunbi lifts herself, lips parted, watching Yujin with awe. “My god, Yujin… look what he’s done to you,” she murmurs, barely holding back her own desire.

Still flushed and breathing heavily, Yujin laughs quietly, her cheeks pink, eyes half-lidded as she looks up at you, body still tingling from the aftermath. “Fuck… that cock… made me come so good,” she whispers with a smile, gaze locked on you.

Eunbi, eyes alight with a mix of possessiveness and lust, gives you a provocative smile, biting her lower lip. “So… now you’re going to fuck your girlfriend, aren’t you?” Her voice is laced with challenge and excitement. She positions herself at the edge of the bed, on all fours, ass lifted toward you, offering you the perfect view, while Yujin moves up, legs spread wide in front of your girlfriend.

With a mischievous glint, she spreads her wet folds with her fingers, beckoning Eunbi’s face closer. “Come, Eunbi… lick me while he fucks you,” she whispers, her hand gripping Eunbi’s hair, guiding her closer. “Yes, give me that tongue… show me how well you can eat pussy,” Yujin continues, moaning as Eunbi’s mouth begins to work on her.

Standing behind, you position your cock and slide slowly into Eunbi, feeling her hot, tight walls surround you. A groan escapes your lips as you sink deeper into her, each inch pulling you in. “Fuck, Eunbi… you’re so wet… so good,” you whisper, lost in the intense pleasure.

Eunbi, gasping between licks on Yujin, pants. “Yes, babe… fuck me… deeper… I want to feel you filling me.” She moves back against you, hips circling, each thrust pulling you in further, her ass trembling with each motion, every deep stroke drawing fresh moans from her.

Yujin, delirious from the feel of Eunbi’s tongue against her dripping cunt, grabs her hair, pulling just a little to savor every lick even deeper. “Ahhh, Eunbi, just like that… keep going… Mmm, you're such a slut!” she breathes, her words slipping between moans, eyes squeezed shut as each brush of that soft, wet tongue over her sensitive folds drives her wild.

The tension surges as you thrust deeper, your hands gripping Eunbi’s hips tightly, each push pulling louder, needier sounds from her. “Fuck… so tight,” you murmur, feeling her wetness, her warmth, tightening around every inch as you plunge in. Eunbi can barely keep up as she sucks Yujin, her own body trembling, pressing back against you, every move inviting you to go harder, deeper.

Yujin watches, her lips parted, a throaty moan escaping as she locks eyes with the sight of you taking your girlfriend. “Mmm, fuck,” she chuckles between moans, “You two are so fucking hot!”

Your grip on Eunbi’s waist tightens, her slick cunt clenching around you, and you lean close to her ear. “I’m taking that sweet ass next, babe.” She shivers, biting her lip, and breathes a shaky response. “Yeah, do it… fuck my ass… I want it,” she whimpers, her voice thick with excitement and anticipation.

You guide yourself, pressing the head of your cock slowly against her tight little opening, watching her stretch to take you in. Bit by bit, you slide forward, filling her.

“Ahhh… so tight,” you murmur, your breaths ragged as you film every inch with the new camera, capturing in 4K the way her snug ass opens around you. Eunbi lets out a loud moan, her head thrown back. “Yes, take it… let him wreck that ass,” Yujin whispers to her, reaching down to touch herself as she watches.

“Yes… yes, fuck my ass… fill me, go deeper…,” Eunbi moans, her voice quivering, her whole body alight as you sink in.

Holding her hip firmly, you draw her back, your cock fitting fully inside her tight hole, feeling each part of her yielding to your slow, deliberate rhythm. She lets out a long, low groan, head thrown back, face twisted in a blend of pain and pleasure as she adjusts to the intense stretch.

“Ohh, yeah… keep going… fill me up, I can take it,” she moans, eyes half-lidded, biting her lip, face flushed in pure ecstasy. Each thrust is a new adjustment, feeling her intense tightness, each slide bringing a fresh wave of sensation. “You love this, don’t you, you little slut?” you taunt, voice gravelly, pushing deeper.

Eunbi squirms, her body trembling with each thrust. “Mmm, Yes! Fuck, I love feeling you wreck me… Keep using me, babe, keep- Oh! Like that, baby! Yeah!” she responds, voice shaky, cut off by erratic moans, completely surrendered. With each thrust, the wet, filthy sounds fill the room, bodies colliding in raw, unrestrained passion.

Yujin, still watching close by, runs a hand down her own dripping pussy, eyes fixed on the scene, filled with lust. “God, look at her… you’re destroying her ass,” she whispers, her voice loaded with excitement.

Your firm grip on Eunbi’s hips pulls her back, every inch sinking deep into her tight little ass, feeling her muscles surrender to the slow, deliberate rhythm. She lets out a long, low moan, her head thrown back, her face mixing pain and pleasure as she adjusts to the intense stretch.

"Fuck, babe, watching you eat her pussy gets me so fucking hot," you growl, voice rough, thrusting even deeper. Your hand rises, landing a hard slap on her ass.

“Ow, babe! Yes, slap me! Don’t stop, wreck my little ass, fuck me good!”

Eunbi's moans fill the room, blending with the sound of your hips colliding with her body. Each movement is met with a sharp smack that leaves her skin tingling. “Ahhh, harder… fuck, go deeper… break me,” she begs, her voice hoarse, totally lost in the intense pleasure as you keep pounding, every slap drawing a new moan, louder and dripping with lust.

Yujin, lying on the bed with her legs spread, holds Eunbi’s face firmly, guiding her back to keep licking. “You two are going to make me cum just watching… keep sucking, baby… Mmm, yeah! Just like that! I’m so close, don’t stop!” Yujin moans, her voice trembling as her body arches, writhing with pleasure under Eunbi’s relentless tongue work. Eunbi’s mouth moves faster, sucking with fervor.

“Yeah, Yujin, cum all over her mouth… let my girl taste you,” you say, watching the wild scene unfolding, slowing your thrusts to let Eunbi focus on making Yujin climax. Your girlfriend responds with a muffled moan, intensifying her movements, eyes shut tight in pure concentration, determined to bring Yujin to the edge.

Eunbi feels Yujin’s body tense under her tongue, each shudder racing through her like a live current, her moans rising until they turn into raw, guttural cries. “Ahhh… yes, Eunbi… right there… make me cum, don’t stop!” Yujin practically screams, her nails digging into the sheets, back arching, utterly lost in the moment. Her breaths come fast, each gasp a wave, as Eunbi continues licking with unwavering devotion, her tongue tracing and exploring every wet, trembling inch.

Eunbi, lips and mouth fully devoted to Yujin’s pleasure, mutters through a mouth full of desire, “Cum for me, you dirty slut.” She grips Yujin’s thighs, pulling her closer, not letting any motion escape, savoring every drop. Yujin, utterly spent, sinks her head into the pillows, moaning as the waves of an overwhelming orgasm crash over her.

“Fuck, Eunbi… ahhhh… I’m cumming… cumming in your mouth…!” Yujin gasps, lost in breathless moans and broken cries.

Eunbi’s tongue laps eagerly, drinking in every drop of the hot release that spills from Yujin. She swallows it all, low moans vibrating as she savors the rich taste. With her face still glistening, Eunbi leans back, enough to release a heavy sigh, feeling you sliding your cock in and out, slow and deliberate. “Ahh… I’m close too… almost there,” she whispers, voice thick with need. Yujin, still basking in the glow, laughs softly, a wicked gleam in her eye, as she slowly rises, hand reaching out to take the camera from you with a playful grin. “Let me handle this now… it’s time to make this sexy girl lose it.”

You pull slowly out of Eunbi’s ass, watching her shiver from the sudden emptiness. Now with the camera in Yujin’s hands, the heat in the room rises even more. “I’m capturing everything from this angle… from below, catching every detail.” She asks Eunbi to stand up, guiding you both to place a leg on the bed, opening up to the camera’s raw, unfiltered view.

The two of you follow, adjusting your legs as Yujin instructed, exposing your bodies fully to the camera’s keen eye. Breathing heavily, Eunbi steadies herself, half-closed eyes watching as you position yourself behind her, ready to continue. Yujin kneels just beneath her, angling the camera from the floor so it perfectly captures your cock lined up to press back into Eunbi’s ass, her face already anticipating the pleasure. “Go on, honey… I want to see you ruin her ass.” Yujin murmurs, her voice thick with desire.

With a firm grip on Eunbi’s hips, you press against her tight entrance once more, pushing slowly until you’re fully inside. Eunbi cries out, her head tilting back as Yujin looks up, licking her lips. “That’s it, fill her up… I want to hear her moaning for you.” As the camera rolls, Yujin leans closer to Eunbi’s wet pussy, diving in hungrily, tongue exploring every part while the lens captures every second in vivid detail.

You clutch Eunbi’s hips tightly, thrusting deep into her tight ass, each stroke pulling raw, almost pleading moans from her. “This is what you want, isn’t it? To be fucked on every side like a dirty little slut,” you whisper, watching her face twist in pleasure, that wild glint in her eyes.

“Mmm, yes… yes!” Eunbi cries, barely able to form words as Yujin, still on her knees between Eunbi’s parted thighs, eats her out with hungry intent, focusing especially on her swollen, sensitive clit, licking and pulsing rapidly. “You love this, don’t you?” Yujin murmurs against her wet skin, voice tinged with mischief. “Having your man destroy your ass while I lick your wet pussy!”

“Mmm, Yeah! I love this so much, I feel so slutty.… don’t stop… fuck my ass harder, baby!” Eunbi begs, clutching her own breasts, every word punctuated by broken moans, Yujin’s fingers digging into her thighs, holding them wide open. You pick up speed, thrusting deeper, feeling her body tighten, her ass squeezing around your big cock as she surrenders completely, every inch of her body pulsing with ecstasy.

“She’s almost there, honey,” Yujin says, looking up at you with a devilish gleam in her eyes. “Make her scream, baby, make sure she knows who’s in charge.”

Eunbi writhes, half-closed eyes and face fully given over to pleasure, as you pound into her tight ass harder with each thrust. Her body quivers with each plunge, tense muscles, guttural moans spilling from her lips. Yujin, eyes fixed on Eunbi’s delirious expression, slips two fingers deep into her creamy pussy, moving with steady, firm thrusts, filling the room with the obscene, wet sounds of her every movement.

“Ah… yes… yes!” Eunbi nearly screams, the sound choked by your relentless pace. Yujin leans down again, mouth capturing her sensitive clit, making a lewd sucking sound, her fingers sliding in and out of that creamy, soaking pussy, her hand slick with the hot juices flowing in response. Eunbi’s body arches, utterly surrendered to both of you, every nerve alive with intense, violent pleasure.

Then suddenly, she can’t hold back—the climax hits her like a tidal wave. Eunbi’s eyes roll back, seized by an orgasm that takes control of her, body twisting, clenching in spasms as she cries out, a release that nearly takes her breath away. Her pussy tightens hard around Yujin’s fingers, releasing waves of hot juice as her ass contracts around your cock, like she’s trying to keep you inside, each pulsing contraction showing just how intensely she feels it.

“That’s it, baby… cum for us,” you murmur, Yujin’s fingers still working quickly, every motion drawing more aftershocks until Eunbi nearly collapses, trembling uncontrollably.

You hold Eunbi close against you, feeling each spasm slowly easing, her soft tremors still rippling through her body as the final waves of her orgasm fade. Her sweaty, flushed face rests on your shoulder, eyes closed, a look of pure satisfaction on her lips as she feels you slipping out of her, inch by inch.

Yujin rises slowly, her gaze smoldering as she looks at both of you, her mouth still glistening with Eunbi's essence. She finally unhooks her bra, tossing it aside, and without a word, pulls you in for a deep kiss. Her tongue slides into your mouth, unashamedly sharing the salty, tangy taste of your girlfriend’s pussy, still hot on her lips. It's a slow, wet kiss, where she delights in teasing you, her mouth moving with a firmness that leaves you tense, craving more.

Eunbi, still catching her breath, practically purrs with desire, her half-lidded eyes watching the two of you devour each other. “I want some too,” she murmurs, her voice husky, almost a moan. Yujin smiles against your lips, then pulls Eunbi close, bringing the three of you together in a kiss dripping with lust.

Your tongues meet, sliding against each other in a hot, chaotic frenzy, the taste of Eunbi mingling between you all. The three of you breathe harder, each of you more ravenous than the last, devouring one another with no reservations. Yujin whispers something between kisses, her voice a mischievous murmur. “You two drive me crazy... so delicious,” she says, her hand slipping to the nape of Eunbi’s neck, holding her firmly as she deepens the kiss, tongues tangling and teasing with each motion.

Eunbi moans softly against both your mouths, eyes closed, her fingers tracing along your thigh, slowly rising, each touch light and tempting. “You and her made me cum so good, I’ve never felt anything like that before,” she whispers, her face so close you feel the heat of her words. “But now, I want to see you cum for us…”

Yujin joins her, “Yes, baby, cover our faces with that hot cum.” The perverted tone in her voice only intensifies the heat pooling in your body.

“If that’s what you want, then both of you, get on your knees.”

Without hesitation, they sink down slowly, their eyes locked on yours, each movement a show of submission and desire. Eunbi kneels on your right, Yujin to your left, the two of them exchanging knowing looks and smiling, as if they already know what’s coming. Both of their faces glow with anticipation, mouths slightly parted, hungry gazes that don’t waver for a second.

You lean down, picking up the camera and angling it to capture every detail from above. The image on the screen shows Eunbi and Yujin looking up, lascivious smiles on their lips, eyes alight with excitement as they wait eagerly. “Look at you two,” you murmur, your voice thick with admiration and provocation. “My girls, so beautiful and submissive, ready to take my load.”

Yujin starts first, gripping firmly as her tongue slides over the tip, already slick with pre-cum. “Mmm... love your taste,” she murmurs, before opening her mouth and taking in the head, sucking slowly, feeling you throb against her tongue.

Eunbi watches, biting her lip, and soon joins in, leaning in to press soft kisses along the base while her hands caress your thighs and stomach, nails skimming your skin, leaving a trail of shivers. “Give us that hot load, baby,” she whispers with a voice full of desire, before licking slowly from the base to the middle of your shaft, leaving a wet trail as her eyes meet yours.

They take turns as if rehearsed, Yujin licking the frenulum with precision that makes you moan low, the tip of her tongue making slow, firm circles. Eunbi kisses along the length, making every inch wet and slick, creating a mix of warmth and moisture that leaves you harder than ever. “It’s so big… feels so good in my mouth,” she says, her hands stroking you as she looks up, that naughty smile on her face.

Yujin pulls Eunbi closer and murmurs, “Let’s show him how well we take care of him…” Together, they begin running their tongues along the length of your cock, one on each side, meeting at the tip, exchanging a glance before diving back in, Yujin sucking the head while Eunbi gently sucks on your balls, her lips wrapping around them softly, alternating between kisses and gentle sucks.

“You’re both going to make me cum like this…” you groan, unable to hold back the rising pleasure. Yujin looks up, her lips still wrapped around you, and mutters in a husky voice, “Then cum… we want every drop…”

They both intensify, Eunbi now holding the base firmly while Yujin begins to stroke you.

You feel control slipping away and warn, “I’m close…,” your voice hoarse, each second bringing you closer to the edge. Yujin keeps sucking the tip, her lips pressing against the frenulum with calculated precision.

The pleasure builds, your whole body tense as Yujin and Eunbi wait, kneeling and ravenous, their beautiful faces filled with anticipation. Yujin’s grip tightens, her hand moving faster and firmer as she watches you, her gaze fixed on your face, studying every reaction with visible satisfaction. “That’s it, keep going... let us feel everything,” she whispers, and increases the rhythm, sliding her hand with steady, relentless strokes, pushing you over the limit.

Eunbi watches each moment, licking her lips and sharing a provocative look with Yujin. “Go ahead, baby, don’t hold back,” she murmurs, her voice soft but urgent, her fingers moving slowly over your balls, pressing lightly, matching the pace of Yujin’s strokes, both of them fully focused on taking you to the peak.

Feeling the imminent release, you give a low warning, “I’m... I’m gonna cum…” They both smile, faces eager and hungry, leaning in closer, offering their faces as canvases ready to receive every drop. The first spurt erupts powerfully, thick and hot, hitting Yujin squarely, dribbling down her cheek to her parted lips. She moans low, an expression of absolute pleasure as the cum slides down, licking the edge of her lips, savoring it slowly,”Mmm, so fucking good!” she sighs, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Cum more, baby, please!”

The second spurt lands on Eunbi, splashing across her forehead and dripping down her face. She moans loudly, closing her eyes and leaning forward for more, letting the cum glide down her skin with a satisfied smile. “God... you came so much, baby,” she murmurs, licking her upper lip, tasting your release.

You’re not done yet, the accumulated pleasure so intense that the third burst shoots out forcefully, landing right between the two of them. They look at each other, faces messy and glistening with your cum, eyes sparking with desire as each lets her tongue slide slowly, teasingly, toward the spot where the last drop fell. You hold the camera steady, capturing every detail: the hungry gaze they share, the tips of their tongues meeting right in the center of that thick, warm mixture.

Yujin is the first to lean in, her tongue moving slowly across Eunbi’s cheek, licking a trail of your cum dripping down her face, savoring every inch with deliberate care. “Mmm, so good… hot and thick, just like I imagined,” she whispers, looking at you with a wicked smile before turning back to Eunbi.

Eunbi lets out a low moan, leaning in toward Yujin, her tongue finding drops at the corner of her friend’s mouth, and then her tongue slides a little further, sucking Yujin's chin, where there is a good portion of your cum accumulated. “Your cum tastes so good, baby,” Eunbi murmurs.

With the camera close, you capture the moment they start rubbing their tongues against each other, every movement intense, almost primal. Yujin chuckles softly, her hand caressing Eunbi’s face as she pulls her closer, lifting her own face slightly to spit onto Eunbi’s tongue, who receives it without hesitation. Yujin’s own tongue slides into Eunbi’s mouth with torturous slowness, mixing more of your cum with the taste of each other, low sounds of satisfaction echoing through the room.

Their mouths meet in a final, deep, wet, filthy kiss, licking and sucking everything away. The camera captures the final image: both of them with faces painted in your cum, eyes shining, wicked and satisfied.

You bring the camera closer, capturing every detail of their faces, smeared and glistening with the remnants of your pleasure. With a satisfied smile, you murmur, “Fuck, you two look absolutely gorgeous like this, my perfect cumsluts…” They look at each other and burst into laughter, a sweet, shared laugh, with that glint of someone who’s gone all the way and loved every second of it.

Yujin, wiping a last drop off Eunbi’s brow with her thumb, looks straight into the camera and, with a playful grin, asks, “So… did you enjoy this delicious experience? Was it worth it?”

You smile, nodding as the camera remains focused on their expressions. “It was perfect. Better than I could have imagined.” Eunbi, still catching her breath with cheeks flushed, admits with a satisfied sigh, “I… had no idea it would feel this good. You two… it was indescribable.”

Yujin wraps an arm around Eunbi and says warmly, “I knew you’d love it! Thank you for trusting me and diving in. You were both incredible.”

“Now… how about a little farewell for our audience?” you suggest, your tone playful. The two exchange a glance, and without hesitation, they press their cheeks together, bringing their hands up in a cute little wave, blowing kisses toward the camera. “Thank you for watching… see you next time!” they say in unison, an adorable tone that contrasts with what just happened, laughing softly as they say goodbye with their faces close, sharing light, carefree giggles.

You capture the final frame—two beautiful women, utterly relaxed, eyes still sparkling with excitement, completely caught up in the moment. With a final sigh, you end the recording, knowing you're one lucky fucking man.

—

You step out of the shower feeling like a conqueror of the world—or at least of your own little, unexpected corner of it. The coolness of the water still seems to dance over your skin, every muscle relaxed, every thought light, as if all the effort of the day had evaporated away. You throw on a T-shirt and loose pants and head into the living room, where the stars of the day—Eunbi and Yujin—are already settled in, looking comfortable, like veterans of many such adventures (and maybe, in Yujin’s case, that’s not far from the truth).

Eunbi is curled up in a hoodie three sizes too big, looking perfectly cozy, while Yujin’s wrapped in one of Eunbi’s borrowed robes, savoring a generous spoonful of ice cream.

“So, how are you two feeling?” you ask, the excitement in your voice almost dancing by itself.

The two exchange a knowing smile. “Relaxed,” Eunbi answers with a soft smile, her eyes still sparkling.

“Alive,” Yujin adds, pausing only to take another spoonful of ice cream. Then she turns to Eunbi with a casual look and a curious smile. “And the jealousy, honey? How’d you hold up?”

Eunbi blushes, but she doesn’t look away, accepting the question as a challenge. “You know… at first, yeah. It was hard seeing him… connecting with someone else. But as I watched how much he was enjoying it… I don’t know, I think I started enjoying it, too.”

Yujin laughs softly, clearly pleased. “Now that’s the spirit. And can I just say? For your first time with a girl, you were amazing.” She regards Eunbi with playful admiration. “And I’m not just talking about technique, you know? It was more… your enthusiasm.”

Eunbi blushes even more but doesn’t lose her smile. “Well… you made it easy.”

Yujin turns to you with that look of someone sharing the world’s most obvious secret, adding, “And you… I have to say, those guys who seem quiet and reserved… they always end up being the best. Must be something to do with… attention to detail.”

You chuckle awkwardly, trying to hide the satisfaction that still shows. “Look, I never… really imagined I’d be… with two incredible women like this.” You try, but words don’t seem to be enough.

“Oh, and getting paid for it, no less! How do you manage it?”

“The money and the adventures are great,” you begin, feeling a sudden inspiration, “but seeing my girl happy is what really matters to me. I’m just in this for her, and for as far as she wants to go.”

Yujin gives a playful look between you and Eunbi. “See? You two have something special. Most couples wouldn’t even consider this, but you? You’re here, having fun, creating intimate and unique memories, just embracing it all. No bullshit.”

Eunbi, still smiling with a mix of pride and tenderness, sighs. “Yeah… but honestly? I think what makes it work is that we… talk. Like, really talk.”

“Yes,” Yujin adds, “that’s rarer than it sounds. And don’t get me wrong, sometimes just the… physical part is great, you know? But having someone who understands and supports you? That’s the hard part to find.” She gives a soft, almost sentimental smile before diving back into her ice cream as if it were the last of its kind.

“So, is it time for your podcast with Sana now?” Eunbi asks.

Yujin nods eagerly. “Yep, straight from a hot session with you two to the spotlight.”

You laugh lightly. “Can’t believe we have a celebrity in our apartment. How do you handle all these commitments?”

She leans in with an exaggerated expression of importance, pretending to adjust an invisible crown. “Oh, darlings, you’re in the presence of a businesswoman. Important, in-demand, and… completely devoted to this fantastic ice cream!”

Eunbi smiles, her eyes shining with admiration. “I’m going to watch the episode! Bet you’ll steal the show!”

“You… err… You two are just so sweet, you know?” Yujin murmurs, but her voice breaks, a sudden, unexpected emotion making her words stumble. Tears start forming silently in her eyes as she tries, comically, to keep devouring the ice cream as if nothing’s happening. She laughs, a clumsy sob escaping as tears fall without ceremony. “Sorry, it’s just… you know, it’s so good. This ice cream… is emotionally very intense, I guess. It just caught me off guard.”

Eunbi, a bit alarmed, asks softly, “Yujin, are you okay?”

“Of course!” Yujin laughs again, still mixing her shaky voice with humor to brush it off. “It’s just… it’s like everything hit me all at once, you know? Just… tired. But nothing serious.” She wipes her tears with the back of her hand, smiling. “It’s not depression or anything, okay? Just a bit of burnout. Something light. Normal.”

You watch the tension unwind from her face, layer by layer, and feel something more than curiosity—real concern, that uncomfortable feeling of seeing someone who seemed unbreakable finally give way. You sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her with almost reverent care.

“Yujin,” you say, your voice low and steady. “If you need anything, anything at all…”

Yujin looks up, a little surprised, then smiles. It’s almost a painful smile, one that won’t quite admit that maybe, just maybe, she really does need that offer of help. She shakes her head. “No, really, you two are sweethearts. It’s just… you know, sometimes it’s all a bit too much. And then I forget. Forget to breathe. Forget to… I don’t know… take care of myself a little.”

Eunbi watches her closely, as if trying to decipher every word, every nuance. “It’s okay, you know? If you want to cancel the podcast… Sana will understand. It’s just one episode.”

Yujin takes a deep breath and shakes her head, this time with a determined look. “Oh, no… Sana is… Sana is one of the good ones. I want to go. It’ll be fun, I just need a little… I don’t know, pep talk, maybe?” She gives a short laugh, but sadness lingers there, lurking, and her hand still trembles slightly as she sets her ice cream bowl on the coffee table.

Eunbi, however, doesn’t give up. She holds Yujin’s hand between hers, firm and warm, grounding her, and says with a soft but resolute voice, “Yujin, no matter what happens… we’re here. For anything you need, really.”

For the first time, Yujin looks at you both without any of her usual masks, and you see a glimmer of something vulnerable, almost fragile. She opens her mouth, and for a moment, you think she might say something heavy, something real. But instead, she lets out a dry, melancholy laugh.

“Look at me,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “Here I am, getting all emotional, babbling a bunch of nonsense. God, I can be so ridiculous sometimes! But now that's enough, no more crying here! And I'm sorry about this, guys."

She gives you and Eunbi a look full of tenderness, as if she wants to capture this moment, this presence, this support that maybe, she hadn’t expected. She jokes, her voice still a bit shaky: “You know what? What if the three of us just formed a throuple, huh? A modern fairytale, all ours.”

You all laugh, the tension finally melting away. She wipes the tears from her eyes, standing up with a renewed energy. “Just kidding, of course. You two are wonderful together. If I joined this story, I’d probably just ruin the magic.” She shrugs, adjusting her borrowed robe. “Besides, I like having the bed all to myself. You know, no fighting over the blanket.”

—

Later, in the dark bedroom, you're completely out, already dreaming about absurdly nonsensical things. But Eunbi is nowhere near sleep. She’s lying there, shifting restlessly, as if waiting for you to wake up and ask what's wrong; finally, she loses patience and nudges your shoulder. Once, twice, three times, until you make some indistinct noise halfway between a snore and a "huh?"

“Are you awake, babe?” she asks, like the repeated pokes hadn’t already given her the answer.

“Now I am,” you mumble, still keeping your eyes closed. “Not like I wanted to sleep or anything.”

“Stop being silly,” she says, but her voice is soft, almost hesitant. There’s something in it that makes you crack one eye open. “I’m worried about Yujin.”

You turn to look at her, blinking in the dark to focus. “Hmm, Yujin? The same Yujin who posted stories just a few hours ago, smiling on the plane? The same Yujin who left our apartment on the phone about a sponsorship offer from a... vibrator brand?”

Eunbi sighs. “Yes, I know. But still… that doesn’t mean she’s actually okay.”

You let out a tired sigh, remembering how Yujin was—laughing, having fun, brimming with an energy that seemed unbreakable. Until, of course, she randomly started crying. “Yeah, that was… weird. But you’ve done that too, you know? I’ve seen you start crying out of nowhere sometimes.”

“That’s when I’m on my period, you dummy,” she mutters, resting a light but ‘threatening’ hand on your shoulder and giving you a gentle smack. “Totally different.”

You laugh, pulling her a little closer. “Alright, alright. But seriously, babe, Yujin’s an adult, you know? I’m sure this isn’t the first time she’s had a moment like that.”

“I know, but… should I have insisted that she rest?”

“You did more than enough,” you say softly. “She knows we were there for her. And I’m sure she’s grateful for that, you know? Just because she projects that ‘I’m indestructible’ vibe doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate the support. If she needs anything, she’ll text you or some other friend. She’s fine, don’t worry.”

Eunbi sighs again, but there’s a bit more ease in it this time. “Maybe you’re right…”

“Of course I am,” you say, pulling her in even closer. “And besides, we’re gonna see her again, remember? We’re gonna film more stuff together. We’ll get used to her freaking out, laughing, crying… it’s all part of the package.”

Eunbi raises an eyebrow, feigning a jealous look. “Oh, yeah? Who says we’re filming with her again? Did you like her that much?”

You chuckle, catching her playful tone. “Obviously. All for your success, babe. It’s just strategic thinking, you know?”

She laughs, giving your chest a light smack. “Alright, strategist. I'm just kidding. It was really fun, the whole… experience.”

“Good. Now, go to sleep,” you say, exhausted.

“Yes, Daddy,” she replies, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Oh, I like that,” you joke.

She rolls her eyes in the dark and replies, “Don’t even start.”

[kirammanswifey]

I gotta say you're one of my favourite writers as of late and I've been re reading all your work over and over again on my trips to college, like ot just scratches my brain so so wonderfully 😩😩

Would you be open to write them Arcane characters and fem!reader's sleeping arrangements? Like who cuddles who, who has matching pyjamas, who reads in bed

arcane characters' sleeping arrangements x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i missed this so much, i haven't updated for a week, college is eating me alive, literally. hope you liked this dynamic, my favorite was ekko's, lately this man has snuck into my heart. as you already know request are open ;)

Viktor

The room is wrapped in a soft, relaxing atmosphere. The warm light from the desk lamp dimly illuminates the walls, and the sound of rain outside the window adds a layer of tranquility to the space. Viktor is by your side, and for a moment, you can see something few people ever have the privilege of seeing: his vulnerability.

It’s curious how, in his world full of inventions, calculations, and scientific advancements, there’s something so basic as the need for someone close to him that seems to overflow from the rigid facade he usually wears. You’re there, in bed, reading a book or simply listening to the rain when he suddenly drops his notebook next to him and turns toward you.

"It’s strange... I never imagined I could feel so... calm," he says softly, as if evaluating his own feelings. He, the man who has devoted his life to science, to logic, somehow can’t explain how your presence makes him feel something he’s never experienced before. You try not to show it, but the tone of his voice reaches your heart.

Little by little, he approaches, moving cautiously, as if every gesture were a meditation. He doesn’t make abrupt moves. His hands, usually cold from being surrounded by machinery, are now gentle when they touch the side of your arm. It’s a timid touch, almost as if he fears invading your space. But you understand, because you know that, inside, he still struggles to trust these simple, human moments.

"Is it alright if...?" He doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he lets the silence ask everything. His eyes, somewhat tired but filled with a serenity only you can provoke, look at you with a mix of desire and fear. It’s a constant game of insecurity in his mind: Should he get closer? Would he make you uncomfortable if he does? But there’s no need for words between the two of you, just the silent language of gestures. You, as always, understand without explanations.

Without saying anything, you move toward him, allowing your body to communicate what words cannot. Viktor sighs in relief, his shoulders relaxing, and once he’s next to you, he settles in, making sure not to invade your personal space completely. His fingers, without thinking, search for your hands and gently interlace them, almost as if it were an automatic act.

"How can you be so close to me without...?" His words fade into the air as your eyes meet his. He doesn’t need to say more; you know he’s acknowledging what he’s never been able to admit: the fear of closeness. The fear of losing control, of losing you. But in that moment, the only thing that matters to him is being close to you.

"It’s just a touch, Viktor," you murmur, with a soft smile. Your tone is calm, without hurry, with the same tranquility he needs. And without thinking, he pulls you a little closer, letting the distance that has always existed between the two of you fade away. His breathing becomes slower, as if simply having you close gives him a sense of peace that nothing else has provided.

"I need you here," he murmurs, more to himself than to you, as if the idea of having you near is an anchor for his constantly occupied mind, always worried about the next breakthrough, the next experiment. But not today. Today, he only needs you.

As you both settle into the bed, a light draft of cold air enters through the window, but Viktor, almost instinctively, makes sure the blanket covers both of you. In his eyes, there’s a sense of protection, of wanting to take care of you even without saying it. As he settles in, his fingers find your hair, caressing it gently, feeling the texture, as if each movement were a way to calm himself.

At first, he stays still, focused on the sound of your breathing, on how your body relaxes in his arms. But as the minutes pass, he begins to lose himself in the warmth of your closeness. His hand moves to your waist, seeking not just physical warmth, but a little emotional comfort as well. Those small gestures, which for him seem simple, carry much more weight: he’s letting you in.

"I never thought something so simple could mean so much," he says, almost in a whisper. It’s such a simple comment, but it’s laden with emotion. A moment when science and logic fade away, and all that remains is human connection, the bond that is built over time.

Minutes turn into hours. Viktor, finally, falls into a deep sleep, his body slightly tilted toward you. He had always been the one willing to give everything for the future, for Piltover, for science. But that night, the future doesn’t matter as much. What matters is what’s in front of him. And what’s in front of him is you, calmly resting in his arms.

When he wakes up, your eyes meet his, a slight blush on his cheeks. "Good morning," he says, as if this small act of waking up together were something incredibly grand. And, in a way, it is.

Jinx

The flickering light of the neon lamps gently trembles in the air as she, with her boundless energy, is in her world, completely immersed in whatever has caught her attention at that moment.

Sitting on the bed, Jinx shakes a strange object she just got, making "bang, bang" noises with her mouth while pointing it at the mirror, her reflection smiling back with that deranged grin you know so well. Suddenly, she throws you a defiant glance, as if challenging you to enter her chaotic world.

"Come on, aren't you going to say anything?! I'm a destruction machine, wooow!" She laughs hysterically, clearly enjoying the moment.

You, watching her, can't help but laugh too, though in a more calm way, feeling that mix of affection and concern for her. You know that behind that laugh and overflowing energy, there's something deeper, something that sometimes gets lost among the explosions of her inner chaos.

At first, you try to let her do her thing, but you know the night is already quite late, and Jinx is far from ready to sleep. The chaos continues to spread around her, and despite your desire to sleep, you know that if you don’t act, there will be no way for her to calm down. So you decide to approach.

"Hey, sweets," you say softly, your tone calm but firm. "Don’t you think it’s time to rest a bit?"

Jinx turns toward you, her eyes shining with excitement. "No, no! I’m not tired! I don’t need to sleep... Not until you find something as incredible as... this!" And in a burst, she jumps to the other side of the bed and starts spinning around like a child, throwing objects into the air.

You know you won’t convince her with words. You get up with a patient smile and quickly reach her. "You’ll have to put that down for a moment. I promise we’ll have all the fun you want tomorrow," you say, moving slowly to give her a gentle tap on the shoulder, trying to gain her attention in a softer way.

But Jinx doesn’t listen. She stops for a second, looks at you sideways, and throws another object, as if challenging your patience. "I don’t want tomorrow! I want everything to explode now!"

This is the moment when you know you need to be more than gentle. You approach her with a calm smile, but one full of determination, and take her hand. "Baby," you say, now looking directly into her eyes, "I know you like chaos, but you also need to rest. Would you like...?" You pause, the idea of calming both of you down seems almost unreal, but you know it's what she needs most. "If you cuddle here with me, maybe we could rest for a bit? Just a little while, so tomorrow you'll be full of energy for all your crazy ideas."

Jinx watches you for a moment, her eyes shining with something between doubt and curiosity. "You... with me?" The idea seems strange to her, but something in your soft tone makes her stop, her body relaxing for a second.

Without saying more, she slowly moves toward you, her energy suddenly calmed by your presence. "No... I’m not tired, but... I can try," she murmurs. It’s strange to see Jinx so vulnerable, her impulsive attitude and need for attention seemingly subdued for a moment.

You let her get closer, and the moment she settles by your side, you feel that overwhelming desire to take care of her. Jinx settles into the bed, seeking your closeness as if, in some way, your presence is her refuge. She quickly cuddles up to you, without thinking twice, searching for the warmth that, for some reason, only you can give her. The chaotic energy from before begins to slowly fade as she embraces you.

"Promise, okay?" she whispers, her voice softer now, a tone you haven’t heard all day. Jinx snuggles even closer, her head resting on your chest, searching for that peace she so desperately needs, even though she won’t admit it.

"Yes, promise," you respond, gently stroking her hair, feeling how her tension gradually dissipates. It’s curious how, amid all her chaos and madness, simply being there with her, the calm begins to emerge.

Jinx sighs, and in that moment, all the noise and explosions from her mind seem to fade away. Her breathing becomes slower, more relaxed. You have her there, in your arms, so vulnerable, so unique. This is the moment when the chaos shuts off, and only she remains, with you.

"You’re... weird," she murmurs as she settles against you, already almost asleep, but with a little smile on her face. "I never thought I’d sleep so peacefully... thanks," she adds, and for the first time, her words aren’t a joke. It’s a sincere thank you, even wrapped in that strange way Jinx knows how to be.

You stay there, stroking her hair, feeling how she gradually falls asleep.

Vi

Vi is not one of those people who can sleep immediately. No matter how tired she is, she always has something on her mind or at least something she wants to do before giving in.

You find yourself sitting on the bed, already in your pajamas, wearing one of Vi's old t-shirts and your black underwear, the ones Vi used to love. You have a book in your hands, and as you flip through the pages, you watch as Vi stays in "active mode," rummaging through the drawer of the nightstand. She's wearing a sleeveless shirt and dark shorts. She glances at you from the corner of her eye, noticing your calmness.

"Don’t you want to sleep or what?" Vi asks with that cheeky smile on her face. You know that for her, the concept of "relaxing" is still something she's trying to understand. But it makes you smile.

"Yeah, sure. I'm just reading for a bit before bed," you reply, not taking your eyes off the book.

Vi sits next to you on the bed, giving you a sideways glance before flopping onto the pillow. "Pfff, reading? You’re always so chill… I, on the other hand, am already dying of sleep... But… I don’t wanna sleep yet."

It’s then that she turns to face you, a slight grimace of discomfort crossing her face. "You know what I want? I want you to cuddle me," she says. And although her tone is playful, you can hear the genuine tiredness in her voice. You know that Vi has a steel personality, but even she can’t escape the embrace of calmness when she feels safe. And apparently, that safe place is with you.

Without thinking much, you smile and adjust yourself on the bed, opening your arms to welcome her. Vi doesn't waste a second, immediately nestling against your side with a satisfied smile. "I thought you didn’t want to sleep," you tease softly.

"Too much talk," she responds, resting her body against yours, her shoulders pressed against yours, her breath near your neck. "Just let me be here for a few minutes."

Vi rests her head on your chest, and you relax, feeling how she snuggles in closer. The touch of her skin against yours and the way she settles, fitting perfectly, makes everything feel comfortable and natural.

"You know what the best part of all this is?" she asks, her voice soft but with that playful spark that never leaves her. "Having you here next to me, with those panties that drive me crazy. Why are you so sexy, babe? It's not fair to my mental health." She chuckles, her fingers shamelessly tracing the lace of your underwear.

"You’re also too sexy, babe, sometimes way too much. Look at those abs, they’re like steel," you reply, gently touching her delicious and muscular abdomen as you look at her, realizing how easy it is to make her blush with something so simple.

Then, you take control of the moment and hold her a little tighter, enjoying the closeness and how her body gradually relaxes in your arms. Vi remains restless, but as the minutes pass, her movements become gentler. A couple of times, you hear her mumble something, but it’s nothing coherent, just sounds that let you know she’s falling into a state of relaxation, the one she rarely shows others.

"Hey, why don’t you stop moving?" you gently complain, although you know Vi is always like this, even when she's tired. But you make a small adjustment, settling her between your arms and whispering in her ear. "Relax. You’re safe here."

At first, Vi doesn’t know what to do with your words. But after a few seconds of silence, she responds in a calm, low tone. "Alright, alright. I’m here." And with that, her eyes slowly close.

It’s curious, because even in the simplest moments, Vi has her own way of relaxing, but it’s never like what you’d expect. She feels more comfortable when she's close to you, when she can be by your side without needing to always be alert. Slowly, her breathing becomes deeper and more relaxed.

In that moment, you start to notice that the book you had started reading no longer interests you. With a small sigh, you let Vi settle in your arms, and she falls asleep with a smile on her face. You watch her, gently stroking her hair, feeling that in her arms, though strong, there is a peace you hadn’t seen before.

Caitlyn

The night has fallen, and the hectic workday has finally come to an end. It's time to relax, and as always, you have your little nightly ritual with Caitlyn. After dinner, you both get up, stretching lightly after the meal, while Caitlyn gives you a look that clearly knows what's coming next.

"Shall we brush our teeth?" Caitlyn asks with a calm smile as she heads toward the bathroom. You follow her, leaving the table clean and quiet, the silence of the night surrounding you both.

In the bathroom, you both stand in front of the mirror. Caitlyn looks at you in her reflection, her hair still tied up in a soft ponytail. "I think I'm winning in speed," she says playfully, but you just smile while brushing your teeth. It's a simple moment, but one of those that becomes part of the everyday, like a small shared gesture of complicity.

After a few minutes, you finish brushing your teeth, and Caitlyn, always with a little more patience, takes her time.

When she finishes, Caitlyn opens her drawer carefully and pulls out matching pajamas: a cotton set, comfortable, in dark tones, but with small embroidered details, as if you'd chosen it especially for her. You look at it, smiling to yourself.

"Another night with matching pajamas, huh?" you say as you put yours on, and Caitlyn can't help but laugh.

"I know, I know," Caitlyn responds, with that soft but amused look. "It's kind of silly, but I like it. It's our tradition."

It's a simple gesture, but it carries a deep meaning: amid all the problems that surround both of you, finding these small moments together is what truly makes it all worthwhile. Caitlyn gives you a knowing look as she watches you finish putting on your pajamas, a kind of silent challenge to see who fits the set better. She always teases you a little because she knows how much you enjoy seeing her in these quiet moments, and how well she looks in the set.

You both finish getting dressed and head to the bed, the silence being replaced by a shared calm. Caitlyn slides under the covers, settling carefully, but as always, she looks at you first, waiting for you to take the initiative.

"You know," Caitlyn murmurs, turning to look at you, "the usual. I think that position is the best for sleeping." Her tone is low, with a slight smile.

Without saying another word, you position yourself behind her, wrapping a strong arm around her, the small curve of her body against yours. Sometimes, it feels like the whole world disappears when you embrace her, when the warmth of her body mixes with yours. Caitlyn curls up between your arms, knowing exactly how to position herself so that the feeling of safety is mutual.

"It's a good way to end the day," Caitlyn whispers, settling into your embrace as her hands lightly grasp yours, seeking the physical contact that she knows calms her. You love how she lets go in these moments, leaving behind the strong and determined woman who can handle anything, and becoming that person who, at the end of the day, just needs the comfort of your arms to feel good.

Your arm wraps around her waist firmly, while you, being the dominant one in this moment, hold her protectively, your body aligned behind hers, letting her hair fall softly over your chest. "I’ve got you," you say quietly, almost like a whisper, and Caitlyn responds with a soft sigh, letting go completely in your arms. In that instant, it's as if the world shrinks down to just the two of you, to that embrace which is the only thing that matters at that moment.

Caitlyn turns her head slightly, seeking your lips to steal a gentle kiss, while your fingers trace the curve of her shoulder, as if you wanted to make sure that, for once, everything is right. "I love you," she whispers against your lips, with a tone more vulnerable than the whole day.

You both remain silent for a few minutes, just the sound of shared breathing in the room. Those moments of tranquility are worth more than anything.

Jayce

The night slowly falls over Piltover, and after a long day of work, Jayce finally arrives home, a slight furrow on his brow. He's always thinking about the next project, the next invention, or the last tweak to his latest creation, and the idea of resting seems to be the last thing on his mind. But this time, there’s something different, something that makes his step slower as he arrives home: you.

You, in your comfortable pajamas, waiting for him with a cup of tea in your hands and a couple of blankets on the bed. The simple act of seeing you seems to disarm him. "Today was... long," he says with a tired smile, removing his work cape, revealing what looks like his more comfortable clothes for the night: a simple cotton T-shirt and long pants. But despite his fatigue, his eyes meet yours, and a long sigh escapes his chest.

"I can tell," you respond with a gentle smile, welcoming him. You know that Jayce is someone who doesn’t know how to completely relax, and that gives you a little challenge every night.

After a day filled with ideas and thoughts, Jayce approaches you and sits on the bed. "You know how to make work feel less heavy," he comments, looking at your cup of tea, always one of your quick fixes to calm him down.

With a touch of tenderness, you offer him the cup. "This will help," you say, noticing how his shoulders drop slightly when he takes the first sip. "I promise. Tonight, you rest, love."

He looks at you for a moment, skeptical, but can’t help but smile at how warm your smile is. He finally gives in and lays down. As you watch him, you know Jayce is always the first to want to take control, but in this space, it’s your turn to guide him.

When Jayce comes out of the shower, he lies down next to you on the bed. He feels a bit more relaxed, but you can still see that his mind is running at full speed. You know this is the perfect moment to make him truly unwind.

"Would you like me to read something for you?" you ask softly, with a look full of tenderness. Even though he doesn’t say it directly, you know that sometimes Jayce just needs to disconnect and be carried away by a peaceful story, something to take him away from the constant pressure of innovation.

"You know, you make me feel like a kid?" he replies with a playful smile, but his tone is softer than usual, as if he really appreciates the gesture. "But, yes. I’d like that."

You settle beside him, opening the book you always keep on hand for these moments. It’s nothing too elaborate, just a light novel you know helps him disconnect. As you read aloud, Jayce settles into the pillow, eyes closed, listening to your voice. Occasionally, he looks at you, but his eyes aren’t as full of tension as before. In fact, he feels lighter, more at ease.

When you finish reading the chapter, you know it’s time to take the next step. Jayce is always a bit reluctant to the idea of sleeping, because he feels there’s always more to do, but you don’t let him go. "Now, relax. You’re fine," you tell him as you curl up behind him.

Jayce turns toward you, and at that moment, without planning it, you position yourself next to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You adjust yourself so that he’s leaning against your chest while you wrap a strong arm around his torso protectively. He’s a bit surprised, but doesn’t say anything, letting the contact envelop him with a warmth that, for the first time all day, makes him feel like he doesn’t have to be in control.

"Is this okay?" you ask, your voice low and calm, as you gently caress his back, making sure he’s comfortable.

"Yes... It’s... perfect," he whispers, finally relaxing. It’s not something he says often, but you know that, in these moments, he really lets go. You continue to softly stroke his back, letting him stay in your arms, relieved by your presence.

Jayce falls asleep quickly, without trying to escape your embrace. His breaths are soft and deep, and for the first time, he seems to find some peace. You, however, stay awake a little longer, watching how his face, so full of determination during the day, is now serene in your arms.

Ekko

Ekko curls up on his side of the bed, but he's not ready to sleep. You know he has an energy that doesn't turn off easily, and as always, you're about to see that playful side of him.

"Did you know we're supposed to be sleeping now? We've got important stuff to handle tomorrow," you say, settling between the sheets, but glancing at him, hoping he'll relax.

Ekko, always with a mischievous smile, gives you a playful, challenging look from his side of the bed. "Sleep? Nah, I thought you were staying awake with me for a bit," he says, quickly reaching over to your pillow and tapping you with it.

"What are you doing?" you ask, laughing, knowing this can only end one way: a little pillow fight.

"Nothing, just seeing if you have a good defense," Ekko shrugs, giving you a teasing look before lifting himself slightly off his bed, ready to continue his attack.

Before you can react, Ekko taps you on the head with the pillow, and you can't help but let out an incredulous laugh. "Hey!" you protest, diving toward him with your own pillow in hand. The air fills with laughter and the sound of pillows hitting everything in their path.

"That's not fair!" you exclaim while trying to defend yourself, but Ekko is agile, always anticipating your moves. Somehow, he dodges your strike, and with a cheeky smile, taps you on the shoulder.

"Ah, I'm done being the good guy!" he says with a playful tone, getting up to attack you once again, but this time, he slides behind you with a move that leaves you unable to do anything.

"No!" you laugh as you try to turn around, but as always, Ekko outplays you. With one last pillow strike, the battle ends with both of you laughing, messy in the bed, the air filled with the fun energy he always brings.

For a moment, everything goes silent, both of you breathing heavily. Ekko, however, can't help but let out a satisfied laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Never underestimate my skills," he says, settling more comfortably on the pillow and stretching a little. But now, his tone has shifted to something softer, more relaxed, like that little burst of energy was what he needed to truly unwind.

"Please, I was about to beat you. You're out of your league," you respond with a mischievous smile, getting comfortable again in the bed.

But before you can say anything more, Ekko gives you a tender look, and with a gentle impulse, he pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in a hug with a more peaceful smile. "That was fun, huh?" he asks, and in his voice, you can hear the more relaxed tone that makes you smile.

You, feeling the softness of his embrace, can't help but laugh again. "I'll admit it, I had fun. But you won't beat me so easily next time. You caught me off guard, that was practically cheating."

"Are you done crying?" he jokes with a sideways smile.

But before you can say anything, Ekko has another mischievous idea in mind. In the blink of an eye, his fingers are at your side, giving you a little poke with the tips of his fingers. It's nothing you couldn't have anticipated.

"No, no, no!" you shout, laughing, but it's too late. Ekko has already started tickling your stomach, a quick move that makes you squirm and laugh with all your might. "Ekko, stop! I swear I'll kill you!"

But he doesn't relent, knowing exactly where your weak spots are. "What, have you already surrendered?" he says, enjoying every laugh that escapes your lips. Your hands try to push his away, but you can't stop laughing in the silliest way, a mix of fun and surprise.

"I can't... stop... laughing!" you manage to say between gasps of laughter.

After a few seconds, he finally stops, seeing how comical you look with your red face and flushed cheeks from all the laughter.

"See? You can't beat me at anything," he says, smiling as if he's won the battle, even though both of you know that, in reality, no one is winning or losing.

"I hate you!" you say between laughs, but the tone is entirely playful, with no malice. And when you try to catch your breath, his fingers finally move away from your stomach, and his hands fall softly to your sides.

The mood shifts quickly, and the laughter fades into a sigh. Ekko, still smiling, settles closer to you, his eyes now softer, less playful, and much more affectionate.

"Admit I'm better than you," he says, though it's clear he enjoys the way you've given yourself to the moment.

"Never," you reply with a smile, unable to stop looking at him, feeling how the warmth between you both grows even more.

In a calm movement, Ekko slowly leans in, bringing his face closer to yours. His eyes, always so full of energy, now shine with an unexpected sweetness. No words are needed; you both feel what's about to happen. And before you can say anything, he kisses you, gently, in a slow way that takes you by surprise.

It's a soft kiss, full of affection, as if he's saying that the good things in life are these little shared moments, like this one, without any worries. The kiss is brief, but enough for all the noise of the pillow fight to fade, leaving only a peaceful hum between you two.

When you finally pull apart, both of you lie in silence for a moment, feeling how the warmth of Ekko's closeness wraps around you. He looks at you with tenderness, and you respond with a relaxed smile, as if, in this moment, the whole world could wait.

"You need to improve your techniques, babe, I'm getting tired of winning all the time," he whispers, and his words make you laugh softly, because you know that, in that instant, the only thing that matters is that you're together, sharing something beyond jokes and tickling.

Finally, you settle back into the bed, and Ekko snuggles up next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. Legs intertwined, you both feel calmer, safer. The space between you is no longer filled with laughter or games, but with a comfortable, comforting peace. Your breaths sync as sleep begins to approach, but not before exchanging one last look, one that says more than words ever could.

"Good night, loser," Ekko says with a playful grin.

"Good night, cheater," you reply, gently stroking his arm, while you both stay there, surrounded by the warmth that only comes from being with someone you truly understand.

Silco

The candlelight flickers gently in the room, illuminating the hard contours of Silco as he settles into the armchair near the bed. The atmosphere is thick with the kind of tension that only exists between two people who share something complicated, yet, at the same time, seek comfort in each other's presence. The room is silent, almost as if the outside world doesn't matter in this moment.

Silco, with his cold, calculating gaze, watches you from the corner of his eye as you prepare for bed, moving through the room with a calmness that, though peaceful, carries an enveloping energy. He doesn't speak much, but his presence is intense.

"You're not going to sleep?" you ask softly, slipping into your pajamas with a curious gesture. Silco isn't known for his ease in relaxing, and you've noticed that he often needs a push to let go of his constant vigilance.

Silco, without looking away, replies in his low, gravelly voice, "Don't you know I'm not one for sleep?" It's a typical comment from him, one that, in other moments, you would have taken as a barrier. But this time, there's something more. Something that draws you closer.

"I know, but we all need rest, even you," you say as you approach the bed. Without waiting any longer, you lie down on the mattress, feeling the softness of the sheets around you. Despite Silco's distant demeanor, you know he's watching every move you make. There's something in his gaze that says he can't help but care, even if he doesn't voice it.

After a few moments, he rises from his chair and steps toward you, his movements deliberate but slower, as though he's weighing each step. The air becomes a bit heavier, yet more comfortable.

"I don't need rest," he says, but his voice is less firm now. It's almost as if he's speaking more to convince himself than to you.

You look at him, noticing the small gestures that betray him. The way his eyes, usually so cold, soften when he looks at you. He looks like a puppy asking for affection. You decide to take the initiative, sitting up a little to move closer to him. At this moment, it doesn't feel like a power struggle, but more like an invitation to something more personal.

"You and I both know that's not true," you murmur, offering him a calm, almost reassuring smile.

He doesn't respond immediately but takes a step toward you. For a second, the silence between you both seems heavier, and for an instant, you think he might pull away. But instead, he takes hold of your wrist with a firm, yet gentle hand. His fingers close softly around your skin, as if it's the only way he knows how to communicate.

"I don't need you to take care of me," he says, though his tone isn't as certain.

But you don't pull away. "I never said you would. But I want to," you respond, and in that moment, you can see his expression soften, even if only for a brief second. Silco isn't someone used to receiving this kind of affection, yet here he is, allowing you to touch him.

He sits on the bed beside you, saying no more, but there's a sense of understanding between you. As if the simple act of both of you being in the same room, together, was enough to create a deeper connection. Somehow, neither of you need words to understand that something more exists between you two, something that even he can't deny.

Finally, he lies beside you, but not in the way you might expect from someone who usually keeps their distance. His posture is stiff, but close, his body aligned with yours, even though his eyes remain alert, as if waiting for something to happen.

Then, without thinking too much, you move closer and wrap your arms around him, hugging him protectively. Silco seems surprised for a moment, but doesn't pull away. Instead, there's a moment where his breathing slows, becomes more measured, and you can feel his body, so tense inside, begin to relax. His nose buries into your hair, inhaling your sweet fragrance.

"I'm not going to let you face the world alone," you whisper, and Silco, despite himself, doesn't reply, but his hand rests gently on your back, as if letting the calmness finally take over him.

After a few seconds, his lips brush your forehead in a gesture so soft it surprises you. "You're foolish," he says, but there's no malice in his voice. Just a quiet acceptance of what's happening between the two of you.

You settle down beside him, and his hands wrap around your waist in a nearly protective manner, as if wanting to pull you even closer. At this moment, Silco, the man who’s always preferred to maintain distance, doesn’t need anything more than this simple gesture of closeness.

"Good night," you murmur softly, holding him just a little tighter.

"Good night," he replies, his voice gentler, before falling into silence. You both lie there, intertwined in the darkness, needing no more words. The world outside can wait; in this moment, it's just the two of you.

Mel

Mel sits on the bed, her back straight but her shoulders relaxed as she watches you prepare for the end of the day.

The day has been long, but now that you're together, everything seems to slow down, as if only this small space of peace exists. The sound of the wind seeps through the slightly open window, and for a moment, Mel allows herself to rest, away from the demands of the outside world.

"I owe you an apology," she says softly, as her fingers glide through her curly, voluminous hair, slightly messy from the day. "I had no idea how much being distant from all this was affecting you." Mel hasn't slept at home for days; she's been too busy with work and hadn't spent too much time with you lately.

The look in her eyes reflects a mix of vulnerability and gratitude, and even though Mel doesn't express it aloud, you know she's grateful for your presence. You know this is an important moment for her.

"Don't worry about that now. This is a good time to relax," you reply, smiling softly as you move closer to her. With a smile, Mel lets herself fall back onto the pillow, closing her eyes as if she can finally let go of that constant perfection she always maintains.

You sit next to her, silently taking a wide-toothed comb from the nearby table, specialized for curly hair. Mel stays still, trusting you completely as you take a strand of her thick, tightly curled hair. You begin to gently untangle it, careful not to damage her curls, every movement meticulous, an act of love and patience. The sound of small pulls is soft, and you can see how Mel closes her eyes in response to the touch.

"I'll never get tired of this," she murmurs, her tone relaxed as you let the comb pass slowly through the curls that, though naturally voluminous, are soft to the touch. Each strand seems to move with a life of its own, and the scent of her shampoo mixes with the calm of the atmosphere.

With each step, the tangles and knots unravel, and Mel seems to sink deeper into the tranquility of your movements, her breathing becoming slower and more relaxed. After a few minutes, her hair is completely free of knots, and you can see how her mane takes on its natural form, falling into thick, perfectly defined curls that cascade down her back softly.

"I love how you make me feel," she confesses quietly, turning her head toward you, her eyes shining with warmth that she doesn't always show the world.

"It's my pleasure, Miss Medarda," you reply, giving her a sincere smile as you continue brushing her hair. The intimacy of the situation doesn't escape you; it's not just a beauty ritual, but a gesture that shows how much she trusts you.

Once you're done brushing her hair, you take a scented cream from the table. With delicate hands, you begin to apply it to her shoulders, rubbing gently to relax each tense muscle. The sweet, floral scent of the cream mixes with the room's atmosphere, wrapping the space in a sense of warmth and softness. As you work, Mel's skin becomes even softer, and you feel the tension in her body start to dissipate.

"This is so perfect. I don't know what I'd do without you, without your magic hands," Mel whispers, letting out a low laugh, almost as if she's discovering the peace that only you can give her.

"You don't have to worry, neither I nor my magic hands are going anywhere," you reply gently, enjoying the moment. Mel's closeness, her trust in you, makes you feel like you're part of something deeply intimate.

Once you're finished with the cream, Mel settles back into the bed, and you follow, slipping under the sheets with her. The room remains enveloped in silence, but now there's a sense of comfort surrounding you. Mel snuggles next to you, her head resting on your chest as she settles into your arms.

"Thank you for all of this," she says softly, as if it's a whisper just for you. "Today was a long day, but with you, it feels much shorter."

"It's the least I can do," you reply, holding her a little tighter, seeking the warmth of her body. You both settle in the bed, with Mel wrapping her arm around your torso. You feel how her breathing becomes slower and deeper, as if she's letting go of all the weight she carries on her shoulders.

Sevika

The room was dimly lit, with the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains. The cool air in the room wasn’t enough to counter the heat radiating from Sevika. You found yourself tangled up with her, your naked bodies under the same blanket, but somehow, the quilt always ended up on Sevika's side, leaving you exposed to the cold air.

It was a routine that repeated itself. Sometimes, her carelessness when it came to sleeping made you smile, but this time, the cold started to seep into your bones. The breeze caressed your skin, and you curled up more, searching for warmth. But Sevika, unaware of your discomfort, stayed pressed to her side of the bed, invading your space with her large body.

As the minutes passed, the warmth of her skin became overwhelming. The weight of her body on top of yours, though pleasant, started to become too much, leaving little room to breathe. Her deep and steady breathing lulled you, but gradually, you realized the air was getting thicker and you were running out of space.

"Babe..." you murmured softly, trying to move her arm that was resting over you. She didn’t respond. "You're covering me completely... I can't breathe."

The only movement she made was a low sigh. She didn’t seem aware of how much she was crushing you. You raised your voice a little more, with a hint of complaint in your tone, pushing her shoulder.

"Sevika... seriously, you're suffocating me," you protested, trying unsuccessfully to push her away.

Finally, Sevika stretched and mumbled something incomprehensible in her sleep. The quilt had completely disappeared to her side, and you were trapped, frozen in the middle of the bed. Frustrated and with desire building up, you decided to push her more firmly.

Sevika finally woke up, her large body lifting slightly as her gaze focused on you. The spark in her eyes ignited instantly, and she moved toward you with a sideways grin that made it clear she had already noticed your discomfort.

"What's wrong? Complaining about something else, little one?" Her voice was low and rough, laced with a touch of teasing, but also something more.

You felt her body slowly slide toward you, as if she somehow knew exactly how to get you back under her control. Without much you could do to stop it, Sevika moved over you, her body perfectly fitting against yours, pressing you gently into the bed. The sensation was... contradictory, both uncomfortable and delicious.

"Does it bother you that I’m getting this close?" she murmured, her face so close to yours that you could feel her warm breath.

The weight of her body covered you completely, leaving you breathless and immobile. For a moment, all you could do was look at her, noticing the way her eyes sparkled with a glint of provocation.

"What are you going to do about it?" Her voice became a seductive whisper as one of her arms wrapped around you, pinning you in place.

Her size was imposing, but instead of overwhelming you, there was a sense of protection in her proximity. Even though you knew she was dominating you, you also felt an invisible connection between you both, a spark that intensified the desire to be closer, to explore that space you had created together.

Sevika tilted her head toward you, her breathing faster. However, she didn’t rush. Her gaze was fixed on yours, intense and confident, knowing she had you under her control but also savoring the tension you both had built.

"Are you tired of me kissing you every time you complain?" she asked with a teasing smile before slowly lowering herself to your lips.

The brush of her lips against yours was soft, almost as if she were testing you, but the desire between you both became undeniable. The intensity of her kiss grew as you clung to her, feeling her body surround you, confident and firm, but at the same time, incredibly tender.

As the kiss deepened, Sevika pulled back slightly, but her gaze never lost its intensity, direct and unwavering, as if she were exposing parts of you she had never seen before.

Finally, the cold seemed to vanish under the weight of her body, the heat of her presence filling you and burning under your skin. The blankets that had bothered you no longer mattered. The air seemed enough as the two of you submerged into the warmth of the night and each other's embrace, still carrying the lingering challenge between you both.

[erebus0dora]

some of you asked if you could print/chew/otherwise consume my Devil's Minion art, and i did ask if you needed a masterpost on the topic, so-

may i offer you this Google Drive folder, o gentle creatures..?

i'll add more, and i believe it's sensible to add the links to the original posts with these images, but frankly speaking i am chill with whatever way you use or share them if that's for your personal use

just keep them free, that's my only request

what was born as a free art should remain free art

any questions left? ask them, i don't bite unless you would really like that

now, have a peaceful day and my digital hug

💜UPDATE💜

it feels appropriate to make it a fully shaped masterpost, links and all, so... links to each and every artwork on the theme - below the cut

the Tarot cards (Hermit/Death)

"...rest" (but mirrored)

first take on Armand that looks like anime

some thoughts on the age of the magnolia tree

human!Daniel deliberately thinking of beautiful things

The Magnolia Tee Print

animated Daniel (literally, as in, a gif)

a very vampire!Daniel, thoroughly researched

Byzantine Icon Armand

a tender moment which is vague but there you go

sleeping Armand from a fic

hugs (the quiet)

more hugs (abrupt)

more hugs (headphones on, updated)

Daniel gently cleaning Armand's face

some extra somfte quiet gremlin

crack!chibi!Daniel on tees

crack!chibi!Daniel on teefs

sneaky sleepy uncertain hug for another fic

moar tender touch for another fic

beige pillow

the return of the beige pillow

"i see you"

kissing the maker's hand

more tender face-touching, couldn't choose one

Daniel comes to Louvre

Daniel collects art

four pages of Armand running and Daniel chasing

Hug The Gremlin

Hug The Gremlin For He Is Art

Armand as a candle, literally

Armand and magnolia petals (the art)

Armand and magnolia petals (the sculpture)

(slightly off-topic, but) Perforated Heart because ffs Eric knows his shit

good old don't you maître me thing which i keep forgetting to include

tbc🫀

Only Fangs Molloy - keep in mind there's a JPEG and a TIFF version in the Drive folder, the TIFF works better if u wanna print it

(+bonus TALK SHIT GET BIT file is also there)

A LOT of traditional stuffs, scanned in 350 dpi for your entertainment

[viennacherries]

okay hi sorry i need to talk about the lucanis romance for a moment and why i think it's absolutely perfect. spoilers below the cut ofc

so obviously there are a limited number of romance scenes. i really do believe in the case of lucanis' romance this lends itself to telling his story.

we learn through party banter with him and emmerich that his relationship with rook is his first. and that's not suprising really, he's an assassin. he faces death constantly and aside from the fact that he could die at any moment, being in a relationship gives his enemies a weak spot to exploit. love and the weakness required to accept and give it is a risk he cannot afford in his line of work.

then you add on the fact that he's been in the ossuary for a year. he was definitely sure he was never getting out of there. and then he does but he's possessed.

so here's rook. and they're flirting with him and being all enticing and he thinks they're great. but he doesn't deserve love and he certainly can't risk it. he's an abomination, he'll put them in danger. and what happens afterwards? when he goes back to taking contracts? it only takes pissing off the wrong person once for rook to be in danger. so he mostly just talks around it. tried not to think about it or aknowledge it.

and then spite breaks through for the second time. and there's rook. again. and they're soft and understanding and kind and they remind him that under everything else, all of the trauma and the fear, he's human. they make him feel so safe and he starts to let his walls down.

we can't know for sure why he pulls away in that moment, but i think it's because he reminds himself how dangerous it is for him and for rook. he wants them terribly but it's such an awful no good idea so he drags himself away.

but he still cares for them. he makes them dessert and he keeps them safe and eventually he has to admit to himself that they're not just friends anymore.

and then rook is taken into the fade by solas.

he never tells rook, you only find this out in a bellara romance, but rook is in the fade for weeks.

all that time, lucanis is there and he's just full of regret. because holy shit he's fallen in love with them and now they're gone and he should've just told them. he should've held them like he wanted. because now he can't and he never will again.

and then they're back.

and he comes into their room and his words are so simple.

"i never thought id see you again. i thought id lost you"

and obviously the rest of his dialogue can vary in this scene but all of it is SO weighted if you consider the fact that he really did think they were dead.

"i do. i know how to feel."

"it's one of the things i love about you"

"i'm not going anywhere."

he is in LOVE with them and he's tired of fighting it. he's tired of pretending he isn't. he's tired of denying himself of what he wants because he's scared. because ultimately he did lose them, despite how careful he'd been, and it hurt just the same.

"i know how to feel." because he DOES now.

so in the last battle, before you fight elgernan, he tells you again just how much he loves you. how he'll do anything he needs to to be back in your arms when it's over. because those weeks without you were torture and he never wants to do that again. he wasted all that time terrified to hurt you but you got hurt anyway. why keep pretending? why keep denying himself the person he wants more than anything in the world? he goes from 0-100 because this is so much more real now. there's so much to lose.

"i've assumed you knew my heart because it beats for you. it's been beating... when i wanted you. when i was afraid to want you... tell me this ends with me asleep in your arms and i will kill any god you ask."

this one sentence conveys EVERYTHING. all of his longing throughout the game. how long he has loved rook. he didn't say it because he was afraid. but he's not afraid anymore.

so much of lucanis' romance is about subtext. it's about the things he doesn't say rather than the things he does.

i think it's absolutely beautiful.

[notanactressyayy]

·˚ ₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 | natasha romanoff

. ݁₊ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 . it was a new era of her life. she no longer had missions or a team to rely on — only endless free time, and a bunch of thoughts that weren't really helpful. Natasha for once, had time to pick up her phone — something trivial. through the dating app Tony had dared her to install months ago, she meets somebody. finally, her heart was at peace.

. ݁₊ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — a TW for the photo editing thing. this may be a sensitive topic for some. lonely Nat, insecure Nat — she edits a picture of her body, swearing, oral (N receiving). lots of fluffy stuff, too. set after Civil War.

. ݁₊ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. this ended up SO MUCH longer than i initially planned. i put a lot of dedication into this so, yeah 🥹

thanks to my lovely @sunswish who helped me with the plot and the proofreading! ♡

The trailer was quiet, except for the faint rustle of the wind through the trees outside. Natasha sat at the small wooden table by the window, her knees pulled up to her chest, a steaming mug of tea resting untouched beside her. The Norwegian countryside was beautiful, vast and unassuming, but the stillness pressed down on her.

Her phone laid on the table, the screen dark. She stared at it for a moment, the faintest flicker of hesitation crossing her face. She’d never been good at this — being still, alone with her thoughts. For years, her life had been one constant motion: missions, battles, briefings, always moving forward because stopping meant thinking, having time to ponder about her life.

Her jaw tightened, and she looked out the window instead. What was she even doing?

She’d fought tooth and nail to become an Avenger, to carve out some sliver of redemption for herself, some sense of belonging in a world she’d spent so long working against. She’d believed in their cause, in their family, even when it meant trusting people with pieces of herself she hadn’t known she was capable of sharing.

And now? The Avengers were gone. Torn apart, like everything else she’d tried to build. She was a fugitive, hunted by the very government she’d once fought to protect. Her friends — her family — were scattered, some in hiding, some in prison. She was left with nothing but her name and a handful of private contractors who worked in the shadows. People she barely trusted, people who barely trusted her. Yet she still needed them for supplies, false documents, and a roof above her head. Funny, she thought.

She reached for her mug, her fingers curling around the warmth of the ceramic, though she didn’t take a sip. She had no mission now, no team to fall back on. No one to call when the silence became too much. She wasn’t sure if she missed the fights or the people more.

A faint vibration against the table snapped her from her thoughts. Her phone. She glanced down, the screen lighting up with a notification — some random email, one of these ‘no reply’ ones, nothing important. She hesitated, then picked it up anyway, her thumb hovering over the screen.

Scrolling through her phone felt… strange. Almost trivial. She opened Instagram, an app she barely used but kept around for the rare moments she wanted to feel tethered to something normal. The feed was full of snapshots of a life she didn’t recognize—vacations, dinners, smiling faces, people celebrating milestones she wouldn't ever have.

And right then, the name ‘Avengers’ didn’t make sense for her anymore. She was supposed to have this. This life where she would have a fun moment and think ‘oh, yes! i should absolutely shoot a pic and add to my stories’. After all, Natasha was just an unavenged girl, woman, human. A picture of a mother celebrating her daughter's birthday wasn't just one more picture showing on her feed. It was her dream.

She scrolled absently, her mind only half-engaged as her thumb flicked upward. Part of her wanted to throw the phone across the room and forget she’d ever picked it up. But another part—the quieter, lonelier part—held onto it like a lifeline.

She then receives another automatic notification. How has your love life been going? It took her a moment to remember what it was, and when she did, she let out a dry, humorless laugh.

The dating app.

She’d installed it months ago as a joke, because Tony had bet her she wouldn’t. She could still hear his voice in her head, teasing her. “Come on, Nat. You might actually meet someone who doesn’t want to kill you for once.” At the time, it was funny. She’d downloaded it, filled out the bare minimum of the profile, like: cat lover, captivating green eyes & martial arts enjoyer and promptly forgotten about it.

Her finger hovered over the icon now, her heart giving a strange, uncomfortable twirl in her chest. The idea of opening it felt absurd. What would she even say to someone? What would they see in her, beyond the scars and the lies and the mess she’d made of her life? That was made of her life? Could she even try and have a relationship? When throughout her life, she didn’t ever have a conversation about feelings? Clint was the closest attempt to that — he knew her past, more than the others, at least. So she spoke to him about things like that before. But he had a wife, kids, a home.

Natasha damned her heart every single day — for wanting a connection with somebody — for wanting to be somebody's, and for not being content with what she already has.

What does she even have?

She sighs deeply as she gathers a little bit of courage (that usually wasn't necessary when one was to open a simple app in their phone) and presses her thumb against the icon. Her eyebrows show a little frown as she realizes the app wasn’t open — she had held the icon for too long, making the options add to home and uninstall pop up on her screen.

“Goddammit,” she mutters to herself. Maybe she had done it on purpose. She considers choosing the second option. But her thumb, once again, hovers over the uninstall word for too long.

She was just confused. In conflict, with something so small. Although, she was braver than that.

“Let's just get over with this.” She mutters to herself as she finally opens the app — SparkMatch, she reads the name, for the first time. She lets out a scoff. Though the feeling of unease didn't take long before coming back to her. The about me section was completely empty, in exception for-

“Captivating green eyes. Cat lover.” she reads the words she had typed, aloud, cursing herself. It was what she had written in order to simply make the Iron Man laugh and leave her alone. “Great job, Romanoff. Truly irresistible.”

Scrolling down her profile, which was named only @Natasha1203— having in mind that her surname wasn't one to be openly shared — she finds the photos she had chosen, months ago, without really thinking much. Her gallery didn't have much cheering stuff. They were as nondescript as possible: a picture of a skyline she had taken while on the run. Her in sunglasses, her most common accessory. And.. a single closeup of her face, that felt too honest for comfort. She doesn’t know why she left that one there, for the world to stare at. Maybe it was the one moment where she caught herself looking like.. well, herself. If somebody squinted their eyes, they could see a small scar on her shoulder. She hoped people wouldn’t do that.

Summing up: the profile was a mess. And that was a perfect reflection of the person behind it. She doesn't make a move to edit any information — before remembering an important detail. It would be nice to change her profile's name, in case anybody (especially Tony, that was aware of this) tried to look for her.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203 was the new username.

Perfect. She does a little ‘tsk’ with her tongue, a little habit she developed when finishing a task.

Flirting was easy. She had been trained for it — trained in the art of seduction, molded into a woman that could slip into any persona, say the right words, touch in the right way, just to get what she needed. But this wasn't one of the spy programs she had access to in SHIELD. This wasn't about manipulation or information extracting. This was trivial. Normal.

Natasha browses through the app for a while. She stops in profiles of strangers that smiled back at her through their pictures — men, women, who were teachers, doctors, engineers. People with families and hobbies. Who had the chance to live a life without looking over their shoulders every second. Yet something about this.. gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. It was faint, but it was there. Knowing all these little details about random folks, she could find small pieces of herself in each one: some did ballet when they were little. Some had a scar due a kitchen accident. Some did karate simply for liking the sport. Some liked peanut butter sandwiches. She quietly giggles, her previous nervousness replaced by a silly feeling.

Maybe it wasn't that bad. It is not like a random person was gonna crawl out of her phone screen and have a date right then, anyway. And there was another ‘problem’. This app was still american, while she was in a whole new timezone.

What a relief.

She shifts on the small couch of her trailer, now laying down on it, allowing herself to get entertained with SparkMatch. She even found some profiles that were probably deactivated by now, seeing that they were created, like, a decade ago. She purposefully clicked on the small heart on them, meaning Match. She softly laughs.

But the sound is interrupted by herself as she finds a specific user.

It was a minimalist profile — elegant, even. It didn't say much about the person's personality: it said enough. It wasn't extravagant or absurd like some she had found. And it certainly wasn't a mess, like hers.

Y/n. 34. Not good at small talk, but I'm a good listener. A photographer, currently traveling around. Just someone who thinks the world is too big of a place to stay idle for too long. Currently: Norway

It was truly something else, compared to the live, laugh, love bios or the gym rats flashing their abs.

Her curiosity picks up, and soon enough, she sees a picture of them in Oslo.

And it was posted just three days ago.

So they were active in this app. But this wasn't what her mind grasped. Traveling in Norway. International trips usually didn’t last just three days, right? So that meant they were still there. There with her.

Out of all countries in the world, they were there?

She reads the bio again. Currently: Norway.

A strange shiver runs down her spine the more she thinks about the situation she found herself into. She bites on her lip, her stomach twirling almost painfully, like a school girl texting her crush. She was the Black Widow, for God's sake. She didn't get to go on silly dates and receive flowers.

No. This was too much. Without closing the app, she locks the screen of her phone again and drops it to the couch, quickly standing up and running her fingers through her hair. There were many reasons why this wouldn't work, especially when she was a fugitive and could get recognized, even in a small cafe.

Heading to the tiny kitchen, she opens a drawer on the countertop and grabs a bottle opener, opening the fridge and taking a beer out. She removes the cap and downs the bottle with no second thought, the bitter liquid ripping down her throat. Deeply breathing, shakily. Amidst the vast emptiness, not only of the place she was currently settled, but of her heart too, she fought back tears. The glass of the bottle clicks against the marble countertop as she places it down, her hands tightly gripping onto the edge of the furniture, holding herself up. It was a hard decision to make, whether to take this opportunity and keep it safe in her heart, or to let it go and pretend it never happened in the first place.

But she wouldn't be able to rest tonight knowing she simply did nothing about that special person the app charitably put into her hands. So, on this night, the unshatterable Natasha Romanoff did something she never thought she would. Before heading to bed, she picked up her phone again. Gladly, she didn't have to look for the profile once more. She simply had to press onto the small heart next to their picture. And she did.

The screen flashed: It's a match!

Natasha blinked in surprise, almost dumbfounded by this message. But this was meant to happen, right? Now, she could only hope that she would receive something in return by the morning.

It felt.. good. She had something to expect, a little flicker of hope that followed her even in her dreams, that made her feel better than she could ever imagine.

And this was just the start.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When the next day came, all of Natasha’s thoughts regarding the whirlwind of recent events were replaced by a single thing: that person. That New Yorker who was currently in Norway to take photos for a personal album. She initially wondered if she could really lower her guard like this and not think too much about Secretary Ross — who was still after her — but it was not like she would leave this trailer anytime soon. Thus, she needed a distraction, something to keep her brain entertained until this whole mess was over.

Talking to them was a relief — a solace she had been needing and didn't even know until now.

Talking to you.

Right away you had seen the match notification of SparkMatch, even if it was already one in the morning when it arrived. You sent this woman- Fanny? a message, and waited, but no response came until the next day. You wondered if she had impulsively pressed the match button and ran away from her phone out of nervousness. You actually imagined it, seeing the one picture of herself she published on her feed. Her profile was.. vague, to say at least, but she was incredibly beautiful, and indeed had captivating green eyes, like she boldly described herself. It made you smirk to your phone’s screen. No, genuinely smile.

It was pretty much clear that she wasn't a dating app person. And neither were you! You just had a better sense of organization than her, that's for sure. What if you two could really be a match?

As the day went on, you two engaged into a conversation that was surprisingly enjoyable for both sides. Opening the inbox chat, that could be found:

@Y/n: Good night. Is your real name Fanny Longbottom?

— eight hours later —

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Good morning! The first thing you ask a woman is if her name is real?

@Y/n: It just doesn't suit a beautiful redhead with captivating green eyes.

Natasha groaned to herself at this, laughing. The humor in the text was evident, and she loved that.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Right. It was a joke. You can call me.. Nat.

It was a glimpse of her name. It could be Natasha, Natalia, Natalie.. or all of these.

@Y/n: Nat.. that is better. Yet still very vague. Like your whole profile.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Perhaps my whole account here is a joke.

@Y/n: And we still matched. And sincerely, I'm intrigued. Intrigued and curious.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a dangerous thing to tell someone you just met.

@Y/n: Personally, I wouldn’t call a cat lover dangerous.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Will you stop mocking me for my irresistible biography or what?

It was an easy playful banter. It felt light. Not like these conversations where you had to directly ask the other person to be nice to you.

@Y/n: You just don’t strike me as someone who spends much time on dating apps. What brings you here?

With that, she debated whether to mention Tony’s dare or not. She could talk about it, but not for now. If she’s sincere, about how much she needed not to be alone anymore, this could lead to something good, more profound.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: I’m just trying something new. What about you? Norway seems kinda away from the rest of the world.

@Y/n: It is. But sometimes you have to go far to find what you’re looking for.

Natasha leaned back, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She didn’t know who you were, or why your words seemed to settle something in her chest, but for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she felt.. excited.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Have you found it?

@Y/n: Not yet. But I have a feeling I might be in the right place.

She stared at the message, her mind turning over the possibilities. She was already glad that this hadn’t started with “hey, you’re cute” or “what’s up?”, and now? It felt like she was in a dream — to find someone that shared her ideals, or that at least, thankfully, sounded like a mature adult.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Maybe Norway isn’t so bad after all.

@Y/n: So you’re also here!

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That seems like an excited message to me.

Gladly, her phone’s camera wasn’t capturing anything. Because she swore her eyes were sparkling right now.

@Y/n: Of course I’m excited, Nat. Now I have something else to think about other than shooting pictures.

Natasha stared at the reply, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of her phone. There was something disarming about your words — direct, yet not forceful. And the way you used her name so casually made her blush.

She hesitated, before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: What do you shoot? Other than clever replies, apparently.

@Y/n: Street photography. Portraits, mostly. But I’ve been known to dabble in the occasional cat picture. You know, for balance.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Balance is important. What would the world do with no cat pictures?

@Y/n: I shudder to imagine it. Speaking of balance.. would you let me buy you coffee sometime? Or would that be too much?

Her breath caught. You really didn’t waste time, did you? she thought. For a moment, her walls threatened to go up again — she could almost hear that little voice in the back of her mind telling her that this was not a good idea, that it wasn’t smart, safe.

But she silenced it. It was too soon, for sure — but she couldn’t knock it till she tried it.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That depends. Are you going back to New York in the next few days?

@Y/n: I don’t have a specific date to go back. So I guess it depends on how things go.

Yeah. Now she felt a little pressured. It was a dilemma, she could be the reason you stayed or left. Adrenaline coursed through her veins — that was determination.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: It’s not like I am going anywhere anytime soon, either. But.. I like to play hard to get sometimes. How about we wait and see how things go?

@Y/n: Hard to get, huh? Well, patience is a virtue. Let me know when you feel like stopping the chase.

And you two went on like that — talking about your favorite portraits, sending her some — receiving her compliments, which sounded way too genuine for your liking. It was casual, like talking to a friend. Natasha didn't take long to start feeling comfortable with texting you. If she weren't a spy without a private number, she would've asked for your WhatsApp. Or maybe she was just exaggerating. The thing was: she didn't have to wonder about how to answer you. Your way of having conversations was so nice that she didn't feel forced to text back.

And with these new discoveries, Natasha felt like she could be in this new country without feeling too out of place. She feared that in the end this would be just one momentary experience, one of the many personas she played.

But shockingly, for once, she didn’t feel like paying attention to her overthinking.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

Weeks had passed, and the nightly silence Natasha once dreaded was now filled with something else. Her phone screen, once cold and impersonal, had become an opening to something warmer. A new phase of her life. She never thought she would be so close to a mobile device before. Supersecret agents couldn’t have personal ones other than burner phones, it was risky — they could get hacked, tracked, recognized. She didn’t have a number, or an email with her name, bank accounts, or any sort of thing that could link her to the authorities. She only had TikTok, Instagram, some games like Candy Crush Saga and her newest best friend, SparkMatch.

Everyday, without fail, your conversations flowed effortlessly. You spoke about everything: Norway’s quiet beauty, silly anecdotes, and even the mundane things that somehow became meaningful when shared. She made herself get used to the habit of not thinking much. This wasn’t part of the plan — or rather, there was no plan. This constant connection grounded her in a way she didn’t fully understand.

Having someone willingly care about her, without having to ask, beg for it — she couldn’t understand.

This evening, after eating her exquisite caviar and drinking champagne, she settled onto her couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders. Her phone buzzed, and her mind involuntarily anticipated your witty reply, or question about her day.

Instead, a picture greeted her.

It wasn’t posed or staged — just you. mid-laugh, with a goofy expression that instantly betrayed your attempt to be serious. Your hair was a bit disheveled, and the lighting was off, but the image carried a kind of authenticity Natasha couldn’t let pass. The caption reads:

@Y/n: I don’t usually do selfies, but I figured you deserved to see what you’ve been stuck talking to all this time.

It was caring. You thought about her often enough to send a picture of yourself, doing absolutely nothing important.

Natasha softly blinked at the picture, completely still as her brain worked to process what she was looking at. It wasn’t just a picture. There was trust behind it, a hidden message. She couldn’t tell where you were getting at with this action — actually, she could. She just tried to convince herself of the contrary, afraid of putting her hopes up and screwing up afterwards.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Hi. I wasn’t expecting that.

@Y/n: Hi! How are you right now?

She bites her lip, incredulously chuckling. She was almost certain that this question was supposed to come before the picture.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Better.

She was feeling better, but not just that — she was feeling.. something. Something like.. seen. Like she was remembered by someone, like she existed, for once.

And those feelings stirred something even deeper within her.

The connection was becoming deeper — it was just now that she realized that the flirting which occurred every now and then wasn’t meaningless. It had a deep impact on her, in her soul — as a friend, as a person, and mostly.. as a woman. She needed it. She needed someone to like her, to pay attention to her, to see her — intimately, closely. Even better when this someone wasn’t a superficial person, and actually one who she related to and felt like she could share this dormant part of herself.

So she decides to share a picture, too.

She sits upright on the couch, the blanket falling and pooling around her hips as she opens the camera. She switches from the back camera to the frontal one, and takes a selfie. She was wearing a simple grey tank top, so her shoulders, collarbone and neck were on display. She wasn’t smiling smiling, just briefly, just enough to make a friendly expression. It was soft, tender. Unlike the deadly Black Widow.

Thankfully, for you, she didn’t have to be that.

So she presses send, laying back again and staring at the screen in anticipation — her eyes closely watching as the send mark changed into seen, that then turned into open. It stayed like that for a long while — like you were examining the picture and weren’t ashamed of it.

It gave her goosebumps.

The typing bubble appeared again after what felt like an eternity.

@Y/n: You’re beautiful, Nat.

It was a compliment you had already used on her. But this situation? Oh, it felt so, so different. You were talking about the simplicity, the domesticity of her in this closeup, the softness.

Fueling the fire that started to burn within her on this specific day.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Just a selfie.. don't get carried away. I'm hardly camera ready.

@Y/n: It's more than a selfie for me. It made my day. If that's not camera ready, I wonder how it'll be like when you try.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Would you like to see?

Oops. She didn't think before sending this one.

@Y/n: Hell, yes.

Her mind was immersed, totally consumed by the attention you were giving her — no jokes, no hints, just shameless flirting. Standing from the couch, she walks to her small bedroom, which was already dark, gladly — she closes her door, and slumps on her bed. Seduction was her nature, she couldn't control it. Though it wasn't necessarily a bad thing right now. Reaching her hand out, she turned on her yellow dim lamp, a gentle, warm glow casting her skin, making a better environment for the incoming picture.

She reopened the camera and adjusted herself in a comfortable position — knees pulled up, her left hand resting above her stomach as she held her phone with her right one above herself — taking the photo. There was auburn red hair all over the pillows, some strands framing her face perfectly. There was skin showing — a bit of her thighs, her arms, waist.. the curves of her body leaving room for imagination.

And something that she forgot about for the longest time.

The bullet scar above her left hip.

She stared at the photo on her screen, finger hovering over the "Send" button instinctively. The lighting was perfect, the pose effortless yet captivating. Her expression was soft, relaxed — but her pupils were darkened, a hint of the sinful emotions coursing through her body. But her eyes fell to the scar.

It was unavoidable, cutting through the smooth expanse of her pale skin like a brutal reminder. The bullet scar left by the Winter Soldier, a relic of her past life, stood out glaringly in the image. Her jaw clenched as a familiar wave of self-consciousness surged through her, a feeling she thought she had buried already.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the headboard as her thumb swiped to open the editing tools. It took her less than a minute to brush the scar away, leaving her skin unmarked, untouched. Natasha tilted her head, scrutinizing the result. The photo looked… perfect. Too perfect, perhaps, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on that.

With a deep breath, she pressed send.

Unlike your other conversations, she felt.. heavy. Like the instinct of having to show her perfect body in order to be liked was speaking louder than her rational side.

The message was delivered almost immediately, but the seconds felt drawn out, agonizingly long. When the "seen" indicator appeared, her heart raced. She bit the inside of her cheek, anticipating your response.

The reply came swiftly:

@Y/n: Wow. I’m speechless.

She smirked (bittersweetly), her thumb hesitating for only a moment before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a first. Usually, you always have something to say.

The typing bubble reappeared, and she waited, her heart thudding in her chest.

@Y/n: You make it hard to think, Nat.

Natasha felt warmth flood her cheeks, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Don’t let it go to your head.

@Y/n: I think it's too late for that.

For a moment, she wondered what you would have said if you’d seen the unedited version. Would you have found it ugly? Would you have pitied her? Or would you have admired her for wearing it like the badge of survival it was?

In her dreams, you would have worshiped it.

Before she could send anything else, you decided to take a shot on meeting her in person once again.

@Y/n: I'm sorry, I'll have to suggest. How about this: I'll find the best café within a 10-mile radius, and you can tell me if my photography is as good as my coffee recommendations.

Time passed, and the accusations against Natasha had toned down a bit. Maybe, just maybe, if she's careful enough, she can do this. The first date she'd have in what, a decade?

It was refreshing. And scary. But overall refreshing.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Deal. But I will be the judge in both.

The day and place was decided — it would be in Oslo, downtown — a café, where tons of people would be present. Natasha, growing up, became a master in blending in.

If fate decided to be on her side, this would be one of the best days of her life.

She tossed her phone onto the pillow beside her and laid back, staring at the ceiling. Her fingers brushed the scar again, tracing its jagged edges as if trying to understand its place in this new chapter of her life.

“Not everyone gets to see this side of me,” she murmured to herself.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if that was a warning or a promise.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

The café buzzed with the warmth of chatter, the soft clinking of ceramic mugs, and the occasional burst of laughter. It was tucked into a quiet corner of downtown Oslo, a place where the world felt comfortably distant yet close enough for her to disappear if necessary. Hours before, Natasha had dressed herself up — a burgundy dress, black tights, her usual black boots — and her jacket, of course. Her hair was naturally wavy, falling down her shoulders and back — and the makeup was simple. She wasn't a woman for makeup. But this time, she wore red lipstick and the faintest glitter eyeshadow.

She felt like a doll. It was stupid, a thing she liked to imagine how it would feel like back then — in the Red Room, where the girls wore black uniforms — grey sometimes, but always robotic, always calculated. It was a comforting feeling, which made her want to go back in time and tell little Natalia: yes! we are older now, and we are all dolled up for the date of our dreams.

Natasha arrived early — of course she did. She always did. She chose a seat by the window, her back to the wall, a vantage point where she could see everyone coming and going. Her heart wasn’t racing, but there was a slight tension in her chest. She sipped her coffee slowly, the warm bitterness grounding her as she kept an eye on the door. Then, you walked in.

Her doubting thoughts flew away the moment the green eyes landed on you.

She recognized you instantly. Your smile was smaller in person but somewhat warmer, more genuine. You scanned the room briefly before your eyes landed on her, and for a moment, Natasha thought she saw your breath catch. She softly smirks, gaze involuntarily daring.

Come and get me. This? Is all for you.

She shaked that thought away as she watched you approach her table — your clothes, your style, your body language — she scanned it all. The Black Widow wasn't an easy woman to conquer, which made her dump most of the people that tried to hit on her in the past. You were a rare exception, someone who didn't even have to try to make her heart race. It happened in it’s own.

“You made it,” Natasha said, standing to greet you, to give you a quick hug — the subtle press of your body against hers making her skin tingle. Damn it. She adjusted her dress before sitting back down. You did the same, sitting in front of her.

“Of course I did. This date was all I could think about,” you reply, eyes drinking her in, like she was the prettiest woman to exist. She truly was. “No. Let me rephrase. Seeing you was all I could think about.”

Natasha lets out a soft laugh, shifting her gaze towards the floor. She was so pale that the fact that she was blushing was, unfortunately, evident.

“Feels good to finally hear your voice,” she says, resting her chin on her hand as she stares at you. “In person. Not in audio messages or calls.”

After ordering pastries and more coffee for the both of you, the conversation flowed easily, from the usual mundane topics to little jokes that made Natasha chuckle softly. She found herself studying you more and more, the way you gestured when you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you laughed.

Eventually, the question came.

“So, what’s it like?” you asked, your voice gentle but curious. “Being an Avenger?”

Natasha paused, her fingers brushing the edge of her coffee cup. She had expected this, of course. She knew it would come up. She couldn't simply hide, not when her face had shown up on TV so many times. But if necessary, she would say that this wasn't what she wanted to be anymore. Not with you. She simply wanted to be herself around you, and not the superhero.

She wasn't Natasha who assaulted T'challa. Wasn’t the Sokovia Accords breaker. She hoped you knew by now.

“It’s… complicated,” she said after a moment, her tone measured. “Not as glamorous as it looks on TV, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You smiled. “I’m sure. But it’s still something, isn’t it? Saving the world, fighting alongside legends.”

A faint, nostalgic smile tugged at her lips. “It was something, yeah. But it wasn’t always about saving the world.” Her gaze softened as she thought back. “There was this time when Tony installed this AI in the kitchen — Friday’s cousin or something — to help us cook. It ended up burning everything it touched. Clint started calling it ‘Flamebot,’ and Steve…” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Steve tried to fix it, of course. Said it was ‘worth saving.’”

You laughed, and Natasha found herself smiling more openly. She was rambling.

“And Thor,” she continued, “he once mistook a microwave for some kind of… magical contraption. He tried to ‘summon its power’ with Mjolnir.”

“Did it work?” you teased.

Natasha smirked. “No, but we had to get a new microwave.”

The nostalgia warmed her, but it also left her feeling melancholic. She missed them. Not the missions or the battles, but the team — the messy, dysfunctional family they had become. You seemed to notice the shift in her mood and didn’t push further. Instead, you leaned in slightly, your voice soft.

“I can tell you miss them,” you said.

Natasha nodded, her walls lowering just a fraction. “Yeah. I do.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, realizing she needed some cheering up. This was supposed to be a happy day, not one to bring up sad memories. So you opened your bag, pulling out of it your camera — which made Natasha's eyes brighten up.

“You brought it!” she exclaims. “I almost forgot that you're a photographer,”

“I thought of the possibility of having to register this moment. And I was absolutely right. You look.. beautiful isn't enough to describe it,” you deeply sigh, as if surrendering to her, to this feeling of being completely in love. “Can I please take a picture of you?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “A picture of me?” she asked, her tone teasing. “You know that’s dangerous, right? What if you decide to sell it to the tabloids?”

You laughed softly, looking at her like a lovesick puppy, shaking your head. “I’m not interested in fame, Nat. Just in you.”

That made her pause, her smirk faltering for just a second. It wasn’t often she heard something so direct, so sincere. She tilted her head, studying you with those piercing green eyes, as if trying to gauge if you meant it.

“Alright,” she said finally, leaning back in her chair. “But only if it’s a good angle. No pressure.”

You grinned, lifting the camera and adjusting the settings with practiced ease. “No such thing as a bad angle with you.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but the blush dusting her cheeks just got worse. She straightened up, her posture relaxed yet commanding, exuding that natural grace and power.

“Like this?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her voice.

You brought your chair closer, lowering the camera for a moment. “No. Don’t pose,” you said quietly. “Just be yourself.”

That caught her off guard. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she shifted in her seat, unsure of what to do with herself for once.

“Be myself, huh?” she murmured.

You nodded, lifting the camera again. “Exactly. I don’t need the Black Widow. I want Nat.”

Her lips parted slightly at your words, and for a fleeting moment, the mask she wore every day seemed to slip. Her shoulders relaxed, her head tilted to the side, and a genuine, very shy smile spread across her face. “I-”

Before she could protest, the shutter clicked, capturing her in that rare, unguarded moment. “Perfect,” you murmured, lowering the camera and meeting her gaze.

Natasha shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Only the good kind,” you replied with a grin, setting the camera down.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand again as she studied you. “So, do I get to see it? Or are you keeping me in suspense?”

You turned the camera around, showing her the photo on the screen. Her expression softened as she took it in — the warmth in her eyes, the slight tilt of her head, the way the light framed her face, her rosy cheeks. It wasn’t just a picture. It was a glimpse of who she really was, beyond the layers of secrecy and survival. It was simply her, away from espionage, having coffee with her date.

Her unforgettable trip to Norway.

“It’s… good,” she said quietly, her voice almost hesitant.

“Good?” you ask. “It’s stunning. Just like my model.”

Oh, that…

The way you emphasized the word ‘my’.. the way you were making her feel.. actually precious. She was trapped.

“Alright,” she said, sitting back. “You’ve had your fun. Now tell me, do I at least get a copy?”

You laughed, nodding. “Of course. But only if you promise to go easy on me when I take more later.”

She smirks, her confidence returning. “We’ll see about that.”

As the evening wore, the sky showed a beautiful indigo, stars twinkling just like the sparkles in both of your sets of eyes. Natasha allowed herself to relax. To bask in this kind of normalcy that she never had the chance to experience. She had seen a lot, lived a lot. She knew what people could do in response to fear. She saw war and hatred, she saw coldness and cruelty. But from now on, she could live in a lighter way — like her heart was finally at peace.

“Should we get going?” you asked as the people also started to leave, standing and offering her a hand.

Natasha hesitated for half a second before taking it. Your touch was warm, steady, grounding, and promising. As you stepped outside, the cool air of Oslo wrapped around you. The city lights flickered like stars. Natasha felt a strange sense of calm. When she felt your arm enveloping her shoulders, her breath hitched, but she didn’t let it show — leaning into you gently.

“Where to now?” she asked, glancing at you.

“Well, the hotel, if you’re up for it,” you replied, your tone playful but not pushing.

That playfulness was a disguise for more surprises that awaited her back into the hotel room you were hosted in.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When you unlocked the door to the hotel you're staying in, Natasha followed you inside, her steps hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The space was warm and inviting, even if it wasn't a fixed place — especially after knowing you for a good while now — tons of polaroids laying across the bed, portraits, some funko pops that you bought recently. But what caught her attention almost immediately was the bouquet of flowers resting on the counter, tied together with a simple ribbon.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she turned to you, her lips parting in surprise. She didn't even have time to look around the place. “What’s this?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and vulnerability.

You stepped past her, picking up the bouquet and holding it out to her with a smile. “These are for you,” you said.

Natasha blinked, momentarily stunned. Her fingers brushed against yours as she took the bouquet, her touch delicate, as though the flowers were something precious. She examined them quietly — deep purple irises mingled with soft yellow sunflowers and a few sprigs of white heather.

“So you’re a hopeless romantic.. you didn’t take them to the café. What made you so sure I would come back to your place?”

You shrugged, leaning casually against the counter. “I wasn’t sure,” you admitted, meeting her gaze with an honesty that made her pause. “But I hoped you would. And, well, I wanted them to be a surprise. It felt more personal this way.”

Natasha glanced down at the flowers again, her fingers gently brushing over the petals. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

“I thought you were worth the effort,” you said simply, the sincerity in your voice making her blink rapidly, as though she was trying to process it.

Natasha smiled as she shook her head lightly, trying to dismiss the overwhelming feeling creeping up on her. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You chuckled, stepping closer. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She tilted her head, her green eyes studying you with a mixture of curiosity and warmth. “It is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to,” you interrupted softly, stepping closer. “You deserve something beautiful. Something that shows how incredible you are, even if you can’t always see it yourself.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The Avenger, the unshakable spy, was speechless.

Natasha turned to face you fully, the bouquet forgotten for a moment as she searched your face. It was almost desperate, how she tried to find reassurance, anything that told her that her past wasn't a problem. “You… you don’t even know the half of it,” she murmured.

“Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I want to. Every part of it, Nat. I want to know you.”

For a long moment, she just stared at you, as if trying to decide whether she could let her walls down one more time. Talking through an app was easier. In person felt way too serious. And then, with a deep, trembling breath, she set the bouquet back on the table and closed the distance between you.

She walked with determination, her chest lightly touching yours as her hands found their way to the back of your neck. Her fingernails softly scratched in between the hair strands. She didn't know what to say — she didn't want to say anything. In this very second, she simply wanted to feel. Feel what she never had the privilege to feel as the years passed, because yes, this felt like a privilege. She stood on her tiptoes to press herself closer, doe green eyes pleading.

They told you everything, and you didn't need to be passed the message twice. Your right hand cupped her cheek as the left one wrapped around her waist, bringing her even closer.

She was an angel. Not a deadly spy. A sweet angel to be taken care of. To have her needs satisfied and tears wiped away.

As Natasha felt you responding, she allowed her eyes to close.. basking in the darkness, wanting to be enveloped by this only one sensation. This soft, intense sensation of your lips against hers, moving in a way that wasn't rushed, but wasn't too deliberate either — your hands gripping her waist and bunching the fabric of her jacket, maneuvering her back against the counter. Holding onto your shoulders, she sat on the countertop, welcoming your body between her legs. The kiss lasted. She softly whimpered as she felt your tongue brushing against her bottom lip, asking for entrance, for more of her. And she allowed it. Her head tilted to the side, moving in sync with you — as your tongues danced, a dance she hadn’t discovered before.

Needing air, you pull away, foreheads resting against one another as you deeply inhale, messily. It was torture to stop kissing her, she was good. But air was necessary. Calming down, your arms circle her waist. A smile makes its way to your lips as you see the state she was in. Flushed. And…

“I think your lipstick is a little smudged,”

Natasha felt that — every nerve of her skin was burning, including the parts with the messy makeup. She lets out a huff of air and clears her throat, trying to find her voice so she could respond.

“That was…” she whispers, her hands cradling your jaw. “Wow,”

“You are ‘wow’,” you whisper, using your thumb to wipe away the red lipstick from the corners of her lips, fixing it. “You are perfect,”

“I'm not that- I'm not,” she nervously giggled, humming as you finished fixing her up. She shifted on the countertop, her legs pressing around your hips, as if afraid of you leaving.

“I wish I could give you my set of eyes,” your hands travel down to her thighs, feeling the slightly rough fabric of her tights, but that didn't make her skin any less smoother to the touch.

Her dress was basically all the way up her hips at this point, something she hadn't paid the necessary attention to, due being too busy making out with you — and in the pit of her stomach, a small flicker of panic started rising. This was reckless, so reckless. It is not like she didn’t think of the possibility of things escalating while coming back to the hotel with you, but in her head, she would have more control over the situation — and with that, manage to keep her secrets uncovered.

But she didn’t. Her body was reacting in its own and her mind was cloudy. She had zero control.

Before you could even touch the zipper of her dress, Natasha froze. Her breathing hitched — barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention, but you were. Her hands, which had been so confident just moments ago, trembled as they pressed gently against your chest.

“Wait,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if it might shatter if spoken any louder. “Just.. give me a second,” she muttered, avoiding your gaze as she detangled from your grasp, getting off the counter and hurrying to the bathroom.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the quiet room. Natasha leaned against the sink, gripping its edges so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her reflection stared back at her — flushed cheeks, wide eyes, red marks staining the corners of her lips.

Why did she have to choose a matte lipstick?

Her fingers brushed against her side, over the spot where the bullet scar lay. She had hidden it from you before, in that photo. It had seemed harmless at the time — a small deception to preserve the image of herself she wanted you to see. But now, in the raw intimacy of this moment, it felt like a betrayal.

She turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto her face in an attempt to calm the storm raging inside her. She couldn’t lose this moment — not to her own fears, not to a scar that was just one more piece of her long and painful past. But how could she explain it? How could she show you this part of her without ruining everything?

Natasha pressed her hands to her face, inhaling deeply. It’s just a scar, she told herself. It doesn’t define me. It doesn’t change who I am.

Except that it does. And a small tear rolls down her cheek.

You’re not in the Red Room anymore, she reminded herself, gripping the sink harder. And this person… they’re different. They don’t expect you to be perfect. They just want you.

The doubt, the fears that you managed to keep away from her in the past month, came back to her — only a thousand times more painful.

Regardless, Natasha didn't have any more time to think, before she heard the doorknob turning, the damn door she didn't lock opening. She kept her head low, her body stiff as she continued to hold onto the sink. You could see her reflection in the mirror clearly. The fact that she was silently shedding tears.

“You're crying,” you state quietly, taking baby steps towards her.

“And you're bold,” she chuckles, the sound a mixture of tears and sarcasm. She sniffles, using her arm to wipe her nose. “Entering like that.”

“You're crying.” you shake your head, once again standing face to face with her. You reach out your hands and cup her tear stained cheeks. “What's wrong?”

“I…” she debated what to tell you. That she was afraid of physical intimacy since she was young? Or that she hid a crucial thing about her body all this time? “I don't know-”

“You’re hiding something from me and are afraid I’m gonna hate you?” you inquire, voice serious — not mocking, not pressuring.

What?

Her eyes go wide instantly, the tears stopping. You wipe them away from her cheeks, expression softening again as you prepared to explain yourself. “You’re part of a New Yorker superheroes team. There was absolutely nothing that spoke about your personality in SparkMatch, which is expected, Nat. I’m aware that there’s a lot that I don’t know about you. I know where I’m getting myself into.”

“For the longest time, all I wanted was company. Someone to talk to, to listen to me, and that I could listen to them. Someone to see me,” she quietly confesses, leaning her cheeks into your palms. “You did just that. You’re that person.. you filled a huge void in me. You saved me in more ways that you could ever know.”

“I’m so grateful for that.” you lean closer, pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead. She shyly wrapped her arms around your waist, her eyes searching yours once more.

“It’s not just that…” she adds, her breath hitching. She was now determined to continue from where you left off on the entrance counter. “I longed- I long for.. touches, and..”

“And closeness,” you complete, head dipping down and tucking itself into the crook of her neck. “Geez, you smell delicious,”

“It’s… Twilly D’Hermès,” breathless, Natasha speaks, a small hint of pride in her tone as she spoke about her moisturizing cream. “My body lotion,”

It wasn’t cheap, but she liked to spoil herself sometimes. It was also great to deal with the constant bruises and cuts on her skin. Your brows raise in surprise, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips. Natasha could feel the warmth of your breath on her neck, a surge of happiness and ecstasy washing over her.

“That’s.. pretty luxurious, one can say.”

“Can’t a woman spoil herself sometimes?” she retorts — interrupted by a gasp that left her as your lips pressed against her neck. Her eyes flutter shut, her hands holding onto your arms as she did her best to keep talking. “B-Besides, years of bruises and burns require good skincare.”

“I see,” you hum, nuzzling into her, into the spot behind her ear. She felt soft today. Now you knew the reason. After staying like that for a while, you pull back, looking into her eyes with a gaze that showed admiration, respect and concern towards her comfort. “Can I?”

She deeply inhales, feeling you reach for her dress again — only more mindfully now. Shrugging her jacket off her shoulders, she places it next to her on the sink and nods.

She was prepared for the question.

“Okay, hold on.” you kneel down, beginning to untie her boots, catching her by surprise. You remove them and place them aside, before slowly pulling down her tights. “Damn. Why did you have to wear something so complicated?”

“I wanted to feel beautiful,” she quietly chuckles, allowing you to get rid of the excessive fabric on her body.

So, it's time for the dress. You got up to your feet and slid your palm up her spine, holding onto the zipper and then pulling it down. Natasha was expectant, self aware, but mainly, consumed by her desire — finally awake again.

“I'll make you feel beautiful,” you nod, pushing the dress straps off her shoulders and sliding them down her arms.

“You already do.” She breathes.

She doesn't stop you from getting her off the dress. But when it stops below her hips, she tenses up. That's because she sees you freezing. To look at her. It's strange, to have someone look at her body with no apparent emotion. You didn't look at her as if she were a prize to win — an object, or a weapon. Helping her step off the dress, you toss it aside on the floor. Now nothing was disturbing you from taking her in. Her black underwear. Her toned muscles — which you assumed were from years of workout. And her scars. Cuts, a few small keloids, and the bullet scar.

“You didn’t have to hide this from me.” you breathe, dropping to your knees once more as you held her by the hips. She found herself leaning against the sink’s counter, breathing ragged, every nerve of her body buzzing in anticipation. “Makes you even more gorgeous.”

“I—”

“You're fucking gorgeous.” you hiss, kissing above the place that once had a bullet in.

Yup. Her dreams came true.

“Please,” she murmurs, not knowing how to vocalize what she wanted. But the heat pooling between her thighs told you everything.

Your lips make a path from her hip down to her pelvic bone, right hand grabbing her thigh and putting it on your shoulder — coaxing a gasp out of her. Your palm covers her scar, as though it were something precious about herself — making her feel safe, above everything. Natasha, for a moment, almost lost her balance — having to hold her weight with one foot — as your pointer finger hooked around the soaked fabric of her panties, pulling it to the side. You gave her one look. One look before diving in.

You are no longer alone.

She took the message. And her world exploded.

Your tongue working on her — licking past her folds, tasting her — as if committing to memory, and not just using her — her slender fingers tangling into your hair, pulling your head closer to her core, soft moans leaving her mouth as if there was no tomorrow.

“Yes,” She gasps, her hips bucking, seeking more of the kitten licks you showered her clitoris with. “Don't stop.”

None of her sexual experiences had been good in the past — not in the slightest. So having something so good, so pleasuring — it was truly her first.

In the Norwegian hotel, Natasha was more Avenged than she ever was with the Avengers. In the end of the night, she ended up with you on the bed — your clothes making each other company on the floor, as she lost herself — in your body, your scent, your hands on her,

and your love for her.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

You were tucked under the covers when the bathroom's door opened — the hot steam of her recent shower now dispersing and mingling with the air. You sat up, leaning against the headboard as you watched her with a smile.

Natasha walked towards you, the white hotel's towel in her hands, drying her damp hair. She was wearing a t-shirt you lent her, which was probably three times her size. She was smiling. Happily.

Before climbing back onto the bed, she absentmindedly placed the wet towel on an armchair. She gently settled onto your lap, straddling your hips, her head instantly nesting on your shoulder.

“Hi, baby.” you embrace her.

“If I have to leave the country, for any reasons,” she says, her hands tracing random patterns on your back. “Will you come with me?”

“I'll go anywhere with you.” you reply, voice unwavering.

She released the air she didn't know she was holding, and allows herself to relax her sore body. She nuzzled closer as you played with her still damp hair.

Maybe dating apps weren't so bad, after all. If she ever saw her team or Tony again, she would thank him for making her install it.

“Oh, and by the way,”

Natasha whispers, finally. Probably, you were aware. But it was one more thing about her true self she wanted you to know.

“My name is Natalia.”

[hor3nee]

• Life •

Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.

CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Sukuna x Reader

AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic

   Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.

And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.

To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.

The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.

Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.

Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.

Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.

"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.

"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.

"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.

"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.

Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.

Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.

But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.

"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.

"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.

"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.

That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.

His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.

"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.