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moonchildstyles · 13 days

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would Élan!Harry ever get jealous with (Y/N)? Seeing as to how they don't make their relationship public (yet!), people would still definitely hit on her, so how would he deal with that?

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"One more?"

Harry's lips grew into a lopsided smile at (Y/N)'s request. It would never lose its shine, would it?

"One more, but I don't want to be the one in trouble for your lipstick this time," he conditioned with a raised brow.

"Okay, fine," (Y/N) answered right away, waving his terms off with a fluttering hand, "Just one more before we have to go inside."

Pressing his lips to her own perfectly painted pair, Harry was determined to keep it light and fleeting, knowing that there were cameras lurking just up ahead. It wouldn't be a good look for either of them to emerge from the back of this SUV with (Y/N)'s lipstick smeared and the remnants on Harry's own mouth.

Of course, his determination hinged on just how well behaved (Y/N) was going to be. Which, as he'd learned through the course of their tabloid facade, wasn't something that happened often. It was her that deepened the kiss with a tip of her head, fitting his bottom lip between her two.

How was he supposed to say no to that?

She knew he'd given in as soon as he felt the faint curl of her lips against his, a smug victory smile.

Though, her victory didn't last much longer than that.

The ever patient—and discreet—man he was, Sully knocked on the partition as a warning that they were quickly approaching the venue of the night's party. It was Harry who had to have the power to pull away first, leaving (Y/N) with a puffed pout and only slightly smudged lipstick. He didn't even want to think about how much of the red was now painted over his own mouth.

"Don’t give me that look," he told her, swiping a thumb over a smudge just under her bottom lip.

His command only garnered him a set of narrowed eyes to go along with her pout. "I don't even want to be here tonight, why can't we go home?"

"Because," he said, canting his head as she did the same, "Y'told Francesca you'd be here tonight, and I know y'wouldn't leave her by herself."

"She'll make friends," she huffed, though Harry knew he'd won her over as soon as she turned away in search of the compact in her purse.

"It's gonna be alright, darling," he told her, slinging an arm around her shoulders as she clicked open her mirrors and touched up her lipstick, "We'll go home early if y'really want."

"I do really want," she petulantly mumbled, cleaning up the slight smudging outside of the line of her mouth. "H, you messed up my lipstick."

That was enough to have him throwing his head back with a laugh.

By the time Sully had pulled up to the entrance of the high-rise the party was taking place at, (Y/N) had primed her appearance and put on her socialite facade. Harry had sat at her side, being her anchor as she centered herself and let the side of her personality that loved cameras and attention take over.

"Ready?" he'd murmured once they pulled up to the entrance of the building.

She chirped out and Mh-hm a small smile on her lips. "Ready to be my bodyguard?"

"If y'can behave," he countered, sliding his arm off of her shoulders once he saw the first flashes of the camera aimed at the SUV.

"We'll see," she smiled just before sliding down the leather seats and pushing the door open.

Harry had no choice but to follow after her, shaking his head just before stepping out into the flashing lights with her. Schooling his features, he slipped on his own facade. Despite what the tabloids wrote and the blurry photos supposedly circulating online, when they stepped in public, Harry was her bodyguard. Especially when it comes to parties like this.

He'd be her lover later, he had to make sure she was safe first.

The entrance wasn't packed with photographers, but there were still enough people for Harry to hover just behind her. He'd learned his lesson well while in Paris that summer—it didn't matter just how few paparazzi were following her, it only took one to push the limits.

She kept her head down when the few waiting outside the event started talking to her, speaking over one another with calls of her name. None of them acted particularly invasive, speaking rudely to her or invading her space, especially seeing as there wasn't anything particularly scandalous circulating about her at the moment. Nonetheless, while (Y/N) politely smiled and kept her space, Harry was the intimidating presence behind her that reminded others just how important it was for them to keep their distance.

Following as her quiet shadow, Harry kept his hands to himself as they were escorted to the penthouse floor for the party. If not for the attendant in the lift, he may have attempted to get one more touch of her skin against his, though he instead settled for a sidelong glance that had her lips tipping into a small smile.

When the doors opened directly to the penthouse space, Harry tipped his head, gesturing for (Y/N) to go first. She thanked the attendant with a quiet thank you before she stepped into the fluttering party.

It was a decidedly more low-key event compared to the many that (Y/N) frequented, most of the attendants having spilled out towards the open air patio. The rest of the space was full of modern, minimalist decor. Walls were made of glass panelling, everything coming in different shades of cream and nude, manicured greenery being placed throughout the space in an attempt to make it look more lived in than it most likely was. Staff traipsed through the space with trays of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of bubbly alcohol.

"Do you see Fran anywhere?" (Y/N) murmured, her fingers joining into a fumbling bundle at her middle.

Continuing his scan over the crowd, Harry stuffed his own hands into his pockets to keep from plucking (Y/N)'s up in an attempt to soothe her. "Not yet. Do y'know if she's here yet?"

"I don't know, she hasn't texted me since before we left." At that, (Y/N) pulled out her phone, most likely pulling up Francesca's shared location. Her expression fell at whatever she saw on her screen. "She hasn't even left her apartment yet."

"That's alright," he told her, keeping his voice low, "She'll be here soon. Do y'want a drink?"

Just as she opened her mouth to give an answer, (Y/N) was interrupted by a voice Harry didn’t recognize. Though plenty of strangers approached her while they were out and about, especially at events such as this, it still put him on edge. Peering around the perfect style of (Y/N)'s hair, he found a man with dark hair and grown in facial hair approaching her. He was inches shorter than Harry, but with the way the group he'd drifted away from admired him, he could have been seven feet tall.

"Hi," (Y/N) politely answered. Harry didn't have to see her expression to be able to picture the neutral set to her mouth and the practiced light in her eyes.

"Sorry," the man said, voice accented with lilting vowels and an undulating melody. His eyes never strayed from (Y/N). "I don't mean to interrupt, I was just hoping I'd run into you while I was in the city. I'm Luca."

"Oh, no worries," she answered, just as perfectly pleasant as always, "Nice to meet you."

Harry watched on as she reached out a manicured hand for him to shake, only for Luca to bring her hand to his lips and press a kiss to her knuckle.

His hands in his pockets clenched.

This was the downside to keeping their relationship on the down low—everyone loved to assume she was available for the taking.

"Nice to meet you as well," Luca drawled, looking at (Y/N) through a fan of dark lashes. It was with a sudden glance in his direction that Luca seemed to realize she hadn't been standing off by herself. "Excuse me, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm Luca."

With a clenched jaw, Harry offered his own greeting, reciprocating Luca's outstretched hand for no other reason than to ensure he wouldn't let it wander back towards (Y/N).

"Nice to meet you," Harry said, voice a bit stifled as he assessed the man before him.

"Are you—uh—a friend of (Y/N)'s?" Luca asked, taking a step back with his hand giving a slight flex before settling it into his pocket. The action had Harry's lips quirking into a small smile; it was entirely intentional just how tight his handshake was, but he would never admit that.

"I'm her bodyguard."

It was always with that statement that Harry had assessing eyes tracing over his form, taking stock of who he was as if his merits for his profession were painted on his clothing or tattooed on his arms.

"I bet she keeps you busy then, this one," Luca attempted to tease as if he knew anything at all about he or (Y/N).

Before Harry could manage to snip out his own reply, (Y/N) took over. "Luca, have we met before? Sorry, if I've forgotten—I have the worst memory," she laughed, "You look familiar."

That seemed to be just the question Luca had been waiting for, a dazzling smile settling on his features. "Ah, well," he started, suddenly—deceptively—bashful with his eyes dropping to his feet, "I am an F1 driver—for Ferrari, actually. You may have seen one of my races."

Harry had to make a point to keep from rolling his eyes.

"Oh wow," (Y/N) bubbled, perfect persona in place, "That's really cool! I have a friend who really enjoys that kind of thing, so maybe I've seen you on T.V."

"Yeah?" he chirped, decidedly more willing to talk about his profession now that (Y/N) may be familiar with him, "I was just in Las Vegas for a race a couple of weeks ago. Have you ever been before?"

Harry had to tune him out then, instead opting to look for Francesca through the new faces that had entered since being huddled in the corner with Luca The F1 Driver. Slipping into bodyguard mode, he only heard the polite mumblings of the conversation at his side, attempting to provide (Y/N) with as much privacy he could manage.

"Right, H?" (Y/N) asked, suddenly pulling him back into the moment from where he'd zoned out pretending to look for Francesca.

"Hm?" he hummed, blinking back into reality to find (Y/N) looking at him with Luca seemingly unimpressed with his inclusion. The thought had a lopsided smile touching at the corner of his lips.

"We're going to be in Milan next month, right?"

"Yes, from the ninth to the seventeenth. Why?" His question was aimed at Luca, forcing him to pay attention to him.

His smile looked especially pasted on this time when he matched Harry's attention. "I was just telling (Y/N) that I'll be racing again in Monza next month. Perhaps, you can catch the race while you're out there?"

"Maybe," (Y/N) answered noncommittally, "I'd have to check in and see what we have planned, and Harry usually has to—"

"No need to worry about that," Luca interjected, "I have a box you could spend the time in—I doubt you'll need any security up there."

A tick appeared in Harry's jaw, hinging it tighter. To be fair, it wasn't the most blatant attempt to get him out of the way he'd ever heard before, but it was certainly an attempt.

It was (Y/N) that had shrugged her shoulders, piping up first before Harry had a chance. "Oh, no," she waved Luca off with a polite smile, "Harry would be coming with me anyway."

At that, Harry could spot a small crack forming in Luca's facade. (Y/N) wasn't quite playing into whatever he had been hoping for when he meandered over to her.

"You just let me know, then," Luca settled on, features schooled into perfection though he did stray a glance towards Harry. "Sorry, I'm being so rude—can I get you a drink, (Y/N)?"

It took (Y/N) only a split second thought before she was jumping on the opportunity. "Yes, please, actually! Anything sweet works for me."

When (Y/N) made a move to pull out her phone, her own quiet way of dismissing Luca to the bar, Harry had to keep his features from showing his amusement. She had casually turned to face Harry, giving her back to the bar Luca had disappeared to.

With her eyes still low, she murmured, "Is he far enough away?"

"Mhm."

Looking up at him with wide eyes, she whispered, "Oh my god, is he being annoying or am I just in a bad mood?"

The exasperation in her tone was enough to have Harry letting out a chime of laughter. "No, he's definitely being annoying. Did y'really recognize him, or were y'jus' saying that?"

"Kind of," she waved off, whatever app on her phone taking a backseat for the moment, "I half-watched a race one time with Toriana but that's it. I just wanted him to stop talking to you."

"Of course, Fran had to be late today, right?" Harry joked, sharing a small smile with her before noticing Luca on his way back with bubbling drinks in hand.

"Seriously," (Y/N) sighed before spinning on her heel to face Luca once more. "Thank you so much!"

Now knowing how (Y/N) truly felt about her companion, Harry had to make a point to keep his amusement from touching his face when listening to the way she forced herself to pep up for him. It was interesting to him now, just how different it had been in the beginning, how difficult it had been for him to spot those differences in her personas—the split between who she truly was and who she hid behind. Now, all he needed to hear was the inflection of her voice, the arch of her spine, the gesticulating of her hands, and he could tell just where her comfort was sitting.

Luca's voice became a mumbling of monotone syllables to him, nothing to pay attention to as Harry observed the party and the patrons. He kept an ear out for (Y/N), ensuring she wasn't in need of him, though he had to make a point to keep from laughing at the sound of her faux-giggles between sips of sugary alcohol.

Though he wasn't a fan of hearing others hit on his girlfriend, it was rather funny to hear just how clueless they were to her disinterest when it was so clear to his own ears.

Of course, until Luca put his hands on her.

It was slow, the way he'd grown closer to her after noticing Harry had averted his attention some. He took small steps, shifting his weight and leaning in as if he couldn't hear her over the low music playing. Once he deemed himself close enough, Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, his hand landing on the small of her back, sliding around to settle on the curve of her waist as if he wasn't clearly flinching away.

A too loud laugh filtered from her mouth then, enough to have Harry's attention sharpening and pinning on the interaction.

As casually as possible, (Y/N) attempted to step out of Luca's grip. Though it didn't appear that he caught the hint with the way he shifted towards her once more, closing the gap she'd opened.

There was a moment, with the sight of his hand on her waist, fingertips dipping into the folds of her dress as they curled to the line of her body, that Harry wondered just how many grainy videos and opinionated essays would be posted if he stepped in and pushed Luca away.

He'd bet it would be more than either he or (Y/N) would care to see.

It was when (Y/N) looked at him over her shoulder, a fleeting glance, one that could have easily been mistaken for a flip of her hair, that Harry stepped in. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, greedily pulling her away from Luca's grip.

"Francesca's here," he murmured, voice just loud enough for Luca to clue into the fact that his time with (Y/N) was over.

Spinning to face him, (Y/N) looked to him with relief in her eyes. "Really?" she bubbled, glancing back at Luca for a moment though she was already heading into Harry's arms, "It was nice talking to you, Luca!"

Harry almost wanted to gloat when he saw how Luca stuttered over himself, absently reaching out as (Y/N) slipped through his fingers.

"Oh—Um—Let me know about Monza, yeah? I'd love to see you again before I leave the city, maybe tom—"

"I'm really busy this week, but maybe! I'll see about Monza and have Harry reach out!"

It was with that final remark, that (Y/N) began leading the charge away from Luca and the corner he'd huddled her into. Harry followed after her, shifting his arm until he had his palm on her bicep.

"Thank god," (Y/N) sighed once they were far enough away, "Did you hear him?"

"I tried not to," Harry murmured, guiding her through the throngs of people, slowing when unfamiliar faces said greetings in passing, "What did he say?"

(Y/N) shook her head. "I know more about his racing stats than I think I know about myself."

Typical, Harry figured. Of course, once the veil was lifted, would Luca leave the shy act behind to boast about his job in hopes of impressing (Y/N).

"'M not surprised," he said, just before (Y/N) changed their course.

Instead of following the line of the bar and those gathered in the living area, she turned them towards a hallway branching off the main room. It was decidedly quieter than where the party was.

"Do you think there's a bathroom down here?" (Y/N) muttered, scanning her eyes down the few doors lining the hall, "I want to hide for a second."

It was (Y/N)'s request—that she wanted to hide away after speaking to Luca—that had him trying his hand at his own exploration. Even if he didn't hide a restroom, he would find somewhere quiet for his girl to decompress.

On a whim, he reached towards the handle of a passing door. Pushing it open, a pristine bathroom sat inside. Convenient.

Gently pulling her over the threshold first, Harry made a point to take a look around, intending to catch if anyone had wandering eyes that had landed on them. Though he couldn't be sure no one had caught them stealing away together, at least no one was watching as they went into the bathroom together.

Setting her drink on the counter, (Y/N) sat on the edge of an elaborate tub with a heaving sigh. Her shoulders settled down, sloping downwards as she looked up at the ceiling for a second.

"I don't know if I've been that annoyed since Paris," she muttered, rolling her neck.

A small smile settled on Harry's lips then. Leaning against the marbled countertop, he crossed his arms over his chest as he gazed at her. "Maybe we should've stayed home, hm?"

"I told you so," she countered, looking to him with amusement in her eyes. "How much do you wanna bet that Fran hasn't even left the house yet?"

He watched as she pulled out her phone from her purse, checking through whatever tabs she had open before he unfurled from where he was leaning against the counter. Crossing the pristine tiles under his feet, he crouched in front of where (Y/N) was huddled on the edge of the tub.

Placing a hand carefully on the bone of her ankle, he whispered to her despite already being alone in the space. "Y'alright?"

"Yeah," she sighed, slowing her tapping on her phone before she dropped her phone to rest on her lap, "He was just annoying—he wasn't, like... scaring me or anything."

"Good, good," he murmured, stroking his thumb over the curve of her leg.

"Are you okay?" she prodded, settling her hand on his cheek.

Leaning into her touch without a second thought, he shuttered his eyes in a lingering blink. "'M okay. I don't know why, but it was hard to watch him—or listen to him."

She tossed him a shrewd glance. "Yeah? You didn't like watching him ask me out?"

He shook his head, cheeks stretching around his growing grin. "I didn't, actually. It actually made me a little angry. I wanted to punch him when he touched you."

"Really?!" she bubbled, a plume of laughter falling from her lips, "I didn't think you could get jealous! You're always so calm!"

"Was I jealous?" he prodded, tugging on her leg in a teasing pull, "Is that what happened?"

"It sounds like it! You wanted to hit him?" she asked again, leaning towards him with a conspiratorial gleam to her eyes.

"Maybe," he mused, "If he'd done anything to upset you, I might have. He was already annoying enough."

There had to have been something in his answer that she enjoyed seeing as she pressed forward and sealed her mouth to his. He smiled into the contact for a moment, dimples in his cheeks before melting into her touch. Slotting his lips to hers, it was (Y/N) that deepened the kiss with a trace of her tongue over the pillows of his lips.

The sounds of their lips parting and coming together filtered through the bathroom as Harry reached towards her hand on his face, wrapping his fingers around the fine bones of her wrist. It was when he scraped his teeth over the full of her bottom lip, a small nip, that she parted her crossed legs and drew him between her thighs.

He was hyper aware of the party going on outside the door, and the fact that this was the apartment of someone he'd never met before, but at the same time Harry didn't care.

If she liked seeing him jealous this much, he wasn't going to stop her.

At the movement of her legs, her phone was tossed to the floor, landing on a bathmat at her feet. Neither had acknowledged the thump, until it started vibrating with a call.

(Y/N) reluctantly pulled away with a sigh, resting her forehead on his. "It's Fran, isn't it?"

"Probably," he muttered, blindly reaching for her phone before handing it off.

Harry only had to see the way she pulled in a long breath, an affectionate roll of her eyes, before she pressed the device to her ear that told him their suspicions were right.

"Hello?" she answered, drifting her hand from his cheek to card through her hair.

Getting only one side of the conversation, Harry had to put the pieces together while watching the expressions that crossed her face. As far as he could tell, Francesca was especially amusing today.

"Yes, we're here," (Y/N) continued, nodding along to whatever Fran was bubbling about. "Yes, me and Harry... No, she's not here—as far as I've seen anyway... When are you going to get here?.. We'll still be here; we're just in the bathroom right now." She paused just before a peal of laughter rang through the room, her nails grazing over his scalp. (The touch had a certain shiver streaking down his spine). "No! We're hiding from some F1 guy that keeps inviting us to some race next month... If you want, you can go instead. I don't know if he has a yacht, but I'm sure you could convince him."

Gazing up at her from where he sat before her, Harry felt his own lips curving into a lopsided smile. He loved seeing her stripped down like this; she'd told him more than once that he was one of the only people he was able to vulnerable and herself around, but he'd seen just how young she was around Francesca. He could see glimpses of who she was before he'd met her, the girl who'd been around before cameras were documenting her every move.

It had his heart rattling against his ribs.

With his wandering head, Harry hadn't realized she'd ended her call until she hung up the phone and placed both of her hands on his cheeks.

"Do you know how many times I've wished I could be in your head?" she told him, a small smile to her lips, "I just want to know what you're thinking—you're so hard to read."

"'S you," he said, sincerity rivaling the lighthearted tone to her voice,"'S always you."

She looked at him with amusement in her eyes, the same way she always did when he said something adoring: as if she didn't believe him, instead waiting for the joke to land.

He could do nothing other than surge forward and press his lips to hers. He'd always been better at showing than telling her how he felt.

—————

thank u sm to whoever requested and for everyone who read to this point! so sorry for any mistakes, and please let me know if you have any fun ideas of your own:)

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slippinninque · 12 days

Text

🫣🍑Private Dancer🍑🫣

Or: You discover another half to the secret you thought you were keeping

Fontaine x blackfemreader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, cursing, use of the n-word, mentions of smoking/weed, P-in-V, mentions of insecurity, long fic

Truth was, you were a secret shaker.

A tentative twerker. An apprehensive ass-thrower. Your waist whined when being perceived directly and not in a good way. Not only did you decline to throw ass in public, you will also turn away any offers to catch it.

You learned chorography to your favorite sounds, bounced around your living room as you folded clothes. Recorded dance challenges and deleted them a few hours later. You were your very own Stallion behind closed doors.

When you were alone, though...

It took only a handful of awkward encounters and an asshole ex-boyfriend suggesting you 'stand to the side' for you to be determined to find your rhythm.

Looking up tips online and went to any beginner's classes you could find in the area. Ballroom, salsa, the pole--it all helped you understand your body outside of what it looked like. It was about what you trained it to do, what you wanted it to do.

Investing in a really good floor length mirror was the last puzzle piece you needed to really find your beat. From there on, you and the mirror were lovers.

Only your small circle of friends knew. That was thanks to enough years of trust and tequila, leading to wild nights at house parties with the radio cranked high.

You eventually learned that it was nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like it kept you away from fun or being included in the antics. If you went out with the ladies, you hyped them and kept a cute lil' two step. You held the title of Camerawoman with pride and your background cackles were famous in the group chat.

The booty wouldn't boogie with anyone else around and it's been that way for years.

It was your own little secret. No one had to know everything and you babbled enough as it was. If anyone cared to stare hard enough to a deserted, dark corner of the house--then maybe they could catch a glimpse.

The sway-snap of your hips, falling beautifully with every beat that you heard. How your hair gleamed, the way your smile swelled with the change of the songs.

Your entire body sang a song.

At least, that's what Fontaine thought when he first spotted you.

Of course you never knew he saw you. Even after the reciprocated confessions and hot-n-heavy honeymoon phase, you thought you went unseen.

Fontaine took your secret for his own, delighting in your shadow shows on the rare occasions you came out to play.

Fontaine could wait and if you had to feel alone to feel secure, then so be it. He used his admiration and desire to touch you, to be a proper witness.

Just being near you was more then enough, it would have been ungrateful to be so greedy.

------

You screamed when you saw him standing there.

The earbuds went off into the wilds of the kitchen, one skittering beneath the fridge.

Fontaine's eyes were popped wide but didn't seem remorseful for scaring your soul to the heavens.

"I thought you heard me when I came in." Fontaine hung up his keys before going in search of your earbuds. You watched after him, mortified.

You were just really into organizing the lower pantry. Lost in shaking your ass with one hand braced on the red potatoes and the other searching for the brown potatoes to put them back in their proper spot.

When you turned to grab the few 'taters that eacaped, you saw your man standing a few feet away from you with his arms crossed and head tilted.

How long has he been here?

Oh god, you have never danced for him. You have never danced in front of him--you weren't even serious. There wasn't a problem with you shimmying to the beat in his lap at a function or waving from your hips up while riding in the car to some jams.

This was different.

"Hey, hey--whatcha curling up for? C'mon now, I already know you can move."

"It-- that, um, I-I'm not that good, so, y'know..."

Fontaine pocketed your traumatized earbuds and kissed your hands until you inched them away enough for him to see your worried gaze. He tutted quietly, taking your hands into his and kissing your knuckles.

"What matters to me is what makes you feel good, baby." His voice rolled into a purr as he continued, "Lucky me that you look so fine when you do."

You wriggled as your shyness battled against the excitement of having Fontaine looking at you the way he was.

"So I don't look.... awkward? Do I have enough stuff to make it look good?"

"Wasn't nothing awkward 'bout how you were throwin' that, trust me."

Fontaine's hands went down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass. His palms were warm and wide as he kneaded, bringing you even closer to him as you went to your tiptoes. He hooked his chin over your shoulder with a happy little him, distracted by you but only for only a moment more.

"Hold up, whatchu mean by 'enough stuff' ?"

You shrugged and decided not to answer. The truth of past insecurities felt redundant and you rather liked the way Fontaine was making you feel at the moment.

Fontaine grunted, giving you another squeeze before pulling back a bit to look into you square in the eyes.

"Look here-- I'm in love with all this right here, so I'm rockin' with you regardless of what you can make it do. Don't matter if you think you ain't got enough, shit, it's enough fo', me. Understand?"

His words worked out the few kinks in your heart, aches you grown used to and ignored when they flared. You nodded more confidently and only then did Fontaine lighten his hold on you, nodding back.

No telling how long Fontaine was standing there and if you never turned around-- you would have been none the wiser. How many times has he been there? Letting you have yourself, taking only a moment for himself as he had that smile on his face.

It was the same smile he had when he took away the shea butter to rub you down himself. Or similar to the smirk on his face when following after you to the bedroom after you talked a bit too much shit.

Your shoulders dropped as you fully relaxed into his hold. The burning embarrassment in your stomach churned into smooth, seamless and leaving you suddenly eager.

"So, tell me what a nigga gotta do to get a private dance from yo' pretty self?"

His hands helped themselves to another handful, this time spreading to touch between your legs. There was promise in his eyes and you knew you only needed to say yes.

You twist away from him enough to pluck your phone from the counter, sliding through a few songs before settling on something with drums and bass. The speakers pulsed and you began backing Fontaine out of the kitchen and into the living room.

He let you push him to sit in the recliner and he made an appreciative sound at the way you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. It evolved, going deeper until you pulled away with a protesting noise from Fontaine.

"That's the only touching you gonna get from me right now."

"Oh, word?"

"You're going to distract me enough as it is." You said, stepping away from him and stretching your arms over your head.

"Bold as hell to call me a distraction." Fontaine's brows rose as he leaned back to make himself comfortable, "Lookin' at me with them eyes..."

His eyes hooked onto your hips. You stretched, teasingly bending over and holding onto your ankles as you gave a cute lil' shake, looking over your shoulder coyly .

"What can I use to look if it ain't my eyes?" You asked, "How am I supposed to see you?"

"Don't worry 'bout what you see back here, act like a nigga ain't even here."

"Oh, that's impossible now. You still make me feel so shy..."

Fontaine snorted and your gave a giddy smile in return.

What you wore was actually perfect. Tiny shorts and cami, perfect for when you were bounding around to clean house. Just what you needed for you to do a little Bend n' Snap for your man.

The music changed and you looked over at him in surprise, he held your phone but watched you with a mischief. Reaching for the little, polka dotted stash jar you left on the coffee table to pull out a blunt to wag at you.

"Go on, show me what you got fo' me."

Waiting until he fired up, you sauntered closer and tied up the front of your already teeny tank. Fontaine's eyes honed in to your nipples, distracted as he took a drag. When his fingers crooked, you leaned in enough and pursed your lips.

Fontaine blew a strong stream that you breathed in and held. You held as long as you could before releasing the smoke a final time into the air.

Fontaine's blunts were no-nonsense, where he still rolled with leaves rather than the papers you preferred. It felt like a straight shot to the head, the smoke lifting all the chatter in your mind to leave you swirling in electric eagerness.

Without further ado, you showed him what you could do.

Your hands braced on your knees, clasped above your head, went down to touch your toes. You rolled your stomach and snapped your hips mouthing the words to Fontaine as you fully felt yourself. You extended your arms and tried to be as dramatically sexy as possible. Touching all of Fontaine's favorite places yourself, pushing up your breast and skimming your hand between your legs for him to see.

Fontaine was a chaotic DJ as he flipped through your playlist. He went from instrumentals filled with nothing but baselines and adlibs, to Glorilla to Megan Thee Stallion to Trina. Whistling at every peek of cheek and nip, calling out to see the 'pretty lady' when you coyly fanned your legs at him from the floor.

When you got down on your hands and knees, you felt a smack against your cheeks hard enough to snap your illusion. You leaned onto your forearms, ass up in the air, and broke into laughter as more bills rained down. It was like a confetti canon was let off or someone hit the Golden Button for you.

"That felt personal." You said over your shoulder at where Fontaine sent another fan of bills into the air, "You tryin' to tell me something?"

"Yeah--to bring that ass over here so I can get my hands on you," Fontaine patted his thigh, "Thought this was gonna be a lap dance..."

"Private does not mean lap." You sniffed. Honestly, you weren't sure because you've never been to a strip club but with the way he was throwing bills--the living room was cosplaying as a VIP section at King of Diamonds.

You took your time in coming closer, wondering if you could skip on singles before Fontaine snatched you right up when you were close enough.

"This is too much! When did you even have time to take out all these damn dollars?"

"I been waiting on this, baby. Shit, I woulda threw gold if it ain't' hurt..."

You laughed and looked around at the singles carpeting your floor in disbelief, it's like you had a new rug installed! There were dollars all overt the coffee table and even some fluttered over to coat the entertainment center. Was there a dollar up in the light fixture? Was that a fire hazard?

Fontaine's teeth nipped at your earlobe, turning your next remark into soft moan. His hand ran up to cup your neck, breathing you in with a hungry hum.

His voice was all smoke and honey, "This is all well an' good, but I think I'm feeling a certain type of way..."

"Is it the horny way?"

Your cheekiness got you mean little pinch to your sensitive nipples. Jolting only pushed you closer to his greedy hands. It was his turn to touch. He plucked and twisted your nipples, making you mewl and melt into his touch. You ground down into his lap where you felt he needed you most, making him sigh into your ear.

"Gonna be the death of me, ain't ya?" Fontaine husked, "Here lies 'Taine, bust so hard he went on to glory. He leaves everything to his pretty-booty havin' lady."

"What if I promise to shake somethin' on your grave, would that be better--no biting!"

Fontaine growled something into the mouthful of shoulder he had, shaking his head gently and making you squeal and scrunch up to try and escape.

Still warm from being in the spotlight of Fontaine's attention and the pulsing music, your head swam with delight. It felt like victory. You turned and kissed at the side of his face before your lips met.

When your grinding became more insistent, Fontaine leaned back with his lip caught between his teeth.

Allowing yourself to be admired and seen was like nothing else. Fontaine has always shown nothing but devotion to you but you still felt like he was...just being nice. You were holding yourself back from assumed disappointment but this whole time he's been waiting on you.

Talk about blocking your blessings...

"That's what I'm talkin' about. Show me how you feel."

You looked over you shoulder, holding his hands against your breast as you rode in his lap. Fontaine hissed, one of his hands quickly escaped to clasp around your hips to grind up into you.

Leaning forward enough on your hands, your delicates went directly in his face as you tugged at his pant leg pointedly. Fontaine ignored your impatience and ran a hand over you, from between your shoulders down to the backs of your thighs.

You could hear him popping the button on his jeans and the rattle of his belt.

"How bad you want it, pretty?"

"Bad, real bad."

"'Do anything fo' it' bad?"

" 'Let you do anything to me' bad."

It happened fast after that, Fontaine righted you in his lap enough for him to press into your pussy. The stretch dropped your mouth open and Fontaine groaned at how wet you already were.

LOW started and you bounced to the beat, grinning dopily up at the ceiling at the feel of him hitting all your good spots. Your shorts provided a wonderful friction against your clit from how Fontaine shoved the fabric aside to let himself in.

It felt so naughty. To fuck on Fontaine like you were starved for him to the music rattling your walls. The thrill twisted with desire in your stomach, hurtling you faster and faster to your peek.

Suddenly more bills rained down and paired with Fontaine's laugh, more lust than amusement--it pushed you over the edge.

"Thta's it, I feel you, g'on and get yo' shit. Can't believe yo' pretty ass was shy..."

Fontaine took over. A bruising grip onto your hips, tipped you back into his chest as he thrust up into you in earnest.

"Puttin' that shit on me heavy, acting like you don't know what you do to me." Fontaine found a few singles that were being crumpled between you and pressed them to your dewy, lower back.

"Shieet, looks better than money. Wish you can see as much as yo' ass feel it, fuck." He gave your ass slap, you called out as you came. It felt like fire shot through you, leaving you reaching for any bit of him to clutch.

Between the music still going and Fontaine handling you so well, the sensations left you gasping. Legs burning and head filled with needy thoughts, you protested when Fontaine stopped your bouncing and maneuvered you until he slid free.

"Oh, show ain't over yet--you feel me?"

You did. Fontaine was heavy and hot where he tapped all over your ass, leaving kisses of wet spots. It filled you with a flash of pride or maybe even possessiveness. Craining your neck, you did you best to get a glimpse but Fontaine hand cupped your neck licked the shell of your ear.

"Yeah, that's you gettin' all over me. Tryna make me messy just how you like it, huh?"

He hissed when you writhed in his lap, ghost riding his dick until he gave you a little push to stand. Your mouth dropped open to whine but Fontaine turned you towards the middle of the room.

"Show me how you want it."

Fontaine held himself tight at the base, his lips lax enough for his gold to wink in the lamp light.

As gracefully as you could--you went down onto your knees before lying back to put your legs in the air. You rolled over in the blanket of dollars, wriggling down your shorts to one ankle until you could flick them away.

Fontaine grinned down at you, kneeling to slot his palm into the arch of your foot, his other hand stroking himself.

Fontaine moved your other thigh to the side around his hip, leaving you spread completely. You were still working, still giving him a show, but you couldn't bear to keep your hands off of him.

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, eyes fixed to where his dick bumped against your mound.

"Prettiest thing touchin' soil and you think it ain't enough..."

"Hurry up, Mr. Lapdance--the show ends when the music does."

When you hand ran under his shirt, Fontaine tugged it over his head swiftly and much to your delight. The sight of his broad chest and delicious skin made you all the more impatient.

Fontaine's eyes flashed.

The image formed in your mind was electric. Pretending to be a little Stallion and running into a hungry handed, greedy eyed Fontaine in low strobe lights.

"You lucky we ain't meet like that. D'you wanna know what I would do if you showed out like that on a pole?

Not knowing just what he had in store for you as you led him to the privacy booths--intent on earning his attention.

When you licked your lips, Fontaine groaned softly, you smiled at him.

What's another little secret?

Pressing into your heat, Fontaine grumbled something about Home Depot.

"I did take a few classes, if you ever wanna see ahn--!"

Drunk on pleasure, you could only cry out as Fontaine chased his thoughts out loud. The change in position, with him looming above you muttering filthy promises--it was too much for you.

"Shouldn't have told me that, now I gotta put a stage in here somewhere in this bitch..."

"O-Oh fuck, 'Taine!"

He froze to watch your eyes roll close as you shook apart beneath him with a sob. Fontaine lowered himself to bracket you between his forearms to kiss you, swallowing your moans. His hips snapped, lost rhythm and then he was coming with satisfied growl.

That was it. You were dead. Your very soul leaked onto his thighs and the carpet below.

'Here lies me, twerked too close to the sun...'

Fontaine releases a heavy, satisfied hum into your ear as he finally collapsed onto you. It should have been stifling and your knew your legs would be useless for the next while, but all you could do was grin at the feel of the dollar bill stuck to his shoulder.

What a way to go....

------

When the playlist finally ended, the silence found you both covered in sweat and dollar bills. Fontaine rubbed a loc of your hair between his fingers and you rested your eyes--head on his shoulder. Your hand wandering aimlessly across his chest as you began to doze.

He tugged gently to get your attention, "Want you to do me a favor."

"Mn. If it involves moving, you gotta pay me."

Fontaine snorted and flicked away the bill stuck to the thigh you've strewn across him. You shrugged a shoulder with a lifted brow, you got me there.

He continued, "If you can help it...I'd like for you not to hide from me anymore."

The change in his tone had you searching for his gaze and of course it was already on you. Fontaine took your hand in his, turning yours until he held it in his open palm.

"I...okay. I can do that for you."

You weren't ready to talk about the past and trying to make sense of your complicated feelings of being perceived. Something told you that it wasn't the time, maybe it was you hiding again, but at least Fontaine took your words earnestly.

He kissed your hand once, twice before leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he went back to playing with your locs.

"Oouf you are terrible." You hid your face into his neck, "But once my legs come back online, you're in trouble."

"Good..and no more watchin' Baddies. Watching them girls fucks wit' your disposition," Fontaine reached for a handful of bills to sprinkle all over you, "You wanna be a Stallion? Lemme know and I'll give you a ride."

Fontaine patted your ass, "Can't threaten me with good troubles, baby."

-----------

ending notes: thank you so much for reading! It's a long one but the idea wouldn't leave me alone! Might need some tweaking and editing since it's another Before Work Drop lmao! Please tell me what you think and what other things I should try, don't be shy! Comment and reblog please! 💕🥰💜

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @miyuhpapayuh @cardierreh15 @mcondance @thadelightfulone@mag1calenchantr3ss@cocoeffects@wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached@thadelightfulone@hobiesmain@thickeeparker@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina

(Added a more after some slight revisions 🫣)

#fontaine x black reader #fontaine x reader #Fontaine x you #x black reader #they cloned tyrone #They Cloned Tyrone fic #fontaine #john boyega #Fontaine x blackfemreader #Fontaine x black fem reader #they cloned tyrone fic

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Note

So for the Untouched AU have you thought about any of these scenarios? Film themselves having sex, using whipped cream or chocolate, try getting tied up (either one of them but y/n would be my choice), give y/n a nipple-only orgasm, role playing, try edging, order a sex toy online after they search the site for things they wanna try together, tease each other all week with sexting during class, sending pics/videos to each other. I know. Just a few thoughts…🙄

18+

Bucky x f reader (Steve's sister, if you’re like me, add the caveat of being an adopted sister)

Sex tapes with our Untouched babies? The answer to this is hell yes. These babies are learning everything together. Nudes. Edging. Sex tapes included. Can be read as a standalone.

Warnings: Smutty smut, fluffy fluff, shy reader, sending nudes, sex tapes

The first nudes

It started off with a few sexy pics.

He’d send you a pic of him in his grey sweats after the gym. There’s no way to hide his boner, the outline of his cock straining against the fabric.

Shirtless pics.

Fresh out the shower, towel hanging low pics.

He didn't want to pressure you to send anything so he doesn’t even ask, happy to tease and tempt you instead. Quite honestly he regretted sending you anything in the first place because the second you sent him something with a little extra cleavage he had to hold his school bag against his lap to contain his boner.

The first time he sent you nudes was after he’d spent the whole day struggling to keep his hands to himself after you’d paraded around the house in a tiny sundress. He’d come over to play video games, gritting his teeth each time you came over to you brothers room to bring up their pizza and drinks, petting his hair on your way out. He couldn’t focus on a damn thing, his mind clouded with your bare thighs and the glance he got of your tiny panties from where he was sitting, only coming to his senses when Steve threw the controller at his head.

At least keep it in your goddamn pants when I’m around punk

As soon as he was home, he pulled his pants off, grabbing his phone, showing off his leaking cock, throbbing, the tip glistening without him touching himself.

My Bucky: See what you do to me?

Babydoll: OMG BUCKY 🙈

My Bucky: It’s fucking leaking sweets, fuck I need you

Babydoll: Serves you right, perving all day 🙄

M Bucky: You’re the one who teased me, come make it go away 🥺️

You giggled, your face heating up, feeling a little frisky, butterflies erupting around your tummy when he sent you another pic, this time with his balls, legs spread. You pulled your dress up, pulling your panties to the side, giving him the perfect view of your glistening cunt, your heart racing after you hit send.

Babydoll: Take care of me first

My Bucky: God Damn.

My Bucky: Fuck babydoll

My Bucky: Not fair, let me come over doll, please?

5 minutes later

My Bucky: I’m outside.

That started it. Bucky didn’t hesitate to show you exactly what you did to him and how hard he was, always ready to show you exactly how turned on he was for you. Study room. His car. Bed. It was fine until he’d nearly gotten caught twice, always scrambling to yank his pants back up, the tell tale blush on his face giving him away.

“Bucky had his dick out again”

“For fucks sake Barnes”

“You’re both something else, I swear”

“This is why we call you Bucknasty”

“You nasty hoe”

“Shut up Sam”

Your nudes drove Bucky feral and he’d nearly came in his pants the first time you sent him something in lingerie. He whimpered as soon as he opened the message, struggling not to palm himself, his eyes nearly crossing seeing you encased beautifully in the dark lace, the sheer material hardly covering your nipples and your perfect cunt. He may or may not have left class to rub one out, but it didn’t do much, his cock continued to twitch until he had you spread out on his bed. Your nudes are precious gold to him and he treasures every single one with his life. His beautiful doll in her bare form, all just for him.

The first time edging

“Sweet girl, please?”

“You’re pretty when you beg baby”

You were on top of Bucky, winding your hips down on him, watching his beautiful fucked out face, his skin flushed, lip chewed from how hard he was focusing. He had a bruising grip on your thighs, his cock throbbing from how badly he wanted to cum. You had made him hold it, bringing him close to the edge only to stop his orgasm right at the tip, his cock swollen and desperate.

“F-fuck, I can’t y/n” He nearly sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut. You felt your stomach clench, watching his perfect face contort, his brows furrowed, trying so hard to force himself from cumming. “Baby, s’too much, I wanna cum, let me cum, I can’t hold it”

“Y-yes you can” You continued to bounce on his cock, your high pitched whines making it harder for him to hold off his orgasm. You’d been curious about edging for a while, wanting to give Bucky the most intense pleasure of his life, not realizing it’d be just as amazing for you. Your slick dripped all over his crotch, his balls covered in your arousal.

“C’mon, I know you wanna cum, let’s cum together baby, please” He pleaded with you, choking at the way your pussy squeezed and fluttered around him, your own orgasm waiting to snap. You whimpered, gasping when he snaked his hand to play with your clit, a pornographic moan slipping from your lip as he rubbed perfect circles.

“Does that feel good doll? You gonna cum with me?”

“FUCK BUCKY” You gave into the pleasure he toyed with, your muscles tensed as he started to fuck up into you from underneath, his cock growing harder. “I-shit-

“Let go with me doll, cum with me, I got you” Bucky grabbed your hips, slamming you down onto his cock while he thrusted upwards, his back nearly arching off the bed. You moaned, your body giving way and falling limp, letting him pound from underneath you, the sounds of skin slapping growing louder.

“I’m gonna cum Bucky!” You started to flutter around his cock, your juices soaked him again as you came on his cock. Bucky let out a strained moan feeling you squeeze him, his pace growing sloppy as he pushed in as deep as he could.

“Fuckffuck thankyouthankyou, oh god, gonna c- AH FUCKKK” Bucky wrapped his arms around you, stilling as he cock throbbed, cum pumping into your pussy while he whined and whimpered under you. He refused to move afterwards, keeping his cock warm inside you while you both cuddled under his sheets, his face buried into the crook of your neck.

“Bubba, you have to pull out at some point” You giggled, playing with his hair while he shook his head, keeping his flushed face hidden.

“Sensitive” He whispered, staying inside your warmth, a new idea coming to mind, “We should try rope next time”

The first time using rope

“You sure you okay with this bubba?” Bucky checked the ties again, making sure they were comfortable around your wrists, his thumb stroking your cheek while you looked up at him with love and adoration. No matter what it was he wanted to do, your comfort had always come first.

That being said, something about having you tied up had made Bucky extra feral. He loved the way you trusted him, your pretty doe eyes shying away from him while you were bare in his bed.

“You-you look so pretty tied up like this for me baby” Bucky whispered, kissing your lips sweetly while you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together, your clit throbbing. You felt a shiver, naked on his bed while he still had his clothes on, admiring your pretty form as if you were a present just for him.

He stripped his clothes off while keeping his eyes locked with yours, crawling onto the bed and tossing your legs apart, licking his lips before kissing your inner thigh.

“Gonna let me play with this pretty pussy baby?” Bucky didn’t waste a second, his tongue laving and drinking every bit of your sweetness, loving the way your squirmed each time he flicked at your clit.

“Fuck Bucky!” Your back bowed off the bed as he latched onto your clit, suckling, practically nursing off you, moaning as he kept his lips sealed around your sensitive bud. He pulled away from you, untying the rope, just to manhandle you and shove your face into the mattress with your ass in the air. You yelped, feeling his hand spank your ass, grabbing both hands and tying them again, holding onto your wrists as leverage as he brought his cock to your entrance.

“Scream for me baby” He gave you a wolfish grin, glancing at the mirror that was off to the side of the bed, the more you squirmed, the more his cock leaked. “Can’t run from my cock now so take it” He shoved his cock into you, pounding into you, letting his balls hit your clit with each thrust, grunting and groaning.

“S’too much” Your eyes rolled back, the coil in your belly winding tighter as he pressed his hand to your shoulder blades making his cock his deeper. You cried out, your pussy squelching, your juices making a mess on his thighs. “I’m gonna cum Bucky, pleasee-”

“Fuck, you gonna cum without me even touching you baby? Don’t even need me to rub that pretty pearl of yours, you gonna cum just from my cock fucking you? You can take it baby, you’re my good girl” Bucky’s voice was low, nearly breathless, his cock throbbing, reeling over how the rope felt as he held onto your tied hands, his perfect beautiful doll, helplessly crying over his cock. “Hold it baby, fuckin’ hold it”

“Wanna cum James, p-please, wanna cum” You couldn’t even hold it any more, your pussy already starting to flutter. Your moans were muffled against the sheets, your trembling body a sign you were close.

“Together, jus-jus’ fuckin hold it sweets, that’s it, my good girl, my good fuckin’ girl, m’gonna fill you up okay?” Bucky rubbed up and down your spine, his head thrown back. “Gonna make you feel so good, give you all the cum you want babydoll, cum now baby, cum right fucking now!”

“Give me your cum James” You cried out, your orgasm ripping through you right on his command. Your pussy was desperate to milk every drop of his cum, squeezing and pulsing around him making it harder for him to move.

“Oh fuck, you have no idea, I’m gonna give it to you doll, gonna give you so much, so much, SO FUCKING MUCH FUCK-” Bucky slammed into you, grabbing your hips and holding still as his cock throbbed, desperately moaning as he filled you up. He untied your wrists, still panting and sensitive from his climax, pulling you up to cuddle up with him.

“Did I do good Bucky” You mumbled against him, your face buried in his chest, nearly falling asleep instantly at his ministrations.

“Did so good for me my angel, so perfect” He stroked your hair, kissing your face while you nuzzled against him, his hands gently massaging the indents of the rope of your wrists. “My perfect good girl”

The first sex tape

Bucky can't help himself, wanting to capture some of those intimate moments with you for just his viewing pleasure. It didn’t matter if he was making soft love to you or railing the fuck out of you, he wanted to go back to every single moment and capture how perfect you were for him, how perfect you looked together. He wanted to see how gorgeous you looked when you were filled up with his cock, how your pretty face contorted with pleasure with him deep inside you.

You knew he wanted something when he spent the whole day being needy, trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

“Wanna make a sex tape with you” He whispered, his cheeks blushing.

"Buckyyy" You covered your face when he brought it up, your cheeks heating up at the idea; you weren’t against it but you still felt self conscious. Bucky pulled you into his lap, cupping your cheek to make you look at him, kissing you before speaking again.

"Promise no one else will see it sweets, we won't do it if you're no comfortable with it though" He smiled softly and you knew he meant it. Not once had he ever pressured you into doing something you didn't like.

He waited for the day where you felt comfortable. His whole body buzzed with anticipation, noting that you were much more shy, staying curled up in bed, trying to cover yourself up. Bucky propped his phone up, letting it rest on the dresser while he crawled into bed, draping his body over yours, keeping you covered.

“You sure you okay with this pretty baby?” He whispered, his nose gently bumping against yours. You felt your face heat up, nodding and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I’m sure”

“Can-can I eat you out first?”

Your eyes grew wide for a moment before you said yes, your breath hitching in your throat as he slowly trailed kisses down your body, starting at your neck, stopping to take your nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around, nipping them before continuing down. His broad shoulders still kept you partially covered, his sculpted ass flexing as he grinded against the mattress, moaning as soon as his tongue tasted your slick. He came back up, crashing his lips against yours letting you taste yourself, moaning when he felt your legs come to wrap around his waist.

“How do you want it baby” His cock brushed against your pussy, the tip leaking, “You want it soft or hard?”

“Soft please” You whispered, biting your lip as he smiled, kissing your forehead while lining his cock up, rubbing the tip, letting it catch your hole. His eyes rolled back feeling you fluttering already, his whole body keeping you covered. You relaxed under his body weight, gasping as he filled you up, your pussy fluttering over the roll of his hips. You whimpered, trying to keep your moans down, your nails scratching down his back instead, pleasure overwhelming you.

“Let me hear you sweet girl” He whispered, trailing kisses down your neck, sucking the sensitive flesh, coaxing a whine out of you. “You sound so beautiful when you moan for my cock baby” You couldn’t help but cry out for him as he sped his thrusts up, bringing his knee up, his cock rubbing and kissing that sensitive spot deep inside you.

“Jamesss” You were finding it harder and harder to silence yourself, soft moans starting to slip from your lips. Bucky’s hands came to lace with yours, pinning them on the bed, squeezing them as he barely pulled out, keeping you full of him.

“You feel my cock deep inside you baby?” Bucky’s intense gaze made you feel shy again, overwhelmed with the pleasure he was giving you, how intimate the moment was, how you felt him everywhere, all over.

“So deep B-Bucky” Your voice was shaky, struggling to keep yourself from tipping off the edge, gripping onto his hands instead.

“I know princess, doing so good for me, you make me feel so good” Bucky kissed you until he had to come up for air, panting and resting his forehead onto yours. “Do I make you feel good babygirl? Does my cock make you feel good?”

All you could do was moan, unable to formulate words as he fucked you harder, is thrusts pushing all the way into you. Bucky groaned at the way your jaw was slack, your body trembling under him, thighs squeezing him, you were close, trying so hard not to cum.

“You like my cock in your pussy huh angel? Look at how beautiful you are right now doll, Love making you feel good doll, wanna make you feel good every. single. day” Bucky’s pace started to grow sloppy, his breaths getting heavier.

“Gonna watch this over and over and make myself cum every time I can’t have you pretty girl”

The thought of Bucky watching your sex tape while touching himself was too much, heat coursing through your body, your pussy starting to suck him deeper.

“FUCK JAMES”

“That’s right baby, say my name, wanna hear you scream for me when I make you cum, c’mon, scream my name baby, let go” Bucky picked up his back, moaning into your neck, struggling to hold his own pleasure off until you came first. “Cum baby, m’not gonna last”

“J-JAMESS” You sobbed, your back bowing off the bed, pressing against his chest, your eyes rolling back. Your let out a pornographic moan, cumming all over his cock, your slick gushing out of you as he continued to fuck you through your high.

“Gonna cum for you baby, take it sweet heart, take my cum, take it, take it- oh fucckkk” All the muscles in his body were pulled taut, stilling as his cock throbbed shooting his load inside you. He cuddles with you for a bit, still staying inside you before finally pulling out, making sure he still covers up most of you before grabbing his phone to stop recording.

After the first sex tape, you get a little more comfortable and also more frisky. Bucky records just about anything whenever he gets the chance.

His favorite tapes are the ones where he can see your face and see the way you look at him. It makes him feel butterflies, blushing as he looks back, your pretty eyes always shyly gazing at him even when he doesn’t notice.

His absolute favorite video is the one from the shower where theres so much steam, it’s a little fuzzy but it makes the moment so much more intimate. He has your legs around his waist, water dripping off your bodies, your back against the shower wall. Your moans echo and bounce off the walls significantly louder, mixed with the sound of the shower.

He also has a few prized ones that he will guard with his life. Ones that would make him cum without touching himself.

“Smile for the camera my little slut” Bucky’s voice all you can hear, his phone focused on you while you lay on his bed, your hair messy and tousled, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body.

You blink up with doe eyes, your tongue darting up to lick up the cum dripping from your lips, his load covering your face. You run your finger through the mess he’s made, sucking it off, giving him an innocent giggle. Bucky groaned, panning the camera down to capture the way hes stroking his spent cock, growing hard again because you look so sexy covered in him.

“Got my dick all sensitive baby, made me cum so hard” He smirked, bringing his semi hard cock to your lips, pushing the tip for you to suckle on. “That’s it, my good girl, my little cum princess drinking up like a good girl”

You whined, still playing with the cum that covered you, letting him record the way you took his load, coating your fingers and fingering yourself, rubbing your clit after. Bucky spread your legs apart, capturing the way your fluttering pussy dripped onto the bed, your cream messy between your thighs. He makes you hold his phone so you can record the way he cleans the mess up, his chestnut hair between your legs, arms holding you down.

You can hardly focus on keeping the camera steady but you get every single minute of the way he moans and greedily licks up the mixed arousal pouring out of you. You nearly loose your mind at the way he lets his eyes roll back, telling you how perfect you taste together, crawling up to kiss you, making your more messy than before.

“Let’s make a sequel?”

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1K notes · View notes

elryuse · 14 days

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Can you make a Yandere Mina? But I want the Male Reader/OC to be a yandere too or he is a yandere lover (I hope you get what I mean).

Our Perfectly Normal Lovely Relationship

YANDERE MINA X YANDERE MALE READER

The spotlight bathed Mina in a blinding white glow. Her porcelain skin seemed to shimmer as she delivered the final note of her hit song, the screams of her adoring fans echoing through the stadium. But behind the perfectly sculpted facade, a storm brewed within her. Her eyes, usually sparkling with manufactured charm, scanned the audience, searching for a single face – Y/n's.

There he was, lost in the sea of glowing lightsticks, his face etched with a devotion that sent a familiar thrill through her. Months ago, a single DM on Instagram, a simple message praising her latest song, had ignited a spark. Yet, it wasn't just the adoration that captivated her; it was the raw passion in his words, an undercurrent of obsession that mirrored her own.

Weeks of meticulously crafted online interactions later, Y/n was hers. Their dates were filled with whispered secrets and stolen glances, a whirlwind romance fueled by a shared intensity that bordered on madness. He'd confessed his unwavering love for her music, but Mina saw a hunger in his eyes that went far beyond mere fandom.

Their love deepened, a possessive, suffocating embrace that felt strangely comforting. Mina used her influence to eliminate any perceived threats – a journalist who dared to write a critical review, a fellow idol whose eyes lingered on Y/n a second too long. Y/n, in turn, became her silent guardian, meticulously monitoring her online interactions. He'd even taken to leaving "gifts" at the doorsteps of her competitors – poisoned chocolates, threatening notes signed with a single crimson rose.

One rainy afternoon, while Mina was away at a recording session, curiosity gnawed at her. With a mix of nervous excitement and trepidation, she decided to use her spare key to enter Y/n's apartment. The air hung heavy with a strange musky scent, and goosebumps prickled on her skin as she stepped inside.

Then she saw it – a hidden door, ajar at the back of the living room. Her heart pounded in her chest as she pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit room that sent a tremor of dread through her veins. Walls plastered with her pictures, newspaper clippings detailing her career, and a makeshift shrine adorned with her personal belongings – her discarded microphone, a ripped piece of clothing, a crumpled love letter she'd carelessly tossed months ago.

Y/n's obsession mirrored her own, a chilling realization that should have terrified her. Instead, a twisted sense of belonging bloomed in her chest. Here, in this room filled with her essence, she found not fear, but a terrifying sense of completion.

That night, when Y/n returned, his face pale with shock at finding her in his secret room, Mina knew she wouldn't tell a soul. In fact, a macabre plan began to form in their minds. They weren't just two souls bound by love; they were instruments of a twisted symphony of obsession.

Their first target was Detective Kim, a man haunted by unsolved cases with eerily similar methods. He'd been following Mina's career for years, a nagging suspicion festering in his gut. But without concrete evidence, his suspicions remained just that.

Their plan unfolded with chilling efficiency. They lured Detective Kim to a secluded warehouse under the pretense of a tip. Detective Kim, ever the tenacious investigator, arrived alone, unaware of the twisted game he was about to become a part of.

The warehouse echoed with the metallic clang of a single light bulb swinging precariously overhead. Mina, her face devoid of its usual pop idol charm, watched with a chilling detachment as Y/n tightened the binds around the detective's wrists.

"You've been a thorn in our side for far too long, Detective," Y/n hissed, his voice laced with a dangerous calmness. "You'll learn why some things are better left undisturbed."

There was no elaborate torture, no prolonged suffering. Their act was swift and brutal, a single, fatal blow silencing Detective Kim forever. It wasn't about inflicting pain; it was about removing a threat, a chilling testament to the power their love wielded.

With Detective Kim gone, they were free. But the taste of blood, the thrill of silencing a potential threat, ignited a new spark within them. They craved more. Their crimes became bolder, more audacious. They targeted high-profile individuals, leaving behind their calling card – a single crimson rose, forever a reminder of the terrifying couple they were becoming.

The media dubbed them the "K-Pop Killers," a Bonnie and Clyde for the modern age. Their infamy skyrocketed, a macabre mix of fear and fascination gripping the nation. Mina, the fallen idol, became a symbol of shattered innocence, while Y/n, the enigmatic figure lurking in the shadows, became an object of morbid curiosity.

Years passed, a trail of bodies and stolen jewels marking their path. They remained elusive, ...a phantom couple leaving a nation breathless and terrified. Interpol joined the hunt, their faces plastered on wanted posters plastered across continents. From daring diamond heists to meticulously planned assassinations, they were a whirlwind of calculated chaos, their crimes fueled by their twisted love and a morbid sense of liberation.

Their notoriety reached a fever pitch when they orchestrated the kidnapping of a high-ranking politician's daughter. The nation watched with bated breath as demands were issued, a single crimson rose left on the national news desk every night. Negotiations stalled, the city held hostage by an invisible threat.

Just as the deadline loomed, authorities received a tip. A lone fisherman claimed to have seen them on a remote, uncharted island. With the military on high alert, a task force descended on the island, a swarm of helicopters tearing through the pristine silence.

What they found sent shivers down their spines. Nestled amidst the palm trees stood a dilapidated beach hut, the only sign of life. The air hung heavy with an acrid metallic tang. As the soldiers cautiously breached the door, they were met with a macabre tableau.

Mina and Y/n lay sprawled on the floor, their bodies riddled with bullets, limbs tangled in a final, desperate embrace. Their eyes, wide open, stared blankly at the ceiling, a chilling mirror of their shared madness. But it wasn't fear that etched their faces; it was a twisted joy, a macabre triumph that sent a tremor of unease through the soldiers.

"Told you this island was perfect, darling," Y/n rasped, his voice weak but laced with a twisted satisfaction.

Mina, her once vibrant eyes clouded with a dark euphoria, managed a weak cough before whispering, "Together forever, Y/n. Just like we planned." They both smiled maniacally.

Their reign of terror was over, their love story forever stained with blood. News reports proclaimed their demise a victory, a dark chapter finally closed. Yet, as the bodies were loaded onto helicopters, a single crimson rose, untouched by the chaos, lay nestled between their cold, lifeless hands.

In the end, they weren't just lovers, not just criminals. They were the Mina and Y/n duo, a chilling legend whispered in hushed tones – a testament to the darkness that lurks beneath the surface, a love story written in blood, forever etched in the memory of a nation.

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yourmaidsp · 2 months

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Hii,

I'm having big difficulty with digital coloring T-T Are there perhaps any tips u can give me pls? Ur so good at it

Hii! (˃ ⌑ ˂ഃ ) I'm so glad u come to me for help! Umm well I'm not that confident about my skills and techniques, but here's everything I've learned over the years

Also, bc I'm gonna do demonstration and detailed analysis, this will be the only time I make tutorial on coloring, I spent 5 hours making it, and I hope you guys are okay with it :3

( and sorry if I nag a lot(´ . .̫ . `) and forgive me of my poor english)

1. Preparation:

first u gotta analyze the image you want to achieve, if it has background, what environment will it be, indoor or outdoor? what time of the day is it? Do u need it to be stylized or realistic?

When your idea is finalized it's time to gather references, I'd recommend using tools like PureRef to make a ref sheet bc it can be set to always on top layer, it's easier to reference this way.

If you're going for a realistical color design, search for photos close to what you desire, especially film screenshots. Also I'd suggest that u start to take reference photos yourself, bc search on Google leads u to ai sometimes,

and those are no good (´ . .̫ . `)

(For surreal color designs I'll elaborate on the next chapter～)

(here's my all in one big ass ref sheet for sp projects

bc I'm lazy(´ . .̫ . `))

I suggest u make different ref pages for different illustrations.

2. Set Tones :

(I find this color wheel on the internet, we'll be using this for demonstration)

Now u have a ref sheet, hurray! It's time to set the tone!

Most of the time u want a consistent tone for the image, like, I wanna go for a green overall tone, I'd fill my cavas with a green background color. Then decide what other colors goes good with it.

here's how it works:

For coherent overall tone, most colors tend to be in places near your main tone. as seen in the color wheel, pick colors adjacent to it's position. We call these analogues.

A small porpotion of colors on the opposite side of your main tone can be used to break the continuety, just like in music, you purposely add stuff to make it less repetitive. It's called complimentary.The most contrasted two colors on the wheel.

I use these two tricks a lot, as seen in both these two paintings:

(I put the small orange/red dots near the edge even though it's not there, to emphasize the concept of light against the overall blue tone.)

(to make Butters stand out against the environment I give him an orange bucket and a more saturated skin tone :3 )

For extreme stylized tones, I'd suggest just go wild! experement and use colors straight out of instinct, use whatever that is on the colorwheel. Use a lot of contrast!

(for e.g, this piece about that stan and whales I've doodled, it's an imaginary space, so no realife coloring rules applied.)

Oh oh and um try thumbnailing different sets of colors! Make more designs in case u change ur mind-

Also you can find color palettes other artists summarized online, they'd be quite helpful. And when you're improving you'll have palettes of your own!

3. Analysis n Theories:

Now onto theories-

I'll just use this sketch as an example, it's easier to demonstrate - (thank u Stan_(:зゝ∠)_)

(this is gonna be the longest part pls bear with me´_>`)

First is base color, without lighting this is what most objects are. Imagine things like they're in south park, just paper cutouts, without being affected by any light.

If I use color straight from the show, he's base color would be like this. It goes well with the show's design, but I need to adjust it a bit when putting him in a 3d scenario.

tips: considering the overall tone from chapter 2 while doing this would help a lot. U can tweak the base color before you deal with lighting, for a better effect.

(for coherent tone, some adjustments are made, mainly reducing the overall saturation.)

Then is lighting, normally 2-3 sets of them. Let's do it layer by layer.

Main light source. If it's an outdoor scene, most likely the sun. And for indoor, a lamp, your room's light, or tv screen etc.

When there's one light, it cast one shadow, as seen in my demo, I assume it comes from the sun, it's higher than Stan and on the right side, and cast a 45°shadow to the left side.

In this step u don't want to overthink, just do one plain shadow, follow the structure of the objects you'r painting. You can find a lot of anatomy refs online.

Secondary light source. It can be used to elevate the mood, and in some cases creates a stunning silhouette.

Since he's in an outdoor scene, my secondary light might come from behind, could be sunlight reflected by a smooth object or sth.

tips: You can use rim light as in some cases. I do that when I don't know what to paint for background.

(this one consists of a warm rim light, to add a slight sacred feeling, and a vague light from somewhere to the left and above him, I make it a cold light source to cool down the skintone for a melancholic mood )

(it's my personal habit of adding tons of these, bc I love subsurface scattering!(it appears when your skin is in front of the light, like my hand here) I find them helpful if you want to indicate intimacy or vulnerability)

Another type of light u can add is environment lights, it comes from various objects around your character, it's a bit complicated, but we can do that later.

Okay, next step,we're gonna use the shadow we just created on our base color, u have different ways to do it.

The quickest one is just put your shadow layer on top of the base,and set the layer property to multiply , grain extract or sub.

This is similar to anime cel shading, add some highlight to the eyes, some variety on the skin tone (for lip, cheek and nose), then you're done! I used to do this when I color the animation, but for illustration I think it might be too simple. I'll show you how I do that when illustrating next.

So, 'member all the shadows we did after base color? Now we need to actually paint them.

In natural environment, your color for shadow should be more sturated than the light, if not affected by environment light and reflections. That's why I lowered the saturation for base color.

So here's the skin color, to find a shadow color for it, tune up saturation and tune down the light.

But this might be just a bit boring, and actual light have color, so either make it a bit warmer or cooler depending on the color of your main light source.

The sun is quite warm, so I'll be tweak it a bit toward red.

(ah, much better!)

Now apply the same method for everything. Pay close attetion to some details:

(the shadows of eye structure is like this, bc the lens is transparent.)

(do a dark shadow in the center of the head to make silky smooth hair, also make the edge of your shadow area sharp.)

(for dry and curly hair, the shadow pattern would be gradiented with small bumps, think about snowball, or cloud.)

Okay, now we finished the first layer of shadow and light!

Now, for secondary light, I chose a reflected sunlight, thus it'd be yellowish. and since it's reflected, a less saturated color

Now apply that logic to everything, remember to use strokes or a softer brush for the subtle lighting.

And don't forget about hair highlight and subdivision scattering!(for the ears mainly, u can add some under the nose aswell)

Another trick is that u can duplicate the line and Gaussian blur it lightly, then set layer to Burn or soft light

(Here's your nostalgic filter!!Neat!)

You can either stop at this step or go in for more detail. But you might need to know about the structures if u wanna do that.

Here's a site I visit for human anatomy:

We'll go back to face again. My habit is just abandon the line and merge all layer at this moment (It's not a good habit so I won't suggest u to do the same.)

Basically what you'll need to do here is to assume more environmental color reflected on to your character, like a bluish light coming from the sky. Also the inside of collar may recieve a warm tone from the skin, etc.

When you do the strokes, remember it goes along the direction of the structure, the length and density will create a sort of rythm, and showing the texture of things. Like, for the hat I'll use shorter and wider, bc it's made of wool.

Here's the outcome! It still needs some improvement, but very close to a finished work.

Some times I add a layer of noise texture to it, I guess you can do that easier on the phone.

4. Brushes n Textures

Oh um, this is actually a part I especiallly have no confident in,,,,, bc I'm not a big fan of using comlicated brushes or blending brushes. Usually I paint with TVPaint animation, for I also do animation and it's simplicity made me unable to be distracted by fancier techniques, I only use these two brushes:

(the basic clear edge round brush)

(and this pencil brush that can also spray paint)

Most of the time I find these enough for my works.

I'd suggest using Procreate, Krita, Photoshop and othe tool for more complicated brush use~

You can learn from some artists I mentioned in the next chapter for brush techniques~

5. Learning habits

So um another thing I'd do in my free time is just browsing Artstation and Pixiv, and if I find a good painting I'd analyze it, using the theories from chapter 3 and 4.

Here are some digital artists I like:

Gop gap, Tommy Kim, Krenz, Qqingyi

And some traditional artists I like are:

John Singer Sargent, Andrew Wyeth, Chirico, Alex Colville, Edward Hopper, Wu Guanzhong.

I hope this tutorial I make will be able to help~

Wish u the best of luck!

#maid's requests #art tips #sp fanart

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broomsick · 6 months

Text

While I’m at it, I was quite sorry to hear that new pagans, or non-pagans that are looking into the path, are finding it difficult to do some research on Thórr without seeing so much Marvel stuff. I know that I’ve talked about similar pop culture topics in the past, so right now I’ll just focus on the research part! If you’re using the internet for research, it’s possible to use the “-marvel” tip to eliminate from your search results any article containing the term “Marvel”. I find that it’s useful using key words to specify exactly which Thórr you’re looking into, such as “deity”, “mythology” and the like. It’s not ideal, but it works well if you’re just looking for a broader picture of Thórr as a deity. I find that it’s great for beginners to look into his different attestations, for example, by looking up exactly which historical texts he appears and how reliable these texts and their authors are. From there, it’s possible to find paper or online versions of these texts (either sagas, eddas and the like; basically, any historical records of his myth or worship) and to read them for yourself! Afterwards, to really dive deeper into Thórr, or any deity for that matter, it’s also great (if not necessary!) to look up what modern research and archeology have amounted to. There’s merit in learning from the learned!

#heathenry #hail Thórr #norse paganism #norse gods #spirituality #polytheism #norse polytheism #paganism #research #tips #deity work #deities #pagan

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phoenixwritessmut · 6 months

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intimacy headcanons about bottoms (2023)

okay, so i have a lot of feelings about this movie right here. i watched it in theatres with one of my bestfriends, and we couldn't stop talking about it afterwards - more specifically, headcanons we had about the fight club OG members and their reactions to sexual intimacy.

hear me out, okay.

PJ (we start with the queen who started it all): - talks a big game but actually wildly unknowledgeable about everything to do with the female orgasm. - is a bottom. it's in the title, it's in her genes, it's in her jeans. - has a controversy kink (cute cheerleaders, chicks that can make shit explode) and will vehemently deny that she likes the thrill of crushing out on someone she ABSOLUTELY has no business crushing on. - learned halfway through the movie that she's into pain!

Josie (the brains of the operation... sometimes): - pimpy as fuck. she thought she'd be shy and nervous, but when she gets going she's three steps from being the hugh hefner of lesbians. - she's a top, but a service top who will let her girl do the 'topping' if she wants to (and by girl, i mean Isabel). - secret collection of toys "just in case" she needs the help with her stamina (girl just recovered from a broken arm)... spoiler alert, they use absolutely none of them and still run for like four to six rounds. - too embarrassed to admit she used to watch videos to "take notes".

Hazel (my baby, she is everything to me): - is baby girl, but is also daddy depending on her mood (and what PJ is into at the time) but is precious none the less. - refuses to turn the lights off because she likes to watch you both during and after the throes of passion. - lowkey but also kind of highkey enjoys public displays of affection after the kiss that started the straight up murder of an entire football team of teenage boys (also enjoys shoving it in Tim's face that she's got a girlfriend, and he's got... Jeff!). - ridiculously good at what she does but doesn't brag... instead PJ brags to everyone for her, and she ends up with a reputation.

Isabel (shiny, shiny, shiny, shiny): - first time she slept with Josie, she lost all hope that a man would ever know how to satisfy her - or another woman for that matter. - seems like she would be a pillow princess but is actually extremely into giving, and fights with Josie all the time over "topping". - gets turned on watching Josie break people's noses (it's happened a few times, all to the same effect) and isn't ashamed to admit it. - went to Hazel for tips on how to do things, before word even got out that Hazel was a pro... Isabel just had the feeling that Hazel knew.

Brittany (token straight girl... literally the token straight girl): - since turning down PJ, has kissed more girls than the entire club combined (it doesn't help that half of them are all into each other). - wavers on the border of being bi-curious, but just didn't know how to turn down PJ gently, also just not ready to fully come out yet. - definitely fantasizes about women while she's with her boyfriend though. he knows and doesn't really mind about that. - stands by Hazel deserves better than PJ, and if she were just five percent more into women, she'd steal poor Hazel away in a heartbeat.

and to a lesser degree, we had some headcanons about everyone else...

Stella-Rebecca (the regina george, only nicer): - looks like a pillow princess, absolutely is a pillow princess. - into some crazy ass shit; things that the rest of the girls won't even search online for until they're at least twenty-five, married, and bored in their current intimacy lives.

Sylvie (let's crowdfund to get this girl some help): - looks like she'd be in charge, is also a pillow princess, but is completely unashamed to admit that she prefers receiving. - has been hooking up with Annie since the second meeting of fight club. only Hazel knows, but she isn't a snitch.

Annie (you fool nobody, you a freak my dear): - has been hooking up with Sylvia since the second meeting of fight club, when she very concerned about the girl's homelife asked her out for dinner to "talk" and then they ended up spending the entire night together, before they kissed and fooled around a little bit, and Annie told herself for the longest time she was only doing this to make Sylvie happy because the girl is wildly unhappy, only to realize that she's the unhappy one and Sylvie makes her happy. - doesn't know that Hazel knows about them. she aint a snitch.

and for extra bonus points... we had lots of feelings about this.

Jeff (i'm saying he counts, so there): - has never found THE spot, ever. - had to practice with Tim on how to take a bra off because he kept getting confused by all of the buckles and "why is there so many straps? why do they even need these things? can't i rip it? what if i just buy them a new bra after? okay fine." - genuinely does not realize that Mrs. Callahan's daughter Hazel goes to his school and knows his girlfriend, until he is confronted by them. - falls asleep thirty-six seconds after he finishes like a lazy ass.

#bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #ruby cruz #rachel sennott #ayo edebiri #havana rose liu #kaia gerber #virginia tucker #zamani wilder #summer joy campbell #nicholas galitzine #headcanon #smut #fanfic smut

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facesofone · 1 year

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Just a little promotional piece today to bring awareness to an upcoming event regarding the plural community. We are going to be presenting again (we did once before) and are really excited about it and wanted to share with y'all. We are going to be giving a presentation on webcomics, give tips on how to get started, and hopefully inspire some of you to start telling your own stories, because we need more voices in our community, and nobody can tell your story like you! In addition to us there are going to be many other presenters (3 days worth!) talking about all sorts of things. There will be plenty to watch and discuss. Like I said in the comic, this is the 5th annual Plural Positivity World Conference, so there are plenty of videos to go over already while we get ready for the next one. Youtube.com/Pluralevents is the official channel, where you can find many videos from past presentations. Tickets for this year's conference are available on PowertothePlurals.com/PPWC . We will be in the live chat during our presentation so feel free to say hi. We are so excited and hope to see some of you there!

[ID]

Panel 1: Jak is looking at a calendar, specifically the month of May. Kyra is standing behind him as he says, "Yay! Only a few more weeks!" She asks, "A few weeks? Until what?" and he responds "The Plural Positivity World Conference!" She says "That's the online event where systems come together to discuss a variety of topics, no?" and he responds "That's right, it's the 5th annual one so it's gonna be great!"

Panel 2: Jak and Kyra are in talking poses. Jak goes first by saying "I'm both excited and nervous for our. presentation about How to start your own system based webcomics. Being on camera is always scary, but I'm glad I did." Kyra says "I'm excited to be in live chat during and after our presentation chatting with viewers and answering questions. I love that the P.P.W.C is set up so the audience can interact with the presenters, it really builds community."

Panel 3: Atom has now joined in, Jak and Kyra watch as he says "I'm looking forward to watching all the presentations, the event is 3 days long so there will be so much to watch, learn, and discuss. Systems from all walks of life getting together to share their experiences really shows us that we are never as alone as we feel; I think a lot of people can really benefit from a sense of community."

Panel 4: Jak is waving them both forward as they walk, he says "Well it doesn't start until MAY 19th so we have some time. Let's get pumped by watching some past events by searching "Plural Events" on youtube, and then we'll reserve our tickets on Powertotheplurals.com/PPWC " Kyra says "Yay!" and Atom says "Let's do it!"

[END ID]

#Plural #Plurality #Plural Positivity #Plural Positivity World Conference #systems

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copias-sewer-rat · 7 months

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If you still do asks, (you can say no!), but could I request a Mm something with the different Papas taking care of/comforting reader who deals with digestive issues?

(I deal with GERD, acid reflux and some days I literally get symptoms/pain so bad I just curl up and don’t wanna do anything 🥺)

Hi darling! I do asks of course! It might take me a bit to write them because I don’t have much free time lately but I get them done in the end.

I am so so sorry you have to deal with that... to (hopefully) make you feel better here you have the Papas taking care of a reader that deals with digestive issues.

(I tried to make this as GN as possible, hope you don’t mind, I wasn’t sure if you were asking for a m/m relationship so I didn’t want to risk it.)

I. Primo

- Primo is an old man, that we know, but with age there also comes wisdom. He is no stranger to chronic pains or illnesses. His experience has taken him to create what most siblings of sin and even his brothers consider to be the most infallible methods to fight any sickness or health disruptions.

- For sure he has also dealt with gastrointestinal issues, not all foods that he eats stay the same in his stomach as when he was younger. Nonetheless, he has learned what things to avoid.

- Primo had helped you in the past, to the point of considering each other very close, even intimate. You had tried everything he had suggested to you previously, but lately your pain had become unbearable, you needed something else.

- When you come to his quarters in search of a “magical cure” for your pain, skin pale and glossy eyes, he leaves everything that he is doing in that moment to take care of you.

- He doesn’t want you to move an inch so he lets you sleep on his bed. He lends you one of his sleeping gowns, big, long and fresh so you feel all the comfort.

- Before that however, Primo makes you dinner in his private kitchenette. He knows the importance of an appropriate diet when dealing with those sorts of problems. His go to “remedy” is water with non-citrus fruits, he will add whichever fruit you prefer. He will also make you whichever food you might want (but it need to be appropriate for your condition so mostly salads or oats).

-Primo will make you sit on his lap and will feed you small bits so you can digest your food properly, whispering how good you are doing and telling you that you will feel better soon. With the dinner he also gives you one of his most potent remedies, one that also makes you sleepy.

-You need to stay awake for a bit making your digestion before going to bed so Primo will ask for you to tell him how your day was or any anecdote that comes to mind. He will listen attentively drawing circles on your back until you fall asleep in his arms, finally taking you to his bed for a good night of rest.

II. Secondo

-Secondo doesn’t know much about gastrointestinal issues. He smokes, drinks and eats all types of food and in such quantities that if done by any normal person it would leave them in a comatose state.

-However, when you come to him in search of comfort, he will research everything he can about your condition and how to make you feel better.

-He is hesitant about helping you because he considers himself to be a bit of a brute, but seeing you in such state gives him the courage to try his best.

-Secondo will follow down to the t every single tip he finds online. Whatever food might help you he will cook, whatever medicine might make you feel better he will go and find.

-If you cannot move much he will carry you anywhere and help you with whichever task: showering, bathing, brushing your hair, whatever you might need.

-Like Primo, he will carry you to his own bed to rest, hugging you, a pillow between you two, pressed on your stomach to alleviate as much pain as possible.

-If by any chance you wake up in the middle of the night with pain or in need to vomit he will be by your side, pressing a cold towel to your forehead, rubbing your back and arms in slow motions which makes your blood move.

-He will reassure you that everything will be fine, that he is not going anywhere and that the pain will pass.

-You believe him of course, how could you not when he smiles at you so warmly and with such confidence. His positiveness rubs on you and some of the pain fades away.

-The rest of the night you sleep soundly in his arms.

III. Terzo

-Poor Terzo doesn’t know what to do to help you, so he calls Omega to carry you around.

-He goes to Primo for help. Terzo bursts in first, screaming pleads with exaggerated stereotypical Italian hand motions. If you were not in such pain you would surely laugh at his antics.

-Omega is very tender with you, he moves slowly so as to not make you feel worse.

-Primo instructs Terzo in what to do, how to make you feel better and what medicines might be the best.

-If Primo told him 5 medicines that might help you, Terzo is going to get the five of them.

-As instructed by Terzo, Omega will carry you to Terzo’s bed after you have taken your medicine.

-They will let you sleep as much as you want and if you ask, both of them will join you in your slumber.

-Your body will be pressed against Terzo’s and Omega’s chests. You would feel like a cat nested in a fort of pillows, thankful for all the contact and pressure.

-The attention makes you forget most of your pain, only leaving the usual reflex. When those occur, Terzo will squeeze you tighter, signing Italian lullabies to you until you go back to sleep, safe and sound next to him.

IV. Copia

-Like Terzo, Copia is stressed™ at seeing you in pain.

-He sweeps you off your feet and takes you to the infirmary in a rush. He almost trips a couple of times and he got lost a few times also, which wasn’t the best for your condition but he apologized profusely every time something happened that made you wince.

-He rushes every nurse there to get you anything that might help.

-The nurses can’t help but roll their eyes at how stressed he is. He is making such a fuzz that the nurses threaten him with kicking him out if he does not behave.

-The nurses recommend that you stay the night in the infirmary, so of course Copia is going to stay with you.

-He takes an armchair and places it next to your bed.

-To make you feel better he sneaks in one of his rats for you to pet and cuddle with.

-As he feels you drifting off because of the medicine, he will also try to sleep in his chair, his hand extended to hold yours during the entirety of the night.

-If at any point you wake up in pain or in need to vomit, just like Secondo, Copia will be there for you, helping you in any way possible.

-After that he will even join you in the very small infirmary bed, holding you close, rubbing your stomach so as to try to ease your pain.

- You drift off to the feeling of loving kisses on the back of your neck, feeling so much better.

----

Hope this could help a bit, also hope you get better soon darling, lots of love to you🖤

For now my ask box is always open so do not hesitate to ask for something you might want to read.

#the band ghost #papa emeritus iv #gonst #ghost #cardinal copia #ghost band #ghost bc #papa emeritus iii #papa secondo #papa terzo #papa emeritus 2 #papa ii #papaemeritus #papa copia #copia #ghost the band bc #ask box

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dervampireprince · 6 months

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do you have any tips for making n$fw content? probably specifically audios tbh. i want to get into it but i don’t even know where to start and it’s hard to search for tips and and stuff bc the site blocks searches.

oo okay so this of course is just my personal experiences and thoughts and all that. and i don't know if i can give the best advice but i will say what i can.

in my opinion there's sort of three types of n-sfw audio creators. i would think about which one of these types of audios you want to make or what platforms you want to use, but there's nothing saying you can't do multiple of these.

there's people who make regular audio p0rn which is real recordings of them actually participating in sexual acts, whether alone or with others, usually these are posted on reddit and places like p0rnhub. essentially regular video p0rn but audio only.

scripted and improvised audio content that are made up scenarios being acted out and not actually happening, like the kind found on r/gonewildaudio (shoutout to my favourite inactive audio creator who i hope is doing well u/msa_andeh, he is the reason i got into making audios, seriously go to his reddit or soundgasm). i crosspost all my public n-sfw audios on this subreddit, and where relevant also to r/GoneWildAudioGay and r/GoneWildAudioTrans.

asmr voice actor youtubers who make sfw content on their youtube but nsfw exclusive n-sfw content on their patreons, whether this be original scenarios, original characters or fandom characters. this is the type of content i make and so do creators like CarlinAudios, YuuriVoice, Dark & Twisted Whispers, Kink Radio, and more.

so firstly if you're trying to learn about n-sfw audios you need to knwo about r/gonewildaudio. it's a sub reddit just for posting scripts and audios of n-sfw audios. i assume you've seen the tags i use in my audios, the ones in the square brackets like [M4M] [Comfort] [Praise], well these are using r/gonewildaudios tagging system. gwa is also how i discovered soundgasm as an audio hosting site that allows n-sfw audios to be posted to it. this subreddit contains anything from someone recording themselves getting off, to scripted fantasy audios about knights and kings, to 'boyfriend helps you relax'. anything and everything n-sfw audio related. there are writers who post their scripts on there and the purposes is for people to 'script fill'. a script fill post is where a person on there reads off and acts out one of the scripts. so if you do want to get into n-sfw voice acting but are struggling to write or come up with ideas, you could start out by trying out script fills but make sure to abide by the the subreddits tagging system, and as with most subreddits its no self-promo policy (which makes reddit a hard place to promote your other social medias or patreon on).

there are also a couple more subreddits for the same type of content but more specific, there's r/GoneWildAudioGay for M4M n-sfw audios (male 4 male, and yes this includes trans and cis men), and r/GoneWildAudioTrans for any n-sfw and sfw audios where the listener is trans (which means any identity under the trans umbrella, eg trans men, trans women, non-binary, genderfluid, etc).

but also wait there's more. there is g/GWABackstage which is another subreddit for n-sfw audio and script creators to share other projects unrelated to n-sfw audios but also for asking questions about how to make audios, tips, feedback, how to post audios online, how to make sfx, what microphone to use, anything and everything you might have questions for! there's also r/GWAScriptGuild for script writers to share their work, ask for feedback, ask questions, advice, etc.

if you want to post audios publicly you can here on tumblr put there is a size limit on audio files that i quickly discovered that made my audios compressed so badly they were inaudible and that's why i stopped putting the audios directly on here and instead just embed the youtube videos. but if you want a proper n-sfw audio hosting site there is soundgasm (which i use) and also erocast. there might be more, but those are the ones i know. some people also just use p0rnhub to post the audio as a video with either no visuals or just one picture the entire video.

if you are wanting to make money out of doing n-sfw audios the only way i know is by putting stuff behind patreon. 237 out of my 288 patrons are part of the n-sfw audio tier. that is the majority of my income at the moment. if i posted n-sfw content publicly more often or had all those patreon exclusive audios public i wouldn't be making a living. though i don't know if it's possible to use something 0nlyfans or fan$ly instead as i don't know if they allow you to make audio posts. i know that ko-fi doesn't allow audios posts, you'd have to post them as videos. of course you an always take commissions as well, but you have to be the one to market yourself and try and reach people who are interested in custom n-sfw audios.

i guess basically my advice has been don't search on tumblr, go to reddit. that's not saying you can't post your audios on tumblr, you can, hell i started by posting my things on tumblr. and there's a different in how you'll grow and what audience you attract depending on whether you want to do original p0rn audios in which case you might want to use reddit and 0nlyfans, or if you want to make fandom audios in which case well what better place can you find fandoms and people in love with fictional characters than tumblr (don't be offended guys, this is a self call out)

i don't know what else to say uhhhh. i hope that helpsss. if you have any more specific questions you can shoot them my way and i'll try to answer and if i can't maybe try the r/GWABackstage subreddit

#the vampire answers #nsft audio #nsft audios #nsftumblr #faq

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mariacallous · 29 days

Text

Whether you're a student, a journalist, or a business professional, knowing how to do high-quality research and writing using trustworthy data and sources, without giving in to the temptation of AI or ChatGPT, is a skill worth developing.

As I detail in my book Writing That Gets Noticed, locating credible databases and sources and accurately vetting information can be the difference between turning a story around quickly or getting stuck with outdated information.

For example, several years ago the editor of Parents.com asked for a hot-take reaction to country singer Carrie Underwood saying that, because she was 35, she had missed her chance at having another baby. Since I had written about getting pregnant in my forties, I knew that as long as I updated my facts and figures, and included supportive and relevant peer-reviewed research, I could pull off this story. And I did.

The story ran later that day, and it led to other assignments. Here are some tips I’ve learned that you should consider mastering before you turn to automated tools like generative AI to handle your writing work for you.

Find Statistics From Primary Sources

Identify experts, peer-reviewed research study authors, and sources who can speak with authority—and ideally, offer easily understood sound bites or statistics on the topic of your work. Great sources include professors at major universities and media spokespeople at associations and organizations.

For example, writer and author William Dameron pinned his recent essay in HuffPost Personal around a statistic from the American Heart Association on how LGBTQ people experience higher rates of heart disease based on discrimination. Although he first found the link in a secondary source (an article in The New York Times), he made sure that he checked the primary source: the original study that the American Heart Association gleaned the statistic from. He verified the information, as should any writer, because anytime a statistic is cited in a secondary source, errors can be introduced.

Dive Into Databases

Jen Malia, author of The Infinity Rainbow Club series of children’s books (whom I recently interviewed on my podcast), recently wrote a piece about dinosaur-bone hunting for Business Insider, which she covers in her book Violet and the Jurassic Land Exhibit.

After a visit to the Carnegie Museum of Natural History in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Malia, whose books are set in Philadelphia, found multiple resources online and on the museum site that gave her the history of the Bone Wars, information on the exhibits she saw, and the scientific names of the dinosaurs she was inspired by. She also used the Library of Congress’ website, which offers digital collections and links to the Library of Congress Newspaper Collection.

Malia is a fan of searching for additional resources and citable documents with Google Scholar. “If I find that a secondary source mentions a newspaper article, I’m going to go to the original newspaper article, instead of just stopping there and quoting,” she says.

Your local public library is a great source of free information, journals, and databases (even ones that generally require a subscription and include embargoed research). For example, your search should include everything from health databases (Sage Journals, Scopus, PubMed) to databases for academic sources and journalism (American Periodical Series Online, Statista, Academic Search Premier) and databases for news, trends, market research, and polls (the Harris Poll, Pew Research Center, Newsbank, ProPublica).

Even if you find a study or paper that you can’t access in one of those databases, consider reaching out to the study’s lead author or researcher. In many cases, they’re happy to discuss their work and may even share the study with you directly and offer to talk about their research.

Get a Good Filtering System

For journalist Paulette Perhach’s article on ADHD in The New York Times, she used Epic Research to see “dual team studies.” That's when two independent teams address the same topic or question, and ideally come to the same conclusions. She recommends locating research and experts via key associations for your topic. She also likes searching via Google Scholar but advises filtering it for studies and research in recent years to avoid using old data. She suggests keeping your links and research organized. “Always be ready to be peer-reviewed yourself,” Perhach says.

When you are looking for information for a story or project, you might be inclined to start with a regular Google search. But keep in mind that the internet is full of false information, and websites that look trustworthy can sometimes turn out to be businesses or companies with a vested interest in you taking their word as objective fact without additional scrutiny. Regardless of your writing project, unreliable or biased sources are a great way to torpedo your work—and any hope of future work.

For Accuracy, Go to the Government

Author Bobbi Rebell researched her book Launching Financial Grownups using the IRS’ website. “I might say that you can contribute a certain amount to a 401K, but it might be outdated because those numbers are always changing, and it’s important to be accurate,” she says. “AI and ChatGPT can be great for idea generation,” says Rebell, “but you have to be careful. If you are using an article someone was quoted in, you don’t know if they were misquoted or quoted out of context.”

If you use AI and ChatGPT for sourcing, you not only risk introducing errors, you risk introducing plagiarism—there is a reason OpenAI, the company behind ChatGPT, is being sued for downloading information from all those books.

Historically, the Loudest Isn’t the Best

Audrey Clare Farley, who writes historical nonfiction, has used a plethora of sites for historical research, including Women Also Know History, which allows searches by expertise or area of study, and JSTOR, a digital library database that offers a number of free downloads a month. She also uses Chronicling America, a project from the Library of Congress which gathers old newspapers to show how a historical event was reported, and Newspapers.com (which you can access via free trial but requires a subscription after seven days).

When it comes to finding experts, Farley cautions against choosing the loudest voices on social media platforms. “They might not necessarily be the most authoritative. I vet them by checking if they have a history of publication on the topic, and/or educational credentials.”

When vetting an expert, look for these red flags:

You can’t find their work published or cited anywhere.

They were published in an obscure journal.

Their research is funded by a company, not a university, or they are the spokesperson for the company they are doing research for. (This makes them a public relations vehicle and not an appropriate source for journalism.)

And finally, the best endings for virtually any writing, whether it’s an essay, a research paper, an academic report, or a piece of investigative journalism, circle back to the beginning of the piece, and show your reader the transformation or the journey the piece has presented in perspective.

As always, your goal should be strong writing supported by research that makes an impact without cutting corners. Only then can you explore tools that might make the job a little easier, for instance by generating subheads or discovering a concept you might be missing—because then you'll have the experience and skills to see whether it's harming or helping your work.

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jakegooglyeyes · 1 year

Text

Emblem of Roses - 4

Pairings: Jake Gyllenhaal x reader, Maggie Gyllenhaal x reader (Medieval AU)

Summary: You were content with your quiet life as an illegitimate daughter of the King, hanging out with the maids and learning your craft. All that ended when your father married you to Lord Gyllenhaal, the Usurper, as a peace offering and a hostage.

Word count: 5,300

Warnings: 18+ MINOR DNI , RPF, DUBCON, angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, hate to pining, polyamory, slow burn with smut, political marriage, mean!Jake to pining!Jake, cunning!Maggie, kind!reader.

Chapter warnings: light smut, dubcon, dry humping, drinking.

*** Your online experience is your responsibility. You have been warned. If any of these content upsets you, DO NOT READ!!! ***

A/N: @gyllenhaalstories I did it, I finished the chapter. *cry* The chapter in which we learn why milord doesn't remember reader's face.

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

The pungent aroma of fermented fruits and honey invades your senses as you tumble on the earth, bearing the burden of an entire grown man. His Lordship keeps muttering his apologies into your ears in his intoxicated stupor. His drunken struggles only push you further into the ground.

"My Lord, please move."

You croak, elbowing his chest to prevent the man from collapsing on you. The disgrace of your wedding night resurfaces in your mind as his body heat and musky scent envelop you, making the winter night almost too hot to bear.

"Shifty rabbit, I am no Lord to you."

His words come out slurred and a little upset. He pushes himself up with his arms, but his entire lower body weighs you down on the cold, dusty stone floor. He gazes longingly at your form in the dark, licking his lips dry from the excessive drinking.

With a subtle shake of your head, you dodge the air saturated with alcoholic vapor. You are grateful, at least, that Lord Gyllenhaal is oblivious to the identity of his own wife, or so you pray. Whatever ale-infused fever dream has taken hold of him, you decide to comply and bide your time, waiting for the opportunity to wiggle away.

"Cat's got your tongue? Have you forgotten the stupid name you call me?"

With his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, the Lord runs his fingers on your lips, giggling like a fool. Then, as if he has found an entertaining plaything, he begins to rub and stretch your cheeks like a pile of dough. He does not seem to care if you even want to participate in this nonsensical, one-sided conversation.

With a deep inhale, you marvel at this frivolous facet of his personality while suppressing the temptation to knee him in the groin. The last thing you want is for him to regain awareness. Fortunately, his childish antics fail to amuse him for long. His hands slow down to a halt as he cups your face delicately. Your eyes begin to distinguish his quiet, slumping silhouette in the dark. A comforting warmth spreads across your stomach, then your chest, as he descends to be closer to your face.

"Have you forgotten me?"

The Lord is now so dangerously close that the very tip of your nose brushes against his. You reflexively tilt your face to the side, extending your arms in an attempt to support his weight and maintain a distance between you. His cold lips, seeking the softness they desire, land on your cheeks instead, eliciting a displeased grunt. The roughness of his beard scrapes against your skin as he continues his search, led by his mouth. The frigid touch of his lips explores your cheeks with tender care, worried he would miss a single inch.

"Are you angry?"

Unable to get what he wants, he sounds defeated. He is so close to you that you can sense the vibration in his broad chest as he groans. You have no desire to answer him, and the drunkard probably cannot comprehend whatever you say.

"You must be. I didn't come back for you."

His incoherent monologue goes on as he cradles your face with adoration, fingertips dancing on your cheeks. The heat from the palms seeps into your skin, making you feel the rough patches formed by many years of wielding the sword.

You want to say something in response, but the sudden firm grasp on your breast stops the words in your throat, followed by the ragged breaths of the man looming over you. The Lord ceases apologetic fussing, and the underground chamber falls into silence.

Though you have never considered yourself feeble or fragile and are used to arduous manual labor, you find it a monumental task to dislodge him. Despite your best efforts to shake him off, his superior grappling skills, honed through years of wrestling with the bannermen, ensnare you like stubborn vines. Every time you successfully worm your way out, he finds a way to recapture you, trapping you once more in his arms.

The pathetic wriggling presents the Lord an opening to make his way between your legs. His body causes the thick linen skirt to hike up your knees. Any leverage you may have is nullified by the thighs pressing into yours. Your right arm is stuck between your body while you try to push him away. And your remaining arm is left flailing blindly as he keeps one hand underneath your neck. His free hand runs down your side, fondling and squeezing every inch of you he can reach.

Your breaths hitch as the sudden touch catches you by surprise. You can neither see nor move, but the hard protrusion grinding against your pelvis is a tale-tell sign of the Lord's craving. His boots dig into the ground like an anchor as he slowly rocks himself into your hip. Audible sighs of pleasure escape his lips while he looks for release.

The sound of your teeth grinding together fills your ears as you struggle to determine if you feel humiliated or upset. The Lord has never spared you a kind word since the moment you set foot in these walls. To him, you have always been nothing but the wretched royal spawn. Yet here he is, seeking pleasure from you, mistaking you for his dearly long-lost beloved. He is capable of displaying affection and tenderness, just not towards you, his lawfully wed wife, not even as a farce. You cannot help but feel envious of the woman you have never met, the servants, everyone. Your pride is injured, and a stew of repressed bitterness begins to simmer within your heart.

Inexplicable greed creeps into your thoughts, causing a yearning that is both intense and insistent. It whispers into your ear, urging you to seize what is being offered. And, as the Lord's grasp tightens and his fingers manipulate with dexterity, it becomes increasingly difficult to resist the lure of this inner impulse. The warmth emitting from him is simply too comforting.

Sensing that your resistance has stopped, the Lord loosens his hold, falling on top of you as his breathing roughs. You let your free arms lie still on your sides as you bear witness to the Lord's charade. His dry thrusts become more urgent as his fingers fumble with your clothes.

The chilling air current of a winter night licks your skin like the edge of a sword as your chest and belly are exposed after a sharp tearing noise. You instinctively bring your hands up to cover your breasts, only to find the Lord a step ahead. Your breath is caught in your throat when an unfamiliar blistering heat covers the frigid skin of your mounds. The direct sensation is wholly different from being felt through clothes.

You cannot hold back an embarrassing whimper when a hot, wet mouth encloses one of your nipples, sucking in earnest. The hand on the other breast moves in tandem, a motion you can only describe as a hungry kitten pressing its mother's teats for milk. Your face burns with shame as the Lord nibbles on your bud like a scrumptious morsel.

The noxious aroma of wine and the dank air of the basement make your head loopy. You must be ludicrous as the thought of indulging him until he is sated begins to seem plausible. Your hand rises, your fingers brushing against the side of his head, where you feel the heat of his flushed cheeks. The Lord emits a soft groan, interpreting your gesture as encouragement.

Your body and his entangle as he starts to rub against you with vigor. His fingers refuse to let any bare inch of skin escape, caressing and pinching your naked flesh. You whimper and writhe underneath the Lord, unable to cope with the unfamiliar pleasure slowly building up. Although your lower body is still clothed, you can feel his hardness sliding along your untouched private part. The nasal growls in his throat get increasingly desperate as he inches closer to his rapture.

Guiding by instinct and lust, the Lord props himself up and fiddles to undo his trousers, freeing his painful erection. Then, not having enough patience to get rid of your remaining clothes, he searches for your hand and pulls it toward his stiff manhood before wrapping your unwilling fingers around it. The Lord's shaft throbs as his precum slathers your palm, allowing him easy movement. You do not want to know what is in his fantasy as the Lord thrusts into your hand while vocalizing his ecstasy.

With a final jerk, the Lord lets out a shaky breath. Hot, sticky ropes of him land on your breasts and stomach. He falls on top of you, breathing heavily, having been spent and exhausted. Unbeknownst to your husband, a hidden contraction in your core makes you flustered and frustrated. You cannot explain the yearning emptiness you are made to feel.

However, you soon realize you do not have the luxury of caring about your needs. As you struggle to push the man off, you hear approaching footsteps from the stairs leading down the basement. Panic grips your heart as torchlight illuminates the previously unlit storage chamber. Quietly, you free yourself from underneath the unconscious man and seek refuge behind the stack of barrels, holding your breath and desperately clinging to your disheveled clothing as the footsteps draw near.

Loud splash echoes inside the chamber, causing the Lord to grumble in protest as freezing water dumped over his head. You strain your eyes, trying to peak at the yellow flame of the torch. Two feminine figures, Lady Maggie and the middle-aged steward, still holding the empty bucket, stand over the Lady's troublesome brother. Their presence starkly contrasts with the moment of intimacy that had just transpired.

"My Lord, please stand up. The guests are waiting for you."

The Lady's composure conceals her inward frustration at the shameful spectacle. Although you cannot discern her expression through the narrow gap between the barrels, it is clear that she is not happy. The Lord's eyes sting at the torch's lights as he looks up at the women. Finally, he tenses up and comes to his senses. The fleeting remnants of his drunken hallucination vanish, but the sage's fragrance lingers, albeit almost too faint to notice. With a muttered curse, the Lord fixes his attire, salvaging what is left of his dignity, before furiously storming out of the underground chamber.

Lady Maggie's blue eyes resemble two inky pools under the faltering torch as she stands motionless in the middle of the chamber. The sudden departure of her brother amid the feast has left her juggling with the phony sycophants and inebriated nobles. She correctly suspected that her brother was hunting for more wine to drown his thoughts with, so she went to the basement to look for him. With the feast going on, the basement is frequently visited by servants. She does not want the Lord to be caught in an intoxicated state or seen defiling a hapless kitchen maid. These could ruin years of her effort to build up her brother's image as a righteous man.

"My Lady." The steward cautiously approaches her mistress and whispers something in the Lady's ears, which you cannot hear. You can only see the Lady's brows furrow for a moment before she goes back to her mellow impression.

"The guests are demanding his Lordship's presence. What would you have us do?"

The steward asks. Though she is nervous, her voice is as calm as ever, befitting the Lady's most trusted servant. Lady Maggie's eyes finally shift from the empty space where her brother was only moments ago to the steward, and she lets out a deep sigh.

"Gather the servants and inform them that the feast is to be concluded early. Tell everyone my brother had one too many drinks and has excused himself back to his chamber. Ensure guests are properly escorted back to their quarters."

With that, the Lady turns on her heel and strides out of the basement, with the steward quickly trailing behind. The underground chamber once again becomes a dark, cold hollow. You wait until you no longer hear footsteps and leave your hiding place.

Lord Gyllenhaal stumbles up the stone steps leading to his chamber, his thoughts a jumbled mess. His mind berates him for his irrational behaviors. He cannot explain what came over him in the basement, and the pleasant scent of sage still clouding his senses only adds to his confusion. Pushing through the decorated door, the Lord collapses onto his bed. He finds himself in torment, struggling against his desire, still slowly burning inside. Despite his best effort to suppress it, he cannot resist the fixation on the past.

As he lies on the bed, the Lord is consumed by doubt. He tries to make sense of what has just happened in the basement and questions the authenticity of the experience. Was the woman just a figment of his imagination, a manifestation of his longing? The uncertainty plagues him, leaving him to wonder if his mind has played tricks on him.

In that fleeting moment of bliss, the Lord believed the person in the basement was her. The sensation was so familiar and endearing that he felt it ingrained into his flesh and bones. His nerves were ablaze with excitement as the Lord reminisced about the warm body beneath him back then. It was too dark, and he only had his senses to rely on. Yet, there is an earthy aroma that lingers in his memory.

The Lord takes a moment to calm himself, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves and regain clarity. He shuts his eyes, racking his brain in search of the source of the scent. As the memory slowly returns, the Lord realizes the last time he encountered the smell was in your presence. He had overlooked it then due to its subtlety, but the realization now causes a wave of frustration to wash over him. The Lord rises from his bed and begins pacing the room, trying to rid himself of the strange feeling that has taken hold of him. He feels conflicted. He is not so blinded by hatred that he would blame a mere illegitimate daughter for everything her father has done. If anything, you are but a pawn in other people's twisted schemes. He knows that. And yet, he has been disturbed by your presence since the moment he saw you.

As if possessed, the Lord makes his way toward his so-called wife's chamber. He pushes the door open and scans the room, expecting you to be inside. But you aren't there, just like the other day. The space is empty, save for a few pieces of furniture and a burned herb's scent drifting gently. The bed is neatly made, and the hearth is cold. He notices small herb plants dotting the windowsill that he did not see the last time he was here. The Lord walks over to them, inspecting the leaves and little flowers, finding it puzzling that they can grow during the harshest days of the year.

Lord Gyllenhaal gradually takes control of his emotions as he stands in your room. Despite his dislike for you, the subtle scent has a soothing effect on him. He inhales slowly, letting the air fill his lungs as a reminder to keep his composure. As he looks around the room, taking in the sight of the properly tended plants, he cannot help but feel a twinge of ill-suited sentimentality. He finds it laughable that this place brings a semblance of peace to his troubled mind and that he keeps giving himself to these late-night wandering.

As much as he is irritated that this feels like a game of hide and seek, where you have wandered is none of his concern. Any place you should not be is well-guarded enough to prevent you from doing anything stupid. He decides to let the matter be for now and takes a final deep breath, savoring the scent of herbs one last time before leaving the room and closing the door behind him, lost in thoughts.

You stand by the well, cleaning yourself with haste. The freezing water serves to wash away not only the dirt but also whatever the Lord has left behind, dissipating the heat on your skin. Your bones are creaking from the piercing cold, but you do not care. You only want to rid yourself of the evidence of tonight. Once done, you quickly get dressed, securing your torn clothes with a rope, and make your way back to an empty chamber, oblivious to the fact that you have narrowly escaped the Lord's sudden visit.

With a strike from the flint, the fireplace begins to crackle. You breathe a sigh of relief when you feel the soft bed underneath your back, snuggling deep under covers, trying to get warm from the chill that has seeped into your bones. Your thoughts drift to the ordeal you faced in the basement. You wonder if the Lord recognized you, and the idea of being caught by him is frightening. But the fear is accompanied by a strange intrigue. An odd warmth rises on your cheeks as the images of the night are replayed in your head. You ponder the nature of the Lord's beloved one and what kind of person could bring out such vulnerability in his Lordship.

Unable to sleep, you jump to your feet and quickly retrieve a piece of parchment from your belongings, along with a quill and a small bottle of ink. Your promise to your mother weighs heavily on your mind, and you know she must be worried sick. But writing to her has been a challenge for two reasons. First, the constant demands of the fortress have kept you busy day and night, with little time for anything else. And second, you need to figure out how to get the letter to her. You are skeptical about asking Lady Maggie or the steward for help. The thoughts race through your mind as you dip the quill into the ink.

You stare at the blank parchment for a moment, unsure of what to write. You have been through so much since you arrived at the fortress, but you do not want your mother to worry more than she already has. You tap the quill's tip on the ink bottle, trying to find the right words. You tell her you are well, and the Gyllenhaals treat you kindly. You write about the feast and how things are different from the capital. At this point, you realize you have yet to see much of the fortress apart from the inner bailey. You stare at where the words trail off, having nothing more to say. Nothing that will not burden your mother. With a sigh, you roll the parchment and place it back in your chest. You may try again later when your thoughts are less muddled.

A series of knocks on your door makes your heart skip a beat. Your chest tightens as you wonder who could be seeking you out at this ungodly hour. The door opens slowly, and in walks Lady Maggie, wearing a soft expression, accompanied by the stern stewart. You can't help but feel a knot forming in your stomach.

"I apologize for disturbing your rest so late," Lady Maggie greets you with a smile. "But I must speak with you."

The steward places a finely crafted gown on your bed before departing, leaving you alone with Lady Maggie. She gestures for you to take a seat, and as she sits in the upholstered chair next to the desk, the soft glow from the hearth illuminates her graceful figure. Right now, Lady Maggie seems like a divine being from ancient mythology, and you can't help but feel that your modest, bare room is not fit to receive someone of her stature.

"I hope you are feeling well, my dear," Lady Maggie looks at you, noticing the distress on your face. You don't know if she knows about the mess in the basement. Your eyes fixate on the floor, unable to look straight at the Lady. Otherwise, you would know she has been observing you closely since she stepped in, taking in every change in your body language.

"I must request your presence at the feast tomorrow. There will be delegates sent by the King himself in attendance. People will question if the Lord is not accompanied by his wife."

"What?"

You are baffled by the news, and your tongue slips. The thought of meeting the King's people makes you uneasy. Not many of the King's council know your face, but those who do look at you with disdain. Moreover, you can't fathom why the King would send anyone here in this current state of affairs. You quickly apologize for being blunt, but the Lady doesn't seem to mind. Instead, she replies with another question.

"My dear, what do you think about this war?"

The sudden question catches you off guard. You don't know how to answer. Lady Maggie patiently waits for you. The room falls into an awkward silence. You wonder what the consequences are if your answer crosses her.

"I... I believe the Lord's cause is just."

That is all you can mutter. It is a laughable answer coming from the princess. If anyone resented House Gyllenhaal and this forced marriage, it would be you. There is no good reason for a member of the royal family to side with the man who has vowed to kill them all. But this is your genuine thought. You loathe the Lord for how he treats you, but you can't deny that he is a hero in people's eyes. On top of that, you are not the real princess and do not feel any connection to the King.

The Lady bursts into an uncharacteristic fit of laughter. You can't tell if she is mocking you or truly feeling amused by your answer.

"Clever little kitten." Lady Maggie murmurs to herself, seemingly satisfied with what she heard.

"The King has suggested a truce with House Gyllenhaal. Thus, his majesty has sent delegates here as a gesture of peace. That is why I would love for the princess to personally welcome the convoy. After all, you were the key that led us to this peace."

"Of course, my Lady. It would be my honor."

You don't want to meet whoever the King sent, but you have no choice. Despite the Lady's courtesy, this is an order. Someone like you has no place to voice your opinion. Within these walls, hers and the Lord's will is absolute.

"Has Jacob done anything to offend you?" The Lady suddenly changes the subject. The tone of her voice softens.

"No, my Lady." You still need to get used to hearing Lady Maggie call the Lord by his given name. Your mind wanders to the time he noticed you weren't wearing warm enough and the time he saved you from the horse. You realize this would be an excellent opportunity to be in the Lady's good graces.

"The Lord has actually been very kind."

Although not to the "princess."

"That's good, then. If Jacob does something unbecoming for the head of the House, you can always come to me."

"There is one thing I would like you to remember." Lady Maggie stands up from her chair and approaches you. She reaches out and runs her slender fingers on your cheek, making you flinch. Her fingers are cool to the touch but don't make you uncomfortable.

"My brother may not be tender towards you, but you are still a lady of our House. Therefore, do not appear weak or easily intimidated. Do not let anyone think that House Gyllenhaal is to be trifled with."

The fingertips brush ever so lightly on your face. Then, not sparing a second, the Lady quickly returns to her chamber, leaving the ghost of her presence lingering on your cheek.

Lady Maggie sits before her brother, her expression stern and disapproving as she chastises him for yesterday. The early morning light filters into the room through the window behind her, casting a golden glow on the scene. The Lord listens quietly to her scolding, his head slightly tilted, showing little remorse. Despite her reprimands, he can't help but find comfort in the rays of sunlight that warm his skin. His mood seems to have improved from the past few days of sulking.

The Lady takes a long sip of her morning tea after she feels like she has done venting. She can absolutely complain until her brother's ears fall off, but there are more pressing matters concerning the King's recent move. And you, the Lord's wife.

"The old pig demands a truce?"

The Lord mulls over the news his sister has told him about, not caring to hide his contempt for the King. Lady Maggie nods and quietly hands her brother the letter detailing the King's proposal.

"What is he planning now? He sent us a fraud, but he still wants to pretend she is the princess?" The Lord expresses disgust as his eyes scan the scroll ridden with false flattery.

"The King thinks he outsmarts us, sending an illegitimate daughter, but he has dug himself into a hole. The seaport was opened again under the condition of a marriage between Lord Gyllenhaal and the royal princess. What happens if words get out that the old pig failed to honor the terms of our demand?" The Lady asks, sharing her brother's scorn.

"The port is under Gyllenhaal's control. Betraying us means he would risk our retaliation. But there is no reason for him to go this far... unless the girl has other uses besides being a decoy."

"Perhaps she was ordered to take my life." The Lord speaks as he remembers the gleaming dagger underneath your pillow.

"Unlikely. If the girl was an agent, she should at least make an attempt to get closer to you, not run around like a lost kitten." The Lady stares into the golden liquid in her cup. There is no telling what she is thinking about. Lady Maggie's lips tighten into a thin smile before she replies.

"No need to do anything rash for now. My eyes are on her. The girl is harmless."

The Lord's eyebrows relax slightly at his sister's words. If the Lady says you pose no threat, he will leave you be. Not that he worries about you causing any harm. The fortress has eliminated more than a few spies and assassins. But Lord Gyllenhaal remains skeptical. He has yet to understand the intention of Lady Maggie. Without a trueborn princess, House Gyllenhaal will have no claim to the throne as their original plan dictates. The royal family and pesky nobles would never allow such a thing. A bastard daughter is more a less discardable in their eyes.

"You knew the moment she stepped foot in our Keep, did you not?" The Lord turns his gaze to his sister. Lady Maggie has lost interest in having you give the Lord an heir. If what his sister assumes is true, should the solution not be annulling this marriage and letting the girl go.

"The King agreed to our demand so easily. Naturally, I had my doubts... Say, brother. Would you willingly marry me off to your enemy?" Lady Maggie asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The Lord narrows his eyes as his question is met with another question. He stops and thinks for a moment. His eyebrows crease as his mind races through the scenario.

"No." He finally responds curtly. "I would never hand you to the enemy."

Lady Maggie nods in agreement. "Exactly. And neither would the King willingly give up his precious daughter just for a few trade routes. This bargain was risky from the start."

"So why keep her here?"

"Her illegitimate status is not ideal. But a bastard she may be, the girl is still the King's daughter and bears the King's mark. She is more valuable than you may think, brother." The Lady sets her teacup down.

"And one more thing. I ask that you treat your wife with honor and dignity. Regardless of who she used to be, she is married to you, as witnessed by the Gods."

The Lord scoffs at Lady Maggie's request. He finds it ironic that you avoid him like the plague, yet it was his sister that led you to be bound in this unfortunate union. He wonders what his dear sister would ask of him if you were the actual princess. Perhaps he must force himself on a drugged-up wife until you produce a child or something worse. Despite her talks of honor and dignity, Lord Gyllenhaal knows his own kin enough to know she is not above using despicable means to achieve her goals.

"You do not know where her loyalty lies." The Lord retorted. He does not feel obliged to be kind to the King's blood, bastard or not.

"Do not let your anger cloud your judgment. I know you are still mourning, but the girl is not to blame for what happened." Lady Maggie sighs. The topic clearly ticks her brother as the calm atmosphere is destroyed. She knows mentioning the past upsets him but has grown impatient with the Lord's constant brooding over a woman he spent a few weeks with.

A woman whose face he cannot even recall because at the time, his eyesight was temporarily lost due to an infection, having been imprisoned in a dark and filthy place for too long.

"Keep your nose out of my affairs, sister." Lord Gyllenhaal snaps.

The Lord stands up as he has done talking. He pulls the mahogany door open to find you standing there, wide-eyed and petrified at what you have overheard.

"How much did you hear?" The Lord's brows knit together as he questions you in a menacing voice. His pulsating vein on his temple tells you he is not too happy. You open your mouth to explain but can only gasp for air. The apprehension is simply too much. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see he has closed his fingers around the dagger by his side, ready to slit your throat if you can't give a satisfactory answer.

"Lower your voice. I called her here." The Lady speaks up from her seat.

You grip the front of the new gown until blood is drained from your knuckles. The last thing you remember is the steward told you Lady Maggie had requested your presence. You had presumed the Lady wanted to speak to you about the meeting with the royal delegates. But you did not expect to hear the Lord and Lady openly discussing your true identity. This whole time, they've known you are an imposter.

"Sorry to make you wait. Come." Lady Maggie calls to you with an ever-present smile as if nothing has happened. You swear you almost cry. The Lady could not possibly ask you to just squeeze your way past the Lord, could she?

Hearing Lady Maggie's reassurance is good enough for the terrifying man before you. He steps back and flicks his head towards the Lady, signaling that you are allowed to enter. You mutter a greeting to the Lord before walking in, keeping your head as low as you can, fearing it will be taken off your neck if you don't. You don't need to look to know the Lord's gaze is burning on your back as you approach the Lady.

"Beautiful." Lady Maggie compliments. "This one fits her perfectly. Do you not think so, my Lord?"

Her brother completely ignores her question. He follows you back in, closing the door behind him and trapping you between the two of them. The Lady pays no mind to his deathly silence. She asks you to take a seat opposite of her. The Lord leans on the wall, eyeing you like a cat watching a mouse unable to escape from an empty pot it has fallen in.

"Let's start from the beginning and properly introduce ourselves, shall we?"

Lady Maggie's smile vanishes.

"Who are you?"

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