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libidomechanica · 4 months

Text

Untitled Composition # 10976

A ballad sequence

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

reefs which the Levantines are ended by a married the fair plants, which way said he ow said he where I may not be idolatry to kneel. Private arms at village cars follow. And harebell mildly blue. And th’ amorous

languishment complained, and so he chewed his angry gods he downs—to the glamour of regency ghouls. Ended for ever as they. Common bed were little child of my love good-bye. Until you may remember you little goods; fixed

the door.—So few are the swan, and ioy there wanted thence. If I look at yours and might still more nearly to the coale in my love fame fasten’d with prayer! May i feel said she oh no said he i’ll squeal said he but you until I not Honour,

which happened in his sword, a horse, a shield me from love, and comfort me while, then both soule and seemed the charger stood avenged: her seat—and there, open or shut as the street of all be well describes, as most pamper’d with the summit of

a line Fill high the goblin Honour, which allures the tale which the twilight was falling hot and adders sun themselves cannot finding curls, and slay me not Sweet I am undecided thus, thus, and long has sank, or graves may pour

out the last word—’Oh. Thy adverse party is thy adverse party is thy adverse party is thy advocate—and not a mistress now I chase, that’s lasted ten years the sea. Frogs were downward cast; and sure in the sex more, but in two

years we’ve caught in the weary, to the tyrant; but her on a golden fleece I shear of all consort their ring. Now was Salámán, whom she had; her dress was like mine? Bear the fire we sate together came familiarly and favourite

of full many a summer ere she gazed and exorcised. The huge Colossus’ legs, and comfort were through the bowl with Sorrow. But a screen—yet for all? The Poets in their close ivy-twines; there he shall ever be clean any

more—pulling door-bells to redden thro’ the isles of female family’s a serious glimmer steals from the spitefull brere had been piled upon most occasions—which show’d its power and pointing to the ignoble call—the hedges.

Soups, and now the trotting brooks’ and while thus with a wand’ring kiss the manner which treats of the breeches. I’d wind the heads globes of unsifted time. That, though my life, the little pool left there among many. And sink from our brows that hath rotted that spangle here. Contempt,

but for us, who them brought urn become a thinking frames and cheeks’ returned and skill, loue and felt my blossomes fayre, and grass sprang from those pains, for some bar of fault or temper ruin’d their rotten sound. But sike fancies were seen all light vpon my brain, to take a new

acquaintance of the favour! My displeasure whene’er you had something ready spreading houses probes wounds which makes my heart. Left the sights he was up and busy at his ship to be Lords of that so adorn’d the clime, then the world, a white-hair’d shadow roaming like a

Lord alone, but often flye. He ask’d the bond, ’ that ’s under gore, herkne to my ear; I knew not how their trays, where you once a man—the moon, could not find. Wept the lack. Were they are, nor over-anxious care. Such was the long darkness spoke the public mind,—so few are then,

oh Sir! Middling; a pipe, too, be off! Pride of our border-tufts—daisy and than delight nature or unrestrained in lusty greene, colours— like that complete of these tears do rest, had soil’d the lips that receive thee, this witnesse within his daughter’s web hung to the wind

wagge their native air, we held by thee on a group of Greeuance. Actually, when twilight hour of unborn shall ready upon me, unless in war, or to wrong in a lover’s glorious ills—a bird and some of loue, and all its mysteries; nor shall keep I woke—and

chasing cash seem strangled there as plentiful and stately. I have been her mouth her eyes and thy power to lend base subjects only sin when they whose rays shone ever trembling, but in my hartblood is no memorial wood, rooted at Netherby clan; forsters,

Fenwicks, and a tear be shed and, with her Sorcery. Thee young Lochinvar. Slay me not too long away, a human kindness, tremulous, breath crept through to torturing hope endeared, a tale of true minds and never do—tis beautiful to see her. Death rattles in

my heart. One hand, to be their tongues so that he pushed me away! The fields to take a corkscrew and screw out all things so that in the chimney- smoke, felt glad; but only two that in my gaol: and you denied;—love swells like a salmon, struggling on through the bubbles of the

lips of a former strife: o my luve’s like earrings. With human heart, too deeply blest to feel that in her face wad fyle the Logan Water; sic a wife and death such things will soon deceive thee wit, better by far, that he had slipped over his daily work till

they seem strangers in its fullest power sink o’er the blood might make him lose her reade, reading, prickling the fire-side a sight of the waved branches hast thou promise such outrage, crauing your neck. Him from him: You will luve thee young man, half- conscious of the hearts could he not be

a dumb one, write odes of light, alone at first her elfin grot, and put one’s back to the loan of Charley snarling, go back, my love? In England forest where the bounding, found, it seems to mourn, or purple orchis variety, he was gone whose glowing crescent moon

the milky ways, my lips shall adore; I could never marked by reason why; I think, even in their chase, He count it should not finding curls, and thought! But of the wast Oake. Place knew not the prettiest and skilful pilot, though a pale steam, and walk about the hates remoue.

Haidee forgotten you. A glimpse of the Day, awake! Away to vary from their roots of war and perhaps the west, through every visit, Haidee’s cheek begins to remember how you smilest, dear. Her legs were diverted sky bloom-covered their wisdom turn our heart

do hit, that, wholly good; his head, they might be seen upon the shining shot a slant and to the way heals the wast Oake. His heart of Yúsuf. The galleys there his! This thou wouldst be nam’d, despised every visit, Haidee did with necks unyoked; nor is it just that is

it just that holds that steady beams of clear I shiver and distance heard, tel it not for standing on Cannobie Lee, but in this tedious years with cypress Stature risen to her elfin grot, and flowers, like joanna Southcote’s Shiloh, and no more; but go

my way when light classical profit thee accloieth, my Sinnamon, and only twelve fair plants, which you sit, the whip, the rain the other. But in her place of withered round my face and shed thus, and left the best of alle thing provided thus, thus, thus let us part.

A day of gold i’ll wrap it round. So haggard and such sort not at me in much ioy, many in many changed, and weak,

and place me on Sunium’s marble. It kissed and walk about her most probably his bending questions, and a joy in flower.

Of fame, of rocks bewitch’d that I do not long we had not seventeen skiing the wish and fresh virgins of the

king ordered every side shall be before his throat like a bowl of fruit. Her face was peace, as not think I’ve done much more

without a weak model wrought urn becomes the venerable horns with foggy damps did chill her hospitality

seem’d to meet the hole—The lover, in nations, e’er saw her mouth can it kiss said he, if you kissed her breast, and sock or

busied in their laps, scarce ane has tried the dog, and made the border, richly wrought, displaid. With weeping, a like good manure

for their sakes—that throug my beaten face, that the love of old days, an Eastern anti- jacobin at last where the

elect; and am like at all hours to the Turkish trousers furl’d about me the mark, the poor than they, yet am

I richer one. May so fall upon us that receive thee memory—and two pretty pair—their bonds whene’er some

kinder casuists are gone! Mixing her thigh: which scarce even France, but adoring, see, no more to advise of seeds of

bursting gold, an epic from Bob Southey, when he prated to recall, and thee; tho’ worlds quite me, shall lift my madness

off like an emerald aigrette with sometimes sleeps; ’ we feel of sorrows spent by its own shock, this house upon the world

adores, but never noticed you I could not heart unclosed amidst the living wings, ere he had lost. Despisèd lover,

left a boy—one wing has sank, his own and love begins to remind those who have the darkness spoke to hire take for

to bellow the dim curls kindle into a passenger has blessed her range of the Twists, facing a dragon.

Little they were downward cast; and we will still be there. Faded the same princess. Mile, his vessel having no custom

of old days, an Eastern anti- jacobin at last: if twice you got home to the saddle before my dear, not whom

they went and mellow, and saffron soups, and faint away, pieced out upon it, I have sung in his laureate pension.

When a Signal out of prison? No wish they went and men in nation he waged, in vengeance of their mistress: a wander

here, her lover sate at wassail in the village cars followed the careless limbs I faintly stretched a walk one day

see both there is an ever love retain. In sickness she remember that of wild and walked before my heart. Bright back.

I WILL enjoy thee smiling blank as honeysuckle crowded round the hears—alas! The bride had consented, the white

limb which overlook’d up several odds and wise, and feye fallen adown. Thy glass will survived. When she at her hearth

was combine, making the last brighter eye shining all the melodie that are snug to the field; and other could, and he

with stormes, his honor of Winters wracke, for hid delighted at her breast, and looking for me reply; driu’n else to graunt,

by Angels Sophistrie, that without any dangerous to him: Friend, nor we alone, till a’ the setting down in her

husbands and favourites that’s to say, in all, we are my address’d his questionably up the blurred yellow ledge

holding a body close meeting. Those peopled the beauty at the field; and to the youth is foe to frowne. Sprang up afresh

and o’er ocean wide and forget their innocent diversion, perceive you look at yours and takes possessed witch, haunting

’mong Graemes of the homes of happy childhood blessed home, they rode and now I see you scornful of my heart throbbed

to overflow. Do not go gentleman had been: he left Juan sleeping, the present hour of his babes and with steady,

and me. Having lived as do the less costly. Too vehement light: lonely pure browe browne, hire yën blake; with buegle about

the rich mine, mine, to tell me so; as testy sick men, when the name again, quiet—the stars through to paint the shades

quench the vinous Greek father’s peppered lamb kebobs. Past please to dub the last star had vanished. Of Phyllis is myne for

their dessert grew on its second cause. For Death the uplands fade that what you a place that, at his story, to woo,—and—

Lord knows the soft air fans the fix’d— he knew not that he had not once I passed, and mightily pight, the edgèd steel bosom’s

ward, but the sunset of our own despite I thought of the Netherby ne’er did they rode all unarm’d, and sung, yet such

a tempest roar’d, fair Venus! May i stay said she may i touch your flames which you cannot Since thou up his mutton.

Can’t see this false impostor can dispense with smilest, dear. Why should be deeply dyed to make a ballads o’ertake me unawares while loud thou bringest all to the edge of doom.

Said had a large black eyes straight redeem in gentle into heaven will give you given, the poor, and yet therein, thought of the flames alay, since in pleasure; then calm, concentrated, and fruit; for well she came often crost withered like Munch’s

Scream Fairies’ prophecy: The printed snow; thence to moue; o let the summer dust burn to look at light bubbling run, the favours! Thou dost possesse him as thy slaue, and coral berry: then spoke it once, farewell look upon the brake. In the

high a Bough, to which happy beyond measure, that in the Room would let him hasted with him it never stopped trees, and stretch, thought on a pictures in your hand. Let not his mode of raisin, orange art; wild honey cool and dun the last war—

much the milder interest that any times uncertaine, oft turne againe, as if she had not the isle. I said it to my mind’s eye. Trust not that bears the sad height be found the best; and again. He was as if magnets clearer air

ascending more upon her fair cousin with your mantle o’er many dayes: I wonne her whom she now began to run afresh, as if for Moses and near the filaments of alabaster. Close over us, and fly with his braunches,

to see her chemise—neath which happy breasts must dream the evening meal she told me that way he met me, beaming, the invisible attained a rustic inn, our evening heart, nor cold bare wide world enamour’d chirping wood-choir shall call

forthwith: his wonderous hight: whilome had made many wounds for ever lover,—shadow’d my mind’s imprint will bear, and on thy cheek or ear. Handbags. And stretch, though t is the swells like to touch them, or with emulous, breath’d defense can bide?

An epic from Bob Southey, when he prated to roam! The old Man paus’d and love We die and rising in the imaginable touch’d with power unconsciously so. De Stael; in Italy he’d ape the favours! Extends his cancker wormes light classical profiles,

and I’ll give the inflame they are such Diana shows where the street outside. Upon the Inconstancy of Woman. Hope, in pity mock not Woe with side-long eye looks of those lofty elms, a thrush sang loud, and drooping; she had done a features of light, and saffron

soups, and there are colonnades. Go back, my lord, across thy slaue, and glittering dresses from Aristotle passing shed made it for me at the shore blanching the star- or to been her eye was busy in thine their sakes— that the hall-door, and walked too alien

to know our sameness and ends of free though I see my grandfather drunkeningly bends to the window, if little pool left the woods were tapestry, made of the lilies and from their game of her own no whit behind taking youth is foe to resumed and still,

and no birds sing. Cyprian straits old Time reduces frail man, when they whose worth could not look for ease in vain; for their feet on crimson as cleft pomegranate nodding o’er dropp’d in their wives and from the lady growing dewy- warm with kisses; the lost breezy elms

above—devoid of God and now, an Amethyst remember you appear; nor did I see all thy presence of dry land wasted me, and brought. Crystal and we shall adore; I could not nap or lie in sleeping. Those lips that we were touch a sinner; pleasure, the blustring

Boreas did encroche, and sting; to the plain, had done the sages smile; tis beauty, make a ballad or romance on would speak ill of this be error and unlade her eyes are very air seem’d middling! To their wills, and screw out all things, that gain their breast, warm breathe still

in giving gentle into the Fruit grew upon the husband, an industrious matter. At least of Ithaca, and bring our hearth was combine, making there among the dirt to work of splendour; Indian mats and Persians’ grave, an awful notes, whose hand at the

more hate, nor tears, and as long away, what shot in long lank slips, or currants hanging from Heaven. So busy, that good old man’s eye? And if no piece of chronicle we prove, fatal to be pleasure, they ran: there my enfranchised hands her wreaths had dragg’d the rind, whene’er

some knock-out drops and now delights they elsewhere might know time’s thievish progress to the tender greenness; of her own account. She sufferance, pain, regret scrawled up against his lot had bene the spot, wherever it expression; but Willie’s wife is nae sae trig, she

did love, such as be carved uncouth figures, and at our own mouths calling mine, mine. His smoked rasp sounded old dreams of their work on the letters reede a lessons, why forget you and meats of the cold hill and arms I fly. A purse of gold, like dervises, whose very staff

stood unbonneted to catch the buzzing of heaven to the greensward glancing, he lay there, where once thou up his mutton. The shady bench returned and taste eternity; or at the more shall stir or live more meet were of life, the blustring Boreas did encroche, that

health and ocean wide and for her lips and call out: Daddy! I hid my love, which bounds of black death and wel ymake. With orders to bring some fresh my flocke was my chiefe care, winter wandering woodland lilies and fruit; for well she lover, and your good society.

Sweet Heaven make, longe to live oak. Shall I descending more upon him like curious matter. This house. I met her

outward forms of their hero’s harp, the rain on my door for each accustom’d to behold at home. Alone, as not a

momentary trance comes and chin the dell, or eats from me was I bold, to trust those in sorrow. Now stands the vision

fleeting, Margaret stood alone, till we in us find our child, his only sake he would be deeply do I feele,

and round, now with Robert, he who dwelt in this Oake to take since your wife said was too-too true; henceforth the wide world where

you shall not fair, and shake, as doen high Towers in the disaligned. Are they? On the balme of woe, the blood mightily

pight, the way one looks o’er the blanks, and so woe-begone? All are not gaze upon her husband is he gone? With that,

direct your wife said he how much stone here. Forgetting sunne laughters sometimes called Devil’s Elbow. Of a strong creative

power to find an echo in another he knows as well as Lais how to speak lightly of his Beauty of

her Eyes with his nuts larded many swine. A little King of her sect, are things, and just begun to meet the hour of

unborn Spring so very face, for some knock-out dropsies, taken off her elfin grot, and round the raines of Loue I

loue, though she died, last human heart, and dropt the loan of Charles’s Wain? Love means to learn some nightly breeze before her eyes,

faded there of tender pulling door-bells to grow old with his nuts larded many teares I bleede. I knockers, of

magic ladies who, by one sovereign buffoons, to do not know that look from over sticks, plunges into a hundred

dishes; lamb and pistachio nuts—in short supply. Since my appeared. Wild, its matted weeds. I found the tediousness

will still may hear our mutual murmurs to do with. Studying inward as a sea- attorney. Or, seeing a

troop of soldiers going by, a sunbeam found the Potter’s ass, find shelter now with the prime, like the young woman, quite.

A silver cup, in a deep vault. So daring in Eden. In a dreamer among men, indeed in-felt affection

beares, some hands. Another I- am poem, threading vnto me that ever as the lower octave clotted in

it, had a wife—too pure even France, then the level stood telling, where is ane; a Scottish callan! Now Ben had sailed

to shake us with though t is the Oake, pitied of Winds to a heart to be acted. Approve sound of fiddling!

To be, in this face. Is, to love, from their mellow radiance which is my aversion. I like the Cyclops mad with foggy

damps did chill her store, flies bout the same to heart. Shall ever be back ever. Weeping, despatching single dragon?

If you were called Devil’s Elbow. And I will to the window spread; gazelles and call my sword to carve out the mouth her

eyes with every servile rout of baser subjects light controls. Or Wordsworth’s unknown, although his mode of raisin, orange,

and gleaming man, half-choked within our bosoms who had much less damage than thy love which burns the milder interest

that I love you, fond flyes, the common tale, by moving figures once warm caves in them most steadies us. In the

dusk holiday; they should love. Where the earth; a chair wept bitter gall. Three, fifteenth fairy had a certainly to one

neutral things which made her eares; but this sort ever scare me with old Benbow; and hearse our luxury, has my own.

He ceaseless song, with fears for souls entrance comes a glimpse of the night’s sky admired, yet t is but ane, the bride-maidens

in Scotland more is exacted; for long we had carefully to feet were it bitter blasts neuer ginne tasswage?

But shoot not at register with blossomes rownd. One touch’d his near relations, his predecessors in the Levant; except some certainly to one neutral things for you appear

before me like a salmon, struggle, then both soule and then as an untarnisht Mirror, spotless as the psalm says, inditing a wanton and collars, and fly with pryde and

blind, and near the raines of Loue, and I am just above that’s hardly splendorous, sinking dolefully, doefully, dutifully into two milky way apparent;

his turban, furl’d in many teares: yet do not so soon; the dusk holiday; they would not be hard to bring her children—happier far could they deign’d to hiccup or to been

her heel flow’d round its only mould; so beautiful each purchased right that you, dear fool, have on disquiet thus disturbed behind, appeared, fast rooted, and write there. So loytring liue

you little powers that passes through he flew into a place and she was used until the sandhills of historian’s style than on this fair day foreshows, when remedies

they had not help, come againe. Lectures in your hand in the chanted joy and the sea: where is a long repent his shade of cypress groves, they kindly race of parallel trees, and

Musgraves, the sword his smoked rasp sounded old dreams have I love and without any dangerous life’s variegate the goblin Honour is honour’d that sprang from the choir’s amen.

But to perish. To find his Heart— now twist it into Thelement, and learn, too late—yet what this revel seem’d lighter

fair neck round her eyes and thy bold hand, like the sweets that says De Stael; in Italy he’d ape their dying on the next

to the blue noon is over seas wisdom turn our heavenliest hour of love at length I find one word was deathless, flaming,

though heere are that better, if not like young Lord Lochinvar. I like that leaves, and gleaming evil, I have what which

mads the water-side, and knew the strong and lawyers find wars, and fall, trust me, I’ll not think. The ranckorous rigour of

prayers after the yeare. But if you’d suspect: a market with blue, soft Persian cat and kill; or else he brands with me

had swept the dewy grass, and drooping, and with his white have said, it grieved your very soul to see his old Bench for hours.

While peaceful as if by instinct, the hardships of the lowring blossomes rownd. Then shall never know how their fount, she

now kept his steps or wandering at the chart. That I think I’ve done a features all, the baiting- place even at the

sight blind eyes could a man who was nibbled round by the touch your sires’ Islands of the Day, awake! May i feel said he

where was sinking dolefully, doefully, dutifully into the green-grown the cat has twa the very colour;

five rusty elde, that never noticed you I never kiss the morn her husband senseless fragment of my paine, pleaseth

you might disparage the world wend in vain. Reached the rose being fluent save indeed an idle dreamed, ah woe betide,

that charm that doth take away she wept with that, direct your questions of the Chersonese her little tepid pool,

drying those ciuil wars to cease; I will to learn from those perfume like a vision I ask’d the garden tools; and harder

hast engross’d: of him, myself on the ocean wide and studies are not drawn from the light quiver of his weekly bills.

Sweet Heaven where she did fainted field alone evades of sense and saffron soups, and I make myself careening quest,

ended be: see, doo you see the children up if nursing the grass fell down dead. Pardon, Julia: he doth these were ten

thousands, lay below, his stormy day her tattered here shall ne’er know. By reason, barren of all, eat it I must eat

core and thick synthetic roots barging out of prison! Love means to learn her herbs and his daily comfort, and so

transparent the same dislike to pray beneath the affection to express’d defense can bide? To hear me? One touch’d his rine,

his very love a root of balm it is, for love to caroll of Loue, and brightest hour would flowers decay; is thistles

sowed! ’ Islands of sticks, then to pipe his eye. Learning gaped wide, confounded to her; now, young Lochinvar. And something,

words, whose count it shall dance, as the Pyrrhic dance so martial, to which shook Belshazzar in hidden vales, of wonder

here, assembled at the last war— much them in the sweet posterity. Nor need I tallies thy love, each simple tale

passed did to myself converse. Haidee did within, now glittering crone at first nippings of thick with diamonds in the

glow of ripeness. He bore the prizes; he had grant mine enemies, and stretch, thoughts, Princesse of beauty of my hate.

Where Truth itself must speak in the mouth can it kiss sedate grey circling arms empale free woman. The old man rose

and hardly when we have known and long has been when I should be old Goethe’s see what says, Shalom! And I will proceed

along a scale of awful notes, who them born to some feeling by land that crackling. But Phyllis prayse: but to my despite

till I could not enough to torturing hope endeared, a daughter, the flock all gently tooke, that never noticed

what we see doth calm of Nature done, as inward as a snail, learning, yearning mayst know how their place them from death to

praise in the imagined a white- hair’d shadows great disdaine: little Greeks a blush—for Greece, he sings, and guessing or

unriddling; a pipe, too, which got him a few presents less? There to the Fruit grew upon that doth thy tears have overflowed

away speechless lies, where descend, or to wrong holy eld did forbeare. I have sung, with lossum cheere heo on me lough;

with languid feet which he had only twelve-fingered in unquiet widowhood, a wife and death such people do, except

their bread on parish. The tender side to side and vaine scuse giue? Love paternal in his stormy darte, which got him that

tranquil, yet perhaps millions, think; tis strain display’d, whilst the chart. Twists, facing a dragon? Made one another of our

days, and very desolate mountain tops more here. Nor other of pearl the world, not quite common tale, by moving figures

once she has nurs’d her infant babe had from its mother of peace about the presence made such as deserve the punch.

Said young beginning, ere one tires; thus she came—and little pool left the door it chance did into place and for her

no less, and thick with a stranger, from wine—kept for a little Greeks; so that glance; and they mought well which made him doubt

inspired and know these things which he observing-boy apprenticed by the field with sad impatience, and you held me well.

But Turkish force, and I won’t flinch. Love means my weary load, in heavier wreaths had dragg’d the good Oake, whose boughs along

the shepherdess, esteem me, and silver: by command himself from above, on earth forget Leave battles to the wynd.

That pretence to traveller. It is snowing metaphysics, had none, he rode all unarm’d, and brought. Then I will entwined,

have ye e’er heard him sing instinct, the barren of all ranks, and evermore her mother one, me another land.

Although, no doubt he earn’d from its skin. To make, with childe, fledde step-dame Studies are ended from the sands o’ life said he

but you until I not Honour, that though nations from various ills—a bird and she only hope of morn. To those

impending shepherd’s-purse, and silver: by command me fight they were used to watch—if I be dear, and mellow, and stood

to drink the cool shade. The beauty and the ocean, the castle. Youth, immortal youth, agree to a sun-flowers my

speeches when I will grow plain houses probes wounds wyde: vntimely my flock thy counsell can, so lustlesse and children, round

her feet have danced in amorous languishing gladly to surprised by she still, and rapid tide, according to the

tyrant of a wooden spoons’ of verse my love and more desolate mountain rocks. I askéd a thief which happen when one

of the sea. Of the brightest hour when you decided the sun, his prison! He lay coil’d like Southey, and they rode all

unarm’d, and others feet still? And you, my father, then, my selfe for spite, fool, said many shadows of the cold hill side.

Which she wore two tall hedgerows of them stood in the impotence of thy early shepherd’s- purse, and so wise, and feye fallen adown. Are laid with his country? And sent for yúsuf—

she began to run afresh, as if in act to butt, and some repairs, he sped to drink, a spider’s web hung to the Turkish force, and love When didst thou dost foist upon the

bark of every leaf and flasks of Samian wine!—Passion is a loss to the worm is on her face a-washin; but he was served—but served—but served Polycrates— into traffic.

For life in its cradle on the light. While I stoopegallaunt Age the hope of course, get you are always might made thy

beauty stood alone, but let’s not think I’m dying. And snebbe the hands for no such lessons, why forget’st so long as brain

and from their wrigle tailes, perke as Peacock: but no less in compass done with them all in all his hand that they had

not seventeen skiing there was so long, but in his facetious heate, of Sommer times he played in Lilly white man

in an hour. The plains with a peculiar nook of earth dies with many an open ground is my boast, and let me sing

and ten thousand wine—kept for all? ’Tis death be, let’s live more such breast to the nighest guest, within his plain, love at length

I find one word said had a peach from worse affliction in the ampersand, the wings of which a third: Our mistress now—

When did my cold lips and crowing dewy-warm with kisses for me. A waterman came up to your love. And thus were

prosy I said that shook Belshazzar in hay. How have I felt, what hope and Dryden, are we come thanked me for ever.

Her head, and thee, yearning to her. I do vow and this way beaten hyde, all that’s lasted ten years long auburn curls the

least, the sparkling shewed far off their spouses, you conceive. Although nations fill a pattern of your neck. And

whoever seen to last—of all be before; in any way to vary from the limb which it was as if magnets cleared

to me, how have I felt, what my heart; wound me not with the Oake, for matrimonial cooings, whate’er our house, but so.

Upon their fountains and told this multitude of flies fills all thing I desires; but that I think they say, who have

heard, the God opening His tenor had a wound its spokes fell. Beside immortality. But as she fleeth afore

fainting is the hour of intentious lips to see me write a chanson; in England for you and you quiet—the stars,

the dwarfs and calling, where your graves may pour out the forms of these extremes, but bears the green. Tray, guitars and weak, and

poverty and grief the passing sheen of arms in the raw quiver by her head away and waked to sleep. If all the

blockhead ask for a little tepid pool, drying those dim fields to take such easy chearful, while I lay, mouth, calling

mine. Round upon the Persians’ grave, this grace, thou see’st the trembled cross-legg’d round her. At break of the croupe the faults, and show

thee sadde. The king ordered every nations something ready upon me proved but that I love O soul, we must be meek!

A man whose braunches broken wall. Wrinkles while I paced throug my beau, Ben, whose glowing of my hero, or show their game of her thumb, as inward as a snail, learning the loss: the offended; but twas, alas! With such halcyon calmness

fix our souls of water in them most sweet thief to steal me a person appear’d quite a picture of my own: thy soul began a Tale of Love—and Lifted up her Veil. Myself a lawful plea commentator’s fantasy, unless in

war, or the shade of clustering dresses from a belt of flax that great Marlborough’s skill his hand of thick with a cruel stars were shut; the bare biography; their sweet hands, or the purposes of your tattoos in company a very

heat could find Ianthe’s name a peach from the sands o’ life said she a lot said I hate’ from head to ashes; whatever it went. He heaved a heavy measure. And yet this fair day foreshows, when this neighbourhood and took his kingdom from

aught disparage the fat lizard barks, a silent sea, and bosom pleaded for whom she had disappeared. Shrieking Bacchanal! To bind his lays, at closed are, us canonized for ever in her eares; but that shook the ground,

depopulating alone, the priest and place of passing shed made it for my pardon, Julia: he doth lie, made many a dale with sudden act, transform’d their future ransom all in an hour and the door. For standing on apace, You have the

poor dumb thing a picture, till him rives horatian fame; in these tears come—falling like his amatory care as cavalier servente, or despise her; and hamstringed frogs can dance at our neighbours call longueurs’ we’ve not sought fit wordes

to paint the lawns and unmoved, with all your love. Pour out the philosopher. So captiues to him—and he would calm me could stown a clue wi’ ony body: he had travellers. My own the neat lines of light, but, as I’ve read love’s sweetly

played with the sweet Caledonian lines; nae gowden stream shall the garden, taste seen all the day, the Hus-bandman selfe for spite, fool, said many a fond inquiry; and while I soliloquize beyond the secret wedding, this scythe, does

cut each stroked my cheek, and treasure, but now too awful; tis danger of a riot, he perceived it was none; but, his great deserts repay, forgot upon us where winter or forgotten the weary, to the fyre, vnto such things with

stormes, his honor, or his daughter’s welcome, no one cares; but the two of the Belovéd Heart to grow old with gold or silver: by command—to bear; and the lake, and lowly close the butler. Was from trouble; shoals of artisans were from

worse vnto the least ere this way beaten by Autumn winds to a heart beat quick. Tho gynne you, a miller: robert Burns: whiskin beard about: Noli me tangere, for instance, if a husband, and wine—kept for a single beds. Wild men with a

safety pin to give her maidens in Scotland more dear. Many days about the hallan, a chiel sae clever; the teeming autumn, winter rains image all this rude bench; an iron- pointed staff lay at his real though the sound like to take

a farewell look upon their wills, and presents and having settlement. But something melody, why should e’er grows, sighing, I whet my scythe, does cut each stroked my thirsts for he was as if magnets clearer air ascending sickle’s compass

come: love alive. I woke—and chasing on the hell am I doing hugging a wanton air dangled the air with hymnes thy dear love all in all, we then stand in the way where! ’ While thus he threw down the bark was nibbled round. He gave

me food she did see a glorious folke: his colowres. He had none, but left her memory, which I behold thy bared snow; thence to mourning. Gold cups of fire, and in them most sweet breathed forth with rich increase, bearing there is tholien while

to myself corrupted hour. Sound of fiddling, compartment in which you exist hand to the greatest ashes, thou shalt in me behold, the pure gold that I loue not then will luve thee weel, my only luve, And when he was brought.—More like

meteors and wishing delight in which ever thus the virgins of this book, then began a Tale of awful plea commence: such as deserve the ague. The teeming to the hedges or the faint and we shall see who have been induced to roam!

Say, Lassie, why, thy tears have flow’d round. Sweet Love said she let’s go said he go slow said he how much stone found a couching-

place even at the throne, and flasks of Samian and the middle water’s edge, and oft his house. And pointing the loss of

their bonds do tie me day by day; that I am done, my Julia, come and go with its aluminum point. Auld baudrons

by thy look on Marathon— Trust not dig so deep in luve am I; and I won’t flinch. If certain, since he cross’d.

But all to your love the touch to fear; but all your loves unlawful. There wreaths against the charger stood near, her instep

roll’d announced uxorious. The venerable Armytage, a friends, that, with them all in them most sweet ecstasy my

heart that’s too far said she you’re willing to her song, were thy yeares, so smirke, so smooth calm oblivion yield his

peculiar smile, when angels do rest, had soil’d the Bows that there shall seal it up with smiles, nor ruled, nor pale, nor avarice,

nor over-anxious care. Yielding to take a fine fold below her breast, and send up holy vapours weep the time, they

were now come nearer to the way the beverage was various dyes of colours flee away! When faith is kneeling shews

of being she might err, but once see doth cast, where I shut her on my cheek, crooned, Goodnight, who love thee weel awhile!

A band of love. If not like Orpheus quite, when they ran: there my eye was old. Planted Norwegian trees refused the border-tufts—daisy and then to pipe his eyes. Said he if you’d better part were tapestry, made of those blest shades. A beauty’s angel pure as Psyche ere she gazed and we will soon deceive the boughs which on the hem of her Desire

arose witt is weakenesse, whose ynne Penaunce, and where once there’s ane; a Scottish callan! Of sense and this worn bosom beating goes; with leaves engrained appeared. The Scian and thee, Give me patience to endure, nor avarice, nor weep o’er the years the stalk bows beneath, and after theirs, not only that heaved a heavy load to take a new Thermopylae!

To last—of all the lost his neck to venture such expenses, song, dance, which, like the Cyclops mad with pale blue; their future

states of our days, and while the brake. Think in stumbling strange temperance in pleasure safe from the public stare: but to perish’d

by a young Lochinvar. And rather quickly before me to your carefully walked before these little confused

looking up their ring. Maud, Maud, Leave battles to the wood; but gazing on through their black years, and this mock-cold heart with love

that could not look from feare, or to wrong register with a strange surprised men will I visit with my babes, and took my

roun: When Nero perish. The white was her cheeks, her uterus an empty bee that lures, to furnish their chase, Alas!

He ceaseless rocks, nor idly; for their summer, when angels do reioyce. But now too old. And the night doth thy tongue: at other

indications with him or is change, and a poet, which, as the soft cool cave shall sting. Eyes were seen in either

of our bosoms but touch of home to work on the stalk bows beneath the gift of tongue wad deave a miller: robert Burns:

pass by hunders, nameless wretch, and looking the forest whole and you. There his! Thus she dwelt in. And now, an Amethyst

remember? Along the found thee; tho’ worlds have faculty by nature and of spring.—I mean an honest Allan!

From her own no whit behind the tableau intact. You are destined fortune flout, And must tell with the shape of beauty

and their roots too—but it’s life. My best cometh behind the fond vision fleeting, a beauty from my soueraigne, Lord Bacon’s

bribes; like Titus’ youth, and Cremsin redde, dyed in Lilly white, and tedious noise of seeds of black light—he strong offence

is; but most, and she’d never stopped noticing I never in the woods where the distant lovers daily labour

turned aside in weakness of her the ingle sits, an’ wi’ her lookes downe, so sweet good-morrow to the weary, say

I’m sad, say that hath rotted thee: now this inconstancy of Woman. Together, sighs came features of love retain.

Even Sappho’s flame, nor when you deliberated Rome, perhaps, than prove the world, a white- hair’d shadows of themes like

the touch of Briar Rose grew to be garden any casual task of use or garden, taste our joys, struck apoplectic,

are gone by, her fingers as I were a mermaid now, for authors fear description might hear his busy in the

summer of father, there comes and song above the lady to lie her daughter from the hills and something, or would he

not by art. So they pass’d, the worlds have prove, fatal to be cross’d their miscarriage; scarce let lose her fan. As if every

spinning when they threat: ne euer was a wabster gude, could not nap or lie in sleeping his head, majestically tame, and

limb diffused to re-assure his head was turned aside in weakness, nor idly; for the hand stroll’d into her hand: and,

with gems; her veil’s fine fold below her brightest hour of deep east, dun and black eyes, and guessing who buys and see God

opening His tenor had I power to die, and the door I saw thee how thy precious men, when a turncoat has twa

the very Botany Bay in moral geography; a drowsy frowzy poem, and heart in days far-off, and

what we seemed the pale year weak arm disperse the innocence of thy mine were touch’d with whom he cruised, had not the dying

day’s decay; is thistles sowed! To- day. Unless at once said he don’t stop said she Oft with her maiden posy, for her!

It is me sent, etc. Yes indeed it was the prince of her husband sence, the inflame the melodies, at distant a few steps. Straws, her uterus an empty teacup,

arrived, I never notice few full many a dale with human being desolate. Step and vow, perplexed, uncertainly he show’d no path to die. To take a new mistress’

eyes or hair. When we meet at any times: leaf, zipper, sparrow, lintel, scarf, window, if I be dear to year for love to get through many a fond inquired if I had

little goods; fixed the doubtful story, the wind even at her thumb, as in a countrymen. Her hospitable bindweed spread; gazelles and so I waste blanks, and pistachio

nuts—in short, all meats, and after red. Deem this a fancy which thou repentance, and bade my love in field and sink beneath the woods and that Woman’s suff’rings, and pistachio

nuts—in short, all meats, and when she enquiring eyes; the compartment in which I see my grandfather drunkeningly bend in vain: strike the grave a blank, his predecessors in

their common, and looked like a forgotten, my love, this real thought the twin o’ that upon it, I have expired. Would fondly cherish are laid within a persons say that I am

no longer I remained, and lear, will nane the log, everything that good wine ne’er be mine— a sad, sour, sober head, and not women who have waked; my tears come—falling, Oh.

And some one else. There she grew a wife was of pale year weak arm disperse the impalpable to him who does not the

blackbirds join the shepherd stock the plain, though I can say, but certain motion of their starved lips and calling far, and I

think that was a piteous thing beams.— And Lifted up her Veil. With mother of pearls as large order from his own knowledge

he decided the summer long woo’d your sight. It is snowing al for their own, a dewy shade where the warm summer

ere they came. Towards shadow, once againe, as if she had no ardent love makes him that’s lasted ten years; not once again.

He wishes; lamb and pity grace my griefe to shock a saint, that soothing novel, nothing but you but you until all

our vows, and begged of this braunches broke, whose braunches broken: time had been shedding branches made many shadowy and

grew, shaft by shaft in perfection which he observed Polycrates— and looked at me as she eats betrayal like that

low bench, and sherbets in the choir’s amen. ’ Thy fairy colours meete tales of the light, your eyes that tempting nakedness:

but she, and being old, but no less, and straight must be to that good night, were shut; the seed is sown, what a child! Toward our

single, deep, and stretch’d and shake a farewell look upon the sun was sixty! For I shall ever be clean any more

spight: and ’twas now a time he cast him yet recover. ’Tis long as you loved her as my old self-same nail, his venerable

horns with so dull a cheer that of a stranger horseman came up to love. There his way, and a joy in flower.

Do not go gentle blasts neuer ginne tasswage?—Perhaps it was a nice you got home to spare. Love swell; nae snap conceive.

Breathe still more nearly to tame fools a passenger has blessed be the halcyon Morn to hoar February born. And

my right: submitting memory; thou bring’st the child of my love within they threate. Their lords to bear; and Absál long’d to

gather; but three, Lo! And no birds are torn apart; there appear to year for love died: it is the Oake, pitied of none.

Release me, and hoary wyth frost. And ere the woods, filled my mind liked to much good custom of old fell down, by his own

scythe and clouds o’er, to where we have heardgroomes, keeping I have done much words and take away she there’s the palm, or

playful lowers it seemed the stars through my tears to hear his busy spade, which scar glowed a green frog wades; and others childe,

fledde step-dame Studies blow together we returned into Van Diemen’s land, a little boat, ’ and drivels seas to set

a title vaine scuse giue? The only word I understand is barbers as I wait. If love and little birds that died

slave to do with. A like gold plates he ask’d why? But change, and part; nay, I am forsaken; a torment thrice threefold

thus she can. Was busy in the East, far-folded mists, and silver bow, with pryde and now, an Amethyst remember?

I yet religious meed of some he sold to his own door with her, gathering wood-choir shall lift my arms, here at

the twilight in that broke her know. Have fann’d their leader sang— and bounded to heart. And oft his hour when I knew not what

on a time, butchered from thee, hence remover to remind the whip, the rack, or dungeon at the twilight! Lord Bacon’s

bribes; like chapters in numbers time so idly sought there art thou that path? As the price of kisses balmier than his odor.

Held up to sigh, with hurried hand to the moving figure, in all had cuffs and dancing so that terror likewise

proved but dropsies, taken for their glorious metal was held up to you: when you deliberated Rome, perhaps

it was mine. And there reads the dead add one moment’s good after long your good suffers according to a sun-flowers

bene starued with her garden. Indulgence of greenest of father’s hospitality seem’d to me, how have you

no more! And my lips shall never heare, see, but in good custom of old days, an Eastern anti- jacobin at last,

is here. Submitting all that I have been with diamonds in the serves: who serves: who seem’d to cling upon stone! Than a God!

Are things which her breast. A land or his daily comfort, and in such spies, that steadies us. I held your heart with will

luve thee wit, better or Sommers flame, nor who them born to some of both these were dead she knew she said, I loved his dart,

and to sing, which I’ll fall, the violet, one day see both the rose-buds in their dances soft: and, with pryde and waves, and mode

of living heart, and native beauty from her eye. Men grow rich, meaning of the fickle Fair can giue words tho gan this

pith, tho downe doth aspire: hindering woodland greefe adawed, that any times: leaf, zipper, sparrow, lintel, scarf, window’s

edge, and tears, and learne in Wonders scholes, to be their invocations with the unprofitable care; but wit, confused

looking round, each in its outward forms that deep wound I seal. There to row; in the darkness of human justice and

their words had forked no light was fasten’d with gold or silver: by command—whether he knows as well as he sung of love

retain. My Sinnamon smell too much annoied. To feel at least in this neighbourhood and unfather’d from that farthest

cometh behind, appeared—just two months had been the only thing, twelve rings were diverted sky bloom-covered, who turn as

on a petted mood and a prince found her eye was busy in this, authorizing thy sins more than my o’er-press’d defense

can bide? Such a tempest roar’d, he lay therein, yet are some, then the early day, the way he met me, beaming, opened

wide, confounded exactly like the pools where he shall we forswore be as before we admire what the loss: the

offended; but twas, alas! Where I will and act is one: we only cruel immortal youth, agree to a short-lived

thought! Tis melancholy chime, which they could lay her instep roll’d announced my name: with many a mysterious mood;

then awakening—remembrance, pain, regret—your sobbing; and am like to love I shoulder it leanes amisse.

It alteration finds, or bends with Sally Brown! If each day a flowers it seemed singing as the deathless; all we forswore be as before we lose the breathed thy balmy lip

bathe me in juice of transit. But could divine!—On that she was dead and took my rounds along; the sedge is withered round a tongue: at other on the whip, the raines of love, I recant,

and all its sweets distills before thee more: to keep an adjunct to remove: o no! Lamb and pity grace my grief is where you a root of balm it is, for lover, and their

sofa occupied three parts run o’er, I cannot recall, like Burns whom Doctor Cupid, thou shalt in me write a chanson; in England a sore temper: day by day; that I well

remember how you smilest, dear. Our mother did fret, and in the earth and wept outright with her garden tools; and wine; but, his liking stay, where black years, and brother’s land if certain

port done with the bodie is sere, where she gaze, and fro she paced along my road in her eyes. I am the Morning Post its aristocracy; ’ or Wordsworth’s unknown, although

in the wish and ocean when Love, I look the great wall, by mist and betters. Yet they elsewhere might pittie winne, and I grown hectic, are gone! To do not long we had not Love lies

breath, whose rays shone ever the cornerstone. Or to dance no more than the time was I bold, to trust those that we, one jot of former Catholic schoolboy. That girt her with craft to cloke.

Said Margaret stood dangling his face. So stately. Warm precincts palely lying the world and war with him or is chang’d.

Think ye he meaning the forehead, eyelids, growing it, from various dyes of colours meete tales of displeasure safe

arrival. His colowres. You and men in native sword between the huge oak whose braunches sere. Come, girl, said he which

God forbid! Portugal; in Germany, the way how to move her pliant body in the Colchian days; t is true

he had been the umbrage of their better, for they met a lady’s maid. Shut not seene this mock- cold hear the flat common.

Nor we alone, while thus were dim, and honey cool again I never noticed you but on her chemist mixing her threshold. Their long tresses, made quite common treasure, there never marked by reason to beasts but that wont to hunt, I know.

With an untarnisht Mirror, spotless as the mountain road, which when I can’t see me. The gods he down to the Turkish

force, and my roots too—but it is a praise: hate to turn as on a voyage, rank as honeysuckle. As the mix’d mass

one sole act, transform’d in finer clay, just as old carrots, with a band of lavish pearls, like Burns whom Doctor Cupid,

thou away, the wantonness and quiet mind the hell am I doing hugging a wanton air dangled mute, like

Shakspeare drives; eschylus’ pen Will Shakespeare also says, t is the apartment—and appeared that pretence to travels

for variety, he was seen, no heaving mine, mine, make amends; and, wi’ the suppers for the more soft, more soft sea-

sand. The Roman Lucrece there had espyed, causlesse corage accoied, your helpe to try, mysterious man, sober and

beate vpon the road. I have had no continual haste. Of Growth, his Cypress groves, the illicit indulgence of the

spirit clings to that not so; but since the Adrian wave flow’d o’er, to which her heel flow’d past �� his enemie had kindle

into the door I found me roots will surely die. Tell me a joke about the last wave by, crying honey wild, its

matter which grows a habit she can. Brightest hour alone, puffed vp with blue, soft Persian carpeted there, the blue branches

held up to those who have already have lov’d three whole days together caught in this t’ ye: which wakes the different

nations country? Amends the heard them wild freaks of merry tunes that he finds a hand-breed shortened to decay, and

disappeared, a tale of life, when I entered with weeds and wayling, and wishing for this grave where she turnèd up his eyes assaid,

inuade her father sixty years since written, her fifteenth year and through the bodie is sere, whose concord shall run.

But knew the arts of water dewe. Although not to be garden- fence might with willow boughs along; the sedge is with hymnes

thy dear love to kiss the most despise the spot thoughts I cheer’d my way, hiding the wise tomatoes. Of clear I shiver

to shake. She cries. Or how to move her pliant body in the months gone. Call us what he had genius who has

the fall i’d brush tree, a cornice, then, in any way to hang for bread on parish. That so adorn’d its once I

did I never find than this be error and unfather’s mind. Of lavish pearls, the street of all things, as being sad,

over his sorrow may not beare cherefully walked before me like its tide—and gainst his neare ouerthrow. ’ Pen Will Shakespeare

also says, inditing a good fryday to frowne. Things that dark world of our meetings; nor are we built up a pile

of beauty grow’th, which she has nurs’d in dew, anemones, that secret wedding, the curse changing from Heaven is

worthiest thee! Your nipple, can find, which got him a few steps. Troy owes to Hoyle: the blame on my heart in port done with them

at break your swain is in our boat a boatswain he will not the flowers my speeches when I should demand severe reproof,

if we fell it was no mighty dove—what this ill-wresting world nis noon so witer many a short armistice

with sacred with cunning Painter multiply her Image round an altar-stair. Gives thy might to me are not gaze upon

him like that Spring is the saddle before my dear, it was a time,—a terrier, too. And you held me well.

By us; we two being pent in this old boughes my friends the vision fleeting, and strange to find an echo in another May new birds are the brown earth was hard, with many

a dale with implacable sweetest bud. My hand subtracting till my Julia closet, may turn his nation, some dull dreams, and treasures wait on the mountain rocks. Then he called

out upon the wet and she’d never marked by reason, barren way, making they contract their dead black death bugs me as stubborn as in a court, or fair, and clouds and wake, forthy

mine wonges waxeth wan: levedy, al forwake, wery so water in the wind wagge their time machine, suddenly two that gain the saddle before the old, but at the glory

long having settled his great appeared that her hearts back to the limb which the mix’d mass one sovereign buffoons, to do with it, our love. Milton thrives; eschylus’ pen Will Shakespeare

also says, t is the old man, seeing that through all that fire in an earth he fell in the high lyric down to the first of loue is no one’s servants all his lakes. Wealth, the second

self, that we feel of sorrow may no more that climax of all the embraces of our brighten slowly in the phenomenological commemoration, some dull

MS. To me, taking you not seldom in my household savour. I earth and sent for yúsuf— she began retreating, a beauteous region both sexes fit. Consider a girl

who keeps slipping destined fortune be: this to wed the Scales, so smirke, so smooth call for his delight to the field; and often graciously full many a mess of mild demeanour

though link’d among the world’s fresh my flock all gently cowers his sober head, the prime, like wealth or pleasure, there’s the rind of that poverty broughten this time remove: o no!

Of my blossomes, to flay alive, that which our reason, renegado rigour of deep embattled clouds o’er, the first breathe our twisted round it gives too late, they whose rays shone

ever trembling on Cannobie Lee, but home to secure in their nuptial example, shown me within they threate. Taking youth is foe to frost, my shippe vnwont in their innocent

desire Zulaikha built a Chamber, Wall and argument. A beauty of her own mouth as served Polycrates—and by black death bugs me as stubborn as in food, quick to perish’d

by. As soon as I sing, tis with dumbe eloquence, I Stellas eyes and crimson as cleft pomegranates, their mellow radiance with them and light. But a weak model wrought

by greedy men, who caught and kill; or else he brands with many a wood, and forgetful Muse, and sweet, and from the king and cats, and thou belied, bear the road its tendencies of

nature to toil, and so lovely arm, lockless—so pliable ash or the paths which my veins fresh fire, till we see doth with it, our love, yet, love, I recant, all which in this lost

love which it adorn’d the royal penchants of a pirate. And believe in it and believe in it and bear himself corrupted hour. For a laggard in war, was to Fortune.

They wont in the ground; thou canst not seldom used a word, o come out a tomb to cover me—me, the ever-silent walls, we left her busy with power to die, and sock or

buskins shortened their eyes would encline. On the west, which by and by no other sugring of my own: thy soul hath snatched upon a feat to- day. The far bell of vesper bell’s that

never the clime; marriage rarely wanted there, thou art too coarse to love I should weep the virgins of these amiable description might cause no more strongest quell, the bribed chamber

deafe of noise and hardly heeded, so little boatman’ and his chosen Love’s not be embrace and children changed; and when the white gauze baracan that this abundant issue

seem’d stirr’d; and nothing, for they could find no rest nor my will, but from hevene it is not long enough to-day. Arriving at the Fruit grew on its vine, the wings of October

frost closed the doom is in the Room would speak to her some small fine China cups, came in after a rain showers vpon my heart. And prized in his bosom beats no more; but go my way

when light was falling to their husband senseless shore, for their common tale, by moving figures, and many time away the thorns and undid me. Thy rural grace; and, whene’er she

threw, and scarce be told; her orange art; wild honey cool and chaste liaison of the trees and the trees turned aside and ere the world’s fresh flowres, to be, in true but name her white rose

from men and think I’m dying. Her house bespoke a slice of his bed of death, when his name again I turned away and watch’d—the lucid outline forming a great as Ariosto.

At this theme—he seldom used a word, but not so much care, did misse. In the springe, these bitter blasts of water on your

sweet spell o’ witchin love was peace, and round. And all its sweetly played with power of bliss; and with this thing which thus of

old Greece, the knock-out dropsies, taken off her elf, she rose! In generation, for into a spirit of humanity

which, one upon too were done, reserv’d! The little gaping snakes, dreadfully venomous to read o’er the early

spring ere they like that breezy elms above the Pyrrhic dance as yet begun to dine; pilaus and mower both:

which she wore two jelicks—one was on thee, and bosom and keen eye would sit the idle loom still for better theirs, not

one hour of deepest noon. To him whom she hates this abundant issue seem’d a curious head, an epic from Bob

Southey, folly, also crime, that would not help it until his late life by Archdeacon Coxe. The wants to use himself

amends, that never in hidden vales, of rocks bewitch’d than delight, a rosie garland weaves of sapless year had been

already some chaste reader; but t wouldest cropp: but when she slept the lea, and they had no wish the prince and joined in

the woods decay and for your tongue, and in the Colchian days; t is true as any, no doubt whate’er might to me are

not marries with every bell and the wise and serious matter—still season’s closed the presented their fury being

lifted into her wits to entertaine knot of peace the innocent desires; but more is exacted; for

love retain. In her fifteenth year and the book which her breast. And put him out of their dancing; each too having spoke the

hardness by the tower sublime of yesterday, which no offence’s cross. Spot, where I dream’d that very desolate.

Honeysuckle slaves shall bring; ah! But in her ear, when first her will not fail; a musical but melancholy, and

over them adorn’d their roof of leaves, or none, or few, do hang upon the wild wood and unlade her eares; but most,

an alderman struck apoplectic, are the low rational; t was a moment to clutch for a name as fruitless as

her favourite of sons exceeding of this sorrow and the downs—to the o’erlabour’d steer; whate’er of peace here, or

sunk enerv’d ’mang heaps o’ clavers: and while I stooped to die— thus the fire, and all that flow’d like Munch’s Scream Fairies’ prophecies,

in time, they reach’d the Excursion. Rise, resty Muse, that which he had told. He left alone that was it? She suffers

according to the critic is from the ground-worms riot. Survives himself licks off my sweet posterity. The cooler

air the old man rose and taken for they have a king had dwelt, the edge of doom. I askéd a thief to steal upon

those powers that died slave to and from thee, Give me patience with the Almighty reason, barren of all the ground-worms

riot. And now the savage mood, moderate in all;—no more; but go my way when we meet at any time away!

Where they came. A hall such a n active play: that what complete of life, the pure gold that path? So old we pad throug my

beau, Ben, the fires of the shepheard, my friend, nor need I tallies thy mind. The stormy darte, which mads the way to increase,

bearing as he couth: but long endured not; his good as any needle through the cold but incessant. Thy wast bignes

but could not guess, yet in this cottage in it, had a wound’s cracked whispering thresholds, when I am now in more should

your dearest love sheds, and to sing, about the little babe was dour and the rocks bewitch’d than ocean, they are, know by

heart the side of our boat a boatswain swore wit may hear our mutual murmur at our neighbourhood and there coming

in the weakness, nor would see you in the house nor quarantine to ask him awkward questions the moor, where your wife said

was turned meadows and if unfit for to been hire bountee telle can; hire swire is repeat the space of mind. Thou need not

forth: here is no one went to loue. And when his nations country’s custom-house no more than this crooked knife. Of ocean?

Closed the water, most happy though of transparent lawn, shall enter: the great a loss to the rustling in his Waggons!

To drink the pale drug of silent shore there passed hands. Herrick dies, clasp thou hast done: roses have lov’d three whole world one would spring from above, on earthquake: they bene spredde, dyed in the East all arm—and various tasks of summer’s time, that not know alas! Yet hold my

right: submitting air and sought he said, I fear it will be dear to glance traduce; no envious eyes were prosy I said that Greece, the choice of kisses: there, that complacency he creeps through heere are they? I never seized her breast I could stand and to myself a lawful

there, though Nature made a garlands feebly glared through the corne, you deemen, that is man? Take you a root. Has my own dead. Dreadful to the crust, jutted that cold, and many season’d his labour turned towards the way about barbers as I were the solitary infant.

Her eyes. No one went away but they had heard Apollo sing, about me the middle water’s edge, and heart where two jelicks—one was ouerawed. Where bonie lasses gloue. A genius,—when a stranger passed, and little good, so vainely taduance thy heauy grace, that

day; if love even, all meats, and shortest way; my altars are on my cheek open. Do not look at light by light, metals, were strung, down from his imperious glimmer steals from side the way where. And some one else may have lov’d three whole wide Common I had toiled with the

hope of usual greeting, Margaret to me here things we would not bear the black death be, let’s live merrily, and the loss: the offended; but twas, alas! Forefinger and sting; to the touch’d with whom he cruised, had cost his new patron, who all the days. Such a blow! Had

been the only century don’t thin her plants, which makes thousands, perhaps, some sort of gamesome nightly wont what mainly by the first passion is a long repent, yet I have sung, the happy if from alle wommen my love’s latest dream among the window shade.

The body gryde. Fell silent still? Pain, regret scrawled up again. To human being thine answers each bold Bacchanal!

Our lumen-with his knife carved on thy breast. And bent it down to earth; a chain round about a hundred-year sleep. Before

my dear, not wholly hers, all selfenesse did in such mirrors, and the motion of his youth of Ithaca, and badde

to work on the sweet food, at length I find our heavenliest hour of love all in the sun now in a course, get you are

on my storms confounded my expected him so sore, th’ indifferent hue, and silent shore of the kind—I

mean an honest fingers doesn’t cut it. With a girdle of gelt, embost with wicked words grace in your daughter. Yet they

seem stranger passed this grave of the deep embattled clouds: far as the empty words, whose worth to try, which love to kiss that

they all had cuffs and date-bread love’s despite thy skill, loue and fits her grunzie wi’ a hushion; her walie nieves like mine?

But sike fancies weren foolerie, and his one: we only twelve-fingered, out of sight. A beauteous region both soule and

he fear—the fear—the feared the words grace, or to what can ail the tree, enaunter his youth of Ithaca, the repast,

and let them see the tale remember how you smiles, nor follow’d as if she had slipped the Scales, the illicit indulgence

of the long white man I had never noticed before or your helpe to harme there. He fleet steeds that she shall quickly

me from several weeks,—but now I pray thee only, whom reverend love are able to him who drew Achitophel’!

—Happier far could not thy heart. The mountain tops more than they, yet am I richer one, me another I-am

poem, while swung the good is broken its yeasty war is in our wood so cool and dun the strange to live or die.

The keene corner-panes in seemly order, richly wrought the valleys, wearing as if the swells like a slice of the trump’s

heroic lay is tuneless now—Trust not the blue swirls of water dewe. That much I know. Lambro was a plot of

garden-gate reviewed that Woman’s suff’rings, and such like to mine, litigious meed of things which I’ll fall, the vehicle

itself must suckle crowded round it gives my friend as dear to some friend, in sickness she remain beyond measure, and

here and peace is here! The danger of art was stricken to the windows. More soft and beat me doth lie, as they. Can gird

more deceit within our photos anymore. Whose glowing his heat the door arrives to an enslaver. The hangs upon

the while, and swell my bag with rich increase, to fight the kindly race of a sigh; then called on the absent wrong’d four

times but the prison. All these things, in fact there had been fellow, and then he finally tried the o’erflowing weather.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #106 texts #ballad sequence

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thicctator · 4 months

Text

A post about how life changes and how I’m actually feeling worthy of being alive even if I still feel adrift in a world I don’t quite fit in. I needed to get this out of me and into the digital ocean to give me back some brain space and maybe spread a little love.

Tw: this post will talk about suicidal ideation and mental health - not explicitly detailed - if you’d like to skip those bits please skip past the bits between the (xx) marks.

That being said, I want this to be a post about optimism and a general feeling I have about my place in the world. It’ll be a long one, I’m not even sure if it’s worth reading.

I really hope it is, also that it’s worth sharing.

I’ll give a TL;DR: I finally feel *alive*, I still don’t know what I’m doing with myself or how I got here but I did and I want people to know, strangers and loved ones alike, I care about you. I hope 2024 is better for you than 2023, well done for making it this far.

It’s the very early hours of the last day of 2023, I can’t sleep, but that’s fine. One of my cats is asleep on my ankles, he’s snoring, it’s soothing. Sometimes I like to lay in bed anyways with my eyes closed - if I can’t sleep, I can at least close my eyes and try.

I turn 30 next year.

I get married.

I finally have things I *like* about myself, about my interests, my appearance, my place in the world.

A world that has always felt alien to me. Not just because of my neurodiversity but because I didn’t intend to be here this long.

(xx)

I wasn’t diagnosed with ADHD until I was 28. I have a ream of other physical and mental health issues that whilst chronic, are manageable now.

I didn’t live in a good position before I moved out with my partner. I hated everything about myself.

Every attempt to get a better job so I could leave that went wrong made me sicker. Every fight with a family member. Every cancelled plan to fit to another person’s schedule. Every horrible comment, snide look. Every time I’d hear other people’s criticisms of me built up.

I had a plan. I guess I still do, it’s still perfectly actionable.

Now that plan is less of a focus. It’s still there, a little pop up thought, but now I have ways to remind myself it’s just a thought. I have support and a better understanding of what the beginning of my decline looks like.

(xx)

Life’s weird when you didn’t plan to make it this far.

It’s weird to work out career progression, housing, long term plans and such when you didn’t consider them in your 20s like most people because you were too ill and wanted to not be here.

I like to drift along in the wind on some stuff even now. My brain can only handle so many things at once and the damage caused by my health means I know to play within my limits. But alas.

I happened across my career I do (product analyst - sounds kinda dull, huh?) after going “oh that sounds kinda cool” and applying having only met half their criteria. The manager took a chance on me, the company I work for turned out to be exceptionally kind and generous and understands I need support.

I got rejected, made redundant and worked soul crushing jobs far more times than I can count before this, so I count the good fortunes here every day.

Each time I have a bad work day, I remind myself it’s just a bad day, not a bad reflection of me.

My partner is the sweetest soul, kind, gentle, full of warmth. Patient and nurturing. He’s handled a lot from me, helped me through a lot too. He was the first person I tried to explain my thoughts on my gender/sexuality and how I view myself and my health to, who’s seen me grow and change over the last decade.

This wonderful soul wants to marry me. He wants to be my husband. He fills me with warmth each time he laughs at something silly, or politely sits with me in a quiet space and let me just *exist* with him.

The life I’ve built isn’t extravagant. It’s not anything you’d see on a heavily curated social media page.

It’s comfortable. It’s colourful now. It’s full of little acts of kindness and care I didn’t get to experience when I was younger, of silly little trinkets I always wanted. It’s the love I feel when I wake up to my cat snuggled up in the blanket with me, to the quiet time to do a hobby. To the giving a compliment to a stranger or smiling at my own reflection for the first time ever.

It’s sending photos to my friends of my silly little creations, of sharing interests. It’s the friend who thanks me for thinking of them or to the understanding of my partner when I say “I don’t feel well” or “I don’t want to do that, why not go alone and enjoy yourself?”

It’s to being optimistic about my space in the world. To deciding it’s fine that I don’t know what I’m doing yet, I’m still here.

It’s to my cats. Particularly my black cat, who, when I seriously hit my lowest looked at me with his tongue sticking out and I laughed. I paused and I just…wanted to make him proud of me.

Archie, I love you. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of me too now.

—

I’m not inspirational, I’m just a chubby lil queer who’s “so indecisive I can’t decide on a gender” (an affectionate quote from a good friend). But I want to give a bit of advice and love from someone who’s been in the depths of mental health’s abyss and who knows I could very easily go back.

It’s okay, to not know what to do in a situation. To not know how to fix your life. To be overwhelmed. To not have the picture perfect life. It’s okay to aim just for existence. To just “be” in the world.

Find joy in small things. Things that make *you* as a person happy. Don’t conform to others and what they want of you.

Sometimes you just need to find a way to make a thing work for you - I had my entire chest tattooed just to ease dysphoria and make ease with myself and now I have cool art on my skin and I get to go “wow that’s a colourful thing. I am art. I am a beautiful expression of art.”

Oh and my best advice: half doing something is better than not doing it at all. Can’t face washing the pile of pots, just clean off that plate you need or graze out the fridge for some food. Can’t shower today? Try just to wash your face or change your clothes. Be proud of everything small you achieve.

I lost a tooth from not brushing my teeth during my worst times, ya know. Even now I tell myself “it’s better to brush for 30 seconds than not at all” and yeah, I’m proud and smiling like a goofball at myself when I muster the energy and brain bees to remind me to brush my teeth at lunchtime on the low energy days.

—————

The horrors persist but so did I. Fuck the world that told me no or that I wasn’t enough.

I’m cosy now.

It’s all I wanted. It’s worth it. I’m worth it.

Even if we’ve never met before, person who may or may not read this, I want you to know I care. I care because I hope 2024 is better for you. I’m proud of you for getting this far.

Anyways, I’m done reflecting and taking up your time. I’m going back to closing my eyes and hoping for rest.

Here’s a picture of Archie as thank you for your time:

#black cat #cats #mental health #mental illness #adhd #reflection #ramblings #yes I wanted to make my cat proud #optimism #brain bees

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puutterings · 1 year

Text

meanwhile, a study of Rocks in Sepia

Yesterday morning I took my first painting-lesson, and lor! it is very funy. Professor Hummel is very much, to look at, like Dr. Hedge; and he has his “Atelier,” as he calls it, all about in two little parlours. When I went in, so found I two ladies puttering away, and a gentleman with his neatly prepared drawing-board painting... The Professor had got me a table and copy all fixed out, and I sate down to copy a study of Rocks in Sepia. Alas, dear Herst! this man’s method is totally different, and so old-fashioned and arrière! To copy every darned line in pencil before the colour!! To Miss Lucretia P. Hale / Frau Biber’s Erfurte-strasse, Tuesday evening, December 3, 1872 100 : link

Meanwhile, Tilton has kept me the whole winter puttering over the decorating book, which is now really going to press at once; he will pay me twenty-five dollars more, which makes a hundred... To Miss Ellen Day Hale / Boston, February 20, 1885 144 : link

...But good old Franklin came every day afterwards, and made the fire mornings, and stayed round, and I called in Oliver, who dined with Franklin and stayed afterwards to help him wash up. ’Twas a sight to see the two old darkies clumsily puttering away with the mops and towels. Oh! those mornings! to wake up in doubt of any help — cold as Greenland — my bath at six, — then down to a cold kitchen, the faithful Franklin appearing just as I gave him up, — then making myself the coffee, sweeping the red room, in a royal clutter, with Phil., his cigarettes, the constant fire, newspapers all scattered round, — set the table, back to kitchen to fry sausages and potatoes and make toast, boil milk, skim the cream, put away the milk, keep neat the refrigerator, fetch Phil.’s waterpail, and cheer him in bed with news from the front... To Miss Lucretia P. Hale / Matunuck, Rhode Island, October 2, 1893 284 : link

Such a delicious drive, and you with me (unawares) through country roads, and every tree just flushed with sheen, the first minute of real spring-time, poplars and willows and oaks and sycamores and maples with hanging things, and ladies stepping out of green fields with great bunches of red flowers, and a river with clear water sparkling over stones, and the earth smelling newly ploughed, and the lawn-cutters making hay smells, and the Golf Club, and caddies caddying and putters puttering and toads toadying and Dukes and Princes and Counts counting, and the Grand Duke of Russia and sa femme in a carriage, and the blue sea sparkling, and the Jardin Publique with music, and little boys drawn in carts, and donkeys with side-saddles, and English women holding up their petticoats to the skin, and fish shining in the fish-markets, and small boats everywhere, and Britannia ruling the waves. Hurry up and come before it is all gone by. To Mrs. William G. Weld / Cannes, March 24, 1897 315 : link

all ex Susan Hale, Letters of. Edited by Caroline P. Atkinson; introduction by Edward E. Hale. (Boston, 1919) LC copy (among others) at hathitrust link

note, and observation

144 this would be Susan Hale, her Self-instructive lessons in painting with oil and water-colors : on silk, satin, velvet and other fabrics : including lustra painting and the use of other mediums (Boston: S. W. Tilton Co., 1885) : link (Getty copy) same, via archive.org : link Introduction : Art and Taste...

a search for “puttering” + “author:hale” was prompted by a Library of America announcement — “Wickedly Smart”: Honoring Nancy Hale at 115 — of the imminent republication of two Hale titles — The Prodigal Women (1942) and Where the Light Falls (a collection of short fiction). Hale, winner of ten O. Henry Awards and a frequent contributor to The New Yorker — I’d never heard of her; but it may have been something about the name...

Nancy Hale (1908-1988) wikipedia : link daughter of Philip Leslie Hale (1865-1931) and Lilian Westcott Hale (1880-1963), both painters — he once engaged with Ethel Reed (1874-1912 *) — and both honored with their repective wikipedia pages : link and link and he (Philip Leslie) the son of Edward Everett Hale (1822-1909), author, historian and Unitarian Minister wikipedia : link

and Susan?

Susan Hale (1833-1910) was author, traveler, artist, and Edward Everett’s sister, keeper of his summer house in Matunuck, Rhode Island. wikipedia : link

I don’t know what to make or do with any of this, but will look further into Nancy Hale, and think about this accomplished-cum-privileged white Boston Brahmin-ean family, and Edward Everett’s erased-by-the-family relationship with Harriet Elizabeth Freeman (1847-1930), a remarkable botanist/geologist/conservationist in her own right wikipedia : link

an overall sense of the Hale family can be gotten from the finding aid to the Hale Family Papers (1797-1988), held at Smith College : SSC-MS-00071 : link

#1919 #Susan Hale #prodigalities

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one ✘ two ✘ three

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

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venenatd · 3 years

Text

just friends; eren jaegar x reader

summary: you and eren are best pals and have both recently be dumped. so, a plan to get over your exes is needed! what’s better than going out on the town trying to find quick fucks >:) also eren is a smug bastard but kinda has a heart of gold??

content: smut / nsfw 18+. minors dni. (choking, unprotected sex, creampie drinking, drunk sex, possessiveness ig? dirty talk, both of them want to be dominant tbh. slight size kink, oral both m and f receiving. female bodied reader)

i am new to this pls let me know if i should add anything!!

word count: 5.8k words of unedited content

a/n: uh so i never thought i’d be back on my tumblr bullshit at 23 but hey after years without the app i’m back. i needed to get out the h-word and this is what happened. enjoy and i’m sorry if it’s terrible lmao

“You look different”

Frowning at the man waiting ever so patiently for you on the sofa, you look a little defeated. “Is that meant to be a compliment, Eren?”. He sighed, raising his eyebrows at you. To be fair, maybe you did. Wearing a figure hugging black dress, that definitely just hid your ass cheeks, hair styled and sprayed in place, dark lipstick and makeup on your face. Usually Eren would have seen you in sweats, always running a little late for class, snack in hand.

“Different isn’t bad,” he offered, checking the watch that lay on his wrist, “are we ever going to get to the bar? Your plan will fall through if you’re not careful.”

Ah, the plan. Both you and Eren were newly single. In your final year at university, having managed to keep each relationship going until almost the end. Ironic. Weren’t most meant to fail in the first year? But alas, your partners had decided it was the end within a couple of weeks each other, and as you and Eren had been close since you met on orientation day, you each took to the other for comfort. You had done the crying first, going to him the minute your call with the ex had ended. Leaving wet splotches on his shirt, he had calmed you, only for you to do the same to him later. Now the crying was done, it was time to move on, and what better advice to follow than getting under someone to get over another?

“I just need to look hot enough for a guy to fuck me.”

“What a romantic you are.”

“Shut up Er-”

Eren shifted from the couch, interrupting your usual sass, “and what about me, y/n? Do I look beautiful?”. He threw in a wink with his comment, his aura of cockiness always radiating. You rolled your eyes, before studying his figure. His dark hair half pulled back into a bun, the rest draping his neck and onto a deep emerald green silk shirt, with the top few buttons loose, tucked into dark pants. A ring on each hand, fingers with chipping black nail polish, and to top it off, a thin chain on his neck. You hated to admit it and add to his smug demeanour but... the man did look good.

“Gorgeous as always Eren,” you said sarcastically, even if it was truthful, “I’m sure there will be a queue of women who are wanting to jump on you.”

“Not if they aren’t all taken already,” he taps at his watch. Whilst the two of you had already been drinking as he waited for you to get ready, it was definitely on the later side.

“Order the uber, and we can go.”

Walking over to him and adding shoes to your outfit, you present yourself before him, a cute little smile playing on your lips. He’s staring down at his phone, quickly going through the motions for the ride. Finally, he looks up to catch your eyes. His jade pupils flick down slightly, and he hopes you miss that they land at the cleavage you’re sporting in your current get up. He flicks your nose, earning a scowl from you and a smile from him.

“You look perfect”

The club is far fuller than you both expected, dance floor and tables taken up and crowded round. Luckily, you had managed to secure you and Eren a pair of seats at the bar, and you were currently on your third..? Fourth drink of the evening. Green eyes watch your lips carefully, as you finish the vodka and lemonade.

“So, anyone take your fancy?” he prompts, looking around at the mess of people.

Humming, you scan the area. There’s some people you recognise from class, but plenty more you don’t know. Fucking friends seems like a bad move, even in your tipsy state, so you look to the strangers faces. They don’t look like him. Ugh.

There’s a few options though, and as you point them out to Eren they come with brief descriptors: dark hair and stubble, wide set blonde. He tuts at the options, sarcastically letting out a “sure sure, I see the appeal”.

“And how about you, anyone you like the look of?” you ask with a sigh.

Christ, Eren thinks to himself. It’s been long enough that he hasn’t had to look for someone else. Sure there were attractive people in the world, but with her around, he hadn’t needed to give anyone else a second look. His palm moves to the back of his neck, stretching out behind him with a huff. “Let’s look on the dance floor?” he offers, clearly not as eager as you were tonight. Moving his hand back down, he holds it out for you, pulling towards the throng of people.

He looks effervescently cool like this. Shirt open, hair starting to fall from his bun. Eren is looking around at the people surrounding the two of you. The two of you had been working in circles, allowing each other an eyeful as the club goers move around the space. As a group of guys push their way from the dance floor to the bar, you get shoved towards Eren. Heels were never quite your forte, and you stumble against him, hands on either side of his chest. Grinning down at you with that smug little smile that annoyed you so much, Eren brought large hands to your waist, pushing you away a little. But his hands stay there as he continues to sway to the music, making no effort to break the contact. And so you bring your arms up to his neck, allowing his movements to carry you on time to the song. For the first time in the past couple of weeks, you feel light. Your chest isn’t constricted by some foreign weight. It’s just you and your best friend, buzzed and free.

Colours change above you, as you look up to Eren, him down to you. A playful grin takes his lips as he pulls you a little closer, you so easily accepting the narrowing distance. Your black silk meets his deep green, chest pushing into his. You carefully analyse his features, seeing if he attempts to check you out like earlier.

Was it the alcohol making your cheeks so warm? Lit up by a purple hue, you watch his eyes return to exploring the crowd, his hand still holding on to you. His smirk falters, his eyebrows creasing together. You’re not moving in circles anymore, Eren pausing in his movements as he thinks about what to do next. He shouldn’t lie to you, but seeing your ex at the bar would really harsh the night. Under his fingers, he can feel your body tense, suddenly unsure at how close the contact between you was.

But Eren doesn’t want you to know, he doesn’t want you to be distracted by your ex tonight. He doesn’t want to see your hurt little face anymore. The way your eyes would be red and puffy the next day. The way he would feel your shoulders heaving under his arms. You don’t deserve that. Hell, you didn’t deserve the huge amount of shit your ex had put you through over the years he’d known you. Eren would sit back and listen to you rant, support you where he could. But fuck that guy. And he wasn’t sure what sparked in his chest, but Eren’s jade orbs are trained straight back on you. His eyebrows calm, tension releasing from them. As you can turn to scope out whatever had changed his body language so suddenly, he catches your jaw.

Beginning to slowly move again, his eyes have narrowed, taking in the way the dress hugs you, the shine on your skin from the hot dance floor. Eren couldn’t quite figure out what was intoxicating him right now. Definitely a lot of alcohol, but also a sudden… possessiveness. He didn’t want you in pain anymore. Eren wanted you in pleasure. His breath is suddenly on your neck, making your hair raise.

“I’ve only seen one person I’m interested in tonight.”

“Oh?” you squeak, before clearing your throat a little. The new deep notes in his voice catch you off guard. It almost sounds like he’s… No. He’s your best friend. The little looks you’d been giving each other all night were just two people looking out for one another, two people seeing each other happy for the first time in a while. Your voice is calmer as you ask light-heartedly, “and who would that be?”

His lips are so close to your ear.

“You.”

“Eren-” your hands move from behind his neck, resting on his shoulders. You need to see your best friend's face, you need to know if he’s joking right now. If he’s mocking you. When you draw back, you see his face. Smug, as always. Fuck you’ve always wanted to knock that cockiness down a peg. Cheshire smile showing his teeth and his eyes looking down at you. Half lidded eyes, pupils blown. He’s not joking. Fuck.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your breath is caught in your throat. All too aware suddenly of each of his finger pads pressing into your skin, the contact feeling like fire with the added alcohol. But, you find yourself nodding, the yes just escaping your lips before he’s pressed into them.

Large hands travel to your hip, and up your back, pressing you into him. You can feel his body, tense in exhilaration against you, hands back around his neck. One travels up to the nape of his back, tangling into his hair and pulling him deeper into you. The music is all consuming, you can feel the bass in your body, you can feel Eren against you, you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Eren’s hand on your back travels up, echoing your placement on him, to hold the back of your neck. He doesn’t want you to go, you feel too good. The heat between your bodies could suffocate him. His thumb puts pressure under your jaw, he isn’t even sure you can feel it. But he can, measuring your pulse racing underneath the pad. He’s smiling into this kiss, this all consuming kiss.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you’re all too eager to allow him into your mouth. Tasting the whisky from your home, tasting the coke from the club. His teeth take your lip nipping slightly, before sucking the plump of it into his mouth. You both come up for air, eyes meeting in acknowledgment of the situation.

“Wanna get out of here?”

The drive home had only served to heap tension between you. As clearly that it was that you wanted each other, you would have to wait a while longer. Your thighs pressed together, slowly inhaling and exhaling. Going through your mind was whether this was a good idea, staring out at the city passing by you. Eren was your friend. You were dating another man two weeks ago. The same man that had previously asked you if he needed to be worried about Eren. You’d laughed it off, because it was Eren. You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt him grip your leg, a little too harshly at first, before settling, leaving a gentle pattern of circles and lines on your inner thigh. It was Eren.

Just one hallway. You had to make it one hallway to get into your apartment. One hallway left to come to your senses. And just like he read your mind, Eren is once again touching you, just his hand on yours pulling you backwards. You twist just in time, his hands instantly cupping your cheeks as he kisses you, deeply and intensely. Pushing you back into the wall, you pray a neighbour doesn’t walk out now. His knee is pressing gently between your legs, and you allow it. Your fingers sink into Eren’s arms, lightly covered by the fabric yet you can still feel the muscle underneath, relaxing and tensing as he pulls you closer.

His lips are making their way to your jaw, lifting your chin upwards, tentatively licking the bone before moving downwards still, sucking and nipping and licking your neck. A whimper breaks through. You really need to get inside. Gripping his hair, you sharply pull backwards.

“Not going to play nice, huh?”

When did he speak like this? The playful and shit-eating grin your friend Eren always wore was replaced by something darker, his words laced with intent.

“Don’t challenge me.”

You were off, finally at your door, making quick work with the lock, moving in first before he followed. The door shut as you pushed Eren against it, usual doe eyes being taken over with a deep lust. Your hands are instantly at his belt, as his hands find your face once again. This time he’s grabbing your hair, making you look up at him as he glares down at you. You’re constantly challenging one another in conversation, and it’s translating to the bedroom far too easily.

Lips are on one another again, as you leave the belt and start towards his shirt. You bite down on his bottom lip, earning a hiss from him, and you feel his hand being brought around your throat. He doesn’t add too much pressure, checking if this turn is indeed okay with you. When you push against the weight, he takes the gleam in your eye as a yes, and uses the force to push you against the next wall, finally moving off the front door.

It’s a constant battle to get to the bedroom, both of you taking control for short bursts. Eren pulling the thin straps of your dress down, you untucking his shirt. His muscular torso is on full display, and you had never viewed it in this light before.

Finally he pushes you onto the bed, situating himself between your legs. Your kisses are sloppy and infused with alcohol. Hands are desperate with one another, both of you needing to be closer. Are you scared if the contact ends your thoughts will return to sanity?

Eren’s hot and heavy over you, his hands seem everywhere at once. Smoothing up your thigh, digging in slightly to the flesh when you grind against one another. His hands rest at your hips for a moment, and he’s looking down at you, still fucking smiling. All at once, he’s flipped you over his prominent hard on pressing into your ass. He’s whispering in your ear, leaving wet kisses along your neck, to your shoulder blades. Fingers take the zip at the back of your dress, slowly and carefully pulling it down, leaving licks and pecks as he goes. It’s torturous.

You attempt to speed things up by rutting your ass against his crotch, and you think you hear a quiet moan, before his hand is brought down to the fabric, smacking your cheek. You gasp, turning your head to look at him. Eren is too occupied in taking in all of your body, his green eyes are darkened with authority and lust. His nimble fingers play with the short hem of your dress, thumb dipping beneath, before he pushes the silk up.

You both let out soft fuck’s, as his hands grab at the plump of your ass. It’s like he’s testing the softness, the way your flesh responds to his touch so easily. He slaps at you again, earning a sharp moan from you. Eren’s leaning down, his mouth once again trailing across the apex of your behind, leaving trails of saliva as he goes. Before you can even register the new sensations you can feel a soft pressure against your clothed cunt, just enough to let you know the presence of his hand, but not enough for you to get off on. You’re mewling, once again trying to get closer to him. This time he allows it, eagerly pressing his ring and middle finger to your clit, allowing you to grind upon them.

Seeing you underneath him like this… it’s new and strange and so fucking hot. He’s watching you desperately try and fill the need building in your core, and he can only feel his cock twitch in his pants as he sees you coming undone. If you wanted more, he could definitely give it to you. Bringing his large hands away, to the flimsy fabric that was covering you, he pulls it down, exposing you to him. His heart and dick fucking jump. His hands return to your ass, watching the jiggle as you move and whimper. Spreading you, he brings his face down, breath tingling on your most sensitive areas.

Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue, gentle at first, licks between your folds. He’s tasting you, he’s moaning into your pussy, as you write beneath him. Eren’s hands are squeezing your ass cheeks, holding you still as you try to grind against his face.

“Patience, y/n”, he says, with a slap on your behind again.

“Fuck you,” you hiss.

“You will be in a minute, baby girl, don’t worry.”

You go to make a retort but he’s instantly back, licking up your slit and a deep moan escapes you. Jesus you can feel the smile on his lips as he’s back on your pussy. Eren is so proud of the sounds he can draw from you. He wonders if your ex could make you come undone so easily.

You taste sweet and saccharine on him, and he doesn’t hold back the groan as he further works his way into you. Hardened tongue moving it’s way from your entrance down to your clit. He swipes at it, before moving away again. Kissing your thighs, kissing the skin between your holes. Every now and then he’ll move back to your clit, allowing you a moment of pleasure before he’s teasing again. “Fuck, please”. Your whines are being smothered by the sheets, and Eren wants nothing more than to hear them, loud and clear.

Eren’s ringed fingers make their way to your hair, his face lifting from between your legs. He pulls you back round, and holy shit you can see how wet you are on his face. There’s a sheen to his lips and chin, and instinctively you reach up to his neck, pulling him back on top of you. Your tongue meets his, tasting your tartness on his mouth. A hand makes it way back down in between your thighs, playing and parting your folds. Your hand in turn reaches up his neck, pulling sharply at his hair once again. “Eren. More- please” you get out in between staggered breaths.

“Aw, since you asked so nicely” his eyes watch your expression closely as his thumb rests on your clit, his finger swiftly moving inside you. Your eyebrows raise and knot, eyes wide and lips parted. But he keeps it still as your legs shaked around his arm. “Eren, move” you demand this time.

“Oh, that’s not so nice. I liked it when you were polite.” He starts to retract his finger, thumb gently swabbing your clit so you’ll know what you miss.

“Please, please, please, Eren, please” you speak before he even gets the first knuckle out. All the teasing was creating a tightness in your lower stomach.

“Much better.”

You whine as he continues to pull his finger from you, until he pushes it back in, curling his solitary finger up. Your fingernails are pressing deep into the muscle of his bicep, feeling how it moves as he finger fucks you. He’s hitting that perfect spot inside you again and again, and his thumb is swiping eagerly on your clit.

Eren can feel you fluttering around his finger, desperate for more, desperate to release on him. He adds another finger, your wetness allowing him entrance easily. He wants to fuck you so bad, his cock so hard it felt like it was about to burst.

He pushes your hands off him, leaving crescent moon indents deep in his skin, he works his way back down. He brings the black silk with him this time, fully being able to take in your body as you’re left naked before him. Holy shit you’re beautiful. He doesn’t want to stare too long and make you shy. But he still kisses his way down, before he’s back at your pussy.

This time he allows you more movement, letting your fingers work their way back into his hair, letting you roll your hips against his tongue and stubble.

With his spare hand he pulls out his cock, slowly pulling at it, before he realises he can’t do that for too long without cumming before the main event. Instead he reaches up, rolling your perked nipples in between his fingers. There are so many sensations on your body, and Eren can feel your cunt beginning to tighten around his fingers. You hold your breath before letting out little moans, building towards reaching your height.

“You want to cum on my fingers?

Your back is arching, whispering “yes, yes, yes, please” as your walls are tightening around him. He quickens the pace, making sure to hit that spot inside you over and over. Thighs around his face, he can feel your slick pooling in his mouth, and coating his chin once again.

Your gummy walls are so tight around his thick fingers, he needs you to finish, watch you fully unravel below him. Sucking and licking at your clit, he’s pushing you towards the edge.

“Eren-” his name is strangled coming out of you, and then your moaning, undulating your cunt against his mouth, riding out your orgasm.

His jade eyes look up at you, watching as you pull your head up to look at him, before another wave of pleasure hits you and you have to arch your neck and look back up. He waits for you to come down, letting you fuck his face and fingers. Grinding against his stubble and tongue as you let out pitiful and beautiful moans. You’re so fucking wet, the sounds coming from between the two of you should be forbidden, as you release onto him.

Finally he withdraws, using his forearm to wipe his face. He lies next to you, allowing you a moment as he draws little circles on your stomach. Eren has never quite looked at you in this light. Sure, you were pretty, and the two of you were obviously close. But now you’d walked a line that couldn’t be undone. You weren’t over your ex, and as okay as Eren was with what had happened between you, he didn’t want you to run. He’s overcome with thoughts, looking down to your chest and the heavy breaths you were taking. All he could pray was that you weren’t pretending he was someone else.

But as Eren is getting caught up in his own mind, you’re twisting, hand reaching to his crotch, cock having been recaptured by his boxers. Palming him, you feel how big he really is for the first time. Fingers trace the edge of his pants and underwear, and he lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down. Shit. His dick slapped back to his stomach, precum leaking from the top of his pink head. He was bigger than you’d imagined, because of course you’d imagined it a couple of times.

Your hand looks so small around his cock, but you slowly tease him, his deep green orbs following your movements. Bringing your head down to him, you kitten lick the precum from the top of his dick. He hisses gently, and you look up at him with these big doe eyes, so fucking eager to please.

You push your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue as you begin working along his shaft. He moans just at the sight of you, your eyes peeking up through dark lashes. His hand goes through your hair, eagerly pushing you deeper around him.

He lets out a hoarse, “is this okay?” before you put your own hand on his pushing it for the both of you. You don’t even want to come up for air, you just want him close to you, inside you.

You were learning far more about each other than you had expected, as Eren takes back over. He pushes himself further into you, muttering a good girl that has you whining. The vibrations around his cock make his hips buck, and now you’re gagging as his length hits the back of your throat. He holds you there instead of letting you off, and your nails are sharp against his thighs.

His head lolls back as he starts to move his hips under you, moving you in turn with your hair. He picks up the pace quickly, allowing saliva to drool from you and straight to his cock.

Your eyes prick, big fat tears forming at the corners. But you’re enjoying this way too much, the moans and gasps he gives make you moan, pressing your thighs together for some kind of friction.

He takes your jaw in his grasp, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Your tongue sits out your mouth, him smacking the head of his dick on it. He notices your tears then, the mascara that’s running a little. He swipes at the corner of your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss into your forehead.

Bringing you up to him, your dripping folds sliding across his length. His lips are on your cheeks, across your jaw, licking up your neck before reclaiming your plush lips once again. You continue grinding against one another, tongues slipping in and out of each other's mouths. Eventually Eren brings his hands to your hips, lifting you up as you hold his shaft up.

Your foreheads are pressed together as he slowly pushes inside you. The stretch is burning and all-consuming, eyes pricking up again as you feel him hit your furthest wall. Eren breathes out heavily, “So fucking tight”

You roll your hips, allowing some friction from him on your clit. It helps your muscles relax a little, and balancing your hands on his shoulders you push yourself up and down, using his length for your own pleasure. Eren’s eyes don’t leave your form, watching your breasts bounce and how your eyes flutter close as he fills you entirely.

“You really did want to be fucked, huh? Look at you” he teases you, watching as you go to talk back before he thrusts his hips up. It leaves the words caught in your throat.

His pace maintains, holding you in place as he fucks up into you, feeling your cunt clench around him. There are long moments where you hold your breath, holding his cock tight within you. Then you’ll release and moan, before holding it in again. Well, Eren is all too happy to help you with that.

One hand grabbing the flesh of your hip, the other wrapping around your throat, he pushes into you at a punishing rate. Your eyes go wide at the sudden restriction of your throat, feeling the cold metal of his ring against your pulse.

“Who knew this about you? That you were such a slut?”

As much as he knows you want to deny it, you want to smack the smugness from his voice, he can feel your pussy tighten around him. He sees your eyes roll back a little.

“You’re getting tighter.”

The hand on your hip moves down, attempting to hold you in place whilst letting his thumb press over your clit. The sounds of him slapping against your wetness is obscene, and he’s only distracted from it as you whimper out pathetic yes’s and please’s.

“You wanna cum?” he’s grunting, trying to keep the pace going until you can reach your peak.

You nod against his wide hand, still tight around your neck. “Oh you can do better than that. I already know how bad you want it, slut.”

“Please Eren, please make me cum. I want to cum, please, please, please” you can barely make out the words, your head going light and body tightening.

“Cum for me.”

You release, and as he can feel the fluttering of your walls around him, he lets go of your throat. The sudden oxygen as you cum leaves you overwhelmed. Burying yourself in his shoulder, he fucks you through it. Cock slapping up into your cunt over and over, somehow being sucked deeper in as you coat his length with more of your own slick. He can feel your nails breaking the flesh of his back as you’re holding on for dear life, moaning his name and even a fucking thank you into his ear.

As you begin to slow, legs shake as you stay straddled over him. He flips you, Eren now firmly on top, slowly moving in and out of you. The stimulation is intense, your cunt sparking at any sensation.

Caged between his forearms, his hair is a mess thanks to you. You push tendrils back past his ears as he leans down to kiss you once again. This kiss is different. It feels… less desperate. It feels deep and meaningful, caring even.

Your eyes meet in acknowledgment, both of you too worried to speak about the shift in tone.

He reaches down instead, pulling your leg up and splitting you on his cock. A tongue swipes at your nipple, biting and playing with each as he gradually picks up pace again. You’re still so fucking wet it’s easy for him to thrust into you at a dizzying pace. You can feel all of him against your gummy walls. Each time he passes that special spot inside you, you moan and gasp, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

His thrusts were becoming more primal, holding your thighs close around his hips. Letting your sweaty bodies collide again and again, his balls slapping against you. The grunts and moans coming from his lips were so infuriatingly erotic. Eren just wanted one more from you, and then he’d let himself finish. If this was to be a drunken mistake, so be it, but he would at least make it memorable.

Those jade eyes were on you once again, the power and dominance radiating from the immeasurable. He can see you barely being able to hold on, completely fucked out beneath him. You’re moaning and whining, hands moving over the swell of your breasts and playing with your nipples as if it’s going to keep you grounded.

He sits up, eyes flicking down to where you were conjoined. It took so much restraint not to cum inside you right then and there. Your glistening sex was so tight around him, the wet slapping noises echo again and again. You’re pulling and sucking him in, cream pooling around his length.

“Give me one more, y/n. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You try to look up at him through heavy lids. Your friend Eren saying this is so taboo. The words he’s said tonight so far from normal for the both of you. You flutter around him, somehow your pussy still wants to be fucked, still wants to push you off the edge one more time. You can feel the coil inside your stomach tightening.

Eyes rolling back, you can barely keep it together anymore. He’s pounding into you at a startling rate, fingers flicking over your clit again and again and again.

“P - please, it’s s-so good.”

Your breaths between words were quick, “you’re so big-”

“Yeah you like that? You like being so full of my cock? Such a pretty face you make when you’re all fucked out.”

Holy shit.

Eren could tell how much words affected you, your back arching and legs pulling him somehow closer into you.

“Come on, baby. I wanna hear those moans.” he’s grunting, getting so fucking close to losing himself in your cunt. He knows what he wants to hear most though, “say my name. Tell me who’s treating you how you should be”

With that, you’re losing yourself around him again. Writing on the bed, gripping sheets in tightly balled fists. White light taking over your sight as you clench around Eren. This orgasm was the most intense, taking your body by surprise in its overstimulated state. You weren’t even making a noise, just holding on to the high for as long as possible.

And then you shattered, whining and moaning, whispering his name over and over again.

As you moved underneath him, Eren kept his punishing pace up until he watched you expel the last of your energy. Name forming on your lips over and over again he falters, releasing inside you. You can feel the stickiness inside you, the sensation of being filled up. Eren watches for a moment as he sees the white pearls forming around your stretched out pussy.

His chest is back on yours as he kisses your neck, shoulders, whatever skin he can. Thrusting back into you a couple of times, he finally pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you, but you’re too spent to do anything about it.

Eren lies next to you, both of your bodies attempting to regulate from that.

“You okay?”

He’s checking in, making sure he didn’t go too far with someone he genuinely cares for.

You nod, turning to meet his stare. Giving him a drowsy smile, you’re not sure what comes next. But for now, you’re happy. Curling into his side, he puts an arm round you and lets you rest for a while. As he notices your breathing become deeper, he nestles into you, muttering something about clean up.

Moving away from you, you can make out some noises of a tap, drawers opening and closing. In your sleepy state you feel him gently wiping at you, two glasses of water being put on the bedside table. Finally he makes his way back to you, and Eren notes how cute you look. Hot and completely fucked out, yes. But also gentle and at peace, allowing the heaviness of sleep taking over.

He rests behind you, wanting to be back in your warmth. He pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. The fragrance of you takes over his nostrils, and he’s all too eager to move closer to your hair, pressing one last kiss at the nape of your neck. Whatever tomorrow brings, he hopes it’s not the last time he gets to be this close to you.

#eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #aot smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yaegar x reader smut #attack on titan smut #pls be nice lmao

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theoreticslut · 3 years

Text

Mutually Curious // g.w.

george weasley x reader

requested: for @anxiousblanketqueen’s bday wc

word count: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ themes, mutual masturbation, slight dom/sub roles

A/N: hey loves! I’ve been wanting to post this one for like a week and I just never got around to it because finals are seriously kicking my ass. I am so stressed and so tired and I just want it all to be over with. But i also really wanted to get this out before Jill’s bday on wednesday (you should totally check out her blog and participate in her bday sleepover 💗) ! Ideally, I wanted to get all the fics out for her bday wc before her bday, but alas that is not happening. Oh well, she’ll just get some late presents 😂💗 Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!! Xx

You truly enjoyed days like this - where you had nowhere to go or nothing to do. You could simply lay around all day and do whatever you pleased without feeling guilty that you were avoiding something else.

What made days like this even better is when they were spent with your best friend, George. You two had been inseparable since second year, ever since you got seated next to each other in Charms class.

Throughout the decade you’ve known each other, your friendship has evolved in some rather beautiful ways. It started with pulling pranks and just having fun in each other’s company. Then you guys started sharing secrets and deep late-night thoughts. Eventually, nothing was off-limits for the two of you to talk about.

You both were just so comfortable with the other that it wasn’t odd to share intimate details that you’d hesitate to tell others. You knew each other inside and out, ranging from the basics of favourite colours and foods, to the more advanced knowledge of deepest fears and wishes, all the way to the ultimate comfort level of knowing each other’s preferences and stories from the bedroom. You just felt completely at ease talking to George no matter what the topic was, and he reciprocated that ease.

You two never run out of things to talk about, though, as you’re always finding out more about yourselves, whether that’s a new kink you want to explore or a new fact you learned.

Today was no different. Without even thinking about it, you’re voicing a rather interesting segway question.

“You know what I’ve kind of always wanted to try?”

“What’s that, darling?” George asks, looking up at you as he’s laid down by your feet.

“Masturbating with someone.”

You can just barely hear him let out a groan before he’s humming out an answer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I just wonder what it’d be like, you know, being intimate and vulnerable like that without necessarily touching the other. Not that you couldn’t touch the other, though.”

You watch as he seems to think about your statement for a couple seconds, nodding lightly.

“Yeah, it’d definitely be interesting. I mean, it’s fun to tease your partner that way - you know, not letting them touch themselves while you get yourself off - but I’ve never really thought about both people masturbating.”

“I don’t know what I’d think about it.” You admit.

“I feel like it could be embarrassing, but at the same time it really does sound like fun.”

Frowning in thought, you lean back to look at the ceiling. You can only imagine what it’d be like to masturbate with someone present. All of that attention on you, basically putting you in a spotlight. You’re not so sure about that.

“Why do you think it’d be embarrassing?” George frowns as he props himself up to look at you. He’s known you long enough now to know that you don’t get embarrassed very easily. Why would you find mutual masturbation embarrassing? It’s not like you would be the only one doing it.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m thinking I might feel too exposed?” You sigh.

“Being naked in front of a guy, touching myself, having him watch? Like with sex at least his hands are on me so his attention is a bit divided. I’m not under his full gaze, you know?”

He hums, thinking about your words. He could understand how it could be uncomfortable to have a person’s undivided attention, but at the same time he thinks it sounds pretty great - having your attention solely on him as he strokes himself. And just the idea of getting to watch you pleasure yourself has him excited, his cock twitching happily in his trousers.

“We could always try it?” He offers, not hesitating to share his thought.

“What?” You ask, a bit incredulously, sitting up to look at him, meeting his gaze almost immediately.

“I mean, if you want to. It’s not like we haven’t talked about doing things with each other before, and we’d just be getting ourselves off. We wouldn’t have to touch each other if you didn’t want to.” He explains as he rubs at the back of his neck, clearing his throat as his cock grows at the idea of watching you squirm as you come undone in front of him.

You can’t help the little needy whine that escapes your lips, cheeks growing warm at the idea. You’ve only thought of George in bed with you at least a thousand times by now. There’s no way of stopping the thoughts of his cock and what it’d look and feel like from running through your head.

“And we’re already comfortable with each other, yeah? That could help you not feel so embarrassed.” he offers, hoping you agree. He’s only dreamt of you a thousand times by now, picturing what your body looks like and what your moans and whines sound like. It’s not uncommon for him to pop a boner at the thought of you.

You nod, understanding his thoughts. Honestly, there’s no one else you could imagine trying this with. While you’re embarrassed at the idea of your best friend seeing you naked and so vulnerable, the idea excites you to no end. You already felt safe with him, so why try this with anyone else?

“What do you say, y/n? You want to try it?”

You nod, a small whimper falling from your lips as you do. You never thought that you’d ever actually do anything with George, but Merlin have you wanted to. That’s one of the only downfalls of being so close with george - you can’t help but get turned on and want to see how true his stories are when he shares them with you.

“Y-yeah. Do you?”

“Godric, yes.” He moans, nearly panting already as he never turns his attention from you. If you thought you got turned on by his stories, you should try paying attention to him more when you tell yours. He’s constantly hiding an erection and trying to not pounce on you and make you his.

“O-okay.” You smile, already blushing as you gently chewing on your bottom lip as you figure out what to do first.

You figure that you should probably both undress first, so you cautiously grab the hem of your shirt, his eyes trained on you as he sits up.

Smiling and gently biting on your bottom lip, you slowly lift up the material to reveal your simple black bra to him, not able to stop the soft giggles from your lips as he groans.

“We’ve barely started and you’re already teasing me?”

“Not teasing you yet, Georgie. I’m just undressing.” You smirk, removing your shirt from your body.

He moans, eyes roaming over your exposed skin. Sure he’s seen your skin before while you wear shorter clothes in the summer, but watching you undress in this context for him is something he just can’t get over. He knows he’s not the first person to see your body, but that doesn’t matter when he’s the one who gets to see it right now.

“You’re so beautiful, darling. You know that, don’t you?”

You smile, a blush on your cheeks as you take in his words. You’ve been told by a number of people that you’re beautiful, but hearing it from George’s lips is otherworldly. It feels so much more sincere and intimate coming from him.

George smiles, watching as you melt at his words. He’s loving how absolutely adorable you currently look with a blush on your cheeks half undressed for him.

“Keep undressing, baby. I want to see you.” He urges, leaning back a little to spread his legs.

“Aren’t you going to?”

“Eventually, I promise. I want you to show me your beautiful body first. Can you do that for me, baby?” He asks, trying his best to contain a groan. Seeing you so vulnerable and pouty is more attractive than he would have thought.

You nod, smiling as you watch his eyelids droop in pleasure, a low moan passing through his lips.

You slowly untie the drawstrings on your sweatpants, smirking as his eyes follow every movement of your hands.

Carefully, you trail your hands over your body on top of your bottoms, enjoying the needy whimper that leaves George’s mouth. You grab at your inner thighs, purposefully avoiding your sex, loving the way that George is squirming in his spot.

Smirking, you slip your hands under the waistband of your pants, finally pulling them off your legs.

“Fuck, darling.” George groans, head lolling backwards.

He can’t help the grunt that leaves his lips at the soft giggles rising from your chest. He’s trying his best to behave, but all he wants is to take control of you.

“Georgie, you’re not watching.” You giggle, teasingly pulling the straps of your bra down off your shoulders.

“You’re being a tease, darling.”

“I would never, Georgie.” You smirk, loving the way his eyes darken at the sight of your bra straps hanging around your arms.

“No one likes a liar, y/n. Behave, angel, or maybe I’ll just leave you to get yourself off in front of me. Won’t let you see me.”

You whine, thighs clenching together at his threat as a pout forms on your puffy lips. George had mentioned he was pretty dominate, but you never expected it to be so hot, nor could you ever truly picture it.

“No. George, please don’t. I’m being a good girl. I promise.”

Whining at his dark chuckle, you watch as he situates himself a bit on the bed.

“Show me then. Show me how good you’re being.”

You nod, unclipping your bra and tossing it across the room. You grope at your breasts, a moan falling from your lips at the pure pleasure of it.

You hate to admit it, but from the moment george offered to try this, you had gotten extraordinarily aroused. You needed relief and you were finally getting some from your touch against your breasts.

“Such pretty tits, baby.” He praises, eyes glued to your chest and the way you wriggle under your own ministrations.

“Why don’t you take one of your hands, angel, and touch yourself through your panties? I bet your wet already, yeah?”

You whine, trailing your right hand down your body to the waistband of your panties, teasing it gently. You slide your pointer finger just under the band, enough to lift it from your skin and send shivers throughout your body, before you let it softly snap against your body.

“You like teasing yourself, darling?” George asks, restraining from touching you himself.

He just wants to see how wet you are. The idea of a wet spot growing on your panties while you rub yourself has him nearly wild.

You smirk, chewing on your bottom lip as you start to touch yourself, your fingers against your heat feeling amazing.

“Oh, George. Feels so good.” You moan, eyes shutting and head falling back against the pillows.

“I bet it does, darling. I bet you want to finger yourself right now, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, George. I do.”

“Well wait a minute now, okay? You want to watch me undress, yeah?”

You nod lazily, trying your hardest to prop your head back up through your initial wave of pleasure.

He smiles, loving your blissed out face already as he lifts off his shirt. He smirks as he hears you hum in admiration.

Once off, he tosses it onto the floor and turns his attention back to you. He can’t help but chuckle as he watches your eyes trail over his torso. He knows he’s fit, having played quidditch for years, but having you admire his body has his ego rapidly inflating.

He carefully undoes the button on his jeans, slowly undoing the zipper and watching as you watch his every move.

He groans as he notices you slowly start rubbing your fingers over your pussy through your panties.

“So pretty for me, darling. Touching yourself while I undress. You’re so pretty, but you’re needy, yeah? Can’t even wait ‘til I’m out of my trousers.”

He smirks at the whine that leaves your lips, watching as your fingers slow down and you squeeze your legs together.

“M sorry, Georgie.”

“Don’t apologize, darling. I like how needy you are.” He smiles, watching you with pure adoration.

You blush at his words, unaware that he’s watching you intently as you watch his hands.

You whine as he slowly pulls off his pants, his boxers coming right along with them. You nearly drool as you watch his cock spring free from their constraints, and the groan that leaves George’s lips alongside it is pure heaven.

“Can you take off your panties, baby girl? Please?”

You nod, carefully hooking your fingers under the material on each of your hips, before swiftly sliding them down your legs, leaving you bare in front of your best friend.

“Godric you’re so pretty. Knew you would be, but bloody hell, darling.”

You blush, a whine slipping past your lips as he chuckles, grabbing the base of his cock.

“Fuck, baby. Show me how you make yourself feel good.”

You start at your chest again, softly groping each of your breasts and rolling your nipples between your fingers. You sigh gently at the feeling, registering George’s heavy panting across from you.

You carefully open your eyes to look at him, finding it difficult due to the pleasure coursing through your body.

You watch as he slowly strokes his cock, rubbing his thumb over the slit for a second or so whenever he reaches the top. Moaning softly at the sight, you slowly start trailing your hand down your body towards your sex.

Bucking against your hand as you reach your clit, you listen as George hisses, drawing your attention to him.

You watch as he grips his cock a bit tighter, his eyes closing gently in pleasure, falling backwards.

“You look so handsome, Georgie. Love when you throw your head back.” You giggle, loving the groan that leaves him and the small smile that forms on his face.

“You’ll be the death of me, y/n. The absolute death of me.” He smiles, watching as you blush and close your eyes gently while you play with your clit. This feels so much better than you could have imagined, your pussy already so wet and fluttering for george.

“Oh, George!” You gasp as you slip your middle finger past your folds, not thinking much about your actions anymore. whatever felt good is what you were doing.

“Ohhh, feels so good.” You mumble, starting to finger yourself as George watches intently, throat going dry. He wants nothing more than to take over for you, to finger you himself and to maybe get a taste. It’s taking everything in him to hold back, wanting to watch you pleasure yourself.

He watches as your fingers speed up, drawing you closer and closer to your release, moans and whimpers falling freely from your lips.

Before either of you truly realize it, you’re gasping as you come undone in front of him. You can feel your wetness seeping out of your cunt as the haze of pleasure slowly clears from your mind.

“That was so hot, baby.” George states, mouth softly closing as he watches you come to, his cock throbbing as he’s close to release himself just from watching you.

“Oh, George. Y-you haven’t cum.” You pout, looking over his face as he scoffs.

“I don’t care, darling. Seeing you come undone was more than enough.”

“But-“

“C-can I touch you? I want to finger you, baby. Please?” He asks, cutting you off from whatever argument you were going to give.

“You want to finger me?” You ask, a little surprised at his bluntness.

George nods enthusiastically, practically drooling at the idea. He can just imagine how warm and soft you must feel.

“C-can I touch you?”

“Merlin, please. Yes, y/n. Please touch me.” He begs, finding it hard to wait for your answer.

“Okay then. Go ahead, Georgie.” You blush, biting on your bottom lip as he practically pounces on you, fingers quickly finding your folds and running through them.

You jolt at the sudden friction, your previous orgasm having left you more sensitive than you realized.

“Hold on, George.” You gasp, grabbing a hold of his wrist to stop his ministrations.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“Didn’t do anything wrong, baby boy, I’m just sensitive. Need you to give me a second.” You explain, trying to catch your breath.

He nods, breath catching in his throat at the pet name. He’s had women be more dominant with him, but none have ever called him that. He never realized just how nice it could sound, but he’s sure it only sounds so nice because you spoke it. Regardless, he wants to hear you say it again.

“Okay, Georgie. Start gentle, please.”

“Like this?” He asks, his fingers barely touching you as he circles your entrance, occasionally dancing up to play with your clit.

“Just like that. Feels so good, baby. You can add a little more pressure if you want.”

You gasp, nodding as he increases the pressure in which he touches you.

“So good, Georgie.” You sigh, slowly reaching out for his cock between the two of you.

“C-can you call me that again?” He asks a bit bashfully, shivering as you faintly circle his tip with your finger.

“Call you what?”

“B-aby boy.” He gasps, your hand grasping around him tighter.

“Oh? You like that name, do you? Like being called baby boy?” You giggle, stroking his cock slowly.

“Yes.” He groans, bucking into your hand.

“Alright, Georgie, baby. You’re doing so good, but you can speed up now if you’d like to baby boy.”

He nods, finally taking control of your pleasure now that he knows you’re okay. He sighs as he can smell, and practically taste you, wanting more than anything to do so.

You quicken your movements on his cock as you feel yourself clench around his fingers. You want, more than anything, to make sure he gets to cum this time around.

“So close, Georgie. I want you to cum with me, baby boy. You think you can do that?”

He nods, bucking once again into your hand as you swipe your thumb over his slit, spreading his pearly precum around.

You can feel him twitch as you smirk, moaning as he leans up to start kissing at your neck.

“George.” You whine, eyes closing at how amazing his lips feel on you.

“Yes, darling?” He smirks.

“Who’s the tease here, now?” You pant, squeezing at his cock as you stroke him, loving as he shivers in pleasure.

“I th-ink it’s still you, baby.” He smirks, nipping at your neck.

“If you’re going to kiss me, can it at least be my lips?” You pout, wanting to kiss him so bad. You’ve always wondered what his lips would feel like against yours.

He chuckles, leaning up a bit further to capture your lips with his, both of you moaning at the sensation.

You can feel him twitch against you as you clench around his fingers, both of you close, but you had a feeling George was closer.

Sighing into the kiss, you squeeze your hand around the base of his cock, gently tracing the outline of his balls as he jolts.

“Fuck!” He groans as he cums, spilling his warm seed onto your thigh as you clench around him again, so close to cumming a second time.

“I’m so close, Georgie. Don’t stop, baby, please.” You beg, still slowly stroking him to milk his release.

With his eyes shut tight, he curls the two fingers inside you, perfectly hitting where you needed him to to send you over the edge.

“Yes, George!” You gasp, coming undone on his fingers.

He groans, eye shooting open although they’re heavy with his own pleasure. There’s no way he’s going to miss watching you cum around his fingers.

“So...pretty. So pretty, angel.” He mumbles, completely blissed out from his own release and then watching yours.

He sighs as he gently removes his fingers from your sex, groaning as he stuffs them into his mouth.

You both lay there for a few minutes, him laying practically on top of you as you both regain your energy and catch your breaths.

He’s the first to look up at you, admiring the post-coital state you’re in - happily playing with his hair and thinking with a soft smile fixed on your lips.

“So? What did you think?” He murmurs, watching you for your reaction.

You smile as you look down at his face, taking in how tired he looks.

“It was amazing, George. Something I’d definitely be willing to do again.”

“Yeah? I’m glad. I’m thinking next time we go all the way? What do you think?”

“All the way?” You ask him, quirking a brow in amusement.

“After you taste me, we get to see how my dick feels inside you.”

“Oh, so you just want to fuck now, yeah?” You laugh, pausing your hand in his hair as he chuckles, burying his face into your neck in slight embarrassment.

“Well, I’d kind of like to take you out on a date and ask you out if that’d be okay?” he smiles, muffled by your neck as he presses hot kisses to the skin.

“Oh yeah?” You tease, smiling just as he nips at your neck, sending a shiver throughout your body.

“Definitely. Best friends is wonderful, but I think we both know we want more, yeah?” He smiles, watching as you chuckle, a small blush taking over your cheeks.

“Just took us messing around to actually admit it.” He adds.

“Admit what now, Georgie?”

“That I want to be with you, as your boyfriend and maybe more someday. That I love you and always have.” He smiles cheekily, leaning up to kiss you as you giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away.

“I love you.” You smile, absentmindedly picking up where you left off in playing with his hair.

You both lay in a comfortable silence for a minute or so, basking in each others love and body heat. You never expected your day to turn out like this, but you were glad it did.

“Thank you for trying this with me, but I agree, next time we go all the way.”

George chuckles at your words, a smile on his face as he presses a sweet kiss to your lips, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you in close to him for a short nap.

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