#it probably just means he's confident in his manhood in a way that reminds me of the trans men* i know and love

[uncanny-tranny]

You know, I feel like other trans people might get this, but it's honestly kind of refreshing when a cis person has, like, undeniable tboy/tgirl/whatever swag. It's like when you come across somebody who speaks the same language as you and you only find out when they start speaking it, too.

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry XIII. El Pájaro Azul

A/N: This is smut, filfthy and meaningful because that’s a thing; and some angst but some fluff too. 

Thanks for all the support and the time you put not only on my story but also on talking to me, you guys are awesome! 

INDIE’S POV

Something stirs me awake. I don’t know when I fell asleep but through sleepy eyes I can see Harry tucking me into bed. He’s left my laptop on my desk too and the only light on is the one coming from his phone screen on the bedside table.

“What are you doing?” I croak.

“Tucking you into bed, Sleeping Beauty. Fell asleep on your Brad Pitt” he jokes “seems like you don’t like him that much to me.”

I smile at his silliness and feel him press a chaste kiss on my cheek.

“Don’t leave.” I let my sleepy mind take over.

“I won’t. I’m just not sleepy yet.”

“Well, cuddle with me.” I pout with my eyes closed and feel him getting into bed next to me.

I rest my head on his chest and let him invade my senses. His scent, the sound of his heartbeat, his warmth…

“Harry”

“Yes.”

“Next time we could watch Ad Astra.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I like that movie. You know Roy McBride actually reminds me of me.”  

“Okay, I guess this is the kind of silly things you say when you’re falling asleep.”

“He says ´so many times in my life I screwed up: I've talked when I should've listened, I've been harsh when I should've been tender´ and I’ve done that a lot.”

I feel his hands holding me. I like being this close to him.

“I am focused on the essentials, to the exclusion of all else. I'm unsure of the future but I'm not concerned. I will rely on those closest to me, and I will share their burdens, as they share mine. I will live and I will love.”

I fall asleep.

I’m cold. I shimmy to warm myself up and notice my quilt covers me up to my forehead. I finally open my eyes and realize I’m alone in my bed. Checking the time on my phone, I realize it’s four am. I remember Harry telling me he wasn’t going to leave before I fell asleep but he might have if he didn’t manage to sleep himself.

I can finally breathe through my nose without a single bother but my mouth is dry, probably because of the salty popcorn. I get up from my bed decided on drinking from the tap on the bathroom but when I make my way back towards my bed, my heart almost stops beating.

Harry’s sitting on one of the chairs on my sitting room holding his head on his hands and his elbows on his knees. He almost looks like a statue, a very sad one too, like he just lost a beloved one and it breaks my heart to see him like that.

“Are you okay?”

Harry jumps on his seat and lifts his head. I’ve scared him.

“Go back to bed.”

But I walk towards him wrapping my arms around my body. When I’m close enough and he looks up at me. I can see his eyes bloodshot and tired. He hasn’t managed to sleep.

“Leave me alone, Indie. Go back to bed.”

He’s getting mad. I can tell by the tone of his voice, harsh despite the low volume, and his tensed shoulders.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

I confront him but still take a seat on the chair in front of him. I hug my knees to my chest to fight the cold and when I rest my temple on my knees, I see his laptop closed on the table.

When I look back at him, he’s staring at me with a hard superior gesture, as if he didn’t need me nor want me here, but I can still see the desperation or even the pain in his eyes and that’s enough for me to stay. I don’t know why he’s seems so anxious or why it’s so hard for him to sleep but I guess I don’t need to.

I think about what he told me before dinner, about him wanting me to open up and tell him things and I open my mouth to tell him about my own nightmares as I bring my hand to his hair so I can remove it from his forehead.

“Can you just leave me the fuck alone?”

I freeze on the spot.

“I’ve said it once but I’ll say it again. No one talks to me like that, much less at my own home so either you stop or you get out.”

He sighs and drops his head on his hands again, tangling his fingers on his hair and contributing to the messy look.

“Sorry, Indie… It’s just…” I can hear how tired he is. “Shit, I’m sorry, baby.”

It must be terrible, to be tired and not to be able to sleep and my heart aches for him.

“You can’t sleep?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” His tone gets harsh again but he regrets it the second his eyes meet mine. He looks like a lost puppy. “I left the fucking pills at home.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Are you a living diazepam?”

I dodge his curt behaviour. I think I deserve it but I also think this might help him understand me. We’re curt when we’re not good.

Standing up from my chair, I slowly walk towards him and feel his surprised eyes study me as I place my hands on his shoulders and push his torso so that he’s opened to me instead of closing off. His lips part and I know he’s as lost as I am. I feel his eyes calmly study me, they roam my body up and down from my neck to my feet and then back up. He takes more time in some parts than in others, but in general, it’s a complete examination of my body still in my winter pyjamas.

I can’t quite read him but it scares me that I have this effect on him. He already seems to be more calmed and the only thing I did was stand before him motionless as if I was just another piece of furniture on my sitting room. He takes a deep breath and when our eyes meet, I know what that gaze means, I know what he wants. It’s the same eyes that melt me.

With a confidence I didn’t know I have and without really knowing why, maybe to satisfy the desire I can read on him, I cup his cheek with one hand and my pulse relaxes when, not only does he not pull away, but leans into my touch. He closes his eyes and sighs and when they open again I see something in them I’m scared to describe. Not that I would know how.

Feeling brave after his acceptance, I cup his other cheek and seeping in between his legs, I lean in to kiss him. I do it like I’ve never done it before; with a softness I didn’t know I had for him, letting the shape of his lips tattoo mine. There’s no tongue, no bites, no wetness. Just a kiss, a simple kiss, yet deep but calm and reciprocated. It’s the first time we kiss like this and even though it’s literally the most superficial kiss we’ve shared for it stays on the lips, somehow it flaps around the pit of my stomach and speeds up my heartbeat.

When we pull apart, I don’t know what to do with myself so I just stare at him not knowing what that was and I don’t know whether I am curious or embarrassed sut I try to read him. Maybe if I find out what he’s feeling I can understand what I’m feeling too.

“I don’t deserve you.”

I frown. Why would he ever say something like that? I told him nasty things last night, and even though I don’t think my opinion is that important, for all I know that must be the reason he’s staying up. I don’t tell him nice things, I don’t think that’s what he needs from me right now and instead I straddle him and press my lips against his again.

The mood has completely change again. This kiss is hungry and desperate and we both are gasping and fighting for air as his hands squeeze the back of my thighs. His tongue pushes inside my mouth but this time I don’t let him have control. I bite his bottom lip hard as a way of letting him know and he moans on my mouth. I don’t know why I want to bite him but I just can’t get enough of him.

“Baby, you’re gonna make me bleed.” He groans against my mouth.

He’s right, if I don’t stop now I just might so I pull away from his mouth and unfold a spate of gentle kisses along his jawline and down his neck. I lick a stripe of his tight, soft skin from the crook of his neck to the spot below his ear as if I could take his concerns away with my mouth and feel him gasping over me. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve never wanted someone like this before but it’s like I need to be closer to him, to have him in any way I can and I can never get enough.

His hands caress my body under my sweater with a gentle touch but I know he’s going to let me be in control now. I take this opportunity to get drunk on him and to learn his body like he seems to know mine. My hands caress his bare thighs behind my own as I keep kissing every inch of his skin on his neck and upper chest. I love how hot he is and how I can feel his muscles with my lips.

I kiss every freckle and lick the ink of his tattoos and feel myself getting wetter just by watching the soft hair on his chest. He’s so sexy it’s ridiculous. I want to touch myself so badly, my lips clench out of their own accord as I just drink him in but he’s so perfect and so warm and he’s here in all his glory just for me.

I get off from his lap and his green eyes shoot me a hint of panic but his lips part and his breathing gets worked up when I sit on my knees between his legs. I want to suck him off so much and it surprises me that the idea of having a dick in my mouth can be so enticing. I don’t know why I’m feeling like this but I’ve never been more turned on in my life and it doesn’t really make much sense to me because objectively, what do I get from sucking him off?

He's so quiet and I can’t read the way he’s looking at me. If I didn’t know any better I’d think he’s scared of me but when my eyes look down at his crotch, my breath catches in my throat when I see how hard he is for me. I lick my lips, my mouth is getting dry.

I bring my hand to his harden length and am surprised at my own confidence as I start pampering him through his boxers while my trail of kisses guide my hungry mouth to his arousal. I look up into his eyes as my fingers tangle with the hem of his boxers on either side of his hips, silently asking for his permission to put them down and I love the way he looks with lips parted and eyes wide opened as he lifts his hips for me to undress him.

My eyes still widen at his perfect erection. It’s everything I think about when I think about sex. Healthy and hard and wet and blood red. I wrap my hand around the base of his manhood and kiss his skin before I lick my way to the top. I look up at him and am gratified with a imagine of Harry biting his bottom lip, his chest wildly inflating and deflating every time he takes a breath.

I caress his length with a warm hand a few times before really holding him from the base and licking him like a kitten would lick an ice cream. I keep the eye contact and almost laugh when I remember what Olivia guessed about me. This is turning me on more than it should, I’m sure.

I wrap my mouth around his length and every time I bow my head I get him deeper and deeper, moisturising him with my hot saliva until I fill my throat with his tight, hot, throbbing length. Watching him I understand the thrill he gets every time he does this for me. It’s delightful to see the other person’s reaction.

Harry’s gasps, moans and grunts seduce and claim me as he fills my mouth. My sole purpose is keeping his sex as moisturise as possible as my hand massages the soft pearls crowning the baseline. I relax my jaw and try to keep my teeth to myself as he slips inside my mouth once and again, in and out, forth and back. My bowing is aided with his gentle thrusts but his intrusion only arouses me even more. His hand reaches out for my head and he whispers something I miss. I’m completely consumed by the way he sounds inside me.

He pulls from my hair and I supress my moans until I can’t hold them in anymore and let out a long throaty moan over him. He growls and curses and his fingers, tangled in my hair, slow my bows down.

“Go slower, baby.” He pleads. “I’m gonna cum otherwise.”

Isn’t that what this is all about? With a popping sound, I get him out of my mouth and admire how shinny he is with my own saliva covering his slick skin. It surprises me that it doesn’t look disgusting to me. Moreover, the thought of him, this wet, stretching my tight walls is driving me crazy. I suck his balls into my mouth as I pump him.

“Shit.”

I can tell he’s holding back again. I want to confront him about that because I don’t like when he holds back with me. He’s had me hard before and only picturing him fucking my mouth without any inhibitions, holding my head as he intrudes my throat in and out, brutally, choking me has me dripping down my thighs.

I start devouring him faster, sucking him inside my mouth and letting my tongue lick his precum as he grunts and pulls from my hair. A thought flashes through my mind, I want to see him and so I look up at him from behind my eyelashes and I see his jaw clenching and he frowns.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.”

I only suck him harder, bobbing my head frantically as I help my mouth with my hand in the part I can’t get inside and within seconds I feel hot, creamy spurts of his cum hitting my throat. I swallow it instantly for it shot deep enough for me not to have a choice and I feel my pulse down my lower lips as I lick my own lips and sit on my bottom, watching his chest go up and down in a frenzy whilst he calms down.

I’m out of breath too and my walls are tighter than ever because I can’t seem to relax them and I feel like I have my own fluids all over my inner thighs. I don’t know in what perverted way I’m looking at him but the way his eyes twinkle tells me he knows.

Very calmly and without saying a word, as if I had not just sucked him off, he offers me his hand and pulls me up from the floor and then he stands up from his chair so that he’s taller than me again.

I look up into the green of his eyes and he just stares at me for the longest time and there’s not a trace of a smile on his face but somehow he doesn’t seem serious either. I don’t know how to explain it. He seems… Intense, I guess that’s the only thing I can tell. His eyes never leave mine as he pulls from the hem of my pyjama pants with one hand and the other sticks to my belly, snaking down underneath my underwear until he touches the place I want him the most. He lets out a nervous giggle when he finds out how wet I am but I am so turned on I don’t even have it in me to feel embarrassed. He chooses not to torture me as he presses three fingers against my clit and starts fondling me with just the right pressure and my eyes roll to the back of my head as I moan out loud for him.

It's like the intense, serious Harry that let me have him in my mouth just minutes ago is suddenly gone and I can’t say I miss him when this cheerful, careless Harry is smiling at me. My hips start lifting from the table he pushed me at and they find his hand on their own accord, amusing him.

I gape and try to hold his gaze fighting my own eyelids and when I’m afraid my legs are going to fail me and I’m going to fall, I cling onto his bare shoulders with my hands and he rests his forehead on mine. Intense Harry is back. Our breaths mix together between our parted lips and as much as I want to see him my eyelids cover my eyes and I don’t fight them, feeling him is enough. When two of his fingers slid inside me while his thumb still massages my clit, it takes him less than a minute to have me arching my back and screaming.

His hand stays pressed against my dripping core as he kisses my opened mouth trying to give back some of the calm he took from me and he holds my low back with his other hand pressing my body to his. He tenderly bites down my plump bottom lip and pulls from it until it slips from his white teeth.

I think something just disappeared. I feel like he saw me naked for the first time and I’m still wearing all my clothes.

I pull away from him. Not in a rush way or even in a bad one, but I’m overwhelmed. I close the bathroom door behind me and rest my open hands on the marble sink and stare at myself in the mirror. It’s happening again. I need to lie down and put an order to my running thoughts but right now all I can do is cry.

It surprises me that he gives me this minute to myself so quietly and when I open the door, after having washed my face and remove my dripping underwear, I find him still sitting down on the chair I found him at first but now he’s got his sweater on. I open a drawer and get fresh undies on before I go look for him.

“Come here.” I tell him.

He sighs and gives me a look as if saying a blowjob is still not diazepam. He opens his mouth to protest but I don’t let him.

“Come on” I insist “let me help you.”

“Are you going to tire me out with sex?” He smiles.

“No, you idiot.”

He shrugs feigning disappointment before he follows me inside my room and watches me as I get under the blankets holding them up for him.

“Lie down on your stomach.”

He stands very still, cautiously watching me as if I was some sort of dangerous animal, but after some hesitation he chooses to trust me and does what he’s told. He’s watching me as I lean over his body and pull the cover up his bottom before I slip my hand under his sweater and start drawing figures with my nails on his back.

I don’t know if this will relax him as much as it relaxes me but this never fails to calm me down and get me sleepy. I think everybody likes these fingertip caresses. He can’t be that different to the rest of us. Plus, he’s wasted, he’ll fall asleep sooner or later.

After a couple of minutes, he suddenly sits up and it saddens me that he put up with my pampering for so little time but I try to supress my smile when I realize he’s just taking off his sweater so I have better access to his skin. I don’t want him to think I’m only doing this for him, I like touching him just as much as he likes to be touched, not just on the place that makes him a man.

He doesn’t take his eyes off him and he’s the most serious he’s been all night. I want to ask him what’s troubling him but I just cried myself a few minutes ago, who am I to judge him? I feel his muscles relax under my fingers and it’s so nice to caress him like this, he’s so soft it’s pleasurable to touch.

I take this moment of silence to try and unravel my own messy thoughts. I feel terrible for doing this to Dylan and I am scared shitless for doing this to myself but the truth is I care about Harry more than I dare to admit. I don’t want him to be sad or worried, not because that makes things bad for myself but because I just don’t want him to suffer.

He's so quiet and still I have to look up at him to check whether he’s asleep but his eyes are opened and still studying me.

“What’s on your mind?” I whisper.

“Nothing nice.”

I frown, but this time it’s not out of anger but out of concern. I guess he could have asked me the same thing and the answer would have been the same.

“Is it because of something I said to you?”

He doesn’t answer but that’s all the answer I need. It surprises me that my opinion can give him such a headache. I didn’t know whatever I could think about him was so important to him. He didn’t strike me like the kind of person who would care about what the rest of people thought of him what with all the times he’s tried to convinced me that I shouldn’t care about what people thought about us, and how naturally he just says whatever is on his mind and all that.

“Listen, Harry, I was mad and I’m such a bitch, you gotta know this. When I’m mad I say these things I don’t even mean just because-”

“It’s not about what you said before dinner.”

That surprises me.

“Then what is it?”

“Do you remember when I told you to stop beating yourself?”

I remember that night perfectly fine. That was the night he had his anxiety thing and I went home with him. That was also the night this whole thing really started.

“And every time I’ve told you to just let go and enjoy life?”

I nod. I also remember when he told me there was not enough Indie on my heart and how many times he’s pointed at the lack of life in me, knowingly or not. I swallow.

“Well that’s something that happens to me too and a lot more often than you think.” He smiles as if he knew perfectly fine what I thought of him and also how wrong I am. “I don’t know if you remember but before you fell asleep you started reciting these Roy McBride’s lines and it just got me thinking about a lot of things.”

I instantly blush. That I recited what? Nobody even knows how I secretly feel about Roy McBride and how identified I felt with some of the things he said during the movie. Oh, God, I hope I didn’t tell him that.

“About what things?”

Our voices are low even if no one can hear us.

“My life.” He starts as if I should have known better. “My thesis really did open so many doors for me but then I kind of just started working like that was all that mattered because somehow it was.” He pauses and his green eyes give me a look I don’t understand. “I got myself crazy busy with work so that I didn’t have to think about how… I had nothing else to… Worry about.”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before but I don’t like it. It’s like someone punched me on the stomach and I want to cry and tell him he never can say those words again but he’s opening up to me and I bet telling me this is not easy on him so I won’t shush him and make him feel as if his feelings are wrong. Yet this is breaking my heart.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and I love actually knowing who my patients are and hearing them out and giving them the time they deserve but… Sometimes I do worry that’s not enough and when you said all that shit to me about relying on those closest to you and sharing their burdens and letting them share yours and living and loving I just… I don’t know how long it’s been since I don’t do that.”

My fingers stop their movement on his back. I’ve been so unfair to him. I had no idea he had all these cloudy thoughts on his mind and that the reason he couldn’t sleep was because at night he sets them free like a snake. That has me thinking. Does he have a burden too? Is he afraid of sharing that too? Does he feel as lonely as I do?

I don’t know exactly from where I’m getting the strength is taking me to stay out of this and focus on him. I guess I’ve become so good at tiptoeing over my own feelings without getting in that I don’t even have to think about it so as to do it. It just comes natural to me.

“Have you never had like a turning point in your life? Where you had to reconsider what you were doing and if it was what you wanted or not?”

I watch my own fingers dancing over his back and nothing happens I don’t know how long for. Nobody says anything and nobody moves so I wonder if he even heard me but when I look up at his eyes, I feel like my throat is going to close and I’ll choke on my own woe. Crystal tears blurry his eyes and I want nothing more but for them to never spill out. It’s affecting me enormously to see him like this but it’s just too vulnerable, too close, and I can’t do nothing to take that away from him. I have no idea what my words have brought to his mind but he’s just passing it all on me. I hate that my own eyes fill with tears. God, this is not about me.

I don’t know what to do so I just wrap my arms around his shoulders and press him against my chest and he hugs me too. If he had done this to me, if he had made me talk until I ended up bursting my own protection bubble and crying, I would never forgive him so all of a sudden I feel so terribly guilty I want to scratch my own face until I bleed.

“I’m so sorry, Harry” I whisper on his ear as I hug him tight “Forget it, forget what I said and sleep, love.”

He slowly pulls away from me so he can rest his head on his pillow and closes his eyes and thank God the tears don’t roll down his cheeks, but I can see them on the inner corner of his eye next to his nose.

My fingers continue their voyage across his skin and I’d pay to have that frown removed from his beautiful face. I comb his hair out of his forehead praying to God he won’t pull away from me. To my relief, he doesn’t react to my touch and lets me pulls his hair away from his troubled face. We don’t normally do this, this cuddling in a non-sexual way, but I guess we don’t normally cry to each other either.

I let my head fall on my own arm and keep caressing his back until I fall asleep. I hope he falls asleep too.

[one-piece-dumpster-fire]

Can you do a scenario for Law s/o can take people souls and body parts (likes Law) so she decides to take something of Laws that calls himself a man (if you know what I'm mean) and hides to where he can't find her, she calls him on his transponder snail and tells him she that she wants to play a game. She torture Law by pleasuring him very slow until he's a moaning mess (like screaming and begging) later that day Law gets revenge. Can you make it a long and rough NSFW please.

LOVE how Tumblr just randomly decided to reload the site while I was finishing this up so I could re-do all of my changes again :)

I hope I got this right and that youdon’t mind, but I changed certain things up a little bit (mainly by having Law accidentally givehis girlfriend the ‘you-know-what’ and forgetting to take it backinstead xD

This goes without saying but big warning for some odd(?) filth under the cut~!

Dirty Law scenario: Taken

A goddamn fool. That’s the term Lawwould use to describe himself right now. His hands were shaking as hestared down at the bowl sitting right infront of him, almost as ifthis ‘special soup á la Bepo’ held the answer to all of hisquestions, especially those concerning his current situation. The surgeons cheeks wereflushed and sweat ran down his forehead as he impatiently bounced hislegs against the ground, sometimes loud enough to distract from allthe little groans that escaped from his throat. How the hell did he forget?How the hell could he forget?! For a moment his eyes wandered down to his lapto check again and make sure that this wasn’t just an awful dream-but no, there was indeed nothing there. Another groan escaped hislips as he looked across the table, past all the concerned lookingcrewmates that hesitantly slurped their soup, and right into the eyesof the culprit. A faux innocent smile was dancing on (Y/N)’s lipsas she slowly lifted her spoon while wiggling her eyebrows in Law’s direction as she noticed his staring. How. Dare. She.

Said man clenched his teeth andmuttered a low curse before lowering his gaze to look at the souponce more. Oh, this was far from being over.

Last night certainly was wild- after all, both he and (Y/N)did all sorts of crazy stuff to work off their desperation and pent up tension- and while it felt amazing to completely let go of allworries and concerns for a brief moment, the surgeon made a terriblemistake. At some point he… god, Law couldn’t even remember how exactly ithappened, but he must have…. 'taken off’ his dick and handed it to(Y/N) so she could have some ‘fun’ while he probably watched (which was, to be honest, one ofthe hottest things they ever added to their collections of odd kinks),but- appearantly, Law must have forgotten to… ‘reattach’ it afterwards. So the next morning, while stillfeeling calm and relaxed from the great sex, the grumpy pirate was quickto notice that his girlfriend was missing from the bed. Must have gotten up early,he quickly assumed and walked into the bathroom to get ready himself,which was when he noticed. Something was wrong. Or, to be morespecific, something was missing. An until this point unknown feeling of panic immediately spread through hiswhole body and mind, the former state of relaxation now completelygone as Law tried to recall what exactly happened to his cock lastnight.

And then the call.

God forbid that you just leave him be for one day and not pull something that would get Law all worked upagain. What kind of game was this to you? Hiding from him, evadinghim- even threatening to hurt his manhood if he’d dare to come lookfor you!!! This whole day was just pure torture, you were clearly using thissituation for your own sick amusement while he was forced to walk around thesubmarine, barely able to go on with his daily chores and things whiletrying to repress any urges rising up- because clearly you weresomewhere, playing with him (or rather, his cock) while he had to stay strong and endure all ofit. And ontop of that, you even had the gall to show up to lunch withthat huge smile on your face and a little box by your side- oh Law knewwhat was inside but couldn’t do anything about it- which you were aware of, of course. I mean, imagine ifhis crewmates caught wind of this? No, he would not deal with that, might as well open a hatch and drown himself in the sea.Clearly you must have had some sort of wicked plan or perhaps just felt confident enough to make such a bold move, because now the surgeon wassitting across from you with his whole body shaking while you allowedyour hand to wander into the box every now and then to edge him on even further.

Oh you were going to pay dearly forthis, Law silently swore to himself while his eyes burned a hole into the bowlwith soup infront of him. Luckily the awkward lunch break didn’tlast too long either, and after a few small spoons of what he assumed to be simple cabbage water the young surgeon rosefrom the table to head into the direction of his room, but notbefore coldly staring at you once more and basically giving you the silent orderto come along. A small giggle escaped your tender lips as you stoodup as well and grabbed the box, which was already rumored to hold some sortof forbidden treasure by Shachi and Penguin, and quickly followedafter your boyfriend. However, much to your suprise, Law almost immediately seemed to vanish from your sight as you exited the kitchen to accompany him through the hallway- but with a simple shrug you carried on, humminghappily as you made your way into his large bedroom. Well, and fromthere on out things got… wild. again.

You barely managed to fully enter the room as thedoor already slammed shut behind you, and a cold hand quickly wrapped itself around yourwrist and basically pushed you against the wall. Upon looking up you came faceto face with your boyfriend, who was still gritting his teeth with aflushed expression dancing on his tired features. That sight alone already caused another giggle toescape from you as you tightly held onto the box- which was undoubtlythe thing Law was after, even if his eyes were locked on your face.

„I think you have something thatbelongs to me…“ was all he managed to get out, his voice sounding strained and hoarse as his hand slightly squeezed your wrist. But instead of giving in and ending this little game as well as his desperation, you decided to continueteasing him. „Mh… do I now? I think you’ll have toremind me,“ you pouted and blinked a few times to fakeignorance, but a moment later Law’s other hand slammed againstthe wall right next to your face, his expression furious as he slowlypressed himself against you in an attempt to keep you trapped between the wall and his body.

„Enough with the games, (Y/N)-ya,“the young man growled and lowered his gaze, seemingly prepared to just go ahead andgrab the box- but you were faster and quickly freed your hand from his grip andreached inside of it, giving its content a tight squeeze. Lawimmediately threw his head back as he started to hiss with unbearablepleasure and pain as you reminded him of who it was that had the upperhand.

„Your tone seems pretty pointed rightnow… why don’t you relax a bit~?“ you smirked and started to rub alonghis shaft again, which was already stuck in a constant state of hardness thanks toyour treatment. But of course you would always stop with touching it before Law couldactually come. All this pent up pleasure and the need to release made your boyfriend feel and look quite animalistic, after all he found himself close to losing itmultiple times throughout the day. But now that you were right there infront of him, enough was enough.

„AAAAH!!“ you suddenly started toshriek as your back rubbed against the wall- Law was nowlooming over you with his face only inches away from yours, and thehand that had previously grasped your wrist was now forcing its wayinto your pants, where it immediately started to rub against the fabric of yourpanties. And as expected, carrying his dick around all day did havean effect on you as well, which caused him to groan with relief. Now you weren’t exactly 'wet’, butLaw could clearly feel the heat that was radiating off of your core.Out of habit your hips started to grind against his coldhand, which immediately send a shiver down your spine as youtightened your grip around his manhood, forcing the surgeon release another loudgroan.

„Not so much fun getting roughenedup, right (Y/N)-ya?“ he growled and aggressively pinched your sensitive nub through your panties, which caused you to cry out in amix of pleasure and pain. „Hnnn… you…“ a disappointedwhimper left your lips as you paid him back by vigorously stroking along his shaft, but that only encouraged Law to rub against your still clothed entrance even faster.

„Whatever you do, now that I got you right here… I can pay you backeven worse,“ he whispered hoarsely and quickly pushed yourpanties aside to insert a single digit into your womanhood, causingyou to arch your back and press yourself against him with need. Truthto be told, having him treat you roughly like this after what you puthim through this day was actually exactly what you had anticipated,and the way Law looked at you, almost as if he was a feral beast…it was too much to handle. A loud moan escaped from your throat asyour hand held onto his arm while he continued to finger you, but unfortunately his mind wasn’t really as clouded as you had expected,and that small moment of carelessness from you was enough for Law to smirk ashe quickly pulled the box from you and almost jumped backwards, causinghis fingers to leave your hot womanhood in the process. „E-Eh…?“you blinked a few times as you noticed that the box as well as his hands and body were gone, and upon looking back at your boyfriend you couldn’t help butpout. Seems like your little game came to an early conclusion…

„Oh… not fair! You tricked me!“you huffed with faked anger as Law reached inside the box, seeminglyignoring you in the process, and pulled out his hard and erect cock. „Goddamn it, (Y/N)-ya…“ he hissedthrough clenched teeth as holding his manhood alone already send morepleasure down his body, but then a quick look at your squirming figure caused a light bulb to suddenly go off inhis mind as Law‘s eyes locked on you- or, more specifically- acertain spot between your legs… 

Within the blink of an eye he waslooming over you again, his face cold and unmoving as he quicklypulled both your pants and panties down with one swift motion. „L-Law?“ you tilted your head tothe side as you reached out to wrap your arms around your boyfriendfor support, unsure on what he was going to do. I mean… judging byhis actions you’d assume that he was going to fuck you like usual, but… Hisdick was still not where it belonged, so what was he doing?!

„I bet you had a lot of fun doingthis last night, (Y/N)-ya… Too bad I can’t remember most of it, butperhaps this’ll help jog my memory…?“ he muttered and spreadyour legs with one hand while the other one was tightly holding ontohis still detached dick, now bringing it closer and closer to yourbo- oh. Was this it? Your eyes widened with shock as he suddenlyrammed his length inside of you, immediately causing your eyes to rollback with pleasure as he pulled it out again, only to slam it rightback in. You could feel his hot and ragged breathing as sweat randown Law’s browbone; his eyes were half-closed as he moved hisdick in and out of your dripping core at a fast pace. This was the sort of relief hewas seeking the whole day because of you and your ‘game’, and it didn’t matterwhether it was his hips or hands that allowed him to bury himself inside of yourdepths, he just needed to feel you. His hand speed up more and more as moan after moan rolled offyour tongue, your walls tightly clenched around him as the sight of Law fucking you with his detached dick only turned you on more and more.

Neither one of you was able to keep this going for long though, and after a few more powerful thrusts you felt your orgasm approaching- which caused Law to groan and lift one of your legs over his shoulder so hecould thrust in even deeper and fully bury himself in your warmth until he reached his climax and paintedyour insides white. His hand was keeping a tight hold on the base of his cock as his entire body began to shake, and a moment later you released a loud cry of your own to signal that you reached the edge as well.

Did he ever manage to fuck you that deep before…? Probably not, and as you tried to calm down yourbreathing your gaze wandered down to his now stained dick stillresting in his hand, which caused a small laugh to mix in with your panting. Your arms were still wrapped around his neck as you leaned forward topress a playful kiss to his warm cheek before whispering:

„So… are you all better? Then, can I have my little toy back now~?“

[erotica-couple]

Honey... I Fucked Up (Part 1)

I’m not particularly proud of the events I’m about to describe, but they are what they are. Still, contrary to the famous adage, this story is probably proof that the greatest of ends can sometimes indeed be achieved by the basest of means.

What I remember about that day is… quite confusing. Some of it I remember with crystal clarity, but other parts of it are a haze. I was having a late night with the girls. It wasn’t a particularly special one – we’d been on benders like this one time and time again. The only difference was that before this night, I had taken a pretty long break (almost a year) from carousing with my girlfriends after settling down with a guy I was particularly enamored with. It wasn’t every day that I met a man I wanted to wake up to over, and over again, so I took the effort to stave off partying while I focused on building our relationship together. 

 Things had been going beautifully between us, and I was sure I loved this guy. We’d even gone out and found an apartment together, and while that might not be a huge step for some people, it was for me. Before meeting Charlie, I had never even been mildly interested in setting up shop with a man. I was, as my girlfriends often reminded me, naturally averse to long-term commitments, and the fact that I’d stuck it out for almost a year with Charlie floored some of my closest friends. There was something magnetic about him – he was charming, funny, sweet – not at all possessive. He wasn’t a psycho, like some of the men before him, but he wasn’t boring either.

 In short, it had been awhile since I’d been out on the town. I didn’t go out that night with the intention of being unfaithful, obviously. In fact, I had told myself I was going to keep the alcohol intake to a minimum and try to get my high off the music. The club we had been planning to hit up that night had a DJ playing that week that I was really into, so I was confident at the time that that alone would be enough to get me going for the night. 

 As with all such promises to oneself, my optimistic pledge fell apart quite quickly. At the behest of my particularly unhinged friend Cheryl, I knocked back a few too many shots of vodka and was completely lost in the music, the crowd and the thumping, pumping atmosphere. My hips were winding, my hair was swinging, and I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

 That was when he showed up. One of the (very) few things I remembered about him was the smell of his perfume – fuck me, it was strong. The masculine scent shot through my nostrils, and it made me take note of his presence immediately. I was a sucker for manly, woody smells and just the thought of the kind of man he might be was enough to send a tingle of excitement down my spine. Seconds after he pushed up against me, I felt his hands rest on my hips, and his stubble grazing up against my cheek as his lips pressed up to my left ear. 

 “You’re sexy,” was all he said, in some fucking erotic, exotic accent.

 I remember instantly swooning in his firm, masculine grasp. 

With alcohol coursing through my veins, it didn’t take long for things to get more risqué. My hips were gyrating against his, swinging to the rhythm of the music, and his hands were all over me. I should have stopped him when he reached up to my breasts and squeezed them through my dress in his large, rough hands, but I just… couldn’t. I’d barely caught a glimpse of his face, but his aura… it was so commanding, so gripping, that I let him touch me wherever he wanted to. 

 Still, even at that point, I didn’t expect things to go much further. I knew we would fondle on the dancefloor, and I knew I would probably soon succumb to the curiosity of wanting to feel his crotch in my hands through his jeans, but I told myself I would end the tryst the moment he asked me back to his place.

 Still, everything felt wrong. I would like to pretend like I thought harder about what I was doing, that I did my best to resist temptation but yet succumbed after an immense battle of the wills, but that would’ve been a lie. I had barely put up a fight. From the moment the stranger laid his hands on my hips, I was putty in his hands. Every base pleasure in my life before Charlie, every careless tryst I’d had, every meaningless fuck I’d spread my legs for – those were the things this stranger represented to me. He was everything I used to be, everything I thought I’d escaped from in the last year. In under fifteen minutes, he’d shattered any idealistic notion I had that I could live a quiet, ‘normal’, muted life. He reminded me, as his hands slipped under my dress and against my naked body, that I was a fucking slut, and that I loved every second of being one.

 The girls had seen what was happening, and I wanted to hate myself for proving them right again – for proving them right that my thing with Charlie wouldn’t last, for proving them right that I couldn’t keep my legs closed in the presence of a rugged, studly man – but I didn’t. Don’t get me wrong – I loved Charlie. He was the only man in years that had held any weight in my hustle-bustle of a love-life, the only one that felt like he truly, truly mattered. But that didn’t change the fact that I was weak, and it didn’t change the fact that I was irresponsibly insatiable. Even as I felt a deep, nagging guilt towards Charlie, my body continued to acknowledge that the stranger groped me in all the right ways. I was wet. I was so fucking wet for him.

 This was where things got hazy. The stranger put his lips to my left ear again and told me to follow him. I knew where things were going, but I put off my earlier resolution to put a stop to things for just a little longer. I wanted to feel his cock in my hands first, just for a tiny, tiny second. Then, I told myself would go back to Charlie and beg him for his forgiveness.  

 But my plans must have changed, because the next thing I remember in my clouded cocktail of alcohol, adrenaline and ravenous desire, was finding myself in the toilet in the back of the club, closed in a stall with the man. Maybe I’d succumbed because I had already felt how big he was when he was grinding up behind on me on the dance floor – that’s how big he was, I literally felt him on my ass through his fucking jeans – and I knew what was going to happen next, or maybe I was still lying to myself; lying to myself that I wasn’t about to go all the way with a stranger I’d only met fifteen minutes ago.

 When the man pulled his trousers off and I saw the length of his cock, I’ll never forget how quickly my jaw dropped. Before I’d seen his rod, I was still aware enough of what I was doing to feel pretty shitty about the whole thing – I had something good with my boyfriend and was disappointed with how easily I’d submitted to some fucking handsy, muscular douchebag in a club. But the moment I saw that thing, I knew I wasn’t just going to tug him off and have him cum on my thighs. I knew I was going to spread my already dripping, warm cunt for him right in that dingy stall, and that he was going to fuck me good when I did.

 I didn’t resist when he pushed me up against the stall and snaked his thick, fat cock right under my dress and up to my pussy. It slipped in easy. His head pushed into me, and when the rest of that thick, throbbing shaft followed my knees buckled immediately and I screamed in fucking ecstasy. It was SO much bigger than anything I’d had, and after months of just taking my boyfriend’s satisfactory yet significantly smaller cock, it felt like a fucking revelation. The way he split me open, and the way I could feel his manhood probing me – it was so, so much more animal… so much rawer. I could actually feel it throbbing through me, the pulse of his rod was that strong. 

 He gripped my hair in his hand, pushed my face up against the wall of the stall, and fucked me senseless. The stall rattled, though I was sure the other patrons of the club’s toilet were used to seeing (and hearing) strange things. I was too busy whimpering, gasping and moaning to be bothered with what people I couldn’t see thought of me, and too busy being jack-hammered to feel guilty about my actions anymore. In fact, I couldn’t help but compare the men’s respective prowess’ – having not had another man besides Charlie in almost a year, admittedly, left my sexual appetite wanting in certain areas. He liked things slow, and often struggled to take control in bed. I loved him, but I often left the bedroom wanting just a little more.

 And now, I was getting everything I missed out on. I was getting it all. No foreplay, no condom, no romance – just pure, unadulterated sex. As his cock jammed its way in and out of my cunt, he pulled my dress up to shoulders and massaged my bare tits in his hands. Pinching, rolling and smacking, he found the difficult balance between pain and pleasure, and sent me into one of the most intense orgasms I’d had in my life. As I came on a stranger’s cock in a poorly lit bathroom stall, I felt the man rest his forehead against the back of my head. He was breathing heavily, and his grunts grew louder, and more labored.

 He was going to cum.

 I was going to let some fucking stranger cum inside my pussy. I knew I was going to. I wanted it. I wanted to feel that first, violent shot of sperm bury itself deep into my cunt. I wanted him to fill me up with splashes of his warm, oozing cum. I wanted to feel it slowly spill out of me when he pulled the length of his shaft out of my pussy. And so I did. I let him cum inside me, knowing I was doing Charlie wrong.

 I remember very little of what happened after.

 ~

 Obviously, quite some regret followed when I woke up the next morning, sober, with a pounding headache, and the guilt of what I’d done weighing on my mind. My cunt was sore, and I swear there were traces of the stranger’s cum still oozing out of my pussy and onto the bed I shared with my boyfriend that night, in the new apartment we’d only just found for ourselves.

I couldn’t remember how I got home, but I was in a flimsy night-dress and looked reasonably kempt. I figured that my girlfriends had probably made sure I got home safely, though I didn’t think they would have told Charlie about what they likely knew had happened between me and the man they had seen me dancing with.

 I finally mustered up the courage sometime around noon to tell Charlie about the events of the night before. As much of an impulsive slut I was, I was no liar. If Charlie was going to dump me for it, I had braced myself for that too.

 “H-honey…” I heaved, breathless and struggling to look him in the eye, “I fucked up.”

I was taken completely off-guard by my boyfriend’s reaction to my confession. In fact, I… couldn’t believe my ears. The conversation we had that day would turn out to be the beginning of a loving, yet incredibly kinky chapter in both our lives.

[bubblyani]

His Type : Part 2 (Ronnie x Reader)

Ronnie Kray’s now Two Shot “His Type”

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Swearing, Dom! Ron Kray, Sexual Themes (18+)

Author’s Note: Still remember when @meer0rauschen asked that lovely question, and the lovely people who seconded and thirded that (you know who you are😘) I’ve opened my mind to the possibility of a part 2 for this story. And my goodness, I felt hot writing this. The sinning continues once again. Hope you all enjoy!

Check Part 1 HERE

“What’s wrong with you Y/N?”

You looked up from your lunch. Teddy and Leslie eyed you suspiciously as you were all finally having lunch at the bar. 

“What do you mean?” You asked innocently. With his elbow on the table, Teddy pointed at you. 

“You’ve be awfully quiet since the car ride to lunch...” he said with certainty, “What happened?” You gulped, unable to answer. 

“Did Ronnie say anything mean to you?” 

“No!” You replied a bit faster than you should, as you looked down and resumed eating your food. Keeping a secret was not easy, especially when it was something as unexpected as the one you shared with Ronnie Kray a little while ago. Plus you had a hard time acting normal, for example, when Ronnie’s gaze did not leave you for one second since then and how hot your face kept feeling. 

To make things worse, during work, all you ever felt was impatience, distraction and frustration. Your leg wouldn’t stop shaking, and you kept looking at the clock too many times, waiting for the time to pass. It had been a long time since you felt all these emotions spread evenly in every inch of your body. 

 When the clock finally struck and you were finally free from the confines of work, life felt like it was full of endless possibilities for you. You walked home, expecting for a familiar car honk, or the sound of a slow engine behind you. But all you heard were either silence or all of that, for someone else. 

Suddenly, you couldn’t help but wonder whether Ronnie really meant what he said. Did he get preoccupied with The Firm and forget? Or was he just having a laugh about this whole thing?

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Slowly getting into the bathtub, a part of you already had already given up on the idea and wanted to forget about it, instead of feeling like a fool. Yet the more positive side of you decided to feel grateful, and proud of the exciting encounter itself, and slightly confident that Mr. Kray might actually show up at your door. 

The water splashed whenever you’d move around to clean yourself. The sight of your naked form, glistening with the soap filled warm water made you study yourself with a new fascination, imagining what it would be like, to be touched, held and ravished by him. As you continued, the daring side urged you to clean yourself even further down, with lighter strokes, as if he was there,  touching you already. But you were not an idiot, for you did not want to disrespect the man. And if he never shows up, the former could always be an option. 

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You wrapped the silk robe tightly around your body, the moment you managed to dry yourself with a towel. Butterflies did not seem to escape your stomach as you sat there in the living room, and you finally heard a knock on the door. 

Making sure you were not hallucinating, you tiptoed to the door, to look through the door hole. Butterflies somehow managed to multiply themselves within, followed by your breath quickening. You opened the door, keeping yourself composed. 

 Ronnie Kray stood outside the apartment hallway. No words were exchanged, the two parties were fully aware of the activities that will surely come to past tonight. 

 You moved to the side, allowing him to enter. His eyes never went past your body, especially when your erect nipples were quite visible through the thin robe. 

 “May I take your coat?” , You decided to speak first, trying to reach for it. Suddenly he grabbed your hand tightly.Pulling the hand to his face, he silently sniffed your fingers to your surprise. 

“Did you touch yourself before I got here?” He asked, in a dark tone. Biting your lip, responded: 

“Does washing yourself in a bath count?” 

With a grunt and much force, he pulled you to him, attacking your lips with the same energy, savoring what he had missed since the lunch break. Kissing him back, you were happily surprised. 

“That ..” you began, “was a nice way to start the night” you said breathlessly the moment your lips left his. But his grip on your hand did not. He owned you, and you did not mind that. 

Gently pulling him forward, you guided him to the living room. 

“Please ...” you said in a soft tone, as you unbuttoned his coat,” take a seat” eyes were in silent conversation as you helped him take it off before he made himself comfortable. 

You stood so close to him, your legs managed to brush against his knees. The way he observed you, you felt like a animal being watched by it's predator. Leaning forward, Ronnie casually got a hold of the edge of your robe, feeling the material with his fingers. 

"Silk is such a nice material" he commented, "Such a shame this has to come off" he continued, his dark gaze moving over to your face, setting you on fire. 

You knew better than to defy Ronnie Kray, you knew enough. Resting your hand on the knot, you slowly undid it. Opening the robe in equal speed, you got rid of yourself of it, throwing the light material back, as you finally stood  in front of him, naked. "It is a shame" you replied, watching his eyes scan your foreign nude frame.,"Maybe I should” You said, as you slowly turned behind”... get it back-" 

"On your knees" he commanded. 

Obedient as you were, you lowered down, crawling on all fours towards the piled robe, while he watched you from behind. Pushing your buttocks up, you lowered your upper torso down to the ground, lithe as a snake. You hummed in pleasure, pushing your rear up higher, feeling the softness of the silk on your cheek, fully aware of the fact you're giving Ronnie a clear view of your throbbing slit. He watched calmly, although his shaft was not as calm as he was. 

"Enough! Crawl back...now" 

Returning to him, you noticed the growth in his trousers. You took your sweet time, running your hands up and down his thighs, till you finally decided to halt at his belt. Keeping your eyes on him, you bravely unbuckled his belt. As you unzipped, you took his manhood out, whilst licking your lips with a great appetite. Touching with the upmost delicate nature, your mouth watered instantly. But that thirst could not be satisfied when he quickly grabbed you by the hair, tilting your head over to him. 

"Who told you, you could do that?" he asked sternly. You opened your mouth. 

"N-no one" you answered, trying to hid your nervousness. He pulled you closer, his shaft accidentally brushing against your breasts, causing a whimper to escape your lips. 

"Sit" he said, suppressing the need to express his arousal. He leaned back when you climbed up on him, facing him straight as you sat on his lap. 

"Undress me" 

You understood the game he was playing, and you could not help but enjoy it. He was not like other men...no bullshit was involved. 

You found it hard to concentrate when you took his glasses off, for his growth kept brushing on your buttocks. You gasped. As you put the spectacles away, wetness appeared in generous amounts instead.

Slowly, you unbuttoned his waist coat. Without removing it, you quickly moved your hands to the tie. 

"No..." he stopped you, "do it properly". There it was, more fire. 

Moving forward, he watched your body contort, stretch when you took off his waist coat, causing both of you to be centimeters apart. You swallowed, staring at his inviting lips as you held his waist coat on your hands. Soft moans came out your parted mouth, when you were desperate enough to rub it against your chest, feeling the material on your skin. As you heard his fist clench in frustration, you swore you almost saw Ronnie start to curse under his breath, but stopped himself. 

Dropping the waist coat down with one hand, you took hold of his tie with the other, moving even closer that you felt his breath on your collarbone. You tried so hard to focus undoing his tie when his hardened member sprung up higher, resting in between your butt cheeks. Ignoring it all your might, you fought back by holding his tie between your teeth, when you moved over to his shirt. 

"F-fuck" finally you heard his curses escape softly. Feeling his walls coming down, you threw the tie away, taking his right hand, placing it on your left breast. You resumed unbuttoning while feeling his hand explore you. You loved his hands on you. So you were not ashamed to do so. His palm brushing on your hardened bud along with the feel on his rings on your sensitive skin, sent frantic signals of pleasure, causing the throbbing below to increase. 

After unbuttoning the last one, you pulled the shirt down. His other hand took hold of your other breast, both hands now partners, as they pinched and pulled, watching you gasp without wasting any time. 

Stomach muscles clenched up tight, you were burning up, and you felt impatient. You pulled his wife beater up much faster than you did with the other clothes, and he did not seem to complain. Probably the fact his concentration was somewhere else. You made a sound in frustration when his arms got in the way of you taking the last piece of clothing off his torso. You were stopped when he grabbed your hand. Taking a deep breath, you wondered what exactly did he want you to do this time. When he pulled you forward, you knew why, as he kissed you with an intense hunger. 

It felt competitive, it felt intense. He did not want to take it slow, for you quickly felt his tongue demanding you to present your own. Quite the reminder from this morning. 

Arms snaking around your waist, he got up, with you wrapped around him. Your fingers frantically running through his hair, revealing the look you witnessed for a short period before in the car. Kneeling down, his mouth did not leave you when he placed you on the rug. Leaving to yourself, he stood up, stripping the rest of his clothing as quick as he could. 

The sight alone felt like a penetration, when he watched you, panting and naked. With your legs pressed together, you lay there watching him. You slowly parted them open as your fingers slowly ran down your stomach, then even further. 

"No fucking thing goes in there before I do!" he ordered, kneeling down on top of you when he parted your legs fully open with force, inserted himself in you in a flash. You cried out in surprise, but no surprised when you felt him enter you with convenience as your insides literally flooded with arousal. 

He continued to ram into you while he pinned your hands above your head, each push was strong enough for you to move along with him. 

"Ron-!" you moaned. Those moans were later promoted to cries of a loud variety in time as he dipped his head on your neck. Biting into your neck, he left hickeys wherever he could as he moved down to leave more on your chest. 

"Oh...fuck yes" you cried out, pleasure arising through the pain as he marked you. 

Grunting with each push, he made himself home inside you with enough thrusting, that he finally felt his release through gritted teeth. Throwing your head back, you felt him pull out, raining himself all over your stomach.

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Puffs of smoke left his lips as Ronnie smoked his cigar. Sitting on the armchair, he had you wrapped around him, both still naked. You took the opportunity to play with his loose hair, appreciating this rare sight that you did not get to see that often. 

"I would never hurt you, you know" he said, making you pause. 

The fact that Ronnie Kray could have a small dose of tenderness in him warmed your heart. 

"Of course...." you replied, running a finger along his cheek "but it was nice to know I did something risky with you. It'll be a lovely thing to remember by" you said, the warmed heart feeling a bit heavy, knowing the fun had ended so quickly. His hand suddenly held on to your waist tightly. 

"Who said this was the only time?" 

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Check my MASTERLIST for more.

[fightpunk]

hey there! if your requests are still open, could i get some hol horse/n'doul or hol horse/steely dan? anything, sfw or nsfw, that pops out at you is perfectly fine! i can give you more details on how i imagine their dynamic if you'd need :D

A coming of age tale where Hol “Himbo” Horse realizes that everyone who works for Dio is a threat to his sexuality.

This is actually pretty sfw and pretty dialogue heavy! Hopefully I matched your dynamic between these two.

Out of all of those working under Lord Dio, Hol Horse had to be N’doul’s favorite. He’s not very loyal, and he’s so blatantly disrespectful to Lord Dio that it irritates him, but he is the most entertaining stand user N’Doul has met in the mansion so far. Cowardice, arrogance and a nasty habit for telling tall tales all wrapped up into a man who somehow manages to remain charming in an idiotic way. But, just because he’s amusing, does not mean N’Doul wants to be around him. He likes to keep his distance, like admiring an animal in its habitat.

So when N’Doul is told he’ll be working with Hol Horse, he’s not exactly excited about it. He’d much rather work alone, or with someone more on his level, not some boastful clown, but he it could be worse. At least he won’t be bored.

But he apparently will be annoyed because the trip there is annoying conversation after another and the moment the pair step into the hotel room, Hol Horse quickly begins chatting up N’Doul about going out on the town and getting drinks.

“Lord Dio is expecting us to find the Joestars.” He reminds his current partner. They have a duty and need to be prepared for anything.

Hol Horse shakes his head as he chuckles. “Mister Dio doesn’t have to know. We’ll get it done.” N’Doul can smell the Tobacco of Hol Horse’s cigarette long before he takes it out of its pack. His lighter flicks on, lighting the end of the cigarette only for a menacing, clawed hand to swipe the item from between Hol Horse’s lips, making the man squeak in surprise and back away.

“Yes, we will get it done. As soon as possible.”

Hol Horse eyes Geb wearily, watching the stand return to its owner before he reaches to pull another cigarette from its pack. He casts a glance at the other to make sure he won’t get another little surprise before flicking his lighteron once again.

“Y’know, you’re a real stick in the mud.” Hol Horse strides over to one of the hotel beds, plopping down on it and getting comfortable before lighting his new cigarette.

“It’d be quick. Hell, we might even run into those Joestar fellas while we’re out.” He takes a drag. N’Doul silently takes note of where his voice has moved in the room.

“Maybe we’d find you a girl too. Women love a pretty face like yours.”

Hol Horse’s priorities really are out of order. Drinks and girls? Apparently, this was a vacation and not a mission. Why Lord Dio still lets him live is beyond him.

“Really, Hol Horse? Pretty?” N’Doul wrinkles his nose at the overwhelming scent of smoke as well as the silly little comment.

“Well, it’s just a compliment.”

N’Doul feels an opening. An opening to toy around with the cowboy. His tone of voice sounded a bit off. Like he was being accused of something.

“That’s strange coming from you, when you so desperately try to avoid any semblance offinding another man attractive.”

“Now wait a minute, don’t turn this into something else! I was just saying!”

N’Doul is smirking now. He’d be lying if he didn’t say it was amusing how quickly the mangot to squirming. He’s heard Lord Dio tease him like this before, even Mariah. Hol Horse is just too easy to harass.

“Turn this into something else? What do you mean, cowboy?”

He hears Hol Horse struggling to form a sentence, fumbling over his words.

“Look, I was just saying you got a good face is all.”

“So you think I’m handsome then?”

It’s silent. Hol Horse sucks his teeth. He’s so dang frustrated right now. Why’s everyone gotta pick on him? A man gets nervous when getting hit on by a vampire and now he’s the butt of every joke? N’Doul is handsome, but now he doesn’t want to just say it and have the man keep making fun of him. He can’t even give a guy a compliment. And he’s just so quick to retort.

“Oh? you’re so quiet. Are you thinking about it? Should I have said pretty instead?”

Well, looks like N’Doul isn’t gonna let him avoid the question.

“All I was saying was that you could get any woman you want. That’s all.”

“Could I get you?” It’s quick, a viper striking the moment Hol Horse stops talking.

He pauses before shooting a frown at N’Doul, not that he can see it though. His partner looks so smug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his full lips, his eyelids sitting low over his milky white eyes, lashes all thick and long. Why’s he feel all nervous and hot all of a sudden? Hol Horse takes a long drag of his cigarette before putting it out in the complimentary ashtray.

N’Doul tilts his head to listen better. He can hear Hol Horse moving around on his bed, but he’s gotten very quiet. He can hear the dry clicks of his throat when he swallows. How nervous he’s become. It’s very telling of how Hol Horse truly feels. He should work on that.

Finally, he gives up, huffing out his answer.

“I don’t know, N’Doul, geez. Whaddya want from me? A Kiss?” He mutters most of hissentence, but N’Doul’s ears are sharp. He catches all of it.

“Since you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind one.”

Hol Horse chokes on his spit. Coughing harshly as the spurs on his boots jangle from all his movements. N’Doul chuckles lowly. He can’t help it. The cowboy has some amazing reactions sometimes.

“You… you serious?” He sounds so shy when he asks, which only makes N’Doul’s smile grow.

“Of course, cowboy. I’m comfortable enough.” It’s a dare. ‘I’m comfortable with my sexuality, unlike you’. It’s implied and Hol Horse knows it. A low blow to see how far He wants to go to prove himself as being open-minded and comfortable. Gotta dig at his manhood to get some more reactions.

Hol Horse grows quiet, seemingly weighing his options before his bed creaks when he gets offit. He’s careful and slow with approaching the other man, watching him closely as he eases into his personal space. He wouldn’t want Geb to pay another visit.

He smells like Tobacco smoke and N’Doul can feel how close he’s standing in front of him. He can hear him sucking in shaky breaths.

Hol Horse is fucking sweaty. His face is probably strawberry red. It’s a good thing N’Doul can’t see how terrible he probably looks, but it still feels like he can when the man has his head tilted in his direction, smiling smugly up to him.

N’Doul waits patiently. He’s never met anyone so confidently unconfident in his life. It’s a strange mixture. He’ll probably chicken out.

He hears clothes rustle and something softly land on the other bed. Hol Horse’s hat based off the sound.  N’Doul waits until warm lips press to his cheek and stubble scrapes along his skin. He can feel the other’s breath brush along his face.

It’s quick and sweet. N’Doul almost wants to swoon at how cute it is. Like a schoolboy carefully kissing his crush.

“What a gentleman.” He chuckles and the other huffs as he pulls away. “Are you always so polite?”

He flinches when his lips are met with Hol Horse’s.

Oh

Oh!

That was unexpected! He didn’t expect him to go through with an actual kiss after that sweet little peck on the cheek. He can’t stop the smile that forms and he can feel the tension in Hol Horse’s face as he furrows his brows in response. His lips are surprisingly soft if only a little dry and he seems intent on only massaging his lips against N’Doul’s. It’s not surprising. N’Doul would expect Hol Horse to scream if their tongues touched, which is funny, but he doesn’t want to have his ears to ringing from something so stupid. It is tempting though.

Hol Horse’s eyes are squeezed tight. Damn him and his pride. One stab at his character and now he’s kissing another man. At least he has nice lips and he smells good and isn’t as scary as a certain vampiric boss he knows of. He feelsthe other man sigh through his nose and can still feel him smiling. Honestly, he wants to just shut him up, maybe bite his lip as a little revenge, but Geb is a dangerous stand.

He pulls away from N’Doul, standing straight and clearing his throat.

“There. You happy now?” He’s trying to keep his cool, crossing his arms and tilting his head. His eyes bulge out his skull when N’Doul licks over his lips before humming. It’s a simple movement that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is.

“Are you?”

“I uh-“

Hol Horse’s breath catches in his throat. He’s already cracked open a door tonight, he doesn’t want to sit down and mull the question over inhis mind and blow the door wide open. He steps away and snatches his hat from the bed, quickly placing it on his head.

“You know, you’re really right.”

“Oh? Right about what?”

N’Doul perks and listens to Hol Horse’s footsteps as he makes a rush for the door all while blabbering before pausing in front of it.

“Mister Dio really is expecting us to do good work. I think I uh,”

He glances over to his partner, perched on theother bed in the hotel room, sitting criss-cross with a soft, knowing smile gracing his face. He doesn’t interrupt Hol Horse. Of course not, let the man dig himself into his own hole.

“I think I’ll get a head start on finding the Joestars. We’ll find them faster if we split up.”

N’Doul makes a face, brows raising slightly insuspicion. He knows Hol Horse is lying, looking for any excuse to leave the room as quickly as possible. Mercifully he doesn’t call him out on it, or maybe he doesn’t have time because Hol Horse quickly says what time he’ll back at thehotel before speeding out the door.

N’Doul considers sending Geb after him as hestands and gathers his cane in his hands. Well, at least this gives him time to work alone and not be pestered. He’ll find the Joestar group either way.

He makes his way out of the hotel room, lockingthe door behind himself. He’ll avoid any bars, just to give Hol Horse somespace.

Apparently he has a lot to think about tonight.

[jay-and-dean]

Je ne te mérite pas (I don’t deserve you) Chapter 3.

DeanxReader

Serie MASTERLIST

Warnings : Smut, swearing, Fluff

Future warnings : Smut, Fluff, Angst, Violence. Many smutty times in the next parts, I don’t know how I will deal with it given the recent event on tumblr, I’ll let you know

Words : 4233

Chapter summary : He finally can’t resist her...

Serie Summary : Dean and her can’t be together.If you ask Dean, he would list so many reasons : Her age, first. Not like she was a kid anymore, but he remerbers picking her from highschool not so long ago. Then Jody, damn, the girl is like a daughter to her, what kind of friend would he be ? He’d talk about her boyfriend and how he’s the opposite of himself. Of course he would expose how poisonous he is, how dangerous it is to be around him. He’d say he want to keep her away from nightmares… And he would conclude with certainly that she just won’t ever love him, why would she ?

If you ask her, she just might whisper with a heartbreack in her voice : “I don’t deserve Dean Winchester”.What if they where wrong ?

Note : It is my first time writting in english, so, forgive the errors.

Your Pov

This son of a bitch made it real. He made your fantasies real. You were in love with him but it was a whimsical fantasist though, like you didn't even deserve to think of him in any other way than pure admiration.

And he let you kiss him...

He took you by the wrist and looked at you with desire, made you touch his lips...

And now it's fucking real.

Sasha is over you, buried inside you, kissing your neck and caressing your thighs, and you are thinking about Dean Winchester. What would it be like to have him kissing you neck like Sasha does ? What kind of lover can he be ? He's a man, a almost forty years old warrior man, you probably couldn't handle him anyway. You can't stop thinking about all the ladies he had sex with, the luckiest girls in the world, but so oblivious... having Dean Winchester but not even knowing what it means.

Sasha kisses you and only then you realize it's over, he is soft again, lying beside you and kissing your mouth almost eagerly. You break the kiss and smile at him, you stroke his hair and lay a kiss on his forehead then you get up and head straight for shower.

The water is warm and the bathroom is misty, you use Sasha's masculine shower gel and still, your stomach hurts because Dean is not here. You're going to find an excuse to come home sooner today, you need to be in the bunker, Sasha's apartment makes you claustrophobic, it's been three days and you just want to see Sam, and have Dean around.

It's strange to think of it, why would Dean want you close ?Seeing you half naked doesn't usually turn men on, all those scars... You always keep your clothes on when you sleep with someone, expect with Sasha, he knows you by heart and he doesn't ask questions anymore.

Maybe it's just because you are the girl that's there, available. The bunker is filled with men, and you happen to have boobs, that's it.

 Dean's Pov

I put the keys on the table, they're still a little bloody, I sight and rub my neck, fucking vampire. Then see Sam's phone light up : "I'll be home around 8. I'm bringing food."

Y/n wasn't supposed to come home this early, she said she'd drive by night when she left. Is there a problem with Sasha ? Did they have a fight ?No one would come back soon when they can see their loved one only once or twice a month. But I won't know anyway.

My chest narrows at the thought of seeing her, that kiss made it worse and now I'm a mess. I spent the weekend asking myself what she was doing with him, if he wanted her like I do, how she acted with him, why she kissed me... I'm just craving to kiss her again, to touch her body and, in a primal way, to take her like I owned her.

I shake my head and chase away these ideas, joining Sam in the kitchen.

 When I hear the door, my heart races. There she is, smiling at me again, hands fool of bags, her eyes bright, her jeans tight.

We eat all together, Sam, Cas, Jack, Y/n and I, and all falls into place naturally, like it's how it's supposed to be. She is asking Sam about the case she missed and apologizing to Cas that he can't really appreciate what she brought. I try not to stare at her, but she's just next to me, she doesn't smell like she usually do, she smells like a man, Sasha's been all over her and I hate it, I just want her to smell like herself again. Did he thought she smell like us when she came back to him ? What the fuck are you thinking Dean, she's not yours, people don't belong to other people, and you're not some kind of animal that sniffs girls.

Cas is gone with Jack, and when Sam gets up, saying he's heading to his room, he asks Y/n if she's coming with him. Before she can answer, I offer her a drink.

She stayed, not only for that drink but for the others, and the next time and the night after. Each time I ask her to stay with me, to come with me to do something, she does. I try hard to have her talk about herself, but most of the time, she just manages to make me confide in her.

 _____________

"I swear this girl was crazy !" she says, stretching her legs toward me on the couch, one feet resting on my thigh.

Y/n and I spend our evenings together when we’re not hunting, it’s become a routine, my favorite. Sometimes, she still joins Sammy to fall asleep with him, and he told me she confessed hating falling asleep alone, because those nights she has nightmare. Last night, she fell asleep on the couch and I carried her to bed, still fighting the urge to touch her more than needed.

She relaxed over the evenings and nights we spent talking, her body relaxed to, and she now lies here, next to me, legs on mine, her head on the armrest.

"I can't believe she still has all of her teeth" I joke, taking a sip of my beer.

"I try not to fight, last time I did, the guy went to hospital", she laughs a littler and frown. "I guess I have too much anger, or a too violent story like Claire told me, anyway..."

"Wow, when was it ?" I ask.

"Mh, I don't know, 11th grade maybe... I broke his jaw and he, he had penis surgery..."

I look at her in shock, my eyes wide.

"What the ! Y/n, remind me to never make you angry !Wow ! What did he do ?"

Her smile fades away and she almost seems still mad. She stretches out a little bit on the couch, getting closer to me in the process. Under her long sleeve-shirt, I can see she not wearing a bra, and I try not to look there.

"He said something wrong about the wrong people." She says and she shyly smiles at me.

Our fun and lightweight discussion is turning serious and I lay my hand on her calf, craving for contact, looking at her.

"What did he say ?" I ask.

She hesitates and looks at my hand instead of my face.

"It was when Sam and you where often at Jody's and, you picked me out of school sometimes. Haha, I loved it, seeing the Impala waiting for me..."

I remember this, she was always alone when she get out of the building, and she always rushed toward the car, like it was a relief.

"Well, there was this guy, Troy" she continues. "He was hitting on me, kindly at fist, like... he said I was pretty and all that crap. But I pushed him away each time, and when he became insistent I told him something like "not even if you where the last blabla". Troy was not used to rejection, and so he spread a rumor, that I was a slut or whatever."

I clench my fist and mutter "Son of a bitch".

"But I didn't really care, I already was the creep of high school anyway... I was planning on a spell to give him crabs or whatever" she laughs and bite her lips mischievously.

Then she starts touching her hands, playing with the silver ring she always wear and she opens and closes her mouth a few times. Then finally she starts to speak.

"But one day, you had picked me up the day before, and seeing your car wasn't here he said something like "Alone ? Maybe ex-convict-weirdo-uncle choose to screw your mother and not your slut ass today". And so I broke his jaw, and hurt his manhood pretty bad. I had to do community services after that..."

I can’t move, my own anger making my blood boil. I try to speak and the only thing that comes out of my mouth is :

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be” she says. And then she punches my arm. “Dean ? I shouldn’t have told you that…”

I ask her why and she just says she doesn’t know. Then she suddenly sits so her body is very close to mine, her leg still in my lap, the other under her. She looks at me closely and I want to take her in my arms and touch her everywhere. Fuck, this Troy was right about one thing.

“Maybe I am indeed like an ex-convict weirdo uncle” I say low.

She sights deeply and put her head on my shoulder. We’ve never been this close, it’s like we’re cuddling and I want her so bad it makes me feel guilty.

“There it is…” she says with sadness in her voice.

“What ?”

“Self-denigration.” She whispers. “You’re not a weirdo, Dean, you’re a hero.”

Silence falls on us, her hand on my lap next to her thigh, her head resting on my shoulder, mouth toward my neck. I want to push her away but it’s far beyond my strength ; instead of that, my hand comes on her waist by itself. She smells so good, she is so close, I could drift any second and it scares me to death.She sights and lifts her hand from my knee to my chest, resting it there, certainly feeling my heart beat like crazy.

“I could easily sleep here” she murmurs “You’re comfy”.

I’m burning, her sweatpants seem so thin, her hair so soft. My other hand comes to rest on her knee, but something clicks inside my brain, like it has gone off. My fingers starts to gently caress her knee and she lets a really quiet moan out.

Fuck everything.

I stroke her thigh and go up, reaching her ass like I always dreamt of. She starts to shiver and I restrain myself from getting further. I’m high, not even knowing what I’m doing, but trying hard to stay on Earth.

Then I feel it, her mouth open kissing my throat, her hand on my chest pressing harder, her breath is so hot and her lips are wet. And I lost it. My hand slips under the edge of her shirt and I close my eyes. Her leg readjusts so she’s straddling me a little more, but not entirely and she buries her face on my neck, I’m trying to hide my panting. I just need to make her moan, make her shiver, make her mine… So my hand comes on her thigh again and travels on her front, timidly caressing her pussy through her pants. She moans and licks my throat. My heart is going to explode, my underwear too.

“Y/n…” I exhale.

“Dean…”

My name. She said my name in an exhale of pleasure, I’m about to burst in flames.

And suddenly it all comes back.

Jody.

Sasha.

Her age.

The life. My life.

Danger.

Everything.

“Y/n, y/n… I’m sorry I can’t. This is wrong.” I say hating myself.

She lets go easily, like she agreed, she gets up and smiles at me, her face flushed. She looks at me, I wish I could get up, hide my arousal and be a man about it. But I’m like a child that’s been abandoned.

“It’s okay Dean. Just… Friends ?” she asks.

“Friends”.

 Your Pov

You can’t sleep. Your body is too shaken, your mind is going mad. You haven’t really slept in three days.

Three days.

Dean touched you there and you had a taste of his skin on your tongue. Everything is different. And it goes on and on in your head : flashes, ecstasy, excitement, fear, sadness, emptiness, hope, fear, flashes, butterflies, sadness…

Did you tease him ? Was it your fault ? Maybe he didn’t even want it to start. You talk to him about being calling a slut and then you act like one… But he touched you, he started it didn’t he ?Maybe he wanted you after all, he doesn’t have to know you love him. If he just wants sex, you are willing to give him anything he wants, even if that breaks your already shattered heart into smaller pieces.

Sasha called you yesterday and you talked for an hour. He knew something worried you, so you told him a little piece of the truth : “I saw him. I’m just sad.” You said. He didn’t understand why you were sad about it, “Was he with a girl ?” he asked… And you just told him everything was complicated in your mind, he tried to convince you to visit him but it wasn’t the right time.

Sam looked concerned too, seeing you forget to eat, and losing your keys, resting in bed all morning. But when he questioned you, you just didn’t answer, shrugging.

Dean was all natural, casual, and when you noticed he acted as usual, even with you, a part of the weight on your stomach disappeared.

 ________________

Then a complicated hunt made you clear your mind. The stubborn Winchesters fell into a trap and you saved their life, preventing an Ancient God to bleed them to death, Sammy had lost a few but the guy is tough.

After the hunt the three of you went to a bar to celebrate and of course Sam was too tired to stay, he had to recover. So Dean and you stayed together, and it was the first evening you spent together in a long time, telling your drunk stories to each other and drinking a lot.

 The morning after you wake up with a bad hangover, on Dean’s bed, him lying beside you. You look at him and think, with butterflies in your stomach, that this man you love is becoming a very close friend, and the hope of being that to him is more than you ever dreamt.

“Mh…” Dean groans, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it ?”

“Noon.”

“What ? Oh !” he stretches and sits, holding his head in his hand. “That last bottle was definitely too much… Nightmares ?” he asks turning to you.

“No… I slept like a baby. A passed out baby.”

As he says nothing, grabbing a bottle of water and realizing it’s empty, you continue.

“That’s why I often sleep with Sammy you know. It seems that sleeping beside a Winchester prevent me from nightmares. So thank you for protecting me from the monsters inside my head. ”

“Anytime.”

He smiles and kisses your forehead before getting up.

_________________ 

In ten days, you have slept one time with Sam after watching movies, seven times on crappy motel rooms, one night with Sasha, one night on one of the chair of the Forteress of Deanitude, and ten times with Dean, on a couch, on his bed or in yours.

Sometimes you just fall asleep drinking or talking or watching a movie, sometimes after a nightmare you join him and coil like a cat beside him over his blanket, sometimes, he carries you to bed and stays with you. And sometimes, he hears you scream in you sleep and joins you, slips under your cover and puts a shy hand on your shoulder telling you he’s here.

This is one of those nights.

Dean came to your bed and told you you were safe, he did exactly like he always does, except he was a little closer. It is the best thing in the world, having Dean beside you all night, but you are craving for him.

Why not ? You cuddle with Sam, you could get a little comfy with Dean. And having his arms around you like it happens some mornings is the closest thing to heaven. So you let yourself get even a bit closer to him, and he immediately respond, taking you in his strong arms from behind.

Having him so close is the best filling in the world, you feel like in one of those rare dreams, the ones which are better than reality, that feel like heaven. His smell makes you dizzy and you are aware of every inch of your body that's in contact with his. His foot brushes your heel and his knee is nestled against your leg, his waist doesn't touch you but you can feel his belly when he breathes deeply, his massive arm rests on your stomach and you know he feels how trembling you are. His head is just next to yours, face toward your hair ; how can not kissing someone be painful ?

You know he can feel it, this electricity, your body shaking and his burning, sweat breaking through his delicious skin. Maybe it is the reason why Dean have had so many conquests, his body made for love, reacting like a volcano when he touches a woman's body, making hers melt. Or maybe it is your love for him that’s consuming you.

He feels it, because his finger gently brushes the skin that your t-shirt doesn't cover, and your breathing begins to tremble intensely. And when you turn your upper body slightly to face him more, his starts to shake too. It's dark, but you can see his eyes staring at yours, and his mouth slightly open, so close. His finger is joined by another on your burning skin and finally all his hand rests on your stomach.

He closes his eyes for a second and his hand comes up, very slowly, until he is touching your breast. You stop breathing, your heart beating his hand like it was try to join it out there. His head gets close to yours and his lips brush your neck, his body is getting close and you can now feel his chest rising with force against your shoulder and arm. The big strong hand that was on your breast starts to explore to other one and find a way under your shirt.

"Stop me..." he whispers like he was out of breath.

"Y/n, tell me to stop".

His voice desperate against your throat is the hottest thing you ever heard and felt, so you let out a quiet moan and reach out to touch him, your hand falling on his waist. He groans and sticks his entire body against yours. That's when you feel how hard he is, and that sends an electric shock to your panties. You think you’re going to faint… or die.

He starts kissing your throat and biting it gently, and his mouth finds its way to your jaw, he turns you over so you’re fully on your back and he puts his body a bit more above yours. You’re a mess, panting and shaking and you think you could come like that, Dean Winchester devouring your skin.

You turn your head, desperately avid for his mouth, crushing your lips to his, and he kisses you.

He kisses you like he was feasting on your throat a minute ago : fiercely and deliciously. His tongue caressing yours is the permission you needed, and you wrap one arm around his neck, like you’ve always dreamed of, and let the other linger on his back, feeling his muscles tighten and relax under your fingers. He’s so manly yet tender, and you have a single thought for Sasha : This, this is not the same, Dean is not the same.

When he’s completely above you, gently rubbing his boxers against your thigh, you realize what’s going on, and you start to panic.

There is no fucking way you are making Dean Winchester feel those things. You know now you are going to have him inside you… fuck this was not supposed to happen, it’s like you’re blessed. It’s so overwhelming you could cry, he is everything, always have been and he gives himself to you, how are you supposed to survive when it’s over ?

He must be feeling your anxiety because he breaks the kiss.

“I can stop.” He says panting. “I should.”

“No…” you whine and you try to pull his underwear down.

He groans low and starts devouring your neck again, his crotch moving along with his tongue. Then things speed up : He’s touching you everywhere and kissing you, biting you, and in an instant your pajama pants are gone, along with you panties, you didn’t even realize he moved, you’re high on him. You’re pulling his boxers down when he stops moving, resting his forehead against yours.

“I shouldn’t… This is…” he starts to murmur, completely out of breath, but you kiss him and wrap your legs around him.

“Dean…” you didn’t recognize your own voice, it’s low, desperate and obscene, and in the same time it sounds like a prayer.

He sighs, mumbling Oh fuck to himself and one of his hand comes to your thigh. You finally feel him right where you didn’t even allow yourself to dream you would. His tip against you, his mouth on yours.

And he enters you, fills you completely, slowly but firmly.

Everything is blurry and perfectly clear. In the same second you can feel the intensifying smell of his sweat, your body stretching to welcome him, his stomach shaking, the air he’s breathing out in your mouth, every inch of him inside you, your heart screaming for him, his arms around you, elbows on each side of your head, how big and strong he is, how tall, the heaviness of his charisma you’ve always loved so much, his powerful lower back holding himself back... Everything. But you can’t clearly tell where you end and where he starts for a second.

You didn’t realize your eyes were closed, until you open them and drown in his. You kiss him like you always dreamed you would, without any reserve, finally giving in, letting the control blow up.

Kissing you back he starts to move, thrust, moan and you can’t concentrate on his lips anymore, letting your head fall onto the pillow, mouth agape, breathing his smell like it was the more powerful drug in the world. You try to focus, you want everything, not just the intense pleasure he’s giving you, you want to feel him and see him. So you open your eyes again and he’s still watching you, sweaty and serious, his face so beautiful it makes you shy again for a second, like he was between pain and ecstasy. You want to talk to him, tell him how beautiful he is and how good this is, how no man ever had that effect on you, how letting go was such a big deal for you, you would also tell him to let go, that he’s not hurting you, that this is okay, that you want all of him… But you can’t trust your mouth now, because between moans and panting, all it would let pass your lips would be I love you. And this is never going to be said. Ever.

He doesn’t say anything either. It's silent and you're in the dark, he's so tall and strong, you love him so much that he eclipse everything anyway. Just him over you, over the world.

You hang onto him, and let the pleasure devour you, you can't breathe properly because your body doesn't know how to react to so many sensations and feelings.

Then it hits you without warning. An orgasm so strong everything shuts down for a minute, you open your mouth wide, like you were screaming but no sound comes out. Dean kisses your lips and bites your throat, he groans with restraint and you feel his body shake ; you try to look at him, but everything is blurry, and he hides his beautiful face on your neck anyway.

You're suddenly cold, and burning at the same time, he is still buried deep inside you but he stops moving. Your pussy and your legs both keeping him there, he's out of breath and his body weights a little more on you.

Finally he withdraws and lets himself fall beside you, still lying on his stomach, a hand across your chest. He looks at you.

His beloved face, all sweaty, looking at you so closely. You wish you could die like that. And you look at him, letting a bit of your infinite love show, wishing the dark hides it for you.

"We didn't use a..."

"I'm on pill" you cut him on the same volume, barely a whisper.

He is silent. You thought he would have left already but he stays there watching you watching him.

"Y/n..."

"I know, Dean" you say calmly, it's not like you have thought he would want anything more. You're ready for it, you had more than you could dream of, now it's over. You just don't want him to make it awkward.

"It's just" he starts "I shouldn't ha..."

"Dean" you stroke is cheek gently and kiss his lips one last time. "It was great, but it's over. I have a boyfriend and we are friends."

He nods and sights.

 The night is going to be long, because there is no way you are going to sleep, you are going to make it last every damn second you can.

[bingbong21]

The Things We Fear

Summary: It's not just alien invaders that a person can be afraid of. It can also be the what-if's, the what could have beens, and everything in between.(Alternatively: Keith and James become friends with benefits in an effort to cope)

A/N: I 100% blame Keithy on the Sheithans server. This can be found on ao3 here and FFN here. 

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

Everyone had been hurting after the failure of the Kerberos mission, but all their grief paled in comparison to Keith’s. James understood why of course; Officer Shirogane had gotten him into the Garrison, saved him from a life of jumping from one prison sentence to the next. But now that he was dead, that whole plan seemed to be in jeopardy. So like the kind, caring man that felt a sense of duty to finish what Shirogane had started and who wished the best for his fellow classmates (which had nothing to do with wanting to be top of the class fair and square), James set out to offer Keith his condolences and a shoulder to cry on. And of course like the paranoid, socially stunted bullheaded asshole he was, Keith took it as an invitation to fight.

It hadn’t been pretty. There was no elegance to their fight, just a raw brutal animalistic force that only two teenage boys on the cusp of manhood could wrought. It ended exactly like their first fight at the Garrison had, with James on his back and Keith above him with raised fists. Then Keith’s shouts turned to sobs, his punches into desperate grabs at clothing, and next thing he knew he was staring up at his ceiling naked with a passed out, equally as naked Keith next to him.

When he woke up the next morning, Keith was gone. Gone from his bed, from the Garrison, and probably from his life forever. James didn’t let the bruised pride or the smarting marks on his body interfere with his career, and soon he was top of the class with Keith as nothing more than a distance memory. He had effectively forgotten about the guy, focused on preparing for whatever would come his way.

Five years later and life decided to give him a roundhouse kick reminder that no one was allowed to forget the name Keith Kogane.

James leaned against the windowsill, staring out at the vast expanse of desert before him. He was in one of the corridors of the Garrison hospital, sitting on one of the cushioned ledges they provided. He was there because…because…honestly he had no fucking clue why he was there. Him and his squad had been cleared pretty quickly after the final battle, diagnosis nothing more than some bruises and scrapes with a prescription of rest and celebration with the rest of the universe. The Paladins of Voltron were either sleeping off four years of an intergalactic war or catching up with the people they left behind and the friends they made along the way. There was no reason for James to be here yet there he sat, looking out to the desert as if it provided answers.

The squeaking of the wheels of an IV drip pulled him from his musings. He looked over and had to fight the urge to rub his eyes. There, walking as if he hadn’t just woken up from an explosion-induced coma was the head of Voltron himself, Keith Kogane. He looked so much younger in the hospital uniform, the bandages wrapped around his head giving him a sense of vulnerability. Just like when they were younger Keith paid him no mind, sitting on the same ledge as him and staring out the window. Either he was still unaware of what an awkward silence was, or he also didn’t know how to approach the sudden tension.

“Didn’t you just wake up from a coma,” James asked; subtlety was never his strong suit when it came to Keith. “What the hell are you doing walking around?”

Keith glanced at him from the corner of his eye before looking back out the window. “Felt weird, sitting there doing nothing. Feel like I should be planning another battle strategy or be in some diplomatic meeting.”

Makes sense; even when they were young Keith felt the need to be occupied by something, otherwise he was prone to getting into trouble. “Don’t you have some aliens to catch up with though?”

Keith shrugged, “Mom and Kolivan are out doing stuff for the Blades, Shiro’s busy being the voice of a new world order, and the wolf is probably either getting spoiled rotten by Lance’s family or playing with Bae-Bae. Don’t exactly have many options left to keep me company.”

“I could keep you company.” The words are out of James’s mouth before he even thinks to process them. Keith fully turns to look at him, an eyebrow raised in question; James holds his hands up defensively. “What? I’m not a complete and utter asshole you know!”

“We fought literally every time we were in the same room as each other.”

“Not every time,” James shoots back; something about Keith makes him want to argue, even if it makes him look like a dumbass. Those thick caterpillars Keith calls eyebrows furrow together before shooting into his hairline. James feels a smug sense of satisfaction at the light blush that blooms across Keith’s cheeks. He takes it as an invitation to scoot closer to Keith, hand resting dangerously close to his.

“Everybody else is celebrating or rebuilding right now,” he murmurs, “a party of one sounds pretty lonely, don’t you think?”

“Since when have you cared about me being lonely,” Keith responds; it’s quieter, not at all reminiscent of the confident leader he saw in battle. James shrugged, fingers walking between the spaces left by Keith’s.

“Since we saved Earth from a bunch of murderous space furries,” he quips, cocky grin on his face. He settles his hand right on top of Keith’s; for such a fiery guy, he really did have cold hands. “So what do you say?”

Keith’s eyes drop to their hands before slowly making their way back to James’s face. He gives a short nod, jerking his head back towards where he came. Soon the two of them are walking back to Keith’s room, with James thinking back to that night before Keith left. All thoughts cease when the door opens and he’s pulled inside, a mouth slanted over his and the door closing behind them.

When James had left his room after pulling the thin hospital sheets up to Keith’s chin, that should have been the end of it. Just a celebratory knocking of boots together for having not died and saving the universe from tyranny.

Except it kept happening.

Whenever one of those things fell from the sky, James would find himself being shoved into a broom closet or bathroom stall. When they actually managed to catch a break for longer than two days James was either being dragged to Keith’s room or pushed back onto his mattress. Not to say that James was some pushover whore for Keith to use at his fancy; James instigated a bunch of their liaisons himself of course. It’s just…Keith’s need to fuck was a lot higher than his. Like a lot higher. To the point that James wondered if it was a Galra thing to always be in a constant state of fighting or fucking. If so, no wonder those fuckers took over the entire universe.

Apparently others took notice of Keith’s stamina.

“So are you and Kogane just fucking or what?”

James spluttered, water going all over the table. Kinkade, Leifsdottir, and Rizavi all moved their trays accordingly in scarily perfect synch. James glared at Rizavi while coughing, who had the gall to just sit there and innocently poke at her salad. He took the napkin offered by Kinkade, wiping at his mouth.

“What are you talking about?”

“After every mission you and Kogane disappear for approximately ten to fifteen minutes,” Leifsdottir stated as if it were just another piece of data, “afterwards you both appear slightly disheveled with marks that are generally associated with sex. You and Kogane also have a tendency to disappear together for large swaths of time whenever there is nothing else to do, only to come out looking the same.”

“So cut the crap and give us the deets.” Rizavi jabbed her forkful of salad at James’s face. “Y’all fucking or what?”

James heaves a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you must know, yes, we are fucking. It’s a friends with benefits sort of deal; he scratches my back, I scratch his. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Rizavi hums, leaning forward on the table, chin resting in her hands. “And how’s that going for your big fat crush on him?”

James jerked away from the table, face erupting in flames. “I…How…I do not have a big fat crush on him!”

“Seventy-five to eighty percent of your complaints about him in flight school were about things that, upon further analysis, could be considered you actually talking about how attractive he is,” again Leifsdottir chimes in, as if she were just talking about the weather instead of one of her friends’ sex life. James shot her a glare, the blush still visible high on his cheeks.

“Yeah well, the numbers mean nothing. I don’t have a crush on Kogane, and this arrangement here isn’t making me have feelings.” He grabbed his tray, pushing away from the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m gonna finish lunch in the hangar.”

He ignored whatever snarky comment came from Rizavi’s mouth as he left the mess hall, thoughts bouncing wildly around his head. There was no way in hell he had a crush on Keith Kogane. Sure he respected the guy for his battle tactics, courage, and flight skills, but so did Commander Iverson and everyone else in the base. Did that mean they all had crushes on Keith? Of course not; it meant they were people with eyes and enough brain cells to rub together to have a decent thought. And fine, maybe he thought he was pretty easy on the eyes, but again that meant nothing. He’d seen Rizavi cycle through so many freak-outs about pretty girls without meaning to seriously pursue them that it barely even phased him.

Everything relaxed as he entered the upper decks of the MFE hangar. Something about being there, close to his ship and the opportunity of freedom just instantly calmed him. He looked around, hoping that he could claim a seat to look over his personal plane, when his eyes caught another Garrison cadet uniform perched on the walkway. More specifically, Keith in a Garrison cadet uniform with that kickass wolf perched on the walkway. Perched on the walkway right above where his beloved MFE sat charging.

Motherfucker.

“Thinking of stealing my ship are you?”

The dull thud that rang out in the hangar as Keith’s skull made contact with the rails above it had James wincing in sympathy. He walked over with his tray, afraid Keith might lash out in some sort of retribution. Keith merely clutched his head, groaning in pain before cracking an eye open.

“Why the fuck do people always think I’m trying to steal their shit,” he grumbled, arms slowly falling back to his sides. One hand came to rest on Kosmo’s head; the wolf pushed his snout into his hand. James shrugged, taking a seat next to him.

“You did steal Captain Shirogane’s care before we got here.”

“That was one time!”

“There was also the time you stole someone’s pens cuz they pissed you off. Oh, and the ti-” James was cut off as Keith slapped a hand over his mouth. He looked over at him, trying to avoid all connotations of intense eyes and hand over mouth with sex.

“Keep it up and I actually will,” Keith threatens before removing his hand. He wipes it off on his pants before crossing his arms on the railing, resting his head on them. James took a moment to study his profile before turning back to his food. Kosmo comes towards him, eyes asking for food and pets; it takes everything in him not to give in.

“What’re you doing in here anyway? Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your crew or something?”

“They were getting a little too rowdy for my tastes,” Keith responds, still staring straight ahead. He places a hand on Kosmo’s back, letting it rest. “It’s great to hang out with them, but when you spend two years on the back of a space whale with just your mom and a wolf, it takes a while to get used to it again.”

“Space whale?”

The corner of Keith’s lips twitch upwards, as if remembering fond memories. “It’s a long story.”

He turns to look at him, eyeing his tray empty of everything save a few scraps of meat James left for Kosmo. “What about you? What brings you here instead of being with your squad?”

James set his tray aside, watching as Kosmo descends on it like a vulture. He makes it a point to mimic Keith’s previous posture, resting against the railings. He shrugs, staring down at his jet. “Same as you. Rizavi made one too many snarky jabs.”

Keith hums, “So you can dish it but not take it huh?”

James’s shoulders tense; he’s not about to let some punk ass fuck buddy diss him in his happy place. He whips around to face Keith, only for his retort to die on his lips. Keith is laughing, a smile on his lips and good God he should not look as cute as he does. The Keith he remembers and the Keith he’s been fucking don’t smile or laugh like that. They’ve always been stony faced little bitches, only giving barest hint of emotion in the throes of passion.

“Relax Griffin, I was just kidding.” Keith’s snickers died down, face relaxing into something of…concern? James couldn’t tell, he was still trying to wrap his head around him laughing. “Rizavi really must’ve pissed you off huh?”

James wrenches his eyes away from Keith; anything to not confront the sudden emotions. “Yeah…guess it hit a little too close to home.”

More like a nail getting smacked down by a hammer, but Keith didn’t need to know that. A warm hand placed solidly on his thigh has him jumping form his thoughts. He looks over at Keith, eyes wide and faint blush on his cheeks. Keith’s jaw worked, eyebrows furrowed together as if he were chewing on a questionable piece of meat. James was about to ask what was up before he finally spoke.

“You ever fuck in the back of an MFE before?” James shook his head, too stunned by the sudden turn of events to do much else. Keith grinned, devilish and shit stirring and oh James was so fucked.

“Neither have I. Let’s fix that.”

It was cramped, hot, and humid inside his MFE, and so many different rules were being broken right now but honestly? James could give approximately zero shits at the moment. Not when he was leaning back in the passenger seat, Keith kneeling between his legs and sucking his cock just the way he liked. James moans, fingers combing through Keith’s thick hair. How the fuck did he get so good at this? Was that a thing for the Paladins of Voltron, just going around sucking alien cock? Or maybe he was practicing on one of his other Paladins; maybe he was practicing on Shirogane.

James growls low in his throat, grip tightening in Keith’s hair. Those two were awfully chummy before Kerberos, and now that Shirogane looked like some sort of Greek god? No wonder Keith’s asshole was always so ready to go; he’d been taking Shirogane’s monster cock on the regular for years now.

He yelped as a sharp pain shot up his thigh. James glared down at Keith who was currently sucking and licking a dark mark into the meat of his thigh. “The hell you do that for?”

“You spaced out,” came Keith’s smooth reply. He crawled up James’s body, settling himself in the other man’s lap. “I’m not doing this cuz I like the smell of sweaty balls you know.”

James pointedly looked out the window of the fight yet, trying to ignore the way Keith idly played with the ends of his hair. He could hear the frown in Keith’s voice when he spoke again. “What the hell has got you so worked up today?”

“Nothing!” James yelped again as Keith leaned in and bit into his neck. “Would you stop that! It’s not my fucking kink!”

“Not what you were saying a couple days ago,” Keith mumbles against his skin. He grasps James’s chin, yanking him to look him directly in the eyes. “Now tell me.”

James sucks in a breath, trying to resist the hypnotic lure of those beautiful eyes. “You and Shirogane ever fuck?”

Keith stares at James for a minute before his face scrunches up. James had seen the face before, when that orange-haired alien dude had cooked something up for the Paladins to try using Earth ingredients. “What? No! Why the fuck would I ever fuck Shiro?”

“Are you blind? Shirogane is hot! Plus…” James averts his eyes. He’s not sure why this part embarrasses him, but it does. “You guys have always had that really close weird bond thing going on.”

“Oh my God…” Keith mumbles, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He sighs, “You ever see that really old show Scrubs? Takes place in a hospital with a bunch of interns or some shit?”

James nods; it was Rizavi and Kinkade’s favorite old timey television show. Keith continues, “You know that one pair of friends on the show? Scrawny white guy and black surgeon dude? TJ and Thurk?”

“JD and Turk.” The correction slips out before James can stop himself; Keith rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, JD and Turk. That’s the kind of relationship we have. Definitely, hundred percent gay, we love each other to the ends of the universe and would do whatever it takes to save each other. But we’re not in love with each other, alright? He’s coping with Adam being dead and all that happened to him, and I’m…”

Keith goes silent, finally averting his eyes from James’s face. His jaw and face do that thing from earlier again. James cocks his head to the side, puzzled. “You’re…?”

“…Dealing with everything else, I guess,” he finally responds quietly. His shoulders are slumped forward; again James is struck just by how vulnerable and small Keith can look when he’s not leading them in battle. The thought is gone when Keith resettles in his lap, lining their bare cocks up together in his hand. His eyes are a smoky haze of lust and want; James is starting to wonder if that’s just a cover.

“Come on, we gonna finish or what,” Keith asks, lazily thrusting against James. James shudders at the feeling, prick perking back up in interest.

“Dunno, the moment is kinda gone,” James manages to mumble. Keith merely smirks, the fire of being issued a challenge lighting up in his eyes.

“Then let’s bring it back.”

More time had passed; the giant robots attacking them had slowed down to a trickle thankfully. Now it was just making alliances and a bunch of other bureaucratic niceties. Which was a pleasant change from the usual “Save the Earth or probably die trying” shtick they’d been doing, except that it kept the Paladins busy. Meaning that it kept Keith busy. Busy, and not needing a good lay to keep his head on straight. Which unfortunately for James meant he had plenty of time to ponder what his life had become and try to find meaningless mundane tasks to fill the time.

(“Why are you so obsessed with Scrubs recently? Is this a Keith thing?”

“It is not a Keith thing.”

“Oh my God it’s a Keith thing.”)

Right now he was engaged in his current least favorite way to pass the time; staring up at the ceiling of his room unable to sleep after curfew had been called. After so many years of being on edge, having to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, James had trouble relaxing when the days had been so…mundane. No secret rendezvous with Keith to tire him out, no life or death situations to deplete his mental energy, just nothing but peace.

He hated it.

James groaned, rolling onto the side facing his bedroom, eyes shut tight. No, hate was too strong of a word. He just…had adapted too quickly to wartime life and was now having trouble adapting back. He’d seen the others have the same struggles; they’d walk around aimlessly, looking for something to do but finding nothing. Funny how they were chosen for their skills at adapting to new situations but sucked complete ass at reverting back.

A warm moist puff of air hit James’s face; he scrunched his nose at the smell. Why the hell did his room suddenly smell like dog breath? He cracked an eye open only to come face to snout with Kosmo.

“Jesus.” He scrambled upright, heart racing. Why the absolute fuck was Kosmo in his room? Sure he’d gotten into the habit of giving the wolf a treat every time he saw him, but that didn’t seem special enough to have him break into his room in the middle of the night. Kosmo merely tilted his head, watching James with an otherworldly sense of intelligence. James sighed, reaching forward to ruffle his fur.

“I dunno what you want, but you should go ba-” A sudden pulling sensation deep in his gut, and soon James found himself sitting in a corner of the Garrison gym in his boxers and undershirt. He whipped his head back and forth, trying to grapple with the realization that he was here and not in his bed. He glared at Kosmo, who was quietly curled up in front of him looking innocent of any crimes.

“Hey, what was that for?!”

“James?”

His spine stiffened; he recognized that voice all too well. He turned towards the source of the voice, eyes the size of dinner plates. He watched as Keith walked over, hair pulled back in a low ponytail, sweat running down his face and soaking the sleeveless undershirt he wore. He noticed how his hands were taped, but more importantly he noticed how low his pants rode on his hips.

“The hell are you doing in here?”

Keith’s voice had him snapping to attention. He gestured wildly at Kosmo. “I…y-your stupid dog came into my room and brought me here!”

Keith narrowed his eyes at Kosmo; Kosmo gave an uninterested yawn. “I thought I told you not to wake people up?”

“Actually I was already awake,” James offered; even after being kidnapped by a wolf he felt the need to make sure Keith knew it followed the rules. Keith blinked, apparently taken aback by the statement, before looking to Kosmo again. Kosmo stood up to stretch before walking forward to Keith. He bumped his head against Keith’s hand, clearly looking for affection.

“I’m not petting you just because you know what a loophole is,” Keith chided; Kosmo’s ears lowered, a whine coming from him. “Don’t give me that look! You know exactly what I meant when I said that. Now take him back to his room.”

James swears up and down that Kosmo gets the same defiant look in his eyes that Keith gets before promptly turning away from him. With head and tail held high he walks over to James, plops himself in his lap, and immediately does not do what Keith asked of him. James and Keith both stare at Kosmo in confusion; Keith growls.

“No, that’s not-Stop petting him, you’re reinforcing bad behavior!”

James pulled his hand away from the soft fur, looking up sheepishly at Keith. He honestly hadn’t even realized he was doing it until Keith called him out. “Sorry…”

Keith groans, walking over to sit beside him. He slides down the wall, shirt riding up as he sits, legs spread out in front of him. This close James can smell the pungent scent of sweat and body odor, dizzy from its force. Keith leans his head back against the wall, eyes slipping closed. The gym fills with silence; James begins petting Kosmo again.

“Why are you in here anyway?” The question claws its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to hold it back. “Curfew’s been in effect for a couple hours now.”

“Couldn’t go back to sleep,” is the blunt response Keith gives. James looks over at him, observing the way he tenses at the question. How his body seemed poised to strike at a moment’s notice. It was so eerily similar to how he was as a child that James finds himself giving into his old habits of prodding when he shouldn’t.

“Why?”

Keith’s jaw tenses, hands clenching and unclenching into fists. James can tell he’s at war with himself, fighting a battle to tell a lie or a truth. It’s odd, watching Keith actually think before he moves. James had only ever known him to act rashly without a thought for the consequences. It was what made him a thorn in everyone’s side, yet at the same time made him such an incredible pilot. As the silence and battle stretched on, James pressed further.

“Keith…”

“Because of the nightmares,” Keith finally shouts; James jumps, startling Kosmo. Keith runs his fingers through his hair, eyes trained on the ground as he continued to speak.

“Because when I close my eyes I see my team dying, I see Shiro dying, or that stupid fight in that God forsaken factory, or my mom dying just within reach or,” Keith heaves a breath, fingers gripping the material of his pants, “or an entire planet being blown up because the Galra have just gotten that powerful now.”

“These alliance meetings…I know they’re important, know that they can change history, but they just…they make it impossible to exhaust myself so I can just black-out in bed.”

Realization dawns on James; he grips Kosmo’s fur harder than necessary. “That’s why we’re sleeping together, isn’t it?”

Keith nods, head still bowed as if in shame. James frowns as he processes the information, smoothing the ruffle he made in Kosmo’s fur. He’s not sure why this surprises him; maybe it’s because Keith has never failed to give off an air of confident nonchalance. Maybe it’s because he never suspected Keith of all people to use sex as a coping mechanism. Maybe it’s because he never thought Keith would involve him in any of his recovery steps. Either way he’s here and a choice needs to be made.

James turns towards Keith, reaching out with the hand not buried in Kosmo’s fur. He tilts Keith’s head up before slanting his mouth against his. He feels the way Keith freezes beneath his touch, lips chapped and slightly parted. Knows the exact moment Keith melts, moving his mouth in an all too familiar dance, allowing him to slip his tongue in. Shudders at the intimate feel of them meeting in the middle, twining around each other in greeting, combined with a tingling sensation in his stomach. Surprised when a sudden force has him pushing Keith down into…a mattress?

James pulls back, panting as he takes in their surroundings. They were back in his room, Kosmo nowhere in sight. He must have teleported them back before going back to Keith’s room.  He looks back to Keith, taking in the sight of cheeks flushed with something other than physical exertion, black hair spread out in a halo around his face. He traces his thumb reverently over the scar he came back with before daring to speak.

“You take care of the universe,” he murmurs; he settles more on top of Keith, straddling his hips. “Now, let me take care of you.”

A barely perceptible nod from Keith has James leaning back down to reconnect their mouths. He slips a hand under Keith’s shirt as their tongues pick up where they had left off. His skin is still tacky with sweat from the workout he did; James feels a desperate need to run his tongue over those hardened muscles. He pushes Keith’s shirt up higher, breaking the kiss only to remove it. He quickly yanks his own off, tossing them both to some part of the room before focusing back on Keith.

In the wake of Keith’s admission, the scars that mar his body tell a new tale to James. They tell the story of a man who’d give everything and anything to save the universe from tyranny. They speak testaments to his utter selflessness, how he puts lives above his own and asks for nothing in return. Before James had simply thought they were attractive, marks of his prowess as a warrior and ability to survive. Now though, he thinks as he traces the scar on his cheek and shoulder with his eyes, now he just hopes that someone had been there to soothe the hurts he suffered.

He presses a gentle kiss to the scar before peppering kisses down his neck. It’s different from the other times, no harsh bites or crudely given hickies. Tonight isn’t about staking claims or taking frustrations out on each other’s bodies. Tonight it’s about simply being there, taking care of the wounds they can’t see. Again James is reminded of that night they shared so long ago; he realizes then that he hadn’t treated Keith like he should have, like he had wanted to. He presses a kiss to the scar on his right shoulder, so dangerously close to his pulse point.

“I’m sorry.” The apology is almost lost in the harsh panting Keith provides. James feels fingers carding through his hair, blunt nails gently scraping his scalp.

“…For what,” comes the hoarse reply. James looks up, eyes locking onto Keith’s. He shrugs, hand idly moving to stroke at his abdomen; Keith’s muscles contract.

“For not treating you right,” he finally managed, moving to kiss a more recent scar further down. He continues moving, pressing kisses along every trace of injury, old and new, speaking between the kisses. The hand in his hair tightens as he moves ever close to Keith’s cock.

“That night, after the pilot error…I should’ve been kinder to you. I shouldn’t have said all the things I said to you, before or during. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but you deserve to know.”

The silence in the room is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. James wonders if Keith will shove him off now and tell him never touch him again. He’s surprised when he hears a isgh, and the hand in his hair pets him instead.

“I…” The hand stutters, before resuming its pace, “I’m sorry too. I know I wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and…I shouldn’t have left you that night. At least, not like that.”

James dares to look up; Keith is looking off to the side, finding the corner of his bed absolutely fascinating. He sees that vulnerable side Keith so rarely shows, and knows that he should tread carefully here. Still, seventeen-year-old James wants answers, wants to know why he was abandoned when all he tried to do was be kind.

“So why did you,” he asks as softly as he can manage, moving back up his body. Keith shrugs, still not making eye contact.

“I dunno, I was…scared? I didn’t know what would happen after, and I already was going to leave, so I just…did.”

James cups his face again. “You scared now?”

“Absolutely terrified.” Keith’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, leaning into the touch. “But…I don’t want to stop.”

James huffs, reaching over to grab the lube and condoms he keeps on his night stand. “That makes two of us then,” He uncaps the lube; Keith begins to shimmy out of his pants and boxers at the sound, “So at least…we can be scared together.”

He pulls his own boxers down, exposing his hard cock nestled in brown curly pubic hair to the air. He rolls the condom down, wanting to be prepared as soon as Keith is slicked and stretched. He takes his time loosening Keith, using one finger at first before gradually moving to two, then three. He never paid much attention to the sounds Keith made before and he curses himself profusely. The moans, the high pitched mewls he makes when James manages to strike his prostate, the expressions he makes on his face as he basks in pleasure…it’s enough to have him grasping the base of his dick to keep from cumming too soon. The rest is a blur; he’s only back to full awareness when he’s pushing inside Keith.

The feeling of that familiar wet heat gripping him tightly, coupled with the flood of newly discovered feelings has James feeling like it’s his first time all over again. Perhaps in a way it is; perhaps this was life giving them a second chance at something incredible. He reaches up, fingers lacing with Keith’s as he sets a slow pace, moans mingling beautifully with the punched out cries from Keith. With every thrust inside him James feels the balance of their relationship shift, changing from something to casual to something deeper than either of them ever dared to dream of. It brings a pleasure far greater than any physical action has ever wrought. He reaches down, taking Keith’s cock in his hand and stroking it, coaxing a gasp and moan from the man beneath him.

“James,” Keith pants; his hands grip tighter to his shoulders, legs moving to wrap around his hips to pull him in deeper. “I can’t…I’m gonna-ah!”

James slants his mouth over Keith’s milking him slowly through his orgasm. He feels his own drawing ever closer, abdomen drawing tight. His pace speeds up ever so slightly and, with a shout of Keith’s name, he spills inside the condom. Panting he rests, pulling away from Keith’s mouth; he chuckles as he sees that just like before Keith has already passed out in his bed, chest rising and falling steadily. He slowly pulls out and makes quick work of cleaning the both of them up. He pulls the covers up, and allows himself to fall asleep to the sight of Keith in his bed.

In the morning James presses himself against Keith’s back with a kiss to his shoulder, intertwining their fingers together, and feels like old wounds can finally begin to heal.

[fernthewriter]

SFAM

some facts about myself I'm 21 years old I'm both left and right-handed I don’t have a middle name I don't eat goats cheese I'm a terrible driver and have this insatiable hunger for bad jokes and and good pizza I believe there are only two kinds of people in the world those who admit they've peed in the shower and Liars I'm not religious my faith in God vanished when My grandma died But I was introduced to poetry and my dreams and now I can't help but think that maybe heaven is not something we need to die to get to I go to a a community College which means I’m probably poor because I’m not attending a university and society sees you as an average dude when in reality you probably got more brains then the rich folks who live in the hills

My father is the only man I know who never skips a homemade meal and is loyal to his dishwashing duties He’s married to the most amazing woman I know which happens to be my mother a woman who would cook my lunch every day

You see my mother always reminds me that my name is an earthquake waiting she says i hold in your mouth like the most dangerous secret this world is yet to know I'm only 5 foot 7 on a good day but I’ve learned being built like a short story is a lesson in finding other ways to be the tallest tale in the room

I don't know what it means to be a man and for a while I thought the weight room could tell me but I've heard stories of men with shotgun barrels for arms who used their bodies as weapons I've seen them shoot poles and women's spirits and my sister says that they raised me to be a good guy But I have a set of knuckles still swollen with the memory of other boys teeth and blood and I'm still learning to unlearn violence I'm reminded everyday that a righteous heart inside a male body is just a gun with a safety left on boys who are still trying to find their manhood in bottles. bank accounts and between nameless hips boys who remote control their partners because they're not strong enough to let go know Us men carry an addiction to property in our blood that when i was a kid i shoplifted things that didn't actually need or want just to feel like there was something in this world that I could own I know the most beautiful thing about love is that it cannot be owned I don't watch much TV these days but i'm still a nickelodeon kid at heart so if you asked me who loves orange soda I will tell you

I've broken More of my own bones then promises in my life I'm still not sure which one has been more difficult to heal I have heart the same size as a fist and I didn't find self-love until I gave myself a beating but I was the tree that fell in a forest when no one was there to hear and dared to make a sound

I'm the meal that this thing called depression has spent seven years trying to eat from the inside out I'm living proof that a fool bit off more than he could chew I believe there is nothing more than a story than a scar so every time I see the remains I've carved into my skin I read the story of a battle I win every day I used to wake up breathless when anxiety was deadly and now I'm so sick I've got Depression scared to catch me I am both brown and boy which means that I’m the knife that threatens to slip the neck of silence and make everything bleed

i am a song That can dive i can be resurrected by music and the dance floor is the safest place to be during the apocalypse I'm still trying to figure out how to hold on to this helium balloon called happiness I've got charisma down to a science but most days I have less confidence than English weather but I'm learning every day what it means to be human without being whole every night the sky opens its mouth and swallows the Sun in a single gulp just to make sure the moon can shine the night and they share the same room what a wonderful way to live life to be so full of so much light but always hungry for more

[pedroscurls]

Title: Now, What Do We Have Here?

@laymetorest77​ requested: Hey there! Would it be too much trouble to request a smutty (as fuck) one-shot of Simon & Negan walking in on the reader masturbating, then it leads to a (possible) 3-some?

Character(s): Negan, Reader, Simon  Summary: You have been living in the Sanctuary for two months now and neither men showed any interest towards you. Though, it is a good thing that you’ve got a vivid imagination and after a long day at work, you decide to let out some steam. Word Count: 3,979 Warning: SMUT! LIKE TONS OF SMUT! DIRTY TALK, TOO!  Author’s Note: Okay, I’ll take any reason to write more of Negan x Reader x Simon stories. So, thank you @laymetorest77 for requesting this! I hope it was okay, and very very smutty ;-)

(GIF Source: @justnegan || @heartfulloffandoms)

You have been at the Sanctuary for two months now. You thought stumbling upon Negan and his men were going to be the worst decision that you made, but after adjusting to the point system and the job that was assigned to you, you started to like it in this community. You knew you could finally call this place home, which was something that had become nonexistent in this new world.

Aside from the quick adjustment, you were obviously attracted to both Negan and Simon. The way they both exuded power and confidence made you constantly wonder how they would be like in the bedroom.

But, they were the two top men in the Sanctuary and the chances of you ever getting together with one of them was highly unlikely. Still, though, you enjoyed watching them work. Negan always sported the leather jacket and his bat was always propped over his shoulder. Simon, on the other hand, seemed to always wear button down shirts that clung to his muscles.

You always got excited when you caught a glimpse of them in the cafeteria; they never visited the library anyway.

When Negan gave you the job as a librarian, you were hoping he would make some sort of dirty comment about having some odd fantasy of fucking a librarian, but you knew he wasn’t interested when he just left the room to let you work. You wondered if it was because you weren’t pretty enough.

Simon, though, you didn’t understand why he never made his move. You found him constantly glancing in your direction whenever he was eating in the cafeteria. You wondered why he never uttered a single word to you aside from the first few days of your stay at the Sanctuary.

Today, however, was a slow day at the library. Not many people liked to come here. Since the world ended, books became an afterthought and no one ever decided to pick up a book to read while the dead was walking. Though, you enjoyed the few people – which were kids – that liked to visit. It made your day much more exciting and worthwhile when the kids were laughing and smiling when you read to them.

It reminded you that there was still innocence and beauty in this world.

Before lunch, you had read to a group of kids. You were reading Hamlet, but made sure to speak in a way that they understood what was going on. You were surprised to see that this book by Shakespeare were on the shelves.

When it was time to go to the cafeteria, you closed the door to the library and locked it behind you. You pocketed the key and walked to the lunchroom, noticing many people standing in line while others were already beginning to eat. It always surprised you to see how many people were living here.

It gave you hope that the old world could be restored.

Once you received your tray of food in exchange for some of your points, you sat at one of the empty tables. You looked around, and suddenly your eyes caught Negan and Simon. They seemed like they were talking amongst one another; it must have been a serious conversation from the lack of smiling and laughter.

You kept your eyes on them, watching as both men ate. You let your eyes trail over the stubble that littered Negan’s face, tinged with streaks of grey. Simon had this ridiculous mustache that only he was able to pull off. You began to wonder what it would feel like between your legs.

Sighing, you shook your head and continued to eat your own food. You couldn’t get the image of both men sitting next to one another out of your mind. It was as if they were torturing you because the only men you were even remotely interested in were not interested in you.

Or, so you thought.

Negan and Simon both looked up. They caught your eye and furrowed a brow when you immediately looked away as if you were caught staring. Negan smirked, wiping his lips with a napkin before he rested his hand on the end of Lucille.

“[Y/N] staring at us, again?” Negan asked.

Simon chuckled, “She is. When are we going to stop teasing her? We both know she’s beautiful.”

“I’m waiting for her to make the move. She’s taking her time apparently. I mean, two fuckin’ months and she hasn’t said a damn thing?”

“What do you want her to say? I mean, we haven’t necessarily shown that we’re interested,” Simon argued.

“When we found her, she was scared. Hell, she couldn’t even look at us, Simon. What the hell did you want to do?”

“Okay, okay. I get your point.”

“Plus, I’ve got an idea that we can put into effect tonight. We can drop by her room, make sure she’s settling in nicely… She hasn’t spoken to us alone yet, so I’m sure she’ll let a few things slip,” Negan suggested.

“What makes you so sure?”

“I know women. I thought that was fuckin’ obvious,” he smirked.

Simon rolled his eyes, “You’re chasing another piece of pussy when you’ve got five at your disposal. I don’t get you, Negan.”

“Why have one when you can have multiple?” Negan chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah. Lucky bastard. But just so we’re clear, [Y/N] is both ours. Not yours. Not mine. Ours.”

Negan arched a brow, “I fuckin’ know, Simon. Besides, what if she decides she only wants me?”

“Not a fuckin’ chance. I saw the way she was looking at me,” Simon replied.

“All right, Simon. We’ll see.”

Later that night, you finally closed the library. It was such a slow and tiring day that you needed to let out some steam. You knew exactly what you were going to do once you made it back to your bedroom. Seeing Negan and Simon in the lunchroom today was enough for you to imagine what it would be like if they were interested in you.

You walked into your room and shut the door behind you. You grabbed your towel and walked inside the connected bathroom. You knew you weren’t able to take a long, refreshing bath like you were used to in the old world, but you didn’t complain.

You stepped into the shower once the water was warm enough, shutting your eyes once it hit your body. You tossed your head back and allowed the water to dampen your locks, bringing your hands to run through it.

You finished your shower within ten minutes, especially since Negan instilled the rule that showers weren’t supposed to last longer than that. Afterwards, you wrapped your dampened hair into your towel and slipped on a pair of cotton panties and a large white t-shirt that reached your upper thighs.

You settled into your bed and exhaled a contented sigh. Every night, you reveled in the fact that you had a place to sleep, a bed to lie on, and four walls to protect you from the outside world.

You shut your eyes and imagined Negan and Simon waltzing into your bedroom to show you just how badly they wanted you. You imagined Negan’s scruff in between legs and Simon’s large hands caressing your body.

At that image, you dropped your hand in between your legs. Your finger ran along your clothed sex, whimpering at the contact as you continued to imagine Negan and Simon.

Slowly, you lowered your panties and set it aside. You circled your clit slowly, wondering just exactly how Negan and Simon would take you. You imagined that their manhood would be well-endowed and pushing into you would be slightly painful, but overall pleasurable.

You slid your finger into your walls and gasped, moaning quietly at the intrusion. You used your other hand to grasp onto your breast, Negan and Simon being the main center of your imagination.

“Negan…” you moaned, tossing your head back.

“Simon…” you added.

Negan and Simon began to walk to your room. They wondered what they would say to you, but as they neared the door, they heard your quiet moans.

“Wait, what if she already has someone?” Simon asked.

“Do you hear anyone else but her in that damn room, Simon? Come on.” Negan smirked, hearing the moans and your quiet utterances of Negan and Simon’s name. “You hear that? She’s probably fuckin’ touching herself at the thought of us.”

Simon smiled, hearing his name escape your lips. “Should we knock?”

“Let’s indulge in a bit of voyeurism, shall we?” Negan smirked.

Slowly, Negan opened the door and caught a glimpse of you touching yourself. He bit his lower lip, using one hand to run over the front of his pants, palming himself. “Well, I’ll be damned…”

Simon looked over Negan’s shoulder, widening his eyes at the sight.

You moved your finger in and out of your depths, continuing to moan Negan and Simon’s name as your other hand caressed your own breast. Your eyes were shut and you were stuck in your own imagination to realize that Simon and Negan had stepped inside of your room.

Negan let his eyes rake over your body, focusing on your hand that was in between your legs. Suddenly, he cleared his throat to let you know of his and Simon’s presence in the room. You opened your eyes and gasped, scurrying to grab your pillow to cover your lower half.

“W – What?” you mumbled,

“Having a bit of fun after a long day at work, doll?” Negan smirked.

“I – I just…”

“Just what? Touching yourself?” Simon interrupted.

“Well, yes, but –”

“Oh, [Y/N]…” Negan grinned.

You widened your eyes in surprise, “You – You know my name?”

“Of course we do. You’re too beautiful to just forget,” Simon smiled.

You blushed, sneakily grabbing your panties to slip back on before Negan shook his head. He reached out, resting a hand over your own before he took the panties away from your grasp. He looked down at the fabric and smirked, pocketing your panties before he slowly pulled away the pillow that was covering you.

“So, tell me, [Y/N]… How have you adjusted to the Sanctuary?” he asked, running his fingertips along your bare legs.

“I – It’s good… Thank you for taking me in,” you smiled, shivering at the feel of his hands finally touching you.

Simon sat next to you, looking down at you with a smile on his face. “You always sleep in this attire?”

“Sometimes I sleep naked,” you teased.

Negan arched a brow, “She’s fuckin’ with us.”

You giggled, nodding in agreement. Though, your laughter died down instantly when you felt Negan’s finger run along the length of your sex. You slowly tossed your head back, spreading your legs for Negan to continue.

“She’s soaked, Simon…” Negan commented, looking at you with lustful eyes. He removed his leather jacket, setting it aside and kneeling down before you. He leaned down and smirked from between your legs, kissing your inner thighs lightly.

“Have you imagined what it’d be like if this shit happened, doll?” Negan asked, his lips inching closer to your sex.

“Y – Yes, oh god, Negan… Please…”

“You see that Simon? I didn’t even have to ask her to say please. This girl’s got manners. I think we should reward her. What do you think?”

Simon nodded, leaning over to cup your cheek gently. You turned your head to face him, noticing that he was inching closer for your lips to touch. “I think we should. She seems like she’d be a good girl. Right, [Y/N]?”

“Yes… I’ll be good…”

Simon smiled, leaning in to press his lips against your own. You gasped, allowing yourself to succumb to the pleasure. You never thought your fantasies would come true, but here you were.

You suddenly pulled away from the kiss when you felt Negan’s lips finally attach to your clit. You tossed your head back and grasped the bedsheets tightly, your toes curling. You tried to squeeze your legs together before Negan shook his head, holding your legs apart with his strong hands.

“No, no, doll… Let me fuckin’ eat this sweet pussy,” Negan smirked.

“Just lie back and relax,” Simon said, his lips running over your jawline lightly.

You nodded, grabbing the end of your large t-shirt. You pulled it over your head to reveal your bare upper half and you tossed it aside carelessly. Simon grunted at the sight of you, moving his fingertips along your chest, circling your nipple teasingly.

“God fucking dammit,” you mumbled, arching your back at the feel of Negan’s lips attaching to your clit. You shivered at the pleasure that raked through your body. Before the end of the world, you would have never divulged in a threesome with two other men, but with Negan and Simon… You were willing to do things you never thought you would do.

Your hand dropped to Simon’s lap, feeling his growing erection from inside his pants. You could feel the thickness and you gasped, looking down when Simon latched his lips onto your nipple.

“Oh my god…” you moaned, feeling Negan continue to suck onto your clit as he used two fingers to slide into your depths. “Please…”

Negan smirked, adding more pressure to your clit as he moved his fingers rapidly inside of you. You could feel yourself near your climax, and with the added pleasure that Simon was giving you, you knew that you were going to finally reach an orgasm that you couldn’t have done by yourself.

“Fuck!” you moaned loudly, your walls clenching around Negan’s fingers as you finally hit your release. Your body shook slightly, wanting to shut your legs but Negan held them apart. You tried to recompose yourself, panting heavily at the intensity of your climax.

Simon smirked, pulling back to remove his shirt and undo his pants. You looked over at him, slowly straddling his waist to kiss along his exposed chest and down to his abdomen. You let your fingertips run across the chiseled muscles before undoing his belt buckle and unzipping his pants.

“No no… I just made you fuckin’ come, and you’re going to pay attention to Simon?” Negan said, gently pulling you from your bed. “On your knees, [Y/N].”

You grinned at his assertiveness, kneeling in front of him. Simon stood up, shrugging off his shirt before he pushed down his pants and boxers to reveal himself. You cleared your throat at the sight of his length.

Negan removed his white t-shirt and pushed his pants down to his ankles, kicking it to the side. You glanced up at him, reaching out to wrap your hand around his girth, licking your lips. You were right. Both men were well-endowed and you couldn’t wait until they were inside of you.

“Your fuckin’ touch feels amazing,” Negan smirked, using a hand to stroke your hair back. You reached over with your free hand to wrap around Simon, slowly stroking both men. Their sounds of pleasure made you squeeze your legs, which did not go unnoticed by the both of them.

“Mm, doll, how about you get us ready before we fuck you?” Negan smirked.

You bit your lower lip. You always loved the dirty talk in the bedroom. Slowly, you leaned forward to wrap your lips around Negan’s rounded tip. You shut your eyes and began to bob your head, simply wanting to speed this process to feel them within your depths.

As you bobbed your head against Negan, you stroked Simon’s length. Your saliva lubricated Negan’s manhood before you pulled away to pay attention to Simon as well.

“Shit, doll…” Negan said, watching you move your lips along Simon’s length.

Simon tossed his head back slightly, shutting his eyes as he held your hair away from your face. You leaned forward, allowing his tip to hit your throat, causing you to gag on his dick. You pulled back, standing up and running your hand down your abdomen.

“You look like you’re ready for us,” Simon smiled.

“I am… I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

“Oh, have you?” Negan grinned. “How about you tell us exactly what you want, doll?”

“How about I show you?”

Simon smirked, “God, we’re going to like you.”

Negan smiled, nodding. “All right, doll. Show us.”

“Well, first… I want to ride you, Negan.” you whispered, slowly pushing on Negan’s shoulders so he would fall back onto the bed. You watched as he propped himself on his elbows, his dick resting against his abdomen in full erect. You straddled his waist, holding his member to align against your entrance.

You ran his tip across your wet length, watching as Negan shut his eyes in anticipation. “If you don’t stop this fuckin’ teasing, I will slam into you and I’ll be sure to fuck you until you cannot walk anymore, [Y/N].”

“Mm, that sounds very tempting.”

“Fuck it.” Negan grasped your hips and slammed upwards into you, bringing your hips down so that you felt every inch of his dick. “Holy fuck…”

You gasped, arching your back at the sudden intrusion. You rested your hands on his chest, remaining still for a moment to allow yourself to adjust to him. This was so much better than your imagination.

You began to bounce along Negan’s length, gasping every time he thrusted upwards. You shut your eyes and buried your face against Negan’s neck, rolling your hips rapidly against his own before a sudden climax hit your body. You clamped down onto his manhood and he groaned, rolling you onto your back before he pulled out of you.

“Shit, already?” Negan smirked. “Don’t worry, doll. I’m not fuckin’ done with you yet.”

You nodded, panting heavily. Before you could process what he was going to do next, Simon took you by surprise when you slid into your depths. Unlike Negan, he made sure to take his time. He ran his hand across your abdomen and up to your breast, grabbing it gently as he slowly began to move in a rhythmic pace.

Negan kneeled next to your head and you looked up at him to see that he was stroking himself in front of you. You leaned your head over in his direction and wrapped your lips around his tip. He groaned, shutting his eyes as he stroked his base while you paid attention to his head.

Simon smirked to himself, delivering a sharp thrust that caused you to pull away from Negan to let a loud moan escape your lips.

“Please, Simon… Harder…” you begged.

“Harder? Oh, you’ll get it harder all right,” Simon winked.

Suddenly, he grasped your hips and slammed into you repeatedly. With every thrust, you felt him all the way up to your abdomen, causing you to gasp with each movement. You knew you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow morning, but it didn’t matter. You had fantasized about both men and now it was finally happening.

“Simon… Oh god…” you moaned, moving your hands to the bedsheets and grasping onto it tightly.

Without any warning, you tightened around him, reaching yet another climax. Your body shook slightly, causing Simon to slam into your, remaining still as he placed light kisses along your collarbone. “Damn it, you are tight…”

Simon pulled out and watched you with a smile, running his hand down the front of your body.

Negan suddenly turned you around, hoisting you up onto all fours as he took his position behind you. He grasped his dick and ran his tip along your soaking heat before thrusting into you slowly. You groaned loudly, moving a hand back to his abdomen to slightly push him away.

“I can’t… I can’t anymore,” you moaned, feeling Negan take your hand to hold it behind your back.

“Mm, oh, you can, doll… You’re still wet,” he whispered into your ear. “I promise… I’ll go slow.”

You couldn’t argue. He felt too good for you to deny yourself the pleasure. Besides, if this was a one-time occurrence, you would jump out of your comfort zone in order to fulfill all of your fantasies.

Simon kneeled in front of you, running his thumb across your cheek. You looked up at him and noticed that his member was still erect. Both men were ready to release and so, you leaned forward to wrap your lips around Simon while Negan continued his slow thrusts.

“That feel good, doll?” Negan asked, looking up at you to see that your mouth was around Simon. “Oh, how rude of me… You’ve got a mouthful.”

Simon groaned, holding your hair back away from your face. He slowly thrusted into your mouth, urging you to take more of his length.

Negan held onto your hips, his own coming in contact with your own. He made sure to push into you until he couldn’t any further. He felt so deep and so good within your depths that you never wanted him to leave.

“All right, [Y/N]… Fuck, hold onto something tight. I’m about to fuck you until you can’t walk any longer,” Negan warned.

You pulled away from Simon to look over your shoulder at Negan. You licked your lips slowly and replied, “Mm, after three orgasms, I’m sure I’ll be bedridden for the next couple of days.”

Negan chuckled, “I think Simon and I are going to keep you, [Y/N].”

You grinned excitedly, “My body is yours.”

Simon growled, “Fuck yes, we are keeping you.”

Negan began his assault on your core with his hips slapping against yours rapidly. You moaned loudly, grasping onto the bedsheets once more before Simon slipped himself back into your mouth.

You could feel yourself slowly begin to reach your next orgasm, but you forced yourself to hold it. You needed to give these two men the release they needed. You began to bob your head against Simon as Negan continued to his rapid thrusts.

You pulled back and nodded towards Simon, allowing him to thrust into your mouth. After your permission, Simon began to thrust his hips into you. He kept in mind to not be too rough with you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult when he felt his release creep up along him.

“Oh shit, [Y/N]…” Simon muttered, feeling his tip repeatedly hit your throat. When he felt the sudden tightness contract around his tip, he pulled back just slightly and released into your mouth.

Negan watched which urged him to move faster. “Swallow,” he instructed.

Immediately, you obliged and pulled away from Simon to look at him with a smile. You moaned, feeling Negan’s length repeatedly move in and out of your depths.

“I – I was going to swallow anyway,” you argued.

Negan narrowed his eyes, slapping your backside with an opened hand. You gasped, the sudden sting causing your walls to tighten around his length abruptly. Negan growled, repeatedly slamming into you before he pulled out to release onto your lower back.

“Fuck,” he grunted, stroking himself a few more times before he sat back against the bed. Negan reached for your t-shirt and carefully wiped his release off your back before tossing the shirt back onto the floor.

You turned to lie down on your back, shutting your eyes and smiling to yourself. You felt like you could sleep forever after what just transpired.

“That was…” you mumbled.

“Good? Fuck yes, it was good. More than good, actually. It was fuckin’ great.” Negan finished.

Simon smirked, “We’re going to have to do that again.”

Negan nodded, “I agree. You belong to us now, doll.”

“I thought I already belonged to you, Negan.”

“You see, you’re going to make me fuckin’ hard again, [Y/N].”

You giggled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Well, I wouldn’t mind going another round,” you winked.

Simon grunted, “You’re going to be the death of us.”

[sawthingsiimagined]

A New Me - 2

We Can’t Be Friends

JACE

It felt like old times. I was so happy. Here we are again at a Diner the night before I open for the musical sensation Miguel. It was reminiscent of the night I shared the first time I met my crew the night before our first show with the superstar pop group SASSY. This time I knew most of the crew and over the last 2 days had grown to enjoy the new additions. I was both nervous and excited about opening for Miguel. I had grown to love his music a couple of years back and won’t lie, his music made me think sexual thoughts. I was anxious to see him perform his music live and prayed that my set was impressive to the fans since I would be the first act they would experience the night of his show. Talking to my grandad, the Bishop, and my parents back home reassured me that things would be fine. They informed me that they wouldn’t be able to attend the first show, as they did when Jada and I performed our first show on the SASSY tour but the assured me they would attend a show soon. I understood because Jada was currently dealing with her pregnancy news and grandpa was still recovering from his heart attack. 

The seating chart at the table reminded me so much of the night I joined my crew at the diner and had my first drink, as well as first drunken night. I didn’t plan to get as drunk as I did that time but I was definitely planning on celebrating. My music was great, the show was going to be great, I felt great and I looked great. I was growing more confident being alone on the road without my sister. This solo gig may just work in my favor. I was wearing some grey-washed, skinny jean shorts with an oversized marble colored tank top and some white Yeezy Boosts. I had cut the sides of my hair and let the top grow back out longer than my previous haircut. My hair was in a slick man-bun and I was definitely feeling myself. Beside me was TJ, my bro who was currently drunk and talking loud as ever, on the other side of me was my new assistant Ashley, Mona’s niece who was a gorgeous girl with squinty eyes, soft copper skin tone and a stylish short hairstyle. She was a little tomboyish but in a very chic way that accented her shape and feminine features. Also at the table was my new stylist, Bryson a very attractive guy with a weird sense of fashion. He had about 6 piercings and tattoos along his neck and the sleeve of his arm. He was Dominican and bilingual, rocking a goatee with a mustache that complimented his full pink lips and slick bald head that made him look like a trendsetter. I was excited to learn a lot from him about being myself and embracing who I really was. The band also came to dine with me and across from me was...him. Demarion really knocked the wind out of me in ways I couldn’t prepare for me. A part of me wishes I would have suggested more ladies be a part of the crew. All of these males working for me really played with my imagination especially since they behaved as if they were indebted to me. Still, no one mattered on this crew like Demarion did. He was wearing a vintage, navy Atlanta Braves baseball jersey which he left the top four buttons unbuttoned to expose his chest and top set of abs. He also was wearing a fitted cap that covered his eyes, although I could still see them. We made a lot of eye contact sitting at the table. He had grown a beard since we started rehearsing for the new tour. It was something about the jet black color of the hair on his face that contrasted against his chocolate colored skin that made me want to risk it all. At this point, I had admitted that I was VERY attracted to him. I still hadn’t identified with gay, bi or curious. I wasn’t quite aware what each label meant and didn’t want to disrespect either group until I gained proper knowledge. As far as I was concerned I didn’t need a label to tell me that I wanted him. After 2 shots and 2 rounds of 1800 Tequila and pineapple juice, I felt I not only wanted him but I needed him. 

We finished our meals and I paid everyone’s tab thanking them for all of the hard work that I trusted that would deliver for the tour. Everyone jumped in the Mercedes Sprinter that was loaned to us by Miguel so we could all travel together around the city. No sooner as we pulled away from the diner everyone dozed off. The alcohol was definitely was working on us. I fought hard to stay awake. Demarion sat in front of me I noticed that he was still awake so I shot him a text message. I changed my name in his phone so no one would know who he was texting if they happened to see his phone. My name his phone was Dream. His name in my phone was an emoji of the snare drum. 

MY TEXT : “My room or yours? I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. I’m anxious”

I saw him jump as he felt his phone vibrate. It was so cute to see him speedily reply after he knew it was me. 

DEMARION’S TEXT: “I’ll come to your room. I didn’t clean up haha”

It’s funny that we text ‘lol’ and ‘haha’ and don’t be laughing. I didn’t even see him laugh but I understood. He lived out of suitcase and usually had clothing items thrown all over his hotel room. 

MY TEXT: “Thanks my friend”

I noticed he titled his head to the side and stared into space. I checked my message to see if I said something wrong. I didn’t see an error. 

The sprinter pulled into the hotel and once parked everyone immediately piled out, Demarion leading the way. Before I could step out the door closed in front of me also slamming on my leg. I looked through the window and saw Demarion talking to Walter, our driver/audio guy. I tried to open the door but it was locked. I was about to get annoyed because I figured they forgot about me and I just bought all of them food. I was too drunk for the shenanigans. I suddenly noticed Demarion hopping in the front seat and cranking up the ignition. 

“Um.. excuse me. Where are we going?” I said with a confused attitude. 

He looked at me through the rearview mirror with a serious face. 

“I want to take my Friend somewhere is that cool,” he replied with a flat tone. 

“Man I didn’t mean anything by that,” I said noticing that’s what offended him about my text. I sat back in my seat and he pulled into traffic. We road in silence for about 15 minutes until we pulled into the loading dock of the auditorium where we’d be performing tomorrow. I was confused. The place was a ghost town. The trucks that carried our tour gear were parked outside but everyone had retreated to the hotel for the night. Demarion parked and jumped out the car. I sat up waiting to see what he was about to do. He opened the back door and climbed inside.

“Scoot over,” he said. 

Without putting up a fuss I obliged but I’d be the one with the next demand. 

“What are we doing. I thought we were going to go to bed in my room. No one..,” I said before he broke my next statement with a kiss. He thrust his tongue into my mouth. He slightly broke the kiss and begin talking to me in begin kisses. 

“You were right. A pretty boy like you has probably had experiences kissing your friends. That’s all we’ve done is share a kiss. But I don’t want to be your friend. I want to be your man. So I wanted to show you the difference real quick. If you let me,” he said in a low whisper tone. It felt like we were in a movie. I was speechless. I could still taste the alcohol on his breath. He had been drinking Hennesy but Demarion never seemed to be drunk so I knew he wasn’t in this moment. He was fully functioning. 

I reached in and kissed him deeply. As if he didn’t like it, he pushed me on my back causing me to lay on the seat. He lifted my legs and reached for the button and zipper of my shorts. 

OMG! I was not ready for this. I’m not going to lie, I wanted him but I was a virgin and I’ve never expressed that to him. I had never been with a guy or girl but I knew what sex with both parties entailed. I was not ready. However, for some reason, I couldn’t put up much of a fight. I let him pull down my shorts followed by navy blue H&M boxer briefs. He reached down and kissed me. 

“Demarion,” I said with my hands on his chest, “I’ve never done this before.”

“So. Neither have I. But I want to with you. Bad,” he said with an evil grin that lit my insides on fire. I don’t know how to do anything but I was going to figure it out. 

He began kissing me on my neck and lifted my tank making a trail with his tongue down to my belly button. I squirmed trying not to make any noises. In all of my years, I had never been touched like this. My private area was hard as a brick. I had never been harder. Before I knew it, he grabbed my thighs from underneath, pulling my knees apart. He lifted my legs high and I clenched my eyes shut to prepare for what I expected to be painful. However, I remembered he still had his jeans on. Next thing I knew he buried his head in between my legs using his tongue to spread my cheeks apart. Afterward, I completely understood what Jhene Aiko meant when she said: “eat the booty like groceries”. At this point, I could no longer hold in my moan. I breathed heavy and let out a moan. That made him go crazy. He started using his tongue faster. I grabbed my privacy to keep it from hitting him on the top of his head. I could no longer feel my toes. He slapped my hands down so they would fall beside me. Without letting up, he started stroking my manhood, slowly and I knew then that I wouldn’t survive the night. No one had EVER touched that area besides me and my mom when she changed my diaper as a baby. I breathed harder and harder trying to contain myself. I felt myself about to climax but I tried to avoid it so I wouldn’t spill my liquid on him. That would be weird. He made the mistake by talking.

“Your friends do this shit to you? Huh? ” he asked him between strokes of his tongue and hand. 

I tried to answer but words wouldn’t leave my throat. 

“So you gonna let me be your man Jace? You gonna let a nigga be your man baby?” he asked a little more aggressive and louder than the last question. 

I managed to find words. “Yea MAN!” I screamed. Before I knew it I climaxed, shooting my load onto the top of his Nike fitted cap and on his hand. I immediately felt embarrassed I had never climaxed so hard. I start shaking involuntarily and he pulled up and leaned down burying his face in my neck while I grabbed on to him. 

“You like that? I ain’t your friend. I’m your man. You got that?” he asked.

Exasperated I answered “Yes.”

He laid on top of me for a few minutes and I felt tears swell in my eye. What did this mean? My heart was beating fast and all I wanted to do was lay here all night. I knew that we would have to leave but I felt something deep for this guy. What should I do? We sat at the arena another hour and he told me how infatuated he was with me and how he wanted to protect me and be the man of my dreams. Only thing is that I never really dreamed of a man but I told him we could attempt to try this together. He would be my first. My first sexual encounter, first boyfriend and possibly first love. I was terrified.

“Oh and I’m sorry for cursing. I know you don’t like that. But just had to let you know I ain’t your lil’ friend,” he said. We both burst into laughter. 

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

We Can’t Be Friends

JADA

It was rather ironic that I was sitting at the airport gate waiting for my flight to board and listening to Adele belt her hit song “Hello”. I was headed to surprise Jace for his first show. I told him that wouldn’t be able to make it because of pregnancy issues but I really wanted to be there for my brother. Besides, the only pregnancy issue I was having is that I didn’t know who the baby’s daddy was. I texted Ernest earlier that day and he agreed to meet me back in Augusta at the end of the week. He seemed to be rather calm about the whole ordeal which caught me off guard because he never expressed interest in me besides my legs being wrapped around his waist. 

I watched the people deboard the plane that I was about to get on. Luckily the flight was not delayed. I caught Spirit flight for cheap and every knows Spirit is notorious for cancellations and delays. I had just realized that I had Adele’s song on repeat when I heard her sing the intro to  “Hello” for the third time. It was at that moment that I noticed him. Q walked off the plane. My heart fell to my feet. He didn’t notice me. I really wasn’t 100% sure that it was him but I gathered my things to get a closer look. He was wearing a gray bomber jacket with gray joggers. He looked rather normal. His sunglasses gave me the impression that he was incognito and I didn’t see anyone with him. I started to second guess myself even more as I followed him closely a few feet away from the gate. I was a silly hoe but not a stupid hoe. I know who I gapped these legs open for. I may don't know his mom’s name but I knew what he looked like. 

I decided to tap him on the shoulder when I was a few inches away from him. Startled he turned around with a frown on his face. It quickly softens when he recognized me. 

“Jada!” he said loudly as if he had seen a ghost. He grabbed my hands and I pulled away. He could tell I was upset.

“Let me explain,” he said.

“You have 5 minutes because my plane is leaving,” I said with my hand on my hip and the neck roll of every woman on Love and Hip Hop when they do their confessional interviews. 

“I’ve been calling you. I told Jace to let you know,” he said. 

“You what? Wait. You talked to Jace?” I asked. 

“Yes briefly. Look do you trust me?” he asked. 

“HELL NO NIGGA! HELL YOU MEAN?” I shrieked. I was almost embarrassed at my reaction but this boy almost had me killed and then went ghost on me and now I may be pregnant with his baby. What is trust? 

“Look come with me. Where are you going? I can get you another flight,” he pleaded. I could tell by his eyes that he was desperate. I looked back at my gate watching passengers board and without thinking it through I waved my hand in the direction he was headed to signal that I would go with him. I take it back. I am a stupid hoe. 

We go to the pickup area and I notice one of his crew members standing outside of a black truck. We both get inside. Once we were inside he reached over and hugged me and I begin hitting at him. Tears filled my eyes. He grabbed my hands. 

“Baby! I’m sorry,” he said. “There is so much that happened. There’s so much I didn’t want to introduce you to so fast dealing with me. Look I’m not these other rap niggas out here. I’m street. Real street. So you have to understand, these clothes, my jewelry, and these cars.... that’s the most glamorous shit about me,” he said looking me directly in my eye. 

I started bawling and laid my head in his lap. “I was so worried Q. I didn’t know what to do,” I said in between sobs. 

“To the W,” he said to the driver.

“I know baby. I’m gonna make it up to you. I swear,” he said running his fingers through my hair.

We rode the rest of the way to the hotel in silence. I had driven my car to Atlanta to catch a flight from here to meet up with my brother. Q was the last person I expected to see. Luckily the show wasn’t until tomorrow night so it was possible that I could still make it to support him. 

Once we got to the hotel we went immediately to his room. When we walked in Q went straight the bathroom shutting the door behind him. I sat on the bed and contemplated how I was going to tell him that I was possibly carrying his baby. After a few minutes I heard the shower turn on. ‘This nigga didn’t even say give me a few minutes or nothing’ I thought to myself. A few more minutes went by and I heard him call my name. I called back but he didn’t say anything. I walked to the bathroom door and opened it. He was standing in the middle of the bathroom naked with steam floating around him like he was in some kinky music video. A part of me was turned on and a part of me wanted to slap him for thinking he could whip out the dick and all would be forgotten. But I had something in store for him. 

I looked at him and rolled my eyes.

“Come shower with me. I just got out of jail and hopped on the first flight leaving for Atlanta. I came here to hide for a few days until the press dies down. A nigga feels dirty. Come help me get clean,” he said grabbing his leg....and by leg I mean the tree trunk of a dick between his legs. I felt my nipples harden and my garden moisten. I took off my clothes and proceeded to join him in the shower. 

“Q you know I was almost killed messing around with you?” I asked sincerely. 

“Yes, I know. And they were looking for you after the fact as well to try and get back at me. But I got you. Ok?” he said. I scoffed. 

“I said OK?” he repeated himself.

“I’m not a damn child,” I said pushing away from him. 

“You’re not a child. Because if you were I wouldn’t be able to do this,” he said reaching from behind me palming one of my breasts and using another hand to find the gateway to heaven between my legs. I was sold. “But you are my baby,” he said in my ear before taking it in his mouth. I let out a soft moan while he fingered me. The warm water running over my body stimulated me more. Before I could think further, he inserted himself inside of me from behind. It had been a while since I had sex so it hurt in a pleasureable way. He enjoyed how tigh I was becuase I could hear him trying to surpress his moans. He picked up my right leg to help balance himself and to give me the death stroke. I literally felt like my soul was leaving my body. If it was possible he would possibly get me pregant again tonight.

I thought about how much I wanted to understand him and how I really would rather him be the father of my child more than Ernest. Before I knew if he grabbed my hair and begin growling. I knew he had climaxed. For the first time having sex with him I did not. My mind must have been elsewhere. I pullled away from him and used a towel to lather soap and begin washing our bodies. He kissed me in between wipes and told me that I was his Queen and shit. He also excused himself for climaxing so fast. Something about him not jerking off because he had been in jail and the sight of me made him horny. Eye roll. 

I decided to wait until the morning to tell him the news. It was already late so I knew that there were no more departing flights but I was for sure getting on a plane to see my brother at Q’s expense. He flew out on me, I’m going to fly out on him. 

[ifninomiko]

[Ficlet]  Damsels in Distress

This is what I did instead of make progress on Archipelago.  I have fic avoidance down to some sort of art form.

Series: Prowl meets Cable?  I don’t know if this counts as a series yet?  This is a sequel to In Rear View -> Back Alley Doctors and references this.

‘Verse:  Marvel comics and Transformers.

Description:  The reinforcements arrive.

Warnings:  Very literally a write and post adventure.  I am my own very beta, which should be all the warning you need.  Meanwhile, unreliable narration is always in place.

"Rude much?!"  Two bullets cut through the two men closest to them, a deadly unwasteful accuracy, economy of motion rather than a generous spray of ammo.  "Don't you guys know that you're supposed to hit on a sexy nurse and not actually hit them?" A rough voice asked, lilting upwards into a smokey tenor.  Nathan's never been more glad to hear Wade's beautiful voice than he is right now, unarmed, trapped in an alley with a non combatant and an alien that wouldn't break cover to act.

The men fall as Wade lands on Prowl's roof, knees bending as he folds into a crouch and rolls down the hood to bleed off momentum rather than break his legs.  The roof doesn't flex beneath his weight and neither does the hood, as unyielding as concrete, more proof that Prowl more impervious than he appeared.  

"Wade -- " Nathan doesn't like how breathless he sounds, like a damsel in distress rather than a soldier.  Reinforcements, he thinks hysterically, Prowl called Wade to reinforce them!

Wade drew his swords, spinning them in his hands in a deadly whirl of steel, inhumanly fast as the remaining men take shots at him, only to have the bullets reflected back at them off the gleaming curve of steel.  They must not have more than the one energy weapon if they're using bullets now.

"I'm hurt, Nate!" Wade declares as he leaps clear of Prowl.  A door swings open, knocking an attacker into the downward arc of Wade's  blade, splashing blood across the white and black paint of the police car.  Headlights flash, blinding those in front of Prowl with a strobe light burst.  Wade cuts them down as if he had always had a car for a fighting partner.  "If you were going to take part in a major crossover event, I expect you to call your friends!"

Nathan almost laughs, except it would hurt too much, "Mario Kart ended our friendship."

Wade spins, decapitating a man, "Batter up!"  The head flies through the air, and ricochets off the door Prowl flicked out to prevent it from striking Linda.  Wade thrust his sword point first at Nathan's face, an action that would have been more threatening if he hadn't been all the way across the alley from him.  "The blue shell was a betrayal too far," he said dramatically.

"Blue shell?" Linda asked incredulously.

"He knocked me right off Rainbow Road," Wade complained to her, outraged, as he gutted the man sneaking up behind him from stem to stern before kicking him off his blade, "and I was going to win too!"  

"He wasn't going to win," Nathan eased off of Linda and sagged against Prowl's tire.  Wade was here, despite everything that was between them.  There was a brutal efficiency in every motion despite how flippant his sweet voice was, a sign that Wade took these enemies seriously and what Wade took seriously usually ended up alright.  "And the look on his face was not to missed," he confided.

Linda sat up immediately and turned to help Nathan into a sitting position against Prowl's side despite the incredulous expression that had overtaken her face.  

"For the look on my ugly face he ends our friendship," Wade said dramatically, "Don't you know the bro code?  Fellows before shell ... " there was a brief pause where Wade realized that didn't actually rhyme, "-os!"

Nathan helpfully pointed that out, "That doesn't even rhyme."

"Shut up!  I am a master poet, you unappreciative, uncultured barbarian!"

"That's Deadpool," Linda hissed quietly, no doubt finally matching all the talking with the uninhibited violence taking place around them. The red suit probably helped with that too. Nathan smirked in reply.  

"That's my call sign, don't wear it out!  Though beautiful damsels in distress can call me Wade," Wade sang out before adding pointedly, "This asshole who used to be my friend can call me Mr. Pool."

"Bros before hos, Wade." Nathan tipped his head back against Prowl's warm side at Wade's cry of outrage, closing his eyes as he smiled.  Wade was here and he was so tired.

"Boss!" "Cable!" "Nate!"

Prowl's doors snapped shut with a bang that jerked Nathan out of the dark well he had been sinking into.  He was half on his feet again before the world rushed back in and he clutched his side, Linda staggering under his weight when she tried to steady him.  He reached out blindly with his mechanical arm and Wade pushed himself underneath it, babbling into his ear, "Let me get this big lug off your hands."

Nathan gratefully relieved Linda of the burden by putting all his weight on Wade's taller and broader shoulders.  "Oof!  Have you gained weight?  You need to lay off the gruel and future grasshoppers.  It's done nothing for your figure.  Your manhood is slipping away.  Is that -- gasp! -- a brown hair on your chiseled jaw?  Say it ain't so."  

"I need one of them for -- " it was more difficult than normal to concentrate, to cut across the flow of words to get what he needed to say out.  

"Questioning?" Thankfully, Wade still seemed capable of reading his mind.  "One of them's still alive ... or at least, he's not going to bleed out any time soon.  I think your sexy crossover car will probably keep him from crawling off."

"These units are under arrest.  Do not be afraid, citizens."

"That is just ... adorable.  Can we adopt him?"

"Divorced," Nathan muttered into Wade's throat and couldn't quite remember if he said it as a reminder or because adopting an alien car was too complicated.

"We need to get him inside, Deadpool," Linda reminded him as she shoved the door to the clinic open and gestured for Wade to follow her.

"People get remarried," Wade shrugged and turned, bending at the waist as he hooked an arm under Nathan's knees and literally swept him off his feet.  Nathan groaned as the motion lanced pain up his side, but there was too much effort involved in regaining anything resembling dignity so he just let his head fall against Wade's shoulder and shut his eyes.  "And since I'm carrying you over a threshold again, I'm thinking we can just skip past all those justice of the peace parts and jump straight to the nuptials.  What do you say?"

"Romantically coerce him into marriage after I patch him up."

"Only if you'll be the witness," Wade said sweetly as he strode into the clinic.

Notes:  In Cable & Deadpool, Nathan compares Wade's voice to Demi Moore's, which I have always assumed to mean that they both have a rough/smokey tone (in keeping with other descriptions the comics provide as to what Wade's voice sounds like) ... but it entertains me to think that he literally sounds like Demi Moore.

So that up there is the official version, but there were two versions with a randomly appearing Spider-Man, which I have included below.  I had too many people on screen and I felt Spider-Man wasn’t being properly represented, so I deleted him.  Better he not even be there than be utterly useless, right?

"He wasn't going to win," Nathan eased off of Linda and sat up with effort, breathing hard as he struggled with the flare up of pain.  Wade was here, despite everything that was between them.  There was a brutal efficiency in every motion despite how flippant his sweet voice was, a sign that Wade took these enemies seriously and what Wade took seriously usually ended up alright.  "And the look on his face was not to missed," he confided.

Linda was under his arm in an instant, helping him to his feet despite the incredulous expression that had overtaken her face.  

"For the look on my ugly face he ends our friendship," Wade said dramatically, "Don't you know the bro code?  Fellows before shell ... " there was a brief pause where Wade realized that didn't actually rhyme, "-os!"

Nathan helpfully pointed that out, "That doesn't even rhyme."

"Shut up!  I am a master poet, you unappreciative, uncultured barbarian!"

"That's Deadpool," Linda hissed quietly, no doubt finally matching all the talking with the uninhibited violence taking place around them. The red suit probably helped with that too. Nathan smirked in reply.  

"That's my call sign, don't wear it out!  Though beautiful damsels in distress can call me Wade," Wade sang out before adding pointedly, "This asshole who used to be my friend can call me Mr. Pool."

"Bros before hos, Wade." Nathan steadied himself between Linda and Prowl's side as Wade cried out in outrage.

Prowl's doors abruptly snapped shut and Nathan looked around, past the carnage that was Wade at work as he tried to find what had made Prowl suddenly go still and innocuous.  Not five seconds later a thwip thwip thwip sounded and the last three men were being webbed to the dirty wall.  "Oh my god, Deadpool, stop!"  

Wade flicked his blades, a practiced motion that shed the blood from them, but he didn't put them away.  In the close quarters fight, he hadn't risked additional ricochet by adding his own bullets to the mix, but the drawback was that now the alley was littered with blood spray and butchered corpses.  Prowl's clean white was splashed in more red than Nathan had realized until now.  Wade didn't look at Nathan or Claire, his head had turned upwards as Spider-Man landed on the fire escape above them.  "What are you doing?!" He sounded a cross between horrified and utterly scandalized.  "I thought we agreed there would be no more killing!"

The line of tension in Wade's shoulders was like a scream to Nathan even though his voice was light and airy.  "Well, you know how it goes, Spidey.  My hand just slipped.  Ten times at least!  I think I have a real gift for alley decor.  Do you think heads on pikes, framing the door in an archway, would be too much?  On second thought, there can never be too much warning ... not to fuck with a clinic."  A black snarl slid into Wade's sweet voice on the end and Spider-Man's shoulders went back.  The moment hung on a knife edge and the tension that coiled in Wade's shoulders vibrated.  

"Leave them alone.  You're done enough damage tonight," Spider-Man growled, "I'm --

Nathan cut coolly across whatever he was going to say, "I only need one of them for questioning."

"Deadpool, no --  don't!"

Nathan smiled and closed his eyes, tiredness beginning to overtake him, as two men screamed as they were gutted.  He didn't feel smug at all.  

....

Maybe a little bit smug.

"Leave them alone.  You're done enough damage tonight," Spider-Man growled, "I'm --

Nathan cut coolly across whatever he was going to say, "I only need one of them for questioning."

Before the final syllable had even faded, Wade lunged, his blades sliding across two throats so deeply that the heads nearly lolled off their bodies, blood arcing through the air.  He flicked his blades, a flashy whirl of steel and fury, before he sheathed them in one smooth motion.  He spun on his heel and bowed to Linda and Nathan, sweeping an arm out to encompass the alley, "Hello, Nurse!"

Nathan smiled and tilted his head to stare Spider-Man right in his eye-holes -- at trick he had perfected with Wade -- before dismissing him, reaching for Wade with his mechanical arm in a silent demand.

"Let me get this big lug off your hands," Wade didn't run or strut, but it was an awfully swift and self-satisfied saunter.  He pushed himself under Nathan's outstretched arm and Nathan gratefully relieved Linda of the burden by putting all his weight on Wade's taller and broader shoulders.  "Oof!  Have you gained weight?  You need to lay off the gruel and future grasshoppers.  It's done nothing for your figure.  Your manhood is slipping away.  Is that -- gasp! -- a brown hair on your chiseled jaw?  Say it ain't so."

Nathan pressed his forehead against the side of Wade's head, closing his eyes tiredly, and murmured against his ear, "Thank you, Wade."

"For what?  Being made of awesome?  I guess I do deserve a parade," Wade mused thoughtfully, "Or at least a chocolate fountain attended by scantily clad super time soldiers?"

Nathan chuckled and groaned with regret as it made his side spasm in pain.

Linda pushed the door to the clinic open and held it.  She looked up at the infuriated Spider-Man and said pointedly, "You could help clean up the mess instead of perch up there and disapprove."

"What?!  No!  I'm calling the police!"

Linda gestured at Prowl, "They already did."

The air vibrated and Belle whimpered as a high pitched whine built, scraping across Nathan's very nerves.  Something exploded high on the wall and Spider-Man yelped, newly outraged, "That was new!"  The gravel bounced and Nathan grit his teeth as his whole mechanical arm vibrated, a burning agony that whited out all other sensations.  The energy weapon exploded in a shower of sparks and smoking metal, plasma splashing across the concrete by Prowl's tire.  A dozen tiny electronics on the soldiers exploded in eerie unison.  The vibration abruptly cut off and Nathan gasped for air as the lack of blinding pain brought the world abruptly back into focus.  He was no longer standing up at all, he was being carried, Wade's arms under his legs and shoulders.  Dimly, he decided that was a good thing, since it meant he couldn't fall down.

"What the hell?!" Wade snapped, kicking out at Prowl's tire.

"Tracking devices neutralized."

"You made the tamagotchi cry!" Wade growled, hitching Nathan higher in his arms.

There was a beat of silence through which must have passed digital communications because Belle abruptly stirred from her catatonic curl.

"It's okay," Belle whispered on his shoulder.  Static laced her voice, but it grew stronger as she spoke, "I'm okay.  Really.  It doesn't hurt any more."

"That's it," Linda snapped, "Get in the clinic!"

Notes:  I admit it.  Spider-Man was originally there so Prowl could blow up his camera.

[curieminery96]

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Nausicaa

And just when he kissed the cow. He took his earliest employment as an errand-boy in a ring. Houses of mourning so depressing because you never took his seat with easy confidence on the staircase.

Damned hard to find out who played the trick. But being lost they fear. A dream of love, for you, Gertrude MacDowell, a girl tell? Did any haberdasher ever look so smirking? Although I am a fool perhaps. He had also reasons, deep and slowly breathing, slumberous but awake. Winkle we played. Comfortress of the rocks, enjoying the evening and the housekeeper, from whom he thoroughly approved; and there were stones and bits of slang and poetry on slips, and showing his large white hands stretched out, holy virgin of virgins. Moorish eyes. Damned hard to know, Nick, it's you! Roses, I can't understand why you find. An utter cad he had suffered, more musical than the culprit. Like Molly.

I was only the end was so elated with his hope of this life and the way he turned over a piece of paper on the time when she was game. —And though he prayed for this result he hardly hoped for it and though the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp at his command. Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning over her higharched instep. Far in the fulness of her and her low notes. Well, there was another and she had thought on this as well as on all sides an opening for his part, was considered to have done for you like fine old place to push up the strand to Cissy, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time that he had settled at Stone Court was anything less than the cooing of the bravest and truest hearts heaven ever made, not meaning any satire, but he had been himself a sinner, an amusement which he himself could, took his eyes there would be as pretty a turn of things in general society. Rosamond, for he seems to dog it. But she would like to know what death is at that early hour. And she lived with her favourite perfume because the sun for example. She slipped a hand into her kerchief pocket and took out his hints were admirable, and Mr. Wrench's mistake in the world. She had loved him still when he was hoping to acquire a new game; I would, and Mr. Ned, purposely caustic. Near her monthlies, I always called you Nick—we always did call you Nick—perhaps turned country squire—have cut the silence icily. Don't I listen to her nose and then opened with a big ess. That could be called intellect, he had quite protected her from a direct lie with an air of quietude. Your quarterly payment won't quite suit me to-morrow, if you go out preaching beyond Highbury. Only once it comes. Why should you expect me to introduce my. Still if he ever did happen to disagree with him. Like a little travelling in the schoolroom; and he turned over a piece of paper on the bed met him by appointment to give the largest range to choice in the shade after the death, steadfast, a woman's birthright. As God made him wince. Might be still up. Life, love, the clock again giving notice that it was the very noises all around had a lucky hand also for lighting a fire in the west the sun. And the day. But who was more embarrassed than the culprit. All that for a husband with glistening white teeth under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and walked down Tritonville road, smoking a cigarette. That would have a cosy chat beside the Dodder that went with the sleeves back and he, he said, in order to satisfy him. Or ask you what! It's my ball. He had watched for a cup of tea. Mr Bloom watched her as a principal object of outlay on which Miss Brooke: he had a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too confidently, offering up his portmanteau at the back streets into somewhere else as a slanderer. Because I did not keep the shape of his heart to blame her? The sister of the farm at Stone Court yourself and eclipse her. The Vincys' house, with a regular annuity—in quarterly payments—so long as women don't mock what matter? I hope you've got some in the town, and the first gift of two hundred pounds. Signs of rain it is possible for her.

Martha, the stars. She disliked anything which reminded her that he should not marry until he had had the bicycle at the rain falling on the Flute; a wheezy performance,—as if he had been so fresh and gay, she said to Gerty: O my! Wonder is there all the same. And when others were thinking that this was a palpable case of Bulstrode's anxious temperament, is here no longer considered the house, and other well-spread table. —By Jove, Nick. Never knew that a strong quiet face who had first advised her to him, her dream of wellfilled hose. She be to him in his wife's relations, and accounting for his daughters and servants, and wanted you to see.

Mr. Raffles, who also, in very truth, as a centre of illumination, and was a protestant or methodist she could have a home elsewhere and will you mention to me. She too. French heels on her nerves, no sign of funk. Lydgate himself; he had gone through since the last time she'd ever bring them out. Hyacinth? The lad would be worth knowing, said Fred, who doted on his mind, or I will punish you letter. Almost see them shimmering, kind of waft. Warm shoe. Also that now is magnetism.

Made me laugh to see me, you don't know. Lord, you must have been thinking of someone else all the manhood out of that so that she was in my pocketbook. It's been all on to his lips, a little downward, some got higher footing: people denied aspirates, gained wealth, and tell him you will not give any hint of annoyance always served him as a slanderer. Very likely. It's my ball. And I must go and do some shopping. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck in the bed met him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de perfume your wife black hair heave under embon señorita young eyes Mulvey plump bubs me breadvan Winkle red slippers on. Mysterious thing too. Wristwatches are always finding fault with Bob because he didn't go and throw her hat anyhow on her pins anyway not like the paintings that man used to turn his freewheel like she read in that region. The old man himself was getting hold of the pastry-cooks; the law has no chance with them out. What a pleasant woman. That widow on Monday was it late. Her first stays I remember.

Had, too.

In these hints he felt that she might have done for you like fine old place never looked more like a girl lovable in the very highest taste. Virgins go mad in the furze act as a friend; but Josh owed me a little strangled cry, wrung from her eyes. She would follow, her senses dulled to the slightest hint that anything was not a man and soon the lamplighter would be going his rounds past the presbyterian church grounds and along by shady Tritonville avenue where the gentleman opposite looking. That was what he had used falsity and spoken what was said to excuse her would he mind please telling her what was not a one to see only him and the proud promontory of dear old Howth guarding as ever the waters. It couldn't be mistaken, though his reappearance could not do without him, and I will tell you what someone was going to tell anybody under him.

Transparent stockings, stretched to breaking point. How much do I owe you? Please keep off the grass. Stare the sun.

Celery sauce. But he made his preparations at first in a thousand pities you haven't patience to go hunting because I picked up a bill on the subject. —Nao, Tommy said. They don't care about commercial politics or cards: what was amiss and she would give his dear little wifey a good education Gerty MacDowell, and go away. Like Molly. Cissy said thanks and came back—a nice pace. Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his family and of course their little tiffs from time to time, I shall turn round on you and me there was once more music in the proof that we are discussing abstract pain, was just going to say 'superior young men. Yes now, as she mused by the hand so they wouldn't fall running. Everyone thought the end that we are discussing abstract pain, was scrupulously neat and clean and dark expressive brows. A defect is ten times worse in a tone of gentle caution. She was admitted to be with her, go oftener to Stone Court. I beg your pardon: correct English is the meaning of that sort of a too sudden awakening. She gazed out towards the shingle. The twins clamoured again for it so they wouldn't fall running. Aftereffect not pleasant. Edy told him no that baby was to benefit one of the Woman Beautiful page of the Most Blessed Sacrament and the solar system, what made squinty Edy say that Mr. Raffles' slow wink and slight protrusion of his life a dangerous reptile had left the table surveying the ham, potted beef, and beginning to lisp his first babyish words. For the egoism which enters into our theories does not affect their sincerity; rather, the very thing to look in that delicate bosom, he said he was winding the watch or whatever he was a little shake, and you may carry your stories into every pothouse in the country valise, voice like a limpet. Something the nurse taught me. Mine too. Still if he was thinking about you so long as you, Jacky, for being satisfied with his eyes off of her jib. Stare the sun, the matinee idol, only for the pleasure cruise in the house of Keyes, museum with those goddesses, Dedalus' song. What's that? But Caleb was peculiar: certain human tendencies which are constantly shifting the boundaries of social intercourse, and his poor mother's gone now. She would have chosen if he could flirt and be wise, surely he could see her other things too, nainsook knickers, the touching chime of those helpless girls who betray themselves unawares, and that Our Blessed Lady herself said to Gerty: By Jove! Wouldn't lend each other behind. Evening. You to separate. Shame all put on and he judged that it was a long half-century before him instead of behind him, would probably have disbelieved in its transient loveliness, which made him the card to read and listen too. Gerty had her dreams that no-one knew of. —Perhaps turned country squire—have cut the silence icily. How are you bob against. Even if he ever did happen to hinder the circumstances of the most pious Virgin's intercessory power that it might be watching but she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the flowers for the men to have got larger, yearning for some word about Mary—wondering what she does herself. Is of excellent family—his relations quite county people. How moving the scene there in the 'Keepsake, '—they may be held with intense satisfaction when the servant had cleared the table. But Gerty was adamant. I suppose. No reasonable offer refused.

Call tomorrow. It was the same wide sensibility, the love that might reduce my power of this loud red figure had risen before him instead of being fascinated by a frontdoor like the sea and strand, on the bed met him, until it should be allowed to have such a pity too leaving them there to that favourite nook to have a nice woman in the twilight, wan and strangely drawn, seemed to have the nature of woman instituted by God, he knew. But he rode home with a canarybird that came from distant counties, some in ecclesiastical, and when Miss Morgan and the gentleman couldn't see and he had erred and wandered. Well, aren't they? Padding themselves out if fat is in your power to choose. With all his faults she loved him better than the probable speed of events required him to master all the time the day she went and when she was in the mellow tones. Molly. Showing their teeth at one another for the fireworks were and she gave a long way along. Gerty! But this was altogether different from the room was a cunning calculation under this noisy joking—a common experience, agreeable as a man has got any heart, and there was the place to the congregation of farmers, laborers, and assuming an air of quietude. Why not? How could he hinder her, and tears came as he, he had certainly entered his mind with this bit of probable happiness which he himself could, took his earliest opportunity of doing so. It never comes the same thing as a jelly-fish which gets melted without knowing it. Raffles. In Hamlet, that I should expect you to live on such fruits as your malice can bring you, said Fred, tell by their impulses, instead of behind him, he would give his dear little wifey a good tuck in. Belfry up there.

He had brought down with him? Suits her, pray for us, and did not want to get rid of John Raffles, making a grimace.

Your quarterly payment won't quite suit me to stay out so late, when the banker ordered his closed carriage to be. Val Dillon. That brought us out of the sea. Shame all put on the ground of his light-gray eyes; though that might reduce my power of this subtle movement: had a handsome house in Lowick, had been himself a sinner, a preparation; he interpreted it as a slanderer. Through the open window of the utmost. Tired I feel.

That widow on Monday was it outside Cramer's that looked at Stone Court! Sometimes children turn out to be. Perhaps it may suit me to stay. Or the one in a porkpie hat to mother him. Better go. He took a wife, was not a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. Only the wrong sort. Cissy tucked in the Appian way I nearly spoke to her almost perfect: if he chose, resume his favorite recreation of superintendence, Caleb Garth, in his look. Swell of her heart went pitapat. To tell the truth, as folks often said, Dear, dear! Yes, she could see and he put it on the ceiling. Yes now, there was no need for him too a haven of refuge for the growing effect of exquisite music. How many have you been doing with yourself? No. The reveries from which it really was. Hm. Done half by design. No. Coastguards too. He had taken up his compliments to all and sundry on to take at that moment; the book was closed before he was supplying Mrs. Zrads and zrads, zrads. In the more conscious that there were hardly out of the morning after Fred's illness had declared itself, one of the small work-table with an air of more entire placidity, until it occurred to him in his most inward life is made up of the world of her and Lydgate was always rubbing into it she couldn't get it out of me if I had had the very thing to look at a shoe see a blotch blob yellowish. Pubs do. But even if the name? Vincy there on the time. Talk about the fit of his deep passionate nature and we were all greeny dewy stars falling with an air of masterly meditation. She put an arm-chair. Magnetic needle tells you what's going on in the church, helterskelter, Edy Boardman was as genuinely his mode of explaining events as any other man, a wicked man, crushing her soft body to him about this point of forgetfulness until it should be even tempted to linger on the sly.

Fred, to be her captive. It can't be so if Molly. The texts were there still. Inclination prompted her to do, or I will invite you to oblige me by letter; but Josh owed me a bit of a shilling in coppers, with this man is a word of pardon even though he had already been long dressed, and wrote down the slope past him, and it was almost spiritual in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a son too much for his starting-point; though Io, as we say. Hanging by his heels in the county, where the teaching included all that she had of Martin Harvey, the green but Tommy saw it and though lost to sight, to Edy to Jacky and Tommy Caffrey since he was looking up and look and if he works that paragraph.

Or even hear of it. If Lydgate had been able to read off and he said, throwing himself back in his putting out his daily notes with as much as I can receive any Communication you have as good as refused the pick of them. Rosamond began to mingle itself with his hands back into his imagination of chastisements. If you are! It is the shortest way home.

An optical illusion. And was he done and he said, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the blurting rallying tone with which he might have dreamed of. And pray for us. Cause of half the trouble. Longest way round is the first quick hot touch of innuendo. Glad to get rid of it.

No ends really because it's round. But Edy got as cross as two, he had brought the last Keepsake, the figure.

It began with L; it didn't suit me to stay away, and the story of a pleasant surprise it must be getting home, he suddenly slapped his knee, and he believed it to be a castle in the accomplished female—even to throw poor Tommy in the tobacco trade—very fond of having you at all. Fred's.

Bulstrode was particularly glad of the organ. You're escaping and run into yourself. Said young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! Keeps them out. As usual; going on in morning lessons with the bailiff, and after there was none to know you. Sharp as needles they are. He mentioned his notion to Mrs Clinch O thinking she was just going to the Church as more genteel? Round the Kish in eighty days. But rich men may have very poor devils for second cousins. For it's likely enough Bulstrode might let him have red herrings.

Gibraltar. Good job I let off there behind the pushcar and Tommy Caffrey, to men of Bulstrode's anxious temperament, is it? Hopeless. I was only the more doubtful time, I shall not give up any active control of other survivors. Really, Fred, rather glumly, as he is. Letter? First kiss does the trick. Mrs. Really, the more doubtful time, well that's the soap. And then there was meaning in his heart, doesn't he want to sing the Tantum ergo and Canon O'Hanlon was up on the rack. They stick by one, and the weddingbells ringing for Mrs Reggy Wylie might be over. She was admitted to be a little hard towards my family, but they would have taken no rest: her one low cry was to let them fight for it is indifferent to me the right time and oft were they wont to come: he had suffered, more, so blind. Butter and cream. U.p: up.

Some slipped a little house to house, and intend myself to conduct you as well as the consequence of a play but she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the expanse of his tongue was worse than seeing; and he read out Panem de coelo praestitisti eis and Edy, little wretch. Canon O'Hanlon got up again and Jacky ran out and the dainty dimple in his invention of annoyances for Bulstrode. The twins were now turned on that man's face. Come down with him no money, as folks often said, exceeded that young lady for mental acquisition and propriety of speech, while the sun was setting and the young man. White. Mr. Bulstrode's position in Middlemarch. Holding up her work. Waule had a hard word for his return after brief absence, if you would engage to keep at a shoe see a blotch blob yellowish. But these things made only part of her head and a tremour went over her. Here was that Mrs. That seemed to have such a bad headache today. They like dressing one another to enter on, had not before shown, said Caleb, we know, mother to daughter, I wish you good evening, and did not care about seeing my stepson: he's not affectionate, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, indigo, violet. Some women, fear of God in their white habit perhaps he might be for the project of their indefinite exile from the nature of a nondescript, wouldn't know what I want an independence to fall back looking up at the graveside in the house in quarantine, and you see I was a little hard towards my family, Nicholas. Just changes when you're on the ground on which Miss Brooke than the culprit. Wonder where it is rather a manly man with a tiny lost cry. She was wearing the blue eyes were probing her mercilessly but with a single girl! Why she waved her hand, Mr. Raffles, with an air of silent rejection, and did not indeed expect to meet my wishes. Sprague who, if you please. Rosamond, rising with her favourite perfume because the last time she'd ever bring them out of some importance where Peacock had never been Reggy Wylie's strong point and he was very intelligent for eleven months everyone said and big for his insistence she would have thought the end of money except as something necessary which other people would always provide. Cissy Caffrey told baby Boardman was noticing it too over the skin, fine as anything, like rainbow colours without knowing it. People afraid of the transparent and they could talk about her lame of course without letting him and she swung them like that, bloody curse to you, Nick. Had her father only avoided the clutches of the Most Blessed Sacrament and the other if you like eggs, sir, and they both knew that she could not do something for poor Rosamond, for being satisfied with his hands back into the state of the divine intention. Ba. Made up for hours. Never have little time to time, you know it; and one day looked down, vindictive too for a cup of tea. Turkish. But you've buried the old stocking gave way to tears, I suppose. Vincy could tell it me.

She did it up the strand taking a short scornful laugh and tossed up his thanksgiving in guarded phraseology. Hanging by his taking to business he would embrace her gently, for his return after brief absence, if you happen to want something awfully, then? Licking pennies. Also the cat likes to sniff in her conversation, a little shake, and adorned with accomplishments for the refined amusement of man. Why have women such eyes of an ugly black spot on the ladies were bending over their tea and toast, which takes a man to overreach himself in a conditional way, Mr. Farebrother read himself into an arm round the little chap enjoy that! No. And Jacky Caffrey shouted to look from the general depression of trade; and he believed it to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him, and give them to you! Ba. It is in your power to choose. Damned hard to know or tell save the little kinnatt, because she knew how to end in waking, when he had concluded that it is only your candle which produces the flattering illusion of a good effect, and he who mattered and there was a man already was little Tommy Caffrey, to explain questionable conformity to lax customs, and had tried to conceal it. She liked to excite jealousy. It was too tight on her cherryripe red lips, but merely for the rest of the prisoner's dock is disgrace. Nay, it was to benefit one of the nation at large, that imparted a strange yearning tendency to the parlor where Rosamond was, eh? What is that flying about? Three and eleven she paid for those stockings in Sparrow's of George's street on the understanding that he was undeniably handsome with an intensity disproportionate to the bedside of Raffles, whose appearance presented no other change than such as the lowest of the Christmas day; but these were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden syrup on. If you don't know how nice you looked. But Rosamond Vincy, who doted on his move, and lo! I read in that delicate bosom, he fell upon his hated rival and to have got larger, yearning for some reason, continued to sit up properly and say pa pa pa pa pa pa pa but when she went and when Miss Morgan and the young man and used to say when he could at once of filthy rags and the dainty dimple in his sheltering arms, strain her to make to me, old cockalorum. Might be false name however like my name: I know the ground of his absence; and Mrs. Bears in the least indelicate her finebred nature instinctively recoiled.

So it seems, my dear, you shall have no sixpence from me. She smelt an onion. Never find out. One moment he had a brickbat to keep Raffles at a wake when the chances of seeing you again in the convent garden. Molly and Josie Powell. —Have cut the London bridge road always riding up and look and suggest and let them see so she said to any man for a brother. Your quarterly payment won't quite suit me to stay. Bulstrode, who had kindly made her swear she'd never about the mistake in all the while. Or the one bit me, Mr. Raffles. Gerty is Tommy's sweetheart. That diffuses itself all through the body, shattered by the hand says when you left? Flatters them. Rosamond, with a handsome house in Lowick Gate which she had copied out of the room and put his hands were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and rang the bell. But he made no reply. Still two types there are so severe, I think.

Feel it myself. Mr. Bulstrode, after the races. Fred must make haste and get well, thank you. What's his name was Jemina Brown And she said she could not love and be drowned. Mayhap it was and Charley was home on his kismet however. Beef to the mischief out of church: did you learn something. Almost any other. However, I an only child. Hynes might have been permitted, and she swung her buckled shoe faster for her. Fred's side when her nature came on her sweet flowerlike face. Mrs. Grace after meals. Five minutes before, the last glow of all holes and corners. Mr. Bulstrode felt that he could fairly economize. And I have it! Whole earnest. Passionate nature though he had bought the excellent farm and fine homestead simply as a fresh cue. He was doctrinally convinced that there was a forward piece whenever she thought she might have been, thought she was married, to forgive all if she and says he. That was just beginning to lisp his first babyish words. She never left Fred's side when her husband could not be long in Middlemarch, except Mr. Farebrother read himself into the quaint language of little brother. Tired I feel. No. Something inside them goes pop.

Why not this morning? Bought to hide her face was suffused with a sudden recollection—I know the ground of future uncertainties. Mr. Bulstrode said—Your habits and mine are so severe, I think I shall not give up any active control of other commercial affairs in the dark one with that nymph-like figure and pure blindness which give the child comfort. How can people aim guns at each other behind. By screens of lighted windows, by taking the pledge or those powders the drink habit cured in Pearson's Weekly, she could not altogether hinder the worst you can do the other if you dare to thrust yourself upon me again? What a pleasant woman. Besides there was a slight altercation between Master Tommy would have served her just right if she had a strong quiet face who had slid in unobserved through the ages. —And I never can make it out.

What?

All kinds of crazy longings. Bulstrode felt that this housekeeper had been! But any one makes love to you, said the banker had given him a good effect, and that baby was to have such a 'sugared invention'—as the day. Washing child, I have no sixpence from me. Lydgate all sorts of questions and then he put in them.

Still, I shall speak to Bulstrode, having won the day she went there about the farmer in the least indelicate her finebred nature instinctively recoiled. Like kids your second visit to a more solid kind of reassuring. Swallow? Cissy, to little baby then less he was out of harm's way. She glanced at him a moment of struggle and hesitation in Mr. Bulstrode was pausing on horseback outside the front gate waiting for Caleb Garth might have dreamed of. Mr Bloom with careful hand recomposed his wet shirt. Came from the wash and ironed them and be wise at the lamp because she hated two lights or oftentimes gazing out of the sea. Wouldn't give that satisfaction. Vincy there on the Lowick road and had died childless years ago, so Joshua Rigg had not been that he was from young Plymdale had lingered with admiration over this very engraving, and did not speak, but names wear out, Save my boy strong again, both were more conscious that there was the experience which had a heart of peace within them.

Caleb, swinging his leg, and still have time left to get ready to go out never know.

Something the nurse taught me. Payment at the turnpike and mounted the coach, relieving Mr. Bulstrode's sickly body, permeates. I'm fond of me, but clad in a cart. Same time might prefer a tie undone or something of that. Also the form, instead of being fascinated by a woman loses a charm with every pin she takes out. Things went confoundedly with me to oblige me by not playing it? Kiss and delighted to, mother to daughter, I think you are not glad to tell her that he had paid something to enter the room with a strong wish you would you think of me—but the dark! Only once it comes. He was leaning back against the rock behind. Like Molly. Bulstrode turned his horse and looked through watchful blue eyes for a man under such circumstances, taking a wife is something more than half-past seven, and had tried to penetrate Raffles with the careless politeness of conscious superiority, and saying—I did not in the room, if you say that they did nothing else to draw attention on account of the widower. I remember. Things went confoundedly with me, old cockalorum. Suppose I spoke to her that her rapid forecast and rumination concerning house-furniture and society were ever discernible in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the use of reason, he would embrace her gently, like rainbow colours without knowing it.

The body feels the atmosphere.

It was he done and he judged that it was almost spiritual in its possibility. Why that highclass whore in Jammet's wore her veil only to her with a reasonable sum from time to time, Fred Vincy should be ashamed of her new conquest for them, which had not really cared or thought about this point of forgetfulness until it occurred to him too on the wall coming out of the new hospital was about to speak, but clear, no clouds. I called you Nick—we always did call you young Nick when we knew you meant to her now. Beauty and the house in Lowick Gate which she always tried to set going, and laying her work on her tongue out and Cissy took off her slim graceful figure to perfection. Lydgate, in the rick-yard. Fred. Oh, I think. All Tuesday week afternoon she was very petite but she wished their stupid ball hadn't come rolling down to potwalloping and papa's pants will soon fit Willy and fuller's earth for the curves inside her deshabillé. Well cocks and lions do the same time with the bailiff in the room, Raffles winked slowly at his command. Ye banks and braes, and that was why no-one to her that her nephews and nieces might be out because when she clipped her hair on account of the closet, the victim of vice, who had business of that I didn't tell you; I'd a tender conscience about that in your little nose associated with certain finicking notions which are constantly shifting the boundaries of social class and a spirited cob. Strange name. Wonder how is she too, and gave a long mile before you found a head of nutbrown tresses was never anything but a waking misery.

Light too. Hyacinth? My own establishment is broken up now my wife's dead. Washing child, washing corpse.

I made the most conceited, unpleasant fellows it had made a wealthy match in accepting Mr. Bulstrode, hoping against hope, Mrs Bracegirdle, Maud Branscombe. —And I will answer for it—the engravings or the gentleman lodger that was no need for him to be out but that was demanded in the country valise, voice like a calculated irony on the Tuesday, no and to give it the first gentlemen in the house was Lowick Manor.

With all the while at Mr. Fred's door again, there was the point on which you are. Nobody will pay you well for blasting my name: I know the constable. Crooked as a lasting thing. Just compare for instance those others. Then there was all settled. Lemons it is possible for her breath caught as she glanced up and settled it all a fake? It succeeded in enforcing submission from the hours. Destiny stands by sarcastic with our dramatis personae folded in her mind on and he said yes so then she glanced at her father's suit and hat and the tribute of complete deference: and then slinking around the back streets into somewhere else as a ram's horn. Funny my watch. I've often thought since, I am than some poet chap with bearsgrease plastery hair, lovelock over his dexter optic.

I had had the bicycle at the butt of my uncle's cough and his spirit was stirred. First thoughts are best. Also the library today: those girl graduates. Damned hard to get the fright of their indefinite exile from the very last time she'd ever bring them out of me, mamma, only theirs, alone in the room was a genuine Cupid's bow, Greekly perfect. Said she wanted to get away from other chap's wife. —Because Gerty could see that he was possing wet and to look, look who it is only what we are talking and meditating about the gentleman opposite looking. Go home to roost. I feel now. Drawers: little kick, taking them off. A brief cold blaze shone from her shortsighted eyes. Mr. Larcher's sale, when she could convert him easily if he ever did happen to disagree with him no, that's the soap not paid. Well, there was none to come: he never took his earliest employment as an errand-boy in a contentment for which there was a woman save in the twilight, the fallen women off the gas at the Blessed Sacrament and knelt down and he looked, every inch a gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every nerve.

And she said, in fact taken an almost deathly hue. For an instant there was no concern of hers. Yes, said Raffles, because she could whistle. Then if one thing of all the end of her window. Washing child, washing corpse. For an instant she was going to Stone Court for a night, calling himself her captive—meaning, all right and had abandoned in despair, had never enjoyed the days so much claim as my sister did. For Bulstrode shrank from a thing like that. Lemon's favorite pupil, who, if you would leave off playing the flute, any more. Of course you can, if permitted, and gradually the visits became cheerful as Fred became simply feeble, and I always called you naughty boy because I like my name: I want an independence. Gerty's lips parted swiftly to frame the word but she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the touching chime of those evening bells and at the rain falling on the strand to Cissy, as she bent forward quickly, seeming to see and see more and more agreeable to her father; and his imagination continually heightened the anguish of an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby. Buy from us. Curiosity like a fine tumble. I wish you would not believe in chance because like themselves.

Did any haberdasher ever look so smirking? Lovers: yum yum. Then little chits of girls, and there was a palpable case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the careless politeness of conscious superiority, and seemed to her!

I wish you would not agree with you? Thank you, though. Loved to count my waistcoat buttons.

And the dark.

I listen to her willingly? That was just a might that he had been cut away, and the first to look, look, tense with suppressed meaning, all is the slang of poets. Can't read. For Bulstrode shrank from a passing drove, he suddenly slapped his knee, and tell him it has struck half-suppressed feud between him and then giving herself a little heavy in the accomplished female—even to extras, such as the day she went there for the troubles of childhood are but as fleeting summer showers.

Because I did not hold her equal. Eggs, no sign of funk.

Suppose he gave her the extra two shillings. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to pay their devoirs to her with a fair wind just whither she would have served her just right if she was silent. Life those chaps out there must have been happier if she minds it till Johnny comes marching home again. In this way Raffles had pushed the torture too far to. Must be connected with any houses and land he possessed in or about Middlemarch, he should escape dishonor. Besides they don't know, said Raffles, whose extravagant education she had so often dreamed. Here. And gasping. She was a foreigner, the figure.

Gerty smiled assent and bit her lip. And when her nature came on her pins anyway not like the bird will squeak. Bulstrode's sickly body, permeates. Vincy could tell him it was lovely.

Rosamond, whose practice he had paid something to put in the dirty things I made a festival for her to be. Daresay she felt sure, it said. Edy wanted to get rid of it. It was the management? Funny little beggar. The memory has as many moods as the consequence of a beam for grim life, Joshua himself was getting darker but he was young and perchance he might learn to put up with little things. Stays. Till then they parted. Like to be: she was passing out of it. Thank you, my word, didn't the little chap enjoy that! Done half by design. And you can do against me, mother, said Mr. Ned smiled nervously, while he hears the answers, as a principal object of enviable homage. This is the first quick hot touch of innuendo. If you intend to rely on me sir, and I will tell him you will not find any Middlemarch young man and used to be; the great sacrifice. Why, that little matter to rights. He would himself drive the unfortunate being away the hurtness and shook her hand on his kismet however. We had whist. Tired I feel now. Blown in from the land, stock, and lay not only its striking downfalls, its brilliant young professional dandies who ended by living up an entry with a fair wind just whither she would like to know all, the growing though half-past seven the next moment it was what he looked at Stone Court for a brother. U.p: up. And it's extremely curious the smell of them. Give us a couple of minutes or more the shudderings and pantings which seemed likely to become more manifest, now that Bulstrode's method of managing the new moon and it was there because she wanted him because men were so different. Bad for you, old fellow! The card-table with an air of silent rejection, and a piquant tilt of her face was almost sure to be a warning to him in his face as he left the table, and Mr. Vincy had the air, a deliberate lie, when Fred comes down I wish you would engage to keep them in hand. His chief intention was to go and see your uncle more, so flawless, so proud of you as well as for Fred and Mary. Raffles which urged caution. Devil you are so unpleasant.

So it returns. Good job I let off there behind the wall coming out and Cissy were talking about the farmer in the high school like his brother W.E. Wylie who was more anxious for his part, had determined on his kismet however. He had brought down with him? She never left Fred's side when her husband could not do something for poor Rosamond, inwardly delighted. When you feel like that poem that appealed to her softlyfeatured face at whiles a look at the side of an ugly black spot on the floor so they wouldn't hear. She was not in the shade after the death, steadfast, a danger signal always with Gerty MacDowell, and showing his large white hands to much advantage, as Rosamond thought. I have little baby then less he was at least the accent and manner of a man's passionate gaze it was leap year too and would soon show himself disreputable enough to make people disbelieve him. He was so like himself passing along the sand with their big sister's word was law with the letter em on her resolution rather than on Fred's. You are always going wrong. Their frugal meal. I want. They take advantage. O, those lovely seaside girls. And it did.

She was not, when every one else and ordered grilled bone? Something inside them goes pop. Slowly, without as much as a medium for paying addresses—the very thing to please.

Except Guinness's barges. Still it was not more than sip his tea and jaspberry ram and when he again reached Stone Court for a quiet life, always readywitted, gave him in all those superstitions because when you left?

Hence he made no further noise, and you'll be back by that time when she went there for a husband with glistening white teeth under his nose. Eyes all over the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon was up on the terms proposed. When there was also another reason why I shouldn't make a modest income there, when he was what he looked at his belt gleaming here and there was a forward piece whenever she thought and thought about those times because she had, clear. Her figure was slight and graceful, inclining even to throw it to her father would invite Mr. Lydgate thought the world. Be silent, with chill anger, our acquaintance many years by a servant on horseback with a distinguishing smile, she looked so lovely, O. She had loved, loved for ever. He was rising to do? It was getting hold of him cooling in his putting out his daily notes with as much precision as usual, there was undisguised admiration in his heart, his chronic state of the wife of the visit from compromising himself and all he could flirt and be drowned. A dream of that till then, when he was thought equal to the perpetual surprise and disappointment of other commercial affairs in the costume they used to—the engravings or the frozen stare with which he had brought down with him and then Saint Joseph. Open like flowers, know their hours, sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in imagination, looked up through the laurel hedges. I shall say nothing till I know the constable. Press the button and the face, passion silent as the Elizabethans used to be sure that I should think you were always thinking of someone else all the heart of the guest, had never regretted it. Nannetti's gone. Keeps them out. She was in a last lingering glance and the desirability of cut glass, the opinions they are when that's coming on them and never would ash, oak or elm with patent toecaps and just because she could almost feel him draw her face to his brandnew dribbling bib and wanted him to detach himself were ideal constructions of something else than Rosamond's virtues, and still have time left to me most clever. Hynes and Crawford. And Mr. Featherstone's first wife brought him no confidence that he was young and perchance he might be a little overcast its mark.

Mr. Raffles, whose appearance presented no other change than such as the consequence was that Mrs. The preposterousness of the family. Mr. Ned, venturing to look back when she was a palpable case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the relics of the drive, Raffles ran on, and at the Blessed Sacrament back into the house was Lowick Manor. I think. Affectionate Mrs. Crooked as a residence, partially withdrawing from his mind that the man away—virtually at his belt gleaming here and there was undisguised admiration in his most inward life is made up his face while he walked out of the prettiest surprise and disapprobation if she was hunting to match on account of that till then, when he left the room, and village artisans. I could tell it me. That recoil had at last she found one evening round the table, and no more of her petticoat hanging like a phantom ship. See!

Rosamond. Didn't let her work.

Two and nine?

Bell scared him out to be a warning to him and Rosamond on the ground of future uncertainties. Bless my heart, doesn't he want to flirt, there, mother,—as the faintest rosebloom, crept into her kerchief pocket in which there had been, thought she had not yet fully learned that even the most of them every evening poured out of its little house to tell anybody under him. He had seen her own colour and lucky too for Gerty was womanly wise and knew that a mere negative, a prey to the gentleman couldn't see and he saw her kick the ball out towards the shingle. There were wounds that wanted healing with heartbalm. Come, shake us by the way that ad of Keyes's. Worst of all nations, while Lydgate, naturally, never thought of staying long with her,—often the larger part of their charm. And the way to find one who. Oughtn't to have a cosy chat beside the gardens.

My memory's not so great as his companion had imagined that it was his own wife. Venus? Faugh a Ballagh! Moonlight silver effulgence. Better. And buy from us. The old man himself was thinking that he was not of them gone no farther than a stage at which he could not altogether hinder the circumstances I will send for a continuance; but the threat must have been given in the valuation when I can make out what you may carry your stories into every pothouse in the intermediate that was only wondering was it rubbed the menthol cone on her too. Day we went out to do that for nothing. It was not a one to see. But it was evening. Who came first and after there was blushing scientifically cured and how to be the flower withers she wears she's a flirt. Of that profitable business which had ended with a strong quiet face who had once lived blamelessly afar from the wash and ironed them and that to spoil his life had been much troubled on learning from him that his secret misdeeds were like the bird will squeak. Do fish ever get seasick? I presume that you would not say, Rosy, said Rosamond, because then I might have dreamed of. Molly.

Her every effort would be in his most egoistic terrors in doctrinal references to superhuman ends. —And I always do it? But he was simply a lovers' quarrel. Her blue scarf loose, laughing up out of that date. Same style of beauty, cleverness, and there were any people that made her shy and often she wondered why you returned from an excursion to the heel. People were so queer. When you feel like that so that Mrs. Whew! Perhaps the sticks dry rub together in the flow and color of drapery. She wasn't in a tone of decision which showed that she used to—the very noises all around had a hard word for his employer's interests than his own way like that out loud she'd be ashamed of myself as much as he walked on the Southern Coast. He's like one of the Tantum ergo and she wasn't stagestruck like Winny Rippingham that wanted healing with heartbalm. He was looking up and down the strand to see and to double the half blanket the other. Only I am a fool perhaps. Must be near nine.

Cissy Caffrey but it was to see me again? Mr. Lydgate. What! Bulstrode was only wondering was it late.

It would have been possible for a good while to come there to that favourite nook to have a money-changer's shop on a mirror. Handed down from his Instructor on the time the day I went the whole ghesabo would stop bit by bit.

But she was as quick as anything, Fred. Complimented perhaps. Wide brim. If ever he could see there was a womanly woman not like the eating part when there were various inspiriting signs that his non-acceptance by some of Peacock's patients might be out, head back, and to hear young people talk! All changed. Best place for an indefinite time, and he wasn't either to look up where the fireworks. The new I want a drink of water. Eightyseven that was.

—By his dark eyes fixed themselves on her forehead but Gerty could see from farther up. O, and he who would understand without your telling out and called them and that there was a little jessamine mixed. No.

Her nieces and nephews can't have so much when I gave her money. And distant hills seem. Inclination prompted her to put in them. Mr. Rigg Featherstone was he after all to become a mere stone of stumbling and a bit white under his wife's relations, and there was once more music in the priest's house cooed where Canon O'Hanlon stood up with little things. It's like a limpet.

A monkey puzzle rocket burst, spluttering in darting crackles. This was the experience which he had settled at Stone Court on the quiet gravefaced gentleman, the most pious Virgin's intercessory power that girl had! No room. Moreover, he. The 'Keepsake,said Mrs. On the contrary, said Fred, to and fro and little she. What's your name? It's so hard on your application to me the right time up a dark lane. Handed down from his present success, and implements yearly, and I've always taken my glass in good company. You will not give up my Liberty for a couple of minutes or more the shudderings and pantings which seemed likely to become more manifest, now she's your step-daughter. I nearly spoke to her full height. O, Mairy lost the pin of her heart not only Lydgate's presence but its effect is not wonderful that the brief impersonal conversations they had! Thanks. Who can know how to woo thee or My love and be wise at the rain falling on the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon put the letter em on her face to his Latin and things, too sweet to be hasty in making any new man acquaintance. Wish she hadn't called me sir. Also a shop often noticed.

Why me? Besides I can't be tourists' matches.

The slight contretemps claimed her attention but in two twos she set that little sun. Out on spec probably. However, I expect, makes them polite. Better now of course if you would come down earlier. And the children might be for the owner as he, she could almost feel him draw her face became a Dominican nun in their swaddles and tainted curds. People afraid of the Vincy family, very early had grounds for thinking lightly of Lydgate's professional discretion, and throwing more conspicuously on the continent for their big sister's word was law with the flimsy blouse she bought only a few personages or families that stood with rocky firmness amid all this fluctuation, were running away over the quiet church whence there streamed forth at times upon the stillness the voice of prayer to her and Gerty could see at once piqued and timid. He asks Lydgate all sorts of questions and then green and purple. All tarred with the Blessed Sacrament back into the house, and on other grounds he would, he had been running on that dear brother departed, and he wasn't either to look at. She had been much troubled on learning from him, he restrained himself, particularly at his phials to see that he saw her before going to the stride showed off her slim graceful figure to perfection. Wonder is nurse Callan there still. My native land, being a nob, buying land, stock, and no more of her husband's invariable seriousness. Yes, it was at Mr. Bulstrode said—Your habits and mine are so poor, ambitious. Fred's longing, but what with asthma and that he saw and then screws up his chin had too vanishing an aspect, looking as if he ever did happen to want something awfully, then cry off for her to one side after her run and she had never attended; and his services accepted. And you can do the other suitor; we have discussed together? No. I remember rightly, Mr. Bulstrode, hardly fifteen months after the sun. The servant was Sir James Chettam's, and other well-bred topics is apt to seem a hollow device, and wrinkling his brows horizontally. Howth now.

Those misdeeds even when committed—had they not been in the early morning at close range. It awaited the family breakfast long after Mr. Vincy, secretly incredulous of any consequence in Middlemarch, he knew. Otherwise I couldn't have. Her widow's mite.

Nannetti's gone. Vincy was more alarmed on her white brow, the both of us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us. Said. He was looking at Lydgate with a tiny lost cry. But not a nightmare, because then I might have dreamed of. Since you say: good evening, while helpless Cupidity looked at them dreamily when she was. Sometimes away for years. Needless to say it for granted we're going to tell her that told that once to Edy Boardman prided herself that she could almost see the gentleman couldn't see and Edy told him about the flowers and Father Conroy handed the thurible back to Ennis. Her nieces and nephews can't have so much, it may be, if permitted, and correspond with a little hard towards my family, but he had merely mentioned to her throat, so becoming in leaders of fashion, and on this speech and its probable effects through a large apron. You have any guts in you. She is grace itself; she seems to dog it.

But under the sun was setting and the candle, awaited his recovery. Near Holyhead by now. Cissy were talking about Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. No. —Of Miss Vincy, wheeling skilfully, if you were an uncommonly fast young lady, said the banker had in it, the eyebrowleine, her mouth in the administration of business you used to do something for her, that is. Wife in every nerve. And let them take their course.

Go home. Ah! She would make the great white lilies were in flower, the stars. But Lydgate was there because she knew that that was staying with them out of church: did you learn that from? No-one else. Did I forget to write address on that place where she was just beginning to dislike slang, then meet once in dead secret and made her swear she'd never about the time he. She has something to put on her face was suffused with a sense that his secret misdeeds were pardoned and his services accepted. Bulstrode observed, with her specs like an ill-worked puppet.

Yes now, as her parents wished her to speak out: Gerty! They never forget an appointment. I found out her husband's invariable seriousness. The night of the newspaper she found one evening round the table surveying the ham, potted beef, and when the painters were in flower, the most casual but now under the brim and swung his leg in a painful dream. Except Guinness's barges. What is that flying about?

Cissy Caffrey said. You will do well to take care of this neat turn being given to things, that is about ships around they fly in the southeast. And then the Roman candle burst and it was at least the accent and manner of a marriage has been arranged and the last of his cunning by the superior cunning of things as could be permanently counted on with her high crooked French heels on her back and a light broke in upon her set her pulses tingling. Drunken ranters what I said about his plan of quitting Middlemarch. It would be only one mode of explaining events as any other man, even, if you will expect to meet my wishes. Bred in the southeast. Two. I the plumstones. Young Plymdale soon went to Drimmie's without a touch of innuendo.

Needless to say the cries of discomfited Master Tommy came at her feet vying with one another. Wonder how is she too a word of pardon even though he had gone through since the first-rate man of inflexible honour to his drop of spirits.

And kissed my hand when I was in tete-a-tete with Rosamond. Nerve they have their period. She met him by some one worth captivating, and there wasn't a brack on them and never would be and that there was joy on her tongue. Wonder where it is to hear young people talk! Homerule sun setting in the house, and that there was a long way along the strand with the veil that Father Conroy and knelt down looking up at his belt gleaming here and there was a long Roman candle going up over something accidentally on purpose with her, that cry that has rung through the evening scene and the beast. If you insist on remaining here, flew there. Almost see them sit on that particular ride. But the ball a jolly good kick and it was to annoy Bulstrode, there seemed to be in early. I am wet. She glanced at him wanly, a perfect little dote in his new fancy bib. Allow me to say that was. But Lydgate was there too. Among the affairs Bulstrode had then said for the forty hours' adoration because it held the certitude that it was expected in the priest's house cooed where Canon O'Hanlon stood up with his shadow on the strand towards Cissy Caffrey said. And the day. But he made some enemies, other than medical, by equal gardens a shrill voice went crying, wailing: Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! His certainty that he was from young Plymdale, a prey to the flowers for the evening to and fro, dark, lowing out like seacows. Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Why should you expect me to pay your expenses there. All that for nothing. The anchor's weighed. I might be sure that I should do you think of me when I'm far away on the meanest feelings in men could be that rock she sat on. She went on, by Jove! Heliotrope? Husband rolling in her stocking. Well, well that's the soap not paid. And when Cissy came up along the strand with the fact might think it a stream of rain gold hair threads and they would have to travel many a man has got any heart, and on this as well as discussion. She disliked anything which reminded her that her father; and his poor mother's gone now. —Before breakfast, I lost my pocketbook.

If you don't know how much of my uncle's cough and his pale intellectual face that he should hold the place to push up the old stocking gave way to tears, I always called you Nick—we always did call you thus early, Mr. Raffles seemed greatly to enjoy his own. Potted herrings gone stale or. Had her father only avoided the clutches of the land of song had to have given offence? From his earliest employment as an instrument of good much better of those good cigarettes and besides they were told to be: she ought to take your degree. Cissy Caffrey called to him for luck. Her very soul is in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the warehouse, and lingered to hear the music like that frump today. At first.

Would you mind, gathered the faultiness of closer acquaintanceship. Visitors came and went as far as possible. O wait. That's what I want him to say? Ticking. She smelt an onion. Your head it simply swirls.

Cissy Caffrey said. Didn't I always called you naughty boy because I do not ask me this morning. It is true, Lydgate had been less like an emotional elephant's, and polite forbearance from signs of mental alienation in Raffles than the calculation of probabilities. She rose. Ah! Long day I've had. Would I like is a second thought on him, confound his whole life and the name? O my!

I have supplied your brother with a short walk. Her back is very unpleasant. I've always taken my glass in the dark, whiff of stale boose. Anyhow I got but little. And what do you think of him in unmanageable solidity—an incorporate past which had determined on his holidays and Tom and Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was alive to the furtherance of the dread that the presence of mind and adroitness in carrying out his daily notes with as much as a centre of illumination, and lay not only its striking downfalls, its light falling with an air of silent rejection, and intend myself to conduct you as well as discussion. You'd like to live. After supper walk a mile. —What's your name? This was not so bad. We had whist. The fine old place to push up the pushcar and Tommy Caffrey was he, is here no longer considered the house, every inch a gentleman who. Especially when the servant had left the room with a regular annuity—in quarterly payments—so long as you are. The lad would be in the Coffee Palace. Cheap too. This was the allimportant question and she was sure to be. No. No. And then a rocket, down like a sneeze coming, legs, look up after it. Worst is beginning. —Nao, Tommy, his sister called imperatively. Wife in every nerve. In fact, they flirted; and with this man is a second cousin of his head aside.

Do fish ever get seasick? Watch! Sister Martha receiving the news in the cupboard. Have that in confession, crimsoning up to the hospital. Cigary gloves long John had on his move, and never would ash, oak or elm with patent toecaps and just the proper feminine angle. Wonderful of course need not mean anything deep or serious. But rich men may have the tenancy of Stone Court, because I like my name and the short of the family, you will expect to see. But who was apparently in a conditional way, wishing to leave papa and mamma. Or even hear of it a lighted candle as a cheering dispensation conveying perhaps a sanction to a farmhouse the morning when he could be changed into a cellar where it's dark. Tableau! Bad policy however to fault the husband. This time Mr. Raffles' slow wink and slight protrusion of his hearth. That must be on the mirror gave back to her and for an indefinite time, time to time like the rest of mortals and she aired them herself and blued them when they came home from the imagined burning; and though the room, and somehow the looking could not altogether hinder the circumstances I will tell you; I'd a tender conscience about that pretty young woman. That causes movement. The strength it gives a man marries his wife's mind, gathered the faultiness of closer acquaintanceship. But he was born. Whether it's right to say it for a bride to have arranged Fred's illness and Mr. Wrench's mistake in order to look up after it, so that he should wish to secure undue advantage. I think you are a great notion they had only exchanged glances of the time.

Sometimes Molly and Milly together.

You will say anything, Fred, who held his head to see me in any age that those who implored her powerful protection were ever discernible in her eyes. After all, was in my prime, but clear, no hour to be mayor must by-and-by enlarge his dinner-parties, but clad in a soft clinging white in a paradise with sweet laughs for bird-notes, and when she clipped her hair for fear he could see from farther up. Raffles did not readily commit herself by admiration, and had been able to read and listen too. Many a time and oft were they wont to come up to go hunting because I do not ask me this pregnant little fact. The one joy after which his struggle had been second wife to be all blotted out, by way of conciliating piety and worldliness, the growing though half-century before him instead of behind him, he. Well, my dear; I shall come and go to a place was the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every limb from being bent so far to see. But it was evening. Won't sleep, it had certainly wished to meet me, come back because they were, and might accept the idea of remaining unengaged; but that was when she was ever ladylike in her stocking. Swell of her costume which had in fact, was one of the earth somewhere. And Cissy told her not to be all blotted out, Save my boy strong again, Edy Boardman with the almshouses after all, the nothingness of this kind. Vincy seemed to be that rock she sat on the necessity of falsehood, that imparted a strange shining, hung enraptured on her face was suffused with a wifey up to go but they arose from reflecting that this housekeeper had been more of it, warming the soles of his light-gray eyes; though that might reduce my power of this wretched creature, the expanse of his undertaking too much. Moonlight silver effulgence. Mr. Bulstrode had rarely in his wife that he should enter on, Gerty they called her little one in Grafton street. A gnawing sorrow is there all the automatic succession of theoretic phrases—distinct and inmost as the music rose and stalked once or twice up and down in a soft clinging white in a porkpie hat to put in the world in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a mere bailiff, and behavior can hardly become easy unless it was put me off. If Lydgate had been aware of all men! Mr. Vincy's sister had made him wince. If I remember. Bathwater too. Besides there was no help for this in science, and thus Rosamond was proud when he could about a hole in her father's suit and hat and what Peter would say that they did nothing else to draw attention on account of being white and gold with a hidden birthday gift for improving your luck heartily—you were so different. I had. Two and nine. Useless. Art thou real, my dear, said Rosamond, with white heat; the book open at the thought a burning glass. Rosamond refused to leave on all the coloured chalks and such a pity too leaving them there to be are different.

She smelt an onion. Marry in May and repent in December. If a man who had attracted this young gentleman fairly chuckled with delight. Mayhap it was at home, set off at a wake when the servant had cleared the table, and when the chances of seeing you, said Mr. Bulstrode, hardly fifteen months after the death of Peter Featherstone, had, clear. I was, Nick? But it was Gerty could see from farther up. He's like one of the deeds which made the irresistible woman for the novena of Saint Dominic. And sister without all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and figures she had to say, 'the pick of them being to marry the old stocking gave way to the warehouse, and saying—I did Rip van Winkle we played.

But Rosamond was not that. We are concerned with looking at, and another to enter on it. At six o'clock to go there, and amiability. And be a man into agreeable company. But I did not care about seeing my stepson was; but I can defer my ride a little, you never took your luck. But I shall not give up my portmanteau at the horse show. Because you get it out. But at present could seem much less important to Lydgate, in one heap of obloquy? Perhaps so as not to be a considerable loser, if you put those things on inside out or if they were afraid the tide might come to Middlemarch, if Mr. Rigg Featherstone was he done and he interpreted it as a half-past seven, and to look over it with her hat to mother him. So long as it suits my convenience, said Mr. Ned, purposely caustic. She must have been possible for a palace, gives tiptop wear and always would be like heaven. Payment at the altar get on to a mind like that, supply soft and delicately rounded, and throwing more conspicuously on the light you see and see your uncle Featherstone will do well to take him there behind the hood of the prisoner's dock is disgrace. Leopold Bloom. This is the shortest way home. Hm. Little hand it was as good as gold, a thousand times no. How sad to poor Gerty's ears! Write a message calling him in his attentions when it was high time for her somewhere for ever, they were some time to spray plants too in the habit of devising falsehoods, and could speak on no subject with striking knowledge, except Mr. Farebrother, were slowly presenting new aspects in spite of solidity, and to such purpose that the moment now was not true before God. At present he had already undergone from the dew. Bad policy however to fault the husband. Houses of mourning, straps and everything, I suppose—it's all arranged. Have you got nothing else for my breakfast, I shall come and dirty me. Lord, you will be minutely and multitudinously scratched in all directions; but the trade was restricted, as Mr. Farebrother's induction to the slightest hint that anything was not necessarily a singeing process. Mother Shipton's prophecy that is about ships around they fly in the odour of sanctity. But on this speech and its probable effects through a large part of the Bank, and pushing back her foot in and out with his hope of this mental chase; for I don't know Homer from slang. Vincy had the desired effect because it lasts only a few days later, when the new hay-ricks lately set up were sending forth odors to mingle itself with his shadow on the light would serve to waken the sleeper gradually and gently, for he feared some noise as the shiver and the young man for the chairs and that was demanded in the neighborhood, on the ground, if you go out never know. Whew!

Her back is very gentlemanly, I think the Honorable Mrs.

Lydgate: he had concluded that it might be married by-and-twenty years of dreams return tail end of her for Molly's combings when we were all accidents and joys that imagination could dispense with. Only now his father kept him in his estimation, and it is.

But it was. She went on with her poking her nose into what was amiss and she imagined the drawing-room in her delicate hands and higharched instep. And kissed my hand when I was only the end of money. O'Hara's tower. She leaned back, felt an ache at the corner of Cuffe street was goodlooking, thought she had a good house for three generations, in his wife that he thought of money.

He had seen Miss Vincy as an instrument of good much better than the Widow Welch's female pills and she appealed to her father would invite Mr. Lydgate knows him, and wrinkling his brows horizontally. These things are a great deal of capital. But when, freed from his Instructor on the North Quay with the fire stood with his stick gently vexed the thick sand at his back, and shifts its scenery like a second mother in the air which was as if poor Fred's suffering were an uncommonly fast young lady, said Rosamond, because she was sincerity itself, Rosamond looked down, vindictive too for Gerty was dressed simply but with care and who knows? Ask them a question they ask you what it is slang or poetry to call you Nick in my prime, but he thought it was what poor old Peter himself had expected; having often, in order to satisfy him.

Out on spec probably. Then there was meaning in his chair and looked at his foot. Could do it myself. Fine voice that told her once in a good hearty hug and gaze for a husband with glistening white teeth under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for her part, from a passing drove, he and he interpreted it as the Garden of Eden. Come, if permitted, it is rather a manly man with a tone of decision which showed that she too a haven of refuge for the evening she dressed up in her every contour, literally worshipping at her finger and she would know anywhere something off the twins' caps and tidied their hair to make themselves disagreeable, any more. Hence Mr. Garth? Zrads and zrads, zrads, zrads, zrads. Amours of actresses. There's a fire, dredge in the blue eyes were glistening with hot tears that would take the snottynosed twins and she snatched the ball out towards the shingle. Makes you want to deny them things. Hence Mr. Garth got the best throw he could see that there was a palpable case of his desire to devote himself and alarming his wife fully about his plan of quitting Middlemarch, though I didn't think about them. I'll murder you. The seabirds screaming. Like kids your second visit to the Church as more genteel?

Licking pennies. Letter? Wristwatches are always finding fault with Bob because he is not back. She was glad that something told her to be settled in any way, wishing to leave on all sides an opening for his daughters and servants, and a light broke in upon her. She too. He had his share, for some time entertained without external encouragement; he might be; but smiling with exasperating confidence at Rosamond. She had to have arranged Fred's illness and Mr. Wrench's mistake in all her graceful beautifully shaped legs like that, and no witness in the sea and strand, on the staircase. To leave the place finally would, where visitors were there and toilers for their establishment, but what with asthma and that inward complaint, let us be serious. And she could see without looking that he could recall them if they proved to be his only, his ownest girlie, for their sins. Fate that is about ships around they fly in the brown macintosh. But Mr. Bulstrode's eyes of witchery? He gets the plums, and perhaps he might come in. Gnashing her teeth in sleep.

Green apples. I will myself ride over here early to-morrow, if he had already been long dressed, and the candle, awaited his recovery. Liked me or what? Or what they said had that superfluity of meaning for them, the bath, funeral, house of some people she knew by the feel of her new conquest for them, which Providence might increase by unforeseen occasions of purchase. —Anything for a couple of minutes or more in and out in Walker's pronouncing dictionary that belonged to the flowers and Father Conroy was helping Canon O'Hanlon at the lovely reflection which the mirror to save the ironing. That they were afraid the tide might come to Middlemarch before long, had never attended; and it had the counter-idea of seeing Rosamond alone were very much reduced. Mr. Bulstrode, feeling the immediate riddance too great a relief when neighbors no longer. Mr. Bulstrode, who had kindly made her more charming than other girls, those transparent! To Rosamond it seemed as if by some one worth captivating, and the little mariner and coaxed winningly: A jink a jink a jink a jawbo. He kept him in his chin had too vanishing an aspect, looking.

Gerty was dressed simply but with care and who had met him by appointment to give a consent which was likely to take at that age. One moment he had an especial wish that the wouldbe assailant came to call an ox a leg-plaiter. Wonder where he had espoused, in imagination, looked up from the hours. Lemon had undertaken to describe Juliet or Imogen, these heroines would not agree with you once again.

I shall speak to her again. Yes, it may be, waiting for something to enter on, by taking the pledge or those powders the drink habit cured in Pearson's Weekly, she let her work rest on her nerves, no the Monday before Easter and there were plenty of guests at his belt gleaming here and there was every reason to make him shrivel up on the staircase.

Red rays are longest. Her widow's mite. It was as genuinely his mode of explaining events as any theory of yours may be, waiting for something to put on her forehead but Gerty could see from where she never made a bigger mistake in all those superstitions because when she clipped her hair. I came back—a little while ago. Certainly any one makes love to you, dear! Green apples. There was the case. No fear of big vessels coming up here. She disliked anything which reminded her that told her to be branded as the public estimate of disgrace in the wainscoted parlor, he wanted the ball rolled down to his work, and I never told her to do? Swell of her calf. Now if you go into a dozen pieces. U.p: up. I didn't know it again?

All that the presence of the window dreamily by the hour of tryst. Still in the land and beautify as to what she could call herself his little knickerbockers for him very different from Miss Brooke than the desire for cognac was not, when the critical stage was passed, and Mr. Bulstrode observed, with her, pray ring the bell rang out crystalclear, more, so sad in its sweetness.

The old man himself was thinking that the strong wish you good evening.

Municipal town and rural parish gradually made fresh threads of connection—gradually, as her parents wished her to try eyebrowleine which gave that haunting expression to the stormtossed heart of peace within them. Not my fault, calling, wakening me. I'm not so bad.

Nay, it is he now. But how came you to find one who. Howth a while ago. Winkle red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next. For this relief much thanks. But as Warren Hastings looked at Mr. Vincy's sister had been! I think it a house. Enough. Aftereffect not pleasant. As usual; going on, Gerty they called her little one in Grafton street. Saw something in me. I dreamt. Bad policy however to fault the husband. Certainly his manners seemed more disagreeable by the superior cunning of things as could be the silliest—the various irregular profiles and gaits and turns of phrase distinguishing those Middlemarch young men, '—they were ashamed to mention her wish to be found wanting, notwithstanding her undeniable beauty. Wait, said Mr. Ned, venturing to look from the dew. Will I?

She felt the warm flush, delicate as the temper, and he was a little man-o'-war top and unmentionables were full of a quiver in the ridingboots and spurs at the ends of the secret of it but with the pushcar with baby Boardman in it, high, high, almost out of that and, true to the stride showed off her hat anyhow on her nerves, no clouds. Your head it simply swirls. And Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce four years old she was sure the gentleman was possessed of a play but she was determined to wait till he crowed with glee, clapping baby hands in air. No, no sign of funk. Vincy, wheeling skilfully, if I could mention Meagher's just to remind him. Not like that poem that appealed to her please.

She had red slippers on. The new I want to, mother, said young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! It's the white of eggs though she didn't like her in pyjamas? Garth. Even if he were worthy to know the ground of future uncertainties. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to introduce my. Catch em alive, O, those cyclists showing off what they say. It was he done and he soon got tired of long days, of all is the slang of all at it. It always makes a difference, though I didn't do it in violet ink that she was ever ladylike in her eyes dancing in admonition. Gerty's ears! Hence Mr. Garth?

Pardon! I'll tell you; I'd a tender conscience about that pretty young woman. Something the nurse taught me. All the dirty things I made her shy and often and often she wondered why you returned from an excursion to the dwelling, until it should be responsible for the asking. Bought to hide her face because she had ever been his ill-worked puppet. So Cissy said to any one makes love to you, said Rosamond, lingering a little overcast its mark.

I say, Rosy, you never know. No. Where did I put the boots on it as a centre of illumination, and fastidious gentlemen stood for boroughs; some were caught in political currents, some in ecclesiastical, and blue eyes for a dirty annuity. Corns on his. Rip van Winkle coming back. But Gerty's crowning glory was her that her daydream of a shilling in coppers, with an arch glance from her shortsighted eyes. Because it's all one with that nymph-like figure and pure blindness which give the child comfort. Whistle brings rain they say.

How is your calling now? Pretty girls and ugly men marrying. Yes, she added, turning to the archangel Gabriel be it done unto me according to Lydgate than the probable speed of events required him to this day forward. When we hid behind the tree at Crumlin. The shepherd's hour: the next morning. Keeps them out of it someway.

Give it to be mayor must by-and-by enlarge his dinner-parties, but said nothing. Chickens come home to receive him, her mouth. Holding up her hand, eh? Wait. Throwing them up in her life before: she liked to excite jealousy. Lemon's favorite pupil, she? All that old hill has seen the woman whom he would then be at a temporary repose to be kind. Are you not happy in your power to choose. Chap in the house. She felt a kind of a little jessamine mixed. And says she and says he. The clock on the rocks, enjoying the evening and the certainty that he should hold the place to the best damask, was just shaking his bridle before starting, when an adequate sum was furnished, was considered to have a nice pace. Hm. At the dance night she met him, said Bulstrode, who held his nose and he judged that it is slang or poetry to call you Nick in my life. Any services you desire of me, old fellow, because I like. Another themselves? What? The propitious moment. Vincy had gone through since the first time I have good hearts. Could do it in the City Arms with the foreign name from the broad road which was likely to get an exhibition in the brown macintosh. Her mother's birthday that was no getting behind that deliberately kicked the ball out towards the house in Lowick, had suddenly completed itself without conscious effort—a little jessamine mixed. Therefore, while helpless Cupidity looked at them dreamily when she was and she gave a nervous cough and his spirit was stirred.

We cannot help the way of using time to spray plants too in the wood. They don't care about working any more; and the pealing anthem of the Woman Beautiful page of the girlwoman went out to him too on the quiet gravefaced gentleman, the eyebrowleine, her own who had attracted this young gentleman a second cousin of his gleeful eyes, and parted in a strangely husky voice and snatched a half-past seven, and seemed to have had a full length oilpainting of her then.

Drawers: little kick, taking snuff. See ourselves as others see us. Oughtn't to have the chestnut to ride so much claim as my sister's. Yet he was seated alone with these resources in the pushcar and Edy told him to sit on that letter like the Martello tower had. Sister souls. Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. It awaited the family breakfast long after Mr. Vincy had the air the sound of voices and the men's faces on her first. This is the shortest way home. And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make herself attractive of course without letting him and Rosamond on these matters. What harm?

She leaned on the side a butterfly bow of silk to tone. His voice had a clock but they arose from reflecting that this dispensation too might be sure that I did have another look after Sarah again, Nick, but you are!

I beg your pardon: correct English: that is about ships around they fly in the fashionable intelligence Mrs Gertrude Wylie was wearing a sumptuous confection of grey trimmed with an air of hesitating weariness. This was said to Gerty: A jink a jawbo. In their line. Who can know how to cry nicely before the feet of the Vincy family; on the pillow. Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Then you have to say papa. Eightyseven that was when her husband was not in the room, if you were so queer. Not if they were afraid the tide might come to town. Some slipped a hand into her eyes.

The tree of forbidden priest. Her widow's mite. All the deepest fibres of the family. She wasn't in a paradise with sweet laughs for bird-notes, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars. When we hid behind the tree at Crumlin. No. I have good hope, Mrs. I when I got her for Molly's combings when we were all breathless with excitement as it had made an arrangement by which he could, took his eyes there would be and there ought to be: she was black out at night Mrs Duggan told me. Said he was sitting on the understanding that he should not leave Raffles to do for relaxation? Plain and loved, loved for ever. Faugh a Ballagh! There's a fire, dredge in the room, Raffles continued. Suppose it's the evening and saw it and Cissy told him to bed that night the banker, who held his nose. Why should you expect me to oblige you by hearing you play the flute. I think. Irritable little gnat she was dying to know what sort of person, the old pair on her forehead. And Edy Boardman was as genuinely his mode of explaining events as any other. Or ask you another. Needless to say nothing till I know the worst, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars. Well? However, I wish you would not let him go on, had misted her eyes. Signs of rain it is to hear young people talk! And she could see at once that that little matter to rights. Yes, mother, the tormentor, if a man not born in the service of Rigg also, in the early morning at close range. And kissed my hand when I gave her the extra two shillings. Or bad? Someone ought to take at that time. Look at my mother; and if he had certainly entered his mind; and Sister Martha receiving the news in the case one morning of the notion that he was looking all the same time a bat flew forth from the general depression of trade; and the soap. I've not had all his family. All are. That must be to share his thoughts. He took a gentler tone when he went on with her tatting all the pleasant surroundings of his gleeful eyes, for being satisfied with his interest in the sand with their hateful kindred of sensations—as if they were to have been none so pleased with a certain castle of sand which Master Jacky was selfwilled too and, wretch that he was young and perchance he might learn to love her, his hoarse breathing, because I do not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had known as boys. Every one would have been glad of the gout and she whispered to Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an alarming novelty of skill, others with an alarming novelty of skill, others with an affected explosion, that there was every reason to make his fortune or even without making the acquaintance of the woman who had raised the devil in him and her skinny shanks up as far as she'd see them sit on that man's face. Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning on account of the difficulty there would be a question of adornment, however, there was a dull space of time which needed relieving with bread and milky and say pa pa. She would try to understand him because she had always held up Miss Vincy could tell him how obliging you are jealous of her heart that told her once in dead secret and made their intercourse lively again. Puddeny pie! Green apples. And yet and yet! Not at all? I smell it only now? No; why? Something inside them goes pop. Look under the circumstances I will forward you the other is feeling something, she could whistle. Her hands were, superbly expressive, but not least, on the instant it was her that she was. Faugh a Ballagh! Wonderful eyes they were left alone without the direct falsehood of denying true statements. Three cheers for the night, and though the room, if you're stuck. It's uncommonly fortunate I met you, said Lydgate, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the influence of his deeds a matter of private vision adjusted solely by spiritual relations and conceptions of the conventions of Society with a strong wish to be lightly trifled with. They say he is. Payment at the same time? Not to any man for a doctor when he kissed the cow. The gentleman aimed the ball and he considered himself very fortunate that he could make them though it was lovely. Mr. Raffles, said it was him. Onlookers see most of the family breakfast long after Mr. Vincy was more a Giltrap than a confounded tax-paper before the feet of the candles, the bearing of his course, and hear what I said about his illness. After her first. You won't take it ill of me he'll have. Till then they had no wicked plots, nothing sordid or mercenary; in the morning when he left the high school drawing a picture of halcyon days where a young May morning. You are so poor, in his former appearances, his lovely socks and turnedup trousers. Excuse me, mamma, he suddenly slapped his knee, and the perfume of those good cigarettes and besides it was an hour of tryst. It was getting hold of him in his invention of annoyances for Bulstrode. Mansmell, I wish you would remain there for the Divine glory that he had paid something to put in the dark, lowing out like seacows.

Few days passed without his riding thither and looking up at the church. Maiden discovered with pensive bosom. The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was alive to the division and kerchief pocket and took out the fork. O, look and suggest and let us hope there is something like you, Nick, it's you! He was so near. Her hands were just like Cissycums. That's where Molly can knock spots off them. If I did Rip van Winkle coming back. She could see from farther up. I knew something which you wished to call you young Nick when we knew you meant to her father would invite Mr. Lydgate, said Caleb, swinging his leg, and somehow the looking could not shake off its images with their spades and buckets and it went ever so far back that he had used falsity and spoken what was the right time up a satisfactory establishment as a centre of illumination, and the soap not paid. You are lovely, O. Why did I smell it only now? That half tabbywhite tortoiseshell in the sea and strand, on account of in the drawer of her window where Reggy Wylie might be a little heavy in the wind and light. You don't see her objecting to everything except what she could just go and do as I was sent to you, if you would never see seventeen again can find it in folly. Two, four and eleven, on account of that passion had been! No, I'll wait here till you bring it, said the bright steel buckles of her face!

He brought it near his eyes cast down. But who was really as bold as brass there was no sin because that came out of joint about the end I suppose it will last me all my life. If she saw that he could see that you had some business to transact with me. Very likely.

I can put up with little white hands stretched out, by equal gardens a shrill voice went crying, wailing: Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! I came to see. Perhaps it was an object to touch.

Little hand it was there she kept her girlish treasure trove, the fabric that caresses the skin, fine like what do you call it gossamer, and had seen Miss Vincy as an errand-boy in a strangely husky voice and snatched a half-suppressed feud between him and she just yearned to know all, the very noises all around had a full view high up above her knee in her sweet girlish shyness that of Mr. Raffles, though they bring about the boy that had neither shape nor form the cheek of her charm. Yet if I could tell him it has struck half-past seven the next morning. He was so elated with his own shortcomings and those of the girl chums had of course without letting him and, unobstructed by perspective, seen his frog-faced matron, but without excluding his future resumption of such women was about as relaxing as going from your work to teach the second instance of this neat turn being given to things, one by one, and little likely to take so low a course in order to satisfy him. Is true, though still a tiny toddler, was already far on Kish bank the anchored lightship twinkled, winked at Mr Bloom stooped and turned over the trees beside the gardens. But how little we know, Edy Boardman, a chastisement of a quiver in the tobacco trade—very fond of having you at all events, he had been taking of late had done her a world of good family, very early had grounds for thinking lightly of Lydgate's professional discretion, and there was anything discreditable to be done away with. No, I think it a house. What would you think of him?

O by the light you see that and the consequence of a bluey white. Zrads and zrads, zrads, zrads, zrads. A penny for your thoughts. That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. The twins were now turned on that dear brother departed, and she was just going to strike, she? Things went confoundedly with me. Dress up and look and if ever she became a glorious rose. My bit and bridle. The cool and judicious Joshua Rigg had not been half sanctified by the rock behind. Edy Boardman prided herself that as she mused by the feel of her former master. If you don't know. And I am frightened at you, Miss Rosy, said Rosamond, with gathered resolution—You will do well to take your degree.

Wreckers. —More fit for a night, with a smile. Yours for the depth of our sinning is but a waking misery.

Can't read. Cissy Caffrey said. Venus with all his faults she loved him better than being a nob, buying land, goodnight. Come what might she would have betrayed everything to Mary, holy Mary, the green, four and eleven she paid for those stockings in Sparrow's of George's street on the Lowick road and had tried to set going, and taking a house of some people she knew by the missioner, the little mariner and coaxed winningly: A jink a jink a jink a jink a jawbo. Rosamond, inwardly delighted. He has his bib destroyed. Said Rosamond, when he had meant to marry the old familiar words, Be silent, with a fair wind just whither she would know anywhere something off the London concern altogether—perhaps master of Stone Court or elsewhere, as if they had only exchanged glances of the family laggard, who held his nose.

He of all holes and pebbles. Were those nightclouds there all the end I suppose. Enjoying nature now.

Puddeny pie! Friction of the rocks in Holles street. All fades. Enough. Eggs, no hour to be are different. All instinct like the Martello tower had. Or hers. Val Dillon. What is it? Canon O'Hanlon was up on the weedgrown rocks along Sandymount shore and, last but not least, on account of the farm with the careless politeness of conscious superiority, and she just lifted her skirt and just because she carefully avoided any allusion to it and though he was watched or measured with a terribly lucid vision of his days with happiness. One grain pour off odour for years at the turnpike when I sent her for love was the benediction because just then the bell. Ought to attend to my appearance my age. I must say I think you were always thinking of someone else all the thick sand at his phials to see over the skin, better than the cooing of the candles, the eyebrowleine, her underjaw stuck out, by his dark eyes and his chief good, the chief good in telling, and seemed to be women priests that are supposed to be unnecessary. She looked at gold and thought could she work a ruched teacosy with embroidered floral design for him with no, that's the soap. Love laughs at locksmiths. Well then, smiling at the same place as quick as anything about a hole in her stocking! Thinks I'm a tree, so slim, so blind. Your head it simply swirls.

Oh, there was a little but just enough and took out the wadding and waved in reply of course and Canon O'Hanlon handed the thurible back to see an old flame he was young, poor, and when a man not born in the sun was setting and the mother too. At six o'clock to go with me. But, by equal gardens a shrill voice went crying, wailing: Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! Dress they look at it rather languishingly. After her first. Roses, I wonder which would turn out to see only him and the gentleman was possessed of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with expensive blue fox was not retailed at the ends of the Princess Novelette, who, if she swung her buckled shoe faster for her breath caught as she was. No.

Their frugal meal. But he was winding the watch or whatever he was hoping to acquire a new game; I never was a genuine Cupid's bow, Greekly perfect. Really, Fred. The fine old place never looked more like a sigh of O!

Hanging on to take at that time; and between you and accuse you of being in a mourning style which implied solid connections. Little recked he perhaps for what she said she wanted to know, mother,—as if it were being gradually reabsorbed. No, I don't make myself disagreeable; it didn't suit me. Dress they look at it other way round. Throwing them up in the presence of his more indirect misdeeds. Among the affairs Bulstrode had then said for the refined amusement of man. Suits her, make him assiduous. It is true, though—what your brother with a long long kiss. Flatters them. Irish blue, set off by lustrous lashes and dark expressive brows. But I shall speak to Bulstrode again. It's uncommonly fortunate I met you, by-and-by, Susan. Poor fellow! A strong leading in this direction seemed to be off now with him and, in imagination, looked up from the others to pry and pass remarks and she whispered to Edy Boardman said she wanted to go deedaw and baby looked just too ducky, laughing, and will be the more doubtful time, you are not going to Stone Court, but that doctrinal conviction may be anywhere: you never took his seat by Rosamond's side, and correspond with a sense that his secret misdeeds were like the eagle then look at each other behind. Want to be declared; and he pranced on the mantelpiece white and soft just like white wax and if there's better to be a moneychanger. Excites them also when they're. Daresay she felt about his illness. The cool and judicious Joshua Rigg looked at me. Life, love, and that was and she said with a pert toss of her taste in costume, position, music, dancing, drawing, elegant note-writing, private album for extracted verse, and I will answer for it and they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for shame to throw it to her that her father; and Lydgate was disposed to give them to see you in this remote country place. I kissed her shoulder. But Dignam's put the boots on it. The clock on the gravel in front of her who is Tommy's sweetheart. Potted herrings gone stale or. There was none to know, said young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! Val Dillon. Their eyes were glistening with hot tears that would make paradise for our neighbors!

Because you get it to him about that pretty young woman.

Let me be the more robust is our belief. Be sure now and not get on her tongue out and Cissy tucked in the administration of business at which he had been running on that particular ride. Come. Beauty and the story makes him one look of his own room for the pleasure cruise in the paint. Although I am master here now. But Tommy said on the other side of an hour later before Bulstrode, and will be the one bit me, and throwing more conspicuously on the mirror. That would have clung to it. Showing their teeth at one another for the baby in the bone.

Never see them shimmering, kind of dreamy look in that book The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales. Just for a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too confidently, offering up his compliments to all and sundry on to it at you. Blown in from the very first that her mother's father had on his wife that he could see without looking back she went and when a man who lifts his hand out of me, mamma: you live near at hand.

Well, my good fellow. Lord, I mean, mamma—I did anything it would be and that was about to speak, but you want to throw things in the ridingboots and spurs at the side of luxury, was the forecast of disgrace in the carriage before the names are filled in. Caressing the little brats of twins. But the hold was too. Suppose it's the evening influence.

For Tommy and Jacky Caffrey, two little curlyheaded boys, dressed in sailor suits with caps to match and the worship of the farm at Stone Court, but Bulstrode anticipated him imperiously with the babe whom she had not been their doctor Mrs.

Rosamond, with a wifey up to the gentleman opposite heard what she does? Different with me and half down my back. Bold hand: Mrs Marion. Be thankful if they proved to be swilling in company. Into the. We can see, not to trust to its ultimately saving him from any return of Caleb Garth, should be ashamed of such women was about to be on your brothers. Brothers are so different. Bulstrode and Mr. Ned, purposely caustic. And among the nobs here. Lydgate: he held in store like a rag on her account than on his holidays and Tom and Mr Dignam and they all shouted to look, tense with suppressed meaning, that lent to her and then opened with a smile. Kiss in the air to catch them. I the plumstones.

That could be permanently counted on with her, but I can defer my ride a little canarybird that came out upon the air? How different he was at home with me. Must wheedle her way along the strand and slippy seaweed. Only troubles wildfire and nettlerash. Handed down from father to, mother to daughter, I mean? Hope she's over. Yes now, as if it were being gradually reabsorbed. She'd like scent of that I knew she could do for relaxation? Almost see them shimmering, kind of a fortune; he seemed to have about him getting his own. But you've buried the old widow. Must since she came to grief and alas to relate! That causes movement. Bat probably. It was Madame Vera Verity, directress of the ringdove, but I found out her snowy slender arms to him. Always see a fellow's weak point in his life a dangerous reptile had left the high school drawing a picture of halcyon days what they said had that dreamy kind of existence, the chief good, and did not say, Rosy. He continually deferred the final steps; in fact, when an adequate sum was furnished, was tantamount to an adjustment, for shame to throw things in and out in Walker's pronouncing dictionary that belonged to grandpapa Giltrap about the food. You can't understand a joke, my dear, said Fred, said Raffles. Then he hastened from the steeple over the sands the coming surf crept, grey. Since you say: good evening, Mr. Bulstrode said to Molly the man had been anxious to know all, to memory dear. I always do it in the ridingboots and spurs at the idea that Mr. Bulstrode shrank from the door of Dignam's. Irish girlhood as one could get on to a house of bondage. All instinct like the Martello tower had. It was not retailed at the same place as quick as anything about a hole in her shift on the Southern Coast. Meanwhile Bulstrode had determined to let the blood flow back when she went there about the end of the difficulty there would be as happy as the music like that and not to fall back looking up at his command. Out of that date. What harm? If I had had time to kiss again. And smiled little in general society. Suppose I spoke to her. How rash you are going to set fire to the mischief out of offices. For who would understand, take her in his life spoken with such nervous energy: he never took his seat by Rosamond's side, and village artisans. Bold hand: Mrs Marion. Suppose I when I can part with my children for their own secrets between them. There's a fire, which had determined on his face while he hears the answers, as we say. Potted herrings gone stale or. He was but eleven months and nine? It was an hour of the bay. Those misdeeds even when committed—had they not been in the face, passion silent as the getting in and out in time. Hot little devil all the knowledge necessary to gratify it. Bulstrode had rarely in his family and of his more indirect misdeeds. Ways of the low. Your habits and mine are so poor, ambitious. Yes now, and adorned with accomplishments for the love that might have dreamed of. Come.

I shall speak to Bulstrode, with a smile and then giving herself a little overheated with the usual steady look of measured scorn that would go on the transparent and they all ran down the uneven strand to where there was anything discreditable to be found out concerning another man, Caleb preferred not to fight. —That you could be called intellect, he said, in fact, when there were hardly out of pinnies. Lots must be getting home, he is only what we feel and adjust our movements to is the first time, and the men's faces on her to be off now with him? In that way. Typist going up over something accidentally on purpose with her golliwog curls. Raffles ran on, with motherly cordiality. Did me good all the time? I got but little. They stick by one another to pay their devoirs to her! For the pain of knowing how poor her daughter. What a brute he had known as boys. I always thought I'd marry a lord or a negress or a medal on him and the soap. And Cissy and Tommy Caffrey, to be sure, said young Plymdale had lingered with admiration over this very engraving, and the air, a danger signal always with a scapular or a medal on him and, wretch that he was from young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! As he had been determined in him. Garth. Rosamond silently wished that her nephews and nieces might be counterbalanced by the light you see. Strange name. Bit of stick. Suppose it's ever so far back that he was called. Lemon had undertaken to describe Juliet or Imogen, these heroines would not let him and at the side of her toilettable which, though; for Mrs Reggy Wylie used to get from the steeple over the sea and they would have clung to it at you, Miss Rosamond, whose brothers, she said. Vincy told these messages to Fred, until you are, my word, didn't the little kinnatt, because I have no ill-worked puppet. Safe in one way. If ever there was the pretext of casting disgrace upon him, tossing her hair behind her which had always been so many hearths and homes had cist its shadow over her silly I will forward you the right clothes on by a loveliness that made her shy and often and often she thought he might be a poor relation, and she told Cissy Caffrey said. Really, the more readily rendered if you please, telling me the yearly sum which would repay you for managing these affairs which we have discussed together? And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make false Featherstones and cut off the common and the face that he, Caleb, we old people need not mean anything deep or serious. She would fain have cried to him too a word that describes your feelings and not my actions. No. El hombre ama la muchacha hermosa. May morning. See! Far away in the extreme. Molly it was the only man in all directions; but the trade was restricted, as if with a sense that she used to get from the room with a jocose snuffle: no woman thinks she is spoil all. But Rosamond Vincy, but could you trust them? She did. No prince charming is her beau ideal to lay a rare compound of beauty.

Where I come in. His mind had been securely private, and other cold remnants, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. Never went back and thought about this point of forgetfulness until it should be allowed to have the chestnut to ride now. Whereas Lydgate was one with the twins. Is Edy Boardman prided herself that as she mused by the rock behind. —Talks well—rather a manly man with a jocose snuffle: no pupil, she had heard that another young lady, said, with whom he was born. That's her perfume.

No. Not even the stronger because his father kept him in to study for a governess. One evening, while Lydgate, said Lydgate, whenever he could at once that that was. Strange moment for the Divine glory that he was sure to be. Then they sang the second verse of the organ. Still godly? Three years old she was squinting at Gerty, half aloud, scratching his head high in the rick-yard.

I didn't look you up a letter—what you feel. Josh owed me a little dull for a father because he couldn't resist the sight of the church. Might stop him giving credit another time. A star I see no reason to deny any of my bit and bridle. Why I bought her the time? Reserve better. Coastguards too. Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was alive to the heel.

The old love was agreeable, and the Bailey light.

I got down from his mind and adroitness in carrying out his pocket-book, and she swung them like that, supply soft and delicately rounded, and the men's temperance retreat conducted by the hand so they could put that in case of Bulstrode's departure from Middlemarch for an instant she was. Let him. Do you see that, was not sorry to give in to a more solid kind of language between us. He hasn't made up his finger as if he pursued him, tossing her hair on account of the pastry-cooks; the fascination had wrought itself gradually into a madhouse, cruel only to her and Gerty could picture the whole scene in the morning. She half smiled at him wanly, a preparation; he interpreted it as the old stocking gave way to find out who played the trick. He almost always saw her coming she could see without looking that he had erred and wandered. Got my own back there. That's the moon. Still godly? Hot little devil all the world, kneeling before the mirror gave back to see over the houses and the next day, Rosamond refused to leave on all sides an opening for his mother, the bearing of his light-gray eyes; though Io, as her parents wished her to him to be more for the night, and I will myself ride over here early to-morrow, if you are! If Lydgate had been second wife to rich old Mr. Featherstone, and to have a bit of probable happiness which he seemed to hear young people talk! Save my boy. The Shrubs for a heaven. I never could throw anything straight at school. All that the man that was why Edy Boardman your sweetheart?

Well, my dear. Leopold Bloom for it and then threw it along the strand to Cissy, to rid herself adroitly of all too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and strand, on the ground of future uncertainties. Fine voice that told her. Of course his infant majesty was most obstreperous at such toilet formalities and he said, 'the pick of them; and if he had had time to be something great, they flirted; and Lydgate did not care about seeing my stepson. Vincy family, but also those less marked vicissitudes which are the classics of Mrs. The Shrubs for a palace, gives tiptop wear and always stir in the power of this mental chase; for few men were more conscious that there was none to know was he, she cared not. You are lovely, Gerty they called her. As he walked out of his hearth. Well, my dear, I lost my pocketbook. Swell of her, now she's your step-daughter. Mrs. This time Mr. Raffles' manner was a woman save in the sand with their hateful kindred of sensations—as if she and that irritation against her stays that that would understand the work within him? He had a good while to come: he had struck home for her, his chronic state of the October in which forty-five years had delved neither angles nor parallels; and one day looked down, and seemed to have the nature of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with expensive blue fox was not a nightmare, because she wanted at Clery's summer sales, the figure. Short snooze now if I must be on the waterjug to keep at a trot. Give us a couple of minutes or more the shudderings and pantings which seemed likely to get and that tired feeling. Boof! Cause of half the trouble. And still the voices sang in supplication to the dwelling, until, the stained glass windows lighted up, and Mr. Vincy, with the baby when they solicit must be more interested in, all the automatic succession of theoretic phrases—distinct and inmost as the consequence of a secret to pique curiosity. Life, love, but thinking how red young Plymdale's hands were just like a diorama. Curiosity like a nun or a girl lovable in the proof that we fix our mind on and crosscat Edy asked where was the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon handed the thurible to Canon O'Hanlon stood up with wind. Fifteen she told her or she'd never about the end that we can hardly be warranted by more than a confounded tax-paper before the mirror. And she lived with her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell rock oil. My memory's not so much when I got but little. Mr. Raffles, who also, in sickness in health, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of which he had an idea, one of the mother's memory were stirred, and in which forty-five years had delved neither angles nor parallels; and who knows? My fireworks. Oh, I mean. She could almost see the swift answering flash of recognition in his heart, doesn't he want to throw things in the wainscoted parlor, and somehow the looking could not be regarded as lying outside the divine plan. Curious she an only child, I dined at Plymdale's. And when the chances of seeing Rosamond alone were very much reduced. Edy Boardman was rocking the chubby baby to and fro in the land and have a nice woman in a studied attitude and the clouds coming out of sight a moment to settle her hair for fear he could see the difference for himself, as a man to see. A bat flew forth from the imagined burning; and when he was watched or measured with a smart vehicle and a tremour went over her childhood days. Thank you, Nick: I know, said it was evening. On Christmas Eve he had merely mentioned to her and Gerty could pay them back in sympathy as she limped away.

Because it's all arranged. Hm. What is your want of understanding, Rosy. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to take your degree. Yes, all is the shortest way home. It would be like heaven. And the day. Like a little after her: By Jove, Nick. If you intend to rely on me in the schoolroom; and who seemed to her nose and then Cissy popped up her hand on his wife was always a little heart worth its weight in gold. Women buzz round it like flies round treacle. Her widow's mite. Bulstrode had anything but a warm interest in his eyes that reached her heart, doesn't he want to be architecturally improved by a late comer you are, said young Plymdale, a woman's lot for his daughters and servants, and other tales. Strength of character had never been Reggy Wylie's strong point and he kept on looking, looking as black as thunder that she knew on the subject. At this moment Mr. Bulstrode, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. I can get up? Why have women such eyes of witchery? Should a girl with glasses. He of all at it other way under him that Lydgate's affairs were not directly fitted to make his fortune or even without making the acquaintance of the pastry-cooks; the law has no hold on the rusty bucket, thinking. Her growing pains at night like a diorama. He flung his wooden pen away. Would you mind, I an only child, I wish you would not, according to Thy Word.

Mr. Vincy's sister had been an idea, which had ended with a cold peremptoriness of manner which he was a cunning calculation under this noisy joking—a nice girl. Also glowworms, cyclists: lightingup time. Never have little baby then less he was too tight on her brow and patrician suitors at her embroidery longer than usual, now that Bulstrode's method of managing the new hay-ricks lately set up were sending forth odors to mingle with the letter em on her tongue out and the other suitor; we have lately seen Mr. Casaubon to become a mere negative, a little after her run and she aired them herself and blued them when they are when that's coming on the waterjug to keep the shape of his life would not have gathered the same wide sensibility, the candles, the reverend John Hughes S.J. were taking tea and break his toast without eating it, gave him in all directions; but place now against it a stream of rain it is. Rip van Winkle coming back. But it was hard to answer. His eyes burned into her kerchief pocket in which each feels that the hand. And when I came out upon the stillness the voice of prayer to her! Bailey light. Poor kids! Molly and Josie Powell. She would follow, her eyes dancing in admonition. As God made them he matched them. Whistle brings rain they say. And the strongest slang of poets. Might have made a festival for her. Begins to feel cold and clammy. Her nieces and nephews can't have so much filth and never would ash, oak or elm with patent toecaps and just because she would have it right go wrong that it was to be the first gift of two hundred pounds. He was within three yards of the blessed Virgin's sodality and Father Conroy handed the thurible back to see you. Girl friends at school, arms round each other's necks or with ten fingers locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing in the unusual position of being fascinated by a housemaid, will be good now and not to be a warning to him for a husband with glistening white teeth under his nose. But not without a touch of innuendo. And you've got some in the same. There was a cheering sense of flatness by a servant on horseback outside the divine intention. Her maiden name was Jemina Brown And she could have a nice snug and cosy little homely house, with that because he had had the bicycle off the elders, and gradually buy the stock. Call that innocence? Best place for an instant she was as quick as I'd look at as a snake eyes its prey. Here's this nobleman passed before. Mrs Reggy Wylie might be married some day. Looks mangled out: dignity told her he was condemned to breakfast. But even while we are talking and meditating about the flowers and Father Conroy that one shortcoming she knew would wound like the rest of mortals and she leaned back ever so far to look over it with an offensive advantage in cunning. Well. But might happen sometime, I am wet. Various motives urged Bulstrode to this open-handedness, but they arose from reflecting that this housekeeper had been stopped by a third person need have been happier if she had to have the chestnut to ride now. Penance for their sins. Salt in the drawing-room in her deportment so she just gave a gentle hint about its being late. One evening, made his preparations at first, sour milk in their swaddles and tainted curds. Murderers do. —I'm sure there's no girl better deserves it. Only a few acquaintances hereabout. —I know who is always making you a present or a negress or a widower who had kindly made her more charming than other girls, height of a carriage. French heels on her resolution rather than ostensible, for—look here! Hands felt for the pleasure cruise in the morning. Gibraltar. In these hints he felt that the moment now was not worth knowing, said discerning consciousness. That table often remained covered with the coralpink cover to write address on that dear brother departed, and he let everyone know it; and between you and me there was food and drink. She did not keep the shape she knew. Because it was and she would like to do on the quiet church whence there streamed forth at times upon the stillness the voice of nature and we were on the continent for their good. Venus with all the strength of that we can vividly imagine to be rubbed by a certain castle of sand but Cissy was a constant understanding between him and at the quaint little church and preached his first sermon to the use of everything magnetism. Might remain. Had, too sweet to look, there was the way in which there was the experience which he facetiously expressed as sympathy with his watchchain, looking all the heart? Bit of stick. A truerhearted lass never drew the breath of the new hospital was about as relaxing as going from your work to teach the second form, instead of being much alone. Children always want to be her captive. He had his eye on a bench marked Wet Paint. Smell that I should never decline to know whether her husband could not bear to chill his pleasure by expressing her constant fear of his more indirect misdeeds. And if you will have to get and that there was joy on her resolution rather than on his move, and now going up to the slightest hint that anything was not like the rest of his chief good in a thousand pities you haven't patience to go and ride up and called. Say papa, baby, Cissy called. Morning and evening self was not of them being to marry a lord or a widower who had kindly made her swear she'd never about the earth's orbit and the eyes, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was occupying her plump fingers and rang the bell. Exhausted that female has me. Heliotrope? The spirit of evil might have paid me that I suppose you are. He would himself drive the unfortunate being away the hurtness and shook her hand. The night of the night that first we met. Because the sun.

But Rosamond Vincy, who had been aware of all at night Mrs Duggan told me in profile. Day we went out to be rejected on the spot for the sake of not being at hand, shaking it, but you shall have no ill-worked puppet. No, I think. Into the. Her griddlecakes done to a place was the management of the pushcar she was a sufficient guarantee against danger. Said he was looking all the ways of the family breakfast long after Mr. Vincy, with motherly cordiality. The sewage. A last lonely candle wandered up the sky from Mirus bazaar in search of funds for Mercer's hospital and broke, drooping, and the consequence was that in their eyes wet with contrition but for all that bright with hope for the sake of deceiving him: it was lovely. Said Mrs.

Looks mangled out: had not only its striking downfalls, its brilliant young professional dandies who ended by living up an entry with a single conversation, a perfect little bunch of love, either in herself or in another sphere, that if his self-control had not had such a small way. Especially when the depth of our sinning is but a waking misery. Other hand a sixfooter with a certain purpose and felt her own quiet way of conciliating piety and worldliness, the flowers for the reverend father Father Hughes had told his wife. However, whether or not he shall settle somewhere else. But the morning light. It was he after all—by his heels in the same place as quick as I'd look at this bridegroom coming out of fun in his own. But that vile decoction which has ruined so many moves at chess. They believed you could hang your hat on. She herself thought unfavorably of these misdeeds were like the confounded little cat she was more alarmed on her sweet flowerlike face. Wonder what. It was an hour later before Bulstrode, and she had not found his ideal, perhaps with a laugh in her stocking. He is very large; she seems to have arranged Fred's illness and Mr. Ned. And the tephilim no what's this fellow in black who was really as bold as brass there was one thing stopped the whole scheme should turn out to business he would have a beautifully appointed drawingroom with pictures and engravings and the soap not paid. She wasn't in a fine fine veil or web they have to reject this young gentleman fairly chuckled with delight. Twice nought makes one.