#i used to sing rich girl while gazing out the window on my way to and from school and imagine the meanest rich girls in my class lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fijiangecko · 3 years

Text

The Gr8King

Camboy!Oikawa Tooru x Fem!Reader

+9k words

MDI, Explicit, Smut, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers

Read it on AO3 here

Finding an apartment for college was one of the hardest things you’d ever done. Searching endlessly through ads, you ciphered through countless creeps and dingy houses that were not up to code. Up until the second to last week of summer break, you had no where to stay, but a friend of yours from high school said that he knew a guy looking for a roommate within your price range.

Thanking him a million times, you met up with Tooru Oikawa the next day at a coffee shop and got acquainted. You found him charming, and something clicked between you two immediately, a spark if you would.

Two days after you met him, you were moving in. And very quickly after that you met his best friend; the three musketeers were together at last. Hajime, Tooru and yourself were always together and you all got along extremely well.

You were a middle ground between the two, somewhere between the lines of rude and flirtatious, but it made for some fun nights out. Hajime and yourself are even better friends than Tooru and you, but both of you agree that it’s because of the mutual “hatred”. He became your best friend in a matter of weeks, and people often assumed you were a couple. Every time, it was quickly denied as either of you stated that you would rather shoot yourselves than hook up with one another.

Fast forward almost a year later, and the three of you are sitting on the couch, watching some shit alien documentary Oikawa put on in the background.

“Do you think we should buy a bigger TV, Y/N-chan?” Tooru asks you while shoveling some noodles in his mouth.

“Dude, it’s fine. I mean if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it? Plus, I don’t have the kinda cash for that at the moment.” You stand up, stretching slightly while reaching out to Iwaizumi, seeing as his bowl is empty. “Unless you wanna pitch in?” Laughing softly, he places the bowl in your hand and shakes his head.

“No chance in hell I’m helping you losers buy a bigger television for your apartment.”

“Well that was uncalled for…” Oikawa quietly mumbles. “But! I think I’m just gonna buy a new one. You don’t have to worry about the money or anything. Think of it as our one year anniversary gift!” He wiggles his eyebrows and bumps his elbow into Iwa’s side as you roll your eyes and walk to the kitchen. You’re just glad that you make it to the sink before he can see the bright red on your face.

You weren’t sure when this started, but whenever Tooru teased you, a rush of blood would flow through your system. You’ve known each other for years at this point, and nothing like this has ever happened. You’ve noticed that he’s been building more muscle, almost like he’s glowing. You’re unsure, but not upset.

“How the fuck can you afford that? You’re at practice all the time, and you don’t have a job.” You turn around after washing the dishes, leaning into the counter as you speak.

The two men quickly share a glance before Oikawa speaks. “I have my ways.” The flirtatious tone in his voice lures you in, wanting for the subject to change, and you give in to the pretty boy's ways.

“Whatever Flattykawa.” He sticks out his lip and pouts as you insult him. “I’m gonna turn in for the night, I have an eight thirty lecture and I still have to meet with a TA beforehand.” A yawn escapes your mouth as Hajime stands up from the couch, making his way to you and wrapping his rather large arms around your frame. The man has always been a walking space heater, and you place your arms around him. He rubs his hands on your back before saying goodnight and walking back to the couch. Tooru is still pouting, head turned to look out of the window as he sees his best friend hug his crush. The slight twinge of jealousy lasts for a brief moment, going away as he whispers a brief goodnight to you as well.

A week or so has passed since that night, and things are still the same between yourself and Oikawa. He did end up buying a new t.v., and you got the “old” one for your room. Not only that, but he’s been receiving packages all the time. Almost everyday he gets something shipped to the apartment, and you can’t help but wonder where the fuck all of this money is coming from.

It’s none of your business Y/N. If Tooru’s rich, then there’s nothing you can say about that. He’s just a little luckier than you are, with money, talent and looks he’s practically got no issues… Your thoughts run on and on as you sit at the bar, distracted from the homework on your laptop screen. It’s roughly seven or eight at night on a Monday night, meaning Oikawa’s home since it’s his day off. He doesn’t like being bugged when doing work of any kind, and tends to stay in his room until he’s finished doing whatever it is he’s doing. It was an agreement you both made when you first moved in to learn each other's boundaries and respect privacy at all times.

Your phone dinged on the other side of the counter, and you quickly picked it up to look at the notification. At the same time, Tooru walks through his bedroom door and into the kitchen. His unruly hair was even more disheveled than usual, and his shirt was nowhere to be seen. It’s a rather common occurrence for him to be shirtless, but it’s been happening more and more. Unaware of your gaze, he continued looking for a snack like nothing mattered. You glanced at him quite a few times, admiring the light viel of sweat covering his chest and the soft breaths as he took a few deep inhales.

Not taking any chances of being caught, you went back to checking your phone and saw a text from the group chat you had with a couple of gal pals. They were asking about going to brunch tomorrow and you quickly responded that you were down to clown before placing the phone back on the counter.

“What’s up Tooru?” Your eyes settled back on his frame as he turned to you, a smile grazing his lips. He liked it when you called him by his first name. Not that he’d tell you, but he thought it was cute that you only called him that when you two were alone.

“Nothing much Y/N. Looking for something sweet to eat…”

“Hmm, if I recall you’re the one who ate the last of the rice krispy treats.” You cocked your eyebrow, smirking at his over exaggerated reaction.

“And?” He placed his hand over his heart, “Just because I ate one of your rice krispies treats, and it happened to be the last one doesn’t mean I don’t deserve something sweet.”

“Riiiight, so by one do you mean five? Because I did take the trash out of your room the other day, and there just so happened to be some more wrappers in your bin.”

“Y/N. I would never, and when I say this, I mean never eat all of your snacks. I can’t believe you would accuse me of such a thing.” Oikawa sassed you back, feigning innocence.

“Mhm.” You hopped out of your seat and walked to your room.

“Where are you going?” He calls out, a little dumbfounded that you up and left.

“Hold your panties dude, I’ll be back.” He crosses his arms and leans into the counter as he waits for a few seconds. He can hear your footsteps coming back to the kitchen only a minute or so later, and suddenly a chocolate bar comes flying at him. It hits him square in the chest, but he catches it as it falls.

His lips stretch out into a genuine smile, looking between you and the chocolate. “I love you Y/N,” Tooru says in a sing-song voice, but rips open the wrapper as he speaks. Once again, his words cause a sudden blush to cover your face and you practically run over to your laptop to use it as cover.

“Whatever Tooru.” He chuckles while getting something to drink, and you see that the group chat has popped off during your short encounter. Decisions had been made in a small amount of time, but now you have plans tomorrow.

“What’s got you so happy?” He says, mouth full.

“Oh, just going out with some friends tomorrow. Haven’t seen them in a while so it’ll be fun.” You don’t bother looking up as you type.

“So I won’t be getting a breakfast special?”

“Are you saying you like burnt toast and crispy eggs?” A soft laugh fills the space when Tooru throws the wrapper in the trash. He pads over to the living area and plops down onto the couch.

“Vegging out for the rest of the night?” You call from the kitchen, still engrossed in the group chat.

“I think so. I’m all caught up with everything and a new episode of that alien series came out yesterday.” A hum in affirmation leaves your lips before sitting down next to him.

The rest of the night is quiet as Tooru watches his show and you text your girlfriends, both of you content with being next to one another in comfortable silence.

“So Y/N”, one of the girls smacks her lips once she places her champagne glass on the table, “You and Oikawa together yet?”

A blush erupts over your skin, and wanting to hide you start to shield your face into your shoulder. “No,” you mumble while the girls laugh at your reaction. They’re some of the only people, mind Hajime, that know about your crush. It hasn’t been that long since you’ve developed these feelings, but it’s starting to have an affect on your dynamic with him.

“Well,” another one of your friends starts, “I think you should hop on it girl. He’s fine as fuck, and I can’t help but imagine what he can do with that body-”

“Alright!” Your best friend breaks up the conversation, seeing you get more uncomfortable by the moment. “We don’t need to talk about Oikawa’s anything right now, but I am curious about him buying new things for your guys’ apartment all the time.”

“I don’t know guys. I think he’s just rich, or something,” you shovel some of your food into your mouth, speaking in between bites. The girls look around at each other and shrug it off.

“Maybe he’s got a side business.”

“Or he’s a sugar baby!” They all laugh, minus you who takes the idea seriously.

Maybe he has a sugar mommy or daddy… I mean, he’s got the looks and personality… You pick at the food on your plate as they continue their conversation.

“I would kill to be a sugar baby,” one of them whined, “Then I could sit around and do whatever I wanted.”

“You mean you could sit around and watch porn,” your best friend interjects. Silence fills the space before another round of laughter erupts from the table.

“Okay, but hear me out…” Another girl whispers under the hollers that can be heard across the restaurant. “I started watching this camboy the other week and it’s really hot.”

“Oh, like the guys who jack off on stream?” They sip out of their champagne glasses.

“Yeah, but when you donate money you can request or get things out of it. The guy I’ve been watching has been doing stuff with some vibrators lately, and I can’t get enough.”

“So,” you look up at them all, placing your fork down, “there’s just this whole category of porn where people do what you want.” They all turn and nod, almost eagerly.

“Did you not know about this Y/N?”

“I mean,” you could feel the heat rise on your face again, “I’ve heard of people jacking off on streams, but I didn’t know it was that popular…” Some of them laugh softly at the notion, but others try to explain further.

“You know, you might like it. I can send you the guy's username I’ve been watching. He streams every Monday for sure, and a few other times during the week. I’ll just text you.” She winks and the rest of the morning is just catching up with everyone.

Over the course of the past few days, your curiosity grew about cam culture and what it entailed. It’s been over a year since your last relationship and it has taken a toll on your sex drive. You aren’t about one night stands or friends with benefits, so you just stick to watching, listening and reading porn when you need to get off, and as the days went by you needed the release.

Making sure your room was locked, you opened your phone and searched through the texts to find your friends suggestion.

“Gr8King”, you whisper to yourself while typing the name into the search bar. The livestream pops into frame and the man is fully clad in a slutty maid outfit, teasing his own nipples with his fingers while he speaks ever so softly into the mic. His head is above the screen, allowing you to only see his mid and lower body down to his calves. He’s lean and toned, and you can feel your own arousal growing at the sight. The notification tones going off every few seconds, hundreds of people donating and thousands watching as he moves a hand slowly down his torso, grabbing the hem of the skirt.

“Should we move on to something more,” he moves closer to the mic, breathing softly and talking in a deeper tone, “sensual?” The vibrations from his voice cause chills to run down your spine. You run a hand over your clothed sex, dying for friction while clenching your thighs.

The skirt comes off, falling to the ground and it leaves him bare on screen. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath it, and his cock is already getting hard. The tip is red, leaking with precum as he moves his hand up the shaft, rubbing the head with his thumb and smearing the liquid around.

Messages increase from the viewers, begging him to do something more, but he stays in his position. “I can’t do anything until the masters say I can,” he whines. Never in your life did you think that you would have a thing for guys in maid outfits, but what was left of the outfit and him calling the audience “master” fueled your curiosity.

That’s when you realize the small animations on screen. Based on the donations, there’s a vibrator going on and anytime someone donates they can change it, and if they exceed a certain amount they get called “master” for the night. More people donate, rapidly changing the speed and he bucks his hips into his fist, moaning breathlessly. “Not- not so much,” he releases his hand except for the pointer finger, running it with a feathery touch from the head to the base. A larger notification shows on screen, a “master” donating a rather large sum of money. Once again, the chat waits in anticipation to see what he’ll do next.

“Looks like master wants me to fuck my dirty little fleshlight while the vibrator gets turned up all the way.” He turns to find what’s necessary, and you stare at the screen, biting your lip.

Am I really enjoying this that much? Your eyes are glued to the screen, waiting in anticipation for what’s about to happen. He returns to the frame, toys in hand and resumes the broadcast.

“How could I deny my masters when they’ve given me so much? I need to be a good boy for them..” he purrs into the mic, teasing the head of his cock on the entrance of the clear fleshlight. The vibrator goes to max, and he shoves the toy down his length, moaning viciously.

Embarrassment floods your system as you listen to this random person whisper sinful things into your ear as he reaches his peak. It’s definitely foreign to you, but the throbbing between your legs makes you want to watch more.

Watching the “Gr8King’s” streams becomes almost routine over the next few weeks. You convince yourself that it’s healthy for you to jack off whenever he streams, but deep down you know it’s just an excuse to stare at some guy guy's body while he talks dirty. In fact, this past week you’ve found yourself wanting to donate for the first time, but you don’t have money to just throw around willy nilly so you just lurk.

The stream boots up, this week being just a normal show where he takes suggestions from any amount. You settle into bed, getting prepared for the night’s activities while listening to the voice call you pet names like “cutie”, “gorgeous” and countless others.

It was a stressful week full of work and school, so you decide to take the time now to really let loose and let him guide you to your climax. He talks about nothing in particular, but does as his audience wants while moaning and playing with himself, leaving you panting on your bed, waiting to release at the same time.

Taking all the time in the world, he edges himself multiple times. You can barely hear his words as you desperately try to keep up, but you can feel the knot grow even further in your lower body. After teasing for almost fifteen minutes, he starts to whimper, begging the audience for relief. The way he speaks into the mic is weirdly familiar, just a few phrases here and there catch you off guard, almost as if you know him. This feeling is quickly washed away from the growing knot in your stomach. The audience give into his pleas immediately and you feel the shock waves of pleasure wrack your body. The high washes over and you pant to regain composure. After lying on the bed for a few seconds, you lazily get up and wash up very quickly before hearing a short growl come from your stomach.

Making something quick, you watch some TikToks on the couch as you eat, too entranced by the memes to see Tooru walk out of his room. Once again, he is shirtless, but he spots you on the couch before entering the kitchen.

He slows his pace to admire your flushed skin and glow as you laugh. His heart beats quickly, and he targets the fridge. You can hear him in the next room over, but you don’t bother to call his name, figuring he would join you shortly.

A few moments later, you hear his bedroom door shut and you’re left alone. “What the fuck?” You check the date on your phone, making sure it’s Monday. He usually watches his alien show with me on Monday’s since we can hang out… With a frown, you turn on the t.v. The newest episode plays out as you mindlessly scroll, wondering what was wrong with him.

Two days later, you finish watching a stream, taking longer than usual to clean up and head back out to the living room, wanting to clean some before Hajime comes over. Much to your surprise, it’s being worked on by Tooru, who’s wearing a muscle tank top and some running shorts. He’s panting quietly as he bends to pick up various pieces of trash, but it leaves you stunned.

When did he get so buff? You peered at his abs and pecs through the large slits on the sides of his shirt, but he turns and catches you staring.

“What’s up, Y/N-chan?” He’s got a sly smirk plastered over his face. Your reaction is involuntary heat takes over your body. Without saying anything, you turn and go back to the safehaven of your room.

Tooru is also stunned over your movements, expecting some kind of sassy retort. Then his phone dings in his pocket. Still freaked out over what happened, he checks his messages and sees you’ve texted the group chat you both have with Iwaizumi.

[I think I’m sick, so you guys have fun tonight <3] His brow furrows; now he’s just confused.

“The fuck did you say to her man?” Hajime shoves a piece of sushi into his mouth, talking between chews. Tooru and himself sat at the counter, talking over some movie that all three of you were supposed to watch.

“I made a joke about her staring at me since I was wearing workout clothes, but I thought she was gonna just punch me or something.” He places the chopsticks down on his plate and tries to think. A light goes off in his head, Hajme can see that, but the look is quickly replaced with one of defeat.

“Imayormaynothavebeenavoidingherforthepastfewdays.” All at once, Oikawa speaks in a rushed and hushed sentence, hoping his best friend caught on.

“Excuse me: what.” There’s no playful tone in the air. Hajime popped that balloon and glares daggers into that thick skull of Oikawa’s.

“I,” he plays with his hands, “may or may not have been avoiding her over the past few days.” The first go around was quieter, but Iwa hears it more clearly, finally understanding what’s going on.

“You’re a fucking moron, you know that right?” Hajime places his utensils down, “I’m not going to get in between whatever’s going on here, but you both need to figure shit out. You can’t just avoid her all of the sudden. Not that she’s said anything to me, but she might be going through something and having one of her best friends just avoiding her out of the blue might not be the best thing for her.” Oikawa’s eyes widen at the words of wisdom. He makes a mental note for later, and the night goes on with the two men watching Godzilla for the 100th time.

Monday afternoon rolls around, and Tooru walks through the door of the apartment, finished with his classes. You’re making some tea to get some homework done, and he marches into the kitchen, raiding the pantry and fridge.

“You okay man?” Your brow pops up in concern. He didn’t have practice today, so why was he acting like this?

“Huh?” He turns with some food stuffed in his mouth. After swallowing, he answers, “Yeah, I’m good. Just wanted to talk with some friends on chat tonight so I wanted to eat quickly.” Hesitantly, you nod, returning to your laptop on the counter. What you couldn’t see was how his heart rate picked up after seeing you in the kitchen. He’s been wanting to confront you about his sudden absence in your life, but everytime he sees you he gets extremely nervous and bolts.

Tooru finishes up with whatever, and practically runs to his room, slamming the door. He scolds himself quietly behind the closed door for not saying anything to you.

Rude. You focus on homework for another thirty minutes or so and check the time, knowing that your weekly ritual is gonna be starting in the next fifteen minutes or so. Packing everything up, you move into the bedroom, checking the lock on the door for the thousandth time before settling down.

In minutes, “Gr8King” appears on screen, this time in a sports uniform. He starts out like normal, teasing the audience with his voice, running his hands along his body as countless people donate and chat in real time.

Just as he’s about to take his jersey off, a notification dings somewhere off camera and he tenses. “Excuse me cuties,” in a rush, he moves out of frame, slightly knocking his camera from it’s normal setup.

In the background, you spot a poster on a wall that’s eerily familiar. It’s light blue, with a man jumping high, arms reaching back as he prepares to attack. A net is settled before him as a volleyball is high in the air. There’s words in a foriegn language, except for the large letters at the bottom of the poster: “Argentina”.

This causes you to stop what you’re doing. You’re not entirely sure why, but the poster pokes and prods at the back of your mind. It’s a thorn you didn’t know you had.

Why does this guy have an Argentinian volleyball poster? The live stream continues in the background while your eyes haze over. Why does this bug you so much? It’s not like I know the dude, but he did seem familiar in a sense...

That’s the last piece. Everything falls into place as you hastily slam the laptop close. Your breaths are heavy as you finally understand. He’s not fucking rich, he’s a fucking camboy! Your fingers run themselves through your hair over and over as your brain tries to process what’s happening.

I’ve been watching Tooru fuck himself for weeks and had no idea. I was watching the guy I’m crushing over please himself for thousands of people, and he’s just down the hall. What the fuck. You try to stop fidgeting, but your anxiety starts to spike.

“Maybe it’s not him. Maybe this is just a weird fucking coincidence that some streamer has the same schedule as Tooru and the same volleyball poster,” legs pacing around the room, you try to rationalize the situation. Talking out loud helps you realize what’s happening, but you speak quietly to ensure he won’t be able to hear you. Your heart is hammering in its cage, the rapid beating making you dizzy.

Before making any hasty decisions, you walk out into the kitchen and grab a glass of water. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence…” You pull out your phone, turning the sound all the way down and go back to the stream. You don’t actively watch, bouncing your leg as you lean on the counter, and wait for it to end.

You realize it might be a while, and you creep through the hallway, wary of the floorboards that creak and press your face onto his door, listening as closely as possible. Very softly, you can hear moans and grunts, but no actual words. Maybe he’s just working out...

The stream is still playing on your phone, but you return to the kitchen. Not much later, it ends and you wait patiently, timing everything from when it ends. Preemptively, you fill an extra glass with water and set it down. Five minutes pass, and Tooru walks out of his room, sweaty and shirtless. He turns the corner, taking the glass with a small thanks before going to the living room.

The timing makes sense. If he’s the Gr8King than it would make a lot of sense...

[Hajime we need to talk] you type and send before returning to your room, avoiding Tooru. He notices your disappearance and frowns, debating on fetching you. He misses the time you two used to spend together, and he scolds himself further for not bringing it up.

Taking a deep breath, he tells himself to “man up” and sends, [hey, i'm here for you if you need me :)]. He presses his lips into a line before hitting send and placing the phone on the couch next to him.

“So what’s up? Not to be rude but you never wanna go to the juice bar…” Hajme laughs lightly, hiding how nervous he is to be meeting up with you.

“I need to ask you something,” you sip the green smoothie, smacking your lips in disgust at the flavor. “And I need you to be honest with me.” Making eye contact, you set the cup down on the table.

“Y/N you’re freaking me out,” he meets your eyes and clenches his jaw.

“Well,” the blush rises in your cheeks, “I always joke about where Oikawa gets his money,” Hajime tightens his grip on his own cup, but remains silent. “I thought it was weird that he got packages all the time when he was either at home or at practice. Then I realized when he was at home, he’d lock himself in his room.” Your face is bright red and you take a deep breath in. “A friend of mine suggested something to me a few weeks back, and when I looked into it I saw something I don’t think I should have.” You look up at the ceiling, avoiding Iwa’s strong gaze. You don’t say anything, trying to think of a way to ask in the least embarrassing way possible.

“What is it Y/N?” He speaks with a small voice.

“Istooruacamboy?” You whisper, still looking up. Hajime’s face also breaks out into a blush, but he chuckles at the events. His chuckles grow into full on laughter as he buckles over and you’re stunned into silence. This continues for a few minutes until he calms himself down, wiping a few tears from his eyes while he looks up to you.

“I can’t believe you found out by watching him.” Some would say it’s impossible, but your face turned two shades darker as you slap him on the chest.

“Fucking asshole! You fucking knew, didn’t you?!” You punch him in the bicep for good measure as you scold him. His laughter is brought back while sipping on the rest of his drink.

“He started after the first semester of school, just trying new things. He told me it was interesting to him, and I said I wanted no part. He hated working at that sports store, you know that, and when he started to get popular there was no going back.” You sit silently, letting him explain. “I hope you don’t think that he’s like, sex crazed or anything… He’s just doing it for the money as far as I know and he likes being able to work from home.” He smiles, acknowledging his friends work but finishes his drink in silence, waiting for a response.

“I don’t think any different of him,” you shake your head and begrudgingly take another sip. “I just- It’s hard for me to take in? I think? Like, I wanna be supportive for him, and I’d like to think that I am but that doesn’t change that I want to be more.” Hajmie nods in affirmation, already knowing that you have feelings for your mutual best friend.

“I'm gonna keep saying it, just tell him. Tooru’s a good guy, and you two deserve each other.” You bite your lip and keep silent. “But first you should tell him that you know about the cam stuff.” Iwa is nonchalant about it all, and grabs your cup, finishing off the drink.

You sit on the couch, bouncing your leg but keeping an eye on the package that sits on your lap. It was something for him, but you don’t open it. You just sit there, eye’s on the door, waiting for him to get home from practice.

This is a stupid fucking idea, I should just go back to my room. Your leg bounces faster, and the anxiety bubbles in your stomach. You have no idea what’s gonna happen when he steps through that door, but you were set on telling him tonight.

Just then, the sound of keys entering the lock draws you away from your thoughts, the handle jiggling slightly before it turns and Tooru steps through. He’s dressed in sweats and a tee, hair damp from a shower and a gym bag hanging from his shoulder. He kicks his shoes off and enters the living area, setting the bag down without noticing that you’re watching his every move. Moving into the kitchen, he still doesn’t acknowledge that you’re there as he grabs a glass of water and walks back down the hallway to his room.

“Tooru!” You don’t know what you’re doing, but you need to get this over with. He stops his movements, and pulls an earbud from his left, looking at you with concern.

“Yeah?” He’s unsure what’s causing your outburst, but then he notices the package sitting in your lap, hands softly grasping it to keep its place in your lap. A wave of panic settles down his spine as he slowly spins around and walks to the couch, taking a seat on the other side from you. His eyes are glued to the package, but he notices that it isn’t open.

“I have something I wanted to tell you,” you start softly, placing the cardboard box between you both. He gently sets the glass of water on the glass coffee table and folds his fingers together, settling them on his lap.

“And what’s that?” He’s still shaken, but looks into your eyes.

Your heart starts to pound. What if this is a mistake? He looks like he’s about to throw up. Shaking the doubt from your head, you take a deep breath and hold your gaze. “I know what you do.”

His head cocks to the side, taking in your words. “I’m sorry Y/N, but what does that mean?” He hopes you aren’t alluding to what he thinks you’re getting at.

Another deep breath and you start again, “I know why you spend so much time in your room.”

Tooru’s face flushes with color, the pink hue finding its way onto his skin and he laughs anxiously at your words. “I don’t think I follow.” He’s trying to change the subject, hellbent on finding a way out of this. “Are you saying you know that I masterbate Y/N?” He’s trying to tease you, hoping this conversation would stop and you would hand him his package and be on your way.

Cue your face turning red, but you huff in annoyance, throwing the box at him. “Yeah, if you mean that you’re streaming it.” He catches it and looks at you, eyes are blown wide, and he realizes this is the worst timeline to be alive in. You, on the other hand, are annoyed that you had to say it out loud and stand up, folding your arms and staring him down. “I don’t care, but I wish you would’ve said something to me. As your roommate and your best friend,” ouch, that hurt, “it would’ve been nice to know.”

With that, you march into the kitchen, looking for a way to cool off, but a pair of arms sneak around your waist as you rummage through the freezer.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” he mumbles into your hair. The close contact wasn’t abnormal, but it never felt like this. Your body heats up when his breath hits your skin, but you remain in your place. “I just- I didn’t know how you would react and Hajime kept telling me to talk to you about it, but I always get too nervous to bring it up.”

You spin around, his arms still on your hips, and watch his face carefully. He looks concerned still, but there’s a small pleading in his look. “And why were you nervous?”

Tooru’s face turns a shade darker, “It’s just weird, I guess. You’re one of the only girls in my life that I'm kinda serious about I didn’t wanna loose you if you thought that I just thought about sex all the time.”

Was that a confession? Your head starts to spin when he realizes what just happened.

“I MEAN, uh, you’re one of the only girls that I consider a big part of my life, you know?” He’s frantic and stumbling over his words, but you stay absolutely still. His grip on your hips loosens, he wants to run into his room but sticks it out to see what you do.

Instead, you surprise him by nuzzling yourself further into his neck. “You’re very important to me too, Tooru.” Your voice is soft, and muffled against his neck but he smiles into your head, living in the moment. He wraps his arms around your frame, squeezing you tight against his firm chest.

“I’m kinda serious about you too…” The statement was almost lost to the hum of the a.c. unit, but Tooru caught your words and he stiffened up. You stay exactly as you are, praying to whatever god is out there that this all works out in your favor.

It takes a few seconds for him to come back to earth, realizing how hot your face is against his skin, but once he regains consciousness he chuckles. The vibrations ripple through your body, as you both remain in one another's arms. Your first thought was that he was laughing at you, and the panic settles under your skin. He can feel you start to pull away, but tightens his grip on your body, effectively trapping you in this position.

“Iwa-chan’s right, we are idiots.” Everything is so confusing. Does he like me back? Is this a joke? What does Hajime have to do with any of this? Countless thoughts along these lines run through your head, and Tooru knows this. “We’ve both been pining over each other for months.”

His words process with high speeds as you pull back. He had loosened his grasp, but his hands remained on your sides as you both stared into each other's eyes. You search his for answers, while Tooru finds comfort in yours.

He laughs breathlessly once he can see your body relax, and he dips down to meet your lips. Tooru’s movements are fluid, moving both hands up to your jaw while tilting his head. You gasp once his soft lips meet yours. They taste like his dumb chapstick that he carries around everywhere.

Tooru takes it slow, moving at your pace while humming into the kiss. Pulling back after a few seconds, you lean forward to catch his lips before he detaches himself. Rubbing a thumb on your cheekbone, he flashes the most brilliant smile. In the year you’ve known him, this is the most genuine and beautiful thing you’ve ever seen him do, and you can see it in his eyes.

“Y/N,” his voice is ever so soft, gliding in the air from his lips to your ears. Tooru’s eyes hold nothing but adoration in them as you stare into each other's eyes. “I don’t want to be serious with anyone but you.”

The bright blush returns to your cheeks, the warmth between your two bodies rising exponentially. His thumb doesn’t stop moving across your cheekbones. He's in total bliss as nothing in the world could matter more than what was happening at this moment in your shared apartment.

You smile up at him and grab onto his hand that's stroking your face, and just hold it closer to your skin. After a light squeeze, you both shift positions to hug once more, Tooru's arms latching around your waist and yours around his neck.

"Thank you," he states, the world muffled from your hair as he has lodged himself in the crook of your neck.

"For what?" You mumble back, rubbing an arm up and down his neck.

A deep chuckle causes your body to rumble, and a soft breath cascades down your neck before he pressed feathery kisses behind your ear. They're lighter than air, but you can sense he's holding back a bit. "For not being upset with me, for putting up with me, for accepting me, for everything." His whispers are woven into your skin, goosebumps rising up and down your spine as he speaks.

You push yourself further into his chest, a silent affirmation that everything is okay and will be okay. He smiles as he continues to press his lips to your neck, humming in the silence.

After a few minutes more of embracing one another Tooru pulls away, hands grazing your hips as he stares deeply into your eyes. His chocolate iris’ swirl with several emotions as you take in the vulnerability. You have only known Tooru as the charming, flamboyant character he puts on around almost everyone else. Maybe once or twice in your year of living with him have you seen this side of him, in which he offers himself as he is, not as who he wants to be perceived as.

Tooru presses a quick kiss to your lips and puts some pressure on your hips, signalling he wants to move. You both relocate to the couch, where he traps you in his arms and lap.

“I’m curious,” you reposition to look up at him, but he chuckles at your wide and curious eyes. “How did you find out about my streams?” A teasing grin makes its way on to his lips and your brain short circuits.

“Uh.. about that…” You purse your lips, looking anywhere but him, embarrassed of the insinuation of your actions.

Tooru breath fans against your neck, his face dipping down into that crook once more while letting out a low laugh. Sparks fly between you two when his lips brush your ear. He whispers, “You’ve watched me, haven’t you?”

With lightning speed, you snap your face to match his, but he’s quick to recover the initial shock with a deep kiss. He cranes his neck to further the kiss, pulling at your bottom lip with his own. Still startled by his teasing, you give in easily to his antics and within seconds his tongue has entered your mouth.

A low growl escapes him all while you succumb to his movements. His hand snakes up your side, settling itself on your rib below your breast. Tooru rubs his thumb in that spot, but you are lost in his taste to feel his hand.

You start to move in sync with him, moving together and letting each other take the reigns. Oikawa adores your feisty spirit, and when it starts to show through your movements, it only excites him more. You explore his mouth with your tongue, and suck on his lower lip as he slowly moves his hand back down your sides to cup your ass.

Now that you’re in control of your actions, you feel his hand stop right above your butt, almost as if he’s asking permission, but you grab a hold of his wrist and shove it down. That hand lets go of his arm and down to the hem of his shirt. A few fingers make contact with his toned stomach, and he shivers at the cold sensation.

“Impatient much?” Tooru repositions you so you’re straddling him. You don’t break off the kiss and place your hands on either side of his face, the tips of his hair tickling your fingertips. His large hands grasp under your thighs as he hoists the both of you up and off of the couch. Hastily he moves down the hall and into your room, busting through the door and gently he places you down on the edge of your mattress.

You pull away, breathless and stare into his eyes once more. The tension in the room is thick, but warm and comforting. He smiles at the look in your eyes, knowing that you’re in no way anxious of what’s about to happen.

“Are you sure about this Y/N? We don’t have to do anything before the first date.” His smile is intoxicating, and he doesn’t want to pressure you in any way.

“I want you Tooru, I’m good,” this time you rub a thumb across his cheekbone in reassurance. Smiles on both of your faces, he dips back down to capture your lips and push you onto your back.

Your mattress is firm underneath you, the bed frame shifting under the weight of two people. The cold sheets scrunch under your back contrasting the warm embrace of Oikawa as he dips down on top of you, running a hand through your hair.

“Do you trust me?” He speaks while hovering over your body. You push yourself up to meet his lips, giving him a quick peck on the side of his mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes then.” You laugh and lay back down, pulling the front of his shirt to pull him down with you.

Tooru laughs into the kiss, pressing his chest into your own. All of his kisses are electrifying, the spark runs up and down your spine while you both like with one another.

You take the next step and tug at the hem of his shirt while wrapping your legs around his lower half. His skin raises in temperature but he follows suit, practically tearing the fabric off of himself. You watch Tooru get shirtless and fully take in his figure.

It's not like you haven't seen him like this, but this is the first time you've ever actually took a good, long look at Oikawa's figure (knowing it was him, at least). He works out regularly for volleyball and maintains a good diet, and it shows. His chest is firm when you place a hand on it, and his abs create a valley down his stomach.

As you feel him up and down, Tooru stares at your face as it scrunches curiously. "Like what you see cutie? It shouldn't be anything new."

You blush but smack his chest in retaliation. A low laugh escapes his lips, but he sneaks a hand to the bottom of your shirt, poking a few fingers into your stomach in a wordless question of what to do. You squirm in your position and he helps remove your shirt.

Arms cover your chest instantly as you realize you're wearing one of your older bras that isn't the most flattering thing on the planet.

Noticing the shift in tone, Tooru gently unfolds your arms. "None of that Y/N." You don't put up any resistance as he speaks sweet and salty worlds into your ear. His hands are coarse and rough, calloused from years of training but he untouched you with a softness, almost as if he was handling a dove.

He kisses your neck making his way down your chest while reaching underneath you, unclasping the bra and throwing it onto the floor.

With your breasts exposed, Oikawa pins your arms on either side and continues down your clavicle, down through the valley between your chest. You whimper when he suddenly takes one of your nipples into his mouth, gently biting and sucking of the soft bud.

Instinctually you squeeze your thighs together, but he stands between them and he hums into your breast, knowing you're starting to grow impatient. Tooru's other hand moves to the opposite breast, kneading it in his palm.

A soft moan escapes your lips and you roll your hips into his, shock waves of pleasure wrack your body while your cunt starts to throb.

Oikawa moves further down your stomach, reaching the button of your pants. He peers up at you, pupils dilated and hungry. You nod and lift your hips while he removes both the pants and panties you were wearing.

He stands at the edge of the bed, removing the rest of his clothes and let's his cock spring free. It's red at the tip, which reaches up to his abs from being hard.

Tooru’s hips meet yours, laying his long cock over your bare stomach while rubbing soft circles into your thighs. “Look at how deep I’m gonna be inside of you cutie.” A quiet whimper leaves your lips, wrapping your legs around his waist in a silent plea. His eyes burn into your skin.

“Tooru, please…” The desperation in your voice only spurs him on as he drinks you in, lying bare, begging for him. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and his dick hardens further at the sound of your voice.

A switch flips in his brain once you swirl your hips, and a smirk pulls at his lips. He leans forward, pressing his body into your, getting dangerously close to your ear and fanning hot breath over your skin. Chills erupt from the sensation and make their way across your body, causing a whimper to involuntarily escape your mouth when his hot skin presses into your cold chest. “What do you want, Y/N?” Tooru’s voice is quiet, but the vibrations from his words have an effect on your body you thought wasn’t possible. He presses feathery kisses into the sweet skin on your neck, causing you to tilt your head.

“I want-” Your voice is breathless as you search for words. “I want you to-” Suddenly, he slips his dick in between your folds, slowly moving his hips up and down, getting himself ready with your slick. The electricity of his movements force a moan through your throat, Oikawa relishing in the sound of your voice as he uses his thumb moves to apply pressure on your clit.

Still breathing hot air onto your neck, he mumbles, “You want me to fuck you, is that it?” Your eyes shut as a thousand tiny confirmations leave your body, physical and not. He revels in the moment, realizing the control you both have over each other. He can’t help wanting more of you, all of you. Your aura is intoxicating, and Tooru feels drunk off of your presence.

“Please.” He continues grinding his length down your folds. “Just fuck me already.” Your voice is raspy, pleading for movement, connection, anything. Arms folding around his neck, you grind harder into his cock while he continues to rub the sensitive bud.

“So impatient.” His voice is dark, sultry and enticing. It draws you in, leaving you stunned and you can’t think straight anymore. “I bet you’ve wanted this. Watching me stream, you got to see all of me little cutie,” Tooru readjusts himself, placing the tip at your entrance, drawing circles with it. “Now I get to see all of you.”

He slowly pushes forward, letting his dick get sucked in to you as you cry out at the contact. Oikawa starts to lose himself at the feeling of your pussy when it twitches. His eyes never leave the sight of his cock disappearing into you.

You take a moment to breath as his hips lay flush with yours, but you take action and raise your hips. He hisses at the movement, not expecting you to set the pace so quickly.

Snapping out of it as you move your hips back, Tooru moans loudly and grabs one hip and leans over you, placing his other hand next to your face. His face gets inches in front of yours, matching your movements and leans in to take your lips once more.

His hips move back and forth, building up speed through both of you ravenous moans and whimpers. Through the sounds and movements, you feel his cock penetrate you with endless force, as if it fits perfectly inside of you.

You moan his name as Tooru pounds into you, scratching at his back from the waves of pleasure. Feeling you clench around him almost teasingly, the hand on your hip moves to your clit, and Oikawa starts to rub circles.

"Fuck Tooru!" You press your nails harder into his skin and he growls at the sensation. You can feel yourself getting close, the knot building larger with every second.

He pulls back from your lips and looks at your face. Your eyebrows are scrunched and your eyes are shut. The way his hips move is better than you could’ve imagined, even more sexual than his streams. Oikawa shifts his position to hit you deeper, his dick just barely hitting your cervix.

"I'm close," you mumble from bruised lips. He can’t hold himself back much longer and his thrusts become erratic. Tooru plants his lips on your ear, speaking a thousand words to you which you’re unable to hear. His thrusts and deep and fill you to the brim. The pleasure becomes too much for you to be able to focus and with one thrust you tense and the knot snaps.

He moans your name loudly when he feels your walls clench down on him. Swiftly, Tooru pulls out and finishes on your stomach, white ropes decorating your soft skin.

His head is still next to yours, but you’re both panting. It takes a few seconds for both of you to come back to your senses, but he prys himself up and off of you, looking down on his work. “You’re gorgeous Y/N, just fucking stunning.” He admires your glowing form while you stare at him, a smile adorning your features.

Oikawa moves first, placing another soft kiss to your lips before going to the bathroom for a warm towel. You lay in bed, just thinking about everything. How did I get here? You never thought that watching camboy porn would ever lead to you getting with the guy you’ve wanted for a while now, but if it works out then it works out you guess.

He returns a few moments later and cleans you up, throwing the rag with the rest of your clothes and climbs into the sheets, maneuvering you onto his chest where he cuddles you and runs a hand through your hair.

You close your eyes, breathing onto his bare chest and take in the beat of silence. You can’t see it, but Tooru looks down at you and smiles. You’re finally his. He can finally hold you in his arms and give you all the love he thinks you deserve. His heart swells at the notion, and makes a mental note to thank Iwaizumi later in general since he feels in a giving mood.

Oikawa feels your breath even out, your chest rising and falling in a slow pattern. Your senses are drifting from you, but you’re able to make out a few things before you pass out. Tooru places a kiss on the crown of your head, pressing his lips into your hair and he whispers something before you completely fall asleep.

“I love you Y/N.”

321 notes · View notes

mirasolis · 3 years

Text

My Star, Your Light

Punz x Reader

Tangled AU

Part One

★──────────★─────────★

This is just you and Punz thrown into the world of Tangled, as requested by @thequeenofuwu . We are both Punz simps, I know it.

This is going to be in several parts, and I will link each part when I finish them under here.

Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy!

★──────────★─────────★

This, is the story of how I was killed. But don’t worry, it’s a happy story, and truth be told, it’s not even mine. This is the story of a girl I met, named (Y/N). It all starts with the stars.

Years ago, a piece of the stars fell from the skies, and from it sprouted a magical, silver flower. Now this flower had the ability to give you your greatest heart’s desire, if you knew what to to say; or rather, if you knew what to sing. People had searched for the flower for centuries with goals of becoming rich or powerful.

But then one day, a man named Dream had stumbled upon it and decided to keep it hidden from the world so he could one day use it. He made it keep him alive, while he grew with power and became immortal, but he had no purpose for it yet.

Even more centuries passed, and a kingdom grew. It was bright and prosperous and happy. All except for the beloved King Phil and Queen Samantha, who had longed for a child of their own to have. Now, around this time, people get pretty desperate, and royal scholars had found research about the star flower, and decided that the whole kingdom was to search for this magic flower. The kingdom loved their rulers and respected them that they searched for days on end.

Now, back with the immortal Dream. He still had no proper way to use the power of the star flower, and continuously hid it. But by chance, he left it exposed to the naked eye when he heard that people were searching for it. When the people found the flower, they rejoiced, for their king and queen would smile once more. The monarchs conceived their first child, a beautiful baby girl. I’ll give you one guess. Yep, that’s (Y/N). To celebrate her birth, the kingdom released silver lanterns in the sky to represent the stars from which the flower had come from, all while shooting stars passed by. Later that year, the king and queen gave (Y/N) her younger brothers, Wilbur and Techno.

For a while, the kingdom was happy. But all that ended when (Y/N) was almost two years old.

Dream had plotted with his crew, men who went by the names George, Sapnap, Badboyhalo, and Callahan. They stormed the castle, sneaked in, and stole away the princess. The kingdom’s soldiers and people searched across the lands, but she was nowhere to be found. Deep within the woods, a magical barrier disguised the home of Dream and his crew from sight. Within that, there was a tower from which you could only enter through the window and a rope. There, the princess was hidden away, with her rapidly growing (H/C) hair coloured with silver streaks. There, (Y/N) was raised, never seeing the outside world again.

Dream, posing as her brother, was one day tending to (Y/N)’s hair when she asked a question. He hummed in response. “Why can’t I go outside?”

“Well (Y/N), the world outside is a dangerous place. I don’t want you to get hurt or used for horrible means. Keeping you here means you can be safe,” Dream responded.

(Y/N) nodded silently, humming a gentle tune.

But the king and queen never stopped hoping that their child would come back. And the barriers cutting (Y/N) from the rest of the world could not hide it all. Every year, they continued the tradition of releasing the star lanterns every year. They hoped that this could serve as a signal so that one day, their princess would return.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

17 years later…

A young girl snuck around, looking for her companion, a small multicoloured sheep named Puffy. Dream had given her the sheep not too long ago and they already bonded nicely. They were currently playing some hide and seek.

“Oh Puffy!! Where are you?” (Y/N) called out in a singsong tune. The sheep was currently hiding along the flower bed that was on the window sill of the tower entrance. (Y/N) looked around with wide eyes. “Well, I guess she’s back inside…

“…NOT!”

(Y/N) manoeuvered her hair to wrap around Puffy and pulled her from her hiding place, dangling her in the air. She laughed as she grabbed Puffy and held her in her arms, snuggling into her wool.

“Oh Puffy, I know you want to go outside, but I can’t bring you there. We just have to wait ‘til Dream gets back so you can get some grass. Besides, we’ve got plenty to do in here!”

(Y/N) danced around, her growing as long as the tower was tall, and tall it was. She bounced from activity to activity, bringing Puffy along for the ride. She finally slowed down when she gathered her paints and illustrated a beautiful depiction of her gazing at the stars.

“I wonder what they’re like…maybe Dream will let me see them this year…”

Meanwhile…

Three men were jumping along the tops of the castle, looking for the right building to infiltrate. One wore a mask coloured with red, yellow, and black, and was called Ponk. The next one wore a significant amount of purple clothing, such as his purple coat and shoes, and was appropriately called Purpled. The last man wore a white plain shirt with leather cuffs covering his forearms and keeping the sleeves in place, and over that he wore a very light grey vest on top. He had blonde hair and he went by the name Punz.

The three of them were a team of mercenaries and they were on their latest job, stealing the tiara of the first princess. While Purpled and Ponk were making sure they had found the Crown Room, Punz was holding onto a castle tower and looking at the view.

“Guys you gotta look at this view!” He exclaimed.

“Dude, we don’t care about the view, just get over here and grab the crown!” Purpled urged.

Ponk scoffed. “Dude, you can find another view like this when we get the money!”

Punz brushed them off and dropped down with the two men lowering him down an escape rope. He stepped down quietly, gazing at the beautiful crown adorned with jewels in front of him. Just as he had his hands on it, a guard sneezed. As common courtesy goes, Punz just naturally said bless you, grabbed the rope, then signalled Ponk and Purpled to pull him up. About halfway to the ceiling the guards turned around and looked up to face Punz who was waving the crown around triumphantly, smirking.

In a hurry, the guards organized themselves and searched for the mercenaries while they were long gone, running into the forest, away from the main city.

With (Y/N)…

(Y/N) could hear the calls of her brother asking her to let down her hair, as the tale goes. She bounded for the window, excitedly letting her hair down while looking at Puffy.

“Puffy! This is it! I’m going to ask Dream today!” She declared as she pulled Dream up to the tower room. As he entered, he pulled off his cloak and took off his mask, revealing some wounds on him. Dream set down his items, leaving a nice patch of grass for Puffy by the window.

Dream sat down in a chair, while (Y/N) rushed around to make everything comfortable for him. She hummed a song, healed Dream quick and got straight to the point.

“So, Dream, I was wondering…I turn 18 tomorrow, I become an adult and I was wondering…if I could see the special stars!!”

Dream looked in her direction in alarm. He was thinking to himself. His plan would soon come into fruition, but if she left now, it would all go south.

“Oh, (Y/N), I think you mean the regular stars,” Dream tried to sway her mind.

“But Dream, these stars are special! The patterns of these stars are not constant. These move in every which way every year, and they only appear on my birthday Dream! I want, no, need to see them up close, and understand what they are!”

“Oh please! (Y/N), you’re too fragile for the outside world! I keep you here because its to keep you safe! It’s a scary world out there! I do this to protect you, you’d be taken advantage of! And imagine what would happen if they found out what your hair could do! (Y/N), please promise me to never ask about leaving this tower again? You must understand!”

(Y/N) contemplated her choices in her mind before she agreed. “Okay…”

Dream picked up his cloak and headed for the window to leave. “I’ll be in the village talking with George and Sapnap. I’ll see you in a bit.”

As (Y/N) let her brother down to do business, she looked at the world below longingly.

In another part of the forest…

Punz, Purpled, and Ponk were running through the forest still, hopping over logs and lakes. Punz stopped to catch a breath when he looked at a wanted poster of him and began to panic.

“No no no no no. I can’t believe this! They drew my face wrong!” He showed the poster to his partners, and they saw that Punz’ nose was severely misshapen and his hair was too long.

“Dude, who cares?!” Purpled questioned.

Ponk urged the two of them along until they came upon a short cliff they had to climb. Punz turned around to face them and told them, “Okay, you guys launch me up there, and I can pull you up.”

Purpled and Ponk shook their heads. “Give the crown first,” Ponk demanded while gesturing to the bag that held the crown.

“Ouch, that kinda hurts. You guys don’t trust me? After all our escapades as fellow mercs?” Punz asked.

“The satchel. Now,” Purpled ordered.

Punz sighed, resigning the bag to them. He climbed the rock with their help, reaching the top.

“Now pull us up Punz,” Purpled requested.

Punz laughed. “Sorry, can’t carry any more!” He flashed the satchel before slinging it around his body and running off while hearing his partners’ screams.

Punz kept running, and the castle guard was on his tail. Even worse, they were accompanied by one of the Crown Princes, Technoblade. Punz grimaced and recalled Techno’s history as a renowned fighter, leading the kingdom’s army and winning every battle. He urged his legs to work harder, to run faster.

Punz hopped through a fallen tree’s branches, cutting off most of the palace guard. Technoblade made it through and continued giving chase to the white-clad mercenary.

“We have him now, Carl!” Techno declared to his faithful horse.

Punz kept running, grabbing a forlorn vine and swinging around a tree to knock Technoblade off his horse and taking his place. Punz grabbed the reigns and tries to ride Carl away from the guard, but the horse tries bucking him off. They go back and forth, between trying to ride forward and grabbing the crown, not noticing that they were heading for a cliff.

The satchel flew away from the fighting pair’s grasp and landed on a single branch on a tree dangling sideways on the cliff’s edge. They wasted no time in reaching for the bag, not knowing the tree was breaking until it was too late. They fell off the edge, the crown ending up in Punz’ hands.

After that nasty fall, Punz woke up and sighs in relief when he sees the crown is still in his possession. He hears the distant neighs of a familiar horse, and looks for a place to hide. He tries feeling for a hole big enough for him to fit it, when his hand passes through a tree, a green glow around the part where his hand entered. Taking a risk, he threw himself into the trees and ended up in a dark cave just as Carl passed by.

Punz let out a tense breath and walked along the cave’s path until he came into a clearing. A tall, majestic tower loomed over him, casting a shadow over the land. Behind it, he could see a few houses. But the tower piqued his interest more. Maybe there were more valuables inside. He smiled and got to work climbing the tower using the sturdy vines that lined its walls.

After a tedious while of climbing (thankfully, no one had spotted him), he burst through the window doors and entered the tower’s main room. He sighed, opened the satchel, and took a breath, looking at the crown. “Alone at last.”

Then he was knocked out. Simple as that.

(Y/N) held the cast iron frying pan in her hands, retracting it from its position from when it knocked out the intruding Punz. She shrieks and dashes away from Punz’ unconscious body, slowly creeping up on it to make sure it was safe. She checked to make sure he wasn’t dangerous, flipping away a piece of hair that covered his eyes. (Y/N) leaned in closer when he suddenly opened an eye. In a panic, (Y/N) smacked him in the head again, not considering the possibility of a concussion.

(Y/N) looked for a place to hide the man while saying to herself and to Puffy, “I knocked him out! All on my own! Holy! If this isn’t enough to convince Dream that I can be let out of here for one day, then I don’t know what will!!”

She ended up stuffing him in an empty closet, being successful after a few tries. She looked at the satchel the mysterious man dropped, paying attention to the small shine emanating from it. Curious, she opened the pouch, revealing a piece of metal embedded with several precious jewels. She looked at Puffy, trying it on like a bracelet. Puffy’s wool shook with her head in denial. She peeked through one of the jewels, but that didn’t seem to be the purpose. Finally, (Y/N) tried putting the piece on her head. It looked like it fit perfectly. Then Puffy shook her head again. Then a noise sounded from below.

The girl heard her brother’s calls and she grew excited. As per usual, she let down her hair, and pulled Dream up. (Y/N) was very eager to tell Dream about her surprise.

“Dream! Oh you won’t believe what I have to show you!! It’s a big surprise!” (Y/N) bragged.

“Oh? Well I bet mine is bigger than yours!” Dream chimed.

“Doubt it!”

“Well, I am going to be making you your favourite dinner tonight!”

“Well, Dream? There’s something I want to tell you…” (Y/N) began to segway the conversation into her being able to leave the tower.

“(Y/N), I hate leaving you after fights. Especially when I’ve been in the right the entire time,” Dream vocalized.

“Okay, so I was thinking about what you said earlier today…” (Y/N) began to speak, but was interrupted by Dream.

“I hope you’re still not set on seeing those stars.”

“I’ve told you! They aren’t stars!” (Y/N) insisted. “I’m leading up to that!”

“I thought we were gonna drop the issue (Y/N),” Dream said sternly.

“No, Dream! I’m just saying you think that I’m not strong enough to take care of myself.”

“I know you’re not strong enough, take it from me.”

“Would you just-“

“We are done.”

“Why can’t you just-“

“I SAID WE ARE DONE.”

(Y/N) shrunk away from her brother, never hearing Dream’s voice so loudly before.

“I…all I wanted to tell you is that, I know what I want for my birthday now…”

Dream, fed up with me, asked coldly, “What.”

“Umm, the paints that dissolve with water? And perhaps a canvas? No bigger than my torso.”

“You know that it’ll be a long trip? And I’ll need to take someone with me?”

“I just thought it would be better than, than the ‘stars’.”

“Will you be fine (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine right here.”

“…Okay. I’ll be back soon.” As Dream prepared to leave for the trip, he looked back at (Y/N) one more time. “Love you, sis.”

“Of course, brother.”

As Dream descended from the tower, he thought to himself. He needed to carry out his plan fast. He rushed to his house to discuss with George, his right hand man. They set off, not for paints, but for items needed to extract (Y/N)’s power from her.

(Y/N) wallowed in her pity in the tower, then remembered the whole ass human in her closet. Puffy hid behind (Y/N)’s legs while she opened the closet doors.

The man just slumped out. Like a limp noodle. It made her jump, but ultimately decided to tie him up in a chair with her hair while hiding in the shadows.

#punz x reader #i love punz #punz mcyt #punzop #punz #dream smp punz #i am a simp #i simp for punz #god why am i so lonely #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt #minecraft #tangled #tangled AU #i simp for punz and i know you do too #if any mcyt sees this no they didnt

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thescoundrelprincess · 3 years

Text

That Same Old Voodoo Follows Me About

A Pirate Jugenea Fan Fiction (Serafin and Manuela)

I hope you guys enjoy this one! I included a lot of Pirate references LOL (obviously)

Includes alternate deleted scenes from The Pirate

Warning: Very MA...

“For you can doooooo nooooo wronggggg…”

Manuela could feel Serafin start to lean towards her neck. In the matter of a second, she feels his warm, wet tongue against her skin, and his cheek touching hers. Immediately, Manuela feels this strange but somewhat familiar adrenaline rush to her stomach—caught in the moment, she was relishing in this unfamiliar but somehow requisite feeling she felt was right. She couldn’t help but blankly stare ahead; she was frozen in time. Yet she raised her eyebrow, perplexed at this wonderful feeling. She instinctively nuzzled her cheek against Serafin, while crooning against him. After a few moments, Serafin slowly started to pull away, but barely. His face was a centimeter away from hers.

Manuela felt entranced. Inside her, she could feel an uncanny magnetism towards Serafin. Her lips started to tingle, as if Serafin held ice a millimeter away from them, contrasting with the heat protruding from them. However, it was not exactly like that; this was a magnetic tingle. She needed her lips pressed on something soft, inviting, enticing…

After singing to him for what felt like an eternity, she practically memorized every trace, feature, and detail of his face; his lips looked particularly inviting. She glanced down at him. More and more, as if in slow motion, she could feel her lips inching towards Serafin’s; she couldn’t control it. She didn’t want to either. It’s almost as if she pulled away, she would’ve been in pain. Wanting to get lost in this bizarre but wonderful feeling, Manuela’s lips finally met Serafin’s perfectly. Feeling another adrenaline rush, her mind raced and she questioned herself; why did this feel so good? She couldn’t point her finger on it. Whether that was because she actually didn’t know, or because she was pleasantly distracted by Serafin’s soft lips, she concluded it didn’t matter at the moment. All she knew was that this feeling was right, and she didn’t want to stop. Manuela could feel herself sinking into his lips, never wanting to part from them. She grasped his shoulders.

Serafin almost melted at Manuela’s passion. Finally, the girl he’d been longing for, locking her lips with his, voluntarily; he could feel the blood rushing to his groin. Hadn’t she ever kissed a man before?

Serafin resisted the urge to devour her mouth, and slowly pulled away from her sensuous, ruby red lips. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. After he pulled away a few inches, her eyes were still closed, her lips still parted. Her hands were glued to his shoulders. He could feel her hot breath against his mouth. A few more inches, he could see her chest heaving; her breasts. She opened her eyes, and he met her gaze.

“You don’t know how long I was waiting for that,” Serafin stated, bewildered.

Manuela didn’t say anything. Serafin noted the cloudiness in her eyes, it seemed to be a look of desire. She had the same look in her eye after he kissed her that night, pulling her out of the hypnotic trance she was in. Only this time, she didn’t run away, traumatized and upset. The flashbacks started to flood back to him.

Manuela cleared her throat.

“Darling,” Manuela whispered.

“Don’t talk,” Serafin leaned into her cheek and kissed it, lingering his lips over her skin. He could feel the heat radiating from her cheek.

Serafin knew at some point the militia and guards would come barging in. But, he didn’t care at the moment. Although he loved being in Manuela’s arms, finally, he wanted to sit on the couch only a few feet away. The floor was uncomfortable for both of them. He grabbed her hands and intertwined his fingers into hers.

“Let’s sit on the couch, the floor is rather hard.”

Serafin began to sit up, and Manuela just seemed out of it. She looked like she was in hypnosis again. He continued, standing up, pulling her up with him, and they walked over to the couch together.

Serafin plopped on the couch and laid down. Manuela sat on the edge. She started to stroke his cheek and his hair. She gave him a loving smile, full of warmth. He smiled back at her.

They sat together like this for a number of minutes, slowly running their hands over each other, innocently. However, Manuela’s thoughts were running ragged. Not about the militia coming, but about Serafin. She absolutely hated the man until now; she suddenly craved him, like food. It was such a weird feeling, but once again, strangely familiar. She had these similar thoughts when reading about Macoco, but now it was over Serafin. She let her thoughts sink in; this whole time, Serafin had been posing as Macoco. When he came to stop her marriage to Don Pedro, it was Serafin. It was him who had that whip, it was him that kissed her hand when she fainted, it was him that was dancing in the street, outside her window… it was him that brought her out of that unusual hypnotic trance, and ran his tongue over hers. It was him that brushed her breast. She felt herself blush. Why did these thoughts overpower her mind like this? She felt so tingly inside, but it felt good. She couldn’t figure out why Serafin, just pressing his lips against her hand, could cause her to faint, when her soon-to-be husband, Don Pedro, would kiss her lips and she’d feel nothing. This man was different. So dominant, masculine, intriguing, enticing, handsome, sexy… she dreamed of a man like this.

Serafin noticed her lost in thought; over time, she stopped touching him. He was still so aroused by her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

“What are you thinking about, Manuela?”

Manuela’s thoughts came to a halt. She looked at him, her cheeks beet red. She tried to disguise the fact that she was thinking about him, in this particular way.

“Oh, nothing darling. I’m just worried about the police coming in here. We really should hide, you know. Why, with me throwing all the antiques and glass around, they must’ve heard us by now!” Manuela began to panic. “We must hide!! I know the perfect spot too. There’s a bedroom down the hall, with an amazing lock! We can just lock the door and they’ll never know, because Don Pedro always locks the doors when he leaves the house! We must go! We MUST!”

Serafin knew she was worried, but he wasn’t convinced. He slowly ran his fingertips up and down her arm. Manuela shivered nervously. Butterflies in her stomach flew back and the feeling intensified. Serafin knew she was thinking about him. He knew under that prim exterior, there were depths of emotion, romantic longings… he just needed to unleash them. But, he went along with her banter. Although, he also knew she was sincere about hiding. He thought it was a good idea.

“Okay Manuela, but how come this room was unlocked? And won’t Don Pedro just unlock all the doors, looking for us?” Serafin was being realistic. “After all, there’s no way of avoiding this… I sort of deserve it. I’ve caused a lot of trouble. I’m just glad you're here.”

Manuela thought hard and deep about his questions. He was right, but she didn’t care. Her intuition told her to go to one of the bedrooms, alone with him. She felt there was something good waiting for her, and she knew they would be safe.

“Trust me, I know a place where we'll be safe. Well, where you’ll be safe, I mean. But we must go in through the bedroom first, I found a secret room when I first walked through this house with Don Pedro.

He doesn’t know that I know about it. Let’s go Serafin!”

Manuela remembered there was a secret room, almost like a cellar, under the bedroom floor. She saw the latch one time, the carpet in the room covering it. However, it didn’t blend well. When Don Pedro went to get drinks to toast to their engagement, she quickly investigated the latch, and opened it. There was a staircase, and it looked like there was a lamp, furniture, and piles of gold and jewelry in drawers. She figured this must be where he hides his riches, being the mayor of the town.

“Okay, I trust you. But must we go right now? I feel like resting, after running around avoiding your treacherous attack, hurling all sorts of objects in my direction.” They both chuckled.

“I’m sorry about that, darling.”

Serafin sat up and gave Manuela a hug. He embraced her with passion. This was the crazy girl he loved.

Suddenly, outside the house, they heard carriages approach. Trumpet horns, a crowd; just a ton of noise. Then, a banging on the front door.

“Oh no, we must hide now! That must be them. They’ll be here any minute!” Manuela grabbed Serafin’s hand and tried to pull him off the couch. Her force startled him, but he just did what she said.

“Oh, you MUST take this! You never know when you’ll need it.” Manuela quickly bent down and grabbed his whip off the floor. “This isn’t a joke, you know, they could walk in at any minute! The doors to this room are wide open!”

Serafin smiled at her eagerness to protect him, but confused over her sudden change of mood. She was so calm and now she was so hyper, anxious. He took the whip from her and started to follow her, trying to catch up. This house really was huge; they took a right out of the room, then a left, went down an enormous hall, then another right, up some stairs, left, and then she stopped. They were standing in front of the master bedroom doors.

Manuela knocked on the door. They waited a minute. No response. Manuela grasped the door handle and the door flew open. He was confused as to why these doors were unlocked, when Manuela said Don Pedro always locks his doors...

She rushed over towards one of the dressers, and pulled out a keychain with what seemed like a million keys. She picked out one that was silver, with an intricate design, walked up to the door, and locked it. She also locked the deadbolt.

“Phew,” Manuela panted, wiping her forehead with her forearm. “We should be safe for the time being. Now I just need to open this latch.”

She led Serafin to the other side of the enormous room, near the master bathroom. She lifted the purple velvet carpet and there was the latch. Manuela kneeled down, and smirked at Serafin. Grasping the latch, she tried to open it. It didn’t open. She gripped it harder, and started to pull on it. She had a confused look on her face, furrowing her eyebrows.

“Maybe it’s just stuck.” Manuela stated, determined. She kept tugging on the latch. After about 10 seconds, she stopped.

“Oh no, this can’t be locked! It wasn’t when I first opened it.”

“Here, let me try.” Serafin kneeled down right next to her, and grasped the latch. He tugged with all his might; the door moved a little bit, but it was stubborn. It was definitely locked, and he didn’t want to break it down. It would make a loud noise and reveal their hiding spot. Plus, the carpet would cave in if there was no door anymore.

Serafin looked at Manuela and shrugged. “Well, guess I can’t go in there.” Manuela sighed, frustrated, pacing back and forth.

“Ugh, there’s got to be somewhere…”

“HEY, MACOCO, REVEAL YOURSELF! YOU SCOUNDREL, YOU FOOL! YOU WILL NOT GET AWAY FROM US! SURRENDER, NOW!”

Manuela gasped, hearing Don Pedro’s voice from downstairs. Manuela and Serafin looked at each other. They could also hear a crowd of militia conversing, but they couldn’t make out anything.

“Darling, I’m just going to have to surrender. Don’t worry, I can escape. I will escape. We should make up some sort of plan. I can do it. I posed as Macoco for crying out loud, and you believed it,” Serafin smirked at Manuela. “Besides, what will they do to me?”

“Serafin, they will KILL you! You can’t just surrender!” Manuela grabbed his hands and pleaded. “You’d be surprised at what these savages can do.”

“Okay, well what else can I do?” Serafin asked.

Manuela looked around. She spotted the windows.

“Maybe you can get out the windows!” She ran over to the windows, trying to open them. But, these were locked too.

“Does this man ever keep ANYTHING unlocked?!” Manuela wailed angrily. “I’m not even going to try to look through the keys, I don’t think any of them work on the windows anyway.”

“See darling, what am I to do?”

Manuela slowly accepted the inevitable. Serafin would have to be captured, but she had this confidence in her that he would indeed escape.

With a decided sigh, Manuela replied, “Alright, I guess there’s nothing else we can do. What am I to do though, here with you? They’ll know I’m helping you.”

“There’s nowhere to hide. I don’t know what you’re going to do. You’re just going to have to lie and say I brought you up here with me or something.”

Manuela thought for a second. She looked around. Her mind clicked. She turned to Serafin.

“I have an idea.”

“Where could they be? We’ve been searching forever!” the Viceroy complained angrily. “Are you sure they’re here?”

“Yes, I’m sure of it!” Don Pedro replied, confidently. “We must search everywhere on this floor. We must check the downstair’s cellars and rooms as well. This dirty runt Macoco is unpredictable! He can probably hide in microscopic places!”

Manuela came out of the master closet with a piece of rope. She walked over to Serafin and placed the rope in his hand. Serafin stared down at the rope, confused, and gave her a questioning glance.

“What’s this for?”

“Let me explain,” Manuela gestured towards the bed.

“Now, you will tie me to the bedpost so I can’t move. I won’t be able to struggle either; I’ll be helpless. It will look like you have kidnapped me and are going to torture me. I can’t escape.” Manuela plopped down on the floor, raised her wrists to the top of the bedpost, and leaned her body back against the bed. “Then, you will grab your whip and pretend like you’re going to whip me. This whole concept in a nutshell will completely convince them that I’m not helping you.” Manuela paused for a second. “If they come in, you can whip me, if you want, to make it look real. You know, there’s no messing around with the fearless, brave, ever so dominating Macoco. I’ll be okay.”

Serafin stared at her in bewilderment. “Are you sure? I don’t even think Macoco would do such a thing to a beautiful woman like you,” he teased.

“Oh no, Serafin, do you know Macoco?! Have you read about his voyages, all the anecdotes?! Why, he would do ANYTHING to get his way!”

Serafin swore he saw a twinkle in her eye. He walked over to her, set the rope on the bed, bent down, and met her at eye level.

“Oh, now would he?” Serafin whispered with a hint of seduction.

That same feeling came back from earlier, but stronger. Manuela’s breathing automatically became unsteady. Her heartbeat increased its rhythm. She shifted in her spot, her cheeks turning ruby red like her lips.

“Yes.” Manuela replied unsteadily.

“Okay.” Serafin slowly stood up, and grabbed the whip from across the room. “Should I turn off the lights and close the drapes as well? It’s kind of bright in here… do you think that’s too suspicious?” Serafin asked sincerely.

“No, as a matter of fact, the servants usually close them at this time of day. Don Pedro won’t think anything of it.”

Manuela was lying. She had no idea if this was true or not. But, the curtains were usually closed, it was an awfully dark house besides the downstairs area. Plus, she wanted to hide how flustered she was becoming. The darkness would disguise that.

Serafin turned off the lights and closed almost all the drapes, only a few beams of sunlight shining through, barely illuminating the room. Manuela eyed him carefully as he did. She felt an overwhelming allure to him; she couldn’t help but notice his sleek, sturdy, muscular figure as he walked around. She meant what she teased him about beforehand; that sinister brow, the hawk-like glance in his eyes, his savage shoulders, the ferocious nape of his neck… But now, all those features seemed even more attractive.

After Serafin finished, he ran the whip through his hands, pacing back and forth in front of Manuela. Abruptly he turned to face Manuela, walking extremely slowly towards her, being completely silent. He stopped dead before her, and let the whip droop in front of her. Manuela swallowed.

“I do have to tie you up first, I forgot.” Serafin chuckled slightly, trying to relieve the obvious tension he knew he was creating. He grabbed the rope off the bed. He kneeled down and grasped Manuela’s wrists, roughly but in a caring manner; he wasn’t trying to hurt her. He knew this was turning her on. He raised both her wrists in unison, and pushed them against the bedpost. Taking the rope, he tied them to the bedpost, not extremely tight but tight enough so she couldn’t move them.

“Try to escape.” Serafin challenged her. He could hear her breathing. She tried moving her wrists out of the rope, but it was tight enough.

“Yeah, I, uh, think that will work.” Manuela puffed out nervously. She met Serafin’s golden brown eyes, her lips parted, breathing out her mouth. “Uh, what are you going to do now?”

Serafin looked her up and down. They could hear the noise from downstairs, but the tension they were creating was slowly draining it out. It was almost pitch black on their side of the room, but they were still able to see each other. He stretched out his arm, his hand touching the side of the bed, forearm almost touching her face. He could feel her breath against him, and he spied her eyes glancing towards his arm nervously.

“Well, we do have some time, I feel. We must bide our time together, until they finally take me.” Serafin whispered slowly, enticingly. Manuela was reeling inside. My God, what is happening to me? She knew this was arousal now. This whole time, she felt this way towards Macoco, but now this was Serafin, a man with a similar masculine-like quality, but someone who loved and cared for her, who wanted the best for her. That magnetic tingle was returning to her lips. Memories of Serafin’s delicious lips on hers only an hour before flooded back to her mind. Her eyes diverted to his lips. She involuntarily bit her bottom lip, her passionate femininity rising to the surface. Breathing deeply now, she looked Serafin deep in the eyes. She wanted him to take her, dominate her… these thoughts and fantasies flooded her mind while Serafin kneeled there still, looking at her with his arm still so close to her face.

Serafin gazed into her chocolate brown eyes. He could see the desire in them now, no doubt about it. He knew she was fantasizing; he didn’t have to question that. Seeing her hypnotized with the revolving mirror told him enough about what filled her mind. Plus, this was his business. He wanted to release these sensuous fantasies, buried down deep inside of her, now bubbling towards the surface. He took his other hand, and tousled her hair, taking her hairdo apart. He heard Manuela swallow loudly. Handling the jewelry that was in her hair, he delicately placed it on the floor, along with her necklace and earrings. He reached below him, and uncrossed her legs; they now extended out on the floor against his kneeling legs. He reached back and took off her shoes as well. Through all this, Manuela just went along with it and sat still.

Manuela could hardly hold it together. Serafin grazed his hands up her legs, starting at her feet. Then up her sides, and back up to her neck. He started to massage her where her shoulders connected to her neck. She didn’t know how to react; this had never happened to her before. She had never been intimate with a man, or touched by one in this way; the only thing she had done was kiss a man, most recently Don Pedro. She was never allowed to go out anywhere, she was sheltered in her village by Aunt Inez. But now she found the love of her life, and she was grateful. Only her dreams allowed her to escape previously, but now this was reality.

Manuela thought it was strange how just the touch of Serafin’s fingertips on her body had such an impact on her compared to a kiss by her fiancé. Serafin practically set her on fire when he only kissed her hand, hours before, and she swooned. A kiss from Don Pedro did nothing to her. Even just watching Serafin dance in the street sent her senses reeling. And, even though she tried to forget it at the time, him brushing her cheeks, reeling her in like a fish, then him bringing her out of her hypnotic trance, brushing her breast, tongue against hers… it was too delicious to even fathom, but it happened. And now, a similar thing was happening again.

Serafin could feel Manuela slowly relaxing under his touch. He didn’t know how far he should go; the militia could come barging in at any minute. All he knew was that she wanted this badly, and so did he. He wanted her to unleash all her passion. He could see Manuela’s eyes begging him. Slowly, he brought his one hand up behind her head, cradling her neck, running his hand through her hair, and releasing all the silky, auburn strands. He shot her a questioning glance as he started to tilt his head and lean in. He stopped dead right before her beautifully shaped, parted lips; her eyes were closed, eyelashes resting against her eyelids, and her breathing heavy against his lips. He sensed her anticipation. He loved making her feel this way. However, Manuela was getting impatient. She was aching for his lips to relieve the aching, the tingle, the magnetic pull.

“Please,” Manuela gasped. “Kiss me.”

Serafin groaned and exhaled against her face. He brought his free hand down to her breast and lightly brushed over it as his lips met hers; just like he did when she was hypnotized. He immediately slipped his tongue inside, caressing hers.

Manuela moaned at contact. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, to pull him in deeper, but she couldn’t because of the rope; but, it made it hotter. She allowed him to dominate her. She kissed him back with the same amount of passion, caressing her tongue with his in a sexually charged kiss. She could feel his hands wrapping around her waist, at first pushing her against the bedpost for support, but then pulling her into him. His thighs were up against her stomach, and his knees pushing right up against her core, since the bottom of her dress was pushed up to her upper thighs now. She moaned again louder, muffled by his mouth. It felt so good. She wanted more. She spread her legs slightly and bent them. For some reason, this felt natural to her. It was like she was releasing this built up desire inside her, and it would be too painful to stop.

Serafin leaned into her more, twisting and turning his head, moving his hands everywhere, taking control of her mouth like no one had ever done to her before. He once again was melting at her passion; he felt her spread her legs moments earlier, he felt her tongue against his, and what surprised him the most was the sexy sounds she was making in response to his actions. It made him even hungrier for her, and he had barely done anything.

Suddenly, he felt her trying to grind against his knee. He groaned in response. Manuela was aching more and more as time passed, and she was growing impatient. Serafin pulled away from her mouth and looked at her. She was giving him a seductive, mischievous, and naughty glance, with a smirk. This was not the Manuela that was present a few minutes ago; he had never seen her like this before. The sensuous tension radiating from her reminded him of when he hypnotized her. Now, it was 10 times more intense. She looked possessed.

“What’s gotten into you, Manuela?”

She wrapped her legs around his thighs, trapping him.

“I don’t know darling, but if we continue maybe we’ll find out…”

Her voice sounded so purely innocent but so seductive. He swore she’d never been intimate before. But from the way she was acting, she seemed to know what she was doing.

Manuela brought Serafin closer against her with her legs. She did feel possessed, but with desire. She could feel her nipples poking through her dress. All of this felt so natural to her and she loved it; she bathed in all the attention Serafin was giving to her. Regardless of whatever was happening outside, downstairs, or even in the next room… she was fulfilling her long-awaited hunger and craving for this kind of moment, and she wasn’t about to stop.

“Touch me.”

Serafin groaned. He ran his hands down to her breasts, circling the shape of them, caressing them through her dress. Pulling away from her mouth, he lowered his mouth towards her neck and teasingly bit it. Beginning to plant wet kisses and sucks on it, he finally started circling her peaks.

Manuela moaned again, louder. This was another new sensation for her. Sparks of pleasure began shooting down to her core. She felt herself getting wet.

“More, Serafin,” Manuela pleaded, arching her back, pushing her lower half into his thighs and forcing her breasts up into his face.

Serafin bent down and placed his tongue and teeth on her right nipple, nibbling it through her dress, while still circling the left peak. Manuela shrieked with pleasure. She couldn’t contain her endless sighs; not caring who would hear, she increased her volume.

A tent began to form in Serafin’s pants. He’d been dreaming of this moment since the day he laid eyes on her. After giving some attention to her other nipple, he ran his hands roughly up and down her sides, and sprang back to her mouth again, devouring her. His hand slowly started moving south. Running his hand down her leg, he met the silky, soft, creamy skin on her thigh.

Another wave of arousal hit Manuela. Serafin started to massage the inside of her thigh, going up higher and higher, almost to her center. But, then he stopped, and took his other hand and did the same thing to her other thigh.

“Serafin,” Manuela moaned out.

Serafin eyed her sultrily, his hand hovering her mound and core. He could feel the heat radiating through her underwear, and she could feel the heat of his hand hovering her. A bit shy, she tried closing her legs, overwhelmed, but Serafin bent his arms, his elbows keeping her open.

“Calm down Manuela, I want you to just feel… Have you ever been touched here before, by any man?” Serafin returned back to her thighs and was running his hands up and down them only inches away from her most aching area.

Manuela shook her head no.

“Well then,” Serafin smirked mischievously at her. She turned him on so much, her sexy innocence combined with her erotic fantasies.

He just stared at her. He brought his one hand back to her core, just barely hovering it. Suddenly, he pushed his hand into her, cupping her. Manuela’s eyes rolled back and shut, just like they did when she looked into his revolving mirror. She let out a loud moan.

“Feel good?” Serafin teased.

He held his hand there for a moment, until suddenly he felt Manuela lean back against the bedpost and start grinding against his hand.

“Baby,” Serafin sighed. He was so hard. Manuela’s continuous sighs weren’t helping his predicament. Just the sounds she was making were enough to make him explode. He could feel what his actions had done to her; she was soaked through the cotton fabric.

“That’s it,” Serafin encouraged her, and he matched his hand movements with her movements. Manuela’s body was taking over; she had no thoughts anymore. All she felt were the pleasurable sensations radiating through her from her core. Feeling Serafin’s hand against her felt so right, he was making her feel ecstatic.

She continued to grind against his hand with fervor, each second feeling more and more sexy and pleasant, until suddenly they both heard someone tugging on the doorknob of the bedroom.

“Why is this locked from the inside?? I haven’t been in my bedroom in hours!! They MUST be in here!” Don Pedro wailed. “Go find my keys Capucho!”

Manuela and Serafin froze, both looking each other in the eyes. Serafin immediately pulled away from her, fixing her dress, slipping her shoes back onto her feet, and fixing her hair a bit. He stood up, fixing his outfit a bit, and grasped the whip, winding it up like a toy.

“Shhhh,” Serafin brought his finger up to his lips. Manuela nodded.

She was fuming; the on-the-edge pain was unbearable. She needed more, but Don Pedro had to ruin everything! Ugh, an old, fat, mamby pamby who is always ruining everything… can’t he just leave Serafin and I alone?

Running to the corner, Serafin tried to prepare for what would happen next. Manuela, still leaning against the bedpost, hands tied to them, met his eyes. She was trying to think of what she would do; she worried about her appearance. Hot and bothered, flushed as she was, she took a few breaths to calm down. Serafin watched her curiously, the red in her cheeks slowly fading and the gleam of desire in her eyes disappearing. She still looked so sexy laying there, and so enticing.

Manuela knew what to do; she would pretend to be sleeping, or in a daze. This way, she wouldn’t slip anything out; nothing would be revealed.

The lock on the double doors clicked, and the doors flung open. Manuela immediately shut her eyes, leaning her head against the bedpost. Serafin cracked his whip, making Don Pedro jump. About two dozen militia men followed him into the room.

Don Pedro gasped in horror. “Manuela!! What have you done to my beautiful fiancé, my soon to be wife?! Have you gone mad??” He quickly ran over to her.

A few militia men pulled out their swords, surrounding Serafin. Then came the Viceroy, eyeing Serafin amusingly.

Don Pedro shook Manuela. “Oh, my darling, what is wrong with you?? Wake up!” He noticed her hair was undone, her jewelry on the floor, her hands tied to the bedpost... “Macoco, what have you done? Did you make LOVE to my WIFE?” Don Pedro asked furiously. “First threatening my people, second stealing jewels from the city treasurer, and then raping my wife?! Why, you’re really going to get it Macoco, I have no mercy on you! You horrid vagabond you… You might’ve gotten away with these kinds of things previously, but now you’re in my town, and I’m the mayor, and-”

“Alright, I think you’ve made your point Don Pedro. Hello Macoco, I’m the Viceroy. I must say, I am very impressed with you, and you do fill the eye.”

“Why thank you kind sir.” Serafin responded with a smile. “However, I don’t understand these false allegations coming out of Don Pedro’s mouth. I do admit that I threatened the town, but besides that, I did not steal any jewels, or rape Manuela. I only tied her to the bedpost so that she wouldn’t get hurt, try to get involved in my affairs, or help you all out.”

Serafin decided he wanted to continue with the act he was putting on. It was too much fun; acting was another one of his specialties.

“I might not have evidence for some of the things I just accused you of right now, but I do have evidence about the jewels. Capucho, bring his treasure chest in,” Don Pedro ordered.

Capucho and two other servants carefully carried Serafin’s chest in. Don Pedro walked over to open it. It was full of jewels, diamonds, gold, and silver.

Serafin was shocked. He did not do this.

“Don Pedro, aren’t you going a bit too far with this?” Serafin asked him. He turned to face the militia. “I did not do this.”

“Okay, well if you didn’t do this, why are all the riches in YOUR treasure chest?” the Viceroy stated.

Serafin knew there was no use arguing. He knew no matter what, no one would believe him.

Don Pedro returned his attention back to Manuela. “My wife is motionless! You must've poisoned her or something!” Don Pedro insisted. “Darling, please wake up, it’s me.”

Manuela had to contain her laugh. She was having fun with this too.

Don Pedro kept shaking her, squeezing her cheeks in his hands, trying to untie the rope, but not succeeding. A bad taste began to form in Serafin’s mouth; moments before he was running his hands all over her beautifully crafted body, and now Don Pedro was. Don Pedro would never be fit for her; even if he was the real Macoco, he didn’t act like it, or look like it for that matter. He knew Manuela would never like a man like Don Pedro as he was now.

Manuela stirred, fluttering her eyes, pretending to come out of a trance or deep sleep. “It seems like she’s waking up!” Don Pedro said with a hint of relief but still nervous. The militia and everyone turned around to watch her. Serafin seized the opportunity.

Manuela finally opened her eyes, taking in a slow breath, looking confused. “Where am I?” she asked softly.

“You’re in our bedroom dear, do you feel alright?” Don Pedro ran his hand through her hair, over and behind her ear.

“Yes.” Manuela responded. “How did I… get here?”

“I don’t know darling, that Macoco brought you here. Did he do anything to you? Did he hurt you?”

“No, not at all. He just wanted to talk to me. I told him I’d turn him in to the militia, so he tied me up.” Manuela admitted. She looked around, eyeing everyone. Then she saw her jewelry laying on the floor. The memory of Serafin against her came flooding back again. She almost couldn’t contain her anger at Don Pedro, but nonetheless acted like everything was fine.

“I don’t believe you. That Macoco must’ve done something, why were you asleep?!” Don Pedro responded angrily and turned around to yell at Serafin. He was gone.

Serafin was sprinting down the hallway, turning corners. He tried to find a window to jump out of to escape the militia and the crowd he assumed was outside. Finally finding one that wasn’t too dangerous to jump out of, he tugged on it and it opened. He immediately flung himself out the window onto the balcony and looked for a place to go. With the whip in his hand, he crawled on all fours so he wouldn’t be seen.

“Ahh, you imbeciles, go find him!” Don Pedro ordered.

“Follow me,” the Viceroy shouted. Don Pedro turned back to Manuela.

“Honey, you wouldn’t believe what this man did. He stole all of the jewels from the city treasurer! Capucho, bring his treasure chest over here and show Manuela.”

“Yes I know, I was able to hear you yelling about it.”

Capucho, with the help of the same two other servants, carried the treasure chest and set it down next to them. Don Pedro opened it.

“Darling, look! This man is a killer and a thief.”

Manuela eyed the riches in the treasure chest. As she did, Don Pedro stood up to find a knife to cut the rope from her wrists.

Most of it was gold and silver, with diamonds, rubies, pearls… But something caught her eye. Under all the jewelry, she saw a silver piece with aqua blue and red, just like her wedding ring. She squinted in case her eyes were playing tricks on her. She didn’t know for sure if it was the jewelry from her ring but she was pretty positive. She went to grab it but she realized her hands were still tied together. A lightbulb lit up in her head. Don Pedro was setting this all up; these weren’t riches from the city treasurer. These were Don Pedro’s. This is why he “hated” Serafin so much, he must be Macoco…

“Ah, here it is.” Don Pedro pulled a knife out of his dresser drawer and walked back over to Manuela. “Okay, hold still.” Don Pedro started cutting at the rope. “I have to admit, this Macoco is pretty smart… being able to steal those riches like that. And based on all the anecdotes and legends, he impresses me. No other man could do that.”

Manuela knew for sure Don Pedro was putting on a show, after speaking so highly of Serafin/Macoco like that. She contained her anger and raised her brow, eyes staring wide at him.

“This whole time you’ve seemed to hate the man, what makes you so impressed by him now? Does the hate not overpower your anger?” Manuela gave him a challenging look.

“Well, uh, yes, I do hate the man. Nevermind what I said, I’m just overwhelmed by this whole situation. A crook, tying up my wife like this…” Don Pedro mumbled to himself. Manuela looked down and pursed her lips, amused by his reaction.

Her hands were now free and she brought them down to her lap, running her fingers over her wrists which were scratched up a bit from the rope.

“I see you must’ve struggled to get out of that. I’m glad I found that knife, I’m not sure I could’ve gotten you out of that jumble.”

“Hmm, yes, I did try. But I eventually quit, I didn’t want to hurt myself.”

Thoughts of her practically hanging from her wrists while Serafin pleasured her flew back to her mind. It started to arouse her again.

“Okay, well I suggest you go down to the living room and rest on the sofa. I’ll have my cook make something for you, and I’ll be sure to have him bring you a glass of wine. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through in the past few hours.” Don Pedro bent down and pecked her on the cheek. “I will see you soon, my darling.”

Manuela stood up slowly, a little sore from sitting on the floor, and her wrists were sore from the rope. She was also sore someplace else. Exiting the room, she overheard Don Pedro.

“Capucho, can you put this chest of Macoco’s in my cellar full of riches? The servants can help you. I’m going to grab the key.”

Manuela stopped dead and turned around back to the door, peeking around it to watch them.

She saw Don Pedro walk over to one of the tables in the corner of the room. He lifted the leg of it and picked up a small key from under it. He walked back over to the side of the carpet she knew the cellar was under. Lifting up the velvet carpet, he inserted the key into the lock and it clicked. He motioned to Capucho and the two servants, who were carrying the chest. Slowly, the three went down the stairs, followed by Don Pedro. They were down there for about a minute, and they all came back up.

Don Pedro shut the cellar door and locked it. He got up and placed the key back under the leg of the table.

“Our work here is done gentleman, I will see you soon. You three need to go and help the militia and Viceroy.”

“Yes, Don Pedro.” The three men started walking towards the door. Manuela quickly turned around and stood between one of the open doors and the wall, hiding.

The three men passed by without noticing her. She sighed in relief. She looked in both directions to see if anyone was around. No one was. She walked out from behind the door and began towards the staircase.

“Manuela, what are you doing? Why aren’t you downstairs?”

Manuela jumped and clutched her chest. She turned around.

“Don Pedro, you scared me. Can’t a woman get a moment to herself? I was just walking around the hall for a few minutes, reflecting over what just happened. I’m heading down now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. And you definitely have the right to have a moment to yourself. But please, go down and rest, you need it.”

Manuela forced a smile onto her lips and headed downstairs.

Serafin peaked around the corner of the marketplace. He had made it far already. But, he had to avoid the crowd. Standing there, he contemplated on which way to go. Straight ahead was an alley, empty, but he would have to go straight through the crowd. They would see him. He could walk into the marketplace and pretend to shop. No Serafin, that’s foolish, think! He could walk nonchalantly through the crowd, and head back to his troupe. Where even were they? They have to be around here somewhere. He peaked around the corner again, scanning the area. He spotted them. Thank Heavens. He was about to start walking until he saw someone coming right at him. It was a militia man. Turning around, he started to run. But, it was too late; someone tackled him.

Struggling under the weight of whoever was on top of him, he quit fighting back. There was no use.

“Quitting so soon, Macoco?” quipped the man. A ton of other militiamen surrounded him. The man grabbed a pair of handcuffs and cuffed Serafin’s hands behind his back.

“Congrats, you got me,” Serafin chuckled. “But you must all know, I am not Macoco. I’m a strolling player, I’m an actor.”

“You think we’d believe that? That’s a pretty cheap comment,” replied one of the militiamen. “You ought to be hanged.”

“Yes, you know what that would do for me? Another political achievement.” chimed the Viceroy.

“Here, you come along now. We have a nice, comfortable spot for you for the time being. Maybe it’ll help you think over your actions,” the militiaman stated.

Two men took hold of his arms, and led him across the street, into the alley.

Manuela quietly sipped on her wine, lying on the sofa. She couldn’t get her mind off of Serafin. She hoped he was safe and okay. Most of all, she couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened between them. He unleashed something in her no one else ever had; she didn’t even know she had that sort of passion inside of her. She had no control of her actions; her body took over, and she was possessed. His hands tying her to the bed, she couldn’t escape… It being almost pitch black, except for the streaks of sunlight lighting up his brown eyes… His muscular, delicious body so close to hers… His mouth inches from hers but refusing to kiss her… Him running his fingertips through her hair, over her neck, to her breasts, down to her thighs… his hand rubbing her most intimate area… Suddenly, Don Pedro swung the doors open.

“They’ve got him! He’s locked up in the city jail.”

Manuela sat up immediately, in denial. “What?!” She exclaimed. “There’s no way! He can escape anything!” She shook her head disappointedly.

“It doesn’t matter now, my dear, we’ve got him. Are you upset that we captured him, or something?” Don Pedro teased her, chuckling.

Manuela bit the side of her cheek. “No, I just figured he would have escaped. I mean, it took you guys an eternity to finally find us, locked in the bedroom.”

“I’m sorry Manuela, but we did find you, right? And you said he didn’t hurt you or anything, so it is all okay.”

No, but he did something else… Manuela thought.

“Is he going to be in jail tonight?”

“Yes,” Don Pedro said. “We will figure out what to do with him tomorrow. I think we’re planning on hanging him.”

“WHAT?!”

“Yes, I think that’s a fitting crime for a scoundrel like him. Why are you so surprised?”

Manuela shifted in her spot. “Well, I guess it’s because… well, there hasn’t been a hanging in many months… I guess it’s just strange, that’s all. Hearing about a hanging. Tell me all the details tomorrow. I think I’m going to retire. Would you take me back to my house?”

“Yes, of course dear.” Don Pedro held out his hand and Manuela grasped it. He took her on a carriage ride back to her house.

The cell door slammed shut with a loud bang and the guards twisted the key in the lock.

“Don’t you get any bright ideas Macoco, we’re watching you. There’s going to be guards here and down the hall.” The leader handled Serafin’s whip, and lashed the prison cell bars. The echo of the whip was deafening. “We will wake you in the morning.” The leader turned around and walked away with a few of his men. Three guards sat next to his cell, one holding a set of keys that held the key to Serafin’s cell.

“What time of day is it?” Serafin asked the guard.

“It’s getting darker now, a little after sunset. Why?” The guard snarled at him.

Serafin held out his hands in defense. “Sorry, I was just curious.” He walked over to the corner of the cell and sat on the stone bed. He started to think about Manuela. I hope she’s alright, he thought to himself. After sitting there for a while, he too began to daydream about their moments of intimacy. Her hair, her waist, her chocolate brown, devious eyes… Those cherry red lips with a small indent in the middle, matching her rosy cheeks… Her round breasts, the silky feel of her thighs… and how wet she was. The alluring sounds she made. He started to get hard again.

Aunt Inez was nowhere to be found, until Manuela spotted her sleeping in her bed. Manuela practically jumped for joy. She ran into her bedroom, grabbed a piece of paper, and started writing with her quill and ink.

My darling Serafin,

...

She licked the envelope with the letter sealed in it and ran out the door. After a few turns, she arrived at the jail and knocked on the door. A man opened the rectangular slot on the door to peek at her. After a second, he shut it and opened the door.

“What can I do for you, Miss Manuela?”

“Hello, Mr.?”

“Valore is the name.”

“Hello Mr. Valore, would you do me a favor?”

“Why yes, of course, anything for you my dear. You nearly committed suicide earlier by meeting with Macoco. Now there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

Manuela smiled. “Would you take this letter to Macoco? I was asked to deliver it to him.”

“Of course!” Mr. Valore replied. “I can’t imagine him receiving a letter at this hour though… do you know anything about it?”

Manuela chuckled, nervously. “No, sadly I don’t. I bet it's some sort of death threat. Wouldn’t that be funny?” she laughed, and he laughed along with her.

“That wouldn’t be too far-fetched!”

They both stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“Okay, well you better go on home now. It’s very late, it’s almost completely dark out, and a girl like you needs her beauty rest. Well, actually, you don’t need any beauty rest.” Mr. Valore winked at her. “But sleep is good for your health, especially after what you’ve been through.”

Manuela blushed. “Thank you Mr. Valore.” She exited and shut the door, leaned against it, and let out a huge sigh. Phew. What am I getting myself into?

“A letter for you sir.” Mr. Valore slid the envelope under Serafin’s cell.

“Thank you.”

He eyed the writing on the envelope.

To, Macoco

The guards were eyeing him as he started to open the letter. He decided to go back over to his bed and sit down. He unfolded the letter and it read:

My darling Serafin,

I hope everything is well. I hope they didn’t beat you, hurt you, bruise you… Don Pedro told me they caught you and took you to the city jail, and I took the opportunity to write to you. They’re planning on hanging you! However, I know you’ll think of some way to get out of it. I must say, you do have the tendencies of Macoco. At any rate, I wanted to tell you that I know Don Pedro is Macoco… you know how he took your chest? And all those jewels and riches were in it, saying that you stole them… Those weren’t the city treasurer’s, Serafin, but his own. I know it because there was a piece of jewelry lying there that had the exact same pattern as my wedding ring. He really is a fool, isn’t he?

I watched them put your chest in that cellar room we tried to open in the master bedroom… and I also know where Don Pedro hid the key. Watch for me, I will come by in a bit to help you escape, and we can go in there and continue where we left off… meaning saving you and whatnot. You can get your chest too.

I can’t stop thinking about you darling. I love you dearly. We will get through this. I have some ideas.

With love,

Manuela

He smiled at the letter, and blood started to rush to his groin. Continue where we left off, he smirked. She was so playful. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her again. Nevertheless, grateful as he was, he was anxious over how Manuela would try to set him free. How would she unlock the cell, and get him past the guards? Oh, that witch… he thought. I’m sure she’ll think of something. He shoved the letter into his pants, not wanting anyone to take it from him.

Manuela arrived at the jail wearing a tight, black nightgown, her hair let out natural; she was almost unrecognizable. It camouflaged her in the moonlight. Approaching the door, she tried opening the door; it was unlocked, strangely. She slowly turned the knob, the door creaking as it opened. She grit her teeth in the suspense. Peeking around the door, she kept an eye out for anyone and everyone; no one was there. She walked through the entrance and left the door open a crack, not quite shutting it but not leaving it wide open, in order to prevent suspicion and sounds. She tiptoed down the hallway, peeking around corners; so far it was clear. She crept through what seemed like a never-ending corridor. It gave off an eerie vibe, but for some reason she felt the coast was clear. Suddenly, the wood beneath her creaked from her footsteps.

“Good Heavens,” she whispered, startled. She paused for a few seconds, then continued her way past all the rooms in the corridor. Then, another door stood at the very end. Grasping the handle, she opened it very slowly. This time, the door didn’t creak. She peered around the corner at the many jail cells lining the hallway. There was only one guard attending one certain jail cell. But, he was asleep in a chair.

That must be the one, she figured.

Heading around the corner, she took a deep, quiet breath and started to walk towards the cell. The floor made another creaking noise.

Serafin heard the creaking and got up from his bed, looking to see what it was. He watched nervously as the guard stirred in his sleep, shifting in his chair; then he saw Manuela down the hall.

Manuela paused in her path. She made eye contact with Serafin. Serafin held his index finger up to his lips, indicating for her to be very quiet. She continued to creep down the hall.

At last, she finally arrived at his cell. “The keys,” Serafin mouthed to her, pointing at the guard's hand. The guard was holding a ring of keys in his hand, with his arms crossed, practically snoring the walls down. “It’s okay,” he mouthed again.

Manuela took another deep breath, holding it in from the suspension. Her hand inched towards the guard’s. Very carefully and cautiously, she gripped the ring and started to tug on it gently. It gradually slipped through the guard’s fingers. Manuela shot Serafin a look of triumph, and slipped the ring completely out of the guard’s hands. But, the force caused all the keys to jingle, creating an echoey noise throughout the hall.

The prison guard stirred again. Manuela and Serafin held their breath, standing completely still. The guard yawned, and talked in his sleep.

“Yes… uh, Macoco… yeah… yeah… oh, be quiet… yes… got him… he’s err, locked… yes… mmm no…”

And the guard drifted back to sleep. Manuela silently exhaled with relief. She handed Serafin the key ring through the space in the cell bars and he indicated what key would open his cell. Taking that key, Manuela, bit by bit, slid the key into the slot. Turning it to the right, it clicked. Serafin almost jumped for joy. He slid the gate open quietly and picked up Manuela, giving her a huge hug, kissing her shoulder. They both gave each other an understanding glance; they could celebrate later, they had to get out of there. Clutching Serafin’s hand, Manuela hurried down the hallway with him, barely making a sound. She opened the door, he quietly shut it, and then they ran through the first hallway. Reaching the end of it, Manuela peeked around the corner. A sleeping Mr. Valore was sitting in a chair behind a table, near the door, legs propped up and crossed on the table. The main entrance door was completely shut.

“Look,” Manuela mouthed to Serafin. He turned to look around the corner. He didn’t know what to do.

They knew they just had to wing it and see what would happen. Manuela let go of Serafin’s hand and started tip-toeing around the corner to the door. She gently turned the doorknob, handling it like a sleeping baby that would cry out any minute. It opened, however she did not open it all the way because she was afraid it would creak. She motioned to Serafin. She walked out the door and he did too, him shutting it very gently behind them. They both finally took a deep breath and exhaled, releasing all the stressful tension they just went through. Serafin looked at Manuela. Grabbing her shoulders, he forced her into a kiss. Manuela submitted. It was a loving kiss, thanking her for what she had done. It did more than words could ever do. After a few moments, he pulled away and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her into a loving, playful hug. Manuela nuzzled her head against his neck.

“We have to go, darling,” Manuela whispered.

“I know,” Serafin whispered into her hair, running his hands through it.

They didn’t want to let go of each other, but after a few moments, they both pulled away. Serafin intertwined his fingers into hers. Manuela led the way back to Don Pedro’s, running with Serafin at the speed of light.

They were able to reach Don Pedro’s bedroom in no time. There were no guards, which was unusual.

“I wonder why no one is around,” Manuela said curiously. “Maybe they’re having a meeting or something.”

“Maybe they’re out drinking and celebrating since they finally captured Macoco. Makes more sense to me.”

Manuela was almost hysterical, trying to keep quiet. She slapped her hand onto his chest.

“You’re too funny.”

“I know,” Serafin winked at her.

Manuela leaned her ear against the master bedroom door, listening for any sounds.

“You know, I heard Don Pedro snores louder than the rooster crows.”

“I believe it,” Serafin replied. “Although you’d think he’d know how to be quiet by now since he voyaged through many territories and probably camped on them. Otherwise his prey would hear him.”

“Macoco never actually slept… he was too busy handling all the girls who ran after him. I can’t believe he’s actually Macoco… he definitely does not look like it.”

Serafin, amused, nodded in agreement. “You hear anything?”

Manuela motioned for him to be silent. Hearing nothing, she shook her head.

“Must be down at the saloon.”

She tugged on the door handle, and the door opened.

“What a fool. Leaving his bedroom door unlocked AGAIN.” Manuela chuckled. “I can’t believe I almost married that buffoon.”

“You mean that pumpkin.” Serafin quipped.

Manuela laughed at his comment, walking towards the table that hid the key to the cellar. She pointed at the leg of the table and lifted it, snatching the key. She smirked at Serafin.

“This pumpkin did have a pretty good hiding spot… You weren’t able to find the key earlier.”

“I think you’re forgetting that you couldn’t find it either. We didn’t even attempt to search for it.”

Manuela strutted towards him in a flirty manner.

“Well, look at who FOUND it.” Manuela held the key in his face.

“Hmm.” Serafin eyed her, delighting in her charm.

“A drab actor like you probably couldn’t have found it,” Manuela teased. She walked over to the cellar and began to lift the carpet. Serafin quickly walked behind her and leaned against her, his lips close to her ear. Manuela shuttered.

“What makes you so sure of that?”

Manuela looked at him through the corner of her eye, smirking. She slid the key into the lock and opened the cellar door. She was about to climb down until Serafin wrapped his arms around her body, not letting her move. Manuela squirmed in his arms, pretending to be annoyed but actually loving the feeling. A wave of arousal coursed through her body. Serafin ran his hand up to her throat, cupping it gently.

“Well?”

Manuela didn’t move, staying silent.

“Is there anything else you think I can’t do?”

Silence.

“I can do anything I want. In fact…” He ran his hand from her throat down to the inside of her thigh. “I can do you.”

Manuela leaned her head against his shoulder, her eyes closed. “Change your mind?” Serafin quipped, mouth hovering over the side of her neck. Manuela opened her eyes and looked at him. He saw that twinkle in her eye, that look of desire. He craved her bad; the simple yet sexy black nightgown hugging her curves turned him on, similar one to the one she wore when he hypnotized her. Not to mention that crazy, sensuous looking hair of hers, the long, auburn locks. Those lips, and the arising ruby red in her cheeks.

“I didn’t… mean it.” Manuela breathed out.

Serafin continued to run his hand all the way up to where her thigh met her sex. “Alright, I forgive you.”

In a heartbeat, he turned Manuela around, pulled her against him, and lifted her thigh up along his side. “Wrap your legs around me.” He boosted her up and cupped her bottom, and she obeyed what he said. He climbed down the stairs into the cellar with her surrounding him.

“What are you doing?”

“Swooping down on you like a chicken hawk and carrying you away.”

(This is where it starts to get very MA... just warning you)

Serafin quickly turned on the dim lamp, then met the wall and pushed her against it, smashing his lips with hers, and slipping his tongue into her mouth. Manuela moaned in pleasant surprise. He ran his hands along the outside of her thighs and pushed her dress up a bit, removing a barrier between his groin and her most intimate area. He ran his hands back to her bum and started kneading it.

Manuela wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in deep. She was lost in feeling; his lips against hers, his hands on her ass, his groin up against her center…pinning her to the wall. It was almost too much to bear. But she didn’t want to stop. Being with Serafin and doing all this with him was a new experience bringing plenty of new, pleasurable sensations to her. She felt like she was in one of her dreams; she longed for this. Not only was it the physical touch, but all of her other senses were reeling. The sound of his lips sucking on hers pleased her; she couldn’t help the whimpers of pleasure escaping her mouth. The taste of him and the scent of him turned her on. Quickly, she needed more. She started to grind up against his pelvis, mimicking the moves she did hours before when she was tied to the bedpost.

Serafin purred against her, but pushed her even more into the wall so she couldn’t move. He wanted to take his time with her, since she had never experienced anything like this before. She got a taste of it a few hours ago but it was nothing compared to what he was planning.

Serafin was intoxicated with Manuela. He was surprised at how skilled she seemed to be at this. She did everything with full intensity, fervor, and passion. He was melting under her, but he kept sturdy ground, trying to please her as much as he could, turning all her senses on.

Pulling away, he applied tons of kisses against her face, along her jaw, and down her neck. Manuela leaned her head back, sighing. She wove her hands into his hair, encouraging him. He then ran his tongue along her, causing her to shiver. It felt too good to be true.

“You can have all of me darling,” Manuela sighed to him.

He growled against her, turned on even more. Turning his head towards her ear, he roughly bit her earlobe, sucking on it.

“Darling, darling, darling,” Manuela couldn’t stop her continuous sighs.

He needed to touch her. Running his hands roughly against her sides, he found the hem of her dress and lifted it up. He caressed her stomach, running his hands all over it. Millions of butterflies filled Manuela’s stomach and caused her core to ache. After touching every inch, he wanted to raise her dress even more. She was a bit nervous to completely reveal herself to him… She had never been almost completely undressed in front of a man before. But, she was okay with it now. Like she said, he could have all of her.

He sent her a questioning glance, noticing her nervousness, but she nodded with consent. She lifted her arms up and he pulled the dress completely off of her. She was wearing no bra; her breasts were completely exposed to him.

She looked at him to see his reaction. He was in awe. “Honey, you’re absolutely beautiful.” Her chest was rosy pink and her mauve tips were peaked. Manuela saw the hungry look in his eye. Leaning his head towards her collarbone, he ran his lips over it, until he reached her cleavage and ran his tongue down it. He blew on the wet trial he made, making her shiver, her nipples getting even harder if that was possible.

Taking both his hands, he ran his fingertips around the shape of her breasts multiple times. Manuela was quivering. He looked up at her, awaiting her reaction while he hovered her peaks. Finally, he touched them, circling them. He watched as Manuela closed her eyes and sighed, throwing her head back against the wall.

“We’re just getting started darling,” Serafin purred seductively. He pinched her nipples between his fingers, causing Manuela to arch her back. He quickly pinned her back flat against the wall.

“I’m taking my time with you. No rushing here.” Taking his hands away, Manuela whimpered in frustration. But, he replaced one with his mouth, sucking on the one mauve tip, running his tongue in circles around it. As he did this, he caressed the other one with his hand. Manuela moaned loudly, continuously. He repeated the same thing to her other nipple. She was writhing above him; she was relishing in the pleasure. No other man could make her feel this way. She felt dominated, wanted, and sexy. She wanted him to touch her even lower.

In order to not over stimulate her, he pulled his mouth away, and moved away from the wall. He laid her down on the sofa nearby. He got on top of her, his knee resting between her legs.

“Give me a minute,” Serafin whispered, hovering her lips. He got up, and grabbed a few pillows and a blanket. Manuela eyed him curiously. She could barely process her thoughts; she was sweating, overwhelmed by the pleasure, intensity, and attention Serafin was giving her.

He kicked away all the jewels, gold, silver, and other treasures that covered the floor, and laid the blanket down. He placed a few pillows onto the blanket and also three more against the wall.

He stood up, rushed over to Manuela, and swooped her up in his arms. He laid her down onto the pillows and against the wall.

“Lay in whichever way is comfortable for you.”

Manuela shifted, her head against the pillows on the wall, trying to anticipate his next move.

“Comfortable?”

Manuela nodded yes.

He crawled up her body. He started to kiss the under sides of her breasts while he caressed her sides. Manuela ran her hands through his hair as he did. He kept moving down her body, covering every inch in kisses, licks, and little bites. He reached her navel and tongued it, circling it. More butterflies flew to her stomach and core. He began inching down slower and slower, until he reached the hem of her underwear.

“Hmm, what to do about this…”

He could sense her anticipation. Manuela fluttered from the vibration of his voice against her skin, so close to her center.

His lips trailed along her hips, then down to the insides of her thighs. He scooted away a bit, tonguing the underside of her knee up to her utmost inner thigh, all the while caressing her legs. Manuela watched him, hypnotized by his movements, and the pleasure arising in her. She was once again possessed.

His mouth hovered over her center. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her through her panties. She thought she was going to pass out from the anticipation and pleasure. She placed her forearm on her head.

“Honey, we haven’t even moved that far along. That was only the appetizer,” Serafin said, watching her already overwhelmed with these new sensations. He stuck his finger into the leg of her panties and slowly started to pull them off. Manuela lifted her bottom and her legs so he could get it off easier.

Now her center was waiting for him. He saw how wet she was already.

“Manuela, you’re so wet,” he purred over her sex.

He bent her legs a bit more and spread her open. He glanced up at her. She was staring at him, her eyes full with desire.

He inched closer and closer to her bud. “Just relax, and enjoy this. It will feel like nothing you’ve ever felt before.”

He kept eye contact with her. Finally, he placed his tongue onto her bud.

“Ahhh,” Manuela moaned in overwhelming pleasure, throwing her head back, eyes closed. Serafin smiled against her sex. He saw her grip the blanket with her fist. This was ecstasy for her; she had never experienced this kind of feeling before. She was loving it. He slowly tongued her, up and down her folds, circling her bud over and over again. He ran his tongue down to her entrance, sticking it in and out while placing his thumb over her pearl, circling it. He ran his other hand up to her breast, circling her nipple. Manuela couldn’t stop her continuous moans even if she tried. She couldn’t get over the pleasure.

“Oh, Serafin, don’t stop- Ahhh,” she moaned. He felt her begin to tense after a few moments. This would be her first climax of the night. She began to roll her hips against his mouth, but he forcefully pinned her down.

“You taste so good darling,” he purred against her. He continued with the same movements.

Manuela was writhing. She was so pent up from hours earlier, not being able to finish, all the tension buried inside of her, that she wasn’t too far from climax now. She wanted to climax badly; she was right on the edge.

Serafin slowed down his movements, carefully licking and sucking every inch of her most intimate area; he wanted to drag it out for her, not make it super quick. He was loving her reactions; he was satisfied with how good she felt. She deserved this, he knew she’d been wanting this forever. He lowered his hand to her belly, feeling how much more tense she was. She was shaking a bit. He knew it was time.

“Let it go, baby,” Serafin said against her, his tongue still edging her on. Her nose began to scrunch, her eyes rolled back, her head flew back, and she let out a loud shriek. Serafin pulled his mouth away.

“There you go.”

Manuela locked her arms under his and pulled him up on top of her, locking her lips with his. She could taste herself on him. Serafin tugged on her lips, loving her passion. She was like an untamed animal, finally being freed from a cage. He was glad he was the one to do it.

“Mmmm,” Manuela moaned, sucking on Serafin’s lips. Pulling away, she ran her lips down to the side of his neck, kissing him softly. It was so intimate, so sexy, he was really getting hard. Manuela felt him through his pants, pressing against her.

She took the opportunity and ran her hand down to his girth, cupping it, caressing it. She had never touched a man like this before, and feeling him bulging sent another wave of arousal through her. Running her hand up and down him, she continued to kiss his neck.

“Darling,” Serafin growled. He let her touch him. He wanted her to experience this.

“I think you have too many clothes on,” Manuela whispered against his neck.

“I agree.”

Manuela ran her hands to the hem of his shirt, and started to pull it off. He helped her slide it up over his head and his arms. Taking hold of her, he flipped her on top of him, letting her straddle his thighs. Boy did she look sexy; her hair resting on her porcelain skin, her curves magnified in front of his eyes. He rested his hands on her hips.

She eyed his muscular, toned stomach, and his sexy chest hair. Her hands flew to them, and she started to caress him.

Serafin adored the feel of her fingertips caressing him. She was so gentle but full of desire. She bent down to his collarbone and ran her tongue along it.

“Boy, you are naughty Manuela,” Serafin teased her. She glanced up at him seductively.

“I’d say I’m pretty innocent.” She unexpectedly ran her tongue down to his nipple and licked it.

“Oh Manuela,” Serafin sighed. The sound of her voice was so sensual, so sexy. She continued to move her mouth all over his chest, stomach, and down to his navel while caressing his sides. She reached the hem of his pants and looked up at him.

“Go ahead,” Serafin told her.

With a hint of nervousness, she clawed her fingers under the material and started to pull it off. After sliding them off his legs, he was completely unclad except for his underwear. She couldn’t help but stare at the prominent bulge in them.

She didn’t really know how to approach this. She didn’t know whether to just pull off his underwear, just run her hands on him, pull him out… She was curious, and she wanted to see him. But she wasn’t sure. While thinking about this, she was just running her hands along his thighs. Serafin noticed her contemplating what to do.

He grabbed her wrists, pulling them away from his thighs, and led them to the line of his underwear.

“Take them off,” he instructed her. His stern tone made her core start to ache again. She slowly ran her hand under and pulled down his underwear a bit. She felt his erection against her hand. She pulled him out, and started to run her hands along him.

Serafin threw his head back and moaned. Once again, the feel of her fingertips caressing him was too good. And just seeing her straddling him turned him on to no end.

Manuela experimented with many different movements. She slowly milked him up and down, ran her hands down to his balls and caressed them, she ran her thumb over his tip in circles, and eventually started to squeeze him gently. Serafin groaned; he couldn’t take it anymore. He also didn’t want to embarrass himself.

He roughly grasped her hips and flipped her over again, towering her. She was startled, but loved his roughness and dominance. He glided his hands tantalizingly down her sides and to her thighs.

“That's enough for now,” he purred against her neck. Quickly, he took his underwear completely off and returned back to Manuela. Placing soft kisses on her neck, he began to head south again with his mouth. Manuela shivered in anticipation, not knowing what he was going to do next. All she knew was that he was heading back down. He was about at her navel.

“I need to warm you up a bit more,” Serafin told her mischievously. She didn’t know what he meant.

“What do you mean?” Manuela asked.

“You’ll see.”

He approached her quivering center again. She was drenched.

“This might not feel pleasurable at first but just trust me. Let me know if it hurts.”

She felt his finger circling her entrance, then slowly sliding in. Serafin almost came right there, she was so tight around his finger.

Manuela sat there neutrally. He started to move his finger in and out, into a rhythm. She didn’t react. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel like an over-the-top pleasure.

He pushed in more and curled his finger upward. A sensation of pleasure coursed through her body. It wasn’t the same kind of pleasure like before; it was more internal. It felt just as good though, but in a different way. She let out a sigh.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” she cooed.

He started to probe at that spot for a few seconds, feeling her loosening up. He pulled his finger out, and then added a second one. He pushed them both in, and started to move in and out.

This felt a bit uncomfortable to Manuela. Once again, it didn’t hurt but it wasn’t super pleasurable. But, he pushed in further and curled both his fingers upward, hitting that spot again. The sensations she felt previously doubled. She leaned back and sighed.

“Yes,” she breathed out. Serafin wickedly smiled. He started to move in and out with his fingers, focusing his attention on that spot. He brought his mouth back to her mound and her bud, tongue circling it while he continued his finger movements. She was even wetter than before. Manuela was overloaded with pleasure as the time passed. She got even louder and couldn’t stop her moans from slipping out. She ran her hands through his hair appreciatively.

“That’s it baby, just feel,” Serafin purred against her sex.

The vibration of his voice against her almost sent her over the edge. When he felt her walls starting to tighten, he pulled his mouth away. A few seconds after that, he pulled out his fingers, leaving her on the edge. Manuela whimpered in frustration, arching her back, trying to meet some sort of touch.

“How does that feel?” Serafin teased her.

“Why did you stop?!” Manuela whined angrily, drowning in frustration.

He sensually licked both his fingers. Manuela eyed him, melting over his sensuality. He moved back on top of her and made love to her lips. Manuela wrapped her arms around his neck. She couldn’t be frustrated at him anymore, she trusted him. She started to grind against his girth, needing some sort of relief. He felt her wetness coating him. He let her.

Manuela felt so sexy. She didn’t want the pleasure to go away. She loved Serafin for what he was doing; he went through all this trouble, just for her, from the very beginning. Posing as Macoco just to win her affections. She’s glad she finally submitted to his scheme. He let her unleash her buried fantasies. She thought it was indecent that he hypnotized her and got her to reveal this private persona about her, but she was changing her mind, and she forgave him. The feelings she was feeling right now were better than anything she could have asked for or imagined.

Serafin was struggling to stay under control. Her movements, her mouth, her wetness… it was starting to get to him. He cupped her face and gave her one last emotion-filled kiss before he pulled away. Manuela arched her eyebrows at him, silently questioning him.

Suddenly, Serafin grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the sides of her head. She saw a hunger in his eyes she had never seen before. It was exciting for her; his masculinity and dominance turned her on. He leaned his lips to her ear.

“Are you ready for the main event?” His teeth gently bit her earlobe. She sighed in response. Pulling back, he looked at her for consent. She nodded, giving him full permission. The look in her eyes said everything, more than words ever could.

He aligned himself with her entrance, then intertwined his fingers into hers, pinning her down that way. He knew she loved this.

“This may hurt honey. Let me know if I should stop. Like previously, this might feel weird but after a few seconds that will change. I can’t wait to feel you surrounding me…” he growled.

She was a teensy bit nervous. What would this feel like? Would it hurt? Yet, her gut feeling told her it would be fine, and her aching core agreed.

He kept eye contact with Manuela, and pushed the tip in. He felt Manuela squeeze his hands.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” Manuela replied, a bit breathless. “Just keep going.”

It was a bit painful, but it felt right. Serafin slowly pushed in, stretching her, until she fully enveloped him; she squeezed his hands the whole time. Bigger than anything that’s been inside her, it felt like he was stretching a sore muscle. It felt like his fingers, uncomfortable at first. She trusted that that would change. Despite this, she loved the feeling of fully taking him inside of her; it was so intimate.

Serafin almost came just from how tight she was around him. She enveloped him like a tight glove; it felt so good, and she was so warm. But, he wanted to start pleasuring her.

“You feel okay?”

“Yes honey, keep going,” Manuela replied, letting out a breath. “Try moving.”

Serafin slowly pulled out, and pushed in again. He began to rock. Once again, it feels odd, him just moving back and forth inside of her with a segment of his length, but she trusted him.

He pulled almost completely out again and pushed a bit harder, hitting that spot inside of her that he hit with his fingers earlier. It felt heavenly, and Manuela let out a moan.

“Yesss,” Manuela hissed.

“Right there?” He pressed against it again.

“Mhmm.”

He tightened his fingers into her hands and started to rock again, harder, hitting her spot continuously. Manuela couldn’t help but moan from the building, internal pleasure. Serafin lowered his mouth to the side of her neck, bathing her in kisses.

“You feel soo good baby, I love you,” Serafin cooed.

“I love you too darling.”

If it wasn’t the pleasure, it was the fact that every second Manuela was enveloping him, taking him fully, a new level of intimacy, meeting together at the groin. She was fully connected to Serafin now. In addition, he was warm, strong, taking her over… just making her feel so good. An intense pleasure began to tingle inside of her, deliciously building up, picking up where it left off when he filled her with his fingers.

Manuela wiggled her hands out of his and wrapped her arms around his back, along with her legs. She pulled him to her chest, and she lifted her hips, responding to his movements and getting into rhythm with them. The angle he was going at now intensified her pleasure even more. She was sighing, fully at his mercy.

“Mmm, faster Serafin,” she groaned sultrily.

Serafin happily thrusted harder. He could feel her tightening by the second. He moved his hands to her breasts, caressing them, then into her hair. She was blooming, rosy cheeks and chest. He kneaded her sides and her ass, until he felt her really starting to grind up against him. He was about to explode, trying to hold out as long as he could. To make it even better for her, he slid his hand between her legs and began circling her pearl.

“Ahhh, Serafin,” Manuela groaned. “That feels so good.” She clawed at his back more urgently.

“Good,” Serafin growled sultrily. His hips picked up the pace, obscene sounds filling the room, turning them both on even more. She couldn’t control her continuous grunts, moans, sounds, and neither could he. They both felt sheer bliss. Filling her like this made him so happy, and being the first person to do it. He loved her unleashing passion and intimacy.

Manuela groaned in approval. “Oh, you like that? How about a little harder?” He leaned his face to hear ear, roughly nipping at her earlobe once more. All Manuela could do was moan and nod in response, and he started to pound into her.

Manuela began to approach her climax. His continuous caresses on her bud and him touching her, licking her, pounding into her, his sounds and her sounds… She was hungry for her climax.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him even tighter. “Don’t stop Serafin, don’t stop,” she moaned out. Serafin groaned, going even faster with his caresses and movements. He buried his head into the crook of her neck.

“That’s it Manuela.” She rolled her hips against him. He could feel her so tight around him, he almost fainted. Her breathing was ragged.

“Manuela, come for me, I want to feel you around me,” he growled into her ear, deeply.

Manuela dug her fingernails into Serafin’s back and her face scrunched, head thrown back in pleasure, letting out the most obscene sounds. She started to milk him like crazy.

He growled into the crook of her neck, pounding even harder, rubbing his hand against her, letting her ride out her orgasm. She didn’t want the pleasure to end, she continued her movements.

“That’s it, good girl,” Serafin gasped out. After she was finished, his veins about to pop out of his head, he succumbed to his desire and spilled into her. He then pulled out and plopped next to her onto the cool floor, sprawled out, exhausted.

Both of them breathing heavily, they gave each other a minute. That really happened, Serafin thought. He wanted that woman like crazy, it was a longing, a yearning. Not just for her body but for her soul. She was a beautiful woman on the inside and out. He knew she needed someone like him, not that wimpy, quivering jellyfish like Don Pedro. Although he might’ve been Macoco, he wasn’t Macoco anymore. He was wondering what Manuela was thinking; he knew she enjoyed it. But what would happen next?

Manuela sighed, her thoughts cloudy. She relaxed in the aftermath. This was the first time she had ever experienced this, and it wasn’t what she was expecting; it was even better. She knew what sex was, she had heard about it, talked about it… dreamed about it, but she was pleasantly surprised by it. Serafin had her heart. Even though she could feel the almost constant physical tension between them, she knew that wasn’t the only thing binding their relationship. She loved him, and she knew he loved her, truly. He has proven it time and time again; he saved her from Don Pedro. She couldn’t imagine marrying that troublemaker, that plump, wimpy, old, unattractive man, who she knew would never take her anywhere, give her adventure, give her this pleasure… Serafin was this man she was longing for. He could be serious yet silly, weak yet strong, annoying yet sexy… It was her kind of man.

After a few minutes of silence, Serafin turned to his side, propped his head up on his elbow, and tapped Manuela. He gave her the goofiest smile.

“How was that?”

Manuela couldn’t help but give him a goofy smile back. But then her face turned serious.

“I don’t know Serafin, I think Macoco could’ve done better.” She began to twiddle her thumbs, eyeing him through her peripheral, pursing her lips, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Oh really now?” Serafin chimed, feeling challenged. He scooted over to her again, grabbing her wrists, pushing them into the pillows. He was pinning her down. “Shall I do it again and have you rethink that statement?”

Manuela smiled at him. “You might have too…”

“Oh trust me honey, I will. I’ve never heard such a falsehood like this.”

Manuela shook her head, chuckling at his words. He tightened his grip on her even more, his lips now hovering hers.

“What are you laughing about?

“You.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re funny.”

“Is this even funnier to you?”

He leaned down and met her lips once more. He let her wrists go, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They made slow, lazy kisses for the next few minutes, until Serafin pulled away.

“Gee, I don’t see you laughing. I thought you said I was funny.”

“Ha ha ha.” Manuela said in a joking tone.

“But seriously darling, how do you feel?” He pushed her baby hairs behind her ear.

“Serafin, that was truly amazing. You made me feel like a woman, and free,” she gazed into his eyes, that alone telling him more than any words could explain.

He gazed tenderly back. “That was amazing for me too. You felt so good honey,” he cooed. “And right now you feel good under me.”

“Oh, you devil,” Manuela laughed. He got her to sit up and they embraced, tenderly running their hands along each other. Manuela wanted to stay like this forever. She didn’t want him to leave her arms. She felt protected and loved. It felt good not having to worry about anything for the past few hours, but now reality was coming back. Things were going on; Serafin was supposed to be in jail. He had to be, otherwise everyone would know something was up. As much as it hurt her to break this lovely moment, she needed him to face reality again.

She felt even better in his arms, he thought, compared to under him or on top of him. She was so warm, beautiful, delicate… He too wanted this moment to last forever. But, like Manuela, reality was setting in. He didn’t want her to get in trouble or hurt. If it was possible, he wanted Manuela to be least suspected out of anybody in this town if anything were to happen. It would break his heart if anything ever happened to her, especially because of his sake.

Manuela was about to say something, but Serafin silenced her with his finger to her lips. They both had the same understanding; Serafin had to leave.

“I’d better go now.”

Manuela nodded over the inevitable.

He slowly released her and they both stood up. They got dressed again, fixing their almost torn apart clothes from their previous passion. Manuela picked up the pillows and blanket, and handed them to Serafin. He laid them back neatly the way they originally were. He noticed his chest lying there among the many riches. He walked over to it and tried to open it, but they put a lock on it.

“Manuela look,” he summoned her over. “They’ve locked my chest.”

“Maybe they thought you’d come down here and take it,” Manuela quipped, a playful smirk on her face.

“Macoco would be able to, I don’t know about Serafin.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Manuela replied, raising her eyebrows, blindly staring at the chest, arms folded. “At first I thought Serafin wasn’t capable of giving a girl a good time, only Macoco. But now I’m begging to differ.”

Blood rushed to Serafin’s groin. “I better go before you change your mind and are unsure again.”

They both laughed at his comment. It was a bittersweet moment. They didn’t know when they’d see each other again, and they had to leave now.

Serafin sighed, his laugh disappearing. “Alright sweetheart, we actually have to go now.”

He went over to turn off the lamp, and then he led Manuela to the stairs, holding his hand out, beckoning her to go.

“Ladies first.”

“Yes Captain.”

She took his hand and he followed her up the stairs. He took one last look below before he closed the cellar door.

“Doesn’t look suspicious to me, what do you think?”

Manuela peeked over. “Looks fine to me.”

Serafin slowly closed the door, as quiet as possible. Thank God Don Pedro wasn’t in here. He would’ve heard everything.

“I thought that pumpkin slept in here at night.”

Manuela quietly laughed. “Yes he does. I wonder what he’s doing. He’s probably drunk now.” Serafin laughed. “But darling, you need to be quiet, I don’t know who else is around. Someone could hear us and know you’re gone.”

“Manuela, always trying to play it safe. Aren’t you into danger?”

“Of course I am, but not at the expense of your life. Why, they’re planning on hanging you already. We don’t need it to happen any sooner.”

She grabbed the key lying on the floor and locked the cellar door. She carefully laid the carpet neatly over the door, making it look like nothing happened.

They both stood up, and Manuela put the key back under the table leg. “Well, what’s the plan?”

“I think you should just go back home, and I’ll sneak back to the jail myself. It’s safer for you, and I think I’m pretty capable of it alone. I don’t think I’ll get caught.”

Manuela sighed, afraid of what might happen to him but also not wanting to leave him. She put her hands on her hips, silently thinking about it. After being conflicted for a minute, she agreed.

“Yes, I guess so. It’d be quieter for you to go back anyway. Everything in that damn jail is so creaky and broken that even a mouse could probably wake up everyone.”

“We didn’t though.”

“No, we didn’t, because we make a good team.”

Serafin smiled at her. She was right. They did make a good team.

“I guess this is goodbye for now.”

“I guess so… unfortunately.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m sure of it,” Serafin leaned in to give her a hug, and he squeezed her tight. He nuzzled his cheek into hers, and kissed the side of her neck. He kept kissing up her jawline until he reached her lips, meeting them with a new level of intimacy. Manuela wrapped her arms around him, gladly accepting and wanting the kiss. After a few moments, they separated. Serafin opened Don Pedro’s door, and with one last glance, they parted, Serafin in one direction and Manuela in the other.

The rest is history ;)

Go check out @formeandmyfics new fic tomorrow as well, or by the time you’re reading this it might be up !

#jugenea #judy garland #gene kelly #the pirate #fan fiction #fanfiction #jg fans

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jamiemackenziefraser · 3 years

Text

The Set Up

Summary: College students and best friends Claire and Jamie are secretly dating. While back at home for a break, they go on a getaway to a lakehouse with their friends. Shenanigans ensue when Geillis and the others become determined to set Claire up with Frank. Unable to dissuade her without giving away her secret, Claire is forced to play along... much to Jamie’s dismay.

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I couldn’t help but stare at Jamie as we all piled out of Dougal’s van. It had been a long trip to the Mackenzie lakehouse (especially interminable for me since I had been squashed between Angus and Rupert in the back), and Jamie was stretching his long limbs in the open space of the driveway. His shirt rode up as he lifted his arms, revealing a delicious strip of smooth skin at his belly and giving me a tease of his remarkable abs. His red curls gleamed in the sunlight, framing his face in a soft halo of bronze. I wanted nothing more than to jump over Rupert and throw myself into my boyfriend’s arms and kiss the living daylights out of him.

But the problem was that he wasn’t just my boyfriend. He was a secret boyfriend.

Our relationship had progressed from best friends to much more than friends after we had gone away to university together. While we were free to flaunt our love on campus, things were much more complicated back home. Jamie’s parents put enormous pressure on him not to date and to focus on his studies, and would be even more appalled to learn he was with a Sassenach. To make matters worse, Jamie’s father, Brian, had major beef with my Uncle Lamb. All of this was the perfect storm to make telling our families nearly impossible for the moment. So, we had decided to keep our relationship a secret while back at home-- even to our childhood friends (who we knew wouldn’t be able to keep their gabs shut).

After all, how hard could it be to hide things for a little while?

I broke myself out of my longing for Jamie and walked to the back of the van to retrieve my duffle. I dove fearlessly into the precariously packed trunk, filled to the brim with supplies (and booze) for the weekend. I was working to extricate my bag from under a layer of other junk when a familiar, solid body pressed behind me and reached around me to pluck my bag from the mess.

“Here, lass,” Jamie’s voice rumbled in his chest, and I could feel it against my back. I couldn’t help the tiny gasp that fell from my lips.

“Thanks,” I murmured demurely, taking the offered bag from his hand.

Before I could turn toward the cabin where the rest of our friends were crowding the door-- which Dougal was seemingly struggling to unlock-- Jamie’s arm wrapped around my waist and kept me pressed to his front.

He leaned down, and his lips brushed against the shell of my ear as he whispered, “ye look verra bonny wi’ yer wee tank top and shorts.”

I turned myself in his grip so I was facing him, suddenly thankful for the protection of the car hiding us from view.

I gave him a playful smirk, and as I freed myself from his arms, I said playfully, “thank you, friend James. But if you keep that up, everyone will end up getting an eyeful.” I gave him a wink, and then turned my back to him to walk up to the front door, knowing full well that his gaze was fixed on my ass.

“Damn door,” Dougal was cursing as I approached.

Angus was wrestling the key away from him, taking his turn to try his hand at unlocking the house.

“Dougal, I swear, if we hafta drive all the way back because ye cannae even get into yer own cabin...” Geillis was starting in on her boyfriend.

“Can I try?” I asked an unsuccessful Angus, who was cursing up a storm in Gaelic which I assumed were rather unkind sentiments aimed at the doorknob.

I had just tried and failed when Jamie reached us.

“Alright, lad, yer the last one who hasna tried this damnable thing,” Dougal grumbled.

Jamie obliged, but found no success either. I set my duffle down in dismay. It seemed a bad omen for the trip that it hadn’t even begun and we had already been defeated by a faulty lock.

At that moment, Frank walked around from the side of the house, running a hand through his short, dark hair.

“The mechanism must be jammed,” he said, his accent crisp and prim as ever, “but there’s a window unlocked in the back. Shall we check it out?”

My friends all exchanged a look, and we nodded simultaneously, at a loss for anything else to try.

We walked around the back of the cabin and looked up at the window. It was small, and well off the ground. I found myself swallowing in dismay.

Dougal-- ever the unelected (and often unwanted) leader of the group-- was quick to take charge.

“Alright, this is a two man job. Jamie, yer the tallest, so ye’re on bottom of course. Anyone fancy gettin’ hoisted through a window?”

We all looked at each other in silence, exchanging wide-eyed looks of “not me.”

Jamie was not having it though. He stepped toward the window and turned to fix his blue gaze directly on me.

“Alright, lass, ye’re the smallest. Ready to take a wee trip through the windae?”

I rolled my eyes but stepped forward obligingly. I knew exactly why Jamie had called me out, and it wasn’t because of my petite frame. The man was eager for any excuse to put his hands on me.

He tilted his head down and gave me a little smirk.

“Hold on, Sassenach.”

With that, big hands were around my waist and lifting me off my feet. I let out a little squeal of surprise as I was suddenly hoisted into the air as if I weighed nothing.

I quickly got with the program, though, and reached up for the window. I fumbled with the bottom, trying to push it upward so I could climb in.

I felt myself moving and thought for a second that I was falling, but Jamie was just settling me to sit on his shoulder. I breathed a sigh of relief and used my new secure position to leverage the window open.

“In ye go, lass,” came Jamie’s voice from below me.

His hands went from my waist down to my hips, and suddenly he was shoving me up and toward the window.

I caught the ledge and pushed myself through, all but diving into the opening.

But instead of sailing through, I landed on my stomach with an “oof” and found myself caught halfway through the window.

There were various chuckles as Jamie obligingly placed both hands on my butt and pushed. I tumbled through the window and landed on the floor with a thud that made all the breath leave my lungs. I lay on the floor stunned for a second, fighting to regain my breath.

“Ye alright, lass?” Dougal called.

I groaned and sat up. I hauled myself up and poked my head through the window.

“Just fine,” I grumbled, “I’m going to open the door.”

I crossed the room to the front door, listening to the stomping feet outside running around the cabin. I unlocked it and whipped open the door. I made a grandiose gesture with my arm to welcome them to the house, and they all applauded. Taking my role as doorman seriously, I held it open as each of my friends-- Dougal and Gellis, Angus and Rupert, Frank, and finally Jamie-- came through. Jamie, on his way in, gave me an owlish blink that passed for a wink, and I had to stifle a laugh.

I was interrupted out of my thoughts by a shout from Angus.

“Oi! Dougal. Ye call this a lakehouse? I thought yer family was rich?”

The cabin indeed was sparse… to say the least. The main room, which functioned both as a kitchen and living room, was covered in a fine layer of dust. The two couches seemed cozy though, and the kitchen was equipped, other than the fact that the sink was missing a faucet and one of the kitchen chairs had a leg broken off. The hardwood floors were mostly intact. Off to the side was a single hallway that led to the bathroom and the three bedrooms.

It would do.

Everyone began to separate-- making to explore and claim bedrooms.

It was quickly divided that Geillis and I would bunk together, Dougal and Frank, and finally, Jamie would be stuck with Rupert and Angus. I gave him a little smirk and then a sympathetic pout as he followed behind the two boys to set their stuff in the shared room.

Geillis grabbed my hand, and dragged me into ours.

As soon as we had gotten settled in, Geillis plopped herself down on the bed we’d be sharing and then rolled onto her back so she was looking up at me from her upside-down position.

“Soooo, Claire, darling…” she said in a sing-songy coo.

I rolled my eyes. “What Geillis?”

“Who are ye gonna hook up wi’ this trip?”

I started to laugh, but it turned into a choke, and I gasped for air in disbelief. I felt my cheeks flushing.

“What the hell do you mean?” I stuttered out as I willed my cheeks to calm down.

“Ye’re the only single girl on this trip wi’ loads of guys, duh,” Geillis rolled her eyes, and then rolled herself over to her stomach and propped her chin on her crossed arms in front of her.

“Listen, my beautiful prudish friend. Dougal and I have been talkin’...”

“Do you speculate on my love life often?” I asked in a poor attempt to deflect. I was starting to feel some discomfort pricking at the back of my spine. Did she somehow know about me and Jamie?

“We’ve been thinkin’,” she started again, looking at me with raised eyebrows that dared me to interrupt, “you and Frank would make a verra fine pair.”

Several emotions rushed through me at the same time. First was relief that she didn’t actually know about me and Jamie and our secret was safe. The second was disgust. The thought of Frank and I together almost made me want to laugh in her face. Finally, my brain added just a bit of panic to the mix, because I would have to tell her “no” without arousing any suspicion.

“I don’t think so…” I chuckled dubiously. I shook my head as an involuntary blush warmed my cheeks.

Geillis sat straight up, bouncing on her knees on the bed, and tugged on my arm with both hands.

“Claaaaire,” she whined.

“I’m just not into him, Geil.”

She fixed me with cold green eyes. “That lad is fiiine,” she purred, “and he looks at ye like ye’re the bloody queen herself. He’s always carried a torch for ye. Why will ye no’ give him a try?”

“I just-” I started to protest, but Geillis cut me off.

“Give me one good reason why ye dinna want tae be wi’ Frank, and I’ll leave ye alone. But… If ye keep givin’ me these weak-ass excuses, I’m settin’ ye up.”

Panic rushed through my veins. I wished I could press pause on the whole situation and go talk with Jamie. My mind was racing, trying to come up with any excuse other than the truth. But my traitorous brain couldn’t come up with a single thing.

I opened my mouth, and then closed it again, looking at my friend helplessly.

With Jamie’s pleas to keep this a secret for a little while longer ringing in my mind, I made a split-second decision.

“Fine. Set us up.”

***

Apparently Geillis version of “setting us up” was forcing me into situations where I was alone with Frank as much as possible.

“Oh bloody feckin’ hell!” Geillis exclaimed, looking in her bag, “I must have left my chapstick all the way out in the car. Claire, darling,” she turned to me where I was sitting at the kitchen table, “will ye go get it for me?”

“Sure!” I said, standing up and reaching for the offered keys.

“Oh, but it’s saaae dark out there. A wee lass like yerself shouldnae go alone. Frank, would ye be a dear and see Claire safe?”

Frank gave a smile, also standing from his spot on the couch. “Of course,” he said, flashing his most handsome smile toward me.

I was aware that some (perhaps even many) women in our town were head-over-heels for him, finding him dashing. But as he offered an arm, the only thing I felt was annoyance.

The whole group was observing this, and a few childish “ooohs” emanated from where Rupert and Angus sat by the fireplace. I rolled my eyes.

Jamie suddenly appeared from the next room, drawn by the small ruckus.

“What’s-” he started to ask what was going on.

Geillis, looking incredibly proud of her match-making work, announced, “Oh, Claire and Frank were jus’ goin’ out together tae grab somethin’ from the car for me.”

Jamie— processing the scene before him as well as Geillis’ words— suddenly tensed, and his eyes flashed. Jamie had a very good poker face, and I doubted anyone noticed but me, but I knew him well enough to know jealous anger when I saw it. His blue eyes held a look of contempt aimed at the dark-haired Englishmen who was still holding out his arm toward me.

“I’d be happy to go get it fer ye instead, Geil,” Jamie tried.

It was a valiant effort to save me, I thought. But he severely underestimated the power of Geillis’ match-making efforts.

“Nae, nae, Claire and Frank would be happy tae do it. But thanks, lad. Off ye go now, ye two.”

I gave Jamie a covert look of helpless dismay and watched as he slumped in defeat. I felt a similar reluctance as I took Frank’s offered arm and we walked together outside.

The door shut behind us, and the safety of Jamie’s presence-- and everyone else’s-- slipped away.

“So,” Frank said, “it seems Geillis has it on her mind that we’d make a good couple.”

I laughed. “Seems that way.”

A nervous bubble was forming in my stomach.

“As does everyone else…” he said. It seemed he was trying to lead me toward something.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just stayed silent, lips pressed firmly together.

Frank seemed to take that as shyness, because he stepped closer to me as we walked down the driveway, and then grew even bolder.

“I have to say, I’m inclined to agree with them,” he purred.

His words rang in my ears as panic gripped me. My throat felt dry and scratchy, and I had no idea how to answer him. Why hadn’t I fought Geillis harder on this?

Frank suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

“You’re beautiful, Claire,” he announced. He said it was such finality, it was as if he expected me to throw myself at him in gratitude for the compliment. As if him saying it somehow sealed the deal that I should feel something for him.

I mustered a “thanks,” and then quickly scurried toward the van.

I unlocked it and threw myself into the passenger's seat before Frank could say anything else to me. I rooted around in the glove compartment until I found Geillis’ chapstick, cursing both it and her under my breath. I wished that I could just run inside to Jamie, grab his hand, and drag him outside with me.

But that wasn’t in the cards for us just now. So, accepting my fate, I hopped out of the van to face Frank again.

He was waiting patiently for me next to the van. Apparently he was taking his job of protecting me from all the late-evening attackers (ha!) because he was looking around as if he was really surveying the area for dangers to protect me from.

He offered his arm, and I reluctantly took it again.

Frank was a good guy. He was my friend. I didn’t want to be terribly mean to him. Even more, I didn’t want to endure another grilling session from Geillis about why I didn’t like him. I would just have to play along for the weekend. Suck it up, Beauchamp.

Frank was blessedly quiet on our way back in, and before I knew it, we were once again inside the cabin and in the protection of the presence of others.

Little did I know that the “others” would actually provide very little protection, and would more be terrible influences and orchestrators of putting me in situations I didn’t want to be in.

I wished I could talk to Jamie and explain what the hell was going on, but there wasn’t really an opportunity in the small cabin to get him alone without raising suspicion.

For the thousandth time this trip, I wished that I could throw myself at Jamie and feel his arms wrapped around me, hugging me close. I imagined what would happen if I got up at that very moment, walked around the room, and sat down on Jamie’s lap. My mind fantasized about how Jamie would pull me close and kiss me in front of everyone, and then allow me to snuggle into him and lay my head on his shoulder as the guys told their stories.

But that wasn’t the way things were just yet.

The group had just had dinner and was settling down in front of the fireplace on the couches. Anticipating all the alcohol we were about to drink, we’d whipped up a bucketload of spaghetti on the rickety stove and wolfed it down. Then, the drinks were broken out, and the festivities moved to the living room.

I was sitting next to Geillis nursing a beer and wondering to myself why anyone ever drank the foul stuff. I cursed myself for letting Rupert and Angus be in charge of the booze selection.

All of a sudden, Geillis, in her typical dramatic fashion, shot to her feet.

“Oh Frank,” she called across the room to the dark-haired man who was leaning against the wall, “come take my spot. Next to Claire.”

Geillis shot me a smirk over her shoulder, and I had to restrain myself to keep from rolling my eyes. I turned instead to watch Frank heading toward us, and in the process, caught sight of Jamie sitting across the room, his nose buried in his beer and eyes lowered. But I noticed the clench in his jaw, and my heart ached in sympathy.

I was brought from my musings when Frank plopped down on the couch next to me, the impact causing a slight tremor in the cushions that sent me sliding toward the middle-- closer to Frank, damn it.

Frank turned toward me and was just about to open his mouth when I was saved from a private conversation by Rupert.

“Claire,” he bellowed, “who dae ye think would win in a fight— Dougal or a black bear?”

“Oh definitely Dougal. He’s got enough rage to take down something 3 times his size.”

All the boys let out guffaws, smacking Dougal’s shoulder in congratulations at the praise.

As the conversation went on, I found my head had a pleasant buzz, and I remembered why beer wasn’t so bad. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying it too. The room had a warmth in it-- a bright, cozy atmosphere that made everyone a little more boisterous.

Frank, for his part, was especially melted by the cozy feel. He had been moving closer and closer to me as the conversations progressed so his thigh now touched mine and his side was barely pressed against me. Just as Angus was telling a dirty joke, Frank took the opportunity to raise his arm and drape it over my shoulder.

I started to stiffen, but forced myself to calm down. This was innocent, I could handle this.

But someone else couldn’t quite handle it.

I saw the exact moment when Jamie looked up to catch sight of us. A shadow fell across his features and they instantly hardened into a stony expression. But his eyes-- God his eyes-- they flashed an intense blue as they narrowed, and I could see every bit of tension in his muscles. He was coiled so tightly I thought he must surely either burst or fly across the room. But he was using every ounce of self control he possessed not to rush over, pull Frank from me, and beat him to a pulp.

For not the first time that night, I felt a little bad for Frank. The poor sop thought he had a real shot with a single woman. He had no idea the truth. Guilt made my stomach churn. I wasn’t exactly leading him on-- I made no mention that I returned his affections nor signaled that I enjoyed his touch in any way— but Frank had persisted.

So, Frank’s arm rested around my shoulders, and Jamie sulked across the room, his eyes never leaving us once.

Nearly an hour later, we were all well and truly sloshed. For me, that meant wanting desperately to jump Jamie’s bones. It must have been the same for Geillis and Dougal, because they disappeared into the back bedroom Dougal and Frank would be sharing. For Frank, he grew more bold, and had himself pressed fully against me. He kept trying to spark up conversation with me, but everything about him seemed to dull, and I mostly ignored him. Poor drunk Jamie was so fixated on me and Frank that he hardly said a word. He just glowered from his spot in the shadows across the room. Finally, for Angus and Rupert, their drunkenness was simply an intensification of their usual uninhibited personalities.

So, naturally, some fireworks were broken out.

“Do ye ken wha’ would happen if we sent it up the chimney?!” Angus bellowed.

“Woaahh,” I staggered to my feet-- blissfully removing myself from Frank’s arm-- and stumbled over to where Angus and Rupert were already knelt by a big box of fireworks that they produced from God-knows-where.

“I ha’ a lighter!” Rupert announced proudly as he produced said lighter from his pocket.

“You are going to burn the whole house down!” I exclaimed. I snatched the lighter from his fingers and walked into the kitchen to set it on the table.

When I returned, Jamie was staring at me unabashedly, and his beautiful blue eyes were pleading with me not to return to Frank’s side.

His wish was granted as Angus pulled out a couple sparklers with a wide grin and an opened-mouth laugh of glee. Before I could react, he was sprinting for the kitchen and grabbing the lighter. Rupert was on his heels, and the two boys smashed into each other as they reached the table. Angus snagged the lighter, and they both ran around to the other side of the island, sparklers in hand.

I found I didn’t have the willpower to stop them and could only pray that they didn’t burn the cabin down as they lit the sparklers. I watched in both fascination and dread as the little fireworks shot into sparks of light. Angus and Rupert waved them around triumphantly in the kitchen, faced awed.

I instinctively turned back toward the living room with the desire to see Jamie’s reaction, but to my surprise, I found him stalking into the kitchen, his usually soft blue eyes hard with anger and authority.

“Outside. Now,” he bellowed at the two fools. His voice held all the authority of a drill sergeant, and even more menacing was his posture. His back was ramrod straight, and his arm lifted to point straight at the door.

Jamie’s order sent Angus and Rupert scurrying for the door. I watched with a bit of disbelief as the very drunken men (boys, really) fell over themselves to shove their way outside, the sparklers still popping in their hands. Frank rose, too, muttering something about making sure they didn’t kill themselves.

The moment the door closed behind the three of them, hands were wrapping around my waist and pulling me into the protection of an alcove near the back door, and a hard body pressed me against the wall.

Before I had any time to process my sudden change of location, Jamie’s lips were attacking mine. He kissed with all the desperation and ferocity of a man who was starving. His arms tightening around my waist and pulling me flush against his body, he held me close and ravished my mouth. I felt him pouring out all the possessive energy that I knew had been building the entire night. I returned his kiss with equal desperation, my drunken brain responding on instinct, and I wrapped my arms around him.

“Ye’re mine,” he all but growled against my lips.

I managed a breathy, “yours,” just before his fingers wrapped themselves into my hair and tugged me into another deep kiss.

Finally, he pulled back, and we were both panting for breath, chests heaving in the slightest. I took a moment to study his face. His lips were puffy and his face lit with a fine dusting of red high on his cheekbones. But as my gaze swept further upward, I saw that his eyes blazed with possessive jealousy. That hard look made me sober instantly.

“Jamie, I’m sorry, they--” I started.

He seemed to deflate a bit, the muscles of his shoulders relaxing for the first time nearly this whole evening. He reached out a hand and softly cupped my cheek, and then let his fingers explore backward so they were carding through my curls. I melted into his soft touch.

“I dinna fash, I ken it’s no’ yer fault,” he said, instantly assuaging my fears.

I drew closer to him like a moon drawn into orbit. Pressing myself to him, I let my head thump against his shoulder in exasperation.

“Geillis has it in her head that Frank and I would make a great couple. I couldn’t tell her no without exposing us…”

“I ken, they’ve all been shovin’ the two of ye together all night,'' he growled, “and I could see ye pleadin’ wi’ me to rescue ye. God, Claire, I wish to God I couldha rushed over and torn his arm from his body jes’ for touchin’ ye.”

I tried to cut Jamie off, but he wasn’t done.

“Christ, Sassenach. I could kill him for this.”

Before I could start a reply— I had no idea what I might have said: defended Frank or tried to reassure Jamie— a warm mouth was capturing mine again. With a little whisper of a gasp, Jamie detached from my lips and started trailing his mouth down my jaw and to my neck.

He began to suck on the skin there, and my hands flew up to bury my fingers in his curls in response. I held him against me as he nipped and sucked and worried his teeth into the sensitive skin.

“He means nothing to me, Jamie--” my words were punctuated by a gasp, “I just have to play along-- for a little— until I can tell Geillis it didn’t work out.” His talented lips traveling up and down my neck made it nearly impossible for me to get the words out.

Jamie rose up, his eyes glimmering with the now familiar deep shade of blue that indicated jealousy, and towered above me.

“Aye. Play along. Jes’ dinna forget that ye’re mine.”

I shook my head and fixed him with earnest eyes.

“Never,” I breathed.

He gave me a smile that made my stomach flutter and my fears about his reaction dissolve completely.

Reaching down to tug me closer again, he joined our lips once more, and I finally had the opportunity to simply revel in his nearness, as I had been dreaming of doing this entire day.

Just as I lifted my hands to tangle in his curls and pull him closer, the sound of the door opening sent us flying apart.

Since I was trapped against the wall, after Jamie jumped backward, he quickly turned away from me and grabbed at something on the kitchen table in an attempt at nonchalance. I surveyed the alcove I was in and discovered a scrub brush hanging on a hook on the wall. Holding it up, I emerged to see the three men standing in the living room, paying zero attention to the kitchen. I abandoned my hastily-discovered, but now unnecessary, excuse by the sink and headed back toward them.

“So, did you boys have a nice time safely enjoying your fireworks?” I inquired.

“Aye!” Rupert bellowed, and I let out a laugh-- mostly releasing nervous energy at how close Jamie and I had gotten to being discovered.

As I walked back over, I noticed Frank’s dark eyes watching me intently. I could tell he had words on the tip of his tongue.

I must have returned his gaze for a second too long because suddenly the words were coming.

“It’s awfully pleasant out there. You can see so many stars. Care to join me, Claire?”

It took every ounce of self control for me not to turn behind me and shoot a helpless look at Jamie. But I could feel his eyes on me by the prickle in my spine. His weren’t the only pair fixed on me, though, as Frank was staring at me, waiting for me to respond to his invitation.

“Frank, that’s very kind, but I really am tired and think maybe I should--”

“It’s only 10 pm, ye granny!” Angus interjected, “ye cannae go tae bed this early!”

I stifled a groan of frustration. This weekend was making me understand the definition of “stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

I forced myself to give a smile to Frank. “Oh, alright then. But not for too long. I wouldn’t want to fall asleep on the porch.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’d carry you inside--”

Frank’s flirtation was cut off by a loud bang from the kitchen. All heads swiveled in that direction to find Jamie standing at the sink (his expression nothing short of smug).

“Oh, sorry, dropped a pot,” he said, voice sounding not at all apologetic.

He gave me a tiny reassuring nod which soothed the knot in my stomach and gave me the courage to turn back to Frank.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Somehow, I felt that I was walking to my own execution.

* Fortunately— and I truly thanked God profusely— Frank was not so drunk that he tried to kiss me. We just sat side-by-side on the edge of the porch and looked out at the sky. There was enough distance between us to help me feel comfortable (although I caught him trying to scooch closer a few times). Mostly, Frank rambled on about the constellations, naming them and giving some random fact about their discovery or uniqueness. I had been lying earlier when I had said I was tired, but after listening to Frank drone on (I pitied the girl who would someday actually go on a real date with him), I really began to actually want to doze.

My head jerked once as I nodded off and then caught myself, and when I looked up, I found Frank staring at me in the moonlight.

“Maybe you should go to bed…” Frank politely gave me the out, and I couldn’t have been more grateful.

“I think I should,” I agreed, and before he could say another word, I stood up and brushed my hands down my pants.

I bid him a hasty, “Goodnight, Frank,” and then fled inside.

In the living room, Rupert and Angus were passed out on the couches— Rupert with one leg thrown over the top of the arm, and Angus fully upside down, with his head off the edge— and both snoring profusely. Jamie was sitting in a chair by the hearth, giving a glum look to the neck of his half-drunk beer bottle. When I entered, his gaze shot up toward me. I knew Frank would be on my heels, so I couldn’t linger to comfort him. I just gave him a calming smile, blew him a discreet kiss, and then said, “Goodnight, Jamie,” just as the door opened again.

“Goodnight, Sassenach,” came his reply as I fled toward the door of my room.

Geillis was still with Dougal (I pitied Frank if he was careless enough to head into his and Dougal’s shared room) so I splayed myself out on the bed and luxuriated in the feeling of being horizontal. It had been a long day, and I was more than ready to fall into the embrace of unconsciousness. I managed to get myself up to brush my teeth, take ibuprofen, and drink some water before I fell back into bed.

As I started to drift off, thoughts of Jamie circled mercilessly in my head. I sighed, rolled over to my other side, and fluffed the pillow under my cheek. I hated this whole situation. Still, the way he had kissed me-- God, maybe jealousy was kind of hot. That brought a smile to my face, and as I closed my eyes again, I relived Jamie slamming me into the wall and kissing me over and over in my head.

*** The next morning brought a broken stove. Thankfully, Dougal was able to produce a camping stove from somewhere in the basement, and we all gathered on the porch to watch as he made pancakes. Geillis managed to shove Frank at me and get him to sit next to me on the porch swing, but other than his thwarted attempt at taking my hand, the morning was rather uneventful.

That day, we were planning to head to Loch A’an for a day of swimming. It would be a bit of hiking to the lake, and a cold swim once we got there, but Dougal and Jamie knew of a secluded beach that promised some fun without too many tourists.

Standing above my suitcase to get ready, I sighed to myself as I pulled out my swimming suit. The little black bikini had been chosen for Jamie’s discreet enjoyment. (I had secretly imagined how his eyes would bug out and how he’d have to hold his tongue when I first undressed at the lakeshore.) But now, with Frank’s attentions, I regretted bringing such a risque choice.

I changed quickly, and just as I was about to put on my shirt, Geillis entered the room.

When I had managed to fit my head through the collar and tug it down, I noticed Geillis looking at me with a smirk.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Ye have a hickey, Claire.”

I let out a gasp, and slapped a hand over the sore spot on my neck. I walked over to the mirror and looked to find I indeed had a hickey just at the edge of my collar.

Damn it, Jamie!

“Things go well wi’ Frank last night, then?” Geillis prodded.

“Uhh--” I stuttered helplessly.

I couldn't very well deny it, because there were no other options as to who would have given it to me.

“I--” I started again.

Geillis was looking at me with those big “spill the gossip” green eyes.

“I have to go!” I burst out.

I frantically snagged my bag and fled the room, then ran outside to join the safety of others.

On the drive, Dougal’s van bumping viciously on the gravel roads, the boys burst out into Gaelic song. Frank and I-- momentarily united by our Sassenach nature-- could only laugh along at their rowdy renditions. I smiled to myself when Jamie’s voice rose above the rest. He was adorably off key but he more than made up for it with his enthusiasm and unabashed volume.

It was a thankfully short drive, and the songs switched to English halfway through which allowed me to participate. Before I knew it, Dougal was pulling into the lot. We all piled out with nearly the same eagerness as we had after the 4 hour drive to get to the cabin.

As soon as we were out, I hastily slathered sunscreen over my poor pasty skin. Jamie always told me that I had ‘verra fine skin, like pearl,’ but I was cursing it since no one else had stopped to put any on themselves and were just about to leave me behind. Jamie, bless his heart, lingered back while the others started up the trail.

I finished as quickly as I could and ran to catch up. As I reached Jamie, he gently grasped my elbow and pulled me close to him (with a careful eye ahead to be sure no one was looking back).

“I wish I could help ye wi’ that sunscreen, a nighean,” he said in a low voice right next to my ear. A shiver went down my spine in response, but I didn’t trust my lips with words.

We quickened our pace to catch up with the others, and soon we had made it to the back of the group.

I took in the surroundings with awe. The cliffs, green with the summer, loomed around us. Their tips were jagged and rocky, and I felt myself itching to climb to the top of one to take in the view. It was a perfect summer day. Blessedly, it wasn’t raining, and the sun glimmered off of the water in the distance. It had been unseasonably warm that summer, almost unnaturally so, which was the only reason we were daring to swim in the usually chilly lake.

I was so entranced by the scenery that about halfway into our hike, my foot slipped off a rock on the edge of the path. My ankle rolled, and I let out a yelp as I started to skid down the slight embankment.

Quick as a flash, Jamie had grabbed my arm and hauled me up. I fell against him, still completely off balance, and found myself pressed to his chest for a second before I gained awareness and pulled back.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?” Jamie asked. I noticed his eyes were shining with worry.

The rest of the group had halted and turned back, and Geillis was making her way toward me from the front of the group.

“I’m fine, I think. I rolled my ankle a little though.”

I tested my weight on it and winced as a small jolt of pain traveled up my leg.

“Do ye need me tae take ye back?” Jamie asked in a low voice.

“I’m alright, it’s just a little tender. I can keep going. Maybe just can you--”

“Frank!” Geillis’ sing-songy call interrupted my question, “why dinna ye help Claire? Her puir ankle is painin’ her, I’m sure she could use an arm tae hold onto.”

Frank split apart from the group and materialized at my side.

“Allow me,” He said as he managed to shoulder his way between me and Jamie.

I stood mutely, and he walked around to my bad side and started to lift my right arm over his shoulder.

“Oh, that’s really not necessary, I can walk,” I chuckled nervously as his hand snaked its way around my waist.

“Perhaps just until the soreness wears off,” Frank said dismissively.

He took a step forward, and pressed to him as I was, I went with him. I accepted my fate with the burning of embarrassment flaring in my cheeks.

Truth be told, it was helpful to relieve the pressure on my ankle. Frank actually made a decent crutch, and we quickly found our rhythm. Worse than the pain in my ankle would have been, though, was the sight of Jamie walking next to me but just out of reach. His shoulders were slumped, and he was trying desperately not to look at us.

God, I wished it was his arms around me.

I clenched my teeth and allowed Frank to help me forward. The ground soon turned into an incline, and I looked up from my feet to see that we were nearing the secluded beach of the lake. It was a rocky shoreline, with big boulders sticking up out of the water all over the place, but it still looked very inviting. A child-like glee rushed through me at the thought of playing around the boulders and in the water.

Soon, we were all on the beach, and Frank was letting me go to set down his things. The boys ripped off their shirts, and Angus and Rupert went flying into the water with loud whoops of glee. I set down my bag and then straightened to find two pairs of eyes on me-- Frank and Jamie.

Jamie had already stripped off his shirt, and I took a fleeting glance up and down his body to appreciate him. Frank stood further from the water, by the bushes, but I could tell he was just as eager as my boyfriend to watch me strip down to my swimming suit.

A wave of frustration swept over me, and I felt very bold as I met Frank’s gaze and gave him a chastising stare in return. Realizing he had been discovered watching, Frank averted his eyes, and made to take off his own shirt.

Might as well get this over with, Beauchamp.

I stripped off my shirt and shimmied down my shorts all in one quick motion, and then threw the clothes into my bag.

Jamie’s reaction was comically similar to what I had imagined.

His eyes did indeed go wide, as his gaze very markedly raked up and down my body. A grin started to form on his lips, but then he suddenly remembered our location, and horror flashed in his eyes as he looked toward Frank and the others. I thought Jamie had half a mind to run over and throw his shirt over me to cover me up (the thought of which made me laugh), but he was left frozen and rooted in place.

I began walking toward the water, hoping perhaps I could get there before Frank finished rummaging through his bag. But no such luck. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him catch sight of me, but I had no desire to take in his reaction.

Damn it, I am not on display for you to ogle!

I waded quickly into the water, gasping at its chilly temperature and then hastily sinking down in the shallows to hide myself from any unwanted view.

Soon, all of my frustration over male objectification was swept from my mind as Geillis appeared and tried to dunk my head under water.

We swam and clambered on rocks and boulders for what felt like hours. I floated in the water and allowed the sun to warm me, occasionally turning over to dive under and enjoy the feeling of being submerged in the cold water.

After a while, I grew tired, and I swam my way over to a cluster of particularly large rocks. I pulled myself up onto one and stretched out on its warm surface. Peaking around to make sure that Frank hadn’t snuck up on me without my notice (I had been carefully avoiding him ever since getting in the water), I noticed that the rocks blocked me from view of the entire group, and I allowed myself to relax. The surface of the rock was smooth, as if made for lounging, and I soaked up as much of its warmth as I could.

I nearly screamed as a hand closed around my ankle and jerked me out of my peaceful daze.

I clamped my mouth shut as I caught sight of a grinning Jamie, his curls wet and dripping around his face, his upper body resting casually on my rock.

“Sorry tae startle ye, mo ghraidh. It’s jes’ that ye looked sae bonny and peaceful, I couldna help myself.”

The hand moved from my ankle to caress up the outside of my calf and squeeze. Even just a subtle touch like that had me sitting up and reaching for him.

“Get up here, bloody Scot,” I whispered.

We both took a quick glance around to ensure no one else had wandered into our secluded spot, and then the next moment, Jamie was hauling himself up next to me and gathering me into his arms.

The kiss was nothing like the one the night before. Jamie took his time, lips soft and giving as he patiently pressed them to mine. His hand reached up to cup my neck (God his hand was so big) and his thumb massaged it gently. The kiss was a slow burn, but the fire nonetheless scorching for it. I felt him smile against me as I smoothed my hands greedily over the bare skin of his back.

“I’ve missed ye,” he murmured against my lips.

“We’ve been together all day,” I teased, knowing completely what he meant. I had been feeling the same way. Being so close to him yet forbidden to touch him or even pay attention to him was maddening.

“Aye, but ye and Frank have been together all day, too,” Jamie’s voice absolutely dripped with jealousy, and his burr came out strong with Frank’s name, turning it into a derisive “Frrrrrank.”

“I don’t want to talk about him, I just want to enjoy being with you,” I pleaded as I fused our lips together again.

I hated that every moment had to be stolen in secret. Even now, I would have given anything to spend time simply laughing and joking with him, wrestling him in the water. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and I was pretty darn grateful for his kisses.

But Jamie must have somehow read my thoughts, because he was pulling back and taking my hand. His eyes held a gleam of mischief.

“Will ye swim a bit wi’ me, Sassenach?” he asked.

When I nodded, he splashed into the water, and then dragged my hand down so I followed him.

I had adjusted to being on the warmth of the rock, so the moment my body submerged under the freezing water, it was a shock to my system. I cursed under my breath and began to shiver.

Jamie laughed at me, his eyes crinkling delightfully at the corners.

“Cold, lass?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“Of course I’m cold,” I chattered, “aren’t you?”

“Nae. Ye ken Scots dinna get cold, Sassenach. Come ‘ere and let me warm ye up.”

Jamie’s hands found my hips, and he pulled me through the water until I was pressed flush against his bare chest. I smiled and wrapped my arms around my neck and my legs around his waist.

He floated around for a while with me clinging to him like a koala bear, keeping his arms tightly around my shivering form as he waded further backward.

“I kent ye were naturally cold, but ye really are freezin’, puir wee thing. Ye’re shaking’ so hard ye’re makin’ my teeth rattle,” Jamie commented.

I nodded pathetically against his chest.

“Would be quite a shame if I were tae--”

All of a sudden, Jamie was dipping me backward into the water, making to throw me from him and submerge me.

But I clung to him with all my might and let out a whisper-screech, and he was forced to straighten back up, laughing. I scrambled further up his body, climbing him like a tree in an effort to stay out of the water.

“Alright, if ye’ll no’ leave me, I’ll jes hafta go wi’ ye.”

With an evil grin, Jamie bent his knees, and we both plunged under.

I pushed on his chest, breaking free of his arms and swimming backwards away from him.

“Traitor,” I hissed, “you’re supposed to be my personal heater.”

“And yer supposed tae be my girlfriend, no’ my baby koala,” he shot back.

“I’ll show you baby koala,” I laughed as I lunged toward him.

I grabbed the top of his head and made it shove it downward under the water, but I had underestimated Jamie’s strength, and he simply didn’t budge as I attempted to pull his face down.

I froze, looking at Jamie and the mischievous gleam that had returned to his eyes. I had just enough time to mutter a “crap,” before he was on me.

I had to suppress a squeal as, instead of grabbing for my head as I had expected, Jamie dove under, grabbed my ankle, and tugged me sharply downward. I gasped in air just before my mouth went under the surface. I kicked wildly in the murky water around me, hoping to catch Jamie in the rib as payback, but my feet made no satisfying connections.

My head popped back out of the water, and I saw Jamie bobbing a meter away.

He started swimming, and I pursued him all the way to where the lake grew slightly shallower and we could both touch the bottom.

Once I reached him, I shoved at him playfully, and he indulgently pretended that I was actually propelling him backward.

“Alright-- alright,” he said between laughs as I continued to push at his chest, “truce.”

I paused and eyed him warily.

“Seal it with a kiss?”

“Always,” he said as he leaned in eagerly with lips puckered invitingly.

Just before he reached me, I cupped my hands and sent a spray of water right up into his face.

Jamie sputtered at the splash, and then looked up at me, mouth agape in betrayal.

“Ye’ll pay fer that, little lassie,” he growled.

He was just about to lunge toward me when a shout of “Claire? Jamie?” came from a short distance away. We both froze and looked at each other.

“Over here!” Jamie yelled.

“Och, thank Christ. We thought ye may have drowned,” came Rupert’s answering call.

“Nae. Jes’ got distracted swimmin’ after a fish and found Claire. Come on, lass.”

I leaned in to give Jamie one last gratuitous, self indulgent kiss, and then we swam back to the group.

We had a picnic on the beach, all inhaling our sandwiches and crisps as if we hadn’t eaten in days. Then, we spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around and taking in the beautiful sight. After we had enough of lazing about, we decided to call it a day and head back. As we finished packing up, Frank appeared at my side and offered to help me on the walk back. I insisted that my ankle was much improved and declined politely, and I watched as his face fell in disappointment. From behind him, I noticed Jamie’s light up.

I walked back (by myself, thank you very much) at a brisk pace, eager to remain at the front of the group and away from Frank.

Geillis kept looking at me and gesturing toward Frank, but I just ignored her.

I was pretty worn out from a long day of playing in the water. I was drooping in fatigue in that way one does after their strength has been sapped by the cold. When we all squished together into the van, I found myself sitting next to Jamie in the back. As Dougal began the long drive back, the rumble of the van underneath me began to lull me to sleep.

I craned my head back to rest it on the seatback and frowned, knowing there would certainly be a crick in my neck by the end of the drive.

As I began to drift off, I felt a big, familiar hand gently tilt my head and guide it onto his shoulder. I smiled sleepily and nuzzled my face into Jamie’s shirt.

Best part of the trip so far.

***

Dinner was leftover spaghetti and salads because we had been too cheap to buy anything else. I still wolfed it down, and didn’t even mind the taste of the accompanying beer. We played a drinking game after dinner— Angus insisting that beer and tequila were a dessert. It was something with cards, but I was so confused by the rules and so bad at it that I was drunk within only a few rounds and had no hope of ever actually learning the game. Frank was drunk too, and he was fully pressed against my side, an arm slung casually around my waist.

I stiffened, trying to send the message that it was an unwelcome touch, but either he didn’t notice or didn’t care, because his arm remained.

Geillis shot me a million-watt smile, and said, “they’re so cute together, are they no’, Dougal?”

Dougal only made a Scottish noise in his throat before picking up his beer.

I couldn’t bear to look toward Jamie to see either his rage or his despair.

I ducked out of the game politely, saying that I was well beyond my drink limit, and then tore myself from Frank’s grip and scurried off to the bathroom.

I shuddered to myself as I looked in the mirror.

One more day, Beauchamp. Tomorrow you go home. You can do this.

I ran my fingers through my wild curls and then stepped out of the bathroom.

I was just passing the final door in the hallway and about to reenter the living room when a hand shot out and tugged me by the wrist into the dark room. I stumbled straight into Jamie’s solid chest.

“Sorry, I didna mean to scare ye, but seein’ him touchin’ ye like that drives me mad.”

His arms looped possessively around my waist, and I melted against him.

“It drives me mad, too,” I said as I was fitted perfectly into Jamie’s embrace.

He drew back and hooked a finger under my chin to tilt my face upward. He leaned down and attached his mouth to mine, kissing me like he never wanted to do anything else. His lips pressed insistently, withdrawing for a moment only to dive back in again with renewed fervor. Our kisses made soft snicking sounds in the dark room as he pressed and released.

“Jamie--” I forced out between kisses, “I-- they’re going to-- mhmmm-- notice we’re gone.”

He pulled back reluctantly, and my lips tingled with the absence of his touch.

“I suppose ye’re right. Go on then,” he said sadly with a tilt of the head.

He placed a solid (but surprising soundless) smack on my bum as I leaned in for one last quick kiss and then left the room.

The rest of the night’s entertainment went by in a flash. Frank was all over me. It was like a game of cat and mouse-- I’d evade him for a moment only to be cornered the next. I finally ended up on the floor next to Geillis, desperately linking my arm to hers in the vain hope that it might discourage Frank.

We were all seated on the floor in a circle and looking expectantly at each other in the hopes that someone might suggest something else.

A suggestion did come, but not a welcome one.

“How about we play spin the bottle?” Geillis giggled with raised brows.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Thankfully, Rupert piped up.

“Tha’s no faiiir,” he whined, “the only lasses here are ye and Claire. I dinna want tae end up kissin’ this numpty,” he jerked a beefy thumb in the direction of Angus, who was staring drunkenly down at his hand as if it was the most bizarre thing he’d ever seen.

“He has a point, Geil,” Jamie declared in support, “I dinna think we have quite the numbers tonight. It’s late, perhaps we should go tae bed.”

Geillis nodded in acquiescence.

All at the same time, we staggered to our feet, using any available object for support.

“Before we part ways, I hafta suggest a wee room trade,” Geillis said suddenly.

Everyone froze at that. We were all tired and beyond desperate for a soft bed. I noticed everyone’s eyes widening in dismay. Rupert looked ready to stomp his feet like a toddler having a tantrum.

Geillis shot him a look. “Dinna get yer panties in a twist, I didna mean you. I would like to spend the night wi’ Dougal, so how about I go tae his room and Frank goes tae Claire’s room so they can have a wee bit o’ alone time?”

Horror flooded my veins and I suddenly went still as a statue. My brain provided a very unhelpful mantra of no, no, no but produced no coherent response, or better yet, rejection to offer Geillis.

My eyes flicked helplessly to Jamie, and I found him seething with rage. His hands were clenched at his sides in tight fists of barely controlled anger.

“Alright by me,” Frank piped up from beside me.

All of a sudden, all of Jamie’s jealous fury exploded.

“That’s it!” He bellowed, and launched himself across the room.

He shoved Frank away from me so hard that the poor man went staggering backward until he plopped down on the couch. Jamie whirled to face me and grabbed me forcefully around the waist and jerked me against him.

“Claire is my girlfriend, alright? We’re dating! My heart and soul belongs to her, and I canna bear tae see this go on fer another second. She’s mine.”

The room was absolutely silent and dead still as everyone stared at me and Jamie. His declaration hung in the room for the longest moment, and the tension was so thick I thought I would have been able to feel it if I waved my hand through the air. Jamie still had me pressed against him tightly, and was looking around with narrowed eyes as if daring anyone to try to take me from him.

Finally, the silence was broken by the sound of Geillis beginning to laugh.

“Took ye long enough.”

Now it was mine and Jamie’s turn to be steamrolled by shock.

“What do you mean, ‘took you long enough’?” I asked slowly, finding my tongue to be thick and heavy in my mouth.

“I’ve been tryin’ tae get him tae do that all weekend!” she exclaimed. She had the audacity to sound exasperated.

I just stared at my friend blankly. She rolled her eyes.

“That’s what the whole “Frank thing” was about. I needed a way to force ye to fess up.”

I was still so taken aback that I couldn’t seem to find my voice. But Jamie did.

“Ye kent? About us?” He asked incredulously.

“Aye, of course I did! Ye two arena exactly discreet. Ye cannae keep yer hands tae yourselves, fer Christ’s sake! Any moment when ye think no one’s lookin’, ye’re all over each other. Plus, ye always disappear at the same time. And ye didna think we’d catch on?”

Angus chose that moment to speak up. “For the record, I didna ken a thing.”

“Shut yer mouth, ye big oaf,” Geillis hissed, “this isna about you.”

She crossed her arms and looked at us accusingly. Her sharp, squinted eyes demanded answers.

I sighed. Jamie shifted a little next to me and resettled his arm around my waist-- more comfortable and supportive and less possessive now that it had been made clear that I was off the market.

“Claire and I have been seeing each other ever since we went off to University of Edinburgh,” Jamie began to explain.

Dougal clapped his hands in triumph and elbowed Geillis. “I told ye it’d been that long.”

Jamie leveled him with a look. “Do ye wanna hear the story or no’?”

Everyone fell silent, and I picked up the narrative.

“I’m sorry we didn’t say anything sooner. You know Jamie’s parents wouldn’t approve, and neither would my Uncle, so we decided to keep things a secret while at home until we could break the news to them.”

Everyone nodded understandingly. Relief made all the tension flow from my muscles, and I leaned heavily against Jamie. Our friends just stood there staring at us for a long moment, as if sizing us up as a couple. I felt like a mannequin on display, and held Jamie a little more tightly.

“Were you terribly surprised to figure out we were together?” I found myself asking to break the silence

“Och, no, the lad’s been head over heels for ye since ye were bairns,” Dougal said with a dismissive wave.

I looked up at Jamie with a smile. “What? Is that true?”

The dusting of red making its way up his neck to his cheeks was all the answer I needed.

“Aye. I kent I was gonna marry ye the first time I laid eyes on ye the first day of primary school. It jes’ took a little while fer adult us tae catch up.”

My own cheeks burned at his words and I went up on tip-toes to place a sweet, chaste kiss on Jamie’s lips.

Hollers came from Angus and Rupert, ever the childish ones, and I pressed my smile onto Jamie’s.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. Frank hadn’t said a peep the entire time Jamie and I were explaining ourselves. With a furrowed brow, I turned behind me to where Jamie had pushed Frank onto the couch.

As I did, I was greeted by the sight of him completely passed out and slumbering peacefully on the couch.

“I guess he’ll get filled in sooner or later,” Jamie chuckled.

We turned back to the others. I felt a lightness in my chest at the transparency and was relieved that I had the freedom to spend time with Jamie as much as I pleased again.

“Well, I guess we really will have tae change rooms now,” Geillis announced, “I’ll sleep wi’ Dougal, Jamie’ll go wi’ Claire, and Frank--- weel, I guess Frank’ll sleep out here tonight.”

Jamie’s hand slipped up under my shirt to rest on my bare skin. I felt him tap his fingers against my side in eager anticipation of being together again. I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

“Sounds like a plan, goodnight everyone,” I said.

I had barely finished bidding everyone goodnight when Jamie began dragging me down the hall toward my room.

Good night indeed.

***

The next morning, after a leisurely breakfast, we took our time packing and cleaning up. Someone must have brought Frank up to speed, because now it was his turn to mope. Jamie, on the other hand, was all smiles. He clung to me like a starfish all morning, finding any excuse to touch me. He was more than happy to flaunt our relationship in front of Frank now that he had the opportunity. As I did the dishes (and Jamie was supposed to be sweeping), he came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and began to trail kisses down the side of my neck. I turned and playfully smacked a sud-covered hand on his cheek, leaving him half a soap beard. A small wrestling match occurred as Jamie tried to reach around me to grab some soap for his revenge, but it was soon broken up by a “dinna go wild now, ye two” from Dougal.

Later, as I started toward the car, ready to load my bag, Jamie caught up to me and snagged it from my hand.

“May I take this for ye, milady?” he asked cordially, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“I am capable of carryin’ a little duffle.”

“I ken that fine, my strong wee lass. Only I love ye verra much and wish to serve ye.”

“Well, if you put it like that…”

I handed him the duffle and smacked him on the bum as he started toward the door. He let out a whoop of surprise and jumped. Nothing was more satisfying.

Watching the whole exchange in the corner was Frank, his dark eyes hard with jealousy.

As Jamie disappeared outside with my bag, I felt compelled to approach the Englishman.

“Listen, I’m sorry if you felt I led you on. I really tried not to give you any signs I was interested, Geillis just kept shoving us together. I hope there’s no hard feelings that I’m with Jamie.”

I extended a hand to him and gave him my best apologetic smile. He looked from my hand up to my face, then back to my hand. Ignoring the proffered appendage, he shouldered past me and muttered “slut” under his breath. Then, he had disappeared from the room.

I stood rooted to the spot. Completely floored by his attitude, I couldn’t seem to bring myself to move.

Jamie returned to find me in that position, staring off at the hallway down which Frank had disappeared.

“Sassenach? What’s wrong?” He asked.

He moved closer and slid an arm around me as if sensing I needed support.

“Frank just showed me his true colors I guess,” I quietly said, still taken aback.

Jamie was instantly moving into my line of vision. “He didna try tae touch ye again, did he? I swear I’ll--”

I cut him off before he could go listing threats. “I tried to apologize to him and say no hard feelings...” I said quietly. I fixed my gaze on Jamie and furrowed my brows, “and he called me a slut.”

Jamie stiffened. I could see the rage flicker over his face before he composed it. He looked me in the eye for a moment, gauging whether I was okay. Finding me satisfactorily composed, he straightened up.

“I’ll kill him,” he said decidedly.

He began to stride with single minded purpose toward the bedrooms, his fists clenched at his sides, but I snapped out of my daze and caught his wrist to pull him back.

“It doesn’t matter, Jamie,” I said, “really, it doesn't. I couldn’t care less what Frank thinks. He was all over me all weekend without permission. I’m with you, darling. Let’s just forget about him. He can sulk all he wants on the way back, and then we never have to see him again.”

I tugged on Jamie's arm pleadingly and prayed that he’d see reason and abandon his task of pummeling Frank into oblivion in defense of my honor. After a long moment, he gave me a stiff nod. I relaxed, and Jamie followed suit, the angry set of his shoulders softening.

“No man should speak tae ye that way, but if ye ask me tae leave it be, I will,” he said softly.

He stooped down to kiss me lightly on the forehead.

When he pulled back, I caught his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Come on, let’s finish loading up. Maybe this time I’ll take your bag for you.”

If Jamie had been clingy before, he was insufferable the entire ride back. We ended up on the bench seat in the middle together, and he didn’t stop touching me the entire ride home. I knew he checked the rearview mirror to gauge Frank’s reaction behind us, but the man doggedly stared out the window, completely silent the entire time, refusing to look at us. The ride was much quieter as a whole-- everyone was tuckered out from the last few days. I separated myself from Jamie so that I could shift to the side, and then I laid my head down on his lap.

Ever so gently, his fingers began carding through my hair. He started up a delightful rhythm-- a press of fingertips into my scalp, a swirl, and then a gentle pull as he tugged carefully through my curls. Every once in a while, he would change it up, and take his whole hand to brush the lot of it away from my face. His touch was so tender and relaxing that I began to drift off.

I had nearly fallen asleep when I felt lips pressing to my temple.

“I love ye, Sassenach,” he whispered.

I tilted my head so I could smile sleepily up at him. “I love you, too.”

His hands cupped my cheeks, both thumbs stroking over them, and I opened my eyes wider.

He was looking down at me with a complicated look on his face-- a mix of love, affection, and something far more serious.

“What is it?” I asked, placing a hand over his where it cradled my face.

He gave me a smile. “Let’s tell my parents and your uncle when we get back, aye?”

I broke into a beam and nodded against his lap.

“Yes. Let’s tell them. I’ve had enough of this keeping secrets business to last a lifetime.”

***

THE END. But not really! Here’s the sequel The Deal

#there you have it folks #my first attempt in the romcom genre!#maybe it ended up being a bit more like a rom-dram but I still had fun #I'd love to hear your thoughts!!!#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #outlander fluff #Outlander #claire x jamie #Claire/Jamie #romcom

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bitchfitch · 3 years

Text

Death crept through the lavish halls of a rich man's home. Old cracked paint flaked beside sun faded tapestries and over well worn wood floors. The raged leather soles of of his boots softly thumping along with the creaking of old wood that accompanied his every step. He found the room easily, following the sound of a fading cough and short not quite gasping breaths that failed to draw enough air.

He ducked through the door and the dying man greeted him with age hazed eyes and a broad grin.

"Copper!" his exclamation carried joy even if his lungs couldn't support more than a creaking whisper, "Bastard, it's so good to see you again," he stopped to catch his breath, his eyes closing as he did so,

"And you as well," Copper returned the smile as he sat in the chair beside the bed, "But to be honest I'm a touch surprised, both that you can see anything through those cataracts, and that you would... Appreciate my presence,"

The rich man chuckled, "Not many people have hair that color, even fewer are as tall as you. I may not be able to see much, but I can still see that,"

"I suppose you're right," Copper huffs with a hand going to his dark red mess of a mane "Still, you must remember the terms of our deal and what my presence means for you now?"

"I do," he nods, "I'm going to die tonight, going to see Min again,"

"Min?"

"My wife," he smiles as he speaks of her even as his words become more labored, "That quill you gave me, I wrote a letter to the girl I had fallen in love with when we were young. I didn't know she couldn't read, so she had to get someone else to read it to her, but when she'd heard what I wrote she came all the way into the valley to slap me and call me an idiot," he laughs, "Told me we should've eloped when we were both still fresh, before she'd found another man to call her own,

I'd not even thought that she'd have gone on like that. It made sense, she could have, and did, do so much better than me. But luck of lucks saw that husband of hers dead not long after. I felt bad for being so happy, but I couldn't stop smiling when she and I married,

That quill- You, gave me the happiest life I could have imagined. I'm glad to pay my end of the deal now, because it means I get to see her again,"

"It's a rare treat to find someone with no regrets, thank you for your story," Copper smiles softly, genuine and warm,

"Oh, I've got regrets," the rich man say "Many, but I don't care to dwell on them, not now... or... Well, one, there's one,"

"Hmm?"

"Min and I, we had a fight right before... She was so mad at me last time I saw her. Do you think she still is?"

"I don't know, but you will have plenty of time to make it up to her soon,"

"Yeah, yeah that's true... It's close now is it?"

"Moments if I had to guess," Copper shrugs, "The clot in your lung is migrating and will soon block off blood flow to the area completely. After that happens you won't be able to get enough air and will... fall asleep, then you will suffocate over a few minutes. It won't be the most pleasant of deaths, but it won't hurt badly," he simplified things greatly, not caring for the slight inaccuracies so long as they helped keep the rich man calm and peaceful in these final moments.

"Any final requests?" Copper cocks his head,

"I think... yeah, I think I want to be alone for this. Thank you,"

"Of course. Rest well then, and may your sleep bring great growth" Copper stood from his seat, the blessing leaving him without thought as the rich man closed his eyes a smile still tugging on his old, withered face.

The door to the rich man's room shut with a light thud as Copper drifted down the halls, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. He rarely visited the dying, usually he only came to the deceased caught between their death's and their afterlives to guide them across, and this was why. He knew where the clot was, it would only take a moment and a little bit of concentration to break it up enough that the rich man's body would be able to handle it on it's own. Sure, doing so would probably only buy him a few more bed bound days, a week maybe, but healers can rarely be trusted to leave the sick and dying to the whims of nature and he was no different.

He wandered through the empty halls decorated with treasures that, do to a single deal made half a century ago, would soon be his, and found his way into a shrine room. Shelves upon shelves of precious jewls and metals, fine fabrics and sculptures filled the room. Though the alter beneath the stained glass window held only sea glass and shells that glittered from around a poorly made tapestry that depicted a stormy ocean.

The threads were too loose in some places too tight in others and there were places where it was clear the weaver ran out of one color and had attempted to dye more only for it to come out just wrong enough to be noticed. It was clearly made by inexperienced hands and now stood displayed still in it's loom in the place of honor on this shrine. Pride in its existence radiated from it and that made it stunning despite it's flaws.

Distantly, he felt the rich man die, quietly and peacefully.

One of Copper's aspects would guide him across and later while Copper slept he'd dream of the conversation that aspect and the rich man would have, and he would dream of the conversations his other, near innumerable, aspects would have, and have had, and have been having with every other human who has crossed into his domain since he last slept. Then he would wake, and forget almost everything said during those conversations as they meld together into a messy but beautiful tapestry. All the threads visible and traceable in their places but ultimately he saw it not for the individuals, but the grander thing they made together.

He picked at the stones and shells scattered on one of the shelves, his dulled claws scraping against the rough surface. He should probably go find someone to deal with the body...

The soft creaking protest of a floor board that no longer fit in it's place being tread on called from behind him. Copper turned, curious to who or what would be intruding on this moment, but he was left slack jawed with a greeting trapped behind his lips as he saw the man.

Surrounded by gold and silver and precious gems that glittered in the low moonlight that flowed through the windows, this man outshone them all. He was tall for a human, coming up to just below Copper's collar bones, with broad, strong looking shoulders. His sharp features highlighted by the silver light caressing his warm tan skin and haloed by that same light echoing through the broken strands of bleach blonde hair that fell from his neat bun to frame his narrow face.

Light agitation turned to wonder and awesrrucked silence as Copper struggled for a second to find words, but once again those words died when he met the man's eyes, they were probably a deep brown but the low light turned them onyx. His gaze was sturdy, not cold or calculating, not bored. Determined but practiced.

The strange, beutiful, human man wore the expression of a butcher or a slaughterer, he did not draw perverse pleasure or joy from what came next. He was so obviously merely doing a job as he moved faster than Copper's confusion addled mind could react to that that alone struck more fear into Copper's core than if the man were hissing and snapping with rage.

The ice hot cut of an iron blade dug past the flesh between his ribs and into his chest even as he recoiled. On pure instinct he growled an awful rumbling sound that made the butcher- the hunter, flinch as Copper managed to stumble away, nearly falling to one knee as his own lung struggled to inflate. He could feel his magic burning along the wound as it tried, and failed to pull it closed. His hand going to his bloodied side in a vain attempt of staunching the flow.

The hunter advanced, cautious and silent, his blade, slicked with Copper's own viscous black blood, raised as he followed the retreating god.

Copper hissed as his back collided with a shelf, cornered he pulled his attentions together just enough to attempt to teleport away, only to feel his magic jolt painfully within him as it failed completely.

The hunter advanced, already readying another swing.

In that moment Copper forced himself to focus on the warm summer night air, on the flickering candles and the heat of the hunter's body, most seals could be overpowered, he just needs to rush it hard enough.

Heat leaves the room, the hunter stumbles with a pained gasp as the heat leaves him too. Copper doesn't see if the hunter falls because the seal gives as he uses all of that stolen energy to burst against it.

He drops to his knees on the cold stone floor of the cave he calls home. His blood singing through magic seared veins, his hands shaking as he braces one against the floor below him as his world swims, both from blood loss and the disorientation that always came with pushing his power that hard,

He struggles with his wound, gasping with effort as his magic finally starts working again. The wound tieing itself closed beneath his palm, a thick black scar forming as he comes down from the mountain top high of fearing for his life for the very first time since before the advent of this universe.

Copper slumps against the water-carved wall of his home, his head falling back against it with a deep buzz running beneath his skin, and he Laughs, deep and hearty and Alive in a way he has not felt in centuries.

#tbh i dont have a name for this project #like the old one was super cringey and just straight up doesn't fit anymore #im taking suggestions znsnsnsssn #and also i will probably be boosting this again later when more people are awake #im proud of it :)

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tellmealovestory · 4 years

Text

That Summer (1/?)

Summary: You’ve spent every summer since you were a child in the idyllic beach town you call home three months out of the year. This summer should be no different except for the addition of Bucky Barnes. Sparks fly upon first meeting, but it’s only a summer fling, right? Modern AU.

Notes: Also posted on my ao3. The beautiful divider I used is from @whimsicalrogers

Warnings: Surprisingly no swear words and a very brief mention of sexy times.

Mosquitos battled with the scratchy blanket beneath your body in a fight over who could do more damage to your sensitive skin. So far it was a tie. Music drifted out of your car speakers, a bouncy pop song, something meant for being blared at top decibels in a darkened club, sweaty bodies moving together, colorful drinks filled to the brim of expensive glasses. Not something for laying in a field an hour outside of the city stargazing.

It was a warm night, a promise of what was to come as summer began its lazy descent. Summer. Just the word always conjured long days, lazy nights, uniforms of shorts and tank tops, bare feet. Frozen slushees from the local convenience store staining lips and teeth and tongues blues and reds and purples, bags of potato chips and handfuls of candy bars. Windows rolled down, music turned all the way up, singing off key to lyrics that seemed as if they were written for you and only you as you drove aimlessly through the city before venturing onto the back roads that would take you far from the bright lights and the familiarity of your life to somewhere else.

The crinkle of a candy wrapper being balled up, the obnoxious slurp of a straw searching for the last remnants of a cherry slushee mixed with vodka had your teeth grinding in annoyance at your sometimes friend sprawled out next to you on the blanket.

“This is your last night here and this is how you choose to spend it?”

You didn’t have to take your eyes off of the stars shining and twinkling above you, winking like they held secrets, like they knew what the future, more specifically what this summer would hold for you to know she was rolling her eyes at you.

And while you tried to tell yourself you didn’t care her tone still stung.

“You didn’t have to come,” you pointed out, leaving out the part about how she only came because her sometimes boyfriend ditched her again. “And it’s not like I’m not coming back. It’s only for the summer, remember?”

“Whatever. Have fun with your summer friends,” she sneered, tone icy, piercing straight through the warmth in your chest.

It was harder this time to hide the physical way her words stung. Flinching you inched away from her on the blanket. You weren’t a mean person, but you still thought about getting in your car and abandoning her here.

Ignoring her huffed sighs, the slurp of the straw, the way she boldly reached across you grabbing your plastic cup still half full with the blue raspberry slushee you kept your gaze focused on the sky above you.

A bright streak danced across the sky, so quick if you had blinked one second sooner, if you had turned your head away from the sky you would have missed it. Your heart sped up at the sight, awe and doubt mixing in your mind. Blindly grabbing for your friends arm you excitedly pointed at the sky, blabbering about the shooting star.

Obsessed since you had learned about them in school books had been consumed, online articles inhaled, paintings painted, stories written, but you had never expected to see one.

In the blink of an eye it was gone and you were left wondering if you had seen its beauty at all.

Closing your eyes you inhaled damp grass, the alcohol infused breath of your sometimes friend, the sugary sweet slushees, the salty potato chips that swirled around you and made a wish on the brightly burning shooting star that had streaked across the sky for that one glorious brief moment.

I wish to fall in love this summer.

“You’re not mad are you?”

Your eyes were glued to the scenery that shot past your windows. The large mansions that sat dotted on the beach before giving way to gift shops and tourists traps. The ocean that glittered and shined when the bright sun hit it. The sand that had you itching to beg Wanda to pull the car over so you could run through the burning heat before dipping your feet into the still cold ocean water. Tires hummed on the road, salty ocean air inhaled, wind rustling against your hair and ruffling your shirt.

After stepping off the plane, smile on your face, sweat soaking through your shirt at the heat that hit you as soon as you had stepped out of the air conditioned terminal you had run straight into your best friends arms squealing like preteen girls at a boy band concert.

The conversation had flowed easily with her pointing out the new shops, restaurants, the gossip you had missed out on when you had left at the end of last summer. It wasn’t until the conversation had drifted to the evenings plans that it began to stall.

Your first night back had always been a girls night with take out food, homemade desserts you had brought with you, bottles of soda when you were younger that turned into shared bottles of wine, trashy television shows as you caught up with each other’s lives in person instead of over texts and skype.

This year however plans had changed.

“I’m not mad.” It was hard to be mad when you would be spending the next three months in paradise, but you were disappointed.

You had always looked forward to the first night together to unwind, to catch up, but now you were going to be spending it with their friends feeling like the awkward out of towner struggling to keep up with their inside jokes, their familiar banter.

Tearing your gaze away from the scenery you turned your attention to Wanda offering her a small smile. It was only one night.

“It’ll be fun!” Wanda chirped.

Showered, fresh faced, damp haired, bags piled high on your bed in Wanda’s spare room a quick girls night had commenced with Natasha. Gossiping over chips and dip the three of you had made plans for the summer before piling into the car heading to the party.

Christmas lights were strung throughout the house and on the back porch leading the place to have a whimsical feel. When they had told you a party you had been expecting wall to wall people, red solo cups, couples making out, drunk people stumbling and laughing.

What greeted you instead were motorcycles parked in the driveway, along the tree lined streets. Loud music spilled from the peach two story house. A few people stood outside, bottles of beer held between fingers, thumbs furiously scrolling through phones, leather jackets adorning shoulders despite the oppressive heat.

Everybody seemed to know who Natasha and Wanda were. It was impossible to take two steps without someone coming up to say hey. Introductions were made, but the more people you met the more the names and faces blurred together.

Ending up in the kitchen leaning against the counter, a bottle of warm beer pressed into your hand your eyes swept over the small crowd that clustered around the keg. More leather jackets placed on shoulders, animated conversations swirling around you, cigarette tips burning bright orange, smoke exhaled leading the kitchen to be filled with a hazy fog that made your head ache with fatigue.

Weight shifting from foot to foot, beer bottle sweating with condensation in your hand, strangers nodding in your direction in lieu of hellos. You were used to standing on the sidelines, watching everything and everybody with a keen eye, but it didn’t make it any less lonely.

Pushing through the scattered bodies of the kitchen you slid open the patio door inhaling the pine trees that surrounded the back yard, the salty ocean air that could be faintly smelled in the distance. The night air was muggy, the sky dark, the stars twinkling and as you stumbled to the railing you closed your eyes willing the fresh air and the stars to ease your loneliness.

“Careful there.”

Your body froze at the husky voice that dared to break your peaceful solitude. Shoulders tensed you exhaled, slowly opening your eyes to see a tall man, dark hair pulled into a man bun, cigarette dangling from kissable lips. He was beautiful standing there in the glow of the Christmas lights that were strung along the railing.

Convinced he was talking to someone else you turned your head, gaze inspecting the patio, the yard, but it was just you and the dark haired stranger.

A long drag off the cigarette, a quirk of an eyebrow and he was speaking again, voice low and gravelly. “You good?”

“Uh yup, yeah, great, thanks,” you rambled, loosening your hold on the railing. Worried that he’d think you were drunk you whirled around to face him, watching the way his beefy body leaned against the porch railing a few feet away from you. Caring what people thought about you, trying too hard to make everyone happy around you were were faults you had yet to overcome. It didn’t matter that you didn’t know him you still found yourself, to your horror, blurting out, “I’m not drunk!”

Exhaling a stream of smoke he stubbed out his cigarette. “Never thought you were.” His lips tilted upwards, a ghost of a smile on his face, a wisp of hair falling from his bun and framing his face.

“Right,” you said slowly. Shifting your weight from foot to foot you cleared your throat determined to start over on a better note. “I just... my friends left me alone for a couple minutes and I guess I sort of panicked and needed some fresh air and I didn’t know you were out here and... you’re laughing.”

It was rich, the kind of laugh a person could fall in love with. Throaty and hoarse like he had used his voice up on talking all day though you suspected it had more to do with the cigarettes. So far he appeared to be a man of few words.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

The only thing better than his laugh was the way he stepped closer, the floorboards of the porch creaking beneath his clunky black boots as he closed the gap of space between your bodies.

Up close he was even more striking. Sculpted jaw, cheeks painted the lightest shade of pink that reminded you of spring roses, eyes so bright they rivaled the color of the ocean. Tight black tee shirt that you hinted at the built body beneath it, black leather jacket that matched the other ones inside of the house. Blue jeans that you somehow knew hid a perfect ass.

It was impossible to take your eyes off of him, but the feeling appeared mutual as his eyes lingered on your hair, your makeup free face, the thin strapped summer dress you had thrown on with a pair of sandals.

Had it been any other man standing before you, stare lingering you would have felt self-conscious, would have crossed your arms over your chest and cleared your throat before politely making an excuse and scurrying away.

It was reckless and dangerous. You didn’t know him, but instead of being put off by his staring you felt strangely... okay with it. You didn’t know him, had never seen him during any of your previous summer visits, but there was something familiar about him tugging at your heartstrings as if you already knew him, as if you guys had known each other your whole lives. It was a feeling you had never experienced before. You didn’t even know his name, but you couldn’t help feeling that this man was somehow going to be important to you.

Maybe it was jet lag, too much cigarette smoke, thrown off your usual first day rituals, but being in his presence made you feel alive, made you feel like you could truly be yourself. You didn’t have to be the perky, can fix anything, people pleaser that made you a such a good fit working at your moms wedding planner company. And you didn’t have to be the awkward fly on the wall third or fifth wheel when out with your friends. You felt like you could be yourself, whoever that was and it was freeing.

Inhaling the muggy night air you met his gaze. It was electric, inviting and you found yourself wanting to plop down on a lawn chair and spill to him all your secrets.

“Can we start over? I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky.”

Cheers erupted from inside the kitchen, but neither of you turned to look. In a matter of minutes the party was forgotten and you were fine with that.

“You new in town?”

“It’s that obvious?”

There it was, that smirk again, gentle lift of his shoulder in a shrug, another piece of hair escaping his man bun. In a way you supposed it was obvious. It seemed as if everyone at the party were wearing leather jackets with the words Howling Commandos stitched on the back and everyone had known who Natasha and Wanda were.

“Small town,” he said. “I know most of the people here, but you I don’t know.”

“Not true. I introduced myself before,” you quipped, feeling a sense of pride when he let out another throaty laugh. “Are you the welcoming committee in town? Cause if you are I gotta say you’re not doing too good of a job hiding out here.”

His laughter filled the porch and in that instant you knew you’d do anything to hear it again and again. It was so warm like feeling the sun on your bare skin the first time after the end of a long winter.

“Maybe I was monitoring the situation out here. Gotta make sure no one comes barreling out and runs into the railing. Don’t want anyone getting hurt on my watch.” His eyes drank you in slowly, a smile cracking through his smirk waiting to see your reaction.

Biting back a laugh you shook your head at the banter feeling both out of your element, but somehow so at ease. “I’d say you need a little more work.”

“You do, huh? I dunno I thought my methods worked. Got you to stop didn’t it?”

“Total fluke.”

“You sure about that, Y/N?”

The way he said your name had your heart beating straight out of your chest. He said it slowly, letting it roll across his tongue, confidently as if he was used to chatting up girls, making them feel special for a night or two. His hand moved to the railing, his pinky finger nudging yours. It was a light touch, barely a touch at that, but the electric sparks it was emitting had you itching to grab him by the collar of his leather jacket and kiss him.

Consumed by the way his barely there touch had you feeling you didn’t notice at first the way he had stepped closer, close enough that you could smell the smoke from his earlier cigarette, the beer that he must have been drinking mixed with something woodsier. Your favorite scent had always been coconut, but now... now it was whatever was wafting off of him.

“So you know why I was out here, but why are you out here?” You asked softly, not wanting to speak too loudly and break the spell. Your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and back. His gaze followed suit.

“Told you why I was out here,” he murmured, voice just as low, fingers ghosting over your hand, circling your wrist.

Your eyes darted down to watch the way his long fingers danced over your bracelet. Resisting the urge to close your eyes at the relaxing touches you flinched when the patio door slid open, loud music spilling out, louder voices shouting in the distance, a drunken couple stumbling out the doors, lips attached, hands roaming.

“That’s why I’m out here,” he grumbled.

His words could have been referring to anything, but when his head turned to stare disdainfully at the couple tearing each other’s clothes off oblivious to their surroundings you murmured an ah understanding.

“Should we...?” You asked, words trailing off when the woman let out an embarrassingly loud moan that rivaled that of a pornstars.

“C’mon.” His large fingers circled your wrist giving it a gentle tug.

You didn’t know him, but that didn’t stop you from following his lead as he led you down the patio steps and around the house to the front yard. The grass was cool when it rubbed against your ankles, laughter and bottles mixing and clinking together could be heard drifting from the open windows. The moon was only a crescent, but it somehow seemed to shine brighter out here than it did back home.

The front of the house was empty, but the line of motorcycles still lingered. Leading you to the front porch steps he sat down, gesturing for you to do the same.

“I’m disappointed, Bucky.” Turning your head to the side you caught a flicker of that beautiful smile that laced his lips and your only hope was that with your next set of words you could coax out another hearty laugh.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“As head of the welcoming committee in town you really should have welcomed them instead of running away.”

Bursting into laughter at the groan he let loose you nudged his shoulder trying hard to settle the way your heart sped up at the contact.

“Stick around long enough and you’ll be seeing more of them than you ever wanted to.”

“I feel like there’s a story behind that.”

“Maybe I’ll tell it to you sometime.”

“Maybe I’d like that.”

A motorcycle roared to life before racing off down the street. A group of guys carrying cases of beers stepped around you and Bucky entering the house, their raucous and drunken laughter filling your ears. The moon subtly shifted its position in the sky. But through it all, the distractions that flitted around you urging your attention elsewhere your focus never left each other’s eyes as if you were magnets drawn to each other and in a way you supposed that was true.

“Bucky!”

The voice was impatient as if they had been trying to grab his attention for awhile now. The spell you had fallen under was broken. A muttered curse word under his breath, a thin line of his lips, his head tilting to the side glaring at the man who had interrupted him, another piece of hair slipping from his bun.

For a minute no words were spoken and you felt caught in the middle, torn between ushering him towards the man calling his name and staying out of it.

“When you get done making googly eyes at your girl over there we could use your help in here, man.”

Staring down at your lap you tried to hide your smile at the way he had referred to you as his girl. You barely knew Bucky, certainly didn’t know his friend, but that didn’t stop the pattering of your heart or stretched smile.

“Sounds serious,” you commented, eyes lifting up to his.

“Probably a fight,” he muttered. Running a hand through his hair he heaved a sigh. The reluctance to leave was written across his face and you were pleased that the feeling was mutual.

“You should go. You know make sure nobody’s barreled through the railing out back,” you teased. The last thing you wanted was for him to leave, but it was the right thing to do. Even so that didn’t stop the stinging in your chest or the worries that this would be it, the first and the last time you saw him.

Standing up he exhaled a slow stream of breath. “Yeah,” he murmured lowly, more to himself than to you as if he had to talk himself into leaving.

Still, he didn’t make a move to leave. It was only when that impatient voice yelled for him again did Bucky yell back that he was coming.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?”

It wasn’t what you had been hoping for. You had hoped he’d ask for you number, maybe ask if he could see you again. Swallowing your disappointment you painted a smile on your face.

“It’s a small town, right?” You called out to him.

His smile was bright, lighting up the front porch steps. His laugh was rich, sending your heart racing. And when you turned around to get a final look at him your heart almost burst out of your chest when you saw him watching you too before he disappeared into the house.

“Wow,” Natasha smirked, arm looped through Wanda’s they strolled down the front steps coming to a stop where Bucky had been only moments before. “For someone who wasn’t excited about the party looks like you were enjoying yourself quite a bit.”

Keeping quiet for a second you struggled to gather your thoughts as Wanda looped her arm through yours and you began an unsteady walk back to the car. Choosing your words carefully you said, “It was... better than I expected it was going to be.”

Most of your experience with parties involved attending wedding receptions and those weren’t for enjoyment, those were part of your job working quickly to settle feuding family members, making sure to hand out coffee to the people toeing the line of tipsiness and embarrassingly drunk. In high school you had only ever gone to a couple parties too worried about your classmates would think of you to ever truly let loose.

“You should have given him your phone number,” Wanda said. Unlocking the car and unlocking your arms you slid into the backseat your head resting against the headrest, your fingers pushing the button that lowered the window.

“All done.” Natasha’s smirk was wide as she stared at you in the rear view mirror before starting the car.

“Natasha!” You yelped. “You can’t just give guys my number and don’t you think if he wanted it he would have asked?”

The radio blared to life as the car started, a semi familiar song blasting from the speakers, tires thrummed on the road, the mugginess of the night rushing in through the open windows.

Wanda reached forward to turn the volume down, but Natasha swatted her hand away. Their laughter mixed with the pumping bass flowed to the back seat where you smiled softly at them though they couldn’t see you.

“He was going to. I’m sure of it,” Wanda said. Twisting in her seat to face you her expression was open, tone confident and despite your own doubts about his intentions or lack there of you believed her.

Closing your eyes you let the music wash over you, your mind replaying the nights events over and over again.

Tags;

@nacho-bucky

@redhairedfeistynerd

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #my writing

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bisexualklausmikaelson · 3 years

Text

maybe you were the ocean, when i was just a stone (6/?)

a/n: I can't believe I'm revamping this fic but I'm revamping this fic - it will be uploaded on ao3 as well, I will not be updating it on ffn.

xvi: we could open windows -

Klaus isn't one for love triangles - he's not even one for love.

He's counted less than a handful of times where he has allowed himself to feel close enough to someone outside of his siblings to even call it that.

At most, this was just an infatuation of sorts, it must be.

Because he just couldn't fathom liking the same girl as his younger brother.

"Nik," Kol releases, as soon as he sees him. "Where have you been?" He wonders, realizing how he hadn't seen his brother for quite a few hours.

Klaus stammers, being uncomfortable with the memory of his biological father and his offer to stay with him. "I had a few errands to run," he nervously says.

Errands? Kol thinks, unable to remember the last time Klaus had been this responsible about his chores.

He observes them both carefully - how well Kol is dressed and how pretty Hayley's dress is. "I take it you both just came back from dinner with mother and father," Klaus concludes.

Kol and Hayley share a look, feeling a bit awkward about the whole situation.

"Yes," Kol nods. "I was just about to ask Hayley how she was feeling about everything," he says, shyly.

Klaus places a finger on his chin, pondering. "That's strangely considerate of you," he realizes just how much his brother is changing in the short amount of time that he's known Hayley.

It's unexpected, but he feels a smidge of jealousy.

"Hayley," Kol goes on, interrupting Klaus' thoughts. The girl looks at him while playing with a strand of her hair. "Did our parents say or do anything to make you uncomfortable?" he asks.

She thinks back to Esther's kindness, how close she felt to her just in the short time she had known her. Hayley shakes her head.

"Really?" Klaus notes, wide-eyed. "That's...surprising," he sighs, turning to his younger brother.

Kol senses an even bigger change, one deep inside himself. "Perhaps," he shrugs. "They've actually taken a liking to her?" he wonders, meeting Klaus' gaze.

The other brother focuses his vision on Hayley - how close she stands next to Kol, how comfortable she seems around him. "Maybe so," Klaus notes. "I suppose stranger things have happened," he softly says, thinking of how easily these two seem to fit together.

And how quickly their charade seemed to have become reality.

The beach calls her name - like a love song.

Hayley is restless that night, rolling around in her bed, staring at the ceiling, sweating.

Being human is still strange - it's nice not being alone or exiled by her own kind, being accepted by a lively family, having siblings - sort of anyway. But it's still all so new.

"You're awake," Henrik pops out from under her bed and scares her.

She was so busy being stressed out by her thoughts, she didn't even notice him sneaking in.

"What's wrong? Have a nightmare?" Henrik asks again, as Hayley offers him a nod of the head. He hops into bed with her, looking a little sad. "I have trouble sleeping too, bad dreams are all too common in this house, I'm afraid," he sounds so broken, all of a sudden.

Hayley knows the Mikaelson household is a lot colder than people think - despite their riches, their fame, how close the siblings seem to be, there is still so much loneliness in everyone's eyes.

She appreciates how easily Henrik bonds with her though - she's never had a younger sibling before, though she's always wanted one.

"Henrik," Cami bursts through the open door. "There you are, why are you out of bed?" she sings, joining the two.

Hayley motions for Cami to hop in but patting her hand on the sheets. She slips in beside Henrik, wrapping an arm around him.

"Cami," he whispers, "I didn't know you were still here," he adds.

"Rebekah asked me to spend the night - I'm just staying in her room," she continues. "I came out because I heard all the ruckus this little one was making," she smiles, teasing Henrik.

Hayley appreciates both their warmth - it can be quite scary sleeping in this big room, all by herself.

"I've always found this house so eerily quiet at night, you know?" Cami suddenly says.

Henrik looks at Hayley who also looks a bit scared. "We agree," he grins.

And that's the thing about the Mikaelson mansion, from the outside, it looks like this perfect palace - and once you're inside, you realize it's just feels so haunting.

(The three of them hold hands, walking together towards the balcony. They sit there for a bit, just looking out towards the beach.

"The water looks so calm tonight," Henrik comments.

"It's so strange isn't it?" Cami tells them. "Just the other day, it was raging on like a storm, now it's like a summer sea," she realizes.

Hayley looks there too, remembers her old home - the deep blue ocean, the fishes, the coral and seaweed.

Sometimes, she feels like it never really existed.

"I wonder what it's like," Henrik quips. "Way out there," he exhales, thinking more and more about the vast waters before them.

"I do too," Cami agrees - noticing how disconnected Hayley seems.

Almost as if she's been there before).

xvii: fix the fridge light and replace the phone

The sun invades Rebekah's room like an invited guest.

She finds a note on her bed, carefully written.

Such pretty hand-writing, she knows it's Cami's - so delicate and careful. Somehow, it almost makes her angrier about her early departure.

The fact that it's just so beautiful.

(Hey Rebekah, I know I know - you hate me right now but, before you send me an angry text I'll never get, just hear me out. I left something for you under your pillow, it's something I brought back from my last research trip, I hope you think of me when you wear it.

Rebekah holds back her tongue - she knows how important Cami's research is and how much value it has.

She shoves her hand under her pillow and finds a gorgeous piece of seaglass strung across a chain. It's green mixed with a bit of yellow - like Cami's eyes).

"Sister," Klaus walks in to her room with a shiny tray of freshly made pancakes, syrup, whip cream, strawberries and a warm cup of coffee. "I've brought you breakfast," he says, taking weird looks around her room.

Rebekah raises a brow as she takes the hot drink in hand. "What brings about such kindness, dear brother?" she laments.

Klaus keeps avoiding her eyes. "Can't you just thank me?" he offers.

She notices how disappointed he looks and connect the dots quite easily. This food wasn't intentionally made for her, after all. "If you're looking for Hayley," she concludes. "She woke up quite early and already had breakfast with Henrik and Kol," Rebekah tells him, recalling hearing their voices while she was half asleep, shortly after Cami had already left.

"Kol? Waking up early?" Klaus retorts. "I never thought I'd see the day," he huffs, with his hands on his hips.

His sister smiles as she starts digging in to the pancakes. "He's a changed man," she comments."Hmm, these pancakes are to die for, Nik!" She cheers, smiling.

Klaus feels that tinge of jealousy he felt earlier suddenly grow bigger. "Glad you like them," he quietly says, attempting to hide his real emotions.

Kol spends more and more time with Hayley.

He doesn't like to think that he's gotten close to her or that, somehow, she gets under his skin - it's just that, he needs to make this whole she's his girlfriend act convincing, you know? Whether that means having meals together, standing a bit closer to her than he usually does, even maybe looking deep into her eyes -

The truth is, he just really likes being around her.

She waves to Henrik as he runs off to play with some other kids he spots by the beach.

"He's very fond of you," Kol observes. "My little brother, I mean, he's usually quite shy around anyone but our family. I suppose you're part of ours now," he babbles on and he almost bites his tongue.

God, what the hell was he saying right now? He sounded like a fool - calling her his family, really? He's only known her for a little over a month!

What was wrong with him?

"Would you like to go for a swim with me?" Kol requests instead, trying to change the subject and how flustered he felt at the moment.

She offers him a bright smile, running head first into the water.

He feels a continuing flutter in his heart as he watches her shiver from the coldness of the water. Right, it was November after all - maybe not the best time for a swim but, she almost seemed like she was weirdly used to it.

Hayley warms up quickly and swishes around the water almost as if it's part of her.

"You're quite the talented swimmer, my darling," Kol compliments, joining her.

The water pushes them closer and closer to each other and his hand instinctively grazes against her cheek - her hair is wet and covering her eyes but, she can see just enough to understand that he's going for it.

He wants to kiss her.

"KOLLLL!!!"

Just then, they hear Henrik's scream.

He's afraid of water, Kol whispers, as he and Hayley swim towards him. "I'm such an idiot," he curses himself, swimming quicker. "I should've kept a better eye on him," he shouts, seeing the top of his brother's head peeking out of the waves.

Hayley swims faster than him, getting to Henrik first and lifting him up from his waist. She gives him a look, indicating that he was safe now, she was here, after all.

"Henrik!" Kol scolds, when he catches up to them. "What were you thinking? You know you could've drowned!" he shakes him back and forth, worriedly.

Hayley takes him back to the shore, covering him in a dry towel.

"I'm sorry brother," Henrik replies to Kol. "I just thought I could finally face my fear, ever since the incident that happened to Nik I -"

Kol furrows his brow - he remembers that day too, when Klaus almost drowned to death, how he was saved by some miracle. Or a mermaid, which is what Henrik claims.

He hates how his little brother still blames himself for that incident.

"Do you know how much you scared me?" Kol responds, still with a stressed out tone. Hayley is taken aback, she's never seen Kol like this. "Promise me you'll never go to the water alone, ever again?" He tells him

"But Kol -"

"Promise me!"

Henrik bites his lip, he looks at Hayley who also seemed worried about his well-being. "I-" he starts. "I promise," he finally agrees as a sense of relief washes over Kol's face.

Hayley is touched by how close both the youngest Mikaelson brothers seem to be.

xviii: maybe it will fix us if we spend our lives on country roads

Klaus' balcony is filled with his old paintings. He barely uses the space there for anything else but, it does offer him a good view of the beach. He pushes the painting aside, making his way towards the edge. He notices Hayley, Kol and Henrik right away. He keeps an eye on them.

He shouldn't feel this way, he shouldn't be so angry at the fact that they're friends. At the fact that their parents accept them.

At the fact that Mikael would never scold Kol for having a girl but Klaus, he's not even allowed to smile around him.

He feels frightened - Mikael's abuse scares him. He thinks of their fight, of the scar on his cheek, where Hayley had last touched him.

Mikael had mentioned how the scar had disappeared, he wonders how it happened so quickly.

Then.

Klaus' ringtone interrupts his thoughts.

Ansel.

He thinks about his offer once again.

Is leaving truly the best option for him? His family was his everything, he can't imagine living without Elijah's laugh, or Finn's smile, Kol's shenanigans, Rebekah's kindness, Henrik's clinginess, and now, Hayley's warmth -

He puts the idea to rest for now.

He goes back to staring at the beach.

#klayley #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall #to #tvd #kol mikaelson #koley #munea writes

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siancore · 4 years

Text

My Captain America Part 1 - {Dark!Sam Wilson x Female Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Everyone said it, whispered it in hushed tones when they thought he was not listening: Sam Wilson was a changed man. You could not know either way how drastically, having just met the new Captain America, but you were about to find out in the most deviously delightful way.

Words: 3,006

Tags: @scotchandwhitelies @lesbians-love-samwilson @thatdamndonjulio

Content: Dubcon; language; unprotected sex; rough sex; masturbation; power play; light bondage; blink and you’ll miss it military kink.

Samuel Thomas Wilson. Captain America. He is a real hero and you don’t need to be told twice. The news outlets have been singing his praises around the clock; your social media timeline has been focused on him almost perpetually since he took up the mantle. He is a hero and you need no further convincing. After all, he did save you.

He is sitting next to you at the conference room table and flashing his blinding smile at the journalist who is just about to finish the interview with you both. It was all very professional and straightforward: They asked questions about the night you were abducted and then saved by Captain America. You talk about how you felt scared. About how you felt helpless. You answer as best you can, but he does most of the talking. The journalist is more interested in what he has to say, anyway.

You just sit there, wringing your hands together nervously and trying to keep yourself calm. He notices your anxiousness during the last part of the questioning, and places a firm, steady hand to you shaking leg. You freeze and cease the bouncing of your knee. Your skin burns as he snakes his palm a little higher until it finds its way under the hem of your skirt. You’re shocked by the gesture, but he’s Captain America and he saved you, if he wants to touch you, then who are you to say he can’t?

Everyone said it, whispered it in hushed tones when they thought he was not listening: Sam Wilson had changed. He had come back different. At first, he was quiet and sullen. That was understandable. No one really knows what happened to the people who had disappeared during the Blip. No one knows if they were dead or suspended or being constantly tortured. It was not something you were very comfortable in asking people you had known well, so there was no way in hell you were going to ask Captain America about it. About his experiences while he was gone.

You didn’t really know what to say to him in the first place, and after everyone had left the two of you alone, you were excited but still slightly nervous. The media coverage did not do him justice. He was even more gorgeous up close and in the flesh. You remember that time you did an internet search for ‘Sam Wilson before he was an Avenger’ and seeing him in his USAF uniform did something for you. You remember fingering yourself in the dark as Sam Wilson’s face lit up your phone screen.

You’ve got yourself a little crush, but that is all it is: A crush. A crush that has you nervous all day. Yet, there is something there between the two of you. A subtle tension that has you hyper aware of his proximity. It has you noticing how he leans in close to you; how he takes liberties with touching you. How it feels as if the slight tension is indeed sexual. How his scent makes you want to moan out loud; how his voice has set a steady throbbing between your legs; how you swear it looks as if he has an erection straining against his pants.

Maybe you’re projecting. Maybe your attraction to the man, the celebrity, the hero is clouding your judgement. Maybe he is just being nice and you are the one whose body is responding in ways it shouldn’t. You should be respectful, not stealing glances at his crotch whenever you can and trying to picture what he’s working with.

He is always respectful in the presence of others, but there is something behind his eyes. People who knew him would often remark that the warmth that used to be there is gone. Yet it isn’t that his gaze is now cold, but quite the opposite: It looks like flames are burning behind the pretty brown irises framed by long lashes. You can’t deny he is an attractive man. You know you are lucky that he came to your rescue; you know you are lucky to be with him now in the small conference room.

After he is done bidding the journalist and cameraperson goodbye, he locks the door and turns to cast his gaze at you.

“You did well,” he says, his voice is smooth and rich; that throbbing grows stronger and you feel as if you just might melt.

He presses a button on the wall and the blinds of the large windows close automatically.

“Thank you,” you offer in a coy manner.

The first time he looks directly into your eyes, you feel as if your knees are about to give out. When he trails his gaze over your form and smiles at you, you swear you’ve ruined your panties.

“That was kind of exciting,” you say you with a smile.

“Did you like the attention?”

He says it and then offers you a crooked grin before licking his lip.

“Nah, I mean, I’m not the hero here. It’s all you. You deserve all the attention and thanks.”

“Hmm,” he replies, as he makes his way over to the small couch and sits down. “You done thanking me for saving you?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be done.”

“You’re that grateful, uh?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He smirks and then says, “Well, why don’t you come over here and show me just how grateful you are?”

“What do you mean?” you ask, and you sound kind of naïve to your own ears.

Sam rubs himself through the fabric of his pants while keeping his eyes on you. Your heart almost ceases beating in your chest.

“You always play dumb, eh?”

“I’m, I don’t – I’m not play anything,” you stammer as your gaze dips to where he keeps rubbing at his growing erection. Your heart threatens to jump from your chest. Is this really happening? It can’t be. Sam Wilson would never do this, would he?

“Are you acting shy or are you really this naïve?”

“I don’t know. I just. I’m just. I mean, damn. You’re touching yourself, Cap.”

“No shit,” he says with a laugh. “You know what I want, don’t you? You know what I need as a thank you for saving you, don’t you?”

“Yes. I mean, I think so.”

“Well, give it to me, pretty girl,” he says while holding your gaze. “Give me what I want.”

“I — I’m not sure I should —”

“You should. You fuckin’ owe me. I saved your life. The least you could do is play with my dick for a little while.”

He undoes his zipper and draws his pants down slightly. Soon, he reaches inside of his boxers. You watch as he frees his hardness and it springs forward, standing firm and defiant. He runs his hand up and down his length while you stand there with your mouth agape salivating at the sight of his big, hard dick. It is long and thick, a shade darker than the rest of him, with a smooth, pink tip. It’s almost as pretty as he is.

He jerks himself slowly as you take in the display before you. You are frozen in place, but you can’t take your eyes off of him. Captain America unashamedly stroking his cock. He thumbs his slit and spreads the wetness over his tip, causing it to glisten before working his hand up and down his shaft once more.

“You’re grateful that I saved you?” he asks again, his voice is deep with arousal.

“Yes, Sir,” you reply, your eyes darting from his hooded gaze to where he’s strumming his impossibly hard cock.

“Why don’t you come over here and show your Captain how grateful you are?”

You hesitate a moment before willing yourself to move toward him. He smiles at you and leans back as he thrusts his hips upwards and pumps into his own hand.

You can see the precum dripping from his crown. You lick your lips instinctively.

“Why don’t you come a little closer, pretty baby.”

You move forward until you are standing right in front of him. He glances up a you while he continues to work his hand over his shaft. He places his free hand firmly to your bare thigh. You don’t stop him. How could you? He’s Captain America. He saved you. You need to repay him. He should get to have you however he likes, shouldn’t he?

“You see how hard this dick is for you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“How does it make you feel knowing Captain America’s dick is so hard for you?”

“I feel good.”

“Where?”

“All over?”

“If that pussy wet?”

His words cause a shiver to snake through you.

“Yes, Sir.”

“How wet?”

“If – if I didn’t have panties on it would be running down my legs, Cap.”

“Fuck,” he moans as he strums his dick harder. “Show me, baby.”

You bite your lip and then slowly lift the hem of your skirt.

“Turn around,” he orders, and you do so. You feel both of his hands on your hips a moment. Soon, one is snaking between your legs and the other is running up your spine.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he commands, and you do so; you feel his strong grip on your wrists as his large hands easily engulf you.

He then pushes you forward while holding you by the arms and using his free hand to part your thighs.

“Spread those legs and let me see,” he says while manhandling you into position.

He holds you in place as his eyes fall to where you soaked through your panties.

“Hmmm,” Sam says as he runs a finger over the wet spot; the light brushing causes you to quake. “You’re drenched for me, aren’t you sweetie?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before he slips his fingers inside of your sodden underwear. He doesn’t slide his fingers inside of your pulsing center, but rubs the knuckles over the length of your slit. Then, without warning, he tries to rip your underwear from your body. It doesn’t come away completely. The fabric leaves a mark against your skin, but you don’t have time to concern yourself with that because Sam is on his feet and as you pressed against the conference table in the blink of an eye.

He still has both of your hands behind your back as he uses his knee to part your legs again.

“Don’t move,” he warns as he lets go of where he is holding you. You feel him tear your ruined panties roughly from your body; soon he is using the damaged garment to tie your wrists behind your back. You try to lift your upper body from off of the cold, hard table, but Sam pushes you down once more.

“I wanted to fuck you when I first saw you,” he admits. “With your hair all messy and your face all dirty. You looked so helpless and all I wanted to do was get this dick inside you. Fuck you until you weren’t scared of those men who abducted you. Shit, there’re scarier men out there than them, men like me. Did they fuck you while you were there?”

“No. No one touched me.”

He rubs his smooth crown over your pussy and says, “You sound disappointed, pretty girl. Is that what you like? Bad men touching you? Fucking you? Did you want them to?”

“No.”

He inches the tip of his cock between your swollen lips and your breath hitches.

“Why not?” he asks as he pushes you down onto the table harder.

“I knew you were coming,” you say breathlessly.

He laughs. Captain America has you bent over a boardroom table with the head of his dick inside of you, and he laughs. You feel like your skin is on fire.

“You think I’m a good guy? You think I’m not like them?”

“You’re – shit,” he inches inside of you a little more. “You’re better than them.”

“Am I really?” he asks as he slides his hardness into your tightness. “You think I’m a good guy?”

“Hmm.”

Another laugh escapes his lips as he grabs your hair and turns your head so you’re looking back at him.

“Would a good guy do this?”

He drives his cock into you without warning; you let out a high-pitched whimper. He withdraws it just enough so that the head is still between your folds.

“Would a good guy have you bent over a table ready to fuck your sweet little cunt?”

You let out a moan at his words before answering with a weak but heady, “No.”

He lets go of your hair and you close your eyes. You can’t see Sam smiling as he rams his dick into you once again. He lets out an obscene moan when he finally bottoms out. You find yourself holding your breath as you squirm a little to accommodate his size. He withdraws his length slowly, before ramming himself back inside.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he all but cries as he tightens his grip on your wrists and begins to thrust. He sets a steady rhythm as she pumps into you quickly, hurriedly. He is chasing his release and you have the vague feeling that he is going to want to find it as fast as he can. If the way he is fucking you in a frenzied manner is any indication, you’ll both be a quivering mess sooner than later.

Never in your wildest imaginings would you have thought Captain America would be cursing filthy words as he takes you from behind. The discomfort from the angle at which he has you bent is washed away by the sheer pleasure of his skilful dick impaling you. He fucks you without restraint. He fucks you fervently and brutally. He continues to fuck you even when your traitorous little pussy comes too soon all over his dick. He fucks you through your orgasm, watching as his veiny cock is glistening wet from your juices. He fucks you until your gushing pussy starts to cream all over his shaft. He fucks you until your pulsing pussy clenches around him and draws out his climax; he fucks you until he pulls out and comes on your ass.

“Fuck,” he manages, as he collapses on top of you.

Your entire body is shaking. You fight to catch your breath as you feel another orgasm threatening to ripple through you.

“Oh god,” you murmur. “Oh my god.”

Sam pushes you down as he lifts himself up. After a moment of trying to find some composure, he undoes your binds. He uses the destroyed garment to clean his dick before he tosses the torn panties at you and says, “Here, wipe that mess between your legs and on your ass. There’s a bathroom just through that door.”

You straighten yourself and stand with much difficultly. You try to walk, but your legs are weak. He notices and smirks at you. You straighten your clothing and go to clean yourself up, glancing back at him before you exit the room. When you return, Sam Wilson is already gone, and a young man is there looking slightly awkward.

“Hey,” he says as you try to walk properly.

“Hi, umm –”

“Yeah, so he’s gone to his next appointment,” the man proffers, anticipating what you were going to ask.

“Okay, can I leave?”

“Of course. Just need you to sign this,” he says while holding out a tablet with some kind of document on the screen.

“What is it?”

“Non-disclosure agreement,” he says in a matter-of-fact way. “Just to say that you won’t talk about whatever happened here today between you and Mr Wilson.”

“Oh, I –ah –”

“You don’t need to explain to me,” he says, almost sympathetically. “Just sign at the bottom and don’t go talking about anything with the media or your friends and family.”

“Okay,” you say as you skim the document quickly and then scribble your name at the bottom, wondering if you’ll ever get to see Captain America again.

A day later, you watch the interview on your phone. You cringe a little when you are on the screen, but find yourself mesmerized by Sam Wilson just like you were when you met him. You think about what it felt like to have him inside of you; you recall the filthy things he said to you. You shift on your bed as your body responds to the memories while you watch him. You wonder about him. You wonder if he was always like that. You wonder if he’s doing the same thing to some other girl he saved, and you can’t help the little pang of jealousy that swirls in the pit of your stomach. You continue to watch the interview, fixating on Sam.

You notice something and have to go back a few seconds. You replay it a couple of times as you feel a throbbing between your legs. It’s the part of the interview that’s not focused on Sam, but on you. It is the exact moment something changes behind his eyes; where the brown turns fiery: It is when you tell the interviewer how helpless you felt.

That’s when you realize it’s what turned him on, knowing how helpless you were while being held captive by those bad men. As you slip your hand into your shorts and dip your fingers between your slick lips, you admit to yourself it turns you on, too. As you trail your juices up to your clit and begin to massage it, you admit that knowing Sam Wilson wanted to fuck you because you were powerless makes you horny. This new discovery causes you to smile. Who would have thought that it makes you wet, being at the mercy of powerful men? Who would have thought you would come so hard, being at the mercy of Captain America?

#sam wilson #dark!sam wilson #dark!sam wilson x reader

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reinepadova · 3 years

Text

To Be Seen

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There are many paths up the mountain. But the view from the top is always the same.

Qingce Village. A plot of land once dwelt by an enormous, dreaded beast. A great threat, and source of terror for its inhabitants. Dark were the skies, and molten was the earth. Stones quaked and shifted from battles sown, and water turned fog from the heat of conflict.

Many a life perished or fled – those that are able, found refuge in the marshes or by the sea. Those that could not, stayed and endured.

But long has passed those years of misery, Morax reflected, eyes turned soft at the drifting dust under sunlight. Only Mt. Qingce remains, steadfast and true. A preserver of the old and the young, and of the croplands turned abundant. The landscape painted with colors of tranquility, with shades of the quiet.

To this, he could say, was one reason he fought. Why he dared raise great spears against those that oppose him, that question his strength. Why his ambitions for a seat with the Seven was so great.

Why he let his life's blood spill and his flesh torn asunder, all to be used for trade.

All he had sacrificed... so that all may prosper. So those deemed weak but with a passion for life, and a mind that craves understanding may learn, may improve. May become greater than what they thought to be. What they can be.

And flourish they did, Morax thought fondly, gazing out the window to watch three children play. A boar in the distance, charging away. Admirably so, like the trees and blooms that persisted amidst the cracked earth, or emerged from the muddy waters that once flowed red.

His eyes narrowed, then shut, musings turned grey.

He has danced and sung to the tune of combat, played his part well into the final act. His will, ironclad – unyielding and absolute, against the odds. Against all the other gods. All to reach the peace the entire land longed for after the audacious declaration from Celestia:

「Survive, and be crowned The Seven.」

「Gain the power of the divine.」

「Be one above all, in your chosen land.」

And to this, he succeeded, with glory placed upon his head, and the remnants of slaughter at his feet.

The Prime of the Adepti, said they. A riotous cheer. A whisper, filled with dread. Ha. Even among the Seven – the original, and the newly seated – he is the eldest, hence, the most respected. And therein lies his burden. To be charged as the standard, to be exemplary in the eyes of his people...

Still. This position is not without its advantages – he would not have fought for it if there were none. Truly, he could not ask for more, even if he tried. The enormity of his titles, to be granted the highest of honors among those that dwell in the newly named Teyvat – bearing in mind the heavens that granted his godhood of course.

His people are proud of him. His land reveres him.

And yet.

Why must this... dissatisfaction linger? The feelings of restlessness. Aimlessness. Like a shell drifting in endless sea.

What must be missing, when the fruits of his labor, the smiles of his people, and the generations therafter, are present and abundant? When the inhabitants accepted his protection, his standards, with delight, and worship. When they honor him by fulfilling contracts in accordance to how he fulfill his. When they sing songs and tell stories of his conquests, of his deeds as lessons to keep in mind, as morals to strive for and progress to.

Why then does this void exist? What is it he still lacks as a being?

Is... he still enough? Is he –

“... is Mei still doing good?”

A murmur, gentle and small, broke through his musings, eerily echoing his thoughts out loud. Morax turned inquisitive, amber eyes at the closed door, wonder outshining the memories, and bringing him back to the present.

The Miss Lala had been explicit about the necessity of his confinement, citing the resurgence of chaos upon his appearance. Seeing the tired yet resolute set to her shoulders, he could only acquiesced. He did not wish to tire the lady more with an argument. But truly, it was an odd request, at best. His people are familiar with this form, and would not run in fright, as she so fears. Why, they would likely crowd around him, vying for his blessing and attention and –

He rested one claw under his maw, pondering. Ah. That brand of chaos. I see. It seems she has better foresight than the average mortal. And most considerate as well. How kind.

His ears perked, hearing a faint, crackling call of farewell at the main entrance. He swiftly nudged open the door of the lady's chambers and floated out, seeing immediately the quiant scene at the kitchen.

“You're doing very good. You can stop when you smell it turning to powder. It's like... milk, but very very faint.”

“Oh! Can Mei put it on the lilies after? Please? Pretty please?”

Even from behind, the tilt of her head, the softness of her stance, indicates a fondness for the child. There is no doubt she is smiling down at her as well. She patted Young Mei in between her pigtail buns and replied, “Of course you can! You can sprinkle as much as you want. After we make the soil mix.” The little girl squealed, turning back to her task with renewed vigor.

He drifted closer, brows furrowing when the lady discreetly rub at her eyes while the little one is distracted.

It seems I may need to intervene.

-{-}-

Stella raised a brow, feeling long whiskers brush over her shoulder, before the slight weight of the guardian's muzzle rested on it. She smiled when gold orbs focused curiously on the crunching and banging Mei's been doing, relieved that he showed himself after the chief went out for her rounds.

“It's for the flowers,” she explained, reaching to caress a glowing petal nearby. “A bird's eggshell is rich in minerals. Its as effective as any other fertilizer... but with lot less smell.” Mei giggled in agreement, adding that her Gran-gran was ecstatic when she was taught other tricks in the garden from Lala – especially doing away with 'pork poopy' all together. “Also, also, Lala taught Mei how to water plants!”

Stella chuckled at the inquiring eyes of their floating guest, who managed to tilt its head at her from an odd angle – the perks of having a long neck, I guess? “She keeps drowning the Jueyun Chili plants back in the Harbor. At most, they just need a sip within a week. Ha! I know that look,” she crowed, seeing familiar incredulity on the guardian's face. “I don't know why no one thought to cultivate herbs in their own garden. Or to water them for that matter. They can't always depend on the rain. No one can control the weather.

Besides, if you can cultivate rare flowers, like the ones in Yujing Terrace, why not something as common as herbal plants?”

-{-}-

It is because of their plenitude that such notion is not considered. The oceanids have a knowing of the needs of the land – as such is my deal with them. They have been good to Liyue ever since. Why, when the croplands of Qingce are at their most vulnerable, Rhodeia answered their plea in an instant!

– Is what Morax would have said. But he only let out a small rumble and slow nod, turning back to the little girl covered in flecks of white powder, gaze softening at the sight of her bright smile.

As insightful as the siren has been since the start of their journey, it is not unwise to tread carefully. Knowledge is power. I have yet to know what she will do with it, once bestowed. If only the Fatui have not been such a conniving force as of late. I would have welcomed any foreigner within my stone walls.

Nevertheless, her care for a child not her own or of her people is admirable and exceptional, a far cry from how that organization operates. Her good sense too, would make for an engaging conversation.

Throughout the endless centuries he lived through – and will continue to, perhaps – he beared witness to a myriad of changes, great and small. No detail is insignificant enough for him to overlook. Or at all. He could not afford to. For one changed clause, nay, even one unclear word, could spell disaster for his land's defenses.

That said, he could assert he has very good memory. All printed and verbal contents of a contract is written like a tablet in his head, etched deep and fixed. The prosperity Liyue is blessed with is proof of his steadfast attention to detail; to consider all particulars, both the advantage and disadvantage, before he would, as they say, 'seal the deal'.

It is rare indeed for him to think 'what more does he not know?'

And yet, here he his, observing and listening. The lady elucidating their intention to gather an interesting mixture made out of smoked rice husk, charred wood, clay and soft sand. Another source of nutrients, she says, for the Lilies to be comfortable in during transport.

Eventually, he could focus no longer at her words, seeing her fighting to keep awake, feeling her sway dangerously on her feet. Her charge looked up in concern as she leaned on the counter, eyes closed shut in pain.

-{-}-

Stella gritted her teeth, about to reach for her temple when her world shifted again.

Although she never indulge in the various wines this world had to offer, she can imagine this was how the drunks at the dock feel: head, heavy as ores; body, light as a feather.

Or was it, float like a feather? It certainly feels like she's in the air. Literally. A sensation she never thought she'd experience again after –

An inkling of worry crept up her neck, minutely thinking of Mei, before she faceplanted on something soft. She reached out a hand, feeling cotton and smooth silk. Her...bed?

“Urgh... where – what?”

A low snort nearby answered her. She felt too tired to think of anything of it. The pillow under her seems exceptionally comfortable right now. Maybe she won't suffocate if she stayed this way?

So. Tired...

A chuff sounded next, lighter in tone, before something wrapped around her shoulders. She breathed deep as sunlight burned her eyes, a tugging at her feet made her crane her head down. She now lied flat on her back, with a large, blurry... something, weighing her down.

“... Mei? What are you doing?”

Her charge was quiet, wholly concentrated on making sure her boots were placed near the bed before coming up to her. The little girl tugged and dragged a blanket up and over her legs, intending to swaddle her with it. Stella feebly raised an arm, wanting to help, but a gleam of teeth made her pause. A muzzle cradled a handful of the cloth near Mei's arm, and lifted it easily up to Stella's chin.

“Lala? You rest, okay?” the little girl whispered, smoothing down the blanket while staring at her with wide, understanding eyes. “You work hard again for Mei. The Lilies? Mei tried to follow you last night, but Chief-dàmā told Mei to stay and wait. Mei tried, but Mei too tired. Mei wants you to sleep now.”

“But Mei. The Lilies – ”

“Gran-gran always scold bàba 'a person who does not know good rest, does not know how to do good work'. Leave the Lilies to Mei! Mei will ask for help. Promise! Lala should rest.”

“Are you sure – ”

“Lala. Rest.” the girl asserted, a stubborn tilt to her chin, but eyes still pleaded for her to agree.

Before Stella could make up her mind, the weight on her chest suddenly spread, encompassing her down to her legs, trapping her effectively. A huff of hot breath made her squint and look up. Larger, glowing orbs stared her down, making her stare back, mouth agape.

Mei giggled, seemingly satisfied she'll behave while Mr. Guardian was around, and quietly left. The skipping tone of her steps was still loud enough for Stella to hear behind the closed door.

She sighed, gaze turning wry. “Alright. You made your point. Get off.” Having a predator over her like this would normally be a terrifying experience. But when she remembered how kind it had been with her during their sprint back to the village, and how gently it gazed down at Mei, she knew she could trust it – to a certain degree. She's sure it has the strength to crush her with a quick squeeze, but she's oddly confident it won't.

Stella quickly reconsidered her good opinion though when the creature had the gall to chuff, as if amused, and placed its large head next to her, adjusting its body to lie comfortably on the bed – but with her still under it!

A sudden thought went through her like a lightning bolt.

“If you can grow this large, why didn't you do so last night and we could, you know, fly back here?”

Amused eyes turn blank, blinking back at her with a look that spelled of realization.

Stella groaned, grumbling about 'common sense is not common at all' under her breath.

-{-}-

“I apologize, good sir. But Zhongli-xiānsheng has not yet returned,” Ferrylady intoned quietly, bowing her head.

The gentleman in Fatui robes raised a blonde brow, growing pensive. “Still? How peculiar. We thought this special consultant is only busy during an adepti's Rite of Parting. It's been awhile since the last one, isn't it? We heard he's fond of strolling around the harbor. He's not one easily missed.”

“That is not inaccurate. But – ”

“But as we value his expertise in all matter of things, we believe he deserves some 'R and R' once in a while, don't you think~? I gave him leave to do so however long he likes~” said a laughing voice at the doorway.

“Hu Tao-zhǔrèn!”

“Oh. The Director?”

Hu Tao smiled wide, closed lipped, strolling into the office with a dancing step. Despite her upbeat demeanor, the gentleman still sweat dropped at the strange gleam in her eyes. “A consultant's work is just as demanding as any other job in Liyue, you see. Its why those of this realm, and of the next, leave very satisfied from our parlor~ No complaints at all!” she giggled sweetly, eyeing him more as she took a dainty step closer. “Buuut. Considering you have been on such a long wait, we will give you a great discount! Twenty percent, including the incense. You'll even get double the savings if you have a buddy with you~” she sang, fanning out two dark coupons from her sleeve and waving them invitingly.

The gentleman froze in place, quaking internally in terror. His time in the Fatui made him all too familiar with subtle threats, and this is a masterfully done one. Luckily, the Ferrylady spoke softly again, distracting him from his oncoming panic.

“Sir, may I take a message? Or would you rather we send for you when he arrives?”

“Ah, ahh...no need! The Director is... very clear, ehem – we don't mind the wait at all! An appointment with him is not that urgent anyway. Just mention the Fatui is interested to get acquainted with him, and his knowledge of the obscure. We’re confident your business will greatly benefit from a connection with us.”

“Hmm... I doubt it,” the Director hummed breezily, turning to a window to gaze out at the full moon.

The gentleman blinked, thinking he misheard. “Excuse me?”

Hu Tao giggled cutely, glancing back at him with smiling eyes. “We'll keep your words in mind, good sir! Buh-bye now~ I'm sure you're a busy man yourself. Our dear undertaker will tend to you when you need our services. At any time.”

The gentleman gulped, eyes widening. “Uhh, right. Yes! With gratitude!

Uhm, farewell, Director Hu. Thank you for gracing us with your presence, and your time. You too, Ferrylady,” he hurriedly added, not wanting to often the boss of the funeral parlor by being rude to the undertaker –

The... undertaker...

One who buries the bodies...!

When the gentleman hastily scurried away into the night, the Ferrylady turned to her young boss, face turning worried.

“Hu Tao-Zhǔrèn? I apologize if this might be spoken out of turn but – ”

“Why am I so direct with a potential customer?” Hu Tao smiled more lightly, doodling something on a parchment with careless brushstrokes.

“...”

Hu Tao chuckled, used to the Ferrylady's silence. The quiet suits the atmosphere perfectly.

“Hmm. Let’s just say for those that have incurred death's wrath, dark butterflies shall sure to follow. Poor things. To think they would have to do such a thing. Such a waste of delicate beauty.”

The Ferrylady gasped, hovering her hands over her mouth, eyeing the rough symbol of the Fatui next to large ink splatters. “Oh my! You mean – ”

“When Zhongli-xiānsheng is back, warn him of the visit. Business might pick up soon. Who knows~?” Hu Tao shrugged, humming thoughtlessly into the moonlit night.

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[←Previous] | Chapter 4 | [ Next → ]

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A/N: Sorry for the long introspection. I’ve been like this whenever I try to think link a 6,000+ y.o. Archon. Then again, no matter how much knowledge you have, there’s so many things you can still learn about.

Like common sense.

Quick translation of the honorifics I chose to use:

Chief-dàmā = Mei affectionately calling Granny Ruoxin ‘Chief Granny/Auntie’.

bàba = daddy/papa

xiānsheng = mister. In Japanese, its like ‘sensei’ (hence the Jap Dub xD)

zhǔrèn = director/manager

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Follower Tag: @meladollsims

#to be seen #zhongli #zhongli x female OC #zhongli x oc #fanfiction #companion mini exuvia #shapeshifting archon #hu tao #ferrylady #common sense is not common

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mstrumpeter · 3 years

Text

And When He Smiles I Swear I Can’t Breathe

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader

Word count: 1,655

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers characters or movies. This refers to Alan Rubin as a character in the movie, not the real Alan (although he obvsly played himself but you know what I mean)

I’d like to add that I made everyone of the band a few years younger (so the age gap between the reader and Alan isn’t that big), so he’s approx. in his early 30s.

Sophia & Lisa are two OCs created by two lovely people within the fandom.

Warnings: none

Chapter IV

A few days past and Sophia and Lisa had a hard time to get a hold of Charlotte. She barely was home and spent a lot of time in classes or in the College’s own library. Her plan was to keep herself distracted from thinking about Alan and also putting more effort into her studies had settled her parents in some way. At least they were asking less questions and leaving her alone for most of the time.

One day the two friends went by Charlotte’s home again, hoping she’d be there. And as she opened the front door, her friends were purely delighted to see her again. “Hey hun, we’ve been trying to reach out to you.” “Yeah I’m sorry, I was pretty busy studying. Please come in.” “You’re parents home?” “Nope, fortunately they’re not.” “We really have been worried about you.”, Sophia said and took a seat on the couch. “I know and I’m really sorry, I had some trouble with my dad and you know how I prefer to isolate when things become though.” “We’re always there for you.”, Lisa reassured Charlotte and they both sat down beside Sophia. “We are meeting the boys Friday night for a casual get together and thought it’d be lovely if you joined us.” “Just Lou and Jake?” “Yes exactly.”, Lisa replied to her. But Sophia shot the girl with the red hair a commanding eye. “A-and Alan.” “Well, to put things straight he said he’d be there if there was a chance of you being present.”, Sophia explained. “What? Girls this ain’t funny.”, Charlotte said and wanted to get up but her friends hold her in place. “The last times we met the boys he asked about you, wanted to know why you wasn’t with us.” “Alright don’t toy with me. The last time I saw him, he had some blonde woman in his arms.” “Look I don’t know who that woman was, perhaps we was unhappy with the situation between you two and was simply trying to distract himself.” “You know what men are like.”, Sophia also trying to comfort Charlotte. “He really asked about me?” “Yes, yes, he did! A few times actually!” And just the day before yesterday. I told you the very first night he’s crazy about you.” Charlotte needed a moment to think about it. “Well, okay, yeah, why not!” “Great, I can’t wait for the three of us back together, we really missed you.” Sophia gave her friend a tight hug. “If anything’s wrong, call us. Please.” She gave her friends a warm smile. “I will. Oh, Sophia before it forget… I hope you gave Jake an appropriate welcome the other night.”, Charlotte said with a whimsically grin. “Oh you bet I did. We didn’t even made it home without, you know. So finally my car’s inaugurated.”, Sophia boasted with a big laugh. “Woah remind me to never ride along in your car ever again.” “Well in that case you shouldn’t use my apartment’s door anymore either! Or sit on my sofa, my kitchen table-“ “Damn girl, I got you!”, causing the three girls to scream with laughter. “No seriously Jake’s a wild boy, couldn’t wait for him being back but there’s no better feeling than falling asleep in his arms, cuddling into his chest.” “Well, we certainly are happy you got him back for now.” “Truth to be told you were pretty narky without him.”, Lisa rolled her eyes joking.

Until Friday there were going so many thoughts through Charlotte’s head and she constantly told herself not to get her hopes up again. Yes, he asked about her. But that didn’t mean anything necessarily. He still could be interested in a casual hook, especially after what Lou had told her. But tonight would give her a harmless opportunity to learn more about him and that “issue" without making a fool out of her by asking him out directly.

Charlotte picked out a nice dress and did her make up in front of the mirror, while dancing and singing along to one of the boy’s albums. When she was satisfied with her look, she grabbed her coat and jumped on to the next bus heading city centre.

They agreed to meet at this little bar with live music, which especially gave young, newcomers of the rhythm and blues scene a chance to gain experience.

Sophia and Lisa waited for Charlotte in front of the bar. “Hiya girls, am I running late?” “No, not at all, the guys are already inside but we didn’t want you to walk in on your own.” They gave each other a hug before Charlotte went inside first. She let her gaze wander through the room and found Jake sitting at a table near the small stage where a young girl with a guitar was performing. Lou was walking towards the bar, where no less than Alan was sitting on one of the barstools, a lady leaning into him. She was tugging and fiddling with his shirt, his hands grabbing hers and the upper part of his black, silk shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his chest hair. Her face only inches away from his. And that was all Charlotte needed and wanted to see. She turned on her heel, squeezed past her friends and straight through the door. “Wait, Charlotte where’re you going?” Hearing her name, Alan looked to the door and saw a baffled Lisa and Sophia, who quickly noticed the woman that was almost on his lap by now and they gave each other a concerning look.

Lou carefully grabbed the woman, trying to pull her away from Alan. “Miss you’re drunk. You’re surely doing better if you go home.” “No, get your hands off of me. I’m in the middle of a conversation with this very handsome man, can’t you see?”, the woman slurred. “We’re not!”, Alan claimed. “I’m sorry but I already told you, I’m not interested.” “No, no, you gave me those eyes, I can always tell.”, the woman persisted. Luckily the bartender chipped in “Listen, Ma’am, we called you a taxi, it’s waiting outside and will bring you home. You are way to drunk to be in my bar and I won’t approve of you molesting other guest.” Jake started up from his chair and he and Lou both grabbed on arm of the lady, dragging her outside, placing her carefully in the car waiting outside. “Thanks guys.”, Alan thanked the two as soon as they got back in. He greeted Lisa and Sophia and they all took a seat at the table next to Elwood. Alan looked at the girls, “Charlotte, she…?” “Is probably home by now.”, Sophia finished for him. “There was nothing going on, SHE approached me, I wasn’t even interested.” , he tried to explain himself. “We know that, Charlie’s just… overreacting sometimes, when it comes to things like these.”, Sophia told him and Lisa felt the need to correct her, “she’s overcautious, that’s all.” The three musicians gave the girls a curious look. “Her ex cheated on her for quite some time. Problem was he was an employee of her dad, he introduced the two.” “Some young and rich wanna-be.”, Sophia added. “Everyone knew he wasn’t good for Charlotte but her dad thought so much of him it was hard for Charlotte to convince him otherwise. So she had a hard time when she was trying to break up with that guy. Her father simply didn’t let her and she had so stay with him.” “That’s shit, man.”, Lou mumbled. Alan looked taken aback. “She knows not every man is like him but if a guy she likes is surrounded by women every time, it scares her off.” “No chances for you then, Mr. Fabulous, huh?”, Jake joked and gave him a bump with his elbow and Alan said nothing but lowered his eyes. “I’m sure she will understand that she was wrong to judge the situation from what she saw only.”, Lisa said with a smile and laid her hand on Alan’s arm. Lou though quickly grabbed Lisa’s other hand and she understood that little hint by removing her hand from Alan’s arm causing him to chuckle about the cute couple next to him.

For the rest of the night the four tried to cheer up the trumpet player but didn’t success. He had been looking forward to this evening so much. He understood that Charlotte was being cautious after what had happened with her ex but was as disappointed he didn’t even had proper chance yet to show her how much he liked her.

The next Monday afternoon Charlotte’s father got home excitedly. “Sylvia darling! We won the case against ‘Jones & Johnson’! They finally decided the verdict, what a triumph.”, he praised and gave his wife a big kiss. “We’re all going out for dinner, tonight. This calls for a celebration. Tell the girls to get ready and dress up!”

On schedule for their reservation the family got into their car. “You know I still think you and mum should enjoy this night on your own, you deserve some quality alone home.”, Charlotte tried to bluff it out. “Nonsense, you two are joining us.”, her dad told her. “What was that restaurant called again….?”, the youngest sister enquired. “Ugh, don’t even bother to tell us, I bet it’s just another snobby French place”, Charlotte snapped and laid her head against the window.

As they reached the posh restaurant, the bored girl ambled behind her parents, checking out the place. “Chez Paul.”, she mumbled the name of the place and scoffed. “Good evening, Sir, we have a reservation at 8, for Ellington.”. She heard her father say. “Of course, welcome at the Chez Paul, Mr. Ellington. Please this way.” And at the first word Charlotte had already recognised that voice. His voice. So soothing and sexy, like the melody of her favourite song.

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III

#Alan Rubin x fem!Reader #Alan Rubin x Reader #blues brothers #blues brothers fanfiction #blues brothers fandom #Mr. Fabulous

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter thirty one: sets of twins

October thirteenth had come about and Sam knew for a fact that Joey was having a blast overseas in Germany. She pictured him with a big cake courtesy of one of the large luxurious bakeries over there that specialized in making cakes, and she knew he was to head off to bed that evening with his belly full of it as well as the dinner he so well chose.

Meanwhile, the arrival of the orange and red leaves on all of the trees made her think of the last days in which she and Cliff were together, right around that time in fact. A year ago. A year ago she had lost Cliff to the northern darkness and he became the hunter in the shadows left behind the aurora borealis. The walks to and from school only made the memory of him far more potent: but it was Joey's birthday when the reality of it all settled over her. Metallica had ascended into a whole other world of their own, but Joey and Anthrax remained right by her, right within arms' reach, just like the colors that changed on all of the trees around her.

The red and orange like the feathers decorated upon Joey's headdress.

She pictured him out front there on the stage with a little party hat upon his head much like Alex's birthday party, or perhaps he would wear one of those inside of his Indian headdress during their performance of “Indians”. The only drawback she saw with it however was that his birthday took place right smack in the middle of the week. Add to this, Sam, Marla, and Belinda didn't have a three day weekend like they so assumed would happen with Columbus Day.

“Go to school anyways,” Joey told her over the phone on the Thursday night before that weekend. “Make all the great art you possibly can for Monday. We need that great art of yours—all the red feathers and the Iroquois lore. The world needs that great art of yours.”

He then cleared his throat and sang to her in the softest, most gentlest voice she had ever heard him sing. She lay in bed all the while as well, and so when he sang to her, it almost felt as though he was singing her to sleep. Indeed, she nestled down in bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin as she held the cordless phone up to her ear. She pictured him laying in bed as well, complete with a cup of Mexican hot chocolate next to him. She smiled when he crooned the words, “Oh, Samantha” in a near whisper.

“That was so sweet,” she told him afterwards.

“That's the song I sang for my audition into Anthrax,” he explained, “it's called 'Oh, Sherrie', by Steve Perry from Journey. I just changed it to Samantha to kinda give it to ya and whatnot.”

“Aw.”

He then cleared his throat. “So any word on that big ass monolithic ginormous project you've got coming up?” “Nothing yet,” she explained, “although I'm supposed to meet up with Bill next Friday afternoon and talk it over more. At least I hope to get to see him. He told me he's going to pop into one of my classes just to watch me, but he never told me when it's supposed to happen.”

“Well, damn.”

They fell into silence for a seconds and then she spoke again.

“You know, I think you can actually come with me out to California,” she pointed out, “like—you know, we don't have to do the long distance. I might have to ask him about it because the whole thing about it being about school and whatnot. I say this because that was the mistake Cliff and I made. He didn't want to leave the Bay Area and I didn't want to leave New York, either. He actually got kind of defensive about it at one point. I remember that was one of the last things he and I talked about before Metallica left for their tour and we never fully finished it, either.”

“Wow, that sounds like there was a rift between you two,” Joey noted.

“I wouldn't necessarily say that,” Sam confessed as she slipped one hand underneath her pillow, right under her head. “But it was definitely something we couldn't address further than that, though. Cliff was so home grown with the Bay Area that it almost feels like a betrayal to him that he was killed in Scandinavia, somewhere that wasn't his home.”

“And if I'm honest, I kinda am, too, but with upstate.” He then cleared his throat again. “Although—make no mistake, though, Sam. If we were a lot bigger than we are right now, like if Anthrax truly was about to become something huge, I would probably reconsider that.”

“So for you, it's not just feeling at home and at peace in upstate New York but it's a matter of money.”

“Right! Exactly. We are kinda earnin', but it's not really a lot, though. No idea why this is, either. But we're barely getting paid, though, even while being on tour. Anyways, I gotta mosey on outta here—rehearsal starts in like three minutes. Also before I forget. I should tell ya this: be on the lookout for postcards.”

“Postcards from you?”

“From me, from Frankie, from Charlie, from Danny, from the girls, all of us. We're gonna be sending ya stuff while we're over here in Europe. Also, another thing I should ask you—how's Scott doin'? Have you talked to him at all?”

“I haven't seen him, no,” Sam confessed. “Like weeks—not since you auditioned for the guitarist position. Although I'm thinking of going over to his place and at least checking in on him and his fiancée.”

“You ought to. On the flight over here, Frankie and I were talking and at one point, he goes, 'I wonder how Scott's been doing lately. We sure haven't heard from him in a long time.'”

Someone behind him interrupted him right then and there.

“What's that?” Joey called back and he held the phone away from his ear. The person said something.

“Okay,” he told them, and he brought the phone back. “Anyways, I gotta go. You sleep tight, alright?”

“Of course,” Sam said. “And you guys don't stay up too late.”

He chuckled at that. “Alright—good night, Sam I am. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And they hung up at the same time. She lay there on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling above her, and she listened to the falling rain outside of her window.

But at some point, she drifted off to sleep without putting the cordless back. There was a dream in there at some point, but she had no idea as to what it exactly encapsulated, especially by the time she woke up and Marla was cooking something in the kitchen for the both of them.

Sam had hope that the Cherry Suicides would have their day on Halloween for their annual celebratory show. She had no idea as to where they were playing that night, either, but she hoped that they would have those sugar skulls with them again.

Indeed, on Columbus Day weekend, she sat down with her colored pencils and her journal. She thought of Joey and that big headdress of red and white feathers perched high on his head, as if it was a crown. The crown in lieu of a party hat, the crown for his ascension into his twenty seventh trip about the sun, and thus she drew his head and shoulders. Those thick luxurious curls down from his head in such flyaway fashion and that big cluster of feathers all the way down to the floor. That rich scarlet for the base and the orange and golden yellow for the power of the sun.

She thought about Belinda's wishes to take her into stained glass. Perhaps it could be something genuinely wonderful as she picked up the Prussian blue and burnt umber colored pencils for the shadows under Joey's eyes and all about his face.

She thought about the glass in question, in how it all seemed so much brighter and more colorful when in the sun. All the times of walking to and fro about that front hallway of the school, where the morning sun shone through the stained glass. If only there was a way to bring it all forth with mere colored pencils.

Indeed, she brought the burnt umber to an angle and she began shading in his skin, a tone ever so light about his face. By his nose and the point of his chin, she gave it another layer and spread it out. Followed by another and another, until there she had the darkest, fullest shade of that lush, earthy brown for his sun kissed skin. The blue, meanwhile, added a touch more depth, especially to the natural creases on his face, around his nose and the corners of his mouth and his dark lips.

If only there was a way in which she could show this drawing to Joey, and if only there was a way in which she could translate this very drawing over to the world of stained glass. She had faith in Belinda and her power of convincing, however the whole suggestion about bringing leather crafting to the school seemed to have fallen on deaf ears at that point: neither of them heard anything about it since Alex's birthday party.

It was right there that she had forgotten to ask Joey about the guitar strap she had given to him for his birthday, and how it was faring for him with the overseas crowds. She pictured him at the front of the stages, with the microphone before him and the guitar slung over his shoulder, high against his body as it should be with him. If there was anything he could have given Alex credit for, it had to be that. The whole thing between him and Alex almost no sense to her, even to that moment in time, it made no sense to her.

The day following Joey's birthday, a Wednesday afternoon and the only time Sam had any time to herself during that quarter given Marla's whole hectic schedule on her own as well as all that she had to do, she spotted a pair of cards in the mailbox downstairs, one light rosy pink and the other a butter yellow. The latter had with it a small lumpy envelope the size of a playing card.

She turned over the yellow card where she was met with a clear, crisp photograph of a castle in Germany. To be near a castle once again!

But then she turned it over again in order to read that messy scrawl in blue pen.

“Sam—

my wife and I are trusting you with this key to our apartment, seeing as we owe you the record player with Spreading.

I hope all is well back home right now! I wish you were here with us—if you loved England, you'll love Germany and Holland even more.

Love, Danny”

She turned her head back to the mailbox and she took out the envelope. Indeed, she felt something hard inside, and she knew that she had been given a chance to listen to the vinyl records she so wished to listen to, mainly Spreading the Disease and also Live at Eindhoven. She then turned to the pink postcard, which had a photograph of a cobblestone street somewhere in Amsterdam. But right in the midst of the cobblestones stood the Cherry Suicides, donned in black hats and red veils as if someone had taken the picture right before the show and one of them tacked it onto the card. She then turned it over to read.

“Sam—

do you remember that tape we asked you to make for us? Well, we got accepted into the new merger between Megaforce and the other label with it! A bootleg tape is now a live album thanks to your help. It's not our debut album, but it's something to start with with us. Because of it, we're happy to tell you that you're the first in line for this new record. The Cherry Suicides: from Rhode Island with love—live in Boston 1987, is the full title. Be on the lookout for it around Halloween, believe it or not.

Be on the lookout for a live album from Anthrax and Testament, too—although I'm sure you already know about the latter. I don't know if Eric told you this yet, but that album isn't even supposed to come out over there in States until next year, so consider yourself lucky, my lady! Anyways, there's all kinds of good stuff from all of us! Things are in fact beginning to look up, and the four of us in particular owe it all to you.

Morgan, Minerva, and Rosita all send their love, and as do I.

-Zelda”

She smiled at that and she held both cards to her chest, a pair of twin cards, from two people she held so close to her heart. She then made her way upstairs with those as well as that lumpy envelope that Dan had sent her, and she was eager to make her way over to his place all to listen to those vinyl records.

Again, a pair of twins, soon to be triplets with the Cherry Suicides' upcoming live album. How exciting! The girls finally found their way with a new record, and it happened to be that bootleg tape that Sam had made for them while they toured with Anthrax and Testament as well.

She almost stumbled her way into the apartment but she caught herself before Genie greeted her at the door. Once she set everything down on the couch, she reached down and pet her little black cat head. She squinted her eyes at the feeling and she treated Sam to a low purr, and she squatted down before her so she could better pet her.

If she was to leave for California with Bill, then she would have to leave Genie behind as well, and this cat always greeted her in particular whenever she came in through that door. She erected her tail but left a small hook at the top as she rubbed on her knees. She turned around and gazed up at her with those soft golden eyes and that purr from within her throat, and Sam continued to pet her head and her back before her knees began to ache from the squatting.

No sooner had she stood to her feet when the phone rang.

“Oh, goodness me,” she told Genie, and she bowed into the kitchen and fetched the phone on the wall. “Hello?”

“Hello, daughter of mine.” She recognized her mother's voice on the other end.

“Oh, hi, Mom! I got home from school just now. What's happening?”

“I have some good news and some bad news,” Esmé began.

“Good news first,” Sam told her.

“The good news is in this past summer, starting from May, I have taken up writing. I handed in a sample of a manuscript to a publishing house down in L.A and I'm waiting to hear back from them. Your mother just might become a published author soon.”

“Oh, my god, that's wonderful!” Sam waved her hand about before her face, and then she remembered. “Now what about the bad news?”

“The bad news is—your father and I might be splitting up,” she confessed in a low voice. Sam then brought that same hand to her mouth to keep herself from screaming, or puking. Esmé let out a low whistle but she never said anything after that. The silence was deafening all around them.

“Why?” Sam finally managed to choke out.

“He tells me that things are just not right anymore,” she explained, “and they haven't been, either. Even I will admit to that. and just so you know, I never mentioned the man whom I used to know to him once before. But the human intuition is incredible, though. He and I—we talked it over together just this morning—and ever since then I haven't been able to completely process it yet.” She sniffled and Sam held a hand to her chest.

“Oh my god,” she breathed out. To think that her parents had been together for so long at that point as well: it didn't even feel right to her.

“But just—let's keep it between you and me, though,” Esmé advised her. “Unless Marla is really genuinely curious about it. I just—I don't know how else to tell you about this, either, other than straight up over the phone. If you were closer to us, I may have told you sooner before and you may have witnessed it as well.”

“Well, Mom—if it's any comfort at all—I actually might be back out there next summer,” she sputtered.

“Really?” Esmé paused. “What for? What happened?”

“Yeah, my counselor told me that my senior project is taking place out there. Like he planned it ahead of time, out in California, and he told me it's supposed to start like next August. So my junior year will end and then he and I prepare on heading out that way. With this—with hearing this, the one and only pitfall I can think of and see out of that is I'll be away from my friends here.”

“And you've settled into New York City, too,” Esmé added, “you seem so at home there, more so than you do here on the West Coast. But at least your father and I will get to see you again. This is actually something I've disliked about you living so far away from home, if I'm honest. I miss having you around us—and I know Ruben does, too. We both miss you dearly.”

“The other thing about it is I dunno how long it'll be, either,” Sam continued.

“And you'll be far away from Joey, too,” said Esmé in a grim tone of voice.

“I'll be far from Joey, too,” she echoed her.

“But wait, how does he feel about going out West? Maybe he can join you and Bill while you're out here.”

“I dunno—he and I were actually talking about that the other night. It's kind of Cliff was so reluctant to move with me, but Joey's more concerned with money, though. And just like Cliff, he's born and raised here in New York—you know, the whole upstate area where he's from. It's such a homey area, like the direct opposite of New York City in my opinion. You know, New York City is where the world comes to play and figure things out. Upstate is where the world bypasses it because everyone else pitched a tent there. So—I don't really see it, to be completely honest with you, Mom.”

“And it's a grueling task, too,” Esmé added, “you know the struggle the three of us went through three years ago.”

“How could I forget,” Sam quipped. “I was so happy to finally just lay down in bed afterwards.”

“Your father and I were, too, when we were staying at the hotel. I mean, we love New York for sure, and I do especially—in fact—come to think of it, one of the things that's driving the two of us apart is my desire to be back East, closer to you.”

“Really?” Sam pressed her free hand to her hip. “Well, why didn't you say anything before?”

“Well, because your father undertook so much when we were moving you over there. When we got home, Ruben said, 'we're only going over to New York for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I mean no offense to Sam at all, but we seriously can't do this all the time.' He never said anything to you because he didn't know how you would react to it.”

And Sam also thought about the previous conversation they had had before, in which Ruben might not have been her father after all. Indeed, it would also explain as to why she hardly heard anything from him unless the holidays rolled about.

“My publisher is also based out of L.A., too,” Esmé continued. “To make a huge decision such as that, a big grueling move across the family such as that, to move three thousand miles away now would be so frivolous and ultimately fruitless, in my personal opinion.”

“And it just wouldn't make any sense on top of that, anyway,” Sam pointed.

“Right, with you possibly coming out come the summer time as well. It wouldn't be right to me to have you out here for something for school only to have to pick everything up and swap places with you.”

But the news of her parents separating left Sam yearning for something else, something different. She barely paid any attention to anything more that her mother talked about after that; instead she thought of her next drawing. By the time she and Esmé bode each other goodbye for now, she returned to the couch to fetch her things. The lovely feeling she had had before had disappeared with the realization of what happened.

Even though her mother told her not to speak with anyone about it, Marla needed to know about it, and Joey needed to know about it. Aurora had built a home of her own and she hadn't heard anything from her since Alex's birthday party when she made it about herself. Her own best friend and fellow California girl wasn't even around to know about this thing that could alter everything and the world in which Sam knew about from that point onward. Her own best friend and whom she believed was her confidant.

Marla was more trustworthy with the arrival of all of this.

And it was right there that the tears began to fall from her eyes. She sniffled and brushed one away from her right, and she opened her book bag for her journal once again. To the page that followed her birthday drawing to Joey. She tried to keep the tears at bay as she put the first strokes of graphite down on the heavy graphite. But they still streaked down her face as she gave the drawing some dark hair.

Herself as a young child.

She thought about going into her room with the journal, but she had no reason to do so when she had the couch all to herself. She wept for herself and for the fact that she was never returning to childhood. She was never returning to Cliff. Even though she had no siblings to count on, she did feel as though she missed something. There had to be something right next to her all the while, someone else right next to her. She looked over at Genie, who had curled up in her usual spot on the couch.

Her golden eyes closed of the part of the way but she stayed awake.

Careful not to startle her, Sam reached over and petted her head again. She pinched those eyes closed all the way, which in turn made more tears bleed out from Sam's eyes.

She thought about Alex, in how she met him when he was still a young boy in school. He was still a boy to her, but even from a moment's glance, she could tell that he had grown so much in these past three years. The past four years, from when Testament first began life from the suburbs of San Francisco.

Four years since they came to the fold as Legacy, and she was right there when they changed their name. And now she had gotten their very first live album: it awaited her in her bedroom as if it taunted her from the darkness.

A legacy in its own rite.

And she knew that she would be near them once again come the summer time. But she returned to the journal to make that drawing of herself as a little girl. Through her tears, she made more markings that collected into the shape of something new. She had no idea as to how he looked as a child himself, but she knew the little pearl of gray hadn't made its grand entrance yet. That thick jet black hair and those big deep eyes that seemed to swallow her whole, even from the grains of paper, even from the softness of childhood.

She thought about the hug he had given her at his birthday party. Soft like a young boy still.

And yet she couldn't bear the thought of leaving Joey behind. To leave him there in upstate New York to his own devices. But then again, he had that guitar with him, and he had all manner of friends still within range of him, and he had his band as well.

His band.

Scott burst into her mind then, as did Dan Lilker. They had started Anthrax themselves, and yet they both had departed from their places. By some dark magic, Anthrax had become Joey's band almost overnight. He was the heart and soul for sure, but he had come into the fold well after they had started and lifted off of the ground. It wasn't like Alex, who had come into the fold with Testament right after their start and then watched them go forth.

To think Joey had been inherited a whole band from Scott all because of something that he did and something that Scott had dismissed time and time again. Something about it made her squirm in her seat a bit.

Granted, Joey was her boyfriend, and she knew that no matter what happened with Anthrax or with him, that she had to stand behind him on it, something that she had picked up from being with Cliff. But nothing about his position in the band spoke to her about it being his band, however. A stranger in a strange land there when it pertained to him. She couldn't help but compare the whole experience with Testament, either, the other quintet that was still a quintet themselves.

Chuck stood on the stage with his microphone stand and played it like he would a guitar, but at least that was part of the whole deal with them. She hadn't seen him pick up a guitar from someone who was obviously the opposite of him and then go forth with it out of sheer spite. She could hope all she wanted with Joey, but he had to come to his senses about his interaction with Alex at some point in the future. It was only fair to him, and it was only fair to Joey himself.

But on the other hand, she recalled as to how miserable Joey was without a guitar at his helm. She wanted him to be away from the alcohol, away from the drugs. She wanted him to excel as the true genuine artist she knew he was meant to be, that he had tucked away all by the constraint of time itself. He had to continue on with the guitar, and he had to continue on with Anthrax, with them as a four piece rather than a massive quintet like Testament or even Death Angel.

But he also had to come back down to earth. The kindness was within him: she could feel it, and she did in fact feel it with him. To brush away the contradictions like she brushed away tears, and she could perhaps crack the code with him. To dilute his venom like she would with watercolor and paint with it upon her canvas for all the world to see, and so she could say that she had danced with Joey Belladonna and gave him art.

She brushed away more tears as she completed the remainder of the two children on the page before her, the drawing of herself and the drawing of Alex. Two twin children, even though they weren't even a little bit related to one another.

If only there was a way in which she could contact him and not through the fan club only. He had showed to her those fleeting moments, those little nuggets, those glimpses to what resided behind those deep eyes. But much like with Joey, therein resided something more that he wasn't showing her. There was more to Alex than she had given him credit for, and more than Joey had given him credit for.

She then raised her head from the journal and she glanced back at Genie, who had curled up into a tight bun on the top of the couch and went to sleep.

Marla wouldn't be home for at least another half an hour.

She peered out the door to the porch, at the buildings across the street and the sliver of harbor beyond that. So much to New York she hadn't seen yet, and so much she hadn't done yet, but she wanted to do it all right then and there. She could feel the clock ticking, the end of the day coming. The end was upon her, just like how Cliff said it would be when he set out for the last time into Sweden. Beyond the drapes, beyond the veil, beyond the darkness.

To live in the great unknown and only find herself in a single small pinprick of it, but something else called her back. Even though she had pitched the tent herself there in Hell's Kitchen with Marla, the past called her back. The past to make peace with the present and ultimately the future.

Maybe it was in fact time to head on back home after all, but then again she had so much at her every whim and desire. There was no way she could leave now, but she also had to leave. To go with Bill to California and to be there for her mother and her father both as they sorted things out between them, and to find out more of the secrets they had kept from her all these years. Maybe it was time to head on back home, to be closer to her parents.

To be closer to the other side of the scene.

To be closer to Cliff again.

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