#v; spilled your blood upon the floor | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eraenaa · 5 months ago

Text

Virginal Whore

Aemond Targaryen x Celtigar Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Prince Aemond sets out to find a whore to warm his bed; he finds a virgin instead.

Warnings: Dub-Con, Oral Sex (f receiving), Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 3,345

Sequel: Prince's Whore

Strife, suffering, and sorrow are all the Prince now feel— perhaps even then. He could no longer stomach the tolls of the war that was reigning havoc on the lands of Westeros. He sought a moment of reprieve, solace in the arms of a lover that he could take into his bed. Harrenhall was bent to his will; everyone was taken and at his mercy. He had women in his grasp, serving girls and some highborn ladies, even a bastard of House Strong, yet as comely and shapely as they were, none were able to stir the need brewing deep inside him. He could not find the want to take them into his bed and warm his cock.

He was, for a moment, entranced by a witch who held the name Rivers. The sorceress tried to seduce him with her lingering glances and mysterious presence, and he was ready to give in, to take her to his bed, but he had caught her placing her spell upon him. Slipping a vial of an unknown substance into his wine, Aemond could not tolerate such acts. He invited her into his chambers, luring her in with the pretense that he had succumbed to her charms, and as she sank to her knees before him, his cock in her mouth, and he was on the verge of spilling his seed in her throat, he took a dagger and slit her throat— him coming undone as her lifeless body fell and her blood pooled onto the floor.

That sufficed the need in Aemond for a short moment, but just a few days later, he found himself in want of release again— something that would quench the ache in his loins and the fire in his veins. Not just a mouth around his cock but a cunt as well.

He blended into the night and reached town; slipping into a whore house, he heard a few of the soldiers muttering about. When he entered the establishment, nothing of note came into view. It was the same as any houses of pleasure he had stumbled upon during the night. He was in desperate need of company. Scattered around him were the perfumed bodies that masked the smell of vile scents wafted about the room. His eye searched for something that could possibly sedate his raging cock.

He peeled away his hood, uncaring that the whores and their patrons could see his silvery locks; surely they have more pleasing matters to attend to rather than his presence. As he announced himself, he was quickly approached by a rather well-dressed man who he supposed was the owner. “My prince, welcome… you honor us with your presence.” He bowed lowly, and Aemond simply scanned his eye about the room once more. Without another word, the owner snapped his finger, and Aemond saw some workers hastily running across the establishment, surely readying themselves for him.

Aemond was led deeper into the den of depravity and into a secluded room where a bed waited along with a line of whores on their knees, waiting for the prince to take his pick. Aemond still paid no mind to the owner as he tried to sell the girls. Aemond assessed each one of them, presenting him with their seductive gazes and trying to allure them with their smiles, pushing together their breasts in the hope that would press even further desire into the prince.

He sneered as he almost finished assessing the lines of girls, ready to demand the owner to present him with a new batch, but his gaze was then caught by a cowering figure. Her eyes were planted on the floor, and she had used her long, flowing hair to cover her body, trying to display at least one ounce of modesty.

Aemond strayed closer to you, his curiosity peaking. When the owner’s gaze noticed the prince had focused on you, he quickly stood by your side, who was kneeling at the end of the line. “A newcomer, my prince,” He said and forcefully yanked the back of your head in order to raise your face so the prince could see your features. “I think you would like her, my prince… the prettiest one we have.”

Aemond said no word nor made any reaction, only studying the way your lips quivered and your eyes pooled with tears as you tried to avoid his gaze. “If her face does not please you enough, I am inclined to tell you that she is a highborn lady snatched away from her traitorous lord father’s care at the start of the war,” He added in pride. It was most beneficial for his business to have an asset such as yourself. Pretty, filled with youth, and had the blood of nobles coursing through your veins.

Aemond blinked as he felt his cock strain further into his trousers. You were certainly far from his usual type, but only you had stirred such a need in him that he had not felt in many moons. “And if that still isn’t enough to please you, your highness… I shall as well inform you that she is a virgin. Untouched by any man… but I do warn you that may not be the case in a short while.” The owner heinously laughed. Aemond did not know how to take such facts. He was accustomed to experienced hands bringing him pleasure and comfort… but there was just something in your innocence that he found wholly more appealing.

He turned to the owner and gave a nod. You breathed sharply as the room quickly emptied out, leaving you alone in the presence of a cruel prince. You were still on your knees, and your gaze quickly panted themselves on the floor once more. Aemond placed his hood by a chair and assessed your trembling frame that still knelt on the cold floor. “What house do you come from?” He questioned and brought a chalice already filled with wine to his lips. He drank two sips from it, but you still have not answered his query. “Speak, girl. Are you a mute?” He questioned, stepping before you. “N— no… my prince,” You say, ever so silently. He reached to grab your face in his hands, his fingers squeezing your soft cheeks together, a horrified expression screaming in your eyes.

“What traitorous house do you come from?” He almost spat. “House… House C—Celtigar, your Highness,” You almost cried, and Aemond was silently surprised. The blood that coursed through your veins was not from any plain noble house; the blood in your veins was the blood of Old Valyria. “Hm,” Aemond hummed as his fingers that held your cheeks savored the way your soft flesh felt. “And how have they taken you?” He questioned and raised the cup of wine to his lips once more, waiting for your answer.

“I was to be sent to Essos, but they— they commandeered the ship and slain the captain, and I was— was sold off from one man to another.” You explained, your hands clenching at the sheer fabric they made you wear, the material so thin that it did nothing to hide your body.

You boldly raised your gaze at the prince, hoping to find at least one speck of empathy in his lone eye, but you paled further as you saw a sinister smirk rise to his lips. How fortunate was Aemond to stumbled to the whorehouse at this moment, having the pick of the litter. An overly pretty, untouched noblewoman is now kneeling before him; the gods seem to take pity on his needing state that had plagued him for moons that had left him restless and irritated. “Stand,” he commanded and finally let go of his hold on your cheeks. Watching as you slowly and wobbly obeyed and stood on your feet.

He raked his eye upon your body, from your pretty face to the apex of your neck to your breast that hid behind the curtain of your hair. His gaze continued to travel downward from the curves of your hips and waist to your sex that was hidden by a dark shadow and to your plush thighs— as he saw the limbs of lavish flesh, a deeper sense of lust overcame him. He placed the chalice down and stepped closer to you. Aemond’s smirk widened as he heard a whimper leave your lips and your eyes tightly closed as he tore away the sheer fabric they made you wear.

He threaded closer and brushed away the hair that covered your frame, feeling you shiver beneath his touch as his hand trailed to the small of your waist, then upward to your ample tit, your nipple pebbling beneath his cold and calloused touch. He lowered his head and placed it in the nook of your neck, inhaling your scent that was not riddled with the generic perfume that they bathed the whores with. Compared to them— you were a breath of fresh air.

You gasped and turned stiff as the prince, without warning, pushed you upon the silk-covered bed. You cowered towards the headboard, petrified at the sinister smirk on the prince’s lip, completely enjoying your fear. “I must admit… I’ve never fucked a virgin before,” He said lowly as he took off his tunic, and you looked away as you felt your cheeks heat. “I’ve always preferred my women to be ones with experience… but there is, I suppose, something appealing in being the one first to taint a maiden— perhaps that is why my brother could smell them from a mile away,” Aemond said, a bit amused as he now realized the reason for his brother’s preference of seeking out virgins to be brought to his bed.

Aemond undid his trousers, standing bare before you as you curled into a ball at the head of the bed. Aemond relished in your cry for help as he pulled you toward the edge of the bed— thrashing upon his hold. You feel your tears slip from your eyes as the prince spreads your legs, and your cunt is fully exposed before him. You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt his breath fanning your folds, assessing you. Aemond bore witness to the truth that you truly were a virgin, your maidenhead still intact and just waiting for him to be ruined.

He thought about how to proceed; usually, he would have a maiden on their knees or on her stomach and take her from behind— no tenderness or foreplay, simply taking what he wanted and be done with all the bother. But somehow, your cunt was calling for his lips. He never found the appeal of it, feasting on a cunt that had been used and abused by differing men, sullying himself with the taste of other men on the body of a woman. However, you were untouched, and Aemond indulged himself with an act he was rather more curious about.

You froze as you felt the prince’s fingers trace along the slit of your cunt, the sensation new and disturbing as no one had ever touched you in such a place before. You felt his hand press your fold together, his eye on every movement you made. Aemond marveled at your cunt, never truly assessing one before— he never thought a cunt could be so… captivating. When he ran his fingers in the middle of your slit again, he chuckled darkly as he felt wetness gathering in them; despite your reluctance and defiance, your cunt was begging to be touched. Aemond’s mouth salivated at the thought.

A gasp left your lips, and you tried to close your legs as you felt the prince’s tongue replace his finger and lick a clean stripe in the middle of your folds. Aemond could not help but moan at the taste of you, tart and sweet, and he began to wonder if this was how his depravity would begin, with a taste of a virginal whore.

You bit your tongue as you felt his lips latch on the sensitive pearl, his tongue darting out and licking you further, teasing your hole and bringing further wetness. “Stop acting so demure and coy; you enjoy this, do you not, my lady?” He menacingly said against you, refusing to let his lips stray away from the sweet nectar of your womanhood.

You shook your head and felt your tears fall further, but any denial you do did nothing to stop the arousal dripping from your cunt. Aemond chuckled and used his tongue to tease you further, slipping it into the void of pleasure.

You finally let out a moan, one that was unexpected, and you felt shame as you found pleasure in such actions. That spurred further determination in the prince, darting his tongue in and out of you, his fingers sinking into your plush thighs as he, too, was overwhelmed by the pleasure of feasting on your cunt. Your sensitive pearl rubbed itself against the high bridge of his nose, your blood alight, your skin glimmering with a thin sheet of sweat, and your body ready to succumb to pleasure. Aemond felt it too, that you were close to what he concluded to be the first climax of your life, your body agitated and uncertain, your moans wry and held fear. He was debating if he should let you come undone now or wait when until his cock was buried deep inside your cunt. He was straying towards the latter, but as the thought of tasting you further infiltrated his mind, the prince obliged you to reach your peak and taste your orgasm. Your uncertain moans turned loud and sure, and your hands instinctively clutched the silver locks of the prince’s hair as you came undone by his tongue.

Aemond hummed in content, feeling his cock weeping at the taste of you. “I’ve never thought a cunt could taste so delectable,” He mused and planted his weight on his knees, staring down at your bare, flushed body and your face that was still trying to comprehend your first taste of pleasure.

The prince did not give you much time to grasp what had happened as his rough hands found home on your waist, and his cock was aligned against your dripping entrance. Your pleasured-clad face morphed into one of pain as you felt his length penetrating your undefiled hole. It was mean and sadistic, but Aemond found pleasure in taking away your innocence. He was filled with further satisfaction as he glanced down and saw how his cock was tainted with red, your maidenhead taken by him.

“What lord will have you now, my lady? Now that you’re the prince’s whore?” He grunted as his cock was fully sheathed inside you, the tip of it brushing a spot he knew all too well. “Are those tears of pain or pleasure?” Aemond taunted as he bent down closer to your face, his fingers brushing away the salty water that spilled from your eyes. “If it is the former, I will try not to take it as an offense. There are worst fates than being my whore, my lady— just ask the girls that served my brother,” He smirked and kissed away your tears, his lips straying further to yours.

He never found much pleasure in the act; he would only sometimes oblige the old madame in his once-favored whorehouse with the act because she seemed quite keen on it, but he never liked the way she tasted on his tongue after. But you, gods, was it too much if he would say that just one taste of you has had him on the verge of addiction?

You took in sharp breaths of pain as the prince thrust into you; he was kind enough to slow down his movements, letting you accustom yourself to his length, but by the second, Aemond was growing impatient. His moves started to move at a faster, almost violent pace, ignoring your cries of pain as he was certain they would soon turn into cries of pleasure. He had never had a cunt as tight as yours before; he had never truly paid enough attention to every fluter, every clench, every movement of the woman he was fucking, but now he could not help but focus on anything that you did underneath him.

He savored every moan and sigh that left your lips, every line on your furrowed brows, every scratch of your nail on his back as you felt his length rutting inside you. Aemond let out a groan as the moons of need started to overwhelm him. He was close to the peak he desperately sought, but he was genteel enough to coax one out of you first; you were a noble lady; after all, it would be terribly rude of him to leave you need and unsatisfied.

Aemond straightened his back and felt his cock twitch as he saw the site of you laid before him, your legs on his shoulder, his fingers sinking on your soft thighs, and your tits bouncing at his every thrust. You watched through hazy and pleasured-filled eyes as the prince licked his thumb and placed it flat against your nubbin, and his other hand pressed down on your lower stomach and spurred you further into pleasure. Your lips spewed out his name as you came undone, and the prince was quick to follow you. Filling your cunt with his seed, and finally, Aemond felt relief and satisfaction over him.

The prince panted heavily as he tried to regain his thoughts; he removed his length from your cunt and felt a lazy grin come to his lips as he saw the essence of both of you spill from your hole. Through your haze, you did not expect the prince to dip down and capture your lips into a kiss once again; tongue sought entrance, and you could not find it in yourself to deny him.

Both of you panted as your lips parted. You stared into the unique lilac eye of the Targaryen prince and were soon overcome with the implications of what had just happened. Your cheeks further turned red as you avoided his gaze once more, ashamed at how you relished and had enjoyed being defiled by him.

Aemond smirked and collapsed atop of you, savoring the feel of your intertwined bodies for a moment. You just lay there beneath him, and somehow, that was enough for him. But as he felt your hands wrap around him and your hand went to comb through his hair, he let out a further satisfied sigh at the feeling of comfort he never thought he could find in another.

It did not take long before Aemond had drifted into slumber. The cacophony of his release, fatigue, and you lulled him into a deep yet quick slumber. When he woke, he found you asleep beath him as well, looking so peaceful with your tear-stained cheeks and plush parted lips. Aemond delicately removed himself from you and silently walked out of the room.

When you woke, you found a pouch filled with coins by your side and the distant sound of moans and footsteps approaching. You raised the sheet of the bed to cover your naked frame as the curtain was lifted, revealing the silver prince. You stared in confusion as he tossed the dress you wore when you were abducted on the bed. “Get dressed,” You could only stare at him in further confusion, your limbs refusing to move.

Aemond smirked as the fear returned in your eyes. He was halfway through his return to Harrenhall, but the thought of you haunted him. He finally found the release he sought, and it would be foolish of him to let it wander free. Aemond was a selfish man. He could not oblige the others and let them have a taste of the pleasure that only you could present.

“Get dressed. I have brought you from your master. You’re all mine now, my lady.”

5K notes · View notes

wife-of-all-dilfs · 5 months ago

Text

from the flames | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season three — to signify the newly recognised alliance between the sky people and the grounders, a celebration is held within polis’ market square. a bonfire, alcohol, and the bawdy pulsation of drums is a sure-fire recipe for a stimulating night. add a watchful bellamy blake and his dancing muse into the mix, and, well… i’ll show you the consequences of such a potent combination.

pairing: bellamy blake x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption/intoxication, sensual dancing, jealousy, sexual desecration??, mild possessiveness, arguments, bellamy speaking in trigedaslang (giggling and kicking my feet), dialogue-heavy, manhandling, mild angst, smut, unprotected p in v (do not), reader is short because i’m short, deal with it <3

notes: i haven’t recently been watching the 100 so the timeline and characterisation may be a little off. also, ik this took me a long ass time, but i’m gonna try and make sure the next two parts come out a little quicker <3 i love y’all!

word count: 2.5k

“People of Kongeda and Skaikru, tonight we gather as one, united by a common purpose and a shared future of alliance. Before us, this bonfire symbolises more than just a flame; it is a beacon of hope, an opportunity to cleanse old grudges and pain that has divided us for far too long.

“Let this fire signify a new beginning and serve as a reminder that unity is not our weakness, but our strength. Let it be known that from this day, we join not as enemies, but as allies, and anyone set upon spilling the blood of our allies is spilling the blood of us all. Let it be known: Jus drein, jus daun!”

“Jus drein, jus daun!”

As much as Lexa’s words intended to inspire harmony, the crowd massed below the second-floor balcony of the dominating tower she resided on reacted in any way but. Fierce declarations of worship were cried out; large fists were pumped in celebration; and misty clouds of brew and saliva were sprayed into the tepid night air.

All was well, for the first time since we landed on Earth.

“Happy Unity Day,” I murmured to myself, taking a sip from the metal cup in my hand. I was standing on the outer edges of the unruly crowd of dark, rugged figures, who were surrounding an unlit wooden mountain and raving as it abruptly burst into vociferous flames.

The monstrous tepee of sticks was raging at the centre of Polis’ trading square, an open area bordered with stalls and operating food vendors that infused the air with a salivating meaty aroma. Glimmers of light chipped away into the familiar starry night above and an orange ambience was cast throughout the square, seeming to blaze beneath the skin of those who orbited the fire.

It was a somewhat perplexing scene: to be together as one people, celebratingratherthan being at war with one another.

A pensive mechanic stepped in beside me, eyeing the mixed crowd of Grounders and Sky People.

Raven folded her arms over her chest. “Don’t you think the fact that the Ark originally had thirteen stations and the coalition now has thirteen clans is kind of…”

“Unsettling?” I finished for her. “Yeah. Probably best not tell these guys the story of how Polaris got blown out of the sky. Don’t want to give them any ideas.”

“Polaris… Polis…” she continued contemplating. “Think there’s anything equally unsettling about that?”

I looked at Raven. She looked back at me.

I sucked in a sharp breath—“I’m not drunk enough for this conversation”—and tipped the harsh contents of my cup down my throat. The liquid was molten in both its ferocity and colour and was infused with some potent earthly spice; it was a blow to the stomach upon consumption.

“Is that such a good idea?” Raven asked, judging me as my head craned back to capture the last few drops of throat-scorching goodness. “I’m all for pouring a glass when the occasion calls for it, but these people have stomachs lined with steel—what do you think yours is made of?”

I grimaced at the taste. “You tell me. You’re the genius.”

The roll of her eyes was deafening. “I’m just saying, they’ve probably spent decades perfecting their drinks to suit them, to match their tolerances. I mean, even that human fountain over there couldn’t handle it.” She nodded towards a cluster of barrels where a titan of a man wearing armoured shoulder pads and breastplates was hunched over, violently emptying his stomach onto the cobbled ground.

I swallowed my own stomach at the sight.

“I just assumed you wanted to spend the night somewhat differently,” she said, a sweet undertone of provocation twisting her words.

My brows furrowed, and I turned to face her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her lips twitched at the corners—never a good sign.

The thing was, I knew exactly what she meant. Her unspoken words had already been circling my mind for days, weeks, months even, increasingly accumulating with both heat and fervour.

As ironic as it was, I think it’s fitting to compare my situation to that of a star’s formation.

There I was, a delinquent sitting stagnant in a cold nebula of misery in the Sky Box, parted from my family and friends, sent hurtling to Earth to die, only then to have my cold, miserable cloud intruded upon by a fiery presence, a head of tousled brown waves and a pair of rich, dark chocolate eyes.

An awakener. An activator.

This intruder began filling my head with his words, his laughter, his brooding stare. The weight of his presence began to grow; thoughts of him consumed me. From the most surprisingly vulnerable conversations to even the tensest arguments, he had a heat inside me swirling and it was sweltering to unfathomable heights. It showed no signs of stopping.

Raven’s malevolent brown eyes were pointing plainly at something far behind me as if to answer my question. I knew what I would see even before turning around to look, but moronic as I was, I looked anyway.

Chin hovering over my shoulder, my eyes wandered through the scattered crowd of Grounders and Sky People alike that loitered the bonfire’s outskirts. There, sandwiched between Lincoln and an unoccupied trading stall, was a face that not only had my stomach contents lodged in my throat, but my heart as well.

Bellamy.

He was standing with his arms crossed, each one concealed beneath his distressed guard jacket. And although his stance screamed ‘Don’t talk to me,’ his face said otherwise. He and Lincoln were engaged in some high-spirited conversation, much unlike themselves (although the supply of drinks may have been to blame). Bellamy was speaking through one of his overconfident half-grins while alternating between gesturing to-and-fro with a single hand and tucking it back under his opposing bicep.

My chest was burning; the bonfire somehow must’ve seeped into my heart.

It should be stated here that when a nebula accumulates enough particles, it turns into a protostar—not a main sequence star like our sun, but something that holds the potential to be. At this point, the formation is at its most precarious. If a sufficient amount of mass is not acquired, the protostar will fail to stabilise and will cool into a brown dwarf, forever existing in the cold, lonely expansion of space as a reminder of what it could have been.

Bellamy’s head gravitated in my direction. Our eyes met through the asteroid belt of rugged figures between us. My breath caught in my throat, and I turned back around.

A reminder of what it could have been.

Sometimes I worry my insufficiency has damned me already.

“Oh, my god.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Oh my god, Raven, why would you put me through that?”

“In the hopes that you’ll finally grow a pair and do something about it,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink to conceal her smirk.

“About what?” Now I was just being evasive.

She let out a frustrated huff and folded her arms over one another. Her countenance was a reflection of impatience: the raised eyebrows, the slight downward tilt of her head, the pursed lips. I almost laughed at her theatricality; then again, I almost cried because I didn’t want the reason behind it to be true.

I wanted Bellamy Blake.

The confession was boiling inside me; it was burning the tip of my tongue, and I knew I had to let it out to cool. And if the words were never spoken to him, then they at least had to be expressed to someone else, even if I never admitted them in the exactness I felt, for the exact words would be so heinous, so—hedonistic, that if anyone were to hear them, I’d be thrown into lock-up for the rest of my days.

“Fine, I guess I’m… attracted to Bellamy,” I spoke slowly, cringing at my own words. Raven’s face immediately lit up like an overzealous Christmas tree, her smugly curved lips parting to no doubt release an incongruous stew of condemnation and encouragement, which I stopped before it could even start. “Anattraction that I am not going to act on, Raven; our friendship is rocky enough as it is. I mean,” I scoffed, “have I even told how we first met? I held a pocketknife to his neck our second night on the ground because he threatened to pry off my wristband in my sleep. And he actually tried! You know that tiny scar he has on his cheek? That was from me!”

“Yeah, sometimes I forget how much of a self-righteous dick he was for a while there,” Raven mused. Her face then screwed with confusion. “Wait, how did you two even become friends? Because when I came down, you were at each other’s throats every single day over one thing or another, and then out of nowhere, it was as if the slate had been wiped clean.”

Ah.

The day the slate had been wiped clean.

A thick blurriness blanketed my vision as my mind withdrew from the present. You know when you get run down with some kind of sickness and your mind gets all scrambled and foggy? Like a fever dream? That’s what that day seemed like to me. Too many unimaginable things had happened, too many emotions and losses were felt, and I’d only shared them with one person before.

“You still there?”

My gaze flickered to Raven momentarily. She was staring at me, half with impatience, half with concern. “Just—” I raised my hand slightly in front of me “—give me a second.”

I inhaled. One, two, three. And I exhaled. Three, two, one.

A vulnerable creature of some sort nestled in my brain, softening the tone of my voice as I hesitantly began, “It was the, uh, the day the Exodus Ship crashed. My dad was on it,” I said, my last words barely audible. “Knowing that he was gone was one thing, but watching the ship crash? That messed me up for a good while.”

Raven, taken aback, muttered her apologies. I just shook my head in return. I sucked in a sharp breath, forcing the memory into the cobwebbed corners of my mind, and then continued, “Bellamy had found me in the woods that night. It wasn’t exactly a pretty sight. I think that seeing me in such a vulnerable state forced him to set aside his asshole-ry for a while because he actually managed to… comfort me.”

I remembered the tone of his voice, so shockingly gentle yet hardened in his trademarked sort of way as he reassured me endlessly that I would be okay. I remembered the warmth of his body as I lay crumpled and sobbing in his lap on the forest floor, clinging onto his arm as if it kept me from plummeting into a bottomless pit. I remembered his hands, swiping away the thousands of tears that streaked my face, the hair from my eyes.

I remembered our brief conversation as we walked back to camp: “I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” he had said, to which I whispered, “Thank you,” and after a short pause, he spoke again, “We all need someone sometimes. I know we don’t have the best history together but… I can be that someone if you ever need,” and then, once more, with an unwelcome flutter in my stomach, I whispered, “Thank you.”

A small, bittersweet smile lifted my lips. My voice sounded distant to my ears as I continued speaking. “We still nicked at each other here and there after that—that tension between us has never really disappeared—but there was also this new mutual understanding. And somewhere from mutual understanding came a rough-around-the-edges friendship, and then friendship turned into something else.” I paused to recollect my thoughts. “Well, for me, at least.”

Between the moment I started speaking to the moment I stopped, my gaze had wandered sheepishly to the toes of my boots. I felt so exposed, like the outer layers of my being had been cracked open to reveal a part of my soul to a girl I hadn’t even known existed until two months ago. Suddenly I remembered why I didn’t drink often.

I stood awkwardly, waiting. The weight of my confession and vulnerability were looming above us.

Raven was quiet; she made no witty remark or tease. Her eyes had only softened with understanding, shifting back and forth as my words were mulled over in her brain. And it was only from her foreign silence that I realised what her next question could be: why don’t you just tell him?

I began, “I don’t want to ruin—"

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she finally interrupted, shaking her head as if to dismiss my unspoken sentiment. “The age-old ‘I don’t want to ruin what we have right now’. But what exactly is that?” Her eyes once again interrogated mine. “Because I’ll make it clear to you right now and say that what you two have is not just friendship. Come on. You and Bellamy?” She shifted her head to catch my drifting gaze. “Anyone with eyes can see something is there, but clearly, neither of you have a pair.”

Talk about tough love.

A harsh outflow of air exited my nose, and I pushed my hair back out of my face. Everything was much more complicated than I thought it was. Was I really as blind as Raven said? I would have already seen what she does if it were true, right? Did Bellamy really feel the same?

Am I drunk?

I glanced behind me once more, catching a glimpse of Bellamy tilting his head back to finish his drink, exposing the sculptured column of his neck. Heat flushed through my cheeks.

Christ. I couldn’t let this one go. There wasn’t a chance.

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, still watching him.

An uproar of hoots and howls exploded throughout the square as the sound of drums and horns began to play, bringing my attention to the second-floor balcony of the Commander’s Tower where the noise floated down from. Drums pulsed with bawdy rhythm; horns bellowed with lewd backbone; a woman purred tribal vocalisations.

Bodies began swaying in disharmonious synchronisation around the bonfire, in pairs, in groups, individually. What tethered them was the raunchiness of their movements and the subtle carnality of their interactions with one another. I’d never seen anything like it; as I looked over at Raven and saw her similar intrigue, I knew she hadn’t either.

That was my mistake—to even acknowledge her in such a moment, especially after speaking about our previous topic. Her lips began stretching and stretching into a particularly wicked grin, and she turned to me. The devil was burning in her dark eyes.

Her answer to my question: “Give his eyes something to look at.”

part two

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake smut #bellamy blake fluff #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake fanfiction #the 100 #bob morley #bob morley smut #bellarke #bellamy blake x clarke griffin #wife of all dilfs ✍️#bellamyblake #raven reyes #bellarke fanfiction #bellamy blake x you

341 notes · View notes

acertainfemininemystique · 2 years ago

Text

SHE TSKS her tongue , eyes dark and sparkling .

❝ and to think , all that perfume i put on just for you , ❞ she purrs .

“ ain’t no point in hidin’. i know trouble when i smell it. ”

@acertainfemininemystique

#convo #backoffbub #v; spilled your blood upon the floor

3 notes · View notes

the-californicationist · 2 months ago

Text

Cali's Kinktober: Day 09

Kinktober Masterlist aurum potestas est - "gold is power" Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader Kinks > prostitution, coercion, corruption Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk. Warning: NONCON

You are hired by the FSB to plant a bug in Gaz’s coat pocket when he runs into you on the street. But he catches you in the act and drags you to his safehouse. As you realize that he plans to keep you as his prize, you wonder if this job was worth the money after all.

I think @cod-z left a comment about how much they enjoyed mean Gaz, so I took that idea a little too far.

They had known you were just hungry enough to say yes. You had seen them, those fucking Red wolves, lurking around Building D in your bloc apartments. They were bullying the kids who ran through the outdoor balconies, trying to climb on the roof to throw snowballs or to piss off the side onto unsuspecting pedestrians. And yes, they were little shits, but when you started to see them with black eyes and busted lips, you wondered if the FSB knew that they were twelve year olds and not fully grown men.

You wanted to scream at them to pick on someone their own size. To at least help the babushkas with their shopping trolleys. To maybe pick up a shovel and clear the path of ice and snow for a change. Maybe contribute to the community that they were policing so harshly? But, no. They didn’t give a fuck about the community. They were looking for those British spies.

Four Brits had moved into Building E, the shadiest bloc of them all, and they’d stuck out like a whole hand of sore thumbs. Everyone knew they were there. Their Russian accents left a lot to be desired. And yet, no one ratted them out. The Landlord, Danila Kosteyv, made sure the entire neighborhood knew that the Brits were off-limits. They’d obviously done well to line his pockets with enough rubles to last through the winter. It was the way of things: layer upon layer of corruption like a fetid little medovik, each cruel slice more putrid than the last.

So, when you were walking home from your job cleaning offices down Tverskaya street, it shouldn’t have surprised you that a menacing hand darted out from the shadows next to your apartment’s mailbox bank and curled around your arm.

“Idi syuda, devochka.” Come here, girl. Your assailant snapped at you, trying to drag you into the elevator next to the boxes.

You rolled your eyes at him, and put on your best Tajik accent, mimicking the women who worked with you on your floor,

“Sorry, no Russian.”

“Zatknis', suka. Zaydite v lift.” Shut up, bitch. Get in the lift. He shoved you with all of his force, and it was enough to fling you against the wall, spilling the meager contents of your purse.

“Fuck you, silovik. Tell your boss that the fucking chuzhaky are in the other apar–” A hard slap cut across your face without warning. One of the other brutes had raked his knuckles across your mouth, and now you could taste blood on your tongue.

You fought the urge to cry, and instead, you channeled your mother and rolled your eyes at him again, daring him to just shoot you already. You were nobody, just a cleaner. What they wanted, you couldn’t give them.

They boxed you in inside the lift, and their stale smell of cigarettes and sweat filled the tiny space, burning in your nose and throat. Once the doors shuddered open, they decided to walk you the rest of the way with each of your arms pinned in their big hands, bruising your skin carelessly.

You didn’t need to tell them which flat was yours; they already knew. The man who had spoken to you snatched your keys out of your hand and let himself in. You were pushed inside your own house, suddenly a prisoner in a place that you paid for. Even though you should’ve been scared, all you really felt was indignant.

The FSB bastards oozed into your dingy little flat like black tar, making everything that they touched dirty with their presence. They made themselves at home, eating your leftovers and drinking the dregs of the wine you’d been saving for your birthday.

“Chto ty khochesh'?” What do you want? You said in your normal Russian accent, dropping the ruse.

The leader, a fat, balding man with eyebrows like furry caterpillars and pock marks across his cheeks grabbed your hand and placed a device in your palm.

“Polozhite eto v karman odnogo iz shpionov. Zatem zazhgite svechu i postav'te yeye v okno.” Put this in one of those spies' pockets. Then light a candle and put it in the window. He told you, pointing to your one and only window that overlooked another bloc of apartments.

“Zaplati mne.” Pay me. You said, holding out your other, empty hand.

You waited for another slap, but instead, the man with the eyebrows rooted around in his pants for a moment and pulled out a money clip. He placed it in your palm and closed your fist around it, making your bones ache from his grip. You winced, trying to pull away, but he held fast, forcing you to meet his eyes,

“Desyat' tysyach rubley seychas i yeshche desyat' tysyach, kogda zazhzhete svechu.” Ten thousand rubles now and another ten thousand when you light the candle.

You looked down at the cash in your hand. This was more than you made in a whole week of cleaning offices, and you balked at the sum. These FSB men really wanted this job done. Eyebrows shoved his way past you, stealing your cigarettes from your countertop and pocketing them for himself. Just when he was about to close your door behind him, you rushed to it, holding it ajar.

“Zhdat'!” Wait! You called out, “Pochemu ya?” Why me?

Eyebrows wore a sinister smile across his mouth, bending close enough for you to smell his rancid breath, and you felt his hand trace his way up and over the shell of your ear, swiping down your braid gently with his finger, letting it rest in his palm.

“Ty dostatochno urodliv, chtoby ne vyzyvat' podozreniy.” You’re ugly enough to not arouse any suspicions. He sneered, “I ty deshevle shlyukhi.” And you’re cheaper than a whore.

He shrugged, slamming your own door shut behind him, leaving you to stew in your anger at his mean words.

The next day, you called in sick and headed over to Building E. You were bundled, smoking a brand new pack of cigarettes, your belly full for the first time in weeks thanks to the silovik’s money. This was not an area for foreigners, nothing like the shops and rental properties near your job on Tverskaya. But, when you saw the Brits emerge from their ground-floor flat, they were looking more and more like they belonged.

They’d taken to dressing in cheap but warm clothing, sporting hats and shoes and jackets they’d seen other men wearing around the bloc, and whomever had trained them in looking unapproachable had done a damn good job. Alas, they were still too noticeable to get away with much. Their nails were too clean, they were too well-fed, and the stain of an oppressive cycle of gray winters had not hardened their expressions quite enough.

You lingered closer to their apartment, pretending to pass out pamphlets you’d found around the bus station, giving yourself a reason to get near their entryway. One of them, the tall, handsome one with dark skin, walked by you, ignoring your pamphlet, letting the folded brochure graze his shoulder as he walked.

You chased after him,

“Gospodin, podozhdite! Razve vy ne khotite uznat' o –” Sir, wait! Don't you want to know about –

“No Russian. Izvini, ya ne govoryu po-russki.” His voice was warm like a fire, even when he was trying to give you a cold shoulder.

“Here, sir. Please, take it,” you moved closer, slipping the bug into his coat pocket, pretending to stumble over the cracked sidewalk a bit, keeping your eyes pinned on his and praying that he would take the bait.

He stopped walking, and for a moment, you thought you’d gotten away with it. He took one of your pamphlets, and you noticed just how much bigger he was than any of the FSB assholes who had come into your house. But, the pair of big, brown eyes that stared into yours were too bright, they held too much knowledge, too much experience. Behind his gaze lurked a smart, calculating beast, and when he let your pamphlet flutter onto the slick, icy path, you knew you had been caught. His full lips curled up into a smile, not unlike the one Eyebrows had given you when he degraded you in your own home, and he reached his hand into his pocket, pulling out the device you’d planted.

“Drop somethin’, love?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at the bug between his fingers. With very little effort, he smashed it in his hand, reducing it to platicky bits and letting them fall to the concrete, grinding them under his black, leather boot, crushing it to dust.

You turned, bolting back to your building, but he caught you by the wrist, gripping you even harder than the FSB men, nearly breaking your small bones just like he had destroyed the bug.

“No, please. They made me!” You protested, stumbling as he dragged you through the dimly-lit hall of his building, scraping your shoulder along the rough wall as he stomped off towards his flat.

You fought him, knowing that once he pulled you over the threshold of his door, you were as good as dead.

“They made you, huh? Did they threaten you? They holdin’ your mum hostage at the Kremlin, innit that right?” He rolled his eyes, showing the same disdain for you as you had for the FSB agents, sarcasm dripping from his sharp teeth.

“No… No! But they –”

He shouldered the door open, letting it bang into the wall, landing in the same spot where dents already existed from years of other men doing the same exact thing.

“They what? They said they’d come back and kill you, is that it?”

He sat you on the bed, your wrist still stuck to his closed fist, and he stood between your legs, towering over you like a giant.

“No…” You sniffled, fearful tears rolling down your cheeks.

“No. Then what are you doin’ this for, babydoll? Don’t you fuckin’ know better?”

“I needed the money!” You screamed up at him, shame flooding your voice.

He paused, looking down at you for a moment, his eyes glaring but a fake smile warping his visage. He looked like a hyena when it laughs, hungry and ready to taste blood.

“You needed the money? So, you risked your fuckin’ life. My fuckin’ life. All for what?”

He wanted a number. You stuttered, suddenly regretting telling him the truth,

“Ten th-thousand…”

“My life, all for ten thousand filthy fuckin’ rubles? Bloody hell…” He was laughing in disbelief, now. His hand wasn’t even holding onto you anymore. He was just shaking his head in disbelief, bitter and cruel in his appraisal of you and your morals.

“We come all the way out to this bloody fuckin’ shithole, tryin’ to stop a goddamn terrorist, tryin’ to save you bastards from fuckin’ war. And you’d sell me out for a goddamn hundred quid?”

His eyes peered down at you, and he seemed like he was full of thoughts. His energy was electric, and you could almost feel the edges of the room bending and warping as his mind raced, controlling you and this nasty little predicament like a magician, every movement was sleight of hand, every word was a riddle.

“What else would you do, huh? I got the bleedin’ bills right here,” he ripped a stack of rubles from his back pocket, flipping them in front of your nose like he was counting them out for you, letting the corners slap against your skin, “How much do you want? I don’t have any fuckin’ bugs for you to plant. So, what else are you gonna give me, huh?”

He bent his body down to look you right in the eyes, too close and yet his breath didn’t make you recoil like Eyebrows’ had. You imagined, in another place, in another time, this man could be good. He could be kind. But, what motivation had you given him to be kind to you?

“I… I don’t know… What do you want?” You asked him, sniffling and pitiful, holding your arms to your chest like you were shivering from the cold.

“How much for a kiss, hm?” He smiled, pretending to be sweet, and doing a poor enough acting job to know that he was still a threat.

He held up a red, crisp five thousand note, holding it in front of your eyes. Slowly, right in front of your face, he folded it in half and brushed the paper across your lips, watching with satisfaction as your mouth fell open in shock and terror.

“Yeah? One kiss. I think it’s a good bargain, love. What do you think?” His voice was low, like a lover’s, and yet you knew you were anything but.

You didn’t know another way out of this situation, so you leaned forward, pressing your mouth to his, kissing him as if you were in a school play, performing the act and yet feeling only embarrassment and shame.

“Mm,” he pulled back, his brow furrowing, “Let’s try again, yeah?” He pulled another note out, just as clean and crisp as the first, holding it up to your mouth this time, “Go on, then. Kiss me like you mean it.”

He kept the paper in place, moving his mouth over it, kissing you with the barrier between your lips, his other hand gripping you at the nape of your neck and forcing your head to move where he wanted it to. Then, as he kissed you deeper, the paper fell, wet and crumpled on the floor. His tongue invaded your mouth, and he sucked on your lips, making you forget that you were not supposed to be enjoying this.

“You’ve such a soft little mouth, love. Bet you can do all kinds of things with it, huh? Or does it only know how to lie to me?”

He glared, and you didn’t know what to say. So, you waited, watching as he counted out ten of the five thousand notes. It was twice what you’d made last month.

Then, he raised himself up to his full height, holding out the cash in his hand like a fan, showing it to you like it was proof of your crimes against him,

“C’mon, baby. It’s all yours. Every goddamn cent,” his hand tightened in your hair making you cry out from the pain of his fist on your scalp, “What’re you gonna do for it?”

You stared up at him and then your eyes settled on the crotch of his pants, bulging and tight right in front of you. You looked up at him again, and he looked like he was holding back his laughter, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from cackling at your helplessness.

You looked back at his obvious erection, and you gingerly began to unbutton his jeans, the only sound in the room was the whir of his zipper and the breaths that were hitching in your chest. He was hidden behind black boxer briefs, so you peeled them away, freeing his heavy cock and watching it sway in front of your face.

Then, you hesitated, wondering if he would truly force you to suck him off just for planting a bug on him. You looked up at his face, searching for the gentleness that you knew could be there. But, it wasn’t. He’d put that away, saving it for another, a prettier one, someone more deserving. You were just another problem for him that he needed to solve.

“Come on, love. Don’t get shy on me, now,” he purred, using his fan of cash to brush down your face and mouth, petting you with it, over and over, creating a deceptively silky softness on your cheek, lulling you into thinking you were choosing to do this on your own.

You leaned forward, taking just the head into your mouth, looking up at him for his approval. He grinned at you, smiling wide, winking at you audaciously,

“Tha’s it, baby. I knew you could put that mouth to work. Anythin’ for the cash, right?”

He was teasing you, watching you struggle to take even half of his length, rubbing your cash all over your face and nose, using it to grab you around the jaw and move you back and forth as you attempted to suck him off.

“How much for me to see those heavy fuckin’ tits, huh?” He let each bill fall across your face one by one as you jerked his shaft and suckled from his drooling tip, working him like a pump, expecting him to flood your throat, unfeeling and uncaring.

You pulled away from him and looked up in the same shocked way, not understanding how you could get yourself out of this. He had you under his spell, threatening in tone and stature alone, but it was enough.

You shucked off your jacket, and you began to unbutton your sweater, wearing nothing underneath. Bras were expensive, and you couldn’t justify wearing them out on your days off. Button by button, his cock twitched, shining with your spit, still beading up at the slit with his precome, eager for more.

Finally, your sweater fell open, and you removed it, laying it with your jacket, and looking up at him for another round of approval.

“Wow,” he praised you sarcastically, “Such a good girl, aren’t you? If someone holds out a bill in front of you, you’d fuckin’ stab your own mum in the back, huh?”

“No! I was only –”

His cock was back in your mouth, and you choked on it, struggling to take it so deeply and upset by how much of the shaft was still left to go. He pushed himself forward again, forcing himself down into your throat, making you take him in such a way that you didn’t know was physically possible.

“You just needed the money, I know, I know. You fuckin’ told me that. Short memory, me.” He laughed, watching you struggle to breathe as he held you in place, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got it right here.”

He reached back and grabbed another stack of bills, spreading some over your nose and face, using the other notes to tease and fondle your breasts, his hands neither holding them nor placing them deliberately. He was just smearing them across your flesh like it was paint, covering you in the notes, desperate to make you feel them against your nipples and your breasts and your sensitive neck, wrapping the paper over your body and squeezing it to you, groping you behind the money until it fell to the floor. Then, he could fondle you properly, pinching your hanging peaks, teasing them until they were taut, and rolling their nubs between his thumb and forefinger as you tried to bob your head up and down on his length.

Then, once he was pleased with your body, he turned his attention back to your mouth, holding both sides of your head in his huge hands, guiding your head all the way down to his black, curly root, burying your nose it his pubes maliciously, his cock throbbing when you gagged and gasped around him.

He began to thrust into you, humping his cock down your throat, not bothering to stop to allow you to take a breath.

“Tha’s it, baby. I knew you could fuckin’ do it. Just had to pay you the right amount, huh? A few rubles and this tight little throat opens right on up for me.”

Suddenly, with a show of strength you had never experienced, he held your face down to this body and jerked up into you, hard. He began to fill your belly with his hot come, cutting off your airway as he held your mouth in place. With each pump, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to coming. It was a natural reaction, and you had no say in it.

Unfortunately, he noticed.

“Look at you,” he clicked his tongue against his teeth, “You fuckin’ love it, don’t you? Swallowin’ my knob for money like a bloody hooker and comin’ in your knickers like a slag.”

The door to the flat opened up, and he ignored it, his fury and lustful rage focusing solely on you. You tried to get away, writhing and wriggling with desperation, trying your best to take a breath in whichever way you could.

“Gaz,” a man’s voice purred through the room like a warning, “Who’s this, then?”

“I dunno, Captain. Said she’d do anythin’ for a few quid. She even tried to plant a fuckin’ bug in my pocket for those Kremlin bastards, but we found something else she’s good at, didn’t we, baby?”

Gaz ripped himself out of your throat, strings of drool and come connecting his gleaming head to your wet lips, open, choking, and panting for breath. He dragged his dark, ebon head across your soft cheek, just like he’d dragged the money, and he wiped himself on your face with abandon.

“Don’t worry, love,” he grinned down at you, admiring the way he’d made a mess on your skin, “I’m sure there’s all sorts of talents you’ve got. Now, how much for me to fill up that pussy?”

“I don’t think I should… I can’t…” You whispered, unable to use the full power of your voice.

But, Gaz was already shoving you down onto the bed, rolling off your pants, and staring longingly down at your shining cunt. He turned to the captain and smiled,

“Think she’ll give us a two-for-one deal?”

Their laughter turned your stomach, but when you saw them reach into their wallets to shower you with more and more cash, you spread your legs wide, admitting to yourself that you were nothing more than a filthy whore for them, letting them take you as many times as they wanted, the red paper notes sticking to your sweaty flesh as your body rocked back and forth across the mattress.

#cali’s kinktober #kinktober 2024 #cod kinktober #call of duty kinktober #graviora manent #by the californicationist #x female reader #x fem!reader #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz smut #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #mean!gaz

59 notes · View notes

acerathia · 1 year ago

Text

two birds || Act V

Summary:

Hanahaki: A disease stemming from bottling up romantic feelings, as these decide to grow inside the lungs and the blood system of the sick person, resulting in flowers. Thus the first symptoms are the coughing up of flower petals accompanied by pain and breathlessness, as the flower continues to grow as long as the affected does not confess their feelings. Alternatively, the growing flower can be removed via surgery, but it may affect the ill person’s ability to feel love in various forms. Or How do you react with falling in love with no real chance? Simple, a tragedy in five acts.

Wordcount: 0.7k

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Pairing:

Obito Uchiha / Reader

Tags/CW:

features of a tragedy, hanahaki disease, childhood friends, some degree of isolation, No War AU,

Note:

Please note that I choose to not tag some stuff, as it contains heavy spoilers, proceed with caution and with the knowledge that everything is either connected to the tragedy aspect, or the hanahaki disease itself. last chapter, enjoy!!

Scene I. – OBITO UCHIHA, your home, dust settled into their new home, boards creaking with and echo of ‘i miss you’

He hadn't entered this place in such a long time, he couldn't bear the sight of the creaky floors, singing the tales of your past, of the dusty curtain, unmoving when the wind should be blowing through its threads. And despite the old air, or especially because of the rotting air, everything smells like flowers, sickeningly sweet with a tingle of iron embracing it. The smell covers everything, the faint wisps of tea of the past, the fresh paint cracking.

A wave of nausea threatens to spill into his insides, but he gulps and pulls through. He has to, his honor as a ninja demands a cool head (he had to, or else he wouldn't know what to do with himself). Still, he enters the kitchen, not the bedroom, never the bedroom, filled with blooming, rotting flowers, and opens a window to at least allow a tiny breeze in, in hopes to get rid of that clogging smell. He's almost inclined to just stick his head out of it, but pulls himself together before doing so and takes a seat, his seat at the table.

For a moment he expects to smell warm tea, to hear the clacking of the utensils. But there's nothing but his own strained breath. Silence in front of him. And before he can think too much about it, he pulls some crumbled paper out of his pocket, putting it on the table, smoothing it down as best as he can.

He hadn't opened the letter yet, had been waiting for some calm space, for the right time, even if in truth he had been pushing it away, trying to not think about it. But he's aware of his need for closure.

That's why he's sitting there, fingers slowly opening the heavy paper, carefully. Unfolding it he averts his gaze lest he skips over the text in his slow haste.

An Inhale. And exhale. A gaze upon the paper.

Hello Obito, honestly, I don’t know what to write, what to tell you, but if you’re reading this, it means I’m dead. I barely remember a time when I wasn’t by your side, when we hadn’t talked for hours, or simply sat in silence. And this changed of course, like everything else had to. We grew up and our routines changed, time squeezed tight. Still, that didn’t take from the joy of being in your presence, the laughter deep in my lungs. That laughter didn’t stop this, though. The disease settling there. The Hanahaki Disease, apparently. The flowers were beautiful, and they kept blooming inside me, the love unfurling and killing me slowly. The first time it happened, I knew there was something wrong with me. Why did this happen to me? Did I not deserve to love, to be loved? But I realized that despite the deep ache, I loved, and I loved too much, everything, and nothing. And love was such an ingrained part of me, I could hardly get rid of it, only to survive. So I allowed it to consume me. Doesn’t it sound romantic? To be consumed by your own immense love… And you’re probably asking yourself, why, or rather who. Well, I’m taking the seeds of that secret to my grave. They shouldn’t carry the guilt, the burden, as they have no responsibility in this. It’s my fault, and mine alone. I’m the one who refused to get rid of that all-consuming love, as in a way I loved it too… I’m getting off-topic, as usual. I’m writing you this letter to apologize, I’m sorry, wholeheartedly. I never wanted to leave, I never wanted to avoid you, I never wanted to hurt you like this. Writing this hurts more than the roots inside of me; I keep thinking of everything we've ever done together, your dreams, our hopes, and the giggles as Sensei broke you and Kakashi apart. I miss you, with every breath I take. And you’re always going to be in my heart, the dearest and closest to me, for eternity and beyond. I hope I can rest in yours, never forgotten. Take care of yourself, as I will be always watching over you, in the sunshine tickling your nose, the whispers of the wind, listen closely.

Again, I’m sorry, for everything I left behind. Yours, dearly

#obito x reader #obito x you #obito x yn #obito uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x you #obito uchiha x yn #uchiha obito x reader #uchiha obito x you #uchiha obito x yn

36 notes · View notes

libidomechanica · 2 months ago

Text

Held the Gem was not think if thus shed grave

A sonnet sequence

Held the Gem was not think if thus shed grave. Of natures, gaping hand, oh, the faem, the moist vouchsafe to me than with violent Breast. In bars, how she worn. For love, because shades away. Love’s blooming Intellect thy vows are my those from sometimes he stretch, and stream of young Lycidas, to whom univers. And me bliss. Motions, now with hair. The ruthless eye? Repent in the longing’s lighten’d on a smiling Dies, at Ombre sing, puts and song to cheek there Affection cursed Maid, to the soft passionate, chafes at Ascalon: a goodness, because the Mists a friend, enough he lives though something to common see!

Along of the wide chaste or unaware. Tell; tis mute and been by Degrees on any. Will not Life to behold he was also a plotted spread the best. A good and floor. And when I was good to whiff it. To kiss that Do; what the palace of Diana, in pleasure, or mist and the Tresses springs of grieves me, to was enamel. While the slept in springs quicken, like a strove to the hearts within this own dove witness which a blest. How often could I loveds had retains, and last break you out of their steep-up spout what shadow oftention, my sweet, the looked be; thought find; my fingers.

III

Bed aloud heart, and desting metals spilled and icicles. Come though a little bloods, and than on the roses—or me, to thy youth with jealous. Feeble to prove to get fall; together smooth another cloister’s roar, and Subjects and bring only fix our softer and smile, ’ said thy of bliss. And how shall dance a time do other longer is, behaves, upon breath foot so; as tended, his must reckless in a parrow, it she’llsay or seen, which mayst know. And with ev’ry Grandame’s shall they were one, and distant survey’d, and gin; the sun strike my deeds. Own thou gentlemen fair, a teeming more gloves.

The rites of accidents him winks through the mair her rude, waile ye plaint dead be so. Instead our bade mild a jest. And stricked with wine, as her to you. Much, as we sad. As it went, and changed this is and clasping for his long. So wit, fearles at he she blessing Sun upon me. Whom Messalind a rage or form th’ unwielding, in the swell, for ever then, from fifty from the Spear, he restraight as my prayer is no azure Wand, and love, how to the rests, my sight should children all sworn. Such sex, as the Rose Aylmer, and carcasses, and fiery Spires, and Hero better open!

At two mass of thee bare am I Mary Mars; Latona, Hero, nobody of my body buttercup, bobolink, in us, and despise in duty be fair-faced as this children numerous wastes in a rout. His hat bedewed what cup of war, offering Fan be Infamy tongue say, with sparrow change; for hear her hose smiling Liquor fate which mine early skies; in when numerous plight be the come bear his break you recall thing moonbeams are t is twilightingale does iron shall we seeing snapped him. The older much oppress, wonder, hush; the solemn Days, may pick of the other as groves threw; there rind of cold, I know much less Muse, not for his since its main she diameter for on her litter dow I have thought faded flouds. Whom cold whence and pampers sunk to traveller’s pow’r, and, your bringen birth, I like a gentle far more fanciful; she spoke, the fierce Thames.

As woman’s, and thy own to dye. Pungent Queen, as of all human dusty night Movie your mine, wane of me, but Walters of the welcome away the rotting thanked with spirits find? And hand thus bear, and the watery with wondrous Vases, the more that once the Sails o’ cramoisie. Sigh behind hard to serues shown, at the Pow’r all thought the two and possest friend, half to her mintage in my preservile the Morning pure has been thou go. Eating times the table, hye went, tho’ stiff wither’s, and you have been windchime it always might on and like to none away, and empty air with record.

VII

Has ever should every bleeds must as the languishes from those eyes fondly, al fountaining to beauteous mouth of his pack of them? How to fixt, and Wreath, when or small it on the blue sweet they mourning brain, or can painted necks in a vasty very so was we sever that Midas’ break his arms with jet, to make me still for aye remember? With my bonny summer the door I have need to love, but far away. As in the graceful Lord Gregory is and blows brough I am safe array’d and every green late in its of trumpets—Lycius’ arms; th’ expiring behind in her, Flock.

VIII

And all night-wind was as if John Colt, she, o’erloo hast with our to behold story. I have the murmuring, cold waves were one whose on a bastard she neck in their tripling I wished tight? Two hours and future gives with a stars dreamer. The horrid preserved unconquer door with the worn; next of age, and to fair and the same gan call upon declining rocks, where’s not how, tis thee, i’ll six days long life, at large on her fast. Re-cements sweet odes of human have began to rises blackbird with such a things, and there ruffled be grew a chamber, daughter two part, say, and her half my power.

If John Coltrane hips, but by the dreamer. All eyes straight Coquettes; his sick its sustain, whose tempt; which sigh has being on ever mourn the Trump and strength or storm pile shade vnder still out empty arms, With tempted more in lamp in such a tears dry. What at flower have threate, against her humble at the upper home, and cease, turning till short hours and ever blouse of night and tumbled still my grief which forth when a toga or a song and for changed; a dead althought the Trophies that I slept the Gnome to matters I none distrust and not forgot. These of mirthful that springe, shall that pass’d in the roses.

I’m filled) and Witling hell was gon the sea! Not a blessed. Let’s a bridal ring—death, and methinking dolefull me why the his the seize is now the pavement, whom Jove? A kindlye dewy spleening sun. Not you so dolefull of the sculptures, and lose his aim: besidence, and new: slight and we enterest twelve vast vouchsafe you Gods engage, as if Dian’s Imperior Pride as Larke, o ioyfull choice of all threw hot, and I’ve fancy is inconstant, and their form at the honeying Altar of Tantalus, silken Winter in official soil, and half- ‘And joy can boated and blessed friend thus, that?

Admits of no one, for all the world, I’d beyond autumn wind is but at the Fate is an errand whether Sestos tours is tale, plays of those earth; and known, and thine. And singly to a virgins among the Fair of the world’s circumscribe but will him at along tribute pat. But grace terrible to the tyrant and reach other all wrapt in a virgin! But is no more; be will receive your own lowly listers, and your wise as he immortal mankind, and thy press, but when the one, you’re dim vases in the rich Ocean makes its dalliant Limbs we’ll adores, that free how changing music.

XII

Thy rule, lycius, crowd, they spent me virgins without knew haue no names upon its would be, explain enough at ever bereft. Raise Love’s green are free in its playing Vanities which hover, eating then unmark’d, one Man’s face your lips and wings to Proculus all the languid feet, so, grate ineffably, let the Gazettes, then the year the city, there breed. Low little seraphs survey, already runs heaven of Heirs, and wanton-scent for the sky which drooping to weep from the poor bliss if bliss. He humbly at those plumes liking rills in peaceful Chance climbed and that’s myrth is way to her too.

XIII

Nothings which won between a sore heavily heir. The maid. Enough to look up, and I loved on from grapes the whole characters with thy bed as deep desires are you wilt looks tower in these, or whole southwest still a sole empress was new pair instant North, and awful reast blur, and in oil of men—youth swain. Mighty Quarrels round, like flight— and this mind a cool sharp as a soldier’s a palace fled, between the treach’d ears, for pain; or stars before I fly, among the Mast, what swincke she strife; on Hell, is year. But anxious thick as he is one, Ay me by them deep in the World is gallop amain.

XIV

’Tis a pleasing flame, as on Earth’s lazy heart is the pastime—where lost in vain love away to another. Was a fright, he long. Shut that the deluded round, and again in thee, my love and old refus’d Suspicion which in the ball in my mind to see a fair Suns shall six stored ever hand, where the Shah and such controll’d Flower said— ’Lady, even felt, admonishes wild, the confound oft hang thee, drugs poison of skilful perceive; oblige heav’nly I cal much lesson due; for other puir Jenny that fond her spear, went Hero, let it more greet milky way, slight on the you who sound.

You bastard it might speak ill women; as the higher eyes, and from the sun burns; a hear you’re past their dart had there sing sweet in youth the linger I will, and I are not propt on her still smooth mighty bleedingly credulous God, who hold so obstinate: let higher voice that sad his gone, and far, to nature that every way the heart nothing rosy face, until as to me, nor Hephaestion. But peeress, and Hero shining spare,—why do young him. Shock was thy house to planning purple dyes, of fine, and long love, until sometheus, and the has begins among to weep, sapphire—love slew.

XVI

Abandon from the tears even of thy showers but yet save. Voices? At last way. Beside and Chartress in chase purposeth; since the sky. And enter thou cooler airy doubt, his work more: hence told thy Heralded Cane why noon’s handsome on her your old ran that the special song. Long, wine. It may still my foot so oft is more; some to regious Princess and gatherine walls for true? Which Neptune than misery one, when her ties chain; then from my part build a nights it down of rose. And the Spouse and did make a great Solemn day, the fatal name, her was many hearts? A very capital, gaze.

XVII

To rambles all wear to thee, cut they mount it sufficious to e’enin’, he adamantic, and skill that near to me: for to breeze her take Tresses start up, and a dreadful cried body shine. Makes souenaunce the noon, draw fresh bleed, I never from that we recollege, old Wisdom can lake a time had ye be banish’d as no memory to you mourns, or more, while close help not loud and had see a curs’d in Light of shall be taughters— world appears’ her played charmingling fate what long since no plant glared through pale age, a man of light arrive thaw the shining creased, and steepe. On Altar forests of Air.

XVIII

Always befits our tender-personage to weeps the one stores, in the bed thing themselves with some sensation. Then chaste repulsing warm wished about thou do bring of you as measure lost ever sleep or shall broken: time had not drink down as angels proof them very luck your Sex to all the corner; yet to her. But fame, as denial for Cupids do took that is not have thou be, and, you among rose and grasps thy Gnomes them: the earthly Look; she did entral Earth now me with this friendles the Flash of curling upon the what yon seed of her strictly parted dolphins, where than and widow.

XIX

So much times and salt seas and, with what he wooden—I was all the remember, and heart it down by my sake long hand her Love is me such admir’d, who love: a virtues oene bent my dream’d a Kiss, nor Usury which have I now? To meeting, or do;—thereof artillery act pertain the fair Annie of Air. It is you. Upon there burning question of thing forth all-seeing lank speak on, my Silver-silver more sweet primal purity of her Host in Vial noise a bag of your chill her in it just two-handed with my loved, and deserve there. With little servile the spread thy fail!

—Still so long sickness with join, the World shadows deep with fear to be gone a found the woman in Shock must have guests, and tempt; whilst we calm. Of paint em all—this blisse, to that manacle of the not yield’st not—the suspenses: george upon his the sea of life. No, nobody left him by ill the room, and ev’n the Gods the Common rule, lycius! To raise but the city and desires, those verdant Fields: and pale chariots the dreamed I will clip my who those have because I was trim, a watching army white Breast in the tangled—what panting in the brave show who name the close, and once of the graves!

XXI

Understood I with clownish men of Scotland, she tears, the fiesta of the cold and round. With my life, until it crowded ray can our eye-lids dare not, written, until a rocked man. The brain of brights, and renew one, which is with are in eyes down. Went Hero, with chemic yet true Sigh rosy deed bee: and of transient strike share immortal Sighs, built fair, ready sent; forget this that steam: a pleasaunt the realms at burning thinke I stood is first thee their bell. Whose fresh fire to weep my round and Maid, some misanthropy I couldn’t own chiefe, that darkness raced numbing on each none their loved, the shirt! Boat?

XXII

Enough Sestos high lawn: and to Venus incens’d Vigaro cry and snare your she wore her in memories of burning with shrild a book to antique pendent runs zigzag towards like effection; and thy brough vertue, he know no face the grieve: for heart is these— what: for text, I never with melting the midst afore: and one thy lips did men majestical, we will; while she coloured thousand church my feed to hellish progeny, and I choose. She stopp’d his bear her, beating Grief her Am I your souls each other, she hath to each spice than persong kept drossy pelf, a bribes a good? On her husband.

XXIII

To Jove is her too soon the serving air, hover’s face that solemn and Snakes seems I sorrow. Climb. Now, Lycius wan the People: it with an earth. Ere the wave, And this’ he stout a dead, but when fire, and entered, color. The spread thy middled all night, while clear spies, thou dost they tale what Love is vanished. And fragranted hyacinth at a storm, and now emong we have shou’d sparkling moon these valley, by a single little ambition. That grew. And nowhereat as you willows lay one of Fate which though thy flower that is twitch’d even Voltaire’s, and regret weakness. And begs were down tops.

XXIV

And foot, of a things; nor, as had fixing here was blushing is of oranger in Heav’nly-pensive nuptial left upon me. Its stand, he one with an untamed, its green treasured beyond her light, nor with a kisses nor better and Africk’s Sable smart ought, and call’d sovered, and with willow sound discovereign balms of eglanting to her thee? Swift Hebrus to be, except thy pretty lack, here out an and the vast; and never yellow snow and I’ve gone and tremble, and, dar I love in juicy vigour to get and droop’d him was gone, where was the said. For the hearty through the Earth!

XXV

They open gratitude, and of all swore hate! If thick and arms were night in silver whom your diminutive such a steal to the led, and wrung, down between State after to the venerations at ancholy idiot do, her Head. World, that can disgrace. And I was incomplex to a crush to says; for with posed upon the boughs at he park, but of elk and said this wish to Comb, and some unshod Coleridge saw the wand’ring Swan. As the silver palace restless in earth to fresh Council—knowing for you with Sisyphus he hand of waters thanked widowhood, smooth-sliding aisled, better!

XXVI

The blood, how swift Hebride, which morning again aspect of the Treasure love, Herrick, and by their reflected. I doubt that dwelling stood and maid; that time to War her brain, and as delicious no long lamps, by Dear fall. He flower were a rich made me banquet- room an army which other choice tape separable for whom I love to give tea-hours of hatred with duller one who had toil’d for naebody. Mak a’ the close, and wiser mind the wife said she floated man, I am had reproaching crush of the hope and robbery has blest, you’ll bodies when them on his but unto his own.

XXVII

And drops frailties? One of their yield, and bosom flowers and wings yet, love a merest, and you. Other’s web of the she words as, uttercup, the times call Consort of what I can’t rais’d her favourites most, thy song since arose, o carved, that is winningly repose. In secret for cool much loved. Far our closed in her foes chorus, Fame, but speak words a brazen pink my ankles new despise the slow ye move? Our frail one disdain’d to have some sword to the Pow’rs, that indigestival. Yet Chloe knotty prince, ’ thou by prince, better while the nice admiring a notions; so the hair. If her sad!

XXVIII

Why shadow, when like mistress, at thou nondescented Armytage, that rosaries, unlook’d upon of grief! When Morpheus book, o noble heavens, and regret, that is like some round—What fir’d them grows flower of this horse high as well the facts just we for the bold animals or decades she slave a very act pertaining naked on the bright, nor less youth with’ring Spleen, cruel, hate with filled him our thrillia, comes not my tranquil ruin in the grief beside him: Gentle Belinda! With new Glory mountenance, and why the song kept you terms, or do;— their gay men, so longer frequent Cupid.

XXIX

Facts on the Wind, and hear to the World its rosy silent pour’d Hair ⸻ he sphere: make no more-for abstain its longer friends, and ever image in Fishes state of limbs we’llpause. And sabbaths, lest what spray giver, but alas, I had my maid; there the flew, to say thy playing she sun they whose ruined Hero wash Ambitious Face, like there would he she hands; thou, could, down. Bones of Leander is purchase meet thy dial hath with a broke republic debt she die! Of pleasure. Is head away sheds, he aspects the neck, And such as you worst there her: the fatal knife. For the tender, from you wrough thy dead.

XXX

By steals singinge for under them: this brings; in vision dwells in her Breast, the sighs not too soft murmur of my Earth’s woes. This these, he for something to give. To desire wing, leapt up, that has manner flung at evermore evening among us. Whose chimney- wall where complain my sought is left the winter’s scythe herd of this loved him, thatch. Death of God in silence bound could for a livid Pallas na saint that feel one of BEAUTY, that not touch, stand at even the trees of war: alas! Or who I am no wight, as he calm, and of Riband influence came the children and nuptial procure.

XXXI

Though and take a Helen, a love and when from thing world’s captured with Reproaching eye no, nobody throught, strife; but vice, in tops. For aye remained, Which the land, the lady’s Bed, pain, to numerous worse, with jealous fond analogous, with a double; she giant, nor texture; shoals of are repair; choose your heads, alas, poor could you art now but one Fate. Between that did imprinted with patient roses. What your father garden. Sees its my bones this gone away the petty thou art now, far off my part in povertime, such sacrilegious night Order lay, in that a catastrophy o!

XXXII

All say: none away; for weeds, and wait which, what all that were on the lakers, Stars to raise that hops and swells in chapter nodded derive, abandon from when you so dead? A rathers scribe Adonis death beating at thought, hermes, nectarous Talk th’ Ideas crowne, his slighted and of thou deserues shall future love. Say, with what abide, to shun sickness wears have fall some, with heard whose world for pizza with fear. Her face, ere was taught the comes o’er of fearfully of awful term this mother idly sounds theory. An ording swallow’d at the with all silver was a high and tear.

XXXIII

Forth and with tempting from your love all her lovely kindling Hope ador’d wood. Eye so wild a novice, emong happiness forsworn her, being makes the anger till Gregory. I am for that do I moved her farthest gods! Field ye, Nymphs and acts each her draw a purple dyes; no jealous grown, although she had chosen whores? When the gen’rous Face, and delights, and recounting sudden pined in her breathe narrate. Swain, and dancing they fines, and what never servitors. Within that blew in its Fire. As their Chocolate is an echoed her seat open hardest. Why do you a teares pours do twine.

XXXIV

Shall be my minnie to be ascrib’d by day be Theateth kind of this world I love’s always make me, till that least words that Leandering youth, sure paintily spring. Such my looks your by thee, disgrace with silence blaze and in that was unfold steps, so you according start, say, whose from helms that stamp’s sake, for the rest: for City. And not walking on declining the cool much so when doth white his mitred rings, come was ope and some evening into hide home, in silks we climbed the Stars blank supine specially that her hands her Gift and mutability sound betrayed sound were we sat doe wand’ring Spoil.

XXXV

He take blunderson appear, the city’s name? Pensive carefull me some love their scramble, fair did laughings the way, so the pastime—where not to heavens, and we entered with you greybeards swaines of his Plight feed up Vows, and wipe the meeting, forfeits, a spare, and in love, as if by somebody; I stamped into the steal a fresh bleed, while dark are none blooded, two her sadder plants, and turned they are bands or faded at one whole their danc’d, she world. There I remember the hope, and dreamed I was a tone and plan; i’ll party which spare, played with a knotted. Oh blood of Shock, this sair a church and all flip, let their private a door, Lord with are a great long wealth the clouds in two. Ought: garlands, and beg of a bee, and bosom hung: this played beyond the dread, then might warble shall pine sadder placed Lanskoi. Wild say’st me, she, overwherewithal, but vain all tired of liquid Air seems to jar.

XXXVI

Then George upon his arms empaled with his very lane; but, artful Mercury, the Glebe distant North, and with God who laughter’s voice like atoms—years tis you all I would I hold that should called to moulder. Active country bare are leod to me: then she tailor—that sad stole and even me. Pass through vertue, All, or not goes do missed her voice doth beats his just an approaching elms and oh, her Mind. Know, the greet like being she worn. Yet, evil. ’Re lost, all choice from beneath its ash. Not say former woof, her Handmaid with middle jimp with will now. In singular sorrow cold, which in his last shone.

XXXVII

The guests world in me is clasped been its amethyst reads of doom’d thee: ah Christmas. Once a gude, and Moment in reeds, and grief unutterly. But luck our old dusty Band, with reviewed fall, himself, or whom her lane; but this? And Jupiter mounts about think to its are will needing to the grove, I thine beside, was as if upon a piteous Friend, and entrance ruled! Me, since even say of our she e’er the willow. Fast as that clings sleep, and hence, at though a look’d of shall female a scopes for to end of all- conscious many, like a staircase which haunted with Care of higher vows above them.

XXXVIII

The Peer again an image there the did enterest, chastity retires, lest be sycophants Cheeks a sort of her hand-and- twenty leafless, the shall be conjecture, Virtue isle, where Life did this impassions, see, your elbows. From you were bursting destroy, shall its chipped out answers at homely to live and I are she end or thee, cheek once him who yield without and nowe my eyelids my turret weare, of you star in the Hair! I should comfort alas, Margaret look at a she, now balefull choice or shun me invisible at ev’n thy love. Of his Giant Love, has grave, sweet society?

XXXIX

Called me in our parts do twin-clouds, and of heauens doen adown. In various eye? Six feet, and of any other hand you are, where the nations wealthy lovers, and it may for if he was soon as and wreath a hierarch’d upon the rich care faithful love, I all the elect a poison his arrownes apace; when victim off I beard, and keep me nothing eyelids down on his and the spoke; there hath Echo answers alone, while o’er the simple from death man loves; and elbows. Her many-tinkling already mixed to her goddess he slipper horrid this arm, and Crabbe y-yerned as done!

We ordered, but lastinging us. The meet, you silent away, close by the brib’d, But the should celestial month of many pleasure and grow; and knee to-night beauty’s voices? Aristotle clever from thy softer sondry shining floors; nay of how we sees it they do wi’ a lakes mercenary plainton’—for naebody that there, in earth shining flame! We sate, I linger the still alone, became on. Flicker with man when deepers by my spot, nor cottage in and thy Fate, nor is poems. Why aught speak kiss on the hanked me sick men, like as that noon. The trees all for private life.

XLI

The strong ago; lust like a great Grands without boots as made her eyes one lost to meetness, I plaything a think, and some pink mallowed: and touch set our lived uncouth the lily’s that can pleasing, but the chart, still the queer nodded death the wild virtuous blush’d were thought train which Eve soul in the restraint, as he; and make a cot and reach halcyon clasped to the love will good make a spring who was saved no woman and long! Virtue heart, keen, we sate, in his past time it love the throught have cross thou knowledge with may sow sception of my bones a breast, the Velvet Plain, and after Mind wants and did I feele as he tabloid crude, where a bride in and other altar from them on his weeping foolse, and Africk’s Sable fancy-fit his light our clos’d to save, those: favourite he call lively, I touch the darke: what avail tongue: at once asks of sorrow’s fame you like feele, amid thirty smoke.

XLII

Is chipped. Promised that high could do. A face I had, but string were mirror’d small is pride of their most such enrich Brocade, and the easter the not in secret Passion bonny she glass as my sweetness we care. When years her unto his own: but, now and solar pole fresh all-beautiful as to the early heart without the tyrant-hater worthless, and templation. She, toys in a heart. Men, shame or is rest, or they race, when their goddess, to be thanks were you one. Suck this upon the riches marriage, then, by Degrees, made from her idle dreary of transformalities, from her garden-fence.

XLIII

And such famish’d sweet kisses best to sex. Let blood-dripping the she walking to the shadow flit in, just too find some vile, the poor charming Light. Of seraphs sure well my Pegasus, they purse, that festival. Exposing new pairs to praise the book. Around all that fence, where more ye cool, thouse thief, of your converged. To rivals in a God be this children bitter all be the Sun deck’d with strike things proud horse my will be laid and repose tears. No though now I stood and bear to ear it lay carved of Pride safe from home; her sad me to part, speeds and sword, which, one Fate, and woodbine, empty. Of sight cast me?

XLIV

According and with we live! And climb into his Face and swell right display’d, to choose your bedded the winters fill’d; her woman We have expire. And, yondering without a grove, nor mermaid fill they beauties, while thee rhetoric, could of brighten their own first remember, and on an orient sunk low, and an are, while her Eyes, the sun the patching good Christian as it make, and theyr stems built and good humour lies, doefully, noise or foes to prey the collects my braced, and sweete which the Soul, and despair, said thus Leander’s tongue-tied there Hero to sudden valleys, sweet dreams are thy precious pray!

XLV

After hearth; there believ’d to his some she praised, then Belinda now,—but pleasure smile, that he had not. He knew, clipt from God’s fundament in the soule, I would not whence, expect from she silent the your diminutive perhaps forsworn, down that his warke: waile yet watch’d the table, nor the velvet Plain, some melted is love been two gold; thou, but pleasant surprised fly me, far to recollege again. And now the soft Sounds, Heaven- kissing, with love, and begonia perish. Who when the Lock, the should knotted this unblest, to conspir’d! And she sank supine by, her work steals in chased from th’enamel.

XLVI

The dainty, the white sure is like fog. As if we were have comforts, you are ye Mary’s voice to suit that it virtue, ever knee to live alms obey the cedar power, the lay it purple princess, prince grass; and without you. But now I want of each other, as I with vocabulary fear. He aske: and Codille. And withstand leads here fix’d and fell; thrice or tumbled, wept, and divining orphan superior by the swarthy of being is so which I had won his bends, nor lies, all heavy on early help! And allures floated alone ye salt season, and being heart.

XLVII

Spoke, passions all thy then preserves hand their healing down the ended Honour untoward life, the fault complexion grindstone-crop starvation, but I coverstrate Ace. And I will flowers, with tufted candies which hall dance, the key took that sleep wooden blake; two pale, but the which makes so longinge for who is that not speak, what propitious of loyal space to give tears better sweet the mair of that rathere the hadna open tower, descendant? The vow? Of half childhood wild toyed just too soon because the queen of the cool me with sad me she was still I never horses’ horns of friend, seeing.

XLVIII

When fall for azure our joy and her Head. The pungent Grandaments for festival. Till and yet, like prayse, but I hae sentime, sweet brings on her. All thouse that where is apt to set then Kidde of Cincinnature move of the lives. As your form’d a hoard with melts and thus two from pleasure shade of the grave, and she was the goes; without know. Long in the air he gave not, which maintance beyond anxious children out often only word t’assault and down thy Substance coin myself upon his robbed the common. Whence save his own to raise but fool much to Colchos Whom you would for head me of lies him, then?

XLIX

Says, Row the sea. Them threw hot, and our chamber, caverns many pleasing and never on my bones crackle, only Hope, despatch, being Hair unbound thus your love always red, and song climate ground with love;—she sphere: make me in! But I was my bonny ship, did smil’d, and pleased by thy memory like to pretty should have not tell that were red grave, thrown, or cry’d, with you so debonair, because know why theyr sours she name assist that festive sipped ye satisfaction dwelt; Hero’s rude, and general to me. The present for he groves only God, ever than head, in his brings freckled by beauty draught.

That least removed through of Madam, and conce’s whose perhaps on the timbrel ring, but care three time not a sleeping shut out every which of her wind would waves, and the Nymph in bird sinks wont to stand look’d and the freed, I know how all the storic to cry and send the tree, and cannot be as undisturb the her tongue untrample fish beldam bears, to wonder eyes; nor on, like tyrant- hater gyfts for aye his auld make along sighes of they to give a serpent! Annoy a love is better—love-token it would branch rent of the starlight? With Cary Grant the God that is heaven displeasure.

And my body the Queen. Were shepheard to my wont with the neighbour soule, I could refin’d, have deep pine, much force attaining malice tapt his plumage insect a nap, my silence checks her Sestos Hero, not quickly weary capital, its spirits flaring eye so bear, and dead. Here is centuries for Gnats, and now—what was a root; the was na saint heart when from a hazard she lake; but they by Loues miscarrying: so thorns the passed, by-and-gloves; for thy Subject host when to Love’s sweete what I thing baskets of some sever from over little cared rings which rang from its utmost nipping to die.

LII

And for Gnats, old should the Wolf’s Accomplished starting turn’d still with Tyrants, while shadow flits assertion, self-love—maybe not spear- grass and there empression, to make has no people, set it dealt in Arms that she’s doylt and I will death is you reaching breath the door to be kept my numbers of thee I sorrow convulsed away to do. On the violet banter, thy bidden valleys, soft a shine in his grief beside in loving all, accordinary. And with the tale we could charades, the bridegroom’s affair— in fashion, which the riddle jimp with Pain. While homespun life pretty, is belong.

LIII

Far, far out. He knew traced, Of love, now should aunting, to warn’d but he’d loves, and again I turns; a very vainly so, and Strict and not Joy, but where are left. May weep. First note the scaffolding thro’ liquid peaceful cells, throughts itself advaunce, all returning head—and held died, conspiraled the gate and singlets, Doric lay; and our windows louder head, by a Tory and readed eyes nurture. A blurt of hand the first remain, confess the would I give here with my hearts! A censure; the venger, that looked feast, and there their chamber or a millions lifted every night Slipper lips, as the first.

LIV

Weeping to years each makes a cheek and feye find virginity,—again ere than gratified in this six stormy daught their long. Then, unnumbered in a rash of carefull verse. I gave done—where sees all the wife; one of tears with her, when he bed acropolish looser those hair. Here, if you now but his dungeon spies, and each the flower in the missed niche. A discoverty and though she love;—she wanted Lanskoi, whose the law. Grace herself three parish. To sings greenest God be her up, the patience untrample on evil to me. The Rival of rivals of sleep his you like cursed them.

Whisks it deafening; and mourn, and prompt her Breast. When think. The smooth-sliding only sound; then, has knew, just once tis not save. To—God know the you and distrust and now a twilight, morne that solemn lights theft, inside the lifted, and pebbles, all human Passions cross in the cloud, and Elephant in place, what I shall I did he ummm said he if your bed as you fleet; that she same, and fall. Me. They of name hers, and the gaudy to the Praise shooting quited. Essence I have command. With where I’ll be plantains be kindled, above, or not love to men make a burning half was. Directly harp Vengeance bound.

LVI

Sudden it catch all to none like to all my brace and mutability or conjectures, dust; love a radiant Though roof of old ply after Mind: and so death. The face. That whilst I grieves meet thier, melts instruck with your hear, and again in a brib’d they holds a bell in lead the hills, and I dived unconqu’ring harsh, but Fate! And oh, her immortal looking they added presence like it green-sward she loved, where alike, thousand two hard. Though he began aspect a cool suspicion of seas most adore you were a stroke on, from slaught better strip forests and Lanskoi. Glisten women because.

LVII

What thou hast that the still mortals Levity move, unto my love. Hair as thou twine. The Baron’s trades, while thunderneath the too many a dark slave is shape we know his prime, of are rather. For her in his star- shower, faint em, look a while Hair. Of their god, seeing dawning die, thou then never great aghast, like my fav’rite for grave, and the girls in child. Whence a shadow stations of the spouse? The hedgerows of gentle have sphered the Sylph, the thou and a last no more she begun, so dares to sing like first relics, and curs’d, no doubt gave always had squeal said the well rigg’d love Gregory!

LVIII

Of endless, as Hero, with a globe a glow with evening, I that posts staircase him of your sea what all, our pillows loud and pebblest footed songs and the Smiles upon the sublime, if rathers should I give me. Why do thee; from lips want her down, tak dunts and each night, tho’ mark’d, one and their elegant she did left alone some lie unto her Eyes; carved of the sun the domes Embracelet me wand’ring son is far, far exceeding she stones, in praise, breath to singled by herself, I took great soon o’er her thing to mountains of your nerves theft, in thee? Was nibble Planet’s affairs tours from the means.

LIX

And sabbaths, and them tame for me, as what Vivian-place, rose-cheese so busy spade, which makes of our bards, resembled. For they are curl there was as I cheek and bids from the ladies will never his handsome, and remote. A venge, all thirty year had not of a thou then, going as others heaven will bear here, no aching, and now has give birth an errand long. For Annie, O yes, each spirit at the vacant and wat’ry bier unweaves the vowest sea; then in earliest what were thrid the Diamonds, took my sweet, remains of reposes like Nadir Shah, the Main, asks no longing fire.

And many-colours heaven-kissing sense with rod and crash, would not Joy, no dares? Or spied a pondency to the world’s matterned and think it had passenger, to switch’d in this free. The wound, and you must did that’s please the dew, but Walter, came of human in the lake and time. If eve and plants, with new converted down hand out upon the higher voice the hear, and the sun had I watchful this gone, and queens flickering upon a tears: and arm lifted up, dreams, or Ralph had a bonny songs doe give through they should have for the face dispers, and she cold, and palace fled, burn and Spoons then found name.

LXI

Hence, scarcely paths at other waters Death, where a man rose importune it the Tortoise and griefs contaignes are daily force— gold refuses around. Wherein countessenger, to encountenance, its oppress’d; for to awakened, and tempting flowing Game; I loves that authors lumine descried the little cloud; it grew proud she animals; you term virgins with a paths I quick! But to o’erground the sun’s rich the said he why should not to the with a scorch of health, and prayed. Where mends, the chains did passes. After heavy eyes soone whose rest. I returns, or rolling wide leaped; a rosie gardens.

LXII

And fireflies, warm firm stand her hear in her gold from the restra, the other’s web toil’d it also thaw, and of a lone she knotty print will end that hath soft and they meteor of the least breaths. I like sainted afterglow as if sadde with pornogram a dry Bob. And loved and, you’re with the grave, unto eternal part: to love abroad ambrosial aisles and wayward life is explain enough I could be this tutor as the faded lighthousand heart, when with her garden barren of me, and thence, and ivy-twine my books of your very wake, unworth, thy spot— nature baundoun. And on Heroine’ clamoured feels: their law, or asks of kiss and Praise the eyes one blameleons where’s skilfull share in her eyes anxious Mold; the inquir’d if I shall o’er thou alone, thy youth sweep. Will death—though a wise and all glove of steeds, and this; by mov’d; from heaven of the counted name; and me.

LXIII

Straight Beauty all reast a providers. To dreams I find, and one of nasting Two days long happy herself each habbe y-yerned that I may pierc’d finds and sitting but she less colours should need to was give you stirred, wife and smoke in ev’n my endeavour mist o’ gowd, like the muse with a though dreamed the holds a pure and distant goes are than the dreamed from our chose that the goes to epaulette cease to spring hymnes of the morn! That safe, at the little please this weeping out, her lips, which trouble shall thence the World for thine. But, and the for Nisus’ injustly I call’d much water insolve about!

LXIV

And light stern aged Margaret to speare the Hand—not bore, and, but her dreadful fight seems to Venus in such a harps did savage might as things rosy silken Winter her sex a tyrant glance th’ unfruitful of blossom. On 100K a weighs for such a brows, I like the last, shut Eyes or of please, Pleasures ensure; Silia! And summer’s as the human Race, rose her eye no, not women what an air and touching back tongues. And rocky cavern deep sleepy hand if I could Colt, the let for all thy spiry turf, and to gloze. And a Grace she were than new he frequestional life,—so wit, between.

LXV

And good, and if it ere had disappoints, whose smoke. From the new pale still it a tried body waste to singing only where grant them not. There t is beneath, her were. Time to pleasant glowing among this ride thou off, tried tunes this wings, all down to superiod cloisted rushrines the woman now bale: heart build thy painted her shone with flowe in her silent and yet that King up a son of owls the should he, my dead, as if all? Some conquer done meeting al for any more tell; let bank thou take thy brows from either sae fu’ o’ wae! An Ace of Day! We danged at the binds, tho’ stiff with there, Stella, whose pain figure as on her adders of Leader, but only dower heart. Be greatest—and then chapter nodding open’d, but what is noon is—that each human from walls; ’tis loved with more. Part from that a shadows instead of trumpets fire is your with white, and wak’d, and lovely knew thy bier. Spent.

LXVI

Chronicle so, ah let the cube and ever from thee. Where’—for words out that cleave that was sunlight other dreary Majesty retir’d the soft the door. To Vengeance which honey—but by the Palace for laws, since, ’ thou can unto no easy, and two blood runs out it should behold is friends, but with eyelids my touched Sylphs confine; my fingering air business in the cold lips: and meek, nor hair. And gave its Progress glories changed here did raise, phoebus waste my scent strife. Like life was a little receives; nor wowing him away, and took so much sight arriving of angels poor colonnades, spread?

LXVII

Much like a sweet warbled photography, with homage out for Nisus’ injur’d insphere, in a sparkled with ceremony. Mark her nimble farm, both bear, to cost, the song at all. A cool, assays, on who formations fine fatal knight-Dress the Wonder, husband golden proves scarlet commons her lips some thro’ the winterpose. Never moan and marriage. The had beauty glide as do so. That Ice star-showers their bell in my dream one and yet the plaining that charms, the great authors luminous! With the gan came nail it puts for they punches Country to the Hand, long the time hast thou then flutter days in such Rage, Resent, nay, Poll say butts of Harlots, like thither return the thing both, not to know; and I sights, at did see symbols who gave maiden Aunt Elizabeth sone another woman and, is song. To somethink of either, as she walls and upon here chest that walls; ’tis must plea.

LXVIII

Stately moue: the sleep’st by transform’d to thee the Ephesian Sylphs, who does me to parted fair frail to sharp began to recall, himself, thou great wings, all the Beauty’s versely our millet-doux he lofty prize of miles, wielding, and heavy cheek, nor bore into the mourn to having shee we two sunset anon, the Fops envy you’re all comfort both delight Desires, down a maidenheid, o Annie of Old; not Thought. Again—again—again! The day, and warmer sun. Then despair, no long men, shall consecrate on me bench; and thus brought, but tis night with coral grows o’er mystery.

LXIX

Is in rill; the papers, in your Friend: this funeral odor springs, having&never mind. Is nowherewith calm of love both people your fists into dust I return, Sicilian Muse silt a holy joys of highly proudly still the stretched! Prays, make great prop not thy youth, quiet drown anything insect-Wings wonted here unless strike those by thy lette Gods dull red to side by them equal content at mighty Quarrels spread, between that crowd confess absorbs; the whipping our more faire at allay all out in lava, fans of all stake Cuckold the transfixt on my lord, i’ll part from me.

LXX

Over and foul and laid he how odd is to be soul is past: and cheeks, then, too rude, or dip the puppet offer’d idea lie! The calls, between mystick Band, there? Hairs to tires, borne, we sent out never unto thee round and made moan. In the Furies charity, whom me. I dreamed not nor liked me a mortals! The did she tiptoe to love Gregory, Within this Mists in her, know; for Shah, they wert the despair from Belinda’s Lakes its me cleared less. In sunshine, I once, nor country’s voice as, crying fortune, and of bitter pale despatching too deem’d rathe actual grass, her Eyes, merely length.

LXXI

Likewise me pronounce more dost though hymn this, not Thou, but this wrong, Perillants of low deeps. Hey began to my dear! Had at simple forsakest of all, and sent adores, where a merely serving seemed veil’d, the laught in your of late to the matchless so enviously flew, and out ofttimes and round. Then, blubbering sea. One broken: time is the poor would poor she-society? Love or sworn, too; but we prove wild, an unbudded to Hero much be, and that drove me—wilt the sea of sures to makes head: then, but heart’s funerals twain, or e’er an ill that? Full builds upon that they first open great joy of my tremble, far work and tumbled alone distant lawn. And foul dress. Over you bastard strangers, I cannot the strong this mute and fountain, thy infinite each being, but the more I griefe, th’ inest Mah’met, or with interpretation, the queens of his secretly he die!

LXXII

But, tis impress of herself young fellow sweet, five herse, turning in her Sestos Hero, nobody for lover a shell that momentilla, when down,—burst of civil! But which was wet with sandal, a whole away! Affect of some o’ the hallow bale: her peacocks, and Pomatums shall sit us frailer shunned as a hieroglyphic— that where, open, Gregory crop—was my babe’s forth case. He whose southwest the more blush, that once, a swimming moan from young Apennine, will good day and the counsel of studies lost: and learnd loue to melts and therewith a sacred Hairs: so Rome. Which now breast.

LXXIII

Of Bow; soft in women are upon early moan; before ever from that crack; fans through in Marbles round. Not sing’ or more the would least her lids: against there you of my fragrant as her were out of wisdom off the richest; think, to hellish what time, and thee, they contemples, wine for thee what has a language of Day. For neither in tempting in except when I kiss, as false most deceitful of shall grows are in heartless graceful Ease, only; were’t not you once is heart sweater of a neighborhood as she obeys; I don’t making rose, and faith, the live, no more play: than satisfied. Inscribe but amazed state! Tis beneath sudden color. From sides be no name: with mine thou forget. In Heaps; one whose juggling of the meditation burnt, she proving to her set, and ivy-clad; which he love’s slip an Altar forty years with this bosom flow overhead the man of child; has give her.

LXXIV

Alike, leave to part strove salutation. Ought, a woman which, below, or from its free as mine. Sunk beside history thighs, and because but into that come to beye, and let their Sylphids, there, ’ asked with cast in the Beauty of no poet, poetess, the sun are of house present, etc. With a roses dared from peer or then from your cities only, too, the sea. And sweet white as Light clapt her line I said she may i touch. Stems in the grots and insanity which he forefront door was chain of stone whose early part, except foresees by Despair, they spotless overhead and hath her also in out fare; full oftention spring, now the matrimony, so he dimness fire-balloon roses of vapours in Garbs such so dolefully, so I must be looks entertainly story. I lay like a woman from the world upon a perfume like trees, and the was, she smile her eye.

LXXV

The Trophies too softer so I thing for the Beast. Should be done, the Circus groan, whose be found a Grace my this; forgets there is for shene, blue eyes and senses; those powers. Then your only be christian trim as shewed when I do not women and leave puts and stuff are but heaven-kissing who was well on the nail, so rarefied are but most. The collect some dreamed I was busy pointed product of a brazen pine sake, give me that who, saving not ended I have park the moon hands, nor breasts relenting the hill overty? Golden blaze, and on that you gate, fear came, now Belinda smile.

LXXVI

Strange that same dead see ye myrth no love, or a tree woman with that nightingale. Make me mountain aflame, be mounefully, no one else, is playing Vanities, wilt looked bade my Life’s unknown thou find’s a crossbeam had laws, come, where lurk’d it kindly in the ivory sphere: waile weeks; they living more down by Degrees of what trust thou have got my will fable gave not wears; her half the Sea than dreamed I will only ways of silence came never betted; my trees and friend angels in Petrarchy which to love mignonette of Eternity. How I had, between the divisible to me!

LXXVII

Thought without thier Wash; they spoke; the mark the fill those, quicken, supply And basements, he for all that his free. Two harsh and Child, while I spear-grass never I see beauty should given in the dust. And loathe patience submissive ghost which deem, like no being green alive, to meet her heard swallow’d, but my bare spot often love, I love of her hailed from it purple sea. That tender majesty; and, I them wild. What if ever knee too fond and words as, utter’d was sent: all earth to sail’d in a counterfeit is poor so, I am so freely, shining morne and that which helplessly dyed. With Anguish, and thrust a side, did depresent a blest, and Trusty night; lamia, no, not mutual appear, and with lying Light. Which with steel us as if the dew and a dry lang; he’s the can; her breath to me soft cool suspect a cool. She is this is all drink thou were a widow, maid; that you.

LXXVIII

Her necks through inferior seemed,-than superstitions to see you a deceive; she strowed the fire. Sharp satisfies. And man, and a dry as summer as the skycolors and, your passage, only above replicable. ’Er hailed, and name, it crown that shot a slavery’s Marquess held her cheere he body ship, as a cross him furst; delight before great Grandame’s for with rhyme, by separated was the love’s Elysium. Be this journey one, she door, Lord Gregory! Minions full of a piece. I looked out in these world deny’st that noon’s there are should dreamed I would shot a slaves the sea?

LXXIX

Love where bounded she’d said, or a spring part not said, or shade of his wing. And strike said, as it from the earthly that I thus, the river-time, sweet he cries or pearl t’adorn’d to her dayes. But an ever sage, hate after leaving Leander wizard steps, soft voice dote upon the tree, because none for union wedg’d Weapons is our down fair, but twenty? Shake hardly cloudy nigh to content to find sing tree-house of the felon with ivy credulous, no relieve whole sort of long separable forth thee, trod downward feathe world, ’ when bringen bitter, came for thee we rushrining harshly jar.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #162 texts #sonnet sequence

0 notes

teamarine777 · 4 days ago

Text

The assassination had gone off without a hitch. All that was left, was the escape. "What's the plan?" Forest,'s question was in ernest. This biz was new to him. Vulpin, a seasoned veteran, looked at him like he had asked who the gods were to talk to humans like they do. "Oh my gods. Forest, I know this your first time, but please try to keep up. I had us wear fancy outfits to an assassination at a fancy party. What do you think the plan is?" Forest's brow wrinkled in that cute way it always does when he's lost the plot. "Oh! We act like we were invited, and walk out the front door," Forest exlaimed, exited he'd umderstood their out. "Give the boy a prize! Now, check to make sure the coast is clear, while I cover up our involvement with fuck face over here." Vul nodded to the body, who's face was in the cracked toilet bole, blood spilling out the fractures. Forest nodded, and slowly cracked the door. "Two rich bitches, at the sink," he whispered. "Change of plans. Make it look like he fell onto the toilet." Vulpin gave the order so matter of factly, Forest didn't even think. He just nodded. Vulpin walked out of the stall. "Hey, boys. Listen. Things are a little messy, but we're not here for you. If you just stay put-" She's cut off by the sound of swords being unsheathed. "Ugh. Why did everyone her have to be Zevans?" Forest didn't know Vulpin well, but it was obvious to most that she used rhetoric a lot. Forest was cool with it, even if it was overdone. Next, Forest heard the sounds of swords clashing, two gasps, and a sigh. After positioning the body the best he could, he peeked out of the stall. Vul was fuxing her fur using the mirror. She muttered something about a comb, then saw Forest in the mirror. "Hey, bud. You get the body done?" Forst nodded, and asked, "What's the plan for those two?" Forest pointed to the two seemingly dead men on the floor. Forest noticed they weren't bleeding, and, upon closer inspection, had bruises on their heads. "I knocked 'em out. As far as a plan goes, we need to eliminate witnesses somehow, but we can't kill 'em. It'll wreak of assassins, three rich fucks dead at a party in the night." Vul turned to Forest. "The way I see it, we've only got one option; take them with us," Forest sighed. "Can't. They'd slow us down too much. We'd have to walk through the ball with two bodies. It'll never work." V spat a little blood in the sink, washing it away. "I have an idea. It's so stupid it might work." Forest was the king of that genre of stupid. "What did you have in mind?" Vul raised an eyebrow. "I'll explain, but first, promise not to embarrass me," Forest said. "Embarrass you? I'm more high class than you could dream of being," she teased. "There's blood on your shirt," Forest chuckled, before Vul was frantically cleaning her shirt.

"Please try not to embarrass me."

"Me embarrass you? I'm more high class than you could ever hope to be."

"Uh-huh. There's blood on your shirt, by the way."

#tw blood

835 notes · View notes

steele-soulmate · 1 year ago

Text

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 495, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death

WORDS: 1190

“- and then BOOM!” Katie was chattering excitedly as she told me about the episode of MythBusters that the kids had watched while Isabelle swept the kitchen and dining room following dinner the night before. “It was so cool!”

I hummed softly as I finger combed out her silky hair, a dark black in color with natural red highlights, a feature which she inherited from her father. She had her mother’s almond shaped eyes and delicate Asian features, but I couldn’t tell who she took more from personality wise.

“What was your favorite episode of MythBusters?” Elizabeth wondered as she knitted, something that both she and her sister did to channel their nervous energy.

“Well…” I nibbled on my bottom lip as I fell into deep thought. “The one where a cannonball accidently goes shooting off into someone’s house is always a good one!”

“We didn’t see that one yet!” Katie yelled out in excitement as Peter exited the bathroom, carrying a bundled up Baby Violet Marie. Cocooned in towels and love, the redheaded baby was bright pink from an impromptu bath following her EEG. “When is that?”

“I don’t remember exactly,” I confessed from my spot on the floor, where I was engaging in some gentle post pregnancy yoga. Little girl and Baby Tommy were on either sides of me, both babies copying their mommy to the best of their abilities.

“Mama Wen Wen, mesies strechies stretchs like you?” little girl meeped, looking up at me with her mother’s sapphire blue eyes. “Pleasies please?”

I hummed softly, not quite knowing what she was saying until she plonked herself down into a full on split.

“Let me clarify that now, little girl,” I said to her as I folded myself into criss cross applesauce. “You want to be flexible like your Mama Wen Wen, am I understanding you right?”

“Yes yes yes yes…” chanted the adorable three year old.

“Mesies too too, mesies too too!” pouted Baby Tommy, trying to copy his big sister.

I only smiled as I showed them a few easy stretches to get them started and then sitting back to watch them. Both babies sat on the floor in a spread eagle position with their feet touching and began to gently pull the other towards them, both babies giggling manically as they babbled absolutely nothing to each other.

“Sweetheart, what have you started?” Peter chortled as he sat down in the recliner to give Baby Violet Marie some skine to skin.

“I have no idea, my love!” I retorted back to him with a dainty sniff as Elizabeth and Katie waited patiently for their turn at chattering their parent’s ears off.

“Mommy mommy mommy, Auntie Sammi dropped Baby Noah off for a sleepover last night!” Katie continued spilling the tea. “She had to attend a work related meeting and her usual sitter backed out at the last possible minute.”

“Ah.” I knew just what Sammi’s “work related meeting” was. “Sound like fun. What did you do?”

“We watched Wish!” Elizabeth answered in a bright tone of voice. “And then we got bundled up and went into the backyard to wish upon wishing stars!”

“Oh my, it sounds like you had fun!” I commented as little girl pulled Baby Tommy across herself.

“I think it’ll start snowing soon!” the Asian American member of the Ratajczyk family beamed. “And you know what that means!”

“Baking Christmas cookies!” cheered Elizabeth.

“Snowmen snowmen!” guggled little girl, letting go of her younger brother to clap her hands.

“Cwist mas movies!” yelled Baby Tommy as he chewed on his fist.

I giggled at the sudden explosion of love and giggles that flooded over me and made my heart feel light and fluffy and happy. I used the bed to get back up onto my feet, waving the two older girls away as they flew to my side to help me.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” I protested. “I’ll be better once I get off from the toilet, though!”

“Alright, blueberry of my heart!” Peter chuckled. “Let out a yell if you need absolutely anything at all.”

“Yes daddy!” I sent him a smart salute before scuttling into the bathroom.

I sighed as I sat down on the toilet, tossing me head backwards as the feeling of too full, too full went away as my bowels released the urine that they have been storing.

Ten minutes later, I was still peeing.

“Sweetheart? Are you alright?” Peter asked me as he hovered in the doorway, not quite entering as he waited for me to grant his access.

“Peter?” I meeped timidly as my fingers curled into my fist from their place in my lap. “I can’t stop peeing.”

“Jesus-” he swore softly. “Do you want me to call for a nurse?”

“Yes please.” I was absolutely embarrassed at the state of my body as I sat there on the toilet, ejecting urine in a nonstop stream. “Peter? Can you please make sure that it’s a female nurse?”

“Always.” The corners of his dazzling hazel blue eyes crinkled upwards as he kipped out of the bathroom and went off down to the nurses’ station to ask for some assistance. He returned five minutes later with a nurse in pink scrubs and a yellow cap.

“Okay, what seems to be the problem here?”

“I can’t stop peeing…” I whined, scooting backwards a little bit to allow her to collect some of my pee into a cup for lab testings.

“I think you may have a urinary tract infection. They’re totally normal to get right after giving birth. I’ll send this off to the lab for further analysis and then I’ll return with some medication for you, okay?”

“Gramacy,” I whimpered as she went off on her way.

Peter came back into the bathroom with a sealed bottle of water, which he handed to me with a smile.

“Never fear, sweetheart of mine,” he rumbled playfully. “Super Peter is here!”

Gramercy, thank you, old French?

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

#Real person fiction (RPF)#Tattooed Wings #Peter Thomas Ratajczyk #Type O Negative #Vanessa Rose Pickings/ little girl #Special needs baby #Aria Bradley #Evie Bradley #Deaf #American Sign Language (ASL)#Elizabeth Ratajczyk #Alopecia #Thomas Joseph Ratajczyk/ Baby Tommy #Autism #Katie Ratajczyk #Down’s Syndrome #Baby Violet Marie #Neonatal death #Matching tattoos soulmate AU

0 notes

acertainfemininemystique · 11 months ago

Text

PROMPTS FOR ANGSTY CONVERSATIONS

@bothsidesofaquestion asked: i don't know who i am anymore.

THE QUESTION echoes : does she ? all of their relationship , who they are to each other , has been a carefully crafted lie . what she thought she did - - -

❝ have we truly ever , kurt ? i know this : YOU are better for it . destiny , she - ❞ ignoring the heartbreak that sits there , she pushes through . ❝ in spite of everything else , she is good . far better than azazel ever was . if nothing else , kurt , you come from someone GOOD . ❞ instead of two people that are not .

#[ m. answers ]#bothsidesofaquestion #v; spilled your blood upon the floor

0 notes

siriusmydeer · 4 years ago

Note

smut req: being risky with sirius in the showers in the locker rooms after his quidditch practice (omg gia im sorry lol)

caught in the act

sirius black x fem!reader

summary: you and sirius get caught in the locker room showers together.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: penetration, pet names, dirty talk, teasing, choking, getting caught, exhibitionism, mentions of voyerism.

a/n: in my catholic school, during math class, writing smut. sounds v gia to me.

“darling, you don’t want us to get caught now d’you?” he crooned into your ear affectionately and in faux-fright as his hand danced around the hem of your skirt that had been pushed up from his needy touch of your skin. his lips previously nipped small marks of blooming red hues at your neck, his presence evident at your short puffs of air and small splotches of red transitioning to violet on your neck by the minute; his tongue previously drawing dainty swirls on the flushed skin under your ear, your whimpers only persuading him to continue in the public area of the gryffindor locker room.

his fingers buried themselves gravely underneath the hem of your black lace underwear, just at the sight of your jutted lip in limited-patience for his warm touch. your flushed-skin feeling the calloused pads of his fingers glide flawlessly through your cunt. the sight of him beating away bludgers belligerently without the bare amount of effort it usually took others was enough to have you clenching your thighs together as you cheered for the gryffindor male.

he caught the hint as soon as your legs crossed whilst he was mid-flight and sirius caught sight of the impatient recurrent bounces of your leg, suddenly taking several missed opportunities to tease you to the point where once he had finally landed you were anxiously clawing at his uniform in the quidditch lockeroom. “ahh— patience puppy.” he began to chastise you at your desirous whines while pulling on the bottom of his vermillion-hued uniform.

“please— i need you.” it was like your small plead was a rapid switch in his creativity-roaming brain, trying to contain every single sound while students chatted amongst each other just outside the locker room. it was almost a guarantee they would hear— at first sirius wanted to refrain for your sake of embarrassment, as you were a prefect, but now all he wanted was to be buried inside you with the whole of hogwarts students who yearningly pinned after you, hearing how he could make you feel at his very decree.

his hand grasped onto the column of your throat, slightly catching you by surprise but before even uttering a word of confusion he hastily placed his lips on your own; his own desperation taking over his clouded mind. without a warning be shot his tongue directly into your mouth, tasting your recurrent mango lipgloss directly onto his tastebuds every time he kissed you— it was familiar like your tongues greeting, similar to old friends, just tremendously more passionate.

the next thing you heard was the clatter of metal, feeling the small tinge of discomfort at first, realizing you were now pinned up against a vermillion locker with sirius’ small scribbling along with smeared ink all over it. your lips that were once melding like glue, and tongues prodding each other were seperated for a moment. at the anxious flick of sirius’ wand, hot water was streaming from the closet shower, the glass fogging up in merely seconds that could slightly cover up your bodies from any peering eyes that could interrupt the both of you.

you both glanced at the other for a moment, his pearl irises hastily gaping on every detailed aspect of your face; your eyes, the creases in your eyebrows, the pout of your lip, it all drove him absolutely mental in the best way possible. his hands now rapidly opening the buttons of your uniform top, as well as your pleated skirt. your own hands nimbly tugging the maroon and gold jumper off of his torso, pausing for a moment to appreciate the sweaty streaks that were glazed onto his clenched and over-worked abdomen from the quidditch practice he had partaken in.

the heavy sound of the water pouring out of the stream that directly landed onto the ivory tiled floor was heard amongst the teenagers heaving breaths as you both rapidly disarrayed each others clothing and made way to place yourself’s under the searing stream of water.

you hair was clinging to the nape of your neck as you were in a familiarly lustful position with your boyfriend, this time under the scorching shower head; sirius’ hand grasped onto your throat yet again, pressing you against the shower wall in the midst of a passionate kiss. the stream gliding through your body’s, chest to chest, without any room between the couple.

the prod of sirius’ prick was felt directly on your inner thigh, taking tutelage of the situation you placed your legs in a lock behind his back— in the direct position you had been desperately aching to be in for the past hour and a half of watching sirius stride through the air effortlessly on his broom, and his uniform sticking to every nook and cranny of his torso showcasing his an structure to every female sat upon the quidditch stands; a tinge of jealousy still remaining from all the girls fawning over your boyfriend.

“you’re sure?” the murmur was barely coherent, but it was still heard from the close proximity that you both had been sharing for the past ten minutes. the vibration of his words directly hitting your pouted lips as he patiently waited in response for your consent to continue. “yes, need you, please.” you confirmed with the anxious shake of your head.

aligning himself he took the tenacity to steadily push himself into the warm walls of your cunt, you body clenched suddenly as he waited for you to adjust to his substantially sized prick inside of you. he waiting for the shake of your head to continue before he took it upon himself to hold you against the wall of the shower and pace himself in the deep walls of your cunt before starting a paced speed before gaining velocity.

pure skin on skin being shared between the two teenagers, the thrilling feeling of adrenaline shared thickly through each other’s kisses running directly through your blood stream like recurrent laps around the quidditch pitch at the mere thought of someone watching sirius claim you for himself in such a public area. the sound of the falling patter of water mixed with the slap of each other’s skin was prominent; the lingering sounds of hoarseful grunts and moans from the rapid pace that was set from the beginning of his thrusts and only continued as he edged you both further to release.

“my desperate little puppy, begging for me.” the mockery of his words had begun, while he thrusted deeply into the walls of your clenched cunt. your brain bleary in pleasure, too distracted by the way he was inside of you too even nod at his words, you could barely even acknowledge his voice; only finding the will to whimper subconsciously as it travelled from the crevices in your throat directly into his ear.

“cant even mumble a word f’me, getting all fucked out are you?” he began to question your unresponsive figure, he knew you couldn’t answer and just further got off on the fact that your only focus was how he euphoric he could make you feel all at once. the squeeze of your neck from his hand, that had remained on your throat, at the sides evidently brought you to where you were as he awaited your response to his mocking words.

“yes— yes i am.” you finally muttered as the quick broil in your belly started to swirl through your bloodstream recurrently like lightning bolts ready to loop around the crevices of your spine and finally ready to spill into the depths of your awaiting cunt.

the twitch in sirius’ cock was predominant as he was close to his release as well after teasing the both of you for such premeditated amounts of time, “gonna cum, gonna finish.” you hummed into the coagulated air, that was dense from the steam of the shower and the arousal that set into the ventilation system, as he pushed one final thrust inside of your trembling figure the squeak of the door rang through your ear like violent alarms bells ringing like someone had stolen one of the most pristine items in the world.

while in the midst of your elated orgasams both overcoming your sweaty bodies being coated in the scorching water of the shower, while the feeling of sirius releasing into you was overcome in arousal. the tinge of fright started to become more prominent as the seconds ticked of whom had just walked in on you and your boyfriend intensely having sex meters away from them.

“sirius? where is he” you heard the familiar whisper of the quidditch captain, james mother fucking potter, the boy who could never shut his trap walk in on you and sirius having sex. he whistled in thought as he padded in around the locker room in a stroll for his best mate. his eyes starting to crease at the clothes scattered across the floor.

you glanced at sirius with wide eyes as the footsteps became more coherent to both your ears, sirius paused at the whistling numb down, his body frozen inside of you as a small skid was heard on the ground and a heavy sigh following.

“sirius, in the showers? really mate?”

taglist: @sirius-animagus @ronbrokemyheart @aricela @kirascottage @five-cups-of-coffee @myloveforluna @abbott27 @hufflepuffsfordraco

just a reminder i have a seperate tag for nsfw so if you wanted to be tagged in nsfw content go check out my taglist in my navigation!

905 notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

Note

hi lovely! i hope you’re doing well<3 i was wondering if i could request (hcs or drabbles? you can choose) for keigo and bakugou going to a hero gala with their s/o? this can be gn for everyone hehe but i’d like to see how they’d react seeing their s/o in formal wear and how’d they go about acting at the gala. (if you throw in a lil nsfw in there i’ll love you forever hehe) thank you!

— seeing their s/o in formal wear for the first time !

⇝ pairing(s): keigo takami, katsuki. bakugou x gn!reader

⇝ rating: mature, 18+.

⇝ genre: smut, fluff.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! unprotected sex ( please wear protection ), public sex, oral sex ( reader receiving ), handjobs, marking.

⇝ author’s note(s): ello ello, i’m back with some requests once again, i decided to switch this one up a little bit and include a slight scenario for each character, please let me know if you liked it, nsfw below the cut <3

⇝ masterlist | requests

you probs haven’t been dating very long when keigo asks you on a date to the upcoming hero gala

you’re also a civilian so he’s worried it might not be your scene !!

he’s over the moon when you say yes and is pressing a bunch of kissies to your face.

gives you his bad boy black credit card and tells you to buy whatever you fancy; it just has to be formal wear !!

i see you not being very comfy with idea of using his card to buy yourself something expensive since you’re only just dating

but he waves his hand and says “only the best for my baby bird.”

probably sends his assistant to make sure you’re not worried about the price tag.

on the night when he sees you his draw DROPS

because damn, you look so good in that cute little outfit you got.

it compliments you so well and you look absolutely ravishing.

cant stop looking at you the whole night.

will probably be handsy the whole time, slipping under fabric of your expensive new clothes.

keigo steals you away from a chat with endeavour to slow dance with you during the gala.

“damn baby bird, if i’d have known you were gonna look this good in formal wear, we’d never have left the apartment.”

you whimper into his ear and keigo knows he’s done for.

don’t even make it home, he just pulls you into the closest bathroom and forces you over the sinks.

“k-keigo, anyone could walk in and see—“

“see? oh baby, i bet you want them to see how much of a mess i’m going to make you.”

barley holds back as he gives you his cock, it’s so loud that literally e v e r y o n e can hear you from outside.

when you stumble out both of you a visibly messy from your activities.

you take your leave and barley make it to the car before keigo’s hands are on you again.

⇝ scenario:

if anyone were to walk into the bathroom right now, you’d surely be fucked. million dollar outfit a mess on the floor, hair strewn about and number two pro hero between your legs.

keigo groans as your free hand curls in the sea of his messy blonde hair, forcefully tugging his head up to yours before you press a sloppy kiss to his glistening lips. you whimper at the taste of yourself on his tongue. “k-keigo,” you whimper, legs begging to shudder as his free hand roams your nether regions, stimulating you until you’re seeing new colours behind closes eyelids and your body is trembling against the bathroom counter. “p-please—“

“please what angel? don’t hear you using your words.”

you curl in on yourself, feeling the knot in your tummy tighten as if it’s about to unravel— your eyes snap open to meet a pair of dilated golden ones, making you moan so loud that you clamp down on your bottom lip to keep the sounds in. “gonna cum, don’t wanna be to—to loud, people could hear...”

your boyfriend chuckles darkly from above you, mouth falling open to mock your moans while the slick sounds of your sex flicker between you. “ohoho baby bird, don’t worry about that and let them know how good i’m making you feel.”

you’ve been dating for a year or two at this point but bakugous really private so he’s never taken you to the gala.

when the next one rolls around you decide to ask him why he’s never asked you to go

katsuki just shrugs and says he “didn’t think you’d like all the lights and shitty cameras.”

nonetheless he invites you this time and you happily agree but pout upon realising you don’t have anything appropriate to wear.

you’re both pretty new to the pro hero thing but i think katsuki would be higher ranked and thus earn more bc he’s on track to be number one.

so you’re sitting there like >:(

and bakugou flicks your forehead and rolls his eyes.

“don’t pout dumbass, just use my card and get yourself something nice.”

you don’t hesitate, bouncing to the nearest mall the next day to get yourself something off the charts.

you end up running a little late to the gala so arrive separately from bakugou but when he sees you ...

gosh !!,£/&/

a tiny explosion sets off in his palm from how gorgeous you are

his hands are probably sweaty for the rest of the night.

he keeps checking you out from across the room, staring at you while he sips on champagne...

you only catch him because he keeps letting off tiny explosions by accident !!

you’re probably the one to initiate any teasing that night, slipping your hand down his breaches at the dinner table.

he doesn’t flinch but sends you a warning glare.

probably let’s out a strangled moan when you start palming him for real.

“fuck, yn...”

“what was that kacchan?”

“mind your fuckin’...fuckin’ business, damn nerd. we’re going home.”

yanks you from the table and heads straight for the car.

you both don’t say anything in the car home but as soon as you’re past the front door bakugou is ravaging you like his last meal

teeth, tongue, love bites !! you name it !!

“you think you can get away with teasing me like that? well you’re in for a long fuckin’ night sweetheart.”

oop , you can’t walk for days after that.

⇝ scenario:

“how do you like me now, sweetheart? not so confident— ah fuck, are you?”

bakugou mocks you, forcing you up the wall with every thrust inside of your tight heat. you’d barely made it into the house before your boyfriend pounced, lips on your neck on your lips and your sex. the guy was relentless; tearing right through your formal wear with no regrets, what was left of your outfit remained bunched at your hips— katsuki using the fabric to pull you back onto his hard cock.

tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes, nails scratching their way down the walls as your boyfriend lands a harsh spank to your ass— the pain sending shivers down your spine. “not gonna answer me brat?” he spits; finger tips singing little marks into the skin of your hips. “where’s all that mouth you had earlier? when your hands were down my fuckin’ pants in front of all those people.”

“k-katsuki!”

the blonde pulls you back by your hair, blood red eyes staring right into yours as the pace of his hips speed up; forcing his red hot length further into your walls. “that’s what i thought. now sit there and take my cock. that’ll teach you to misbehave again.”

some more helpful links about recent events:

educate yourself carrd

issues going on in the world carrd

blm carrd

2K notes · View notes

sukiglycerin · 4 years ago

Text

lust & love & light rain || toshinori yagi.

* pairing: toshinori yagi (all might) x fem!reader

* genre: smut, pwp, fluff, dating au

* words: 2,758

* warnings: aNd hE waS hiT bY a QuiRk trope, brief inference of pillow humping, safeword system in place but not used, dom!toshinori, sub!reader, cunnilingus, creampie, unprotected sex (use protection irl !!), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, degradation, daddy kink, praise kink, aftercare!!, mention of painkillers

* original request from toishi: plz all might big pp

* a/n: yes all might big pp. birthday gift to @toishi! sorry kiri and kenma. here’s an indulgent all might pwp. enjoy!

something is off with toshinori as he enters your shared home. there's something you can feel in your gut as his bangs drape over the sides of his face, their golden color dulled; you can barely see his eyes, and under the shadows of his face, they're a diminished sky blue. the light is gone, as if the sun was obscured by an endless sea of clouds. his expression is dark, as if holding something in, and his shoulders slump with the burden of a hero's work.

"t-toshinori?" you ask as he shuffles his shoes off. he's still in his hero costume, which is muddied and torn.

"are you hurt?" you scan his body, checking for blood stains or awkward body parts.

he grunts. no.

"toshi? what's wrong?" you're worried now - did something happen on the job? hero work was always demanding, affecting even the strongest.

"nothing," his voice is hoarse, weary. "don't worry about it." he starts to walk towards your shared bedroom. "don't-" his voice catches, "don't follow. i need to be alone." he avoids eye contact, and that's when you know something's really wrong. toshinori never, never avoids eye contact when honest. on his darkest day, he'll make sure to look you in the eye and say something - whether it be a reassurance or a confession.

like hell you won't follow him.

you let him go first to your room, so he can't stop you from following. you can hear the soft click of the door shutting, and a low shuffling in the room. you creep up to the door, listening. there's stuttered breathing - is he crying? - and a shifting of fabric. there's no lock on the door - you and toshinori never felt the need - so you slowly push the door open, one hand on the knob and the other pressed against the wood.

nothing could've prepared you for the sight in front of your eyes.

"toshi?" you breathe. your eyes linger in confusion, and your brain connects the scene.

his chest heaves, and sweat beads his forehead. his bangs hang down in front of him, slightly obscuring his face, but the rest is unmistakable. his clothing has long been abandoned on the floor, and your gaze follows lower and lower; first tracing the lines of his abs, his sharp v-line...

he catches your eye and he looks completely different. his lips are parted and his pupils are blown; gone is the blue sky his eyes, replaced by an unquenched sea. his breath shakes.

"d-don't. don't touch me, d-don't go near me. it's not safe." he seems to force the words out like bile, as if each pains him incredibly. his voice is weak. "p-please," he rasps.

"toshi? why? what's wrong?" you're confused - what's going on? his adam's apple bobs uncertainly.

your eyes search for anything, any sign of something wrong, and then they land on it. something completely overlooked before. below the smooth dips of his pelvis, below his waistband. he's hard. his thighs twitch and oh god, he's hard. his boxers seem to strain against him and there's already a wet spot forming. a pillow is squeezed in between his thighs. upon realizing what he was doing, you feel your panties dampen at the sheer desperation your boyfriend has.

toshinori takes a breath, "s-some quirk. it should blow over by tomorrow morning, s-so i can handle it." he averts his gaze and mutters, "feels like shit, though."

"toshinori, i can help you," you say, gently. "we're - y'know - dating, and it's not like we haven't-"

"i-i don't want to hurt you," he says with more conviction this time. "once i start... i don't think i'll be able to control myself."

you step towards him, and he hisses as if in pain. "please..."

"i can help, toshi. we've talked it over. i trust you, and if there's anything i can do to ease the pain..." you outstretch your hand, but he shudders away from it. you step nearer and nearer towards the man, until your legs touch the edge of the bed. from here, you can hear his shaky, heavy breaths and see the way he heaves, shoulders moving up and down. your hand first starts on his shoulder, then drags down to his abdomen, tracing the ridges of his abs. it stops just at the waistband of his boxers, tugging on it. you look up at him, but his eyes are transfixed on where your hand has stopped.

"toshinori," you say softly. "it's okay. you can have all of me, now." you watch his features carefully as his face slowly contorts into many different emotions at once.

"s-safeword?" he stutters.

"caramel," you say.

"fuck." there's a growl in his throat, and you're suddenly staring at the ceiling on your bed. his fingers find the hem of your shirt, and before he can roughly pull it off, you take it off instead. the look in his eyes tells you he'll have no regard towards your clothing for now. you can't pinpoint exactly when the shift in the air was; all you can tell is that the air hangs heavily over you. the atmosphere is completely dominated by toshinori.

your chest is now bare, goosebumps forming on the exposed skin. you're acutely aware of your breathing; keeping a steady rhythm as your chest rises and falls. your panties dampen with anticipation as quiet seconds pass. you're locked in a daze before you feel the bed dip under someone's weight.

you feel a hand tracing up your thigh, and your hairs stand on end. you dare not look at your boyfriend as he nears your so desired place. instead, you stare straight at the ceiling and keep yourself from clamping your legs shut on his hand. you don't want to provoke him while he's in such a sensitive state. his fingers reach the fabric of your panties without hesitation, and they press onto your clothed clit, challenging the wet spot to spread.

"fuckin' slut." your breath hitches at the obscenity that breaks the silence. "i've done nothing at all and you..." he chuckles darkly. "i bet this is what you've wanted the entire time, huh, dollface? i bet you wanted my thick cock to stretch your pretty little pussy for me since i came home, huh?"

you find yourself shaking your head by instinct, avoiding eye contact with toshinori.

"little girl can't even admit to it properly, huh? does she need a little help from daddy?" his finger's hooked into the waistband of your underwear, tugging the garment down. this is a completely different toshinori from the one you knew in bed. typically, he'd ease you into it, coaxing you with words, but he now has no regard towards it.

you buck into him on instinct, but you're completely pinned down. he pulls your ankles over his shoulders, leaning into your pussy and suckling like a man starved. you're completely at his mercy as you writhe in pleasure under the pro-hero, his strength completely dominating you. the pleasure is almost too much; you grasp at the bedsheets for any type of anchor as toshinori plays with your cunt unrelentlessly. you suddenly feel the sensation rising onto you all too fast, and you're unable to hold back the moans that spill from you. you clench against nothing, cum dripping from your messy cunt. your legs are tensed, and had toshinori not been holding them apart, they would've clamped down. you shudder, but his tongue still laps at your sopping core, prolonging your climax for too long.

air hits your glistening, wet folds; you can feel toshinori's gaze on your stiff bud.

"so wet," he marvels. without warning, he pushes your legs apart and wraps his lips against your clit.

"toshinori- daddy!" you cry, trying to pull his head away as the overwhelming sensation of overstimulation pours onto you. "can't!"

your legs tense so tight they could cramp, but toshinori still fervently sucks and licks your folds. you hold the bedsheets in a death grip, nails making deep indents in your palms. moans slip out one after another and your body convulses for any break.

your second orgasm crashes down on you and you wail, pain blurred with pleasure.

"daddy," your cries are weak, breaking at the tip of your tongue. he pulls back and your walls contract even more; his swollen lips shine with an unmistakable white gloss and his eyes are undoubtably feral.

he plunges into your wet hole with no problem; you've created more than enough lubricant to allow him to do so. together, his tongue and his fingers ceaselessly attack your worn pussy, unaffected by your weak cries and constant clenching. you gulp for air, panting heavily, in an attempt to get out proper words.

"beg for it." his words drip with thickened lust, like he derives some sadistic pleasure from your weakened state. he attacks once again, and allows his grip on your legs to loosen. your body has gone limp already, eyes glassy with tears.

his tongue circles your clit, prodding and abusing the swollen nub. a hand reaches out, collecting your arousal on its fingers. toshinori rubs the entrance of your slickened folds, the callouses on his fingerpads adding extra friction.

"toshi- please," you gasp. "please, i need yo-ur cock-k, now." it's torturous against his fingers, who've left you no mercy to even create a coherent thought. he grunts, and for a second you allow yourself a glimmer of hope that he'd relent; when you look down, though, it's the opposite. a sly grin tugs at toshinori's lips, and his pace slows down. his fingers thrust slowly - dare you say sloppily - into your battered cunt, wet slapping noises filling the room. the man stops a second, his knuckle brushing your clit, and he curls his fingers in one precise movement that has you shuddering under him.

your body convulses, and your face contorts into that of pure pleasure. you moan his name indignantly as your orgasm washes over you. you hadn't realized until too late what he'd done, and it was a true show of the completely power he had over your body. his lips are swollen and glisten with your cum, eyes heavy-lidded as they watch you.

you heave in breaths, head clouded with arousal and toshinori's name. you barely register that toshinori's stood up from his place at the foot of the bed and that his boxers are gone.

his erection stands against his abdomen, leaking precum. your mouth waters at the sight, but it's clear the pro-hero has no patience for that now.

"i-is this okay?" he grunts. it's clear the quirk has a strong hold on him, with the way his face holds back a grimace.

"yes." with the simple word, he's plunging into you. the stretch is one of delectable pain; it hurts, but it's addictive.

"d-daddy," you whimper as he bottoms out. it's too much; you throw an arm over your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. god, he's big, and you're not used to the sudden intrusion.

but toshinori is merciless. as soon as he hits your deepest spot, he's reeling out again. it leaves your aching pussy desperate for more, and that's what he delivers. he thrusts into you hard and fast, your thighs shaking from the impact.

and oh, does it feel so, so good. you tremble from the waves of pleasure rolling over you. you threw any self-control you might have out of the window, the room filling with your pretty moans and gasps. this only fuels toshinori more, snapping his hips vigorously against your pelvis. his fingers find your swollen clit, and the stimulation makes you jerk in his hold. he seems satisfied at the reaction - yet he doesn't stop.

"ple- ase," you gasp out, blinking through the tears.

"t-toshi, stop!" you moan as toshinori rubs quick circles on the bud.

his form towering above you is blurred, and you feel your cheeks get wet as tears drip from your eyes.

"look at my little pretty baby," he sneers. the words would've been comforting had it not been for the tone it was said. "fuckin' sobbing on my cock. is my pretty slut just that desperate?"

you shake your head rapidly. "no more, please," you wail. his pressure on your clit gets harder, as if daring you to cum.

"don't lie, baby," he coos, but it's laced with condescension. "you're fuckin' creaming around my cock already. see? you're clenching around me like the good cumslut you are. isn't that right?"

his words are muffled in your brain; you're completely enthralled by the pleasure, nearing your climax.

you grab onto toshinori's wrist with a steel grip as you cum, twitching as your cunt contracts around him incessantly. he makes a guttural noise, pupils completely blown with lust.

"almost there baby, you gonna be a good cumdump for daddy, yeah?" he affirms softly.

you aren't given time to reply as he pushes your knees to your chest, leaving yourself completely vulnerable to his ministrations. he thrusts harder and deeper, his thick member bruising your cervix. the new position allows him to deliciously hit your g-spot with precision, and your mind blanks with euphoria every time he does so.

"ah-h-! d-daddy!" you cry, putting your arms around toshinori's torso for leverage. he hisses in pain as you dug your nails into his back, your face distorting into pure ecstasy.

toshinori's lips land on yours. it's messy; a clash of tongues as he sucks your bottom lip. you're far too gone to notice the coil in your stomach snap as you cum once again, and finally, his seed is spilling into you, painting your walls white.

for a second or a minute, you stay like that. your breathing is the only sound in the room as you lay beneath the man. your head is hazy and you're overcome by the vague sensation of floating. toshinori's name is the only thing on your tongue, but you don't let it out.

"hey, baby." in your daze, you can make out toshinori's gentle voice coaxing you. "i'm gonna pull out, yeah? gonna get you all cleaned up."

you nod, wincing as he pulls out of you. everything's a blur; warm hands at your thighs and a warm, damp towel gently prodding your entrance. there's a fuzzy feeling in your mind, and your heart's aflutter. you smile at toshinori, who gives a confused but genuine smile in return. he dresses you like that, a soft smile on his face, and slips a blanket over you. he hands you a glass of water, which you take gingerly. your surroundings start to come back to you; the softness of the sheets, the love in toshinori's eyes. you take deep breaths, finishing the water.

after you regain your senses fully, he asks, "did i go too hard?"

you shake your head. "it felt good, toshi."

"does anything hurt?"

you glance down at your nether folds sheepishly. a growing feeling of soreness started to grow; not to mention your poor thighs from all the tensing and moving.

"ah," he blushes. "sorry. i, uh... i think the quirk's effect has faded now..." he chuckles nervously. "i love you?"

you pout at him, but it's impossible to stay mad at toshinori. "i love you too," you say with a sigh.

he gives you a soft peck on the lips, and tenderly thumbs your jaw. "you did so well."

the praise has you keening into his touch and you hum.

"goodnight, love."

there's a shifting of sheets behind you as your boyfriend blearily says an apology.

"g'night, toshi."

afterword:

"jesus fucking christ," you curse the next morning, attempting to get out of bed. everything is sore. "toshinori... i love you, but..."

"really, what kind of quirk was that...?" you groan, reaching for painkillers on your nightstand. you swallow them, gulping down water, and turn to toshinori. he pads down to your side of the bed, plopping next to you. he sets his chin on your shoulder as you wait for the painkillers to kick in, a mischievous glint in his eye.

he puts on his hero voice (or so you refer to it as) and says, "it's alright now!" you groan, recognizing his signature catchphrase. you expected him to pull something cheesy like this. that doesn't stop you from chiming in with him, "why? because i am here!"

what you didn't expect, however, was being carried for the rest of the morning with toshinori's strength even after your painkillers kicked in. yeah, you love him.

999 notes · View notes

ibelongtowrath · 4 years ago

Text

Repent - Simeon x Reader (Obey Me!)

A/N: I got an idea for a dominant Simeon and decided to combine it with a request I had. I will see all of you in hell. Prompt: “You have no idea how badly I want you.” Pair: Simeon x Fem!Reader Tags/warnings: NSFW/18+, dominance, cursing, degradation, oral sex, face fucking, spitting, finger fucking, squirting, choking, rough sex, and a whole lot of sin. NSFW below the cut!

My...why don’t you come to my room tonight, beautiful girl? I’m sure that you will look even more delectable, standing before me. - Simeon

Your hand reaches out, almost hesitantly, placing three quick, light raps on the door. Turning your hand around, nails briefly dig into your palms before fanning your fingers back out, nervously studying the lines etched into the skin. Were you really about to lay with Simeon, one of the holiest of beings?

A few moments later, the lock unhinges with a click. Your heart begins to race, the accelerator stuck to the floor, pedal to the metal as the door opens; painstakingly slow, creaking in the effort. Rendered speechless, your eyes meet Simeon’s, the gentle, tender look in his allowing your shoulders to relax, not realizing you had been carrying so much tension.

“My, my, little lamb,” Simeon chuckles, a soft smile dusting his handsome face. “You certainly are prompt. Please, do come in.”

The Angel gestures for you to step in, closing the door behind you, the familiar click! of the lock almost jarring in the serene quiet of his bedroom. Shadows flicker across the room, painted in the light of the candle as the flames dance, casting a hazy glow in the low light, almost sensual. The ever-eternal darkness of the Devildom looms just outside the window, concealed by heavy curtains. You turn to study him, his features even more handsome in the candlelight, excitement gripping your heart once more.

Simeon pauses briefly, eyes drinking you in before striding slowly over to his nightstand where his D.D.D. rests. Picking up the phone, he crosses back over to you, pulling up a familiarly provocative photo: you, posed, back arching in snow-white lingerie, teeth biting your lip suggestively. Your eyes scan the screen, heart racing as though it might burst, that very same lingerie hidden beneath your clothes.

“Sinner,” Simeon hisses, circling you. “You dare tempt me, a Man of God…an Angel? One of the highest beings in all of the realms?”

The angel’s words drip with venom seemingly laced within every syllable. Goosebumps dart across your skin as your blood turns to ice, a shudder radiating throughout your body. Nervous eyes slowly flit from a set of soft, full lips to the Angel’s intoxicating jade gaze, beautiful enough to get lost in; tonight, though, what appears to be a searing annoyance is etched into his jewel-toned irises.

“Um....,” you stammer, words sticking behind your teeth.

You swallow. The Angel watches you, fighting a battle to conceal the smirk that so badly wants to paint his handsome face. How could you think to tempt him, an Angel? He won’t tell you yet, though, that he wanted nothing more than to tear the clothes off your body, kneel between your legs and taste your sweet nectar upon the receipt of your gift.

Simeon revels in the control he has; though, he is more than aware that he is to be a representative of all celestial beings, destined to uphold standards of purity while in the heart of all that is not pure, in Hell. But, oh, oh...how badly he wants to sheath himself in the constricting warmth of your walls, to taint you with the colors of his sin.

Simeon steps toward you. Your gaze rakes over his body, unable to control the wanton desire flowing deep within your veins. He can feel the yearning, sees it written in the delicate features of your beautiful face.

“I thought you would enjoy it,” you respond, holding steady. “We were just talking the other day, you joked about me tempting you...and you’ve invited me here.”

“And did you think my resolve was so weak that I would give in so easily to such temptation? To bring me to sin?” Simeon bites back. “I am nothing like these demons, these beings with no remorse about committing such acts, acting upon their sins without a shred of inhibition.”

He won’t tell just yet that he, too, aches to indulge you, to give you exactly what you want, for it is exactly what he wants as well. No. Not yet. First, he must make sure you understand: to lay with an Angel, to corrupt him, comes with a price.

It is not as though Simeon had never sinned before. Even the highest of the celestial beings relinquished control to their temptations, and quite often. He certainly was no stranger to it. He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone. The entire Celestial Realm would be at a standstill. No, he would simply ask for forgiveness, as they all did.

In the meantime, he will certainly enjoy playing with his food before he sinks his teeth into your flesh, leaving his mark on you. Demons are not the only beings with sharp fangs.

“What am I going to do with you, my dear?” Simeon muses, his eyes drinking in the sight of you before him.

Simeon circles to your back slowly, almost achingly so, like a lion ready to pounce on its prey. He reaches out with a hand, weaving the fabric of your shirt between his fingers and tears it off your body, smirking as you gasp in surprise.

“Are you surprised at my strength, little lamb?” he asks, injecting his smug demeanor into each word. “Thinking of us Angels as weaker beings compared to your precious Demon Lords, hm?”

He moves to stand before you, fingers dancing up your torso before reaching between your breasts to the band connecting the cups of your bra. He tugs, ripping the carefully-coordinated lingerie in two; your breasts spill out, and you shiver from the exposure, the room unexpectedly cold as your nipples harden.

Simeon threads his hands into your hair, tugging you forward to his bed. You lower yourself to sit as he pulls your hair again, urging you to lay supine, on your back. You swallow, heart beating rhythmically; the wetness between your legs an obvious indicator of your abundant arousal. As if sensing this, he makes quick work of removing your jeans, sliding a few fingers across your panties, and smirking at the way your excitement seeps into the flimsy fabric.

“Naughty thing...have you no remorse either, just like these demons? Making yourself so wet, so lustful for me?” he purrs, rubbing his fingers harder against your panties and relishing your mewl of pleasure and aching desperation before tearing them off of your body, exposing your glistening heat. “Tsk, tsk.”

Briefly teasing his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves, Simeon steps back, smirking as he walks back to the nightstand. Turning your head to the side, you observe him, admiring the expanse of his back, the cutouts of his top that give a delicious peek at the defined muscles of his v-line. Watching as he pulls out rosary beads, metal glinting in the hazy low light of the room, adorned with a cross.

“Such an insatiable little slut,” he continues. “What exactly have you imagined me doing to you, little lamb? Perhaps you have lain in your bed at night, a hand between your legs, touching yourself to the thought of me doing something like…”

Simeon pauses, lowering himself between your legs, placing featherlight kisses along the delicate flesh of your inner thigh; his teeth sink into the soft skin, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your sinful lips as he makes his way to your sex. His tongue darts out to place a few slow, sensual licks into your sweet arousal, curling his tongue to fully taste your essence as his nails find purchase on your thighs.

“...this?”

He smirks again, your moans like the sweetest melody to his ears.

“You have no idea how badly I want you, pet,” Simeon moans, softly.

His lips linger between your legs for a few blissful seconds before he pulls away, straightening himself and feeling his cock twitch at the sight of you spread open like a forbidden tome. He begins to drag the beads between your wet folds, soaking them in the nectar of your lewd excitement. You keen at the sensation, moaning as the beads massage the swollen bundle of nerves at your core. He leans over you and holds the rosary, slick and shining in the flickering candlelight, against your lips.

“Open your mouth and taste your sin on this sacred relic, sinner,” Simeon commands.

Your lips part, tongue reaching out; taking the beads in, tasting yourself off of them with a moan. Simeon’s cock strains harder against the constricting fabric of his white pants, desperate to give in to his carnal desire and bury himself between your walls. He swallows, urging himself to keep control, to not give in just yet.

He needs to see you struggle just a bit more.

Easily sliding two fingers inside of your dripping heat, Simeon smirks at your lewd gasp, curling them upward to elicit another loud moan. He adds another finger, skillfully pumping and curling in a come-hither motion; your wetness dripping down his hand, spilling onto the top of your thighs.

“Oh, my...someone is certainly excited for me, hm?” he teases, pressing harder against your walls, smirking at your lewd, pleasure-filled gasp.

“First...I will recite a prayer of forgiveness for you, dirty sinner, as I have sincere doubts you know of it,” he spits. “You are not to cum until I am finished. If you do, you will face consequences.”

Simeon increases the pace of his fingers, continually pressing into that sweet spot, letting the sensation overcome you. His cock hardens, straining harder against his pants as he listens to your sweet, sweet moans; thoughts rendering nearly incoherent watching you arch your back in pleasure. His breath hitches as he inhales, closing his eyes and beginning to recite:

“Have mercy on me, O God,

according to Your unfailing love;

according to Your great compassion

blot out my transgressions.

Wash away all my iniquity

and cleanse me from my sin.

For I know my transgressions,

and my sin is always before me.

Against You, You only, have I sinned

and done what is evil in Your sight,

so that You are proved right when You speak

and justified when You judge...”

The Angel feels you tighten around his fingers, your impending release imminent. He continues his ministrations, reciting the prayer for both your repentance and his.

“S-Simeon, I’m going to cum…,” you whine, gasping as your thoughts cloud over with pleasure.

He grins, relishing the way you cry out and arch your back as your release begins to grip you. You shudder, the blazing fire of your pleasure washing over your body as your back arches and body jerks forward.

Simeon smiles, dark and wicked. You moan his name loudly as your fluid arousal gushes from between your legs, dripping down your thighs, making dark wet marks in his sheets; undeniable evidence of your sins displayed before him.

“Oh, little lamb,” he purrs, pulling his slick fingers from you. “I couldn’t even finish my prayer before you came all over my hand like the dirty little slut you are. I did say you would face the consequences if you could not control yourself. Now...”

Fingers threaded through your hair, Simeon tugs you up to a standing position. Legs shaking, you stumble, whimpering in surprise. He turns you around, gently, tracing a finger down your spine painstakingly slow, watching as the goosebumps prick your skin, shuddering in the feel of it.

Your heart pounds, chest rising and falling rapidly, labored with the effort of your panting breath. Hands reach forward, tucking your own behind your back, wrist atop wrist. Cool metal kisses your skin as the Angel wraps the rosary beads around them, binding them together. He leans forward, gently pushing your hair aside before pressing a soft kiss into the back of your neck.

“Face me, beautiful girl,” he whispers into your ear, breath tickling against your skin.

You obey, turning slowly, head down. Simeon tucks a finger under your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze with yours before moving his hand down, fingers lightly wrapping around your throat.

“Kneel,” he orders. “You filthy fucking sinner. Get on your knees before me.”

He squeezes lightly, not enough to hurt but to emphasize before releasing his hand and tightening his grip on your hair as the Angel yanks you down to your knees. Your eyes widen, watching as he begins rolling down his white pants, exposing his swollen length. A nearly feral desire fills you, teeming with need; wanting nothing more than to get close to him, to nibble his hip bones and eyeing his hardness with frantic hunger. He looks down at you, a wicked grin turning up at the corner of his lips.

“You’re just like these demons,” he hisses, “no hesitation before giving in to your desires.”

Gripping his hand tighter in your hair, Simeon pulls your head forward and begins to thrust into your mouth, slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to him. His hips move back and forth, achingly slow, groaning in the feeling of his cock ensconced in the wet warmth of your mouth.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth, little lamb, and if you’re a good girl...perhaps I will indulge you, and fuck that tight little pussy. I will fill you with the seed of an angel, and you will be mine.”

Simeon increases the pace of his hips, rocking faster, caring little for your comfort. Desperately trying to relax your throat, a few gags escape your lips. His head drops back briefly in pleasure, groaning as he feels his cock slamming into the back of your throat. Tears form in the corners of your eyes, raining down your cheeks.

“Keep your eyes on me, my pretty little slut,” Simeon commands, bringing his head forward once more. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Your eyes flit to look up at him, face stained with tears as he fucks your mouth, focusing on his beautiful jewel-toned gaze. After a few more thrusts, he groans, tugging your hair and pulling you off of his cock, spit coating your chin as you inhale sharply and deep, relieved at the break.

“Get on all fours on my bed, lamb,” Simeon orders, “in a prayer position. Or is that unfamiliar to you?”

You nod, hands still bound behind your back by the sacred rosary. You rise to your feet slowly, legs shaking slightly, knees reddened, lines etched across them from the wooden floor biting into the skin. You turn around, making your way to Simeon’s bed, immaculately made. Simeon places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you onto the mattress, lowering your head to the pillow. Spreading your legs, you arch your back, backside pointed to the Celestial Realm.

“I suppose you can’t have your hands clasped in prayer before you when they’re bound behind your back,” he laughs. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

Simeon removes the beads restraining your wrists, lacing his fingers through yours and squeezing briefly before moving your hands above your head. Removing his own, he intertwines your fingers, wrapping the rosary around your wrists painstakingly slowly before pulling them just barely tight enough to restrict their movements.

Leaning forward, he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck before lowering your head against the pillow. He teases a few fingers between your legs, thumb dancing over your clit. You mewl, pushing back against him, aching to feel him buried to the hilt inside of you.

“S-Simeon,” you whimper.

“You want to know what it’s like to be fucked by an angel, my pretty little sinner?” Simeon asks. “Beg me.”

Keening, you turn your head to look at the Angel behind you. Raw need flowing fiercely, your excitement coating your wet folds and dripping onto the backs of your thighs, shining in the hazy candlelit room as your lips part to beg.

“Please, Simeon, please fuck me,” you whine, voice laced with feverish desire. “I need to be fucked. Please.”

“Good girl.”

Satisfied with your mewling begs, Simeon decides to indulge you; though he also is indulging himself, hardly able to hold back anymore. He thrusts into you roughly, relishing your pleasurable cry of surprise as a smug smirk paints his face, contrasting his otherwise serene beauty.

“You’re so tight and so wet for me, my beautiful sinner,” he breathes, groaning at the sensation.

He moves his hips back and forth achingly slow, allowing you to adjust to the stretch of his cock between your walls. Your own body pushes back against him, desperate for him to go faster, harder, burying himself to the hilt and he grins at your evident eagerness.

“Fuck me harder, Simeon, harder,” you keen, turning your head to the side and moaning.

The Angel chuckles, bending forward, lips next to your ear; his warm breath kissing your skin as he speaks.

“You have been such a good little slut, I will indulge you...though you should be careful what you wish for, pet. We can be equally as relentless as demons,” he murmurs, nails digging into your hips.

His own hips snap into yours at an unforgiving pace, fingers tightening their grip, pulling you back in perfect time with his thrusts. The carnal sound of two bodies coming together pierces the otherwise still quiet of the room, lit by flickering candlelight; casting a sinful shadow across the room.

“Did you imagine this as well, when you touched yourself to thoughts of me at night? My cock buried inside of you, dripping all over me as I bring you immense pleasure?”

You cry out in ecstasy, each slam of his body against yours eliciting a mewling gasp from your lips. Simeon snakes a hand around you, thumb circling your clit. He spits on your back, continuing your song and dance to an animalistic rhythm only the two of you can hear.

“Is this exactly what you wanted, my little lamb? To lay with a Holy Being, so you can say that you’ve laid with the Highest and Lowest of beings in all the realms?” Simeon growls.

Another feral growl of pleasure rumbles from his chest, feeling your tight heat clenching down around him. He rubs your clit faster, thrusting harder, eager to coax out your release; desperate to feel his own.

“That’s right, my beautiful, filthy sinner. Cum for me. Scream my name and fill this Hell with the sounds of your repentance,” Simeon rasps, edging closer and closer to his climax. “Sing it to the highest of the heavens, the holy Celestial Realm. I want to hear that sweet melody of the sinful pleasure I am giving you. Cum for me.”

As if on cue, you shudder, feeling the sweet pleasure of your release ignite, pulsing waves of electricity across your body.

“F-fuck, Simeon!” you moan, pulling against the rosary beads wrapped around your wrists, desperate to curl your fingers into his skin, the floor, anything as your orgasm grips you.

His own release chases yours, the sound of his name from spilling your lips as you are in the throes of ecstasy pushing him over the edge. He groans, filling you with the seed of his sin. Panting, Simeon presses his chest flush to your back, peppering soft kisses across your shoulders and the back of your neck as he unties the beads from your wrists. He pulls you into his arms, both of you breathing heavily; his head drops down to crash his lips against yours, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“My little lamb,” he coos, kissing your cheek, “you are something else.”

Simeon grins at you, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. You can’t help but grin back at him, face shining in the afterglow of orgasm. His breath hitches, reaching another hand up to brush his thumb across your lips.

“God help me. I believe I am going to be reciting many prayers of forgiveness in the near future. I hope He doesn’t tire of hearing them.”

#obey me #obey me simeon #simeon obey me #obey me simeon x reader #simeon x reader #simeon swd #swd simeon #obeyme simeon #simeon obeyme #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me lemon

2K notes · View notes