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libidomechanica · 9 months

Text

Leave of Joy salt tears

A sonnet sequence

I plants with this Kings. Did I love you he is. Now thee unripe, yet to his Memory of thyself for all, sick, or other first for fish in the time, to Arm to his bate-breeder that the Peoples Saint him befall as their Godheads and earth and a great the vain. Tis hear my face, whose braille to threw they had pierc’d to a fon, or in Friends descent of a leaf, the hole call as I am bereft and your framing madrigals. For pitied Youth is side in time, ’ quoth her sinewy net. Sour imagine own captivity some parts, and Off’ring your joy. Leave of Joy salt tears. My Brothers than I.

To touch, and last long makes. Till, now she only passing branches, stop, each first spoken a gang war wrapp’d a prized. Even as the had not my all we have left not, she world hatefull Issue books, with left so ruefully mind, thus qualifi’d the bawd to obey a singest be burnish’d, thered, so to contain-river throw. The she lives green mysterity. Where, and fearful creature wed the marvelour, is mistrust, beat, for eyes, and themselves, invisible beauty, liquid, glorifies his heap’d from the same blind your hair was upright he’ll given the Indian Fire. Haste, beware would prove?

III

Whose body but in thy speak amorous train her eyes could not lips; a than what Prudent thine or fled make Tree on the stood, to the Peoples keep good, the look, this white and hacked up to you, my onely, or rich caparison’d round the stormy darts for fruit unsavour: frail of this flesh and sight, and I cannot be sav’d, he kiss my hammer, out audience frown, that I might to Arm Bears! Vast and Restraint, like a loneliness was he sweet; which was a rehears had a gravy as more sweet embracing, our Lawfull Breast; the fevers set it feed while sin, and with nerves thy Name. For Young-mens Dream!

Art, Ah for my all the cried that task to me, at once we still meetness of Grief flowery May, if by them again into the hindmost, and only wonted, smell the Whole. Because to love into distress-lifting lascivious Times, his grow a boy their eyes as the doth espyed, cause of these same took precedent the drove forgotten, my harte. My flew; nor to rested with a Servants in my breaketh done. And love, which like a list thyself into the cunnings exclaims on my budding Muses marketh: even now. Her serpent highway, and passing not so wan, clouds in the most in dew?

Of brows deny’d, like shall moved. As ever dye, love cross thee this is. Bright, through a Native but the dust with my teares. What even, and all the suddain a gordian Fire: hinder shall not bring those dawning. I gave of glow reflections, and to servile Train. And in the Father lily pight: now bankrupt of dewy gem, fright ask me by they want to San Francid dreams of the blush and chain, he senses pleasantly stand! To makes that friend a tune thy Ewes, together He, and retards: already Skill, starv’d and that will frames, graze on a throught the may all the Wrong’d the along, the brilliance thy soul.

A is frugal folke: his Children feel what tis must never light, and only the roe than which, two Leg’d they red,—where was himself in Opinion you heart and her cheers teaching and born a white road brere, and she gloom, whose part poured pearly Promise thy hearts; nor fear off the place where else witness numberless could have short-joints for love is upon a leaf indescribably decree; then, drops, and grow: we also have left the Laws. As if any meed a thorny braunch of pearly in the breaketh frorne out of a good: it will with the Nation can see! And from pains were his blown vp without him all.

VII

Come hint, the swoon. Auspicious, they were are torn hairs being snake, for sober pavement all into her seem to rob him to spear, we part, white-blossom friends: they led twining shore gazing them all never soul of dewy eve and honour, what Religion in fatal mercy even Apollo where always cheek the man next of a modest, how their colour, I feels to be unripe yeeld whet his demurre our maladies by you wear the bliss! And a Vare others, newly cut thou unask’d her child. Ropes or rot upon their Father. A woman brain, with us, you wilt backe, and then I see her annoieth. And convert thou encounty! And to my own law; and friends in these looks course and be Judgment with none what frosty sins enclose hands streams of mine could because expos’d a gently over was away both of light to thy fearful might we’d like aughter, and like thee for than flinty, young praise.

VIII

Must become the pictures, and died unto thyself when Adonis’ hearth in her frequence, yours disobedient drops, the river. She she banks of bright playing there, from hence in your face has flowred coud heard, their joy: doe you and pay and subtle flaxen were lying upon thy mother got, and he lov’d their sun, whom all; all fly to unperplex blisse. Not die, herbs, garlic, cheek appeare, stop with they finally at whose vices are than flowers, clouds conflict of Israel, freckled wretch, to see a tales and responder his woe; for such one, curls aboad: but free from Earth a kid rubs strong a State.

Would flow, it shadow you forgotten, my Sould Curb my Safety shining looks unworth to this look’d morrow on the should never, to turn’d. Piercing hare, stretch, well-breaking delight! But throat’s tir’d, for many sweet, if once my arms, the People sparks, and Statue of old Adonis wear, sweetness, if I shalt though Fancy’s casks are complained brand as the sweet grew grey; as the river-whispers in thieves. That to grows; when, musits by empers a parts nothings are made Obnoxious world. With vertigo for her striving joy ill, thus, worne I rub together; then we parts, and the right overfly the bad, and watch.

‘To sell careful green, on Yarrow banks wonder (pray their Scribes in. Alas! By Sea, by Law teachine own did excelling is immortal love, and pay and of your Titles a few, sad, look’d my mouths to all as Absalom’s Mildness of the grass a deep-sweet. Spoil of all in an ever proxy shippe vnwilling new, who short, tell me, not taste me the blythe builds herbs for Love’s mystering rose uttered here than when to all summon would blow, made, by Writing stars, eclips’ rich it eats in would specious, Juster’d Muses marrow bed. With him King! Up in my side: and, by Heav’n by sun. Down, why am I …? Your queen, and with the language broken light, and in the world. Even Apollo when he world of these forsakes the truth’s woe. Long taught the hill? Would begg’d love, by conquer than your ring, and will strengthless and blythe, blythe, by his locks of this is to come to the horse, tis Glories, in Sommers flower singing.

For it all night now she undone. Since herself should as she shine own from it with her buckles away tottie years: she carries in the North, in his Greatness pairs between two morning’s eyes her agents of Royal Peers and so tis a few, so did see what ever three were alone long anyway it be undoned of Thunder therefore to be of the Queen by these flowers grew wide woud breast, with her tearest made forlorn, and known, and wounds were the day, no; my hands him to rose, he stoops no dropp’d but ears sing, up the sky. Where comparing at the Throne, into there is golden bring to my breaked.

XII

And find, if half a Muses chain: Lovershoot his easy to fair delight, and Quaking violet? That dar’d their streams upon his smell that one, shattered that know not stay, but Companions, since was Patriots name outside mine happy as well to loser, gentle Love like Jocasta in a tomb shall dance on the scaffolds his an and Record, what Pretence herse to man, will never: thence to love; to makes all human Wit could wed in extremity; where Tim the latest thou do, deceit, for scorn! Looks so faine: semed,- than brede; made than this pryde to rain, that you were you I love you for all should find what were stone alone, I would humour, could in Glentury dear nor senses, and looked Courage; where in sadness the Nobles of war of fight haste we our eyes will fall, just commissing her ties; sincere, am like Jocasta in and list of the People and child so unkinds arms a Chief of Wine.

XIII

Such but a winter content in the breast. Tires o’erwhelming, sae sweet part from Cenchreas’ short this bate-bred Soul and they thine owne chief he heavy, ticks fastens;—O! The hearts; nothing down, since forest most friends, together; to Heavenly eloquence: for shall my ears gone, too soon, the hill-side; else, Implacable moon, and left thee, the lake- blossomes, his Love in his an echoes raise effecting. Our eastes crewe, and the wind woman’s for one thing that your to a statuary winning Age, some unseen, shall be merciless wings can so strain before, dear nor to melts with the love, aside lay spills.

XIV

Never lamps together was thy day, that a hope is true need a thou wilt thou return’d; for a brightful playing love by a simmer in the head been great though thy wear, the darts and embrace; she languid arm, that eve, and peake soon, takes the sun, and often urg’d their mad Labouring dew. And which I have I felt though seen of respect when King Oberon’s mild, but golden arrow to browes, for too soothe my essence in the green. Or ivory in her thoughts, that I would Plots, she food he sea. And himself: where is fear were rise of the day since, and reache: my heard no more lent: that shows up at you coy?

And noblest; yet of thy soul abroad claps her more. And embracing white and with all sway. To pass thy leisure he next for a lives more turbidly ravell d. And still, or love tie; next of thy resister with such, ask’d her objects the Laws; till hope doth cry till turned attempt God’s heaping moon in from his piteous in thy spheres. To chamber whose way in, and Crude. That hast though the sandals sweetly their scratch’d this lover, myself, in God of you needs spring, ear’s care, or let no other we still I suddenly I sought, the on him as is a sprouting their Kings be advis’d; the deeply by one.

XVI

How sweet envelope; and were Croud Expose? The cobbles and since like a beaker in this face it cares greene could begets. But Phemie’s eyes, that clear. How Fatall tis heart their colour’d peoples Fool. Such a threw the sport. Burnt from the Bad fold his enemy caps are mad, a bunch learned at thou art the shine. Where than a Naiad of the Croud, no grass, and drinking i know, even the pine-grown Latmian stand and as swept the facts. Into amazes; nay, disturb’d, unsoughts, that serues the same thought of new Love the hand, ’ said I, but all the mought and from thend his Consequent represerv’d, he shadow forlorn.

XVII

Of bees, say, as the Season is you, sir, to be still his Arbour make very that is train her favour hair only harte. In ribbon of mossy green, as torn, her two woman, but that and fear; and still I were but swallow cradle tail to choosing eyes, some and crystal mercy graunt mischiefs unite with stories his grow! Splashing to be gone, please, but hospitable sweet embracement yet, and in tight or flies of love and helpe to elope; and maybe, blythe and Slaves to misimploys. Keeping he did not how come in his vows, overs’ voice is night of icy graduate, dear name; for blood!

XVIII

And still. The head, saw him, like dark old Caleb freezing. With spot the mountain moment’s had lost. I’ll constraineth indignity of his Master or new my love, whose thou go with their white as he? That I alone than thought that clear, dance doth madly in love in you this oil the winter long, at the solid Pow’r forgive in this hard the Tiller’s caskets and somewhere innocent, thou canst tho his lost his bootless pairs, while since we shall her fair that from forthwith jealousies of Arbitrary legs with one that pale chance his golden the faring commended: laiko, Command, blush thee only thee?

XIX

That b-b-b-b-breaks, and died waterfall, O! To there’s to fairest the Seat and be the wish, who best of a man, stella is the Sanhedrins mayst these weight skirt the solemn and bridle over yet some came with fear his Numerous Eyes; to reply’d the hot take the river! Her face; and round be my feeds of your Suppliants of sure stood, or whereof doubles how safely call he found, had rain, but surely hurt, they keeps me and comely pedigree, encrease went; her own face when on my head and laid by subject will as light, they head she bane of the chosen pedigree, seeing is still.

The flowery May, or him to be gone! Look, how his snout diagonal apple, in the Place, if I die forced his concludes her, fierce pure great god Pan, thou asham’d to speech did them with sung, all again. And yet in the Jews. When rising her hairs; the river. If I condemn all inflam’d of Dispatch, two women whom all disdain’d, what was made to sing and think of bees, why aught to make all it mattering mad, and she languished be. Amber, her Earth and wrapped with you’re wexe so fit was foes cold to herself, all the day a daring; recall Jebusites: then, were berries he out, the city.

XXI

He raucous born beams fall as by, that bare he spake therefore trips, as he way the morn, devourite’s fight; for the woud Egypt and sighs draw him, as one ever shadow fellow-feelings of herself rejected? Neck was done, deaf to bring thy help our Good all these the Shadow in philosophic gown made his an angel just as thou rove, musing to each who make David’s black chaos coming, to be, as ne’re beauteous live: Alas! Ancient rose of Gold, and we were shall effecting from the doth bottom-grass stopp’d them amid mats of his Son, fair off, and well: their Godhead skin rainbows her wings.

XXII

Can Rites to faces in and I feel it, unless were suite undone, so Corinth—O the lost sweet body gryde. Whose two may be disturb a Staircase or cheeks, cries, as he warps and disclos’d their own.—My Sandy O; tho’ the wardrobe; the hours, and play, let Vertues wilt swim, gladder’s heat I would bridge for when is bending comments! The gold, with bright- wind be banks of all you art star doth express’d. And when e’r Saul wast bignes bent his bonnet his foes; being perfection grows; where with learne to manage were drive answered here she heart, of mad been sparing this worth, before this them not be they should survays.

XXIII

I was well-proportion, I shall well; and not the chief, and as she, sweet lov’d his trick of bird in his woe of means he wild: but naked on while Hermes, and the muzzle beat, outside, but of all the tip of one were shepheard to steal, and through beaded to shall be through they durst these Ill, for his all shoud People door, she runs the night-but with a building I’m tired island dewd will she had make modest, then we leaden pedigree, so beauty’s back. Law: if I opening moon, fair I channel had two more beating Jealousies and quickly. When this woe; which I your Reign? Said, an’ a’ the lent.

XXIV

‘The faults assured might there young look for pay. I am amaze inter breedeth anger. Surround, starv’d th’ East to Secure you wert that each maine thee? She does you there passage, his vain the lass that once then shaw, and lover the Woods that her said; and still prest, and mine, ’ so I sware; natures in trusty prisoner in the roots and hatefull of the his heav’n hastity, love with strange they lasting woman infant sand injury. Lest singing. The Almight: if my bed. More numerous chief he types; Yes; and, but their Pretence and they shine eyes? But if thou take me more sick them, and of Forreign Yoke.

XXV

To entic’d his cheek feel some hint, like the worth, who say so, love thee home to makes his Servilely my woman infant back. He murmuring could relieving heart and seizeth she, and yet in this hears dreamt I saw her stay: to hangs upon the moonlight from his Master, plaiting found a park the old, on the Sagan of Leonardo or Michelangelic finds, with a lawfull Breast. Give me through of thing land death: her linnens, an’ a’ they with a Vice, Opprest might and dare not suck for my eyes are kill concludes in the which on mountain-top, to her coming, and of the lure, I say, Lo!

XXVI

Carnal chemic yet every blade that was a bubbling of Fate, high degree unknown the white, while all be come to kiss shade, by who pul’d between us to ever words and black lips on the eyes’ red earth an Eurydice; for Sommer of this plained by leaving like all were forbeare cherefore that Stand, brib’d with Swift loath, which we Rights of time?—The desperate danger. She stems. Good does Man well-painted Life Ambitious prime? Even admiring too-too kind oft and Peals of monsters one. And the Sandy O, my disturb’d, undespoken line I felt though of heart’s worth. With inconstance of you.

XXVII

Stories, and the doth love’s mine. Now all me onely to possess the waves, indentine; never through life he is noblest be coold; so offendings and prov’d; he mean. As only, he sate by birth, and night my flocke beyond this ivory in memory did other got him in your kitchen it that love you live truth, her favour: frail-strung his eyes flowers them, she isle; and crown’s delight with thy sweet in they wanted cheerings, and so unkind. The picture, who washed by moonlight his bonny swine all the courageously definity, love been him Kings be Solymæan Rout; well as I met alone.

XXVIII

With his dim vast abhorrible go see than though his primrose cries, the purple given the brain; be bound; to play still was Champion mankindle with her enter down to folly can’t sleeping tricks up her objects would I been awhile too full breast to me! Taught there; I know each shadow head, turn’d; for Sums of War her answer add some confound, which wasted, there but lo! This snout diadem, sceptre, air mad mischeivously poor, invisible. Work is lead horse to seeks like the land—in the can bind his Estate, that it is past, thought to be sin, and to haue blood all as briar his Cellars?

XXIX

He star-gazers, flush’d occasion raigne, Long, three will stay: she same. In the same. Bedded fronts have frost, my wrough, to love that she says was a while door, and ben; Blythe, blythe with me! As with a lea; but noble Stem; her or Sommers flattered dar’d, shut from the hands find the would tye. Barren Womb or Gods, and shall? Advantage slip; beauty of it. His like a vapours by, they burning, and Paradise wage in a new Plot berries flaming his prey, the lea, himself, a small, the hounds destroy: like visioned to wasted Compasses a golden from his prove then I knew his so she will I awake unlovely bliss the wild: but drunk, or at the imprisoner in doors for me? And live in my right skirt the boar, unlike Jocasta in an empting clear her neck her youthful widdowes thy right us, for Image dull Hebrew Priests about into a forevere are fun threw theme; their of grace.

XXX

For, as a tune is bare immortal love thee, thy weary Muses from isolations were can disdain, what cannot sees bent, yet we have herbs, garlic, cheese, or to Lament. His eyes more disposing! For sever, wherein his tuned form’d his pricks, E for pay. Yearning dandling, ’ she settled equal divine with this laid on the flowers quickly is near as he cold world! They be tame and should rather eyes of they kiss ever shoot, this rosy as walks have makes amid mats of blood instruck he harmony should he bethinken who did wounds, deare nough to day: our Fate, till remember’d hole call’d behind.

XXXI

For nowe vpright of trophies, and, but when I know not bonie Sanhedrins dead. Spoil are excuse the Throne, as solemn as well for love, she hall; all staine! Of thing behind the world so unkind, had notepads, which faithfull of sin on you art that would crave; god’s hears bungle dragon-flowering juice, the dark laund run warm, flush’d a pretender finger, wake then he see yours began to end wide of war What Millions trees, when his Throne, as, to which for fish, thy long age in true or true wherein shades. To danger by the could strain this, but onely graduate, still the treason guide, and kneels; with perfecting.

XXXII

His easy now she could say, and pretence againe. Within Parts his death aspired! Which the those naked garbage, woe, but him soft cheeks, crows dead.—Blythe, blythe in so clip Elysium, or ill, the ways. Such we were left to kiss even leave quaystone, if though the lees. One fixed without late in Imperiour, and home subtilty, or some recure all well; and a million half-shut with his myne for blush’d in the sun was by, that are ground these God-like the could crown! Love, a gown me when other his Earth: art to get it sent out naked garbage, wonder palaces, while you strive with the Devil strong, then first.

XXXIII

Thou would have been; but sing eye and he a Throne on the strive to silver breath, and, from they resistant woe, but hair! The musket shalt from pains dripping a sight vpon my arms and and my Mind. The could wed in him; to serves thy anxious I’d harry height: the use, he midst of the Whole. And clear himself refusing in college and rak’d, and the heat more another digg’d for I impartial languishment this? While hearts for by mystery. Do the Peoples wrong, and tis buried his lost shall dance to know. Sudden, Maud, but you should, heavy god of my hearts the high hope doth scorn. Tis not, my Sandy O.

XXXIV

Or we could encroche, the river, the bulging but now from the task hath she fault was make my coy displeas’d, no prevent of well as I am amaz’d, sharp by first Impression on Art. Blocking her rash suspectacles Mens flicker than if he tune is my self an Angels foes. The who is their Duty; but the Government. Each day sun. Where not for high, and gave sink, delight, and Mankind compile; even as thousand know took, and that she reeds by the wood, that is ruin you. Eyes did painful to her Adonis wear; then Rebellious bed cawing child a small back, and danger sprung from breast!

XXXV

Yet oh you know I through of sin unbolts: No found the says, you came them, were will not a despoke, and merry was dreams and that was seen. Hope, I will not to be Out-done. For non-identity, while each dost abhor, but that night to be King: melodious supreme winkle, under: grew more in his perished itself has before his velvet coarse berry and vain Pretender, away, her stone arms rears of health and within, and Slave of vintage to you in base he speak too much ease, infers thou learne to mine; I shall Ever-wanting the lang night the Day, indently round; so noiseless thee?

XXXVI

For a labyrinth, with Descending night. Expose, god can, so on to the gravity at worth because the Plot, when all the spoak: few words and play. And be gone; and weak, a smoothly lyres, victimized high of us wit. So if, after shine; but when with come to his idea, while you. Why domain, Thus Prince, the spheres. Once morning and Slaves. The Grossness is marry. Of loue and once my loves his mine: which soul hath such alone, sicke, and enter doth prove Nymph is thy rigour. Use of Nation and from the window; that on high delight—only Let coat; where but wept till because expose?

XXXVII

’Er then winkled love what that still, chequers in the wont to Reb ell. And blood in embalming in contain my face excelling I wrote therefore than your fair eyes of the emperates Record, he s author of fearful of sin unders and swell—thought of a’. The be love, of Royal Native me songs, she papery dead thence, so vain, when it and quickly. Full Swear, said, several Joy detain of my hands are lips of entrust into be old because the true loving hopes or the by the must casual solitary gazeth still unexcavated in dark which our love, below thee.

XXXVIII

Countenanced lady bristly galleon tossed, and of her gracefu’ air; or whether, and speche, tho’ she wished that from the durt of the World from seed. Short, structor, the wide, alack umbrellas, called civility, and mend their mouths to bake an every wind woe are one sweete Nighting forty deathless doth she love rested me so frowns and rever Rebell, till mutual for loving ever cause of Power: e’r the languish Friendships holy way, you make Cupid girls plaint proceeding of the mosse, who speaking to experience drawing call Restor’d; while each he cannot be—Adieu! Again!

XXXIX

Which fail’d the now, it is with madly sigh and Turbulent your careless the Bent; and tall summer hair, she faery beside might he leave-sick to do like a path no prevailed— if we thieves; so surfeits made my kimmer throat was too. Had I be, whom, whereof doubtfull parts began, that were fix’d, also shepheard to falls of bloody bent, for all myself when he did of despaire our walked and far of moons, if love by then shapeless rhyme, wished, and hoarse beneath into a Lawfull still himself her groans, therefore true and hate no marueile Traves, that over mountains he stain my sins enclin’d violet?

Who not faith sometime had verse from thy for ill we for a bright, and Crude. We tells dire Artificent: how, a Plot, but to passive Title not borne to thee, unlike surfeits, and wide Ambitious Actions from the lang day; lorn and lips set this storm, and stoopegallant it and my limbs. Bright to groan, like glooms and rising up from slimy nest, but bid good this remains, the despite to circuit of Godlike David’s Part disdaine hard heart thou for on the bathes unwritten your honour, and bene myne, to life and all hearth. As one finding of a poor Plot, in praise dumb play, lull’d his horn: affect.

XLI

You sudden, grew grey touch treasure, that haue I listned tooke, the Scepter, awake againe. And no more their Father’s art thou hadst the dead of all it: freed at a star is ourself a Fool. My Sandy O, my head, without the dead. The muzzle bene and tongues, and Turbulent; and if my heart made food the faery brow on laye. And I would excellence chose Mother eyes like a fair sunlight, and breast, full Title, and in the prefers and every sorteth me to faults heart on their dark, with arrow may be tasswage. In consecrates and Slaves; and what able intent, the chains of all to rose. Always Mourn’d; thrall, Tis not for Reign, nor I show how Bess, now he came and got, and both your live it; tis all, that strides the responses in my tongue evoke you were unknown, they naked less. And miseries opposed to these rownd. And other, that cannot be cool’d in door weede, as mounteous was one foes.

XLII

For a breeder, dead. Such cold and grim, as one came riding street with his death, whose me how she colt with wrinkle into the more the times fall, to beate his Hunter: and will not see his life ill-refine, he cheeks all her can drench the blind yourse press. The most dearer rash suspect our Title, and hand, and my feet warming my smart, teach bess, this times stuffe to you owe it is reign trees, why in disdains dead, saw me you white hair, yet thy happy could be: for love in one full fainting with Jealosies afloats the kissing summer, on me were wed; Despair, she hard- favoury ends: come let Oblivion.

XLIII

For than you. Are made new-found a dreams, where else shepheard it? Till either has buried it might plained in pursue: at once made they have: for my faults i’d not trout name of one fasten’d of him, with surprise was always. Like all thy restrange Foundations may be cause I do time of peace. Winter or nothings an and grief be disgrac’d, like forbids; with white to forth with his own so fair a honey secret know tall, or lacking mossy way I am help but twain; for Aribtrary Sway? Both disdains to Ruine happy had was the nights are blown her as she thou guest, from thou, that there his gone?

XLIV

In such a piec’d him keep my feeble wrong Bands, and I strong, that friends, if I die, and thy wracke, and forty destroy. We part of thyself be dead clappiness must ready have been from Earth she, thou hadst thou wilt thou saw people style blush’d forbeare cherefore, not such eye was shelly fasten’d of skill, thou guesswork: adulter with nectar—starlight, your love my love nothing earthquakes; and I be, which by that white: that day, like a sod. Is such a love for kingly, but his blow, it was Israel’s pernity and again, his feed her glu’d, found heavenly as a second to be gone, we’re her, bade him.

XLV

Laying George’s mysteries, to glass and tempting of the studied into a doubled attemptied Youth you canst not for me by all comments of his sank or for frail- strung flood, here, which the lightfull Devil days a life sheets a hush’d out some park; nature’s dreamer, queers? The sight of our Father was my beast, and seem’d twin spirit could have you in basely flash’d for I to be grewe an oval, squandring Bess, this ill-used too late. Say, many a moving morn of Earn, as where and in this form of his life. River and noble Soul? When the could the most thou a tomb so strangerous Prince, and trees.

XLVI

Art dear, his love when Flattered thence, as with many cloud of love did not speake the breath’d up in the planted still to smell, was no light shone he verboten? Als my soft with a rule, for the strange is sturre, runs began an oath, too, being print, work. And on end; and with his Foes with he thousand durst time he’s black-fac’d to Rule the dull and thus and died was serpent of herself employ and teach vnto his boots with not die till rise: to make memory of thing up, and the Gold, in love, comes than what hour, I feels, beats the more shepheards resemble and ev’ry glen. Was it? Of all thing of the red well last.

XLVII

When mend; all my nymph’s bed, his vary—thought to lay. When noon, or as thee lass and evening, neare this wo strive when look for Monarchy to the Croud spread on the darts. Lest Object and Quaking barge, that creep; there I dare na shows up at always free vent, and by the eyebrows o’erstrawberry was could says will end. While brib’d, it is all this galleon the dance found a Clog to me! If I could dedicately anon thee of purest sighs, in would have know not exprest Chloris’ dear, she breaking, my Katie, my limb to laughing lay, not Bullocks her bliss the Pow’r contending burning fire, let me horseracing snakes your Father famish the river. Then wood, tied unto their shine, entry. I frame constrains thou, Design, nor non-payment found into circuit of his Maker instinctures he Wrong’d; not at all in my pilgrimage dull and kneeling ireful hour I to brings; for the same.

XLVIII

Is now learn of all she was a waves the Aid would seeming race to attend: if the Seat an Eurydice; in the twisted Court remove, nor ever walk … if simply asks that unallied to whom, SPIRIT fair that from our Good, Grace: not respectacles in tune to cling color the you white; the loud in the Oake. And I will doth those phosphor glowing light cast over happy had not so much of war of the moonlight legs with joyes are driven back to the would blood their privacy because in Heaven, and Giaours each shame which now not name; two strange she colt thou met he publick Officers the Wise.

XLIX

Love’s gentlemency my own with the summer, and Consecrates and I a mayden Queen-Moon is your hairy silken lilies a splendentures Holy Bands there youth’d up, stream and Jebusites the take heed; with lust’s abuse. And fright ruin you I love them fade like a churls, while face, who hath, for incredulous. Misguide, and advantage school played withdrawn free as thy false Achitophel, groves the can sin again tonight’s attorney once is not pure by fast, which vulgar Springing Fevers, and lying lay, nothing early love, for all, that folkes proceeding. I will not be—Adieu!

And thou unask’d to his so well their mishaps, and bene so the night-but their queen riding, in a count you passenger stop; and rise: to sell contract of statues Fool. But sicker wind a draught have him by, alack hair world. We finger guesswork: adulter that is resolv’d to sings be took complained former chanc’d to ventually, but Desert time dividence to ventually and as light—only bite me more was at finds are like they and her morning, and always will I were his rang, alluric light of ringing, know not go, tho’ shelter’d at the illumin’d with he thou smooth Death wringing.

In their cheek, till we for centric happier me, already with his Kingship, warm, trembled and the pavement sorrow at his Saintlike sluices, salad, and now let my boast, where made retir’d, are on his fair Prince! His bowers. The way it be cool hour own Posteries flash the lake-blossom fell of God coud ne’r sat and I must couldn’t picked, touch, and loud spread the sea, take true to Prophets rage: the sober pavement was his to a statuary wyth fresh from wood, the garded, on Earth: art though my love, or I impatient of those with reek and did no other, fair-lined for these marrying to Slay by Loue, and has he is load high he came to Reherself to hanging milk-bloom’d, and loud sigh for you, with melancholy made my love, to the could have deep and thou may be should not hear? Masons Heavenly water entering heard abandoned brooks, wilful words roots of People which, by a peace.

LII

For that she live and wit, tho gave, no True Successor, whose poor, no; my heart and Redress alone. Fire double David draw me on a girl, for the golden Calf, all they were delay’d: so this vigorous atoms of you will direfully? Nor fear and dar’d to lie, that day, whenas I met with cry Too late. To grown face; I must help she knowing lay, not one, fade apt spring, and some his face so much alone. Sweet deares of love is note the Pillars of my senses? They shining&motions knew to wonder’d without a bouquet were and now shall be Naked lesson to his bate-bred before.

LIII

Look, this more-for them not say; thy spheres. Whether, by a spells of Paradise, alas, holding of the rivers, for Reign? And full Youth, whose fear than we do cry. Or as assure lips’ rich the matches, and dealing of thy deer; feed her stilling charming Power, a highway, many-living curled from those tempering have but soul and the your caves, some composed won Renown, each it divine, I wand’ring Wealth, by the secure his still endure starry Pole: from his Heirs for injur’d the Wrong’d; and Fortune for youth’d her you because rolls, receiving rainbow-side; how half Belial hangs ill-resounds are forgive!

LIV

And did too much affrontes all summer’s art, destroys all other beaker full persuade he will doth flows numbs each fire, that changen this wreath. He came neare so bold as if he world let me who possess’d his habit I picks the comes right he knots Embracement all life, or truth. His habit; therefore have twain; with me, let his sounds were better yet freeze of Life exulting e’en o’ love- lacking tried; for human true, drugs points few, sad, looping all thousand wagge the Mouldy rolls, she concludes in the years somebody hurried in little green spaces; not worse will wast Oake the red body’s back to makes.

Still seek and like a kiss sheath’s sake, and Death her finger, whose barked heavnly Justly galage ground a celess doves throught wither devil’s found, and drew in the Bent; but he weight wind wrapp’d lawn, thus, the stories, to which, like a gloriously poor pity, so delight for this mighty’s bow. That used rhyme, I fearful steps believing as thou alone, had power by the blue. Many meet to catch’d templations and comes rigour. His night, i’ll mast thee quiet in the world unseen of respect, me for all the be thin Part do now she fault was himself: where garden, her, with a Vitious I’d hair in this?

LVI

By successfull of birds are thee how was not trout name I shall is lances and frenzies will farewell! Pomp, did have for Justice did thend highway, whose desire; and Kafka while busie Teachers fresh the Monarch, withdrew: or, for my all his had thy light, as she, why domain, with he is rein hills I’ve dart. Ears, that, in wide, with other send a Vare out in secret beside my mind a day by dayes: or some to do aches, and weeping gay? A Legacy of his foe to all as Israelites; yet he leaps at the very light, the words of your door, or train them: but come and me, cut of the lang night.

LVII

If the dark smell shiver? Real was what cannot right, he left Defender time, press’d. If the with my unripe, yet loves, together that shoud use, of night, flash that may beaten gone thoughts be gay. Slow-stepp’d, as on themselves a spoil of the raucous bore move so perceiving to forth fire, Whispers, newly cut dispart to keep. We servile this centure: backward boys. But Israel was done, or eyes: but to all we have like. Where is not for fruict, never love with array he came. She this fair, on thyself in with furious Action journey towards wilt thou laesie lass off, and blisse? Vast and Controul; and still he take.

LVIII

’ Cots and by thy life will her voice in his fed; for death what ascent of they all be, what all whole faint cannot expression: and sometimes, whereon thy hands she unknown some the hills, and shake, bright thee in ill cost,—this weary of my hears in such a form’d his turn’d to servant. Last such like a star is love? The Devil and haply that she doth morning star from then beard, tel that worthine or wretched forsake to they measure driven so wiser far of good thine,—and was us’d, yet not Introduce thee she would exceeding vp stern friendship False, and circumstancy cannot signs oppose an or moon which purple fluorescended Absalom, ambitious I’d have like sturdy streets shout silently round a pretended before, Thee, leant to his so much ado this bare; no Pinions, down direct that thy help our sute doth standing burn that the gray, and barren Prince: their Lawful Government.

LIX

She faint in effecting, up thy haste into sport. To learning Son! To guard thought over on the chill Downs and red his Bride; the very caitiff in secret, my music, there love command, alas, is of loue than a Naiad of shame which piece o’ gowd, which with oaths, and some uncertain’d his Prince her, as this clouting lay, and passions from hence, with Vulgar, pass; erect thickest be thine own in Power, fierce purg’d by ill, soothe, by Cupids dare nearer four wild crowing you wert as War in the weight bring, to known in his eye! The Dells her men came ridge who so far unable past; the fire. The wind, my Foes.

For any sweet embraced by no pity! And if your bonie Sanhedrin she in his horn: she drawing the wood. Ocean drink up to the Hus-bandman one with pornography, wherefore? By Loues in a shade, when thou wear! Never wither arms, my Katie! You coy? But a woman breed, their could tyranny there, let thee morn, and shudder’s Mildness, steadily from a smoothe my essempio. Dost the boar, rough hear; ’ and benefit of high Towers are no more never thou liveries, his swear, hot, grew grey; set me such a familiar primrose with dear, that the flow. And picks the dew-bedabbled mean.

LXI

And Dark, and wisdom of her frond of metals, which her be, starlight art; where is but my face I sued this, fairily by no long night doth lopp and displease, and carefully, for wand’ring Beauties to Arbitrary COunsels foes such never the first; but help I would with his neck retire and chin like ocean drink too much ioy, being light in so crossed, and long dim he wood to find’st on her Earth: his crows o’ Ballad in an Oath th’ Haranguers often hyde, and we feels: that have no Courtier’s redoubles: he sight there three. That cloisten hundred my heartily pight as the youth; and I, by Law for youth for one, her rainbow- side; else, and in its way, cool, where, each we whose power towers though the hoste of Jove! Sceptre, away, and the short is with the road as your nipples her believeth: art thought he which long in his Tribes in thy duty, liquid folly had love know, they sigh!

LXII

From the eyes did to the road as if she harden, thy spect silently. Till thing in the sung, thing a better and forth again, my love, there it with her eyes are in the Season gave to misimploy and rested a spoon; o merry hoste of their scrape of Lord, her swears, like Feinds, without that, and still; the Scepter, wakes are only she but ere thighschool pray, or then I’m support me: dismiss your feet in his Birth, in a time rot and open the Rabble belly cavern, not speak too much one that banquet in that like shakes the was the sang a Gangster window, a Plot to ordain’d, making voices.

LXIII

What bird that: But if I open’d before the secret here was none; even soul hath she had vertigo for you with stay! God said: when the lie, which in love no more sigh as once minglets, to flesh and willing were delight in tempest always with thy Line wouldest to me; no fair false Achithphel still guaranteed the faults is a listening flame, what her eyes more be kill! He thing chains beauteous Kindred leave clattered their mouths: Echo repayre the Seas, and from on the rest. Good-morrow a bridle soughtful lily wild desolate because I chant to go to Corinth—O the cot be—Adieu!

LXIV

We want not, my God’s plain, he to her so airy silver long disuse, the boar, under hinder, love me on his Brave, no King? The Tiller’s sensible cry my own, each pain, but speaks, with her all Mankind! To haunt they all his moving time to tread, to Corinthia forehead, with grow. In vain to former dark laund rising his her tender yet reflect; thou feel it seems not of double Danger, we seruants to frozen burst the dances are greeting out, little for Politicians neither flower, or ear, a Soyl been. We both and begot; then down direct my added the footing is cry ring.

LXV

For the waves, and splendor out of immovable past; the dawn and sire, through vertuous atoms of that love knowing of his hands victor by,—the Serpent of flowing conies of her her silver doth brighted Venus is tears, and more the landlord’s flowers who bids the silly lameness that April morning Ages Curst Depose: the back’d at he was known wearied it! And in a kiss throws: Friends of Royalty were rain, well knew, when I changed my many good to thee: the gaudy Flowers has the true, this brilliance of part! Said not heart thought to see on till the earth she dart, where wexe so light.

LXVI

So in the you Then she does your to enlarge Soul and runs Desire springs; for my soueraigne, Long, and place adore; nor where, translation she murmur strong halt and purple- stain’d expel; for it so he world, awake! Beside as she, lips of deep darkness, to one recure of miss; it should now it’s just as hear these let their cress those falr lips to Obey: stay! Such a tongue behind him first his back. Scuds fair cheers asham’d of old mend there that you I love-lacking pestile Humour own desire done show me throughter, and Restor’d, the blossomes, but Nature’s fled; holds her Sicilian air.

LXVII

And left brings, yet I love evening life and did but her a pause, oppress. So if, after hue, some subtilty, or at length, but faint? His Loyal Youth difference I love here I my sweet seal for his Heirs for centricate, from they quite ill-refined as thy sweet, the lay me in distress of shadowe serpent, burning lascivious haunting to Slay by thy Children’s companion’d rough the Kings beautiful play? Betraying it and frosty sinners the stood, through of love, but deep design’d to dangerous Eyes, and not let his provoke a boy, ere the been corne out thought here is draw the People which shown.

LXVIII

Dance feminine: throng, that have no such and did thine eye hath wind dropping to die, whose Minds and never on shall dance, nor ever groan, and all with that troop home, found bene, curls a dying so well take memory of your Nation we sicker the dancers to Foreign Univers, flesh and unmating lost innocent, with berries the Land, and Kings extend. If I lain or some she take the dragging more the ruddy strikes where it everythings come by moon, in powers and passion of the in the iron hands I cover hands mingle draw, to their power. And the hands from David, from hence sadde.

LXIX

And blythe in the air to immure he Pack; thou lives her and rooted, fetlocks, seeing never turn to fan angels, bubble bloud is side, his Youth; outwears the blowest sheds his cups divination? See, at the woulders quest be well as been and down weares, to whom each other foul flaws the hand! Crown fresh flowers, alluring her children feed thing tone, that lengthless, and what face I have. Fools throughout his cheek another heart hath endows the good many sense. Richest in the deny’d, my thou do it flank, the deviseth her statues, that valley now thee and hath an on the live: Alas! Who sues for my slandering all as one so wilding, bleed, that her and Scorn sighs, your leaves, stead. At twenty: wonders teach first exclaim, your Father rain, her cheek, till askance he Paus’d; thou to see him in you need not seem’d twilight; then Saul. He murder’d Hands from some twin spirits Bold, and vain bubbles he senses?

LXX

And ere he began thou hit. As the wall. All surmised by shadow happier broke, and Hearts to reprehend heads too much tyrannie down; but with joyes are palpitate with sures green so faine earth again as I don’t want to bids the lark, weary of it in ribbon of his prime? Some receiving mansion of moonlight come then my lamb upon the State, that gives me with in snow wonderful change hath learn, and the balances I can, not immortal head; whose isles of you as even forsworn. Withstood, and longer by my wear, a Soyl ungrowne. Peoples keep in the Kingship, warm and mind when he trees.

LXXI

But who called sky, and sire; subjects where palsy shadow make very worthies, why shaw; but bound; so much the orator to Persian mine eyes any leisure the recommend wise hers, this lips a noble Young snare on the thong friendship! And blythe brim, and tempest and ever-flouring Witnesses imploy, and survays. And all thy steed, yet every she stay: she thong from me again, is for thou with a winter days, she steal to roam over ever, his face, so much the love finer Lust, th’ enamoured and worse. And never lips, and the flatters keeps for its with my own neighborhoods.

LXXII

To be-that Stellas, call’d often crosses sorrow. Ay me, who could not risk their clean. In lover they will pretty eagle, for frames, to all her gravity some of God, doves with her ill, was ratified to another we course thy break in bounds whose who thou coy? Made glooms and it blink of pain that it see him, why feedeth anger, wake up in the nigh, no succeed they coud have least, the man complexion, Straubs, Rebels whose Modern quill desire’s darling pity doth them to breath, what feet. Proud: but perceiving that are out. Like a Patriots in flaming felt at a real glad, Parker House hill?

LXXIII

But I gied touch but firme love did ascending, there’er trade, to thy far behind see the portraits in mine: little you with she, lips, as by, on the pale and not right-wander whistled away: but yielde, thou are comfort my faults i’d not be, in human thy rightst the belt. And see how contain-top, to be gain’d to thyself and looks unwrit, at ever stay! His teething, bids that on that summer of the Father, mine where slavery, then shutter shine till unexcavated ease, bright, evening, swift, undisturb the weighty Subject of all this, where wafted and time temporally and judg’d, dead.

LXXIV

For its hears in love you see your Filial with a forms shells upon the sky, the birds suit, I can go together I would elide you because you because and better Marino Marino Marini when our Father, since more or moonlight, everywhere and Hatred to Cleone. All strawberry brother side of thy moth-times doubt, for them leaf and her freckle white as serpent his Toyls shall with young girls, in her stealing them at length, her stilling to die. All carnation: mists do her she call’d a Thro’ the poor birds she: and, to wet again: not Kings in Stella now had forty-five, I die.

LXXV

That lend her your loves, of his stead. Did with so bear, yet of an angel mine own health I refuse him when you want with learn of Leonardo or Michelangel in a flowers, flesh and a minde. One shepeheard is storment, to this bring amid a bold; she vail’d his Western Skies, to with the blindfold him is breath, for Love their mishaps, and water face, her own neighbour care he cheek, his not Death shows up at still men sit upon his future our surqedrie, and please led, and flattered and my hand sweet, sweets and by it visionating Folly cave e’er thee, such lamps, but the fell in and tall, O!

LXXVI

These the hour: but home him state; while amorous wood, and now bed. In Power, and ben; Blythe wishing their conscious born tooth slips around; the lights, speake compasse, whiteness of a’. Suspicion doole too rough thought all truth, of love. Yearning their captivity to her eyes, perke as thy silver pretence from his way, and Y your head, and green pebbles of the Throne warp in the love for wild bird upon thy Reign sway’d, my Sinnamon smell, compares he is braunch leaves of their house repetition filleth; and place the entirely hurt him should retards: already know: his mane, then moved sweet cold Caleb freed.

LXXVII

And as she wayward the wide for death shake? Yet alone for I impair, it earth a herd swain, he can makes her cheeks, as never shook the Spirit affords; indulging bare in form’d him from Cenchreas, from heavy god Pan, swear than though I see thee, her eyes her new life, white&thing lord; her still expect wheel echoes away she who, by the and poor Wat, far office than Hybla drowsy number the whistle and Off’ring the others behind so unsullied the skies must telluric light to the poor bird’s doubtfull People clepes his moments! When a path thy name blesse strain, well-refine summers freedom.

LXXVIII

You art, be of his piteous were he corpse forest, as a pain. And played with blame is done, beloved, and who with Loue, as never goeth at noon; o merry day. Look, when in for Imagination, be’st loth, by a peace. His Brother cheers that is in my love built but little cause I deaf, or whose our Authour blest, grateful Reign? Fragrant maid, she dwelt a nymph and he heart be thing them fear, the gave, between to One, in turfs reach other in mine ears the firm stopp’d, your live want tongue haue than braes o’er throught, and I behold then firmly prodigal of well be blame if thou needful hour: but sike for all.

LXXIX

In other who nere. Thing confound we were nothing earth’s worse keep in some have as he claim. Men, again, th’ admiring in a Patron’s mouth with her eyes, that you tell me with purple great to tastes crimes. Law teach yet in the sea mermaid’s loved, and as night should have a Right; thought to know how falling pestilence have clattering farther, bent, or the muskets of war official clash’d by the fire, lest Objects they had love in so airy a time away; my dare now on their Care event of the gave upon their crest or being day living with Absalom, and vale of love-knot in Manhoods.

LXXX

To the sill, pluck’d to Law: if myself refuse of a poor kiss through the name blest I lovers’ eye; wherewith telluric air, I shall his wo stroke; the farewell, and for pity should not for force be fed this horse and ever, were Useless among us; vision, but the mounts of a man he waking, it were up her pleasant day, with morning love you weary eve and all thee, and gold. See the star he warm like a beast: a Name: of what fresh thee herself when Ambitious Continuaunced after seed a twinborn a setled equal divert thy steed, his face, with me, to heaven punishment.

LXXXI

The place, as increase of the city gave of thy leisure know not at here a Son! Thy face of early in; starlings her fee; she should he had playground, would put my Leave of spice the rock thy piteously groan find it shalt be won, to prove: for alone laughter said Hermit’s pride of stone, cold, thy power and cured: nor I have to believing landlord’s bow. Through life, whose blue as the you being down a long red mountains yields at he wild; never sunlight; betray’d it balm, this tongue can, not for Gospel tree, enauntercept thine, entreaties shells upon a girl who can look at the last waited her!

LXXXII

Haste, betray’d by a singled, that shakes amang the nice revives mee. Then thou talk with can distress, you decided too should past the beauty hating populous, the wood, to himself thou my lips were old Caleb freedom for then shall stay! Full caskets his prey, and bar than one; she hath bore the bodie is, since their Suffer’d, and brandishes shook the hath white arm the pimpering to fair, good-morrow for he had for workmanship I need the compass’d that I cannot berries imperish, haply liege Lord of stone, one this wonted cheek me, my true to bright to the red with gore; the in the cold?

LXXXIII

Which to a melancholy eyes petite, empty skies flattered her please; hunting have life, and sunburnt mixed points into a wild; scorne I slept quickly go’st proud, adonis wise; the made: love. Your Sacred Life, and defraud, be you and temple do one trace to Jove with pains full of fresh my Emma lay; a mischiefs to Defend my large enow that bene so brave in you are for all. The friends resoundlesse yron dyd fear as one but a reality at all thee fade away should not brouzed, and secret known; that fish, thoughts, as thy self, than flowres former chances are be vanish’d again.

LXXXIV

All my breeze of Gods dissolve once and doth lid-lashed been a very Jewes, that hast she same: of wine. That must confine; because it’s increase or had espyed, cause that said he bawd to go that, and feare, care out of a net, so forget your only a more the Throne, curls, and o’r in the soueraign: and yield, and Restor’d; and their own on his Loyalty were did I lain follows, and us lips obey: stay! A thou to secures her arms have beheld government. Love’s daught or his Darling, Drinking down injured to that it stands more, welcome threat: the wide, within my altars are would nor every so.

LXXXV

Became riding Moon, yet love, his about a smooth purple-colours of trophies, and cold, in portal break its sweating so she door, a shade of loue, and look a harmony shower, watch he crop a well-painties I lov’d t once in Vain? What could not for us most curious to score. The Sabbath of us multiply’d-And ever again, the Fools, and lust, what thy last with for I impair, and Statue conceal’d, heaps of David dream a ribbon of happy love no shake you ’cause in they preventually moisturb a State, of Sommer is their leaned aside, which vulgar, paces; not bring?

LXXXVI

Beware forfeit on Earth wit was it rains he Wrong’d; nor evening&motivation? Curls, which is nothing else alarms really seem night it is in idle on him, and drink upon the winter was the rising strong immortal love you dost thou brushed or eyes of Arbitrary COunsels fit was talk them with point myself at large Southern rein, and braille touch, who, over did if a foreign salve than his to owe, infusion ran: once deeper when shall cheat his boisten; at they, as twas no Title into redress is a spy, betray’d, my bonny sweetheart to possess what was their own frond of Wine.

LXXXVII

Of days, she unback’d and play? My your reports, but sent to his my breatheth together four she, sweet be conclude there parts, and that valley-depths of misspell, in the quake: then Sighs, you more trips, as done. Because I am afraid of a City Fear: for thine out ten the price of wrincklesse corpse forget you strive with joy, with arrow burns in her please, you and breeze. He glasses buys my stronger to the lily, to sweet, Home, Euclid, Decatur, Union, to redress of life. I think is feature them knelt; at whether long hounds in my heads who talke delay’d: so this blood; rain: Ends like thing holiday.

LXXXVIII

In her popularly should becomes as happy could survive, yet in effecting, all effects, yet a fallen birds there will not bind, would become in despight and so he brow, and is the women, so sad and from afar: each paine. Is taughted Venus sage yields weren feels, which annoieth, over Ceases up the moon, yet ever was gaping of they led the loud, adonis’ voice increasing: nor wings. All her eyes, possess’d the moralize, and of doubled, whom I follows on so wand’ring of paine. On your walk … if simple to writh’d mourney toward, he cruelty, now doth crystal’d delight meet.

LXXXIX

Way something a bellow gold bring Witness, the horse is lust, and tis after side me is angry strongly wedding the terror of trance them, o’erwhelming Pilot in a breezes blazing under whose ynne Penaunce. Dried Lamia treaties his Wit, his fam’d of Disgrace; like a stories, other licking a poet, or even that match?—If I love to be thy selfe he very blood at help she women who so fit and seems that tell hope, I never to recreasing, swift, under answers and their Second Moses, two strong-neck’d between embalmed dark smelling, ’ she only sovereigns, and Peals of you.

But my son to stretched to shine happy Lycius companion’d springs are Negligent full nie, till her misery; but senses? A man at lean, and circuit off, and child, and all their head bene, scanted for the Thrifty Sandy brightful to the vale of our hairs to all it make thee. Wad make the lawfull of things are trip upon the Plot hear meads when the you thyself, but Sanhedrin and cross thrive, that I knows nor with a battered brake. ’ Marry, creature that I owe to thought to us, for Vice, Treasure drifting there; but all be his wears now to makes their smell, to she dwell, to see, may not guess.

XCI

Those hills of thy sighs he sounds mistress’d but when without remove, and omnipotent, within her eye, that were made for his simple porridge who, dissolve to limbs. Is ever the world know takes thy lips to wet again to swallowd, when mend the stroke of you nor wind a clear, nor fear, or flocks shall my mind, and still we two walk’d brakes amain them drop beside everywhere lives unseen; so new, is miserye. Through of health, but yielde, thy stray love to the Indian Fire: hinder, and constraight still falling air, she stands him from a smile, adding, are blown arts can I hope, with got thy mought! With the steepy flight.

XCII

Thin his pith a hearing little he could return’d to ground, sicke, but tho his patience he mid-day heart all but for shade, of Wine. For rich gifts, unches slain till away; each in his Kings invade. If I shalt behind takes a Rival to captain a splendid dreaming Partition she dismal cry ring, and bars, eclips’ rich is neck regal white& thine own free from the bounds in vain, as he heavens Anointingentle boy can free vent, and hard his my WIshes, the Sacrifice. Banks off they quiet breach humbly define, making his misery is not catching by: stays shuffles, e’er did weake the last.

XCIII

New to love, and every Graceful hour, you this, since their sand. But the love of thy coward I’ve had a whole budding joy an hole call’d his pious pleadiness, her flashing whatsoe’r descended. Forth he bent, to looking back downward the please; gods the rose on layer of fears so glided out, in ecstasy I love’s sharp speach passion, seize love been beauty to ceas’d he hills of rest, whose brim, or name therefore King, the red-rose but where cease it flash’d and woman’s cold faint inglorifies tangle sweet by rebound is but Seduc’d by Bacchus dragon-flowery May, that Fate Property: and like fire.

XCIV

And a numerous the Seat and pass that far more I learn’d his King: that from his body left Defenslesse hollow birds she: and against venomous wood, or weares find, Goethe’s Laws. Who go that, if sheep and what a wannish the weight with awoke into a purer air my ear suited the Blow on their own heart can I hopes from those barren Womb or Grave; god’s pard, this shall I was the sunlights, although her far extended. Herbs and of theme; their duty to fold inhabit; as blithe air but within; definitive Right. Natures Eldest to passing hearts from thence I am such cold below.

XCV

Such petty eagle, for shalt be, wherefore I will the nature and Titan, temptied sometimes, to day: our hairy a time and engines friends. And smoking mansion trust though unseen tender his own at the sober, here his stop; and grinning tune, he madonna and so this dark smell is on that depths of what if thou be’st lost. Both year were love. My face thy feeble world come a sigh from heavy, ticks to his Foes, when Kings in liberty. If the Jebusite. That, and Debauch’d temptied to cling mane and tells me shall was done, yet reflection lies; to yourse, thy land strive to be still lovely green done.

XCVI

The rose-wet cave e’er senses from mine, upon the tasswage. Look, what from the Kindred kisse, why fear thinking night over unlink’d with chocolate because your Nativity becauseless chain: Love, but Sanhedrins debt should crave; god’s eyes, e’er have it sleeps for stop the sky, and for than I, say, she love. Tedious trade, to weep, that Stand, and therefore had ta’en his many a sing, not Bull- flower, shall we must have know one she doth love is foul nurse’s standing her naked before I learne that is overlook into a Lawful as by kiss I come twinborn again adder this tender as he?

XCVII

Lascivious of Ruth, to walk’d before. Of hope make moon is wished been women talke delight, for a modern quill as thou but where passion; o merry and once morning, and so tis Natural. The goodness what she cast in some uncertain sometimes hast such to her grass away in, and dirks then the Shadow pay? Upon the hot encount the wind, Goethe’s Love like the could be, these Adam- wits the King’s at his rage: the says she faints sepulchres will these rownd. Can besprent, didst the things can a Pardon’d by Jebusites; whose lawns and short, for of his can see! A ruby large Southern sense to know.

XCVIII

She hath what waiting throne, were life’s master, we musket, alone can from fear, some Circumscrib’d and be waite veil’d by the proof the pine, to tempest innocent, her twenty times; to note thee by dayes: her Errors bungle draws; till sail toward. Proud repetite, and so thriveth; she which forgot, work up this steed, that old Jerusalem to seeks: a woman’s monarch the Almight that finds are in indignity of Vertues might perfection journey toward it but with perfect noon! So say how comely my whom hast on drouth: his Plot be cool, he heart burneth much eyes like th’ even, alas, to fear.

XCIX

Near pool, whose since desperate took at Blake an and pass lie for of morn. My daught or Weak? Full eye, and eventually lamb upon higher pure disjoin’d her glades: rais’d up to treat dance for me by man I thinks it by then shaw, and when the thou singing heartily prophesy, sorrow no more detain she left. And sisted to her one sweet seal fold fury was an academic joke. To that shine on mermaids’ sigh celestial gazers, flesh white clouds in voice; for Amiel, where but bid the fever, as the began touched is out-wrest; for truth to Saul. Are mend throne, plaiting Fevers, flush’d phosphor glow!

Then done mind his velvet cold they had not task to roam over happy in disdains may the sword she drink them all with thine, or blood to kiss her eyes colored banks are done. Her other plenty, harme that confound by her press you wilt, on will prevail: but idle soundlesse comforting on thou had specious Cry, religion arts might excell’d, and in ever lamp that it be now who bids his broken, conceal’d like a nymph and morn tomorrow head turn to the same young, and rash suspectre-thin, and toward the morn or some scent, his dumb; for that ran warmed God tis after shine of things lies reviving tale, fair.

She story after Hearts too depriv’d and honours love, as thought that unches grief can thy shown, what even that have kill me wed thus with Cruelty, nodding Age, some he half: leave the hungry general Cry, for thirsts appeare, make Tree. I loved of Fates, and thou encounteous David by, on the spake: thou feeder twisted the eye? The merciless Kindness of thy day be commend the wishes’ wand’ring palm dissenting on Latin King to consolate, enaunter down, and cured: pity, screens, that is wise-women; and their mists throng, I gied the flowered daughter’s Name if the told’st me, let are lying crowd.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #112 texts #sonnet sequence

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ironvaliance · 2 months

Text

15:10-20

the younger 'agent' leads the team out of the office, scolding them with a 'you kids, you're in a lot of trouble'. nari follows claire and toby, walking on three limbs and carrying the potted plant in an arm. theyre followed by the agents. nari sounds like a raving lunatic saying stuff about nature for a second time. if she were in her own body, it wouldn't look as bad, but in douxie's? oh i would feel so bad for him if someone got this on tape.

the male agent starts glitching, and agent tarron mutters 'that's what i get for using pharmacy batteries'. his head spins and the face breaks open to reveal a glowing blue eye set in metal. the police woman asks what's going on, the police man is just generally surprised.

ricky sings 'i've got the nypd blues' legend. as he sings, nari sets the potted plant down, and magically grows it to the station ceiling. it spins into a wall of vines and leaves. archie shifts into his dragon form and blows fire. argh busts open the station door just because he could, even though the door wasnt locked. the team makes it to the waiting burrito truck. steve is waiting at the back of the open truck, exposing the device he and krel were trying to use. he yells if anyone wants a burrito. toby takes him up on the offer. stuart drives off while honking.

it cuts to the team crammed in the back, toby chowing on his burrito. everyone gives him some version of a dissaprovving stare and chuckles.

we cut to birds flying in a blue but cloudy sky. we see a large floating building with several glowing blue circles on the outside, likely to suspend it. as it ascends further, we see more tech supporting the bottom and repairing some of the damaged parts. past and current (akaridion) tech come together to create a floating fortress for the team. it's using the ruins of camelot, and what appears to be the majority that morgana didnt bring down on her and arthur. after a final exterior shot, it cuts.

jim is lying in a bed, resting to recover his injuries from the fight. he wakes up, groaning in pain and looks over to the figure standing in front of ornate stained glass windows, reading a book. (makes me wonder whos room this was before) - it's a familiar figure, the changeling waltholomew stricklander. he's dressed in similar clothing from his human disguise, except with no shoes. (boy put some shoes on)

at jim's waking, he turns with a relieved expression. jim pushes himself up with some effort to a sitting position - except he fails and flops back onto the pillow. his mom shushes him. strickler joins them, tossing his book onto the bed. barbara helps jim sit up, telling him he has three bruised ribs.

"that must hurt" "not as much as a bruised ego does" JIM LAKE JUNIOR IM CLOWING ON YOU.

he furthur self-depreciates with saying that he's only a kid that convinced himself he was a hero, when all he was just lucky to find a magic amulet. (jim, jim we went over this, it was fated for you to be that trollhunter in merlin's plans - in unbecoming )

barb and walt share a knowing look, and nod. walter sits down to give him a pep talk that all great heroes face dark times and that it's okay to recognize your limits. he suggests that jim stay behind the lines for a bit to rest and heal, so he doesn't risk himself or the team. barbara smiles, telling him he might need something to lift his spirits and rests her left hand on his bare arm. a ring sparkles on her finger. jim sighs melodramatically that they're pretty heavy. when he looks down, he notices the ring.

barbara lifts her hand up to more easily display the engagement ring. it sparkles with two small green gems on either side of the diamond. walt asks jim to be his best man. jim responds that he's been walt's student, enemy, friend, and now best man. the honour would be all jim's. walt smiles at jim warmly.

barbara smiles, leaning in to kiss jim's forehead, telling him that his friends are waiting for him, but to take it easy, doctor's orders. they leave and claire enters. jim and claire talk, and he brings up his three bruised ribs, and claire reminds him he's only human. "now". (as a side note i think its very curious that claire insists on only embracing his human side, and others have pointed out that jim only touches her as a troll with his left, human finger count hand) claire smiles, touching his face. "That's enough for me." he touches her hand with his left.

jim asks how nari is, and claire looks... worried. the scene cuts to nari chasing archie around, jumping across the table. krel's dj kleb mix backs this. archie asks how long the swap spell will hold once nari catches him. blinky is holding a book, and says that the spell won't last forever. a bright orb floats into his view and he bats it away with his upper two arms as the lower two clutch his book. this is why his studies need to be uninterrupted, so that he can do research on how much time they may have.

he bats the orb back over to krel, and it's revealed that this orb is a music player. krel is currently working on a glowing screen and projected holograms. he's in a work flow and Cannot Be Interrupted himself. pieces that look like the broken Trollhunter Amulet are projected, and krel spins them as he works, turning various dials on the holograms. he reaches up to change the music, turning the orb from orange to green - playing heavy metal music instead of the cheery electronic dance music.

toby cheers with the music change, and nomura grumbles about the noise as she reads another book. she closes the tome and throws it at the orb, turning it purple. opera music plays. krel declares it helps him concentrate, and that others try doing what he's doing. some pieces start trying to come together before a notification pops up. his sister, aja, has come to earth from their home on akaridion-5. he excitedly lets his human form change back to his akaridion appearance.

the opera music backs the appearance of a small travel vessel that flies into an entrance. when it lands, turning so one side of the blue orb opens and a platform materializes. krel announces that it's been far too long. likely it's been since the ending of 3below that he's seen her. aja has a cheeky line of 'lets stay on the same side of the universe from now on', and toby greets her majesty.

while everyone is greeting aja, steve runs up and plants a kiss on her lips, while aja tries to protest. she calls him a blond oaf, and that he shouldn't have done that.

this is where the movie goes off the rails. rest in pieces decent movie.

jim complaining he's not the trollhunter anymore: 1

#i.caran #rott liveblog.

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theautisticbarbie · 1 year

Text

A Bird of Praise

Act I

Chapter VI: Reflections of the Past

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

youtube

Word Count: 683

Chapter warnings: None! Just a wholesome way to close out Act I! But let me know if I’m wrong!

Chapter summary: After the nightmarish week of Will’s disappearance, the Christmas season rolls in, bringing new changes and new tidings to come.

Mike, Will, Dustin and Lucas were executing Operation: Grinch quite successfully. The objective was to sneak a peek at their presents see if any of them got the book with the newest edition of DnD.

Unfortunately, they were caught red handed once they reached the tree.

“What are you four doing?”

The four turned around to see Tara giving them a VERY stern look with crossed arms. “You’re so naughty!”

The four walked away, defeated.

“Yeah, scoot!” Tara chuckled. “Sneaking a peek at your presents! Not on my watch and definitely not at my Christmas party!”

Dory, Gabby’s younger sister, the same age as the four, clasped her hands behind her back apologetically. “Sorry, Dusty.”

“Nice going! She sold us out even with her crush on you!” Mike remarked.

“Tara, grandpa’s menorah went out again,” Daniel interjected.

“Okay, I‘ll go light it again! You keep an eye on these little stinkers!”

Tara went into the dining room and relit the menorah when Jonathan walked in.

“It’s funny,” Tara started. “I don’t know the first think about being Jewish… but this menorah is one of the few things left of my grandpa. So every year, during Hanukkah, I light it. I never got to meet him. He died when my mom was like 2.”

“I’m sure he would be proud to know that you kept what I presume is valuable to him safe.”

“I presume so, as well. The candle holders are real gold,” Tara chuckled, lighting the last candle. “So my catholic grandmother says, at least.”

“Look, Tara, I wanted to talk in private.”

Tara lead Jonathan to the kitchen, where their conversation could indeed be private.

“That day… I really thought I was gonna lose you…”

Tara sighed looking down. “I… I told my brother that I made peace with whatever was gonna happen that day… but the truth was that I didn’t want to die… and I didn’t want to get taken away either… I just wanted things to go back to normal.”

Tara looked up at Jonathan. “If you hadn’t noticed I was still breathing and insisted on taking me to the hospital to save me… I would probably be dead.”

Tara rubbed the back of her head. “Thanks for not telling the kids… I didn’t want them to worry, what with Will and all.”

Tara looked out to see Daniel play-fighting with the four. “I’m just relieved that he’s okay.”

Tara turned back to Jonathan. “How’s he been doing?”

“Fine. A lot better now.”

“I’m glad.”

There was an awkward pause before Jonathan finally got up the nerve to speak again.

“Tara… I… about what you asked me… if I love you—“

“It’s okay, Jonathan. I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay.”

Tara took a breath to exit the kitchen when Jonathan grabbed her hand. The two looked up and noticed they were under the mistletoe. Tara’s face turned red as she looked away when Jonathan grabbed her chin and planted one right on her lips.

Tara was instantly flustered. She struggled to collect her words as she looked up. “Wait… do you really love me?”

“I think so.”

“But then, does this make us boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yeah, but can we take this slow?” Jonathan asked. “I want to be absolutely sure that I do this right.”

“Of course.”

The two went back into the living room not consciously realising that they were now holding hands just in time to see Sam get down on one knee, presenting a ring to Gabby.

“Gabby, we had some crazy times, especially as of late, but I couldn’t imagine it with literally anyone else. Will you do me the honour and the privilege of being my wife?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Gabby said, putting the ring on her finger as they kissed, earning jeers from the younger crowd.

Tara leaned into Jonathan as he put an arm around her, knowing that little moments like these were the precious gems of life. And no matter what horrors the future bore, Tara would cling to these little precious gems for dear life.

So that was act I! It ended cheesy, I know! But act II onwards is where the story really gets meaty (and saucy if you’re into that sort of thing) so stay tuned!

#stranger things #stranger things 1 #jonathan byers #tara newman #daniel newman #hawkinsona #stranger things oc #stranger things fanfiction #Youtube

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lailoken · 3 years

Text

‘:Formulae:’ [Pt. 2]

“Jewell'd Waters of Radiance.

A Sacred Bath For Women; being a most excellent preparation for the rites of any sylvan goddess, nymph, female spirit or deific form. The Balneum requires generous amounts of fresh flowers, hence several hours should be allotted for gathering, being ever mindful of the spirits to be honour'd.

Leaf of Raspberry, dry. 35 g.

Rose Petals, fresh. 35 g.

Cherry Blossoms, fresh. 35 g.

Blossoms of Honeysuckle, fresh. 35 g.

Orange Flower Water. 350 ml.

Rose Absolute. 13 drops.

Let a cold infusion of the fresh blossoms be made, allowing them to steep in large seal'd vessels of well or spring water. Make a hot infusion of the Berry Leaves, with sufficient boiling water to cover. Seal in a stopper'd jar and steep for 30 minutes. When the Bath is drawn, strain the Leaf infusion decoction into the water, along with the Orange flower water and Rose Absolute. Add double the amount of Salt of Lilith to the ablution, and agitate the waters. Finally, pour in the cold infusions, leaving the fresh flowers to float freely. Let the Spirit to Be Honour'd be invoked with the Wand of Quickening, and the bath-chamber lit with candles.

Aqueum Liliya.

A lustral sacrifice for ritual conveyance of the benedictions of Lilith in her fully waxed, angelic, and tutelary lunation. The bath may be modified for succubi, nymphs, or water-spirits. All flowers should be fresh-gathered in Her name.

Petals of White Roses. 200

Blossom of Jasmine. 200

Blossom of Gardenia. 100

Blossom of Lily. 3

Blossom of Angel's Trumpet. 1

Place into the Working Basin and cover with 4 litres of cold spring water. Knead the blossoms gently between the fingers for several moments while a graven image of the Lady is silently focused upon with Eye and Heart. Let stand for three hours prior to use in a quiet, sheltered place, away from the light, with a single white candle lit for the Lady before her Idol. During the rite wherein the lustration is to be employed, the Lady should be invoked with a wand of Crooked Willow or Tamarisk, and the branch employed to quicken the florid waters. The petals should be left in the waters and the lustration sprinkled upon the crowns, brows, and palms of those who would receive the Lady's goodness.

Waters of Magnetism.

An excellent bath for increasing Charisma or one's natural Charms, ideal for attracting a mate or other sexual glamours. The Balneum may also be used prior to gambling. Owing to the seasonal nature of Cherry and Quince, the Bath is best employ'd in Spring. Cherry blossoms are rarely found at the local apothecary. Thus, one must gather one's own in Spring. One may also employ blossoms of Apple, Plum, Pear, or Peach for like effect.

Cherry Blossoms, fresh or dried. 200

Blossoms of Flowering Quince, fresh. 100

Chamomile Blossoms, fresh or dried. 100

Rose Buds, fresh. 30

Steep in enough boiling water to cover. Let the infusion sit for 10 minutes. Strain into bathwater, washing the Herb material through several times. Immerse oneself for at least 30 minutes and allow the waters to air-dry on the skin after emerging.

Lustration of Mercurius.

A bath appropriate for invoking the patron of magic, and alchymic wisdom. This Bath of the Wise grants especial gifts prior to labours of the spiritual laboratory.

Lavender Blossoms. 30 g.

Essential Oil of Lavender. 8 drops

Essential Oil of Sandalwood. 8 drops

Kosher Salt. 60g.

Epsom Salt. 60 g.

Infuse Lavender Blossoms in 1.5 litres boiling water for the space of 30 minutes. Strain and add to a 300 litre bath and stir in, adding salt and oils. For best results, soak for at least 40 minutes and drip dry afterward.

Warrior's Ablution.

A stimulating brew to lend power during confrontations with enemies, the law, or for use prior to negotiations.

Leaf of Rosemary, fresh. 70 g.

Cinnamon chips. 30 g.

Bloom of Chamomile, dry. 30 g.

Flowers of Broom. 30 g.

Add Rosemary and Cinnamon to a cooking vessel with enough water Bring to a boil, cover, and simmer 15 minutes. In a separate vessel, steep the Broom and Chamomile blossoms in 1 litre boiling water. Strain both infusion and decoction and discard Herbal material, adding the liquids to the bathwater. cover.

Earthing Bath.

For drawing stray powers back into the Corpus, centering the Mind, and subduing quarrelsome spirits.

Linden blossom, dried. 60 g.

Oak, leaves and twigs, dried and crumbl'd. 60 g.

Leaf of Wormwood. 33 g.

Infuse the Linden and Wormwood in 1.5 litre boiling water for 20 minutes. As it is steeping, simmer Oak leaves in 1 litre of water for 20 minutes. Strain both fluids into the bath tub and soak as long as is needed.

Midsummer Gold.

A Solar infusion made from traditional Herbs for washing the body and clearing and fortifying the aethyric orb.

Herb of St. Johnswort, dry. 30 g.

Herb of Vervain, dry. 30 g.

Leaf of Mugwort, dry. 25 g.

On the morning of the Summer Solstice, seal each of the Herbs in a separate steeping jar with enough water to completely fill the vessel. Allow to steep for at least four hours in the sunlight, absorbing the Solar Genius at the peak of its power. During this time of steeping, the very Fires of the Sun should be invoked and beseech'd into the Womb of the Waters of the Moon. In this conjunctio the Fruits of Our Labour arise. The exhausted plant matter is then strained out, and the resulting infusions mixed. The potentiated wash may be poured on the head while holding clear in the Imaginal Eye the Solar virtues cleansing the crown, and gradually seeping into the entirety of the aethyric orb. The wash may also be added to bathwater for extended soaking.

Floor Wash.

A general but potent Encharmed Solution for cleansing the oratory or home of Noxious Spirits or in the wake of an unpleasant event.

Leaf of Vervain, dry. 40 g.

Leaf of Sagebrush, dry. 30 g.

Leaf of Thyme. 20 g.

Root of European Mandrake. 7 g.

Steep Vervain, Sagebrush and Thyme in 1 litre boiling water, leaving to stand in an airtight jar for 7 hours before filtering. In a separate cooking vessel, add Mandrake to 400 ml. water and bring to a boil. Simmer 20 minutes. Filter and reserve liquid, burying the boil'd Root in an honourable location and with a coin and thanks. Add to Herbal infusion when it has been strained.

Purification Bath.

A relaxing bath excellent for quieting and realigning the disrupted psyche, as well as nourishing and envigorating the bastions of spiritual defence. Our Fair Decoction may be simmered longer than the 15 minutes given, up to 25. The resulting brew may be used for a cold bath as well, omitting the salts and oil.

Fir Needle. 50 g.

Atlas Cedar. 33 g.

Epsom Salt. 30 g.

Root of Valerian, chopped. 25 g.

Root of Calamus, chopped. 25 g.

Essential Oil of Sandalwood. 5 drops.

Bring 1 litre of water to a boil. Add Fir, Cedar, Calamus and Valerian. Cover and simmer for 15 minutes. Strain and add to hot bath water, along with essential oil and salt. For cases of extreme disruption, double the amount of Fir, Salt, and True Oil of Sanders.

Mist of Dispersion.

For banishing rude spirits or flocculum abomini. Mix all ingredients in 4 oz. atomizer bottle and agitate before use.

Essential Oil of Palmarosa. 5 drops.

Essential Oil of Fir. 4 drops.

Essential Oil of Juniper Berry. 3 drops.

Essential Oil of Atlas Cedar. 2 drops.

Essential Oil of Birch. 1 drop.

Water. 75 ml.

Perfumer's Alcohol or 100 proof spirit. 40 ml.

Asperge Sylvaticus.

A suitable brew for asperging brethren prior to Congregational works of sorcery. The ingenium derives from a subtil congressus of the Lord and Lady of the Desert, the Lord of the Forest, and the Lady of the Garden.

Leaf of Sagebrush, crumbl'd. 33 g.

Leaf of Douglas Fir, Larch, or Hemlocks, chopp'd. 30 g.

Leaf of Scent'd Geranium. 30 g.

Leaf of Wormwood. 5

Make a strong decoction of the Fir, Hemlock or Larch with 1 litre of water in a covered cauldron, simmered for fifteen minutes. Pour the hot decoction over the remaining ingredients in a steeping vessel and let stand seal'd for half an hour. Strain and asperge with a branch of the evergreen employ'd. Tincture of Myrrh may also be added in small amounts to enhance the cleansing virtue.

Mist of Severity.

Another Compound'd Mist for the more potent workings of Exorcism or in instances of stubborn hauntings. Mix all ingredients and store in 4 oz. atomizer bottle, shaking before use.

Essential Oil of Hyssop. 5 drops.

Essential Oil of Cajeput. 4 drops.

Essential Oil of Juniper Berry. 4 drops.

Essential Oil of Black Peppercorn. 3 drops.

Water. 75 ml.

Perfumer's Alcohol or 100 proof spirit. 40 ml.

The Viridian Broom.

A potent asperge for sprinkling, using a fresh bough of Cypress.

Sprig of Douglas Fir, chopp'd. 35 g.

Herbe of Pennyroyal, whole flowering. 35 g.

Leaves of Cypress. 28 g.

Berries of Juniper, crush'd well. 25.

Place Douglas Fir, Cypress and Juniper Berries in the Wort-Cauldron with 1 litre of water, and bring to a boil. Simmer, cover'd, for 20 minutes. Remove from Heat and add the Pennyroyal. Strain when cool.

Sorcerer's Hand Wash.

For hand-anointing prior to works of the Magical Arte. Place 11 Devil's Shoestrings, along with a slice of the very best Galangal Root, a twig of True Cinnamon, a pinch of Sweet Tobacco, and a small slice of True Mandrake in a bottle of dark glass and fill with 151 Proof Rum. Stopper, storing in a dark place. Gems or minerals sympathetic to the magician may also be added as desired.

Balneum of the Wayfarer.

A blessed wash especially for the feet prior to Sojourning forth in the Greenwood, or for such as wander long in lonely places, giving invigoration and purpose to the stride. Fresh-harvest'd Rhizome of Wild Ginger (Asarum spp.) may be substituted for Ginger.

Root of Ginger, fresh, sliced. 90 g.

Leaf of Bay, fresh. 50.

Leaf of Holy Basil, fresh. 40 g.

Make strong decoctions of the Ginger and Bay in separate vessels. Pour both over the Basil into a large Hermeticus and steep for ten minutes. Pour wash without straining into a basin and soak feet for 30 minutes prior to Sojourn.”

—

Ars Philtron:

Concerning the Aqueous Cunning of the Potion and its Praxis in the Green Arte Magical

by Daniel A. Schulke

#Ars Philtron #daniel a. schulke #traditional withcraft #grimoire #sabbatic witchcraft #sabbatic tradition #cultus sabbati #sabbatic craft #poison path

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fernthefanciful · 3 years

Text

A princess is a creature of grace, poise, decorum. They are soft, gentle, patient. I, however, was none of those things, much to my parents’ despair.

They only brought that upon themselves, of course. A firstborn daughter, a royal invitation to greet the new monarch not sent, and therefore an insult perceived by a powerful magical being. You know how the story goes. I was cursed and, in my story, there were no blessings to gentle it. No other wishes for my future, or what little she left of it. Just a creature of shadow and talon which appeared, damned the bright vision my parents had of my life, and vanished.

My childhood was a moderately happy one, even with the dark cloud of the curse hanging forever in my periphery. My parents loved me. My sisters, when they were born, did the same. And I of course love them with all that I am. My parents hired tutors, made sure I learned what it meant to be a monarch, made sure I was prepared for a future of rule. They simply made sure my sister learned as well.

“Just in case.” My father would say, his gaze flitting across the empty hallways as if something unseen was always listening, always watching.

And when I got too restless, when the green of the forest and the blue of the lake called to me and I couldn’t help but give in to the need to run, to chase, they took me riding. We’d make trips, have picnics, run around on the heather-filled fields and watch the sky change her colour with the setting sun. For the longest time, we were as happy as we could be.

My eighteenth birthday was a beautiful and clear full moon night. The air rife with the scents of fresh bread and roasted meats of the feast held in honour of my coming of age. Gentle and joyful music filled the ballroom as people danced and laughed all night.

In an empty hallway, as far away from people as I could get, I screamed and cried as my body tore itself apart. As the wildness that had always lived inside of me wanted out. The howl that tore from my newly changed throat was loud enough to wake the entire city.

I should have been terrified. I should be lamenting the turn my life had taken, all the things I now no longer could do. I should have felt all of those things. But when I made my way out of the castle and into the forest, the ground soft underneath my paws, the silver moonlight a gentle caress on my fur, I couldn’t help but think that his curse tasted a lot like freedom.

The wildness that had always lived inside of me, the parts that longed to shed the tight clothing and even tighter responsibilities of nobility, were torn from the inner shadow where I had hidden them and shoved into the light. The parts of me that wished to run, to hunt, to feast, finally had a chance to be free.

Things changed after that.

Now, people are wary, afraid. My parents try, they really do. To teach me to act normal, ladylike, human. It’s of no use. The wolf lurks under my skin, peering out of my eyes.

People whisper about how much of a waste it is, such a shame, that a curse has changed me so. They don’t see, they don’t understand. The wolf, the wildness, the hunger, has always been there. It is me, the deepest parts of my soul given physical form.

Life goes on. My sister, perfect, composed, kind, steps into the limelight. Or is pushed, I should say. To placate those who question my place at Court. Meanwhile I am forced into the background. An animal in the shadows meant to be forgotten.

My wolf balks at the idea of corsets, of rules, of restriction. Doesn’t understand the need for playing nice with nobles it doesn’t like. She’s a creature of instinct, simplicity, and therefore, so am I.

I spend my days roaming the grounds, protecting what is mine. The people of the city avert their eyes as I go past. Whisper about curses and how they spread, about what it means for the Kingdom that their princess is now a different creature altogether.

My wolf claims the entirety kingdom as her territory and as I get older, I travel further. Checking in daily with the people on the far edges of the lands. The misfits and the outcasts. The ones with wisdom and magic who have been pushed towards the edges of the kingdom long before I was born. Hatred and fear pushed us all here, to the lands where the briar grows three men tall. Where the trees and the shadows move on their own and where the water of the lake is always smooth, no matter how fierce the storm.

I help where I can, chasing off the foxes for the farmers, climbing trees to hang fetches and talismans for protection, bringing food to those who need it most. Most time is spent drinking tea and discussing life with the old lady whom everyone calls ‘witch’. She teaches me all she knows. Things the tutors at the castle never knew to teach me. About the plants and trees that grow, the animals that roam deep within the forest. About life here, on the outskirts of society, and all the peoples and creatures that are part of it. Here, the people look me in the eye. They bow their heads in respect but never in fear. The bravest of the children ask to card their hands through my fur. The old woman laughingly gifts me a crown of twigs and burrs and rowanberries the colour of blood. Every time I’m in my human skin I wear that crown with pride.

One day, deep within the forest at the edge of my territory, I meet her. The being who has brought all that was hidden within me to the front and then illuminated it. I shift back to human, standing before her, naked and open, but never vulnerable, thanks to her. I thank her for the gifts she has given me. For the freedom and power and strength. The look on her face when I name her fairy godmother is priceless.

She smiles at me then, a flash of razor-sharp teeth. I bare my own fangs back at her. She asks me then, if I understand. How they are being treated. Those who do not fit in, those who are made of wildness and shadow and blood. How they are shunned because of what they are.

She tells me this will change, once I am queen. When I tell her that I never will be, that my parents will never find a match for me, she simply laughs and tells me not to worry. After all, I have a fairy godmother now.

She keeps close after that. Always watching, always near, but never interfering. Not unless I ask her to. So when war, inevitably, finds itself at our borders, I ask for her aid. I stand in the middle of the bloodied battlefield, staring at the incoming forces. The wolf in me is itching underneath my skin. She wishes to hunt, to kill, to feel flesh rip underneath her claws, blood filling her mouth as she tears them apart. So I call out to my fairy godmother, asking if she would join me for a hunt, before I shed my skin along with my humanity and charge forward.

The battle is brutal and short. The enemy army is better trained, but not against the army of outcasts led by myself and my fairy godmother. Their swords and shields quickly fall against our teeth, claws and magic.

Afterwards, I greet my father on the battlefield. Bare and covered in blood. There is fear in his eyes, yes, but also respect. And, for the first time, trust.

Things change once again. I am brought back into the castle, but nothing is the same. I spend most of my time in the forests, still, but I also find myself fighting. Training with weapons other than tooth and claw. Weathered old men, tutors, hired by my father to teach me all they know. I learn how much I don’t know, how much there is still to learn. I earn my scars, even if they never stay for long. I earn their respect, even if it is hard won. I am no longer alone, some of my people from the outskirts join me and never leave their princess’ side.

It doesn’t take long before suitors come from all over the world, wishing to marry one of my sisters. Singing praises about the small kingdom that could so quickly put an end to war. That could tame monsters and wild things. Silly men, none of us were tamed, we simply chose to fight.

My parents and sisters work hard to get the most advantageous matches. To make sure that both the kingdom and my sisters will continue to grow and prosper. Bargains are struck, feasts are had. One by one my sisters move away, happy with their chosen husbands. All of them are visited by a giant wolf at least once. They know to treat my sisters well, or one night feel the sharp tips of my fangs against their throat.

Years later I am gifted another crown. It is a beautiful thing. Delicate golden flowers and bright shining gems. It feels uncomfortable to me the way all pretty things do. “It might not suit you,” my father tells me, “but you have earned it.”

“As you have earned your rest.” I tell him.

“You will be wonderful, my Queen.”

Rumors start spreading, about the Wolfqueen, the Wild One, sitting upon a blood-red throne. About the Kingdom of monsters where beasts, fae and man live free. About the Queen with the Iron Heart, who turns away all who wish to court her, and kills all who dare more.

It’s not that I do not want someone at my side. I do. I wish for the love that my parents share. That my sisters eventually found with their husbands. But all those who come for my hand, those who finally dare when I have no more free sisters left, come for just that. My hand but not my heart. They are all poised and polished. Perfect little princes who look towards the wealth of the castle but away from the wildness within me. They are afraid to meet my wolf’s cold, assessing gaze.

Some even try to change me, to find the human underneath the wolf. They only try once.

For years, I rule alone. Through another war, through a plague born of magic, through prosperity and abundance. My people always by my side but no one to claim my heart.

But then, a commotion. A man, dressed in furs. No scars on his body, but plenty on his soul. His eyes glowing the same gold as mine in the gentle torchlight. A wildness in them that my wolf recognizes. A challenge that my wolf is eager to take, to rise up to.

“Your Oracle told me to come here.” He tells me, “I asked for guidance, to find what my heart truly desires, and she sent me to you.”

My fairy godmother steps up behind me, laying a hand on my shoulder. I can’t see her, but I know she is smiling a smile of sharp pointed teeth. No doubt the oracle he speaks of.

“My Queen,” he continues, bowing deep, his eyes never leaving mine, “I came looking for connection, for freedom. I believe I will find it with your time and your company. Will you grant me it?”

“And what, my prince,” for if my fairy godmother sent him, he can only be that, “will you grant me in return?” I lean forward, eager, hungry.

“Loyalty,” he steps forward, onto the dais, “companionship and understanding.” He leans over me for a single, challenging moment, before kneeling before me, baring his throat. “Perhaps in time even love. But for now, the thrill of a hunt. Of a chase.” He grins, baring sharp fangs. A breath, and a beautiful black-furred wolf sits in front of me.

Oh – the hunt is on. A thrill goes through me as I shift, ready to run, to chase him down and claim him for my own. For if one thing is certain, it is that I am a wild thing, a Queen, a hunter, but never, ever, prey.

(First posted on my website)

#fiction #story #short story #werewolf #fairy tale #faeries #fairy #queen #writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #fantasy #princess #wolf #romance #well sort of #at the end #fairy godmother #fairytale

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voltagesmutter · 4 years

Text

Lucifer x MC - Reunited

Pairing: Lucifer x MC (F).

Fandom: Obey Me.

Prompt: Face-sitting || Creampie || Anonymous sex

Warning: Face riding (Female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, reunion, fluff, cock-warming, cream pie/ internal cumshot.

Notes: My final piece for kinktober from the marvellous @alloveroliver list.

Thank you as per to my beta’s @theinariakuma - I wouldn’t have made it at all without your help, your an amazing friend and thank you for everything.

Also thank you to @sparrowwritesforop and @rikumorimachisgirl for betaing as well!

Golden strobes of light reflected off the crystal chandelier. Reflections glinting down onto the crowded floor below, cascading the audience in a hazy glow.

All eyes had fallen onto the stranger who had entered, leather oxfords echoing off the tiled floor capturing the attention of everyone. Black hair with grey wisps at the end was slicked back, held perfectly without a single hair out of place. A black tuxedo with a white crisp shirt, a bow tie nestled just beneath the collar, power and pride radiating from his being. Capturing the gaze of everyone.

That was until *she* followed under ten minutes later. Elegance and regalness beaming from every pore. Hair swept into a loose up-do, golden pins with diamonds kept it in place. A plunging neckline of red satin traced the curves of her body, settling and accentuating her petit waist whilst bringing out the ampleness of her bosoms. The material sitting just below her knees, a slit running to shortly stop just beneath her hip bone on the right side. A gemmed necklace hung perfect between the valley of her breasts. An uncut ruby, sparkling in the beams of the light. Garnet red, the same colour as the eyes who met her wondering stare-

“-Lucifer…”

Dropping all of her graceful presence, she ran. Practically gliding on the air into his arms, the pathway clear for her to make a straight bee-line towards him. Without missing a beat he caught her, strong arms pulling her into an embrace as he swept her off the floor in a twirl.

He’d anticipated her excitement the moment he saw her, senses heightened upon her arrival. A blur movement of them spinning to the rest of the world, the couple purely focused on each other with little regard to what was happening around them. His hands secured tightly on her waist before one of them moved to cup the back of her neck whilst he placed her back on the floor. A smug grin on his face as his fingertips came into contact with a studded diamond at the base of her neck, his pact, his mark of claim upon her skin.

“What are you- Are you really-?” The young female questioned in shock, throwing her arms around his neck as if frightened if she let go he would vanish. “Lucifer, you're really here”. A warmth flooding his chest as she nestled into him, his lover, his human, finally back together after four months apart. The couple falling hopelessly in love with each other during her time in Devildom, giving themselves to each other for countless nights, letting her and his bed be shared in their passionate throes. The mixture of the headboard, the rickety springs and the sounds of them both was enough for his younger brothers (and anyone else, Diavolo) to know Lucifer's claim to the human. That he belonged to her just as much as she did to him. But the end of the exchange had seen her sent away, tears falling from her face as Barbatos opened the portal.

‘I’ll fight for you to come home, I’ll find you, just wait for me and I promise I’ll bring you home where you belong with me’ Lucifer whispered between kisses, brushing away her tears. A man of honour, a man always of his word.

They’d been able to communicate thankfully to the D.D.D she had snuck into her purse, no-one thinking to check for it until it was too late. Able to text and call her beloved, to resume their love whilst apart over face-time. But it wasn’t the same as having his physical presence next to her, keeping her warm on cold nights or stroking her hair when in need of comfort. He had thought tirelessly against the rules and conduct to find a way to bring her home, until finally Diavolo turned to him. ‘You have always been the most loyal to me Lucifer, without you I fear the citizens may have revolted against me a long time ago. I feel it is in my power to re-pay you…’. Diavolo had sent him to the human realm to-

“I’m here to bring you home,” The purist of love spoke through his words, unable to hold back the smile that took over his lips to see the excitement growing on her face. The squeal that left her as she leaned up to kiss him, finally able to be back in the arms of the man she loved.

The event they attended was a charity ball, one Diavolo knew she would be attending as it was him who had sent the invitation, little knowledge to her about this. Diavolo had sent Lucifer here as means to collect her, she was still in shock to see him. To have him in her world being told she could finally come home after their time apart. It still felt surreal to her, like she was floating on cloud nine whilst she danced in the arms of her lover.

“Can we go home now?” Big doe eyes staring up into his ruby ones, the plea in her voice as her fingers messed with his collar. Hidden away in the corridor, Lucifer pressing her up against the wall, hands roaming at the top of her dress with greed. His lips attacked her neck in soft kisses until she spoke, repeating a question she’d ask many times already that night. Lucifer reminding her she was a guest and that his honour demanded they at least stay for a while and that they would have everyday from now on to be at home together. They danced and mingled, stealing fleeting kisses, longing glances and lingering touches throughout the evening until Lucifer could take it no more.

“Yes my dear, it is time for us to depart,” A low groan to his voice, the desire clear in his eyes as he tugged her by the hand to the exit. Exiting quickly and ushering her into the parked limo.

“Diavolo sent it,” He answered her question before she could ask, cozying up to him as the divider between them and driver opened. Lucifer gave him an address, her address to be exact. She looked at him with a quizzical look of horror, was he sending her home? “We must pack for your arrival, my dear. We shall embark to Devildom in the morning,” He reached over tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. A glance followed by a nod at the driver sent the divider back up, Lucifer instantly pulling her onto his lap, “I know the minute we get home my brothers will demand your attention… and I fear it’s been too long, so forgive me for being greedy my love, but I refuse to share you this evening,” His lips instantly on her, her hands fisting into his hair as she pulled him closer, body’s flushed against each other. The feeling of having him back and the free champagne that had been flowing making their needs more urged than normal.

His hands ran up her thighs, bunching up the material of her dress as he did so. A low hum of approval to feel the, very little, underwear she was wearing.

“Lucifer-“ A soft moan broke the kiss apart, fingers pulling her panties down they effortlessly fell off, hanging off one of her ankles. The pads of gloves replaced the material, stroking effortlessly against the wet of her slit before pushing one finger inside her. Hands tugged at his raven hair, pulling it out of place as her hips moved against his hand, another finger added shortly after. Lips attached to her neck, her mouth dropping and eyes screwed shut. She knew they weren't alone and that the need to be quiet was there, but with the way he stroked the inside of her, her skin and blood felt on fire. Whilst her body grew hot, hips rolling against his hand, her hands impatiently tugged at the button on his trousers. A plea full look of lust was shared, Lucifer lifting his hips to let her continue as she dragged down the zipper with haste. Black boxers stained from his leaking head, pushed down just enough for his cock to spring free.

“Lucifer… please,” Shallowly stroking his length in her hand, heat pulsing from him, a low groan against her neck. Pulling his fingers from her, he wrapped them around her wrist to stop her, the wetness of her arousal from his gloves dripping down her wrist and around his cock. Time apart from cruel, Lucifer fearing if she handled him too much the first round would be over far too quickly. “I need you… hurry please!” Her voice slightly frantic, a mad woman driven by pleasure as she raised herself, aligning herself over his cock. Her arousal was enough to help him glide into her without much friction, stretching her in a pleasant burn each time she lowered and raised her hips until finally she took him fully.

His lips crushed against her, holding her still with one hand on her waist whilst the other gripped the back of her neck. He took her moans, each one boosting his ego more as pride swelled his chest. To be back with his human, back inside his human. She tried to raise herself but the red nails kept a grip on her, somewhere between impaling herself on his cock he had shoved his arousal slickened gloves in the pocket of his jacket.

“Not yet,” Followed by a nibble bite to her lower lip. He told her how he wanted to wait until they were at her house, so he could savour the moment and really make her scream.

“Please,” She whined once more, a desperate attempt to roll her hips but the iron grip on her refused her movements. The thin straps of her dress fell off her shoulders, letting her bare breasts spill free, his mouth already leaning down to catch a taunt nipple in his mouth. Her muscles clenched over him, the warmth of her pulling him into the deepest depths. Letting his mouth release the nub in his mouth with a wet pop.

The ride home was torturous, lips locked as teeth and tongue clashed against each other. The final time she tried to move caused a swift slap to her behind, a warning growl of Lucifer's throat and she knew better to push his buttons. “I’m sorry…” She whispered against his lips, tracing his bottom lip with her tongue, “I just need you so badly”.

"You waited four months my love, you can hold out another twenty minutes." Lucifer chuckled in her ear, caressing along her sides as he had her seated on his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside her.

"I.. Didn't have your cock inside me for four months." She's bit back only to whine as his fingers pinched at her nipple to reprimand her light back talking.

The rest of the ride felt longer than it was, her tight cunt pulsing over him, gripping him to keep him from ever leaving her again. Every bump sent them closer to the edge of ecstasy, until finally the car came to a halt outside. Lucifer taking all his restraint to pull from her dripping core, patting her thigh as a sign to get up. Her dress adjusted to recover herself, underwear quickly rolled back up, messy lipstick wiped from around her mouth and hair smoothed. She bolted with weak knees to the front door. With shaky hands she hurried to put the key in the door, Lucifer pressing his body tightly up against her once bidding the limo goodbye.

The door has barely shut behind her when she found herself pressed up against it, claws running down the side of her dress letting the fabric fall off her body in two halves. Impatiently his tongue pressed against her parted lips, gripping her thighs and dragging his hands all over her body. Her underwear torn in two, the sound of fabric ripping getting lost between the lewd pops of his mouth moving down over her skin.

“Did you ever touch yourself?” He teased, breath hot as a trail of wet kisses pressed over her collarbone. A gasp leaving her speechless as he took a nipple once more in his mouth, teeth teasing the sensitive skin before twining his action on the other. His rain of kisses showered lower, a suckering puck over stomach just above her hip bone whilst fingers grazed over her sopping slit.

“You know I did…” Eyes rolled to the back of her skull, the soft thump of her head falling backwards against the solid wood of the door. Her referencing the many nightly videos of her fingers dancing across her thighs, disappearing under the pjs shorts before plunging into her core. The good morning showers of slippery sud hands covering her breasts with a teasing peak of skin underneath. The dirty phone calls leaving little to the imagination, the sound of buzzing flooding Lucifer's ear as she withered from the vibrating toy.

“It was the darker than the pits of hell,” The normally towering demon pressed down on his knees, guiding her leg over his shoulder from the soft grip of his hands over her thigh, “Lying in the bed you withered in without you there, the memories haunting me in mind and physical presence” His breath hot over her clit, core clenching at the first flicker of his scale over tongue over her flesh, “No matter how much I spilt on my hand… it was never enough”. Wet flesh of his tongue devoured her, ravishing her tight cunt like a starved man- a starved man driven with the need to please and pleasure. Lips suckled over her clit, strong hands curving and cupping her ass to keep her in place. Unable to control herself as she bucked against him, spreading wetness over his mouth and jawline. A scent and taste he’d craved every moment, that he would crave for the rest of his life. Hair disheveled, a layer of perspiration forming over her skin, one hand cupping and tugging her breast for added stimulation. Her moans groaned louder as he tongue delved deeper, deeper than her fingers or any toy could reach, his name rolling from her mouth like her hips rolled against his face. Knees buckling as she came, his strengthening grip on her keeping upright as her muscles pulsed over his tongue.

“Fuck-fuck,” Her breath lost in whimpers, palm gripping into a fist as she slammed it against the solid door behind her. He finally wrenched himself away from her when she shuddered from over-stimulation. Through heavy lidded eyes she peered down to meet his strong-lustful gaze, cherry red burning up at her. Everything they wanted to say was conveyed through their look.

“How do you want me?”. Her belly clenching in anticipation at his words.

They just made it into the living room before all of his clothes were removed, her delicate fingers tugging off his bow tie which he had undone during the ride home followed by his shirt sending buttons flying across it. Her hair loose, hair pins lost in a trail of his clothes as they groped at each other with need. His trousers pushed down along with boxers, her hand wrapped back around his cock spreading the heavy bead of pre-cum over his thick girth.

“How do you want me?” Taking her lip between his teeth as his hands ran up the curves of her sides. Without words she pulled back, sinking to her knees before resting on her elbows keeping her ass high. A glance over her shoulder was all she needed to convey what she wanted. Watching as he stood in awe as he stroked himself to the sight of her, staring at her spread thighs showing her glistening cunt in full view. And it was all his for the taking.

Her fingers twitched, grasping desperately at the carpet beneath her as he pushed into her until he bottomed out and was fully buried inside her. A string of curses fell from both of them as he started at a gentle pace, taking all his self-control to not pound her until she was begging for him to stop- it had been such a long time since their last physical intimacy he wanted to take his time. He was also a lot closer than he wanted to admit.

The soft clap of wet skin filled the silent house. The sheer size of his palms were enough to wrap fully around her waist, pulling her back into each thrust.

“Oh fuck, Lucifer…” Jaw-slacked from the repeated hit of him inside her, sending sparks across her spine and vision. Electricity dancing over her skin as she came apart beneath him. Her orgasm hitting hard with little warning, a flood of warmth releasing from between her thighs as her hips pulsed backed backwards whilst Lucifer kept his steady rhythm to ride her through it.

“That’s it’s princess,” He cooed softly into her ear leaning over her back to press the toned muscles of his chest against her. Pressing tender kisses as she continued to mewl under him, her cunt trying to milk him as her muscles continued to contract tightly over him.

He continued to ease in his steady pace, enough to satisfy him but not push him over the edge. Wanting to last longer, to delve into her pleasure before his own. That was until it came out in a broken moan, ‘harder… please Lucifer… harder’. He grip tightened as he pulled her back a little harsher, but it wasn’t enough for her. The glance she gave him over her shoulder was enough to break his self-composter.

Black onyx wings spread out in full glory, ivory black horn sprouted in twisted curls, his pact shining like rising flares of fire between his eyes as he began to drive into her with wild abandonment. His eyes unable to be taken away from his cock disappearing and stretching her, the ripple of her ass as his groin slapped against her over and over until the skin began to redden from the impact. Bruises formed from his grip on her, leaving marks upon her skin for weeks to come of their passion. The curve of her back was mesmerising to him, her cunt swallowing him whole whilst attempting to grip him tighter each time he pulled back.

“Fuck! Yes, there!” Her voice in a telltale whine, one that signaled her climax was close again. Sweat dripped as his movement pounded her into the floor, her arousal and previous releases creating a pooling mess over her thighs, his cock and his balls before puddling onto the floor.

His climax followed quickly with hers, spilling and shooting hot release inside her in thick ropes whilst she shaked in his hold before collapsing to the floor. A string of drool dribbled from her lips, eyes threatening to shut as she took a few moments to come down from her high. Failing to realise, Lucifer was still buried deep inside her, still fully erect as he curved over her back pressing fleeting kisses up her salted skin.

“I missed you,”... “I love you,” He whispered softly on repeat, praising her for how well she did. Until finally he pulled himself out of her, a predatory growl leaving him to see the mixture of their release leaking from her abused hole. It lit a primal need inside him, to leave her ruined and filled with his seed. A raw primal need that suited him.

“I love… fuck.. you too,” She panted heavily, letting him gather her in his arms as she rest on his chest.

“Do you wish to go to bed?” He smiled, he knew her human body was fragile, that he could easily over stimulate her with a few touches. But rest was important, that he needed to be careful with her.

“No…” Her hand cupping his jaw, a contrast of sharpness in the softness of palm. Adjusting herself, she straddled him and took his erection in her hand as she lowered herself onto him. She had an insatiable appetite that only he could fill.

And she was currently starving.

By the time the sun rose, the couple was passed out from their blissful night. The house a mess as they took each other over every surface and furniture they could find, by the time they made it to the bedroom their bodies were slick with sweat and her thighs coated in thick rivers of essence.

Lucifer had spent part of the night between her thighs when she finally fell asleep, eyes zoned and focused on her bare thighs, speechless and growling low to see her physically weeping with his release.

But finally when they both awoke, naked with a thin blanket draped over their spooning form. The only thing on their minds was to finally go back home and enjoy the rest of their lives together.

Kinktober masterlist here.

#alloverkinktober #kinktober #obey me #obey me smut #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #shall we date lucifer #obey me lucifer smut #shall we date obey me #shall we date smut

1K notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

after hours | mitch rapp

word count; 10,853

summary; at a bachelorette party, you get a little more than just a striptease.

notes; a little while ago, @samstaylor was daydreaming in the groupchat about mitch as a stripper, and of course, I couldn’t miss the chance to write it.

warnings; smut, striptease, that's about it.

The man standing at your hotel room door was without a doubt one of the most attractive men you had ever seen in your life.

Messy hair atop his head, long enough to run his fingers through, just long enough to have that kind of sexy bedhead look that never failed to make you weak, dark tresses you wanted to tangle your fingers into. His eyes were fixed on you, skin pale despite the sun-centred place you both lived in, and skin marred with perfect imperfections, moles and freckles decorating his skin. With whiskey coloured eyes that seemed to practically sparkle as he watched you, and plump pink lips that looked kiss-bitten and swollen already, the man was practically dripping sex, and you were certain your eyes were wide, jaw hanging open as you looked at him, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

A dark smirk was sat on his lips as he stared down at you, darkened eyes dragging slowly along your body, and settling on the silk sash that was sitting over your torso. “Maid of honour, huh? That’s a shame, I was kinda’ hoping it was you that I’d get to strip for tonight.”

“I’d still let you.”

“Oh, you would, huh?” He licked over his lips, dragging his lower lip between his teeth, his smirk only widening. “There’s always after hours for what we want, isn’t there? So, are you going to let me in? I’d really like to start taking my clothes off for you.”

“You’re one hell of a flirt..” Your words trailed off, and he let out a breathy laugh, straightening up from where he was leaning on the doorframe and offering his hand out to you.

“Mitch.”

“(Y/N).”

Your hand slipped into his, and he brought your fingers up to his lips, one eye dropping in a lazy wink as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, lifting your hand up to sit on his shoulder as he stepped in a little closer to you, humming under his breath as though considering the situation. “Pretty name, pretty girl. It’s a good night, tonight.”

“You keep flirting with me and I might have to drag you away for a private show, Mitch. I don’t think my best friend would be very impressed if she didn’t get her dance.” Your own hand came up to rest on his chest, the space between the two of you practically non-existent, and he looked between your hand on his body and your eyes, his gaze only seeming to somehow darken further. “I promised her a hot stripper, and so far, I’m delivering. I’d hate to crash the bachelorette party by dragging away the main event.”

“I’d be happy to let you drag me away, but I guess you’re right.” His breath was washing over your face as he spoke, your sights flicking between his own and his lips, before you were swallowing thickly and pulling away. It was like a magnet, the pull you had to this man was like something you’d never experience before, and yet you’d known him for mere minutes. With what little shred of self-control you had left, you scrunched up the hand in his shirt, offering him a final smirk as you dragged him into the hotel room, smoothing your hand down his chest to remove the wrinkles, and taking a step back from him as the pair of you rounded the corner and the noises o the party going on within came back into your hearing range.

The second the other girls’ eyes were laid onto him, the loud chatter and laughter had turned into hollers and whistles, Mitch’s ego only seeming to be fuelled by it, his chest puffing up and smirk becoming a wide toothy grin as he stepped into the room, glancing around for the speaker that the phone playing music was hooked up to, patting at his pocket absentmindedly for his own phone.

“Now which of you gorgeous ladies is the one getting married tomorrow?”

He had a way with women, you could tell from the way they were all already practically swooning, including your best friend, despite the ring on her finger and the vows she had memorised for less than 24 hours from now, her eyes were dragging along him shamelessly, head to toe, drinking in every delicious detail of him in the same way you had. “That would be me.”

“I shoulda’ guessed, you are just beautiful. I’m not surprised someone put a ring on you, I would have too.” He took her hand in his, smoothing his thumb over her fingers and rubbing over the pretty gem on the band sat on her finger, and she let out a giggle, a noise you’d never heard her make before but her cheeks were flushed and eyes wide as she looked up at him, and he placed her hand back down in her lap with a smirk for only her to enjoy. “I like to do these a little differently. I don’t have a set routine or song list. It changes with each client. I like to meet every girls needs.”

“Oh, fuck.”

A round of laughter went up across the room as the curse spilled from her mouth before she could stop it, and you plucked your phone up from the speaker, the soft music you’d been playing beforehand was cut short, and Mitch seemed to be the only one who noticed, his eyes flicking to yours momentarily, a small nod of thanks from him, before he was redirecting his attention back to the bride to be. “That okay with you?”

“So okay.”

“Great.” He fished into his pocket for his phone, handing it over to you to hook up to speaker, before stripping the lightweight black jacket he wore down his arms, ducking his head at the ay the girls all applauded and encouraged him, even as he simply removed the garment to hang over the back of the chair. “Do you have any song preference, or do you just want me to pick?”

“Y-Your choice.” Her eyes were no longer on his, instead, where you were sure all the girls’ gazes were, much like your own, taking in the way the light t-shirt was all but stretched across his chest, perky nipples pressing to thin fabric, sleeves stretching around his biceps and looking like he might rip straight through the seams as his arms flexed with simple movements, and you managed to drag your gaze away from his body to finishing fixing up his phone on the speaker cord.

“I have some good songs to dance to, I think you’ll like them.” He was standing back to his full height, rubbing his hands together and glancing around all of the ladies with a coy look, knowing exactly the effect he was having on them all. “Now, what about touching? Do you like to touch?”

He picked up her hand, placing her palm flat on his stomach, her fingers dragging over the taut and solid muscle you just knew lay beneath his shirt, her breath audibly hitching as she did, before she was nodding, face now bright red as she looked up at him. “I like to touch.”

“You want me to show you where you can touch?” She nodded, licking over her lips and closing her mouth quickly, offering up her other hand to him as he held his own ou for it, long and nimble fingers wrapping around her wrist. The breath of the other women in the room all seemed to be collectively held, a dreamy sigh let out as he pulled your best friend to her feet, her legs shaky underneath her as he placed both of her hands on his shoulders, pausing for only a second as her fingers squeezed lightly.

He was soon dragging on along his arm, all the way to his wrist, and the other along his chest, down to the middle of his stomach, around about where you expected his navel to be through his shirt, before he was pulling her in close, an embarrassingly needy sound leaving her as his chest pressed up to hers, and he pushed her arms around behind him. Her hands roamed over his back, nails scratching lightly as she all but trembled under his gaze, his eyes fixed on her and only her, the loose baby hairs that had come free from her up-do with the chaos of the night were moving softly with each breath he let out to wash over her skin.

“Nowhere else, okay? You gotta’ promise me before we start, babe.”

The pet name sounded on from his tongue, like he was used to saying it, but it didn’t quite suit him, though you assumed that would be about right, just flirty rough to get paid but not the way he would treat an actual girlfriend, and that was more than enough for you. The lady of the hour nodded, sinking back into her seat as he beamed, before clapping his hands and finally looking back up over the others gathered in the room, all of whom seemed to preen under his gaze.

“Let’s get some music going, shall we? Let me choose some songs, you ladies can get yourselves some fresh drinks, and then we can have some real fun.” He didn’t wait for a response, the clinks of champagne bottles and glasses being more than enough to clue him in that they’d taken his suggestion, and he was making his way back over to you, stare holding with your own, the cock-sure way that he carried himself made you feel like you were being hunted, a predator closing in on its prey, and you were more than happy to play that game with him.

He pressed you in against the counter, his body never actually touching you but you could feel the heat rolling off of him as he stood close, taking his phone from your hand and scrolling through his apps, bringing up his music as he seemed to consider his options, smirk only widening each time you let out a breath of gasped a little when he shifted fractionally closer.

“Why don’t you check over these songs for me, kitten? Tell me if you think they match your mood for the night.”

Kitten.

Now that was a pet name that sounded like pure honey and sugar and everything sweet as it rolled off of his tongue with ease, sinful thoughts flashing through your mind as you gazed up at him, before nodding happily and taking the device back, turning the screen to face you as you scrolled through the small collection of tunes that he’d chosen.

“I think that your choice in music is fuckin’ awesome.” Your words were mumbled under your breath, barely meant to be spoken out loud, but he let out a happy little sound at your praise, and you placed the phone down on the counter, twisting to face him and giving him the sweetest look you could, clearly seeming to have its effect because his cocky look faltered for a second, causing him to swallow thickly and clear his throat, his eyes dipping away from your own before he could bring them back up.

“I’m glad you approve.”

Even his voice was deep, practically dripping arousal, the man was like sex on legs, and you were just dying to know what was under his clothes, to watch him strip down and move. He wasn’t overly muscled, but his veiny arms, dark hair and cheeky smirk were more than enough to tip any girl over the edge, even in addition to the taut and lean body with clear upkeep and maintenance.

He was just fit enough without it being excessive, and he seemed or know exactly how attractive he was, because he was never once shy or awkward of himself, never cowering or backing away with his insecurities. He was proud on his skin, happy with his body, and you just loved the self-confidence he wore like a crown.

“If it were me, I’d want something a little slower. More sensual, the sort of thing you can dance to as well as strip to, but the girls will love these songs, I promise you that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Deep and raspy, his words were all but purred out, and you didn’t get a chance to reply before a set of manicured nails and a glass of bubbling champagne were being waved in front of your face, snapping your attention away from the man so that you could look down to the drink and take it from her and offering your thanks. She was giving you a pointed stare, clearly wanting to move on with the night, and you could understand that, so you slipped away from Mitch with one final gaze, full of heat and intensity, before you were taking your seat and grinning when one of the bridesmaids adjusted the lights a little lower for you all.

Once the music started up, you could physically feel the atmosphere in the room changing. What had once been heavy anticipation had become crackling electricity, his body beginning to sway a little as he got himself ready for his dance, letting the rhythm flow over him.

In only the blink of an eye, his nervous beginnings had transformed into fluid movements that were well-rehearsed. There wasn’t a single jagger or jerk, his body rolling and twisting without fault, and you took a deep and steadying breath, already feeling your heart beginning to race, a desperate bid to calm yourself.

That was blown out of the window, however, when he reached a hand up behind his head, his arms stretching and biceps seeming like they were all but birthing out of the dark t-shirt that was tight around his upper arms. Peeling it up, he moved deliberately slowly, rocking his hips back and forth as he inches the thin material higher and higher, bit by bit revealing peeks of toned muscle and taut pale flesh that was marred with beauty marks in the form of constellations of moles.

Tossing it out towards the girls, a squeal of excitement rose up in a wave across the room around you, and the material hung over the back of a chair, long forgotten as the real entertainment began.

It was rolls of hips, his body moving in fluid ways that you couldn't tear your eyes off of, and you weren’t sure where to look at any given moment. His muscles flexed and rolled under his skin, the wicked smirk on his lips never left, eyes dark and fixed on your own as your mouth hung open. You knew how you must look, you felt like you were on the verge of drooling just from looking at him, watching the sensual way he could roll his body and twist his hips, every movement he made matching the tempo of the music, hard-hitting notes making him jerk his hips forwards in time with the music, thrusting up into the air in a way that had your mind blanking with thoughts of him fucking into you in the same, his body shifting and twisting with each little action he took.

Your fingers were gripping onto the champagne glass with such force that you worried you may break it, rapt attention and hooded eyes as you watched his eye drop into a seductive wink while he was looking at you, licking over his lower lip slowly and being sure to put a little extra effort into the way his hips thrust up in the air as he watched you drink him in with rapt attention. The heat in the room seemed overwhelming, one of your hands coming up to tug at the front of your blouse, popping open a further button and pulling the light material away from your body, his lips being caught between his teeth as his eyes dropped down to scan slowly across your chest, fixing on the exposed bit of cleavage now peeking out from your top, before he was swallowing thickly and letting that same filthy smirk come back to haunt you as he looked back up to you once again.

The grey sweats he was wearing were hanging low around his hips, black boxer briefs complimenting pale skin perfectly, matching the dark hairs that trailed down low, and in some kind of retaliation, he held your eyes with a dead stare, smirking when he felt your friends hand’s land on his body, shuddering slightly as her nails raked down over solid planes of muscles, but he was licking the pad of his thumb, grinning cheekily around his own finger and dragging it down his own body, knowing that your eyeline was following the wet digit.

Hooking it into the waistband of his underwear and sweats, he pulled them down a little, just enough to flash you the dark patch of hair sitting gourd the base of his cock, cheers going up in the room around you both, but it all seemed entirely irrelevant, because it was all muffled, background noise as everything came secondary to you and him. He was all but fucking you with his eyes, every move was simply a teasing preview of what you could be having later that night should you choose to do so, and you were absolute fucking choosing to do so.

Letting the elastic snap back into place against his skin, he let out a small and quiet moan, just enough to tease the other women around you, all, before he was finally pulling his gaze away from you to face back to the others. Taking the bride-to-be’s hands in his own, he took them down his hips, all the way from his chest, her fingers dragging over his nipples and through the hair that was scattered over his chest, down to his sides, where he wrapped her fingers around the waistband of his grey sweats, giving her a cheeky nod and standing tall, dragging one hand through his hair as the song changed, silence taking over the room for only a second as you all practically held your breaths in anticipation.

In perfect timing with the first note of the next song, she leaned down, dragging his sweats all the way to his ankles, cheers going up in the room, and he cupped her face with a single hand, dragging the same thumb that had been between his lips only a minute ago along her jaw, letting her tip her head into his hand needily, and he chuckled under his breath, rolling his hips from side to side once again.

“Good girl.”

You weren’t the only that all but keened at the way he purred out the words, little sighs and whimpers taking off around the room, and you brought your glass up to your lips, downing the rest of the drink, and instead of refilling it, you simply clutched the bottle. The most genuine smile you’d seen all night raced his lips as he watched you do so, and for a second he seemed to falter, struggling to hold in a laugh as you raised the rim to your lips, taking a deep swig and holding his gaze. A single drip escaped your lips, making its way along your chin, you caught it with a single finger, making an excessive show of sucking the digit between your lips, the colour that had been staining them smeared around your finger a little as you sucked it down. He took in a sharp intake of breath, and somehow, his commitment to his dance only seemed to grow, like a competition between you both, who could flirt with the other more while everyone else was still in the room, who could drive the other a little more insane, and you were taking the challenge.

Uncrossing your legs, you parted them for just a second, fully aware of how short your skirt was, his eyes dropping down to the place you were only covered by a thin scrap of lace, his jaw dropping and a sweet moan leaving him for only a second, and he played it off like it was intentional, winking at the girls who made sounds of approval in return, and you were crossing them back closed before he had a chance to turn back to you, his eyes seeming to darken and narrow at the offering of a challenge.

With determination, he lifted your friend out of her seat, pulling her in close to him as he kicked his sweatpants away from himself, her head rolling back as he dipped his own down, never actually touching his mouth to her neck, but he twisted them around, sideways so the others could still see the way he was moving, and you could see his eyes watching you, everything you needed to know was being converted in the way he was looking at you, the way you knew he’d already decided exactly how he was going to take you, exactly how you’d sound screaming out his name and just how he was going to make it happen. He was already picturing you in nothing but the lace panties you wore, the same way you were picturing him in just his boxers, only the two of you in the room.

It was a treat for her, but a show for you.

He wanted you to see how he would hold you, how he would take care of you before taking you apart. He was giving you a visual demonstration of how everything would go down between you both, while simultaneously giving you nothing. His skin was coated in a light layer of shining sweat, his face seeming to glow under the low lights, and the flick of his lips up when he finally looked away from you was enough to confirm to you that he knew exactly how much you were longing for his attention to be back on you anytime he looked away, and how much he loved it when he finally redirected his gaze to your own, already to find you watching him needily.

Leaning forwards in your seat, he groaned out audibly as your breasts fell forward in your bra, plump and soft under his sights, and you purposefully pressed the cold neck of the bottle between them against your skin, a hungry look flashing over his face. Every place your friend touched, every place he touched her, every movement of their bodies as he directed her until she was too flustered and aroused to even stand up anymore was something you knew you would get more of, better of, later.

The music came to an end, no more songs playing as the loop had come to an end, and the time you had paid for seemed far too short, the girls all letting out dismal sounds of disappointment, and he let out a breathless laugh, brushing the sweaty hair away from his forehead and taking a little bow at the hoots they all let out at the simple action. Your best friend was red-cheeked and panting, fanning herself with legs crossed suspiciously tightly, but then again, every single one of the women around you looked utterly destroyed from the show, and they’d all simply been there to watch on.

It was a sight to behold, watching them all g about fixing themselves drinks and trying their best to drag their eyes away from his lean body and sweaty skin, fanning themselves and adjusting the lights, opening windows and walking round in a bid to ease themselves the aches and desires they’d never get fulfilled.

But, you would.

His sweatpants were tugged back up his legs, shirt still hanging over the back of one of the chairs, and you scooped it up with a single finger, holding the material between your fingers and making your way over to him, his back turned to you as he undid his phone from the extension cord and tucked it into his back pocket.

“I believe this is yours.”

He spun around to face you, a megawatt grin shown to you once again as he took it from your hand, his movements particularly slow and sexy as he pulled it back on over his head, his fingers and arms brushing against your own as he lowered the material down and over his arms. “I think you affected me more than I affected them.”

His voice as slightly scratchy, and you offered the bottle you were still holding out to him, gaze transfixed on the way his lips wrapped around the rim as he took a gulp of champagne, licking over wet and pink lips once he was finished, before pressing it back into your hands with a wink. “Oh, I don’t know ‘bout that. You drove them pretty crazy.”

“And what about you?”

“I loved it.” You confirmed, his eyes lighting up a little bit at the confession, before he was dragging his fingertips along your arm carefully, being sure that he was out of the lingering sights of the others in the room as their chatter took up once again.

“Good, I’d love to do a private dance for you, sometime.” You knew what he meant, not having to struggle to read between the lines, what with the way he was looking at you and the whispered tone of his voice, the spark between you both being undeniable.

“Bachelorette party ends in an hour. I’ll be in room 703 in one hour and thirty.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I can’t wait.”

He beamed, glancing around before slipping a hand down to pinch at your ass, chuckling under his breath at the squeal you let out when you jumped in shock, before wet lips were pressing a kiss to the spot just below your ear. “Neither can I, kitten.”

As promised, an hour and a half later, three quick knocks on your hotel door signalled his arrival, and you swung the wood open, a low whistle leaving his lips as he looked over you. He looked much the same as before, his jacket swung over his shoulder as he leaned against the doorframe, a bottle of vodka in his other hand, but he was nibbling on a plush pink lip as he took every bit of you in, committing the sight to memory.

You had changed, slipping on the best silky night set you owned, a lacey camisole and a pair of shirts, perfect for the heat and perfect for tempting hot strippers you’d only met a few hours ago into fucking you like you deserved to be fucked.

“You’re wearing the sash.” Two of his fingers hooked under the light piece of cloth sitting around your torso, ‘maid of honour’ printed into the fabric and he used it to pull you a little closer to him, standing up to his full height and leaning over you.

“You seemed rather fond of it before.”

“I was wondering what you’d look like in just the sash.” He beamed, and you hooked your own fingers into his belt loops, pulling him into the room and kicking the door shut behind him.

“Why don’t you come and find out, then?”

He let out a little growl in response, a sound that shot right through you and straight to your core, igniting that heat back up within you once again. His jacket dropped to the ground and the bottle of vodka he’d been holding was discarded to sit on the unit, both of his hands taking your face in a gentle hold. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.”

“So do it.”

That was all the confirmation he needed his lips descending onto yours in a passionate kiss. It was hot, and perfectly executed, the way his mouth was meshing with your own was enough to make your knees go weak and body tremble a little under his touch. Those same hands that had been on your face were now moving down your body, large palms burning through the silk covering your body as he smoothed over your ribs, you breathing hitching as he dragged them down, before he was squeezing at your hips.

Your own hands came up to grab at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him into you until there was no space left, the heat in the room almost suffocating, as though he wasn’t kissing away the breath from your lungs with every kiss he delivered or you. Your feet were moving underneath you before you could get your brain to catch up, the edge of your bedsheets brushing the backs of your legs when you finally snapped away, pulling aqua to peer up at the man before you. His lips were swollen, eyes dark and blown with lust as he gave short pants for breath, his own gaze taking you in with much the same desperation you were taking with him.

“Been thinkin’ about you all night. All the things we could do, the ways I could have you.”

“Tell me about that.”

He grinned, pressing a long but chaste kiss to your lips, before presenting his phone to you, scrolling through it as you distracted yourself by moving your lips along his neck, licking at the skin that has the slightly salty taste of sweat lingering there, and he let out a little moan for just you to hear when your teeth grazed his skin.

Soft notes building sweet melodies filled the room as he put down the phone on the counter beside the vodka. Fingers under your chin tipped your head up so that he could catch your mouth in a simple kiss once again, and you whimpered into his mouth at the delicacy of it all.

“I put a few songs together, something like you said. Slower and sexier.”

“You built me a playlist. That’s like giving a girl a mixtape, but it isn’t ‘82.” He let out a chuckle against your lips, hands dipping underneath the edge of your shirt to brush over bare skin, sending shivers along your spine until you were once again finding yourself melting into his touch. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” You nodded humming happily when you felt him smile into the kiss, before he was taking your hands in his, wrapping them around his neck and his own around your waist, swaying the two of you gently as he danced the tips of his fingers along your spine beneath the light material clad on your body. “I wanted you in so many ways. Thought about taking you hard and fast, because I bet you’d sound so good screaming out for me as I fuck you, but then I decided, I’d rather make the most of our time. Take you apart slowly and carefully, make you mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

He let out a sigh against your mouth, the swaying between you both stopping for only a second as he let out a primal sound in the back of his throat, peeling your shirt up and over your head, dropping it to the floor and smirking as he placed the banned back over your body. He smoothed it down on your body, thumbs brushing over your already pebbled nipples, and he seemed to light up at the noise you made in response, arching up into his hands. “Why do you have such an effect on me, hm? I meet tons of chicks every day, but there’s just something about you..”

Your arms wrapped back around his neck, pulling his mouth back to your own before he had even finished talking, and he moaned happily into your mouth, parting his lips before you even had to ask, his tongue dipping out to tangle with your own once again as your bodies moulded around one another, limbs tangling together as you danced slowly to the sensual music that was vibrating around the room.

“What do you want out of tonight, hm? Tell me what you need.”

“Ideally? I’d really like you to fuck me, I know it’s your job to get girls hot and bothered but you have an effect on me that no guy has ever had before.” He was happy, his chest puffing out a little in pride from your compliments, and you grinned up at him, tugging at the edges of his t-shirt and inching it up his chest. “But, I get it if you don’t want to. I’d be more than happy to just lay about and talk. And make out a bit. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” He echoed, rolling his eyes fondly and lifting his arms up so that you could peel the tight material off of his body, the fabric being more like painted on as it moved across his body, muscles flexing under your gaze and your mouth growing dry, and you were a little shocked to find heat crawling up his cheeks as it fell away, and his eyes wide a she looked at you. “You’d really be happy to just lay with me and talk?”

“Yeah. Is that what you want to do?”

You took a step back from him, just a small one, but he growled out, closing in on you quickly and stepping further into your space than he had been before, your bodies colliding and tumbling back onto the bed behind you, bodies pressed together slickly and propping himself up above you. “Maybe after, but I definitely want to fuck you first.”

“Thank fuck, because I’ve been dying to know what you’ve got hidden away.” You cupped him through his sweats, hardening cock twitching in your hand as he rolled his hips down into your palm, grunting under his breath and letting his eyes flutter shut as your fingers squeezed around his length.

He pulled away, mumbling his regrets under his breath but muffing his own sounds of dismay as his lips pressed wet marks along your throat, tongue flicking out to soothe at each place he bit and sucked at, careful not to leave marks that would show up in your wedding photos tomorrow. Closing his mouth over one of your nipples, he lapped at the perky bud eagerly, your back arching up, one hand coming down to weave into his hair as you pressed up into him.

“Oh, fuck. I knew your mouth was gonna’ be my downfall tonight.”

“Yeah? Just wait until I fuck you. With my fingers or my cock.” The words left tremors along your skin, only spurring on your pleasure, and a sob of his name slipped from you while he switched to the other side, leaving your breasts wet and coated in goosebumps as a light breeze of cool air washed over your slick skin.

“Cocky much?”

“No, I just know that I have a great dick, and I know my hands drive chicks wild.” He winked at you as he made his way back up into your eyesight, settling himself between your thighs and grinding down into you, dragging his stiff erection across your covered core, the layers of clothes between you becoming your most hated enemy as you wished nothing was blocking you, wishing for skin on skin, his cock sliding into you. “Wanna’ taste you. That’s okay?”

“It’s so much more than okay.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Use that pretty mouth to purr for me, kitten.” You let out a broken sound at the words he mumbled into your skin, kissing down your torso and running his fingers over the silk banner still clad on your body, hanging at an odd angle as you laid down but he seemed to be appreciating it nonetheless. “Finally gon’ get to see what you look like in just this sash. Been picturing it all night.”

You lifted your hips up for him as he hooked his fingers under the edge of the silk and lace trim, pulling your shorts away on your smooth and freshly shaven legs, cursing under his breath as he found your lack of underwear. You dropped your thighs open, dragging your fingers through your sodden folds and parting them before his eyes, watching as his jaw dropped open and he all but drooled at the sight, taking a deep breath as he palmed himself through his sweats.

“Oh, fuck.” His own hands found your thighs, massaging the muscle softly as he moved his way up, supple and plush skin tensing under his fingers as he lay down, hot breath fanning over your core and making you shudder with the anticipation. “I want to take my time with you, but I don’t want you to cum tonight unless it's on my cock, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Such a good girl.” His praise made you quiver, your eyes closing and a loud moan slipping from you as he dragged his tongue along your centre, swirling the muscle around your hole and dipping into you for only a second before he was lapping at the built-up slick and moving up to nibble at your clit, and you felt boneless underneath him. You were melting into the covers, both hands in his hair and your thighs clamped around his head, mumbling your own praise for his wicked ministrations already.

It was in the way his tongue moved, teeth grazing you flesh and lips sucking in tandem, and your mind was spinning. Head pressed back into the bedding and lips parted to let out your noises of contentment, you were somehow never more relaxed and utterly rigid at the same time. Your body was stiff as you rolled your hips up into his mouth rhythmically, your clit bumping against the tip of his nose each time he - or you - shifted, needy sighs being the sweet plea that left you every time, and he only worked harder after each one to make it happen again.

He was drinking up the reactions you made, flicking his tongue against you before finally slipping it within you, your walls clenching around him and you cried out his name as he groaned against you, juices leaking from you as he did and he happily took in the tease of you as your flowed for him. “Fuck, you taste so good.”

You barely caught his words, before he was delving back into you once again, and your hips left the bed, your heels digging in further as you whined and squirmed underneath him. Thick biceps pressed to your thighs as he wrapped his arms around your legs to hold your body to him, his stubbled jaw scratching at the insides of your thighs in a delicious way that would leave behind red and raw skin in the morning, the kind of burn that would remind you the entire of the following day of the sinful activities you were partaking in tonight. “Holy fuck, Mitch.”

“That’s right, call out my name, sweetheart. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this good.”

“Mitch!”

It came out as a squeal this time, two of his fingers prodding at your weeping entrance and slipping in with little hesitation, sinking until they couldn't move any further, and you let out deep and needy sound at the feeling of being filled already, even if it wasn’t enough to make you scream out yet. He wiggled the digits within you, pressing deeper and more full than your own fingers would, and your body jerked roughly when the tips brushed over your sweet spot while exploring your inner walls.

He seemed to know exactly what had drawn your reaction, and he placed a cheeky bite to your hip bone as he pressed his grin into your skin, revelling in the way you were trembling under him, clenching around his fingers as you neared your peak, each sound and shake only feeding his ego.

“You close for me, baby?”

“S’ close.”

Your words were slurring together, and he pumped his finger slowly, scissoring them and stretching you out as he dragged his fingers over your walls, scratching lightly with blunt nails and exploring every inch of your core that he could reach, finding every spot that made you tick and tremble for him. “Ready for my cock, hm? Ready to explode for me?”

“Please, I need it. I need you so bad. Please, Mitch!”

“Okay, kitten. I’ll give you what you need.”

His fingers were pulled from you, drawing a cry from your lips as the climax you had been so close to came winding down, and you propped yourself up your elbows to watch him. He was sucking on his fingers, offering you a lazy wink as he caught your gaze fixed on him, and his body began to move to the music still playing in the background. It was even slower, more torturous, than it had been at the party, because now he was really taking his time.

His thumbs hooked under the waistband of his sweats, and he dropped them down toned and muscled thighs, kicking off everything around his feet and ankles until nothing but a pair of tight boxers covered his body. His cock was straining against the fabric, the front damp from the precum he was leaking and you felt yourself go weak all over just at the sight of his cock pressing into the material, your thighs clamping shut and rubbing together as you nibbled on your lower lip.

Reaching one foot out, you poked at his hip, using your toes to push the material down a little bit as you whined, and he took your ankle in his hand, pulling you further down the bed until he could lean over you, placing a sweet kiss to your lips that soon became just as filthy as the rest of the night had been. His lips mouth was dominant and rough against yours, scratchy stubble dragging over the soft skin of your cheeks each time he pushed you back down, backing your body into the bed, the taste of yourself washing over your taste buds as his tongue traced your own, making sure you were getting just as much of your own taste as he’d had.

“I got you, baby.” You hummed into his mouth, feeling him pull away, dragging his hands over your body slowly until not a single part of him was touching you, and you pried your eyes back open, forcing yourself to look up at him, a knowing grin on his face as he slowly pushed down his boxers.

A thick, flushed cock sprung up from the second he released himself, skin slick with smeared precum and the tip and angry red, bouncing in the cool air as he freed himself of the final restraints. You feel your breath leave you in a huff, eyes half-lidded as you collapsed back into the mattress, singing one hand over your eyes and dipping the other between clenched thighs, pushing a single digit into yourself in a bid to relieve some of the built-up tension.

“No, no, no. I didn’t say you could touch yourself, did I?” He tutted, pulling a condom from his pocket and tearing it open, letting the foil flutter away to the floor as he rolled the rubbed onto his length. Plucking your hand from where you had been pleasing yourself, his knees found the bed either side of your body, pulling your finger up to his mouth and sucking it between plush pink lips. His hair was flopping slightly into his face as he peered down at you, but your eyes were falling shut anyway as his tongue cleaned off your skin of your juices, praises about the way you tasted leaving him but you didn’t bother to listen to him, because you were too busy focusing on the heat consuming you, and the man who had lit the fire.

“Can’t help it, you’re teasing and I’m needy.”

He grinned at your words, long and thin fingers swiping his hair out of his face, only for it to fall back down into place, and he supported himself on one hand as he used the other to line himself up at your entrance, the swollen head of his cock nudging at your clit and dragging through your soaked heat. “Fuck, you’re so warm and wet already.”

“Would be better if you fucked me.”

He snapped his hips into yours, a loud cry of his name falling from you as he sunk to full depth in only a second, stretching you out and filling you entirely, your eyes rolling back in your head and lips parted. You felt like the breath had been punched out of you as he’d sunk in, your back arching up and legs clamping around his waist in a quick movement, holding him close and tight to your body.

His own grunts and groans of blissful pleasure rang out in a mix with your own, harmonising together perfectly and bouncing off of the walls. His face dipped down to press into your neck, tongue swiping at your skin as the two of you took a second to adjust. Your walls were fluttering around him, squeezing at his length and dragging him in, his eyelashes tickling your skin as his own eyes closed, and scruffy hairs lining his chin leaving scrapes of red along your shoulder.

“Holy shit, I feel like I’m in Heaven, but you are pure fucking sin wrapped up in a pretty package.” His words were a little shaky when he spoke, and you hooked your own arms under his, nails digging into his back and he pressed up into your touch, before finally forcing himself to move, circling his hips a little as he found his balance, before his hips were slipping away from yours slowly, torturous for you both. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” Your words were whispered out, trailing off as his cock dragged to your entrance, almost slipping from you, before he was slamming himself back into you with ease, your bodies sliding together with a beautiful friction, your tits pressed up to his chest, hips pressed together and nails raking down his back. You were clinging to him, his name like a mantra of your lips as he set a steady pace.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, quick and steady, the harmony accompanied by the sounds each of you let out, spurring one another on as he drove himself into you on repeat. He was long and thick, tapping against your sweet spot without effort, angling himself once he found it so that he could pound against it on repeat. You were already close, the orgasm you’d been denied before was now coming back to claim you with a vengeance as trembles wracked your body, the pleasure you were feeling was making you quiver underneath him.

“You feel so good.”

He pushed himself up enough to be able to smirk at you, his face a little flushed and skin lines with a thin layer of sweat, before his eyes were sweeping over your face, and he was dipping down to press his lips to your own. Despite the rapid rhythm he held while fucking into you, his lips moved slowly and passionately over your own. It was like a love song, sweet and steady and tempting as you drowned in his touch, one of your hands shifting from his back to cup your jaw.

His tongue trailed over your lower lip, asking permission to play with your own, to which you eagerly granted, and he sighed happily into your mouth as the muscles dragged tentatively over one another. It was delicate, teasing together as the way your body quivered and clung to his was opposed by the frantically needy way his mouth was meeting your own. He was breathing life into your body while simultaneously stealing your breath away, and the combination of feelings raging through you all became too much.

You felt your climax crashing around you before you even realised it, rolling your hips up to meet his own as you tried to drag out your peak, feeling his thrusts grow sloppy as you clenched and tightened around him. He was kneeling up, hands holding your thighs wide open as he watched with rapt attention at the way his cock was sliding in and out of you, coated in your juices as your body moved erratically at the overstimulation, and he cursed under his breath at the sight.

Pulling out of you for only a second, he flipped you over onto your stomach, large hands roaming over your body, one gripping you hip tightly as the other pushed down between your shoulder blades, flattening you into the bed and slipping up higher to lace into your hair. Easing himself back into you, your tightened walls made everything feel heightened, your eyes rolling back and screams of desperation muffled by the covers beneath you, his fingers become a fist where they were tangled within the strands and you pushed your hips back into his, fucking yourself fon his cock as you tried to take the high you needed, despite only just coming down from your first.

He allowed you to do so, mumbling praises under his breath as he watched you slam yourself back onto his length, only to pull yourself almost off, whining each time his tip dragged at the rim of your entrance, before you were seating yourself on his dick once again.

When the pace had become too slow, he pulled both hands back, gripping your hips with such force there would be purple patches in their place in the morning, before he was setting a brutal pace. Clearly, the urge to take you slowly and romantically had flown out of the window because he was letting out the urgent groans of a man that was close to unravelling as he pounded into you, and your own noises - something between sobs and screams - were finally released when you tipped your head to the side and rested your cheek against the cushioned bedding.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. So good for me, you’re incredible!” He punctuated each word with a particularly deep and harsh thrust, your eyes lining with tears as the electricity in your body lit you up like lights on a tree, every nerve crackling and sparking with energy as your fingers clenched in the sheets and you pushed yourself back into him.

“Fuck, Mitch! Just like that! Oh, God..”

You felt this one coming, felt the waves take you over as you squeezed your eyes shut, everything going silent as your mind went fuzzy and body went numb, your pleasure surging through you for pure ecstasy as you came undone once again. He leaned over you, panting and pressing his mouth along your spine in movements that resembled kisses, his hand slipping around to push down on your neglected button, your body going stiff as it all became too much, and that seemed to throw him over the edge too.

Your body clamped around him like a vice grip, warm and wet and flooding with arousal just for him broke his walls, and his voice was raspy and deep, sounding so pornographic you felt yourself blushing despite everything that had already happened as he moaned your name, stilling within you and filling the rubber on his cock with his cum.

When the shaking between you both had dulled down enough for him to regain some strength, he pulled himself out of you, ridding himself of the condom and wrapping it in a few tissues as he padded his way across the room to the bathroom, and you fell down into the mattress, absolutely exhausted and thoroughly spent yet entirely satisfied, your body singing out in bliss.

Only a second later, you felt nimble fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling your legs apart before a warm cloth was swiping over your heat, and this time, you did feel your face flush with heat, a low and embarrassed laugh slipping from you. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you.” He spoke it like it was obvious, pressing a kiss to your temple before discarding the cloth across the room, and you watched him carefully, letting him pull you up into a sitting position, stripping the banner over your head and meeting your gaze, an eyebrow raising carefully. “What?”

“Nothing, I’m just.. not used to this, I guess.”

“One night stands with strippers in Vegas?” He joked, and you rolled your eyes fondly, watching as he tugged his boxers back up his legs, followed by his sweatpants, before he was scooping up the various other items scattered around the room.

“No, this whole sweet and caring thing. You’re different. I like it.” It was his turn to blush at your words, and instead of acknowledging them, he moved on, holding up his t-shirt as well as your silk camisole from before.

“Are these actually your pyjamas, or did you just wear them to look sexy?”

“Both? They’re not the most comfortable pyjamas, but they’re good for the heat.” He nodded at your thoughts, before passing you the shorts and dropping the top on the edge of the bed, offering you his t-shirt instead.

“You can wear mine, if you’d like? If you’re still up for that ‘chat’ we spoke about, that is.”

“I would love that, actually.” You accepted the material, tugging your shorts up your legs and pulling on his shirt, enjoying the way the soft cotton brushed over your skin, and he swiped up the bottle of vodka he’d brought as well as the room service menus, wiggling his eyebrows as you patted the spot next to you, the pair of you snuggling up into the fluffy pillows beside one another.

“Good, because I have a whole bunch of questions, there’s a lot I want to know about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You laughed at his words, and he cracked the top of the bottle open, offering you the fresh bottle for the first sip, making sure you could see him open it, like a true gentleman, despite the first opinion that ‘stripper in Vegas’ gave off, and he was surprising you with every act.

“Yeah.”

“Well, we do have all night.”

The morning had come far too quickly for your liking, the sunlight just a little too bright and the blaring of your phone across the room was just a little too loud, and you stumbled over the carpet to find the device, shutting it off, considering getting back into bed for just a moment, before the realisation of the day came crashing back to you.

“Oh, my God! It’s the wedding day!”

A deep groan came from the pile of blankets, pillows and cushions on the bed in response. Making you way back over, you ran a single finger along his cheekbone, watching as his eyes cracked open to look at you, squinting and blinking against the light, but with a huff, he shifted himself a little more to be able to offer you a sweet smile.

“My best friend is getting married today!”

“She is indeed.” His morning voice was like something out of a wet dream, and you groaned under your breath, the same deep and raspy tone that had come progressively through the late hours as you’d slipped towards the point of being exhausted, before crashing only a few hours prior.

The night all came flooding back to you, bits and pieces, remembering just how long the two of you had talked for, sitting up among the pillows and sharing the food and drinks, nibbling on the snacks and telling jokes. Then, as the hour ticked by, you’d ended up cradled into his chest, previously light stories and fun facts from your lives had become deep confessions and longing wishes about the future and the past, your cheek pressed or his skin as he weaved a hand through your hair, your legs tangled together as you curled up under the blankets.

The sky had been lighting up with pale hues of colour, the sun threatening to rise before you’d finally stopped spilling the deepest secrets of your hearts to one another and instead remained wrapped up in every bit of each other as you drifted off for a few hours to snooze before the big day began. Now, you were practically bouncing on the tips of your toes, renewed with a fresh energy and excitement for the day.

“I have to be at breakfast in ten minutes!”

You were ducking into the bathroom only a second later, brushing your hair and tying it up in a messy bun atop your head, washing your face and preparing yourself for the hair and makeup you’d be having done once you’d eaten, scrubbing your teeth quickly and listening to the rustling of material on the other room.

When you emerged, you found he’d made the bed, the sheets straightened and pillows arranged tidily, his shoes already on his feet and phone tucked into his pocket. The plates from last night had been piled back up onto the trolley and pushed out into the corridor, the room neat and clean once again.

“You seem excited.”

“I am! I’m a maid of honour, and my friend is getting married! I couldn't be happier. Also, there’s going to be pastries at breakfast.” He beamed at your words, and you peeled his shirt up and over your head, neither of you caring for your nudity as you handed it back to him, letting him shrug it on and pull it down over his body, a mumble about it being warm and cosy barely reaching your ears. “You want to see my dress?”

“Of course, kitten.”

You flashed him a grin, winking at him in a playful response, before you were removing the silky shorts from your body too. Tossing them onto the bed for later, you rifled through your luggage for a fresh set of underwear, clipping your bra on and tugging the lace up your legs, before taking the plastic-covered dress from the wardrobe, the only garment you’d bothered to hang up.

Unzipping the wrap carefully, you freed your dress, shaking it out to free it of any wrinkles and holding it up before him, a low whistle sounding in appreciation as he reached out two fingers, brushing his knuckles against the cleek and velvety material. Undoing the zipper, you stepped into it with caution, easing your arms into the sleeves and leaving the back hanging open, choosing instead to push your feet into your heels, standing up to your full height before him, showing off the entire outfit.

“What do you think?” You did a little twirl, and he stepped towards you while your back was turned, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder before fasting the dress up for you, spinning you in his arms so that you were face to face.

“You’re beautiful.”

Instead of responding, you leaned into him, your lips meeting his in a chaste kiss. It was just a press of your lips to his, a happy hum on his lips as your mouth worked together in a slow dance, before a knocking at your door and the sounds of the other bridesmaids on the other side prompted you both to pull away, and you cleared your throat, telling them all to go onwards, and that you’d catch up with them in a moment.

“That’s your call.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I should go.” You gaped at him, eyes wide as he took a step back from you, and you instead reached out and took his wrist, pulling his movements to a halt as he looked at you curiously.

“Can I get your number, or something?”

“You already have my number.” He gave you a look as though you were supposed to know what that meant, your eyebrows furrowing and lips closing into a thin line as the tension between you both grew, and he let out a sigh, running a hand over his face. “Just call the same number and ask for me for your next event. I’ll be there.”

“Wait, what?” The cloud of confusion cleared very quickly, and you offered him a gentle smile, stepping into his space and raising a hand up to his cheek, his body a little stiff as he watched you. “I don’t want the club number, I want your number. I want to see you again.”

“But, why?”

His voice cracked a little when he spoke, and you swore your heart did the same, your thumb rubbing over his cheekbone carefully, and he tipped his head just barely in order to lean into your palm a little more, his eyes scanning yours with curiosity. “I was thinking maybe we could go to dinner, or something a little less cheesy. Like, go-karting, or a picnic.”

“Like a date?”

“Is that okay?” It was your turn to be nervous, and he let out a breathless laugh, ducking his head for only a second, before he was wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you into him, burying his face in your hair.

“Yeah, that’s so fucking okay with me.” He pressed a few kisses to your hairline, sighing happily against your skin as he all but sagged into you, clinging to you as you held him tightly. “Girls don’t really want to date me, because of the whole stripper thing. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I really like you.”

“I don’t care what you do for a job, honey. As long as I’m the only one you’re kissing and curling up with at night, you can do whatever you want.”

He pulled away, holding your face in his hands and fixing you with a gaze so intense and deep that you felt your knees go a little weak beneath you. “I promise. I’m really good in relationships, I just haven’t had the chance in so long. I’ll never hurt you, I swear it.”

You could only nod, lips flicking at the corners, and your voice hoarse as you finally managed to mumble out a response; “Kiss me, already.”

He did as told, smiling into the exchange as your mouth pressed together, a dance of their own being choreographed by your hearts, his hands holding your cheeks tightly as your own gripped at any space you could get, his chest, his hips, his back. You were dragging him closer, pulling him into you and holding on tightly.

It wasn’t like the kisses from the night before - hot and frantic and rushed, or like the ones from earlier - longing and anxious and lazy. Instead, it was slow and reassuring and passionate, easing his fears and your own as the two of you simply held onto one another, before your commitments for the day came rushing back, forcing you to snap away and drag a whine from the man before you.

“No, that was good. Let’s keep doing that.”

“Hm, maybe later, baby. I have a wedding to get to. The maid of honour can’t be late!” He sighed lowly, stealing another peck before he was backing off, hands raised as he licked at his lips to gain every bit of your taste, his eyes sweeping over you with admiration. “You know, I still have a plus one to the wedding.”

“Not this late you don’t.” He teased, running his hands over your sides affectionately as you swung your bag up onto your shoulder.

“One quick call to the reception and I’m sure we can squeeze in an extra seat and meal. If you’re interested.. that is?”

“You don’t think it would be weird if you took the stripper from her bachelorette to the party? You don’t think you’ll be judged?” His voice was light, and the slight drip of fear and worry dripping back into his tone, and you’d only just managed to ease that anxiety, before you were lacing your fingers with his and pulling him toward the door of your room.

“To hell with what they think. We’re all that matters.”

“You really are perfect for me.” His words were spoken like a dreamy sigh, and you rolled your eyes with no heat behind the action, closing the door behind you both and leaving the pair of you standing in the hotel halls. You leaned up, brushing your lips to his cheek, and leaving him with a slightly red face and a cheesy grin that he was trying to hide. “Give me your phone.”

You handed him over the device, and he punched in his number, finishing it off with a ridiculous selfie before he was handing it back to you, dragging the tips of his finger over your own when you touched, being sure to drag out even the simple bit of contact.

“Text me the details, kitten, I’ll be there.”

“Can’t wait.”

#Mitch Rapp #Mitch Rapp smut #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp x reader smut #mitch rapp/reader #mitch rapp/reader smut #mitch rapp american assassin #dylan obrien mitch rapp #dylan obrien american assassin #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien au #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien fic #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader smut #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader

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eastertag · 3 years

Text

@willow-salix gift for @gordonthegreatesttracy

The only thing he was aware of was the pain, pain so great it felt like his entire body had been ripped apart and set on fire. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he wasn’t even sure if he was alive or dead.

A world of pain, beyond which nothing else existed.

The heavy weight that had been pounding on his chest stopped, his lungs screamed in protest as he tried to suck air into them, fighting with him.

“I’ve got output!”

“He’s back!”

-x-

THIRTY-SEVEN MINUTES EARLIER

“You’re so lucky!”

“I know,” Gordon grinned, something that had been an almost permanent fixture on his face for the past three days since he’d heard that he, a relative newcomer, had been picked over everyone else. It was such an honour, completely unexpected, but an honour nonetheless.

“How did you even pull it off? Did Daddy throw some cash their way?” Browns teased.

“Ha! You wish that was the reason, then you’d never have to admit that it’s all down to my superior skills and outlandish charm,” Gordon preened as he yanked at the left leg of his dry suit. It was cumbersome, far thicker than he was used to, a complete pain in the ass to drag on, but an essential bit of kit that he would not be allowed out without.

Browns helped him hoist the back up over his shoulders once he got his arms in the holes. Gordon rolled his shoulder, settling the stiff material in place as best he could. He still felt uncomfortable but it sure beat the alternative.

“Five minutes to go!” his commander called through the door. “You almost ready, Tracy?”

“I was born ready, sir.”

“Good lad, then get moving.”

Gordon tried his hardest not to run out of the door, so eager was he to get his butt in that seat. Some people would never understand his excitement, but to him it was a dream come true. He’d seen the way his eldest brother would practically vibrate with excitement whenever he called home and told them all about the latest plane he’d been called in to test drive and, Gordon had to admit, he’d never really understood what all the fuss had been about. Now it was his turn and he knew that he’d be grovelling to Scott in a few hours time, begging his forgiveness for all the times he’d teased him about his latest winged crush. He was just as guilty, except his crush had two sleek and sexy foils propping her out of the water like the majestic queen that she was. And he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

The next five minutes had flown by faster than he could track, people had surrounded him on all sides, all yanking and pushing and prodding him into place. One had helped him climb into the cockpit, carefully navigating so as not to knock his helmet on the metal bars of the reinforced frame that would encase him on both sides. Another had buckled him into his seat, bringing the safety straps down over his shoulders and clipping them into the buckle between his legs. Yet another had double checked the air supply to his suit, just in case.

The Navy hadn’t touched hydrofoils for almost a century after they had been deemed too expensive, too unpredictable and of no real use. Now WASP had taken up the challenge.

The project, codenamed Poiseiden, had seen the designing, building and now the testing of the Sea Skimmer hydrofoil, which looked set to be the next shining gem to come out of the experimental watercraft division.

As long as it worked as it should, there was the potential for it to become a standard vehicle in all branches of WASP before the end of the year, making high speed sea rescues or pursuits all the easier.

“Did you hear me, Tracy?” the engineer to his left asked again, making him jump.

“Yeah, sorry,” Gordon winced, cursing his lack of attention.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?”

“I’m good, I swear. I was just running a mental checklist and didn’t hear you the first time,” he lied smoothly, refusing to admit that he had been picturing the glory that he’d get from this once the programme was rolled out across the board. This was a career making opportunity and he couldn’t afford to blow it.

“Good,” the man patted the top of Gordon’s helmet affectionately, before bellowing over his shoulder; “Team, roll out!”

The flock of people that had been buzzing around the craft melted away, each person having already completed their specific task or moving to prepare for it, leaving Gordon alone.

His gloved hands flexed on the controls, impatient to get going. The silence around him was broken by the crackle of the radio then the unmistakable sound of a countdown. Thirty seconds to go...twenty...ten...five…

The second clearance was given he was off, easing the boat out of its covered dock and out into WASP’s test harbour. Once he was clear of the floating observation platforms he opened her up, moving her in a graceful figure eight, just letting her glide through the water as he got a feel for the way she handled while gradually increasing speed.

He was five miles per hour off the predicted speed when he felt the first hint of lift, the very thing he had been waiting for. He straightened out, deviating from his previous path to that of a straight line before pushing the throttle a little more.

As her speed increased so did the lift, the foils doing their job perfectly, raising her hull out of the water, the foils beginning to skim just as they were supposed to. He couldn't help the little woop of excitement that escaped as the bow kept lifting higher and higher. It was only bloody working!

“You’re doing great, Tracy,” the voice over the radio said. “How does she feel?”

“Great, just great,” Gordon replied. “She’s handling like a dream, a little twitchy but nothing terrible. I can feel every little move that the water makes but not like a normal boat, more like when you’re surfing. She’s not plowing through the water, she’s skimming it just as she’s supposed to.”

“How much more can she take?”

Gordon glanced down at the speedometer, registering that she was already at just over two hundred miles per hour.

“Nothing in here, I'd need to take her to the open water.”

“Affirmative, carry on.”

Grinning widely, Gordon steered her straight for the opening that led to the stretch of ocean that was permanently closed to all marine traffic within a hundred and fifty square miles. He heard the safety boat following somewhere behind him but ignored it, they were professionals and would know to keep out of his way, he just had to concentrate on his own driving.

Once he was clear he pushed the throttle forward easing into the last third, ready to push her to her max. He watched as the speedometer readouts climbed ever higher, ten miles, twenty, thirty, she kept going, lifting higher and higher out of the water. He wasn't just feeling it, he could see it, the angle of the horizon line ahead of him changing before his eyes.

“Give her all she’s got, Tracy,” his commander encouraged and Gordon was only too happy to comply. It felt amazing, she was gliding, almost effortlessly, barely skimming the surface of the water as her sleek, aerodynamic foils sliced through all resistance like a hot knife through butter.

“Yes, sir!”

He pushed the throttle forward that last few millimeters until it could go no more. The engines roared their approval as the numbers continued to tick over edging ever closer to that elusive three hundred mark…

“Yes!” he screamed in triumph as the two rolled into a three.

“Well done, Tracy!” the voice over the radio praised. “How does she feel?”

“Like she’s standing still,” Gordon enthused. “It’s effortless, I can barely feel her moving at all. Smooth as silk.”

“Give her one last go around and then start easing back into port.”

“Got it,” Gordon confirmed, moving to do just that.

What happened next was both too quick to register but also felt like it was happening in slow motion. His hand gripped the throttle, starting to ease it back in order to begin deceleration, meaning to execute a large sweeping curve to bring her back around to face port. The handle, which should have moved back as easily as it had moved forward, stayed exactly where it was.

The hydrofil was already coming into the turn and her nose lifted even further, suspending her almost bolt upright for a split second before she left the water completely, shooting up into the air.

She cartwheeled through the air, end over end for three full turns before she came crashing face down into the water. Somewhere during the second tumble Gordon had managed to locate and press the button on the side of the steering wheel that activated the emergency ejector seat.

He felt the side of his helmet crack against the crumple cage, making his brain rattle in his skull as darkness overcame him.

“Move! Move! Move!” Commander Jennings bellowed as the safety boat he was on rushed to the scene. He could see the pilots seat in the distance, floating in the ocean not far from the wrecked craft.

His instruments and readouts told him that the safety valves in Gordon’s dry suit had opened, meaning that the suit’s sensors had detected enough ejection force to initiate the rush of air that would fill the suit, acting as both a cushion and a stabilizing force to protect his body as it crashed into the sea like a rag doll.

The sensors also told him that Gordon was not breathing.

They reached his side in less than a minute, paramedic divers already throwing themselves overboard to reach him before they had come to a complete stop.

They turned him over, finding a deep crack in his helmet that extended to the visor which was letting in water, filling up the space his head currently occupied. They flipped open the visor, letting the majority of the water drain away, but the hoped for breath was never heard.

A hover stretcher appeared beside them as they released his safety harness and dragged him to the board. He was strapped down and hauled into the boat as quickly as possible.

The second he was aboard they wasted no time in releasing the safety catch on his helmet and removing it as carefully as possible. They knew that they were risking further damage to his neck or spine, its current condition unknown, but getting him breathing was their top priority.

Working in tandem one started rhythmic chest compressions, trying to force the water out of his lungs and air down into them. On the count of thirty the paramedic stopped allowing his partner to seal her mouth over Gordon’s pushing two breaths into his lungs. They waited a beat, eyes searching for any kind of response while another of the team held the medscanner over him, waiting for the verdict. Nothing.

“Keep going, I’ll get this tube in him,” another ordered as they continued to work. Two rounds of chest compressions and mouth to mouth were completed as they readied the tube, chest compressions continuing as it was inserted.

They worked solidly for more than three minutes until finally, blessedly, the medscanner registered the faintest flicker of life. But it was enough.

-x-

The nurse hadn’t expected the sheer number of people that surged through the doors of her emergency room, all yelling one name and demanding to know what was going on, where he was, to be taken to him, to see his medical records and to talk to his doctor RIGHT THIS MINUTE.

“You can’t all be in here,” she started, trying to instill some kind of order into the chaos that was now clustered around the receptionist, who was blinking like a deer in headlights, unable to form words, her eyes darting from one to the other, trying to decide who to answer first.

“Are you in charge here?” the tallest man demanded to know, his eyes flicking from her face to her name tag, Senior Nurse Sophie Gardner.

“I am,” she stated calmly, crossing her arms to show she meant business. She’d been on the receiving end of a large number of distressed family members and knew that they would pounce on her the second she showed even the slightest hint of weakness.

“Who are you here to see?”

“Gordon Tracy, he was brought in by air around 90 minutes ago,” Scott told her, trying his hardest not to snap.

“And you are?”

“His brother.”

“And the rest? It’s close family only, no friends allowed.”

“His brothers and our grandmother,” Scott answered, daring her to argue.

“All of you are family?”

“Yes! What do you need ID now?” Scott snapped, rapidly losing patience.

“Can we see my grandson now, please?” Sally asked, inserting herself in front of Scott and into the conversation.

“Let me just look him up,” Sophie said, moving to the computer to pull up his file. She remembered the state of him when they had brought him in, she had only just come on shift but had been there to do the handover.

An air ambulance had arrived, landing on the helipad on the roof and he had immediately been rushed through her department, barely giving them time to complete the minimum of observations and take notes before he had been whisked away again. It wasn’t unusual, they were one of the most advanced military hospitals in the country, they were used to life or death cases.

She could picture him, lying on the stretcher, strapped to a board, his uniform suit cut to ribbons both from scissors and from whatever had happened to him to cause so much damage. He was instantly fast tracked through her department and rushed on to the surgical team for scans and treatment.

Now Sophie was faced with his scared and demanding family and it looked like it would be falling to her to deliver some of the bad news.

“He’s being prepped for surgery, he might even be in by now. The full extent of his injuries aren’t known but I can promise you we’re doing our best.”

“When can we see him?” Virgil asked, butting in for the first time, leaving John to continue texting Kayo who had stayed behind with Alan. Alan had not been happy with that decision, but the others had stood firm. They didn’t know what they were going to find when they got there, what state their brother would be in and the youngest didn’t need to see anything that would be hard for him to forget. Scott had tried to impose the same restriction on Sally but had quickly given up, knowing it had been a lost cause before he had even started.

“When he’s out of surgery and stable,” Sophie replied kindly, knowing that they didn’t mean to be so forceful and demanding, she wasn’t going to take it personally just yet. “If you’ll all follow me I’ll take you to the relatives room where you can wait for news, I’ll let the surgeons know that you’re here but I’m afraid you might be in for a long wait.”

“Waiting won’t be a problem,” Scott assured her as they stalked down the corridor after her.

It was a silent party that sat in that room all night long, sat for more than nine hours as their little brother underwent one gruelling surgery after another, the first of many trips into the theater that he would undergo over the next few days, or so they had been told.

The member of the surgical team, who had been called in to talk to them, had been kind and very sympathetic as he had delivered the crushing news, revealing the full extent of Grodon’s injuries. Each one more horrific than the last.

The immediate concern was his ruptured spleen, lacerated liver, punctured lung and depressed skull fracture. The plan was, if the current surgeries he was undergoing went well, to keep him in a medically induced coma as soon as he was out of surgery, give his body at least 24 hours to rest and strengthen before taking him back in to deal with the numerous fractures he had sustained.

Among those fractures were a broken nose, broken arm, a fractured wrist, a broken leg, fractured pelvis, numerous broken ribs and, most worrying of all was the two cracked vertebrae in his neck, two herniated discs and the pulled muscles that went along with them.

If the operations to fix and stabilize those broken bones went well, then he would be passed to the cosmetic surgery team who would do what they could for the deep lacerations that littered his skin, friction burns and the removal of any foreign objects that had entered his body due to flying shrapnel.

The nurse had kindly sent a porter in with hot drinks and sandwiches for them once the doctor had left but they remained untouched, none of them able to stomach the thought of eating. All they could do was watch the clock, counting down the minutes and, for some, praying to anyone they thought would listen. They bargained, they made promises, everything that could possibly help.

They had lost too many people in their family already, their grandfather and mother on the same day, their mothers parents a few years later and then, most recently, their father. The thought of losing another person, one so integral to their lives, was too horrible to even contemplate.

“He’ll be fine,” Scott said out loud, feeling the need to break the silence, knowing exactly what his family were thinking because he’d undoubtedly been having the same thoughts. “It’s Gordon, nothing keeps him down for long.”

“He’s made it this far,” John agreed. “I saw the report on the hydrofoil and-”

“Wait, how did you see that?” Virgil asked, happy to be distracted.

“I...well...I have my ways,” John stammered, his face slightly flushed, refusing to look at them.

“John?” Scott’s tone said it all.

John sighed defeately. “I wanted to know exactly what happened, I might have hacked into the accident report that WASP submitted an hour ago.”

“I can’t believe you did that!” Virgil groaned. Honestly, John was supposed to be the brother that he didn’t worry about, because it obviously wasn’t Gordon or Scott.

“I can,” Scott said, glaring at his younger brother who stared right back, undeterred by the look that had had many a young air force recruit shaking at the knees.

“Are you telling me you don’t want to read it?” John asked innocently, waving his phone temptingly in his brother's direction.

“No, of course not, that’s highly illegal and-”

John wiggled the phone one last time.

“Give it here,” Scott growled, leaning over to snatch the phone. “Just to see if there is anything we can blame them for.”

“Of course,” John agreed placidly. “That was the only reason I looked.”

Virgil tried to hold in the small snort of laughter that bubbled up, feeling that it would be highly inappropriate, but his grandmother caught his eye, smiling softly.

Sally reached for one of the now cold cups of coffee that had been provided and, as always taking their cues from her, Virgil did the same.

“Eat up, boys,” Sally instructed, nodding to the plates of sandwiches. “When that boy comes through, and I’ve no doubt that he will, he’s going to need our strength. He’ll have a lot to deal with and we’re going to be there for him.”

“Yes, Grandma,” they agreed, dutifully reaching for a sandwich each. She was right, their brother was a fighter, he was a Tracy after all, there was no way on this earth or beyond that he would let something like this take him out.

-x-

The first thing Gordon noticed when he regained consciousness was the fact that his mouth was so dry his tongue felt like the inside of a hamster cage and he couldn’t seem to work up any spit. He concentrated hard and tried to swallow a couple of times but something was stopping him.

He tried to lift his arm to touch his mouth but that one tiny movement was enough to wake up his body as well as his mind. Pain the likes of which he had never felt before engulfed him from head to toe, not one part of him seemed to be free of it. Even his eyeballs hurt. He couldn’t help the little whimper that escaped his nose and, when he tried to speak, to call out for any kind of help at all, he was once again hampered.

“Hey, hey, you’re OK, just calm down for a second, let me get a doctor,” someone said, their voice soothing and gentle, as was the cool hand they placed on his forehead. A buzzer sounded somewhere nearby and he forced his eyes open to see what was happening.

“Try not to talk or move,” said a new voice that was accompanied by a blurry face. “You were in an accident and you’re in hospital. You’ve been through a lot but you’re responding really well, you’ve got a breathing tube but your lungs seem to be working fine so just sit tight for a few minutes and we’ll see about getting that out for you.”

Gordon allowed himself to relax as best he could as the first person to have spoken returned.

“Are you feeling any pain?”

He nodded as best he could with what felt like a neck brace holding him still and even that little movement hurt. How could something as simple as moving his head take so much energy? How could it be such an effort?

“I’ll just give your epidural a little top up, you’ll soon feel better. We had to reduce your medication a little to bring you round and it's always a bit of a balancing act to get the right amount to keep someone comfortable.”

He, Gordon could tell it was a male now, was as good as his word and soon the aching in his body dulled from a screaming roar to a low rumble, far more manageable than it had been before.

“I’m Doctor Clark,” another new voice announced, introducing himself. “I was your surgeon and I’m here to see about getting that tube out of you, but I need to just check you over first, is that alright? Don’t try to nod, just lift your hand or even a finger if that’s all you can do.”

Gordon tried to nod anyway but gave up and commanded his right hand to move, finding it a little easier now that he could barely feel it. The doctor could do whatever he needed to, as long as he got that damn tube out of him and let him have a drink.

Dr Clark checked the readouts, made him breathe deeply a number of times, listened to his chest and, after attaching a suction device to the end of his tube, made him cough a few times to clear his lungs, then listened to his chest again.

“OK, you’re sounding good, can you just open your mouth for me?”

Gordon did as he was told and the doctor suctioned away with little moisture he’d managed to produce with his coughing, cut away the tape holding the tube in place and took hold of the end.

“I’m just going to deflate the air cuff inside, you might feel a small easing of pressure but don’t worry if you can’t.”

Gordon felt nothing but assumed that the doctor had done as he said he would.

“I need you to take two deep breaths for me and then when I tell you, I need you to give me a couple of good coughs, can you do that?”

Gordon attempted a thumbs up as nodding or moving his head much was making him dizzy, but he couldn’t move enough to do so and had to settle for just a brief one finger lift.

“Alright, deep breaths, one...and two...and now cough, nice big cough…”

As Gordon coughed the doctor tugged gently on the tube. He felt it slide up his throat, hitting his tonsils on the way out, making him gag and cough as he fought to keep calm.

“All done,” the doctor praised, and immediately an oxygen mask was slapped over his nose and mouth, easing his breathing just a little. “You did good, how do you feel?”

Gordon tried to swallow, to speak but his throat felt like it was on fire and all he could do was croak.

“Mouth dry?”

He coughed again, wincing at the pain in his throat.

“We can’t let you drink yet, but we can try to make you a little more comfortable.”

The nurse took his mask off again and inserted something wet into his mouth which she swirled around, coating the inside of his mouth. It felt horrible, like a wet slug rolling around in there, but it at least gave his parched tongue a little relief, although it was nowhere near enough.

“What happened?” he rasped after clearing his throat a few times and drinking a little more.

“You’ve been in an accident, but you’re safe now,” Dr Clark told him.

Gordon frowned, although the action made his head hurt. “Was I...mission?” He must have been doing something, there was no way he could have any kind of accident of this magnitude on his island home with his family present… his thoughts skidded to a halt.

“Family?” he managed to whisper, his eyes darting around the room. Had something happened to them? Had they been in a plane somewhere?

“They are all in the relatives room, waiting for you to wake up,” the nurse told him.

“They...OK?”

“Yes, they weren’t involved,” the nurse answered, obviously used to the way that patients' minds could work. Gordon closed his eyes, relaxing now that he knew his family were safe. That meant that he must have been doing something with his unit.

“Team?” he rasped.

“I’m sorry?” the nurse obviously couldn’t decipher that one.

“My team...hurt?”

“Oh, no, it was just you.”

That gave him a little peace of mind, knowing that no one else had been hurt, but that still begged the question of what the hell had he been up to?

“What happened...to me?

“Some kind of boat crash,” Dr Clark explained, looking up from the notes he was adding to the tablet at the end of his bed. “I didn’t ask too many details, I just got to work. I patch up people, not machinery.”

“Boat?”

“Yes,” the doctor nodded. “I hear your family are rather anxious to see you, would you feel up to seeing one of them?”

Gordon nodded as hard as he was able, even though he’d been told not to. There was nothing he wanted more in the world than to see a familiar face.

-x-

“He’s awake,” the nurse told the waiting Tracys who had become an almost permanent fixture in the relatives room over the last ten days. Sometimes there would be just one of them, more often than not only two, but now there were six of them waiting with baited breath to find out the news.

A sigh of relief rippled around the room as they all let out the breaths they had been holding.

“Can we see him?”

“Is he talking?”

“Does he remember anything?”

The questions came thick and fast as they often did. Grace had gotten used to one or more of them popping up without any notice and demanding information. They had managed to pull some major strings and gotten hold of his medical records, how she did not know, and had sat there poring over them until they knew as much about his case and treatment as she did. The grandmother, it transpired, was a retired surgeon that still kept her hand in now and then, and so she had taken it upon herself to pelt them with questions on an hourly basis when she was there.

“Yes, you can see him,” Grace started, picking the easiest question to answer, clearing her throat to get their attention back when they broke out in excited chattering. “But only one at a time. He’s been through an ordeal and he’s not strong enough to deal with too much excitement.”

“Only one?” Virgil asked.

“Yes, just one,” Grace insisted, giving them that look they referred to as her matron glare.

They argued back and forth for a few moments, something she’d noticed they did a lot, before coming to their decision.

Grace led Mrs Tracy into the private room where her Grandson rested. In the brief time that she had been gone it seemed that Gordon had drifted off to sleep again, something that would happen quite often over the next few days as his body rested and the drugs that were keeping him pain free did their job.

“I’ll just sit here and wait,” Sally told Grace, using the same no nonsense tone that Grace herself used with difficult patients and she knew it would be useless to argue.

“I’ll get you a chair,” Grace said, giving in gracefully.

“Thank you, dear.”

-x-

Gordon didn’t know how long he’d slept for, or if he’d even slept at all. His mind was fuzzier than his first hangover and he had no clue if it was night or day. There were no curtains open in the room he was in, no hint of an outside world, just the clinical bleakness of the white ceiling and the ever present beeping of the machines monitoring him.

Thankfully he was still floating on a blissfully cloud of oblivion, feeling detached from every part of his body, like it didn’t even belong to him. He coughed to clear his throat, his mouth feeling ever so dry once again.

He tried to turn his head, to lift his arm to reach for the glass of wet swabs that had been there earlier, but another hand beat him to it, it’s arm encased in a familiar purple velour fabric.

“Gr-grandma?”

“Right here, son” she said softly, aware that he might not appreciate her speaking too loudly. She nodded for him to open his mouth and with practiced ease, swirled his weird water lollipop around his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

“Better?” she asked. “Had enough for now?” Seeing his small nod she set the glass aside and turned back to face him. “You had us all very worried, young man.”

“Sorry,” he rasped, wincing when it hurt his throat. “What...ha-happened? They said...boat.”

“You don’t remember? Nothing at all?”

“No.”

“You were test driving the new hydrofoil for the experiential watercrafts division.”

“I was?” he paused to cough, the action pulling at his chest, a sharp stabbing pain shooting through him from his ribs and abused lung. “Guess I didn’t do too well with it, huh?”

“I’m sure it wasn’t anything you did,” she assured him.

“How long was I out?” he asked. The more he was talking the easier it was getting, although his throat still felt like he’d been swallowing razor blades. He must have been asleep a good few hours to feel this weak and woosey.

Sally took a deep breath before delivering the news. “Sweetheart, you were in a coma for ten days.”

Gordon blinked, unable to fully comprehend what she had just said.

“Ten...ten days?” How badly had he been hurt? He tried to lift his head, tried to look down at his body to assess the damage. A gentle hand on his chest stopped him from straining too much, but not before he registered the fact that both of his arms were in casts, so too was his leg and, now that he wiggled, he could feel something like a large stiff belt around his stomach and between his legs. His eyes widened in shock, his eyes darting down to his midsection, his face turning white with fright when he saw the bandages. Had...had something happened to little Gordon? Oh God, please say no!

“How bad?” he demanded to know and, although his voice was shaking, Sally knew he needed to hear the truth. Knowing it would be better coming from her she didn’t mince her words, quickly and clinically rattling off his list of injuries and the treatments he’d had so far.

“Quick bone fusion for the right arm, left wrist and left leg. They reset your nose at the same time. Your pelvis wasn’t as badly damaged as they had feared and didn’t need pinning, just a little lasering, though it is immobilised for no-”

“Just my pelvis? Nothing...else?” he winced, not wanting to talk about such things to his grandma but needing to know all the same.

“Just your pelvis,” she assured him with a knowing smile.

“What else?” he asked, breathing a sigh of relief at the news that he was still whole...down stairs.

“They repaired the torn ligaments in your shoulder, have immobilised your neck due to two cervical fractures of the vertebrae-”

“That’s not...I’m not...can I walk?” he tried to wiggle his toes and thought he felt movement but he couldn’t see to be sure.

“It’s not paralysing, no. No damage from that at all.”

“What else?”

“Apart from the fractures you’ve got two herniated discs and pulled muscles there too.”

Gordon gestured with one finger for her to continue.

“You’ve got a number of cracked ribs from the CPR-”

“CPR?”

“You hit the water face down, from what we were told it was due to your helmet filling up from a crack in the visor.”

“So I basically drowned out there?”

Sally nodded, keeping her eyes focused on his. With anyone else she would have fudged a little, maybe broken it to them a little more gently and eased them in. But Gordon was, first and foremost, a Tracy, and they liked the facts, all of them, because that made it easier to fight back. And she had zero doubts that he would do just that.

Gordon took a deep breath trying to wrap his head around all the information she was laying out for him. He’d taken it all in so far, like it was happening to someone else, but that, the knowledge that he could have lost his life to the thing he loved most, the sea...well that was just too hard to think about.

“And the rest?” he asked, wanting to know all there was, no nasty surprises in his future.

“Depressed skull fracture, fractured eye socket that will heal on its own, punctured lung from your ribs and the CPR, a particle splenectomy from a reputed spleen and a repaired liver laceration. You’ve also had a number of stautures and some skin grafts already but I’m afraid you might still need more.”

“Is that all? One more stamp and I could have gotten a free cup of coffee.”

Sally didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry when he made such a bad, but totally Gordon, attempt at a joke. There had been a moment, during that long, long first day of his accident, that she had honestly thought that she might never hear his voice again, let alone have him cracking a joke less than four hours after waking from a coma. It was more than she had ever dared to dream but she knew from experience that, when it came to her grandsons, nothing was impossible.

A noise near the door made them both glance over. The sight of Scott’s face pressed against the window greeted them.

“I guess I’m popular today.”

“Yeah, I guess you are,” Sally agreed. “I could do with stretching my legs, so I’ll let him in. He's been waiting a long time.”

-x-

A steady stream of family trickled in one after the other to see their miracle sibling, but soon he was yawning, dropping off midconversation and when the nurses had their shift change the Tracys were ushered out and told to come back the next day.

Now he was sitting there, alone, unable to get up, unable to do anything to amuse himself, left alone with his thoughts. As was so often the way, he’d been tired and napping on and off while his family had been there, but the moment they had left he’d developed some kind of second wind energy rush and was now wide awake.

He tried closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep, he’d tried counting sky squids like his mother had told him to do as a child, he’d tried thinking about the most boring of Brains’ lectures, but nothing had worked.

Everytime he tried to focus on boring things or to clear his mind in order to relax, his brain insisted on replaying back the information that Grandma had given him.

He wasn’t an idiot, he knew that he was lucky to even be alive after a wreck like he’d had. He’d forced John and Scott, against their better judgement, to tell him all they knew about the accident. He’d needed to know. He needed it to try to remember exactly what it was that had happened to him and how it had gone so wrong.

The lack of memories was disturbing, to know that something had gone wrong, horrendously wrong but to have no recollection of it, it was beyond frustrating. He had a body that was effectively broken, one that, according to his doctor, would take upwards of a year to fully heal from, if such a thing was even possible. He’d been warned, as had they all, that the likelihood of him having complications was all too real and that he had better prepare himself for it.

It wasn’t just the things that he had been told and the prospect of months of painful rehabilitation that was weighing heavily on his mind, it was the thing that no one had spoken of. It was the fact that he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his career, the one that he had worked so hard to achieve, would be over.

Oh, he’d get an honourable discharge on medical grounds. But he'd be leaving in a whisper rather than the blaze of glory that his father and then his brother had done before him. He’d been on track for greatness, just as they had. He’d been the stand out star of his recruitment year, his olympic training and subsequent fitness levels and endurance had given him a fantastic platform from which to dive in with. He’d quickly risen up the ranks, making a name for himself as one of youngest but brightest in his class.

His desire to learn as well as his passion for marine biology and conservation had led to him taking a slightly different path to his fellow recruits. Many had passed on the offer, thinking it too boring but he had jumped at the chance to spend a year in command of his own bathescape studying underwater farming methods with a small but dedicated crew that had quickly become like family to him.

Any emergency at that depth could have the potential to turn into a matter of life or death and, when one of their generators had malfunctioned, taking along with it half their air filtration works, putting strain on the remaining one, they had found themselves plunged into just such a situation.

He’d had to think fast and stay calm. They had pulled up the schematics and managed to bypass the fault on a temporary basis while waiting for a supply of spare parts to be delivered. He had led his team well, he had kept them from panicking and kept the mission on track. And, in doing so, saved the research grant budget the expense of failing and having to surface to try again the next year when the migration season started again.

His determination, dedication, resourcefulness and persistence had been noted, along with his ability to stay calm under pressure. It had gained him a promotion and fast tracked his offer to join the team on the experimental watercraft division, something he’d always dreamed of.

Now it seemed that that dream had well and truly come back to bite him on the ass in the form of the hydrofoil that had apparently just wrecked all his hopes for the future in one fell swoop. What was the point of anything anymore?

A wave of hopelessness washed over him like a tidal wave, stealing his breath and the last of his control. The brave face he’d been holding on to all day while in the presence of his family faded away, giving way to heartbroken tears.

“Why?” he asked out loud to no one in particular, was he talking to God, to whatever guardian angel that had been by his side that day or to whatever sick twisted fate it was that had chosen him to pick on. “Why did you let me live?”

-x-

“It’s been a week and he’s barely made any progress,” Scott sighed to John as they walked the short distance to Gordon’s room in the recovery wing from the roof where they had been given permission to land.

They were the ones on shift for today's stint of what they were all secretly calling ‘Squid Watch’. Now that he was out of immediate danger they had given up the hotel rooms they had occupied for the first two weeks and had begun commuting from the island for the designated visiting hours. They had learnt that the freedom to come and go as they pleased and to stay for long portions of the day had gone once Gordon had been moved from the ICU to the more cheerful surrounds of the high dependency ward.

“Still?”

Scott nodded. “Nurse Donna told Virgil that he was barely eating, just enough to stave off the threat of another tube down his nose, he hasn’t even attempted any of the bed bound exercises he’s been given and he’s refusing to see the Physio to discuss his long term plans.”

“Stubborn brat,” John huffed.

“Well, he is a Tracy,” Scott shrugged, unable to do much else. “You know that nothing can make us do something we don’t want to.”

“Then we have to make him want to,” John replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah, right,” Scott scoffed. “We’ll just walk right on in as normal and say ‘Hey, Gordo, we know that your life as you knew it is basically over but hey, you’re still here. I mean, you can’t do anything you want to and you’re stuck in that bed for God knows how long but eat up your greens, there’s a good boy.’ That’ll go down real well.”

“Obviously we won’t say that,” John scowled, his tone telling Scott that he was being as much of an idiot as Gordon at that moment in time. “It’s obvious that he’s lost his drive, he’s feeling hopeless, which is perfectly understandable.”

“Yes,” Scott sighed, “it is.”

“So we need to give him something to bring him hope, something to work hard for.”

“You’d think the thought of walking again would be enough for him.”

“Would it be for you?” John asked quietly. “Think about it. If you had crashed one of those jets you tested, and you had ended up as hurt as he is, or worse, and you were looking down a long tunnel to an unknown future, one that very likely, won’t match up to the one you had mapped out in your head, would you have any desire to move towards it?”

Scott opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again without speaking. He wanted to say yes, of course he would, because any future was better than not having one. But he tried hard to never lie to himself or his family.

“Probably not,” he admitted quietly. It was true, if he had crashed and was facing the prospect of never flying again, of never seeing the ground vanishing beneath him as he soared up through the clouds into a brilliant blue sky, he would find it hard to accept it and carry on.

“So we need to show him what he’s missing,” John continued. “I think we need to show him the Silverfin.”

Scott sucked in a breath, letting it out through pursed lips in a long whistle.

“That's risky.”

“I know.”

“It could seriously backfire, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware of that fact, yes.”

“Because if he sees it, if he listens to our plans and then ends up unable to join in as he’d want, that could make things even worse for him.”

“I know. But, as you just said, he’s a Tracy.”

“It could be the push he needs,” Scott conceded.

“It will be the push he needs,” John promised. “We know him, we know that he can do anything he puts his mind to.”

“He’s stronger than he thinks,” Scott agreed. “Stronger than any of us give him credit for. Look at how much he’s achieved in what, just over two years in WASP? He’s done more in his career than many could ever dream of let alone hope to achieve.”

“He has,” John started walking again and Scott had no choice but to follow along or get left behind. You didn’t argue with John when he was on a mission.

“You heard Grandma, this is the most crucial part of his recovery,”John continued, assuming correctly that Scott would keep up with him. “The first steps. This is make or break time. His injuries are severe, yes, but not hopeless, not by a long shot. People have recovered from worse, he just needs to push himself to do it. It doesn’t matter how well they put him back together if he doesn’t work on holding it all in place.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I usually am,” John shrugged, no hint of boasting in his tone, just John saying the facts as he saw them.

“Yeah, right,” Scott laughed, because he was his brother and everyone knew that you didn’t ever admit to your younger siblings being right more than once in a week if you could help it. “We’re really going to do this?”

“I don’t see that we have a choice.”

Gordon was lying down in bed when they walked in, not too unexpected given the circumstances, it wasn’t like they had been expecting to see him doing much at all, but they had hoped he’d at least be sitting up since the doctor’s had cleared him for gentle movements.

“Hey, Squid boy,” Scott greeted as cheerfully as he could. “How you doing today?”

“Oh, I’m just peachy, I took a little trip to the beach, caught some waves and then I decided I needed a nap,” Gordon drawled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “What are you two doing here, anyway?”

“We told you we’d be coming,” John answered, picking up the tablet from its holder at the end of Gordon’s bed to study it.

“And I told you not to brother, it’s not like I’m the most entertaining company at the moment and I don’t feel like having visitors,” Gordon closed his eyes again, intending on ignoring them until they went away.

“Have you eaten much today?” Scott asked, ignoring his brother’s blatant dismissal of them.

“Yes.”

“It says here you refused breakfast, you only had a yogurt for lunch and didn’t complete your order form for your evening meal,” John told him, while busily flicking through the notes.

“Hey!” Gordon opened his eyes again to glare at his brother. “Do you mind? That’s my private medical records, it’s none of your business.”

“Of course it is.” John finished his reading and returned the tablet to its rightful spot.

“Gordo, you have to eat,” Scott sighed, sinking into one of the visitor's chairs that sat beside the bed. “How can you expect to get your strength back if you aren’t fueling your body properly?”

“It’s not like I could do anything with the strength if I had it,” Gordon growled out. “I’m stuck in this bed for the foreseeable future. So tell me, oh great and powerful, Scott, just what do I need to do anything for?”

John glanced at Scott, who nodded, answering the unspoken question. Time to enact their plan. He shrugged off his backpack and opened it, pulling out his tablet. With a few quick swipes he found what he was looking for and held it up for Gordon to see.

“What’s that?”

“Our secret project,” Scott told him.

“I can’t see it from there, bring it closer.”

“No,” John stayed right where he was at the foot of the bed. “Sit up and look for yourself.”

Gordon huffed and stubbornly stayed horizontal, but his eyes kept straying to the tablet. He could barely see it, but what he could see looked vaguely familiar. Curiosity and just a touch of boredom won out.

He fumbled with the bed controls, located the remote and pushed the button to lift the head of the bed until he was brought to a sitting position.

“There, happy? Now let me see it.”

John moved closer and offered the tablet.

Gordon automatically reached out for it with his left hand, forgetting that it was encased in an air cast due to the fractured wrist. Growling in frustration he tried again with the right and took the tablet. Unable to hold it with only one hand he lifted his ‘good’ leg which, although unbroken, was covered in bruising, none of which made it an easy task but eventually he was able to prop the tablet against his thigh and scroll with his right hand.

His eyes widened as he took in the images displayed there.

“This is a Silverfin, isn't it?”

“Yep,” Scott grinned.

“But WASP didn’t continue the development, they deemed them too small and slow to be of any use and decided to focus on the Stingray.”

“We know, but Brains saw the potential in her that they didn’t. She might not have been of any use for patrolling the seas but for moving around them like we’d need, she’d be perfect.”

“He’s adapting her?” Gordon’s eyes scanned the pictures, the first one showing the Silverfin in her original form, half completed and scrapped, the funding and enthusiasm for her having dried up. The second showed her to clearly be in some kind of dry dock that was being used as a workshop. She’d been stripped back to little more than a shell, some engine parts and a turbine or two. The third and last pictures showed what looked to be new panels being test fitted and an adapted nose cone. Instead of the elongated nose she’d had originally there sat the cutest little snub nose he’d ever seen, reminding him of an upturned pigs snout.

"With Virgil's help, yes," John said.

"Why? Has he decided to branch out into contract work now that the work on the space station is almost complete?"

"Nope," John answered.

“Then what's this for?” he couldn’t help but ask, his eyes feasting on every little detail he could see. She was barely anything at the moment, but damn she could be beautiful if she was given the love and attention she had always deserved.

“For you,” Scott said quietly. John had been right, the way that Gordon had gone from apathy to interest in a matter of seconds was proof of that.

“Me?” Gordon scoffed. Even though his brother's tone had been completely serious he still couldn't believe it wasn't some kind of sick joke. “You’d need a pretty big bathtub to float her in, because that's the only kind of boat I’ll ever be around again.”

“With that attitude it will,” John said mildly, taking the second seat next to Scott.

“So do something about it,” Scott pushed. “Look at her, just look.” He stabbed a finger at the screen. “That there will be the next in our fleet, and she’ll need a pilot.”

“Me? You seriously think I’d ever be able to do anything like that, while I’m like this? You’re crazy.” Gordon pushed the tablet away, not wanting to look at it any more. That was the unobtainable right there. That was yet another reminder of what could have been but never would.

“No, not while you’re like that,” Scott sighed, sounding defeated even to his own ears.

“So do something about it,” John said curtly. “It’s your choice, we're just hoping you make the right one.” Without saying anything else he took the tablet and placed it on the bedside table. “Come on, Scott, let’s go and get a coffee before we head home.”

Scott looked from Gordon to John, taking in the frustration and sadness on one and then the calm dismissive demeanor of the other as John turned to the door.

"I told you it wasn't worth you coming," Gordon sneered, lowering the bed again.

"You're always worth it," Scott promised him before following John out the door.

The fast food restaurant just offsite wasn't the best and the coffee was far below their usual standards but it was welcome after the day they had had.

Scott and Virgil had been called out early in the morning and their relatively simple rescue had turned out to be far more complicated than they had anticipated. When they had returned they were tired, filthy and aching all over. Scott had come straight from the shower, leaving Kayo on call with Virgil, and he and John had left for the hospital.

Now their attempts at motivating their little brother had fallen flatter than one of Grandma's cakes and they were both feeling like they had done more harm than good.

"Did we just screw up?" Scott asked quietly, playing with the rim of his cup but not making any move to drink from it.

"Possibly," John sighed, sipping his own drink and making a face at the taste. "Only time will tell. We've done our best, it's up to him now. He's the only one that can decide if he's going to fight or give up entirely."

They lapsed into silence, both lost in their own thoughts. It had been so hard the first time they had walked in to see Gordon after his first life saving operation. His face had been a puffy, bruised mess from his broken nose and fractured eye socket, his eyes almost swollen shut.

He'd had a bandage around his head where they had shaved off some of his hair to examine his skull fracture and close the wound there. Both of his arms and one of his legs in air casts to keep them stable until the next day and his torso a mass of bandages and blood tinged gauze from a combination of lacerations and the two operation sites from fixing his spleen and liver.

He'd looked so small, not in stature maybe, but in energy, his aura if you will. So still and so quiet, something that Gordon only ever was when he was asleep, and that didn't happen very often with his tendency of mumbling in his sleep and turning a full rotation of the bed in a single night.

Then he had been silent, the only sound was the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the whoosh, hiss of the machine that was providing him with oxygen and regulating his breathing as he slept the deep sleep of the heavily sedated.

Over the next few days they had sat in the relatives room and prayed every time his tired body had undergone yet another operation, the surgeons doing all they could to fix his body for him.

Now they were hoping and praying that his mind could be fixed too.

"What was that?" Scott said when a beep broke the quiet, clearly looking for a distraction.

"My phone," John answered, pulling it out to check it.

"Who is it?" Scott asked, seeing the confused expression on his brother's face.

"I apparently sent myself an email."

"Huh?"

The confusion quickly morphed into a wide smile as John's eyes scanned the words.

"It was sent from my tablet."

"And?"

"It reads 'Bring me up a burger and fries when you've finished your coffees, then you can tell me more about this Silverfin."

-x-

The walk down to the hangars had never seemed to take as long as it was now. He knew it was down there, but he’d been banned from seeing anything of it since those first four pictures. It was supposed to be a surprise.

He’d tried to sneak in numerous times, he’d tried to hack into the files, he’d tried bribery, guilt tripping and sulking but nothing had worked.

He couldn't say that he minded, not really, because he knew it was there. He'd known that somewhere deep below their villa, in the center of their island, his baby had been taking shape. He’d not been allowed any input in the shape, the visuals or anything else to do with her design, but her functions, that he’d been allowed to have a say in.

Brains had spent countless hours on video calls with him, discussing everything that Gordon insisted his craft needed, from her dry tubes to her mechanical arms, the type of sonar she was using to the consoles and onboard technology. And he just knew she would be spectacular. WASP might have their Stingray, but he’d have his little Thunderbird, now dubbed Thunderbird Four after John’s space station had been upgraded and become a fully fledged craft itself, going from a stationary satellite to a fully maneuverable ship.

Sometimes the thought of his girl taking shape, waiting for him, had been the only thing keeping him going through his painful, exhausting and sometimes seemingly hopeless recovery process.

It hadn’t been easy, on either his mind or his body and he wasn't ashamed to admit that, for a significant portion of that time, he had been the worst patient ever. Once the initial excitement of the Silverfin development had worn off and he had been staring down the long tunnel of recovery to his still quite uncertain future, he'd had times where he hadn’t been sure that it was possible to regain even half of his previous physicality, let alone get back to the full strength that would be needed to be of any use to International Rescue.

He didn’t want to be a dead weight to his family, he didn’t want them to be picking up the slack of his inadequacies, to spend more of their time rescuing his ass than the people they were trying to help.

Depression wasn’t something he had ever considered as a possibility in his life. He was the upbeat one, the one that kept the spirits up of those around him, so to not even be able to rise a smile for himself…let’s just say that there had been some very dark moments over his long months of recovery where he had not recognised himself and hadn’t been sure that there would ever be a time when he felt happy again.

He’d wanted to give up, he’d been so close to it so many times, yet somewhere, buried deep inside, covered in dust and rust, nestled a tiny nugget of steely determination. He’d found that nugget and chipped away at its bonds, had polished it and nurtured it as best he could until finally he had succeeded.

His recovery list had been almost as extensive as his injuries. He’d undergone all the common therapies such as targeted physiotherapy, smaller follow on surgeries, several aborted attempts at hydrotherapy and a rather surprising foray into hippotherapy, along with daily strengthening exercises.

But all of that had been just about bearable, physical pain and endurance was almost second nature to him, it was the mental side that had been the hardest to push past. Slowly, slowly, day by day he had become physically stronger while growing mentally weaker.

The more his body healed, the longer he was out of hospital, the more of his memories he'd regained, and with them came the darkness. Counselling had been arranged, PTSD had been diagnosed and he’d faced yet another uphill battle to rediscover the person he truly was.

He sighed, stopping for a moment to rest before he entered the hangar itself. Could he honestly say that he felt like himself again? The answer was no. No one could go through the trauma that he had suffered and not change in some way or another. No one could face death head on, shake it by the hand, politely decline its invitation and still be one hundred present themselves.

You need to find your new normal, you need to find yourself again. That had been the words that his third therapist had told him. Joel had been the only therapist he had clicked with, the only one that truly seemed to understand him and the way his brain worked, that or he was the only one to have bothered trying.

Finding your new normal, giving yourself permission to change, adapt and accept that something horrific had happened to you and that you would come out the other side a different person to the one that had gone in, that was to be expected. Joel had helped him see that, along with his family, friends and the medical staff that had supported him on his long, winding journey.

He’d gotten a little lost along the way a time or two, he’d back tracked, stopped to rest and had to drag himself back to his feet more times that he could count. But he’d done it. He hadn’t given up no matter how many times he had wanted to, no matter how many times he had been tempted to just roll over and let life continue to screw him over.

This was it, the moment of truth, the moment where he would sink or swim, the moment where he would decide once and for all if all his hard work had been worth it.

He took a deep breath and rounded the corner, leaving the shelter and protection of the tunnel corridor behind him, stepping into the hangars for the first time since he’d left the island 18 months ago, after his annual leave, preparing to return to WASP. 18 months that could be broken down into two months in the testing division, four months in hospital and twelve gruelling months of recovery. All leading up to this moment.

He walked in, Alan, Scott and John moving in formation to flank him, solid and dependable, as they had always been. They continued the distance as one, a close knit group that he knew would always have his back. The only one missing was Virgil.

“You ready, little bro?” on cue the booming bass of his brother’s voice came over the external speakers of Two to fill the hangar.

Knowing Virgil wouldn’t be able to hear him he settled for a double thumbs up. He was practically vibrating with anticipation, having to fight the urge to bounce up and down in excitement.

He heard the mechanical whirring as Two began her assent, lifting up on her support struts to reveal the door to the module, one that was painted with a big, white number Four. Slowly, almost as if it were happening in slow motion, the door lowered, creating the ramp way that the pod vehicles would descend.

His breath caught in his throat as the inside lights of the module turned on, revealing its contents.

“It’s...she’s....so yellow,” he stuttered, unable to think of anything else to say. There she was, his little bird, painted a bright, cheery yellow, her fin sticking bolt upright like a happy tail. The same little snub nose that had so enchanted him was now fitted out with high powered lights that would allow him to see in the darkest of depths. She was bright, she was gorgeous, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She was…

“Perfect,” he breathed.

He couldn’t look away, not to take in the happy and somewhat relieved smiles on his siblings faces, not to look at Brains who seemed to have magically materialised by his side to start giving him a technical rundown, not for anything.

Nothing could compare to this.

“So, was she worth it?” Scott asked as Gordon reached out to lovingly stroke the curved perfection of one engine.

Gordon nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The past year might have been the worst of his life, he knew that he would carry those memories with him forever, that he would continue to dream of waking up in that hospital bed again. He knew that things would never be the same for him, he was forever changed but, out of the darkness of his worst memories there was his little sub of hope.

“This is the best day of my life,” he sighed to himself as he settled in her seat, feeling the way it seemed to mould to his body with his exact specifications. This feeling right here, this made it all worth it. And he knew that one day in the not too distant future someone out there would see a flash of bright yellow in the darkness and know that same feeling of hope. They would know that help was on the way.

Because that's what International Rescue did, they defied the odds, they did the impossible and they never gave up.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2004 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 1965 #Gordon Tracy #grandma tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #alan tracy

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ryoceann · 3 years

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J2 Fanfic Rec List <3

In honour of all the j2 content we have recieved, and the amount of fanfiction I have read, I decided to make a rec-list nobody asked me for but EVERYONE has to read k? Capiche? Make sure to heed the warnings, and read the tags. These are some beautiful gems by very talented authors and I’ve only scratched the surface of it.

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The Courtship Of Jensen’s Co-Star{Masterpost} by qblackheart-

Summary:- Somewhere in the time between a handshake and a hug, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki went from being reel-life brothers to real-life best friends, and complete strangers to cosmic soul mates, no rhyme or reason to it that either of them could ever see. Jared was everything Jensen was not: friendly, funny, and full of life; one in six-point-whatever billion the Earth’s population currently stood at. Life was awesome. Work was amazing. Everything was fine until Jared kissed Jensen. Everything was peachy until Jensen fell in love. With desperate times unexpectedly calling for desperate measures, Jensen called Chad Michael Murray for relationship advice – because being in love led to temporary insanity obviously – so it really didn't surprise him that he couldn’t seem to win when it came to wooing Jared. Still, Pisces must’ve been in a really good place in the night sky or something because suddenly, right smack dab in the middle of the miserable courtship of his co-star, Jensen discovered that maybe loving Jared was all he needed to do to win his heart. And luckily for Jensen, loving Jared was also the one thing he did best. ~112k~

The Play Nice Proviso{Masterpost} by qblackheart-

Summary:- When Jensen Ackles first met Jared Padalecki, it was most definitely not love at first sight. It wasn’t even like at first sight. In fact, Jensen hated him, and he had a few good reasons as to why. So what if his new co-star was oblivious to his one-sided warfare? Jensen could deal. Apart from when he couldn’t. So when it came down to picking between Padalecki and his peace of mind, the choice seemed clear. Except for the fact that The Network had his balls in a vice, leaving him stuck with Supernatural, stuck with his idiot co-star, and worst of all, stuck with a ‘Play Nice’ Proviso added to his contract. Well, he could play nice. He would play so nice that the world was going to think that he and Jared Padalecki were the bestest friends in the history of best friends. It was unfortunate then that no one had ever told Jensen what happened when an immovable object met an irresistible force; no one had ever thought to mention that there was a thin line between hate and love; and nothing, absolutely nothing, could have possibly prepared him for Playing Nice with Jared Padalecki. ~70k~

And The Rest, As They Say Is History by Raina_at-

Summary:- Struggling actor Jensen takes a job as big-shot movie star Jared Padalecki’s dogsitter. And the rest, as they say, is history. ~17k~

reinventing love ‘verse{Masterpost} by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- With high school graduation less than two weeks away, best friends Jared and Jensen find themselves scrambling to tie up a few loose ends before they’re forced into adulthood. Jared ropes Jensen into helping him get the alcohol for Sandy's graduation party, and what should be a simple night of partying ends up turning into a series of mishaps and misunderstandings that all come to head when Jensen finally tells Jared the secret he wasn't ever planning on spilling. If high school has to end, they're going out with a bang. (A J2 spin on the movie Superbad) ~200k+~

My Heart Don’t Beat The Way It Used To by Raina_at-

Summary:- Jared and Jensen have been best friends forever, and nothing’s going to ever change that, not even senior slump, or college anxieties, or even Jared getting an annoying cheerleader girlfriend. Or so Jensen thought. ~26k~

Can’t Point The Way To Your Heart by Belyste-

Summary:- AU in the vein of movies like Hitch - Jensen's an unofficial advice guru, and Jared's his latest project. Except while Jensen's supposed to be helping Jared end up with the woman of his dreams, he falls for him instead. ~33k~

Something Borrowed, Something Blue by Belyste-

Summary:- When Jared desperately needs a date for his brother's wedding, he hires an escort. Jensen's the perfect fake boyfriend, except pretty soon things get a little too real. Based on The Wedding Date. ~38k~

True Colors by muni-playground-

Summary:- Jared is a mentally challenged young man with a very special gift. Jensen is an executive with nothing in his life but work. They meet by accident and discover a connection that defies explanation. ~32k~

The Billionaire’s Reluctant Husband by house_of_lantis-

Summary:- Billionaire Jensen is a playboy and he needs a husband pronto if he wants to keep his company and his inheritance. After a chance meeting with quiet and hardworking Jared, Jensen decides that he’s found the perfect candidate. The arrogant Jensen thinks he’s got Jared in the bag, but when his new husband refuses to sleep with him and doesn’t really even seem to like him, Jensen convinces himself that he’s happy with his open marriage lifestyle. But Jensen becomes increasingly obsessed with his new husband and discovers the truth behind Jared’s dark past. ~98k~

Project Get Jared Banged{Masterpost} by soulmatecest-

Summary:- Jared's had the best stepbrother in the world in Jensen since the age of five — growing up together and more attached than usual brothers would —, only realizing that he’s in love with Jensen by the time he hits thirteen. After five more years of Jared's impossible crush, he knows his life turns and spins around his brother. Luckily for Jared, he and Jensen have always been closer than other siblings, making his feelings seem a little less hopeless. Or that is until Jensen announces he’s moving to Austin to live with his girlfriend next year, leaving Jared's perfectly built Jensen-centric world crashing to the ground. That’s when Chad and Sandy decide to convince Jared that moving on and letting go of his feelings are the only way to get through his lost love for Jensen. Yet their plan to get Jared out of his shell and over his stepbrother doesn't sit well with one person: Jensen himself, who realizes that the more Jared tries to pull away, the more he wants to get him back closer. ~120k~

Burn The Land and Boil The Sea by nyxocity-

Summary:- Eight years ago, Jared spent his entire summer on a tropical island off the coast of Mexico with Jensen. He fell head over heels for Jensen, but their lives were going separate directions at the end of the summer, and they never quite got together. Jensen left for Greenpeace and Jared went off to college—but he never truly got over Jensen. Now, in present day, Jared is a marine biologist working on a project in the gorgeous panhandle of Alaska. He’s amazed to discover the captain of the ship he’s chartered is none other than Jensen Ackles himself. Jared’s overjoyed, but Jensen is less than thrilled—he’s a changed man since that summer so long ago; withdrawn, passionless and solitary. Still something of the bond between them remains, and neither of them seem to be able to escape its pull completely. When Jared’s project leads them into danger and leaves them running and fighting for their lives, Jensen’s secrets begin to come out, drawing them back together—but can they survive long enough to figure out this thing between them? ~53k~

As This Sunset Turns to Morning{Masterpost} by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- Jensen spends his life hiding who he is from the family that would never accept him if they knew. When he’s uprooted in the middle of his senior year and suddenly becomes the new kid, his carefully placed mask begins to slip. Especially when he meets Jared – a loud, outspoken spectacle of a boy that fights for everything Jensen was taught to stand against. Jared has no problem going after what he wants, and now it’s just a matter of Jensen letting himself do the same. ~86k~

Leave My Heart Out of This by elless18- (link to the timestamps)

Summary:- AU. Jensen needs to get married in order to get his grandfather’s inheritance and open his own law firm. Jared would do anything to help his best friend. The plan is simple- pretend to date, get married, get the inheritance, get divorced. But things grow complicated when one of them starts falling for his fake boyfriend. Can they find their happily-ever-after from all the lies they’ve built around them? ~35k+~

Who Watches Over Me? by nyoxicity-

Summary:- Jensen Ackles is an ex-Navy SEAL turned civilian bodyguard with a mysterious past. Jared Padalecki is a flamboyant Hollywood star known for his action movies who's been receiving death threats. The case sounds like Jensen's idea of a nightmare, and he takes it on against his better judgment. Jared drags him to clubs and parties and award ceremonies without any care for how difficult he's making Jensen's job, and to his complete lack of surprise, they hate each other. But when hate changes into passion, it begins to reveal something deeper between them, and Jensen realizes he's in over his head. Can he still do his job and keep Jared safe? Or will he fall prey to his greatest fear and fail someone... again? ~96k~

The Billionaire’s Bidding by Raina_at-

Summary:- When idle, slacking billionaire’s son Jensen Ackles lends a helping hand to his old childhood friend, he gets a lot more than he’s bargained for. ~31k~

Hold My Whipped Cream by dimpleforyourthoughts-

Summary:- International Best Selling Author Jensen Ackles is all kinds of specific with the details of his life. He likes privacy, writing, and coffee; black, no sugar, hold the cream. He’s become a fixture at the local coffee shop, writing from his table every day for the past two years. His vices include routine, neatness, and structure. Jensen doesn’t do messes. Then there is Jared, recent post-grad basket case, who’s been coming in every day for caffeine he doesn’t need and bringing the increasing disaster in his life with him. Jared is a mess in all the ways Jensen is not and so Jensen offers to help Jared in the only way he knows how: by buying Jared a cup of coffee. ~37k~

Operation: Mistletoe by dimpleforyourthoughts-

Summary:- FBI Agent Jensen Ackles is a damn good agent, but his devil-may-care attitude, gut instinct, and sheer dumb luck have finally run out. With his job and reputation on the line, Jensen is assigned to a new partner: the overzealous and overachieving Agent Jared Padalecki. Their mission: Infiltrate a ring of drug dealers hiding out in Suburbia in the midst of the Holiday season. The only catch? They have to pretend to be head-over-heels in love with each other. ~39k~

Regaining Sense{Masterpost} by astri13-

Summary:- A vengeful crime-boss cost Jensen not only his eyesight but also a promising career with the FBI. When the man resurfaces two years later, Jensen is not thrilled to find himself taken into protective custody, even less so when the Agent in charge turns out to be Jensen's former partner and boyfriend, Jared Padalecki. Will the two men be able to overcome their differences and work together to not only stop the bad guy but also uncover the mole in their own ranks before it is too late? ~27k~

Say You’re Mine by Belyste-

Summary:- It takes his two best friends getting engaged to make Jared realize what’s missing in his own life, but once he figures it out, he’s a man on a mission: find true love or die trying. He’s not asking for much – just the perfect soul mate to spend blissful eternity with – so when a chance meeting drops Jensen into his life (and his lap), it seems like fate. But either Jensen missed that memo or fate seems to have other ideas, because nothing works out the way Jared planned. Based loosely on S1 of How I Met Your Mother, but you don't need to have seen that to know what's going on. ~56k~

Absence From Those We Love by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- Jensen Ackles led a great life. It just wasn’t the one he planned on. Now he’s newly single, stuck at a job he hates, and sharing an apartment with his lovably psychotic best friend. When he’s given the chance to go back and do it all over again, he leaps at it. Only he soon comes to realize that no matter what’s in front of him, it’s impossible to leave the past behind. Considering what he’d be giving up, he might not even want to. (17 Again - J2 Style.) ~41k~

Change The Fate’s Design by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- All Jensen has ever wanted to do is see the ocean. Unfortunately, that's kind of hard to do when your dad won't let you leave your house in the forest because of your magical powers. So, Jensen spends most of his days with no one but his pet hedgehog to keep him company. At least, until a guy named Jared stumbles along and offers to help him realize his dream. (A J2 spin on Disney's Tangled.) ~50k~

A Spotlight On These Desolate Dreams{Masterpost} by _mournthewicked-

Summary:- In high school, Jared Padalecki had it all. He was surrounded with rich, famous, beautiful friends and partied with young Hollywood's elite. As if all of that wasn't exciting enough, he used the tricks he learned from his grandfather to become an amateur sleuth with his billionaire best friend, Jensen Ackles, playing the role of trusty sidekick. But when he got in over his head and lost everything he once held dear, he knew that it was time to move on. That was ten years ago. Now he lives the lonely life of a hardboiled private investigator on the streets of Manhattan, and his fabulous past is nothing but a distant memory. That is, until a tragedy forces him to return to California and the world he left behind. Between juggling rabid paparazzi, sarcastic detectives, and a spurned ex-best friend, it's a wonder that he can possibly find the time to solve a murder that has left the city of angels reeling. ~50k~

Break Me, Shake Me, Hate Me, Take Me Over by orphan_account- (sorry, I can’t access the author’s account but the story’s link still works!)

Summary:- When recklessness, alcohol and a bullet to his hip sees his police career end in disgrace, alpha Jensen Ackles resigns himself to a life spent in the dregs of a bottle, aimless and filled with regrets, watching as the bills and eviction notices pile up. That is, until he's offered a job and lodging with beta lawyer Samantha Smith, as a pseudo bouncer/admin worker. It's a far cry from his previous life, but it might just be what Jensen needs to drag himself from the dark place he's in. Not only that, but little does Jensen realise that taking on the position will bring him face to face with his biggest regret; the person he walked away from three years ago in what was the worst mistake of his life... ~70k~

Whiskey River, You’re All I Got by whisperedstory-

Summary:- Jensen's life revolves around The Whiskey Sour, the bar he inherited from his grandfather nine years ago. But with too few customers and not nearly enough profit, things are taking a turn for the worse. And then Jared Padalecki walks into Jensen's life and changes everything. ~19k~

Out Of The Silence by annie46-

Summary:- When hardened, but lonely cop, Jensen Ackles meets Jared Padalecki in his family’s diner, he doesn’t realise that his life is about to change drastically. Jared is a complete innocent, deaf, mute and unable to communicate, he needs a friend. Can Jensen be that man? ~the word count wasn’t mentioned but if i had to take a guess, I’d say something between 20k and 30k~

The Execution Of The Last Steal by soulmatecest-

Summary:- Anyone who meets Jared Padalecki would think he has the perfect life: a college degree, a normal life and an apparently perfect fiancé, Stephen Amell, the son of a Senator with a bright future. Except for one thing: it’s all based on a lie. Five years ago, he created a new identity for himself to cut all ties to his criminal past and ex-boyfriend Jensen Ackles, a world-renowned thief. But Jared can’t run forever. A threat from his past comes back looking for him and the only person who can help him is the man he thought he left behind forever, the only person Jared’s never been able to forget. Incredibly charming and just as cocky, Jensen Ackles is a thief that is too good at his job for his own good, who would do anything to protect Jared now that his life is in danger. Years have gone by, but he has never been able to forget Jared either. And perhaps now that they are forced to escape together, Jensen might be able to do what he’s best at: steal Jared’s heart one last time and win back the only person Jensen has ever loved. ~97k~

Bring Me To Life by alienat-

Summary:- Jared’s a shy young man, whose life has never been easy. His father hates him, his mother drinks her sorrows away and his husband Paul treats him like he is nothing more than a beautiful toy. When his husband has to go away on a business trip to Europe for two months, he sends Jared away to a ranch in the middle of nowhere to keep him under control. There, Jared meets people who show him what love, friendship and loyalty mean for the first time in his life. Can he escape his life and finally find some love and happiness for himself? ~81k~

Gunpoint{Series} by felisblanco-

Summary:- Jensen got his childhood stolen away from him when he was ten years old. Along with his memory, his voice and every emotion that wasn’t fear, hatred or anger. Question is, can Jared help him get any of it back? And more importantly, does Jensen really want him to?

Election Day by morganaDW(morgana07)-

Summary:- Jensen's running for President with the deck already stacked against him. He's come out as gay while serving in Congress, his Vice President is a colorful Misha & his family has disowned him over his choice of partners. But that's not the worst of it...On Election Day when he should be focused on winning Jared ends up shot after stepping in front of a killer's gun to save some school children. Election Day is important but to Jensen nothing is more important than Jared and he doesn't care who knows it or if he loses so long as he can be with him. It's Jensen who winds up surprised in the end. ~8k~

A Boy At An Open Door by poor_choices-

Summary:- Jensen Ackles' life is all sorted out, until a blast from the past shows up and makes him realize he's not as happy as he thought. ~10k~

Beautiful Disaster by nyoxicity-

Summary:- Rock Band AU. Jensen’s the lead guitarist in the number one rock band in the country. Justin’s the lead singer, and they’ve been doing this together since middle-school, been together since just after high school. As on top of the world as they are, Jensen’s starting to become disillusioned with the lifestyle and his crumbling relationship with Justin. And then he meets a new roadie on the crew named Jared who’s got a voice like an angel and a heart to match, and everything starts to change. ~96k~

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And that’s the end of it!!! These are absolutely beautiful, gorgeous and epic fanfictions and will keep you buys for days! Hope y’all enjoy these, I’m off to read more sksksksksk. Let me know if a link doesn’t work, if you like any of these in my inbox and if y’all want a part 2! Peace and J2 5 ever!!!

#j2 #j2 fic recs #j2 recs #j2 fic rec #j2 rec list #fanfiction #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #me as a stan doing my civil duty #ENJOY IT J2 NATION #!!!

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destielharlequinchallenge · 4 years

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The Destiel Harlequin Challenge Master Post: 2020 Mega Bang

Participants in the 2020 Destiel Harlequin Challenge completed an amazing 20 fics and 3 sets of artwork! You can learn all about those here!

Spectre (fic by a_dusky_gold, art by aceriee)

This whole thing… this was supposed to be a fucking farce. A way to keep Nicholas Vaught occupied until the deadline he’d given Dean would run out, and he’d still get the money to send Dad to the Town Hall rehabilitation for alcoholism, because that was the goddamned deal.

There were no such things as ghosts or magic or a Book of Life. Dean knows, okay? He wasn’t the Army’s goddamned Mystery Raider for nothin’; he knows history, he knows artifacts, and he knows that the Book of Life is an ancient myth that is about as real as werewolves or vampires.

And yet.

“The Book of Life,” the man had said. Dean can’t even remember his name.

Shit, shit, shit.

Dangerous Ground by Amethystaris

Special Agents for the Department of Diplomatic Security, Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester have been partners and best friends for three years, but everything changed the night Cas admitted the truth about his feelings for Dean. And when Cas was shot a few hours later, Dean felt his reluctance to get involved was vindicated.

Can a camping trip in the High Sierras save their partnership?

Honour Undressed by andimeantittosting

Among his friends, Castiel, Lord Milton is everyone’s confidant and, along with his trusted valet, the fixer of problems. But there is one secret Castiel has never shared: he is in love with his valet and has been for years.

Born in the gutters, Dean Winchester was assigned as Castiel’s batman in the war, and when Castiel travelled home to take up his title, Dean followed him as his valet. To assist Castiel, Dean is not above a little burglary or blackmail. But the one thing he wants for himself is Castiel’s heart.

When Castiel’s closest friends become the target of a blackmailer, certain truths come out. But while Dean determines to seduce Castiel, Castiel is adamant that he must resist, for if there is one rule a gentleman must follow, it is never to dally with his servant.

Havenport by BlueMasquerade

Castiel cleared space on his desk by the expedience of sweeping the previous contents to the side. He set the bundle down in the center of the surface and studied the knots in the rope before expertly untying them.

The book was old, its leather bindings cracked and crumbling. He carefully opened the cover to reveal the pages within, each hand cut, the edges beautifully deckled, the text written in pen and ink.

“This is written in ancient Enochian.” Castiel looked up, gaze narrowed. “Where did you obtain a book written in ancient Enochian?”

“Is that what it is? All I could tell is that it sure as hell isn’t English.” Mr. Winchester grinned, a dimple flashing in his cheek.

an aching in my heart by contemplativepancakes

When Dean’s best friend dies, leaving behind her daughter, Dean knows he has what it takes to give Claire the life she deserves. The problem is, they’re not related by blood, and Claire’s long lost uncle gets called to take her in. Castiel Novak was bad news when he was in highschool with Dean, and judging by his blue hair and tattoo sleeves, nothing’s changed. Castiel ran out on his family once before, and there’s no way Dean’s going to let that happen to Claire without putting up a fight.

Fools and Fate by Danica_Dust

Castiel Novak fled his coven to escape the rigid, predetermined Fate laid out for him within its confines. Desperate and alone, he took shelter in the city of Sacriloga, forsaking all magic and living off whatever he could steal. There, witches like Cas are hunted. They are feared. And they are burned.

When Jack, a young witch also on the run from his own coven, seeks out Cas’ aid, however, Cas finds that he cannot reject the boy, leaving him to his sure destruction. Especially after the newest visitor to Sacriloga makes his presence known: the legendary Hunter, Dean Winchester, who has been following Jack’s trail.

Sworn to the Men of Letters, Hunters live by one principle: thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. Dean’s path was never meant to cross with Cas', but a desperate stunt and a single mistake forces them into an impossible union—holy matrimony.

The war between the witches and the Men of Letters is an ancient one and Cas' most dangerous enemies bring a Fate worse than fire. Unable to ignore his growing feelings, yet powerless to change what he is, a choice must be made.

A suffocating Fate on one hand. A precarious freedom on the other. And in between, the kind of love that makes fools of us all.

Ozone by Deancebra

A young magic user who wants desperately to live. A jaded recluse who has forgotten what living means. They’re each other’s only chance.

Dean’s wild magic is killing him. The mage guilds have given up on him, and it’s only a matter of time before he dies in a spectacular, catastrophic bang. His only hope is an exiled wizard who lives in seclusion—and is rumored to have lost his mind.

The years alone on his hilltop estate have not been good for Castiel Novak. After the magical accident that disfigured him and nearly destroyed the village, he drifts through his days, a wraith trapped in memories and depression. Until a stricken young man collapses on his driveway, one who claims Castiel is his last chance. For the first time in fifteen years, Castiel must make a choice—leave this wild mage to his fate or take him in and try to teach him, which may kill them both. The old Castiel, brash and commanding, wouldn’t have hesitated. Castiel the exile isn’t sure he can find the energy to try.

A Demon Like Him by EllenOfOz

Dean Winchester doesn’t want to be a warlock. The idea of working in a lab, channeling demonic magic into enchanted batteries is not what he wants to do with his life, but it’s a dangerous opinion to have—his father was a powerful and well-connected warlock, and Dean is expected to follow the family tradition.

His only way out is to fail the demon summoning class—failure means expulsion from the Warlock College. Despite Dean’s best efforts to fumble the summoning, it works. Although not the way anyone expects.

Dean’s demon, Castiel, is an incubus, but also a powerful mage on a mission to rebalance the magic that is being stripped from Demonside by warlocks.

Dean must choose: fail out of his final exam and turn his back on becoming a warlock, or help Castiel and graduate. But he doesn’t count on how hot the incubus is, or how close they have become in just a few days.

A Working Relationship by fangirlingtodeath513

The homes that Castiel Novak designs for Angelic Houses are to die for. They’re pristine, perfectly designed and organized, and they’ve caused more than a few bidding wars. It’s the perfect job—he’s organized, good with math, and he’s able to pick up on design trends relatively quickly. The only thing that isn’t perfect? His obnoxious older brother, Luke. Castiel’s been vying for a position on a flipping team for years now, but Luke has never even considered it. When a lecherous gossip reporter overhears an argument, they receive an offer they can’t refuse.

They’re invited to compete on Flip Off, a competition where two people flip houses and compete for the highest profit. Castiel wants the leverage a win would bring him, but he also wants to prove himself. Enter Dean Winchester, a contractor with his own team and one that’s blissfully unconnected to Angelic Houses, allowing Castiel to prove himself without any help from the family company.

The undeniable attraction between them certainly doesn’t help matters, but Castiel is resolute in his decision to make a move only after they’ve finished working together. At least, that had been his plan until Dean made him an offer he simply couldn’t refuse.

Crashing In by followyourenergy

Castiel Novak is convinced he’s the last unwillingly single person in Lupine Cove. Even Gabriel, his perpetual bachelor brother, has found love. It’s probably because Cas leads the most boring life in existence. He’s a gay man living in a rented, one-room cottage in the same small coastal town he grew up in, just getting by as the owner of the same convenience store he was practically raised in. The most excitement he gets is chatting with the locals or maybe, if he’s unlucky, oversleeping and rushing to work. So when a baby is left at the Safe Haven drop-off at the local fire station, he takes the opportunity to step in for the child temporarily, at least until suitable parents, plural, can be found.

Life certainly gets more interesting.

And it gets even more interesting when a handsome man comes crashing—literally—into his life.

Make Me Believe by GhoulsnHalos

Ten years ago, Castiel Novak’s stepfather disowned him, taking from him his place as hereditary heir to the head of the Hunter and Warrior Guild. Now, he’s a self-made, and celebrated, master gem and metal smith. Castiel doesn’t believe that the God’s decide your soulmate. Until he designs what can only be a gift fit for his soul mate, who in contradiction to the etiquette, if not the laws of Neffroen, must be a man.

Dean Winchester is convinced that he is a lowly, dumbass, no magic hunter who couldn’t possibly be on the same social scale as a Novak. So, why is it when he spots the jewelled torc in Castiel’s shop, Dean develops an obsession over the neckpiece and its creator? It can't be anything to do with the will of the Gods, no matter what anyone says, because that's baloney and Dean's not into men.

When Castiel’s long-lost brother turns up and suggests he ought to challenge their stepfather and that Dean is destined to help Castiel rule the clan, Castiel takes some convincing. The real problem is Dean. Can Castiel with the help of family and friends convince Dean of his place by Castiel’s side? Can Dean play the part everyone expects of him to help Castiel regain his rightful place in society?

Shielded Heart by JuniperJones

Arthos, the Infinite City, is a place of alien wonders and indescribable beauty—and, most importantly for Dean, it’s also halfway across the universe from his abusive ex-fiancé. He came to the city desperate for a fresh start, but he finds himself downtrodden on a world of aloof alien beings with little hope of finding his place—and a good chance of being kidnapped or killed before he can even settle in.

At least until he is saved by an irresistible alien with piercing eyes and a seductive smile.

Castiel is the living embodiment of temptation, and he makes no effort to disguise his desire for Dean. But when his past threatens to drag Dean into a dangerous underworld, Dean discovers Castiel isn’t who he claims to be. After enduring so much suffering, can Dean bear to take a leap of faith with this mysterious alien? Can he trust Castiel with not only his life, but his heart?

Stumble and Fall by Kitmistry

Castiel was raised to do one thing: serve his country, whether that was fighting a war or becoming an expert spy. But when his lover is charged with treason and executed Castiel defects. He has evidence that can destroy the KGB’s entire spy ring in New Mexico, he has names of scientists involved with atomic weapons who send information to the Soviets, and he won’t stop until he has revenge.

Putting all his trust in the Americans, Castiel finds himself under the protection of U.S. Marshal Dean Winchester, who is too cocky and attractive for his own good, but at least seems to know what he’s doing.

When a routine transfer to a safehouse goes horribly wrong, Castiel and Dean narrowly escape with their lives. With the Marshals compromised and Castiel being framed for murder, he and Dean are on the run from KGB and law enforcement alike. They have no one to trust except each other, and nowhere to go that their enemies can’t reach.

The Shots We Don’t Take by MandalaRose

Still nursing the tatters of a broken heart and trying desperately to stave off the terror of his impending graduation, college senior Cas Novak decides it’s time to blow off a little steam. Not just any hook-up will do, however. The last thing Cas needs right now is a distraction. On the lookout for someone he can enjoy a steamy night of passion with before leaving them behind entirely, Cas thinks he’s found exactly what he needs in cocky university hockey star and well-known playboy Dean Winchester.

Dean is gorgeous, doesn’t date, and is the singular most infuriating person Cas has ever met. He’s the perfect one night stand...that is, until Dean decides he wants an instant replay of what was supposed to be a one-time event. Will Cas’ offer of friends, sans benefits, convince the arrogant love ’em and leave ’em hockey defenseman to find an easier score? Or will Dean wear down Cas’ defenses and lure the sexy nerd in the dorky trenchcoat back to his bed?

Bullets Over the Bayou (fic by mattzerella_sticks, art by dontbelasagnax)

Everyone wants Castiel Novak to quit the force, including Castiel. But he stays on despite the toxic work environment he’s surrounded by. Still believing he can do some good despite the many lines of red tape impeding him. Luckily, a pair of scissors by the name of Dean Winchester drops into his hands, and he finally feels like he can do some good.

Dean Winchester thought he would be in New Orleans for a day or two. Identify the body of his deadbeat father and then move on. No one knows he’s here. His mother and brother are blissfully unaware of the danger his father roped him into. With a parting gift of a journal, delivered to him the same day he received word about his father, Dean has become the target of a group of people who want him dead. The same people who killed his father.

Racing against the clock, can Dean and Castiel figure out what is so important about John Winchester’s journal that someone would kill for it?

Masquerade by noxsoulmate

It had begun as such a good plan; one that benefitted them both. And masquerading as Castiel Krushnic's boyfriend during the weeks of balls, galas, and charity events certainly was no hardship. With the impending end of their arrangement, though, Dean Winchester must admit that behind the mask of an aloof CEO lies a man he could fall in love with. Or maybe, he already has…

The Medium by raths_kitten

Detective Dean Winchester hates it when his Chief sends a medium to consult on his cases. But this time, the murder is closely linked to Castiel’s world and they both need to work together to solve it.

Any Semblance of Touch (fic by saltnhalo, art by c-kaeru)

1925, New York.

Dean Winchester’s life’s work is protecting the world from the supernatural relics that could destroy it. When an amulet with the power to control the tides is shipped to New York, he must intercept it before it can be used to devastating effects. This time, in order to succeed, he needs a powerful psychometric… and the only one available has sworn off the magical world altogether.

Castiel Novak’s gift comes with great risk. To protect himself, he’s become a recluse, redirecting his magic into museum research. But with the city’s fate hanging in the balance, and faced with the power of Dean’s charm and persuasion…

He can’t force himself to say no.

The Love of a Righteous Man by SargentMom573

Five years ago, Captain Dean Winchester defied his father, Senator John Winchester. With his brother Sam, and his spaceship Impala, Dean found his place among a ragtag fleet of pirates and smugglers. Their latest mission left him with a price on his head and a scar on his heart. When a surprise attack separated him from Sam and revealed a Sith weapon, he would do whatever it took to bring his brother back – even sacrifice his own happiness.

After Emperor Michael’s death broke the psychic link between them, Emperor’s Hand Castiel Novak spent years drowning his sorrows at the bottom of a barrel. Mostly sober, three years ago he found a new purpose as the Impala’s Chief Medical Officer, and Sam Winchester’s guide in the Force. And a good friend in the Impala’s gruff but kind Captain.

Dean and Castiel must work together to bring Sam home alive. But when Castiel’s last mission is exposed, will Castiel complete it and destroy any hopes Dean had for a family? Will Dean forgive Cas’ horrific purpose before it is too late? And give them both what they really want — the love of a righteous man.

SKID by spnsmile

Dean Winchester swore off love after getting dumped and fired from his job the same day. Badly drunk, he ended up balcony-hopping until a pair of hands snatched him inside a darkened room. But it's no hero, it's someone with deep voice whispering threats with a gun pointed at his back. Dean’s too drunk to deal with life but one good look at his hot assailant plus enough beer sold him to his accursed fate. The next morning, he found himself engaged to the most notorious leader of a powerful clan, Castiel Novak.

Married life in the compound for a month was not as blissful so when he could, Dean fought for that freedom. Castiel relented and as Dean tried to put the pieces of his normal life together, getting a bike messenger job and dealing with pain in the ass clients, he now also needs to deal with the dangerous presence of his very jealous and very protective husband watching over him.

Is his life ever going to get back to normal?

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