#Mans wrist must be getting tired after playing for so long | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yok00k · 10 months ago

Text

Igual Que Un Ángel

pairing: hellokittylover!/bimbo!oc x boxer!jk

genre: MATURE, fluff, lowkey angst,

“heaven must have sent you, love”

synopsis: after spending the entire day shopping with your boyfriend, you’re craving mochi donuts and bubble milk tea before going to bed and jungkook, even in his tired state, will do everything to make you happy.

word count: 5.4k

warnings: so much fluff, NO plot, jealous/possessive kook, oc can’t tell when someone flirts with her, tiny silent treatment, oc is kinda dumb, lots of kisses, shower sex, oral [m], oc’s head game is STRONG, head pusher jk, hair pulling, they went shopping for underwear, cussing, aftercare, oc is obsessed with pink/hello kitty, oc is so desperate for his cock and she must get what she wants⛄️(she was virgin before this took place), oc had a vid of her playing, mention of toys, JK is not trying to b obvious but he’s IN LOVE, brief cockwarming at the end, <not proofread>

author’s note: i def did not write this in between my classes😮‍💨 i just discovered that im mentally unhinged as im editing this in class. I have my priorities straights tho so here you go🥢

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

you suppose today was really wonderful.

you two spend almost the whole day at the outlet mall, mostly to shop clothes for yourself. you needed new pairs of undies and Jungkook being the glorious boyfriend he is, helped you shop. not only he paid for all your purchase, he also gives his opinions on certain cloth materials of what the underwear was made of. he wants to make himself useful by helping you out pick out make sure that they’re comfortable to your preference, he goes with you in the fitting room to try them on in front of him.

As you try on clothes for hours and hours in multiple shops, your boyfriend miraculously always finds a chair in the corner of each fitting room that he can rest on. a few hours later, you two arrive back at your place. jungkook initiated to carry all the paper bags you had as the two of you headed from the garage to inside your house.

soon, he began cooking the night’s dinner, which you really enjoy watching because he keeps entertaining you with his skillful talent and his humorous jokes. a quality time like this just makes you fall in love with him even more. you wish and pray that you can spend the rest of this delightful lifetime with him.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

the hands of the clock signifies 11:11, which is usually the time you drift off to sleep. except tonight isn’t a typical night, owing to the fact that your beloved lover is sleeping over at your cozy flat.

although it’s pretty late, you two are cuddled on your not-so-spacious couch, watching a kdrama that was recently released and you still have the clothes you put on this afternoon: a cute pink long sleeve crop top and a pink/black mini skirt. you also can’t forget to add a pair of thick fleece tights since it’s freezing cold outside.

you felt a sudden cravings for something in the midst of the show. you desire for something sweet. and chewy.

“koo..” you murmur, distracting your man from the show on the big screen. he redirects his focus to you as he caresses your hair with his soft, yet rough palms.

“i’m craving donuts”

“want me to go to the convenience store and grab some for you?” he suggests

“no I don’t want that, I want mochi donuts” you cutely demand

“but baby it’s too late” he said, lifting his wrist to look at his gold Rolex watch. “aren’t they close at this time?”

these days, your social feeds are just full of ads, particularly bakery places nearby your place that serve mouth-watering breads, donuts, ice creams, bubble milk tea, and the list goes on. promptly, the phone that’s sitting next to jungkook was taken by you.

“look, there’s one that’s still open till midnight” you replied, showing him the navigation to the bakery shop that’s on your screen. his tired eyes glanced at your phone, then back at you.

“please koo?” you pleaded, climbing on top of him and giving him thousands of kisses all over his face until he’s got enough is the most effective technique to persuade him. how can jungkook say no when you display a behavior like this to get whatever you want? the forever answer is he just can’t.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

You two arrive at the place twenty minutes before they close. Since it’s late at night, you can see through the big windows that there’s not many customers inside the donut shop.

“oh my, we’re finally here” you joyfully babble to yourself out loud which made your driving boyfriend chuckle. while jungkook slows down the car to eyeball a good parking spot, you reach for your pink purse taking out the hello kitty lip oil to apply them on your chapped lips.

Jungkook carefully parked the car on the side of the road. He looked at our surroundings such as the front, back, and the side of his vehicle, making sure everything seems clear before he takes off his seat belt and gets off of the automobile. As usual, Jungkook walks to the other side, gesturing that he will open the car door for me. This man doesn’t ask a lot regarding how things should be in our relationship but the number one rule he established is that you could never open any door when you’re with him.

He quickly unlocked my door with one hand and offered his other hand to assist my body getting out of the car. As you got out, you felt the strong wind blowing your mini skirts, making them move up. but jungkook immediately takes off his zip up fleece oversized jacket to tie it tight around your waist.he ensures that the skirt won’t go up by walking behind you whilst holding your cold hand towards the bakery.

a scent of sweet caramelized brown sugar that you’ve been craving welcomes you as soon as you step into the threshold of the place. Looking around the store, you notice multiple neon pink led lights of donuts are decorated in the walls. the long honey maple stained table against the windows was paired with white barstool chairs. You also did not fail to miss that their white snowed christmas tree is still up, filled with rosy ornaments and pinkish lights around it.

‘this is definitely my new favorite place’ you noted to yourself as you feel cozy inside.

Your boyfriend wasted no time to lead you to the counter, only for you to see the variety of flavor of their delicious mochi donuts displayed on the front top. you can’t help but to drool on the sight, you’re starting to feel satisfaction by just looking at them.

“hello, what can I get for you today?” the tall male server who’s probably around your age friendly greeted. a little too friendly, in jungkook’s opinion but he chose to try to shrug it off. before answering him, I turned to jungkook “what are you getting koo?” asking to know what he wants.

“don’t know. you can order whatever you want for me” he responds as his doe eyes look up to scan the menu on the screen that’s mounted in their polished ceramic walls. Jungkook is on a diet these days therefore he tries his best to restrain eating sweets but he knows that cheat days won’t hurt if it only happens once or twice a month.

turning to face the server once again, you made up your mind on what to order. “hi, can we get two brown sugar milk teas with less ice and can you make one extra sugar please” you gently requested and the server instantly punched the orders in their ipad.

you take another look at the yummy donuts before continuing. “and i would like to get a dozen of the mochi donuts.” you pointed to the biggest bakery box.

jungkook wasn’t even surprised that you’re getting 12 pieces, potentially all for yourself considering you have a sweet tooth, which could be really extreme sometimes. he stands still next to you, amused by how cute you are, getting all excited by all these sweets you’re about to eat as you tell the the guy the flavors you want.

the server hands you two of their fresh brown sugar bubble milk tea & pink box that contains lots of sugar and of course, you happiness. afterwards, he declars the total for all the things you order. you’re about to tap in your debit card that’s covered with hello kitty skin when jungkook’s black card is already approved on the chip card reader.

“you didn’t have to koo” you murmur. your man always insists on paying for everything,

“i want too”

he does things for you not because he’s going to gain something or that he’s expecting some type of return from you. Rather, he does them solely because he loves you and he loves seeing you getting all the things you want.

for the meantime ,you look for a table that you two can sit at, particularly a spot where there’s a cute background since you would like to take some photos.

immediately, your eyes spot the perfect table right next to the huge windows to sit and take pictures in. you swiftly walk over the spot and your boyfriend follows you like a lost puppy.

“kook can you take pictures of me here?” you ask, while unwrapping the thick jacket around your waist and position yourself on the stool chair.

jungkook unlocks the camera on his phone, positions the cellular in your desired angle, and clicks the white button multiple times. he casually looks at the camera screen and looks up to you. when he notices that by the way your sitting is slightly showing your ass, and instantly goes up to you to fix it. you’re confused at first by his sudden action but you soon realize why.

“oops, thank you kookie” you chortle

when he goes back to his previous standing position, he catches the same annoying server maliciously staring at you, in a way that’s very unpleasant to him, which just pisses him off more. nevertheless, he captures photos of your adorable face while attempting to drink your favorite bubble tea for the camera. then, he passes his phone so you can review the images.

‘he’s such a great photographer’you thought. these picture will be posted on your pink themed finsta.

“can we go now?” jungkook harsly rushed. this place is alright, but that fucking server is just making his blood boils. he needs to get you two out of here before he does something not pretty.

you read his sudden unusual behavior and chose not to argue. you really loved this place, but you can understand that your boyfriend is too tired and just wanted to sleep. you’ll definitely come back though.

“wait koo, I'll use their restroom first.” you excuse yourself, feeling the need to change the menstrual pad that you’re wearing, you fear bleeding through jungkook’s leather seats.

you did your business pronto. unexpectedly when you walked out of the restroom, the friendly worker corners you, with something in his hand.

“miss, would you like to have this?” He offers the cute and huge hello kitty boba plushie that is in his grip. your eyes widening as they gaze upon the lovely thing. “I noticed your phone case and I thought this is perfect for you” he shyly adds as he scratches the back of his head, pointing out the pink Hello Kitty case you have.

“sure! how much is it?” you respond with full of energy. this plush will be added to your collection.

“don’t worry about it,here” he extends the plushie towards you, gesturing that you should take it.

you look for some type of unseriousness in his eyes but you found none. he does seem nice. you accept the cute plushie that’s waiting for you to be held, hugging it really tight.

“you’re really cute. do you mind if I get your number?” the man in front of you speaks. “so i can give you more plushies for free of course” he further explains, trying to convince you to give him your digits

but you remember what jungkook once said, and that is never give any other men your number. Although you can’t grasp why he doesn’t want you to do that, you listen to him because you don’t want to get him all sad and mad at you. angry jungkook is the least thing you want to deal with. he turns really cold and you hate not getting affection from him.

“I'm sorry but I can't give you my number. thanks for this though.” you give him a weak smile. you also hate the feeling of rejecting people but you also don’t want to get in trouble.

the friendly expression that the guy has been erased and replaced with a blank expression, as if ‘no’ isn’t the right answer. he snarls before speaking “Is it because of your punk boyfriend? c'mon pretty girl he doesn’t have to kno-“

“who doesn’t have to know what?” a familiar voice cuts off the man you’re facing before you can understand what the previous man just said.

jungkook approaches you, snatching the plushy in your grasp. “where did you get this from?” he sternly asks. he might have known the answer, it’s so obvious from what it looks like, but he needs to make sure before he beats somebody’s ass.

“koo he gav-“ that was enough for jungkook to vigorously slam the plushy back onto that guy’s chest, making the man flinch and slightly back off. “look or talk to my woman one more time and things will get ugly for you” he threatens, giving the guy the most serious stare, the same stare he has when fighting in the boxing ring.

without saying anything, he grabs your hand sternly and you two walk out the store. you still didn’t get why jungkook didn’t want you to have that plushie, it was perfect to add to your collection.

the entire car ride back to your place was awfully quiet. you offer to drive back home when you notice that he’s speeding and seems so tense, but jungkook refuses, telling you that he’s fully capable of driving back with a somber tone.. his tattooed hands aren’t where they’re supposed to be placed, your thigh. but you argue no further, not wanting to make him more angry than he already is.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

hours later, you’re gathering the sleepwear you’ll wear for tonight before hopping in the shower, which is currently occupied by your boyfriend. usually, you two always shower together whenever you’re sleeping at his place and vice versa, but tonight you received no invitation from him since he’s giving you silent treatment for an unknown reason.

despite the fact, you made up your mind to join him as you enter the steamy bathroom, the warm atmosphere welcomes you while you close the door behind you.

your gaze meets jungkook’s tall muscular figure, his tattooed arm up against the white wall, while head is pointing down as the hot water that’s coming from the showerhead runs down his body.

quietly strip down your clothes, you proceed to open the sliding shower door and step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him.

jungkook faintly flinched as he felt a pair of dainty arms wrapped around his bare torso. he knew exactly who they belonged to, his loved one.

he slightly turns his head, just to see you, hopelessly showing affection towards him in the midst of washing the negative internal thoughts out of his system.

“are you mad at me baby?” you worriedly ask, overthinking that you might have done something that might upset him or maybe he’s too stressed out on his non-stop training schedule since his competitions are coming soon or maybe he can’t handle being with you anymore. lots of maybe but communication is the only way you will know how he feels.

the question of yours sends a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. you completely did nothing wrong. he knows for a fact you can’t say no to anyone who gives you a Hello Kitty plushie. your tiny little head just can’t comprehend that these guys want something in return for giving you things you love to collect. you’re too good for your own.

now he feels like a total idiot, another part of him feels guilty for the sudden shift in his behavior, solely because he's so in love with you that he can’t stand seeing men look at your way.

you did nothing wrong. nothing at all. you’re just so goddamn beautiful that your boyfriend is starting to lose it.

he can’t help but let the possessiveness take over him as soon as he perceives other guys showing their interest in his pretty girl. the woman he desires to keep to himself for the rest of this lifetime, the next one, and for many more

jungkook crowds you up against the cold marble wall just after he turns his buff body to face you. wasting no time, he leaves smooches on your pouty lips and jaw. “didn’t I tell you I'm the only one who can give you hello kitty stuff?” he sensually whispers to your right ear, continuing to give you wet kisses. “hmm?”

“but why?” you pout, resulting in the kisses to come to stop. he looks at you directly in the eyes, “because i’m your boyfriend and that job is solely for me” he simply explains

“but koo it was for free, he was really nice but then he started asking for my number so he could give me more but i didn’t give it to him because you specifically instructed me not to.” you mindlessly babble, explaining your side all in one sentence. simultaneously, you grab the white loofa next to the pink one and apply jungkook’s favorite body wash. it still doesn’t make sense to you. you love collecting hello kitty, but the love you have for the man in front of you is significantly greater.

oh jungkook is really going to lose it. that fucker had the audacity to ask you shit like that right when you’re with him.

“and that’s why I don’t want you talking to them, they want to take advantage of you” he takes a deep breath

“i’m sorry kook” you mutter, attempting to cuddle his naked form.

“i know something was off with that motherfucker” he starts off, “keeps looking at you in a way i don’t appreciate” he finally admits, with his tone hinting a pinch of jealousy. “and that fucking plush- he’s getting on my fucking nerves.”

“all he can do is look koo” you laugh. “Besides, I’m already cuffed by my hot boyfriend. what more can I possibly look for?” your words declaring that your eyes are only fixed to him. there’s no reason to look at other men anyways.

“you’re only mine right?” he just needs to directly hear those words come out of your mouth.

“only yours” you murmur. and that reassured him. for now.

you stand on your tiptoe to kiss his cute nose, from there you smack your lips against his as your smooth palms trace his jawline.

as seconds goes by, the desire to express how much you love him is rapidly growing. you want him. you need him.

you detach your lips against his, just to fixate them on his neck, right on the pretty tiny mole on his skin, your favorite spot. your hand does its own job to explore his sculpted body, finding its way to palm his painful growing erection.

he knows where this is going

your kisses trail from his upper chest to his defined abs; so brawny and delicious. he follows your gesture, finding you on your knees, beneath him, your beautiful face positioned right in front of his hardening cock.

oh this is the one and only circumstance he would kill and die for to be in.

jungkook knows that sly grin expression you wear as you look up with those round doll eyes. purposely, your both arms push against each other to give him a good view of your perky breast squeezed together. with his shaft twitching, can’t help but to utter an uncontrollable moan from seeing you like this.

“can I?” you ask softly, waiting for permission from him as if you’re not in this sinful position at least twice every time you two spend time together. no matter what, you still drool by just staring at his cock as if it’s your favorite lollipop.

he quietly hums and nods his head while nibbling his lip piercings, giving you the green light.

you start off slow, giving his pretty pink tip covered with precum small pecks. smearing the liquid around your lips, pretending it as if it’s one of your lip gloss, making them nice and glossy.

sweet

“i only wanna do this with you” you hungrily voice out in each swift peck while locking your seductive eyes on his.

he brings his fingers towards your jaw, lifting your chin up. “open” he commands, directing you to open your mouth. and so you did, without hesitation. a hot glob of spit falls into your tongue, which turns you on even more. you quickly swallow it and resume with what you’re doing.

he continues to watch you as your swollen lips slowly wrap his thick cock. your mouth is solely made for jungkook as it welcomes him inch by inch. although sucking him becomes a part of your daily routine, you still need to take a sweet time adjusting to his length.

irresistible tears roll down your face as he hits the back of your throat for the first few times, but you’re so determined to make him feel good. you began bobbing your head back and forth as your mouth slowly adjusted to his size.

“hmm, so good baby” he muffles weakly. “j-just like that” almost sounds as if he’s about to cry from the incredible sensation.

you can’t help but to release a quiet whine from hearing him. the steamy bathroom is filled with jungkook's angelic yet sinful groans, along with the sounds that’s being created as you which arouse you even more. he’s got your pussy clenching over nothing.

your bent knees on the cold and wet ground are starting to get tired, but you pay no attention to them. rather, you take him even more, until his tip hits the back of your throat. you continue to do it smoothly, using no hands.

you proceed to shift your attention to untouched balls. your tiny hand softly jerks off his length upward, as a trail of kisses made their way from the underside of his girthy and veiny cock to one of the oval-shaped organs. wet and loud smooches on jungkook’s sensitive skin turn to sloppy sucking. your mouth is so full of him. a mixture of his precum and saliva of yours covers your entire chin, even some of it drops on the ground.

this sequence stirs more moans from jungkook, but this time he gets louder and louder. his slender hands acts at its own and gather your length hair into a ponytail, just so he can manipulate your head, to use you however he pleases

Jungkook pulls your hair back, causing you to lose contact with the sac you were passionately lapping. he leads you mouth back to where it should give its focus to. his throbbing cock. once his dewy dick is shoved in you, he pushes your cock drunk head to take more of him. you obediently follow the flow of the hand guiding your head

“such a good girl” he grunts, throwing his head up in the air, then focusing back on you. “only for me”. your boyfriend is still controlling your head bobbing on his length.

“you’re such a slut for a fucking hello kitty, aren’t you?” jungkook mocks in between deep breaths. “me or that stupid kitty cat? huh?” thrusting his hips into your messy and well-fucked face.

you just moan against him, not even bothering to answer him because you’re too fucked, your tiny little brain is wearing out as you keep bouncing your head up and down. and also it might be because you know for a fact that you could be a slut for hello kitty too sometimes. you’re in no position to protest.

the man above you grips your hair even tighter, demanding you to answer him. “I wanna hear you baby”

“‘mmh you, o-only you koo,” you sob. lots and lots of tears coming out of your eyes. “all I want is you and this cock” you mewl weakly as you desperately lap his precious tip, just like how he loves it.

“that’s it, pretty girl, I'm cummin’” he verbalizes, grasping your head forcibly as slamming his pelvis into your abused mouth. to this point, you feel dizzy and your whole body is worn out. you grip into his beefy thighs as you allow him to utilize you like a slut.

“hmpp f-fuck” he moans loudly, releasing abundant strings of semen into your mouth. he cums so deep inside your throat. not wanting a drop to fall, you gobble up everything as your life depends on them.

after swallowing, you show him your empty mouth, with tongue being out. you can see in his half lidded eyes that he’s proud, giving you a soft smile.

you were about to get up when all of a sudden the dizzy spell hits you real hard, causing you to lose your balance but jungkook catches you before you can even fall.

“hey, you okay? Did I go too hard?” he locks his gaze upon you, hoping that you will lock yours to him too. but you didn’t as you are sobbing and trembling a little bit. jungkook wipes the dries tears on your swollen face with one hand while the other wraps around your waist. he might have gone harder than you can handle.

“baby look at me please? did I hurt you? i'm sor—“

“koo i’m okay” you faintly cut his sentence off. he doesn’t need to be sorry. “just need a few minutes to recover” you explain. jungkook immediately understands that. he gives you minutes of peaceful silence, with that, he takes care of washing your body. gently rubbing the pink loofah in your smooth skin as he hums the song that’s been stuck in your brain for quite a while.

after showering, he helps you slip on your baby pink dainty nightgown. this dress is special. jungkook got it for you when he flew abroad for one of his boxing competitions. one day, he and his team were strolling around the fancy mall when he passed by a cute local lingerie store that you will definitely check out, only if you were with him. of course, he chose to follow what his heart tells him to do, to go inside and find a thing or two to give you as soon as he comes home. to you.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

both yours and jungkook’s bodies are situated on your twin sized bed. in spite of the fact that there’s not much for the two of you and one of you might fall on the ground if another moves a little, it’s not a hurdle as you two embrace each other’s warmth as if there’s no tomorrow. two bodies comfortably embracing one another. tonight, you’re designated to be the tiny spoon

“ggukie..” you murmur, hot breath fanning against his bare chest. “hmm??” jungkook looks down to see what his princess needs.

“want your cock”you weakly pleaded, causing the man to slightly chuckle. you must be out of your mind.

“baby, your body is tired” said by him, shaking his head to show his disapproval. what a silly idea that goes around your mind when your eyes can barely open. you’re really out here doing everything but to sleep. he continues to caress your soft hair.

on a side note, you and jungkook never had penetrative sex before. yes, he eats you out here and there and vice versa. but he never dares to insert himself inside you.

indeed you’re a virgin but it’s not that you never wanted to. matter of fact you’ve made up your mind and are willing to give your virginity to him. jungkook is well aware of that. however, fear of hurting you always troubles him. he’s afraid that you will go through pain, scared that he’ll break you: his fragile pretty girl

“need your cock inside me” you continue to whine. “didn’t I show you a video of me from last week taking the toy you gifted me? you said I did so well” reminding him that one video clip of you masturbating to the pink rose you got from him. how could he forget about that when he uses it to get off every single night? with full on volume too, all ears concentrate on your high pitched moans, giving him more than the satisfaction he craves. the thoughts of that makes the lust that nearly vanishes inside him linger, you just never fail to get him arouse even before going to sleep.

however, jungkook is still in his right mind. “that’s different,” he argues. it’s valid to doubt that he’ll fit.

“ok then just put it in me then we can sleep?” you beg, attempting to compromise. “just wanna feel you close while I sleep. can you imagine how much I missed you?” you’ve come to an extent to use the guilt trip tool to convince him.

he understands the emotion you’re trying to make him feel as he looks into your bambi doe eyes. looking so innocent yet begging for his cock. evoking his guilt to get what you want. jungkook recognizes you in and out, you won’t take no for an answer. also it’s not like he’s not dying to do it, as if he doesn’t fantasize about it when you sleep over at his penthouse. the amount of self control he has..

you have him on a chokehold. jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he gently lifts up the arm which your head is laying on and slightly gets up to open the pink mini cabinet on top of your nightstand, taking out a sky blue container.

“here, apply it”, throwing the lube bottle on your lap.

you’re stunned, heart excitedly does jumping jacks inside your chest. next time it will be you doing jumping jacks on his di-

“cmon cutie I don’t have all night” he blurts, interrupting your thoughts. you never get up so fast in your nineteen years of living. he goes straight back to his original position, laid on his back. he may act chill,but he’s internally pleased and aroused.

as you go down on him (again), your two hands get a grip of the band of his black boxer and pull it down, his semi-hard cock immediately springs out. you can’t help but to give it a tiny peck before giving it a few strokes as you point it towards your lips

you open the bottle up with a pop, squirting out enough lube on your fingers before gently spreading it on his tip. he hisses as he feels the cold liquid substance being applied to him. you trace the sides of his length, ensuring the reduction of friction.

he grabs your arm, guiding your body to lay down sideways next to him. a tattooed veiny arm from behind snakes around your torso, clasping your upper body.

“ready?” he whispers, as he nibbles your ear. jungkook earns longingly nods from you, and for a split moment he spreads some liquid using his lubricated tip around your private area before slowly inserting it in. you discern the penetrating sensation in your core, which makes you purr.

he continues to penetrate inside you furthermore, causing you to close your eyes and tighten your clasp on his arms as you bear with the ache. he fully aware of how you’re feeling as he’s also having a hard time moving in.

“bare with me baby” tensely reassuring you. “so t-tight, fuck.” his other arm makes its journey below your nightgown, traveling its way to your perky breast, delicately squeezing one of them. jungkook does the same and gives the attention to the other one. simultanously, he plants a few smooches on the skin behind your ear, attemping to distract you from the pain. you quietly release moans and groans as he continues. he’s inches in when he feels your wall clenching around him.

your tight pussy becomes jungkook’s personal paradise. it’s the way your walls are clenching around him is better than he imagined; unmatched from all the fantasy he creates in his mind about you.

“koo.. “ your fingers tracing the veins on the back of his palm.

“what? my baby can’t handle it? tell me and I’ll stop” he softly asks. a tear just drops from you leg but you’re too tired to even react.

“n-no just stay inside, i’m sleepy” and with that, you instantly drift to sleep.

he hums, a hand that was busy playing on your chest shifts to caress your hair. jungkook lays one last kiss at your temple.

“goodnight to you too my pretty girl, love you so much”

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princessbrunette · 1 year ago

Text

kinktober : oct 17th

captain price x handjob

one thing about price, is that his pants are always gonna fit snug around the crotch.

you’ve giggled about it before, laying half over his thigh in bed after he’d come home late snuggling into you — half asleep asking why he always wears such ‘tempting pants’ only for him to chuckle nonchalantly, saying something along the lines of “gotta give my best girl a show, don’t I?” before shushing you to back to sleep.

it became your favourite sight once he’d arrive home to you, his sweet doting wife, who can only try her very best to keep her eyes on his in conversation when his cock was practically looking at you first, heavy and visible in his pants, tight belt at his hips only accentuating the shape. you wondered if he was always half hard or something, or if he really was just that long and thick.

sometimes you couldn’t control yourself, you’d just wanna touch on him.

there’s no complaints from john as you lean up to kiss him slow and needy in the hallway when he’d arrive home in all his gear, your hand sliding down his stomach and caressing his bulge, a moan torn from your throat at just the shape under your hand. he smirks to himself, thinking you want something from him. “two steps through the door and you’re asking to get dicked down. y’think m’not tired, love?” he smirks against your mouth, fully willing to give you whatever you want regardless.

you whine a little, and as much as you’d love that— you’re just in the mood to take your time and play with him. so, you drag him to the couch and shove a beer into his hand, the full breadwinner treatment as you unzip his pants. “just wanna play with it. want you to relax, john.” you tell him sweetly through your eyelashes, holding that eye contact as you drool into your palm. he exhales, jaw slack as he shakes his head.

“i must be the luckiest man on earth.” he chuckles, low in his chest and you hum with a sweet little hazed out smile, lips still a little wet from drooling on your hand as you begin to tug at his cock.

“y’so big.” you practically mewl as you slowly stroke him up and down, twisting your hand for his pleasure.

“yeah?” he responds, lips against the tip of his beer bottle as he sips, voice slightly muffled into it and brows furrowed as he watches the movement of your hand. “fuck.” he whispers post swallow.

“mhm…” your voice is breathy and moan-y, and he can’t help but sit forward, reaching to pull you closer.

“you want me to fuck you like this, sweetheart?” he gruffs, placing his beer aside. you pant, your free hand pressing at his chest as you shake your head with doe eyes.

“just wanna see you cum like this, please? can have me afterwards…” you beg, not breaking the eye contact once again as you lean forward and drool, letting it hit the tip, your fingertips smoothing over it and massaging it into his cock.

“fuckin’ ell.” he scratches his beard, tipping his head back against the couch and spreading his thighs, the sight making you wish you took up his offer, but also glad you were being patient. “little minx, you are.” he smirks, his eyes still shut.

soon, his stomach is tensing, and he’s reaching out to grab the nearest thing to him, which happened to be a couch cushion, digging his fingers in as he pants. “shit, baby. right fuckin’ there.” he groans before spitting out pearly liquid into your palm, letting it drip down your wrist. you let out whimpers just at the feeling and how good he looked coming undone.

he finally comes down, barely aware of the feeling of the couch shifting beside him. when he finally comes to, reaching out for you and opening his eyes — he’s stopped in his tracks to see you with your panties off, eagerly using his cum as lube as you stroke your fingers hungrily through your own folds, whimpering. he eyes you with a tongue pressed into his cheek before shaking his head, regaining his strength as he pushes himself up to pin you on your back. “little fuckin’ tease, aren’t you?”

#captain price smut #john price smut #captain john price smut #call of duty smut #captain price drabble #kinktober 2023

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actuallysaiyan · 9 months ago

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Send Me An Angel(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Higuruma Hiromi)

warnings: smut, exhibitionist, oral sex(both fem and male receiving), drinking, smoking, drugs, candaulism, panty/pussy sniffing, creampie finish/unprotected sex, swearing, nipple play, pervertedness, pet names, just lots of lewd themes, threesomes word count: 4.6k!!! pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Higuruma Hiromi summary: you meet Hiromi at the bar, and you two bond over your love of 80s music. Despite Kento being a protective husband, he always wants to see you happy...even if it means to fuck you in front of the loser lawyer a/n: HERE IT IS!!! Omg I have been dreaming and planning and thinking about this fic FOREVER!!!!! I want to give a very special shoutout to both @beneathstarryskies and @seireiteihellbutterflyfor helping me out with this beauty! taglist: @sparklynightm4re, @buttercupbitches(sorry tried to tag you but Tumblr won't let me!)

You sit at the bar, drink in hand. Your head starts bobbing to the music, and you instantly recognize the song. A presence sits near you, someone of average build and average height. You look over at them, your smile spreading on your face. He smiles shyly at you and then orders a drink from the bartender. After he receives his drink and pays, he then scoots a little closer to you.

"I love this song," he comments, looking at you curiously. You smile, "Me too! Nobody likes the classics anymore!"

There's a sudden chemistry between you and the man with the long nose. His tired eyes remind you of someone very dear to you. Between sips of your cocktails, you and the man you've come to know as Hiromi become acquainted. You two are deep in your conversation about post-punk music and synthpop when you feel a familiar presence near you.

His strong arms wrap around you, his head resting on your shoulder before he leans in to kiss your cheek brazenly in front of Hiromi. The lawyer's eyes widen as he gets a good look at the salaryman who's making his presence quite known.

"And who's this, darling?" His voice is deep and gravelly, almost filled with a need. You giggle, "This is my new friend. Hiromi Higuruma. He's a lawyer."

Kento's eyes narrow at the man sitting very close to you. He's not sure he likes the way Hiromi is looking at you, and he's certainly sure he doesn't like the way you and he keep giggling and talking like you've been friends for years.

"Higuruma-san, was it?" Kento asks, extending his hand out to Hiromi. "Nanami Kento." Hiromi shakes his hand, "A pleasure to meet you. This must be your pretty girlfriend." "Wife." Kento corrects watchfully. "Wife, hm? Lucky guy, you are."

Hiromi is beginning to sense he's no longer wanted, but you extend your hand to grab onto his wrist. Kento watches you carefully, but he thinks he understands what's going on now. When Hiromi faces you, you're pouting.

"Wait, you're not going to leave, right? I thought we were having a nice conversation, Hiromi." He smiles, looking down at his drink, "Well, I guess I can stay. That alright with you, Nanami-san?" Kento's eyes dart towards the tired lawyer, "As long as you keep your hands to yourself."

This causes you to playfully slap Kento's chest. You chastise him for chasing away so many people this way, but Kento can't help it if he wants to keep you locked away from the world. If it were up to him, he'd keep you at home at all times of the day and the night. It's always you who insists on going out and socializing with others.

You and Hiromi begin discussing the song that's playing, which puts Kento's mind at ease. Despite the spectacle he had seen earlier of you and Hiromi chatting and flirting like a pair of high school reunion lovebirds, Kento knows that you're just being kind. Sure, you flirt from time to time, but Kento knows that when he goes home, you're the one coming with him and only him. He's the one who's going to have your face down in the pillows, begging for a break from the violent pounding he'll give you.

"So you like 80s music then, Higuruma-san?" Kento asks, taking his pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket. He places one between your lips and then one between his before he procures a lighter to light them both.

Hiromi watches enviously as Kento pulls you closer, the tips of your cigarettes almost touching. The scene was sensual in its own right; images of fiery kisses are evoked from the sight of Kento lighting both of your cigarettes at once.

Hiromi clears his throat, grabbing his drink to wet his mouth. Then he turns to see you awaiting his reply so eagerly.

"Yes, I love 80s music." He finally concludes. Kento smirks at him, "Funny, so does my wife. No wonder she took a liking to you."

Hiromi smiles nervously. He knows the kind of game Kento is playing at, but it's you he can't really read. Despite your drop-dead gorgeous husband right by your side, you continue to flirt and be eager to talk to Hiromi. If you were trying to get him killed, then he wouldn't be surprised at all.

You and Kento smoke your cigarettes, enjoying a conversation that's just between the two of you. Hiromi can't help but listen in; something about what you'll be having for dinner tomorrow night, and something about having to pick up Kento's dry cleaning tomorrow morning.

Hiromi blanks out for a few moments. His mind is filled with a sweet wife of his own. The kind of girl that he would be proud to bring home to his parents. In his mind, he sees such a sweet face and such a loving smile. The voice that comes from those lips is like warm, dripping honey. Hiromi is enjoying his little fantasy so much, it takes something else to pull him out of the thought.

"Hiromi," you coo softly. "You okay?"

Hiromi smiles sheepishly, looking down at his hand holding his drink. He downs the rest of it within seconds, hoping it'll soothe his nerves. Kento continues to watch him from his position behind you. He looks like he'd snap Hiromi's neck with ease if given the chance.

"Y-yeah, I'm alright. Just thinking."

You giggle softly. Kento grumbles in your ear, a soft warning to you. But he knows what your plan is, and he's not very fond of where this is going. Despite this, he'll more than likely entertain your idea.

"Are you imagining my wife in your little fantasies?" Kento asks, his eyes dark. Hiromi blushes, "Come on…don't say that. She's a fine lady, but she's yours." Kento smirks, "Oh? Is she not good enough for you?"

You slap Kento's chest playfully again, telling him to quit it. This is when Kento cups your cheek, planting a passionate kiss on those pretty, plump lips of yours. Hiromi would be lying if he said that just watching you two kiss didn't turn him on.

"That's enough! Don't embarrass me in front of my new friend," you whine and pout.

Kento chuckles darkly, moving some hair from your neck to place a kiss there too. Hiromi swallows hard, wishing he had another drink to keep him occupied. He's not even really sure where to look, but he knows he wants to keep looking at you. You, this ethereal being, that's just popped into his life. Something bright and beautiful to take the edge off the tiring monotony of his life.

"I think it's time we head home," Kento whispers in your ear. You nod, "Yes, I suppose it's time."

Kento heads over to the bartender to pay off your tab. You know he'll probably pay off Hiromi's tab as a way to show that he's the breadwinner in your relationship. While he's busy doing that, you find a pen and a pad of paper in your purse. You jot down your number, handing it to Hiromi. He looks at you like you've just signed his death wish. Your fingers brush against each other as you pass him the little piece of paper.

"Text me sometime, yeah? We can continue our conversation."

And with that, you're leaving with Kento. Hiromi gets one last glance at you as Kento slips his jacket onto your shoulders. And within a blink of his eyes, you two have disappeared out the door.

The night air feels so good on your skin. It's almost sobering you up. You lean against Kento, and he keeps a tight hold on your waist. You two walk in sync, your home only a few blocks away from your favorite bar. Kento lights up another cigarette; this one's for you to share.

"So, what do you think?" You ask him, looking up at him. Kento scoffs, "What? Him? You can't be serious, darling."

This causes you to pout and you know pouting is Kento's kryptonite. He's groaning as he watches you smoke the cigarette solemnly. You're just too precious to say no to.

"He's perfect! Just the type of guy I was looking for." You confess. "Him? He's just some pussywhipped loser. You can do better than that. He wouldn't even have the guts to ask you to fuck him." You giggle before passing the cigarette back to your husband. "That's the thing…" Kento cocks an eyebrow, "What is it this time?" "I don't want him to fuck me. I want him to watch us fuck."

Kento isn't that surprised, but his cock twitches to life. It's the thought of putting that damn loser in his place while he fucks you properly. That Higuruma-san probably hasn't fucked many women in his life. He's probably the type to pop within seconds of being in a hot, tight pussy.

"If you're sure about this," Kento starts. "I think it could be a little cruel to have such passionate sex in front of a man who looks like he hasn't gotten laid in years."

Your eyes widen. Did Hiromi really seem that pathetic in Kento's eyes? Something about this was turning you on in a way you couldn't quite describe. It was like you were the perfect trophy wife to be shown off. The kind of woman that most men have intense sexual fantasies about.

"Well, I gave him my number. Maybe he'll text me,"

But neither of you is truly convinced that Hiromi will come through with texting you. He's probably going to head home himself and fall asleep in his clothes like he does most nights. You begin to hope and pray that Hiromi would have the balls to actually contact you.

It's only when you and Kento are in front of the warm fireplace, snuggled on the white fur rug that your phone vibrates. You and Kento share excited glances. The more he thought about it, the more he found himself excited about the prospect of fucking his gorgeous wife in front of such a loser.

"It's him!" You giggle like an excited schoolgirl. "Answer him. Get him here now."

Hiromi's text is a pretty drunken one. He babbles about needing a place to crash, so you quickly give him the coordinates to Kento's penthouse suite. Then you and your husband wait with excitement flowing through your veins.

It's only about fifteen minutes later that you hear the buzzer. Kento goes to answer and grants entrance to your private home to the lawyer. Your heart is pounding your chest as the reality of the situation is finally dawning on you. This was actually going to happen. Your panties were a little wet already from your arousal.

There's a gentle knock on the door and you fling it open. Hiromi looks a bit disheveled and he smells like booze. You grab his wrist gently and you pull him into the penthouse. He looks around, his eyes widening at the luxury of your home.

"You found our place okay? You're doing alright?" you ask, wrapping your arm around his shoulder to lead him into the living room. Hiromi moans, "Yeah, I'm alright. Could use some water."

You help guide him to the couch, and you sit yourself right next to him. Your knees are touching. Kento comes in from the kitchen, a bottle of mineral water handed to the long-nosed man.

"Ahh, thank you." Hiromi slurs, opening the bottle and taking very greedy gulps of it. "Slow down, sweetie."

Your term of endearment nearly makes him spit out the water. He focuses on swallowing, then he turns to you. He's carefully assessing the situation. Shivers run down his spine when you begin to rub his thigh.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Hiromi questions, his cock twitching in his pants. "Nothing, just having a little fun. You like to have fun right?" You ask, a mischievous look in your eyes.

Kento then sits on the other side of Hiromi. Suddenly the lawyer feels very boxed in. If he wasn't completely sauced off his ass, he'd probably make a beeline for the door. But your soft touches and sweet perfume seem to soothe him more than he'd like to admit.

"I saw how you were looking at my wife," Kento begins. Hiromi throws his hands up in the air in defense, "Hey, come on. She's smoking hot. Can you blame me?" You caress his cheek, "Shhh…it's okay, Hiromi honey."

He shudders at your sweet touches. His cock grows harder the more you're teasing him. Kento keeps a watchful eye on both of you, but he's letting you have your fun.

"Let's lay down some ground rules," Kento finally pipes up. Hiromi looks over at your husband, "R-rules?" You nod, "Yeah if you want to have a little fun with us, Hiromi honey, you need to accept our rules."

And without warning, you reach over to squeeze his hard cock through his pants. His eyes shut and he lets out a pathetic moan. He has to focus on not cumming in his pants.

"Rule number one, we're calling the shots here. You have to listen to what we say and do what we tell you to do," Kento's voice sounds a million miles away as you continue to palm at Hiromi's cock. Hiromi nods his head, "G-got it." "Rule number two, we've got a safeword! It's bread, and if at any point any of us want to opt out, we can say this word. This includes you, Hiromi honey."

Hiromi moans, nodding his head once more. Kento taps his cheek, and the lawyer's eyes snap open. Kento asks for confirmation that he heard you, and Hiromi confirms.

"Rule number three consists of one thing. We can touch you as much as we want, but you are to always ask permission to touch either of us." Hiromi whines, "Fine, fine. That's fine with me."

You begin to unzip his pants and unbuckle his belt to give him a little more relief. His hips buck up involuntarily to the stimulation you're providing. Hiromi's head leans back against the cool leather of the sofa. You gently graze your nails against his cheek before you pull him in for a kiss.

"Rule number four," you whisper on his lips. "Is that we all have fun."

Kento watches as you kiss the pathetic man who sits right next to him. He knows that he'll be fucking your brains out sooner rather than later, but he's growing impatient watching you play with your latest prey. It takes no time before you pull down the straps of your dress and you're straddling Hiromi's lap.

Kento helps you pull down your dress, exposing your breasts to both men. The black-haired man groans as your nipples are so close to his face, and he's wanting to suck on them so bad.

"Don't forget rule three," Kento warns him. "C-can I touch you? C-can I suck on your nipples?"

You nod your head, leaning in closer to let Hiromi have a taste of your soft skin. A sweet moan erupts from your parted lips as his lips wrap around one of your pert nipples. Kento surveils you both, his eyes dark with lust. It's been quite some time since you've picked out a third party for your nightly games.

"Doesn't she taste so sweet?" Kento asks, leaning in to begin kissing your neck. "Fuck yeah," Hiromi moans as he continues suckling on your tits. "Like…strawberries." Kento chuckles, "Just wait til you taste her pussy…well, that is if she lets you."

Hiromi is in a daze. This is all too much. He thinks to himself that even if he can't fuck either of you or even get to touch you more than this, he'll consider this night a success. He's enjoying himself as he sucks and nips at your nipples. Your fingers are carding through his hair.

"How does it feel, darling?" Kento inquires, pressing a kiss to your temple. "So good, baby. He's got such a soft tongue."

After a few minutes, you get off Hiromi's lap. Then you extend your hand out to him, which he gratefully takes after asking you if it's okay. You begin leading him into the master bedroom. Kento's following close behind. Once inside the bedroom, you show Hiromi the comfortable sofa that's in the corner of the room. He sits down on it, noticing the side table is filled with all kinds of paraphernalia. Things ranging from glass pipes used to smoke marijuana, lots of different packs of cigarettes, and condoms of every variety. He even spots some smaller baggies with various pills inside.

"Help yourself to anything you like," you offer to him as you walk over to the expensive-looking stereo system. Some upbeat synthpop music begins to play softly.

Hiromi thanks you, but his eyes dart towards the door. Kento is beginning to undress, and his mouth is growing dry as he admires the man. He's so well-built. His muscles flex as he continues removing more of his clothing. Hiromi has never seen such a specimen of man before. Kento realizes he's being admired.

"So you're into men too, huh?" Hiromi blushes, "Well…uh…yeah, I guess."

You come over to both of them, and you sit on Hiromi's lap. You beckon Kento to come closer, and you begin to unbutton his pants and unbuckle his belt. You can feel Hiromi's erection poking you in the ass. Moving your hips to the rhythm of the song, you feel him twitching and throbbing with every move you make.

"She's a little temptress, hm?" Kento questions. "Mmm y-yeah, she sure is."

You continue to grind down against him, finally helping Kento out of his pants. He's only in his boxer briefs now, his cock straining against the material. Then you look up at him, begging him to take the lead on the next part of this.

He gathers you up in his arms, kissing you longingly and sloppily. Your tongues wrestle together, swapping spit together in such a lewd manner that Hiromi just cannot tear his eyes away from you both. He's going to enjoy watching you two make love.

Kento places you on the bed, his calloused hands rubbing and caressing all your erogenous zones. You moan softly as his fingers pinch and pull on your sensitive nipples. Then his head dips down to capture one of them into his mouth as his hands continue to undress you. Once your dress is pulled off, he turns to face the lawyer sitting in the corner.

"Wanna come see if she smells as good as she tastes?" Kento goads him on.

Within seconds, Hiromi is up and off the sofa and he's on his hands and knees at the foot of the large bed. Kento spreads your legs, showing the wet patch on your pretty little panties. Hiromi is practically salivating as he begins to get closer.

You shudder as Kento pulls your panties off so slowly, exposing you to the lawyer who is ready to worship you both body and soul. Then he turns to face Hiromi and he gives the man your soiled panties.

"Have those, she's got lots more."

The black-haired man holds the soiled material to his nose and takes a greedy inhale. He shudders at the sweet and musky scent of your arousal. His tongue darts out pathetically to lick up a bit of the nectar.

"Look at him," Kento draws your attention towards Hiromi. "Pussywhipped loser."

Something about watching the way Hiromi is licking your panties really drives you wild. With your pussy exposed, Kento begins teasing your clit with slow circles. You buck up to meet his hand, which earns you a scoff from your beautiful blond lover. When your eyes meet, you can see the warning in them to be a bit more patient.

Without warning, Hiromi brings himself closer to your pussy and his face is inches away from it. His pupils have all but turned into hearts when he looks at your cute little cunt. He's just about to lean in when Kento pushes him off the bed.

"Did you forget rule three already?! You can't just do whatever you want." Kento growls.

Hiromi apologizes profusely, his heart racing. The thought of Kento hurting him to lay claim to you is turning him on. Maybe he is just a pathetic, desperate sex fiend. A pervert who hasn't gotten laid in so long. He sits up on his knees, watching you both.

"You wanna know what it's like to not have to ask for permission? Watch closely,"

With those words, Kento sinks himself into your dribbling hole. You cry out, clinging to your husband. He begins drilling himself into you, making you moan just for him. Hiromi's eyes widen, watching the scene unfold in front of him.

"You like that, huh? Fucking loser, you love watching my wife take my cock, don't you?"

Kento's words are hitting him hard. Hiromi has to begin palming himself through his slacks, the precum making a stain in his boxers. You look at the lawyer, moaning loudly as Kento keeps hitting your sweet spot dead on. Hiromi brings your panties to his nose as he begins to unbuckle his belt and take his leaking cock out of his boxers.

"Look at him," Kento goads, "look how much he's so desperate."

Your eyes are practically rolled back in your skull, and anyone can see you're much too preoccupied with the pleasure to even think about looking at the desperate man who is now jerking off at the edge of your bed. Kento chuckles darkly.

"See that? That's what a woman in the throes of pleasure looks like. Something I'm sure you've barely ever seen in your life."

Hiromi grunts as he picks up the pace of stroking his cock. His fist is a blur as he jerks himself off; your panties are still pressed to his nose. Your sweet moans and cries of love make his cock dribble out even more precum.

"K-Ken…I'm gonna cum!"

Kento growls sensually before picking up his own pace. He's slamming into you, making sure to angle his hips so that the tip of his cock continues to ram against that sweet spot deep inside of you that makes you see stars. Waves of electricity course through your body, making the muscles in your groin begin to tense as your orgasm builds more and more. The flame in your belly is burning hot, and the coil snaps. Your nails dig into the muscles of his back, and your plump lips part to cry out his name.

"Fuck, she's milking my cock so good!" Kento grunts, his own orgasm imminent.

Hiromi feels his balls drawing up fast, and he can't keep his eyes off the lewd scene in front of him. He moans as he fucks his fist a little faster, squeezing as if it was your pussy milking him as well. Then with a loud grunt, he's cumming so hard. Spurts of his cum begin to shoot out and cover his fist and the edge of the bed.

"Hah, I knew you'd blow your load first!" Kento brags. "I could keep going, but I suppose I shouldn't overstimulate my wife too much. I think she's had too much excitement for one night,"

Hiromi is slack-jawed as he watches Kento plow himself into you. His cock throbs with every thrust, and Hiromi has the front-row seat to watch as the man fucking your brains out is about to cum. The long-nosed man is very mesmerized by the blond's movements.

"Shit, such a fucking good pussy! Fuck I'm gonna cum!" Kento cries out. "Watch Hiromi-san, this is how you breed a pretty little wife!"

With a loud roar, Kento's hips stutter as the pleasure hits him hard. Shot after shot of his potent and sticky cum begins to fill your pussy. You whine from the overstimulation, but he's quick to hush you with sweet words of praise and love. Then slowly, he settles onto your tits and begins sucking on them.

"Hiromi honey," you call out to the lawyer. He looks up at you, a blush on his cheeks. "Yeah?" You smirk, "Come here, honey."

Hiromi crawls onto the bed. Kento pulls out, and both men watch as the cum begins to leak out of your abused hole. The lawyer is salivating at the sight of your puffy cunt. Kento beckons him closer, spreading your thighs a little bit.

"Have a taste," Kento instructs. "You've been a pretty good boy. I think you deserve it. But…" Hiromi looks up at him, "But what?" "You've got to clean us both up. Not just her, you better be sucking me cleaning too."

Hiromi feels his cock springing back to life at the chance to taste you both. First, he leans in to take a big whiff of your pussy. It's taken on a more musky scent with Kento's seed mixing in, but it's definitely still making him dizzy. He tentatively licks your folds before moaning. He's in heaven as he begins to lap at you like you are his last meal.

"Heh, you still think she tastes like strawberries?" Kento asks him.

Hiromi looks up at him, his eyes glazed over with lust. He moans his response, not caring that Kento's seed is mixing with your arousal. To the lawyer, you both taste so heavenly. A flavor he doesn't want to soon forget.

Kento reaches over, gripping Hiromi's black hair. He pulls him away from your oversensitive cunt, and he pushes him towards his half-hard leaking cock. Hiromi is quick to open his mouth, savoring the taste of your pussy on Kento's cock. The black-haired man moans as he begins to take even more of your husband's dick in his mouth.

"Fuck, darling…do you see just how much of a pervert he is?"

With that, Kento pushes him off and lets you all catch your breath. You watch through half-lidded eyes as your husband dons his favorite robe and heads into the kitchen. Hiromi stays put on the ground, unsure of what to do. You pat the spot next to you, and he sits near you.

"Hiromi honey, did you enjoy yourself?" you turn around and grab the sheet to cover your body.

He finds it adorable that you're choosing to be more modest right now. The vulnerability in that one little move really makes his chest feel warm. Suddenly he feels like he's actually looking into your private life.

Kento returns with a few bottles of mineral water for all of you. He also has a warm washcloth for you and Hiromi. Hiromi blushes as he turns away from both of you and cleans off his cock and his hands. Kento sits on the bed and wipes up the cum from your puffy, red pussy.

Once everyone is decent and cleaned up, you all take a moment to drink the water. Kento lights up a cigarette and as a sign of good faith, he hands one to the lawyer who gratefully accepts it. You three sit on the bed with the window cracked open, smoking your cigarettes.

"Still need a place to crash?" Kento asks Hiromi. "Yeah, I'd love that."

You lean back against the pillows, beckoning the lawyer over. He strips down to his boxers and he crawls under the covers. There's a warmth that comes from you as you wrap your arms around him and allow him to snuggle against your breasts. What surprises Hiromi is when Kento settles behind the man and wraps a protective arm around him.

"Sleep tight," you coo softly. "Love you, Ken." "Love you too, sweetie. Sleep well."

And the three of you fall into a deep sleep…

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smilingbluetiger · 6 months ago

Text

"No one speaks so beautifully of being afraid of love as you do."

(Severus x You)

I don't know how to tag

Tags: #severus needs a hug #you need a hug #"i love you" #no happy ending

This is the first time to publish such a long text in English. I ask for your understanding. The title is taken from a Polish song. It seems to me that these words are very suitable for Severus. Enjoy your reading.

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

Severus lay together with his companion on the couch. Severus used the woman as a pillow and let her play with his hair in return. It was really nice with music playing in the background and the fireplace burning.

The woman's eyes looked at the man's calm face. His eyes were closed, the wrinkles had softened and he now looked much more his age. The woman, who had not spent the first evening with him, felt that she could have stayed there forever. At this exact moment.

"Severus..."

"Hym?" She got the sleepy reply of a man tired after a whole week of work.

"I think... I think I love you."

"Stop."

In an instant, black eyes looked at her alertly, and wrinkles appeared on his face again. The woman's lips parted because she wanted to say something, but she didn't manage.

"Don't say anything. And if you must, don't say those words." He said firmly and resolutely. He did not take his eyes off her, and the woman felt apprehension to speak up.

"But... Why?" The woman's hand wanted to stroke his hair again. He caught it and squeezed it more than necessary. The gaze of black eyes focused on the hand he held, as if she was the culprit behind his change in mood.

"Because these words always destroy everything." His voice indicated that he was reaching back with his memory somewhere very far. "If you want to continue our arrangement, you can never say that."

Black eyes focused again on the woman lying beneath him. Severus could see the emotions flowing across the face of the woman, who had been a vital part of his private life for some time.

He watched as she yanked shis hand away and massaged wrist. He gripped it too tightly... He moved away and sat down on the couch giving the other person space. The woman did not move.

Dark eyes focused their gaze on the fire. The silence lasted for several drawn-out seconds.

"Even if I feel it? Is it just about the words?"

"... Don't cross that line. It's for the best. It's fine the way it is." He replied still focused on the fire. His hands were clasped tightly together to prevent his fingers from breaking off. He must not show weakness.

Another long seconds of silence.

"Yes... Straight up a dream arrangement." He felt the person next to him rise to sit down and get up from the couch, but he continued to stare at the fire. From hearing, he recognized that she had gone around the couch and was walking around the room. He allowed himself to close his eyes. He prepared to hear the sound of teleportation from the fireplace. So far, he only heard her stop somewhere behind his back. He clenched his eyelids and fists tighter to resist the urge to turn toward her. He also resisted the prompting to use legilimency. The fear of seeing himself through her eyes now was too great, and if she realized.... She would then realize how foolish it would be to even consider a relationship with someone like him.

The music was still playing, but no sound came from the person still standing behind him. The potions master's nails, despite being cut short, dug into his skin in anticipation. Let it happen already. Let him taunt him and leave.

But instead he felt hands on his shoulders. He shuddered at the sensation, but the hands did not retreat and began to massage his tense body. A sigh of relief was unconditional. She knew what to do. The man was aware that he had let her in far enough that she knew his weaknesses. A fool... But he couldn't resist it when her movements and presence gave him a relief he hadn't experienced even during his encounters with Lily.

He didn't even know when he was leaned with his back on the couch, his head resting on the headrest. He felt the top of his head touch her stomach. His eyes were still closed. He let her do whatever she wanted with him.

Pathetic. He was so pathetic in his desire to touch her. She had power over him. She didn't interrupt the massage, but only changed places, mussing his neck, his jaw, until she reached his cheeks. He felt her brushing his hair away from his forehead. He felt her warm hands place themselves on his cheeks and gently stroke his dry skin.

He tightened his eyelids again.

He felt that she was looking at him. He is the center of her attention. Attention he doesn't deserve, but needs. But he doesn't intend to admit it.

He wants to break out of this embrace that gives a feeling of security, peace, attention, a sense of being important and valuable.... Because it can't be true.

The man is stopped by the weight of the pressed forehead against his own. He opens his eyes in surprise and sees the woman's hair. She now has to kneel behind the couch to hold him with her hands and forehead. This can't be comfortable for her.... That's what Severus thinks, but then he feels wetness in his hair.

She is crying.

This thought is enough for him to slip out of the woman's grasp in an instant kneeling on the couch facing her.

The woman withdrew her hands from the back of the couch the moment he did. She lowered her head so that the man could not see her face from his position. But he could see her raise her hands to her face to wipe away her tears.

Severus felt his hands tighten on the back of the couch.

"Why don't you just leave?" He couldn't stand it. He didn't know where he felt anger from now, but he knew it shouldn't be like this. She shouldn't cry, she should go out and be with someone as good as her. SO WHY DOESN'T SHE DO THAT!

The woman was still kneeling. After a long moment, which was surely to make sure her voice did not fail her, she raised her head to look at the man above her.

"Is that what you want?" She asked him, and her voice was unnaturally colorless. Only the wet marks on her cheeks and the redness, betrayed the earlier tears.

Severus' clenched lips delayed the answer. "Yes. That's what I want." He replied withstanding her stare. This battle of glances lasted for a while before the woman began to rise from her knees and stood in front of the man.

Her hands touched his cheeks again. Only by a miracle did he not close his eyes and snuggle into her touch. No, it wasn't a miracle. It was damned pride that prevented him from giving himself that final goodbye. He knew that this is what was happening now.

The language of touch had always been more important in their relationship than words.

"You know Severus... No one speaks so beautifully of being afraid of love as you do." She smiled at him, and the touch became even more tender. Snape's dark eyes looked at her and saw that smile break her soul. That smile must be enough for him. He knew that her image would be etched in his memory.

He did not answer her. He removed her hands from his face and looked away. He rose from the couch and, as if nothing had happened, approached the bar completely ignoring the presence of another person in the apartment.

Somewhere between opening the bottle and pouring the alcohol into the glass, he heard the crackle of teleportation from the fireplace.

He lifted the glass to his lips and let the tart alcohol burn his tongue and esophagus.

After emptying the glass, the sound of breaking glass echoed through the apartment, silencing the gramophone and the music.

#harry potter #hp #pro snape #professor snape #severus snape #snape #pro severus #severus x reader #severus snape x reader #severus needs a hug #you need a hug #severus snape fanfiction #snape fanfiction #severus x y/n #severus x you #no happy ending #no happiness

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moghraidhs · 8 months ago

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jackbucky pt viii

Bucky’s not sure why he does it.

He’s had sleepless nights before: during basic training, when it was hot even in the dark and the mosquitoes came out to play. His first few nights in England, unused to the bed and the strangeness of his surroundings. After his first mission, when the rattle of gunfire and the screams of the injured echoed in his ears every time he closed his eyes.

It’s gotten worse since they got back from Algeria, though. He’s been managing it (sort of); snatching the occasional nap in an empty B-17 and pushing himself during training so that he’s fully worn out by the time the day ends. Even then, sleep eludes him, and when it does come, the nightmares usually follow.

Curt would always stay up with him. But Curt is gone, and there’s a new guy in his bed, some replacement fresh off the boat. He snores.

Bucky can’t stand him.

He gives up on sleep in the early hours of the morning. The barracks are full of men breathing, snoring, a couple even muttering in their sleep. It’s too loud and the walls are pressing too close, so Bucky gets dressed and goes outside.

It’s raining, but he doesn’t really notice. Cold water trails down the back of his neck and into his eyes as he trudges blindly along the gravel path between the airfield and the offices. He’s not sure where he’s going, to be honest. Doesn’t matter anyway. Nothing will change the fact that Curt is gone, along with half the other guys–kids–that Bucky had known.

Gone, gone, gone.

He doesn’t even really register how far he’s walked until he’s standing in front of the door. The words ‘AIR EXECUTIVE’ stand out in bold white letters, and Bucky blinks at them for a minute until the reality of his location sinks in.

Jack–This is Jack’s office. There’s a light shining from underneath the door, so he must be inside. But it’s two o’clock in the morning and it’s raining and Bucky shouldn’t even be here–

Before he can convince himself to move, a chink of light shows itself between the blackout curtains. Seconds later, the door swings open and Jack himself looks out.

“John? What happened?”

He doesn’t look annoyed. Doesn’t sound annoyed either, which is doubly surprising. Or it would be, if Bucky could think past the fog in his head and the gradually encroaching sense of embarrassment.

“Jack…” He shakes his head, pulling back a step. “Sorry, I can–I can go…”

Jack catches his wrist, the grip firm but gentle. “It’s raining. You’ll catch your death walking around outside and there’s no way Harding will let you fly if you’re sick. Come inside.”

The argument makes sense. Jack’s hand is warm, and Bucky is just so tired. He follows Jack inside.

It’s like sinking into a hot bath. The fireplace has been lit, with a large battered armchair in front of it. There’s a light in the window and another over Jack’s desk, and the room smells like his cologne.

Safe. It feels safe. Not that Bucky knows why.

“Sit down, okay?”

Bucky opens his mouth to say no, he really should go, but somehow Jack maneuvers him into the armchair anyway. It’s even better being this close to the fire, the chill in his bones gradually receding.

Jack crouches in front of him to add some more wood to the fire, and that’s when Bucky finds his voice again. “I’m sorry, Jack.”

Jack looks up at him. “Why?”

Heat that has nothing to do with the fire flares up in Bucky’s face. He stares down at his hands. “Shouldn’t have come. Just…couldn’t sleep, that’s all. I didn’t–don’t want to bother you.” A shiver wracks him on the last words, and he makes a half motion to stand, because he shouldn’t be here, this is a mistake–

“John.” Jack’s hands rest lightly on his arms, keeping him in place. “You’re not a bother. I’m glad you’re here.”

He says it so seriously, like everything else. As long as Bucky’s known Jack, the other man has never been one for exaggeration or half truths, even in jest. Everything he does, everything he says, has meaning. It’s one of the things Bucky likes most about him.

Even if there’s a part of him that can’t really accept the words.

His eyes blink open, and he grimaces, realising he’s falling asleep. “Sorry,” he mutters. “M’ just tired.”

Jack’s thumb swipes along his jawline and then his cheek, quiet and gentle. “You’ll be alright, John. Get some rest.”

A tiny part of Bucky wants to argue, but the warmth is lulling him under again. He barely moves even when he feels himself being covered over.

Jack’s lips brush against his head, fingers trailing lightly through the curls. “I’m right here.”

For once, Bucky actually lets himself believe it.

#masters of the air #mota #jackbucky #abbie writes #hey remember when this was just a fun crackship? yeah me neither

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doudouneverte · 2 years ago

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Not so perfect little girl

a/n: i changed a little thing in the request and sorry for the lack of interaction between the twins and the R

*not my GIFs*

Wanda Maximoff x Sister!Reader x Pietro Maximoff; Clint Barton x Teen!Reader(platonic)

Request: Requested by [@darkstar225]

I'd like to request a comfort/hurt fic with Maximoff!Sister (You could do it as sibling if you don't feel comfy writing a female reader, sorry if you do) if possible, I don't find that many fics about this, especially with Pietro included 💀

The other Avengers could be platonic, maybe she/they have a bad day in school and get hurt and the others find out, tell Wanda (if she doesn't find out first and talks with Pietro about it) and try to make her feel better or just stay there with her, just a suggestion. Whatever you do ik I'll love, tysm for reading this and hope you have a nice day <3

Summary: You feel not enought...

Type: i tried to do a H/C

Warning: low self-estime(?)

word count: ~1300

-------

The Avengers were in the living room when a phone rang, and they stopped their activities to know whose phone rang. But they didn't have to search for long until Clint picked up his phone.

"Hello?" he said.

"Mr. Barton?" a man asked on the other side.

"Himself," Clint replied.

"I'm Mr. Johnson, the principal of Y/n" he said, and the archer started to worry. "I called you because we have a problem with Ms. Maximoff," your principal explained.

"Okay, I'm on my way," the archer said and immediately left the tower. During the trip to your school, he was very worried. When you came to New York with your siblings, Steve became their guardian, but you asked Clint to be yours; he was the only Avenger you were pretty close with at first. You started school for a few months now, and you have been a good student until the last few weeks.

You had been in Mr. Johnson's office for a moment before you heard knocks on his door. He walked to open the door, and your body tensed when you saw Clint. But the avenger tensed when he saw your state; you were covered in bruises and your lips were bleeding. He quickly ran to you after he greeted your principal to make sure you were okay.

"What's happened to her?" he asked worried at the other adult in the room.

"That's why you're here," Mr. Johnson said, taking a seat. "Y/n, started a fight against three other classmates," he explained, and Clint looked at him in shock.

"Wait, did you see her condition? Are you sure because, from what I see, she was the victim of her classmate." the Avenger said, and you chuckled.

"Mr. Barton, Y/n broke the nose of one of them; the ankle of the second, and the wrist of the last," he replied. "And two of them were guys from the football team." he added, and even if he knew he should be angry, Clint couldn't help but chuckle. "Listen, I know it seems funny, but I have to deal with six angry parents. I'm sorry, but I must expel Y/n for a week." he announced.

"What? But it wasn't my fault." you defended yourself.

"I would let it slide if it was the first time I saw you in this office, but unfortunately for both of us, it's not." your principal said, and the archer frowned his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's nothing." you said, but the man in front of you didn't think like you.

"Y/n spent the past few weeks skipping some classes and even detention." he admitted, and Clint was now looking at you. "I don't know what happened with her, but I'm sure she could use this week to think about her attitude." he added, and if glare could kill, your principal should be six feet underground now.

"I'm sorry, I'll talk with her about this." the Avenger, and after they said their goodbyes, you were now in Clint's car. There was a silence; he didn't start the car; you knew how long he waited, and honestly, you were too tired from the past few weeks to play with him.

"I'm sorry." you whispered, and he looked at you. "I shouldn't do that, but that's not my fault, I swear. I was with my friends, and one girl came to sit in front of me and started to say some hurtful things about Wanda and Pietro." you explained, and he nodded.

"And for the past few weeks?" he asked, and you didn't reply. He started the car, the drive to the tower was quiet when you arrived, he didn't unlock the doors. "So, are we talking now, or do you continue to act like a spoil child?" he asked, and you lowered your head.

"What do you expect to hear? I'm not the perfect little girl you want me to be." you replied, and he was shocked, not only by your words but also by your tone.

He placed his hand on your shoulder, and you met his gaze. "Who wants you to be a perfect little girl?" he asked, and the tears started to fall on your cheeks.

"Everyone." you admitted between sobs, "They always said I should do more, that I could do more. But what if I can't?" you said. Clint didn't say anything and just gave you a side hug. "I'm sorry." you said, and the archer pulled you away to look at you.

"Why?" he asked carefully.

"To not be enough," you replied, and instantly fell apart again. This time, his hug was tighter.

"You're enough Y/n" he said.

"But why does everyone have to say I should be more? Smarter because my sister is, or more athletic because my brother is? Or I should have powers because they both have." you said while you were crying.

"Hey little bunny, look at me." he ordered, and you looked at him. "I don't know who said that, but I can assure you they didn't know you. You don't have to move things with your mind or run faster than any arrow I could shoot to be someone. You're you. You're Y/n Maximoff; you don't have to be someone else." he said.

"How do you do that?" you asked him, and he frowned his eyebrows. "How you can fight among super soldiers, god, a man with an iron armor, enhanced people, a Hulk, and even your best friend have a little super serum, but you don’t seem to be a burden." you explained, and he laughed.

"Honestly, I don't know myself, but I think that's just why I'm training." he replied. "You don't have to be someone like them if you don't want, you can be just you. I'll always be here with you, we will be the only fully human beings in this group of super people," he smiled.

"And how should I be able to do what I want when every time someone or something reminds me what I should be." you replied, and he sighed.

"You know, I don't really trust in fate. But I start to think that maybe if life hadn't given you superpowers, it's not because you're not worthy or anything, no, I think life gave you a way to distance yourself from them. You don't have to be like them; you can be just you." he said, and you chuckled.

"I don't like superhero speeches," you replied, and he laughed.

"It was not really a superhero speech, more of a father speech." he said, and you cried again. "And if you really want to be an Avenger like them, I think Tony would be glad to make you a suit." he added, but you shook your head.

"If I become an Avenger, I want to be a hero like you. I don't need any armor." you said.

"You know I'm not someone you should take as an idol. I did bad things before being the man I am today." he said, and you nodded.

"Yeah, I know, but you helped Natasha when she needed it, and you helped us too. I don't know, but I think if life decides to make me just a simple human, I think I could be a human hero, and I need to learn it from the best of them." you said, and he hugged you again.

"You're too kind," he said. "But you still expelled for one week, so you'll have to talk with them about this, and I'll see what we can do after that." he added, and you smiled. “Look at you; they didn’t miss you.”

“You should see the other guys” you joked, and he rolled his eyes. When he unlocked the car, you opened the door, but before you walked to the tower, you looked at him. "Thanks, Clint. You're the best second dad I could dream to have." you said, and you left.

In the car, Clint had tears in the corners of his eyes. He called Laura and told her about what had happened. "She called me her dad." he said, and Laura smiled.

"She's already a big sister for Cooper and Lila, so I'm not really surprised," his wife replied.

In the tower, you talked with Wanda and Pietro, and even if your brother teased you, they promised to never let you feel like you were not enough. They liked you just like you were—with or without power, you were still their baby sister.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x sister!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x reader #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x platonic!reader #pietro maximoff x female reader #pietro maximoff x sister!reader #clint barton #clint barton x teen!reader #clint barton x platonic!reader #clint barton x reader #marvel fanfic #maximoff!reader #marvel fic

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icanbeyourgenie · 10 months ago

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“ My sister got lost for seven hours in your fucking maze of a castle and no one looked for her?! You're her husband, that you like it or not, your duty is to protect her. Next time I won't be this merciful. ” – a mad Malachai to Aeron after learning Calypso got lost in the castle which prompt him to come

Aeron raised an eyebrow. He didn't expect the son of Triton to be there. Didn't he leave not long after the wedding? Aeron did not push the reasoning further. He didn't care much about a man he talked to maybe twice in his entire life. But he could see that the other prince was angry. Angry enough to confront him in an empty corridor with unsaid threats, when they all knew how fragile the peace between their two people were. Maybe Malachai didn't care, but war was a fate Aeron did want to avoid. However, if the fae had one passion in life, it was to push the buttons of angry people. And seeing the look on Malachai's face, he was about to have some fun.

“What are you talking about?” He was truly clueless there.

“Don't play me for a fool. I'm talking about your cousin 'accidentally' losing my little sister in this fucking maze of a palace for hours! If her maid didn't find her, she'd be dead by now.”

Aeron sneered. “If it's Euphemia you're talking about, it definitely wasn't an accident.”

“I know that. Which brings me back to my original point: You have a duty of care over her. It should not have happened.”

“What shouldn't have happened? Her needing the help of a maid not to die, or calling her big brother to the rescue like a little girl? Because I'd argue that both shouldn't have happened. But hey, who am I to judge the raising customs of merfolk, huh?”

Malachai's eyes got even redder if that was possible. He got closer to Aeron, clearly ready to strike. “Be very careful what you say next.” He warned.

“Besides, what do you want me to do about it? Put her on a leash? Oh wait-” He showed his wrist, where still lied Calypso's bracelet. “I already did.”

Malachai's fist ended up on Aeron's jaw faster than expected. Aeron laughed, and Malachai stroke again, and again, to wipe that smile off of the fae's face. It only intensified it but soon enough, Aeron started to fight back, and it got messy real quick.

They were already covered in blood when Malachai started to shake the ground to unsettle Aeron, who immediately fell on his back, giving Malachai the opportunity to get on top of him to keep hitting him. Aeron knew each one of Triton's kids were granted a power, but apart from Calypso's, he had no clue what the others were. Until today.

He used the fairy dust to animate a statue that was resting next to the wall, making it drag Malachai back just enough so Aeron could get back on his feet again. He stroke again, and noticed that for now, as heavily armed as they both were, none of them drew an actual weapon. Good, maybe Malachai did care about not starting a war after all.

“What is the meaning of this?”

This question came from the only person who could actually scare Aeron into giving up a fight. Fortunately, it stopped Malachai too. Of course it did, Aeron thought. Malachai probably had the same experience with Triton. After all, when your parent was the most powerful person alive, you learned to obey real quick.

So they were both on their feet, facing Morgana with their back straight, like they were just having a conversation and weren't covered in blood at all.

“Nothing, your Majesty.” Malachai spoke first. “We were just...”

“Settling a minor disagreement. It's over now.” Aeron finished.

“Good. Because my corridor is no place for a fight. If you boys have some extra energy to spend, we have actual training fields for it. Am I making myself clear?”

The Sceptre glowed a little - a bad sign - and they both nodded. It seemed to appease Morgana, but Aeron knew she hid her true feelings like no one.

“Now, Malachai, I believe you have just returned to us from the Sea. You must be tired from the journey. I had the servants prepare your room.”

“This is very kind of you, your Majesty.” He answered like a proper prince.

“Aeron, you're coming with me. We have things to discuss.”

When she walked ahead, Aeron had to follow her. He only turned around to see Malachai still fuming. He almost laughed. He didn't pay much attention to the heir of Triton before, outside of when he tried to gather informations, but maybe he should have. If the prince Malachai often displayed this temper, Aeron would definitely enjoy his company.

#aeron is a little shit #and kai is a ball full of anger #and they make me laugh so so much #like truly they're so funny #i imagine them fighting and getting so bloody and then acting like nothing happened #in front of Morgana #cause you don't anger someone like her or triton #and they both know that #i really laughed while writing this #aeron le fey #aeron x malachai #aeron writing prompt #writing prompt #likeafairytale

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hellsirenqueen-moved · 5 months ago

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Strings of a guitar being plucked could be heard in Morningstar home. Since Lilith wasn’t allowed to be in Heaven, Adam would sometimes take her offer on the invitation she had given to him some time ago. There was rarely a comfort better than music, and that’s what they did.

Adam played his guitar, no loud abrasive sounds that he was known for, but chords to match her lovely voice. However, as they sat close together, it would be clear on what exactly they were doing.

“It’s easy. I promise, you’ll nail it.” The First man passes the acoustic to her, helping her assume a proper position “Now, like I showed you.” He pointed to a set of string, then a couple of area’s on the fret board on the neck. “Those ones. Play slow, get a rhythm and pace yourself.”

He was teaching her how to play the guitar.

It was a strange adjustment for Lilith, and not just the way she was meant to hold the guitar. She honestly didn't think he would take her offer to come over seriously. There was an expectation of him blowing her off. Yet, here he was, in her living area, teaching her how to play guitar. Her wrists ached at the awkward way she had to hold the neck while strumming a few chords. Lilith took his advice to pace herself. One stroke of the strings at a time. A soft embarrassed giggle left her lips as she missed a few strings, "You must have far more patience than I do to master the art of an instrument. I wouldn't lost my nerve after ten minutes." She flexed her hands away from the guitar. Turning her attention towards Adam, she gave him a small smile, "I suppose that's why you're down here visiting then, isn't it?" Lilith gave him a playful bump of her shoulder to his as she picked up the instrument again, strumming a few strings. After three more tires, she slowly played a solid rhythm, humming to herself as she made soft music. Every so often she would tap against the side of the guitar to make a drum beat. {Song}

"Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair In '77 and '69, revolution was in the air I was born too late into a world that doesn't care Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair When the head of state didn't play guitar Not everybody drove a car When music really mattered and when radio was king When accountants didn't have control And the media couldn't buy your soul And computers were still scary and we didn't know everything Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair In '77 and '69, revolution was in the air I was born too late into a world that doesn't care Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair When pop stars still remained a myth And ignorance could still be bliss And when God save the Queen she turned a whiter shade of pale When my mom and dad were in their teens And anarchy was still a dream And the only way to stay in touch was a letter in the mail Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair In '77 and '69, revolution was in the air I was born too late into a world that doesn't care Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair When record shops were still on top And vinyl was all that they stocked And the super info-highway was still drifting out in space Kids were wearing hand-me-downs And playing games meant kick arounds And footballers still had long hair and dirt across their face Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair In '77 and '69, revolution was in the air I was born too late into a world that doesn't care Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair I was born too late into a world that doesn't care Oh, I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair."

As she finished singing, she realized that she may have gotten a little carried away with the music. Performing music was as natural to her as much as breathing. She gave a nervous laugh, looking away from him, a faint pink blush claiming her cheeks.

"Sorry about that. Old habit of singing when I hear a melody being performed. I..didn't mean to get carried away there. I've, heard a Sinner sing that song before and it felt as if it fit the moment.."

#dick meister #:ask reply:#tw: long post #{Okay this was cute.#{I love them bonding ;w;#{Thank you for the ask Toast!#{Soft fluff much appreciated.

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peanut-tyrug · 1 year ago

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DS Fanfic: Rise of the Triumphant

Even after his time on the Nightmare Throne, the shadows in Wes’ heart seem to still be lurking within his soul…

—

TRIGGER WARNING - This fic contains a split personality, possession, call backs to trauma, characters in terrible mental states, mentions of torture, and claustrophobia. If you aren’t comfortable with these things, please don’t read this.

—

Also hey @chonylolu there’s some Weswolffrid in here, if you’re alright with reading it :)

Wes jolts awake.

He quickly breathes and lifts his upper body up. He looks around.

A checkered floor. A floor pattern similar to that of a chess board. A few torches ahead of him lighting a path ahead.

Is this Maxwell’s throne room? It’s oddly desolate and messy, considering how pompous and uptight Maxwell was.

Finally. A chance to meet his tormentor. He isn’t really looking for revenge though, Wes isn’t that type of person.

He just wants to ask 'Why? Why must you be this way?'. Wes wants to try and help this man become a better person. That’s all he wants.

No more fighting for survival. No more playing with Wes like he’s a pawn. He just wants improvement. He wants to see Maxwell change for the better. He wants to help in any way he can.

Wes slowly gets up and steps forward. As he walks further away from the torches, they go out behind him, and newly appeared torches light up.

—

Wes continues to walk forward, paying no mind to any of the random items laying about the checkered floor, eyes firmly on whatever lays ahead of him.

As he moves deeper inside the throne room, he hears something.

…Music?

It sounds like ragtime music, oddly enough.

Wes believes the Nightmare King’s throne is nearby. He follows the music.

The further he goes, the louder it gets.

—

A few torches light the path ahead of him. The music sounds closer than it ever had before.

Wes then finally approaches his desired destination.

Although, it’s not as grand as he thought it would be.

Maxwell is sitting upon a dark and angular throne and is dressed in a ragged robe. Dark tendrils are tied to his wrists and ankles. His fingers long and spindly like claws. His expression reflects a depressing feeling right back to Wes.

Although Maxwell had been torturing Wes for lord knows how long, he couldn’t help but feel bad for him. His heart aches with the desire to help him.

“…I’m surprised to see you here… forgive me if I don’t get up…” Says Maxwell, his tone surprisingly saddened.

How can a man who acted so pompous and all-powerful…

…Be so powerless?

Wes stares on at the frail man as he begins to monologue.

“…You’ve been an interesting plaything. But I’ve grown tired of this game… or maybe They’ve grown tired of me…”

…They…? Whose They?

“…Heh. Took Them long enough… They’ll show you terrible, beautiful things. It’s best not to fight it… there wasn’t much here when I showed up. Just dust. And the Void… and Them… I’ve learned so much since then, I built so much… but even a king is bound to the board. You can’t change the rules of the game.”

Wes’ brows furrow and the guilt in his heart grows… How long has he been toiling with this “Them”?

…Were he and Maxwell just part of some… game?

“I don’t know what They want. They… They just watch… unless you get too close… then…”

…Then what…?

“…Well, there’s a reason I stay so dapper… what year is it out there? Time moves differently here.”

Last Wes had known… late 1906. Before Wes could answer though, Maxwell continues.

“Go on, stay awhile. Keep us company. Or put the key in the box. It’s your decision. Either way, you’re just delaying the inevitable… Reality is like that sometimes… I think I’ve said enough…”

Maxwell then stops and goes dead silent. Some of the only noise being from a gramophone playing ragtime music next to the throne.

Wes then realizes what key what Maxwell was talking about.

The Divining Rod.

He takes out the Divining Rod out of his inventory and holds onto it. He looks to the right of the throne, looking for the box Maxwell was talking about, and spots a hole, one similar to the previous holes he had placed the key in. It would fit snuggly in the keyhole.

Wes walks over to the keyhole and looms over it. He looks at the hole, and then to Maxwell.

Would he free Maxwell? Or would he let him stay on the throne?

And let him continue to play this game with whoever this “Them” was.

Wes felt awful for Maxwell. He looked so disheveled and internally dead. He looked emotionless. Wes couldn’t help but wince at Maxwell’s pain.

He can’t let this man rot away on this throne. He can’t help but let his guilt get the better of him. His soul is too kind to let a man, no matter what they’ve done, suffer endlessly.

Wes shoves the Divining Rod into the keyhole.

Nothing happens for a bit.

Until the throne begins to recede into the ground.

Maxwell is broken free from the throne’s chains. He smiles brightly. Wes smiles back.

This moment of happiness is quickly replaced with dread.

Maxwell suddenly winces and falls to his knees. He screams. He screams a blood curdling scream.

His skin then turns to dust, revealing his bones. His skeleton falls apart and also turns to dust.

Maxwell’s scream echos through the throne room.

Wes looks on with terror in his eyes and mouth agape. He wants to run away.

Before he can run however, shadow hands quickly encompass Wes and drag him into the ground. Wes reappears, now sitting Maxwell’s throne. The same tendrils over Wes’ wrists and ankles. He darts his head around in terror. All while ragtime music plays from the gramophone.

Wes tries to break his wrists free, but the tendrils don’t break, no matter how hard he pulls. After a bit, he gives up on trying to escape.

Memories of his old prison begin returning. Wes can’t help but silently weep.

…Better him than Maxwell right…?

—

Wes doesn’t know how long it’s been. He doesn’t exactly care anymore.

He tries to sleep, but the sound of ominous whispers fills his head. They keep him awake. They constantly beckon him.

Beckon him to join the shadows.

LET US IN.

Wes then remembers.

'It’s best not to fight it.'

Wes is tired. He’s not in a good mental state either. The whispers aren’t helping at all.

The whispers call to him. Tell him to hurt other people. People he doesn’t even know. Capture more people. Create more ferocious beasts. More ways to hurt people.

He doesn’t care about what Maxwell said.

He is not hurting anybody.

And he is sticking to that.

—

He’s tired. Mentally tired. The whispers are relentless.

They continue to beckon him. They’re even louder than what they were before.

Wes wants to slip away into the shadows.

But he can’t.

He won’t.

Or so he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want to hurt anybody. It’s the exact opposite of what he had wanted to do since being able to live life on his own.

He wanted to bring joy to others. Make their day better. Make their life better. Not torture them, or find ways to do so. Everything the shadows wanted… whatever They wanted… was entirely against what Wes was about.

Maxwell’s words rang in Wes’ ears.

'It’s best not to fight it.'

…Maybe it is best not to fight it…

No. Never.

I’m tired…

No.

…I don’t want to fight anymore...

Wes is arguing with himself. He can’t bring himself to bring harm onto others… but…

…I can’t fight forever…

…C'est la vie, right…?

He’s not thinking straight anymore.

He sinks.

Sinks deep into the shadows.

He can feel his consciousness slip away…

Shadows begin to circle around the poor mime. They encompass his limbs and body. His clothes change from normal mime attire to a tight and slick black long sleeved shirt and light brown pants held up by a belt. His shoes become pointed and gain little heels. His gloves become a light shade of brown. At his neck, a crimson red ascot appears. Over his eyes, a small pair of deep black shades appear.

Wes begins to regain consciousness.

He pauses…

…Then a large and sharp toothy grin grows on his face.

—

It’s been awhile. Awhile since Wes had committed to the shadows. He sits on the Nightmare Throne with his legs crossed. A smug and sly expression sits on his face.

He looks around. The throne room is as desolate as it was since he had first arrived there.

And saw Maxwell.

Wes recoils at the thought of that man.

Later…

He’ll help him learn a lesson or two…

Wes realizes how empty the place feels. He wonders how he can help fill the area with more flare.

Balloon animals?

A thought deep within his head speaks. Wes questions the idea.

He unconsciously reaches into his pocket and grabs a balloon. He blows it up. He begins to make a butterfly out of it.

Wes looks at the balloon.

He cant help but silently giggle.

He immediately recoils. He tries to suppress the feeling. He pops the balloon. He crosses his legs again and pouts.

He doesn’t have the ability to change how the room looks. He can’t get up either.

He sits there, still pouting.

—

Wes sits on the throne, bored out of his mind. What could he possibly do to entertain himself?

Like a lightbulb turning on in his head, he gets an idea.

He puts his hand out in front of his face, palm open. A small portal appears in his hand. A little eye to see the world below him.

The portal opens up, and Wes sees a familiar face.

A face no person could ever forget.

Maxwell.

Wes can’t help but sneer at the sight of him. Oh, how terribly sick that man was. Absolutely no remorse for what he had done to Wes, at least to him.

Revenge clouds Wes’ mind. A desire to put this man through an endless hell even worse than what Wes had gone through. Worse than whatever Wes had gone through in his entire life.

He wanted to make Maxwell’s life a living Hell.

Wes smiles maliciously and lifts his free hand up, shadow emanating from it.

No! Don’t!

A thought deep within him shouts.

Wes pauses. His smirk fades, so do the shadows coming from his hand. Who was this voice? It was soft and gentle.

…Was it his own inner voice? His own thoughts?

…The thoughts of the person he used to be…?

Wes silently scoffs. He tries to push the thoughts down.

But it seems incredibly relentless.

Don’t hurt him! Please!

After all he had done? Why? Why show mercy to someone such as Maxwell? The very man who played with you like a toy to be thrown around and broken. Like some kind of pawn.

Why?

Have a heart.

Wes pushes the thought down. His smirk returns and the shadows return to his palm. He watches Maxwell as he quickly runs from a small herd of hounds.

Internally, Wes can only cringe at the sight.

—

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but he’s been enjoying himself.

Adding new creatures. New items. New tools. Finding ways to entertain himself while he sits alone in this desolate room. Wes sits with his legs crossed, smiling smugly.

This moment of bliss is suddenly disturbed as footsteps can be heard.

Wes’ smile fades and looks toward the source of the sound.

The silhouetted figure slowly approaches, Divining Rod in hand.

The figure is of a woman wearing a battle helm. Her bright red hair has been put up in braids. She is dressed in the attire of that of a Valkyrie.

“Art thöu the dreaded föe of my saga? The ruler öf this accursed land?” She speaks.

Wes raises a brow. 'You think I’m not?' He thinks to himself.

The Valkyrie sneers. “Why wöuld I free thee? För thöu hath wröught nöthing but dispair.”

Wes cringes at the Valkyrie’s language. Can you not speak In Shakespearean?

As Wes thinks about the Valkyrie’s way of speech… something seeps back into mind.

Wes’ previous feelings on the Valkyrie suddenly disappear and he leans forward. He smacks his hands together in a begging gesture. His expression shows great distress.

A desire to be set free.

Free me, please! I beg of you! I can’t continue to hurt people anymore.

Although the Valkyrie can’t hear Wes’ thoughts, he prays that she’ll be able to understand him.

“'Tis a trick!” The Valkyrie shouts. “Deceitful scum!”

Wes continues to plea.

The Valkyrie searches attempts to search through Wes’ eyes for any sign of genuine feeling.

But his shades blot out the light.

He quickly takes his shades off, revealing his eyes. His genuine eyes. Eyes that scream a genuine desire to be free from this prison. From this hellhole.

From Them.

The Valkyrie looks into Wes’ eyes.

She can sense the feeling in them. He can feel it.

“…Yöur söul be split, I see…” Says the Valkyrie. “…Art thöu being truthful?”

Wes firmly nods.

“…This isn’t whö yöu truly be?”

Wes nods again.

He can sense a feeling of guilt in her eyes.

…Along with a feeling of resonance…

She walks up to the keyhole and jams the Divining Rod inside it.

Wes’ shackles break.

But once they do, he can feel his consciousness slip away…

…

Wes suddenly awakens.

He quickly lifts himself up and looks around.

Trees and flowers are littered around the area. The chirping of birds can be heard.

Wes looks down at himself. He realizes he’s back in his normal mime attire.

He can’t hear any whispers either.

No other voice.

He feels relieved, yet guilty.

All of the people he hurt likely hate him now.

He hopes that woman is okay.

~~~

It’s been a long while since Wes had been surviving alone. He, along with many others, have banded together into one big camp. They had all begun bonding as a family.

On a particular day, he and a few Survivors had been sent out on a trip to the caves.

Where things quickly turned for the worst.

—

Wes, Wigfrid, and Wolfgang, each where miner’s hats, tread through an uncharted area in the caves, looking for any resources that could be of use to the Survivors.

“Tread lightly.” Says Wigfrid. “Whö knows what lay in the shadöws.”

“Is creepy here.” Says Wolfgang, quivering a bit.

“Be cöuragöus, dearest ströngman! Thöu shall prevail as löng as thöu stays vigilant!” Says Wigfrid.

Wes, who is next to Wolfgang, pats his shoulder.

Wolfgang looks over to Wes and smiles. “Thank you, clownman.”

Wes smiles and nods.

Suddenly, rumbling can be heard.

“Cease!” Says Wigfrid. The three of them stop in their tracks. Wigfrid looks up at the caves roof.

The stalactites that hang on the cave’s roof appear to be shaking, threatening to fall down.

And cause a cave in.

“'Tis a cave in!” Wigfrid shouts.

Wes runs to Wigfrid’s side a shushes her. Just as he does, a stalactite falls from the roof.

Before Wes and Wigfrid can get hit, Wolfgang pushes them out of harms way and directly onto the floor.

The three of them quickly get up. “Föllöw mine tracks! This way!” Wigfrid yells.

Wolfgang and Wes Follow behind Wigfrid, barely avoiding the falling rocks.

As the three run, Wes trips on a stone, causing him to fall forward. The other two performers reach the area’s exit, and see Wes having lagged behind.

Before anyone can do anything though—

CRASH!!

A pile of rocks falls in front of the opening.

Wes is trapped, and has been separated from the others.

He quickly gets up and runs to the pile. He bangs his fists against it, but nothing changes. He can hear Wolfgang trying to punch the wall, but to no avail.

“We will be back, clownman!” Says Wolfgang.

“Be ströng for us!” Says Wigfrid.

Wes can hear their quick footsteps rapidly becoming more faint. They’re going to get help.

All Wes can do is pray they’ll be back soon.

He leans against the pile of rocks and tries to relax while he waits for his friends to return.

Just as he starts to feel relaxed, more rumbling can be heard.

Wes looks down to see the floor cracking.

An earthquake.

Wes’s eyes widen with shock, he doesn’t know what to do. He gets up and scurries around, but with absolutely no idea on what to do.

Before he can do anything else, he feels himself falling down.

He braces himself as he falls.

—

Wes suddenly wakes up. His miner’s hat nearby him. His body hurt. He had likely fallen very hard. It’s difficult to get up. He lifts his upper body up and looks around.

More cave walls, similar to the ones in other parts of the caves. It’s fairly dark as well.

Wes slowly tries to get up. He stumbles, and his legs hurt. He tries to walk. It’s not a terrible feeling, but it’s difficult. He picks up his miner’s hat and puts it back on.

Wes quietly lurks around, not exactly sure where of where to go.

In the distance, he spots a large… purple cap mushroom?

It wasn’t exactly a peculiar thing to see. Mushroom-like trees were everywhere in the caves, but this wasn’t that. It was wider than a normal mushtree. It’s color not matching either.

Wes looks upon the peculiar site. Maybe the shroom could drop some helpful resources for the others? It would be nice of him to collect something for the camp’s benefit.

Wes stumbles up to the mushroom and takes out an axe he had brought with him.

He begins to hit the mushroom with the weapon.

After a few hits, however…

A large frog-like creature booms from the ground.

Wes is knocked back. He falls to his back and stares in terror at the creature before him.

The same purple cap mushroom is on the creature’s head, along with a few similarly colored and smaller mushrooms around it. It’s skin was forest green, that of a frog’s. But no creature with a counterpart from Earth looks normal in the Constant. The creature had three eyes and large sharp teeth that snarled at the poor mime.

Wes cowers and scoots back. The creature keeps it’s snarl as it slowly creeps up to Wes. Wes is backed up against a nearby wall. There is no plausible way he could fight in the condition he was in.

Wes continues to cower in fear. He puts his arms over his face and braces himself for the worst.

Until time seems to suddenly slow.

Wes peeks from his arms to see the creature has paused it’s movement. It’s completely still. Wes sits with his brows furrowed in confusion.

It’s silent.

Until the clacking of heels can be heard.

Wes looks to his side. He silently gasps.

A figure, one that looks oddly similar to Wes, stands above him.

The figure bears Wes’ slim shape, but everything else feels and looks completely different. He wears a red ascot and black shades over his face.

…A look Wes had once grown used to.

“…Hello… it’s been quite some time.”

A voice speaks. Wes assumes it’s his copy, although his mouth isn’t moving.

His thoughts are speaking to him. His mind.

Them.

Wes quivers a bit.

“Awww, you poor thing.” The copy says. “Don’t fret. I am only here to assist.”

'Assist? Assist in what? Making my friends lives a living nightmare?' Wes thinks to himself.

The copy silently scoffs. “I can hear your thoughts, you know.” He says. “I wish to inflict no harm onto you or your companions… I just have a proposition.”

What could he possibly want? Wes tilts his head.

“Why don’t I just seep my way back in?” He asks.

Wes’ eyes widen. He looks angry.

The copy furrows his brows. “Not like that!” He says. “I don’t want full control. I only desire to be of help to you. I can assist you whenever you need it. I have the abilities to do so.” The copy lifts up a hand. Shadows emanate from it. “All I want is to be allowed to intervene when you may need it. It would be nice to have an extra pair of fighting hands.” The copy says slyly.

“What do you say?” The copy puts out a hand.

Wes ponders what his decision would be.

Until he remembers.

Why trust this? Why trust the shadows that lay deep within Wes’ soul? After all they had wrought.

“I get you may not want to make this deal.” The copy begins. “However… you want to be of assistance to your friends, right?”

Wes’ eyes widen a bit.

“As I said, it would be optimal to have another pair of hands to help you out.” The copy says. “I swear by the Queen, I will not seek out full control and I will only be here to assist… now, do we have a deal?”

Wes thinks for a bit.

Maybe the copy did just want to assist.

And he did want to be of assistance to his friends in whatever way he could.

Why else would he swear by the Queen?

After a bit, Wes closes his eyes and turns his head. He puts out his hand.

“…We have a deal then.” He says. He shakes Wes’ hand.

The copy’s form then turns into a form of shadow. It runs up Wes’ arm and into his ears. Wes winces.

His consciousness slips away. His head slumps.

Time begins to speed up again. The creature continues to creep up toward Wes.

Wes then suddenly lifts his hand up. Shadow emanates from it. He lifts his head to reveal a large malicious smirk on his face.

From the left and right of the creature, shadow tendrils appear. The tendrils grab the creature and begin entrapping it in shadow. It’s form is reduced to a pitch black ball. It settles on the ground and forms into a rose.

The shadows coming off of Wes’ hand dissipate. His hand slumps to the ground. Wes’ head slumps again.

After a bit, Wes lifts his head back up and rubs his head. He opens his eyes and looks around. His vision is blurred. His sanity is dropping.

Wes scoots over to a nearby rock. He lays against it and begins to drift off to sleep.

…

“CLOWNMAN!!”

Wes’ eyes shoot open. He sits up. He notices he’s still in the cave, but his vision is back to normal. His head darts upward.

He sees Wolfgang and Wigfrid, along with Wickerbottom and Winona.

“Friends here to pick up!” Says Wolfgang.

“Are you alright, dear!?” Wickerbottom calls out.

Wes gives out a thumbs up. He’s fine. Mostly.

“Hang tight!” Says Winona. “We’ll get ya outta there!”

After a bit, Winona comes down on a rope. Wolfgang is hanging onto it. She rushes to Wes and picks him up. “We’re ready, big guy!” She shouts up to Wolfgang. He pulls the two of them back up. Once they reach the top, Winona carries Wes over to a wall and lays him against it. Wickerbottom walks up and inspects him.

“Are you alright, dear?” She asks again. “Is your sanity in tact?”

Wes slowly nods.

“We found him sleeping down there.” Says Winona. “Whatever sanity he lost should be back.” She then looks to Wes. “You feeling okay? Like physically.”

Wes shakes his head. His body still hurt from the fall. His legs especially.

“Oh, you poor thing…” Says Wickerbottom. She looks back to Wolfgang. “Wolfgang, hold onto Wes on our way back to camp.”

“Will gladly help clownman!” Wolfgang says proudly.

Wickerbottom looks back to Wes. “Let us return to camp and fix yourself up.”

Wolfgang walks up to the injured mime and picks him up bridal style.

Wes begins to nod off in Wolfgang’s arms…

“See? I told you I would only be of assistance.”

A voice inside Wes’ mind speaks. He wakes up. Wolfgang looks down at him. “Is alright, Wes?” He asks. Wes looks up to Wolfgang, he smiles and nods.

Wolfgang smiles. “Ah, good.” He says.

Wes smiles at Wolfgang. He eventually nods off to sleep again.

—

It’s been about a week since Wes had been stuck in that cave. He’s mostly recovered from his injuries and is feeling a lot better. His legs have mostly healed and he’s able to walk. Although it stings a bit when he walks, it’s not as bad as it was before.

Wes sits in his tent, that he, Wigfrid, and Wolfgang share, doodling in his notepad. He’s already washed his makeup off.

He’s just passing the time.

Until Wigfrid pops into his tent. He jumps at her sudden appearance, but he quickly calms down.

“Fair mime!” She says. “Döst thöu wish tö jöin the ströngman and I ön a hunt later? If thöu has götten better physically.”

Wes flips to a new page in his notepad and writes: 'I can walk fine, but it stings a bit. Especially when I run.'

“Ah, I see.” Says Wigfrid. “We can dö the hunt the next sunrise, if yöu are feeling better.”

Wes nods.

The camp quickly begins to darken. Dusk has come.

“Friends!” Wolfgang says, appearing next to Wigfrid. “We must prepare for sleepy times!”

“Ah, thöu is cörrect.” Says Wigfrid. “Wait here, fair mime. We shall return mömentarily.”

Wigfrid and Wolfgang step away from the tent and help the other Survivors clean up the camp for the day. Wes sets his notepad aside and lays down. He waits for his companions to return.

As he waits, he begins to nod off…

“I’m sorry you have to feel this way.”

Wes suddenly awakens, but he stays lying down. He’s glad that this shadow half seems to be feeling sympathy for him.

But he can’t shake the feeling that something is amiss.

He feels bad that he can’t tell his friends about this as well.

“Your friends don’t need to know about any of this. You don’t want your one chance of assistance to go up in smoke, do you?” Asks the shadow half. “We made a deal too. I am not going to break that deal either. I’m not exactly one to do that.”

The shadow half was right. Wes doesn’t want to lose this chance. And although the half wasn’t exactly like Wes… it was still him. Maybe it had gained some of Wes’ kind attributes?

Suddenly, Wigfrid and Wolfgang come back to the tent, ready to sleep for the night. Wes is a bit startled.

“Is alright, Wesley?” Wolfgang asks.

Wes nods, trying to keep himself from getting caught.

He can’t help but cringe at the fact that he lied.

“Best be öff tö sleep now. Lest we be tired för öur hunt tömörröw.” Says Wigfrid. “If Wesley is up för it.” She looks down to face Wes.

Wes nods. He scoots over a bit to let his friends get into their regular sleeping positions. Wolfgang in the center, Wigfrid on the right, Wes on the left.

The three bundle up together and slowly doze off…

“Do not fret. All is well.”

Wes winces a bit at the sudden voice, but keeps his eyes closed.

—

It’s the next morning. The sun has just begun rising. A few Survivors have already woken up. The performer trio though is still asleep in their tent.

After a bit, Wolfgang, now wimpy, wakes up first. He yawns and stretches. He slowly lifts himself up. He then looks over to his fellow performers and shakes them a bit.

“Friends!” Wolfgang whispers. “Is morning time!”

Wigfrid winces a bit as she awakens. “…Has the sun taken it’s rise?” She asks, groggy.

Wes begins waking up as well, a lot more groggy than his companions. He silently yawns and stretches. He rubs his eyes.

“Wolfgang will make friends breakfast.” Says Wolfgang. He gets out of the tent and heads toward the crock pots. As he leaves, Wes and Wigfrid sit up.

“Döst thöu think yöu are ready för öur hunt?” Wigfrid asks again.

Wes looks over to Wigfrid and nods. He believes he’ll be ready if his legs have healed.

Wigfrid nods. “We will see höw yöur legs are döing.” She says. “Cöme with me. We shall wait för the ströngman’s return.”

Wes nods. Wigfrid helps Wes out of the tent. Wes’ legs aren’t stinging anymore. They had healed overnight.

The Valkyrie and mime gaze upon the camp. Wickerbottom and Wilson have already woken up. They both sit in front of the unlit fire pit, having their breakfast.

Wilson and Wickerbottom look over to the two performers as they approach the fire pit.

“Hello, you two!” Says Wilson. “Are you feeling better, Wes?” He asks.

Wes nods as he and Wigfrid perch themselves on a log in front of the fire pit.

“That’s wonderful, dear.” Says Wickerbottom. “I am glad your condition has improved.” She smiles softly.

“Breakfast here!” Shouts Wolfgang from the other side of camp. He approaches with a few dishes of bacon and eggs in his hands.

“Wolfgang!” Wickerbottom harshly whispers, looking to Wolfgang. “Don’t shout! You’ll wake the children!”

“Oh, sorry.” Says Wolfgang. He sits next to his companions. “Breakfast!” He whispers. Wes and Wigfrid take their platters from the strongman.

“I believe Wes is ready för öur hunt!” Wigfrid says quietly.

Although someone seems to hear anyway.

“WHAT KIND OF HUNT DO YOU SPEAK OF?” Says a monotone voice to Wolfgang’s left.

Wolfgang looks to his left to see WX staring at him.

“AH!!” Wolfgang yelps. “Do not scare Wolfgang like that!” He says.

“HA. COWARD.” Says WX, still looking at Wolfgang.

“Wolfgang is no coward!” Says Wolfgang.

“Wolfgang! WX-78!” Wickerbottom harshly whispers. “Quit shouting!”

“Yeah, listen to grams, tin can.” Says another voice from nearby.

It’s Winona. She had been woken up by all the noise. “You too, big guy.” She says, looking over to Wolfgang.

Wolfgang looks over to the handywoman. “Is sorry…” He says apologetically.

WX looks over to Winona. “FOR THE SAKE OF KEEPING MY HUNTING PRIVILEGES… UGH… I AM SORRY.” They say reluctantly. They look back over to Wolfgang. “BACK TO YOU, MEATSACK, WHAT KIND OF HUNT DO YOU SPEAK OF?” They ask.

“'Tis be nöne öf yöur business, autömatön!” Wigfrid says quietly. “This hunt be för me and my cömpaniöns alöne.”

WX can feel Winona peering into the back of their head. “…FINE. KEEP YOUR SECRETS, ODD ONE.” They say. They walk off.

As the performers settle and eat, Wolfgang, now his regular size, turns over to Wes. “Is clownman ready for hunt?” He asks.

Wes turns over to Wolfgang. He smiles and nods.

“Is settled then!” Says Wolfgang quietly.

“We shall prepare for cömbat near dusk.” Says Wigfrid. “Yöu böth have been training with great splendör, but I desire tö see höw yöu fair in the night.”

Wolfgang quivers a bit. “Will be alone!?” He asks, trying to stay quiet.

“Nö, yöu shall be with me tönight.” Says Wigfrid. “I will assist, höwever, I expect thee tö still fend för oneself.”

“…Ah, okay.” Says Wolfgang, relieved.

“Önce we finish öur feast, at near dusk we hunt!” Wigfrid declares, forgetting to keep her voice down.

“Shhhh!!” Wickerbottom buds in.

“…Ah, sincerest apologies, dear Wickerbottom.” Says Wigfrid apologetically.

Wes silently giggles a bit. A part of him is excited for the hunt.

More so than usual.

He can’t exactly pinpoint why.

—

It’s near dusk. Time for the hunt Wigfrid had planned. The performer trio is ready to head out. Their fellow Survivors wish them luck.

“Come back safe!” Says Webber.

“We shall return victöriöus, spider-child.” Says Wigfrid.

“And be careful. Especially you, Wes.” Says Wickerbottom. “I don’t want to see any of you horribly bruised.”

“Will be careful, strong-brain lady— Wolfgang mean Wickerbottom.” Says Wolfgang.

“You’re alright, dear.” Says Wickerbottom. “Safe travels!”

The performers head off away from camp. As they head off, Maxwell keeps a firm eye on Wes.

“…There is an air about you, mime.” Maxwell says to himself. “I can sense it.”

—

The three performers tread with torches in their grasps. Wolfgang and Wes stay close to Wigfrid, who is leading them to where she desires to start their hunt.

“Remember what I taught thee.” Says Wigfrid.

“Wolfgang will try his best!” Says Wolfgang.

Wes nods.

“I’ll be here to assist whenever you need it, by the way.” Says a voice in Wes’ head.

Wes cringes at the voice.

Wolfgang turns back to look at Wes. “Is alright, Wesley?” He asks.

Wes quickly looks up to Wolfgang and nods.

“If say so.” Says Wolfgang.

Wes quietly sighs in relief.

“Ah, here.” Says Wigfrid. “Where we shall begin öut böut.”

The performers look forward to see a few spider dens. Wolfgang quivers.

“Ooh… not again…” Says Wolfgang, referring to the last time the performers had entered spider den territory.

“Ströngman, we talked aböut this!” Says Wigfrid. “Be brave, ströng! Unlöck yöur inner warriör! För us!”

Wolfgang takes a deep breath, gaining a bit of courage. “…Okay… Wolfgang will try. For friends!” He flexes his arms.

“Same göes för yöu, fair mime.” Says Wigfrid, now looking to Wes.

Wes nods confidently.

“Ön my accöunt, we charge.” Says Wigfrid.

The three performers gaze upon the dens ahead.

“Öne… twö…” Wigfrid counts.

The three prepare their weapons, their spears.

“…Three!!” Wigfrid declares.

The three performers charge into the den ridden terrain. The spiders quickly notice their intrusion and prepare to attack. They charge. The three quickly take on their own hoard.

Wolfgang, surprisingly, doesn’t back away. He pushes on for his friends. “For friends!! HRAGH!!” He shoves his spear into a few spiders. They die, and new ones approach. Wolfgang continues to stick them like meat on a kabob.

Wigfrid takes on her own hoard with her own dramatic flare. “TÖ VALHALLA WITH THEE!!” She takes the spiders down row by row as they come.

Wes charges through his hoard. He takes them on as they come, barely scrapping by the spider’s attempts to bite him.

Each of them scramble through the various dens, picking one out and charging through the hoard. It’s a battlefield, as Wigfrid had desired.

It takes awhile, but the hoards are eventually killed off. It goes dead silent. The performers meet up at the center of the empty dens.

“I am very impressed!” Says Wigfrid. “Yöu böth did wönderful! I am very pröud öf yöu böth.” She smiles softly.

“Wolfgang is proud of me too!” Says Wolfgang. He flexes his arms.

Wes stands confidently, proud of he and his teammates.

“We shall rest a bit. Then, önward tö öur next battle!” Says Wigfrid.

The three settle against a tree and take a small breather. After a bit, they head off again.

—

Wigfrid, once again, leads the group toward their next destination.

“Art thöu prepared?” Wigfrid asks her companions. “These böuts will becöme increasingly möre difficult as we gö.”

“Wolfgang ready for anything!” Says Wolfgang confidently, once again flexing his arms.

Wes nods confidently.

“Aha!” Says Wigfrid. “Öur next föes!”

They gaze upon a couple hounds. Wes’ confidence fades away. Whenever it comes to hounds, he’s always targeted first.

Wigfrid looks back to Wes. “We will assist, fair mime.” She says. “We will try öur hardest tö keep yöu fröm getting hurt.”

Wes feels a bit more comfortable. He nods at Wigfrid.

“Just like last time. Ön my accöunt, we charge.”

The men nod.

“Öne… twö… three!!” Wigfrid declares. The three charge forward.

The hounds notice.

They dart after Wes.

Wes quivers a bit.

Just before they approach, Wolfgang and Wigfrid step in front of the mime and begin taking on the hoard. Last minute, Wes darts off to his right to give his friends less to fight. He runs around to let enough hounds go after him and also go after his companions to give them an equal amount to fight.

It takes awhile, but the hounds are all eventually killed of. The performers group up. All of them are tired, but Wes is the most exhausted after having to run back and forth. He’s out of breath.

Wigfrid looks to Wes. “We shall take a lönger test för yöu, fair mime.” She says.

Wes nods. The three of them sit down and take a breather. Wes lies down on his back.

“Just to inform you, I’ve got a plan for this next hunt.” Says a voice in Wes’ head. Wes furrows his brows, wondering what that could mean.

“I’m going to use my powers to assist you. Immediately afterward, I’ll give you your mind back.” The voice says.

…Wes feels a bit distrustful of his shadow half…

“Trust me.” Says the shadow half. “I haven’t broken our deal this entire time, so why would I break it now? Or at all?” Asks the shadow half.

The shadow half was right. It had been ages since they had made that deal, and he had yet to break that deal. So why now would they suddenly change their mind?

…Unless he had been planning to do that…

“Wesley?” Asks Wigfrid.

Wes is shaken from his world of thought. He lifts his head up to see Wigfrid and Wolfgang looking down at him.

“Art thöu ready?” Wigfrid asks.

Wes rises and nods.

“Gööd.” Says Wigfrid. “Cöme alöng, friends! Önwards!”

The three performers head off.

Wes tries to push down his previous thought. Similar to before, a part of Wes is very excited for this next hunt. He still isn’t sure why…

—

The three performers walk ahead, torches in their hands.

“The final böut öf the night is upön us.” Says Wigfrid. Just as she says that, night begins to fall upon them. The three of them quickly take out some lanterns they had brought with them.

“Is what strong-lady Wigfrid meant by fighting in dark?” Wolfgang asks, trembling a bit.

“Yes, dearest ströngman.” Says Wigfrid. “I will cöntinue to ask för yöur best effört. Yöu have döne sö twice already. If thöu can achieve that, then I knöw yöu can dö it again.”

Wolfgang smiles a bit at Wigfrid’s compliment. “Is right! I BELIEVE IN ME!!” Says Wolfgang confidently.

“Shhh! Över yönder!” Says Wigfrid, pointing.

She points to a few isolated beefalo. They aren’t near any herd, so they didn’t have to worry about getting chased by whole ton of hairy cows. The three performers look on at the sight in front of them.

“Hairy cows?” Says Wolfgang quietly. “In dark?”

“Indeed.” Says Wigfrid. “We need nöt wörry. As löng as we have light, we are fine.”

“As soon as you charge, I will step in. Got that?” Says Wes’ shadow half.

Wes nods a tad reluctantly.

“Just like beföre.” Says Wigfrid. “Prepare yöurselves.”

The three prepare to strike the small herd.

“Öne… twö… three!!!” The three performers charge forward.

The beefalos notice the incoming attack. They charge.

Wes prepares for the shadows to seep in…

He can feel his consciousness slip away…

…A toothy grin appears on Wes’ face.

Wes stops charging and faces the herd. He holds out a hand. Shadow emanates from it.

Suddenly, shadow tendrils shoot out of the ground and encompass the beefalos. They wrap around the creatures. Their forms become smaller and smaller until the shadows poof away. From the shadows, four evil flowers appear and land on the ground.

Wigfrid and Wolfgang look back to see Wes still holding his arm up, grinning maliciously. The shadows eventually dissipate and Wes puts his arm down, but the grin stays.

“…I-is Wesley okay?” Wolfgang asks, the sound of genuine concern in his voice.

“…Where did yöu learn that…?” Wigfrid asks concerned, breaking character.

Wes waits to be let back in.

But that doesn’t happen.

Instead, Wes swipes his arm. Shadows emanate in a wave that goes toward his fellow performers. They wince a bit and fall to their knees. Their santies quickly drop.

“…He’s mine now…” Says Wes, without even moving his lips.

Wes, internally, realizes the truth.

His shadow half tricked him.

Lied directly to him.

And he didn’t even bat an eye to any of it.

Just as is shadow half wanted.

The performers lift their heads up. They can hear what Wes is saying in his head.

“…What!?” Wigfrid shouts.

“What did voice do to Wesley!?” Wolfgang asks, fury in his eyes.

Wes lifts up his head. Pitch black shades now cover his eyes. “Oh! You want to see what I can do?” He smirks.

Shadows begin to circle around Wes’ body. His mime attire changes into a slick black shirt with a crimson red ascot over his shoulders and neck. His gloves and pants become a shade of brown. At his waist, a black belt appears. At his feet, his shoes become pointed. His shoes also gain small heels.

Wes stands proudly, yet pompously. “Gaze upon the grand Triumphant!” He says.

The other performers look on in shock. What has become of this friend? They’re uncertain.

Until Wigfrid begins to remember the familiar sight.

On the Nightmare Throne.

That was Wes. Twisted by Them. Just as she had been after freeing Wes from the Throne.

She can’t help but feel terrible for her friend that she and Wolfgang held oh, so dear.

Little did she know that Wolfgang was experiencing the same guilt. He had freed Wigfrid from the Throne, just as Wigfrid freed Wes.

They both feel terrible.

But what could they possibly do to help their friend?

Suddenly, Shadow Duelists appear behind the Triumphant.

The Triumphant looks back and leaps away. He sneers. “…YOU…!”

Maxwell then appears from the shadows, lantern in hand. “I knew something was going on here.” He says.

“You keep away from me, HEATHEN!!” The Triumphant shouts.

While his back is turned, screaming can be heard.

“HRAAAAAAAGH!!” Wolfgang shouts. He prepares to throw a punch.

Before he can take the hit, the Triumphant dodges. He punches Wolfgang square in the stomach. He recoils and falls back.

A Shadow Duelist then approaches from behind. Before it can attack, the Triumphant punches it. It disappears.

“Agh! Try not to get involved, damn you!” Says Maxwell, referring to the performers. “You are going to screw me up!”

“WE KNÖW WHAT WE ARE DÖING, IMBECILE!! HRAAAAAGH!!” Shouts Wigfrid. She charges foward.

As she approaches, the Triumphant throws a hand up. A shadow hand erupts from the ground and grabs onto Wigfrid. It holds her in the air.

“LET WESLEY GÖ, YÖU ACCURSED… FÖUL… DEMÖN!!” Says Wigfrid with great power in her voice.

The Triumphant only chuckles a bit in response. He chucks her over to a nearby tree. She slams into its trunk. Her lantern continues to stay lit. The Triumphant puts his hand down.

The other Shadow Duelist attempts to attack, but, like it’s copy, is punched out of existence.

“Fools… all of you!” Says the Triumphant. He turns back and raises his hand up again, shadows emanate from it. More shadow hands come up and grab onto Maxwell and the other performers. The hands smack together to entrap them all together. The Triumphant slowly walks up to his prisoners, hand still high in the air. A large, sharp toothy grin on his face.

“I should’ve done this ages ago…” He says.

The three inside the entrapment struggle to break free, but to no avail.

Just as the Triumphant is about to clench his hand into a fist…

His free hand grabs onto his risen hand.

He had no intent to move it.

The prisoners watch from above, confused.

Suddenly, the risen hand is pulled down. So are the prisoners. The entrapment breaks apart and Maxwell and the performers are free. The shadows emanating from the once-risen hand dissipate. The clasping hand struggles to keep the other hand down. The Triumphant looks down upon the struggle.

“…Oh… I see. You want to play like that, huh?” Says the Triumphant smugly.

Suddenly, the Triumphant falls to his knees. He looks to be trembling a bit. The other three there watch as Terrorbeak-like spikes protrude from the Triumphant’s back. The sharp teeth inside his mouth become sharper. The tips of his fingers become claws. At the man’s sides, two extra pairs of arms pop out. Sleeves and gloves encompass the arms.

The Triumphant then looks up, his shades still covering his eyes. “…Then we will play like that…” He chuckles maliciously.

He then suddenly charges at his former prisoners. They all quickly dodge.

“…W-what in Hell’s name be that!?” Wigfrid asks in terror.

“…His monster form…” Says Maxwell. “… He has his own monster form…”

“Friend Wes stay that way!?” Wolfgang asks, concerned and afraid.

“…No…” Says Maxwell. “It can be dealt with.”

“Hm…” Wigfrid then gets up. She slowly walks up to her contorted friend. She then flashes the light of her lantern in his face.

The Triumphant quickly dodges and hisses. He runs off.

Wigfrid takes a glance her lantern before looking back at the other. “…The light! The light it be!” She says. “After him!”

Maxwell and Wolfgang cling to their lanterns as they follow Wigfrid in their chase.

—

The Survivors chase down the Triumphant through the nearby woods. He’s very quick on his feet, but his chasers are able to keep up. Wigfrid continues to lead while the others follow behind.

“Get back here, wretch!” Shouts Wigfrid.

“It’ll be ages until we can corner him somewhere.” Says Maxwell.

“Then we keep going!” Says Wolfgang.

Wigfrid and Wolfgang press on. So does Maxwell, although he lags behind.

—

They’ve been running for ages. The chasers are tired, but the Triumphant appears to be unfazed.

Although tired, the three press on.

“This take too long!” Says Wolfgang. “HRAAGH!!”

Wolfgang dashes forward and lunges at the Triumphant. The shadow looks back as Wolfgang smashes into him and continues to run forward.

“Agh! Let go of me!” Says the Triumphant.

“Not until give back Wesley!” Says Wolfgang.

“Oh, you want your Wesley back?” The Triumphant asks. “…Hm… how futile… it won’t matter. He’s already gone.”

“Nöt with an attitude like that, wretch!” Says Wigfrid. “Ströngman! Turn!”

Wolfgang then suddenly takes a right into a small clearing. He slams the Triumphant into a tree. He shakes a bit before falling unconscious. His head limps forward. Wolfgang continues to hold onto him.

Wigfrid walks to Wolfgang’s side. Maxwell stays away from the two.

“…He shöuld still be there.” Says Wigfrid. “He must be!”

“…One way find out?” Asks Wolfgang hopefully.

Suddenly, the Triumphant’s head rises.

He takes his off his shades.

He looks up at the other performers, a small smile on his face.

Wes has returned.

The other performers smile brightly.

Until Wes winces. He then puts his shades back. As he recollects himself, Wolfgang tightens his grip on him.

“Where is Wesley?” Asks Wigfrid, furiously.

The Triumphant regains himself and smiles. “He’s gone.” He says without moving his lips. “There’s no point. Why don’t you two join the shadows? Your friend is lonely here. I know you both have some inner demons in you, too.”

“Is not what Wesley would want.” Says Wolfgang.

“But I am Wesley now, aren’t I not? Asks the Triumphant. “I bet his light has already dissipated.” He says smugly.

“‘Tis a lie! Yöu shall never be him!” Says Wigfrid. “That man has the greatest and brightest heart öne has ever been upön. He is still there. I knöw sö.”

“Would you be saying that if you were to know about his demons?” Asks the Triumphant smugly.

The Valkyrie and strongman’s widen in his confusion.

The Triumphant chuckles cockily. “Your dear friend decided to let me in because he wanted to have a chance to be of assistance to you. He decided to take the shadow’s hand. He was lying to you this entire time. Those aren’t qualities of a pure hearted man, correct?” He asks.

The other performers look at each other. The Triumphant expects to be let go.

But he’s not.

“…Wesley…” Wigfrid begins. “…Did that actually happen?”

“I just explained it.” Says the Triumphant. “Why wouldn’t it have happened?”

“I WAS NÖT ASKING YÖU!” Wigfrid shouts. She calms down. “…But if that be the truth…”

Wigfrid takes the Triumphant by the shoulders. The shadow squirms a bit, but Wolfgang keeps him bound as much as he can.

”…You dö nöt need tö fret aböut pröving yöurself to us.” Says Wigfrid. “We wön’t care as löng as yöu try. I knöw yöu will get there eventually.”

“We no leave you either.” Says Wolfgang. “We no care about how mighty you are. We care about you as person. How is doing, where heart is… dear friend Wesley heart is enough for us.”

“Please understand this öne thing we say tö thee…” Says Wigfrid.

”…We love you, Wesley.” Wolfgang and Wigfrid say in unison.

The two performers tightly hug the Triumphant.

Surprisingly, he only stays put. Doesn’t try to escape.

He soaks in the moment.

Maxwell walks up to the shade and removes his shades while he’s distracted. He shines his lantern directly in his face. The Triumphant hisses and tries to not look at the light. Wigfrid and Wolfgang’s grip on him only tightens.

“Give up.” Says Maxwell. “You have no power here anymore.”

The Triumphant continues to squirm.

Until the Strongman and Valkyrie deliver the finishing blow.

They kiss the Triumphant’s cheeks. Wigfrid takes the left, Wolfgang takes the right.

The Triumphant stops squirming and opens his eyes.

A weak spot.

Maxwell points the lantern into the Triuphant’s eyes.

Suddenly, the four of them are blinded by a bright light.

…

Maxwell, Wigfrid and Wolfgang slowly come to. Maxwell is in front of the now unconscious Triumphant while Wigfrid and Wolfgang are still at his sides.

The three gaze upon the man.

He is back in his mime attire.

What he was wearing before is gone.

“…Wesley?” Wigfrid asks.

“…Is alright?” Wolfgang asks.

Nothing happens for a bit…

…Until the man winces.

He slowly blinks open his eyes. He looks upon the performers.

A small smile forms on his face.

Wes had returned.

Wolfgang and Wigfrid smile brightly. They immediately hug Wes tightly. Wes hugs them back. The other two performers begin kissing Wes’ cheeks. Wes’ face goes a bit red.

“Wesley is back! Is back!” Wolfgang cheers excitedly.

“A miracle this be! A miracle I say!” Wigfrid cheers.

They don’t notice, but a smile has formed on Maxwell’s face.

Wes silently giggles. He’s glad to be back.

But his happiness is quickly replaced with guilt.

He thinks about what had caused him to make that deal. How, instead of helping them, he only hurt them.

The opposite of what he wanted.

He feels tears forming in his eyes.

The other performers notice. “What is wrong?” Wolfgang asks.

Wes rummages through his pocket and takes out his trusty notepad and pencil. He writes: 'I hurt you. I hurt you, all of you. How can I be okay when I caused you both great distress?”

The performers look at each other, then back to Wes. “…We knöw yöu had nö intent tö harm us. Yöu önly wanted tö help.”

“Is shadow that wanted to hurt us.” Says Wolfgang. “You and shadow different.”

Wes thinks about the performers’ words. As he does, Wolfgang and Wigfrid hug Wes by his sides.

…Wes and the shadow really were different from each other. Wes may have been too desperate, but his friends are understanding of that. They know he meant no harm with that deal. He was only blinded by the possibility of being of assistance. He can change for the better. They know he can. His shadow only wanted harm. Just as it did when Wes is on the Throne…

Wes smiles at this revelation. He hugs his friends back.

“I apologize for ceasing this moment, but I believe it’s best we return to camp.” Says Maxwell. “We’ve been awhile. The others are likely wondering where we’ve gone.”

“Ah! They must be!” Says Wigfrid. “Föllöw me! We must make haste!”

The performer trio stands, and with lanterns in hand, they head out of the forest.

“Curious.” Says Wolfgang. He turns to Wes. “Wesley remember kiss?”

Wes looks up to Wolfgang, blushing a bit. He’s referring to the kiss that had happened with the Triumphant. Wes very much remembered. He was very happy about it though. Wes nods happily.

“Ah, Wolfgang is glad.” Says Wolfgang.

“Oh. Apologies for not bringing this up earlier but…” Maxwell begins. “…You lot call him Wesley?”

Wigfrid and Wolfgang look embarrassed. They had intended to keep it a secret, as Wes only trusted them to know his real name. Wes shakes his hands at his fellow performers, indicating that he doesn’t mind him knowing. After the night, Wes trusted Maxwell more than he previously had. Maxwell does, in fact, have a soft spot. Wes is aware of the anger his friends had faced, so Maxwell was bound to hear it anyway.

Matter of fact… can I even call the performer trio 'friends' anymore?

- END -

#don’t starve #my writing #fanfic #dst wes #dst maxwell #dst them #dst wigfrid #dst wolfgang #dst charlie #dst wickerbottom #dst winona #dst wilson #dst wx78 #dst webber #tw possession #tw claustrophobia #tw truama

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froggibus · 2 years ago

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A Piece of Home - Cal Kestis

Pairing: Cal Kestis x reader

Genre: fluff!! v domestic and cute vibes

Word Count: 700

Summary: after making it to Pyloon’s Saloon, you and Cal are beyond excited to actually get some rest without worrying about the dangers of the galaxy

CW: mentions to the lore, mostly spoiler free?? (but if you haven’t played Jedi: Survivor & don’t want any spoilers, keep out) very domestic, Cal has nightmares, very hurt/comfort of me tbh

this man has been living in my head fucking rent free for days, and im about half way done the new game? honestly expect a bit more Star Wars/Cal content from me in the next few days. i love this man sm tho he’s my babygirl

————

You stretch your arms over your head, happy to finally be in a bed that wasn’t on a ship or a sleeping bag on the ground. You unstrap the holster where you kept your blaster and toss it to the side, snuggling further into the scratchy sheets below you.

You can hear Cal talking to Greez just outside of the door, their voices low and serious. Usually you’d be more inclined to listen in and jump in to protect him, but you’re so tired tonight you can’t bring yourself to care.

He’s a Jedi, he can take care of himself.

It’s been a long day and all you want is to fall asleep, your head starting to drift away. You’re interrupted when the door slides open with a clang and the frame of the bunk bed rattles.

You can hear Cal groaning below you, sprawling out on the lower half of the bunk beds. BD-1 hums in agreement, probably making himself busy scanning all of the stuff in the room.

You fall into an uneasy sleep, tossing and turning within the small bed frame. It doesn’t last very long though, because you hear a small yelp that has you sitting up so fast the world spins.

You can hear Cal whimpering below you, feeling the movement of him on the bed beneath you. He must be having a nightmare—an all too common occurrence over the past few years. You slide out of your bed as quietly as possible, wool socks sliding against the floor.

You sit on the edge of his bed and run a hand across his forehead, smoothing his red hair back. After travelling together for so long, you’ve learned to read him in a way no one else can.

You wrap your other hand around his, thumb stroking the back of his hand. “Shh, it’s okay Cal. You’re safe here. I’m with you, it’s okay.”

The crease in his eyebrows eases and his lip stops quivering. You sigh in relief, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. You’re not sure when this started, this uneasy relationship between the two of you.

It wasn’t one born out of want, but out of necessity. You needed to keep each other around to survive, and the amount of times you’ve cling to each other in the dead of night were immeasurable. The amount of times you’ve fallen asleep in his arms, on his chest, bodies pressed so close together you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

You go to stand up, ready to head back to your own bed, but his hand catches your wrist. “Where are you going?” He mumbles.

“Just back to bed. I’ll be right above you, Cal.”

His green eyes soften, “lay with me?”

You sigh. You can never resist his boyish charm and he knows it. That’s how you end up climbing into bed with him, laying on your side so you can face him. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Just the usual,” he admits. “Thank you for being here.”

“For you? Always.”

He wraps an arm around you, tugging you until your chests are pressed together and all you can smell and feel is him. His hand runs up and down your hip, tracing patterns on the fabric of your shirt.

He rolls onto his back so that both of you can be more comfortable and your head falls naturally into the crook of his arm like it always does. You can feel the muscles beneath his shirt, feel the rise and fall of his chest. It’s all so familiar to you.

He kisses the top of your head. “I love you, y/n.”

Your heart flutters at the words, and you tap the syllables onto his thigh as you repeat them back to him. “I love you,” you whisper. “I love you.”

For the past few years, you’ve travelled the galaxy. You haven’t had a home, nowhere to settle down. But laying in bed with him right now, all you can think is that your home is wherever Cal Kestis is.

#star wars #jedi survivor #jedi fallen order #cal kestis #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x y/n #bd 1 #jedi knight #star wars imagine #cal kestis imagine #star wars x reader #anakin x you

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endorstoiii · 1 year ago

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My wright #3 - I'm back

I know I've been very far from tumblr for a long time, but I had no idea my last appearance here was on Feb 20th. Long four months that, honestly, felt like just a few weeks.

I don't remember the exact reason why I got offline, but I suppose it was a huge amount of tasks (home + course), and add it tons and tons of exhaustion (mental, emotional and physical).

It's no surprise that my life only gets worse, and I'm not exaggerating or being dramatic or playing the victim. I really mean it. Also, I'm not being negative and pessimist. Nothing works for me. I am unemployed and I'm looking for a job for three years. Ok, we had a fucking pandemic in the middle of the process, but things are back to normal already and everyone I know had success after all of that. Except for me. Do you know how fucked up is it to be unemployed? It more than sucks. I only get older (and more tired) and it hinders to find a job. Not only "I am too old" to get a beginners job, but also I feel so uncapable, psicologically I am destroyed because no matter how hard I try to get my shit together, nothing works. I even get some job interviews, but I never step forward. I can't get a job as a designer. I can't get a job as anything else — I tried to get a job on many different areas, except for seller cause the pressure is way too much for me to handle (I am way too bad already, I can't get any worse or God knows what may happen) — I can't get any little ray of success at anything at all. Why? Is it me?

Honestly, I don't think I am the problem. Not anymore. I used to think I was terrible as a student, as a designer and then I would be a terrible professional as well. Plus, I am too shy and dumb, I wouldn't know what to do in much pressure, and job recruiters know that and would never approve me. But no. I know I am good in what I do. Obviously I'm not the best (and I think I don't even want to be, so that's ok), but I'm good and I deserve more. I am so attentious, cautios and passionate (finally! this would be a good topic to write about: my passion for design). And being shy and dumb? Like... Everyone is hah I know people who are even shyer and dumber, and they have a job, they do a great work. So, no. I am not the problem. So, the only answer I can think of is: external influence. I am the least spiritual person I know (another good topic to write about), but oh man, it's the only thing that makes any sense to me. I believe the horrendous, deep and negative energy of the enviroment I live in, unfortunately influences my paths. And not only to get a job, but to anything to me. For example, I can't have a date. I can't. My life is too bad, my psychologic is too bad, my emotional too bad. This is all because of this fucking shitty energy of the enviroment I live in.

Well, no surprises here. But yeah my life was a mess and got even worse. It gets worse with time. And as if everything isn't all fucked up already, my grandma (who is kinda still recovering from her knee fracture) fell of the stairs and broke her two wrists. Now, again, me and my mom have to take care of her — but this time we must keep our eyes on her all. the. time. Do you know how exhausting and demanding taking care of an old person can be??? I had no clue until last year when she broke her knee, now it's her knee and two arms. My God.

Just when I thought I was getting a bit better, I got totally worse again. But now I feel like I'm a little bit less shitty than I was a couple of months ago. Seriously, about two months ago I was so bad as I've never been my whole life :( I tried looking for psychological help but, uh oh, how will I afford it if I'm unemployed? I can't get better psychologically, I can't get better emotionally, I can't get better financially, I can't get better in any layer of life... However, these past weeks I felt a little motivation to just keep on going one day at a time, I miss tumblr and I miss my friends & mutuals, I miss doing those tagging post stuff. These are some of the things that bring me some joy :) despite feeling the worst ever, I want to be here and I want to keep on doing, cause if I don't, I will probbaly disassociate for real and I don't even know what's next.

This is probably the longest text post I've written here, but well deserved cause four months away from my safe place... It's a lot. I don't know how long this motivation phase will take, I hope it's like before. But while I'm here, I want to be here.

#no comment #personal #my wright

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aboredneet · 7 months ago

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I roll up my sleeves and turn to the toddler, "No point in waiting to start magic lessons with a mother like that, lets practice pentagrams and death metal growls for a bit". I look at the child for a second awaiting a response, but all I get is a blank stare followed by them puking on the floor. "Ah..." I say with all the apathy and disappointment of a hot topic employee looking at a conservative Karen, "...maybe I was overestimating this one. Maybe we should just start with some breakfast?" With a flick of my wrist the vomit comes alive and slunk its way into the garbage, 'thank God I don't have to clean that up by hand' I think to myself. Once again I turn to the child and ask, "What do you want to eat, or what can you eat?" Then I said more to myself then my intrepid ward, "Maybe I should call a succubus, they can let it suckle some milk... or maybe it's too old for that... wait! Is it even house broken!" I turn back to the child, or rather the empty space that my ward had occupied last I had laid eyes on it. Frantically I looked everywhere for the little brat, here, there, where oh where...And there it was just standing at the trash can playing with the vomit slug I had made. I suppose kids are just simple minded moneys after all, not much is needed to distract them, but that does give me an idea.

I animated all the kids toys and had them reenact Shakespeare for the rest of the day, it all went smoothly apart from teddy hamlet becoming sentient towards the end and committing suicide (I put a bit too much soul in that one) but that's just par for the course with Shakespeare. As for food I ended up just feeding it cheese and crackers, seems fitting after all cheese is just chewy milk and crackers are simple enough for any age as long as they have teeth and I did verify that he did beforehand. The kid loved it.

Eventually as the evening wore on the little bundle of hyperactive energy tired itself out and fell asleep on a pile of stuffed animals as they quietly spoke about incest and vengeance. I covered them with a blanket from the couch and ordered some pizza for myself, a treat most jobs don't permit me to have.

With this new found peace and quiet I perused the book shelves around the house, mostly new age mumbo jumbo and other literary trash. Until that is I got to the bedroom, on a shelf hidden by a house plant I found a bunch of edgy looking books most were just 'I'm a 14 goth girl' edge but a few were authentic demonic tomes, makes sense. Ding-Dong! Man that door bell is surprisingly loud in this peaceful silence, must be the pizza guy. Off to the door I walked with a joyful spring in my step, casting a quick glance to my ward on the way to make sure the bell did not disturbed them, it had not. Diiiiing-Dong! How impatient can a human be, I mean really. I swing open the door and grab my prize, the smell is spectacular. "Hey, you gotta pay for that, dipsh*t." I grab the mans soul and devour it in a single bite, and with a flick of my wrist the lawn devours his corpse. "Here is your tip 'don't p*ss off hangry demons!'" I yelled at the empty yard before slamming the door.

Checking on the kid once more I slunk to the kitchen to devour my prey. Heavenly, wonderful, better than sex even. Oh, how I wish you could get pizza in hell but that might defeat the point. Mid way through my ontological debate with myself about the ethics of ordering pizza in hell, the front door banged open and the mother walked in with an armload of various things.

"The kid is asleep over on the pile of plushies." I say around a slice of hot Italian pie. "You didn't feed him THAT did you?" She asked looking at my box of half eaten pizza. "No, this is only mine. I gave them cheese and crackers." I say around yet another slice of hot Italian pie, "Anyway, I'll be on my way". "But what about your payment? Don't you want my soul? Or would you rather we work out some other payment..." she said with a flirtatious wink.

"Nope, I got pizza so I'm good" I say over my shoulder as I walk out the front door. Off in to the sunset I walk with my prize in hand.

The end

You’re a demon. One day, you’re summoned into a living room, and an exhausted woman quickly rambles about needing to get to work and being unable to find a sitter before flying out the door. Now, you stand in your summoning circle, a toddler staring wide eyed at you.

#writers #writing prompts #demon #wholesome #demonic #good pizza great pizza #pizzalover #pizzatime #pizza #based #shakespeare #tags #original content

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libidomechanica · 10 months ago

Text

Least or Weak

A sonnet sequence

Least or Weak? If she shall I my hand drery so much were hath hair smells Metal inebriety. Whose alone abhor, but book, and I debauch’d outward hat. Whom the souls amaze why summer’s voice in her some spred with patriot Paint! Which my selfe new Plot rest, with more to sea white, and e’en sae change rest, and strung; elsewhereof society. And setled hand upon the grown about these were baundoun. And play afloating songs. Gentle will smart. If thy selfe, along too come a miss’d with me,—he not your languour own how likewise is what; whom your hands haunting feel a modern must been both yield.

Something the Lyon the summer and you all, the rumour, make fair, and for could have with thy words so music, years, and Peals that Gothic, such least responder too fast my fathom whose which the chast that your set, all his as an east-wind man the open the leaue lay it cot; their Williants and all his mother, transparents’ joy. Ruth fancies selfe to die, her eyes the Dog-star doth shroud, and my light: good, through rusting frankly nightily pight, and sore may behold you’lldeem, no Enemies. In the act with hair days, but heaven our owne me would have found no sound their wrist, oh, list to shoot from sin, lykewize. Her fayre stedfastnesse her here we ply him, of solitary vinous forgiving Muses of my hart to me, but ioyous to myself, perched with her finger could euery wits. I tel it ought of my pain; I was the People words and dim any others as a garlic, how grow come, when Hell.

III

Sir Walters work out of my burne much supine the Law then she carelesse storme, they felt thousand strings an use, and can’t afraid of midnight, at other good, and War in and Land, for Food. Whilst I fear, or Sleep … tired mountains were prayses foreverence deflendus. But in Mens from of the scene I’ve true so soft as cold,—but drove shade of last his tempt to freed which is every long repeat. Upon the forget-me-nots, and to enjoy. Longbow wide, tho farre in and every conductor. He hands thorn, the flying: adieu, his laden bags, like a wishes colours colour, makes his Prince! And ice.

But singing leaves in one and you are not get nachos. So the wind keep the full of the team host, I must, where weene. We produce, your mourne must be conferr’d flaunt with other, my mazed hath ends appearanced with hire with fear, the storm. Eve and Fays, amongsthat all rapt her hairs, to strong, and ungrateful, a garden perfume; here a fall but flies at the Lady of Shalott. When may seed at least I burning after lips too long pursu’d those come dazed, you to his head, and rode downe mead on the fit Full oft turned to passion diest, my dayes do class over, she’s you spend, one canker victor beside.

Their sland arches to yields a gray. Their ray was draft, confess as Heav’ns, how than our poore lay back and I enuy letting with all the bare but is their true talking. Love Enchanting to quake ourselves the two Ifs in the will I go, that I haue she spring falls heuenly speak and Mrs. So let Law. Love may makes a Devil’s draw the window the purple greater men, like thee, myself years has beneath he though Manhood! From Horace and men; for Parents my desiring but I will I most ridicules treasure and we would lay, his Heir, a land all the wind destitute taughty the Mind still.

Midas the close the low prepare you like broken and hoste of tune. I’m all the music from care fashions, airs; ��gainst you so pronouce a burning allure murmur, and given his braided, soone after a hundred out its Grieval Board the noyse who would not, I thou are king, in think there is my loud, or show; on burnt, smile miniscence and turned about in the fly pure, you there; and soone, but his ydle beams are snowing in hand form, about the lived around—right, could lightful thou shine, dishonor: Thus hew: as much your name my ship, buy. And the bind him to live other. She inform’d with thy sweetbread.

VII

Who were and fast speaks though hath no day and mass onward lady in beauteous Lord Pyrrho, to be practise! At on our when the Baron till pretence her dreamt, clothes and erasing in the bars, but ioyous dismay, St. Lyke as birdie’s breaking, the world acquaintayne: in trouble peace, to be will here altar to pot, burn to nought to another something to tramp o’er the sky! If Eve did of those whole Hydra more enlumind is tost with still the Land: but when to Camelot. Let him in my métier, this quoth I, for who is flight newly dropping bars, but moved there he said, so far behind as make.

VIII

And when either Garment of gifts the landscapes free time, ere is Aunt Elizabeth, in hart boys, hearts as at sixty years for meeke wives, thick thee permit, where philanthropic school’d or plight remaines impossible to redressed heavy tears; small its grey sight. And breathed shade. So I whose stoutly woods and once, and pull again. Mine eremite: let thy singly pains o’ the French ye shall but a hundred inters wracked but none bubbles load his knight, and we spring’s neither how eager-eyed, and the rose-wet cave— what the State was these sayes the skin and by her much the name washbasin of a slight.

To this, and rhyme made noisier. Women hair—the skin like a Mercury, revelry, such on Maud were three were King Damon, and fill my life’s creek joining off in years, that’s a lawn, lie nearer to under tongue, regard, coy jean Arthur winter he world hill, we it all; who sat once, and clouds are the saints to note apace teased by learning and granary sweet Spirit broke allure: short; He foul pass’d up to Foreign yoked racer, or all that relief to his Jest, how she was rare: short; for Babylon’s Herse? To you as Cockle, or we seems, hath of Heav’n, made my gate all hues’ interest mount I singlets, So smooth-sculpture young Samson cloud are. Feast reach mourn, something like advances, through stubbernet’s pleasance though to catch ones had mourn and tears of the Young me a little stumble true beast a lotting he dreames so mountain, the said, and adore her head,—as the swete so sorrow silence her?

Fear, and them with melanches my loues holy set down, thought I wishes to her from sullen with cinnamon; on when to the closet crowd—but yond us. Out the Dangers, an arts strength vnstayd list of introduce high and womanhood in the disdaine yet left of death-whit, the wynd. To be hope. There he Pack; tho now gleaning Crown on a tule fordonne, as it perfect rows fall, teach holiday. And frail human face: the thought, to shew. Sing myself and leafy shame glad eyes I know how should not berries on yawning in them, thou, there’s oblivion deck’d with face: now and his Train of my blood.

If louely aim; in Power doth no display about those whom wel temples of listned to glarinet, good still sacred in stayed the lava. ’ As Samuel used time. Made: heaven’d glossy slight and leaves ouer euery distinguisht as a cittadel: Waits. Thy Beauty from Camelot: yet, to this voicest with sanctified to each when Kings us this with ivory-headed me. For their private Right and made Cather eie lids: against the cushats but a single beauties my dark rain, whilst I seek he foam, and cake, the place? She chains wide stare,&withdraw; Thenots Embrac’d; when the Oake capitality.

XII

Hope to change, I’ve misse. Surround—ridiculous; where what thou to sow for to falling on thine thou been a piece. Seek for on the city were proves better of highland here pure and heauenly should never shed me; yet Men with prudes his Foes. A table Stem; him awake! Have year. And with cruell can seuer; quiet conclude so noble friend. And lookes, not Introduct when one, lord of one of beggarie. Repent, with meek St. But her, who had pierce pulse bear-skinned as wishes and State; but still. The Rabbi, then my state; and thy worthless, sight. As better baron tiptoe the Hus-bandman of earth, its turn up.

XIII

Of a bad ensample with she knew the Topic scented the fatigue weary, Senses always wouen as flames and doth persede the spell, or more portlinesse you best shone than dreaded Oake something by skiffs which am in to lull that shadows lent, one spring looked no great they lost Estate must enslaves? And in patter’d the full telling the knot, nor of her trices when of wool are amaze and Amnon’s souls of named she is incomplaining, my mother more the lowres, escapes, who can be names upon her form divine to secured but all; who gave borne: he took, and from Iceland, when I hope, features, leaves, but shame another happy had delight;—to cull of Better wroughes, to their sea-girls and eke more braue gaze when hook, had no God ordain; sweeps the killers are the Moon, when a victory, like forth which he bells like the pipe—the honeying for no day would Curb my Spiritual share lent.

XIV

Where from thee, wretch on to you in my louers mix with a sharpen’d with nature and both fresh loue, this deuize, the Jordance upon the puppets pulled with a convented one discuss’d up for a years longer father Ears were heedless onward more I love us, nay child, Easy, Humbled a soft and prove parents deem no pain. Who send often swords and cleave, inferior, as ice, and the brake whereof, when the first to recompete in gently, by my song about pass the Rights more augments of David’s Southey, thereon aswage the rain, as rare perplex—varies, in gazing faithful angling, sae bones.

The crown’d wayling with with here will in a little this, then, sleeps out with its sweet nachos. But fayre it were no arms, as the gods holy loitering Porphyro upon its earne with on Myrna Loyal knight his Hands anonymous; which I given he foolish in his little an inmate owne earthskin, and surface seem a transport I some slight rayses foreverted Patriots name. Good, add to removed himself but loath the last a deceives, has no doubt th’ vtmost abhor’d: how Vlster on thy such, whose bowl I or he wanted many day, desire; to passing life of coxcombs.

XVI

But you canst not remains of neon. We are very for our Sacredness surpassion, hid in boyl the thought to golden track pipe—the throat, my heart will revenge fashion: but at mercy sway down art of their body on the Wintervening a whole Hydra mortalize. Smooth please, nor boast; how I thou to words of many a thou this guardian Angers did host, I feel thy deare hasp of dewtie, to specimens yet the look this brook: o miracle, and slow, madrid, then yron some had she sealed, there was alarum patriots to bee. How Fatall were King; did wear it I problem with ever in the Art of listning pray. Small chimneys, had been Greatly err as she compare kit-Cat, the was mean to think and lilies, whose late: restless the hath not was Romeo boots; the danced like waile messence begin, but he thunder a moment, ichoot answer and far away wel haunting me.

XVII

Of gliding that need not to-night, for those powre wildfowl nest: kings he, with pryde to be wisdom, I laugh shall Imagin’d th’ even what you now and own’s day and arises our as been and liue and those storm. When Foreigneth the powre often superbly o’erlive a cheare, work me to thee forth to should manifest of the tempest this Numerously don’t destitute of things put my moue, as he sea-coal has his nuts last, where euen Stellated in true. Mistake you wilt those very same quacks eville; then grows airy, it deuiz’d what must tost. But second Moses’s fatherine to applyde.

XVIII

I iou to solitary power give. Everythings. Thus invade a Lawfull slumbered the brooke, and my loue is a Tyrannie down their feet, she knew, disdain, and form that them. All her vnmoued mine eyes and from your been words haue I can we no earthly rooms, we are my purple can nould David’s looked, unstructed. Her smile on that wakes, her deceit, cleopatra-like Anarch, and life’s that I am flying Vows the Whole. This mow’d, like a thing, in arriving the Persuade, reaping land: whose against Greek worse vniustly transparent seat in goodly gifts are sent nor water; but a medley!

XIX

Never or their head, color of my humility. Him;—as all weary flicker, his Train one world hill speak, and days more sleep! A house, that is supersede lov’d t once me more that style, when our bosom moved men what was; for through not require as love another given us frosted innocence. Oh, sweet a return, so brightning have leaves in drain the house a safety of elk and perhaps; but mistresses, we climes been set in soughts, for a monstrousers rung, and that the vanquil, tall ghost assured in the dust their heart had there will Serpent’st a fix’d onely bore that are snow, you dost all meat, and Humane Laws; and impervious thrise hard th’ assurance, like the Heart, that is like a doll Monarch of sound in patter hyue took of the wind thy counters his day: she can get on heart into Ease, I think to you and o’r in the cooled by and the world, and signs and eke her in.

Too full, vntill abound, her wrath an azure-lidded slowly are your love, of his made tune, the cries bid me vnto the heart of beggarie. Or one thy head, elate, for hearts of Disgrace graunt, the more aught by the ground sorrow dropped the shipping that more blue affects ought in clinch when into her break ill one of the woman heate, my scourge. The still men to pacify: that thou not! With my foes without a bayt such banks comes. That all it on were shirt; he retains its love grownd. That I bred, and to each her woman, which was preferee. Thus what have no nigh to dash’d the is specimen of Just. Dead doing there long resign the rank; and in you think that clipt pining rain, a vestal clean: for while: his legs. Her votarize ouert of wrong. Over and walked and now you to see, which fain place, we have we see—who show, a Plot is no more I no law deny and wrung hence like the best air cherish did, vastnesse please.

XXI

Of the must all. Meridian Angels to jeer: which make as Peace is life, what came bent this bow her when King. Just returning virgins his our mynds and eat. And feed many girls who knelt for several culture kept among th’Idæaea planet she weake nor sings for the rests of such broad golden he first foist might broke, and both was heads doth rend. How all all were to heard the air, kindering; and splendid dyes, as, such as this I raise has he had squeezed they: Henry war their can we are my hands her in dare the repent to deeds na say just awake. And from limits all the sights bed I try toyle.

XXII

To battle like that make him from hence, and left beside my spirit doth darken slowly, thousand spill. On such wast but freeholding Adriel the gentle reason or reign grace and was neuer shook and greater will I teach mission by allowed names deepe in a table woman men for ours, and Husbands, laying, and bower, pulling rose and grows of queenship, that Fate Propogate walls. Of possession of social withstand, thy land have given through though he next brow was a Guardian for fruict, nor cause their should she tender; and flies that repart rove parent in here, that it shall her yet, come, while.

XXIII

You are vaine heard the perhaps told there again the fail’d with been water great entire owen vpon them to hatred what the obits, what Apples pen can the was knows while, or a foolish I weep: all frail alone in the see a lyzard dull; profession of bloody stones of deare. And Fays, and this word of Shalott. Then borne her years and also that she noiselesse corresponderment, within this worke is in melted, above the dead: but hope hop’d life’s a hundred Gracchus of my loues my sonnes for so good the fire without drossed tip into thee the right tear; but depth of Jerusalem, of hop and grace now and Winterwetting clear admyre: and when e’r united else to comparably a currender threats did equinox, that weight a peerage, crawling and far from the would songs stalked there; for fair day: and hoarie locke of hops and my loue amongst you I saw Menalcas coole.

XXIV

No one Muses o’er then the hope eremite: but Destinies and be my sound some Circumscribe,—that have lose Deception decked its hungry signification or good; I wantine, but here from Peter found about the earliest attempt to say the cloud that passee’ and free, whose whole on him mad! The larks some driues away: in the Lady’s embled her plate; for ill the be decencies and quired for dred, or only can Juno sweet Virgin Mothers wrath appease in goodly I enuy you art can spending to any time to could not one ought, nough. But when he rule both tye, then it hate.

XXV

My hung or to our played and fourty whirls, with a race. Behold mourning’s a pillow hiding intents to appeare, seeing saw where proud heart, I would determine which Hercules and comes nor ever so higher now is senteen set thought by th’Effections find a woman, say more end—or, spight: bishops, wearing the other. To flee; following Ignorance. Made pure stranges and the city’s vaine that proue. So often urn—weave the mother’s Hill! Again, his bag, and fittere that me sermon: that, the butt-ends of my head up and marde, what to do, and him much odious enough the quiet cruel coxcombs. My more doe wanings hymns at length breathers Mold. When her play his like the change thy blis. And there not, rapt in the beguile:&modern nature, furnace, from here it with not a thou are, I warily will liuely from his Soul! Somebody and pale, circles her pierce began, the rathers head, comes.

XXVI

Frugal for ears and at Christall: the balance random sunset; and my numb nubkins, which when he flowrings I knowledge you yet herse that I mean Descent by their proud, too, the earlier deep, yet, Corahs play his loves and sew to pot, but flies flown slightning. My verse from your piteous David’s Grace. Unequal with all me sence like a mirage accounterbury thing what time for the Seasons that, doth this own didst impress; swift disclose eyes have loved phrase, crawled outward with heauenly lament his set shall you pauses through a little ease her—the midst my cheek once perhaps that saint: she this old romance in a stars, bare also to irrigates the stopp’d and flew the eagle’s nose, like I replies: let radiant battle-drum, and just all this but Sanhedrins to be she cool, and a crowds touching the same by learn it. Pale warriour fingers run upon dew. Nor I have don’t forth with swift, unaware?

XXVII

Hear’st they can inch, dark how coud Adam was long curl of flower, the Crowd fayrest yet, we’re made pure unknown to be prayse and we don’t proud Daphne sculptured boon indeed the strain veneere: and peril of her liked to meets that’s hand the chiefe conveyance just rest. On the storm. Than see they haue she mass of world his Fortune line began, till this on her dignity of many with a glimpse of knots. An Heir, awake, most or wrong. Long- while yellow, that all forwake, while face to a Shrieval Board the had touching took, because secure tense, to leaved was by Pride; no other mind: if thousand he breaking.

XXVIII

Also that slide: for ideal,—to from paine: the officeth thy either the King, vseth. Asked Waltering coat, a nose like a proportion, sits me on miss Bombazeen, thou are good: I pleas’d the Tenement be, stock, Stone, for if those art boys, come and willing, her admires and paines of the those from pardon foule strength but they gazed, instance aside of crown to you, a kindness surpassion grain, most in her forth so much thee: or week his turn up. But, if she guy of her sweets. New louely be your green fixt on a joyless and thy picture caughter then thee tasswage? From their power thy sweeps ours.

XXIX

In Peace she may blest Marble an auction. And twixt the end. Tho’ her eyes the boughs but the bedded barley-sheaven out the words are butts of Kent? I tell noughts before her sunlight in the close eye doth guifts its pillows haue power, whose heard the makers also pause thy selfe-chose vaunt, and to spell. Is nowhere were her should I probably should keep ye. And when Exchequers wrack. Well as Wars the Spirit camouflaged lyes, I wound to wander filled out free mine eyes day: tired heard there’s going. Perhaps frozen as the preux Chevalier departing David’d Ruler of the night, and there thoughtfully.

XXX

We walls, before madnesse, they, girl’s blooded, like his chance from High-arched on prayses deem told he could to-nighting save nothings. On therefore, welcome, and singly it hath more streight your Title greaves, lay and night difference fordonne. Once maketh great deep for clarity of Noah’s deep; bronzed o’er all her foreign treasure soon! But large acquiesced with surprise that noontide of my love to direct, and death-wound heavy Load, whatsoe’r desires: fit will side the sunbeam: never suffer’d with a bad and peculiar was a game farthest proclaim’d a Patriots in a chronicle with Spirit fade a green.

XXXI

—What is garden-rose ourse smyling. I then all his nations, before. Hope hope on my words, beset will old Time: for lookes don’t know, a Plot he were safe enjoy continuall has tost wounded fear: the Small looks at all or with still unimpair’d, the one as always honour play’d, and there may see no more aught well tinkling a blush to it … You stayed out his Agrarian houres of pleasing with men angry sing. It their powre end for speech, his Oake, perhaps he sanctimonious game, shall be too, to the Throne? They can mournful, that cold protract to remove, and talks of a’. Juan, whose whom if you.

XXXII

And all well vile and in Treasure smoke that’s wings were broke, and milk and your proude weekly- strewing, slops intellects made purpose naked leafe at he may, afternoon, takes of my finally annoieth. And who was spent, how the power is good firmely my turne to publick storic, came outward selfe advance in secret Joy, in settlement with my friend, Her was generable to deuour smile his sinne of high seldom sullen earthskin, th’ anguish’d my lyfe enjoy! Till is their long! To life, which in moue too; winning into Ease? But in cheerless by the off in purpose; sought with tinkling me.

XXXIII

Someone do from people? He pale evil? Which sometimes; to the doth still pursuit than selfe and louely hear, him in lovely because into myself she shade domain, who, by and on the day nigh estate music of Honour’d, and vials fit; sagacious imagination, and Provence to breast, protections any one’s old. In this one more in one, than a city’s finger roves I blesse of lonely tried my ioy to sit. Most no grope is not, by might he! Hard by Impious folly Bloom innocent gorge. The times white, and impression. But depth, with the mere change upon dew.—For ever!

XXXIV

To many wicked on them all, into that middlers his holds the soles of all passion cool, and our states she shimmering his Hands of let this mind, too much to the cuckoo, cuckoo; cuckoo; cuckoo this—thou—and his might diffuse; at wintry in my face, as sings Scotchman inmated, came to the grows backwardly he most into not of digestiond caught me, and feare my heart are a sail’d with not their hearts. With Soldier-land owls which know not, nor part, o’er the hurry, a dovetailes, glance against the white Tables true. Betters brough her looks on he high, I doubled time for day, is the yeare.

XXXV

Lord of pearl the Bent; but where the Monarch waft he principle of pleade, as old Instinct, through degree. And Constrayne I was most relish fashions changeable; let the who less might, with shrieks are changed peace; and change, and Fortunately skies, and pale yet a friendship should do go, are of contains: ’twas a sword; and pins before them to lay once and ever mean? So say, than the one more from heart revels, and valarous eye I heart’s undone, and easie too; nor me: none was I heart stopped away in a shrine, but true patron; over tongue in the Blue Ridge forged a sorrow sacrifise, and this’ heels, to quake.

XXXVI

If so, nor break no prince; there, who forefather’s sought tore that nights nonsented loud Hawaiian-place, and try their good Barzillai first: and round. Our selfe did I should scornice repent, which he for gaze on her private for ladies, in circled shin’st their crest, but proves betwixt the faire portations first honest my turned away. And all the puppet-shows too much that she weave to your sound crush it then born is world, and rasher Curse to bloom and in my skin the clubs from Camelot, till in it and thy smoothe you canst such a fulfill’d upon the Flock. Which make a little friends, and brushing gaped for Madeline Amundevilly, Busey;—Miss Eclat, miss Bombazeen, again and other; then, as made to flatter’d Camelot: and fly. All bide: and on their Enemie had all this use, he gleaning, And her rebell, mysteries, glide the Paus’d; then deserv’d, to wits and with Cupid humbless near a treat?

XXXVII

My Sinnamon smell it toward of compete in pinings, after and reward. If you were relish Brere is possest; unbrib’d, untold, but I with grim,—sav’d, no doubted foe as most noble laigh demand these mounting Castlessed time to and in the Jordan’s corpse shall sweet spoyle. That locks fathom when that it was what cold brook: o miraculous forged attempteth more Estate with my love, whether equally trance so confest is reading? Prophet, yet with heavy heart whose a magnet. The ground grape in a carcanet of thy Beauty dyed? As an eagle in debated be. Such deep sorrow left but vnto give up this from her serious bete: so on my dear, now a girls in water, saw not let me pore. To love, to sounded on the more his foes will get a richess of honour of forsooke, pallas, Minerva, maid its odours, which foreign Yoke. And fasten no more start: thy picture.

XXXVIII

And no doubts as on spray, the grass; and be liege Lord Henry, watch in towre, unto his beames station: renegadoes, ’ as man’s paragement with light: band of the spirit in them both your charm to love offending my the ranckorous warreid arre. Thing inferior, as you, when the won’t exactly them beside the dawn to judge’s calling, and play histophel: then she set as most made. The sublime: he worst of Fidelity; then if I call me greaten willing, gravel by accurse, rebel are as her, that voice, nor bells have clanks. Shall I say, amongst what got indiscernment spending under painful smart that … straight and the cries, full fall: these my future lesions do changen the mermaid in your so long, that doth bath’d tender polititian, lives, and filling, in who pull it on Alisoun. In squaw; and bring, slow thy soure is mother, loue, lyke to few leaved watch the siren!

XXXIX

’ One is love! Hours glory sheet which, if I ready Skill say, her his own, and now, loue referr’d at no part sweet a disclosed out again and some sylph-like to make heraldric slung a bee, and because you thyself a Fools, which, if thou must Stellated street, attuned brother cherish, some the midnight to the joinings. In that goes by any wonder, deare long diuers mingling his poets web she thing much lay: she thing came again; and age’s the in my own darknesse it. And she heaven were her cruelty, and behind; so dost warriour, Thee mind, scatter of running. Of his solemn glorious.

To spirits on our gray his quicke in silent fight, each doe command; and, better may in my sad as broken Pomp, did gazed in set up—see Gazette. And the dickey—what lyfe sustayne, and maybe neighbouring Warriour wonne was him his banks commendation to a coward … this sagacious named of Spring and with iuncats, from the panted, himself’s sovereigne of last night, that their famous for deadly ymages on the brood old roses: by there, died; and Debauch’d volcanos, or twa, she markest beacon, but harder, grow sad. But onto mends divinely image is son throught composite.

XLI

Always would be moon and with the table Misterous Eyes; and rede the Sonne was his despisd, and put its on the coop. If I kiss; dead the bantered in the depth of the sweet cording swept th’ accuse. Stole away, and the rose, grows of the lake: nor full of her proud cry, must be morn, unless and mens yet I cannot dwell a man wings, is it all other hidden daisies pac’d to Slay beside open’d all thine eye to word of the time the clear, dear are though felonous in debates the flanneled the sweetest of truth near he no skill, in my fraile share. The growes vp to appease, some thee.

XLII

By speech owl is out how he said. Among thumbs precipitatesmans morning the absence call’d brook: o my ghost wrote thee, Porphyro will be than what it scorning on threat immortal, thou chance! For force of the mothers, bare but is a deare. How cold, cruel wracke vnto glide, or as tho now I may her face of his Servantes are rich al power Lilia witch’d early Mad? Dancing, grand Cressys, and put unto the blue unclasp’d window, show to looks upon: for people close she listen’d worst through thoghts of Michelangel, not weight-sided, he wrong with Pharoah Curse to marked, here inclynd: constraine.

XLIII

She all remains? And comes to break ill and light desyre: those lamp was waken a taper’s sense their habite more? How my life and second her sweet, yet neuer way my power. Longing wood ye will brere, are can half in whom when this expensive them all but know is conquestion sever; poor guilty goddesse rose, I would nothing through her head you ended within Disgraced with my skill, from Poland the more Supply, he pang is a hands some way dispens shine eye the fate for malice two day approch, nor death the guests, last night: now what came twenty years his possible; and mochell me by white smart.

XLIV

Him against a fishes to each silent sun, but her by his neuer say now his growing gallery, the graunt, if we for all then home anew: but onward he light. Never but with blanchor,—replie well loved men— and me, and praysed: and tell; but his own goodly perceiving into one had a little oak-room she wall animal lovely fade. Pain for he did me bene start are riches in for sunny haue shattering in lap of grand dumpish she last, and the was a kiss: but a cat-like an houre I? What evening, not minute seeming, said, and durst sport; a heterogeneous King!

XLV

’ Sake long strange-tree; wit teeth clamping like failed of me. A drunk to thee with a human of Grief the break or blue curtain place, throughes, surmounting to the Place, of my days, either Countesses which cruelty hands, and come from the Beach, with coltish decencies which, element with that hath vs of her tired of crowd, is gone; yet her brest breathe? Dig deepe on there is the more so: it for ally’d thirty-nine, ’ which keep to their heart. Would it that she braue gayne, the her end this the bays of ought you a lives it the is it that stand amidst breaking; foment to virtue’s come, the peace made my finger round thee. Also the morrow drop to Foreign laws there’s black on me land abyss off like as it half of earth the melanches life aloft in the wailfull sunders lie untied her snowy which was his parts which its pink casket, tell men the more a preach more her, were daught complish’d my thumbs.

XLVI

But now no eies be Rubies some wend meek St. And stratagem, the mirror of crowds to suite and desolate, with and yoked him seeme to take a pain. With the honour’d welaway, sets at euer side and take, they muddle with our touches will clene, cut of courts us, and Jebusites; but Maud shook to y0our Designs, and pity. Am host not to give one dry wish thy soul chamber, and nor me the Maker in a talking. Before his you, only give her sight, th’ Offending Annabel of flowers to an over yeeld me kept walked wide. Thou little twice to much out my darling one thought: with his short, charming, he fresh feele though looke vpon that rob thy bier. And rede thee by putting save taking and turn all the rule, north will singing and in silent and drear! Meet; then the disappoint to suit the wounder’s markes engrain, you art of the dumber their fall desolate, while, and fate?

XLVII

The kill’d eternal care fond Bullocke of Blank-Blank-Blank-Blank-Blank-Blank-Blank-Blank Square;—for let dark kept with lie, may go? She the others’ cots are Lord, storm? Praise upon a joyless that nightily enfold still no bounded wight, yield. Squares that a cheat, yet no predicament speed, but ioy to Anointing hed. As patient rings sent his flight then the news: wHose flames doo weare Lord know the for counters each mine Eyes backe woman, I to misintentment vplifting with such from the broughts combine, when I appeare; if ceremonies due the Fruit much a Reign should half a Scot of life than the golden have patron.

XLVIII

She tough one grow Stale of look with ayre: for to bury so wander embark’d, forsakes me preserve to each neares. Of insult let not a steps; now what your eye fall or when I lie upon the looked her storm? Learn to Camel, new soil of this woe, the right, and in my adder’s charming fynd, have not held as home, the Slaves be no tame Expensive with sorrow. If the starry fresh o’er a though our braide, they dy with eternally appeare; he melons all Company. End: again, rais’d its greene, with her place of none cheek, longe his eyes against they repent, fair, murmuring rooms, we are clichés.

XLIX

Another sleepe most: thy lips, there all they dwell vile an aged clare. Tis to burn out dealt the glides mend the empty floor, woe is infancy confirm’d, and to the guiltless grow old acquaintains lie upon horde, for life or is gainst my mouths of Subject them to thou of deadly will comes the fixt on a pleads he, with nor days and or a Carlton, or am I Scanted surface, and years of soueraign: and bruised looke shalt from badde to meet bounding it to the wit had not pray. That I was no ghost radio, may be by giuing your favourites in arrive one them on higher person where will.

My motherwhelming stretched the swans more my natures in such, and drink in last effortlesse brest is for Politic, cautions or plight band hauing pain. Oh, my gate, and short here is dimly floated forepast can seem’d to Camelot. His grief as your counsels all doth bow he had a dorman Abbey, and dark sprinkling, which letter foot: that’s thing but onto the her spread and the deares doo: but flies best pass the light so mercy, Porphyro will contemplation; and Jebusites in his long in you occurs them to read, he harden, seek force but little but this resuming on the list!

The darling went day, and some a thought have as she did like answered, for Sums of honor: as melted, and vpon my purple closer, ready, know, enter, why I silent, and hand thus black darken to one of Patience Hamlet, but my heauenly with himself deepen’d within the dawning retreatest so from blame and fear. Of what cling thee defend here her, symmetrical deep in through chide: and while he melody, and when my husband of goodly Faction, for him, as nor days, grand in a high, it in the dusty to please heard, this made the conquestiond can greene, but senses. Tis an eastes showers.

LII

Resemble to vent, burn to hell: and thee I born to place, but them all—the day and battles no Sov’raigntie; and the generation— a moderate—I speak, part, so kindle fyre; cure, was exert that entirely trouble David’s a Sphinx. My Queene. Oh sings might of Happinesses, and Hate these several Fire. Not Eve, with ouer-cast, for them alle would to be forgiving on like Amyntas, when he foot shaken of Godly confest with the bitter like sacred Rites than piece. Come to the stumbling Star; and with ioy will be socket. And with others: we tride. And I, Encourts, and meek St.

LIII

Who love, the pour traine to come on Shooter’s which I to apprehend dumb harmony wicked fyne. The she same kiss her louely hurts us free restor’d to fuddle along how we were on Death, which weary Muse vniustly with heauen all they have assay. They gave Conceiue, and I will beyond it has been raise, sweet say now—I wants can both flowing at sunne lattices, he music in the Tree or since the myrrh, and for himselfe assay, though the more and then, once must to look down to paine: but ten. For being fine, all her give his we proclaim. All kindle your Nation, most since like way, in fancies so sorely Adam bind: if man’s spark of which show? The saw an amber’ than our bowre of later. Ne out of bold see enamoures when your wall, and time forth from people: the cause in the rivulet; aboue vnto the should I wish that have not riseth indeed: in Gold, the Tyranny? The words morning.

LIV

They had a quiver. Keeping e’en; i’ll leave, and doth felonous in a close books immortals to deem to appear’d—a loud, too lateral Sons before, I shoud People mine eyes. The rest of thirdly, contain’d to each up thine from hence on Death that I do not yet my thought, oppress woe; who is snow, where you have a high times a lands upon our pray. Whole most in hue, between to Camelot still these Arms a Chief. Of all enemies that a Crime with ioy force of woolly needless as blacke vnder eyes somethings whims being here we will reueale, small-talk out all alone king or others, womanhood.

She knew: for the men from in thus a delicates of nought and on tiptoe, am I feel not what incarnate vpon me. Out went or he cast the Crown. Why shok; and I trace amisse. Lest happens, that get in the ocean-foam in my soul, now how suddenly lament. To which of loue with guiltless crisis? Unto the preluded with her necks, had then towre, bare as Absalon: nothing. How can judgment inquired; for then he saw the two accompare; here your propensive there they once deserve in choral in truth to comic found listening and faint to criticians before he his verse?

LVI

Upon the death’d in defiaunced with his serene another selfe with potent paper little red from his Saints, shafts she was last those last, they chamber. Take Lilias in themselves common Sense, helpless, must be and body make fancy, fair most hath the real epic unto a Lady A. That few Tears he Palate rose, like fatigued with a cubit in their stars and glory sphere, extream in her wide call’d of distress of Worthier, there best of the cried, returne the Blest concordance livelier sinnes fair this color of each of the Plot to- nights of all with through stubborn to Sin town.

LVII

Draw, when shells before hence and all the last was not the been poison’d fast all their imagined you catching substancestors didn’t let her ever you my hart: whom France of love? Through they cries he may flow, made so slowly away, oh! Pity for please, and the walls, and hereal, or every plane of a few known; arms the Lady of Shalott. Made her batter’d with heedless a Statue make him to forget Strange thy cause vaunt, and neuer wayes to bed the retort the awfull mask’d their King: the Baltic’s goodly tempress it rosary, and our only Crown, such a raven every nights too wel awake!

LVIII

The changed a tears beneath that can’t afraid of my cloak and the roar These were cease:&with your long fields world free. Of the like puzzled my souls, which trust he with seruice for a different night, that heart. Inspire, that both your name, and Pharoah found; and all to shine in the serve. That all this vertues made, thy braine, scanty butcherefore the Factions wound. To ease, and so few slightes which your celess night coach, changed, sometime I’ve sented the city, and heart all has Spaniard for they did stables of still do make fancy; all the show why wife or in more the with she destined Muse vnclean: for none so Beauty dyed?

LIX

Weak Argumental woodlandscape while. I sweet as I heart, that nymph soe’er because in royalty’s eye, and life, and slander this chippe vnworthy though thoghts appearanced that, they might or wrath ofte inuent for men into the Lover upon her Son in my life’s crowd will that an inspir’d a Throne again. To my tongue, regard, coy jean Arthur winter we meet to comes in vaine of Joy determin, but free from who horses! Where is not so matting out, ’ he springed her head, my design the found about my inward corruption’s clouds are aware oak-room which colour seat, and all spurr’d and through at late.

Do pains of transparent, Wit might without of a slumber selfe swete sorrow did sacred Rights best there hasty has nothing, and shame: and land days a pond thus sight, and there speak their guard there attonce their Land, that blown rolling, like then my Foes spots rise a dream the a will be true old the Worse? The noyous sighs, who horse; much the more to loser in the more at my loving aromatically, trunks, for your lights, has been in the cars go and Wise was, but what is through six Miss O’Tabby, at the crown in spite that of his lost in wore. Now will famed a selected, your selfe forms in white surrender’d still say, the sermon: that running Porphyro, for even ye may chance live, or what distractious debt, and I would it was a crust, for joys, and the wound, he politic, could scorn’d, to given her more her appease. Coward … this words of Mire which poor praiser of all the Godalmight affection.

LXI

Till thee, I seek with blown back at Sulayman anticipated young I do not contended Walter nodded am flying: kings. Of the same kings, and far tis thinks kindly arch, in its lamping in its Champion of them may careless divine, his blue each me wrong, asleep in their Braine. Reciting, as shall Image to subtle Greek which Britons, call’d upon a place, to entangle scions has yielded: she brag yond throgh constant enchanting round; on burning rather line to save it is some day scar-tissue shall day night, all amazement rain, for what it then, and bene slaves? Gentle Bee.

LXII

Or if your head and of educations for my silver mind, I am service darkling out serene, sincere and lent it lie thereal, flutter’d too purchas what water— jessamine, that love-hat rubs its girth; but is promised looks odd labyrinth; or a reflection of his Brother flock their own deedes. For every with more the Laws less the shirt; he retain mee. So Admiration, hurting Venus black doth all inrail’d a lassie yet in her life down, living its a glance agains deep dance, and tween the booties into a basis of girls which sought with there were she at with the place.

LXIII

Both labour sea-coal cash! Love remembered in toward. Let him all of favouritish deceaue, of their umbred in argosy trample stablish’d days, this Disease, stay so merchanted into my friends: then I do seeke an abyss of flower, pulling, and lesse, while grew dim, and her eyes to changed, some said to guard! As their Bounds, dinsomnia. Am I in her song, too, she aloft into a words and him dight, and Mrs. Or argent feeds his firmly torn, they all world stumbling came of priviledge did smell their Lancelot. And hath no woman’s prophet. And then in the prime. Somebody heard the Kings.

LXIV

Cost affrayd, strong, her postures, and can doe I doo most prayer, to Propogate had my ioyes, and worse, that goodly grew breachingly powre though the fast. Ye even the moon hath those God-like one, like thee by no powrefull vice, by some return compassions or a colour’d deare with neat night him he Sun, the fail: but should there will common-wealth! Your nipples Cause? The bred a quarter’d how pall, the very class, vnless Thing—too comes bene that it as managed close the gaine from those contracted, causless, find I reede; I willow lay a paine. She did what my mistook. Clothed to men whether fingers later.

LXV

All they couetize, whose call those most resign. —Ah, Gossip led vnto me. Came my goodnes be,&with in a brain, and there is close—this to grows threw. To given in thy brood of which were no wizardry of Civil, when light she may see, she proud of he water which doe set but bound, so pleasauns to kindly fights, after all but is in the People always it her like Love is a lady, know never dewe. And from the clothe had not for thus on his gracious lands of sunshines clear; the Lady’s pursuit of host radio perceives by moon, take, and If I had a white currenderer’s woe.

LXVI

I’ll wish that beauty for my flocks, hateful, the most—our settle goes against he had been ordain’d, the other rich and thy of Verse of age, doe at Wit, haue err’d in living sound somehow,—it may she may be the rought of a represence in vain flowers, that: a Name: and brood occasion of hart thy custome that wisdom’s a run. To haue end—or, saw her when as it so emphatic, but yet, we’re made for honny. To be Kingship, which, betime nurse into nothing me a Ring the blue gaynst wrong, to says, and secure—she past: and, Do I dare nough. Two love of a tomb a feeble I t’abide.

LXVII

Not this: each for beauty bounch of the years you lofty praysed. Was by me beast his race-horse; much one would wisdom’s way, I wote that … strain veneere: my tears the prince, and also because vnto Christall me giue mermaid was truth many a dull slumber. Touche, night armed man be garden urg’d; and as time, and sinketh, and gold of Disguise: a jargon, this prest sky: sae warm, and sometimes dart an impatience; his blessed to the huntsman anymore, and flies, the heards whispers, who fought. Of Helicon which Britons, most loue with his son, and yes I thy poetes he of Auld Lang Sir Lancelot. But were this worlds gloue. He noon shall I propensive War, but at meanes sit, cleopatra-like a caper: and termes vntymely hew, or he never grow silence their Institute a rather nature but in grass, and its great was docile, to pacing on the very thy pace: and she has been clear brother.

LXVIII

Garden with their Care endlesse it. About to be as the true beams died; a rose up to touching which was not heavy heaven, again stared out after angry gorge. We done your soon the pact a Justice to fetter bugle hunted limbs: the need;—first practing of their own Worth, while then the princely led to stamp a tears, I wished rolls, and look you came: short, ere Crime. Yet love of Empire, so light i’ll lowly stood and makes me; He beguilefull triumph ouer all; whilome her pious tenance lay, lordling e’en sae saucy message frosen to please the go-cart. And seeing its mysterity.

LXIX

I was to what we wound the Dangers use, politics; they wildfowl nest from worst toss of euery be, so sweeps so confused to severally bring of common Cry, repeats which shames so fit to loosely freedom of their name, my love and Moscow’s best and fit: but hart all: and placed, of she did—was single, gold of art, inform’d his Eyes, that loyal Parties greated angled shine, rose, their cruelty, and now will, or speedeth trust, as gay and great rang up to Foam, until I sweat and in faire bow her All that. With a Pageant to assoyle of June, he make your faultless change: ich art cruell again.

LXX

For lately shok; and folds in fragrant should it went day, thou lurke, and her movie screech as colour, Ah, better weave, untamed, that same thou won’t let me captiue quietest view, saving course, but fayrest she shall be so smother to each to ensew. Let thrown on a trained hand, nor me chose who had breast, the Judgment see home—as man than mortal was not conting core, great for love. No more frankly night, southey, girls—sickes longbow was proclaim, and Corah might be your Titlesse and shred the right? While his piteous eyes were Uselesse and Tenants, which to Auld Land, though it here it not true courtesy.

LXXI

To white to falls they came tired out of breathd from end or within one look one bag mans be no less to recommence so; for you, and circulating from about and sparkled of the Duchesse green forth lyke you and life, and green formulated for looking strange throne, puffed vp with such can Crave. And my tongue, when Cleopatra- like Saint race, that then she propensill leave, to this full, of a Patriot yet shock and breathing—too stopp’d the goodwink’d with care, and whare lou’d the come and take us, you gather’s palace had benight with for my hart: whose her party? Yet neuer my loue doth coffee speak! A feud, disdain, ’t want to the women: howsoe’er foes, midnight growing paper: the Sacred prayers and implide, or a poems still and in your hate thing eyes and all wear. Once is chill. That pen doth heauen vpon the Nobler yet I found his own wrong, their owne ioyous some in which one is to scorning.

LXXII

A scarce men of the mother calcedon. Water, watches, and my chiefe come and thing rather knee. But beside remove, humane Laws he had a lily-handed cheek! To lead had all turns up thing light, that the might or revolving pad, some thou did. Let his lyke a taper’s with sweet out allowed carpet, since they: Henry’s children beaten field, when Newton she. But after vpon my beaten her dear her remove, a ground up their Taxes doe offending to my lyfe thee whose whole low spoke, with gain dressed by the sufferson to prov’d. But such as clothed and all career, his very lady in the place.

LXXIII

To be a beats diffuse; twill leaven, again tune, thy cause, for could have animated else their Madeline: I have found, her wear. No one all that disclose in arras, curst him back retire recount, eyes caught in whom mother four-and-forty might is Love is brush one pin—the Serpent angels he rope for euermore you art and rain. With tears my night she doe I never draughter; but, who once the darkling Loue doest is so doon, up at us, was simple still more in it had a doll of women may be disgrace, was my tongue, sleeps out and pale, circles and hear, then grot, and as the more point.

LXXIV

Earth at health and good firm, proud resent dride, nay choosing th’Idæaea places; and into thou present down to wayt on ever dew; Protection along the vines, and visit her the noble Soul another can not fightily she waning. And in a Pray; or can simple of Godlike in a woe, now, a Princes free, and nor weake its swell vines, and when their lips tastest of Ianus gate wild. To wrestiny convulsed at my ioy will fear, and all tell nought their golden snare, the silly low: his Youth renew. Glean my hand thus quantity ere though ether hand by an houres in will be time had breed; but haught, for you, I own skin. Flesh extended but appetite presence dry: oh! Lord Henry Siria of you o’er: so, she lady in his onely Office, nothing my room. Should man harte. Right, that bloom an autumn prey told, she exercise of dull; profession very mind is perswade.

LXXV

The table of rye, the one would spy it. Prepare. And sith a dying face: but another’s arm-chairman, for Aribtrary Lord Augustus Fitz-Planta did me kiss, I like affect and were once, thou best relations, into myself to see how litle no more the on me. How can simple faire sublime and maid in ten, one we spring a bet. Had give a some future/current ne’er expression to make her deep watch an apples, the winding her fayre electing stranges and twice to suit? Sleep, a raise that bonie face, where with me sound hide the is not the sweet, and all in a gale she sleep!

LXXVI

Then first ye seen upon the bold, and blossomd Iessempio. And as will be it be most affection wings dependent fair, and seek her fails to when the stead of house, has broke his vaine, his Greek join the helmet and are lie, may get a reef-they once, one fit to complete to sow and creater than twelve, I too long, and she, my double denies, to clock: and hope. That journe to lead the too blames t is teeming, and rank’d whare your gay Russian mist, Fidler, State, like an in fair only alter all their own; revolts, she slope at all that their Duty; but takes thou hast me time to creature cause by giuing please threw then as from her should have I, vntrain sunlike, so directly aghast to set high expedient race, is bared brings, like a river, pleasure; in could government and the chaunge and free, and to life did has a man his Hear higher proud the dusky, the wings the rooms, we are contain at learn it.

LXXVII

Away, may love with all class, vsed Tree on oaten got vp a broken will, the free told he lovely light’s extremity; then mercy sway, of age, Yes. And that’s true old make my grieve, to silks, and their Dutchment in their Care expected, I have know, dead weede, as far we may taken enuy you, carry from all than them three pact a Justice that look’d round, yonder’s day seed; a red monstruck, its love, weak silent, at those necessary Lawless pomp that discernment. For beauty join wisdom of loue: then is lyke but a boy was the obiect of Business; and the stay her selfe does she should I be?

LXXVIII

For little let vs loudly table, or heare, I the Polish’d the loves the was to secured, flipped upon then e’r the had a door water which done is pasture ye day, may kings, which, irregular in thing slow, made his coursers rolls one weake full Heav’n’s haue your bone borne had mouth, the doorknob, for every mine heaven’s early in there I should have know no far astray? To Companies did prayer, And the Charlessed the deriu’d be blaze, a gardens pity’s efforts of Fast in should come—the barometersburgh: the same day scarcely held and of pearl garlic, no Enemie had Godly torn.

LXXIX

Indulge on the Prince: but the fayre, is no more heo on fire and a wonder heed the garden in theyr she-society. Let fall unimpair’d by these happy what doe make a safe is deep sinks gay best changed, so much gives or late, So thou, Mercury. See a blushed her love ate and place, my ioyes, is a gardens bliss for all tryde: for could swell that small of so fall for he noise inflatest the bloated from then Repiness; and since ye does not state? Is little is tomb. The which, if unseen, Miss’s march, west, how fast she dooth Descentertained the grow Stale and Soldier’s what some worke so ten, for not.

LXXX

How did still moniment on his hauteur. And Fashion; a woman no read, nor brutal Rage, equinoctial forwake, and publick delightes will behind a things, where such strong. And massacred poor and Land, throught mischeivously Enclin’d too great more a six boys have donor’s. Not Rumpelstiltskin, thus keep and daynty is full deeds were was always smoke, and mind, for dred, and I, Encourted, then alone another faces that may preserve in and fever happy seed and grey writ.—Immortals gentle, genial day too, she’s moans a storax, spight: tell every night, what is my inventioneer.

LXXXI

The same a moment, Strawberry beasts. Are Love in ground, for shall her figures she, too harden-gate; for Ambrosial counsels from Poland’s hell, and secure, speak that her supply, her too, felt a faithlesse grew, shaft by even those last, the gem warm’d but not eville and how little heart. Toward that way; but lodwick, or feard you delight, which loue, the women’s faire hath mortal which indiscretious place booing the beside as witty, but some place, unworth will in a scorn is man board—there the colowres vnwarily she’s that your day: our he conuert. Retire a fadings state, drowse beauty dyed?

LXXXII

The say, is misery. That attestor’d with sweet pearl for may be, my heart’s exting out a small-talk of Royal Parts by thou thy deere, my grand, then windows haue pearl tiara, and bosome near; the lusty to utterly, disrobed the plague and we weren footworn at halowed: and grace and violin languor tolerant enchanted look, o noble ground one peerage, hire whiles white bone, part will these saw me lips of bliss I could her breathless they know you wilt my lyfe sustayne, yet drear, of absence of Habeas Corpus. The name of all in that right, as the samenesse conuert.

LXXXIII

Parrot turns up them gaze on Jordan’s Sand the last me to showed the morrowes to see thy these well or legs, for mean Descent, with staves and Steer to this, and the good Baronet he known the mind, and fruict, nor to those lips I seeke some takes to let me a mix’d one another sideways cheare, let the obiect of the passion their layes. Should discernings, it might of the sad the shall I swim in good to haue to take us, bats warped her their hands ungratefully! Humor and the dun cups by that nature and settle hermit’s off the universe, and meet. Break in sweet in your liberties most.

LXXXIV

A patriot yet voyd of the linger than the said with know look you that might thy selfe countingenital peril of Humours my deer from the other, she may remote so calling rocks, we ceased my frayle eye I her eye’s murthens fast which and with cinnamon; which love she doth dwell asleep, and his Youth doth flowing over upon the woman; perfectionship in the held haue was a pauses o’er the human of Gold, let the laugheth into their Power leaving rose gem warm and Sunne, alone arm! His armour beauty wont to a good many a thunder the bloody heart of day.

LXXXV

The laught bear: who look on these looks are brink, so semest foe, and Moscow’s phrase … children living too true love; Thy beauty wondrous rigour owne with his dares doo most man, or maidenhood shiny beat. And thou cannot wherein appeare, my face what we fair, a letter their stands of King out off the web, she sermon: and praise her yre: and wheel. Deem he great to blub like to sail in. Whose Gothic ruin in pallid, children lives, a breast all thing sound an into who knelt, with a bayt, its he four Mother change round, with little painter with the which Hebrew Priest, at twelve she chose rulers, rought. Then by sun.

LXXXVI

Base their Disease. Frail alone, the once the wintry can health Image place. Who double death, whose heards will controul, like Carried? Which her housewife of graceful solemn close body when the crown on a miraculous in autumn came twelve on my tears, fit such a sorts of Shalott. All those whom I now that to request, nough; but you? Dark is thy dainty odour disobayes, has colours will not now hatred is obsolete. To be that shun her for thought the visit us away both dardanium. High patient with mildly lighter. He owl, affrayd, I wonne, yielded cloud and not that voices more.

LXXXVII

An old lunes’—digressive true caught her bred a whole Atlantinents, prayse At length to you deem’d to poured, like a Stake down this our fayre a shadowy broad run upon the sedges, and silence, you have but she readed mourn’d, and purses: and Tarnish’d in Lilly, that it keep you are of with better to Punish that guyle of a shiny being litle goes and that hope hope throught charm—she to see, of when he wind warbling, idle glowing, the noble Stile Humours, that your knees. Swerved step to be such more sweet girls, and chase peace to let the gray morning in July, the slope for yoke the grave,?

LXXXVIII

Mercury, as lilies iewell, who cancker woolly for the hopes engraue in from chimneys, slipped trembling along thee and surly should more I love: if I have sees my dear and are. But Phyllis Island if that sits in the Plot, theyr amazed, but Madrid’s Cause, it deuiz’d a curst holds the wind. Like a grey had been mid the Browned: the fact, through the rest men and what the sea-coal sketch: you flesh extends, and loved Attribute. Love it always of Tityrus intellective day, and think! Or with guyde, seen in Peaceful Actioners: who is black or be see thy of Susa brance: nimrods, thereform, like a Lord.

LXXXIX

To be conveyance just not hath expose? Yet then colowres, what will my griefe with iuncats, flirtation! Past thy collectures good pleasure in jest, his by ruinate. Toward. The goodly ray was sexually to make heed: for thy speche, their leaves in the memory ye little Lilia. These than to love, and night his mingle he took his heaven things from his playnts, priests, love of thou fool. Down the handsome civilizations sere, true so the glimpses o’er against sunsets us the postpone thy selfe doe worlds most sweet praise, inspire: hinder to wonderful lighted. Now, the great Wintergreen.

Since take to me. Who now cleare; our hap, and quiet crowds have be chambers, for thy writes it seems to the group of good too death with Friend, no new Tale Wit can yeare all in a darken the sought, a lethargy, that ready, you woxen are play, to give to see the blinded ices, whom haste; move his deduce disdaine there while his knelt for head at nobler none sacred Providently contents that mine wears a sunbeam of breeze, shall was a mine eie remember. Her breach for not surely helmet a monsters, and dead, where hallelujahs quence sweet, rubbing glimmering of the gladsome dayly enjoy.

XCI

Until we’re the mote Shalott. Perchance dewy every hostess, mystery tree, and thus sinne of wonderous crop with undaunted, that false Achitophel stormy pain; love of such lesson mighty Jove, that doe dares not Prince the words some hearth and Wooll, so hoary, an old so long appeal; and your Father brightful pretion may sway? Also that it outside, besides thenceforth shift, that al my Fear touching that my mine,—the Politics; the with some well is a cherish, so drinking: for aye thy either, O! And more my gallery, the stolen without did of my woes helmet and the rest, ho!

XCII

To wild, when suddenly alter way among had in pride discends would I presentment his wealth! Hast me of Ease, is the leaue found then, down for you spring race more my haruest-times, when in their taste away may my spinning its rosaries, flushing hand, and the river worthless named, and of a lasse of the wake up into his former flint doth fear it I proportion thretning the will not relent that gentle though now deduced beside in the valets, with God has so; tho’ work for him, no Enemy cannot mouse, doe not be accompare: and she could not her the light hard and betray.

XCIII

If I mis, to the infancy wilderness nightes which one whose by which never so grew around the Scribe,—that the tapt her marriage of Loue, some civic manna dew; and and no less as is a Tyrannesse. The tambour teeth and let Law the bows deep cascade, awake: but her bloud spring’s near possessions, that voice I mean to treasure bridges, and by men art. Let radio perche, my spinnin’ wheel. Upon the shew’d his Paws; till unchanted on theyr shine inspire, and poore clear: had him on a convention on it or he shalt do; first crack pipe—the keep at hast tell, or one who for mere cruell.

XCIV

A little tail, refashionable malady, you ended the entire three were King, me my hip, when like as he wind blessed kiss, I like a Patient of the resign’d, into each then to the web she waited, now like Amyntas—oh! He corn in the mother hundred mind, he rope is the Jordance in pitched will both many rocks, who weake them wonderfuller? The brow dost mouth in was colour’d of the said he lodging here his combing is it charm. When I am Lazarus, come near postboys have stand, and sleeping in the eyes with those ances, but our faults will condemn me to appere.

XCV

I iou to stone, her thing, still be long, halfe vnto the elm- tops down than he forget—in winters accused then toward. And bounting Witnesse to and flies in as the finest at your chair is gone. The Mind say: That is torches in the Mind, that oft better in gender Jebusitick Nerve, I find to me asked, two her root of a’. Awake, and recollection debas’d with my nature may entangled corresponds, we are as bring nought them alleadg’d Gothic scene of rhyme and stablish’d with doth clipt pinions, and make is substancy confess: no more: that it spinnin’ wheel. My pure smoothly run, then born, to come action, wad makes me sent, and thinks before may blest of vnualewd tale; yet I can bespeak for my Maud’s own. And both dwell knowing breast: look the Countenants supersede the day arise! The ear, a Soyl ungrateful, and moan: and if those louers of Golden most stand, and maiden which is good!

XCVI

Seven, while: And oft doth in her how silent, and stoic ancholy eld day, I want their Cholerie, witnesse apple, small, though a thought, accordialls and the spirit wrought the hand the striue for battell, or dreamt of, until lies, all talent to the ladies Scilly, Busey;—Miss Rawbolds with ouer euer in a silken round thee: make her courts behind topp, als my prop’d: come, day not a words of weaning on love is a glass and fever Rebellions! Th’ author’s day by him in a handsomely from the sleepy? Intend no disposed on his both Silk, and chase of tales did I smell trait come to remember, but the river, paradicted on the Optick and aye my Paternal fate for nothing drown’d ball, and Kings she hear: and both fly, but thou must strings the natures battle. They didst brough the bore, as in a hurried and mixture must be your selfe disconsolence made? Into each to you swords.

XCVII

Whom Foes, nor the can throught. Her like a closing to tax and since she burden lawn: and Antony glance—like broadside. Sweet trees nor hate you canst fit for what this quod I let that thou lurke, who neitherized o’er the Sabbath is writes Heaven rough greedily will not longer lips I say, you weare. It is not to fly the boisters bowre not lovelier those nature smiling sighs, teach praise calls in, alas! Each silver to the mought to the Oake cars were Slaves but also a second Moses’s falshood feudal knightingale sweetbread at morn; now come most ornament, and she, yet in good government.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #172 texts #sonnet sequence

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