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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Title: Meat.

Pairing: Yandere!Ayato x Reader (Genshin).

Word count: 4.5k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Branding/Burning, Prolonged Imprisonment, Forced Marriage, Possessive Behavior, Descriptions of Gore, Implied Stalking, Mentions of Pregnancy, and Suicidal Ideation. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You always thought you would wear red on your wedding day.

It was a family tradition – passed down with dutiful care for as long as anyone could imagine. Your grandmother had given her dress to your mother who had gifted it to you, her only child, on your eighteenth birthday, years before you would so much as think about getting something as permanent as marriage. Still, you safeguarded it with a religious devotion, never going more than a week without laying it out to check for signs of moths or mold. When you found yourself on a boat set on a course for Inazuma and could bring nothing but what could fit in the space underneath your bunk, her dress was the only item you truly could not bear to leave behind.

It was one of the few things Ayato let you keep, when he first brought you to his estate. He hadn’t wanted to, but he’d known that you’d throw yourself off the nearest cliff if anything ever happened to that dress. You still would, if he so much as touched it without your permission.

The kimono you were being fitted for now was not red. The fine silk was pure white, the detailed embroidery along the hems and sleeves dark blue and bright, shining gold. The symbol of his archon glowed violet on the swell of the train – meant to appease the other factions of the tri-commission who protested when Ayato announced his intent to not only marry a commoner, but a foreigner. You hated that embellishment most of all, more than the sickly way his colors crawled over your body, more than the irritating smoothness of his favored silks where they hugged against your form and groped at your skin. It marked you as a tool, something to be used to one end or another. It marked you as a sacrifice – and an unwanted one, at that.

“Just as exquisite as I knew you’d be,” Ayato announced, his voice strong and unabashed. You’d begged him not to, but he’d insisted on sitting in on your appointment, making sure you couldn’t correct seamstress or overrule any of the choices he’d made on your behalf. The tailor hummed as she fastened a temporary sash around your midriff, tight enough to press uncomfortably against your ribs. If you needed to cry on your wedding day (which, in all likelihood, you would), it would have to be loosened. “How do you like it?”

You hated it. You despised it. You wanted to claw it apart with your own pristine nails, separate each thread and seam with your very own teeth. You would’ve set yourself on fire just to see it turned to ash that much sooner.

“It’s perfect.” Your own voice sounded distant, distorted. There was no façade of sincerity. He knew as well as you did that there was nothing he could force onto you that you wouldn’t loathe, and you knew that any word uttered as to your hatred for him outside of the privacy of your shared bedroom would result in a collection of fresh rope burns to decorate your wrists, the better half of a night spent bent over his knee. “So long as it pleases you, my lord.”

You dropped your eyes to the floor, attempting to spare yourself what suffering you could, but your resistance didn’t matter; you could hear the sharpness of his smile, picture the way his head tilted to the side as he basked in his own self-satisfaction as he went on, addressing the tailor. “If there’s a veil, you can get rid of it.”

You didn’t think you would ever get used to the way his voice seemed to grate when he was happy with himself.

“I think my heart might give out if I’m not able to see my beautiful fiancé’s lovely smile.”

After meeting Ayato, you began to dream in red.

It was more of a pink, at first – during the first few weeks of his courtship, when the extent of his intrusive affection was a few dendrobiums left on your doorstep and a lingering glance as the handsome young commissioner passed your stall during his weekly stroll through the city market. For a short while, after his possessive habits began to rear their head and you were able to catch his guards in your peripheral more often than not, your subconscious was tinted a near-violent shade of scarlet, the kind that would leave you drenched in your own sweat and half-suffocated by the time you forced yourself to wake up. Recently, since he announced your engagement, they’d taken on a darker shade; choking velvets and deep crimsons blurring the distorted setting as Ayato’s faceless body moved on top of you, as his mouth unhinged and his lashing tongue dragged you down his waiting throat. On your worst nights, he’d tear you apart with his hands, first, divide you into neat, orderly pieces that he could slip past his lips and savor one at a time, one after another, until there was nothing left of you. He’d always preferred you in your most consumable form.

It was ironic, really, considering just how little red he let seep into your waking life. Maybe you had a deficiency; like a pregnant woman craving fish to make up for a lack of calcium. The closest you got to red from the doorway to his study were a few cherry blossoms fluttering past the window, their color dulled by age and their tree nearly stripped bare by the approaching winter. He looked away from his paperwork as you shrugged past the screen door, his pale eyes lighting up as he saw the tea tray in your hands. It was Thoma’s handiwork, but you doubted Ayato cared. He wanted to see you in the role of a caretaker, playing out the part he wrote for you to the best of your limited acting skills. What happened behind the curtain was none of his concern.

“To what do I owe the honor?” he asked as you set the tray on his desk. “I can’t remember the last time you visited me on your own.”

You flashed him a small smile. “Can’t I dote on my soon-to-be husband freely?”

He visibly straightened at the word ‘husband’, a familiar zeal infecting his expression. There was a quirk to his grin, a light tap to his thigh, and the tea went ignored as you obediently fell into his lap, your legs hanging over the side of his chair as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you snug against him. If he was a monster, he’d be one with a thousand hands and a million fingers; he couldn’t seem to go a full minute without clutching at your hips, groping at your chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a deep, relieved sigh. “Husband,” he repeated back to you, all spellbound awe and deceiving wonder. “Archons, I can’t wait to be your husband.”

You wondered, sometimes, if it was his childhood that made him the way he was. After so many years of loneliness, so many tiny disappointments and frigid betrayals, you could only imagine he’d be eager to grab the first warm body he could and refuse to let you go. But, he let Ayaka come and go as she pleased, and seemed to take a certain delight in sending Thoma off on long-winded, far-flung errands. Whatever cruelty his upbringing had bred, it was clearly reserved for you.

His hand slid underneath the slit of your yukata, his breath turning hot and unpleasant against your collarbone, and you drew back with an airy laugh. “I do have an ulterior motive,” you admitted, hoping his curiosity would offset his insatiability, if only for a few seconds. “It’s about my wedding dress.”

“The breathtaking and priceless dress I’m having made by the nation’s most talented tailors so that all of Inazuma will know that I’m marrying the most beautiful person in Teyvat?” He raised his head, clicking his tongue. “What about it?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you said, because he wouldn’t listen to you if you didn’t and you needed him to listen to you. “It’s just— I’m such a long way from home, and I know my family won’t be able to come, but—” You cut yourself off, swallowing back the bile that threatened to spoil your sweet smile. “I was hoping we’d be able to incorporate my mother’s dress, somehow. If it’s not too late.”

It wasn’t. You’d been tracking the progress of his tailors meticulously, counting down the days until your wedding like a prisoner waiting for their execution date, and if it was one of his whims, another row of bedding added onto the sleeves or a new embroidery pattern worked onto the train, you knew that there’d be all the time in the world to make any adjustments he asked for. Still, his smile wavered, a brief sigh slipping past his lips as he shook his head. “My love,” The petname lulled off of his tongue as if it’d been coated in sugar and syrup and all the worst things you could think of. “That’s quite the risk to take. The poor thing’s so old, it might fall apart as soon as the tailor’s needle touches it.”

He'd been crueler, before – called the dress a rag as he looked at you with disdain-tinted pity, swore that your reliance on the filthy relic must’ve been caused by some inherent failure of your homeland – but your heart still clenched just a little tighter in your chest at his veiled disdain. “I’d like to try, at least.” Your hands curled around his collar, your frown taking on a more pleading note. “Please, my lord?” A pause, a tightened hold. “Please, Ayato?”

It was his given name, loving and tender and so rarely spoken in your voice, that did him in. He relented with an airy groan, letting his head roll forward in faux exasperation. “We’ll see.”

You beamed, but he was too lost in you to notice, already preoccupied with pressing open-mouthed kisses into your shoulders, your neck. The sash of your yukata was drawn loose, your sleeves pulled down to your elbows and your body shifted onto his desk, where he could spread your legs apart and bury his face between them. Your eyes drifted back to the cherry blossoms trickling past the window, but whatever tree they’d been falling from had finally been stripped bare. All you could see was the bright, cloudless sky – blue enough to leave you burnt and begging for a storm.

Two springs ago, the Kamisato Estate had been overrun with finches.

It’d been a comedy of errors, in hindsight. Ayaka had taken up a fondness for a new kind of flower – one native to Sumeru, introduced to her by an outlander with golden hair and knowing eyes. Thoma, the miracle worker that he was, quickly found a way to propagate it in the estate’s garden, and within the month, little violet blossoms had consumed all that they could reach despite the best efforts of the gardeners to keep them in-check. It would’ve been a delightful problem to have on its own, but the peak of the infestation happened to align with an annual migration of a type of finch that happened to hold a particular shining for a plant with a similar shape and color and— well, anyone could’ve guessed what happened next.

It was a nightmare for Thoma and the other groundskeepers and, since Ayato was staying in the city on business, paradise for you. You spent your days in the courtyard, showing the servants’ children how to braid crowns out of vines and press flowers between the pages of books stolen from Ayato’s personal library. You and Ayaka fed seeds to the red-crowned invaders and coaxed them close enough to pet and sketch, as little talent as you had for the latter, and she listened as you rambled excitedly about the crane-headed whistles you used to make every summer for a very wealthy ornithologist with very slippery fingers. She was just as lonely as her brother, albeit significantly less deranged, and you – trapped, isolated, desperate you – were the perfect victim for her. The two of you were never quite friends, but you came close that spring.

And then, Ayato returned. The flowers were uprooted, the children sent back to their chores, and the finches driven away with nets and stones and salt. You sobbed for hours the day the final flock left, and by means of consolation, Ayato presented you with a blue-speckled wren in a cage of pure silver, silk flowers bound to the bars with yellow ribbons as a reminder of your lost haven. To this day, you still aren’t sure if he meant it to be as cruel of a gift as it was.

You made it all of two days before risking another month spent shackled to Ayato’s bed and sneaking past the guards posted at the estate’s frontmost gates, the golden cage tucked against your chest. You released it in the woods, somewhere with plenty of tree cover and places to hide while it remembered how to be a wild creature, and watched with a smile as it fluttered past the cage’s door and into the open air, eventually landing on the leaf-littered ground.

It hopped all of three tiny steps before a fox emerged from the underbrush and swallowed it whole.

“Are you still with us, love?”

You should’ve gone limp. You should’ve acted as if the pain had gotten to you. You should’ve pretended you were dead to the world and that you couldn’t feel his cock languidly thrusting into you and that you’d gone numb to the searing iron slowly cooling into against the small of your back but, for as resentful as your mind was to him, your body was entirely subservient to Ayato. You tried to respond verbally, and when your voice caught in your throat, you forced yourself to nod, the motion small and shaky. Ayato rewarded you with a breathy chuckle, a fleeting touch to the curve of your spine. A hundred pinpricks of purified agony accompanied his touch.

The silver brand had been commissioned from the finest metal crafters in Inazuma City, made to resemble the warped camellia that was the Kamisato Clan’s crest, and you let out an agonized scream as Ayato drew it back and pressed a calloused thumb into the tender patch of burnt skin. “You always do make such pretty noises for me.” He circled the shape of the white-hot bloom, drawing out another ragged whimper. “It’s a shame I only get to hear them when you misbehave.”

You wanted to apologize, to beg for his forgiveness, but try as you might, you couldn’t seem to remember what you’d done wrong. You hadn’t tried to run away. You hadn’t talked to any of the servants. You hadn’t done anything aside from smile and sit beside him as he spoke with the head of another clan – an older man whose eyes burnt into you for the entirety of their brief conversation. As far as you could tell, he was just a particularly shameless nobleman trying to decipher the curiosity that was the Yashiro Commissioner’s reclusive bride, but Ayato hated letting other men gawk at you at the best of times. Such prolonged exposure would’ve surely brought out the worst of his possessive habits.

You felt something tighten in your chest, catch in your throat, but you only realized you were crying when Ayato’s lips ghosted over your cheek, the gentleness of the gesture quickly replaced with the brutality of his fingers tangled in your hair, your head forced down and into the plush of his bed. You body threatened to collapse, but his free hand fell to your hip, keeping your back arched and your ass raised as he ground lazily into your cunt, in no rush to put you out of your suffering. “I think,” he groaned, lust heavy in his voice. “We’re going to have a big family. Half a dozen kids, at least.”

You beat your fists against the mattress, shaking your head violently, and he twitched inside of you. “They’ll have your eyes,” he went on, a sadistic delight in his voice. “And my swordsmanship, and I’ll love them as much as I love you.” He paused, the head of his cock scraping against something deep and vulnerable inside of you. “Well, almost as much as I love you. As much as I can.”

You tried to struggle, to get away from him, but Ayato held you close, his grip as unrelenting as his slow, aching tempo. With a calculated sort of grace, he leaned towards you, slotting his chest against your back and bringing his mouth to the shell of your ear. “You don’t think it’s too soon to start, do you, darling?”

All you could do was try and fail to scream in response.

The first gift Ayato ever gave to you was a necklace the color of freshly split sapphires.

He insisted that you not think of it as a present, that you consider it little more than justified repayment for an item from your stall broken by the clumsy fingers of one of his couriers, but it was a present, it couldn’t be anything else. His courier had paid for the ruined pottery days prior, and yet, he’d sought you out in person to apologize with that sun-bright smile, to let his fingertips brush against yours as he passed you a satin-lined case with a perfect, ocean-blue velvet choker tucked safely inside. It was a beautiful thing, embellished with silver and dripping with transparent crystals, but you’d liked the color most of all. It’d reminded you of Ayato, and there’d been a time when you treasured any excuse to think of him.

You’d worn it the first time you saw each other properly, too. The occasion wasn’t formal enough to warrant something so needlessly extravagant, but you couldn’t seem to stop smiling for the entirety of your brief-meal-turned-seven-hour-conversation, and as your night came to an end, perched on the edge of a cliff underneath the Raiden Shogun’s palace and breathless from laughing, he told you that if you weren’t careful, he might just fall in love with you. You’d told him that, if he waited a few more days, you might fall in love with him, too.

You’d been wearing the same necklace when he broke your heart for the first time. It’d been an overcast day, the sky a clouded blueish grey and the shogun’s fury just barely audible in the far distance. He told you, with that perfect grin and those lonely eyes, that it really was terribly improper for the lover of a commissioner to run some meager stall in a sweat-soaked market, that he owed you better than a cramped room on the outskirts of the city where you had to wade through hours of farmland to reach anything of importance. When you said that you enjoyed your work, that you adored the back-breaking labor of your craft and loved having neighbors who would leave baskets of cabbage and lavender melon on your doorstep in exchange for misshapen cups and off-pattern bowls, he laughed as if you’d said the funniest thing in the world and cupped your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss deep enough and sweet enough to make you forget whether or not you’d agreed with him.

You were brought to the Kamisato estate less than a full month later and had yet to leave since.

The final garment was delivered two weeks before your wedding day. You watched from your pavilion as Ayato met the courier at the estate’s gates, accepting a large package wrapped in scarlet silk and brushing off the guards’ attempts to carry it on his behalf. You were embroidering, that day – a delicate, time-consuming art that Ayato praised in comparison to the messy, unpredictable medium of clay. You loathed the monotony of it, the strictness of the patterns, but it meant Ayato was less likely to break your fingers when he found you scrounging away spare mora in the hopes of some perpetually eventual escape and so, you embroidered.

“My mother’s dress,” you said, as soon as he was close enough to hear you. The wooden hoop was forgotten in your lap as you stared up at him, hope written clearly across your expression. “Do you know what they did with it?”

His grin widened. “Eager, are we?” You nodded frantically, and he added, “If I’d didn’t know better, I’d say you care about a dress more than your own betrothed.”

He settled next to you, the package laid across his thighs. He moved to unwrap it, then pivoted – his attention shifting as his gloved hand took hold of your wrist. He’d been touching you more delicately, lately, something you couldn’t help but link with his long-brewing but only recently materialized desire for children. It was a problem you elected to deal with later on, after the wedding, if only for your own inability to process just how horrific of a problem it was.

(There was a part of you which knew, even before your conscious mind could bear to accept it, that you would never be able to love something he put inside of you. Ayato’s obsession was enduring, able to feed off of nothing and contort reality to suit its needs, but your love had always been a rational thing, bound to end the moment it became inconvenient to house. Your love for your homeland died with your mother. Your love for Ayato died with your abduction. And, whatever love you could’ve had for a child— no, a shackle would die the moment the foul creature was born. You could hold no affection for a child that was made in Ayato’s image, that would be cleaved from your flesh for the sake of his happiness, and if by some miracle you did love the monstrosity, then you could only assume it would be because you’d abandoned all hope for yourself. Both futures seemed equally grim.)

“Ayato,” you simpered, leaning against his side. “Please?”

He rolled his eyes, playing soft as he handed you the oversized package. “It should be wrapped separately. I said I didn’t want to see the finished product until the day-of.”

Your hands shook as you undid the many knots. A smaller bundle sat within, separate from the tumor of ivory fabric you forced yourself not to linger on, and you took it up with a desperate sort of keenness, practically trembling as you tore it open with no regard for the integrity of its packaging. The crimson silk was torn away to reveal—

Blue.

Dark, never-ending blue.

“The color came out so beautifully. I’m glad you protested the way you did – otherwise, I might’ve never known we were missing something on our wedding day.” This time, you didn’t fight as he tore the remains of your mother’s dress out of your hands, holding out a sash the shade of apathetic night. You searched for something familiar, for something you could use to ground yourself, but it was absent of all recognizability, desecrated to the point of being all-but alien to you. “It had to be dyed, of course, but I’ve been told the process only cost it a moment of its integrity. The tailors—”

You blinked, but your vision remained black when you opened your eyes. Your body was lurching forward, and then you were in Ayato’s arms, limp and buzzing. Ayato was laughing, as shocked as you were drained, and you made no effort to pull away from him. “My poor little wife. I know – the anticipation’s almost too much to bear.” He pressed a kiss into your forehead. “Why don’t we spend some time together, like we used to? I think I can push my obligations aside for the day, considering the occasion.”

You didn’t respond, but he gathered into his arms regardless. He had always seemed to prefer you as dead weight.

You did end up in red on your wedding day, but you doubted you’d be getting married, anymore.

His own sword slid and out of his back with a wet, gripping noise – only interrupted when the blade slipped in your hands and hit bone rather than viscera. Blood splattered against the white of your kimono with every plunge, staining the susceptible fabric easily and leaving you struggling to keep your feet underneath you as the puddle of scarlet grew deeper, as the screen walls began to drip and your lungs filled with copper and iron. Ayato, the ever-worried lover that he was, had come to check on you before the ceremony, fussing over your blank eyes and the tear-tracks that had ruined your make-up twice, by then. He’d been concerned, but giddy, unable to keep himself away from you despite his many promises of tradition and decor.

He'd made it three, maybe four minutes before beginning to toy with the clasps running down your chest.

You’d taken up the first thing you saw – a hand mirror gilded with shining rose gold – and brought it down on his head.

That, on its own, would’ve left him with a scar and little else, but you’d worked quickly, drawing the sword from its sheath on his belt and bringing it down into anything that seemed vital, anything you could reach, anything that bled calming, soothing red. He stopped moving on the fifth strike, his uncalled upon Vision going dull on the sixth, and on the seventh, you heard someone call for the guards.

You waited until you could hear their footsteps before falling to your knees, bringing the point of your blade to your stomach and clenching your eyes shut, praying to any archon who would listen that you’d hit something they couldn’t be healed, that they’d lend you a more merciful fate than another jail cell, another lifetime of entrapment. You plunged the blade into your stomach and—

And were met with little more than a cold, blunt sensation and a bottomless pit of despair.

You opened your eyes, your gaze flickering from your ice-coated blade to the doorway of your dressing room, now occupied by Kamisato Ayaka, one hand raised and her Vision pulsing at her side. Guards rushed in on either side of her, grabbing at your shoulders and wrists, but your stare never left Ayaka, her parted lips, her flushed cheeks.

Her bright eyes, just as blue and just as lonely as her brother’s had ever been.

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 11 months ago

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Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Jealousy always turns into teasing and banter between you and Steve with him seemingly always able to fluster you. You're finally able to get the best of him, catching him in a very compromising position.

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Pet names. Reader is a tease. Jealous reader. Sub-ish Steve. Semi-public sex. Oral(male receiving). Unprotected P in V. Creampie.

WC: 2.9K

It's a slow Saturday afternoon by Family Video standards.

You were glaring at Steve between one of the shelves instead of restocking.

He was shamelessly flirting with yet another customer instead of actually working as you looked on with annoyance.

Her blonde hair is pulled into a high ponytail, batting her eyelashes and twirling her bubble gum around her finger before placing it back between her glossed lips as his eyes watched her intently.

You grumbled as you turned back around, shoving the VHS tape clutched in your hand back to its place on the shelf as you heard her laughter followed by, “Oh Steve, you are so funny!”

“He's not that funny, Tiffany.” You mumbled under your breath. “He's used that same joke on at least ten other people this week.”

“What was that, Princess?” You jumped at the sound of his voice, as the rest of the tapes went flying out of your hands hitting the floor as you whirled around.

His elbow was propped against the shelf next to you, much closer than you anticipated when you turned.

“Fuck, Harrington.” You clutched your chest. “Warn someone next time.”

He chuckled as he bent down to pick up the fallen items.

“I thought you heard me walk up. It's not my fault.” He shrugged, standing back up to full height placing everything on the cart in front of him.

“All I heard was obnoxious laughter coming from that bimbo over there.” Looking away from him, missing the way his eyes lit up, chancing a glance at your ass before his tongue darted out licking his lips.

“Princess, if you're jealous just say so.” You scoffed, before he lowered his voice daring to step a little closer to you. “Then, maybe we could do something about it.”

Your breath hitched, but you couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing what his words did to you so, you decided instead to play along. Give him a little taste of his own teasing.

“Steve?” You turned, inching closer to him. A flash of shock passed over his face when you placed your hands on his chest moving up to toy with the collar of his polo before looking up at him through your lashes, giving him your best doe eyes. You watched him gulp, releasing a sharp breath before replying.

“Yeah, princess?” Voice coming out low and soft. No hint of teasing unlike the way he usually hissed the nickname, hesitantly he placed his hands on your hips. His touch sent a spark through you, but you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing.

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, as his eyes darted to your lips.

You stood on the tips of your toes, nose grazing his cheek, finally letting your lips ghost the shell of his ear as you spoke.

“In your dreams, big boy.” You grinned, pulling back and giggling as he released the hold he had on you. You didn't look back, pushing the cart down the aisle leaving him there to gawk after you.

You heard him groan and hiss under his breath before quickly darting toward the back into Keith's office.

You laughed again, finally getting the best of Steve Harrington.

You hummed, putting away the returns until you realized it had been at least ten minutes since he disappeared.

You smirked to yourself, steady steps leading to the back of the store stopping short when your hand landed on the knob, but it wouldn't budge.

“Steve, are you okay in there?” You sang, shit eating grin plastered across your face as you knocked.

“Give me a few, I'm fine.” It came muffled but his voice sounded a little strained.

“You sure about that?” You laughed out, suddenly getting a devious idea. You'd been pinning after him for months, though he was seemingly oblivious. Jealousy got the best of you, turning into anger fueled banter. Steve thought you hated him which was far from the truth.

Quickly jogging to the front, you locked the door, turning the closed sign around, and grabbing the spare key beside the register.

You didn't warn him, shoving the key into the lock as it clicked open. Pushing it slowly open, until he came into view sat behind the desk.

His head was thrown back, face flushed with his cheeks the prettiest shade of pink. He was panting, pouty lips parted into an “o”. Your eyes traveled down to where his pants and boxers were shoved down his thighs. His hand fisted around his thick cock, stroking furiously at his ample length.

He raised his head, locking eyes with you as the door slammed against the back wall catching his attention.

Shock overtook his features, as he sat up trying to hide himself under the desk, but it was far too late. You'd seen everything and the image of his massive dick would forever be seared into your brain.

“Fuck, what’re you doing back here?” He sputtered out, shoving his now aching cock down past your line of vision.

You didn't say anything, stepping further into the room, shutting the door behind you in case any customers tried to look through the front windows.

“Need some help with that, Stevie?” You smiled, devilish and sweet, cocking your head toward him.

“Wh-what?” He rushed out, brows furrowed. His chestnut locks stuck to his forehead from the thin sheen of sweat he'd accumulated.

“Do you need some help with that?” Enunciating each word more slowly, as if that would help his comprehension.

His mouth parted slightly, before snapping it shut. You'd managed to render him speechless.

You threw the key on the desk, as his eyes followed your movements.

Slowly, you shucked the family video vest off your shoulders, letting it hit the ground.

Your hands slowly drifting to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head suddenly glad you had opted for your soft pink, lacy bra that morning.

When your eyes drift back to his, he's slack jawed eyes roving over any exposed skin he can find.

“You ok, Stevie?” Coming out a little snarky, knowing you finally have the upper hand, shaking your hips a little as you rounded the desk.

You planted your foot on the desk chair beside his thigh, pushing in until his lap slowly rolled back into view.

His cock was long, and thick with a ruddy tip making your mouth water at the sight. You'd heard the rumors but seeing it in person was altogether a different experience.

You didn't give him time to think, placing your hands on either side of the chair arms caging him in.

He sucks in a sharp breath when you close in, face to face. Noses barely grazing.

“You've got a really pretty cock, Stevie. Anyone ever tell you that?” You say, lips barely grazing his as he releases a soft whimper.

He shakes his head no, as your hand trails across his exposed abdomen. Fingertips carding through the sparse hair from his belly button leading down.

He took in a shuddered breath as you got closer to his aching need, kicking up at the very thought of you touching him.

“That's a real shame because you have a really pretty cock.” You said, wrapping your hand around as much of him that you could, eliciting another whimper from his parted lips.

“Oh fuck, you don't have to… shit…” he hissed, his eyes closing at the sensation.

“What if I want to? That, ok?” You breathed out.

He nodded furiously, as you moved your hand up his length, thumb collecting the precum at the top of his cock as you slid it effortlessly at the head back down.

“Think Tiffany would do this for you, Steve?” You asked, lowering yourself down, laying your head on his lap just inches from where he wanted you the most. You turned, planting a kiss to his thigh as he bucked upward.

You decided to take a little mercy on him, flattening your tongue running it up the underside of his shaft.

“Oh fuck…” He moaned out, taking him completely by surprise wrapping your soft, supple lips around his head sucking softly before taking him fully into your mouth.

You hum around his taste, taking the time to look up through your lashes at his fucked-out expression. He's never looked so beautifully wrecked as you begin to bob your head, stroking with your hand what you couldn't fit down your throat.

He reaches for the back of your head, fingers raking up, grasping the loose hair at the nape of your neck.

“Hey, hey” he coos. “You don't have to do all that, princess.” That cocky, Harrington demeanor breaking through, pulling off with a slight pop.

“Too much for you, big boy?” Flashing him a grin, flicking your tongue across his head. His hips suddenly canting upward, chasing your mouth.

“No, shit. It's great… I just thought…” He stuttered out.

“Use your words, Stevie.” You chuckled, rising over him, deftly reaching behind undoing your bra.

The straps began to slide down your arms as your bare chest comes into view. He sucked in a sharp breath, as he looks you over.

“Fuck Princess, you're perfect.” Licking his lips as he let his eyes trail over your breasts.

“Mmmm, yeah Stevie?” Your hands roamed over them making eye contact with him as you do; your nipples stiffen with the touch.

“I have an idea. I'll let you fuck me if you're a good boy. But you have to follow directions.”

He swallows again, nodding, “Yeah, I can do that. I like that idea.”

“Stay right there.” You tell him, as you begin to shimmy your underwear down your legs, leaving your skirt on. They pool at your feet as you step to the side leaving them behind.

No regard for Keith's stuff scattered across the desk, you push it out of the way, as some things scatter to the floor.

Steve has a perfect view of your ass from his position behind you making him groan.

You quickly turn around, hopping up on the desk, spreading your legs slowly for him to see your bare pussy already dripping with arousal.

“Fuck,” he hisses out, wrapping his hand back around his cock searching for a little relief.

“Nuh uh. Keep your hands off. Eyes on me.” You instruct. He does as he's told as your hand travels down. Your fingertips glide through your folds, gathering some slick before circling your clit and releasing a little exaggerated moan.

“Oh, Steve, it feels so good.” You watch through hooded eyes as his cock bobs on its own. He's gripping the chair arms so tight, his knuckles are turning white, and you've barely just started. You knew he wasn't going to last, now it was just a game to see how long it would take before he decides to fuck you senseless.

You toy with your clit a few more moments before dropping to your entrance. Having him watch you was sending your body into overdrive. You quickly inserted a finger, as he leaned forward trying to gain a better look.

“I bet your fingers would feel so much better than mine.” Arching your back, as you insert another. “Yours are so long, and thick. Mmmm… fuck.”

“Yeah? Want me to use my fingers?” Finally finding his voice, eyes trained to where yours keep disappearing inside your tight cunt.

You nod, continuing to fuck yourself, trying to remain in control but you were on the verge of being pushed over the edge already. You threw your head back, your lower belly tightening with each pass and brush of your hand.

You suddenly felt his hand wrap around your ankle, as your eyes shot open. He had made his way over to you, standing between your parted thighs. You were losing your resolve.

“I'm so close, Steve.” You breathed out. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Come on, Princess. You've got it. Keep fucking your fingers, come f’me.” He urged you on, as his hands took up residency on your thighs pushing them further apart.

“Mmmm, fuck Steve.” You whined out, that coil tightening. He eased his thumb up, suddenly grazing your clit. The sensation has your hips bucking upwards as you chase your high.

“Yeah? Keep going.” He sang out, trying not to think about the way his dick was aching, longing to be where your fingers are but he wanted to see you come undone.

Your legs start to tremble, as he begins drawing circles against your puffy clit. He ducks his head down to your chest, drawing a pert nipple into his mouth sucking harshly.

“Shit, Steve! I'm gonna cum.” You huffed out as that coil within you finally snapped, your back hitting the desk, legs closing around your hands as your cunt spasmed around your fingers.

“Fuck, Princess. That was so fucking hot.” He said, as you were trying to catch your breath. You grinned, raising your head slightly to look back at him.

He was lazily stroking his cock, as your thighs parted, beckoning him forward. Coming to slot himself back between your thighs he eased his ministrations momentarily.

“Let me grab a condom,” saying as he reached down into his pants. You gripped his shirt, pulling him forward as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

His cock nestled itself against your core as you both moaned out in unison.

“You don't have to. Fuck me, Steve!” You carded your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You watched his eyes go wide; pretty sure his brain was short circuiting at the thought.

“Fuck, are you sure?” Asking, as his hands drift down the plush of your thighs, dragging you more toward the edge of the desk.

“I'm sure, Stevie.” You nod, as he brings his hand between you, gripping himself to line up with your dripping entrance. You were aching, your first orgasm doing nothing to quell the need to be filled.

His head caught, causing your back to arch into him as he pushes ever so slowly into you. He was big, the stretch was already overwhelming you causing you to close your eyes, as your fingertips dig into his shoulders.

He watches the way he slowly disappears into you, the way your walls were sucking him could almost push him over the edge.

“Fuck, honey. So, tight.” He hisses out, as he finally pushes all the way in, gripping your hips with a bruising force.

The pinch of him filling you to the brim began to gradually subside into a dull ache.

You looked up at him through your lashes, gaining his attention from where the two of you were now connected.

“Steve, please move.” He nodded, nearly removing himself entirely before snapping his hips back into yours with ease.

“Oh fuck,” you hiss out, as he begins to set a pace that has you both moaning out.

The desk starts to move with each thrust, as papers, pens and loose items begin to fall from the edges.

The small office echoing with the sounds of skin slapping skin as his thrusts become harsher, faster trying to get you both there.

“Think you got one more, honey?” He asked, voice sugary sweet.

You nod, as he once again moves to toy with your clit.

“Come on honey, I wanna see ya’ fall apart on my cock.” He grunts out, trying to stave off his own release.

The pressure had been building, but his words sent you careening over the edge. It was a shock to you both as your cunt clamped down around him. You came with a scream of his name, locking your ankles behind his back, pulling him further into you.

He had no choice, the way your pussy was pulsing around him. He felt his balls tighten, thrusting once more harshly before he began painting your inner walls with his sticky spend.

“Fuck, honey.” He hissed, looking up at your blissed out expression. He moved his hand, tucking a piece of hair from your face before smashing his lips to yours. It was sweet, and slow. So different from the way he fucked you moments ago.

You kissed each other until you had to break apart for air, panting in each other's space as he spoke.

“Does this mean you don't hate me anymore?”

You giggled, lightly batting his shoulder.

“You're an idiot, Steve Harrington. I never hated you.”

“Well, I…” His train of thought was quickly interrupted when someone started banging on the door.

“Hey dinguses! You better not be doing what I think you're doing. I eat my lunch in there!” Robin blurted out as you two let out stifled giggles.

“Uh, sorry Rob. We'll clean up.” You sang out.

“Ewww! You're both lucky I love you so much!” You heard her groan, as she marched off.

He slid himself from you, as you released a small hiss. He softly rubbed your thigh before mumbling a quick apology.

You quickly gathered your clothes, putting them on as he straightened himself and the desk up.

“Hey, you want to go out after work? Grab a bite to eat? Movie at my place?” He asked, hand gravitating toward the back of his head, smoothing his hair down. A habit he had when he was nervous. “I mean, I know we may have done this a little backwards, but I like you. A lot.”

“So, Steve Harrington is asking me out on a date? I’ll think about it.” You teased, opening the door leaving him to once again gawk after you for the second time today.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader smut #joe keery

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mochinomnoms · 9 months ago

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Gremlin ass yuu who has one of those realistic ass dreams that them and jade actually got together and they still believe when they wake up, so naturally, like a normal person, they see jade and go up to hug him and give him a little kiss on the neck only to get body slammed with J-Brain and everyone else around them is horrified as they realize that they and jade are not in fact, dating

🦩

(screaming and pounding on the floor THAT'S CUTE)

You woke up with a dry mouth and a sore back. Trying to stretch your legs out made a sharp pain run up your leg and lower back.

Ugh, Jade. You were too rough last night…

Turning around to confront said man, you were surprised to see the empty bedside next to you. Like no one had slept there in the first place.

Even more surprising, you were in your room at Ramshackle instead of Jade's dorm room in Octavinelle. He'd been having you stay over more often since he didn't need to share a room with Floyd anymore.

“What the fu…Did he take me back?” You groaned, getting up and out of bed, wincing at the ache in your legs and lower waist. “Why the hell? Ugh, Jaaaade.”

You were still weary eyed as you finally made your way down the steps into the main hallway, turning into the kitchen to get something to drink.

Mmm, maybe an energy drink, that tastes good with lavender right?

You blinked in surprise at Azul, Jade, and Floyd, along with a few other Octavinelle students, were in the hallway entrance and kitchen area. They were carrying some bags of food and paperwork.

It was then you remembered that you agreed to let Azul sell snacks and drink from Mostro Lounge for your carvinal themed haunted house. They were bringing the items to have them ready to go before the gates open this week for the Halloween festivities.

Oh yeah, that must be why Jade brought me back. He's always thoughtful, isn't he.

You were still half asleep when the trio noticed you, waving politely. Though Jade was having his usual excitable thoughts. Something about your pajamas and sleepy face being cute.

Don't you see me in pjs all the time? Silly.

“Good morning, Prefect, how are you?” Azul starting gesturing to the students putting the food products away. “As you see, we've come to help you and your dorm get set up, as agreed.”

“Mm, Shrimpy looks real tired, don't they Jade?” Floyd nudged his brother with his elbow, watching as you walked up to them.

“They do, perhaps they went to bed rather la—”

Jade stopped mid-sentence, shocked into silence as you wrapped your arms around his back, nuzzling into his neck.

“Mmh, sounds good…just put the stuff…wherever.” You tilted your head up to press a kiss against his neck, feeling the way he swallowed as you did.

“Mornin' Jade…you left me…” You tightened your hold on him, though he didn't return your embrace. “…Jade?”

You were just now noticing just how quiet everything had gotten. There was no movement, no sounds, you couldn't even hear anyone's thoughts.

You moved a bit away from Jade to look at everyone with confusion. They were all staring at you, some with mild horror, some with confusion like yours, and Floyd in particular looked ecstatic, eyes darting between you and Jade like he was waiting for sometime to happen.

Azul just gave you a questioning stare as he raised his eyebrow.

“Should we...know something?”

“Whaddya mean?” you mumbled, resting your head against Jade's chest. His heartbeat was going fast, like it was trying to burst out his case.

“When did you two become a thing?” Floyd cooed, giggling as he rocked on his heels.

“You rubbed your eyes again, more alert now as you started answering, We've been together for a ye—”

The sudden feeling of Jade's arms tightly wrapping around your back, and the sudden influx of his thoughts hitting you like a train, brought you back to reality.

DARLING! MY SWEET PEARL! I JUST KNEW THAT YOU LOVED ME BACK!

His grip on you tightened as the sleep suddenly vanished from your body.

“We're together? News to me, my dear.”

Kiss me again, my pearl! You'll let me, won't you? After all, you did it first~

The feeling of Jade's body moving, leaning down to return the favor you gave him, sent the dear of God in you.

“Wait, wait WAIT WAIT!” You shrieked as you shoved Jade away, collapsing backwards as you crawled away. “DREAM! IT WAS A DREAM I HAD A DREAM!”

You felt your entire body go hot, as Floyd started cackling his lungs out. Azul was still in the kitchen, holding his hand to his mouth, hiding his own laughter.

Even Jade looked mildly amused, though you could hear the disappointment in his thoughts.

Ah, I see. How tragic. Though…

Jade's smile grew slightly, as he gave you a sly wink.

Might as well make use of this.

“A dream? Was it a pleasant one?” Jade tilted his head as he watched you grow more flustered with glee. “It must have been, if you were so ready to be affectionate with me. Would you like to recall it for me?”

The contents of your dream were coming back to you like a tidal wave, hot breaths and clothes flying off flashing through your mind as you remembered just how pleasant that dream was.

“NO!” You scrambled up the staircase again on your hands and knees, like a spooked cat, ignoring the cackles coming from behind you.

Oh goood, I'm never living this down.

#mochi asks #🦩 anon #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #ptm #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #KSJDLAKJSLNWEL;OW #suggestive

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smallestapplin · 5 months ago

Text

the heats of a Dhampir

for those unaware, in castlevania SOTN Alucard has a monster form, much like his father, so pair that with vampire's having heats every 4 years and this was born.

Warning! : reader is enby afab, womb fucking, heats, Alucard being a little feral, established relationship, and shifting mid fuck.

minors do not interact!

Alucard's heat is worst than he thought, his mind cloudy, filling with more animalistic thoughts, his body reacting before he has a chance to process the situation. It made him want to avoid you, and trust he has tried, yet his feet move against him, taking him right back to you or to your home.

Your voice and presence like that of a siren calling to him, luring him in to his doom, your scent keeps him intoxicated and under your spell, though you know not of any of his struggles.

He's your loving and doting boyfriend, though you know something is up with his odd behaviors and getting fussy over your bed, filling your room with various food related items and drinks, while forming your blankets and pillows into a circle.

You awake surrounded, and with the blonde brining you yet another odd shiny item, and cuddling against you with low purrs. You jokingly tell him he must've been replace with a crow for a brain, but he doesn't seem to find it as assuming as you do.

You don't question it, just like you don't question him crawling into your now nest like bed, to leave kisses along your exposed neck. You don't question his needy whine as he slides a cold hand up your loose sleep shirt, cupping your tit in a loving squeeze, as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, licking up the collum of your throat.

Silently pleading for your approval.

He can smell your want before even touching your pussy, smell how you're soaking through your panties.

"Adrian...!!" You squeak, but he's moving so fast! It's like a switch flipped in his mind, and all he can think about is ravaging your body, marking you, scenting you, mounting you.

Your panties are gone in a flash with his head buried between your thighs. Your face goes bright red at the sound of him inhaling your heady scent, a smell mixed of your sweat and arousal, it leaves his mind spinning. You toss your head back with a whimper, feeling his inhumanly long tongue rubbing between your folds, licking your clit and then back down to your weeping hole.

It takes everything in him to eat you out first, a sane part of him wanting you at least prepped for the fucking he knows his going to give you. Your pussy twitches watching him hump the bed, just knowing he's so turned on from your own need gets your body hot, your eyes struggling to not roll back just to see how needy he is.

His tongue pushing into you, the pointed tip just brushing relentlessly against your cervix, easily filling you. You grab a hold of his long blonde hair, gripping onto him like a life line as you buck your hips up, trying to grind against his face. His nose pressing perfectly against your clit, letting him easily overwhelm your senses.

"Adrian, Adrian! M'gonna- gonna cum-!!"

You let out a pitiful cry as he rips himself away from you, denying you your orgasm. His face dripping slick and drool, yet he doesn't care, he doesn't even seem to notice. He tears his pants away, tossing the now scraped fabric aside, freeing his aching cock.

You don't get to admire the beautiful sight of him for long before hes already pushing himself into you.

He's usually so much slower, much more loving towards you, but you're excited to see this new feral side of him. It's like you're truly being taken by a monster, just what you've dreamed of.

Alucard's body shakes, his eyes rolling back as he bottoms out, fully sheathed into your warm wet cunt. He doesn't give you a moment to breathe, his hips seemingly having a mind of their own as he ruts into you. Your legs are over his shoulders, with him leaning over you, his hands on either side of your head letting his sharp claw like nails tear into your pillow.

You cling to his biceps, crying out about how good he's making you feel.

"Oohh fuck! Fuck fuck fuuuck! So good, mm, haa! God, you're...you're fucking me so good. Please more, more ruin me!"

The room echoes with the sound of his hips wetly slapping into yours. He can't bare it, you're pleading sends him spiraling, his head feels like it's filled with cotton, he doesn't feel his body twisting and shifting, his form growing larger and larger.

Leathery wings sprouting from his back, curling around you to hide you from the world, his form drawfs you in size. Hands turning more into scaly claws, ripping your pilllow and sheets beneath you. Your eyes widen as the monstrous sight before you as the horns twist on top his head.

But your attention mostly drawn to the pressure in your stomach, feeling his cock growing bigger inside you, matching the new size of him.

You squirm, but with how he has you pinned you can't move.

"Adrain, wait, h-hold on...hnnn! Fuck, t-too big, I can't take it, i-it's too much!"

He grumbles lowly, harshly slamming his cock further into you, his glowing eyes flickering between the new bulge in your stomach and watching how your pussy struggles to accept his new size.

His roar is deafening as you cum, your walls clenching around him desperate to milk him. Your eyes cross, tears streaming down your face. He's fucking your womb, he's so deep!

His long tongue falls frm his open maw, drool dripping onto your chest as he licks it and the sweat off your skin, purring deeply at the taste of you.

His heavy balls smack against your ass, the sheer weight fuck them telling your fucked out mind just how backed up he is, desperate to fill you to the brim.

Cum as many times as you want, he won't be stopping until you take every last drop of his spent.

#smut #spicy #🔞🔞🔞#mdni #adults only!#castlevania alucard #castlevania alucard smut #castlevania alucard x reader smut #castlevania x reader #castlevania x reader smut

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cipheramnesia · 10 months ago

Text

Dr. Stevenson would have had to take Athena when she was a very young child. Maybe four years old, give or take. It could happen so many ways but it would have been so very easy for her to put just a little pressure on one or two people to have CPS take custody of the girl. This is all just a dream, and Athena's whole life after that is one neutral colored room after another with a slightly different ergonomic office chair every few years, and her only solid memory to hold on to is a reflection of light off water. Sand and water, surrounded by big trees with branches all bent heavy and green. A half open, half broken rusty gate clinging onto a couple concrete pillars long bereft of their accompanying wall. Athena would hold onto that for dear life, treasure any little sliver of color from a light blue hoodie to a cheap pair of headband bunny ears to blue and yellow rain-boots. They would have accumulated over the years of the taped on monitors, blood draws, urine samples, hair clippings, annual spinal tap.

Sometimes she'd go days without food, or her room temperature would swing from frigid to boiling, then the big orderly and the phlebotomist with Dr. Stevenson's sharp voice over them all would come in. "Be careful," she'd snap out, slapping off hands that gripped too tight, never once spoken out of love or even empathy. "Don't damage her, we don't know if we'll ever find another one." The concern only spoke of a rare and treasured object, perhaps a Cartier wind up music box. The others calmed her like an animal, "easy girl, just a moment and it's over." Sometimes when there was a new phlebotomist, Athena got a small piece of candy. She never had the same one more than a few months. She'd try to savor the hard lollipop or drop of chocolate and ignore the sound of Dr. Stevenson through the hollow doors, "This subject is on a specialized diet to ensure consistency of results, you are not to bring any such personal items-" and it went on.

Learning math and reading and writing after a fashion, information provided by Dr. Stevenson with grudging irritation, but once in awhile short and tantalizing sidepaths of the personal. "These sides are you, much like you and the light, you control both sides with the shared information. Oh, nevermind. Figure it out yourself." Athena would never know what kind of a monstrosity Dr. Stevenson was building from her blood and their studies, only the day that something went terribly wrong, and Dr. Stevenson didn't come to see her anymore. The time she'd showed the room the light and it hurt Dr. Stevenson, she still came back a few days later, but this time she left and Dr. White started taking care of her. He was much nicer, but wouldn't let her have her room in the dark, and did not think all the work Dr. Stevenson had been doing was very interesting. Sometimes he would talk about Dr. Stevenson's huge promotion with a sure bitterness. He showed up with a younger girl he called Alice.

#girl bites god #long post

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satorusugurugurl · 7 months ago

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hii may i request a pirate! Nanami x mermaid!f!reader?

Iike in the Disney movie "the little mermaid"? I think id be so cute 🥰

If u do this request, thank u ❤

My Lovely Mermaid

Summary: You're a curious mermaid, Nanami Kento is a book loving pirate, a match made in heaven.

Word Count: 2,738

Pairing: Pirate!Nanami Kento x AFABMermaid!Reader

Warnings: mentions of fire, near drowning, nudity, half-burnt (BUT HEALED) Nanami, fluffy goodness!

A/N: I love mermaid au’s, yes I was that girl at the pool asking if people wanted to play mermaids! 🤣 this was so fun, I loved writing for healed half burnt Nanami, I've seen fanart of him, and golly, so pretty.

You have been obsessed with the surface world for as long as you can remember. Humans were strange creatures and carried many strange items on their ships, from a little metal trident to jewels and round circular things with deep holes. They had papers bound together with netting of some kind, and the papers were littered with strange black smudges—weird but fascinating creatures.

You want to learn all about them, ask them what they use the sharp metal things for. Why do they carry trunks full of flat yellow metal? Every time you found yourself exploring a new shipwreck, more questions arose. You desperately wanted someone to answer all of the questions you had.

The only problem was the fact that humans were terrified of your kind. Whenever you’d breach the surface when a ship would pass, all of them would cover their ears, screaming not to listen to your singing. They were convinced that you would drown them. Such a terrible stereotype; you and your kind in these warm waters had never drowned sailors, or anyone else for that matter. Other mermaids in different waters might do that so that you could understand their concerning caution. If one of them would give you a chance, all your dreams would come true.

Little did you know your wish would

Come true on a beautiful summer night.

You had been lounging on some rocks, staring at the little trident you had found and the shipwreck down below. You ran through your damp hair as your tail flipped in the water, splashing the rock below. You were lost in a trance when shouting could be heard in the distance. You sat up, looking to find a red-orange glow in the distance, the lights consuming a ship as black clouds rose. The humans on board the vessel were screaming, jumping off the edge, climbing into smaller boats, and rowing away from the ship that was collapsing in on itself.

You wondered what sort of treasure you would find inside when a man in a small boat began fighting against two other humans trying to hold him back. “Nanami! Nanami! He's still on board, captain!”

“Haibara, stop!” a man with long black hair shouted, holding the man with short brown hair back.“There’s nothing we can do right now!”

“Kento!”

“We’ll circle.” The moonlight overhead shone on hair as white as the shells you collected. “Maybe he jumped off on the other side.”

The smaller boat began rowing around, calling for this ‘Nanami.’ As they turned, you watched a man run to the ship's edge. He looked down at the water. The beam above him cracked and snapped, and the red glow crept up.

“Look out!” you cried as if he could hear you from as far away. “Hey!” attempted to get his attention a second time as the beam began cracking, falling in his direction. “Look out!!” Leave your mouth as the beam snaps, falling towards the man with the color of sunlight.

The man turns to stare as you scream in horror, covering your mouth just as he manages to dodge it. No relief is found as a rope tangles around him, pulling him off the ship and dragging him under the surface. The second he hits it, you’re diving in after him. Your tail frantically moves against the waters as you search for the man. Amongst the ropes, boards of wood, and jewels, you spot the tangled ropes of the man on the ship's edge. Bubbles rose from his mouth and nose, and his eye twitched as he dragged further down.

You wouldn’t allow the ocean to clean his life. Not today. Gritting your teeth, you swim faster, grabbing his hand and pulling him up out of the dark blue abyss of the water. Untangling him out of the ropes, you swim behind him, hooking both your arms under his, dragging him up to the surface. When you breach the surface, you ensure his head is held above the water as you swim for the shore.

The waves rock against the sandy shore as you drag him to lie on the beach. It's at that moment that you were able to see him truly. His chest slowly rises and falls as he breathes. You brush back strands of his hair, gently running your fingertips over the eyepatch that covers his left eye. The entire left side of his body, from his head down to his hip, is covered in healed scars.

“So pretty.” You whisper, running your hand down my cheek. His head leans into your touch, making your heart flutter fast.

You stay like that, staring at the beautiful man until your tail dries and shifts into your legs. You lie there next to the stranger until the sun begins to rise. It was about that time when he groaned, turning his head to the side before he blinked slowly.

Nanami’s vision was blurry, blinking slowly. He was on warm, damp sand, and his head was pounding. He turned his head to the other side and stared at the knees of someone sitting near him. His eyes trailed up higher, cheeks burning as he stuttered and sat up, finding his knees belonging to a very naked and beautiful woman.

“Oh! You’re awake!” You chirped happily, tilting your head to the side and shifting your hair. “Thank goodness.”

“I’m sorry—I'm just a little confused.”

“Well, you were drowning, and I saved you.”

The man before you slowly nodded, averting his gaze from your direction. “Oh, thank you very much; I would like to thank you properly, but—“ His cheeks flushed pink. “You’re uhm—naked.” You hummed, glancing down at your naked body before shrugging your shoulders.

“Merfolk don’t have the need to wear clothes.”

Nanami has deduced that you weren’t exactly human when he first looked at you. Your ears were shaped differently, almost similar to what he’s seen in books depicting elves with a slight point. Your cheap bones were littered with glittering scales, and you had a starfish pulling some of your hair back. He had heard rumors about mermaids being in the ocean but had never seen them in person.

“Right, well uhm—“ he sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. “Hold on,” You watched as he took his shirt off before handing it to you. “I don’t want to be rude and stare. Even though you’re very beautiful and you have a very stunning body. I want to thank you properly for saving me, so if you don’t mind, could you put this on for a second?”

You took the white fabric from him, examining its sleeves and two openings. You slid it over your bare body the way you had seen him wearing it. The shirt was long on you, covering your torso, and the end rested against the top of your thighs. The sleeves were long, swallowing your hands as you flapped them around curiously.

Nanami finally turned to watch as you cutely moved your arms up and down. He watched as the sleeves of his shirt flapped with you. He grinned, turning to face you, sitting on his knees. You examined him briefly before getting into the same position, sitting on your knees so that you could stare at him.

“Thank you for saving my life.” He bowed his head, which quickly followed suit.

“It was my pleasure.” You went back to examine the shirt closely.

Nanami scoffed, shaking his head as he sat against the glittering sand in the rising sun. “My name is Nanami Kento, what’s yours.” You quickly told him your name, more eager to stare at the different stitching in the fabric you wore. “I would like to repay you for saving my life. I owe you a debt.” For the first time in your entire life, a certain sense of excitement washed over you like the warm summer waves. This was your chance to ask him your questions and get some answers!

“I have lots of questions about you humans.”

“Do you?”

“Mhmm, why do you guys carry mini tridents on all your ships?”

Nanami cocked a blonde brow at you. “Mini-tridents?” You held the finger up in front of him before reaching into the net bag you had made and pulled out the trident.

“These things.”

Nanami reached out with the most gentle smile on his face. “This is called a fork. We use it to eat food.” You allowed him to take this so-called ‘fork’ from you. “Watch.” He reached down, scooping some of the sand onto the fork. “This way, our hands don’t get dirty when we eat. We also use spoons and knives as well. But depending on the food or culture, utensils aren't used.” But you didn’t hear any of that because your eyes were sparkling with all as you watched him take the fork into the sand, picking it up before dumping it down onto the ground.

“Amazing!”

“What else would you like to know?”

“Oh, I have so many questions! Lik—“

“Nanami?!” Both of you turn, watching several men come running down the beach towards you. “Oh my god, Captain, it’s Nanami!!”

“Haibara!” There was a relief in Nanami’s tone, which had you smiling with a heavy heart. He had a life on the short to get back to you; he couldn’t just lie there and answer all of your questions. So you pulled the shirt off and handed it back to him. “Huh?” Looking down into his lap, he found his sweater and glanced up to watch as you walked towards the water, stepping into the crystal blue ocean. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Home.” You say, slowly sinking deeper into the water, feeling your legs shift back into your tail. “Your friends are here now. They’ll be able to get you home.”

Just before you can dive into the water, there’s a splash behind you, and Nanami grabs your hand to prevent you from leaving. “Answering one of your questions isn’t enough to thank you for saving my life. Could you come back here and meet me every day? I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have.” Your fingers interlace with his.

“I’ll meet you here tomorrow. How about when the sun is highest in the sky?”

“I’ll be here.”

Just like he promised every day when the sun was highest in the sky, you would meet him at the beach where he would be waiting for you. He always brought lunch for both and was more than willing to answer every question you had. You learned all about forks, spoons, and knives. Nanami told you that women like to wear jewels, and the flat yellow coins in their trunks, which you found at the bottom of the ocean, were used as currency to buy things like food or clothes.

When those questions were answered, Nanami began bringing books to the beach for you both to read. You’re so glad he did because You’ve learned all about different things: foods and far-off places. Every day, you would lie on the beach, reading with Nanami. He'd tell you stories of his days with the crew. Sailing the seas and fighting battles, he always did it with a fond but almost sad smile.

He loved his friends and his job defending people from the Pirates, who were horrible humans. Kenjaku and his gang of horrible people had plagued the ocean for so long. They were sinking ships, stealing money, and committing the most heinous of crimes. In the battle leading up to Kenjaku’s defeat, Nanami lost his eye, and half his body was burnt by a pirate named Mahito. At the same time, his voice and eye are full of pain. He claims that it was well worth it because, in the end, they were able to defeat them. Even though he was left with the scars for it.

“I suppose it's still taking me some time to get used to. People tend to stare.” He said as he stroked your hair back. “But, you never once questioned or made comments about it. Why is that? From the mermaid who has millions of questions, I thought that would be something you would be curious about.”

“Oh,” you looked up from your book, turning to face Nanami, “I just think you’re beautiful.”

His hand gently cups your cheek, holding it there. “And I think you're beautiful. A beautiful, strong mermaid who saved my life.” The distance between your lips gets smaller and smaller as he inches forward. “You know that you are far too kind?” You lean into his touch, nuzzling against the palm of his hand.

“I couldn't just idly sit by and watch someone die. I honestly believe there was a reason behind my lounging that night, and I'm glad that J was there because I got to meet you. You are so kind and handsome. You never think any of my questions are stupid or ridiculous.”

“Because they’re not. Do you have a curious mind, and I’m happy to feed that.”

Before your lips could touch, you pulled away. “I’m happy being with you,” you whisper, playing with the sleeves of Nanami’s shirt, which he always lets you wear when you lounged on the beach with him. “But uhm, Gojo mentioned that he has another ship lined up for you. That you should be able to get back to work soon.”

Nanami can see the disappointment in your eyes. You knew this day would eventually come. He wouldn’t stay on the beach with you forever, answering your questions and feeding the delicious food he prepared. He’d eventually go back to sailing the seas, and you would go back to exploring shipwrecks soon. This beautiful time together was going to be short-lived. Because how would you make this work?

A mermaid and a pirate being together. Because one saved the other from drowning, was there anything holding him here to be with you? For you both to continue meeting on this secluded beach outside his hometown. No, he had a life to get back to.

“Yeah, about that.” he gently grabbed the back of your head, pulling you close to his face. “I told Gojo that I was going to retire.”

“Retire?”

“Yes, it means I'm no longer going to work.” The way your pupils dilated and sparkled made Nanami’s heart soar. “I've made enough money to last me the rest of my life.”

You press your hands against his bare chest. “What do you plan on doing now?” Your voice is high-pitched as your breathing quickens in anticipation and excitement.

“Oh, the crew said they will help me build a house here on this beach. I plan to fill it with all the books I haven't read yet. Books that my curious mermaid can read. Because her curiosity and awe of the world is something I want to continue to fuel because I have fallen in love with every bit of her beauty, curious mind, and heart.”

“Kento,” you whisper, eyes flooded with liquid.

“May I kiss you? And so selfishly ask you to accept me as yours?” There were no questions to be asked. You closed the distance between you both, slamming your lips against his in a searing kiss. As Nanami hit the soft sand below, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against him.

A few years pass, and Gojo tracks down the beach with Suguru and Haibara. They had been kind enough to bring back gifts for you on their latest voyage: books, wine, and exotic fruit. The house you and Nanami had built stood tall, providing shade for you both. You lie in the sand holding each other as your daughter happily places a seashell on the pile of sand she deemed a castle.

“Ahoy there!” Haibara yells, drawing Nanami’s attention from the little wavy blonde girl clapping her hands together. “We brought treats!”

“Uncle Yu!!” Your daughter bolted for the group of men, throwing her arms around Yu’s leg and giggling as she stepped forward. Her hair flowed in the warm summer breeze, revealing her pointed ears. She might be a carbon copy of her father, but at least she got your ears.

Nanami watched from the shade, taking a deep breath before looking at the ocean. An ocean that had left him scarred almost drowned him and brought him to the best thing in his life. You plopped down next to him, stretching your arms above your head before your husband leaned down, kissing you softly. The ocean had brought you together. And he thanked it every morning for his lovely little mermaid wife and beautiful daughter.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

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white-sinner · 2 years ago

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Seven brothers and their boyfriends

fifth born Asmodeus and male vampire reader

Smut

💜💗💜💗💜💗💜💗💜💗💜💗💜💗💜 oh my devildom you two would be one of the most envied couples, and how can you deny it? Asmodeus and our dear M/N if with satan it could be said that it was like a fairy tale here it can be said that it is a mixture of porn and sweetness

when you two met for the first time you realized he was a bit narcissistic but, on the contrary, he was struck by your vampire traits especially by your very sharp teeth and your very brilliant E/C

when you arrived at HOL he didn't invite you, he DRAG you into his room to make you make videos with him, skin care try on clothes now even his live chat asks for you to be present and under his posts his fans they write that they love how your two styles are so different but come together to form a perfect pair

Asmo never misses a chance to flirt with you and of course being the avatar of lust he is sure you will be his and even if you had suitors they would back down knowing they have no chance against Asmo

The brothers are gone now they can't stand hearing Asmo talk 24/7 about how you two would make a perfect match

finally when you two got together EVERYONE breathed a sigh of relief

as for appointments .. we are talking about Asmodeus what can you expect: shopping dates, parties, make overs .. baths with candles, long evenings of sex, flirting, he who sends you photos while you are in class as Simeon would say UNHOLY

Asmo loves how his demon form style matches perfectly with your vampire style

when you two fight? no one can be in the same room while you argue usually you apologize if it's minor even when he's flirting with other demons being that anyway you understand that it's his sin anyway and he can't control it but when things are more serious and you don't apologize Asmo gets worried and comes apologizing crying

during your first month anniversary you brought him some vampire clothes as a gift that he absolutely adores now it was one of his favorite items of clothing

the matching clothes you give him

SMUT

you were looking for bags of blood to buy from akuzon even though you were similar to demons you were not the same

“M/N what are you doing?”

“not now Asmo I'm looking for some blood bags to buy "

“Tck How many times do I have to tell you that you don't need that crappy low quality stuff when you can drink my sweetest blood!”

said that he took the phone from your hands

"HEY!"

“no come on you can drink mine you know I like it don't you want to make your beautiful boyfriend happy?”

"ok where do you want me to bite you?"

"here"

said Asmo pointing at the corner of the neck

"you know that point is very sensitive right?"

"..."

he didn't say anything I just look at you smiling and with shining eyes

after you reached for his neck biting his neck he moaned and when you were done he held your arm with desperate eyes saying he wanted more

your cock was going in and out of him as you kept biting him all over Asmo loved it it was one of his dirty fantasies, after a while you started to go faster making him see Belphie's dream stars and he start moaning and whine louder not giving a damn about the others who were in the other rooms after your eleventh orgasm you washed him gently and placed him on the bed and you two fell asleep

needless to say the other brothers were dead tired in the morning even belphie hadn't been able to sleep

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baxndaid · 5 months ago

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human vox

x reader 📺⛽🎤

an ; request more vox pls i love him, most of this is just me yapping

The year was 1952 and you worked in the upcoming film and TV industry. While it was just a small job reading through scripts to find typos or getting coffee for the more important figures, it was a job nonetheless and you enjoyed it.

A new show had quickly skyrocketed in popularity since its debut, a game show where you would have to answer questions in order to win the, most likely branded, items. Something like a washing machine or a supply of toothpaste. If the producers felt generous that day however, the prizes would rise in value, the show once giving away a brand new sleek black Fiat 1900. While the simple yet new and exciting premise of the show might’ve drawn viewers in, the host of the show made them stay. He was charming and handsome, he always dressed the part with a dapper suit and his hair was always done perfectly. Whenever he spoke, it was like the whole stage brightened up a bit, at least, that’s what you thought. His stage name was Vox, you never really liked that name - too sharp and aggressive, you thought. His real name was Vince, and you liked it better, though you’d never tell him that. You hardly ever had any interactions with the man other than handing him the script that the sponsors wanted him to yap about. He was charming, and you liked him - unfortunately it was just a pipe dream. You didn’t bother chasing after him considering you were just a small time employee while he was the face of the whole show, thousands of American women had their eyes on him especially when they turned their black and white TVs on between 5-6PM.

Fortunately for you, the producers had caught a glimpse of you backstage and wanted to spice up the show a bit. It was getting boring, other than the host himself there was nobody else the audience could attach themselves to. So, naturally, the best idea would be to introduce a beautiful woman, who was smart and shy - the “role model” if you will. You fit the bill, and how could you say no? You would be beloved by every household for your wholesome nature, (and especially loved by all the men in unhappy marriages and liked looking at the young women on screen.) And if you won? you could keep the winnings.

And you would win, because the show was now rigged in your favor.

Simply put, they wanted to paint you as the underdog, the vulnerable lady who simply wanted a chance to make some money. So when you would answer every question, even the ridiculous ones, correctly, the audience would gasp in disbelief at your amazing hidden knowledge and then tune into the next episode to see more of you and Vox. The truth was, the only thing hidden was Vox sliding you the answers to each question onto your desk. It was genius, really, the producers seemed to love the idea and so did Vox. Anything for ratings. You were still a little apprehensive, but you couldn’t back down after already signing the contract.

After winning one episode and becoming around $10,000 richer, Vox strategically pulled you in for a hug and gave you a polite kiss on the cheek to congratulate you for your “victory” in front of the camera. He was an amazing actor, you thought as he said his goodbyes to the audience and the cameras stopped rolling. Maybe he should ditch this studio and try his luck in Hollywood.

Once the room was no longer focused on Vox, he turned to you, his smile less big and forced and a lot more casual, “That was your first taste of show business, how’d you find it? Pretty nifty eh?” He prodded you with his elbow gently.

“Yeah, it was um- different… to what I usually do.”

“Oh yeah, forgot you worked here prior.” He looked at you up and down as he pulled a cigarette and lighter out from his pocket, “Say, since you and I are going to be working with each other from now on, why don’t we blow this antsville and I’ll buy you a drink?”

As he waited for your answer he placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. You were surprised and albeit excited by his offer, but you decided not to go out drinking with a famous guy in the middle of the afternoon. Something something responsible adult.

"A drink? Oh, I don't know about that sir... It's rather late."

He scoffed and exhaled, a puff of smoke engulfed you as you coughed. "Don't be such a square." He looked at your face again whilst bringing the stick up to his lips once more, "And don't call me sir, makes me seem old. Call me Vince," He paused, "Or Vox, I don't really give a rats ass."

You nodded and took a small step away from him in a pathetic attempt to get away from the smoke. He smirked.

"I take it you don't smoke?"

You shook your head

"Look at you, I'm not surprised." He took another draw of his cigarette, "So, about that drink?"

You were going to be honest, you couldn't say no. He was so unbelievably pushy that it was practically impossible to turn him down without feeling like shit afterwards. He was THE Vox, America's beloved host! How dare you even think of saying no. So here you were, in his luxurious house, sat on his couch that probably cost more than your entire living room, and with a glass of expensive scotch in hand that he generously poured you.

He returned with his own glass and sat down next to you, laying his free arm behind your head. He took a sip, his gaze never leaving yours,

"You're a pretty thing, can't believe you haven't been casted already, or snatched up by some of the big dogs like Vogue." He said, a smile plastered on his face. "I think you and I will get along just fine."

_____

As he predicted, you and Vox did indeed get on well, normally chatting (gossiping) about who knows what in his dressing room after work. He had told you about his old job as a TV salesmen, and how he has this weird hatred for radios. Something about them being outdated and boring. You never understood. He learnt a lot about you too, your past relationships, your family, your favourite animals - you two grew close and he relished in the idea of getting even closer. The network had given you another job since you could only appear on Vox's show so many times. It was a higher paying job but not all that stressful since you now had someone to talk to about it.

The press had caught wind of your friendship and naturally began to speculate on it. You won his gameshow 3 times now, maybe you simply slept with him in order to get the answers? Maybe it was luck? Are you two truly just friends or are you dating? Or just putting on a show?

Vox loved it, he loved your flushed face whenever you'd read the title of a gossip paper involving you and your new friend, he loved touching you a little more intimately whenever you two were hanging out in public, and he especially enjoyed kissing your hand or cheek under the guise of being a gentleman in front of any fans that just so happened to meet them out and about. Luckily for you, these rumours went nowhere and remained as simple speculation. Did he want you? yes, he couldn't even deny it. You were funny and understanding, even when he wasn't in a good mood. You knew so much about him and he knew so much about you - the fact that you were gorgeous was just a plus. Additionally, you were fantastic for his public image; a darling little thing like you attached to his hip just fuelled his already massive ego since he loved showing you off. The only problem was - you were as dense as a brick. He often got a little frustrated since his flirtatious efforts were fruitless; you couldn't tell if he was being for real or just acting for publicities sake, so you opted on just ignoring his romantic (and sexual) remarks towards you.

And don't think for a second that you'll be getting a real soppy confession from him either. He would buy you expensive clothes and take you out to fancy dinners, he would hold your hand while you crossed the street together and he would cuss anybody out if they were pissing you off. His feelings for you would be confirmed by him sloppily kissing you on his desk one random afternoon after a few drinks and tears; maybe not the most romantic way to say "I love you" but it was close enough for him and close enough for you too.

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sitp-recs · 6 months ago

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hiii i don’t know if you still do recs but if you do, do you have any fics where harry and draco are just obsessed with each other but not in an established relationship? like stalker vibes if you get me 😭😭

Hi anon! I think you might enjoy this list I posted recently: Harry thinks Draco is Up to Something as many fics would fit in this category. I’ll also add these great reads with stalker vibes:

Paint It Red by @dictacontrion (E, 5k)

Draco's a graffiti artist with a bone to pick. Harry's the P.I. tasked with catching him. Or, apparently, stalking him all over town, asking a lot of questions, and showing surprising artistic talent.

A Memory and a Mystery by hollyxhawthorn (E, 8k)

After a night with a mysterious man, Harry Potter hires Draco Malfoy to recover a missing personal item.

A New Page by @bixgirl1 (E, 8.5k)

Draco just wanted to find out what was up with Potter's new attitude. Some light stalking, the discovery of a hidden diary, and a lot of wanking later, and he has some answers. They're just not the ones he expected.

Blueprints for a Dream by Frayach (E, 24k)

Harry breaks Draco’s heart, but that doesn’t mean Draco’s going to let him go without a fight.

Now I Wake Up In The Night and Watch You Breathe by @hoko-onchi-writes (E, 25k)

When the DMLE assigned Harry to watch Draco, Harry’s interest ramped up. He wanked so much that first year he tore a muscle in his upper arm. It was all sexual at first. But with time, Harry’s feelings deepened. Draco was clever, well-informed, viciously funny. He stopped to pet dogs on the street and looked after his neighbour’s cat. He took an art course at a Muggle uni and opened his own gallery. He was smart and sharp; ambitious.

on the divine agony of longing by @flimsi (E, 25k)

Speaking to Draco is like poking a beehive - and Harry is a glutton for punishment. In which Harry makes some serious blunders and then tries to fix it. Somehow.

Glory Be by Lomonaaeren (E, 32k)

Draco—Draco Malfoy, skilled assassin, powerful and wealthy Veela, former Death Eater—has always known what to do, where to go, who to kill. And then Harry Potter came along: Harry Potter, Unspeakable, former Auror, the most powerful wizard Draco has ever seen. And Draco catches a glimpse of glory he may be unable to live without.

Shine, Even in the Darkness by raitala (E, 41k)

Harry hasn’t seen Draco for over fifteen years, but now he’s showing up everywhere and Harry is sort of weirdly attracted to him, but that can’t be right?

Even From Opposite Ends of the Universe by @kbrick (E, 114k)

In sixth year, Harry begins obsessively tracking Draco Malfoy's every move, telling himself it's the only way to prevent Malfoy from carrying out his dark plans. But as the year progresses, fist fights and mutual animosity gradually give way to a swirling, complicated intimacy that neither boy expects or understands, even as they desperately try to shield it from the outside world.

Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k)

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own.

#asks #anon #drarry reclist #stalker drarry vibes

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angelicbeaut · 1 year ago

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Being (the “I am” state)

(Long post)

I think the most common instance I see in the community when interacting with asks and reading different struggles we all have/have had during our journey, is that people don’t just let themselves be.

A lot of us believe(d) that we have to work hard for everything, and we take that and apply it to manifestation. Maybe you feel it is too easy to just provide to yourself in imagination, you think there must be something else you have to do, that it can’t be that easy. Well, my love, I see you, I hear you, and I have been you. But, I am glad to inform you that when you reach this beautiful garden of truth and learning yourself and how this world works, that it is in fact, that easy.

As children, we played so freely in our imagination, even when we did not have the best days. We were always enthralled with our wildest dreams, excited by the mere glimmer of something new, even if we may have lost the ability to return to that sanctity as life become complicated, and imagination was thrown away for the sharp and harsh situations that life may have thrown at us. But I assure you, that you never lose the ability to imagine, it is never gone for good, maybe put to the side but never lost.

Imagine states being in a big shopping mall. You can try on any state you want, you can fill your cart up with fancy coats and dolce bags if you embody being rich (I am rich, I am financial free, I am always receiving gifts), you can fill your cart with heart patterned sweaters and lovely smelling candles if you are focusing on manifesting love or self love (I am loved, I am chosen, I am beautiful), and if you are trying to embody the state of being unloved you can fill your cart with no happy ending romance books and candles that smell like cat piss and back way alleys after it rains (I am unloved, I am not appreciated). Best deal is, it’s all on the house, all you have to do is pay in your mentality and accept this state as your own.

Now, let’s say you get to the register and you realize you don’t have enough mental bucks to spend on feeling rich today, let’s say life has been going crazy and you can only lay in bed, you feel overwhelmed by everything and you can’t raise your vibes right now.

Well, you’re in luck!

There is a layaway where you can store any state you plan to return to, even if you just need to wallow for a bit. The person at the register doesn’t look angry or upset, the look at you with the same witty smile, and hand you slippers, comfy socks, and a complimentary box of chocolates! You get your receipt and it lists all of what you have on layaway, waiting for you at any time! You can leave confidently knowing that you still have them, they just have to be picked up when you’re ready!

Now let’s break this down:

Clothes and different items you can place in your cart = the state you are wanting to be in

employee at the register = your subconscious, you

Layaway = an infinite amount of states that are always accessible to you because everything is you, they never go away, they are just not being made aware of to come into fruition

The register = the point of deciding, from the moment you make that transaction and put on your new clothes, you are now occupying that state, and the unfolding begins.

My love, those parts of you that you may feel like you have lost due to the harshities of this world are never gone, you just had to put them down because all you had the energy to focus on at that time was what you had to get done (working to make ends meet, dealing with a tumultuous relationship, having mental health issues) and that is okay. It may feel like you need to apply that survival mode to get these good things too. But no my love, you do not. You have been doing this since you were a child, your gift is limitless and always exists inside of you. Use your beautiful and boundless imagination internally to give yourself what you want externally.

When you are down, when you are sad, when you feel like you cannot hold yourself to a new state, work through your current one, do not run away, do not ignore it, do not fight against it to be perfect. You are already perfect and you always will be, Angel. Imagine yourself on a throne, as a famous movie star, go into the depths of your imagination and soar, feel the essence of what is like to be your true self. That doesn’t require you to lift a finger, so be gentle with yourself. No one is angry that you didn’t stay in the state today, you are not a failure, you are learning, and time is not your god, you are god.

when you feel as though you cannot do it today, don’t, but when you can, return to yourself as a child, and bask in your boundless imagination, treat yourself to bliss and never stop and your 3D will have no choice but to give it to you. All you gotta do is go shopping, and that mall is always there for you sweetheart. It is never too late to shop for a new look, you can change it at any time.

I love you, from my gracious heart to yours,

Luv, che 🌷

P.S

PUT THE 369 method DOWN, GET SOME SLEEP AND WATCH A COMFORT SHOW! 💕

#law of assumption #manifesting #neville goddard #self concept #manifestation #desired reality #loassumption #manifest #loa #shifting realities

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munson-blurbs · 4 months ago

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Oh, my dearest Bug. You know me more than anyone so I am excited to see this final product

- Eddie

- I’m weird, nerdy, caring, awkward, creative

- I like to read, write, paint, but most of all, I love to spend time with my cat babies cuz they’re the best

- she/her

- if there’s anything else you want to know…well, you probably know it already

You meet Eddie (and a surprise guest) at the pet store! Also, HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY, MY LOVE 😍😍😍😍

CW: none WC: 662 Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

No matter how many times you told yourself you were only going into the pet store for one thing, you always found yourself with a cart full of items. All you needed was kitty litter; yet here you were, browsing the treat aisle.

You were comparing Friskies flavors when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Assuming you were in the way, you stepped out of the way to give the person some room.

“No, I, uh…” A bashful voice caught your attention. You glanced over your shoulder, a small bag of treats in each hand, and saw a man about your age. His hand, a ring on each finger, was delicately curled around a tiny black kitten.

Your face lit up the way it only ever did when you saw a cute animal. “Oh my God,” you cooed. “Look at that precious baby!”

The guy laughed nervously. “I found her sleeping on one of my tires. Well, I heard her, actually. She was purring up a storm.”

“Must’ve been having a good dream.” You held your hand out and let the kitten sniff it before you scratched under her chin. “There was no mama cat around?”

“Nope.” He shook his head, his frizzy curls brushing his clean-shaved cheeks. “Just my little friend here.”

Clearing his throat, he continued. “Anyway, I called the local vet, but they don’t have any available appointments until next week. I have no idea what to feed her.” He gestured to the treats in your hand. “What do you feed your cat?”

“I have three cats, actually,” you admitted. “My cat Rosie is older, so she has this special senior food. My two younger cats just eat Purina. But they all get a mix of wet and dry.”

The guy’s face fell a bit, clearly overwhelmed by all of the information. “Hold on…there’s wet and dry?” He glanced down at the kitten. “I might be a bit in over my head here, buddy.”

“It’s okay.” You offered him a reassuring smile. “I can help.”

“Thank you.” His shoulders sagged with relief. “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

You introduced yourself, then gestured to the kitten snuggled into his chest. “Does she have a name?”

“Not yet,” Eddie said. “I’ve been tossing around some ideas, but none seem to fit, y’know?”

“I get it. You want to make sure it’s perfect.”

The cat meowed in agreement, and neither you nor Eddie could hide your amusement. Both of you burst into laughter, right there in the pet store.

“She’ll need toys, too. Otherwise she will get bored, and she will use you as a scratching post.”

Eddie winced as though he could already feel her sharp claws in his skin. “That is…definitely good to know.” His eyes scanned the other aisles. “And I can’t forget the litter box.” He wrinkled his nose. “Do cats know how to use that, like, automatically? Or do I have to teach her?”

“Not automatic, unfortunately. But it’s nothing more than a little training.” And a few instances of stepping in cat poop, you silently added.

Eddie paused for a moment, his teeth scraping over his lower lip. “What about friends?” When you quirked up an eyebrow in confusion, he elaborated. “Like, is it good for her to have other cat friends? Because if it is, maybe we should arrange a little, I dunno, cat playdate for them or something?”

Your smile was so wide that it might have fallen off of your face. “That sounds absolutely adorable.” Pulling a pen from your bag, you scrawled your phone number on his forearm. As much as you wanted to stick around and spend more time together, you needed to get home and feed your very impatient cats. “See you around, Eddie. And you, too, Kitten-Yet-To-Be-Named.”

As you headed to the cash register, you couldn’t help but overhear Eddie whispering to his new pet, “I think I’m going to have to name you ‘Cupid,’ you little matchmaker.”

#meet? cute.#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fanfic

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bleue-flora · 3 months ago

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Now that we have more info and access, let's talk about Quackity's tools shall we...

On day one, Quackity brings a pair of unenchanted shears and Sam gives him WARDENS WILL and WARDENS HAMMER as well as some item frames (which as an aside I’ve always thought is such an unhinged inclusion…).

Thus completing the trifecta of torture tools that we see in the montage later [clip]. :]

But we also know that it doesn’t end there, because in the other 2 visits we get to see he actually doesn’t even use Sam weapons (besides WARDENS TORMENT), so we know there are other undefined tools, which is why it’s so exciting to now be able to see inside chests and inventories because now we can analyze and speculate to kinda determine what those tools might have been and their enchantments (and perhaps the implications of their enchantments)…

So, for starters, in that same montage it also shows Quackity grabbing tools from a room and throwing them on the floor [seen below], which ends up being what looks like 3 neitherite axes, 3 netherite swords, and 1 pair of shears, likely implying that multiple weapons of the same type were also used (further supported by the fact that we see him use both WARDENS HAMMER and a netherite axe with low durability). Tragically, this storage room stocked with netherite weapons doesn’t exist on the map [post] :( so instead I’m gonna determine what I think are the most likely candidates from the chests in the prison, Las Nevdas, Quackity’s inventory and Sam’s inventory.

Now I’m gonna assume that 1 of the 3 axes thrown on the ground and 1 of the 3 swords are WARDENS HAMMER and WARDENS WILL, because there are not enough reasonable or qualifying sword or axe options in the locations we have to look at (this of course all based on the assumption that they aren’t in this storage room on the other map they filmed it on or didn’t have Mending and broke).

The second axe dropped I’m gonna say is the one with low durability seen in both the streams where he tries to get Dream to write the letter and the one with Techno later, which matches the one in Quackity’s ender chest with Efficiency V and mending. This axe is pretty interesting for the fact that is does not have sharpness on it, perhaps that is because that does too much damage. It’s low durability makes a lot of sense based on the lack of Unbreaking, and the Mending actually confirms what I had already theorized based off of the bottles of enchanting in his inventory when he visits rivals duo, which certainly has some implications about how much he used this axe to the point he needed to mend it mid session…

After the 2 axes, we see a sword and again I’m gonna just say this is WARDENS WILL. The last axe I’m gonna say is most likely the one in Quackity’s inventory with Efficiency V, Fortune III, Mending, Sharpness V, Unbreaking III. This one has much more durability, perhaps because of the Unbreaking or because we don’t see it in the visits we get, maybe because it has Sharpness V he doesn’t use it as much.

The second sword I’m gonna say is also one from his inventory called SPIDER MASTER 2000 with Bane of Arthropods V, Fire Aspect, Unbreaking III, and Mending. Based on the name and Arthropods, this sword was likely made for the purpose of farming xp in the spider farm, but I’d say it’s not unreasonable to think Quackity used it for other things too. Makes me wonder if that Athropods enchantment has any strange effect on a person. And don’t even get me started on the Fire Aspect. :]

The third sword I’m gonna say is this one in a chest in the prison with Knockback II, Looting III, Mending, Sharpness V, Sweeping Edge III, and Unbreaking III, for 2 reasons 1) the chest it is in includes building items such as Quartz and Smooth Stone [highlighted in yellow] which are not present in the prison but are in multiple areas of Las Nevadas and 2) It has full durability, but has Mending to explain that unlike the other nethrite swords in the prison (minus the Guard Sword, which I doubt he let Q use) and Sam’s inventory, all with high durability. Perhaps we could make up some reason like perhaps using the Sweeping Edge or Knockback to explain the full durability and why it’s in a chest in the prison. Perhaps it is Sam’s sword but Quackity was miss using it or the enchantments on it made it too dangerous or something, so Sam made him heal it and return it. Maybe that’s why he stops giving Quackity his Warden weapons too… who knows.

Then we see a pair of unenchanted shears, which we see him with in his first visit and the one with rivals duo. Give that shears durability doesn’t last long in general and that these are unenchanted, it’s probably reasonable to say that he perhaps broke and brought multiple pairs of unenchanted shears so to pin down the specific pair isn’t great, but we do see a pair in a hidden chest under the Needle in Las Nevadas (and irl wise it’s not like they did 80 scenes of torture so this could technically be the pair from the rivals duo stream (and maybe even the first visit)). Especially since it also has a pair of iron pants and an enchanted diamond sword like we see in his inventory during that stream. An enchanted diamond sword also appears in the letter visit and I’m gonna say they are both this sword with Sharpness I. It has higher durability than the one seen in the rivals visit, but perhaps he healed it with a diamond or something. This diamond sword is pretty interesting in the fact that it isn’t netherite like the ones shown in the montage, so it also than does less damage, even more so due to the minimum enchantments. Perhaps that’s what makes it such a good option for torture as it doesn’t do too much damage and kill Dream on accident.

During the rivals duo visit, we also see WARDENS TORMENT which to my suprise only has Unbreaking III not Mending. We also see an unenchanted diamond pickaxe. Now we could say he only brought the pickaxe with the purpose of getting his revenge or we could take it as a sign that he used pickaxes too outside of just shears, swords and axes. After all, WARDENS WILL BREAKER is the name of Sam’s pickaxe, so surely it was used when trying to break Dream’s will (and if that then perhaps the netherite pickaxe in Quackity’s inventory as well).

Furthermore, when Quackity runs into George outside the prison, we see him carrying an enchanted diamond pickaxe likely the same one in his inventory with Fortune II and Unbreaking III, which I’d say can be reasonably assumed to have been used inside the prison (perhaps just for convenience sake). Especially because, also in his inventory at the time is a stack of seeds, which appears in the chest with the enchanted diamond sword and shears which we already determined were likely used.

So, those are all the things we can more reasonably conclude with some reasonings and conclusions definitely stronger than others. Even further though if we wanted to really start to theorize, there is an also an argument to be made (that I’ve actually highlighted before [posts - <> <>]) that if he uses pickaxes why not also shovels? And hoes? And maybe even one of Sam tridents, perhaps WARDENS MERCY with Channeling [post]? [potential weapons used highlighted in red] I don’t know, it’s really mostly all theoretical but fun to think about anyways, I mean we do have Quackity’s comment in the letter visit, “I’ll show you which one I’ll use this time around.” [clip] and Dream’s comment to Foolish, “Sam, you know, let him in the prison, let him bring in tools—and shears, and they tried to torture the revive book out of me…” [clip] which does somewhat support the reasoning for more variety of tools. After all, why doesn’t Dream say weapons and shears? Seems to me like you’d use tools to include the shears, cuz swords and axes are just weapons. (We can obviously explain this away for many reason but that’s besides the point). Plus I mean based off of what Dream said in Daedalus as noted we tend to like to reasonably assume a knife and chair was involved (further supported by ccSam if we chose to believe his unhinged comments lol XD), and that certainly opens the door for other things…

#:]#this is fine #prison arc #let me cook #dsmp analysis #dsmp map #dreblr #c!dream #c!quackity and c!dream #c!sam and c!quackity #c!loudduo #c!awesamdream #dsmp #c!quackity #dsmp scavenger hunt #hope you enjoyed by unhingedness… I might talk about what random purposes we can come up with for other things in these inventories & chest #mmmm…. torture box brain rot :)#(ignore the fact that wardens will pic is of Sam and not my inventory :(…. that sword is mia apparently)#tumblr…. I need more colors pls color coding is nice :)

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 2 years ago

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☆There's No Place Like Home☆

《You are new to this... Neighborhood? Where the hell are you?》

Episode 2: Get To Know Know Your Neighbors

[Pilot] [1]

《Warnings: the subject matter this ARG has are potentially disturbing. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Welcome Home was created by Clown @ partycoffin 》

Sick.

You felt sick after eating that cake. It tasted like pure sugar cane mixed with coffee creamer. The taste was sweeter than any treat you had eaten before.

Yet you don't utter a word about it to your plucky, so-called, "neighbors".

"Well, would you look at the time? It looks like it's late... Er. I think, but I gotta keep.. Unpacking? And I'm sure you all have plans of your own tomorrow."

You pick up the plates quickly, but some of the slices were barely picked at. Other plates are not even a spec of crumbs.

"Yes, of course!" Poppy said, hurriedly fluffing up her feathers in case of any stray pieces of dessert on her.

"Mhm, the post office isn't gonna' run itself." "Nor the bodega!" Howdy and Eddie laugh, Frank, chuckling off to the side.

"Yes, I gotta get some beauty sleep if I wanna dream big!" Sally agreed, pushing out her chair.

"Then I guess it's settled, we'll see you tomorrow, right neighbor?" Wally asks you. Dropping the plates in the sink, a few break on impact. Your hands try to pick up the broken pieces. But recoiled at the sight of your blood staining the fine china.

"Ye-yeah... Absolutely."

"Wonderful!" Julie cheers, coming up to your side by the sink.

"You must join me tomorrow! Your clothes are so odd! I've never seen a style quite like it. I would love it if we could dress up together!" The puppet chattered.

You nodded uncaringly, more focused on the cut on your palm.

"Groovy-..!"

A sharp gasp escapes Julie as Frank comes to her side.

"What... What is that?" Julie questioned you.

"Oh-... it's a cut. I hurt myself..."

"H-HURT! Who said hurt!?" Poppy stumbles near your side, her gaze softening as she asks if you were okay.

The other puppets now standing behind her, awkwardly trying to see your cut.

You hesitantly show the bird-puppet your palm, albeit shaken up by her. You thought she would bite your arm off with her beak.

Instead, she holds out her feathers, tenderly holding your arm.

Her expression turns into one of confusion. "That's odd..?"

"Wh-what??"

"There's only paint, I don't see any stuffing. Are you sure you are hurt?"

You, in turn, give her a puzzled look.

Had... Had these puppets never seen a human before? Much less a human being bleeding?

You take this as a good sign. Glad that these "puppets" didn't eat or have an appetite for humans or blood.

"Paint you say?" Frank bumps in, carefully analyzing your cut. He hums in thought, "Would you mind if I poked your cut?"

"No...Can I have a band-aid or something to close it up please?"

Frank nodded and backs off as Eddie hands you needle and a thread spool. "Here, found it by some of the boxes."

"Thanks..." You said, disregarding the puppets staring at you attentively as you place the items down. Saying you'll clean it up first.

You reassure them you'll be fine as you usher your "neighbors" to the door. Gladly holding the door open for them as they say their good byes and farewells.

Wally was the last one to leave, he smiles sleepily at you. You smile back at the tiniest puppet, feeling your mouth muscles twitch when keeping up the charade.

"I'll tell Home you said 'hello', good night. Neighbor."

[Taglist closed]

@tearjerker666 @trzppyghxuls @cookieswithay @luna-charlie @isometimeswritestuff @kazi-pop @lightspectre-universe @jjowithastar @smilingfox22-blog @jayysnotjoyful @cadaverous-coop @heather-hutchcroft @camilo-uwu @sweetheartturtle2007 @welcomehome102 @pretty-please-just-let-me-sleep @wally-darling-hyperfixation @q1bli @rainingdandelion @anima-chara @tearjerker666 @aceduchessdragoness @sleepy-planet @pauldanosbandonedirection222 @thelittlexd11 @luna-charlie

[Dun-dun-dun!!! Sorry I took so long to update! I've been writing a lot of Welcome Home Oneshots. Comments, art, always help! Thanks for reading!]

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gretavangroupie · 24 days ago

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Transcendent - Two

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 15.6k

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Smoking, Cursing, Mention and Use of Magic, Black Magic, Curses, Mentions of Death, Anxiety, Attempted Assault, Mention of Injury, Blood, Arranged Marriage, Sadness, Crying. Smut: Sexual Themes, Heavy Pining, Kissing, Touching, Fingering.

A/N: Surprise! @gretavanmoon and I are back with another chapter of what has to be our favorite project yet. Without giving too much away, this will not be your traditional storyline. We've been dreaming on this one for a while and after a quick little break we are ready to get back to business. There will be no posting schedule with this story, taking it as it comes to give you the best story possible. But, it will be ongoing throughout this Winter and Spring season. As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting and reblogging. It means the world to us and truly keeps us going.

The harsh sunlight blinds me as my eyes flutter open and I find myself in some type of field laid out on my back. My trousers feel wet, as does my shirt. I can feel water between my fingers, and a few wet strands of hair against my neck. I can hear what sounds to be crickets hiding in the tall grasses around me, though they don’t resemble any grasses I’ve ever known. They’re thin and razor sharp with a bundle of seeds at the tip. The water beneath me is murky and brown and I cannot see through it, though I know it’s shallow. Maybe only a few inches deep. The grass seems to be in perfect rows, and I quickly realize this is a crop field, not a grass field.

As I pull myself up out of the water, the chill in the air bites at my wet skin and clothing, sending a shiver through my body. Goosebumps raise along my skin and a chatter falls from my teeth. As I look around I see endless rows of crops, and in the far off distance what seems to be a barn or small farm. It takes all my effort to trudge through the muddy water, finally finding the edge of the crop field. I cannot name the crop, but I know it’s nothing I have seen in Louisiana.

Large Oak trees occupy the perimeter of this land, thick with spanish moss and heavy with foliage. The landscape is so different from what I have known, with large rolling fields of grass and less swamp land. As I step onto dry ground I do my best to wring out my trousers with water still dripping from my hair. I panic as I reach for the front pocket of my frock coat, hoping my book isn’t soiled with the dirty water. As my hand reaches into the pocket, I find it dry and untouched. As the wind blows again, I realize that I need to rid myself of these wet garments before I fall ill.

I hear Serphine’s voice in my head, telling me of the tree that would hold the items I needed to blend in. “Find a tree with three mother trunks, and a deep hole at its center. There, inside, will be everything you will need to survive in the place and time you find yourself.” I hope there will be dry clothing there, though I am not quite sure what to expect. I search the trees in the distance looking to find the one she spoke of, three large trunks with a hole at the center. I walk quite a ways closer to the property, not finding the tree I am searching for, but as I draw nearer to what I now know is a barn, I locate the large Oak I am looking for.

It is just behind the large white wooden barn, and as I round the corner I am met with quite a sight. A grand estate sits just off to the right, with a stately double staircase leading up to a full wrap-around porch filled with large white columns. The house must be three stories tall, each level having a generous covered balcony. I’ve never seen anything quite so ornate in all my time as a carpenter. But it's the roof that steals my breath away. I see what must be ten large chimneys protruding from the shingles, but the crowning jewel of the home is its large copper spire at the center of the roof, catching the sun and shining brightly. Something tells me that she is in there, but this doesn’t seem to be the place where one can just barge right in.

I shake away my awe and make my way to the tree, feeling a bit foolish as I reach inside the hollow of the trunk. Shock runs through me as I feel a canvas sack brush against my fingers. I pull the bag from the tree and drop to the ground with it as I empty its contents. Inside is a new pair of light colored wool trousers, a white long sleeve half button shirt, a pair of leather suspenders, a wide brim hat and a pair of work boots. Inside is also a small leather pouch with a pocket knife, etched with the image of an hourglass. I know this is Seraphine’s doing, a small reminder of my limited time.

I quickly redress myself in the new clothing, instantly feeling warmer thanks to the wool trousers. I place my soiled clothes in the sack and pocket the knife, ready to head towards the mansion in search of answers. As I start out toward the footpath, I am quickly stopped by an incoming carriage making its way up the small dusty path towards the barn, and as I change my path I realize that the barn is actually a large carriage house. I watch as the horse trots toward the stables, furrowing my brows as I notice it favoring its rear hoof. My hunch is telling me that Y/N is somewhere on this sprawling property, and I realize that this horse and its injured hoof could be my ticket inside.

I sling my sack over my shoulder as I rush towards the stables, watching as the carriage is unhooked from the horse and wheeled back into its storage slot. I can hear the whinnying of several horses at varying ages as I slowly step inside the building trying not to spook the horse that has finished its work. A large statured man is tending to this horse, patting his neck as he begins to lead it away to the stables.

“‘Scuse me, sir?” I say.

He turns abruptly, clearly startled by my presence. “Walkin’ tour starts at the main house.” he says, nodding to the estate behind me.

“Oh, I’m with no tour, sir,” I explain, “I couldn’t help but notice your Gelding there seems to be favoring his right rear hoof.”

He raises a brow to me and looks down at the horses back hooves. “You noticed that from the walking path?”

“I did,” I nod, gesturing towards the hoof, “I know you don’t know me from Adam, but if you’d like I could take a look at it for you. I’ve worked with horses most of my life.”

He takes a good long look at me, as if trying to decide if I am telling the truth of not before nodding. “Alright, have a look. Simon is a calm horse, shouldn’t give you no trouble.”

I nod to him as I gently drop my sack to the floor and place my hand on the hindquarter of the horse to let him know I am there. He twitches beneath my hand as I pet his coat, finding it to be in immaculate condition. I don’t know what this place is that I have found myself in, but they seem to care for the look of things and this horse and stable are no exception to that. I then quickly move to grab the horse's back hoof, trapping it between my knees to disable his movement. The man was right, Simon gave me no trouble and let me look at the underside of this hoof.

“Ahh,” I remark, “His shoe is too small. He has outgrown it by a large amount. This is causing him pain.”

The man huffs, “Sounds right. Our farrier has stopped coming to tend the horses. We haven’t seen him in several months. I fear it was a harsh winter last year and we’ve had no luck finding another,” he pauses, as I release the horse’s hoof, dusting my hands off on my trousers. The man extends his hand out to me, and I shake it, offering a small smile.

“Name’s Elijah, yours?”

I clear my throat as I grip his hand tightly, “Jak–Jacob,” I correct. “I’d love to get this horse fixed up for you if you have the tools?”

His eyes grow wide, “Are you a farrier?” he asks desperately.

“Not by trade, I’m a carpenter, but my father taught me much about horses, and this is one of those things.”

“I believe we have the tools, but no one has used them. If you follow me I can take you to them,” he urges.

I follow him out the large stall doors to the side of the building. As we walk I notice a large number of people walking the property near the home, admiring the gardens filled with azaleas and bright camellias. The people are dressed in fine clothing, finer than anything I’ve ever seen back home, and I wonder if I truly did make the jump to South Carolina. I didn’t really know what to expect but this was never in my imagination.

Elijah returns from the shed with a small bag of farriers tools, everything I will need to replace the horses shoes, down to custom horseshoes. Again I turn my gaze towards the house, seeing the main entrance as we walk towards the horse stables. A large green and white sign sits at the entrance of the walking path, finally answering the question of where I have found myself and where my girl is.

‘Magnolia Plantation and Gardens Ancestral Home of the Drayton Family Charleston, South Carolina Est. 1676 ’

—

Several hours and a farrying lesson later, Elijah feels confident in his newly acquired skill and I feel as though I have earned my reason to stay here and help out. When Elijah offered me the work, I took him up on it. The longer I am here, the more time I have to find Y/N. I will work in the stables with the horses, tending to their needs and helping Elijah manage the carriages and carriage house.

I follow behind him as he walks me to my living quarters. I am pleasantly surprised to find out that my accommodations are included in the job and that I wouldn’t have to venture into town to find something. He leads me to a row of small white wooden houses, just large enough for one room. The door creaks open as he steps inside, where a thin layer of dust is covering most of the surfaces.

“S’not much, but it gets you by,” he says, gesturing to the room. There is a wood burning fireplace in the center of the room, a small table and a chair, a full size bed with a few blankets and what looks to be a trunk for my belongings.

“Thank you, Elijah,” I answer with a nod, “It’s more than I expected.”

He nods at me as he begins to make his way out of the quarters, pausing briefly at the door. “Supper is at dusk, just as the guests leave. Meet me at the carriage house and I’ll walk you down and introduce you to some other folks.”

“Thank you,” I respond, feeling the rumble in my stomach.

He closes the wooden door behind himself, leaving me in the quiet dusty room. I take a seat on the small featherbed, happy to have it after spending the day hammering down horseshoes. I don’t know how long I will be here, but I am glad to have my own space somewhere close to Y/N. Now, I just have to find her.

—

I meet Elijah at the carriage house right at dusk, eager to fill my hungry stomach. We walk along the walking path, passing the main house and some of the fields when I finally get the nerve to ask.

“What crop is it, the one in the fields?” I ask, feeling slightly nervous.

He smiles and laughs as he throws his arm over my shoulder, “Well, that's Carolina Gold Rice boy. Don’t you know where you are?” he jokes, and just as you start to stammer back an answer, a loud dinner bell rings alerting the help staff to supper. A large steamboat is pulling away from the dock on property, black smoke rising up into the evening air.

We approach a building just off the main house that Elijah explains as the Dining House and Recreation Room for the staff. All meals are served here and this is where the staff comes to socialize after working hours. The room is lined with long tables and chairs, dimly lit by gas lanterns. It smells of kerosene and a warm meal, adding to the growing hunger in my stomach. I take a seat next to Elijah as he introduces me to a field worker named Henry and his wife Etta. They are kind folk and offer to show me around if I ever needed.

We all stand and make our way to the supper line as the kitchen staff plates our meals, which seems to be some sort of stew. As I carry my bowl back to the table a glass of water is set in front of me by a housemaid. I look at the stew, seeing that it is made with what is very likely the same rice from the field just outside. It's rich, with a tomato base and full of vegetables. It is sure to fill my stomach.

I listen as Etta and Elijah talk about the crop this year, trying my best to learn this new place I have found myself in. Henry looks to me as I spoon the stew into my mouth.

“You from around here, boy?” he asks.

I shake my head, “No sir. I’m new to this area, I’m from down South. Louisiana,” I answer.

He nods, “I have some family back in Louisiana,” he pauses. “You know anything about this place?”

“No sir, just what Elijah has told me,” I admit.

“So you didn’t fight in the War of the States?” he asks. I feel my pulse quicken as I struggle to answer him. I know nothing of the war he speaks of, but I think it best to be truthful.

“No sir.”

“I figured as much. You know, this place actually burned to the ground. S’why everything looks so new and shiny. Mr. Drayton poured a small fortune into rebuilding the property. He lost a lot of land but rebuilt it double the size.”

I clear my throat, “It’s– It’s a beautiful property, seems very well kept.”

Elijah chimes in, continuing the conversation with Henry as I turn my face back to my supper. But it's then, out of the corner of my eye I see a flash of blue fabric rush past. I lift my head to find a house maid in a pale blue dress filling a water glass at the table across from me. My heart nearly bursts out of my chest. I’ve found her. Her hair is tied in a braid at the nape of her neck, a pale blue ribbon tied in a neat bow at the bottom. She works diligently filling water glasses with a smile, and I realize that I’m just as taken with her in this life as I was in the past.

She turns quickly, spotting me behind her as I stare her down. Her eyes linger on mine for just a brief moment before looking away and returning to her work. My pulse is racing as my stew continues to drip off of my spoon into my bowl. It must be obvious that I’ve lost my mind when Elijah leans over and whispers over my shoulder.

“That's Ms. Y/N. She is the children's nursemaid. Not too sure why she is out here on supper duty tonight. Very beautiful woman, but a smart man would steer clear of her if he intends to keep his job.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat as I nod, bringing my nearly empty spoon to my lips.

“Now, I ain’t seen anything myself but, Mr. Drayton seems sweet on her,” he continues, keeping his voice low.

“Oh, he is unmarried? You mentioned children. Did his wife pass away?” I ask, looking for a little more insight.

He scoffs, “No sir, she hasn’t. Mrs. Drayton is alive and well, but is often away in town.”

I feel heat start to rise in my cheeks, “I don’t understand.”

Elijah looks around before he speaks again, “Rumor is that Mr. Drayton is after a male heir. His son passed in the States War and Mrs. Drayton has only given female children since.”

“How does that involve Ms. Y/N?” I ask, dropping my spoon into my bowl.

“I believe he intends to get one from… her.”

I feel my jaw tighten as I swallow harshly. “So are they– Do they, you know, get on well?”

“From what I have seen, quite the opposite. She despises him. Only stays to care for the children. She practically raised them. Quite a task since she is but a child herself. You ain’t hear none of this from me, ya hear?”

I nod my head quickly, turning to look over my shoulder for another glimpse of her, but as my eyes scan the room, I realize she is gone, and that maybe my purpose in this life isn’t to make her mine, but to keep her from someone with intentions much worse.

—

The outside sounds so different here. Once things are silent and I can hear the nocturnal earth come to life around me, I feel a little out of place, expecting to hear the crickets and frogs that I’m used to, but instead hearing sounds of creatures that I’ve never heard before.

My bed is hard and lumpy beneath my back, as it’s nothing but a sack filled with straw and feathers, but it’s better than sleeping on the ground. I take a deep breath as I realize I’m being hit time and time again with the realization of what I’ve done. I’ve jumped overtop of the hands of time, or swam beneath them, maybe, all to chase after a love that lasted no longer than a fortnight back in Louisiana.

“Insanity,” I mumble to myself as I turn over in my bed, gazing out the window to the high trees lining the property.

Insanity doesn’t even begin to cover it.

I’m a cursed man, what did I even expect of myself? To live my normal life day to day, simply being happy with the fact that I’ll stay twenty-five forever? No. My life wasn’t mine, anymore. And I have my brother to thank for that. This is a distraction…perhaps. Something to live for, chasing after Y/N lifetime over lifetime.

It’s disorienting to recognize that I seem to have landed in the exact place that she resides; I wonder if it will always be that easy. Seraphine didn’t give me that detail, probably because it was unknown to her. Happenstance or not, I guess I will have to find out on my own.

My eyes are growing heavy as I let the peaceful new sounds lull me to sleep, the harsh smell of manure and straw now beginning to embed themselves into my skin and clothing. The scent reminds me of times past with my father and Joshua as he taught us everything we ever knew about equine life. And carpentry. And silversmithing.

I grip my silver charm in my hand as I finally let sleep begin to overtake me. It brings me comfort for some reason, though the hands that crafted this talisman hated me so that he purposefully changed the trajectory of my life, and, unknown to him, changed his own life in the process. I wonder where Joshua has ended up, I wonder how he felt when he landed here in this new time and space. I wonder how confused he is, how terrified that we’re now alive eleven years in the future, in a different universe altogether. He doesn’t have the comfort of the book that Sera gave me, or the advice she bestowed me with. He’s clueless, out there wandering around aimlessly. I wonder how long it will take him to realize that his whole plan may have backfired.

A stream of thoughts enters my mind, and I think back on what Elijah had said about how Y/N despises Mr. Drayton. I wanted to press him for details, but the last thing I need is suspicion. My judge of character tells me that Elijah is trustworthy, though I do need some time to solidify that.

She looked beautiful today, even from afar. Just the same in her mannerisms and movements, but all the more different at the same time. The draw my body feels to her is still very much alive and well, and I’m thankful that I was able to feel my heart rate rise from seeing her again. I drift off to thoughts of her, how her lips felt on mine the day at the pond, how she felt writhing beneath me, and how my chest caved in on itself the night the doctor told me she hadn’t made it. A fate I would wish upon no man to ever experience.

But suddenly I’m awoken by a different sound, and it trumps my thoughts and the crickets lulling me. It’s rustling in the grasses, it’s laughter in the distance. I sit up in my bed and rub my tired eyes, pulling my blanket from across my lap to grab my bedside candle. I quietly creep across the squeaky boards of my quarters, allowing the glow of the light to follow me along to the window. I suddenly panic, realizing that I don’t have any protection in case an intruder of sorts were coming up on me.

It’s then that I catch sight of another candle flame off in the distance, right underneath the largest iron oak tree I’ve ever seen. I peer more closely and finally make out what I’m seeing, four little girls barefoot and dressed in their white nightgowns, dancing around the base of the tree trunk.

Must be Mr. Drayton’s daughters.

I smile as I watch them dance, holding hands and twirling around as they laugh and whisper to one another. They’re all very young, I notice, ranging from only maybe five to twelve years. The cool, thick air makes their breath visible, and I wonder what on earth they’re doing out here in the middle of the night. And why Y/N isn’t with them.

I grin ear to ear when I realize they must have been feeling mischievous and snuck out of the home, much like Joshua and I would do as children. For no reason, other than feeling a sense of freedom and rebellion that only came with escaping from our house while our Father was fast asleep.

I watch as the littlest one begins to try and climb the thick, low branches of the tree, making it fairly far up before her sisters take notice, but do little about it as they continue dancing and playing in the shadows. Her agility astounds me, for as little as she is.

But my impression is short lived, as I watch her lose her balance and topple off the branch onto the ground below her, immediately shrieking out in pain. Her sisters rush to her as I can hear her cries through my thin walls, and I contemplate on whether or not I should go to them. I don’t know them, I hardly know anyone here… but I can’t let her just lie there in pain if she truly has injured herself.

I step into my boots and rush out the door, hearing her sisters begin to cry along with her as her tiny voice shrieks. I pick up my pace as I rush more quickly to them, finally reaching the circle they’ve made around her. “Hey there, excuse me… My name is Jacob… is everyone alright?” I say before I approach them gently, not wanting to startle them too much in the darkness. “Where is your caretaker?”

The oldest one rushes to me, taking my hand and pulling me over to the scene. “Please help us, it’s Lottie, she fell! She hurt her arm!” she cries, gripping my elbow as I realize things might be worse than I’d thought. I gently kneel beside the girl and take a closer look, seeing that her wrist is already swelling.

“What’s your name, again?” I ask her as I offer to take her arm.

“L–Lottie… it hurts re-really baddddd,” she wails through loud cries, but she lets me take her injured limb. It’s most definitely sprained, and already bruising. I gently manipulate my fingers across her bones, thankfully feeling no break.

“I know it must hurt, but you’re going to be just fine. Why are you girls out here so late? Why have you snuck out–”

“Please help her, mister!” the girls cry, just as scared for their baby sister as she is for herself. They must know they are going to be in trouble, too, for sneaking out past their bedtimes.

I feel conflicted as I look around, debating on whether or not I should call for someone else, or if I should take the responsibility of carrying the girl back to the house. No one knows me here, yet, and seeing a strange man carrying the little girl could look badly on me. Her wrist continues to swell as she cries, and the girls all begin to panic.

“Lottie!” I hear a familiar voice off in the distance, traveling across the grounds and directly through my heart. “Kit, Marian, Evey… you girls step away from that man immediately!” She isn’t happy, just as my internal thoughts had presumed. I quickly rise from my kneel on the ground and stand, not wanting to startle her any more. “You get back from them, do you hear?!” she yells at me as she rushes across the yard.

Still just as fiery and beautiful as ever.

When she finally approaches, she puts both of her hands forcefully on my chest, pushing me backward until I stumble into the dirt. “How dare you! Who are you?!” she screams in my face, not caring a bit that I’ve fallen down. I watch as she rushes to Lottie, mumbling quiet concerned words to her as she assesses the scene. “Leave us be, get out of here, or I’m calling for Mr. Drayton!” she pushes her hand at the air behind her, telling me to vacate quickly.

She gathers Lottie in her arms as she spits disciplines at the other girls, her tone deep and frustrated as she yells at them.

“No no, Ma’am, please forgive me, I heard them outside playing and I watched her fall from the tree. I heard her crying and thought she had hurt herself, I’m so sorry, I just thought I could help,” I try and explain myself as I stand back up.

She looks to me with a grit on her features, her jaw clenched tightly as I see the fire burning in her eyes. Worried, of course.

“You’re a stranger, you shouldn’t have bothered–”

“No, Ms. Y/N, he was trying to help me, he tried to make me feel better, don’t yell at him,” Lottie explains through sobs.

“We don’t know this man, children, you mustn’t talk to strangers!” Y/N barks back at them. “Back to the house, all of you!” she yells with a snap of her fingers. I watch as the other three little girls scurry across the grass, Y/N and Lottie trailing behind in the heavy fog. I stand unmoving as I catch sight of her glancing back at me for just a second, likely memorizing my face for whatever wrath I will succumb to tomorrow.

I retreat back to my bed as I relax into a dissatisfied grunt, realizing that that couldn’t have gone worse.

—

It's a knock at the door that wakes me from my slumber. The sun is shining brightly through the dirty window and instinctively I pull myself up from my warm bedding to check for danger. As I peer through the glass I can see the figure of two people, and without a doubt one of them is Y/N.

I quickly pull on my trousers, tucking my hair behind my ears quickly before unlatching the door. I have no time for my shirt, but I don’t think that matters much as the knocking grows louder. A rush of nerves fill my body as I open the door, but the second I see Y/N it all disappears.

“Mornin’,” I say, greeting Y/N and Miss Lottie.

“Good morning sir, I’m sorry to wake you at such an early hour, but Lottie here would like to say something to you,” Y/N answers, ushering Lottie closer to the door.

I’m surprised to say the least, but more so I am sad to see the small girls’ wrist bundled up and in a splint. She seems shy, her cheeks turning pink as she begins to speak to me. I decide to meet her at eye level, crouching down before her as I rest my arms on my knees.

“Sowwy we sneaked out of Daddy’s house and woke you up in the middle of the night,” she says, her sweet voice like honey to my soul.

“And,” Y/N urges, nodding to the girl.

“And fank you for trying to help me feel better about my arm,” she finishes, looking up to Y/N for her approval.

A smile overtakes me, “Don’t be sorry for getting yourself injured on accident. Just be sorry that you couldn’t sneak back into bed without being caught.” I wink, earning me a big smile from the young miss.

I let my eyes meet Y/N’s, a smile now on her own face. My eyes flick back to Lottie as I examine her splint. “May I?” I ask, hoping for permission. Y/N nods and I begin to adjust the splint so that it may sit more comfortably on her small arm. I stand quickly, stepping back inside to grab my old handkerchief, nearly useless to me now.

I fashion a makeshift sling to hold her arm, relieving some of the pressure as I tie it over her shoulder. “There, not you won’t hurt it any further. Does it feel alright?” I ask her.

“Yes sir. Fank you mister…”

I stand, dusting off my hands as I answer her. “Kiszka. But you can call me Jacob.”

It’s then that I take in the sight of Y/N in the full morning sun. Her hair tied back with a ribbon, and a beautiful dress, much nicer than the ones I’ve ever seen back home.

Lottie begins to tug on Y/N’s skirts, looking back behind her as she hears her sisters playing off in the distance. “Can I go now, I want to play tag,” she asks Y/N, looking at her with longing eyes.

“You may, but you must be careful with your arm. Do you understand?” she answers, adjusting Lottie’s braids.

“Yes ma'am. I will!” she shouts, scampering off towards her sisters and leaving me and Y/N alone for the first time.

I stand there in my doorway, doing my best not to stare at Y/N or be obvious about my infatuation with her in this new time. Her eyes meet mine, slowly they drift down though, and it’s then I remember I don’t have my shirt on, and I suddenly feel warm under her gaze.

Though I may be warm, I can see her breath in the air of the early morning, the sun not warming the earth just yet.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asks me, still eyeing my naked torso.

I smile at her and shake my head, “No ma’am, I’m warm blooded. Always have been.”

Out of politeness I step inside and grab my shirt, pulling the laces tight around my neck, before tucking it into my trousers. Her eyes never leave me though, clearly fascinated by me.

She pulls them away once she has noticed that I’ve caught her, quickly changing the subject as her cheeks grow flushed.

“Thank you– For trying to help little Lottie. The girls like to sneak out in the middle of the night and pretend they are runaways. This isn’t the first time I have chased them down late at night.” She smiles, and I find myself nearly swooning over the sweet sound of her voice, still a little raspy, just as I remember it to be.

“Oh, it’s no problem ma’am. I apologize for overstepping. I didn't know the extent of her injury and I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t hurt worse,” I say, continuing our small talk as I take her in fully, just as she does me.

“You know,” she pauses, “I saw you near the stables yesterday. Are you a new hire on property?”

I nod my head as I answer her, “Yes ma’am, just started as a farrier, helping out Elijah.”

“So then you would say you have an affinity for horses?” she confirms.

“Sure do. I grew up with them,” I reply.

I see her features soften, and a smile threatens her lips before she stifles it back. “Then you best get to the stables. I do believe they have already started their morning, and Mr. Drayton does not fool with tardiness.”

I quickly realize she is correct as I hear a horse whineigh in the distance.

“Yes, I should be on my way. Thank you,” I answer, pulling on my boots and grabbing my hat. I pull my door shut as I step down beside her on the wooden steps.

“Oh, and Jacob,” she calls out, causing me to spin around.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I also feel as if I should apologize for shoving you into the dirt. That wasn’t very ladylike of me,” she answers, looking a bit defeated.

“You were protecting the girls. Never be sorry for that,” I answer confidently, tipping my hat to her as I take one last look before heading off to start my day. But as I walk away I can feel her eyes burning into my shoulders, and I resist the urge to turn back, for fear if I do, my work shall never get done.

—

“Aaagghh! I’m definitely going to have to go into town for some new boots, now!” I hear Elijah shout from the next stall over. “Son of a bitch!”

I grin to myself as I adjust my hat and lean my rake against the wall, peering over to see what he is on about. I find him leaned over and cursing, scraping off a heavy bit of horse manure from the bottom of his boot. The heel has come completely off of the rest of the shoe.

“Did any get on your foot, mate?” I ask, trying to contain my laughter.

“Yes, of course it got on my foot, you nimwit!” he yells as he continues to try and clean himself, eventually giving up and waddling outside to the water troughs.

My eyes follow him out the stable front doors outside into the yards, and the most beautiful sight catches my eye, Ms. Y/N and the children following alongside her. They’re headed right our way.

“Afternoon, Ma’am,” I hear Elijah say as he tips his hat and passes her, “and little Ma’ams…”

My heart is in my throat as I watch her approach from under my hat, clasping her hands behind her back as she takes in the order of the stables. I try not to make myself known, keeping to raking out the old straw as I stay quiet. I haven’t seen her in days, and I can feel my emotions swirling as her proximity tightens in on me.

“Good afternoon, Jacob,” I hear her sweet voice greet me, still hiding a bit in the shadows as the girls run around freely.

I clear my throat. “Oh, good afternoon, how is everyone today?” I ask, my voice shaky. I watch as little Lottie rounds the backs of her legs, her arms gripping around them as she hugs her. The wrist she injured is still wrapped, but she doesn’t seem to be as bothered by it as she was before. “Not climbing anymore trees, I presume?” I wink at her.

“No, no more trees for quite a while,” Y/N laughs, running her hand along Lottie’s curly hair. “We actually thought we would stop by for another reason… We have a proposition for you, Sir.”

My interest is piqued, and I’m sure my expressions show it. I lean the rake against the wall again and extend my hand for them to follow me into a larger room of the stables. “Do tell?” I ask.

Now, Lottie and Y/N are hand-in-hand as we walk, and I can’t help but swoon at the visual of the relationship the two of them obviously have. I know that she cares for these girls as if they are her own.

“Well, for months now, Lottie has been saying how she wants nothing more than to learn to ride horses, but we’re being burdened by one problem,” she explains with a lull in her voice.

“Besides the fact that she’s still so small…?” I jest, bulging my eyes at Lottie, making her skitter off into the corner.

“She’s actually very, very scared of the creatures,” Y/N whispers. “I told her there was nothing to fear of them, though they are giants in her eyes. She’s intrigued by them, but I think she just needs a little assistance in the getting used to them department.”

I bite my tongue into the corner of my mouth. “Aha, I see.”

“So, yesterday she said that she knows that Mr. Jacob works with the horses…and…”

I nod quickly as I take a deep breath. “I understand. I’d be more than happy to help her become more comfortable around them.”

I watch as Y/N’s face lights up, her eyes sparkling in the bright afternoon sunlight. “Oh, really, Jacob? Would you? If you have the time, of course…”

I ignore her formalities, instead going to the corner that Lottie has hidden herself in. I squat down to her level, watching as she cowers away just a bit. I slap my dirty hands against my trousers, and give her a reassuring smile. “How is your arm today, Miss Lottie? Not hurting too badly anymore?”

She slowly shakes her head. “Not so bad, now,” she answers quietly.

“Good,” I say, standing back up and offering my hand to her. “Come on, I hear you want to meet a horse.”

I feel her tiny hand slip into mine, and I take this as a move in the right direction, step one of overcoming her fear with her. I walk with her along the stable openings, the horses leaning their heads out one by one as we pass.

“This one here is Fitzgerald, but we like to call him Fitz. He’s young, just like you. Full of energy. And this is Copper, she’s very fast.”

“How fast, Mr. Jacob?” she asks, squeezing onto my hand.

“So fast that you can hardly see her as she zips past you! Quick as a lightning strike!” I explain with animation.

“And this is Frasier, Barclay, and Piper… and this one, this one is my favorite. Her name is Cecily.” I take my time introducing her to this last one, the one that I am trusting the most to try and let Lottie ride.

“Cecily,” she repeats back, a bit of a lisp on her tongue.

“That’s right. Cecily is twenty-four years old, if you can believe that,” I say.

“My father purchased her when I was one year old,” I hear Y/N behind me, her voice gentle and reminiscent. I pause as I watch her run her hand along the animal’s nose. “The first horse I ever rode.” My heart swells again. She has a love for them in this life, too.

“Then that is somethin’ you and Lottie will have in common, hm?” I say, leaning into her just a bit. I watch as her cheeks brighten with pink as I make a point to let my eyes linger on hers for just a second too long.

“Come on, Lottie,” I say as I grip under her armpits, lifting her to eye level with Cecily. “See? She is very sweet, even Ms. Y/N will pet her.”

Lottie feels terrified in my grasp, but she bravely lifts her unbandaged hand, hesitating as she decides if she wants to touch her.

“Go ahead, she won’t hurt you,” I encourage. And finally, she lets herself make contact, earning a sweet huff of air from Cecily’s nose. Lottie giggles loudly.

“Would you like to ride her?” I ask, placing her back down on the ground.

“Nooo, no! I don’t wanna! I’m too a-scared!” she cries, whipping herself away again to hide behind Y/N’s skirts.

I hear Y/N exhale a rough breath. “Well, this was progress, at least. She’d never even go near the stables before, let alone touch one of them. This is a big step forward–”

“What if I walk along with you?” I coyly interrupt her, looking back to Lottie.

She snarls her nose. “If I ride one, can Ms. Y/N ride one, too?”

I look back to her in question. “We can saddle one for her, too, and you can ride alongside her, perhaps?”

I watch as Lottie thinks through the options I’ve given her, before confidently stopping on one. “Hm, no, I wanna go with you, Mr. Jacob.”

I laugh along with Y/N, opening the door to Cecily’s stall. “Alright, it’s settled then. Though I don’t know many good trails around here, I am still very new, you know… But I’m sure Ms. Y/N does.”

She smiles, “Yes, I suppose I’ll have to show you around if you’re going to be the one keeping our horses healthy.”

I put the finishing touches on the saddles and help Lottie up onto Cecily, still a bit nervous but less scared than before. “Hold on tight, with your good hand, just there. Perfect.”

I swear the old mare recognizes that Lottie is nervous as she gently trots around the field, carefully stepping over rivets in the ground from the plows. “See, Lottie? Not so bad huh?” I press, glancing at Y/N trailing behind with a soft smile on her face. “And you’re doing it all by yourself.”

“Not so bad,” she quietly replies, and I can tell her expression has softened.

“Y/N, this way?” I ask, pointing to a clearing in the hedgerow. She nods and I walk the horse forward into the coverage of trees, giving us a little shade as we maneuver the worn-in trail. We go along for fifteen minutes or so and I listen to Lottie go on about the trees, her sisters, and Cecily, answering all the questions I can while knowing that Y/N could answer them better than I could.

“Ms. Y/N, did you name her? Or did Grandfather?” Lottie asks, turning a bit to see her on her own horse.

“I didn’t name her, she was still just a baby when she came to us, and I wasn’t yet old enough to talk. Do you like her? Are you still afraid?” Y/N asks. My heart is thrumming as I listen to her speak, soft and understanding.

“I’m not so scared anymore, but I still don’t wanna do it by myself. I want Mr. Jacob to go all the time,” Lottie says, avoiding my eyes but still making me blush.

We round back to the stables and I help Lottie off her horse, watching as she scurries away back to her sisters. “I did it! I rided a horse!” I hear her squeal with excitement as she rejoins them, her wrapped arm flying into the air above her head.

As I begin unsaddling, I feel Y/N at my side, her presence beginning to feel more and more familiar to me now. It’s as if just the energy she emotes is recognized by mine, meshing together in our own space in time.

“Thank you, Mr. Jacob, I can’t explain how appreciative I am that you took the time to help her, she seems so much more at ease with you, I could never even get her to go near them,” she says, pushing her hat back on top of her head.

I turn, adjusting my own brim to shield the sun, allowing me a more clear view of the face I’m falling more and more in love with as the minutes tick past. “The pleasure’s mine, Ma’am. I hope she wants to return, and learn more. I’ll give her my time as often as I can.”

The smile that ticks at the corners of her lips makes me forget how to breathe as her eyes search mine for something else, suddenly. She huffs an inhale, almost as if she is second-guessing her words. “I notice you have a way with people, Jacob, but even more so a way with children. And I believe that’s a trait that is very admirable in a man.”

I fight down a swallow, trying to stand firm as my knees want to buckle beneath me. “Thank you, Ma’am. I do enjoy watching the world from their perspective, seeing things so much larger and so much more unimportant than we do. Paying attention to only what’s in front of them, instead of what will come next. It’s refreshing, you know,” I respond, biting my lips in as my eyes scan her face. I watch as her eyelashes flick rapidly, likely experiencing the same shift in the air as I am.

“Yes,” she whispers, clearing her throat. “I–I will see you next time?”

“I’ll be here waiting, Ma’am,” I reply, tipping my hat her way as she turns, giving me a double-take as I watch her drift back off toward the girls.

—

Several days pass with no sight of her, and I begin to wonder where she’s hiding. I’ve not seen the girls either, the property eerily quiet for this time of day. I check for them every night on my walk to supper, passing the main house on my way. Tonight though, I walk with Elijah and do my best to not seem obvious as I look for any sign of the girls or Y/N.

We can smell the food a good few minutes before we reach the Dining House, and I can feel my stomach start to rumble with hunger. I haven't eaten since breakfast this morning, skipping lunch to finish polishing the leather saddles. My feet start to carry me faster as the smell of supper gets stronger, and Elijah matches my pace.

“Eager for supper?” he asks, shooting me a grin.

“Yessir, always.” I respond, pulling open the door to let him enter.

We both enter the line, and as we make our way towards the serving table I see her. My brow furrows in confusion and Elijah must have noticed.

“Ain’t usual for her to be in here,” he pauses, “Must be some good reason.”

I nod my head in agreement, but when I watch the smile on her face grow as she serves the food, I find a smile appearing on my own lips.

A nervous flutter fills my belly as I step up to her, holding out my plate as she scoops the rice dish onto it. It’s not something I recognize, but it smells like heaven.

“Hello Jacob,” she grins, sneaking me an extra half serving. Her eyelashes dust her pink cheeks as she suddenly seems bashful.

“Hey there,” I answer with a smirk, “Wasn’t expecting to see you in here this evening.”

She nods as her tongue wets her lips, “No, no. You’re right, I convinced Harrell to let me try a new recipe tonight and it was only right that I serve it as well. Was hoping to get everyone's true opinion on it.”

Shock fills me as I look at her, “You made this?”

She nods a shy nod as she scoops the dish onto the next man's plate. “I did. I hope you like it.”

I want to answer her but before I can get the words out, I am at the end of the serving line and she’s moved on to the next person. I make my way towards the table Elijah selected for the night, setting down my plate as my mind reels about her cooking.

“I’m just as surprised to see her as you are,” he smiles, taking a large bite of his food. “She is never in here with us.”

“Yeah, she just told me she made this meal and wanted to help serve it.”

“Well I’ll be sure to let her know what I think,” he says, as I take my first bite, and as I taste it, I know that if I wasn’t already in love with the woman, I sure would be now.

—

With my belly full of Y/N’s delicious meal, I feel myself starting to grow tired. Today was a long day, and one of the horses got ornery on me. I know that once I return to my quarters I will fall right into bed and sleep straight through ‘til morning.

I feel an elbow nudge at my side, startling me from my tired daydreaming. I see that Y/N has joined me at the table, finally finished with her duties.

“Well, did you enjoy it?” he asks, twiddling her thumbs together in her lap.

“Best meal I’ve had since I’ve been here, swear it.”

She smiles at me through closed lips, her eyes twinkling in the dimness of the room. “Would you like to go somewhere with me?” she asks.

“Me?”

“Yes you, I want to show you something.” she confirms, her eyes never leaving mine.

I turn to look at Elijah, who is already looking at me with a grin. He raises his eyebrows and turns back to his conversation, silently telling me I should go. As I turn to look back at her I nod my head, “‘M all yours.”

—

The air has started to cool significantly since the sun went down, and I now find myself unrolling my sleeves as Y/N and I walk. I have yet to walk this path since I have been here, never finding myself on this side of the property. It’s quite beautiful, a long winding dirt path that is leading up towards the wooded area of the grounds.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” I ask, flashing her a small curious smile.

“Only the best place on the whole property. My favorite place in the world, I think,” she answers, pulling my arm as we take a right at the fork in the path. The moon is shining through the large oak trees, a silver blue cast landing on her face. Our arms are now intertwined, and I feel my heart start to beat a little harder at the contact.

“We’re almost there now,” she continues, gripping my arm tightly as if I could fly away at any moment.

A few minutes later we are approaching a beautiful pond, surrounded by Oak trees filled with low hanging spanish moss. The moon reflects onto the lake a perfect round circle in the rippling water. She leads me to a tree close to the bank of the pond, perching herself on a soft patch of grass. I sit down next to her, letting my legs stretch out and crossing them at the ankles. I lean back on my hands to match her position, feeling the soreness of my body from today's work.

“This is a very beautiful place,” I say softly, breaking the silence.

“I’ve come here since I was a child,” she answers, her tone soft, matching mine.

“Tell me about your family,” I say, turning to look at her as she fiddles with her braid.

“I wish there was more to tell, but sadly there isn’t. They aren’t here anymore.”

I swallow harshly, “Mine either.”

Her eyes quickly dart to mine, “I’m so sorry, Jacob.”

“Do you think you will have a family one day?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I do, but I don’t believe it will be of my own choice,” she answers, causing me to furrow my brows.

“Why’s that?” I ask, wondering what she could mean.

“Well,” she pauses, looking towards the moonlit pond, “I believe that Mr. Drayton has plans for me.��

I feel my blood start to heat, “What sort of plans?”

She lets out a long, pained exhale. “I was to be married to Charles. Mister Drayton’s only son. He and I were courting when he was drafted for the war.” she pauses, swallowing hard. “He never came back, passed on in battle I was told. Mister Drayton was very angry for some time, though he allowed me to move to the property to be with the family. It’s how I came to care for the girls.”

“I see.” I breathe. I’d never heard of Charles in my time here, so this came as a surprise.

“One night, Mister Drayton was on a drunk. He wasn’t fairing well with Charles’ passing. He told me I was to give him the heir to his fortune, whether it be Charles or him, and with Charles gone, I knew what he was insinuating,” she pauses. “Thankfully he has never spoken of it again, and I do my best to avoid him in the home.”

“Y/N, that’s– He can’t do that. What about Mrs. Drayton?” I stumble.

“She can only bear girls, apparently. Though I don’t know how true that is,” she murmurs. “I believe that Charles and I– We could have–I did love him…”

“I am very sorry for your loss, Y/N,” I say, truly grieving for her and her situation.

“Thank you, Jacob. Though much time has passed now, and I have finally begun to feel something again after all this time,” she says, turning to me and resting her head on her shoulder. “Thanks to you.”

I feel my cheeks heat with diffidence as I take in the beauty of her face and the authenticity of her words. I reach for her small, soft hand, and bring it to my lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the top of her palm. “I as well, Miss Y/N.”

We sit there for a few still minutes, watching the turtles come to the top of the water. I feel content in her presence and I believe she feels content in mine. She is beautiful in the lighting, and I yearn to tell her so, but I think it inappropriate after all she has shared with me tonight.

“It is getting rather late,” I say, looking to her. “I should get you back.”

“One of the other housemaids is tending to the children tonight. I was hoping for you and I to take this walk this evening,” she answers with a sweet smile.

“I am very glad we did. Thank you for showin’ me this place. It’s very peaceful.”

“Could I walk with you back to your quarters?” she asks, taking my hand as I help her up from our grassy spot.

“If you’d like, though you do not have to,” I answer, hoping she will choose to join me.

“I’d like that very much,” she says, as she grabs my chilled hand and begins to pull me back down the walking path.

—

Far too quickly we reach my living quarters, the conversation between us flowing so naturally it’s as if she's waited for someone to connect with in this way. I hang on her every word, memorizing every facet of her face as she speaks so freely to me. It’s only when we reach my door that I remember how exhausted I truly am.

“Would you… would you like to join me inside? It isn’t much to look at, but it is warmer there,” I say shyly.

A gentle smile parts her lips as she softly shakes her head, “No Jacob, I must get back to the main house. I don’t want to be caught by Mr. Drayton. He tends to wander the main floor at this hour.”

“I understand, you must go then,” I say, feeling a sharp pain ripple through my abdomen.

“Are you alright?” Y/N asks startled, reaching for my arm.

“Yes, yes,” I lie, “Just weary from the day's work. You go, and I will be seeing you, alright?”

“Thank you, Jacob,” she smiles, pulling her hand from my arm, and lifting her skirts to run towards the main house.

I watch until I can no longer see her before stepping inside my quarters. Quickly I remove my shirt to see what has pained me, and what I find is something I was warned of. My burn scar is fiery red and angry. My first signs that my time here is beginning to tick away.

Remembering Seraphine’s warning, I quickly find my bag of personal effects and reach for my book that is to be my guide to my next jump. I open it swiftly to the next page, and much to my dismay, ink has begun to spread across the page. “Damn it…” I mumble, feeling a rush of anxiousness run through me. The words are not yet visible, but I know that in a short amount of time they will, and my time here with Y/N will be done.

—

Two Weeks Later

It’s been a fortnight since mine and Y/N’s first walk to the pond, and since that night, she’s joined me every evening since, pacing around and wasting our time together. We’ve been talking and getting to know one another, and I take my time in knowing that in this life, her personality feels so eerily different, yet her soul is just the same. I can’t help but notice that her body language has changed just a bit… almost as if she is becoming more and more comfortable with me as the days pass. I’ll never overstep the boundary, though my hands are aching to reach out and touch her.

Tonight after our walk, Elijah has joined me in the stables for a nightcap. We can see our breath as it floats over the air, and even though I have been around the cold, I have never really had to live and work in it.

“I’ll bring you a pair of my spare gloves tomorrow, got sheep’s wool on the insides. Keep your hands from blisterin’ in this temperature,” Elijah offers, noticing the dryness of my hands.

“Appreciate that, friend,” I reply, rubbing them together.

“Mmmhm,” he goes on, passing the whiskey bottle back to me. “Can’t have Ms. Y/N noticin’ your hands rough on her, now, can we?” he jests.

“Elijah… Now…” I scold him as he laughs at me.

“Gonna get in over your head, boy. Better watch yourself. Mr. Drayton may not show his face much, but he ain’t none to bother with. I can assure you of that,” he warns. “Don’t want you to be the one causin’ trouble in his paradise.”

I take another sip of the spirit and take a deep inhale, watching as the stars begin to debut themselves in the sky. “Trouble always finds me. I’m used to running from it. The hard part is deciding what kind of trouble to stick around for.”

He studies me as silence falls between us. “You love her?”

I dart my eyes to him. “I barely know her, Eli. How can I love someone I hardly know?” I hope that I am a better liar than I am a friend. Little does Elijah know, our friendship is destined to be short-lived, and his apparent judge of my character as of late is spot-on.

“‘Cause I see that look in your eyes whenever she’s ‘round. See your face shade, your hands jitter. I may be well past my prime, but I know a man in love when I see one.” He cackles again as he pushes my shoulder, taking another nip from the bottle.

I shake my head at him. “You’re drunk, Eli.”

“And what of it, kid?” he smiles.

Just then, we’re interrupted by the ghost of an image running across the front doors of the stables, rushing past without even a pause. “What in God’s name was that?” he asks as we both stand to rush to the door. In the darkness, I catch sight of the billowing skirts of a woman’s dress rushing through the high grasses of the field. “Is that Ms. Y/N?!”

“It is,” I breathe, frozen in place as I watch her run for her life.

“Speak of the devil…” Elijah whispers, and within seconds, I am running behind her, following her across the grasses and into the field. I have to run at full speed to catch up to her, and it is only when I get close that I can hear that she is crying.

“Y/N,” I yell after her. “Stop!”

She finally slows her pace as she hears me behind her, folding herself in half as she crouches down into the weeds and grasses. As I finally reach her, I hear her wailing… her face full of terror and tears as she tries to make herself calm. My heart falls. Something bad has happened.

I kneel beside her and place my hand gently on her knee, her dress scuffed up and dirty from the muddy ground. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” I ask, desperate to help her.

“Mr. Drayton… he–he’s drunk…” she cries. Her hair is falling from it’s usual perfect braid, messy and in her face as it sticks to her tear-soaked cheeks. Her voice is barely audible from her cries. “He finally tried to–to take his chance…”

“What chance, Y/N? What did he do?” I ask, pushing the hair from her face to get a better look at her.

All she does is look up at me, an emotion worse than fear written all over her. “Did he hurt you?” I ask. Her face falls as her hands grip onto me, using me to hold herself up.

“He tried, but I broke free, I ran,” she says. “He almost… He nearly…”

I feel a rage billowing up inside me, one that I have never really felt before. And I realize in this very moment that I’d go to the end of the earth to find that man, and do whatever it took to make him feel the fear that is radiating from her, right now.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” I whisper.

“No, no you’re not, Jacob. You’ll do nothing of the sort,” she demands, her voice suddenly deep and commanding.

“Where are the girls?” I ask. “Are they safe?”

“Yes, yes,” she sobs. “They’re with their mother in Virginia.” I study her face as she tries to clean herself up, wiping her tears and fixing her hair as I still keep a firm grip on her shoulders.

“Go back to my quarters. Run. Go inside, lock it behind you. I’ll be right there,” I say. Her eyes peer up to me, and I swear that I see the entire universe in them, just like I did that day at the dock.

“Alright,” she whispers, and to my surprise, she doesn’t argue. She wants to go. I help her get to her feet and I lead us out of the grasses, sending her off quickly toward my quarters. I rush back to the stables to find Elijah trying to busy himself, probably confused as he watched us in the field from afar.

“Saw her head back your way, son. Why’d you come back here?” he laughs.

“This isn’t a time for laughter, Eli,” I say as I finish up the duties I had half-ignored earlier. The whiskey is long gone from my system after that rush of nerves.

“Oh,” he says, now full of concern. “Is… is she alright?”

I don’t answer, instead I give him a look that I know he will recognize. He takes my glare as it is, nodding in understanding. “I’ll take care of the rest of this, son. Go on. Go to her.”

Within minutes I am back to the line of small, run-down buildings under the iron oaks, rushing through the drying mud to get to my own. I step up on the singular wooden step, seeing that she has lit a candle inside. “It’s me,” I say quietly as I knock on the door. I hear her rustle inside before the lock is being undone and the door is slowly swinging open. She’s wrapped in my blanket, slowly pacing around the place as her eyes stay trained on the floor.

I turn and lock the door again behind me. I’d long since let the fire burn out, so I take my time in relighting it, adding my breath to the few still-burning embers to create a flame. I throw four or five logs on and make sure they catch before turning my attention. She’s still pacing behind me, and I wrack my mind trying to think of what to do, what to say. What do I even say?

After the fire is lit, I feel it beginning to warm the air around us quickly. I take a seat on my bed, watching as her back repeatedly turns to and from me. Her anxiety is making me nervous.

“Y/N,” I finally whisper. “Come here, come sit.” I put my hand to the bed beside me, knowing that if I am going to even begin to comfort her tonight, I first need her to relax just a bit. Easier said than done, I already know.

She pauses a second, her thumbnail between her two front teeth. Finally she comes and sits beside me, letting out a shaky breath I know she has been holding since she got here. I know she is terrified, I know her mind is on another plane, entirely. Slowly, I feel her head crane sideways to rest on my shoulder, and her breathing even out just a bit. I bring my arm around her back and shoulders, pulling her in just a bit to let her know that she can relax. “It’s alright, you’re safe here. I’m not goin’ to let anything else happen to you.”

I hear her sniffle through a cry, but this one sounds different than her ones in the field. This one sounds as if she has let her demons fall away, letting the light of clarity overtake her. “You can stay here as long as you like,” I offer. I feel her head nod on my shoulder.

Then, like all of the stars align, her arm wraps up and around me, and I feel her face bury against my neck. I shudder at it, my skin burning as I feel her breath lay hot against me.

“Thank you, Jacob,” she whispers, pressing her lips to the skin right below my ear. I know she can hear my heartbeat, there is no way that she can’t. My body is swirling with a fondness that I’ve found only in her, a warmth that only she can bring to my chest.

We stay this way for a few minutes as I feel her body start to soften against mine, and her fear begin to slowly subside. I know that soon, we will have to move from this position, especially if I want to continue to be the gentleman that I am.

“You can have the bed, I will take the floor,” I suggest, moving from my seat.

“No–” she says quickly. “No… I–Don’t be ridiculous. It’s too cold, you’ll freeze to death on the floor.”

I stand and meet her eyes, glowing just like the embers in my fireplace. “Then where do you suggest I sleep, Ma’am?”

Her face flushes as she brings her lips into her mouth, wetting them slightly before she speaks. “By me, of course. For warmth…”

All the air leaves my lungs, and I’m positive I couldn’t form a coherent word, if I tried. “Warmth…” I repeat.

She nods. “Would be a shame for either of us to… freeze…” I swallow down my emotions as she stands from her seat, letting the blanket she’s wrapped in fall back to the bed behind her. Her hands crawl to the center of her robes that are tied at the front of her chest. She pulls the tie, letting her heavy cloak fall to the floor, as well. She’s standing before me in much less clothing than I thought I’d see her in, tonight, but the last thing I’m going to do is argue it. She steps closer to me, and I can feel my nerves begin to bubble up inside me again. She turns slowly, pulling her hair to the side. “Help with my corset?” she asks, peering over her shoulder.

My fingers tremble in rhythm with the pounding of my heart in my chest as I think about her inquiry. I can’t deny her, who would I be to not help her? With shaking hands I take the ends of the light blue ribbon between my fingers, giving it a light tug to free the bow and knot. It’s funny, knowing in the back of my mind that I have already done this once before, that day on the dock. In another life, in another time, completely…

I loosen the ribbon and gently pull it, watching as she is able to take a full, deep breath after being freed of her confines. She lets the corset fall and she kicks it away, slowly turning to face me. I know the look on my face is surprising to say the least, but the way that the firelight ignites her features makes me fall for her all over again. So ethereally beautiful, so tempting in an uncountable amount of ways.

She shivers harshly as the warmth from the fire hits her skin. “Would you like my… coat…?” I ask her, realizing the question is stupid as soon as I say it.

She laughs through her nose, shaking her head side to side. Her hands climb up to undo the buttons of my coat, slowly pulling them free one by one. My heart is in my throat, and I hope that she doesn’t notice my growing anxiousness. Her hands are barely touching me, and I can already hear my own breath becoming ragged. She pulls the jacket from my shoulders and I toss it to the side, my eyes never once leaving her face. Her fingertips slip underneath the straps of my suspenders, pulling them down to my sides one at a time. She’s moving so slowly that I could scream, but at the same time, there’s nothing I would want to last longer.

Next she begins to unfasten the buttons of my shirt, slowly still as she uses care to undo them. I feel a chill rush through my body at the touch of her hands on my barren skin, mixing in with my growing need for her to touch me more. “See, you’re cold, Jacob,” she says quietly.

“Your hands are like ice,” I mutter, my words sounding like mush in my mouth.

“Not for long,” she reassures me, pulling my arms free from the sleeves of my shirt. I watch as her expression changes, seeing me without any covering for the second time. She pulls the chain that hangs around my neck, straightening it so that the silver charm is settled in the center of my chest. “Where did you get this?”

“My brother made it for me,” I choke out, the memory of Joshua’s face racing through my mind for a split second.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, still running her hands along the chain, her fingertips barely dusting across my skin.

“Are you sure you do not want the bed, Y/N,” I ask rhetorically, trying to break free from the mesmerizing feeling of her touch.

She nods. “I’m sure. I want you… with me.”

“You do?” I ask, again.

“Yes,” she breathes, releasing the chain. She brings her face close to mine, her the tip of her pointer finger resting on the underside of my chin. “I have for weeks…” She pushes me backward, and I try my best to not stumble as I kick my boots off, leaving them laid across the floor.

She crawls backward into the bed, slitting her legs under the covers as she leaves them half-pulled back for me. I grab the blanket she had let fall behind her to cover us, as well, and against every nerve ending in my body telling me not to, I slide in beside her. I feel her shiver as the heat from our bodies meets, warm and welcoming as we rely on each other for it. She presses into my side as she shudders through it again. “Are you okay?” I ask, pulling my arm around her.

“I am now,” she breathes.

Her head comes to lay beside mine on my singular pillow, and I turn my face to meet hers. I can tell the both of us are having trouble steadying our breaths, and I can feel my hands burning to reach out and touch her. Like she can hear my thoughts, her hand reaches up to rest on my chest, her skin a bit warmer than it was before.

“Your heart, Jacob. It’s pounding,” she says. I swallow it down, suddenly feeling confident.

“Of course it is, I’m lying beside you,” I say, watching as her eyes scan my face. The glimmer of the fire reflects in them, only making them harder to look away from. “You’re– I’m enamored by you.”

“But, I’m nothing but a nurserymaid,” she answers, smiling just a little.

I shake my head, letting my hand land on her cheek as I whisper, “No, you’re more than just that. You’re the most desirable being that I’ve ever encountered.”

I hear her inhale as her lips press quickly to mine, light and feathery at first as she lets them linger for only a second, before pulling away. She studies me again, and when she finds that I’m not denying her, she leans in again, this time with a bit more conviction. My hand that was resting on her cheek now cups her jaw as I kiss her back, my entire body burning with a heat that the fire beside me must envy. Her lips are softer than any flower petal I’ve ever held, and her touch is more edacious than any hold I’ve ever felt. I let myself become blind in the moment, realizing that every passing second with her is not promised for long.

I can taste her already. Sweet and just a little bit spicy as I take the initiative, letting my tongue begin to explore a little further. I hear the quietest whimper fall from her lips, and a surge of desire floods me. My muscles begin to become rigid in my body, and I give in to the temptation, removing my hand from her cheek to the back of her head, gently pulling a handful of her hair into a loose fist. Then I let it travel from there to her shoulder, then down her arm, then to balance on her waist. I feel her hips move into me as her lips part further than they have yet, urging me on as I feel her body pressed up against me.

I watch through hooded lids as her hands drift up to unbutton the top half of her gowns, revealing herself completely to me. I pull away for a second, and I feel my eyes bulge as I hiss through my teeth. Her tits sit so perfectly, and she’s displaying herself to me on a silver platter. My body tenses with want again as I feel myself growing harder for her. Her hands move from her buttons to tangle ferociously in my hair, pulling and entwining her fingers as I hungrily dive in for her again. This time the sound that falls from her lips is audible, and I can hardly contain myself as I let a pitiful moan fall, myself.

“Fuck… You’re…” I manage to say as I roll myself to lean up on my elbow, and my knee slots between her legs. Her hand pulls on my arm to bring me in closer, and her hips grind down onto my leg. My hand harshly grips onto her hip as I help her in her motions and pull her down on me, wanting to feel her just as badly as she probably feels me.

For a split second I find clarity, thinking back on the situation with Mr. Drayton that got her here, in the first place. I pray that she doesn’t feel uncomfortable, or for some reason that we must do this in order for her to stay with me. I pull away quickly, my hand still resting on her hip, my thumb dangerously close to her heat beneath her dressings. “Are you sure you want to be here? After everything tonight–”

“I don’t want to step foot into that house ever again,” she cuts me off. We stare at one another and I realize that we’re both out of breath, panting and heavy in the throes of our want for each other. Like she really wants to drive her positivity home, she takes my hand from her waist, pressing it to her barren breast. I pause before I let my hand grip on to her, and the feeling is unlike anything I’ve felt in a long, long while.

I decide to give in to her want for pleasure, and I begin massaging, my hand paying a special bit of attention to her more sensitive places. I grip her nipple between my fingers and kiss her harder, her body falling harshly onto my leg again as she searches for some type of relief. “God, Jacob...” Her motions are driving me wild, and I beg the heavens above to show mercy on me and my impure actions. I’ve never been a religious man, and it seems in this life, neither is she, but when your mind is stuck in the purgatory between manners and a lust heavier than anything you’ve ever felt, you begin to wonder if you need to apologize to someone for it.

Thankfully, my life is now a permanent purgatory, and deciding whether I go to Heaven or Hell isn’t up to me, anymore.

“Touch me, Jacob,” she breathes, and I swear that even if God’s army was fighting against me, I still wouldn’t be able to tell her no.

I pull the blankets even higher around us, and the fire beside us cracks, sending sparks up into the air. Quickly, my hand manages to creep under her garments and between her thighs now thick with the heat we’ve created. My mind swishes with desire as my hand searches, taking my time to caress her, feel her, tease her…

Finally I find where I was looking for and I slip my hand beneath her underwear, quickly sending my middle finger between her folds. God, the sound that comes from her is enough to make me want to come undone, in itself. She’s dripping with wetness, covering my finger like sun warmed honey. I want to taste her, I want to feast on her and have her calling my name over and over, but I know that will have to wait for another time.

Her hands are still gripped tightly in my hair as I watch her expressions turn up into the most beautiful pleasure, spurring me on to work her through every single bit of lustfulness she’s felt for me. I hear her voice bellow out with a shudder of her stomach, and I know I’ve found her sweet spot. “Yes?” I ask her.

She nods quickly, “Yes,” she breathes, biting onto my lips as I continue rubbing circles onto her. “Yes, please, please…” she cries, panting through her words. She’s so deliciously desirable as she lets herself be vulnerable with me, and I fear that my emotions and want for her will never be satiated. Ever. In this lifetime, or any other. And I haven’t even made love with her, yet.

I let my finger slowly enter her, and I begin pumping it inside her, watching as her jaw falls completely slacked. “Jacob…” she cries, my name in two syllables.

“M’right here, my love… right here…” I coax her, feeling no resentment in using that word with her, right now. My finger is buried deep inside her, and I feel her walls squeezing tightly around it. Our bodies are burning together, and I swear that I have never heard anything as sweet as my name on her lips. Her fingernails are digging into my skin as her hips begin to grind on my hand, viscous and ragged and messy as she searches for her peak. “Kiss me, Y/N,” I beg, “I want you to let go, and I want you to kiss me through it…”

Her lips crash onto mine again, this time with a want so furious I contemplate begging God to just let me go to Hell, if this is what I get to experience, there. Her tongue buries itself in my mouth as she licks up all of me that she can, knowing that the taste of me will be her downfall, too. She begins whimpering into my mouth, quietly at first before it builds and builds, echoing off the walls like a song sung by the archangels. I feel her whole body tighten as it hits her, pitiful and writhing as I feel her on my hand. My strands are pulled taut in her hands as she cries through the comedown, her lips still pressed forcefully to mine as she shakes.

Finally her body relaxes and my hair loosens in her grip, and I watch as her eyes peep open and see my face for the first time after experiencing her own version of a miracle. The way her gaze bounces back and forth from each of my eyes, I briefly wonder if she is deciding whether or not she’s made a mistake, but as her hands grip my face and she kisses me again, I know that my suspicion was unwarranted.

I remove my hand from her undergarments and lift her body, twisting her so that her back is to me, now. I cuddle myself into her hair, breathing in her scent and committing this version of her into the very depths of a memory that I won’t get to keep. My first time making her come for me, an experience that I never thought I would get to have in my other life. Neither of us say a word for a very long while as I make myself comfortable against her under the warmth of the covers.

“I was going to run away,” I hear her voice cut through the quiet of the night, startling me from what was near-sleep.

“What?” I ask.

“I was going to run from this place, from Mr. Drayton,” she says. “Start my own life my own way, do things on my own accord. But now, now I think I feel a little differently.” She turns her body to face me as I stay silent and wait for her explanation. “I’ve developed feelings for you, Jacob, feelings that I wasn’t sure I would ever have again. Not since losing Charles in the War…”

“No,” I interrupt her. “You can’t stay here, if you’d already had your mind set. Especially after what he could have done to you tonight… You should go. You should go as soon as you can.” Even though my love for her has grown tenfold in the past hour, there is nothing more I want for her than her own happiness, and if that happiness doesn’t include me, then so be it.

“What about you?” she asks.

I stop and think for a second, realizing that the only thing tying me here, is her. “I’ll go with you.”

“Really?!” she beams. “You’re not joking, Jacob?”

I shake my head, a smirk finding my lips. “I’m not joking, Y/N.”

“How? What will we do?” she asks.

I roll to my back, staring at the wood-slat ceiling above us and letting my mind fly away to a reality only I can create.

“I’ve got a plan.”

—

Seven days have passed. Seven days of repeating the plan to each other over and over in the quiet of the night. I feel certain that she can do this, and I hope I have instilled in her the confidence she needs to carry out this plan. Elijah knows what to do, and I have spent the last week preparing him to take over my role. The nights have been long but I know they will be worth it.

Today she will run. She will take the last steam boat set to depart at half past four, and I will join her when Elijah gives me the word that it is safe for me to join her. My things are packed and ready, and Elijah has given me an advance in my payment to last me for the next few weeks. Called it his parting gift for teaching him my ways.

The day seems to drag on, and I check my pocketwatch far too often. Time seems to be moving in slow motion as I count down the hours until we run. When the clock hits four I feel the nerves start to settle in my stomach, and my mind begins to run through worst case scenarios. I fear Mr. Drayton will see her attempting to leave and trap her.

My burn has begun to pain me daily, the ink in the book becoming more and more legible. I quickly make my way to my quarters and grab my belongings, closing the door behind me for the last time. I return to the stables and find that Elijah seems to be just as nervous as I am, his knee bouncing up and down as he watches the tour guests make their way back to the steam boat.

“It is almost time my brother,” he says in a low voice.

“Have you caught sight of her yet?” I ask, biding my farewell to the horses I have grown rather fond of.

“Not yet, but soon I reckon,” he answers with a tip of his chin.

I reach into my pocket, double checking that I have her ribbon. I am doing this for her, and I cannot leave this time without a reminder of her. A light blue ribbon to add to my book. A place marker to be sure I remember her in every life.

“I want to thank you, Elijah,” I pause, “I couldn’t have done all of this without you.”

“It has been my pleasure, and I wish you a prosperous life in the future, wherever that may be.”

I smile at him, little does he know just how fitting his words are to my situation.

“She’s there,” he says, “She is at the dock. I see her.”

I feel my body begin to tremble at his words. She's done it.

“It’s your time now, friend,” Elijah says, standing and extending his hand to me. I shake it in thanks, the both of us saying everything we need to say, wordlessly.

I grab my bag and tip my hat to him as I slip out the side of the stable house and begin to make my way to the ferry. I keep my head low and try to blend in with the folks around me. They are dressed way finer than I am, and I hope that doesn’t make me stick out to others.

My breathing grows heavy as I make my way down the dock, knowing that I should be able to find Y/N at the very back of the boat, just as we planned. The moment I step onto the boat I feel home free, though I know that is not the case just yet.

I make my way through the small crowd of people, offering thanks as they let me pass, and as I reach the very back I find her, sitting on a small wooden bench with a suitcase in her hands. Her head is down, just like I told her, but I could recognize the gleam of the sun on her hair, anywhere.

“Y/N,” I breathe, taking a seat next to her. “We made it.”

She turns to look at me with eyes full of hope, and slowly a smile spreads across her face. I brush my lips against her cheek as I kiss her, her hand reaching for mine.

“Everything is going to be okay, I made sure that no one followed us. We should depart soon.”

“Thank you, Jacob. Thank you,” she urges, squeezing my hand tightly in hers.

I feel the boat begin to pull away from the dock and the relief rolls off of me in waves. No one is going to stop us. We are finally free.

“The girls,” I breathe, suddenly remembering the reason I was able to speak with her in the first place.

“I wrote them. Each of them. Left the letters under their pillows for them to find. I will miss them terribly but I know I have taught them well.”

“I know you have. They were lucky to have you,” I confirm.

“They were going to be my little sisters, I’m happy I was able to be that for them for as long as we had…” she says, pursing her lips.

About halfway to the city I turn to look at her. The hope she feels is contagious, though she doesn’t know of my plans. I wish I could stay with her. I hardly slept last night as I tossed and turned with anxiety over it. Every day my burn scar hurts worse, andI know that at any moment I will leave this time and find myself in the next. I know this will hurt her deeply, so I say nothing of it. I know she will be safe now, and she didn’t notice as I slipped the small bag of money into her suitcase. I won’t need it, but she will.

Her body has grown more and more relaxed over the last several minutes, and as I turn to look at her, I see she has fallen asleep on the sidewall of the boat. I know it’s time. I know what I must do. I have saved her from Mr. Drayton and a life that she was running from. I loved her the best way I knew how in this life, and now it is time for me to move on to the next and do the same, whatever that may be.

With one final kiss to her cheek, I grab my bag and move away from her, remembering her only by the blue ribbon in my pocket. “Don’t miss me, Y/N… I will see you again soon.” It is the hardest thing to do, walking away from her, but I know I must go.

I find myself in a small corridor on the interior of the boat, lined with doors and the engine room. I slip into one of the rooms, a storage closet of sorts and I know this place will work for what I must accomplish. Shutting the door behind me I take a deep breath, telling myself I will remember this life and this version of my love. I will always remember her.

I pull my book from my bag and retrieve the blue ribbon from my pocket, tucking it into the page that reads ‘Charleston’. I couldn’t bring myself to turn to the next page. I’m not ready to see where I will land, but now, I have no choice. I pull the small mirror from my bag and open it, looking at myself in the reflection for the first time in several weeks. I look gruff and could use a serious shave, but I look happy. I look determined. I swallow deeply as I turn to the next page in the book, the ink dark and clear as day now. My hands tremble as I recall the words Seraphine recited to me, and prepare myself to start all over again, in a different time.

“Echoed glass, reveal the way, through the veil of night or day. Turn the key, unlock the door, let me walk through time once more.”

The feeling of euphoria takes over me as the words do what they were intended to do. A curse bestowed upon me, to chase my love forever through space and time. I think of my love and how I will find her in the next place. I feel the small space begin to swirl around me, my vision beginning to fade in and out as I start my jump to another world. Forcing my eyes to focus, I finally read the words on the page in front of me, and pray that Y/N will love me in this new time and place, just as she has in the past.

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