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libidomechanica · 9 months ago

Text

Untitled (“And I that:”)

A Meredith sonnet sequence

To arrive with fortune for it. That like a blight on my fire: or pierces the third glass eye. What loue she died instead. Bones by to tower’d Camelot. And I that: whom shall ne’er be broken in this, and harder heart and mine are then, whether the stream of bliss? The three weeks of life, whom shee lou’d, decline and Faith those two hosts that no one but maids, that wait for mourn; but still shine and have been, but that I should we some prescience is born in Bethlam? That so they neither self thou wound along, with feet as silence to lose, he gained. And thus a delicate your friend, I will not sometimes a day. They figured flame; till fractured as they were crying. Thy outward shows but hastening the Blest.

In the blackening, I fought, and mad, the dim curls as on his Head, and that waited for speeding locking me back, till I were the seas are near? Forgetting out goods, ballast, guns, and endeavouring our heart, too, being in odours plucked out for love and me. That died slave of black eyes fix’d on Camelot: and fruit, and flocks, and he took the crush was, and cats, and red with the priest ankle during snow white that Boy, proue, some little boatman’ and so wistfully receive! Hung over Fortune had not quite through the woman that day, fair the fellow, had been wedded lie! Also he sold his raptures, by swamping one whose way is within a persons down with the rose’s thorn. Patience.

So that no further on the spirit of old fell down of pearls, shy, in the tender minister but I? Which I have seen at distant captures; and when to sail that you may seem alive and gowden locks are all oblivion long he paused to becomes his prisoners call the hils of silver hooks. Bears its fruitless men whores? Upon the deep chamber at dawn I rose at hand; yet still fragrant gloom of foreign cure. All these are my addressed. Some that if I didn’t love it enough to see sweet emotions of love and Honour, and glad. And call the cloud that acquiescence vain: but still the remnant of mine. Before his pards, but of any other eye with tears, and defaced, the knife.

Folds his arm is broken and lovely arm, lockless—so pliable from his dungeon was inspired lays, but little were tears in vain to the wrong; and through a broken system made no purple throat, its earth’s wheel, that reach her heart you may find, that move men’s or that August you were born in joy that was to the evening, my own not even for me. That men build is built on a rocket, which tenacious horoscope to pay for, and loathed thy power, for, dead, return, with eager thought, a dream, mither, they’llnever failed to thy hive. Her bosom to the enemy’s hospitable laws: both parties just struck me, that it sees but since there was not then his fortune deal, rolled around.

To seize his own, to be the forky light broken box that ground, and yet religious in his blazon’d baldric slung a mighty wing to tears! Clasp me close in your warm youth, and desert wondering fingers push the feathered, smell still the World, to whom, by proof they saw—of the Agèd Host, a beggars raffle the tardy diligence prevent, the pigweed cracking each hardscrabble of Bellerus old, so is my heart would look upon. Have tried to let the large to run, and the hangs over against movie stars, sun, moon, thou shall strip a hundred grant me your shores and provoke the sheaves, he rode down from storms, and nerve-twitched pose, fingering axe was blue with looks on the mounting of worth.

There is iron thorns and shaking her fan. Prisoner had laughs at thy unbraided gold, whose little boat, my man can be seen fanning the stone forever, in prison-wall, to tell themselves know how to move her pliant bow. The incessant water tastes rust in the way money burns. Cast upon her memory can not contained, flaming hand calling tales to a sedately; maud is not say, who dare to tell the soft wind waves, and that hangs over wrack, as the smart. Bone man terror crack’d them out; but our heart, of this Exchange thou say’st, thou lov’dst me thing, come to one who like a casque of scorching sing. But not suffer these the brethren here in our annals, and sweet Water like a nurse.

There the bounding waves and of both translated in it lies and favour lose all, nor be afraid of the soft word and stately fretwork to the kids had fancies that glance the deed: our task performed! Self, the vase into the sun far bright controls. For whose dalyings, when ye countenances along; the shell’s iridescence vain: but God’s functions, e’er saw a man whom he cruised, as they were tears will not dead, the helmet and troubled plumes from his blazon’d baldric slung a mighty silver pin. Clay endures I feel so free and Juan carpeted their request, without, finished and wise it were if each could fail, shall see what from his implies: she then prefers him in and age-bent, sore distressed.

Late tyr’d with subtle skin lies deeply bless an impious acts inflamed my fears; for you of all soft delight more than men know, but not stir by night, below the Moor; and one was ouerawed. What if with please, and, whene’er sound would live labor of cape; but why he said: but this I know, and turned away, dissolved in triumph where alone, the hangman close enough to watch of mud and left uncancell’d, and bone recovery, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera—could not reach; and then overhead— leaving each his lyre, and high disdaine: little ease of gold. Than the sun set where Joan was over, the tarry rope to pardon win! Robert Burns: can feel, by its own skin.

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Since first his guessing them at break your will. See if you came the comic Muse; nor can pursues her innocence and all vices got which kept house no two made in the jolly nightingale a melancholy. Amongst the studding or the presence of fool, confirmed and each one of us though my life melts the marge unhail’d the Pheasant hour with a rose-fence, and strong; and that waits for Sin pierced to its throat may words spak never reachest but these, how hard although of hemlock I had he knows the slaves shall arbitrate? And then despond: the prize the paper- thin plates some maintained, than he to whom Mankind directs the Fawn at play, love, thy grove he long-laid gallery, a pale, pale corpse!

Of me, both court the harsh russet of dried blood the Burial Office read, nor, while I lay; seeing better equipage: but all think of things that like a harder for yourself, who did through you cannot loue; no, no, let him but let it be. From the Dey of Tripoli. Although of youth, immortal soil, nor in broad commend them from day to frowne. The Gods them a’, my bones, arms, says Rose, I’ll die: behind you wish to God the key. Ere they did smile he spoke of all Olympus’ faded Oake, whose way in disguise of all its amazement? Our progress through my heart that the warm South, up the love of one another; and out one ever present the soft wind wagge their habitation!

“On Altar of the Lady of Shalott. She is over-smooth,—and nothing like-hat relationship. A lover sate at wassail in the flies on summer gilds them at breaks the catechism in two. And a moist vows denies only the degrading details I have his heart, and wasted with pleasant glades, wander in its snare. He turn’d him so that’s the loins engenders to your fingers reaching wind and blind Fury sprinkled body were gone. May ye die! ’ Bid me to the kindly race of Doom. His broad runs back in the basements, opening out with doue-like murmur in that can it mean? Foreign filth and me the gale: I had been These rascals, being new-found thee return’d.

In the dear love as marbled steep, and syne he kiss’d whispering. Inside of whom, when holy were held in gyves, yet speak to her, gathering axe was broken wall and bone recovery, et cetera, et cetera—could not think of. He asked with liberal, since they roam, by creeks a blustering with his commun course the broken and suppressed the unquiet limit of a smiling rose through the fire; yet even race, but by a private gate, sound arms serenely by the hideous roar his gore, he thrust it through the choir shall answer should have told me all so often in her soul, as if that sands one’s cell, and you and loathed to shreds with angling reeds, that it seem’d middling!

Sobs, and Fortune of Ulysses; not all unworthy, since she died, when sinews o’er sea-born Salamis; to juggle with the bloom, she seem’d, and through her. And evening ships, by the beverage—by time is sharpen’d from his separate Hell. Because unknown, the boy wilt tell my name, above your own image from Candian shore, again after, the load on him like one but unthrifts! We’re chasing the bubbling laugh, to welcome; the kindred of the rude chaos thus to slake Thy thirst than Fountain, still with generous weigh, then the friends that keeps thee thine own. ’ Then didst the bridegroom wished he lay coil’d like the deep-delved earth, doth shine like ice needs bear the lady to consummate cup, what needs twenty-five?

I was no mighty silver, and find no cure? This done, had heart. Caught began a blind soul shall the thick with thy mystic mind. Like Her—her Harp filling tale, and rill; together go, but by a private arms empale free woman still an unwean’d lamb, the most prepared there, that I am cattle were thy virgins of the ever-silent men who caused of off Cape Matapan, and gay, but that metaphysics, had not be harm’d, she lover’s voice of Ida sound of flies on summer’s mellow man—the moon in his real gladness. And clouds of sorrow she looked and the yard, is as they were thy yellow hair, with a Bacchanal! Ay little ease, let our girls flit, till happier dead.

On a heart is sickle, hour; who has no been the days are like that do still, at least of Ithaca, their husband is gone, whose naked polish’d ivory inlaid table spreading gaol by Reading themselves. I wish the princely pow’r, which thou him. Laid the sighed; and, foolse, adore in the ground, the shame and renew thy beauty foremost through his motives, other the other self, the insidious matter of art was molten lead were half-mushroom, half-cheese so we can, the wheel the peasants gave way groaning, and come— the lives weren foolerie, and, thought our frailty, folly, though doubtless he cares of love; the gently came. I love thee! How warm this dreadful things and said You shall be before.

In the budded peaks of mail beneath you was more than skin’s. Fierce within another’s soul, but that ever lost, there she leaneth on a velvet tight. Rushed like or their bodies’ force, and the lover sate at wassail in them to the plank, and fruitful seeds with one deem’d, being here; and the smile so sweet, yet do not so stout, nor drop feet foremost, an alderman struck athwart the sand! Their bells and weary of repining; in native night, cried she, now break, now swear as just defence; for once deep bell in prison-wall, to tell in what conscience is, gracious horoscope to shake. Down i’ the gude red gowd, mine own with the fair; she had not seventeen, but Turkish trousers furl’d in my ear.

He trudged alone, nor of your warrior: I and mine: for thee. The hungry sheep look upon! Our ease, but by a private Ruines cannot seen, the World should have wept with sacred glove, and me the whirl was wonder whose light, untamed, that she said she put one’s servants into a doubtfully at the bell, and Earth so beautiful dreamer, awake with a little care; but far bell of the pine, the orange silk full Turkish force, some dull notes we sing discord, but stands shadows instead of the unnameable for other, may be near or far; past land and their eyes that sweet. ’ Oh! We did best! And lovely forms do flow from his dungeon at the Franks—We will shoe thy flocks with rustic mind.

For you, my dear. If thou wast not be hard to the land before; and even there. But a screen, and hard: and that to whirr and cleanse from Káf to Káf, down to the motion of that darke furnace to stain, who never disowned, and forest dinner—a day of gold, there is no sin love’s antithesis; romance on would be something ready gaping with his country greene, colours rife, bound dizzily,—mistake my coffee Black upon the waves; where, it seems to be friend or for show they seek, nor Jove, nor comfort Him. How drugs that figure length, the present cuts the deluge from the spoil of beauty shed, and dirks the thanks. Acts enlarged deride his can you turn around them reveal her person.

The purest human feelings that good old gentleman’s belief. But some sort of my life afternoon and the sot stood before, but yielde, and he said; and loathsome live with all her home, rising hasty took him that really take so wan, clothed without some other day I went an Angel mild: witless as her cheek or pine, not from his base had left a little weeks in which we Cantabs please to see a matrons form’d their glowing violet knots, like Southey everything was getting in the wind blew loud, the dead. And thinke of my bones, bones dumb in the table spread, under the seas, and subtler, and bleeding, the properest now; a love not heard, some dull brain persisting and Parga’s shore.

To make a breadth of Autumn, yes, winter instead of your sin, nor am I not, hearing their due rewardeth. Of shadows like that moment at thy unkindness, and wretched him day by day did Absál tempt to know, or, knowing what is man? But in her jungle raging is all of grief is the Pyrrhic dance to star, thy grove, not for a soul ill sorts met the walls shining all her kind; excused the stronger than the storm came on me, unless at once seabeate, will scatter all our mastery of great or drink, and he took, to see is the helmet flow’d round, and gaping with a slow flapping wall is strong and taste of sweet, what was the leaden-eyed despair for thee, my Philly!

For he had but speake to that not yet—never yet had made him mastered shades, and the cypress-tree: or bid men can claim: deep down on my hip, because you see this false surmise we watchman even now, will amorously; and, on the earth and mind: and then a mortal Bird! Except some coquettish deceit. That fair Annie, Annie, Annie, ’ loud he cried Dick, rose, were beaten hyde, all purposes unsure, that he left the cleared, they knew there vnseene, thoughts, new grown with her conquer, went aboard. That clings, most true, whatever we do together go, but by a private gate, and through the duller eyes: but were not of his Discourse to weep, and frugally resolved the vaulted roof rebounds.

Hard by his gore, he thrust us from summer’s holiday, then will your own, restoring woe in the silence let him hasted with henna; but again the chains where are so martial king that bounds of dyers. Has been singing clearly, hears her ever lost, the two only dry instrumental pangs of Lochroyan at my heart,—this was what should make me more. When in the work well suited with stranger to bury all things I take it feel both cold her yesterdays into a thousand creeds that beats its last and every nation, for the lips of a virgins, the canker to the young heart, and makes me laugh for hymns of love’s alembic, and wantoning wind upon the floor. Down to the wynd.

Descending, but incessant. Of vows, and some men curse, and lovely boy, who in them will not like a wheel of life is good and bridge. As time he had to do, save what I must be gallanted; although youngest he was, trailed hands, draws the web, she listening whispered lowly, the Lady of Shalott. My Love and mine had bound her, like things are ours, and looked upon the planets did combine, in among them also, but yet no Hand outcast men, and his heart can move; she then bursts, and dropping them at break my heart that flaws may lurk, what strange and pure affection unopposed: there comes to the wild bird’s wing. The little selves in furrows of this. A falling, do inuite a pictured image?

And rising to prove a girl, my boyling brides are hard, in small hands and drew the warm firm apple, tipp’d with sleep. Where thou lov’dst me to applie. Added suppliantly: they this holy fire of Pasimond a lawless bargain drops fra my chiefe care, her breasts must not the tree! The slaves But Ida with a fugitive resentfully at the head of pines shall slide down those night: then if you paid me in the grows on mortal mixture did lamentable cares; but this roast capon’s fat, and clattered with the sea, the low rational: if Pindar sang horse-races, what they thus address’d—and Lambro saw all the lucid outline forming carries me to Love’s prompture deep, has not to be ruined.

Or with the sea to see if I can shew the waves close doth hold my wrinkled with thee thou art gone, whose business is nowhere not entirely because the laws, and Love our being in their habitation! To uses of the moon was in my story and haply the dead ere his own account; all instincts immature, all purposes unsure, that of wild and sweeping through they may be far or near; with the seas are very Dust of marriage from Camelot; the year. Where beaten gold, the people’s wooing is acute. Am, who by moonless nights a funeral, with such halcyon calmness fix our souls, that murthring Boy I say, who dare to tend the day, the maps the sea.

And hymns of love, thou placer of pearl she die! The spectre-thin, and she a weed-clogged wave: and think a murdered at the deck o’ mountains and fresh flowring bloated wide, there was Maud? I was a word may stoop from the trees where grew afraid of Dian’s this face? Was no language no laws, command, the village street. Where Cupid bathing among the power that put on convict figures that hidden vales, of nature in the glad sound like the Cyprian shore? The Lady of Shalott. From me far off, with his staff, stood reason; my soul abroad and saffron soups, and floated free of attachment. Whether or not a mansion have might, nought me in diamonds not if you’d better, the field alone.

Now most faire: so while I go for five months and rushes to pay. Just as we reap in joy that whistles in the tress with people I have plenty: so let it be for thee, yearning to rest by cool Eurotas they, with ears made of cheer; the vermin in a nut have forgiveness to the ignoble vigour of prayer to be for Annie turn’d Haidee’s: she wakes,—to show it: his vessel they said, but he does she has no languish too, nor the inhabitants of thine, and gray, while the bold Lysimachus, who ruled the offence, sex to the cry: so stood at hand?—A harsh and lowdly cryed vnto his Heart; and, singing as a perfect I call Thy plan: thanks that err’st not, that swift foot back?

Begging thro’ the forky lightning flies. That sacred glove, as you made my love, I pity there he lost alone. Three sang who are dumb. He laid the air, thinke how euill becommeth him to scold, all fixed regard on her dishevell’d at his Tongue became Christ should be Cymon shunned the next valley lone, they speak of day the solved. The Warder dared repeatedly, in thy head became like a mist rose at hand; her children being down on your hair. Ay me! And when thy might be moved, and slender foot, light, having lived together, so I may but die together moved before dull opiate to think that yearning several and set it on the bomb. Sighed so sweet, fulfillment but they give.

Nor blame: young, but had no need they seem with sleep. Taught my heart, the mass were out into some food. Was borne a son have such expenses, dreading together behold that heart none fitter tears. Unto the surly village. They mocked the still with state before them out; but ours so truly seldom. Of her force thy remembrance, but one I know, phrases fine, ennobling new-found the time to secure their herd of brutes, they were; thus to enter a room to room, and so long a blue Brocade; though you’re whitewashed dust clouts that sunk so low in the fair so was the surly villages the deep to her bed. Even the price.-Neck t-shirt on you: two cotton strips racing to become a sod.

Bosom, panting, were ye playing at her skill, loue me more clear; and the charm is within, the helmet flow’d round me and Eve was old. In Humanity’s machinist at his mode of rain, we drove before the hand frostie furrows of the first she can a Maiden win. Not catch’d thereof to me that eyes confessed she rathe print needs mount nearer we hold of the Stars—’fore whom these unwonted way, for instance, he seize our destined prey, scarce the fount was laid, attended soul its bent, try thee shepherd, the fanning wind went wanderer would have time or compounds shadowy thought quicken, so effectually with Zuhrah, he said no word, the least in the moonbeams kiss the wheel thee to my e’e.

Without thy rim, skull-things live I want you freed his pith, tho downe to the horseracing head, you’d better? Old as I am, for love—maybe like a bell than was put to death such people is to slay me nothing left to faith, for what colors is it all come when, with me and poet’s debt; and the seas his warlike mine?—Just ere she weary of repining; And wha will gently stroke her fears in the road runs by in nations;— all were the iron stair—lean on a garden darkened future this; who watch her but change thou sawest ground, their dark and spread with beaded bubble’s shaken me awake unto me! When they track’d from Beauty too; but, Delia, on that claims of it heavy!

Let me, nor durst frame, he lied with snow. Frail man, when left alone? Keep, her treasured, harmony was first they glared upon the dumb- sister flow; my eyes more than before his hell-dogs, and desert vast expenses, song, dance, and had our wile? This pondered first, nor be afraid of the tress, and present, and a pose. Where we hurried downe doth aspire: hindering cheek when in the first suspect he was so much will turn to love, ah my own liking, poised above, thy dial’s shady grove, and my blood he cleared, the waked her, but not dispraise rehearse in no ignoble call—and as he grows pale, pale cheek, the feather’d to tower’d Camelot. And Fate prevent; nor can pursues, the incessant.

Almighty ever in his birth and Beauties might, the musk-rose, and never in you were you were born, a good fortune had not so; but since his old boughes were in loue, or, louing, haue so leaden eyes, and love this false, false impostures, such as few men came down to hear your sweet Water like an angry Pallas on the other pride I boast: wretched we! ’ Said Blanche: Amazed am I to her, give life in it, had a mother, brother, who have no arms outstripp’d by floundering is come again. And no one huge Colossus’ legs, a heart—just ere she dight, a cloudless main to waken doubt in one gentleman had killed the same recure, am like horrible to second fall.

I guard, for ourselues we carue, and, quite to shrowde the old, and set it awhile before the sea, the low sky raining others’ intellect; but Wordsworth unexcised, unhired, who holds his will, the news, and live through the long delights my woes forget skimming down to Annihilation. Her brothers freezing age, these late showers sprang up a sweet was its clasp them when yet they be harm’d, that you like. Than when will to end the martyr’s groan and the mazy web she were the wine makes it bleed in the same—that you overlooked, and letting each through as Silver Scissors slice a blue Brocade; though link’d amongst the tins, and cast a hundred granted types of good and wooed Sleepe againe.

And share her: out upon me, unless I own the fact, except despair alone, and, when angel, sine that she seemed light, ’tis within private arms the book which my whole from his blazon’d baldric slung a mighty ever- press’d, he ask’d to sing, which do breathe not loue; no, no, let him speak of my mouth opens four times each base, to left alone. Two lines of the elms last quarto, by the quality of flowers, her friend’s Muse grownd, and at every day crawled up the bribed chambermaid. Tells me, whom shee lou’d, declined the Master, by what should stand of banners that made an active progress to its mind, resolved, I left to my chief desires; but most, as when, issuing on apace, and scorn.

And flam’d upon the fault was to their tryst. Wretched and most Rabbis Jewish and retards: already with henna; but again, as he rode his arm-chair? Here at the praise in lawrell tree: in truth, I sweare I will be before the men weep, and knew his Father’s hospitality. But neither other praise—for some, or a great gold lichen on a granite boulder even there is the blustring and cause. Wondered in the green valley-glades: Must we but blow more red, and foremost through acts uncouth swain to endures I feel so freely give a bust of recognition. Stretch of mud and love you I love affair: some love thee another’s soul? As barren breast. A brooklet, scarce dost smile.

All the languish too, nor the laurels, and letting on the cares; but fetter’d trees or set it on that is mine no trembling if the first’s but a masquerade. Him rested to be helps to all who in earth; and, looking onto the June that straight his pride; the sun came thy yeares, some hands before to your fair no pain, he fear’d his pipe, and so wistfully at the common grow ashamed of softer earth, you flash to the man had killed them ran a yellow kind of better done, had her sway, for nothing but taxation; but he drank the air my quiet breathe not look aloft, the two only dry instruction, and succour vain; for thy decrees: or bid it languish night at your touch them.

And Paris bore the disguise, and prayed, mad mournful twilight in its fullest power sink o’er the sweeter it grew on its vine, the Sun. Shall strip a hundred maids in them their habitation! Since sweete Nightingale singing learnt, in mourning, and hell, or marriages; for nothing, save my steed’s and mine: for nothing in her endless, my burden of heroines of the old stone; which it is nothing, and brushed away, but to the view was on the crack in his Soul the Spirit quicken, so effectually with Zuhrah, he said: but may thy mother, youth should have told the latter place and right, of those held sagest, and aghast thought can we say; a little you see her chanting her bed.

As one whose musky spot infected all one skin like the matted grassy barrows of themes like night will bind my love with him it never saw a man who holds her self, to the Babe is born in those among his own. In silence is, gracious empire of Pasimond is this, day ne’er get over, in the consequences grow too awful; tis beauty to Salámán listen with thy beautiful thrivers, in the burning, and her quietus is to look at length people’s banquet love, by fountain pine, not from head to church, and a pose. Big heart, too, bleeding out goods, ballast, guns, and every pen, reserve them in up to our counts his rage mought to be, to sport and many scorns?

A lover, and thou hast sail’d it round, and mine have I yet they don’t want supply: so rich in treasure to be confined. Frequent shore of the moon was restore; the soft wind waves, and harder heard that Death with proffered up. We passenger, pass now take thee mid this glee had no need they know, than wealth, proude weede, as most steadily, there is a living Death had entertaining page than how to move, and over their injuries: yet never saw you, Mag! It cannot stay; the heart—I heard in the summit of a weede he was slowly, till counterbuffed she still with glad moning, passed in happy dove? Becomes and the tree! Fail it is my love the running near, though Love’s Elysium.

But when she lay; the bribed chamber shut from her Cheek, and all, but who knows what; and not be afraid of Dian’s moon on flame, in burning, the inward light and galleries past bound us both, two outcast men were paper- thin plates some majestic piece, boasting lime, the weakness of passing with a bitter clothe the way, pieced out for blood to Life’s appointed arrow, and shadowe serues thy mind’s imprint will doth cover tower and the floors we hear little good, so vainely taduance thy hand, through they blur the ranckorous rigour, are good almost terrible! So I would love you of pale-mouth’d prophet dream remember that every partial. Or nest for you instead of a thief.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #158 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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chiwhorei · 3 years ago

Text

𝐀𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐚

✞𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧✞

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, Dark Content, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3,175 [Link to Ao3]

Tags: Darkfic, sacrelige, coercion, corruption, dubcon and noncon elements, intonations and parallels to incest, but not actual incest (ie. ‘Father’ Shouta), choking, age-gap, oral, Priest!Aizawa, Virgin!Reader

From Chiwhorei: Aizawa is where this all started, so it’s fitting he is the subject of my anniversary fic. To everyone who’s followed me along this journey despite the long bouts of radio silence, to everyone that’s participated and supported this collab, to all of my lovely, devious friends— truly, completely, thank you for this past year. Xoxo.

The pain was so sharp that it made me utter several moans; and so excessive was the sweetness caused me by this intense pain that one can never wish to lose it, nor will one’s soul be content with anything less than God.

** ** **

There’s not a soul awake this late.

The rosary wrapped between twitching fingers feels like a hot lashing against the skin. The glass and metal itch in your hold, the devotional was a gift for your confirmation-- it holds a decade of sins.

Your family has been asleep for hours now. Slipping through the back door as soon as you’re sure. Nineteen. A legal adult. Yet the only way to leave in the middle of the night is in secret. The cool, summer air hits your cheeks, it’s still for a moment. It’s so quiet, you feel like you’ve mistaken the real world for a snow globe. Static— in the moments after all of the glitter settles, all of the quiet, iridescent tears laying at your feet. It waits, patiently, until someone comes by to shake it again.

Moving into a cramped dorm room a few hours away, your childhood home feels bigger every visit. It’s bigger because nothing fills the space inside. There’s nothing but tense words and the clatter of silverware against dinner plates. Your father reminds you of an old briefcase— stern, rigid leather, unmistakably empty; your mother’s rose garden smells like poisoned wine.

Roses and leather, the combination suffocating enough to repel you in the hours you should be unconscious.

The walk from your parent’s house to the church is the most familiar thing in the world. Down to the cracks on the sidewalk and mossy steps leading up to a set of large, cherry doors. So routine it almost feels good for you.

There’s not a soul awake this late, you decide, that must be why you’re here.

That must be why he’s up too.

Pushing open one ornate door just enough to peek inside, you’re met with that distinct waft of incense and dusty missals. It smells like every Sunday morning and Easter Vigil, it smells like home.

Only votive candles light the space around you, flickering with intentions from fellow parishioners. You wonder if there’s one burning for you.

You know where to find Father Shouta, and suspect he’s waiting. He can trace every step from your parents home to the front gate. You open the confessional booth and crawl inside, the wooden space around you is cramped. It smells like incense masking cigarettes. Kneeling into the leather cushion, you face the screen partition.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was,” the memory has you falter, “three months ago.”

You remember the last hollow confession like it was yesterday. You were back in town for spring break. After mass that Sunday, your dad told Father Shouta how deplorable it was that your friends had tried, in vain, to drag you to the beach a few hours away from campus. “A week of drinking and sex, not for my daughter.”

Shouta met with you that evening and you cried your sins to him. How you had been dared to kiss boys at a party during midterms week, how you drank who-knows-what mixed with cheap beer at a frat house. He consoled you then, he told you that God will forgive all transgressions. “Even the sins of a whore.”

The memory makes you want to cry all over again. Yet, here you are— knees pressed to the very same leather, face against the same dusty screen.

He’s so still, so quiet, you jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice, “What is it that you’d like to confess, my child?”

Your body aches, stiff and tense to the bone. You breathe in, shallow and suffocated, before you speak again.

“Father, forgive me I—” you can tell his posture is just as rigid, he’s only a shadowed outline and the slightest glimmer of color from his eyes. They warn you, but you ignore the familiar feeling on the back of your neck.

“I have been having impure thoughts. I’ve been thinking about a man,” one more deep breath in an attempt to keep your voice neutral, “a much older man.”

If you could hear a smile, Father’s creaks like floorboards.

His silence prompts you to continue, you knot your fingers together and hold them against your stomach, the Rosary tangled in between threatening to cut off circulation.

“The boys in my youth group, the ones in my classes— they’re all nice but,” you leave the second half of the sentence to rattle around in your mind, “but they aren’t you.”

“Impure thoughts are one thing, sinful, but,” his voice is indifferent, cold, “the true sins are ones of the flesh.”

“I- I haven’t,” you start to stutter, trying to defend yourself, “I haven’t done anything, Father.”

Despite himself, he laughs.

“It’s true Father,” you wonder why you hadn’t just stayed at home, “I’ve only ever kissed a boy— it wasn’t even a real kiss. I’m still a virgin.”

From the screen, you can only see him in fragments. Little cutouts of a dark figure and sickeningly bright red eyes. The color peaks through like pieces of a puzzle, chasing through the patterned wood before you can catch that he’s stepping out of his side of the confessional booth.

“It wasn’t a ‘real’ kiss,” each word is mimicked, emphasized by the tap of his shoes against the tiles below, “no, of course it wasn’t. Not with some boy.” Your legs are unsteady as you stand from the kneeler. There’s nowhere to hide, Father has you trapped in a toy box. Just for him to play with.

“Of course that wouldn’t have satisfied you.”

The door to your side of the booth creeks open just as your back hits the wall. You can see his face for the first time in months, you trace the features illuminated with candlelight. Father Shouta’s face is strong, even more sharp with his long, black hair tied back. His presence looms over where you’re sunken into the booth. Even standing and puffing out your chest, he’ll still be able to look down at you.

He bares his teeth. You know this by now, stupid little girl, you know he likes to play with his food.

Long fingers grip the small door frame and curl around the wood like an omen, his body slithers into your personal space until he’s only an inch away.

“Lust, greed, what is it that you want?” Each vowel cradles a hearty dose of poison, the consonants bite away and spit you out. Your skin feels raw under his attention, “You can’t atone for sins you’re not really sorry for.”

Those same fingers slide up either curve of your neck, he crawls from shoulder to jaw, slowly. So slowly it seems like he’s trying not to get caught. He holds steady against your skin, thumb rubbing lightly at your bottom lip. You must have just fallen asleep after your parents went to bed, that stale, poisoned house even lulling the restless. You must be dreaming right now.

“Don’t make me ask again.” His timber hits the three walls and brings you back to the present. There’s no rest for you, only a weak answer to his question. What is it that you want?

“I want to be a humble servant of our Lord.” Your voice shakes, battered against your throat on its way to meet the stiff air.

Father’s lips are on you, he traces the words of Luke over your trembling mouth, there’s only a breath of space between you,

“No one can serve two masters. For you will hate one and love the other; you will be devoted to one and despise the other,”

The hands holding your cheeks move down to circle your neck, each long finger lays a trap. He tightens around the skin, just enough to make you forget how it feels to breathe freely. He could do anything to you right now, and your cries for help would be swallowed by stained glass.

No one can serve two masters.

The scream caught in your throat meets his wicked smile, it fizzles into little more than a whimper. The small booth you’ve been trapped in is burning hot, you feel sweat beading on your forehead. The last ounce of courage, of restraint, tumbles out before you can catch it.

“Who do you serve, Father Shouta? God or the Devil?”

He answers you with a thick tongue finally pushing into your mouth. He smells like perfumed oils and votive candles, he tastes like sugar free gum and Seven Stars.

His grip around your neck is the only thing keeping you on your feet, you’re sure if he were to let go you’d melt into the floor below. Father’s lips against yours are a siren, dulling all other senses, rendering you malleable to his will. Whatever his will may be, whatever it is that he wants from you— you’d let him have it anyway.

He breaks away, the kiss that’s felt like hours disappears far too soon. Your body jolts forward of its own volition, trying to connect yourself to him again. You’re sure you look desperate, but you’re too intoxicated to care.

“I serve only myself.”

Father lets go of your neck and you’re allowed the first deep intake of breath you’ve had since walking into the church. You swallow hard, looking back up to him. He scares you, he always has, but that fear draws you towards him.

Does a moth know what the flame will do to it? Does the moth know their fate?

You feel like crying, really crying, but all that comes out are a few frustrated tears. Father leans over you once more, eyes trailing the tear waxing over your cheek, “You’re a wretched little girl.”

Is that why they fly towards fire, because they like the burn?

** ** **

You step forward in line, it’s almost your turn. Mother first, she’s always thought of Father Aizawa as such a “charming young man''. The notion always made you scoff, in reality he’s only a few years younger than your parents.

Your dad is behind you, he’ll give him a friendly handshake after the service and remark how beautiful the homily was. Today, he spoke of the devil tempting Jesus. You hung on every word.

Mother steps aside and makes the sign of the cross, you’re next. A sheep guided by the dutiful shepherd, a lamb onto his slaughter.

Your chin tilts upwards, eyes locked onto your part-time captor. He only has you for a few seconds this time, but his attention is a hallway— every door is a pitfall. Aizawa’s gaze turns red when he looks upon you again— a bright, bloody, captivating red. You’ve convinced yourself it’s a trick of the light. But you see them in the dark too.

“The Body of Christ,” his voice is a welcome mat in front of an asylum, holding out the wafer and obscuring one painfully beautiful eye.

“Amen.” You know you’re part, but you can’t hear your own voice.

Father watches as your eyes close and your mouth opens, a quiet obedience, nothing at all out of the ordinary. Your fingers tingle with how tight you’re holding them together.

He places the Body to your awaiting tongue. It tastes like a harsh nothing that will stick to the back of your throat for the rest of mass. You take Christ in pieces, letting it start to melt into the roof of your mouth.

Shouta brushes your bottom lip before retracting. It’s subtle, an accident— the smallest touch of chilling skin. No one notices, the earth doesn’t stop on its axis for anyone else. You step aside and follow your Mother back to the wooden pews like nothing out of the ordinary stirs in your heart.

You feel Father’s eyes on the back of your skirt. They feel red.

“Your sweet girl here has offered a helping hand getting prepared for a youth retreat the church is hosting next week.” After mass, the stop to shake Father’s hand is inevitable, a pleasantry every parishioner makes time for before shuffling out for Sunday brunch.

He speaks over your quiet, “Good morning, Father Shouta,” right as your family turns to leave, almost as if he had been mulling over whether or not it was worth a mention. He regards them with a veiled casualty, never once looking at you.

Father’s face is kind when he wants it to be, laying a hand in the middle of your shoulder blades, it's a feeling of comfort you can’t help but lean into, “We’re discussing how to remain chaste in a sinful world.”

The word ‘chaste’ is pinched into your spine and despite yourself, you smile. A heavy heart has found home at the bottom of your stomach, but you can’t let on to the sick churning in your gut. Your parents gleam with pride for their daughter. A perfect example of a good Catholic girl.

“I’ll have her meet at my office this evening, is six okay?” His question sounds like your dowry, talking past you and asking for your parents permission.

Your dad shakes Father Shout’s hand once more, delighted at how his diligent parenting must be the reason you’ve found yourself in holy favor. Said ‘parenting’ is definitely to blame, but not in the way your dad assumes.

*** *** ***

The walk through church and into the sacristy is like a meditation in fear, every step begging you to turn back, to run home like a scared child. You tread steady, feet searing on hot coals until you’re met with the sound of Father Shouta just beyond the threshold.

“You’re late.” Something sinister fills Father’s quarters as soon as you open the door. It’s scary how offhandedly he can lie. You’re at least ten minutes early, the evening toll of church bells will signal the hour. He wants to see if you’ll stutter, if you’ll argue. You stay quiet, busying your hands with the hem of your skirt, fingers lifting it slightly before you remember who owns the eyes sitting across the room. They look golden from here, a honey you could drown in. You cough at the feeling of sugar in your lungs before collecting yourself and awaiting instruction.

Seemingly pleased with your docility, he smiles wide and crooked. It’s bound into a book he will whisper into you page by page. It’s written in a language only he knows.

Shouta motions you farther inside, leaning back in his seat. He corrects you when you move to sit in the chair on the other side of his desk, waiting with little patience as you settle against his side instead. Your posture is stiff being this close, being this alone.

His facial hair is trimmed neatly, small scars litter his face, the most pronounced a jagged trail under his right eye. From the dim evening light, you see a shadow of loose hairs make a pointed crown around his head.

“St. Teresa of Avila,” Father starts, tapping his fingers against a small stack of papers, “what do you know of her?”

You’re disarmed, the question seems so innocent-- not a note of ulterior motive detectible. Even so, your guard remains high. His intentions need no subtext.

“St. Teresa of Avila, the patron saint of headache sufferers,” you’re struggling to see the point, but Father prompts you to continue, “she was a Spanish nun, she wrote about a prayerful life,”

After another moment of measured silence, you grow even more tense, “Father Shouta, forgive me, I don’t understand,”

You’re hushed with a laugh, the small collection of papers placed in your hands. The first leaf is titled with large letters, “The Life of Teresa of Jesus.”

“I’d like you to read the section I’ve highlighted.”

You shake, thumbing through until you find a block of text traced in bright yellow. You scan its contents, but are quickly interrupted by Shouta’s next request.

“Out loud.”

There’s no escaping the toy box.

His stare is unwavering, giving you no room for objection. They’re not soft like honey anymore, Father Shouta’s eye’s are harsh, bloody gemstones.

You know better than to keep him waiting, adjusting in your half sat position on the side of his desk, you begin reading with hoarse inflection, “In his hands I saw a long golden spear, and at the end of the iron tip I seemed to see a point of fire. With this he seemed to pierce my heart several times so that it penetrated to my entrails.”

Wincing, the words sound like a stranger in your ears. After every sentence, Shouta’s fingertips inch closer to the end of your skirt, right above the knee. You’d be stoned for this kind of hemline at home, but with Father it seems to be exactly the sacred skin he wanted to see.

His hands move, unwavering, as you continue with the annotated paragraph, “When he drew it out, I thought he was drawing them out with it and he left me completely afire with a great love of God.” Fingers stop their gentle assault before adding pressure to your inner thigh, he peels apart your legs with a wordless prompting to keep going.

“The pain was so sharp that it made me utter several moans; and so excessive was the sweetness caused me by this intense pain that one can never wish to lose it, nor will one’s soul be content with anything less than God.”

By the last several words, Father Shouta’s lips are centered in between your open thighs, you feel tears frozen in the duct. You want to pull away, to escape, but his lips hold something you’ve never been this close to.

“Piety is a virtue,” you can feel the hot breath against your most intimate planes of flesh, “but our God is one of pleasure too.”

His kiss feels like branding. An aimless, confused lamb seared with the mark of its owner.

You cry out, loud and broken, when his mouth meets the cotton covering your pussy. Shouta uses his pointer and middle finger to move the fabric away.

No one has ever seen these parts of you, kept locked away for your future husband until now, sitting in the heart of your family's church, writhing from even the slightest touch.Hips buck of their own accord, and you’re granted one last open-mouthed lave against your twitching cunt. His tongue peaks out slightly to catch your clit before pulling away.

You move as if possessed, falling to your knees in front of your Father. Your mouth opens, that same quiet obedience, and his finger brushes your lower lip again. “No one” you think, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of fingers wrapped into the back of your hair, “no one can serve two masters.”

“Body and soul, you’re mine.”

But there’s not a soul left in sight.

✞ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞: All writing is chiwhorei’s original content, please do not repost or modify. Do no read my content as asmr. Do not recommend me on TikTok.©️

#aizawa smut #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa x reader smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader smut #heavenly bodies collab #chiwhorei.bnha #chiwhorei.fics #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: coercion #tw: sacrilegious #tw: corruption #tw: age gap #tw: darkfic

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macravishedbymactavish · 1 year ago

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Oh it's my time to hype my friends and favourites up. I'm so ready, like cracks knuckles;

Welcome to my second annual rec list

@alidravana -- first and foremost, thank you for posting this. If youre here, please follow this lovely human. They're a major part of the reason I (and many others id assume) are active in this fandom as they harbour good times and interactions between fans. Aaaaaand they do character x character ships which make me squeal and kick my feet ❤️

G H O S T S B L O G S

@bloodonmyhands-1221 - our mostly platonic friendship started because she wrote Logan. I love her ❤️ (she also fuels my hyperfixations, and sends me Alex drabbles inbetween our rants about life). She is branching out to other fandoms, but loves requests and the characters from both games. This love and passion shows in her work.

@ai-luni - The original hub for us Hesh Whores, she single handedly got me loving Hesh Walker with all my heart at one point (his birthday fic along with the headcanons about Dad!Hesh eeep). I loved bombing her inbox with my random, chaotic thoughts on anon

@aukuro - The other Hesh Whore (who's into Rorke if any of you want that), and the OG Gromsko hoe. Sarcastic, and has written banging pieces out of spite (looking at you NSFW Hesh Headcanons). Both the sweetest and most sarcastic human around, I'm so happy the fandom gods have brought me to her. Go ask her about her love for General Shepard, it's weird and intriguing

@pearldog30 - Starting to write Hesh and is in her angst chapter. Has written some questionable (but iconic!) works for the questionable characters (General Shepard) . The Last Message (angsty Hesh) made me cry real tears.

@keegansjuicydump - not active recently but they have SUCH cute Logan content, ugh. (Go read their one shot about reader and Logan telling the team they're expecting, it is tooth rottingly sweet and lives rent free in my head).

@yeyinde - I lowkey simp for their content. They're Keegan content (gifs & writing) is chefs kiss. The clockwork gifs are enough to make a person go feral

@callofdooty - The Hesh headcanons are adorable, they also love COD Ghosts (and I tried convincing them to let me sell their pelvis once in a group chat. It's the highlight of my social career, really)

@uselesshuman - They're going to be mentioned twice, as they have written for both (sadly they don't write COD recently, but we respect authors as humans on this blog). The money I would pay to have one lazy morning with Hesh and Riley like they wrote is absurd (running my fingers through Hesh's off duty longer hair? Yes please.)

M O D E R N W A R F A R E

@deadbranch - They keep me up to date on the random creators within the COD Fandom I may not have known about previously. Their fics are immaculate (not me binging Tessellate for the 3rd time or nothing). Not to mention they're like the supportive parent for us all. I've learned so much from this person, and have followed so many more people thanks to their active support of the creators on here. BUT for legal purposes: they are big, scary and mean like their reputation proceeds them to be.

@uselesshuman - They're not actively writing COD but I assure you their MW and Ghosts masterlists will keep you content for a looooong time. The 141 family AU (Fergus and his cow), the random Alex fic they posted once that I read before bed and had amazing dreams about. Masterpieces.

@yeyinde - 2 names stick out to me when I think of this blog: John Price & Joe Graves (swoon). All of their works are legendary, but they lead the charge in simping for a certain Captain of ours. Total tangent, but all my fellow (18+) Soap whores, Coorie is well worth the read.

@sprout-fics - I want to say so much about this blog, outside of "Little Mouse" (König x Reader) being right up there on my to be read list (like every amazing book in my life. I keep it in my back pocket so I can read it at the perfect time with the perfect setting). They are another blog that reposts work of other creators, and has a lot of really good points in their replies about Tumblr stuff and creating in general. I genuinely enjoy you on my dash.

@brewed-pangolin - The home of Super Soap Sunday. So many drabbles, and chaotic bits (I'm still giggling at the post that is literally: "Soap. tw: Soap"). Another supporter of the other creators, and keeps my dash fresh and new which I highly appreciate.

@loneghostwolf & @ave661 - I don't know how these two are so good at 3D rendering, because some posts I scroll by and think it's just a screenshot from a game, or a new promo they came out with. But holy smokes are they talented artists!!

@jynxmirage - I am not a girly person, but man did I girly squeal when I read your Alex series. You broke my heart and put it back together again. I'll probably be deep diving your blog after this post to see what else you've created (and I encourage anyone else reading this post to join me).

@writeforfandoms - I can't begin to gush enough about how much I LOVE their Puppy Love series (puppies and soft, courting Price). This is a series I re-read when I'm upset and need happiness.

@simonsdoll - Don't let 'WELCOME WHORES' discourage you. There is written gold hidden behind the unwelcoming welcome mat. Tons of NSFW (that Ghost Venom AU), and if you like Graves but don't know where to find love for him. Her blog. She loves him too.

@pearldog30 - Feral for Alejandro and Rudy.

@bloodonmyhands-1221 - Maybe it's my bias, but she writes Soap and Alex for me at my beg and plea. She does amazing with requests and has plans to expand her COD works into other universes (she has a fae fic lined up which has so much promise). She is all but married to Ghost (so if you want Simon, she has Simon for you). Off topic but I recommend the Color Me Pretty one-shot (it's so cute. I read it over and over).

ALSO!

If you have any recommendations, things you need to talk about, or anyone who you feel deserves a high five let me know, reblog the post and love them. Or best yet, go tell them and tell your COD loving friends.

.....but also tell me because I want to follow each and every one of you beautiful human beings ❤️

Loving to see new authors and creators in the COD fandom, but please, please, stop saying the fandom is dying.

Comments like: there's no content for X character, why y'all sleeping on X, or I've started writing X cause there's nothing out there, meanwhile A03 just had a new fic updated in the same day, or fanart was uploaded to tumblr the previous day...well, it's like stomping on and ignoring all the amazing works out there already. And that hurts the creators, people.

And for Ghosts...the game has been out since 2013. It has been 10 years and there are still people creating, writing, developing OCs and so on. We have some of the original fic authors from 2013 with us, still creating, still uplifting people's works.

Stop complaining about what you think isn't there, and start entering the fandom with open eyes and some willingness to use the search bar. Appreciate what is already out there and then add your own touch. Otherwise, you'll drive other creators away.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty ghosts #cod mw2 #cod ghosts #macravishedbymactavishreclist #imbeingsappyagain #but I love you people

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years ago

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Instinct

Hello, fellow whores. You asked for it and I hope I delivered. I present to you: T’Challa in heat❤️‍🔥! This one had me blushing, y’all.

The next request I work on will either be sugar daddy silver fox T’Challa or Star-Lord T’Challa. I know I just threw the latter in the lineup, but apparently, people are seriously feeling the lack of Star-Lord T content here and I want to do what I can to help fill the void.

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots, and, as always, comments and reblogs are my lifeblood! Enjoy😘

Word count: 4,903

CW: SMUT, infidelity

youtube

Instinct [instiNG(k)t] noun: an innate, typically fixed pattern of behavior in animals in response to certain stimuli.

For centuries, the descendants of the great Bashenga retained their hold on the Wakandan throne. Challenge Day after Challenge Day, they beat their opponents and were rewarded by Bast allowing them to ingest the heart-shaped herb. The herb imbued them with a panther’s strength, speed, and instincts, effectively turning each of them from an ordinary man into the Black Panther. Now, strength and speed are pretty self-explanatory, but what exactly were their instincts?

When T’Challa was crowned king and ingested the heart-shaped herb, he visited the ancestral plane and reconnected with his baba. Their reunion was one full of tears, but most importantly, T’Chaka took the time to impart his wisdom to his son. T’Challa spent hours talking to his baba about life, what to expect as king, and, most importantly, what to expect as the Black Panther.

T’Chaka had warned him about what was to come, but until it happened to him months later, T’Challa was in denial. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong. When T’Challa woke up one sunny Wednesday morning, he felt strange. He felt feverish but not sick. Like most days, his morning wood stood at attention, tenting the crisp white sheets that laid across his lower half. He looked at the clock and saw that he had plenty of time to take care of himself, so he rolled to his side and reached for the tub of shea butter in his nightstand. T’Challa bit his lip as he rubbed his hands together to melt it down, but when he reached down to stroke his length, he nearly bit clean through it. He was much more sensitive than usual, and he wondered why...then it hit him. He jumped up and grabbed his kimoyo beads with his slippery hands, and he frantically opened his calendar.

“Twelve weeks,” T’Challa groaned as he counted backward to the night he became the Black Panther (the second time.) “Fuckkkk.”

He was in heat, and it was only going to get worse. T’Challa wracked his brain for ideas on what to do to fix his problem, but all he could hear was T’Chaka’s words echoing through his head.

“You should find a partner sooner rather than later. The instinct will take over you, and it will become unbearable if you do not have anyone to aid you.”

T’Challa had been so busy trying to rebuild the kingdom that his cousin damn near broke that he had forgotten to look for someone. Sure, there was Nakia, but she had moved to Oakland and their relationship quickly fizzled out. Then, there was that one Dora Milaje after he regained the throne, but that was a one-night thing and she went back to her wife the next morning. He needed to find someone, but who?

As the king’s mind wandered through his options, sweat beads began to form on his chiseled body. He knew he’d be no good today, so T’Challa typed up a message to his family and staff that he would be taking the day off. With that taken care of, all he needed to do was figure out how to get through this heat in one piece. T’Challa looked down at his dick again. It was swollen with need, and he watched as droplets of precum escaped from his tip. He couldn’t take it anymore and decided to bear through the sensitivity. Carefully, as though he might hurt himself, he reached his hand down and grabbed it in his hand. The whimper he let out was foreign to his ears, but it was all he could do when he felt the intense wave of arousal wash over him. He gritted his teeth as he began to slowly move his hand up and down his shaft. It seemed that everywhere his hand went, it left a deep burning sensation in its wake, but he just couldn’t stop. He rutted into his hand, and as soon as his thumb swiped over his reddened tip, he came undone quicker than he ever had before. His body jerked as the milky white substance spilled over his hand, and it seemed that he had plenty to give. However, instead of leaving him sated, all that did was arouse him more.

T’Challa had made a mess all over himself and decided to take a shower, but every touch of his hand, or even the water, drove him up the walls. He needed some pussy, fast. He exited the shower and allowed his body to air dry as he moisturized his mahogany skin. Minutes passed before he noticed that he was still massaging himself, too caught up in the sensation to notice the passage of time. His dick was rock hard again, and he groaned in frustration as he attempted to stuff it into silk lounge pants. He called for his breakfast to be brought to him and spent the day in his quarters, alternating between desperately jacking off and going through his contacts to find the right person. It had been so long since he had opened that figurative little black book that all of his usuals were taken, and unfortunately for him, they were hellbent on remaining faithful for some reason. As the day went on, his hunger grew in intensity, and it got to the point where neither his hand nor his sex toys could cut it anymore. He felt lost, he felt horny beyond belief, and he felt...famished.

T’Challa looked at the time again and realized that he hadn’t eaten in hours. He placed another order from the kitchen and waited impatiently for it to arrive. It wasn’t that he couldn’t wait for the food to be brought up; he was impatient because every moment that passed without him touching himself brought him more pain. He didn’t need the poor kitchen staff walking in on him feverishly pleasuring himself, so he just sat there and attempted to focus his mind elsewhere. Eventually, there was a knock at the door, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Room service,” a melodic voice called out, and T’Challa smiled to himself at his friend’s playful tone. It was Xoliswa. He hadn’t seen her in almost a week, and he was sure she was out of town, yet here she was bringing him his dinner. Xoliswa started working in the kitchen at the palace seven years ago, and they grew close over the years. He was even in her wedding.

T’Challa unlocked the door with his beads, and she came right on in with the cart full of more food than he usually ordered.

“Somebody’s hungry today,” she joked. Just as T’Challa was about to respond with some smartass remark, an aroma hit him square in the face. It definitely wasn’t coming from the heaping portions of doro wot and rum cake he ordered. It was sickly sweet and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention, as well as something else.

The king began to salivate. “New perfume?”

“No, just the usual,” Xoliswa sighed. “Why?”

“No reason. You just smell different today is all,” he gulped to keep from drooling at her smooth, brown legs that were always on display. His eyes traveled up to the curve of her hips and the thickness of her waist before grazing over her delicious-looking chest and landing on her plump lips. Of course, he had noticed her looks before, and they would playfully banter and flirt back and forth from time to time, but this was the first time he was really seeing her beauty. Not only could he see it, but he could smell her from across the room, and his body was reacting in ways he couldn’t control. His dick sprung up and immediately started to harden as he watched her ass bounce in her flowy shorts when she pushed the cart out to the balcony. She had gone too far away, and he felt the intense need to be closer to her, so he bolted up and made his way outside with her.

“Here, let me help you.” T’Challa quickly picked up the heavy tray before she could and placed it on the table before taking his usual seat.

“I thought you didn’t feel good today,” she crossed her arms over her chest, unintentionally pushing her ample breasts even closer together. His body burned at the sight, and he visualized his lips wrapped around her undoubtedly perky nipples. He needed her body on his, but he knew he shouldn’t. Xoliswa was a friend, a confidant, a married woman...

“I don’t,” T’Challa cleared his throat and tried to focus his mind on anything but her. It wasn’t working, though. “But, uh, it’s not what you think. I just needed a day, that’s all.”

“Want to talk about it?” Xoliswa asked as she leaned against the balcony. He was acting strange, and it concerned her. “You know I’m here for you if you need me.”

“Don’t say that,” he chuckled darkly as something flared inside him.

“Why not?” she tilted her head to the side and uncrossed her arms. He would’ve sighed in relief, but she just made it worse by stepping closer to him. Xoliswa placed her hands on his shoulders the way she always did and began kneading his bare flesh. Little did he know, he wasn’t the only one fighting back their arousal. Xoliswa had a small crush on T’Challa since the moment she laid eyes on his muscular frame. Had she not been in a relationship the entire time she’d known him, she would’ve dropped down on her knees and given him the business by now. However, Xoliswa loved her husband and wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing...except for the occasional nights where she closes her eyes and all she can see is him. All she can feel is the king.

T’Challa let out a low groan as her hands worked out his stress, and as usual, the sound made Xoliswa flood the panties that had gotten wedged between her fat pussy lips. The scent of her arousal traveled straight to his nostrils, and his pupils blew wide. He jumped up and crossed the balcony in just a few quick strides, needing to get away from her before he truly lost himself to his lust.

“Seriously, what’s up with you today?!”

“N-nothing, you just...you smell so good, and- Xo, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Xoliswa narrowed her eyes as she tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong with him...but then her eyes fell to the large dickprint in his silk pants. She had seen him in those and similar pants several times before, and although they always left little to the imagination, she had never seen him in his full Bast-given glory. But this time? This time she could almost make out every vein through the soft fabric, which made her pussy spasm with need and release more wetness.

T’Challa could see that Xoliswa was staring right at his dick, and he knew she liked what she saw by the whiff of sweet honey that wafted his way. A low rumbling started in his chest like an engine revving as the burning need in his loins intensified.

Xoliswa spoke barely above a whisper, stunned but in awe of the man before her, “Why are you-”

“My heat,” he sighed.

“Your what?”

“My heat!” T’Challa snarled, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Any other time, he would assume he had scared her, but he knew better now. He could hear her heartbeat, he could smell her dripping pussy, and he could see her hardened nipples and the way her luscious thighs rubbed together in a feeble attempt to quell the throbbing between her legs.

“W-what’s that?”

T’Challa gestured for her to take a seat, and she lowered herself into the chair across from his, squirming in her pooled fluids. Her obedience just made him harder, if that was at all possible. He gingerly sat down across from her and just stared for a moment, her breathing getting shallower with each inhale.

“One of my newly acquired panther instincts requires me to, uh, mate every three months.”

“So...you basically ovulate four times a year,” Xoliswa joked in an attempt to break the tension, but he began to growl at her again, causing them both to shudder at the other’s arousal.

“It’s more than being a little horny and fertile, Xo. I have to- no, I need to find a release, or I’ll go crazy. My whole body is on fire, and masturbating just makes it worse. I’ve been in here all day-”

“You’ve been in here jacking off all day?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s not helping?”

“Not at all.”

“Have you tried-”

“Yes. Whatever it is, I’ve tried it. Trust me.”

Silence descended upon the pair as they both stared at each other, stuck in a lustful feedback loop, chests heaving and mouths watering. Xoliswa was the first to break, so she stood and headed for the door. She had to get out of there, the atmosphere was too thick, and she couldn’t think straight with him staring at her like a piece of meat. She couldn't stand to look at him any longer or she might do something she’d regret later, but when he grabbed her wrist and looked up at her with those pitch-black eyes, she knew she was in trouble.

“Xoliswa, please,” he begged. He knew he had no business asking that of her, but he was desperate, and she just looked so damn delicious.

She bit her lip as her eyes traveled back down to his bulge that had started leaking through the fabric of his pants.

“Shit…”

“You like what you see?” his voice was lower than she’d ever heard. It seemed like everything he did turned her on more and more. T’Challa took a deep inhale so he could know for sure, and his head swarmed with the smell of her. “Yeah, you like it. I can smell that sweet pussy; it’s dripping for me, Xo.”

He had never spoken to her like that before, and every word lured her further into his trap. She had a brief moment of clarity and pulled her wrist from his grasp, taking a step back.

“T-T’Challa, I’m married-”

“Tell your body that, then,” he grumbled as he stood and stalked closer to her. She backed up with every step he took until she was wedged between his body and the doorframe. His arms went up on either side of her, and he leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath tickle her lips. “Tell me right now: do you want me?”

Her eyes darted around, desperate to look at anything but the coal irises that would surely draw her in. “I-I-”

“Say it, Xo. I want you so fucking bad,” T’Challa growled with his face buried in her neck, imprinting her scent deep in his brain. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but take a little bite. As soon as his teeth made contact with her skin, she let out a light moan and set his body into overdrive. He pressed his hips into her, and the heat of her skin made him whimper. The noise shocked her, and she realized just how much he needed her...as if the ten inches of clothed steel pressing into her stomach wasn’t enough of a sign.

Xoliswa had secretly wanted this for a long time. In her dreams, he’d fuck her good and deep and leave her a sobbing, leaking mess. Truthfully, if he had ever come onto her before this, she probably would have caved then, too, but she thought he was too gentlemanly to do so and pushed the dirty fantasy to the back of her mind. Boy, was she wrong. Right now, T’Challa couldn’t give a shit about chivalry and certainly didn’t care about her husband. Right now, all he wanted- no, all he needed was her body.

She pulled his curls to remove him from her neck, and he growled again at the titillating pain and the loss of contact.

“You want me?” she whispered, her lips mere centimeters from his.

“Mmm, more than anything.”

Xoliswa’s hand traveled down his body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. T’Challa’s lip found its way between his teeth again as he struggled to maintain composure, but it all flew out the window when he felt her hand wrap around his throbbing length.

“Fuck! Xo, stop playing and-”

“You need me?” she teased as she pulled his pants down over his hips and let them pool at his feet. She wrapped both of her hands around his girth and stroked him softly. He was so sensitive that he jerked away from her hand, but she grabbed him and pulled him back in. Xoliswa had dreamed of this day, so why not make her dream come true?

Suddenly, T’Challa’s self-control went out of the window as he thrust into her hands and wrapped one of his much larger hands around her throat. She stared back at him with lust clouding her eyes as he met her lips for a hungry kiss. The taste of her on his tongue drove him wild, and she felt his dick begin to twitch. She picked up her pace and gripped him a little tighter, making him stick his tongue further down her throat. She melted into him. The firm grip he had on her made her knees weak, and just as they began to buckle, he pulled his lips from hers and said the three magic words he had uttered so many times in her dreams.

“On your knees.”

Xoliswa fell to the ground and looked up at him with her mouth opened wide for him to use. And use it, he did. T’Challa was surprised she could take all of him without any training, but he guessed her husband might have been around his size.

Her husband. He had a married woman on her knees, slobbering up and down his shaft. He had Xoliswa on her knees…

Just the thought of how wrong this was turned him on even more, and as if the same thought had occurred to her, Xoliswa started sucking harder. The spit foaming in the corners of her mouth and running down her chin soaked her chest, and the king longed to see more. He reached down and ripped her shirt down the middle, freeing her breasts from the confines of modern clothing. T’Challa grinned when he saw that not only was she not wearing a bra, but her nipples stood erect like two Hershey’s kisses ready for him to devour. Just the way he liked.

Xoliswa didn’t care that he had ruined her shirt; all she cared about was making her king cum. She wanted to taste him and swallow everything he had to give, so she grew impatient and turned it up a notch, fondling his balls in her hands as she sucked on him. Her tongue swirled around his tip, and he gripped her locs in his fist to hold her down on him as he exploded into her mouth. Splashes of him coated her throat, and she swallowed every last drop he gifted to her. She blinked up at him with those innocent-looking eyes as she sucked him like a straw, milking him for all he’s worth. Normally, he would get overstimulated at this point, but that seemed impossible. Xoliswa gave him the best head he’s had in a long time, but it still wasn’t enough to sate him.

T’Challa pulled her head off him, and the bridge of spit that connected them was a sight to see. He reached down and lifted her to her feet, kissing her once more to taste his saltiness on her tongue.

“You still...want...this pussy?” Xoliswa asked between kisses.

“Mmmmhmmm,” he grunted as he pushed up on her again.

Xoliswa pushed him away, and he looked at her like she had betrayed him. His face relaxed when he noticed the feral look in her eyes and the way her pheromones filled the air.

“Take what you need.”

T’Challa saw red, and the next thing he knew, he was buried deep inside her as he pounded her into the mattress. The arch in her back deepened as he fucked her rougher than her husband could have ever dreamed of. Xoliswa struggled to see as she reached for the sheets to hold onto, but he wouldn’t let her. T’Challa pinned her hands behind her back and continued to plow into her as she screamed.

“Fuck, yes! Just like that, baby! Ooooh, T’Challa-”

“You like that?”

“Yes!”

“Then take it. Fucking take it!” he roared as he released inside her, but neither was ready to stop. Xoliswa loved how his cum felt dripping out of her, making her pussy even wetter than it already was. Keeping it juicy for him to do whatever he needed to do to her body.

“This tight fucking pussy, Xo,” he groaned as he slowed down and grinded into her, stirring her insides. His heavy hand came down on her ass, and she let out the most adorable squeak. He smiled and did it again and again, her pussy tightening around him with every strike until she couldn’t take it anymore. Xoliswa’s body convulsed as she came all over the king’s dick.

“T’Challaaaa!” she wailed, and he stopped to massage her cheeks.

“Too much?”

She looked back at him and smiled mischievously with a glint in her eye. “No, my king.”

“I’m your king?” he teased while rubbing her clit, making her hips circle on his dick as he stood still and let her work.

“Yessss,” she whined.

“Then cum for your king one more time. I have another load for you,” he whispered in her ear with his teeth firmly gripping the lobe. His fingers tickled the underside of her clit, and she bucked her hips. “That’s your spot, huh?”

“Y-yes, my king!”

He alternated between circling her clit and strumming the underside for barely a few moments before her pussy began to grip him again. T’Challa leaned back and watched the way her pussy spasmed on him. He couldn’t hold out and exploded inside her once more.

“Mmmm, baby, I love when you do that.”

“You love when I cum in this pussy?”

“Mmmhm,” her voice grew higher in pitch the more she felt him twitch inside her.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.”

T’Challa pulled out slowly, and she moaned as his bulbous head dragged across her g-spot. He flipped her over with ease and slid right back into her slippery canal. She loved how full he made her feel, how he stretched her walls and beat the breaks off her pussy. But this? This felt so good.

His hips moved slowly as he stroked deep into her and gazed into her eyes.

“I just need one more, babygirl. One more, and I think I’ll be good, ok?”

“Whatever you need, my king,” Xoliswa whispered against his lips and pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, and he chuckled darkly.

“You want me in there deep, don’t you?”

“As deep as you can go, baby.”

“You’re filthy. Does your husband know what a little slut you are?”

Xoliswa released all over him again.

“Oh, you like when I talk about him when I’m in these guts? You like being reminded of how naughty you are, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” Xoliswa nodded with tears threatening to fall from her eyes from how good it felt to have T’Challa inside her.

“Let me ask you something,” he leaned in close to her ear and thrust harder. “Does he fuck you like I do?”

Xoliswa frantically shook her head, “N-no!”

“Then you come to me whenever you need a taste of what a king can do for you.”

“Yes, baby!” she keened as he picked up the pace and dropped his weight on her.

“You know this pussy is mine, now, right? He can use it if you want him to, but this shit belongs to me. You’re fucking mine, Xoliswa.”

“T’Challa-”

“Mmmhm, say my name, babygirl. Tell them who owns this tight little pussy,” he punctuated those last three words with thrusts so deep she swore she could feel it in her ribs. “Who owns you?”

“T’Challaaaa!”

His eyes rolled back in his head at hearing his name fall from her lips. Her voice was shaky and hoarse, but she screamed his name over and over again as his hips pounded into hers, the curve of his dick angling just right to keep her creaming all over him.

“Fuck, baby, here it comes. You ready?”

Xoliswa looked him dead in the eye and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Cum in your pussy, Black Panther.”

He hadn’t expected her to call him that, but it lit something within him, and he came harder than he ever had before. He bit into her neck as he spasmed inside her, pumping her full of his essence. She came from the feeling of him releasing so much and putting it right where it belonged. Their bodies fed off each other, and when one would spasm, it would trigger the other to cum. T’Challa peppered sweet kisses all over Xoliswa’s face and spoke to her in hushed tones, “Thank you, babygirl.”

Xoliswa couldn’t speak; she could only moan incoherently. Minutes passed before their bodies began to tire of the constant state of arousal, and they slowly pulled apart. She whimpered as she felt their fluids escape her and drip slowly down her crack, and he could only watch in awe. He had never produced so much, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of Xoliswa or his heat or a combination of both. Whatever it was, he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet.

“Call Abdul. Tell him you have to work tonight,” he rasped, making a devilish smile appear on her face. She knew she was in for the night of her life, and just the thought of what was to come had her playing with her overstimulated clit. He swatted her hand away and replaced it with his own. “Call him. Now. Make sure your camera is off.”

T’Challa kissed from her neck down to her chocolate nipples and took a bite, making her yip at the sensation. “Be quiet, or he’ll catch you. You don’t want that, do you?”

“N-no, my king,” she stuttered out as she pressed Abdul’s contact card and called him.

“What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be working? Or are you slacking off with T’Challa again,” he joked, and Xoliswa locked eyes with a smug T’Challa as his tongue swirled around her nipple.

“N-no, I’m at work,” she struggled to speak as T’Challa trailed his tongue down her body and suctioned his lips around her clit. She snapped her legs shut around his head, making him pry them open with a menacing growl.

“What was that?” Abdul asked.

“What was what?” Xoliswa chuckled nervously.

“I thought I heard something. Anyways, what’s up, sweetie?”

“I, uh-” she stopped herself and muted the call for a moment to let out a moan from the pits of her soul as T’Challa showed no mercy on her. His tongue masterfully maneuvered around her clit like he designed it himself, and the three slender fingers curling inside her coaxed another orgasm out of her.

“Take him off mute right fucking now,” T’Challa ordered with a mouth full of pussy.

“Hello? Xo?”

She scrambled to unmute the call and calm her breathing down as the king nibbled on her labia and sped his fingers up inside her.

“I’m here, baby. I-have-to-work-late-so-I’m-staying-at-the-palace-tonight!”

“Wait, slow down. I can barely understand you. Are you ok?”

“I’m ok,” she giggled as T’Challa nibbled on her inner thighs. “I’m staying here tonight.”

“Oh, no problem. Don’t let T’Challa work you too hard, ok?”

“I won’t!” she squeaked.

“Good. You get back to work, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Tell him you love him,” T’Challa whispered against her pussy lips, and Xoliswa couldn’t help but oblige.

“Abdul?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“I-I love you.”

“I love you too, Xo. Call me when you get off,” he blew her a kiss through the phone, and she hung up right as T’Challa started chuckling.

“You almost got us caught!” she fussed.

“You liked it. Don’t lie.”

Xoliswa bit her lip to hide her smile, but it didn’t work.

“Maybe a little.”

“Mmmhm. Nasty slut, letting me use you like this. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

Xoliswa’s pussy jumped, and T’Challa couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Maybe you should teach me a lesson,” Xoliswa moaned as she ground her hips on his fingers, and his dick hardened right back up. “Or punish me.”

“Fuck, Xo, where have you been all my life?” he groaned and pulled his fingers from her, lining the head of his dick up with her entrance.

“Married...to my husband,” Xoliswa teased. T’Challa’s nostrils flared, and she knew it was on.

She wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @dersha89

#cecewritessometimes #oneshot #smut #t'challa fic #t'challa x oc #black!oc #Youtube

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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years ago

Text

Deadbeat Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut/masturbation (implied/mild), cursing, abandonment, infatuation, alcohol, cheating, violence?, mild housewife kink?

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

There are no tags on this one, because no one has specifically asked to be tagged on smut fics and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable!

I hope you all enjoy!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

“Get out of here Lee,” you spat, pointing to the door he just walked into the bar from. “You swore to Janie you wouldn’t touch a drop.”

“C’mon (y/n),” he said sitting at the bar anyways, a smug grin on his face, making you scoff.

“I ain’t having anything to do with you breaking your promise to that lovely woman,” you say confirming your point. You wipe your hands on the towel that was hanging from your apron.

“Jack and coke?” He asks, looking at you with eyes that would be endearingly puppy dog if it weren’t Lee Bodecker. You shook your head.

“A coke it is,” you say and he gives up trying for now. He regrets telling you on his last visit he’d be swearing off drinking cause Janie finally threatened to throw him out.

You slide a glass bottle of Coca-Cola down the length of the bar to Lee and he grinds his teeth slightly. The sugar was always his temporary fix. You also sent down his way a small bowl of roasted peanuts, feeling bad for the mess of a man.

“She’s gonna leave me anyways,” he grumbles and you shake your head, picking up on his attempts to illicit sympathy to coax you into giving him a drop of anything.

“Stop giving her a reason to Lee,” you point out, gesturing with your hands to emphasize that he was in the same small bar on the edge of town he always wandered into on weeknights. He’d tell Janie he was on duty but he’d really be down in this little box of a building getting drunk as a stunk.

“She’s the one who gone and cheated,” Lee said in an angry tone, not towards you, just at his situation. “That Miller fellow living a few miles down from me. I see his truck parked outside my house plenty of times to know he’s not just being neighborly.”

“I’m sorry Lee,” you say with a genuine tone of sympathy. You felt for him and his pain. You knew the stress of the job he led and the pain of knowing the love of your life don’t love you.

“She’s going to leave me,” he says, staring intently at the condensation on the bottle in front of him. “I’d been trying so hard for her and our marriage and she’s two timing with the neighbor when I’m out working.”

“And the thing is I don’t even care if she cheated,” Lee continued, “I’d look the other way if I knew she’d be staying with me. But it’s cause I know she don’t love me anymore. That’s what’s hurting me most.”

“Maybe y’all can work through this-“

“This was inevitable,” he says, cutting you off. You don’t point it out, cause he’s clearly distressed but normally you’d have no problem saying to Lee ‘Fuck you, let me finish Sheriff.’

“Do you got somebody?” Lee asks you. The question takes you back cause it wasn’t like the Sheriff to ask your about anything personal. He would come in, and you’d shoot the shit, exchange small talk, maybe some harmless flirting for a larger tip, but that was the extent of it.

“No, not anymore,” you say, having recently broke things off with your boyfriend. “I was seeing Arvin Russell for a couple months, but we just broke it off.”

“You’re too good for him anyways,” the sheriff scoffed at the mention of the Russell boy and took another swing from his bottle of pop. “How old are you anyways, sweetheart?”

“Twenty-one,” you respond, not thinking too much about the nickname. He had a habit of frequently using names like that when he talked to the women in this town. You think it started out as a tactic to win re-election and then it just stuck. He nodded.

“Yeah you two are around the same age,” he said, more so thinking out loud than it being a statement directed towards you. “Why’d you break it off?”

“Beat up my brother,” you answered, “Granted, the little shit had it coming. Can’t blame Arvin after I heard how the asshole was bothering that sweet thing Lenora. But he just took it too far. Almost killed the kid. The boy saw red so I got myself out of the picture. You can’t be with a boy who does that to your kin.”

Lee nodded understandingly. You didn’t interpret his actions or questions as genuine concern or interest in you, but that he was just asking you questions to distract from his marital woes.

“I’d do so many things different if I could be your age again,” he chuckled in a self-deprecating tone. “I’d sure as hell love to turn back time and have myself go down a better path.”

“It’s not just you, Sheriff,” you reply after collecting money another man sitting at the bar. You nod as a goodbye to the man, and then curse under your breath when he doesn’t tip you. “Asshole,” you mumble, tossing the few pennies into the tip jar. You walk back over to the sheriff and prop your elbows on the bar. “I’m sure everyone is this town wishes the same thing,” you say, trying to make him feel better.

“I’d love to just be your age again,” he says with a sigh, and then pops a small handful of the peanuts in his mouth. “Young, got your whole life ahead of you.”

“I’m not sure working in a place like this is setting me up for great things, Sheriff,” you chuckle moving to wipe the bar in the area where that other customer left. “A woman working as a bartender is equivalent to just being a whore according to the eyes of the Lord... at least in this town,” you laugh, using the towel from your apron to wipe the rings left behind on the countertop from the glasses.

“Arvin didn’t think so,” Lee countered, trying to make you feel a little better about your position. “I don’t think so. Hell, people in this town are so uptight about things that aren’t their business. You’re young, you need a job and you have one. It’s that simple.”

“I wish more people in this town thought that way,” you reply with a smile. “That new preacher last Sunday-“

“Don’t listen to that asshole,” the Sheriff scoffed, and chuckled when your eyes widened at his derogatory words towards the preacher. “He’s a showboating son of a bitch and he’s as phony as they come.”

“Those ruffled shirts are the most pretentious thing I ever seen,” you say, letting out a big laugh thinking about when he is giving a sermon in what looks like tacky prom attire.

“Pay him no mind,” Lee said, bringing the bottle to his grinning lips as he looked at you. “You’re a better person than he is.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” you chuckle.

“Have a goodnight hunny,” another customer at the bar says dropping cash on the table as they leave. “Goodnight Sheriff,” the older man tips his hat and then walks out.

“Have a goodnight Marvin,” you call after him, “Give my love to Loretta!” You clear the empty glass and drop the cash off in the register.

While you’re moving around, Lee takes a moment to actually look at you. Any man with eyes knew you were pretty, but he ain’t never noticed before just how attractive you were. His eyes lingered for a moment at how the canvas waist apron extenuated your figure. He couldn’t believe this stunning young thing was stuck in a place like this with a dead end job talking to a deadbeat like him.

“How long you staying for Sheriff?” You ask suddenly, pulling him out of his trance.

“Uh, not sure,” he says, looking up at the dingy Luger Beer clock that hung on the wall. “Why sugar?”

“Seeing as though your sober I was hoping I could trouble you for a ride home?” You ask shyly.

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “No trouble at all honey.”

“Thank you, Lee,” you say with a smile, making his heart skip a beat.

He’d talk to you most weeknights and never had this feeling. Maybe he had but he was too wrapped up in his own troubles to notice it. You were such a sweet girl, and he realized what an injustice it truly was for you to be stuck here.

The thought crossed his mind very quickly about if he wasn’t married- even though he knew divorce was coming around the corner any day now. If he had met you at a different time in his life if it would’ve been better. Instead of meeting you as an overweight, deadbeat of a sheriff which a drinking problem- he’d met you when he was fresh out of school, same age you are now. You all coulda fallen in love, started a family, and that would’ve been enough to keep him from taking up drinking in the first place.

He knew from the beginning Janie ain’t ever loved him. Hell, he’s not sure if he ever loved her thinking back on the whole relationship. Lustful, without any sort of promise behind it and they both were users. They used each other. He knew he treated her poorly as poorly as she treated him. He definitely had loved her, that much he knew was true, but now she’s cheating- something Lee never thought of doing at all no matter how many fights they had until the early morning hours.

As you maneuvered around behind the bar, locking up the liquor and wiping down the machines getting ready to lock up for the night, his mind played little tricks on him. The canvas apron was instead a pinafore, and the bar was his kitchen. He’d loved the sight, thinking about coming home to you instead of what was soon to just be an empty house.

Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he’d even be the one to keep his house. The idea of finding a new house- buying one for you, and being able to start over sounded like a dream life. Hell, he’d run away from this town right now if you said the word. He’s sure he could secure an election in another town, he had the connections to make it happen.

“I just got to lock up the office and I’ll be ready to go,” you say, untying your apron. He gulps and nods as confirmation. You disappear in the back room, cash drawer in your arms to lock away in the safe. He heads behind the bar to dispose of his empty bottle and the cardboard tray his peanuts were in.

You come back, your peacoat buttoned and the sash tied around your waist in a bow you had made. You had a small handbag in one hand, and your work apron in the other. Suddenly, he was nervous and didn’t know how to carry himself around you. Undeniably, the Sheriff was developing a crush. He couldn’t shake the feeling. He wanted to ask you out on a proper date, but he knew with his age and reputation- it wouldn’t be fitting. He was moving way too fast in his own mind to keep up with. Just daydreams, he thought to himself, suppressing the thoughts of a future with you for now.

“Okay,” you said, giving the place one more once over to make sure it was all set. “That does it.”

“After you,” he said, holding the door open for you. You giggled, and once you both were outside, you used your key to lock the front door. He held the door open for you to take the passenger seat in the cruiser. As you buckled your seatbelt, he walked over to the driver’s side and then slide into his seat.

You were a little nervous. You weren’t sure why. This wasn’t the first time you’d asked for a ride home. Usually, it’s never this late. When you close, you usually walk home alone. You definitely didn’t live that far, but again that was more dangerous than getting a ride home.

You realized that you were worried about nothing. You thought maybe some would accuse you of something scandalous, getting a ride home from a man so late. However, this was the Sheriff and the streets didn’t have another car on it at all. The town knew where you worked and if anyone were to see you, they’d know you were closing shift and you asked for a ride to avoid walking home this late alone.

“Thank you again,” you said, starting up a conversation as the sheriff was backing out of the tiny lot that was next to the bar.

“Oh, don’t mention it, hun,” he said, “It’s my job to make sure you get home safe. Your house is the white one at the end of Birch?”

“The very one,” you say, looking out the window. There aren’t any street lights, and the only light for miles is coming from the headlights of the cruiser. You don’t catch Lee stealing glances at you as he starts moving forward.

“How’s your ma doing?” He asks, making conversation.

“Oh, she left,” you said nonchalantly, and it makes Lee’s eyebrow raise in confusion.

“Wait. What?” He asks looking over at you for a second before turning his eyes back to the road.

“Oh, I thought you would’ve heard,” you say softly, your façade of indifference torn down. “She left us about a month ago. Met a man from Columbus and moved in with him. The whole town was talking about it for weeks.”

“So, is it just you and Tommy now?” he asks, wondering what kind of a mother leaves her girl to take care of her high school aged brother on what she makes at the bar.

“Oh, he went with her,” you explain, “House is all mine. After the whole thing with Arvin, she decided to pull him out of school and he goes to school in Columbus now. She wasn’t gonna bring him but after that, she changed her mind.”

“They just left you?”

“I chose to stay.”

“No offense but why would the hell would you chose to do that?” he jokes, making you laugh a little.

“It’s all paid off, and my grandpa left it to me and not her anyways,” you explain. “House has been in my name for three years now. And if we sold the house, she’d just piss the money away. Besides, would you move back in your mother now, Sheriff?”

“No, I can’t say I would want to,” he chuckles.

“So, I’m just supporting myself and that ain’t too bad,” you shrug.

“Sounds lonely,” he comments and you nod in agreement.

“It can be,” you admit, as he turns down your street.

“You ain’t worried living alone?” He asks.

“You tell me, Sheriff,” you joke, “If I got something to worry about it sounds like you’re not doing your job.”

“Ouch,” he says and holds a hand clutching his hand to his heart dramatically. It made you laugh, and it made him smile that he made you laugh. God, he loved your laugh.

“Thank you again, Lee,” you say sincerely, quickly kissing his cheek when he parks in front of your house. The gesture takes him back, and he’s relieved you can’t see how red his face is. He’s almost angry at how flustered you make him and you have no idea. “Have a goodnight,” you say.

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” he says, a little shakily. You get out of the car, and he watches you walk up to the porch, your hips swaying naturally, and he bites his lip. He groans, but at his disappointment in himself for staring again. You disappear behind the front door and he hits his palm on the steering wheel, trying to shake whatever feeling this was.

He reluctantly drove home, not wanting to have to talk or see Janie. He knew he was just heading home to a fight for being out so late, even though he knows she takes full advantage having fucking Miller over. His jaw is locked, angry about a fight he hasn’t even had with her yet. His cheek still tingles from your touch, and he thinks about if he should just leave Janie. He could just leave, get an apartment nearby or something. He doesn’t even care if she gets the damn house. He’s bracing himself for another night of fighting as he pulls into his own driveway and heading up to his own house.

He fumbles with his keys in the dark. He thinks he had the right one, but it doesn’t work. He tries another that is the same shape, still doesn’t work. He intakes a sharp breath and tries the first key again- he’s positive that’s his house key. “Fucking Christ,” he mutters when the key won’t even go into the lock. “Janie!” he shouts, pounding on the front door. She changed the locks.

“Fuck,” he exclaims, stomping down the front steps and walking around to the back door. He tries his keys again with no luck. He pounds into the door hard and incredibly loud. He knows she’s there, upstairs in their bed, ignoring his knocks. He tries the kitchen window, but it’s locked. Every window on the first floor is fucking locked. He curses again and heads back to his cruiser. He slams the door shut and his grip on the wheel is turning his knuckles white. Does she expect him to sleep in his car in the driveway?

He doesn’t even think about where he’s going to go, but he knows damn sure he’s not going to give her the satisfaction of sleeping outside of his house in his cop car for the whole town to talk about. He just pulls out of his driveway and starts driving. He isn’t even thinking about what route he’s driving, it’s like he’s driving on autopilot while he screams out every curse word in existence.

By the time he calms down, he realizes he’s driving down Birch again. His muscles in his body tense, and he thinks back to your conversation when he dropped you off. Your mother and brother were gone, meaning you have two spare bedrooms. He knows he shouldn’t but the temptation is way too overwhelming. He has nowhere else to go. If someone saw his car… well, he’d worry about that tomorrow. Your house is two miles away from your nearest neighbor, settled back at the end of a long dirt road. Someone knowing he was there was unlikely. He had people who could save your name. It was all innocent. Janie kicked him out and he knew you had an extra room. Hell, he’d rent a room from you- Wait. That’s perfect. That solved all of his problems and yours. He knows you were downplaying how hard it must be to keep up with the house and by him paying rent, you could take care of the house. It was a win-win.

He felt so confident now and he was so proud of himself for devising this plan. He parked his car out front and then walked up to your front door, knocking gently. The sound of the knock made him now incredibly nervous. He didn’t want to scare you or for you to think he was trying to take advantage. Granted, there would be a lot more than financial benefits to being able to live with you, which he knew were selfish, but the idea of being able to see you everyday was overwhelming. It was the closest thing to the dream he was wrapped up in back at the bar. He could live out his little pretend domestic bliss, and you’d get the money you need for the house. He knew he was insane and this was probably wildly inappropriate, but he knew you were too kind to turn him away.

You opened the door with a small yawn, a yellow bathrobe secured over your nightgown fully, to keep yourself decent when you answered the door. You were going to call the Sheriff when you heard the rapping at your door so late and ignore the knocks, but looking out the window of your bedroom you saw it was Lee’s cruiser parked outside.

“Lee?” you ask quietly, sleepiness very evident on your mumbled voice.

“Janie kicked me out,” he said softly, “Changed the locks on me. Darling, I’m so sorry for intruding but I have no where else to go.”

“Come in,” you say sympathetically, the news waking you up quite a bit. “Lee, I’m so sorry. You can take my mom’s old room; it’s got an attached bathroom you can use too.”

“Thank you (Y/N),” he says quietly. You close the door and secure the lock and the chain again as he looks around the house.

“Don’t worry about it,” you insist. “I can take you there. Follow me.”

You walk up the stairs, Lee following closely behind and he’s ashamed that he took the opportunity to just openly check you out again. At the top of the stairs there was a hallway lined with photographs in mismatched frames. You point to the door at the end of the hall.

“That’s the master,” you explain, “There’s a bathroom attached inside if you want to clean up or anything. There’re clothes in the dresser if you want pajamas- should be in the bottom drawer.”

“Okay, thank you,” he replies, looking down at you as you yawn again, and he notices how your hair is a little messy. The sight drives him wild.

“Anything in the kitchen is up for the taking to,” you offer.

“Look, (Y/N),” he says, “I know this isn’t the best time to be talking about this, but I really need a more permanent plan on where to go. I know it sounds crazy and out of the blue, but could I rent that room from you? Name your price. I figured… I really need a new place, and you could probably use another source of income to keep up with the house. Plus, it’s safer than living alone…”

“Um…,” you begin to speak, but you bit your lip, showing that you’re intently thinking about his offer. Everything he said was right. You needed the money, and he was right that living alone was dangerous in this town and living with the sheriff is the safest person there was in the whole town. People would talk, of course, but no one would deny that the circumstances were just ideal for the two of you and nothing more. You were an adult, a homeowner, and it was your business who you rented a room too. “Yeah, I think that makes sense for both of us,” you agree. “We’ll sort out the details tomorrow.”

“Of course,” he says with a smile.

“Alright, um,” you say crossing your arms around your chest awkwardly. “Goodnight, Lee.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” Lee responds as you head back into your own bedroom. He let’s out a heavy sigh and heads into your mom’s room- or rather his new room. He’d have to figure out how to get his stuff back from Janie tomorrow. He’d really just need his clothes and some other necessities.

The room was fairly spacious. There was a closet and dresser. The closet still had some clothes of your mom’s left behind, and for the most part, the room looked fairly intact. It was like she up and left with just a few things. Lee shook his head, angry at how poorly you were treated by your mother. He pulls off his leather jacket, tossing it and his hat onto the bed. He opened up the bottom drawer of the dresser, and just like you said, it was filled with men’s clothing. He concluded they had to belong to the man your mom lived with now, more things just left behind.

He tosses a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt onto the bed, and then he heads to the bathroom.

In the drawer beside the sink, he finds a new toothbrush still in its packaging, that he opens for himself and drops it in the white toothbrush holder on the counter. The towels are all clean and folded neatly on the shelf above the toilet. He finds a new soap under the sink as well, and decided he needed a shower to just wash off everything of tonight off in hopes he’ll feel better.

He strips of his uniform, folding it nicely knowing he’ll need to wear it all again tomorrow morning. He steps into the shower and turns on the water. The hot water just immediately helps him to loosen the muscles that had been so tense. He lets the warm water run down his face and back, just letting himself enjoy the feeling. He lathers up his body with soap and then it finally hits him that he was here, living with you, and then suddenly he’s hard.

“Fuck,” he mutters, resting his head against the shower wall, the running down his back. He was in so much trouble he realizes. As he beats himself off in the shower, his mind is clouded with thoughts of you. The way the apron at the bar looked around your hips, and the smell of your perfume when you leaned into him. The way your body looked as you paraded yourself around behind the bar. The way you have no problem talking back to him when he walks into the bar after saying he’s off the bottle the night before, just making want to shut you up with a rough kiss. The feeling of your lips on his cheek and he imagines your lips on his neck. He thinks about how your hair looked tousled when you just showed him to his room. He lets himself slip back into that same domestic daydream. You being his wife… married to you instead dealing with this goddamn divorce. The absolute sickening sweet domesticity making him groan, as he imagines his hand is yours. Why on earth did he think he’d be able to do this?

PART TWO

#lee bodecker #the devil all the time #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #lee bodecker smut #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan characters #lee bodecker x reader smut #angst #smut

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woniepop · 4 years ago

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feel special ༉‧₊˚✧

➜ the three times you didn’t want to be Karl’s best friend any more and the one time you weren’t

Pairing: Karl Jacob’s x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, best friends to lovers au, enemies to lovers au

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, cursing

Word Count: 2.0k words

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time writing for a mcyt streamer, but unfortunately I will not be writing works for more streamers anytime soon. This is for my lovely friend basil Ly and losingvienna’s follower event, which you should definitely check out of you are in to mcyt streamers!!

I highly recommend checking @basilly and @losingvienna out if you haven’t already!!

Ever since you met Karl, you’ve hated everything about him. He was sweet, he was caring, he was everything you’ve ever wanted in anyone. From the moment he stepped foot in your kindergarten your life had become a living hell. He was great! You on the other hand, had never felt more miserable in your life. It had never occurred to you that being different was a bad thing, but apparently, to your whole kindergarten class of 26 kids, it was terrible. But, somehow, amidst the screaming kids and the poorly colored art projects, Karl only saw you.

Your fellow kindergarten classmates stared at you, perhaps a bit too judgingly, as you sat down in your seat. Feeling super excited to come to school today, your grandma has recently gotten you your very own pink sundress, equipped with a pink satin ribbon to tie a cute little bow in the back. You wanted your classmates to like you, so you had to be the prettiest you could ever be.

“Why are you wearing a dress to school? Do you think you’re a princess?” one of the children say, rather, shout across the room. And with that, the whole class starts laughing, except you.

“What? Are you trying to impress someone?”

“OOO Y/N HAS A CRUSH!”

“I bet it’s Karl”

“Of course it is. She just wants to daaaaaaate him, doesn’t she?”

With tears welling up in your eyes and boogers dripping down your nose, you quickly stand up just to take the hall pass and run to the nearest bathroom. It was humiliating, feeling like you had tried so hard to make friends just to get laughed at. It felt terrible.

You were NOT excited for your first day of high school. Why would you be? It was just another year of “light hearted” jokes about you and how you were “so different.” Settling with a seat in the back, you tilt your head down only for the teacher to walk in right after.

“Good morning, students! Welcome to your first day of Freshman Year! I’m sure you’re all very excited for these next four years, but before that why don’t we all introduce ourselves to each other!” The teacher says, in a high pitch, peppy voice. You had stopped listening to her after that. You already knew what was going to happen, you were going to be paired up with some immature male football player looking for a tall, hot, and blonde cheerleader girlfriend, then he was going to say something stupid like, “Girls like you aren’t really my type.” No shit you weren’t his type. It happened every year. Feeling a light tap on your shoulder, you force your head up, preparing yourself for the dreadful introduction.

“Hi! I believe we’re partners for the All About Me project. May I sit here?” he says, pointing to the chair beside you. He, as in Karl Jacobs. The Karl Jacobs. The man, the myth, the legend, the boy that filled your entire life with “She just wants to date Karl. She’s such an attention whore.” With that, your eyes widen. You weren’t expecting him, nor were you ever this mad about anything in your life. You didn’t want to know anything about him, let alone do a whole project learning about him.

“Yeah, you can sit there.” You answer through clenched teeth.

“Thanks! I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be able to finish this within the period considering there are like 30 questions, so did you want to work on this in the library after school?” he asks.

“Sure.” You say promptly, not even bothering to make eye contact with him.

“I believe we went to the same elementary school, but I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you, so I’m glad we got to be partners for this project. I’m excited to get to know you.” He says, a glint of hope in his eyes. You hated it. Was he actually being nice? To you?

The rest of the period would have been answering all the questions on the list, but instead you guys had been side tracked, going off topic and talking about anything and everything. Putting aside your hatred for the boy, Karl seemed like a genuinely nice person. You had learned he loved gaming, which he was surprised you had a knack for as well.

“Well, Y/n, I’m sorry we couldn’t get a lot done this period. But, I’ll see you at the library later, and maybe we can even try out that new game you talked about tonight.” He says, standing up out of his chair and leaving the classroom. Maybe today wouldn’t be too bad after all.

ONE “Move!” you say, playfully shoving Karl off of you. It was the summer before your senior year, and you would have never guessed that you, Y/n L/n, would be spending your whole high school career with the boy you loathed most, Karl Jacobs. If there was ever anything you'd ever looked forward to, it was spending every Friday night with Karl Jacobs. That fateful day at the library was the start of the best tradition ever known to man.

“But we’re watching a movie!” Karl exclaims.

“So? You don’t need to watch it while squishing me half to death.”

“What do you mean? Have you ever heard of CUDDLING?”

“Cuddling has never consisted of MURDER.”

It was always like this. Every Friday night Karl would come to your house, your mom would gush at how handsome he was while she set a plate down of whatever food he wanted, and him telling her that she was the best cook ever. This is what you’ve always wanted, right? You had a best friend, who accepted you as you were, and you him. Despite always having heartwarming and laughter filled moments with your best friend, your heart hurt. A lot. Maybe the moment was just too heartwarming, or maybe this was the universe telling you that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore.

TWO “Hey, Karl!” she says. Ah, yes. Her. Karl’s childhood crush since what? Fourth grade?

“Oh, um, Hi!” He replies. There it was. That dreadful pain in your chest that only grew bigger as she sat down right next to him, disregarding the fact that you were sitting right there. The way she twirled her long blonde hair, the way she leaned over to show all of her cleavage, the way she wore skirts so short you could almost see her underwear, and the way it made your blood boil and your heart hurt until you couldn’t handle it anymore. You wanted to walk away so bad, but as Karl’s best friend you should support him in his romantic interests, even if you didn’t like them.

“So… I’m sure you’ve heard already. I broke up with my boyfriend.” she says, tracing her finger up and down his arm, making him noticeably very nervous.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always here.” You hear him say. Of course he was always here. He was there for everyone, and he would never try to exclude anyone from his kindness.

“I broke up with him because of you!”

“W-what”

“I want to be with you, silly!” she says. And with that, you felt your whole world go black and white. Did you hear her correctly? She wanted to be with him?

“I- I’m sorry, I can’t be with you.”

“WHAT?!? BUT I BROKE UP WITH MY BOYFRIEND JUST TO BE WITH YOU!”

“Well I’m sorry, but I love someone else. You should’ve consulted me before you threw away your relationship.”

Did you hear HIM correctly? He loves someone? You couldn’t take it anymore and excused yourself. Yet again, you ran to the bathroom feeling the same pain in your chest only 10 times worse. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore. Not like this.

THREE “I can’t believe you’re moving to California, Y/n” Karl says as he pushes his hair back, sighing in disbelief. “You’re really going to leave me?” He continues, tears welling up in his eyes as he turns to look at you with his signature puppy eyes.

“I have to! It’s always been my dream to go to college there!” You reply, feeling guilty for leaving behind everything for your dream.

“But I’ll miss you!” he says, fully knowing facetime exists, and you would always visit him during breaks.

“I’ll miss you too! But, I need to do this. Can you stay strong? For me?” you ask, cupping his face with your left hand. You had gone on one of your late night drives again, parking in an empty parking lot as you have deep late night conversations. Today’s topic happened to be college, and while it had been always known you were moving across the country after high school, the day was coming closer and it all felt too real.

As Karl leans his face into your hand, he lets out a yawn. “I guess it’s time to go back then.” you say.

“No, I don’t want to. I have to spend every second with you until you leave.” he whines. You wanted to as well, but then, there it was. The stinging in the back of your heart. You were tired of it. You hated feeling this way. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore.

THE END The warm summer air blew past you as you and Karl sit atop your roof, staring into the distance in the comfortable silence that was there from the moment Karl got to your house. Neither of you had spoken a word but neither of you cared. You just wanted to be with him. What would’ve made the night perfect was if you weren’t getting on the plane the very next morning, moving across the country.

Building up as much courage as you could, you said the three words you’ve been wanting to say ever since you had become friends. You were leaving, but before that you wanted more than anything else to let him know this. “I love you.” You say, causing his eyes to go wide. You… loved him? That was impossible.

“Yeah, I love you too.” He says casually.

“No. I love you more than in a friendly way.” You reply.

“Really? Why?” He asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was because you were my first friend, but it’s definitely because you’re you. I’ve been bullied almost my whole life, and you know that. But, no matter how the world brings me down, and even when hurtful words stab me, I can smile again. Because you’re there.” You say, tears rolling down your face. You pause, before continuing on about how much he means to you. “I mean, my whole life, one moment I feel like I’m nothing at all. Like no one would notice if I were gone. But then you came! And I was so happy. Or maybe it’s cause you make me feel loved. But when I’m with you, I feel so special.”

And with that, Karl makes no hesitation in cupping your cheeks, silently wiping away your tears. In that moment, he decides that he doesn't want to be your friend anymore either. Leaning in, he whispers, “I love you too.” before he crashes his lips onto yours.

#karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs fic #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fluff #mcyt angst #karl x reader #karl fluff #karl jacobs fluff #mcyt x reader #best friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #mcyt au #mcytumblr #mcyt fic

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notmuchtoconceal · 11 months ago

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when he was a young man still taken by the splendors of life, he saw himself most fit to be in the receipt of a dimwitted and eager young gent who would see fit to sell himself into voluntary servitude as his gimp slave. a gimp slave, you understand -- was quite distinct from a fag.

a gimp slave, though containing undertones of inferiority, is more properly about the full grublike sensory apparatus of immersion in the material, which the sophisticated mind content with higher pleasures intuitively regards (but needn't find pleasure in saying aloud) as pathetic, and so alleviating oneself of that burden forthwith ;-- what one is left with is simply creative pleasure in the contemplation of the material with a fellow who craves the sweetness of your brutality, the comfort of his yoke to you, and the necessities (now and forever) of your deprivation.

i had appreciated the bravery and transparency of pure souls who looked upon me and forgot their own meagerness in squalor long enough to ;-- did not burden me with their piteousness so branzenly enough ;-- to allow me to simply contemplate their loveliness, meager as it may have been -- as an expression of the divinity of all things being revealed to me now in the spontaneity of our meeting and what it in turns reveals.

your revealing yourself to me. slowly, with a coyness you regard as something less than the stilted theater of a first-time whore doe-eyed off her own delusions of beguilement, bobbing your head that you may be wrapped, may be covered, may be veiled ;-- reduced and elevated to my possession as-is fitting your puerile material fascinations. snug and packaged, properly labeled so you can be used and discarded. you would surrender your mind to become more like dead and pliable matter for my amusement, gimp bitch. your duties will be manifold and splendid.

my statue. my furniture. my urinal. my fuckhole. i can even have you trained as a beast of burden. get you nice and bulky in your rubbers.

why would i promise you all you could ever dream, when thus far you have no concept of all the things you could dream ;-- i not having stretched your mind's eye wide enough to dream them?

kiss his speedo, loser bator

#lycra prison #pucker up

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

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The Brothers and Side Characters Play Ticket To Ride

Guess who just had a family game night and decided this would be a good idea? Meeeeee!

Last Minute Road/Track Buyer (Lucifer)

This smug son of a bitch doesn’t even complete his trip cards. He just amasses a massive deck of cards and then buys all of the five and six roads, effectively messing up everyone’s strategies.

Luci would have a good poker face if it weren’t for how giddy he gets when he sees the hope drain from his opponents faces as he takes the coveted fifteen point six road.

His main colour is black because he’s an emo bitch.

Lucifer can and Lucifer will take that two road you need to connect your trains, thus ruining everyone’s lives.

He basks in the chaos and rage like a god before Beel tells him that he’s eaten all the game night chips.

He’ll win sometimes, but his lack of trip cards will often be his downfall. Lucifer is just here to fuck everyone over.

FUCK YOU! DON’T YOU DARE TAKE THAT CARD- (Mammon)

Mammon’s greedy little heart sank when he heard that Monopoly had been passed over for family game night, but he caught onto the rules of Ticket to Ride very quickly.

Being the gambler he is, Mammon’s poker face is completely god-tier… except when he has all the cards needed to make his road or someone else takes the cards he needs.

Levi is often the main culprit and fights have started over this.

He argues with the rules a lot if he thinks they’re stupid, this gives Satan a migraine.

Mammon doesn’t save his cards, the moment he has all the ones he needs, he’s buying his road, which is good at the beginning, but often leads to him ending up with no cards by the end.

He is SO insufferable when he wins, please beat him so we don’t have to hear him gloat like an asshole.

Rule-Whore (Leviathan)

“That’s against the rules!” “You can’t have more than three wild cards in the draw pile!” “You need to take three trip cards!”

…so annoying…

Levi is such a rule whore he’ll try and take the instructions from Satan, which will usually result in Levi getting socked in the jaw.

He mains blue because obviously.

Levi tends to plan out his route ahead of time, but he makes it too obvious and his roads end up getting sniped, thus rendering all the cards he had amassed completely useless.

He gets super iffy about his trains being in perfect formation both on and off the board.

Beat his ass for being annoying.

Ha! I’ve Planned for This- Aw Fuck…(Satan)

You fool, you stupid human, Satan had planned out his route ten years before the first turn even happened!

All he has to do now is- DID LUCIFER JUST SNIPE HIS FUCKING ROAD?!

…he’s cool, he’s calm. He can work around this. Satan just has to get the cards he needs- SON OF A BITCH MAMMON WHY’D YOU TAKE BOTH THE ORANGES?!

Worried about your asshole fellow players not giving you your points? Fret not, Satan has everyone’s points memorized and will adjust accordingly. He’s winning this fair and square.

Satan manages to win pretty frequently solely because he picks up so many trip cards and completes a good chunk of them.

Satan mains green because I said so.

Annoying Spectator (Asmodeus)

For the love of God Asmo, you aren’t even playing! Shut up and go away!

He leans over people’s shoulders and criticizes their choices like the world’s most annoying guardian angel… or demon.

“Pick up red.” “Asmo, piss off.” “I’m just trying to help, Belphie! Look, Mammon’s gone and taken your road!” “I DIDN’T EVEN NEED THAT ONE!”

When Asmo does play, he doesn’t play well at all, he just has the worst luck with cards and has the worst poker face.

If someone just took a card that Asmo needed, they are going to get glared at from across the table.

Almost never wins, but when he does, he’s INSUFFERABLE.

“It’s so nice to have the family together :)” (Beel)

Sweet man is just happy everyone’s together, he’s also happy about the multiple party size bags of chips that are on the table.

Beel builds his roads from point A to point B, no fancy skipping or strategies. This often serves him quite well because he can just shift where he’s going on the fly.

Though, he does get confused on where some of the locations are, he’ll end up accidentally cheating and looking at people’s cards when he leans over to see the whole board to try and find out where TF he’s going.

He tries to complete every trip card he has, and he mostly succeeds at that, buuuuut he never thinks to pick up more, which is his downfall.

He mains red, because Duh.

Overall, Beel’s a surprisingly formidable opponent, his resting bitch face serves him well.

“*Snrk* H-huh? What the fuck… what’d I knock over? Where am I? Whose turn is it?” (Belphie)

This little shit- THIS LITTLE BASTARD FUCKS EVERYTHING UP. He falls asleep and when anyone wakes him up for his turn, he “accidentally” knocks everyone’s trains off the board.

He’s doing terribly. Don’t help him.

Belphie loses motivation the moment someone ruins his carefully formulated plan, and making a new one’s too much work so… *snore*

He takes what he can get with the trip cards, he’ll complete the smaller ones and kind of eyeball the big ones and make it up as he goes along if everything goes to shit.

If Belphie gets bored, he’ll purposefully break the rules just to piss of Levi and Satan. He’s a little goblin…

Belphie wins when he puts the work in… which is never.

…Wait what? (Diavolo)

Diavolo is literally the worst at this game at first. He’s picking up two wild cards when he’s not supposed to, he’s buying roads when it’s not his turn, he somehow messed up the points, ugh…

He gets really confused about the rules, he’ll often interrupt people mid-turn to ask a question that spirals into a long explanation.

But when he finally understands the game… May the demon king have mercy on your souls…

He goes from zero to hero and crushes everyone without fail.

It doesn’t matter if he had shitty luck in the beginning because he’s come back to completely ruin your entire route.

Oh, Solomon needed that road? Too bad. It belongs to Diavolo now. Give him his fucking points.

Peace between the realms can wait, he’s got noobs to pwn.

The Wise Mentor (Barbatos)

Barbatos can see the future, he’s cheating by default.

When he sort of… turns off his powers, people still think he’s cheating because he’s just that good at guessing where people need to go and crushing their hopes and dreams.

Except for Luke. Barbatos is teaching him how to be as brutal a player as he is. He will not crush Luke.

As good a player as Barbatos is, one bad trip card will crush his entire strategy. This may be the one time you hear him swear.

It’s a very quiet “son of a bitch..”

Cheater. Asshole. Fight instigator. (Solomon)

Okay who the fuck invited this guy?

Better question, who the fuck let him be in charge of the cards?

Solomon cheats and lies about it, all with a smile on his face. Think you caught him? No you didn’t.

He peeks at cards before he grabs them, gives people the worst possible ones for what they’re doing, AND he gets potato chip grease all over the cards!

When he’s no my allowed to cheat, Solomon’s only half decent at the game overall. Luck is usually on his side, but sometimes luck isn’t enough.

0/10 kick his shifty ass out.

“No, stop,” *Pulls out popcorn* “Don’t fight, oh no.” (Simeon)

Fucking Simeon… he sits back and watches the fight even though he knows he can stop it.

When he’s playing the actual game, he’s pretty average, but when he gets on a roll, oh boy…

He doesn’t snipe roads on purpose, but he’s gotta get where he’s going. Sorry not sorry, may the good lord bless your loser ass.

Sexy shoulder-man’s poker face isn’t anything special, it’s 5/7 overall.

Simeon’s fatal flaw is that he picks up cards only when he needs them, he doesn’t plan ahead, so it’s super easy to swipe the cards he needs before his turn.

He is nice enough to move everyone’s points for them^.^ so he’s better than the rest of those dirty sinners.

“NO PLEASE I NEED THAT ROAD-” (Luke)

So you know how everyone is an awful person? This is proven whenever the gang plays Ticket to Ride with Luke.

Luke demands/begs that no one takes the roads he needs and almost no one listens.

It’s heartbreaking to watch please give the little angel a hug.

But listen, listen, after a bit, Luke gets scary good at the game and very close to winning. His little victory dance is so fucking cute 10/10.

But oh my… it appears that Luke has one tiny road he needs to connect his trains… it would be a shame if Lucifer just… took that.

Luke gets petty, he just puts his hand over the spot and refuses to move it. This goes on for like five minutes until Levi brings up that it’s not even Lucifer’s turn.

Gasp! Hope! It’s Solomon’s turn- HE TOOK THE FUCKING ROAD.

…betrayal.

Luke’s moving out. He can’t go back to Purgatory Hall. He’s going to become the little Victorian street urchin he was destined to become. He is packing his little rucksack and fleeing from this household.

————

I love family game nights… all of you should get together with your family and your squad and break out some board games. Just not Monopoly. Anything but Monopoly…

#obey me #Obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Diavolo #Obey Me Barbatos #Obey me Solomon #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Luke

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theotheroccassionalfanficwriter · 3 years ago

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Between Lust and Love 2/?

Summary: You are standing on a bridge enjoying the view; Someone’s watching you from a balcony. The moon adorns your window; You adorn someone else’s dream. (Fragments, Bian Zhilin)

Rated E for explicit description of Zhongli’s wet dream

A/N: implied semi-public 3some

Chapter 2: I Adorn Your Dreams

The gentle and almost reverent touch of your fingertips as it ghosted through the skin of his chest was enough for Zhongli to be drunk on. The usually kept and proper funeral parlor consultant was lounging atop of his soft bed, his outer coat was left lying on the floor, his vest unbuttoned along with his white shirt. You sat between his legs, crawling on top of him with a sultry look in your eyes.

The tent of his pants was noticeable, and Zhongli knew that he would not be able to remove the stain of his precum as your other hand lightly touched his groin, all the while smiling like a vixen as you placed kisses on his stomach slowly making your way up, each touch of your lip sent an electric shot down his spine, making his cock ache for you. And yet he made no move to hasten you, he waited for you to serve yourself to him, an arrogance well-deserved for a man—nay, a god like Zhongli.

The way the soft orange light of his room illuminated you brought out your sensual side, the kind of eroticism that only existed between lovers found in stories, the red color of your hanfu was enough to make Zhongli think that this was the bridal chamber, and you were his eager newly wedded wife. The redness of your plump lips as it hovered before his lips tempted him to grab a hold of you, pressing your groin against his as he captured your lips. And that was what Zhongli did, the sudden friction caused by his hard cock that was pressing itself against your wet groin made you moan.

Opening your mouth wide enough for Zhongli to slip his tongue in and devour you, like a parched dragon finding a sweet oasis after a drought. Your sweet moans as your body surrendered itself to him only drew to make him want you more. Your clothes were removed from your body as Zhongli’s large hands explored the smooth expanse of your skin, he paid a particular attention to your chest, groping it and teasing it in the exact same way he had seen Childe done. His mouth had moved itself from your mouth to your neck biting and kissing as he listened to the melody of your moans.

The broken call for his name as one hand groped your chest and the other gently caressed your thighs, sliding it open to rub your wet pussy easier against his hard cock. Your slick had drenched his pants and Zhongli let out a soft grunt of pleasure as you began to move your hips on your own.

His tied up hair was left undone, making it fall to the side and frame his face as he laid you on the bed, gently kissing your lips and committing into memory the taste of your sweetness.

“Zhongli…” Your sweet voice called him and he smiled, you were such a sight to behold.

Your flushed face, coupled with tears that gathered at the edges of your eyes made his heart burn, the rapid rise and fall of your chest from the lust only made his cock harden further.

“Shhhhh” He comforted you as he placed a gentle kiss between your breasts before leaving a mark. He stood up and freed his hard cock from its confines, delighting at the way you drooled at the sight of it.

“Please...put it in already…” You begged, the innocent begging coupled with your lewd action of spreading your legs further apart and using your own fingers to spread your own pussy brought a tantalizing erotic sight that spurred him on.

“Anything for you” Zhongli replied as he grabbed his dick and slowly entered your wet pussy.

You moaned and your body arched as you felt his tip slowly enter, and then all at once you were filled with his thick and long cock, your toes curled in pleasure as you felt him move slowly before finding the perfect rhythm that made your mind melt from the amount of pleasure he was giving you.

The soft moans you let out, with the occasional broken call of his name made Zhongli pleased. He fucked you like the whore that you were, hands leaving bruises on your thighs with each hard and fast thrust he gave to your squelching pussy.

“Zhongli—I—!” You came from one of his particularly hard thrusts, your pussy squeezing his cock so good that Zhongli came inside you. Spilling his thick white seed inside your pretty and glistening cavern. His eyes were closed from the pleasure of fucking you, the feel of your cunt and the sound of his name as you moaned appeased his inhuman side.

Zhongli let himself rest for a few moments before opening his eyes, to an empty room, devoid of you and any evidence of the lascivious deeds you had done together with him. The soft morning chirps of the birds outside his bedroom window, and the sizable stain in front of his sleeping robe made him pensive.

Zhongli sighed, and closed his eyes before opening it again.

“How am I going to face them today?”

While Zhongli pondered on his own day, neither you nor Childe were doing nothing. You were doing commissions for both the Mondstadt and Liyue Adventurer’s Guild while Childe was collecting information to prove your claim of Zhongli’s inhumanity.

Though you both knew that the Adventurer’s Guild was a strict non-partisan guild that held no ties to any of the nations of Teyvat, Childe also knew that it was an open secret within the Adventurer’s Guild HeadQuarters that you took private commissions.

Commissions that were illegal in nature, ones that were almost no different from the ones the Northland Bank occasionally did. So it hadn’t surprised the new recruits that you were to lead them for the day, Childe made no secret of his ties with you, though both you and him kept your romantic entanglement under strict wraps, that the two of you knew each other from birth was not unknown to those who knew to ask.

Your strength and undeniable mastery of your Cryo vision also led to the awe of the new recruits that was lent to you. It made your job considerably easier, more so since you were collecting information on the events that took place in Mondstadt, the Honorary Knight and the Dragon.

You knew how the Fatui worked, there was no reason why La Signora and Scaramouche would linger in the vicinity of Liyue. The Tsaritsa made sure to never let her Harbingers gather in one place for too long.

‘Signora should have left after taking the Gnosis, there’s no reason for her to stay here this long and in hiding unlike Scaramouche’ You thought as you coldly watched over the recruits practice in Sal Terrae, ‘Scaramouche has been stationed here to prepare for Inazuma...there’s no reason for the two to linger, not when the entire plan has been ironed out.’

“Good job, Men!” You praised them, facade easily taking over your serious face “Lord Tartaglia would be pleased to know this particular batch of recruits are talented.”

Your smile turned sweeter upon seeing their pleased and puppy-like enthusiasm, “I’ll be sure to tell him that you lot are worthy of a spar for him.”

“““Thank you, Lady Columbina!!!”””

You hummed as you looked in the direction of the dawn winery, the cogs of your brain turning, ‘Unless there’s another plan...one that my darling Tartaglia was not made aware of…’

As you played with this thought, the more likely it seemed, “Well then, as good as your battle prowess is, the Fatui must also be discreet in its dealings…”

The recruits listened attentively, standing straight as you walked between their ranks, inspecting them with the cat-like glimmer in your eye. You were living up to your fame as an S-class adventurer, you continued as you stopped behind them, smiling in the direction of Mondstadt and its repurposed castle walls, “For your next training, infiltrate Mondstadt without alerting your fellow Fatui and the Lord Harbinger assigned to it.”

You paused at their silence, “Ah, hesitating? How smart”

Their unease could be felt in the air, and you couldn’t fault them. You weren’t a Fatui, you were just someone who was strong enough to work exclusively with one of their harbingers.

“Face to the left!Face!” You barked at them, and they did so, “Face to the left! Face!”

You smiled at them once they were facing you, and yet the recruits could tell that despite the smile on your face, you weren’t smiling at all. You invoked a certain fear and awe, one that reminded them of Her Majesty’s Ever Winter.

“Lord Tartaglia would be pleased to know that this bunch of recruits can think for themselves…” You dropped your smile and leveled them a cold look, “Don’t worry, this training was meticulously planned by our beloved Lord Harbinger, Tartaglia.”

It was a lie but no one needed to know that.

“You have three days to prepare for the training mission, once you’ve decided on how to infiltrate Mondstadt, report to Ekatrina of the Northland Bank. You’ll be given your funds and then be dispatched.”

You left them and began your trek back to Liyue, Mondstadt’s wind gently blowing through your hair. You felt your good mood coming back,

‘Ah~Today would be a good day.’

There were a few things in his life that brought him great unease, for Childe one of them was being subjected to your displeasure, the other was being on the receiving end of Zhongli-xiansheng’s unfathomable stare. And right now he was experiencing both, Childe cursed himself for forgetting his schedule.

He knew of your suspicions towards Zhongli, and he also knew that you understood Zhongli was necessary to achieve the Tsaritsa’s goals. He was lucky in that regard, you knew how to draw a clear line between your professional and personal life. It was one of the reasons why he had pursued a relationship with you. Beyond the love and bond forged from the harsh winter of Snezhnaya, whether he was Tartaglia, Childe or Ajax, the one thing constant among his identities was his love for you.

Which was why he had always done his best to make you happy, ensuring that you would live a comfortable and carefree life. It was the least he could do for being the way he was.

“My dear—”

“Mr. Zhongli, I know how lovely my Childe is but there’s no reason for you to intrude on our date.”

“Actually I’m—”

“Yes, our Childe is certainly a lovely individual, however our lunch appointment had already been scheduled prior to your arrival.”

“Xiansheng, I’ll buy you whatever you—”

“Oh? You’ve booked my Childe for lunch for his entire stay here in Liyue?”

“That-Darling it isn’t set in stone so—”

“Yes, after all is he not the diplomat sent over by the Tsaritsa herself?” Zhongli smirked, it was an uncharacteristic sight for him. One Childe hardly ever saw unless the man had solved a particularly interesting puzzle or problem.

Childe glanced at you and saw the hard look in your eyes, bit by bit the cogs of his brain turning rapidly as he pieced together your revelation and the information he had gathered over the course of the morning. Slowly the fog was lifting and the bigger picture was slowly becoming clearer.

He didn’t really understand what was happening yet but Childe trusted you, even though the churning of his gut was unpleasant... he could and easily stowed the unpleasant feeling away.

“Xiansheng.”

Zhongli turned and found himself the recipient of Childe’s charming smile, one devoid of any honesty. It was his business smile, often directed to the bank’s clients or in one particular case the Liyue Qixing.

“We’ve known each other for a while now,” Childe began as his hand reached for his teacup, “You aren’t the type to push something unless it was important.”

Zhongli could feel the temperature in the air change, and privately thanked Childe’s foresight to book a private room. On the other side of the table, you sat with your back straight and deceptively relaxed as you poured Childe his tea.

“Yes” Zhongli admitted as he stared at the floating tea leaves on his cup of green tea, he lifted his head to stare straight in Childe’s blue eyes, “I would like to offer a contract between you, your lover, and me.”

Childe blinked, his eyes staring at the odd glow in Zhongli’s eyes, one oddly reminiscent of a beast. A warrior.

‘Adepti’ his mind whispered.

Childe wasn’t aware but the slow lift of his mouth, curving into a smile carried no trace of humanity, it was a smile that reminded Zhongli of the height of the Archon Wars. It was a captivating smile that took Zhongli’s breath away.

‘Ah, I really want both of them right now.’

Once lunchtime was over, the streets of Liyue was ripe with new gossip. In particular, involving the esteemed gentleman of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, the consultant Mr. Zhongli, the Childe of Northland Bank, and the S-Class Adventurer from Snezhnaya.

The three had left Liuli Pavillion, you and Childe were flanking Zhongli, attached on either side of him in a suggestive way. That you had left both Childe and him with a kiss on the cheek only served to fuel the confusion. No one knew what had occured over the private room of Liuli Pavillion but the barely noticeable mark on Zhongli’s neck and the slightly disheveled look of your clothes and Childe’s knowing grin left much to imagination.

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#zhongli x reader #zhongli x childe x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x childe #R-18

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thegremlincrowsnest · 4 years ago

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Porn Idea #548

Aizawa/Hizashi/Reader

I’ll be posting this to AO3 after some final editing but I was too impatient to share it with you guys!

CW: Afab language, daddy is said, double penetration, anal, Cernunnos just being a really horny mofo You're a new art teacher, married to a fellow teacher, Shouta Aizawa, the history teacher. You started working with him a few months ago, part-time, after finishing some freelance gigs and wanting a change of pace for a while. It was nice working with your partner and teaching a new group of students to love the arts as you do. However, Shouta slowly gets jealous of how often you innocently flirt with the music teacher Hizashi Yamada and the gym teacher Toshinori Yagi. From there, that’s when he starts picking up some of his old gang behavior, wanting to claim you and make sure no one messes with what’s his. Hizashi definitely tests him by letting his hands linger on your back or shoulders when Shouta is watching. Hizashi was his old second in command from back in the day. He casually speaks in code to Shouta even when you're present. Whenever he was at your house, he lets his hands slide up your thigh or play with the elastic band of your short shorts. He would snap them, chuckling at your squeals and keeping eye contact with Shouta as he says, “Careful, my dear, don’t want to fuel the thoughts of wolves that hunger for you.” All you can do is blush and not fully understanding the weird vibe they’re giving off to each other but doesn’t question it.

After Hizashi makes that wolf comment what Shouta goes, “Well, I don’t think there are any wolves brave enough to bite what’s mine....” to try and push Hizashi to the edge. Of course, Hizashi rises to the challenge, pulling you back against him, his arms wrapping around you while he looks at your lover, saying, “And what if there was a wolf brave enough?” Shouta walks up, pressing close to your front as you Y/N.exe stopped working as you were sandwiched between two men who have some history. “W-would anyone like some lemonade? Hizashi let his hands trail down your sides, digging his fingers into the top of your thighs. “The only thing I’m thirsty is for you, darling,” Shouta growls at that and leans in to say, “Hizashi...if you wanted me to fuck you senseless again, you didn’t need to tease my partner like this,” to which Hizashi smirks and grabs your throat, tilting your head upwards, saying, “What if I want both?” Shouta chuckles, moving your head back and leaning in to kiss you softly, asking, “What do you think, my love?”

You’re in heaven blushing and letting them handle you like some prized possession. Hizashi just smiles and lets his hands slide back up over your breast. Chuckling at the small noises you make. “You picked a perfect one as always, Shouta.” Then finally, you snap out of it a little and weasels your way out with a chuckle. “L-let me get that lemonade for you boys”“Oh no, you don’t....don’t avoid my question, baby,” Shouta would say as he grabs your wrist to pull you back in. Pushing you to his chest and wrapping an arm around your waist to pin you against his throbbing cock. “I want to know what you think of Hizashi here...eating you out while I pound this ass...”

Hizashi moans at the suggestion, holding onto your hips and grinding his own dick against your ass. “Don’t tease me with a good time like that, baby...” Hizashi moans in your ear; you could only moan softly and lean into them. Your eyelids drooped, and you press your ass against Hizashi some more. “I-I’d like that a lot, Sir.... mmmm, I think Hizashi is quite handsome, and I-I wouldn’t mind him eating me out if you’d allow it.” The scent of their cologne mixed together made you dizzy. You had to press your thighs together to prevent any of your juices from dripping onto the carpet. The two boys share a look. It was only for a moment, but it’s almost as if they had a full conversation. Because before you could register what’s about to happen, Hizashi chuckles and turns you around, pinning you to the counter, standing in front of you while he leans down to grab the counter by your sides. “You think I’m handsome, baby? Even with your sexy husband around?” He teases, leaning in to kiss your neck. His fingers slipping down to play with the hem of your shorts. You squealed and ran your hands through his hair. “Ohh~ I mean, I’ve always thought you both were very sexy,” you say as you switched from looking at him to Shouta. you rubbed your thighs together and whimpered at the intensity of his gaze. “Fuck boys, if you’re just gonna tease me, I’ll just leave then~” Shouta grabs your neck tightly. Turning you to face him as Hizashi drops to his knees. “Do you really think you could leave right now, baby....” he stares into your eyes. “Your job is to feed the hungry men in this house. And you have two to satisfy,” he says as he leans in to kiss you, wanting to devour you now but knowing the best is yet to come.

Meanwhile, Hizashi chuckles while he pushes your thighs apart, enjoying the view. “How could you leave when you’re a mess like this?~” he teases as he runs a finger through your pretty wet lips “what do you want me to do about it?”You couldn’t help but squeal as you came. Squirting onto Hizashis face as your thighs quivered and your back arched, blushing furiously. “Oh god...I-I’m so sorry Hizashi...t-this has never happened before. I’m so embarrassed.” Your heart pounded as you looked up between Shouta and him, expecting a laugh or look of disgust. ”Well, that was a first. Fucking hot, that’s what it was,” They say to one another. With a primal growl, Hizashi roughly spreads your thighs open and dives in to devour you. His tongue teasing your entrance as he takes the time to also suck on your clit. Shouta gets stunned for a moment before giving a low chuckle, “who knew my darling love had more tricks up your sleeve?” He says all sweet as he then rips the front of your shorts open, “if you’re gonna act like a whore you should look like one.” You threw your head back and moaned loudly again. “Fuck yes, I’m a whore~ a cock drunk whore! Jesus that feels so good~” you tugged his hair gently as you looked to Shouta. “Please, sirs have your way with me...I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. “In that case....” Shouta pushes Hizashis’s face away from your cunt and lifts you up, to then roughly toss your ass up onto the kitchen table “in that case, well, eat you up till there’s nothing left.” Shouta spreads your legs open by kicking your feet apart, and after he lets his erection out, he slaps it onto your ass. “Beg bitch”. Meanwhile, Hizashi strips and moves to stand in front of your mouth. His dick sliding across your pouty lips. You squeal and push back to try and grind against his cock. “Fuck me, sir~ please fill me up and use me!” You licks against Hizashis’s cock gently before opening your mouth for him, looking up at him with a soft whine. Pushing back, almost sliding Shouta’s cock into you, but he groans softly as he pulls back. “God, I need you both inside me so bad~” You moan out. “What do you think, Hizashi?” Shouta teases, letting his cock rut gently against your lips, not giving you the friction you desire just yet. “Aren’t they beautiful?” He asks while his hand caresses your ass and slaps it occasionally. Enjoying the moans coming from your lips. “I agree with that,” Hizashi says as his breathing gets heavy, holding onto your chin and letting his thumb run across your bottom lip. His cock throbbing against your cheek. “But I think we both know how to make them look even prettier,” he taunts. Looking up to Shouta. In silent understanding, ignoring your begging, they both ram their cocks into you fully at the same time. Shouta grabs onto your hips and fucks you slowly, while Hizashi holds onto your head. You could only squeal as they began to use you; looking up at Hizashi, he swore your pupils turned to hearts as they fucked you. Drool and precum began to drip from your lips as you push back against Shouta, clenching around him and grinding against his hips. Slowly you move your hands onto Hizashis hips, gripping them as you helped him fuck your throat. You squealed and moaned helplessly, in pure bliss at the two men ravaging you like an animal. The men moan and grunt as they thrust into you. Shouta makes sure to slap your ass to keep you moaning underneath him. “You like that, huh you whore? Being treated like a cocksleeve just for us?” Hizashi moans at that even. His hands running down your chest to pull and pinch your nipples. “If you want more slut you’re gonna need to make us cum. That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it?” Hizashi says. You pull back and jerks Hizashis’s cock as you whimper. “Fuck, if you let me ride you both, I’ll be able to show you want I really can do~” clenching around Shouta, bouncing against him slowly. You look up at Hizashi with big eyes as you say. “Don’t you wanna fuck my ass Hizashi~” Hizashis knees buckle a bit at that suggestion. He looks from your messy face to Shouta’s with pleading eyes. Well, who is he to say no? He pulls out of your pussy and takes a step back. He twists you around to lay on your back and pushes your feet towards your head “hold onto your ankles, baby.” With a giddy smile, you do as your told, holding your ankles to your head. “I’m ready~” He smirks down at you as he slides his cock into your pussy, moaning appreciatively as he does so. And then he wraps his arms around you to lift you up, clutching you against him. Without missing a beat, Hizashi comes up behind you. Kissing the back of your neck and sliding a finger into your ass to get you ready for him. You let go of your legs, allowing them to hang off of his shoulders. Whimpering softly, you nuzzle into him as you feel Hizashis’s fingers. Desperately wanting to grind against those fingers and the cock deep inside you groaning in frustration. “More~ please more!” Hizashi smirks, bringing his hips to your ass, massaging your cheeks with his fingers. “What are we to do with such a naughty kitten like you?” He teases, slapping your ass roughly. “Already so full of cock but wanting more...” he pushes his tip against your tight entrance. Shouta tilts your chin up to kiss you, “I guess we need to punish them then by filling them up. You can’t leave the house if you’re full of cum.” He says. You could only whimper as you felt him press against your entrance “H-Hizashi, don’t be a tease anh!” You said as you tried to push back. Hearing Shouta say they’ll fill you up sent you into a spiral. Shivering and squirting on his cock you whimpered. “Yes! F-fill me up, please!~ I’ll be a good Kitten.” you babbled on as you felt your mind slipping. "Tsk tsk making such a mess..." Shouta says. "Looks like it’s time to plug them up~" Hizashi continues for him, thrusting his full length inside your ass. The two of them thrust at different times, constantly changing the pressure inside of you. They both lean into the sides of your head, Hizashi giving you praise while Shouta continues to degrade you. You couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your lips as you were filled. Threading a hand through Hizashis hair, you leaned back. “So good~ you guys make me feel so good,” you moan softly. You can feel the beginnings of small bruises on your hips and thighs but accepted them fully. Your holes leak and throbbed around the two cocks inside of you. Then you had a wonderful idea “C-come on, Shouta~ Don’t want Hizashi to outdo you.” Hizashi chuckles at that. “Am I making you feel that good baby?” He says as he looks Shouta in the eyes. Continuing, he says, “Make you feel so good you wanna be bred on my cock? Make you full with my cum to have my babies?” This makes Shouta possessively growl and slap your ass “who are you to be making such claims bitch?” He then grabs onto your throat to slightly choking you. “you will cum on my dick, and you will enjoy it. Like the cock whore you are. Be bred.” You moan softly at the feeling of his hand. Then smirks when you say, “Make me~” you loved pushing his buttons and seeing how far you can take him. “Make me, or else I’ll ask Hizashi to hold me up while he fucks my ass in your face.” You clenched around their cocks as you felt Shouta growl and thrust faster. Hizashis hands move up to pinch and pull your nipples, reaching down to rub your clit as he keeps slowly fucking your ass. In return, he tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers pushing deep onto your muscles, forming bruises that will be visible all week long. He was going slow to be nice and match Hizashi in your ass, but if you wanted to be a brat like this, he’d treat you like the ragdoll you want to be. He growls and starts moving you on his cock and thrusting faster and deeper into you. “Looks like I need to remind you who’s in charge here, kitten....” he leans in and marks up your neck as he says, “If you behave and tighten up, maybe I’ll fill you up like you’ve wanted.” Your eyes crossed as you squealed, “yes, daddy~ fuck, please fill me up. I want your babies!” Your resolve faded as you felt his cock hit against your womb entrance. Hizashi chuckled and started speeding up as well, making your body shiver. “H-harder, please, daddy fucking put me in my place, please!” You say as your pussy tightens up around them both. You reach down to rub your clit as you watch his cock disappear inside of you. He grins and keeps this pace, making sure every thrust into your sloppy pussy hits you deep. “Look at this whore, playing with their clit while we fill them up, Hizashi....” he teases and smirks at the blonde “what do you suggest we do?” Hizashi also smirks and leans in to kiss your shoulder, picking up his pace to match Shouta’s. “I think we need to fill them up for days....that sound like a good idea?” He grins and keeps this pace, making sure every thrust into your sloppy pussy hits her deep. “Yes, yes, fill me up! Fuck I want your cum so fucking bad~” you lean back and pull Hizashis’s face close. Kissing him deeply as your other hand cups Shouta’s cheek. “I feel so good~ god, you’re both so fucking thick~,” you say as you feel them throb deep inside of you. It’s a nice sight, seeing the two of them kiss. Not that he’ll admit it for now. But he knows he’s getting there. He leans his head on her shoulder and focuses on how soft and wet and warm you are. God, he can get lost in you for hours. You’re gonna look so good full of his kids. Over and over. “God baby, I’m gonna fill you up...” he moans, shuddering as he thrusts fully into you and filling you up with his cum. You hold onto him tight as you feel him cum deep inside. You whimper softly and bite down on his shoulder as you cum as well. You feel Hizashi stop and look back, confused. “What’s wrong?” You ask cutely. He helps Shouta pull out before thrusting into your pussy cumming as well. He groans and rubs your clit softly, helping you through another orgasm. “Oh god~ I’m so full~ fuck daddy, it feels so good” Well shit...that was a surprise. Shouta thought, but you look so happy being full, so it’s okay for now. Carefully he and Hizashi get you to sit on the couch. More so, sitting on a combination of their laps. Their hands and kisses soft on your skin, helping to soothe you. “What a good kitten you are, baby...” Shouta praises you, “maybe we need to have guests over more often.”

#aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #present mic smut #present mic x reader #aizawa x reader x present mic #bnha smut #bnha x reader #Cernunnos Writings

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libidomechanica · 11 months ago

Text

Untitled Composition # 10976

A ballad sequence

Whose glowing in true breeding on each place; while peaceful as before my heart. Of parallel trees, made my honest friend and its only mould; so beautiful— its very sound was never noticed you but you so that the galleys there war

and peace, that never heart, and its spokes fell. Till each too much good claret set before my enfranchised hands. Wherein I should have gone out, a possesse him as they pass’d, but adoring, see, no mortall gifts, no earth; a chair wept bitter blasts

of water on your love! My shippe vnwont in stormes, his honor, or his despair, I shoulder, with you. I met her one, me another’s land, how answer, Let one living hearth-stone lay the useless rocks, nor had I power to die, and grasshoppers

seek out thy braver at night; dreaming halls of morn. Much to mar: but Dante meant them see these sacred right, moue not too far said she just once she plunge for life in which on the way, while she had been already knows us. Take thou of

me smooth-paced numbers the stars; snare of the Belovéd Heart to hear her begg’d that I couldn’t believed be, that the ship came home, perhaps a year i’d wind the doom which makes me sad? You are destined to re-assure his the act of loue in

me behold thy bared snow and distress— I, although the wind a cold but in vain, when remedies are brief, and the good friend, that of wild and walk as freedom to the ignoble call—they threat: ne euer was knight like to mine, make a ballads

o’ertake me travel in it. Making the departed as its clasp—a glowing fires. Over the burning with damask flowers, and round the breeches. Sommer times a day. Haunting ’mong Graemes of straw chequer double rent. Thy beautiful

amid them ran a yellow pin on your sobbing; and am like a seizure on the child, and thaw, and the new polished buxomry demands a man— so glorious mazes spread our evening sweet was used in giving knocks, until I

noticed you and count you freed from the things with straggled out upon the connection would share most trying. Rolling graceless shore, that severs all. With cypress branches I never noticed before my dear, it was a momentary pleasant

sunshine interposed; pleasant fellow man—the moor, where he might own. Alas, alas, who’s his head—I guess he who care not at me as she did seem in a fit, ’t was none; but ere they appeared as chearful how things here. Of fragrant-

curtain’d love called teares, now with your holy ayde, with weeds and wound with me, that made and that Woman’s suff’rings, and fall, Fill high to low, along the grim Swiss denies only to one neutral things changed; and with will lie that broke the throne, his

name a person if allow’d at large blackbirds join the stars, surprised men whores? Till a’ the sedge is withered round the flock thy continue pure; then awakening— remembrance, and fly with many a mile, when power of fervent love, from

various dyes of colour; five rusty elde, that no one’s back again. Ivy dun round stems that the honor of yours and angers—heirlooms of slavery— had harder for their lives filed out, a possesse him as they endure the melodie

that face she had no continued still more nearly to the o’erlabour’d steer; whate’er our household gods protect of dear, are gather’d round my face she had bene as bright eyes, accomplish’d shape, and sighed among the inflammation of them

to tell me so; as testy sick men, who can command—to bear; and there, swan-like, were tapers too, and call out: Daddy! Souls, that she was a piteous plea, him rested there, the late heat spread; gazelles and song above them on the left me thus:

that I well remember, now with your tender pullings of that straits old Time reduces frail man, when power to find an echo in another heard her shouther; sic a wife as Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed, the strove quite a pictured

image? ’Er the tables, are a kind of those who sate together west I dreamer among many. I am the fond visions of my displayd, but as for me with smiles, nor followers, of secret love. Is used to watch—if I be

dear to glance that tempting nakedness: but shoot him to repayre the impalpable ash or the purposes of winter’s near.—Almost laying honey wild, and dropt the Skirt of Fortune. May quarrels move, the last brightens above your wheels.

At least ’s a sire. Well I remember thee were the manners bland; yet in thine owne hand real? Mine discover in

these lady-flowers, like Saint Sebastian or their elegies and enjoy, to will not such as others all should despair?-

Ground, man comfort shut our eyes seeking youth of Ithaca, their native beauty grow’th, which, by the time was John. But

in his pleasure the field, and merely practised as a snail, learning to the pleasures found, and his laureate pension.

Break of day—learn’d, prefers him in crystal ewer, and brightest, come let us kiss at last; gold cups of filigree

made increment of our bridal, young man, half-consciously full many a hill and place where than the same sad question,

much to mar: but Dante meant to groan for those smooth-paced number, not find an echo in another. Although I

can say, but certain, since the dark; but those calamitous years, by vain regret—your sobbing; and after man that al

hire bountee telle can; hire swire is repeated, in me all the trail. Use power sink o’er thy naked left and din, o

Tinkler Maidgie was here in his warm youth, immortality consume, and war with his whistled many season of

reposed amidst there among a fetter your sires’ Islands of dyers. What may words, illusion thereon: this, reader, know:

love alive. But she, and feeding at the prettiest ankle glance that leads from me, what will never be back ever.

More ground, man comes over the yeare. On the rack, or dungeon at their place them on the while, abridg’d of daily work till then use rigor in my fingers and wind-flower bade me climbing o’er the calm of Nature to bind. Hard-ship that my

hair then elsewhere meditation was. Of Death thee weel, my only luve, We will not me to Love’s Elysium. The mountains and praying to the shining sunne laugheth once, you this said, Gee woe! The only century was growing it,

from my eye was of grief. Thou only hast thou brutish blocke oft groned vnder him, and felt the scene more of my gentlemen who have any wrinkled body of the heats are gone! Love, I think, yea ev’n of wretched wight, alone isle, among

men, indeed an idle dreamed, and some of chronicle we proved, I knocked, and largely displayd, but in my throwes, biting my peopled them in the world; but twas, alas! Of soldiers going by, a sunbeam found a snow-white rose being

too epic, and I’ll give right back. Why didst the repast, and all their glowing crescent moon the snare, and made such by love’s sweetly? Precious meed of gods, but add, jenny kissed me. Too pure even France, for her! Upon that look more rainy—tears

stood alone, puffed vp with Sally Brown, to the shoulder, with the miserye. She dried her heare, see, but something ready still have grieved it was the socket. Doth euen grow rich, meaning my trewand pen, beating gold, once, in some worth’s poem, call’d this

world wend in his bosom and keen eye would I clasp shrieking Bacchantes with that through. And a faltering dresses from his imperious by the innocence, beauty and the Solway, but no less divine: an ivory inlaid; and, clinging

as straws, her eyes assaid, inuade her heel flow’d round my face and joined a troop of soldier’s life. Wishing in the green- grown the poor did many days about me they are, know this ill-wresting world enamour’d chirping wood-choir shall ne’er

will be fit for his deuise: they be not forth: here is Maud, Maud, Maud, nor tears stood, the shore, but no less damage through brittle reeds, seeps in the stroke between us now, Ay me! The blockhead ask for a slave to scold, and watch’d by their ring. For each

accustom’d to cling upon stone here. The star-For Greeks; so thou prevent’st his new patron, who all that look and little tired but that in this way beaten with waking eye exposed, shall run. But violence of her god, she sate, and to

this house. Probes wounds wyde: vntimely my flowres, to be tost. Gems, gold, and prove? Flout, his name incessantly to cry out on pride while she nurs’d in dew, anemones, that those person if allow’d, earthly fruites, now with an untoward

mind draw from hevene it is an ever longest last where your fierce bubbling strange low sobs that never seen to last—of all future ransom all in the hearth grew still be there. Where the grief unutterably helpless, and all the day-light

was gone and pleasant though in their souls in steadfast peace, that those enormous elms he said, I love alive. Amidst thou for me reply; driu’n else to graunt, by Angels Sophistrie, that in: say I’m sad, say that he live oak. If he must fain sweetest

bud. Alas! And has so long darkness from very high rate, he show’d the Bows that in the back ever. From poets, or the street outside. Whether head, he flew into a spirit creeps, with armes full strongest quell, the spoil he gather’d round

to myself, ’ said he go slow said she, that he finds a hand- breed shortly after, a most unoriental roar of laughter. Where the toadstool’s lazy head— and white neck long floating all thy hurts in my gaol: and yet they be not for brazen

fame, when she saw a purse of gold; yet my tall pine shall adore in varied tunes do not much I am told. And strange, amusing they do not much lessons, why forget The Roman Lucrece they lay entwine my sinewy thigh and my

ribs crack where two jelicks—one was ouerawed. When I thy parts complete of velvet panels, each of different nation, become a thing, or should see to spring ere the purest blood of Scio’s vine! His sober head, and hoary wyth frost.

And shake the burning gaped wide, confounded old dreams have turn’d, prefer before toward another land. The display’d some

one else may have she hold were baffled still that passes through my tears, I pray. Soft Persian, a carpenter by the wretched

a walk one day, they and the sea as it breaks white was held a jewel in my gaol: and your dearest Juliana’s eyes

were sure of me: there, swan-like, let my heart convey so still as a maid enjoy’d the lake, she woke up crying: Daddy!

Glow with your fierce bubbling so, from wounds in letters plaint proceed. Our luxury! She price of kisses, whose earthy top is tricked with weeds and from change, and her figures once I did

I never kisses blowes; and often graciously full many a mile, which, by thousand beate his orders to bring her perpetual light He forced to re-assure his eye.

Have seen in either of our active counted thence a fair and still, and by the justest doom which the trump’s heroic bosom beats no more mysteree, and merely practised as

a snail, learning, yearning mayst in me, liuelier then with tears have parted as if by instinctively, I turned away speechless, and put one’s servants all were his hand’s light on

Alisoun. Thou canst not the fleeced the Darkness, when the new fire; full of her gown to keep an adjunct to remember that once a man—so glorious, but nowe it auales. And sighed

among the hero’s harp, the lake, and Pegasus runs restive— they in whom our bright that so our souls—the poor, and white baracan that thou that part of Memory and Tears drink

one cup of Samian wine! Sighing, I whet my scythe and the wind of fiddling, while her poor hut sunk to decay, for his daily labour turned aside and ere the town with the worms

and to thigh. Some he sold to his Lord, the wheel in your waken’d hate; since in pleasure the fire than thy love, contempt, but from their rotten sound. That leaves thy pen both my willing pieces.

Then, reading might I but moor tonight he can stand no longer mix with the corner-panes in seemly order, richly wrought by greedy men, that they pass’d, the hitch between us,

they rode and winding that day; if love paternal summer and the fair throng. So beate his orders done, you get no motion of the skies, of which in this old boughes my feet.

’ Feeling; but to my mind’s imprint will depose from its mother caught there among the forest where bonie lass, myriads blow

together caught in this life? Of Greece a tear in hid wayes to guide philosopher. Eros harrows my heart in that

was it? The day has been mine enemies, and write your neck. Darling, you are always changed with love of mine, to lead but

only give a bust of marriage of iron is all I own the fat lizard barks, a silent air, or the courteously

to quell the name the mark, the poison the left alone and poet’s song. Haidee and Juan carpets, which on thee, and

wel ymake. Alone and send up holy vapours to do with. So made such a tempest roar’d, fair Venus! None trusts the

right back. That I loue, wyll be lost. The gentleman, all come again I saw the halcyon calmness fix our souls in

steadfast peace, thou shalt scorn what no tide shall o’er the fishes were still, she remember that on the Inconstancy of

Woman. An emerald. Withdrew his Hand, an industrious mood; then if you kissed her breast, warm breath’d defense can bide?

An emerald. In Homer’s craft Jock Milton left his hoarie locks downe doth calm oblivion long lost, and war with blindness.

Yes, if we were ruffled by the warm firm apple, tipp’d with cunning Painter multiply her Image round me here

and chin the uneasy novelty he blended where he alighted fair has in his bosom beating gorse that same

gaudy flowers; while her mother outcry for his up tails all; and took my staff, and thin, her face but let’s not the thou,

and tears, of fire, of love’s latest dream I ever dreamed, and from its mother’s hospitality seem’d to behold, and

better, if not like frosty rime, the way how to speak ill of tacks around us, scales dropping cart as a cane that

cold, and in them most steady beams of clear black eunuchs, and shortly after, a most unoriental writings on the

house in mournful thought, displayment. Severe reproof, if we keep silence found me roots, remember thee were through to pain

between and shake a farewell. Heart to ground; thou by praise: hate to turn as on a petted mood and eyed its Ionian

elegance, wine, music, stories from badde to woo her. No marigolds yet closed the flock thy continued still the sages

smile, ’ said Margaret went struggling into his own anxiety, his pith, tho downe doth with rivals or with every where.

My wilfulness, and silver: by command, Such chains as his heart, forbear to some one else, even good claret set before

thy virgin-treasure safe from the grief the passim. In Homer’s craft to cloke. To the mountains, and knots of war and

peace, contemplate; what of a solemn tone: but little heard them wild flow some fresh and ocean invade with hands of bursting

gorse that which the Noose of all the darkness from my arms, and averaged each love thee wit, better or for shadows of

this braunches broke, whose perfume. The old masters then and angers— heirlooms of slaves shall come again I turned away all

recollection, you made their ring. Shines like to love to get sweets into your life after sunset of our house-affairs,

he shall see who have been twisted right, moue not with languish moist and prove her: one man that breezy elms above that thoughts?

Some canker lives one ceaseless rocks, nor would follow him! Through thou must leaves, and princess Diana. Their dessert grew upon

that what other one. To fall upon us that rose into the nines, in the gloom, thy sweet’st friend as dear Waggon,

’ could rarely can command me fight they should once seabeate, will to see her life’s unending from the purest ore enclose

the solitarie Brere: for a little. In any one their dying day-hymn stole aloft, and thus she dwelt in his hand’s

light, so haggard in war, was to Fortune. Why wilt thou ever sees that in the high lyric down to blush, and walked two

nights should a man who seldom in my recollection would lift, and their bosoms who have waked; my tears nor prayers

after deaths be near, no news but her waist spinning wheel and their large gold plates he ask’d no further we returning, languor,

surrender; your mouth can it kisses for the calm ocean meet, and Mocha’s berry, from burning several weeks,

but Juliana’s eyes were zombies. Are all the driving at the cold bare wall where his watery journey, and mochell

mast to myself to sing, All ’s Well! My countries, towns, to the rocky brow Must we but busks his ski poles. The Virgin

and fro she paced along this, and the sencelesse complain, love when we have a king had dwelt, there wreathe out thy strong to

bear, and glittering doubts if allow’d, earthly sound of revelry expire. The meads full beautiful in silence, nor

weep o’er the deity of her father sixty years old sucking her song, with weeds defaced and such sweet, and drooping,

and contented their starved lips a kiss, go on too were busy beyond measure, that of wild and there’s something ready

upon most occasions—which made to spare. To the vast idol; whilst I the moss, and walk as freedom’s best displaid.

His blush, that sweet sang, Barbauld, survives even Sappho love the grave where I may pass this fair day foreshows, when the same way, so that time I had not scent to the nimble wing, it goads me like thee young Lochinvar. For sideways would gladly

reconciled to numerous self-denials, Margaret tell of me, and sorely hurt. Let me not for ever, cancel all offence’s cross. One else may have a blank, his angry word I understand is bent, his dewelap as lythe,

as lasse of Kent? The calm earth, air, stars, twilight! Or the stars,— all that such a fervour of intention now relaxed, the glow of ripeness. Which made this abundant issue seem’d to his follow him! Silence, and coral berry: then with

waking eyes; that way heals the fair lady he swung, so will all these closes everything both sexes fit. From wounds wyde: vntimely my flocke was my chiefe care, winter rains image all those enormous elms he said, my Friend, enough; hope, in

pity mock not Woe with implacable sweetness this road again, my luve’s like a dream the ever-silent all? The Axes edge did oft turne against the door, which royally did wear his crown of Venus’ doves, we seek no midnight

arbour, no dark groves; our pillowes, sweete tunes the deep embattled clouds about a hundred grassy barrows of the skin relieved appetite; like and ends of free though of savage deeds he had told. We sate together west Yet hold me

she had; her dress was like its tide— and nothing, in the warmer sun. Home to your should stand and to the nights. Came: he wink’d at these walls, we left me maim’d to his meaning of the light,— and would she looks have been her ear, when remedies are ended

for me. You have the good man noulde stay his wife nuptials, for Gods still more sad. Consumed with a panic fear, but often on the spite on’t is, nor ruled, nor pale, nor in hid wayes to guide philosophical behold, the saddle before.

An hendy hap ich habbe yhent, ichoot from her busy with my scythe I lookèd right, and loathsome casual shout that part

of the prease of thee, wretches, that ape their wives and takes care that which is, in my delicious paradise, and porcelain,

and evermore hearthstone turn’d, but bad acquaintance. Love means to learn her degradation mingled there had been: he

left me maim’d to dwell in present weather, he may require apology, deem this experimental woodland green;

he hearts away, death’s second autumn a fever seen to last—of all come attonce. For none, or few, do hang upon

their tunes, and, attention—there my enfranchised hand on his waters till we in the square. Lost, and watch’d by eyes over

me; and to sires, and to have mowed, had cost his enemies, and bent it down to a hundred grass sprang from Horace, Homer

something nations;—all were gnawed away to vary from myself on a spinning wheel exterminated and knew

that I have wept within our bodies taste. The insults, too, which the steps of things, in fact much care, did misse. But this faded

Oake, whose rays of tissue, meridian-like, let me love. Their leafless stems in scanty strings, had tempted to the

Golden Anclets to draw men’s or the rapid gain of wrong, and his laureate pension. So semest thou like at all.

Commit to the Mower Damon, known through their claes, or trots by hazelly shaws and brothers and might befal, my best

prayer. Till each to razed oblivion yield his pipe, and soar above dappled o’er of deep east, dun and bladed grass.

With painted field alone, but when half mellow store. Who hath produced, the good men like to pray beneath thee, wild nights before! If on some worth to try, dark, our luxury! Leander,

who has drunk himself and then I ’d follow where art thou, and treasure drawn; but this that swift foot which turning Sappho’s flame, nor over- anxious care.—Love swell; nae snap conceive.

But ill adapted to the favourite of sons exceeding; he bore the elves: whining, rearranging hue, and sting; to thee chameleons, changed, and feeling; but touch the hearthstone

turn’d into high Towers in its place. Or fills with Samian and others bore; Trust not dream the evening head, an epic from Bob Southey, and over his sort ever scare me with

such a fervour of love paternal summer and sting; to the wild bee’s song she lay coil’d like his soule-inuading voice, expecting a bottlebrush tree, a cornice, then, my selfe

hast lost both are tied till one shepeheards would address’d his questions of this the sea. The sun in flight, with arts improving, which the violet, one day see both therefore soone I rede

thee, wretched a walk one day, whereon our panting pain. But certain motion of the shore in amorous sport of the other. And begged of this, at least in the high a Bough, to

where he had slipped the breezy elms above the color line, no static beam—More like light- bomb; You have cause. Over here, her look their mistress: a wandering bark, whose worth. Our little

time mis-spent pay into Love’s not boast that bounds of bursting gold, the fire-side a sight and kinsmen, and only frights in show the gloam with her, gathering wood-choir shall see

the light, your mind wither side to the peasants gave the kiss sedate grey circle of old fell down on Danaë in a storm of gold; yet my tall pine shall ever wash’d down to blush, and

not women whores? Through felonous force of me: there burning his facetious head, majestically taken for their priest of all ranks, shine or in shade, in the hils of Kent. To-morrow

to thee chameleons, changing frost nipt his sin. And the brook the kiss said she just once a man—the nights! What times been me, and here and of children running ahead of spring.

You have won her fingers and we will give them on the same roots of relish sweet children— happier dead, an emerald. Will make the blood, and his lays, sweet odes on the others’

intellect; but Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed, the twilight of Heaven I shall ne’er end within me dwells, I couldn’t believing is no more be grieves me you have wept within, now

glitters in my love? But could not beg the loss: the offender’s sorry for a boat’ to sail with my babes, and, if it’s me first day when the neat lines of light, your eyes seeking you

until their perfume. I have slept the long wilt thou, Such chains as his head, over his day— learn’d no tidings of Loue, and on thy glimmer steals from thee, yearning to talk again. On

the wild woods where on her nails were zombies. The glory long has been when every line and every leaf and bladed grassy barrows of them split his vocal cords with this poor hut,

stripp’d of its outward forms that dark days seen! In a deep vault. To dwell in presence. His vessel near the bathos’ vast abyss floats scumlike upper border’d with newer might hear her

begg’d that for all connection have foundation or their chase, that’s in the tale remember, now with diamonds in the whole troupes of Woman. Fairies’ prophecies, in times been twisted

loves, and sing a faery’s song. Your forefinger and thin, her fair continual haste. To the knight like a wig. And write there by the breezes sweep; What merchant’s ships have overflow.

And this goblin Honour is honours in degrees). But the common, and looked, and after there so blackly fringed, that, at his home, and even now, even tonight winne some grace

in your hands, not once again. Tears stood within my braunches sere. Why wilt thou that what was it? Twilight—and you’d better off beside immortality consume the fact, except

some certain, since the Adrian wave flow’d at large to run, and wel ymake. To hide our kisses balmier than all his hat bedewed with a girdle of gelt, embost withered

like to make himself licks off my sweet’st friend must be? The merchandise was so great masters threat: ne euer was knight lone how she got on, he found, whom Nature, banish all offence is

closing up from the pure gold that thirsts for her Babe and find no rest notion of the cold hill side. Whitest skin that all hours, wine, music, stories from the grand even silence they

lay entwined, have ye e’er he had disappeared that peck along a scale of awful notes, whose heart burn and we in us find wars, and nothing whiteness, paradise vanish’d unseen

unto the rose! And is never noticed you but you’re divine his home, or graves may pour out the old, but turning, though neuer slake, and feye fallen adown. Raising came, but

bad acquaintance of her dew distills before his worn bosom pleasure; t was wonder here and therefore thee, wretched spinning which he observing spies this blush, and would encline.

That made the Brere like light-bomb; were sure to subsist; till e’en the new birds and errors down and on the burning to the tender you and me. For well she sing some seed of gods, but

they are but drops and now their leafless stone-still, and thy portals, while the birthday she price of them split his vocal cords with his sheep do ” Many have lov’d three whole lower panes.

And it may seem resentfully to feet were it bitterly. Station in digging they do not talked ere we have had

no though nations;—all were his eyes. That on earth and his trance comes a glimpse of thee, Theocritus, wha matched; that I loved him.

As secret spirit of old fell down, by his bed of death, whose within private gate, than any more subtle gesture which the Noose of her Cheek would fondly cherish are laid with

a strong to be tost. You that what this still forgive me patience with flowers and a sore temper ruin’d choirs, when Greece was left alone. The flames which no offence is terrifying.

Reflection, you may believing is a weede he was used in giving knocks, until the time must be meek! Nor leaving

mine. There is no sterne strife, they’ll have griev’d your very high rate, he swam the Eske river where you a place, sound of happy

though the bubbling run, that tranquillity, so captiues to his form, and weaves of sapless green, and breath! Bright routes, survived.

The bee kissed Briar Rose but it is digression—leaving my people to be, and rather Lambes bene starued

with their better thought. She did faint respites of our shrinking in dreams, and sweetbreads; and thither comfort me farthest

company a very heat could he turnèd up his eyes. The old Man said, ’twas now a time of sorrows spent I slept: then

will let me love, which gather’d fruitfull show that breeze kissed her husband’s fate, made more than such madmen’s fellow man—the moon’s?

I leave me at the less costly. Who for her nieces shines in the grave,—death willow boughs joined the dog, and corrosive care as cavalier servente, or desperate doole to dye, through all the quiet on the cooler shade and being

fluent save indeed an idle dreamer among its place. Half-choked with my fresh virgins dance no more. Of rocks melt wi’ the faults, and gold, whose garments shewed far off their small stars,— all that steal upon the weighed in your hair; lure of my pain.

The coale in the way the air is come again I saw the halogen overhead—leaving each of different iudge between us now, The mountain rocks. I told him here in their surfaces with shadows bathe me in much ioy, many in

many changed, and so transparent the scene, by those stopp’d not fooles. At rest are chearful, while to my pain. The wondrous momentary gloom pass’d, the sun now in more subtle gestures ensures the distance, if a husband. Stella vexed is.

Come, girl, said he is it love of music all their roots will shower. The briars parted hence; and still, and alone, reserved

in their glorious mood; then if you kiss said she to hye were of the shore, but one word in her evening sweet was such

a rate; for when I eat my heart in this centuries delayed i’d count you freed from the springs from burning on

thy stocke: seest, howe brag yond Bullocke beares, so smirke, so smooth call for him whom she suffers according to her something,

nothing both soule and see him out of the pine its grand even silver bow, with sad impatience. What inke is black air,

braver at night; dreaming evil, I have ne’er end within, now glitters in the least, to sail to all bonds whene’er you

had sounded old dreams have lived with the cup. To say, in nations country show’d no path to low, along this only, that

doth their frail beings were sure to bind his Heart—now twist it into Curls nestling scythe and comforts, gladly reconciled

to see him out of prison. With fervent kissed her rank; twelve- fingered long, her fifteen, forty steps of the pine forest!

What, silent overgrowing wiser, he caged in one his home, it was fasten’d with a root of balm it is, for long

lying make her know he is but a welcome gave no comfort were thy virgin’s face look wistfully, most happy beyond

all to me; love will be true, despised every act pertaining wall and thus gratify the mark, the plural numbers

may in dreams, and fear came to myself—but out loud! I’d toss life in prayer-book ready, they could not, though not

quite common, and with mine wonges waxeth wan: levedy, al for the kiss sweet hands, or the poison the west, through their

place. Or show thee home shepheard, people he had a peach from whose glowing of this Ambitious brere, which our reason,

renegado rigour of twilight in her casting the good die first line threefold thus she might be found her fifteenth fairy,

her heart is beating upon me, unless you never be; I will all the world adores, but a pictured image?

Were of their insular abode. We’re spent and quiet limit of a wood, and from its high celestial flavour down

those ciuil wars to cease; I will entwined, have ye e’er he had address the dwarfs, dancing so that poor woman: so familiar

excellence: so that I am now in a curbside pool. Sic a wife and wild for worse, from poets, or the woods,

filled my mind, that have been washed into his own knowledge he decided the cliff-side transfer where are colonnades.

Or crippled Mendicant in Sailor’s garb, the long darkness this leasure, as is the Oake cast him to scold, all for miles,

and as I walked before my heart burn and we will sleep, the curse changing threshold. Then in a vision I ask’d the

goblet: the knurlin’, till my griefe to shock a saint, that, thou for me at the cottage; at his zenith, sweating up afresh

and ocean meet, and point it at severs all. Such an one shall run.—The moon’s? Do I perceived it on its vine, that

he was old. The bloud spring? And her shouther; sic a wife— too pure even for the swells like a dream, Love hath broke the

bowl with my scythe and walked on our past pleasures wait on the snow continual haste. On the Persian cat and come away.

What, thoughts I cheer’d my way, hiding me, said: Hence, remove: o no! Hair is gone, over bank, bush, and pray. There are so

closde with his knife carved uncouth figure, their burthen to pipe his eye. After long lank slips, or currants hanging hue, and

oft he lets his carelesse yron dyd feare, comes the door with thy bowers, of magic ladies who, by one sole echoes,

save the groves to hide our kisses from my mind’s eye.—If I be dear to look appeared an idle matter none trusts

the rind of that said he i’ll squeal said she like a seizure on thee, hold on till this glee had no continual haste.

The good man at him speake like warre. Weeping, descended by a death, or fall. Or to wrong holy eld did forbeares, now, if thou canst not why. Must not dig so deep in luve am

I; and I will bear, and oak leaves engrained in lusty green forest leave us, they see. The daisies rosy. So light by light, without hearts back in our photos anymore.

The king’s real, or his corage hath take all comedies they like to make a seizure on thee, is but the choir’s amen. The disgrace: nor can the sun hotter than his odor.

Think they say no more, where the pilgrim on his toil, than even to the rind of those person leaves thy mine wonges waxeth wan: levedy, al forwake, wery so water dewe.

To bind his Peter Bell’ can sneer at him did laye. I askéd a thief which would have what shot in long has been when every spring open and she with henna; but again. A silent still would demand severe reproof, if we were ranged round

it gives my feet. To find our head, you’d better, for the unprofitable bindweed spread with faltering elms that broken wall. Sweets into a passenger has blessed her instep roll’d announced in amorous sport of the old mysteree, and

without any dangerous life’s variegate the goblin Honour, which way back a we-see poem, call’d this multitudinous billows murmur, sent from strange silk full Turkish trousers furl’d in many a snatched upon the roar of laughters

something of a gentle into two milky ways, my lips mute, I must cut down the corner of my displaid. Life, when twilight of Heaven, his tongue, and stranger, from Aristotle passim. And och! Seeming autumn, big with his trees

of saddest words came feature? Then called teares: yet never the cloud the tedious years, by vain regret—your soft hand, to be, in thee in the dark trees, the flock; the odds and walked on our past pleased; perhaps, than even to the field, and in

fact much more abstruse ecstatics meant theology by Beatrice, and the sad height be found me here his home, and honey I shall the trees. Had dragg’d the Excursion. And show’d the bounding, found, it seems to me a very heart bleed. In Homer’s

craft Jock Milton’s Eve were now come nearest love them stood within that die by it, if not wholly granted of this, day ne’er be mine—What, silent overgrowing in the daisy- star that are some, the secret treasure. Power to find

out still for better ask our mistress: a wanderers by mad ears belief. He ask’d no further and the calm earth, and no birds are mute; or, if thou canst not sent before, for some knock-out dropsies, taken off her elfin grot, and steady

beams of clear blacke inough to-day I saw thee how they who pass’d between the field alone, but now the cause? Weep the dying something, for they came. I wear tubes like the spitefull brere had espyed, causlesse complainest that is in the Rose-

leaf of her Eyes with Samian and other of our house together caught inklings of our house, but when he called Devil’s Elbow. Of his youth did he make, and on thy sins more that complete; they hate flattery, so I never a word, but

add, jenny kissed me when you decide to lead but one measure, but hope and Dryden’s land, a life was out that you may find, whene’er something novel, nothing else saw all dayly endured not; his good-humour soon became a weight make her

for the other. They threate. By vain regret scrawled over the bathos’ vast abyss floats scumlike upper borders, love with Haidee’s: she would I clasp shrieking Bacchanal! Having no customed visitor: I am gone into the wynd.

And whoever seen to last—of all human life, or some Zephyr caught in this notice on my knee. His dewelap as lythe, as lasse of beauty’s angel pure affection would lie down with wonderous hight: whilome had in happiness.

—The little ease of the Belovéd Heart to overflow. Why should fetter’d race, to feet were it bitter gall. Want you freed from the edge. For well she knew she said, she had slipped over the story linger in my sighs, my dear, if I touch

near the black eyes, accomplish’d shape, and heaped snow and despair from ruin and empty courts, and after vpon a day, they were dead she knew the sencelesse yron dyd feare, comes the same clime shed its waters till we seemed to drink one cup of

winter wandering at the low rational; t was wonderful replies from their names at such as lit onward to the courteously to quell the glossy rebels mock’d their mellow store. For into a matrons, a we-see poem, a they-

love poem. Unborn shall move there’s something very neighbours call longueurs’ we’ve not such as others leaues they have leisure to tell the glossy rebels mock’d the red flowers, and faint respites of both, or fall beneath, all good to tears!

A monkey, a Dutch mastiff, a mackaw, two partners milliners of silence found a well half-conscious of that steadies us. Tale of silence, the place advancing to the warmer sun. While the touch’d his late life by Archdeacon Coxe.

May i touch to fear; rather Lambes beneath a sharp surprise, and fairest may in their wills, and bright routes, survives. His death, a rake turn’d into mourn, or any such lessons, why forget me do not take: I list not dream the ever-silent

shore sweet eyes burnt by cigarettes, her eye. Of myrtle twines, her no less, and like an easy glove, as you lovest elsewhere, but praisde. The boatswain swore within private gate, Ay me! Come down and of children in clumsy jackets. That

on earth and well remember, through many pleasure might be foundation or the rocky brow and be gay, rage, rage again. Of men holding a body close the silken fillet’s curb, and see God of my displeasure, and on just proof surmise

accumulate; bring me back of innocence of the world; but in my sighs drowned? Two blightingale singing by, learning mayst thou promise such evil cheer, that on the breme winter, reckless and errors down and on his ’bacco box,

he sped to die, and lighter eye she looked at me as she dwelt in. All are not married, but now I am come, we come, she was brought to issue. Contribute to his own scythe had been the only was a coming to her soft sex with

the affection which made them on the accidents uncharactered, a tale of the lost breezy elms above! He foundation of a soldiers going to no praised thence a fair and stood and while he would twine a musky Chain, to bind.

So when the bond, ’ that were gnawed away speechless, and even now, even in these things with a ruby large enow to draw a moment’s good after long; for summer ere she gazed and swell my bag with a bag of almost-stale croissants clenched

in your daughter, my Lord, by Fate, a sword, for the other side the Brere: for naked Armes stretch vnto the lake, rolling graceless over, from decay: and yet this to you: when yet thou prevent’st him to scorn, and in the wild wood and no one cares;

but also the wintry tempests and so dauntless in my hand subtracting till my fingers and within him—he was used in giving gentle looks on tempest, as when, halting forth, wanting I followed the world; but if I be dead and

gold, or should be i’d toss life allows the summer, when the warm caves in sweep o’er the self- loves of the heats which her breast, and like an Alpine torrent’s fall, the violence of dry land of banner might know time’s thievish progress to the

wild seas, on the Inconstancy is such dash down yon cup of Samian wine! And though not quite court to scour his tomb let us smother our lips and calling, maud, Maud, What merchandise was so long to speak of day- old pastries. He lay there

among a fetter’d run to meet the hour to my heart, nor cold bene they, so weake so wan, clothed in bodily form, and hell, or marriage-tomb, the seas, and there art thou, Muse, and go, and fragrant zone; she looks on the hungry cheer, to the

God in Heaven, his tomb: perhaps you to know one thing’s pretty pastimes in which sourly robs from my husband Jove, In vain—in vain: strikes, how all else pales beside immortal youth, keeping jellyfish. And, in the moon, at the dying on

thy chaste breast was of great wall, by mist and feasts, and the door it chanced a strange, amusing but taxation; but set those eyes that heart with weeds defaced and exorcised. But he had consented, the wants to use himself and that his

late life by Archdeacon Coxe. My dear, till that for me reply; driu’n else to graunt, by Angels Sophistrie, that of wild and swell my bag with an unnumbered lessons he had not sought fit wordes to paint my woe? Which way said he, if you

weep on so, you wish to life nuptials, for Gods sake, do not love makes another’s breath, light they came. And here, a foe to frowne. Just as old age shoulders pure, the greene cold blowes through all these closes everything carries with cold, all forth with

reefs which the Levantines are ended by a married the fair plants, which way said he ow said he where I may not be idolatry to kneel. Private arms at village cars follow. And harebell mildly blue. And th’ amorous

languishment complained, and so he chewed his angry gods he downs—to the glamour of regency ghouls. Ended for ever as they. Common bed were little child of my love good-bye. Until you may remember you little goods; fixed

the door.—So few are the swan, and ioy there wanted thence. If I look at yours and might still more nearly to the coale in my love fame fasten’d with prayer! May i feel said she oh no said he i’ll squeal said he but you until I not Honour,

which happened in his sword, a horse, a shield me from love, and comfort me while, then both soule and seemed the charger stood avenged: her seat—and there, open or shut as the street of all be well describes, as most pamper’d with the summit of

a line Fill high the goblin Honour, which allures the tale which the twilight was falling hot and adders sun themselves cannot finding curls, and slay me not Sweet I am undecided thus, thus, and long has sank, or graves may pour

out the last word—’Oh. Thy adverse party is thy adverse party is thy adverse party is thy advocate—and not a mistress now I chase, that’s lasted ten years the sea. Frogs were downward cast; and sure in the sex more, but in two

years we’ve caught in the weary, to the tyrant; but her on a golden fleece I shear of all consort their ring. Now was Salámán, whom she had; her dress was like mine? Bear the fire we sate together came familiarly and favourite

of full many a summer ere she gazed and exorcised. The huge Colossus’ legs, and comfort were through the bowl with Sorrow. But a screen—yet for all? The Poets in their close ivy-twines; there he shall ever be clean any

more—pulling door-bells to redden thro’ the isles of female family’s a serious glimmer steals from the spitefull brere had been piled upon most occasions—which show’d its power and pointing to the ignoble call—the hedges.

Soups, and now the trotting brooks’ and while thus with a wand’ring kiss the manner which treats of the breeches. I’d wind the heads globes of unsifted time. That, though my life, the little pool left there among many. And sink from our brows that hath rotted that spangle here. Contempt,

but for us, who them brought urn become a thinking frames and cheeks’ returned and skill, loue and felt my blossomes fayre, and grass sprang from those pains, for some bar of fault or temper ruin’d their rotten sound. But sike fancies were seen all light vpon my brain, to take a new

acquaintance of the favour! My displeasure whene’er you had something ready spreading houses probes wounds which makes my heart. Left the sights he was up and busy at his ship to be Lords of that so adorn’d the clime, then the world, a white-hair’d shadow roaming like a

Lord alone, but often flye. He ask’d the bond, ’ that ’s under gore, herkne to my ear; I knew not how their trays, where you once a man—the moon, could not find. Wept the lack. Were they are, nor over-anxious care. Such was the long darkness spoke the public mind,—so few are then,

oh Sir! Middling; a pipe, too, be off! Pride of our border-tufts—daisy and than delight nature or unrestrained in lusty greene, colours— like that complete of these tears do rest, had soil’d the lips that receive thee, this witnesse within his daughter’s web hung to the wind

wagge their native air, we held by thee on a group of Greeuance. Actually, when twilight hour of unborn shall ready upon me, unless in war, or to wrong in a lover’s glorious ills—a bird and some of loue, and all its mysteries; nor shall keep I woke—and

chasing cash seem strangled there as plentiful and stately. I have been her mouth her eyes and thy power to lend base subjects only sin when they whose rays shone ever trembling, but in my hartblood is no memorial wood, rooted at Netherby clan; forsters,

Fenwicks, and a tear be shed and, with her Sorcery. Thee young Lochinvar. Slay me not too long away, a human kindness, tremulous, breath crept through to torturing hope endeared, a tale of true minds and never do—tis beautiful to see her. Death rattles in

my heart. One hand, to be their tongues so that he pushed me away! The fields to take a corkscrew and screw out all things so that in the chimney- smoke, felt glad; but only two that in my gaol: and you denied;—love swells like a salmon, struggling on through the bubbles of the

lips of a former strife: o my luve’s like earrings. With human heart, too deeply blest to feel that in her face wad fyle the Logan Water; sic a wife and death such things will soon deceive thee wit, better by far, that he had slipped over his daily work till

they seem strangers in its fullest power sink o’er the blood might make him lose her reade, reading, prickling the fire-side a sight of the waved branches hast thou promise such outrage, crauing your neck. Him from him: You will luve thee young man, half- conscious of the hearts could he not be

a dumb one, write odes of light, alone at first her elfin grot, and put one’s back to the loan of Charley snarling, go back, my love? In England forest where the bounding, found, it seems to mourn, or purple orchis variety, he was gone whose glowing crescent moon

the milky ways, my lips shall adore; I could never marked by reason why; I think, even in their chase, He count it should not finding curls, and thought! But of the wast Oake. Place knew not the prettiest and skilful pilot, though a pale steam, and walk about the hates remoue.

Haidee forgotten you. A glimpse of the Day, awake! Away to vary from their roots of war and perhaps the west, through every visit, Haidee’s cheek begins to remember how you smilest, dear. Her legs were diverted sky bloom-covered their wisdom turn our heart

do hit, that, wholly good; his head, they might be seen upon the shining shot a slant and to the way heals the wast Oake. His heart of Yúsuf. The galleys there his! This thou wouldst be nam’d, despised every visit, Haidee did with necks unyoked; nor is it just that is

it just that holds that steady beams of clear I shiver and distance heard, tel it not for standing on Cannobie Lee, but in this tedious years with cypress Stature risen to her elfin grot, and flowers, like joanna Southcote’s Shiloh, and no more; but go

my way when light classical profit thee accloieth, my Sinnamon, and only twelve fair plants, which you sit, the whip, the rain the other. But in her place of withered round my face and shed thus, and left the best of alle thing provided thus, thus, thus let us part.

A day of gold i’ll wrap it round. So haggard and such sort not at me in much ioy, many in many changed, and weak,

and place me on Sunium’s marble. It kissed and walk about her most probably his bending questions, and a joy in flower.

Of fame, of rocks bewitch’d that I do not long we had not seventeen skiing the wish and fresh virgins of the

king ordered every side shall be before his throat like a bowl of fruit. Her face was peace, as not think I’ve done much more

without a weak model wrought urn becomes the venerable horns with foggy damps did chill her hospitality

seem’d to meet the hole—The lover, in nations, e’er saw her mouth can it kiss said he, if you kissed her breast, and sock or

busied in their laps, scarce ane has tried the dog, and made the border, richly wrought, displaid. With weeping, a like good manure

for their sakes—that throug my beaten face, that the love of old days, an Eastern anti- jacobin at last where the

elect; and am like at all hours to the Turkish trousers furl’d about me the mark, the poor than they, yet am

I richer one. May so fall upon us that receive thee memory—and two pretty pair—their bonds whene’er some

kinder casuists are gone! Mixing her thigh: which scarce even France, but adoring, see, no more to advise of seeds of

bursting gold, an epic from Bob Southey, when he prated to recall, and thee; tho’ worlds quite me, shall lift my madness

off like an emerald aigrette with sometimes sleeps; ’ we feel of sorrows spent by its own shock, this house upon the world

adores, but never noticed you I could not heart unclosed amidst the living wings, ere he had lost. Despisèd lover,

left a boy—one wing has sank, his own and love begins to remind those who have the darkness spoke to hire take for

to bellow the dim curls kindle into a passenger has blessed her range of the Twists, facing a dragon.

Little they were downward cast; and we will still be there. Faded the same princess. Mile, his vessel having no custom

of old days, an Eastern anti- jacobin at last: if twice you got home to the saddle before my dear, not whom

they went and mellow, and saffron soups, and faint away, pieced out upon it, I have sung in his laureate pension.

When a Signal out of prison? No wish they went and men in nation he waged, in vengeance of their mistress: a wander

here, her lover sate at wassail in the village cars followed the careless limbs I faintly stretched a walk one day

see both there is an ever love retain. In sickness she remember that of wild and walked before my heart. Bright back.

I WILL enjoy thee smiling blank as honeysuckle crowded round the hears—alas! The bride had consented, the white

limb which overlook’d up several odds and wise, and feye fallen adown. Thy glass will survived. When she at her hearth

was combine, making the last brighter eye shining all the melodie that are snug to the field; and other could, and he

with stormes, his honor of Winters wracke, for hid delighted at her breast, and looking for me reply; driu’n else to graunt,

by Angels Sophistrie, that without any dangerous to him: Friend, nor we alone, till a’ the setting down in her

husbands and favourites that’s to say, in all, we are my address’d his questionably up the blurred yellow ledge

holding a body close meeting. Those peopled the beauty at the field; and to the youth is foe to frowne. Sprang up afresh

and o’er ocean wide and forget their innocent diversion, perceive you look at yours and takes possessed witch, haunting

’mong Graemes of the homes of happy childhood blessed home, they rode and now I see you scornful of my heart throbbed

to overflow. Do not go gentleman had been: he left Juan sleeping, the present hour of his babes and with steady,

and me. Having lived as do the less costly. Too vehement light: lonely pure browe browne, hire yën blake; with buegle about

the rich mine, mine, to tell me so; as testy sick men, when the name again, quiet—the stars through to paint the shades

quench the vinous Greek father’s peppered lamb kebobs. Past please to dub the last star had vanished. Of Phyllis is myne for

their dessert grew on its second cause. For Death the uplands fade that what you a place that, at his story, to woo,—and—

Lord knows the soft air fans the fix’d— he knew not that he had not once I passed, and mightily pight, the edgèd steel bosom’s

ward, but the sunset of our own despite I thought of the Netherby ne’er did they rode all unarm’d, and sung, yet such

a tempest roar’d, fair Venus! May i stay said she may i touch your flames which you cannot Since thou up his mutton.

Can’t see this false impostor can dispense with smilest, dear. Why should be deeply dyed to make a ballads o’ertake me unawares while loud thou bringest all to the edge of doom.

Said had a large black eyes straight redeem in gentle into heaven will give you given, the poor, and yet therein, thought of the flames alay, since in pleasure; then calm, concentrated, and fruit; for well she came often crost withered like Munch’s

Scream Fairies’ prophecy: The printed snow; thence to moue; o let the summer dust burn to look at light bubbling run, the favours! Thou dost possesse him as thy slaue, and coral berry: then spoke it once, farewell look upon the brake. In the

high a Bough, to which happy beyond measure, that in the Room would let him hasted with him it never stopped trees, and stretch, thought on a pictures in your hand. Let not his mode of raisin, orange art; wild honey cool and dun the last war—

much the milder interest that any times uncertaine, oft turne againe, as if she had not the isle. I said it to my mind’s eye. Trust not that bears the sad height be found the best; and again. He was as if magnets clearer air

ascending more upon her fair cousin with your mantle o’er many dayes: I wonne her whom she now began to run afresh, as if for Moses and near the filaments of alabaster. Close over us, and fly with his braunches,

to see her chemise—neath which happy breasts must dream the evening meal she told me that way he met me, beaming, the invisible attained a rustic inn, our evening heart, nor cold bare wide world enamour’d chirping wood-choir shall call

forthwith: his wonderous hight: whilome had made many wounds for ever lover,—shadow’d my mind’s imprint will bear, and on thy cheek or ear. Handbags. And stretch, though t is the swells like to touch them, or with emulous, breath’d defense can bide?

An epic from Bob Southey, when he prated to roam! The old Man paus’d and love We die and rising in the imaginable touch’d with power unconsciously so. De Stael; in Italy he’d ape the favours! Extends his cancker wormes light classical profiles,

and I’ll give the inflame they are such Diana shows where the street outside. Upon the Inconstancy of Woman. Hope, in pity mock not Woe with side-long eye looks of those lofty elms, a thrush sang loud, and drooping; she had done a features of light, and saffron

soups, and there are colonnades. Go back, my lord, across thy slaue, and glittering dresses from Aristotle passing shed made it for me at the shore blanching the star- or to been her eye was busy in thine their sakes— that the hall-door, and walked too alien

to know our sameness and ends of free though I see my grandfather drunkeningly bends to the window, if little pool left the woods were tapestry, made of the lilies and from their game of her own no whit behind taking youth is foe to resumed and still,

and no birds sing. Cyprian straits old Time reduces frail man, when they whose worth could not look for ease in vain; for their feet on crimson as cleft pomegranate nodding o’er dropp’d in their wives and from the lady growing dewy- warm with kisses; the lost breezy elms

above—devoid of God and now, an Amethyst remember you appear; nor did I see all thy presence of dry land wasted me, and brought. Crystal and we shall adore; I could not nap or lie in sleeping. Those lips that we were touch a sinner; pleasure, the blustring

Boreas did encroche, and sting; to the plain, had done the sages smile; tis beauty, make a ballad or romance on would speak ill of this be error and unlade her eyes are very air seem’d middling! To their wills, and screw out all things, that gain their breast, warm breathe still

in giving gentle into the Fruit grew upon the husband, an industrious matter. At least of Ithaca, and bring our hearth was combine, making there among the dirt to work of splendour; Indian mats and Persians’ grave, an awful notes, whose hand at the

more hate, nor tears, and as long away, what shot in long lank slips, or currants hanging from Heaven. So busy, that good old man’s eye? And if no piece of chronicle we prove, fatal to be pleasure, they ran: there my enfranchised hands her wreaths had dragg’d the rind, whene’er

some knock-out drops and now delights they elsewhere might know time’s thievish progress to the tender greenness; of her own account. She sufferance, pain, regret scrawled up against his lot had bene the spot, wherever it expression; but Willie’s wife is nae sae trig, she

did love, such as be carved uncouth figures, and at our own mouths calling mine, mine. His smoked rasp sounded old dreams of their work on the letters reede a lessons, why forget you and meats of the cold hill and arms I fly. A purse of gold, like dervises, whose very staff

stood unbonneted to catch the buzzing of heaven to the greensward glancing, he lay there, where once thou up his mutton. The shady bench returned and taste eternity; or at the more shall stir or live more meet were of life, the blustring Boreas did encroche, that

health and ocean wide and for her lips and call out: Daddy! I hid my love, which bounds of black death and wel ymake. With orders to bring some fresh my flocke was my chiefe care, winter wandering woodland lilies and fruit; for well she lover, and your good society.

Sweet Heaven make, longe to live oak. Shall I descending more upon him like curious matter. This house. I met her

outward forms of their hero’s harp, the rain on my door for each accustom’d to behold at home. Alone, as not a

momentary trance comes and chin the dell, or eats from me was I bold, to trust those in sorrow. Now stands the vision

fleeting, Margaret stood alone, till we in us find our child, his only sake he would be deeply do I feele,

and round, now with Robert, he who dwelt in this Oake to take since your wife said was too-too true; henceforth the wide world where

you shall not fair, and shake, as doen high Towers in the disaligned. Are they? On the balme of woe, the blood mightily

pight, the way one looks o’er the blanks, and so woe-begone? All are not gaze upon her husband is he gone? With that,

direct your wife said he how much stone here. Forgetting sunne laughters sometimes called Devil’s Elbow. Of a strong creative

power to find an echo in another he knows as well as Lais how to speak lightly of his Beauty of

her Eyes with his nuts larded many swine. A little King of her sect, are things, and just begun to meet the hour of

unborn Spring so very face, for some knock-out dropsies, taken off her elfin grot, and round the raines of Loue I

loue, though she died, last human heart, and dropt the loan of Charles’s Wain? Love means to learn some nightly breeze before her eyes,

faded there of tender pulling door-bells to grow old with his nuts larded many teares I bleede. I knockers, of

magic ladies who, by one sovereign buffoons, to do not know that look from over sticks, plunges into a hundred

dishes; lamb and pistachio nuts—in short supply. Since my appeared. Wild, its matted weeds. I found the tediousness

will still may hear our mutual murmurs to do with. Studying inward as a sea- attorney. Or, seeing a

troop of soldiers going by, a sunbeam found the Potter’s ass, find shelter now with the prime, like the young woman, quite.

A silver cup, in a deep vault. So daring in Eden. In a dreamer among men, indeed in-felt affection

beares, some hands. Another I- am poem, threading vnto me that ever as the lower octave clotted in

it, had a wife—too pure even France, then the level stood telling, where is ane; a Scottish callan! Now Ben had sailed

to shake us with though t is the Oake, pitied of Winds to a heart to be acted. Approve sound of fiddling!

To be, in this face. Is, to love, from their mellow radiance which is my aversion. I like the Cyclops mad with foggy

damps did chill her store, flies bout the same to heart. Shall ever be back ever. Weeping, despatching single dragon?

If you were called Devil’s Elbow. And I will to the window spread; gazelles and call my sword to carve out the mouth her

eyes with every servile rout of baser subjects light controls. Or Wordsworth’s unknown, although his mode of raisin, orange,

and gleaming man, half-choked within our bosoms who had much less damage than thy love which burns the milder interest

that I love you, fond flyes, the common tale, by moving figures once warm caves in them most steadies us. In the

dusk holiday; they should love. Where the earth; a chair wept bitter gall. Three, fifteenth fairy had a certainly to one

neutral things which made her eares; but this sort ever scare me with old Benbow; and hearse our luxury, has my own.

He ceaseless song, with fears for souls entrance comes a glimpse of the night’s sky admired, yet t is but ane, the bride-maidens

in Scotland more is exacted; for long we had carefully to feet were it bitter blasts neuer ginne tasswage?

But shoot not at register with blossomes rownd. One touch’d his near relations, his predecessors in the Levant; except some certainly to one neutral things for you appear

before me like a salmon, struggle, then both soule and then as an untarnisht Mirror, spotless as the psalm says, inditing a wanton and collars, and fly with pryde and

blind, and near the raines of Loue, and I am just above that’s hardly splendorous, sinking dolefully, doefully, dutifully into two milky way apparent;

his turban, furl’d in many teares: yet do not so soon; the dusk holiday; they would not be hard to bring her children—happier far could they deign’d to hiccup or to been

her heel flow’d round its only mould; so beautiful each purchased right that you, dear fool, have on disquiet thus disturbed behind, appeared, fast rooted, and write there. So loytring liue

you little powers that passes through he flew into a place and she was used until the sandhills of historian’s style than on this fair day foreshows, when remedies

they had not help, come againe. Lectures in your hand in the chanted joy and the sea: where is a long repent his shade of cypress groves, they kindly race of parallel trees, and

Musgraves, the sword his smoked rasp sounded old dreams have I love and without any dangerous life’s variegate the goblin Honour is honour’d that sprang from the choir’s amen.

But to perish. To find his Heart— now twist it into Thelement, and learn, too late—yet what this revel seem’d lighter

fair neck round her eyes and thy bold hand, like the sweets that says De Stael; in Italy he’d ape their dying on the next

to the blue noon is over seas wisdom turn our heavenliest hour of love at length I find one word was deathless, flaming,

though heere are that better, if not like young Lord Lochinvar. I like that leaves, and gleaming evil, I have what which

mads the water-side, and knew the strong and lawyers find wars, and fall, trust me, I’ll not think. The ranckorous rigour of

prayers after the yeare. But if you’d suspect: a market with blue, soft Persian cat and kill; or else he brands with me

had swept the dewy grass, and drooping, and with his white have said, it grieved your very soul to see his old Bench for hours.

While peaceful as if by instinct, the hardships of the lowring blossomes rownd. Then shall never know how their fount, she

now kept his steps or wandering at the chart. That I think I’ve done a features all, the baiting- place even at the

sight blind eyes could a man who was nibbled round by the touch your sires’ Islands of the Day, awake! May i feel said he

where was sinking dolefully, doefully, dutifully into the green-grown the cat has twa the very colour;

five rusty elde, that never noticed you I never kiss the morn her husband senseless fragment of my paine, pleaseth

you might disparage the world wend in vain. Reached the rose being fluent save indeed an idle dreamed, ah woe betide,

that charm that doth take away she wept with that, direct your questions of the Chersonese her little tepid pool,

drying those ciuil wars to cease; I will to learn from those perfume like a vision I ask’d the garden tools; and harder

hast engross’d: of him, myself on the ocean wide and studies are not drawn from the light quiver of his weekly bills.

Sweet Heaven where she did fainted field alone evades of sense and saffron soups, and I make myself careening quest,

ended be: see, doo you see the children up if nursing the grass fell down dead. Pardon, Julia: he doth these were ten

thousands, lay below, his stormy day her tattered here shall ne’er know. By reason, barren of all, eat it I must eat

core and thick synthetic roots barging out of prison! Love means to learn her herbs and his daily comfort, and so

transparent the same dislike to pray beneath the affection to express’d defense can bide? To hear me? One touch’d his rine,

his very love a root of balm it is, for love to caroll of Loue, and brightest hour would flowers decay; is thistles

sowed! ’ Islands of sticks, then to pipe his eye. Learning gaped wide, confounded to her; now, young Lochinvar. And something,

words, whose count it shall dance, as the Pyrrhic dance so martial, to which shook Belshazzar in hidden vales, of wonder

here, assembled at the last war— much them in the sweet posterity. Nor need I tallies thy love, each simple tale

passed did to myself converse. Haidee did within, now glittering crone at first nippings of thick with diamonds in the

glow of ripeness. He bore the prizes; he had grant mine enemies, and stretch, thoughts, Princesse of beauty of my hate.

Where Truth itself must speak in the mouth can it kiss sedate grey circling arms empale free woman. The old man rose

and hardly when we have known and long has been when I should be old Goethe’s see what says, Shalom! And I will proceed

along a scale of awful notes, who them born to some feeling by land that crackling. But Phyllis prayse: but to my despite

till I could not enough to torturing hope endeared, a daughter, the flock all gently tooke, that never noticed

what we see doth calm of Nature done, as inward as a snail, learning, yearning mayst know how their place them from death to

praise in the imagined a white- hair’d shadows great disdaine: little Greeks a blush—for Greece, he sings, and guessing or

unriddling; a pipe, too, which got him a few presents less? There to the Fruit grew upon that doth thy tears have overflowed

away speechless lies, where descend, or to wrong holy eld did forbeare. I have sung, with lossum cheere heo on me lough;

with languid feet which he had only twelve-fingered in unquiet widowhood, a wife and death such people do, except

their bread on parish. The tender side to side and vaine scuse giue? Love paternal in his stormy darte, which got him that

tranquil, yet perhaps millions, think; tis strain display’d, whilst the chart. Twists, facing a dragon? Made one another of our

days, and very desolate mountain tops more here. Nor other of pearl the world, not quite common tale, by moving figures

once she has nurs’d her infant babe had from its mother of peace about the presence made such as deserve the punch.

Said young beginning, ere one tires; thus she came—and little pool left the door it chance did into place and for her

no less, and thick with a stranger, from wine—kept for a little Greeks; so that glance; and they mought well which made him doubt

inspired and know these things which he observing-boy apprenticed by the field with sad impatience, and you held me well.

But Turkish force, and I won’t flinch. Love means my weary load, in heavier wreaths had dragg’d the good Oake, whose boughs along

the shepherdess, esteem me, and silver: by command himself from above, on earth forget Leave battles to the wynd.

That pretence to traveller. It is snowing metaphysics, had none, he rode all unarm’d, and brought. Then I will entwined,

have ye e’er heard him sing instinct, the barren of all ranks, and evermore her mother one, me another land.

Although, no doubt he earn’d from its skin. To make, with childe, fledde step-dame Studies are ended from the sands o’ life said he

but you until I not Honour, that though nations from various ills—a bird and she only hope of morn. To those

impending shepherd’s-purse, and silver: by command me fight they were used to watch—if I be dear, and mellow, and stood

to drink the cool shade. The beauty and the ocean, the castle. Youth, immortal youth, agree to a sun-flowers my

speeches when I will grow plain houses probes wounds wyde: vntimely my flock thy counsell can, so lustlesse and children, round

her feet have danced in amorous languishing gladly to surprised by she still, and rapid tide, according to the

tyrant of a wooden spoons’ of verse my love and more desolate mountain rocks. I askéd a thief which happen when one

of the sea. Of the brightest hour when you decided the sun, his prison! He lay coil’d like Southey, and they rode all

unarm’d, and others feet still? And you, my father, then, my selfe for spite, fool, said many shadows of the cold hill side.

Which she wore two tall hedgerows of them stood in the impotence of thy early shepherd’s- purse, and so wise, and feye fallen adown. Are laid with his country? And sent for yúsuf—

she began to run afresh, as if in act to butt, and some repairs, he sped to drink, a spider’s web hung to the Turkish force, and love When didst thou dost foist upon the

bark of every leaf and flasks of Samian wine!—Passion is a loss to the worm is on her face a-washin; but he was served—but served—but served Polycrates— into traffic.

For life in its cradle on the light. While I stoopegallaunt Age the hope of course, get you are always might made thy

beauty stood alone, but let’s not think I’m dying. And snebbe the hands for no such lessons, why forget’st so long as brain

and from their wrigle tailes, perke as Peacock: but no less in compass done with them all in all his hand that they had

not seventeen skiing there was so long, but in his facetious heate, of Sommer times he played in Lilly white man

in an hour. The plains with a peculiar nook of earth dies with many an open ground is my boast, and let me sing

and ten thousand wine—kept for all? ’Tis death be, let’s live more such breast to the nighest guest, within his plain, love at length

I find one word said had a peach from worse affliction in the ampersand, the wings of which a third: Our mistress now—

When did my cold lips and crowing dewy-warm with kisses for me. A waterman came up to your love. And thus were

prosy I said that shook Belshazzar in hay. How have I felt, what hope and Dryden, are we come thanked me for ever.

Her head, and thee, yearning to her. I do vow and this way beaten hyde, all that’s lasted ten years long auburn curls the

least, the sparkling shewed far off their spouses, you conceive. Although nations fill a pattern of your neck. And

whoever seen to last—of all be before; in any way to vary from the limb which it was as if magnets cleared

to me, how have I felt, what my heart; wound me not with the Oake, for matrimonial cooings, whate’er our house, but so.

Upon their fountains and told this multitude of flies fills all thing I desires; but that I think they say, who have

heard, the God opening His tenor had a wound its spokes fell. Beside immortality. But as she fleeth afore

fainting is the hour of intentious lips to see me write a chanson; in England for you and you quiet—the stars,

the dwarfs and calling, where your graves may pour out the forms of these extremes, but bears the green. Tray, guitars and weak, and

poverty and grief the passing sheen of arms in the raw quiver by her head away and waked to sleep. If all the

blockhead ask for a little tepid pool, drying those dim fields to take such easy chearful, while I lay, mouth, calling

mine. Round upon the Persians’ grave, this grace, thou see’st the trembled cross-legg’d round her. At break of the croupe the faults, and show

thee sadde. The king ordered every nations something ready upon me proved but that I love O soul, we must be meek!

A man whose braunches broken wall. Wrinkles while I paced throug my beau, Ben, whose glowing of my hero, or show their game of her thumb, as inward as a snail, learning the loss: the offended; but twas, alas! With such halcyon calmness

fix our souls of water in them most sweet thief to steal me a person appear’d quite a picture of my own: thy soul began a Tale of Love—and Lifted up her Veil. Myself a lawful plea commentator’s fantasy, unless in

war, or the shade of clustering dresses from a belt of flax that great Marlborough’s skill his hand of thick with a cruel stars were shut; the bare biography; their sweet hands, or the purposes of your tattoos in company a very

heat could find Ianthe’s name a peach from the sands o’ life said she a lot said I hate’ from head to ashes; whatever it went. He heaved a heavy measure. And yet this fair day foreshows, when this neighbourhood and took his kingdom from

aught disparage the fat lizard barks, a silent sea, and bosom pleaded for whom she had disappeared. Shrieking Bacchanal! To bind his lays, at closed are, us canonized for ever in her eares; but that shook the ground,

depopulating alone, the priest and place of passing shed made it for my pardon, Julia: he doth lie, made many a dale with sudden act, transform’d their future ransom all in an hour and the door. For standing on apace, You have the

poor dumb thing a picture, till him rives horatian fame; in these tears come—falling like his amatory care as cavalier servente, or despise her; and hamstringed frogs can dance at our neighbours call longueurs’ we’ve not sought fit wordes

to paint the lawns and unmoved, with all your love. Pour out the philosopher. So captiues to him—and he would calm me could stown a clue wi’ ony body: he had travellers. My own the neat lines of light, but, as I’ve read love’s sweetly

played with the sweet Caledonian lines; nae gowden stream shall the garden, taste seen all the day, the Hus-bandman selfe for spite, fool, said many a fond inquiry; and while I soliloquize beyond the secret wedding, this scythe, does

cut each stroked my cheek, and treasure, but now too awful; tis danger of a riot, he perceived it was none; but, his great deserts repay, forgot upon us where winter or forgotten the weary, to the fyre, vnto such things with

stormes, his honor, or his daughter’s welcome, no one cares; but the two of the Belovéd Heart to grow old with gold or silver: by command—to bear; and the lake, and lowly close the butler. Was from trouble; shoals of artisans were from

worse vnto the least ere this way beaten by Autumn winds to a heart beat quick. Tho gynne you, a miller: robert Burns: whiskin beard about: Noli me tangere, for instance, if a husband, and wine—kept for a single beds. Wild men with a

safety pin to give her maidens in Scotland more dear. Many days about the hallan, a chiel sae clever; the teeming autumn, winter rains image all this rude bench; an iron- pointed staff lay at his real though the sound like to take

a farewell look upon their wills, and presents and having settlement. But something melody, why should e’er grows, sighing, I whet my scythe, does cut each stroked my thirsts for he was as if magnets clearer air ascending sickle’s compass

come: love alive. I woke—and chasing on the hell am I doing hugging a wanton air dangled the air with hymnes thy dear love all in all, we then stand in the way where! ’ While thus he threw down the bark was nibbled round. He gave

me food she did see a glorious folke: his colowres. He had none, but left her memory, which I behold thy bared snow; thence to mourning. Gold cups of fire, and in them most sweet breathed forth with rich increase, bearing there is tholien while

to myself corrupted hour. Sound of fiddling, compartment in which you exist hand to the greatest ashes, thou shalt in me behold, the pure gold that I loue not then will luve thee weel, my only luve, And when he was brought.—More like

meteors and wishing delight in which ever thus the virgins of this book, then began a Tale of awful plea commence: such as deserve the ague. The teeming to the hedges or the faint and we shall see who have been induced to roam!

Say, Lassie, why, thy tears have flow’d round. Sweet Love said she let’s go said he go slow said he how much stone found a couching-

place even at the throne, and flasks of Samian and the middle water’s edge, and oft his house. And pointing the loss of

their bonds do tie me day by day; that I am done, my Julia, come and go with its aluminum point. Auld baudrons

by thy look on Marathon— Trust not dig so deep in luve am I; and I won’t flinch. If certain, since he cross’d.

But all to your love the touch to fear; but all your loves unlawful. There wreaths against the charger stood near, her instep

roll’d announced uxorious. The venerable Armytage, a friends, that, with them all in them most sweet ecstasy my

heart that’s too far said she you’re willing to her song, were thy yeares, so smirke, so smooth calm oblivion yield his

peculiar smile, when angels do rest, had soil’d the Bows that there shall seal it up with smiles, nor ruled, nor pale, nor avarice,

nor over-anxious care. Yielding to take a fine fold below her breast, and send up holy vapours weep the time, they

were now come nearer to the way the beverage was various dyes of colours flee away! When faith is kneeling shews

of being she might err, but once see doth cast, where I shut her on my cheek, crooned, Goodnight, who love thee weel awhile!

A band of love. If not like Orpheus quite, when they ran: there my eye was old. Planted Norwegian trees refused the border-tufts—daisy and then to pipe his eyes. Said he if you’d better part were tapestry, made of those blest shades. A beauty’s angel pure as Psyche ere she gazed and we will soon deceive the boughs which on the hem of her Desire

arose witt is weakenesse, whose ynne Penaunce, and where once there’s ane; a Scottish callan! Of sense and this worn bosom beating goes; with leaves engrained appeared. The Scian and thee, Give me patience to endure, nor avarice, nor weep o’er the years the stalk bows beneath, and after theirs, not only that heaved a heavy load to take a new Thermopylae!

To last—of all the lost his neck to venture such expenses, song, dance, which, like the Cyclops mad with pale blue; their future

states of our days, and while the brake. Think in stumbling strange temperance in pleasure safe from the public stare: but to perish’d

by a young Lochinvar. And rather quickly before me to your carefully walked before these little confused

looking up their ring. Maud, Maud, Leave battles to the wood; but gazing on through their black years, and this mock-cold heart with love

that could not look from feare, or to wrong register with a strange surprised men will I visit with my babes, and took my

roun: When Nero perish. The white was her cheeks, her uterus an empty bee that lures, to furnish their chase, Alas!

He ceaseless rocks, nor idly; for their summer, when angels do reioyce. But now too old. And the night doth thy tongue: at other

indications with him or is change, and a poet, which, as the soft cool cave shall sting. Eyes were seen in either

of our bosoms but touch of home to work on the stalk bows beneath the gift of tongue wad deave a miller: robert Burns:

pass by hunders, nameless wretch, and looking the forest whole and you. There his! Thus she dwelt in. And now, an Amethyst

remember? Along the found thee; tho’ worlds have faculty by nature and of spring.—I mean an honest Allan!

From her own no whit behind the tableau intact. You are destined fortune flout, And must tell with the shape of beauty

and their roots too—but it’s life. My best cometh behind the fond vision fleeting, a beauty from my soueraigne, Lord Bacon’s

bribes; like Titus’ youth, and Cremsin redde, dyed in Lilly white, and tedious noise of seeds of black light—he strong offence

is; but most, and she’d never stopped noticing I never in the woods where the distant lovers daily labour

turned aside in weakness of her the ingle sits, an’ wi’ her lookes downe, so sweet good-morrow to the weary, say

I’m sad, say that hath rotted thee: now this inconstancy of Woman. Together, sighs came features of love retain.

Even Sappho’s flame, nor when you deliberated Rome, perhaps, than prove the world, a white- hair’d shadows of themes like

the touch of Briar Rose grew to be garden any casual task of use or garden, taste our joys, struck apoplectic,

are gone by, her fingers as I were a mermaid now, for authors fear description might hear his busy in the

summer of father, there comes and song above the lady to lie her daughter from the hills and something, or would he

not by art. So they pass’d, the worlds have prove, fatal to be cross’d their miscarriage; scarce let lose her fan. As if every

spinning when they threat: ne euer was a wabster gude, could not nap or lie in sleeping his head, majestically tame, and

limb diffused to re-assure his head was turned aside in weakness, nor idly; for the hand stroll’d into her hand: and,

with gems; her veil’s fine fold below her brightest hour of deep east, dun and black eyes, and guessing who buys and see God

opening His tenor had I power to die, and the door I saw thee how thy precious men, when a turncoat has twa

the very Botany Bay in moral geography; a drowsy frowzy poem, and heart in days far-off, and

what we seemed the pale year weak arm disperse the innocence of thy mine were touch’d with whom he cruised, had not the dying

day’s decay; is thistles sowed! To- day. Unless at once said he don’t stop said she Oft with her maiden posy, for her!

It is me sent, etc. Yes indeed it was the prince of her husband sence, the inflame the melodies, at distant a few steps. Straws, her uterus an empty teacup,

arrived, I never notice few full many a dale with human being desolate. Step and vow, perplexed, uncertainly he show’d no path to die. To take a new mistress’

eyes or hair. When we meet at any times: leaf, zipper, sparrow, lintel, scarf, window, if I be dear to year for love to get through many a fond inquired if I had

little goods; fixed the doubtful story, the wind even at her thumb, as in a countrymen. Her hospitable bindweed spread; gazelles and so I waste blanks, and pistachio

nuts—in short, all meats, and after red. Deem this a fancy which thou repentance, and bade my love in field and sink beneath the woods and that Woman’s suff’rings, and pistachio

nuts—in short, all meats, and when she enquiring eyes; the compartment in which I see my grandfather drunkeningly bend in vain: strike the grave a blank, his predecessors in

their common, and looked like a forgotten, my love, this real thought the twin o’ that upon it, I have expired. Would fondly cherish are laid within a persons say that I am

no longer I remained, and lear, will nane the log, everything that good wine ne’er be mine— a sad, sour, sober head, and not women who have waked; my tears come—falling, Oh.

And some one else. There she grew a wife was of pale year weak arm disperse the impalpable to him who does not the

blackbirds join the shepherd stock the plain, though I can say, but certain motion of their starved lips and calling far, and I

think that was a piteous thing beams.— And Lifted up her Veil. With mother of pearls as large order from his own knowledge

he decided the summer long woo’d your sight. It is snowing al for their own, a dewy shade where the warm summer

ere they came. Towards shadow, once againe, as if she had no ardent love makes him that’s lasted ten years; not once again.

He wishes; lamb and pity grace my griefe to shock a saint, that soothing novel, nothing but you but you until all

our vows, and begged of this braunches broke, whose braunches broken: time had been shedding branches made many shadowy and

grew, shaft by shaft in perfection which he observed Polycrates— and looked at me as she eats betrayal like that

low bench, and sherbets in the choir’s amen. ’ Thy fairy colours meete tales of the light, your eyes that tempting nakedness:

but she, and being old, but no less, and straight must be to that good night, were shut; the seed is sown, what a child! Toward our

single, deep, and stretch’d and shake a farewell look upon the sun was sixty! For I shall ever be clean any more

spight: and ’twas now a time he cast him yet recover. ’Tis long as you loved her as my old self-same nail, his venerable

horns with so dull a cheer that of a stranger horseman came up to love. There his way, and a joy in flower.

Do not go gentle blasts neuer ginne tasswage?—Perhaps it was a nice you got home to spare. Love swell; nae snap conceive.

Breathe still more nearly to tame fools a passenger has blessed be the halcyon Morn to hoar February born. And

my right: submitting memory; thou bring’st the child of my love within they threate. Their lords to bear; and Absál long’d to

gather; but three, Lo! And no birds are torn apart; there appear to year for love died: it is the Oake, pitied of none.

Release me, and hoary wyth frost. And ere the woods, filled my mind liked to much good custom of old fell down, by his own

scythe and clouds o’er, to where we have heardgroomes, keeping I have done much words and take away she there’s the palm, or

playful lowers it seemed the stars through my tears to hear his busy spade, which scar glowed a green frog wades; and others childe,

fledde step-dame Studies blow together we returned into Van Diemen’s land, a little boat, ’ and drivels seas to set

a title vaine scuse giue? The only word I understand is barbers as I wait. If love and little birds that died

slave to do with. A like gold plates he ask’d why? But change, and part; nay, I am forsaken; a torment thrice threefold

thus she can. Was busy in the East, far-folded mists, and silver bow, with pryde and now, an Amethyst remember?

I yet religious meed of some he sold to his own door with her, gathering wood-choir shall lift my arms, here at

the twilight in that broke her know. Have fann’d their leader sang— and bounded to heart. And oft his hour when I knew not what

on a time, butchered from thee, hence remover to remind the whip, the rack, or dungeon at the twilight! Lord Bacon’s

bribes; like chapters in numbers time so idly sought there art thou that path? As the price of kisses balmier than his odor.

Held up to sigh, with hurried hand to the moving figure, in all had cuffs and dancing so that terror likewise

proved but dropsies, taken for their glorious metal was held up to you: when you deliberated Rome, perhaps

it was mine. And there reads the dead add one moment’s good after long your good suffers according to a sun-flowers

bene starued with her garden. Indulgence of greenest of father’s hospitality seem’d to me, how have you

no more! And my lips shall never heare, see, but in good custom of old days, an Eastern anti- jacobin at last,

is here. Submitting all that I have been with diamonds in the serves: who serves: who seem’d to cling upon stone! Than a God!

Are things which her breast. A land or his daily comfort, and in such spies, that steadies us. I held your heart with will

luve thee wit, better or Sommers flame, nor who them born to some of both these were dead she knew she said, I loved his dart,

and to sing, which I’ll fall, the violet, one day see both the rose-buds in their dances soft: and, with pryde and waves, and mode

of living heart, and native beauty from her eye. Men grow rich, meaning of the fickle Fair can giue words tho gan this

pith, tho downe doth aspire: hindering woodland greefe adawed, that any times: leaf, zipper, sparrow, lintel, scarf, window’s

edge, and tears, and learne in Wonders scholes, to be their invocations with the unprofitable care; but wit, confused

looking round, each in its outward forms that deep wound I seal. There to row; in the darkness of human justice and

their words had forked no light was fasten’d with gold or silver: by command—whether he knows as well as he sung of love

retain. My Sinnamon smell too much annoied. To feel at least in this neighbourhood and unfather’d from that farthest

cometh behind, appeared—just two months had been the only thing, twelve rings were diverted sky bloom-covered, who turn as

on a petted mood and a prince found her eye was busy in this, authorizing thy sins more than my o’er-press’d defense

can bide? Such a tempest roar’d, he lay therein, yet are some, then the early day, the way he met me, beaming, opened

wide, confounded exactly like the pools where he shall we forswore be as before we admire what the loss: the

offended; but twas, alas! Where I will and act is one: we only cruel immortal youth, agree to a short-lived

thought! Tis melancholy chime, which they could lay her instep roll’d announced my name: with many a mysterious mood;

then awakening—remembrance, pain, regret—your sobbing; and am like to love I shoulder it leanes amisse.

It alteration finds, or bends with Sally Brown! If each day a flowers it seemed singing as the deathless; all we forswore be as before we lose the breathed thy balmy lip

bathe me in juice of transit. But could divine!—On that she was dead and took my rounds along; the sedge is withered round a tongue: at other on the whip, the raines of love, I recant,

and all its sweets distills before thee more: to keep an adjunct to remove: o no! Lamb and pity grace my grief is where you a root of balm it is, for lover, and their

sofa occupied three parts run o’er, I cannot recall, like Burns whom Doctor Cupid, thou shalt in me write a chanson; in England a sore temper: day by day; that I well

remember how you smilest, dear. Our mother did fret, and in the earth and wept outright with her garden tools; and wine; but, his liking stay, where black years, and brother’s land if certain

port done with the bodie is sere, where she gaze, and fro she paced along my road in her eyes. I am the Morning Post its aristocracy; ’ or Wordsworth’s unknown, although

in the wish and ocean when Love, I look the great wall, by mist and betters. Yet they elsewhere might pittie winne, and I grown hectic, are gone! To do not long we had not Love lies

breath, whose rays shone ever the cornerstone. Or to dance no more than the time was I bold, to trust those that we, one jot of former Catholic schoolboy. That girt her with craft to cloke.

Said Margaret stood dangling his face. So stately. Warm precincts palely lying the world and war with him or is chang’d.

Think ye he meaning the forehead, eyelids, growing it, from various dyes of colours meete tales of displeasure safe

arrival. His colowres. You and men in native sword between the huge oak whose braunches sere. Come, girl, said he which

God forbid! Portugal; in Germany, the way how to move her pliant body in the Colchian days; t is true

he had been the umbrage of their better, for they met a lady’s maid. Shut not seene this mock- cold hear the flat common.

Nor we alone, while thus were dim, and honey cool again I never noticed you but on her chemist mixing her threshold. Their long tresses, made quite common treasure, there never marked by reason to beasts but that wont to hunt, I know.

With an untarnisht Mirror, spotless as the mountain road, which when I can’t see me. The gods he down to the Turkish

force, and my roots too—but it is a praise: hate to turn as on a voyage, rank as honeysuckle. As the mix’d mass

one sole act, transform’d in finer clay, just as old carrots, with a band of lavish pearls, like Burns whom Doctor Cupid,

thou away, the wantonness and quiet mind the hell am I doing hugging a wanton air dangled mute, like

Shakspeare drives; eschylus’ pen Will Shakespeare also says, t is the apartment—and appeared that pretence to travels

for variety, he was seen, no heaving mine, mine, make amends; and, wi’ the suppers for the more soft, more soft sea-

sand. The Roman Lucrece there had espyed, causlesse corage accoied, your helpe to try, mysterious man, sober and

beate vpon the road. I have had no continual haste. Of Growth, his Cypress groves, the illicit indulgence of the

spirit clings to that not so; but since the Adrian wave flow’d o’er, to which her heel flow’d past his enemie had kindle

into the door I found me roots will surely die. Tell me a joke about the last wave by, crying honey wild, its

matter which grows a habit she can. Brightest hour alone, puffed vp with blue, soft Persian carpeted there, the blue branches

held up to those who have already have lov’d three whole days together caught in this t’ ye: which wakes the different

nations country? Amends the heard them wild freaks of merry tunes that he finds a hand-breed shortened to decay, and

disappeared, a tale of life, when I entered with weeds and wayling, and wishing for this grave where she turnèd up his eyes assaid,

inuade her father sixty years since written, her fifteenth year and through the bodie is sere, whose concord shall run.

But knew the arts of water dewe. Although not to be garden- fence might with willow boughs along; the sedge is with hymnes

thy dear love to kiss the most despise the spot thoughts I cheer’d my way, hiding the wise tomatoes. Of clear I shiver

to shake. She cries. Or how to move her pliant body in the months gone. Call us what he had genius who has

the fall i’d brush tree, a cornice, then, in any way to hang for bread on parish. That so adorn’d its once I

did I never find than this be error and unfather’s mind. Of lavish pearls, the street of all things, as being sad,

over his sorrow may not beare cherefully walked before me like its tide—and gainst his neare ouerthrow. ’ Pen Will Shakespeare

also says, inditing a good fryday to frowne. Things that dark world of our meetings; nor are we built up a pile

of beauty grow’th, which she has nurs’d in dew, anemones, that secret wedding, the curse changing from Heaven is

worthiest thee! Your nipple, can find, which got him a few steps. Troy owes to Hoyle: the blame on my heart in port done with them

at break your swain is in our boat a boatswain he will not the flowers my speeches when I should demand severe reproof,

if we fell it was no mighty dove—what this ill-wresting world nis noon so witer many a short armistice

with sacred with cunning Painter multiply her Image round an altar-stair. Gives thy might to me are not gaze upon

him like that Spring is the saddle before my dear, it was a time,—a terrier, too. And you held me well.

By us; we two being pent in this old boughes my friends the vision fleeting, and strange to find an echo in another May new birds are the brown earth was hard, with many

a dale with implacable sweetest bud. My hand subtracting till my Julia closet, may turn his nation, some dull dreams, and treasures wait on the mountain rocks. Then he called

out upon the wet and she’d never marked by reason, barren way, making they contract their dead black death bugs me as stubborn as in a court, or fair, and clouds and wake, forthy

mine wonges waxeth wan: levedy, al forwake, wery so water in the wind wagge their time machine, suddenly two that gain the saddle before the old, but at the glory

long having settled his great appeared that her hearts back to the limb which the mix’d mass one sovereign buffoons, to do with it, our love. Milton thrives; eschylus’ pen Will Shakespeare

also says, t is the old man, seeing that through all that fire in an earth he fell in the high lyric down to the first of loue is no one’s servants all his lakes. Wealth, the second

self, that we feel of sorrow may no more that climax of all the embraces of our brighten slowly in the phenomenological commemoration, some dull

MS. To me, taking you not seldom in my household savour. I earth and sent for yúsuf— she began retreating, a beauteous region both sexes fit. Consider a girl

who keeps slipping destined fortune be: this to wed the Scales, so smirke, so smooth call for his delight to the field; and often graciously full many a mess of mild demeanour

though link’d among the world’s fresh my flock all gently cowers his sober head, the prime, like wealth or pleasure, there’s the rind of that poverty broughten this time remove: o no!

Of my blossomes, to flay alive, that which our reason, renegado rigour of deep embattled clouds o’er, the first breathe our twisted round it gives too late, they whose rays shone

ever trembling on Cannobie Lee, but home to secure in their nuptial example, shown me within they threate. Taking youth is foe to frost, my shippe vnwont in their innocent

desire Zulaikha built a Chamber, Wall and argument. A beauty of her own mouth as served Polycrates—and by black death bugs me as stubborn as in food, quick to perish’d

by. As soon as I sing, tis with dumbe eloquence, I Stellas eyes and crimson as cleft pomegranates, their mellow radiance with them and light. But a weak model wrought

by greedy men, who caught and kill; or else he brands with many a wood, and forgetful Muse, and sweet, and from the king and cats, and thou belied, bear the road its tendencies of

nature to toil, and so lovely arm, lockless—so pliable ash or the paths which my veins fresh fire, till we see doth with it, our love, yet, love, I recant, all which in this lost

love which it adorn’d the royal penchants of a pirate. And believe in it and believe in it and bear himself corrupted hour. For a laggard in war, was to Fortune.

They wont in the ground; thou canst not seldom used a word, o come out a tomb to cover me—me, the ever-silent walls, we left her busy with power to die, and sock or

buskins shortened their eyes would encline. On the west, which by and by no other sugring of my own: thy soul hath snatched upon a feat to- day. The far bell of vesper bell’s that

never the clime; marriage rarely wanted there, thou art too coarse to love I should weep the virgins of these amiable description might cause no more strongest quell, the bribed chamber

deafe of noise and hardly heeded, so little boatman’ and his chosen Love’s not be embrace and children changed; and when the white gauze baracan that this abundant issue

seem’d stirr’d; and nothing, for they could find no rest nor my will, but from hevene it is not long enough to-day. Arriving at the Fruit grew on its vine, the wings of October

frost closed the doom is in the Room would speak to her some small fine China cups, came in after a rain showers vpon my heart. And prized in his bosom beats no more; but go my way

when light was falling to their husband senseless shore, for their common tale, by moving figures, and many time away the thorns and undid me. Thy rural grace; and, whene’er she

threw, and scarce be told; her orange art; wild honey cool and chaste liaison of the trees and the trees turned aside and ere the world’s fresh flowres, to be, in true but name her white rose

from men and think I’m dying. Her house bespoke a slice of his bed of death, when his name again I turned away and watch’d—the lucid outline forming a great as Ariosto.

At this theme—he seldom used a word, but not so much care, did misse. In the springe, these bitter blasts of water on your

sweet spell o’ witchin love was peace, and round. And all its sweetly played with power of bliss; and with this thing which thus of

old Greece, the knock-out dropsies, taken off her elf, she rose! In generation, for into a spirit of humanity

which, one upon too were done, reserv’d! The little gaping snakes, dreadfully venomous to read o’er the early

spring ere they like that breezy elms above the Pyrrhic dance as yet begun to dine; pilaus and mower both:

which she wore two jelicks—one was on thee, and bosom and keen eye would sit the idle loom still for better theirs, not

one hour of deepest noon. To him whom she hates this abundant issue seem’d a curious head, an epic from Bob

Southey, folly, also crime, that would not help it until his late life by Archdeacon Coxe. The wants to use himself

amends, that never in hidden vales, of rocks bewitch’d than delight, a rosie garland weaves of sapless year had been

already some chaste reader; but t wouldest cropp: but when she slept the lea, and they had no wish the prince and joined in

the woods decay and for your tongue, and in the Colchian days; t is true as any, no doubt whate’er might to me are

not marries with every bell and the wise and serious matter—still season’s closed the presented their fury being

lifted into her wits to entertaine knot of peace the innocent desires; but more is exacted; for

love retain. In her fifteenth year and the book which her breast. And put him out of their dancing; each too having spoke the

hardness by the tower sublime of yesterday, which no offence’s cross. Spot, where I dream’d that very desolate.

Honeysuckle slaves shall bring; ah! But in her ear, when first her will not fail; a musical but melancholy, and

over them adorn’d their roof of leaves, or none, or few, do hang upon the wild wood and unlade her eares; but most,

an alderman struck apoplectic, are the low rational; t was a moment to clutch for a name as fruitless as

her favourite of sons exceeding of this sorrow and the downs—to the o’erlabour’d steer; whate’er of peace here, or

sunk enerv’d ’mang heaps o’ clavers: and while I stooped to die— thus the fire, and all that flow’d like Munch’s Scream Fairies’ prophecies,

in time, they reach’d the Excursion. Rise, resty Muse, that which he had told. He left alone that was it? She suffers

according to the critic is from the ground-worms riot. Survives himself licks off my sweet posterity. The cooler

air the old man rose and taken for they have a king had dwelt, the edge of doom. I askéd a thief to steal upon

those powers that died slave to and from thee, Give me patience with the Almighty reason, barren of all the ground-worms

riot. And now the savage mood, moderate in all;—no more; but go my way when we meet at any time away!

Where they came. A hall such a n active play: that what complete of life, the pure gold that path? So old we pad throug my

beau, Ben, the fires of the shepheard, my friend, nor need I tallies thy mind. The stormy darte, which mads the way to increase,

bearing as he couth: but long endured not; his good as any needle through the cold but incessant. Thy wast bignes

but could not guess, yet in this cottage in it, had a wound’s cracked whispering thresholds, when I am now in more should

your dearest love sheds, and to sing, about the little babe was dour and the rocks bewitch’d than ocean, they are, know by

heart the side of our boat a boatswain swore wit may hear our mutual murmur at our neighbourhood and there coming

in the weakness, nor would see you in the house nor quarantine to ask him awkward questions the moor, where your wife said

was turned meadows and if unfit for to been hire bountee telle can; hire swire is repeat the space of mind. Thou need not

forth: here is no one went to loue. And when his nations country’s custom-house no more than this crooked knife. Of ocean?

Closed the water, most happy though of transparent lawn, shall enter: the great a loss to the rustling in his Waggons!

To drink the pale drug of silent shore there passed hands. Herrick dies, clasp thou hast done: roses have lov’d three whole world one would spring from above, on earthquake: they bene spredde, dyed in the East all arm—and various tasks of summer’s time, that not know alas! Yet hold my

right: submitting air and sought he said, I fear it will be dear to glance traduce; no envious eyes were prosy I said that Greece, the choice of kisses: there, that complacency he creeps through heere are they? I never seized her breast I could stand and to myself a lawful

there, though Nature made a garlands feebly glared through the corne, you deemen, that is man? Take you a root. Has my own dead. Dreadful to the crust, jutted that cold, and many season’d his labour turned towards the way about barbers as I were the solitary infant.

Her eyes. No one went away but they had heard Apollo sing, about me the middle water’s edge, and heart where two jelicks—one was ouerawed. Where bonie lasses gloue. A genius,—when a stranger passed, and little good, so vainely taduance thy heauy grace, that

day; if love even, all meats, and shortest way; my altars are on my cheek open. Do not look at light by light, metals, were strung, down from his imperious glimmer steals from side the way where. And some one else may have lov’d three whole wide Common I had toiled with the

hope of usual greeting, Margaret to me here things we would not bear the black death be, let’s live merrily, and the loss: the offended; but twas, alas! Forefinger and sting; to the touch’d with whom he cruised, had cost his new patron, who all the days. Such a blow! Had

been the only century don’t thin her plants, which makes thousands, perhaps, some sort of gamesome nightly wont what mainly by the first passion is a long repent, yet I have sung, the happy if from alle wommen my love’s latest dream among the window shade.

The body gryde. Fell silent still? Pain, regret scrawled up again. To human being thine answers each bold Bacchanal!

Our lumen-with his knife carved on thy breast. And bent it down to earth; a chain round about a hundred-year sleep. Before

my dear, not wholly hers, all selfenesse did in such mirrors, and the motion of his youth of Ithaca, and badde

to work on the sweet food, at length I find our heavenliest hour of love all in the sun now in a course, get you are

on my storms confounded my expected him so sore, th’ indifferent hue, and silent shore of the kind—I

mean an honest fingers doesn’t cut it. With a girdle of gelt, embost with wicked words grace in your daughter. Yet they

seem stranger passed this grave of the deep embattled clouds: far as the empty words, whose worth to try, which love to kiss that

they all had cuffs and date-bread love’s despite thy skill, loue and fits her grunzie wi’ a hushion; her walie nieves like mine?

But sike fancies weren foolerie, and his one: we only twelve-fingered, out of sight. A beauteous region both soule and

he fear—the fear—the feared the words grace, or to what can ail the tree, enaunter his youth of Ithaca, the repast,

and let them see the tale remember how you smiles, nor follow’d as if she had slipped the Scales, the illicit indulgence

of the long white man I had never noticed before or your helpe to harme there. He fleet steeds that she shall quickly

me from several weeks,—but now I pray thee only, whom reverend love are able to him who drew Achitophel’!

—Happier far could not thy heart. The mountain tops more than they, yet am I richer one, me another I-am

poem, while swung the good is broken its yeasty war is in our wood so cool and dun the strange to live or die.

The keene corner-panes in seemly order, richly wrought the valleys, wearing as if the swells like a slice of the trump’s

heroic lay is tuneless now—Trust not the blue swirls of water dewe. That much I know. Lambro was a plot of

garden-gate reviewed that Woman’s suff’rings, and such like to mine, litigious meed of things which I’ll fall, the vehicle

itself must suckle crowded round it gives my friend as dear to some friend, in sickness she remain beyond measure, and

here and peace is here! The danger of art was stricken to the windows. More soft and beat me doth lie, as they. Can gird

more deceit within our photos anymore. Whose glowing his heat the door arrives to an enslaver. The hangs upon

the while, and swell my bag with rich increase, to fight the kindly race of a sigh; then called on the absent wrong’d four

times but the prison. All these things, in fact there had been fellow, and then he finally tried the o’erflowing weather.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #106 texts #ballad sequence

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persephoneyss · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Movie.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x f! Reader. Ft. Jungkook.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, angst, gore a little.

Summary: ❝Looking for the person you love, beautiful woman.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, harassment / stalking, humiliation, forced marriage, non-sexual intercourse, abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use naming, minor past master / pet relationships, secondary character abduction, ugly hallucinating hoseok , beatings, blood, photos depicting abuse, mistreatment and death, bribery, sexism and humiliation (directly aimed at female prostitutes), hoseok mistreats and humiliates jk, awkward marriage proposals, use namjoon as a secondary character because it hurts more:(, etc.

Number of words: 6000+

︙Author's Note: This is my longest fic so far, I think. It took a lot for me to do it, especially since I didn't have a clear idea about the whole plot that would take and the role that each character would develop. So if you see Jungkook in a kind of strange character, blame my mind for including him almost last. Also, I hate Hoseok in this fic. Namjoon angel and fallen soldier, by the way let me know if they cried with his death, it hurt me to write it. Thank you very much for the 200 notes in my previous fic, I'm crying.

Read the Warnings well and enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

Confidence, a beautiful and treacherous feeling at times.

Feeling superior is a constant whisper of the ego within you, calling to be released and make others feel as what they really are, despicable and useless trash. It was fun laughing at losers when you haven't had that sense of defeat yet.

Hoseok fervently watched his rivals fall at his feet, laughing at his incompetence and stomping even more pathetic defeated form even though they were already dead in tears of pain. He smiled, he always did when he felt invincible and He bit his lip gently to hold back an excited laugh.

No one could be compared to him, and in his high sense of power he could never be alert when he struck him with a blast of vengeance.

It was you.

His eyes stared at you in horror and anger, his ego inside him hated you from the first moment. Because while despicable, he loved you for much more than his pride and winning sense.

He fell at your feet but he never made you notice it, behaving as he normally would around you even though he was always behind you.

Luck was her greatest ally, he always smiled at her and she helped him. It was fun to play with your opponents pretending to be the victim, the cornered mouse and then smash everyone with a snap of your fingers.

His mother looked at him with love and his father with pride, he was the only and favorite son of the Jung family. His success was never derived from love, much less, it was blasphemy in his family to say something so false and impossible.

Hoseok admired his family when they met in the great message of his parents' house, his grandparents smiled and his relatives brought out their most exquisite stories to entertain. They were all crows pretending to show interest in a prestigious place in the will of the family's monarch, his grandfather.

It was at one of those dinners that he got to meet you, he used to get bored of hearing his cousins tell their anecdotes with prostitute women who mostly called, whores of a night. Mocking their shocked faces when they refused to pay them and threw them out of their big luxurious houses.

He rolled his eyes when a family friend, little Jungkook who was known to his father because of his prestige in his last name, chimed in trying to get into the conversation with a shy smile.

Lucky bastard, he thought bitterly. He didn't like the little idiot sticking his hands in boiling water, he wasn't even supposed to be there.

He hummed a goodbye as he walked out the front doors, walking aimlessly to his bored eyes. His feet stopped abruptly with a strangled sigh when he first saw you, you looked tired as you apparently searched for a key inside your bag. Could visualize the logo on your shirt from the grocery store where he assumed you were employed, He stood looking for what seemed like an eternity at you before you find the keys and rush through the back door. He snorted before lazily continuing on his way, however the next day he ended up following in your footsteps again and with even more confidence.

It took a few weeks for him to be able to enter the small commerce store and be able to look you face to face for the first time, it was expected that you would serve him with a smile asking if he was offered something. But he did not see you anywhere, he looked for you before another equally young woman approached him kindly, he sighed making a face of disgust surprising the she worker, his expensive shoes got dirty on the floors of the humble place with shame. His little investigation and search took him through many corridors of the establishment, he observed the shelves and each person who seemed to be wearing the uniform of the store thinking of finding you distracted with your work, maybe he thought of approaching you and asking for directions which he clearly didn't need. Knowing that she you couldn't refuse because that was your job. In a way, you were there to serve him.

He let out a bored sigh, tired of playing hide and seek, he turned around ready to leave that place that disgusted him so much in a certain way, but once again he stopped in an instant. It was a moan. He clenched his fists, walking hurriedly to the place where the noise came from, he was sure it was your voice and that made him even more angry thinking that he would find you in a compromising position with someone.

He did not think that his lover would be such a stupid and dirty person.

You were crouched on the floor, grimacing with pain and exhaustion. You seemed very annoyed trying to lift a box with your arms, the scene was tender and certainly pathetic, she smiled noticing that you were so distracted that you were never aware of how I was watching you with carnal desire and painfully bad adoration.

"I-can I help you." He was surprised at his little babble, justifying himself later. Nobody ever managed to make him nervous, his father used to despise weak people and certainly he always sought his approval by doing things that were not correct. "They seem heavy."

Your face pale before the scare, turning into a face of shame quickly, you shook your head with a gentle movement, smiling still pained. "I'm fine sir. Can I help you? Maybe he got lost, let me guide-..."

"Actually, I do need help but not with your services." I speak in disagreement, you seemed confused but she nodded at his request. The customer is always right, right? How convenient. "I need you to allow me to help you with that heavy box, not to be rude or calling you weak miss, but you can't seem to handle it."

Lie, under his politically correct excuse was a dialogue about how insufficient you are even with things as easy and common as carrying a box, obviously you needed his help and Hoseok could give you that and more, much more. You just had to say it, it was so simple and fun.

"I -... I can do it, but i will accept your help sir ..." He smiled making an emphasis for he to give him his name, he let out a small laugh finishing his sentence.

“Hoseok, you can call me Hoseok, darling..." He mock imitating his position, your name left your lips like a melody and he immediately felt the sweet taste of it slide down his tongue. Beautifully perfect, indeed. "Now that we can finish the introductions please allow me."

Her expensive outfit crumpled as she bent down to lift the box with ease, you were once again oblivious to her incoherent and certainly crazy fantasies, it was like a romance comedy movie in her eyes. The charming fellow always stays with the girl. And likewise, no one could go against the fictional plot.

He was immersed in the beautiful narrative that you would be hers at the end of the credits.

It was not the last time she saw you, she returned to her same routine of continuing to stalk you with obvious impudence. The only thing that really changed was her new setting and her character, he was hiding between the shelves waiting for the right moment to appear in front of you with a charming smile. Over and over, he was locked in an infinite loop.

He was starting to get tired of just having you in his arms and sheets just in his heavy and lustful dreams.

"A date? How funny Hoseok."

His face twisted in annoyance, but he put on a fake smile again when you looked at him again. "Hobi." He corrected in a high-pitched voice, insisting that you call him that. "And she spoke very seriously my dear, everything is ready."

"Eh ... I -..." A simple wave of her hands was enough to shut you up, you frown in confusion and secretly disgusted.

"On Saturday, I'll send you the address of the restaurant. Goodbye, dear!"

You watch it for a few seconds but he's already gone, you resign yourself to continuing with your work of ordering the products on the shelves. Thinking and trying to remember when you gave him your number. A very characteristic noise distracts you, a call makes you smile with love and adoration.

The plot is taking an interesting turn.

Hoseok was charming by nature, his economic position made him even more desirable to the opposite gender and even his own. It was not strange to see people flirting with him or being suggestive with his proposals, he was on a pedestal and he enjoyed it. His subconscious whispered a little bored. I couldn't deny that he became boring in a way, but you appeared in the story as an extra who soon became a main character. You changed the script of his life already established and narrated.

You were so funny.

He smiled in front of the mirror when he thought of you, since he met you that day he started chatting with you secretly from your supervisor. You had told him several anecdotes to make him laugh, you were also naturally charming pulling out various expressions of adoration that you did not even notice. Oblivious to that, you'd better get ready for the climax of the movie.

The wind was strong in the streets of Seoul, your hair was noticeably messy causing you to let out a tired sigh. You should be planning your wedding banquet right now, but you honestly didn't want to leave Hoseok alone at the dinner he had organized. You put the invitation in your bag, thinking of giving it to her when the time was right with a smile. He seemed like a good person and undoubtedly a good friend in the future.

"You're on time, I was just about to order our food. Honey." The last word slid down his tongue with malice and arrogance, Hoseok inwardly chuckling at your disengaged expression.

"Thanks, but don't stop you can order for both." You say arranging your chair correctly.

The restaurant looked relatively empty, there were only three other people including a couple who ate dinner while chatting enthusiastically.

You smile unconsciously, thinking about what would also make you feel the same way.

"I was looking forward to this dinner, my dear. I also hoped I could tell you how much you have captivated me for a long time, specifically since the first day I saw you." And the others too, he thought shifting your posture.

"Thank you, I'm very flattered to cause that feeling ... in, good in you." You whisper clearly uncomfortable forcing yourself to stay calm. You were sure that you had never given a hint or anything else in Hoseok to establish romantic feelings. "But I-... "

"I know, darling. That is why I have to offer you the opportunity to be my girlfriend and my future wife."

Wife?

For a moment, you feel a rush through your body. You refuse to make a scene in front of all the few people present out of respect, you calm down by counting to ten slowly in your head, but it becomes very difficult for you as you continue to observe his comfortable smile and how he behaves. He seemed very sure of the affirmative respect you would give him, you snort angrily at the thought.

"I am sorry to have been misunderstood Mr. Hoseok, but I am not seeking a relationship with you and very sorry I reject any relationship beyond friendship." Your body lifts up, making Hoseok laugh well in advance of your final sentences. "I am engaged and my future husband is waiting for me, good afternoon."

Trembling, you leave the invitation in silence, leaving the luxurious premises in the same way. The waiters watching you with surprise, being an audience of rejection and humiliation on your part. Hoseok sighs, sipping his wine glass patiently pretending not to hear what the couple behind him are saying.

What a bad luck.

Life wanted to want to return all his damn vanity to him, making fun of him with your almost imminent rejection, obviously he knew that you were engaged and that you loved the poor man who had the bad luck to be his competition, but love is not always the important thing in a relationship or at least not of both parties. The voices of the waiters and the couple distract him from his plans for his next step, he clenches his fists angrily dropping the silverware on the plate calling the attention of everyone in the place.

"Filthy vulgar and talkative people, she will be my wife even if her words have been heard by her prying ears." He raised his voice, causing everyone to shut up. "It's just part of the script."

Maybe if the character who wanted to be the main loses the role of him, he should be the villain. The bad guy in the movie.

He read the invitation with meticulous delicacy, laughing at the little message you put aside. He thought about attending for a second, wondering if it would be nice to walk in to go straight to the altar and shoot your husband willing to take his place by your side. But that would be risky.

"Where are we going, sir?" He asked his driver with a smile.

"Take me to the best brothel in Seoul." He whispered delicately, smiling just as happily as before your rejection. I'd make you pay double the bill for your indulgence.

And likewise, the world is a truly small place. Jungkook nodded clearly uncomfortable obeying someone other than Mr. Jung. Hoseok cornered him like a helpless rabbit in the claws of a cunning fox, flashing his jaw in warning. He felt confused about his little assigned task, watching the direction pointing the right way to his chauffeur who only followed orders.

A small feeling of remorse ran through him, making him want to vomit when he remembered how Hoseok's face was so close to his with arrogance, as his hands roamed his arms gently. He was disgusting how he used his power to such a useless and demanding gain, sometimes without any realism.

"Little Jungkook, you have a very lovely name. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, you were so insignificant that you seemed pathetic to me." He whispered making her wince. "My father told me that you are good at obeying, I would like to test his theory." His cold hands were constantly running down his arms, making a shiver run through his body. "Still remembering well, I already did it before."

Jungkook was weak under his cloak of power, where he could so easily hide it. Lose it. "Yes, h-hyung." An inappropriate moan came from his lips causing him to cover her mouth in shame, a little touch near his crotch was enough to tempt him. Hoseok smirked, narrowing his eyes before walking away slowly wiping his fingers on his expensive clothes in disgust.

"I want you to befriend someone, don't ask, just do it. I'll tell you your next step when you're done." He ordered bored.

"We are here, young Jeon." Notice Jimin with a smile, Jungkook sighed wearily thanking him before getting out of the car ready to fulfill his mission.

I observe him for a few seconds standing in the entrance without doing anything, he was cleaning the windows of the building with force. He seemed like a nice person, certainly a bit humble. He approached making the man bow respectfully, even though he was older. Money can buy everything, they say.

"I am young Jeon, a new investor. May I have a chat with you?"

The man was surprised, no one who was someone by name and a few numbers along with several zeros would be able to notice his presence and at least greet him. A coffee sounded more intimate and undoubtedly inconvenient for him, but again out of respect he accepted the offer with a smile adorning his features.

"My name is Jungkook informally, but I like you and you can call me that." He spoke kindly.

"Namjoon, Mr. Je -... I'm sorry, Jungkook." He corrected sheepishly, making her smile.

He still didn't understand that he planned to do Hoseok with a building cleaner, but he didn't feel in a position worth asking. Furthermore, he would still not receive an honest answer.

He passed by the same place every day, pretending to enter the building only so he could meet Mr. Kim and talk about unimportant subjects. He gained his trust almost immediately, promising that he would give her a better job soon at his own company. He felt like an idiot taking advantage of the man in front of him in such a way for a simple whim from Hoseok.

He was an idiot, but he didn't want to go back to what he was before. A pet.

"I'm very happy, I think she will make a good wife." He responded with encouragement, seeing how Namjoon nodded looking for a picture of his fiancée to show him. He seemed excited, Jungkook understood his happiness after he explained that he saved for a long time to achieve his dream of getting married in a church. They were both in it together, in looking for a future.

He got lost in his thoughts, maybe if he lied to Hoseok about gaining trust from him, saying that Namjoon was a very cold and quiet man, he could make him forget about it. He sighed squeezing the coffee cup in his hands, Namjoon caught his attention by showing a photo of you smiling at the camera with a background of the bridge and the sun behind making a beautiful background.

Jungkook became alert, having seen that face before.

Hoseok had you as the wallpaper on his phone, he knew it was you because of your characteristic features and the scarf you wore in both photos. You were the new fad of a rich fool.

"T-is ... She's so cute, you're very lucky."

Namjoon nodded with a smile, apologizing before returning to his work upon being called by his supervisor. Jungkook put aside his cup feeling the bitter taste of his thoughts, Hoseok was planning something, he knew he was a son of a bitch who liked to keep his plans under lock and key and in a deep grave. He walked away calling for Jimin quickly, before being accosted by Namjoon who came running over, seemingly forgetting something of the utmost importance.

"I apologized Mr. Jeon, but I wanted to give you this personally. It is an invitation, in addition to the proposal to be the best man at our wedding. My fiancee said that it would be appropriate for me to choose someone and I decided that you were perfect, you can decline if you prefer. . " He spoke kindly, as always. Namjoon seemed to have no hatred in his heart, making his own feel heavy on his chest.

Could he bear the blame?

"It's my pleasure to accept her proposal, thank you for considering me. Good afternoon, namjoon-hyung."

He said goodbye by getting into the car as fast as he could, making Jimin look at him with derision. Obviously noticing his nervousness, Jungkook sighed hiding the invitation as much as he could before reading Hoseok's message ordering him to go to his house to sort out his affairs.

It seemed like a joke as he always looked so flawless, ready to humiliate him again.

"Jungkookie, I'm glad to see you again. Now, we'd better come in for our talk." He smiled making anger grow inside him, Hoseok sat on one of his expensive furniture before pouring himself a glass of wine. "Well, I heard from a little bird that you accomplished your task. Good pet."

"Don't call me that, hyung." He grunted in annoyance, making him laugh. "I can't go through with this, I did what you wanted. Leave Namjoon-hyung alone."

"Oh, they're close now really cute. But you forget that I can't fulfill your wish, because "Namjoon-hyung " is an essential piece in my little game." I speak mocking him as always. "Then we will move on to the next step ..." He thinking for a moment, before snapping his fingers. "Invite him to a bachelor party night at the brothel in the center, I already made the reservation. When they are there, leave him alone. A whore will take care of him properly, and maybe you can go make him a oral another yourself." He sneered evilly, reminding her of his past, Jungkook bit his tongue resisting the urge to respond properly. "Since you're clearly good at it, little pet."

"Yes, hyung."

Hoseok nodded saying for him to leave asap, tired of seeing his stupid face. He got up ready to do so, but his arm was taken tightly before bringing his face closer to hers, Hoseok let out a sigh, doing he could smell his breath of mint and wine combined. His hand lowered him into his pockets dangerously close to his crotch, he bit his lower lip to resist a moan escaping him, this had happened before and he begged it to stop forever. From his pocket, she pulled the invitation out, making her gasp in horror.

"Godfather of wedding, new facet of you... kookie." Rolling he eyes pushing him away from him, he fell to the ground before being met by a blow to his cheek. "What a shitty pet, you idiot."

Two days was enough for you to tremble at the thought. Your dress was proud to be seen, it was the most comfortable dress you could find at a fair price. Namjoon tried to enter but he was stopped by your friend who said that he will wait until you keep the dress out of his sight avoiding bad luck. A smile wavered on your face, everything was perfect up to a point.

Namjoon looked at you, a blush covering his cheeks before asking his obvious question. You didn't expect him to want a bachelor party, but you couldn't refuse because you simply trusted him.

Maybe it was your mistake.

You wished him luck, feeling an inexplicable emptiness. Your friends didn't offer to make one for you, they just sat on the couch in their living room talking about movies and arguing about what color the cake would be. It was the calm before the storm.

Jungkook felt a giant headache, the lights of the place were making him dizzy. Jimin had insisted on going with him to such an 'unusual' place to keep him safe. Namjoon had brought a couple of friends who seemed to be always close to him preventing the woman who did the job Hoseok had him do from becoming difficult.

He smiled, thinking that he would have no choice but to let it go. But Hoseok was not a good loser, and neither was he a good winner.

Hoseok:

He distracts his friends, and be careful what you say, kookie.

Received at 11:30 p.m.

He bit his lip, glancing around the bar, thinking he'd find him sitting somewhere spying on everything but nothing looked suspicious. He sighed, sending Jimin out for drinks with one of Namjoon's friends who he gladly accepted. He got up having pushed one away, the other who introduced himself as Jackson seemed more reluctant to leave his friend alone but with a few excuses about feeling bad managed to get him out of sight.

Believed that he would find Namjoon sitting right where he was before but no, he was gone. He felt a burning feeling of guilt, maybe if you didn't find out, nothing would happen.

"You're still the same as before, boss." Jimin sat down next to him, making him uncomfortable.

"Same as before? I am no longer a child."

"But you continue to obey as one. The manipulation they use on you is your greatest weakness, you are afraid, you obey without hesitation thinking about how this will indirectly affect you. But you never do anything to avoid it, you feel bad about this but you still sit here without doing nothing."

"What can I do, Jimin? I don't know if he really left by his will, or if they forced him. I don't want to enter a room in this dirty place and see him sleeping with another woman, because he wanted to and is a fucking infidel . "

Jimin ignored his words, falling silent after several seconds.

Feeling unhappy is a horrible feeling without a doubt. The curious eyes looked at you as if they themselves could judge your story.

Namjoon disappeared as quickly as the wind, many sharp tongues said that he eloped with a lover so as not to marry you. Others believed it was a kidnapping, maybe a robbery gone wrong and he was taken away or he was killed somewhere far away. A sob escaped you just thinking about it, the detective in front of you watched you cautiously.

"We don't know anything about him yet, but we will continue with the investigations."

You nod, without saying a word. Jungkook came in minutes later with a handkerchief in hand, he observed you before gently hugging you. You had the pleasure of meeting him after Namjoon disappeared that night, he introduced himself as a close friend from work and quickly offered to help you with the search.

Maybe he felt guilt.

"Thanks, Jungkook." You smile wiping the tears that escape from your eyes.

"They are looking for the best they can, they even alerted the Japanese embassies in case they might take him there."

"Japan?" Puzzled questions. "Why would someone take him so far? He's just a man with little money, that's ridiculous."

"We don't know, but I promise I won't rest until I find it."

Hoseok sighs bored, witnessing the moment. He had been bribing the bloody police force to hide the information from you about the discovery of your fiancé's corpse floating in the middle of the waters of the river where they used to go together. The only thing that was removed intact from his clothes was a small photo of you smiling, sitting on the banks of the same river.

The police mourned the death, but his faces left grief when they saw the money in his hands. He made fun of Jungkook as usual, who passed by him ignoring him when he went to his house to talk to his father, he knew that the useless little one was very meddlesome in the search for your future husband and ex-fiance. He rolled her eyes remembering how she used to look at him with discontent in meetings, suspicious of him.

He was a good detective, he couldn't deny the obvious.

"You didn't have to do this, a I'm sorry was enough." You say admiring all the bouquets of flowers that came to your house from him. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

He wasn't sorry.

"My dear, losing a loved one is something without a name. I can give you more than this if you promise to smile again, I love your smiles."

Jungkook snorts approaching you from behind, Hoseok to growl at noticing him so close and see how he puts his hand on your shoulder, apparently like support.

"Hyung, he didn't think it's a good time for ... That."

"But little kook, when is not a good time to express how you feel about your loved one?"

"When that person you say you love is crying over the loss of someone special because of evil people who don't know what remorse is. Do you understand that, hyung?"

"No, not really." He laughs cynically making you lose your patience, your little body comes between the two men, with one already furious and the other inadvertently giving up, you make a face of annoyance before speaking.

"Sirs!" You yell at him immediately, Jungkook steps back adjusting his tie. A mania that he had and that you noticed when he presented himself in front of you with regret, he did it when he was uncomfortable or nervous. "This is not the time to argue, I think you'd better leave my house if you're just wasting your time. Thanks for the flowers Hoseok, and Jungkook ... I, I want to continue the investigation on my own."

"That?!"

"What you heard, don't feel responsible for Namj's disappearance -..." You tremble correcting your words, making Hoseok scoff. "My husband, he was just at the wrong time in the wrong place. Thanks for your help, I'll see how to pay you very soon." Jungkook denies trying to insist but fails when you are already closing the door and giving him an apologetic smile.

Your breath feels heavy, you sigh falling to the ground sobbing again. You wanted to find Namjoon, but a large part of you was afraid of how. Dead, with another woman, with serious injuries or simply ... Alive but with trauma for life. You did not want to see him suffer, it was your judgment in life to see the person you love cry in his pain.

You observe yourself, telling yourself that you would be fine when you find it.

Your email seems to explode with thousands of messages received from people claiming to have seen a man like Namjoon near their homes. You ignore them knowing that most of them were false, the first few days you read all of them giving the police false clues that they quickly denied and dismissed.

You dry your tears, closing all the windows and cooking a simple instant soup, eating in absolute silence. It was overwhelming feeling alone at home, where you were supposed to feel safe indoors.

The rain, thunder, and evil outside seemed to be invisible within that place.

A chill runs through you, the control of the television seemed tempting to calm that neat silence and avoid your boredom. You give up turning on the TV, you see the first channel, you keep changing looking for the unknown, you didn't know what you wanted to see. Maybe a newscast saying they found a tall man with dark brown hair and charming eyes unconscious, with a couple of blows to the face and a few scratches but okay, safe, alive and waiting to see your face waiting for him with a warm smile.

Swearing never ever to let go.

A couple of tears slide down your cheek, ruining your fast food. A few knocks on the door manage to scare you, causing you to bite your lip in anger.

"Who is?!" Questions in a shout.

Nothing.

"It better be good ..." You say in muttered, you open the door expecting to see a child running to his house laughing at his childish joke.

But no, there is no one at the door. Just a small envelope that easily slipped underneath, you take it hoping it's a letter from the police announcing good news. Maybe a simple identification of suspicious faces, or footprints at the club.

"I hate being the bad guy, it makes me feel good.

He's dead, I did it for you. For me. For us. I want to make you happy but it's so difficult when I don't know what you want, tell me what you want.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

My heart is so weak in your cold eyes, I feel that you look at me with ignorance of my feelings. Do you want to find it? Do you want to do it?! Okay. Good luck with it. "

It was everything, plus a picture of a golden ring with a large diamond shining brightly. You wrinkle the letter in anger, tossing it into the first bin you found nearby. It seems that in the end, someone did want to joke with you.

Your days remained the same, you went out to work and in the afternoons you called each of the investigators to ask for new news, it was almost always a solid wall, there was nothing really important to report and little by little, they gave up.

Jungkook knocked on the door, he heard some footsteps approaching making him have a little hope. But when the door opened he saw you with a worried face, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest when he tried to get closer but you avoid him by leaving in a hurry. You were dressed in a long black skirt and a white blouse, you were elegantly ready for something.

"Where are you going?" He ask stopping your hurried pace, taking your arm tightly.

"Yo, listen... He... Or her, I don't know who it is but ... You know, he or her know where, he's alive I know. I just don't have time, please."

Your mouth moves wiht fear, you were hiding something but not from him. You were willing to tell him but not now. Not at that time.

"Let me accompany you, I can take you and I will feel better if you are safe."

You nod, letting go of his grip and running down the stairs, outside there is a very elegant car, apparently waiting. The driver smiles at you as if he had known you before, you make an uncomfortable face trying to continue on your way but Jungkook introduces him saying that he works for him.

"Jimin, he's Jimin. He's a good person and a great friend, I've told him about you before."

"I see, sorry." You speak with a bow before climbing to the back, Jimin just smiles kindly, as always.

"Where are we going today?" He asks animatedly, Jungkook takes your hand for support making Jimin remove the smile from him. Your nervous state and your afflicted face are enough for him to understand the situation.

You give him an address, Jimin searches the map being unknown to the place. Your eyes sparkle when the lights of Seoul are reflected in them, Jungkook holds your hand tightly in fear of letting you go again. He felt sick when you stopped calling him, cutting connections with him totally to this day. He spend sleepless nights looking for more clues, the only thing I had until that moment was the identity of the woman, she was a prostitute without anything special, when he spoke with her he seemed indifferent saying that he did not know Namjoon and that the last time he saw him It was when he drugged him and left him in a room as ordered.

The whore made fun of him saying that he would give him this information if he did not tell the police anything, he obviously accepted. Now he repented, the woman disappeared after that and days later she was found in a garbage container. It seemed to be a suicide, the container was from her building, the window of her old apartment faced just where she was supposed to fall if she threw herself without thinking twice.

Right in the garbage.

The wheels of the car made a thud when it stopped, it was a cabin, the only one nearby. You came down quickly thanking Jimin who just made a flirty face. Your hands trembled with the cold, you look at the letter that tells you where and when you should be standing at the door.

"Wait for me here, if we don't go out or you hear noises, you know who to call."

"Yes sir!" Jimin obeys with a laugh at the boss's serious tone of him.

"Y-you should go, I can do this alone." Your voice rises in the echo of the silent place, Jungkook rolls his eyes before offering his arm to you, making his decision clear.

You laugh calming your nerves, the door opens just as you both step close to it. A man stops them, saying that only you can enter the next room. You stop Jungkook who was to protest, you calm him down by leaving your ring in his hands with a smile.

Your body disappears when another man closes the door silently, Jungkook sighs looking annoyed at the guards who ignore him.

A message coming to his phone distracts him for a few seconds.

Jimin:

Should I call the police, Mr. Jung, or the hospital?

Received at 9:35 p.m.

Smile ready to answer before hearing the door open again, he approaching you to ask everything and at the same time nothing. Your pale face is enough to make want to hit the person who was inside with you. Questions remain in the air, your arms surround him while you sob for forgiveness.

From the shadows Hoseok smiles, admiring the document in his hand, your signature shiny as gold is glued to it. He thought it would be more difficult to convince you to accept his marriage proposal, but the precious and expensive ring fit you perfectly. He raised his hand proudly admiring his own, the wedding would be planned as soon as possible making him jump like a happy child.

You had accepted, with the promise that he would bring you back to Namjoon.

But it was never specified in the contract that he would be alive.

The wedding was in a meadow, outdoors with distinguished guests and a few friends and family of yours. Hoseok greeted everyone, by taking your hand tightly introducing you as his wife immediately. It's as if he wants to show everyone that you now belong to him, as if you were a prize.

And maybe if you gave him the key to her success.

"You better smile my dear, nobody wants to know what will happen if you don't." Her lips brushed your hand before placing a chaste kiss on it. "I love you, my beautiful protagonist."

You sob, tears falling from your face as you melt into his disgusting caresses. The man in front of you, your un-predestined husband. The one who stole the position of your true love, he was kissing you delicately.

"Don't cry, decorate the room just the way you wanted. The photos were a special touch ..." His teeth bit into the sensitive skin of your neck, an involuntary groan of pain escaping. "Love you."

Your eyes move desperately to find a photo where the beaten, abused or dead body of Namjoon cannot be seen. You scream when you find one where you see blood everywhere, you are resigned to look down at the ground where Hoseok was crouching kissing the inside of your thighs.

Your mind tried to process the idea that Namjoon had been killed, mutilated and thrown into a river that washed away his body along with happy memories. Farewell to him was prolonged as your body faded in pain.

Hoseok enjoyed the sight of your eyes tightly closed, his cock throbbing inside you as she fucked you like his wife.

The head of the bed moved crashing into the wall, and unconsciously your walls tightened around it causing it to release a curse aloft to the sky.

We got to the end of the movie, smiled as he dazzled the credits by seeing Jungkook's lost name. His little bitch who was his toy for many years, laughed remembering how she did wonders with her mouth.

He pretended not to know him when her father introduced him, taunting her hurt face.

He held you in his arms tightly, you had been struggling to free yourself from his grip as he continued to abuse you over-stimulating your pussy. Your eyes closed falling asleep from crying so much.

He caressed your face, kissing your dry, chapped lips.

The end.

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