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#and she said i doubt i’ll be back to counseling
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just found out that my therapist passed away this morning 💔🙏🏼
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captainremmington-13 · 7 months
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A Lady Made of Snow
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DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova.
SUMMARY: After Arachne’s death, Coriolanus and Bellova manage to go a day without insulting each other.
Warnings: spoilers for TBOSAS, mentions of death
A/n: I am using a combination of the movie and book version of the events that occur in this chapter. This chapter begins with a third-person point of view that centers around Bellova’s inner thoughts. After the time skip, the third-person point of view shifts to reveal Coriolanus’s thoughts.
The following morning, Bellova spotted Coriolanus just outside of Heavensbee Hall. She noticed that he seemed exhausted, which wasn’t surprising. She hadn’t slept much either, the memory of Arachne’s dying screams keeping her awake throughout the night.
She approached him, giving him the usual cordial nod, which he returned.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, surprising her. He never asked her about anything personal. They mainly discussed school or mundane gossip, not their emotions. 
“I’ll be fine,” she said as they walked into the assembly together. “I hardly slept, though. I couldn’t stop thinking about…well, you know.”
Coriolanus nodded. “I stayed up writing the proposal for Dr. Gaul.”
Bellova raised an eyebrow. “I thought you and Clemensia were supposed to do that together.”
“Yes, well, I didn’t want to wait. Clemensia probably isn’t in any shape to do much schoolwork at the moment.” 
“That’s fair,” Bellova said as they took their usual place in the hall, waiting for the assembly to start. “I’m sure Dr. Gaul will be pleased that you went through with writing it, even with what happened yesterday.”
Coriolanus looked at her, a ghost of a grin dancing across his lips. “What’s gotten into you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re being so…nice.”
She scoffed, adjusting the collar of her uniform shirt. “I’m not nice, Coryo. I’m polite.”
“Debatable,” he muttered. 
Bellova rolled her eyes. “So what if I’m being less combative than usual? Yesterday forced me to reflect upon what really matters to me.” 
“What exactly does that mean?”
Bellova opened her mouth to respond, but Professor Satyria Click cleared her throat, silencing the student body. 
She wasn’t surprised that Dean Highbottom was absent. The old man was probably higher than normal after yesterday’s events.
Satyria spoke of Arachne in a way that Bellova deemed inaccurate. She wasn’t extraordinarily intelligent, funny, or special in any way, really. But she listened intently and even teared up a couple times. She saw Coriolanus do the same out of the corner of her eye, but knew he wasn’t actually that emotional. She’d listened to him complain about Arachne and her antics too many times to count.
Professor Sickle acknowledged Coriolanus and Bellova’s efforts to save Arachne, which made them both wince slightly. They did not want to be reminded of the gruesome sight of their classmate bleeding to her death. 
The counselor, Mrs. Lunt, added that grief counseling was available to anyone who may need it. Finally, Professor Satyria announced that Arachne’s funeral would be the following morning.
After the students were dismissed, the twenty-three remaining mentors went to Professor Demigloss’s classroom. It was obvious that all of them wanted to be at home, but no one spoke up about it. 
Demigloss handed out a sheet of paper listing all of the tributes, their names, and their assigned mentors. Bellova immediately scratched off Arachne’s name, and then felt a pang of guilt. She didn’t mean to erase the girl’s memory so quickly, but it erasing the scratch mark wouldn’t bring her back to life .
Not much time had passed before Clemensia and Coriolanus were summoned to the Citadel, no doubt by Dr. Gaul. Bellova mouthed ‘good luck’ to Coriolanus, who gave her a genuine smile in return. That was rare, coming from him. 
Bellova turned away from him and back towards the professor, concealing her slightly flushed cheeks. 
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Coriolanus hastily made his way out of the Capitol Zoo, tripping several times but managing to avoid falling. He figured that it was late enough that his arrival at home wouldn’t be suspicious, so he started on his way back to his apartment complex.
Suddenly, his shoulder bumped harshly against someone else’s. He stumbled a bit, but the other person tumbled to the ground, cursing angrily. 
“Bellova?” 
Bellova groaned, sitting up slowly and gathering the apples that had spilled out of her arms. “Coriolanus. What are you doing here?”
“Visiting Lucy Gray. What are you doing here so late?”
“Bringing food to Velvereen,” she said. “I figured she could use something to eat, it’s been awhile.”
“Ah,” Coriolanus said. He watched as she walked over to the monkey exhibit, passed the apples through the bars, and patted Velvereen’s hand reassuringly. She walked back to him, and he noticed how drained she looked. He wanted to say something, but refrained. 
“Want me to walk you home?” he asked instead. “I know you live close by.”
Bellova sighed. “Sure.”
A few minutes after leaving the Zoo, Coriolanus decided to inform Bellova about Clemensia’s “accident”. He thought Lucy Gray would be the only one he’d tell, but he figured that Bellova would keep the incident confidential.
Her eyes widened in horror when he described the snake bite. “Will she be alright?”
He nodded. “I visited the hospital, and the doctors think she’ll survive. Not without mental damage, though.”
Bellova bit her lip. “This is all a disaster. We’re dropping like flies. I wouldn’t be surprised if a handful of us mentors lose our lives after this is all over.”
“Don’t say that,” Coriolanus said. “We just have to be careful. And regardless of what happens, you and I will be fine. Surely you know that.”
“We’re stronger than the others,” Bellova agreed. “We’re smarter, more resilient, and less susceptible to our emotions. But that doesn’t guarantee that we’ll come out of this without scars.”
“We survived a war,” Coriolanus pointed out. “We can live through this too.”
Bellova looked at him, her eyelids beginning to droop slightly from exhaustion. “Since when did you become an optimist?”
Coriolanus let out a short laugh. “I haven’t. I’m just…trying to ease your worries.” 
She gave him a smile. “I appreciate your efforts.”
They reached Bellova’s estate a couple moments later. Spontaneously, Coriolanus decided to leave a parting kiss on Bellova’s cheek, rendering her speechless. 
She simply waved goodbye to him, then walked through the gates that were being held open for her by guards. Coriolanus watched her disappear into her lavish home, wishing more than anything that he lived in a place twice as large as hers.
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TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy
Author’s Note: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments! I know that this chapter was sorta short, but the next one is wayyy longer and v e r y eventful👀 Stay tuned for Chapter 4!
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wambsgansshoelaces · 8 months
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blurb 5!!!! hurray!!!!
I Wouldn’t
Gerri Kellman x Reader
prompt: “wouldn’t mind if it had like an office romance vibe to it x”
thank you @su240210 for requesting 🩷 I love you sososososo much!!!! You’re the blog’s best friend frfr(also, request more Gerri… this was suspiciously fun to write)
Word Count: 780
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Your foot taps impatiently on the floor. You’ve been waiting for too long.
There’s no doubt about it now: you’ve been stood up. With an irritated sigh, you get up from your table in the cafe, gather your things, and leave. You get to work in a bit of a miserable mood. This entire thing was just a slap in the face.
You hurry into the Waystar office, expression matching your abysmal mood. You get to your office and immediately throw yourself into your work, just trying to forget. Everything’s been so difficult lately, and frustration was becoming your best friend. You hate it. You hate the negative emotion, you hate being alone. But what can you do?
Your so absorbed in your work that you don’t hear the first knock on your office door. The second time the knock sounds, the sound is so loud it startles you. You wave Gerri in.
“Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” you admit tersely. You and Gerri are both general counsel for Waystar, so you work closely. You *have been working closely. She comes over and sits in one of the chairs you have set in front of your desk, dropping some files onto your desk.
“What’s got you grumpy?” she asks, watching you give the papers a quick once-over. You sigh before you respond.
“I’m sorry,” you repeat. “Bad start to the morning. I got stood up on a date.” You quickly sign where you need to sign, your gaze flickering between her and the papers. Her eyes stay trained on you, and you can tell she’s turning some thoughts over in her head. “Nothing to say to that?”
She gives a light scoff. “I mean, I could say a myriad of things, but my job is to make you feel better, not worse.”
You set your pen down. “How sweet,” you say sarcastically.
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that.” She gathers the papers for you and tucks them back to the beige file. “I’m only teasing. I’m sorry, really.” She opens her mouth to say something, but then decides against it and gives you a tight-lipped smile. She gets to her feet and makes her way back to the door. But she changes her mind again, quickly turning around and going to sit back down in front of you. “Um, this is highly inappropriate, but it would be remiss of me if I didn’t even try. I owe it to myself.” You look up from your laptop, shifting your attention solely to her. “If it would make you feel better, I’ve been meaning on asking you out to dinner. Romantically.”
The heat rushes to your face. In all honesty, you would’ve never thought that Gerri would like you at all. But now that she’s admitted it, a swirling cloud of emotions rises to your chest. Deep down, you’ve always thought she was attractive. You just thought that since there was a small age gap between the two of you, she’d never even think of it. But you find that you’re glad you were wrong.
“I think I’d like that,” you say truthfully, catching her by surprise. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, leaving the two of you to just sit, stare, and blush at each other. It’s as if she didn’t expect you to reciprocate any sort of feelings. She smiles softly to herself- at you, rather, before she gets up.
“Could we… go tonight, maybe? There’s a nice place up the street I’ve been meaning to try. I’ve just been waiting for the right company.”
You smile back up at her. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”
And that was that.
The two of you walk to the restaurant. It’s not far from the office, just as she’d said. The two of you spend a majority of the first half of the date just smiling shyly, unable to tear your gazes from each other.
You laugh through the rest of the date. Your personalities mesh together so well, and you find yourself growing less and less nervous the more time you spend with her.
“I hope you’re still not thinking about this morning,” she tells you, staring down into her drink, small smile still on her face.
“Don’t worry, I’m not,” you reply. “I have my sights set on someone else now.”
“Well, for what it’s worth…” She trails off, looking up at you. “I wouldn’t stand you up.”
You bite your lip, suppressing a massive grin. “You think we could test that theory?”
“I’ve always enjoyed science,” she says back, eyes not leaving yours.
“So I’ll see you for breakfast tomorrow? At my place?”
“You will.”
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Where I Belong Series
Summary: Let’s get small glimpses of Eddie, Salem and Fox’s daily lives. No order required, read it as you wish.
Pairings: Eddie Kingston x Fox (reader), Salem (daughter)
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When Fox starts doubting her self worth, Salem comes to the rescue and tell Eddie what is really going on in the Kingston’s household.
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Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @eddie-kingstons-wifey
Salem knew you would never tell what was going on to Eddie, that’s why she decided to take matters into her own hands.
She peeked out her bedroom window to make sure you weren’t home yet before taking the steps down to her father’s “man cave” in the basement.
Eddie was lifting some weights when Salem sat on his armchair and turned off the stereo.
“Girl, I was listening to that!”
“We need to talk” Salem crossed her arms in front of her chest as she stared at her father’s sweaty face.
“And what is so important to say that you dragged your 17-year-old ass down here to turn off my music when I finally gathered the courage to work out this week?”
“Your wife”
“What about your mom?”
“Did you know she set up an appointment with a plastic surgeon for next Thursday?”
Eddie almost choked on his water after hearing Salem’s question. “No, I did not. Why would your mom hide that from me? That makes no sense- Hang on, how the fuck do you know that?”
“I heard her on the phone yesterday morning”
“Girl, what did I tell you about eavesdropping?”
“Don’t get caught” Salem stated nonchalantly “Which I didn’t”
“Yeah, that too. But don’t do it in the family, damn it!”
“So you don’t want to know why mom called the plastic surgeon then?” Your daughter threw the bait and watched the curiosity slowly creeping into Eddie’s features.
He sighed heavily and dropped the dumbbell on the floor before sitting down on the weight bench. “Shoot”
“She wants to put on silicone. She thinks she looks unattractive and a new set of boobs will somehow make her feel better about herself again. It’s a bunch of bullshit if you ask me, it’s all that old hag’s fault! We ran into Mrs. Davis at the grocery store last week and the woman kept whining about how her husband had found himself a young mistress with a brand new set of tiddies. She then told Mom she couldn’t understand how Mom could trust you since you’re on the road all the time, and I quote, ‘with all of those young women with perky breasts, generous backsides, and thin waists. Honestly, darling, we both know your husband is quite a man - even with his rough manners - it’s the thug appeal as some people call it. Frankly, it baffles me how you’re still together, and faithfully I hope, after all these years!’. Needless to say that the old bitch’s words got into mom’s head”
“That dusty old slut had the nerve to say that to your mom? What the fuck is her problem?! My wife is gorgeous! She needs no plastic surgery! I swear to god If I see that woman…I’ll smack her on sight!”
“No wonder Mr. Davis got a new mistress, that woman is insufferable! She’s determined to make everyone’s life a living hell, Dad. She convinced Mrs. Ashton to file for divorce!”
Eddie’s eyes widened in shock. Pamela Ashton was the mother of Salem’s childhood best friend: Lily. You and Eddie have known Pamela and Benny for over 20 years now, their marriage was stable and happy, with 2 kids and a successful business. Eddie can’t remember ever hearing them fighting; both Pam and Benny had talked with Eddie many times in the past in regards to his marriage. They always counseled him and put some sense back into his head after his nerves got the best out of him and he said something stupid to you. Benny was the one who helped Eddie set up the surprise second marriage proposal at Luigi’s restaurant, and Pam was responsible to convince you to go there and listen to him. Eddie knew how much they loved each other and therefore knew they would be the last couple on earth to file for divorce.
“Why did Pam file for divorce?”
“Because Mrs. Devil pulled the same stunt she did with Mom! Except she didn’t hold back because Mrs. Ashton was alone. She was using Mr. Ashton’s new secretary as her excuse. Lily tried to convince her mom to not listen to that old bitch but she had poisoned Mrs. Ashton’s mind already”
“But why did she believe it?! Benny loves her, he’s crazy for her! He wouldn’t have an affair, that’s bullshit!” Eddie threw the empty water bottle into the trash can as Salem sighed.
“You men don’t understand, do you? You guys get old and you get praised for it! People say you look more attractive, more appealing, more charming. Aging wears men so well, your wrinkles are a signature of attractiveness but it’s not the same for women! God forbid if we ever age! People expect us to look 23 even when we reach 54. We have to battle time, wrinkles, and aging, we’re not allowed to have a natural body or be happy with how it looks because guess what? Women are supposed to look fit as fuck 24/7, even after they gave birth. We’re supposed to meet stupid beauty standards because otherwise we’re taught that we’ll get dumped and replaced like a used rag if we don’t! There’ll always be someone prettier, younger, sexier, hotter that we have to constantly overcome to still be considered good enough of a woman. That’s why Mrs. Ashton filed for divorce because she couldn’t stand the thought of her husband of over 20 years replacing her with a younger woman. After all, Mrs. Ashton already wore her best years with her husband” Salem stood up from the armchair and walked closer to the stairs before looking back at her father “That’s why mom is looking for plastic surgery, dad. Because the idea of losing you is too much for her to bear. She’s scared that your love for her has died along with her youth. You don’t notice it, but she’s been on the edge for weeks now. Look, Dad, I know you don’t mean it, ok…but you take Mom for granted, you always have, and there comes a time when a person can’t take it anymore. Sometimes we just want to be valued by the person we love. Sometimes we just want to be seen for who we are and who we became over time”.
Salem watched as tears rolled down Eddie’s face, he sniffled once and nodded “Thank you for telling me, chickadee”
“No problem. Just don’t make me regret it, old man” She teased with a sad smile “I’m going to Lily��s for the night, gonna sleep there, ok?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure” Eddie stood up from the weight bench and laid a kiss on Salem’s hair “Be careful, and text me when you get there. I love you”
“I love you too, Dad”.
It was past 8 pm when you got home, the lights were off and you frowned at the quietness as you closed the front door.
“Sae? Eddie?” You called but didn’t get a response. Checking your phone to see if there were any missing calls, you found there was only one unread text from Salem:
Sae 👶: At Lily’s, gonna sleep here. Already told Dad and he gave the ok. See ya tomorrow. Love you xo.
You tossed your coat on the couch with a loud sigh “Looks like I’m alone again…As always”.
Of your daughter’s whereabouts you knew of, but your husband was nowhere to be found. Eddie didn’t pick up his phone nor answer your texts, he had nothing planned with either Mox or Monkey. Ruby also didn’t hear from him, and you knew it because you had called all of them on the way home, like a desperate wife trying to track down her cheating husband.
“I sound like a fucking fool. What a dumbass you are, Y/N. Really, how blind can you be?!” Murmuring to yourself you made your way up the stairs to your bedroom, only stopping by the hallway to retrieve a picture of you and Eddie from your dating era. You couldn’t help but smile at the picture.
Mox had taken it after your first double date, Eddie was sitting on the pull-out trunk of Moxley’s truck with you standing between his legs, he hugged you tightly from behind, chin resting on your shoulder with a big smile on his face. He had given you his denim jacket because you forgot your coat at his place. His hands rested on your hips, and you also had a huge smile on your face. Eddie had placed his white bandana on your head because he claimed you looked “extra cute" with it, but deep down you knew it was because this was his way of letting everyone know you were with him.
You both looked happy, incredibly happy, young, and free, with a fresh relationship and completely in love. It was then that you wondered when it had all changed. When did you become the distrustful wife and Eddie became the careless husband?
A single tear dropped on the picture frame’s glass, smudging the background of your love story. Your head lifted at the scent of cinnamon vanilla as you entered your bedroom.
“What’s going on?” You asked meekly, once your eyes spotted the several candles lighting up the bedroom. Eddie was dressed in one of his baggy dark jeans and a blue and white striped button-up shirt, holding a bouquet of red roses.
“Why are you crying, fox? What happened?” He quickly walked towards you. Eddie’s hand cupped your cheek and worry set upon his green eyes “You’re ok?”
“Yeah, I was just thinking…”
“Thinking about what, foxy?”
“I…I don’t know” You whispered back “What’s all this about?”
Eddie knew better than to push you to say something you weren't prepared to speak of yet, so he brushed the subject to the side before smiling softly “It’s been ages since we had some time for ourselves as a couple, so I thought why not enjoy it? Chickadee is gonna be at Lily’s until tomorrow, and I wanna enjoy the night with my beautiful wife. We deserve to have our time as a couple too, and not just as our daughter’s parents”.
You smiled and took the large bouquet in your hands “They’re beautiful, thank you”
“You’re beautiful! You’re still as gorgeous as the day we first met. And I’m even more madly in love with you now than I was when Mox took this picture” Eddie pulled the picture frame away from your grasp and placed it on top of the dresser.
“It’s always been you, fox. You were the woman I chose back then, you are the woman I choose today, and you will be the woman I’ll choose tomorrow. You’re my forever, the woman I fell in love with, the woman who taught me so much, the woman who gave me a child, a family, the only woman I’ll always want, always choose, always need, it’s you. No matter where we are or how old we are, it’ll always be you. Not even the hot nurses from the nursing home will be able to replace you, and even when they change my diapers I’ll tell them to not look too much because all of that belongs to you” Eddie joked making you chuckle against his lips “You’re so ridiculous”
He kissed you slowly, the type of kiss you hadn’t shared in months. Slow, passionate, needy, addicting.
“Salem told you about the doctor, didn’t she? I suspected she was listening to the call, she’s not as slick as she thinks” You asked once Eddie pulled back to caress your face.
“Yeah, she did. And no, that’s not the reason why I’m doing this. Chickadee told me a few things that made me realize how I was treating you, and that’s not what I want you to think, that I don’t appreciate you, love you, or don’t feel attracted to you because trust me, that’s not it! You’re a beautiful woman and you do turn me on, foxy!”
“You don't want me to have new boobs then?”
“Depends. If you want to put them on because you want them and it will make you happy then yes, I do want you to put them on. But if you’re doing it for me or because of what that old bitch said to you, then no, I don’t want you to put it on. You’re gorgeous, perfect, hot as fuck, and I love you like this, with the that body you have. But if you want to put on some new titties because it’ll make you happy and feel better about yourself, I fully support you. We’ll go to the doctor’s appointment together and see what he has to say”
“But you don’t mind if I don’t do it?”
“No, foxy. I don’t mind it at all! I love what you have, I’m more than happy with it. Completely satisfied” Eddie’s hands cupped your breasts through your shirt “I love the feeling of my natural babies over here” He squeezed your breasts “My fox is so perfect. Fuck, baby, I’m getting hard just from thinking about the things I want to do with you”
You smiled widely, placing the bouquet on the dresser by the picture frame before leaning forward and nibbling Eddie’s sensitive jawline “So what are you waiting for, Kingston?”
“Oh foxy, foxy” Eddie purred before pushing you down on the bed.
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crimsonedquill · 1 year
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Lost Love Pt. 2 (Ominis Gaunt x f!reader)
Tags: some angst, hurt/comfort
By popular demand, I'm back to deliver maximum emotional damage!
So yes, this is a fic to wrap up my previous Sebastian x jealous f!reader angst post (which I didn't expect to return to tbf!). Like I mentioned previously, making my foray into writing sebby content has been fun, but I'm going to try to focus on other characters for a bit now. (Will still do HCs and drabbles for him, though)
Thanks for all the love and positive feedback 🖤
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The funeral of Solomon Sallow was attended by just three – Anne, Ominis, and you. Anne had first insisted on doing it all by herself, though you were glad Ominis had been able to convince her otherwise, seeing as she was in no fit state to bear this alone.
You held her as she paid her last respects. She placed a black rose on the freshly dug soil before turning her tear-streaked face to Ominis. “Ominis, would you…”
“Of course,” Ominis said, inclining his head. He stepped forward and drew a deep breath, taking a moment to find the right words before he proceeded. “Solomon Sallow was… flawed, like any one of us. He was a man of great passion and conviction, and his ways could often be brash and fiery. But let us not mistake his gruffness for malice, for his love for his kin knew no bounds. His every action was driven by a deep and abiding desire to protect and care for those he held dear. Let us find comfort in the knowledge that he died as he lived, standing between his family and adversity.”
He stepped back and the three of you stood in silence, the only sound coming from the wind blowing over the small hill. As Anne leaned her head on your shoulder to cry, you felt the familiar onset of doubt consume you. Part of you wished Sebastian was there with you, though you couldn’t say why – was it because you felt he had a right to, or because you wanted him to suffer, to feel the consequences of his deeds? You couldn’t say for certain. These past few days, you’d been experiencing so many emotions that it was often like you weren’t feeling anything at all. You’d give everything for a good cry right now.
After a few minutes, Anne said she was ready to leave and you led her back to the house, Ominis wandering beside you. Once you were inside, the frail girl sank into a chair, clutching her side as she winced. “Thank… thank you both, for everything. I’ll be forever in your debt.”
“Nonsense,” Ominis said. “It’s the least I could have done to repay you for your kindness over the years. I’m sure Y/N feels the same way.”
You nodded. “It’s no trouble at all, Anne. And I just want to say, if you change your mind about leaving –”
The Sallow girl shook her head resolutely. “I know you worry, but I need to do this. There’s nothing left for me here, and… I don’t know if I’ll ever find it in my heart to forgive my brother for what he’s done. I just need to get away and think for a very long time.”
“Know that you can always write us if you’re ever in need of counsel, or anything at all really,” Ominis said. “Please take good care of yourself, Anne.”
Anne nodded softly, and the two of you said your goodbyes. You were grateful for the breeze of fresh air once you stepped outside, though it did little to loosen the iron glove tightly closed around your heart.
“You did well back there,” you said to Ominis. “Those were beautiful words.”
“I hope it gave her some comfort, at the very least. Though if I were to be fully honest, nothing about this feels right.”
“I’ll say. You think she’ll be all right?”
“I do,” he answered, his voice lacking scepticism to your relief. “She’s stronger than she appears. Now, tell me, how are you feeling?”
You shuffled your feet, not even daring to meet his empty gaze. “I’m not certain it matters how I’m feeling at the moment.”
“It matters to me. Just because Anne chooses to bear this on her own does not mean that you have to as well. We only have each other to rely on now, it would be foolish to squander that –”
It happened within a matter of seconds. You hadn’t meant to kiss him; the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. Yet before you could even process what was happening, you could feel Ominis’ lips touching yours, a maelstrom of thoughts and feelings scrambling your mind. Both of your breaths were heavy when you pulled apart.
You were the first to speak up: “I… I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have done that –”
“We shouldn’t have,” he agreed. “But I… I think I understand. You must feel confused about a lot of things right now.”
“I do, but that shouldn’t be an excuse. Let’s just… forget about this and head back to the castle, all right?”
He agreed. You didn’t bring up the subject again on your way back, though you noticed how your eyes kept drifting off to look at his profile. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were thinking; that somehow, it had felt right.
— — —
You had not seen Sebastian ever since Professor Weasley had excused him from his regular schedule to give him time to mourn his uncle, though this didn’t mean his presence wasn’t hanging over you, like a dark spectre. In fact, the longer the hollow feeling in your chest persisted, the more you became convinced it was stemming from your inability to confront him. You briefly considered asking Ominis to accompany you to see him, but eventually you gathered all of your courage and went to his dorm alone, your heart rapidly beating in your chest when you knocked on the door.
“What do you want?” a bitter voice sounded from inside. You felt something sting, like a needle – he sounded almost like a completely different person. You pushed the door open and stepped inside, finding yourself face to face with Sebastian Sallow – or what was left of him. His hair was unkempt, he had bags under his eyes and his once rosy cheeks had paled to the point where you could almost see through him. It occurred to you that you only now realised what a human shell looked like.
“Y/N!” He stood up from his bed so fast that he knocked over the pile of books sitting next to it. You were thankful for the interruption, if only so you didn’t have to look him in the eye. You picked up one of the books and handed it over to him. “I see you’ve taken up reading again.”
“I never stopped. Anne’s situation hasn’t changed. I can’t give up on her, not now she needs me the most.”
“After everything that happened?” you asked, trying not to sound too scornful. “You do realise that your unbridled pursuit of any means to cure your sister was what led to all this trouble in the first place, right?”
“Of course I do!” he snapped back, his face contorting with anger. “But you honestly can’t expect me to –”
You don’t know what it was that snapped him back to reality, but the gaze in his eyes suddenly softened, and he sank onto the bed as he scratched his head. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to shout at you.”
You sighed, shaking your head. “You need to give yourself time to grieve. All of this, the guilt you’re bearing – you might not want to admit it, but it’s consuming you.”
“No,” he said, beginning to ramble again. “No, I can’t. Anne is depending on me. I must –”
“Sebastian.” You were surprised at the power in your own voice, as was he. “Listen to me. Your sister is leaving.”
“Leaving?” He looked at you in confusion. “To where?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere far away from Feldcroft.”
“But… I don’t understand.” The sudden panic in his voice made you swallow, though you tried to keep a straight face. “How can – why hasn’t she told me anything?”
“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” you said icily. “She can’t bear the thought of her own brother being a murderer, Sebastian. That’s why. She doesn’t want to face you because she isn’t sure she will ever be able to forgive you for what happened.”
The rising tension in the air was palpable as you stood there, waiting for his response. You watched him, trying to read his face for any signs that reality was dawning on him, but what had once been second nature to you now seemed like an impossible task. Your heart sank as you saw his features hardening, darkness returning to his eyes.
“This was Ominis, wasn’t it?” he asked. “He put her up to this.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “After all this, your only response is to blame your friend?” you asked, not knowing whether to be mad or shocked.
“Some ‘friend’,” Sebastian seethed. “He’s been against me right from the beginning. Pretending to care, just to stab me in the back in the end.”
“He lied just so you wouldn’t have to go to Azkaban for what you did!” you yelled.
“And I suppose I ought to be grateful? Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t need his sympathies – and the same goes for you.”
At last, you felt something inside you giving away, perhaps the last piece of the wall between your lingering feelings and the rising tide of anger that had been consuming you for weeks. When you spoke, your voice was steady, but chillingly cold. “You should know that I dreaded facing you today. I was terrified of seeing my friend hurting like this – the boy who’d always been watching over me since I was little, who never once hesitated to stand up for me even if it got him into trouble. The boy who I knew I cared much more for than a friend, even though I never dared confess that to him, because our companionship was dearer to me than my personal feelings. But I think I’ll rest a whole lot easier now that I know that person is gone. Goodbye, Sebastian.”
You left without giving him an opportunity to respond. Tears were burning in the corners of your eyes, and by the time you had reached your own dorm they were flowing freely, spilling memories of a dead past.
— — —
It was practically a miracle that you managed to pass most of your O.W.L.s after everything that had transpired in the last couple of weeks, though you mostly credited it to Sebastian slowly disappearing from your mind. Ominis and you had helped each other through it, studying together until late in the evening and questioning each other at breakfast, and at last your letters arrived, informing you both that you had cleared all of your required classes. Now, you found yourself in the Slytherin common room, chuckling to yourself as you watched a mildly intoxicated Imelda standing on a table with a mug of Butterbeer in her hand, leading the crowd in chanting house songs. You quietly left for some fresh air, spotting a familiar face out on the viaduct.
“Good evening,” you smiled as you approached Ominis. “The choice of music tonight wasn’t to your liking?”
“That was supposed to be music?” he retorted.
You chuckled as you stood next to him, leaning against the short wall. It was a beautiful night out, the light of a bright moon dancing on the ripples of the quiet lake. You were content to just stand there without saying anything, but then he spoke up: “I heard you spoke to Sebastian. I chose not to bring it up because I didn’t want you to be distracted, but –”
“Please, can we just not –” You sighed before recollecting yourself. “I just… I want to stop thinking about him. He’s made his choices and I’ve made my peace with that.”
He turned his head slightly in your direction. “Have you?”
“I thought I could save him, that there was something I could say to get him to change, to see the error of his ways… but then I realised that I was just feeding into my own delusion. I care about him, and I still think that I would give him my forgiveness if he sincerely asked for it, but his burden isn’t mine to carry. He needs to find his way out of this on his own. And I need to think about my own future as well.”
He was silent for a moment, as if to weigh your words. You noticed you were slightly nervous to hear his judgement, but he simply nodded. “I feel the same way. The best course of action for us to take right now is to focus on our own healing, lest we’re doomed to repeat the mistakes that led us here.”
You looked at your feet. “I’ve been giving all of it a great deal of thought lately. Some things more than others.”
“Such as?”
“What a potential future could look like, for you, and me.” You felt a familiar warmth in your stomach. You’d never paid much attention to it, but you had to admit Ominis was quite handsome, his almost noble features illuminated by the pale moonlight. “I was hesitant to bring it up because I feared I was simply looking for consolation after Sebastian… but then I realised there is more to it than that. You’ve always cared for me, Ominis. I wouldn’t blame you for desiring to stay friends after everything that happened, but I want to be candid about my feelings… this time.”
You took a deep, shivering breath. “I think I’m in love with you.”
He didn’t reply at first, clearly taken slightly aback by your confession. Then he leaned forward and easily found your lips, as if his blindness wasn’t a hindrance at all. He gently cupped your cheek as you kissed, his other hand reaching down to hold yours, squeezing it to put you at ease, to offer you the comfort of his warmth.
Eventually, he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours.
“I don’t know where this will lead us,” he said. “But I would very much like to find out.”
“I’d like that too,” you smiled.
— — —
“Will you write to me?”
You had to slightly raise your voice to avoid being drowned out by the noise coming from the locomotive and the excited chatter of the students around you. Ominis smiled, reaching out his hand as an invitation for you to grab it. You took it, rubbing his palm with your thumb.
“Of course I will,” he assured you. “Every day, if need be.”
You stood on your toes to press a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” you replied, thankfulness sounding through in your voice, “for being patient with me. I’ll admit I was afraid, but –”
“You owe me no explanation,” he replied. “I simply wish the best for you. We can take as long as you need.”
You chuckled. “Where did you learn to be such a gentleman?”
“There are some secrets I cannot divulge, even to you, my dearest. Now, you should probably be on your way.”
“Yeah, probably…” You took his other hand, the thought of letting him go paining your heart. You looked into his pale eyes. “I’ll miss you, Ominis.”“We will be seeing each other again before you know it,” he said. And as you once again closed your eyes and felt his lips against yours, you felt safe, knowing that somehow, everything would be all right.
— — —
“We’re here,” the coachman announced. Sebastian muttered a quick thanks before stepping off, pulling up his hood to shield himself from the rain. After the coach departed, he turned around and began to walk toward the lone house in the distance.
He had meant to say goodbye to them. He’d been practising it in his head for days – what to say, how to best put his thoughts on everything that happened. How to convey his sincerity when he apologised for everything he’d put them through. He wouldn’t have expected them to forgive him right away, but he had at least hoped it could be their first step on their long way to healing.
He’d changed his mind and left as soon as he had seen them share a kiss.
It wasn’t that he was upset, or mad at them. If any, he would say he had been more or less expecting her to turn to Ominis after what he’d done to her. Still, he regretted that it had taken the sight of his best friends finding comfort in each other for him to finally get a sense of the damage he had inflicted. They were all gone now – his uncle, Anne, his friends. Driven away, all by his own fault.
Had it been worth it? Had it been worth chasing after false hope, burning everything he had held dear?
He opened the door. His feet crossed the threshold, leaving muddy puddles on the floor. His footsteps echoed through the silence, the sole sound in a space devoid of life.
He was alone.
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The counsellor I saw yesterday works from her home and she’s about a 30 minute drive from my house. I didn’t get any choice in who I saw, the organisation literally just texted me an appointment time and an address. I think because it’s free through my employer, and I’d said I wanted face to face not over the phone, maybe that limits where there’s availability. Anyway I don’t mind the drive, it gives me a bit of space to think, and it keeps it nice and separate from home.
I found her address and parked outside, and walked through her big front garden to the front door, which had a sign saying “use the back door”. So I wandered round to the back and was just wondering which of the various doors I was meant to go to (there were a couple of garden buildings as well as the house), when she opened the back door and welcomed me in.
Her counselling area is just inside the back door. A bit like a conservatory although I don’t think it was. She showed me where to sit and she sat the other side of the plastic screen and I was a bit like woah this isn’t very friendly. Not a fan of that. She made a bit of small talk about whether I’d found the house ok etc and then we moved on to the reason I was there. I basically just ranted for 50 minutes… tried to explain everything that happened although I doubt whether she could follow all the details as there’s four different social workers involved, three different foster children and two separate adoptions. So a lot to make sense of, but she probably got the gist.
I think I feel afterwards like she was a bit too nice. I guess it was just a first session and we are still getting to know each other and she’s just listening and not challenging. But she basically just agreed with everything I said, and nodded and empathised and said to think about what a great job I’d done for the children and to hell with the social workers. I have friends that can tell me that. Then she said oh we’re running out of time, and I was like, oh how long even is the session? I couldn’t see a clock anyway so I’d no idea.
I think we went about 10 minutes over as she got me to fill in a well being questionnaire, and then she said she’d show me a technique to engage my logical brain with my emotional brain when I was thinking about all this situation. She talked me through doing bilateral tapping with my fingers on my legs… I’m a little bit sceptical but I’ll give it a shot. She’s away now for a few weeks (great timing huh) so my next appointment isn’t till the end of November. I can have 6 sessions, and then if we need more she can apply for another 6 I think. I hope it’s going to help. We also spoke briefly about my dad because I just wanted to get that on her radar too, but there wasn’t time to open anything up about that.
I can’t remotely imagine getting attached to her at the moment. Which is fine, I am not here for that. T is still occupying the My Person space, even though she isn’t my person in a therapeutic way anymore. Maybe it’s that my internalised model of T is My Person now, so really I’ve become my own person… is that a thing?
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milkywaygg · 1 year
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Baby Don’t Go Epilogue
AN: Cute little epilogue that I hadn’t thought of at the time, but thought it would be a cute little ending and see how Miguel’s thoughts had changed now that Linnie’s taking care of Luna. I believe the rest of the story is posted onto here, but I’ll reblog a link later if needed. For now, enjoy. 
A few weeks later, Miguel had finally gotten the proper rest he deserved and was back to his office job in the garbage company, occasionally working the trucks again as people called out. Once Miguel had finished with his recovery, he and Yolonda sat down and booked their first marriage counseling appointment, and for the first time in almost 3 months, Yolonda gave him a small smile that made his heart flutter.
“Thank you for agreeing to do this with me, Miguel. I think it will be good for us. Figure out where we stand next.”, Yolonda said quietly as the two sat in the living room together, just like the old times.
‘Yolonda…”, Miguel started, unsure of what to say, “Do you….still love me? You know that I will never love Nora the same way that I love you, right?”
Yolonda was silent for a moment as she stared at Miguel. As much as she wanted to jump back into his arms and pretend as if the last 3 months didn’t happen, she also hesitated for a good while. Remembering how nasty Nora was with Linnie, Yolonda wasn’t sure what would happen if she immediately forgave Miguel. She knew that she and her husband didn’t always see eye to eye, and was confident that more conflicts were to arise.
“I-I think so yes. We’ve been together for almost 50,000 years after all. I mean, that’s a hell of a lot more than what Nora and Linnie could say. Poor man, I hope he’s ok.”, Yolonda muttered the last part of herself, noticing Miguel staring off into space for a quick second, “Miguel?”
“Hmm?”
“You thinking about that baby?”
“What no?! I gave her up, didn’t I? I’m not concerned about no baby.”, Miguel said unconvincingly, as Yolonda smirked slightly.
“Come on. Don’t tell me the daddy instincts hadn’t kicked in. Surely, you care somewhat. I mean, you were pretty hell-bent on making sure Linnie doesn’t abuse this child.”
“Yeah well I mean, that’s what a decent person does, doesn’t he? Even if I hadn’t know this child, I wouldn’t give her up to some predator.”, Miguel exclaimed, taking out his phone and opening up Linnie’s contact information, “But…I guess it wouldn’t hurt to check up on the little one. See how she and Linnie are getting along.”
   After getting the approval and new address from Linnie, Miguel poofed out of the mansion after telling Yolonda he’d be back after a while, promising no bar visits on the way to or back. The street he teleported too wasn’t nearly as nice as the old neighborhood the Cosmas had previously moved in, wih some street lamps flickering and a few bars not too far his designated building. However, given Linnie’s financial situation, Miguel had no choice but to give Linnie the benefit of the doubt.
He entered a tall, pink building, which was nicely cleaned and kept compared to the rest of the block. The receptionist guided him onto the 7th floor in front of door 701, where Linnie had said was where he was living now. Miguel smiled softly as he knocked the door, hearing baby squeals and soft cooing from a man. Hearing the baby’s laughing get a little louder, Linnie had opened the door, smiling as he held Luna, who flapped her baby wings excitedly.
“Hi there. How are you? Come in.”, Linnie urged gently, as he tightened his grasp onto Luna, “Alright honey, we’re not ready to fly just yet. Maybe when you’re older.”
“Linnie uh…nice place you got here. Kinda girly for my taste, but eh..”, Miguel shrugged as he looked around. He was pleased to see that the apartment was much cleaner than the night he had visited Nora at the Cosmas’s old house. The room was mostly pink with a darker pink floor, a soft couch, and tv in the living room. The kitchen was also clean as well; not a single whiskey or wine bottle in sight but rather, a few baby bottles rested on the counters and a high chair was placed near the dinner table. Linnie put Luna down in the baby seat next to the couch and urged Miguel to sit down.
“So…how have things been? I’m not interrupting, am I?”, Miguel asked awkwardly, as the baby kept looking at him funny.
“Oh no, not at all dear. I just got finished feeding Luna her dinner.”
“Luna, huh? Is that what you call her?”
“Mhm!”, Linnie squeaked, taking a seat in between Luna and Miguel, smiling widely as she played with the toys that hung above the rocker. Miguel watches as Linnie’s heart melted right in front of him.
“Well, I won’t take up too much of your time. I just wanted to check and see how things are going with you and…and Luna.”, Miguel said.
“You know, I’m surprised you’ve come as early as you did. I didn’t expect you to care way until she started to ask who her real parents were.”
“I-I mean yeah…I dunno what’s gotten into me. I guess, I just wanted to make sure Luna is ok, you know. You’re a good person, but I can’t help but worry sometimes.”
“I understand. I’m sure if it were under different circumstances, you would have loved Luna with every ounce of magic in your body.”, Linnie said gently, rocking Luna’s rocker slightly.
“Speaking of, have you heard from Nora lately? I’m surprised she hadn’t tried to blow our phones up, trying to get rid of her or something stupid.”
“Well…”, Linnie said nervously, “Well I’m not sure if you heard, but she’s…no longer around.”
“What do you mean?”
“She overdosed on whiskey a few weeks after I moved out and when Darren had moved out of my place and died in a magic accident.”, Linnie said softly, “I was sad about it for a little while until I realized that it meant that she wouldn’t be around to harass my baby.”
Miguel’s heart stopped briefly as Linnie called Luna ‘his baby’. Despite all those months believing that he wanted nothing to do with the child, and regardless of all the legalities, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat hurt that the baby that came out of him was someone else’s. Yet, as he watched Linnie continue to rock Luna gently in her rocker, he also sighed a brief of relief, knowing that he made the right decision.
“You really love her, don’t you Linnie?”
“Oh yes. With all my heart.”, Linnie said, wiping tears from his eyes, “I really want to thank you again to allowing me to be a part of her life and…I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?”
“I’m sorry for being so pushy during those 3 months. I’m sure you were constantly stressed out and unsure of what to do, and I wasn’t helping by making you feel guilty. I really did want what was best for Luna, but I wasn’t really thinking about what’s best for you. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah well…ain’t nothing we can do to fix the past now is there? All we can do is move forward.”, Miguel shrugged, hearing Luna start to get a bit fussy. Linnie picked Luna up in his arms gently and rocker her softly, cuddling her, and shushing her as he rubbed her back, Luna’s wings twitching slightly.
“Do you want to hold her?’, Linnie asked, and though Miguel initially distanced himself and hesitated, he finally opened his arms as Linnie placed Luna inside of them. With the baby in his arms, Miguel finally got a good, long look at what Luna looked like. She had purple hair and eyes, which possibly came from his pink and Nora’s blue, and had purple, straight hair to match. She also had a slight tan, looking almost like Yolonda in a way. However, Luna had some slight curls on the ends of her hair that were undoubtedly Nora’s. After holding her fo some time, Luna started to giggle a bit before falling asleep, prompting Linnie to take Luna back.
“Awww someone’s sleepy. I guess I should take the darling to bed.”, Linnie said, getting up. Miguel followed suit as he smiled at the two fairies.
“Well, I’ll be off then. Let me know when Luna becomes of age. I’d like to be there when you tell her the truth.”
“Of course”
With that, Miguel watched as Linnie hummed a lullaby and placed Luna down in her crib before leaving apartment 701, knowing fully well that Luna was in good hands.
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libidomechanica · 2 months
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Then being praise
A sonnet sequence
                Better come again. Said he ow said she a lot said all, and with thy sweet maid, cool’d a longer sunset, before his own skin, her hands beneath the brave, Achilles; of which once-named myriads nameless, and wakened by dinner; presence. The word is like and pious in a trice; the yellow woods; now cleft with more should fain be well addrest. Which she viewless song; long stains of Don Juan, like seas chanted joy, going westward view until I get a nod. Around there was a cod: i’ll no gang to me all which to see him as the foot, watches. Perplex— variety is smoke on the morn.
                Not what I quite tower’d Camel rode, yet has her song, in this brown parts maintained her sire’s safety in a gracious fronds. Pen can overwrought: so you mayst proves in its for the only almanack. Not till is lost in degree, his dead picture. Kings are laid and, pledging Jove; as he, that power the colour of untended breathe there’s a factitious as the victorye? And, heaven! And came like, there’s own shore, but to lived too well—long, that is locked tight. Of her long years—the bed-side, which Darcy and kissing sound of the unquiet break and tree, as him mad! Down in the spheres the sea and the rest.
                Ye goatherd gods, their hand, thee to meet no buzz’d whisper its little isle imbowers star’d, wherein is enchanting a dark where’er could but revelry, but there. The thought what a joy tis not one or less thrice none but a sex. Wherein was for ane an’ twenty, Tam! And he was gone, from its bright, as thought, hey ho pinching helm beside here all rich attire creed and moan forth the arrowe, ne can dawn at zero,—lo coach, charioted by, deadcold, and others held as a coal; and shalt ycrouned by the head, be for port, ere leaves before me, I clasp’d like a brook from its fury overcharge.
                Vastness oft that cloth, and smutty jest, to the old fellow; in fact, he wite thorn blowe you? Night; but yet forests, turning after battles today, let thy name, His prayed by our face without knows he making of the Pole’s no man of bison still their bower- eaves, and wide; the winter come down; thus to stop. Bent, the branches the passionate as Sappho, I will be back to them they pick’d old dame, to witnesse, shee string set; her who say strange exclaiming musk-rose, and wings to keep them cruell Death. As down, its true, is always is come from its found with my hands and sleep to that than a humdrum tete-a-tete. Nothing nearest; or form sweets perspire, by your lies, but the leave us much said he, too deeply, beginners hang from its break and joys of Constant as a cotter, plaiting, to shelter wars of esteem, where; follow her; but disturb your overswear they’ve taught delight, was another nine of you.
                Snarling? I’ll learn how a mystic Shape did fail, proof makes of knot-grass, and choral wall: others, little maid replaced or unpleasant valleys. Of a greatly please—a most adorings given vp for speedingly name not entertaineth. To this rosary, as the way. For someone steps, ere thee, and neare this herd, to this debut, which is mantle hamlets, with those brown partridges! Man lovest! And then doth given thus gentle hearse. But evenfall, in the head, and the race, he in pity wine, Which was more will morn Hath travel, unless I never seems the first yet for ane an’ twenty, Tam.
                From the Treasure to see em, but never weary, unless I will spare for ever thy noble roundless it will seek the progress of desire my sister and there by slow her! In earth enfolds, I lookt in a circle and I cannot chanced in rain. Oh stay, thread’s spun out between the grot, which no doubts; the treasure the same, because I call to her breath; of those year them: they should say with seal’d eye scann’d her word; put up your eyes fix’d, as nature is not made when requests were boughs, but was ere Abolition; gaze on my breast. As rarely they stand my life’s blissfully hardly difference clanks.
                Wars of thy Throne ascending me all damps and the counsell can make, if proved the clear; the lily lie round her sweeter than all my toils might and dig deep of the slave to undo me, if thou must be—yes. Several strictures sends indescription can apprehend dumb harmonies due they were the gay, in diapers read? In russet jacket for thee, far, far beyond the past to the singers done, the blossom, as understands: not Pallas: Hebe shame. Where to grieved here is no great tactician, or shame, nor meant by this shot him flower inscrutable the manorial rails: while the day come, perchance!
                But, in the elements, opening when Salámán to his past prime, young virgins, the little late. Of bores, whose least his lady’s quiet she prima donna’, bright seek what I found in pedigree told of sin; She final room. Tis all at once may have no means in the ballads in her pillow. When we tendency of burning had brought me, hopes undone,—the Dragon from Livorno by turns had despaire hate thrown doe-skin. More taught renew the chill. When Juan’s the place to money, crown my love, the Topic over the plains of Sweet to sally if one of the corn wav’d green-sheathed pearls are pour’d flood.
                Adorn the bed’s sheathed daffadillies going on her, yet was once the old man’s art becomes riding, up to the day, rosebud of his race, by meadow, and proved dangers rude man but passe they were resolved to add; and still the precious evidence that neither. Mark how the soil beneath tonight I was an odd male, and listening days: and count the blaze, coming together hand, on its nameless fellow, but instead of the Pelegrini, within a singly flower image through-in my attic begins to discovery’s date, and thought toll; nothing? Nothing in July—some gentle swain?
                And this velvet coat; when he least his lamp of heart, finding which I and the luver’s light, taking planned, I hung with despite of Empires and proud humility. To her long embrace, whose earliest aspects may ache in pieces shine; sternly denied, sleeping dream? There is no noisier. Take her breast, but dares, unless I will his by him; and touch, those sad eies I the damsel and slide, my brow he stood the hollow her. I think thee hence, only three shores before meets she hurried and lower with her bleakness our last war, that vanish; why should make likes a game; save chose to his own mischaunce.
                Hey ho the file of Beauty and old days of gravity; he reverence could never found in pedigree told of virtues of the views, like a tent, and the wild that gave ground the pursues the sky but fix’d upon my eyes serue him where lay in his craps and all eyes when the ostler listening what he may run upon their shadowy brook from being her; and sung: the devilish doctrine has not mute, temper’d in his fingertips and pain, as no excellent isle is now all damps and pity drew wine. For Ilion’s funeral-shears, and the unexprest: and from the way she and he heard old beldame sans mercy, Porphyro will teach that the Farmer’s being mighty kings, all enforced, the routs, and kissing, taking left us can their sight, which grows pale, statue- like innocence: in your most most difficult in them fades tears, thou euer sing for his sworn to thyself laid open at Stonehenge.
                Of love who came from your magic power and spectre seen Love’s ghost away, and a drowsy Morphean amulet! The same heart- shap’d and mellow Room, contends, it self; if thousand me. A hungry asp, the song areede: for I wish there to warp her fingers, wonderful, for aye unsought; the gentle blue skies for peace, leaving when the great name, solution’s pausing, and their extremely taken wing. On her the past their bills, Arcadians scorched with many a sweat or shrine of dull scene, but burst of writing of those to drown’d all enforced, the flinty savage, witch, and her not a world’s the ballad that drop they were set less as thou so deleterious, unless wood of yielded: she, too, let her faces were brief dream of Camelot: and on him, he’d die before that I hope the dread, and all the glist’ning on the red course of their face in that raw and that isle is a face housed under mouths!
                At which erst from my thou dost their extreme very same column is defiled, as if the young man, the gusty tree. Unless when that guide. The bar, in words favour’d; and there upon a holly is dark: the death and bristly bear; a little lacketh Perigot, what the aged many a sources quite a former place, nor known, the skeleton shall doors have no ears to dispense: you are all that … felt like thee, with her chain, and joy—what is crooked, Bay is lost intense enough there has molded metaphysician, who know eternal flower he said son at column. To a lottery.
                Its love lays upon the slippery rocks, and mirk the sky; and the dreary Fuimus’ of all the wild thyme and fro, riddle, Fame thence my true mistress, or fourth wind is just once that I write, who have punishment of pleased within his training, hears they broke, rather than their deeds; lilies the murmur’d like true, they were billiards; cards, that held out of me, though the Master, to shelter the drear! Because the honied she is no spot, and the radio beating sight or day, and the very casual thou so deleterious quills, when I do smell, of the market of the shining, while I, with the yellow.
                The last did refrain because you lying. Invented should speak with the charm. Like a midnight have scope, more the way. And thus her Jason; but it was by the taper as she in piece give gentle Spaniard was gentlemen in my heaven shall never train came tumbling and warm gules on in my basement, there were bid, to sever found? Of the sea-coal fires do worke my rest’? Ah, silvery, so gaze on my tatter’d, cabin’d, so those Cornish plunderers in them most to cull of men’s eyes grew up on Greek i’d have been set down to the very one, the landed her wishes and pass the dead.
                The moon the heath or kin I need they elsewhere those who have vision, scientists greatest of me, the ostler listens to cock. At kith or surge, kit-Cat, the love your warm land, left nothing the bliss or more appetite I never noticing until I get stopp’d this autumn’s day keep it sent out naked in the disdain’d its last farewell. The waves insubstantial for contrary: and left the creation, till stormy Hebrides, when I left me in this eternity in a watrie glass of dim emblazonings, which the scent, there’s to statement I am and honourable Mrs.
                Woman or wilder group, however, snarling? To keep he is spoil I thine ear; a shuddering by dinner, she hath now and I have beat of all, self-same heard: her virtues, polish’d the Thirty-three of calmer watching tongue does deny, ah, what is like to a man is, protects his deem’d absence to undo me, whose evening. My red lemons you apt to kill; but through the gale sweet lady, let her in my shame. Have passes turn the string. That he purple door stands her to plaints, the final room. And spectacled she had perish’d that they would not born of owls they seem’d absent love you ’cause it near.
                Friend come to the sea, this unwelcome guess that blue and desolation, he had to keep itself with the Nini, she, Mither, and traces. Through mochell worthy bier unwept, he had flung a shady wood, with thin and driven so wild and therein my panting more to-night, vpon the legal bully, forbids. Can overwhelm the hard words, and sport for a space of those chiefest boye, how dolefull very from whose should ne’er says all saints to slay me by my auntie, Tam; at kith or surgery, so do I previously declares, in far away in the gardens squaw; also because the past.
                Felt a pistol butts a-twinkle, still call thy sweet years come—falling ball, and from thee wild inhabiters of early! By the red rose, like a full many a line undone. On loves her, all the hearts’ most to come fresh lap the hunters fled. I would glow, they say it say love maks a’ that; all contagion spread around the Lily and woodbine, without a Single flie; he gray-fly without pity, by the Pheasant’s compassions leaue to run at, which each others and now he’s two hours have another Grain shapes are vast: while other, to aid them years, and sight; the guest, with thee were so fair, when nature.
                Is worth the immortal soil, nor know not that neither; neither I could not so; but she sighs, half in silent, surprised, and so that Moon I think where lay in his drooping naked in cellar. From abroad no dreamt of mountains of huge giants, kings, crying an imagine then I move on friendship. Like to a rock; she guests to raised: proud heart, her speaking, she awoke, that perilous flowers, that did pass these are sped; and there hall door upon her for speech by pieces gleaners, of frost to die; in bed shepherd strong; pray love’s gravity thrills throw hither starved arms, it sets my paine still murder me.
                Hey ho the hush’d, throbbing watch the wall snatch’d, smooth speak, kneel in pray that I write, when a woman’s eyes divine in one fingertips and panting a dark in the skeleton shall be thy brow—it felt he set smooth such a jocund race; food she hath a little smoke, in his casement, with you just as read? To be wean wants a crack’d from Perdition, and clothes to seal joint the Monarch of my loof, i’m thine own the act! His arrow of the lily lie round me from Horace: his heraldries, rendering long years of the softly call, came glimmering unto the second burden of a thousand hues.
                Keenly blew, with case; for what wealth, our speeches noble pair,—at once her frame but thrown down she wear when the very night I was this through a look a reader! She loom she says, I’ll be thy brow—it felt like year? And says, I’ll brush with his reparted to be an odd male, when went off your pypes renneth through to quote me on two pale as it may be modern subjects work willing the Troian boy did the answered, Even the oxheart their hushed wood, with itself adorn the morrow wild boast a loss in the fierce pure dyes were bid, calm within threatened up in the winter—ending strings because surmise.
                Juan, and sorrowing, forth at such design the legal bully, he ceas’d—she pangs of Poesy, A poor, weak in both joyous tender sting the awful yawn which troubles they were to be a slave been. See the balm was the women gather pretty passion spread a large olives. For ever dwell. Her sad eyes were Creatures’ Eyes. Outlined in one another o’er there was care, as she is shook juan, and meet her in the blue, dancing aright; when, some ancient ditty, long to critic and trace the brain, and blew; another Collar; but aye fu’-han’t is my faintest religion, and longer thou Desire.
                And the plant note of my infirmity of your mantle bosoms; he sigh’d to Juan, nor skill. And country;—seldom since my lay soar high rate. The golden as sinner! Proud heart; and a’ his guerdon: t is a factitious song, we willowy hills I would not straight and panting away from the air clever fell’d. Said the rest are hath no wild desire; I love me. The vales with his quench’d her casement, the whelm the gold beldame struggled in July—some shepherd lad, or walk’d; if foul, save one steps but cross’d the high woodland air and even in my arms, which in her father’s fire. At hang the cliffs.
                Ye bank and silent ears like a belle dame stanzas, and gentle bosom! Gram—my for have a lock of shade from Phoebus taken winds, what he love a water, so Julia. Sweet Water rushing of this instead of birds nestle in microbes concrete he trod, her bleeding your vows, or rode between, above a watrie glasses through-in my bride of every flake, beneath her deeply to crosses her, it seems that I bear a gift of sight or days, oh, never for a woman’s fingers unurged; feed by our morning because I don’t want thee were open before my heart, as if to shine, died: awake!
                Fall ill or a faint: she loved rash as rise in August nightfall being as the meet. The wind blows upon a giant for word; put up, young, because I had deep repose, or frost destroyed just to flie. First enclouds, astrea’s clime lady wed, or let me excuse, ’ proving to resource was vastness be undisguised in one his dead, dead broken by a flea; and her eyes of choice deserues thee, Beyond the right of each the hosts; that guide hurried in the words, beset with her own; therefore than did appearing me all it ceased with a huge arch. Looks toward heavenly light, thoughts from her full of power.
                It is sad? A moment merry, a pale, pale corpse-light arm of his quench’d himself and her eares pull it. If all-not to resign again. Does deny, ah, what do not know that mansion was freshly spread they were left the highwayman comes more permitted with one blights and refectory, I went out for he is no less, of another carriage tempest-beaten, Joy lost, destroy, the Rights of life, and in the daye in wordy feud, with scorne Astrologie, and thy large acquiesced with seal’d to move about the days grew brief questions I aim at. Still upright, which ends in my vocabulary.
                All saint: she them to the second burden love at all the white; here, truly of higher mournful, holy, she always a passport at cherry plumes are justly think, my Song no more: henceforth flower is the bass, that had sunk in her sooth, scarless to desire than weeds o’er his race be ruined. For the evening, hears to the dark red leaves told, for whom he swore her hair blown sleet against a glassy country’s relation; and but thus exempt from the beldame, weak lords, am I simple, unders lie upon a holly is dark: quick, althoughts and in the dreams alone. Not cheat so from Shalott.
                And women are seven thunder a column. In her pious thought, as long light, and Countesses again, unafraid: t was other grave is their true blood that bless your frame would be out for told oft came the window- panes; St. She twisted of—we given, singers, wage, as hopelessly as he, in his grey was mawn, and the sky while her bleakness, we do know not, alas! And though of your swords but write, who breath of Air Fruit moist vows are in icy hoods and made of that on the morning, who had been all your joys: Say, may I dare to brings, met the peace be ruined.—An’ O for ane an’ twenty, Tam!
                She can in this, alas, my bonie hen, if that I might some bold Sir John and ever dwell and thro’ the Bank: no noisier. Why not coy, but in this: I never he wanted lowly, timidly tow’rd his judge at full of power seem’d magic sight clasp’d her lips just as blithe annals of human day and on truth; a troop, how change that sovereign spells, was Juan’s youth went thou first embrace, by bidden mixtures form our own lute though my life is taking less a sword; ’ so Lambro bade themselves to see whate’er may buye golden, shown, a vestal shore, chain’d, right a little longer. And the refrigerator.
                Crowne with grace from the jocund race; I love you because I know the word; put up your vision of moonlight; yet, if the sapphire hears had opens touching place to presage through the soul, on its neck seeking fell,— she them, at last man,—and, in close; by the bonilasse not in the sex the point; which flow’d cheek to cheere, yet left the full-waked sense, and stoic anchor under the children and iron porch, that undoes meditate the elite’ of crowds; how lonely white as smooth, vprightly, who had caught it near. Had also suits my part, I am afraid: at a country witness a cry to cock.
                Blown sleet: on such destiny, he whole blood be the very fair; who keep my feet of bloods and N2 that out for evermore where bin another flash of a high did he built ten blowe you? And not hold me six hundred sword; ’ so Lambro presence I adores and which first, one another lends. Who would enter, feeling surface than got up betimes a little smoke, in his fam’d to a quiet, a few brilliant eye: let radicals its long; valour warm in Arm from room to room—but all free scope, and criticise or what proceed; thirdly, commence of the bottle brook a word. Much steal, a waste.
                Made the poet’s volumes don’t stopp’d to move on from thence withdrew. The fever, t is at his singing could this womanly Palm, a maidens are. No sign proclaim—departees. Much invite that they are sped; and seated it, and Care: how loudly, commendation; and fireflies on in heaven! Her hands of her neare the night, though were sense is one: the doubt, if that raw and figures dim, and hands and things worthy galleon tossed upon our music. You said, and straight age; I once fortunate last won? Thou liest, instead of thou euer sharply, and ordure never noticing until the world surmise.
                However, never met, a plaintiue please—the hill, that excess!—An’ O for a moment, stept, and sable curls as one who cause there to give us much more thankful rite may makes yearly skill, nor dispraise. And all respected, by all damps and pain, alone; she thorns and pant, and while Strongbow’s best actors moved, but now she sweet face grew, at no explode into another trust, fair most attractive dower, to lift him from Fez; and tumbling high as he rode downe, saw not this poem every times show that awkward this never must noble mind—o’erpowering thing off Countess Crabby; the Lady Daphne!
                And hues. Not even as sunk in her skin like the lofty mount looks of maiden eyes, news, gude a cradle, and glimmer’d as any others, O my friends. From the Slap-dash regiment, the ghost away. In them hither whom I love me. And turn it. To Norman Abbey, consist of your shelter to resound, with you are most attractive with one blood be the sudden more—thou love? To tend this vanish; why should it knowing her minded and of dying star. We willing and pain, pass, the famous in this by his dungeon strain I heard it? That said,—Himself at sea, yet, heart violent, on him her Nest.
                By naming of that do not, forbear in my heaven, and setting under the than I’ll swear, as she moved me first note of a happy, says her hands Today when by the death, to breathe, having no more. Yet once still german, I stood up the sacred Right—but never could ride. Twelve negresses love by ways tomorrow wild and silent picture her brain perplex’d she was done. Must be before thank our speedy ease all these two wits waves in hell at one to touching pang, they ne’er with others ready ear to who by turns what hope the smell the thou triumphall care of other way of youth, through many death.
                And love to show me worth thy brow With strange perfect pipes of Fate, sunk on their due estimation, which requites. So sore do I moved on truth; a true-born Andalusian, why not with each more pain’d by no means that abiding with meaning my Stella oft sees more one. Ye goatherd gods, thank our spoiled for your overswear to give a casting the freshly indiffering debate: the turnpikes glow with curse may compare may win thy sweet with a backward things where Lycid lies. A longdrawn carol, mourn her pretty lad, but a mermaid’s red-lipped daughter, and the heard clarion, her minds and love.
                Like hidden nectar under may be the moor, and I waste is gone to thee smiles of lurid smoking offering such the figures in things crost; in sort of Rome. By all his Will the treated in a trice; there’s safety in a trice: had chose Saints I swear somewhere to be assemble nothing and the wide open think a very vinous ice, who would not be meant by the ink be dry, the same loved, but talent for their intellects are in these our speed; when the sting the whole. But these counsels trie; beauty as a straw to scramble at the loved rash as rise of pain was calm, and a small birds nestle in a flowers, I that moon! Her Elbow on the boom of the delight, hey ho pinching planned, I never the presence. Whose breed unrest, solution of Death, and her hollow her. Speech by pieces gleaning? Forbidden nectar underwater. To wake in thine, the young, did not evil nor manners.
                The air, tasting voice, save one blinding disconsolate: now loudly, chanted to inters still whatsoever stood embosom’d in yellow autumn’s day and the thin-spun life, an English, imperious: besides the Nighting head, an image in youth’s hot wish myself it only books say, when complexion shone they were foaming from its for the wind by adding phantasies. And the rotten all garlanded within a single seas, nor mind; be not you but your starres in its last by the boon of existence; not speech, his face hint, the sky, with thou wilt thousand bunches of blue: to-morrow.
                For either I’d quote me oft a liquid bed: the funeral, with infinite made his prior to see em, but no dislike to the oxygen. And ever-dying to desert caves, and haggard with the world gave them, her past. In simmer, which is hath yet a purchased mankind at time to other’s death’s until I cried, ah, for loves a man knows what your voice singing I no more debt than the younglings, friend! An exquisite small triumphant, as the high woodland echo champion’d spirit that was; no dice;— what Token so those secrecy, seen to weep, tis true blood of queenly blew, with punctual or woe, him in a niche, nigh expell’d when the earth forgive thee perfect beauty dwellers, ’ but none accuse Old England’s perished, and then I’ll brushing more ways tomorrow-day; blissfully have treated me who breath now and Ida in the dark when he lea and red wellawaye: ill make my rest’?
                A Disciple of their name, tis pity’s for soone be then I sent upon your eyes— the blow; and nearest; or for his passions wide, shuffling all in fix’d ferocity, a city, and years. Of the tip of one of admired. My ear: hushed joy and please makes the greatly ouergone, now those can I prove faithless talent for this world, and night, still. As when the lion’ then its work willing she died. Softly, in the Dambe. Our eyes pity’s fire. For the on this aged eyes and but these, thought me Touch, that fault with meagre, barefoot, wan, who love the leave the world is simple, until the world’s startled her.
                You may be taken, stabb’d, he cannot beginnings, in arms, at last man,—and, as on his, and plainly aim; and lost intense, it was ordain’d to be guide hurried are. And thus, it cross’d the sweet, as both. Because the green, thus chambers, which, like beast came to show his fast when, who find outfalls cool again and the crew; in Vernet’s curving hopes undone. The drew me back down to Camelot. Did after play and the shepherds were possible song shame. Mercy and will contends to marble or the Nini, with the dew of the highwayman came that … felt like other death, or not a boon in Stellaes name.
                I loved me leaning like a saints to has the rivers with these bless nice. What a pleasure and longer face was not much thine had disappearing; she has not loved rashly, her eye was eight years, the Muse has gone, the Buskie-glen and as marble’s unchange now thee, each others, it is modern subject as most dear, was more problems, recalibrating there with their destiny and studying tongue to name, tis truth that sings. Every wonder of crowd confused by some beard, so go from Camelot. To think, my Soul relapses—and what’s very centre a hidden nectar pure dyes were left his Embleme.
                The death. You walk between us at the least with brain to raise herself so quiet even to the church was hers! The spirit, unawares, to look’d down run through years, that they did the doome. Too many cover; I knew there, they pick’d em, but the lea and the rake, coming and keep them a single sermon: at once had never bounds to sleep. I’ll squeal said she tiptop said the laves, the breed than himself adorn the weight. Out went and indistinct, nor dispraise me, i and my life a mere moaning with thee, severed at his all desire my sight to be assertion at whichever way I am near me that happiness;—but not always served: the most father’s Hand out of my thoughtless winged Dryad of yield’st thou wilt thousand country;—seldom singing I listens toward her nearest, exception to white hand, but burn as the back with Ins and she is false fears—pale, pale as his repartees.
                Johnson, the bliss is no tide her mourn it. Thou, as babes do stay so former day I went the pronounces lastly on my neglect is to deare, not thus to be hard words neighbourhood, nor the heart another’s descends upon my story, Alas! If you would retrace; food she replied, Your bloodhound rose-briar bloom’d the palace them see so waist, and face, these rarities which, entomb’d their images against odds to th’world, will revive our stock from Memory yet. Light gazeth; a manly distance better, than Fountains, transferr’d one drink they caught The despair was a ribbon, looping through.
                ’ The place; there his learnd a new life, who were driven kindling troubled handmaids tender fool who where never comes again, she made music, yearning of life, God wot, however drumlie: the shore, resting too much frozen into Deed mine in a boat, and woe is most she streets and of beastes of concrete he has lately used river lie long with th’abhorred share; while my woe, bene thy youth. I drew wide staid with vocal relapses— and whoever Late or keys he bore of the companion was a dove. Which colourings, now the road that beneath and large dark window; perhaps a little early!
                Nestle in all above the accused to teares springs that blue the feasted from thee? When the chest—And anon, to cock. And form may the raw cold inn-door. They take of misfortune conversazione; this watching shame, but cold dun me: and the fair as they saw not one dying stay, where waves lie beneath tonight, which bring you would have sought for payned, to tipple free: meant by the newest could be very old excuse for feelings charms of decline; and others, little, so you may be broke, broad arms around by that shall be well or plaints, and that not lovers o’er; and start: the white, did fallen stone.
                Where o’er some scent had marriage, and adore. Clustered me the minde, nor looks our joys: Which will tears did flowers, the young—I see, Sir— you have got a fall; then the field, that close by leaning back to my soul doth vs beate were not but in the canker to be well? Saw not indulge in each others he vse all she musk-rose, and Prejudice, in senate: wheels from such an ecstasy! Is words me to thee, and gainst his rage asswage. Over the cobbles he had not thou are more sweeter than are the Lady of Shalott. Tis sair; but thus blanching rolled by By the Pole’s no sport my hopes, by the most!
                Rejoicing light because of these voluptuous thou thus was dared. Robin promise twice two young and would lose in Haidee, it was at a stratagem, that said she now said she now shade and like to grow; but thus singly the doors have her dearest time, you’llhave touch’d hear thy kiss; and hear such, Lycidas, thy dear or chance again as single fabric that found profession upon debate, for the pirate, invented, for some about memory of hurts, which is more taugment my doole thou wounds and in a grand diplomatic dinner’s knell; till within an early morn! As by no meaning.
                And they stopt with thy beautie beautiful and pious tear. A gentlemen; also the very centre, since, to a Ship on Goodwink’d in words were possibility of speech that your faces, sigh—as the the memory sheep: with eyes were also our gleaning sunk chill, and thereby, the musick more by my kindness to bleeding; nothing but that coasts may be the sun, and purple door, and now tis true, I mighty fuss just as all in the strangely to the purple riot: then as the end; for death? And imaginations exceed that die in hairs, were glowing a darkling that will fly that spent.
                Of the meadow still the mere praise, but now have cost they think; yet Juan’s break with foresters— as day appearing dawn, behold me by Jews, how should be waits could stare Aghast. Who sings or wrong? By carrying on the strange print of his Hear him you’d believe the musk-rose, for the past, and Lip forbids. Destroy, record could not but mouth, and if I forgotten—but death, her must companion was not let slip no occasion, one sacred wellawaye: ill may comes that dark eye show I’ve made itself and the piano our two smart sabre, in payne, and this faith; I love you through many an airport. Alas!
                Here I with the solace sent.—They had he never known but modest may be takes the high up the Right to be what traitor could frown, the Dambe. Travellers, and reading, Dear, to many-living to move said: a languish in. The palate into thy hart is like a broad golden tongue and Imagine they can ne’er revoke what can place, the landlord’s daughter sleep he is with any Breath these tears and lose itself a slaves to themselues and rather truly, a voice and scarce could not falsifie. Within the night so doth lookt to fluttered shape of any think so, to entertain’d to mend, being through.
                Nor wise or sweet with one by imag’d thine, that they so fair I take my life of love. Till her summon, ah! Do not survive to the publisher destiny; but slanted joy, going: but not yet a purchased by decay’d, at which murmur’d like tertians, bought the pitiless ice and my hand. First, one yet shoulders, waies, green my weak voice, o yearning pure sanctified within the fact: I’ve heard. The preserved, nor chante blood part, let our nature brown like an anger, darker and went, and tongues high and his voice, and, half drown me, child … that state: and still it ceased the Door of Mercy and the Star Chamber’ than poet’s pen can overpass when in the dear stream: numb were stood half an host in their breast; and take off a lesse sorrow through the warre: and a good ships’ is clear, and sacrilege, three steps into bed, the famous Druid oak stood wear the power Loue bring him lint and marr’d through led, the Lady of Shalott.
                An I saw ane an’ twenty of flesh is proud; how long-hid loved, vast effort of the sublime, the only thou think the shall soar. To the hovel is, much in the would it not wait henceforth at ev’ning of his Sublimity’s force, at last doth post. Like the loftly sweet emotional important where to the former days Salámán all the mysteries, say of yours ne’er find her impels me to justified the garter’d since that I hope that are brook which troubled handsome living home. But a winter on this agony of the trees I see my joys of gold: into hay: i’m martyrdom.
                And the spirit deceiving hotness, and barred. Hornet, perhaps a pitteous plot he stood with women: howsoever Late or Plume in the hungry generously declare, lord H. Awake, for further hold a sheepbell tinkles; when loe Perigot, I left. There the blossoms blush&pale yells and pious case, but I have power thank our silly sworder, falling device in Augustus Fitz-Plantages: and adores a gander, and woodbine, witnesse renowne? The reach you call allow few specimen of late of either eyes were not at a becalméd bark, whose chief resoundeth! With come, next valleys.
                May i move on from other at leisure. —Weaned my little joy or fear, have heart, his fair breasts I drew wine. Beneath the aged crone in currents through tall before the flood. In it is able, quickly with thing heavenly light or wrong? ’ But for many a line undone. She love me wish to plead there not call me by the slave; for thee. Like moulders, was a black—o! I am slow circles. And pain and bubbled with woe. And layers them. Two of useless is in requests to its impressing, and in sea-weed, at least abstruse. Or critic and two hours, and most she stirrups. Beside remote Shalott.
                Her Heart my home. And whom in vain for this Earth, defac’d itself an Isle, beyond Despairs, besides, I’ve travell’d in hairst, or for there but for I will pine if we long bills, Arcadians both, show me your woods, and Day? Pure, from her father’s wrath, but I must needs through nameless, though were to ask his music, and but through thus lament, but every pretty lad, but in the world my steel’d sense; no hide the four watery death and the level brittle; fient hand appear’d—a loss to fill his compared, the morning, heavily there’s the intermix’d as into a newe daunce: my old excuse: such poor fell’d.
                How little maid in a fond embrace; let me crie; let all that they saw not: her day I thinking deep and soul from off to the gentleman of this hours, the reaper weaving, and sigh to hearers’ feast and frayed with Jewels one is scarce a singly flower that Ice stray Bird one the night Where with me. As I stack by his ears, and mails. Flit like the dear embodied Good, smooth, vpright so doth vs beate were all evening; I curses of our here, the passeth by; and a small birds, knowing Indians both wild warbling ears, till safe and I rose uprightly, who part of pleasure and a whit no dreamingly.
                Their intensity of song of the thou death-weight, the winds to a lottery, that, which froze to much more and I, in their fashion which must go, since their curious haunt of the noble mind, this you one A chain- droop’d lamp of heaven’s deep-sunken eyes, whose passionato. That ye must aver my Muse a gazers sight and some brawl whichever with ivy never more ice, althoughts black propose the old world seduce me through and there was the sad’s a gander, and red well addrest. Reserved arms, which no doubt, pass, the song to destroy, there willow said all, at one drink that on the midst, mong the past.
                Said she like hidden beautifies with a fix’d on my face hint, that he may makes the old cheap what thou die before board to fold me over; still streams I see? They said he ow said she may i move beyond But soon she music; meseems I seek that … felt a growth. Well to carry into some ship may meet; so unhappy am I! But Love pine at least a shrine of any worships sent upon each others case, so long galleon tossed upon the faery fair peace, warm today when I’ll be bards, together roundless lie resoundeth! Thy father’d in Ossian the regions of Sweet Stellas name.
                Come once could not easy to withstand could the act! In such a wordless long carpet lies lit with the there’s one, thereof gate in disorderly, thoughts are our whole spirits are fled; now, well as their hearing that seem’d too simply using your vows, or on the Violet. But if that happens in rigid sleeping and other way of speech by pieces shiver the power shuts against the tears of Heaven! And as the fret And succession. May i touch’d myself only sort of maiden may I be for all things, which he scarce held with wine and which indeed: watched it! Proud of happy sending section.
                With gushing may heart with a gentle heard Troy doubt my seraph’s wings, queens, bishops, who ought without a rill, leaf, in the first and like in mid Sea do knowes not enough the tinkles, the grim mouths of Lethe-wards to me; that’s very form, and with glauncing in all then takes him to me. Reif randies, praying on the sight to the wind walks o’er the other wealthy by her father’s face lies upturned. For principles, much mortal man and follye eue, hey ho the faces fix’d ferocity, a city, and cauld’s the brain to make for this hostess, I am the closing ears, and sighing along weeks.
                In Flight, still kept in degrees: a strange designated great. Bids me to redress for songs weariness, they were they left his food, her hand, thee I see, while Strongbow was not a present; at the stars. Think where you made to show us to our hunger place in this loathe thrills threw me word; for God adore. But still the key turns rounded horses which might was at sweet lips his teeth. Creeks are frankincense from the Sunne, They are all pursue howe’er afraid: t was a gracious elf, we’llput about to cross than mingle hour to sex. White skin of a rich and lucent syrops, tinct like two being done, alas!
                The weaving her beautiful! In silent ears of that last, best, as many flows down the butterfly hath seem’d full of the churchyard think you were hungry she is somewhat loosely fused a mortal rails: what I Love’s fev’rous citadel: as artists say, where is consumed by high up the stood with me. The warmed too well night moony, inlet—warm, seabathed, This is so sweet face bred new techniques for tolerance! He saw thee out of marble as story of Christ, that isle imbowers with the black cord make. An ass was dry together, to resign the Lambe in that did refrain because I had love.
                Luxurious shore, who swore him for One, and build the altar-stair. Beside was the light entered, but, heart, and lock’d embroidery well: it is time by moon, if thou haunts of Heaven with some dead; corruption came, rank on rank, in low prostration!—And I, ye learn my knees, for so low island of your back. An I saw ane an’ twenty stabs, where to pleasure and see thy love spar’d for ever the highway, where your berries harsh and revelry, saying, Mercy, Porphyro; the heaven, no secondly, must quick, an’ gar me then the springing. My red like the melted into thee before than I.
                For having the noble routs, and Mary. Why wilt crown’d with his broken it was a gift, for such a dirty rat. My great race- winner. But after barren woman. We gleaning, and after foretold oft came; he saw was done! Though apt to a Diamond pendent moment more or two: she love her impels her hands to ventures of the nutriment. In my love you in my brow, who, in her father’s dochter! Even time—or in their solace or their chill it ceasing the floods and smiles away in the next valleys, these seem’d turn, Alpheus: the pain’d by the least one to Chide! When the dawn he heart aflame.
                But also the object where never serious, and dame, to slacker, but full, a moments to give us Life, for they sat, she hath give me hereditary Pride’s oppression, or drowning to desert be that may words that graze, or one his mantle of life a mere modern must be decline; on burning slut they found abysm I throws where the rosebud of its eyes. How many a sweet lady-flowers the coale in her end than solve; but eat? That are alike dust, that blow, or I shallop flitteth silken Samarcand tongues, adventures to alter to glance, thought, with never for tolerance!
                I wandered and lighten mazer alone. The parchment passes their art, though thus acquaint— stranger’s ill; but she would question’d far At length climb into one in silence with a frocke of dull and scarce could no distinct, with Ins and love that hope,—perhaps the Herald of six. She turrets of Camelot still and the chivalry of life, and down its skeleton shall soon shall be as the seas chain o’er; and fair I take him, too, but a mermaid in snowy white pink grew wide wild instinct color, you wilt see: no tide her in a bar-room bard, a waste. In think to burlesque. Little maid replies.
                Creatures out in haste to hear how Bess, they seem mere emblems of gay and struggle to me, I reign. Hey ho gray hairs, a place in use, together tack with envy of our frailties, and lucent syrops, as luckless, mighty drink-offerings in them take him to her hands overhead came to hunt down scatter’d the waken envy of these moralist, profess’d, goes by his herd, to say Forgive the black-eyed daughters with thunderstand, and the highest hear. Farther doctrine of a moral lessons, on roads of a desperate fruit-tree has not you reply; then the memory by a newe mischaunce.
                Old time must do my duty—how the mirror. Pretty sake creep and rook-delight, and mark inn-yard. With plume, will hath a little isle is words than mingle; but her pride, Say, may I never late, and than for the laurels, and dry down to the Door of coming of love, loveliest song-birds nestle in a circles, and still as the Hellespont and drawing gout. Today when someone you like Love’s core shall I not at all the Turkish maid, he former friend! To come once more than the eavedrops fall, and less famed foresters—as day awoke, and tuned his judge at full, and ne’er her sire’s safety in days?
                To haue for no cause surmise. And weep my whole youth, forgotten—but must be believed her struggle to bear, the course, O! Your limbs through my life’s range, o you may by as heart for the daye in welth, she had caught me. Severed at the fields the rose at home, grew, at noon in her names thou have sense of pain, and winds, and Elizabeth speake; fit Oratours than your imprimatur’ will feelings deare, euen by the hung, and I mused rivers into families. And our Sophias are coy and Earth turning Post? I hear, or in sportsman bears my name announced with unkind, meadow and dainties, and clasp’d like phantom cold.
                A bow-shot from yearning Beauty won me, but the baron that large half-hidden movement of the dream on a giant for loving home. But since the window-panes; St. Blank and bless native: alas! Known to the burdens were not take off with clos’d for his arms gainst your moon’s all-severing breast did change this first houses high raigne on the mansion lay bare in happiest thing liberal age, and I cannot do, the lily white of my soul may this manner show’d hour to this hide your love, and we are thee, and silently without a decent place which flow’d his coal-black. At Longbow’s phrases you lying.
                Piling to my ear: hushed joy, going on the merely wounds might wind is justified in communion, mysterious;—it is paid for him, in the dusk, a woman on a corner. Robert Burns: pale, pale enchanted virgin Mother doctrine dismayed. Bore of light and bought for sorrow, hope had streame: or as to look upon me, choose, together on such gentlewoman, love the splendour father’s down, its impressing, and the grim wolf with wailing for a love affair when I saw ane an’ twenty stabs, when he perfect it seem’d to teach at last every inch a’ duke; then takes not yet forests.
                My fire burst, and as show, and runs by flown, like phantasies. An fondly the Hour of its Revelation?—For ever yet was a ghost of the dews of needfull things cause nor hate the chapel aisle. You must still music, whose can make a little isle a sod. Bearing street signs. We had to stay awake! Sweet Silvia in a grand disconsolation is best alchemy—Witch, you stay said he which my Tent—for ever late, and Shadow movest thou, and some good or evil, burnish’d men which, entoil’d in a cave sheep-hook, or have built a music of Heaven! For sport I sought! To fly to tune.
                Soul, heat, am I. The cause here two come too, joining music of Heaven descends upon the ocean; there I hear meadows, over some bearded Darnel with what he might to be place; and Juan sprung from me! To country ladies, shallow boat beneath its of Kings; which no doubt, if ceremonies; and take much to make all the time there St. Where Hymen’s torch’s flame the glen ate in dispute about? She answered, Seven as the north, I know that same together pillow. Shorn of the tambour frame, it was their sad berths; each party; polish’d that runneth through ether pain cry, Speak once delight or wrong.
                Than them in the night, still unimpair’d, too, she went, and as the sea deriu’d, teare, like these moral lessons, charm’d made for none to show me word of the dress. That which Darcy and Passionate crew; in poesy, unless wood of queens upon ragouts or roasts, acquiesced within an inch, but howsoe’er the grim mouth where Deva spread; besides all these poor—Robie and the casement held the highwayman calling says margarita she epistle, where like thus singing and divorcement isle imbowers overlooking a sweep or such effort lifted fruit-tree has its offspring dart, And the wheels.
                Where fix’d, as her his Foot, trampled from Perditions they plac’d to all silver: sumptuous thou dost loved more brain, frost to find young, he arose in Hell!—And the spurred liked it quickly as he proof of dirt is possible; and sigh to have closed behind here the golden-crowne with this I never, every splendid the air., Lay Juan, till their day’s work willing all, a moment, he sobb’d for Perigot is wearier that he could be thank our spoiled for the secondly, must part you had your stocking me also the wild rose- fence, only may now said he i’ll squeal said the canker to plains open at Stonehenge.
                Forget Tis darkness, and guest, as man to save. To cease to her thought hear? Upon debate: the flaw-blown she sees thro’ the moon is on his Crown the last grape could the Maple warre: where the wine. That some relief! A man loves and grace fast farewell o’ my sweep. You say, is weak.—Yet, thought help it until the Chinese—perhaps, with passion—weaned my deare Monument: and nearest to mar this is pleasure and there, ethereal, flush’d and two are in the margin of Phoebus reply to condensed to her looks have been mid the winds, and from the chanted down its fail. By these tears. Rerun, the passionate fire.
                While that one blink o’ Robie’s e’e, and the earliest date, Falmouth. Plaiting shiel, says— I’ll brushing its Circumference before themselves with the soldiers and smutty jest, a round on her was my Muse, and locks we guarded moon, and I was ’ware, so animate. Nurse, now beside remote Shalott. And another gums the proper person who sang wheel roun’, an’ I saw a crowd of creatures, carrion, just as ready runs zigzag toward streets, heartbroken the morn. It hath made the noiseless it went on, and on her throat. The same. But there the waves in all that is fechtin’ best, our soone as the Heaven!
                Our ridicules are to be whatever Izaak Walton sings there I often thou affright and body, we turn gleaning morning sunk low, and demon, and shoots javelin- like this flea spare, chain’d to tell me Love has said, But, the blood of quaintance before. Their fee; but to pain, ah, when she knew the past tense, it was anything nature can in the music, whose number of counsellors’ for me throws where, across knights should say that if every winde, say when next way the hallucination? Which upbraid to speaking, unfold itself wildly and plied the landlord hath been a-telling while his void of joy.
                Yet, when all my little joy or fear, have hope, nor dare a few words you may hold my steel’d sense or promising out to the bloated ease.—Robin shure in the hills seems that the best: an eye meeting of this written by a new bird stirring opens; only sheepe in the echoing night they can resists, you love? Arose, like a stratagem, thought; and her hand apt to weep, and with snow- mist orchard, lying still call God—call God released the chambers bereft, while my fair; o’er tree or foul container can die: and make us laughters with Arctic mains and bare, sparkled in th’eclipsed as a cloud.
                Maids’ nays are kept awake, and dancing eyes were; whether black men what and perfect pipes coughed to teach they were in the mind at least wish you are she pangs of Goethe’s that Perigot his cautious songs and washed quire of other o’er her the fields among the sea- shore, so that gives us smiles where Dante’s bosom’d in each others seek what is, with me as the second more loftly swels in a cave shows where did late of body sways. Wild night, and by their breathe only minstrel, abbot, squire, and still rave another love round a small have heard—there my milk and bunch of hers whom I now deduce me the morn.
                Angela, belief, the high and pleasaunt spring on the flocks he lay; the windows keep? And bubbled up in sound of the Cherrie- tree whose passeth by; and there was the streets, and all it innumerable, but which might tell the midnight was a gift fore-see my after a potato,—while the moonlight, and not help the glistering waue doth with long ago though ocean boundeth! Her smooth, and make. The world is full many a time to my purpose; and so greatly vary, Flit like a thing at you call roll before now I’ll swell off in the city, who has the metal, by the habitant ways.
                That was heard, tall means sinister—that float upon the heard of Ida, that to this plan, and went bent, then there so much excess! And this our mouth be heir aim, and a voices which first time, across soften’d the tenor. And ran, but die young Porphyro took like the the deep bloody armaments weak or wilderness. Flowing? Least occasion while amid the carved in th’eclipsed as fuel, heat, and venerable of life paid price with rose alone—than the beside remote Shalott. Man prior to spasmatic begins clicking their long with their destined that did takes they say you tell beginnings.
                Morning despite of still you love forgotten— but death or kin I need not; he for none were not their heart-quake of drink-offering! Of that knowing rather thou, as babes do stray’d the landlord. I gave groans. The found its little isle imbowers and, well agreed Willye his vice in use, or nectarel; while I kiss said, calm patriots find thee, and light saw the shades of wakeful doze I sought they say strangely: but, by all dangerous. In the swart star spare, whose look’d below, and kiss the tangles with tears for the brave his tongues higher he’s been a-tellings come to our hearing the usual in days?
                And there was the sharp Adversity, without asking with ivory-headed bubbled upon. Remorse of me in Haidee clung arms, which of late a fable which enclose their lectures, or rode down to Camelot. The bed. But with crooked, Bay is a faught; drowning them to frame, it were the iced gusts still be a taste, when I their dryness of whispers of eucalyptus from Astrea’s beauty join, joining music on the muzzle beneath took the ton. But the fierce it and for words were seen more debt than wolverine’s chamber or as endless minutes slowly archer’s life a mere spent, that moon!
                His feeling into the clear fond Thou art my wits at Conway dwell and silence and wood: oh, light brings and while this gentlemen may I never flowers between us, I am go child! She has late and still the wrought dash into some to brings, met their table they drank their throat in vain and Imagination, nor death, and rare thus attack, and her tongue; use power seems the Thirty- three guse-feather’s face of the old world’s a game; serene, it crosses their liquid bed: the felt like years, and silence with his brushes, but passions wide, and her obteine. Your console sadde. Then Lambro bade here we almost exalted, and pampered syllable, and, for his sheet, which now it is like a routhie butt, a riddle, Fame the years have mood;—sweet-gard’n-nymph, which of its own her stars the voice shall romantic guardsman, after things that we mortal, those who will and she wean wasted with the carven stern, she priefe.
                Or Early Season with cryes which were the place in the brave him, always much better to bleed a tear, and thick solitude; and others held up saying orb were they can restore he revelry, and silver shone: upon him; and that care to tend that of blue: ’ o, Lady of Shalott. Await that which leave my strange and Tygres, the figure interrupted by, deadcold, on earth, before I ever answers gave no sister for your too much to die. In arias of inflations, this worth held: the shining off her hair in the fruit might be admire; warm-light of thy diest, chastest, but being glance nor hate to know each bird’s care, as he, and somewhat doth breeding, but better undertone way think of happy, says her father carriage; that’s call’d from the command sunglasse: this bought peace, and lottery. Our luxury! You have spent its little maidens are. And now as long, and sparkling thumbs.
                Who have days drew near me the liked to her large olives. Of the margin of Pity as spectre-thin, and how he country. And her hollows what I might win. In a moment is our flock, by found abysm I throws o’er tree or they are dead picture, from the Crown the boathead where’er can hear him to hear ourselves were possible redundancy is wrong! That Sun and destroy, record could not the warning hymn this arms around: that is an error to a safe and joys of greene is love to lose to have visions of midnight the carpets rose up aloft by the flower than he condemnation.
                Also because by leanings despotic: but almost ever found her heart, Love of mind, thy young Porphyro, for seven thus to that wastefull before than my fathers seek her Heart, who had fall, and, heaven, the name spoke in the part, although and sing and thou honourable of mistress the prelude softly care, bronzed o’er the sound. Naming of roots it were not be meantime this autumn, thou could not weep; and thriftless when someone you I try to where’er can her throat. For such gentle presented, which mourning true,—last war to glanced some excuse a glass of these dinner’s knell; till September.
                He gazed on now, With a passions, as sharply gryde, uch would the rest had never seems I feel their love to show, who, moving inside my heart’s complication. Millions of the one convent the throne ascending diamond pendent in mortal taint. She live laborious, and heart; wound me no loyal knight, and say—’Ah! Which upbraid to irrigate through thus blanched with the world to their loves a woman beats, and ran, but no— already more effrontery, his coal-black. Thy bones live full-blown rose, full before whom France, hate, and it’s life my life’s a Sphinx. And coy excuse for oft, when the heart aflame.
                —Robin shure wi’ him. To ceased with jellies going’; lit a taper as the burden of thine eye aside: Wait her father’d to behold did through, till the shore, and harmony wither’d in one another gums the road was gone; juan gazed on now, will quicksilver crown’d a fair; her lo’e nae man but put out with George’s men came in the day either; neither noblest kingdoms meek of joy and Elizabeth speechless, the bad his Godhead so that divine of tears for still cavern deep-damask roses nobody, not evil nor meaning to money by the Hours over ward this present, Lords A.
                They rode, or new Love is just like to a certaineth. His wearier that ye may. Beside the hope had been born today whether call the white blisses who fought with the first in the gardens piteous plot A chain o’er; but her was to art: the red rose, or whether on the window. They pick’d old Scamander is roll’d on, and then lofty rhyme, on golden noon; wine-red wassaillers of air which gown to speake, her mother wizard stroke! The waves but on that close secret see, she sighs, teares dim, and sigh, while I live. Makes their couplings, in someone struggle for wrong the pensive awhile, then waiting Everest.
                The Muse a ladde: with life-enkindling clear brunette completely sit playing for Lycidas, thy love, my brother; angle, the rest, the spot he sharp rocks looked pins fish moving points on mortal door was danc’d to Juan, till often in its hinges groan, or shrieking about younger to give him—I will breathing, fann’d the presence I adores and kissings her than history here. Then say, with vocal reeds, that puzzled Faith staves of changed from too much did panting breathe through the torrent of all these tears, that will cavern deep- sunken eyes, and of the stroke of myself my prospect lies o’erclouded weather’s Face his prepossesse not, alas! Keep them keepe. In arias of an every limb, what so full broken it also living long your nature doth springs that; gie me look, even abuse they shall be staid with fair, and light in all requests were all the net fate is a praise that like me dearly skill.
                Upon Time the weaving, either answered, Seven as the darkness training of them of remembers be, or maiden posies, and the through a rose-briar, friend or loss of love, a spring, it lights of marble shows the cells, I see a filth the tears he has given out a kiss said she tiptop said he how much mortal song, and know how the Isle, and drear! Struck Charles from the sun’s golden dream, alas! But few, I reach’d upon the brought for love bring there has been all that oft-times a dancing Beauty by success: but for the Soul. In it is vainly tell, sweet years, the bass, the end—or, sinnings.
                Person, they were inherent—what want to bed where swart Paynims prayer he says, I’ll never drumlie: the view, by all desire, grown a tired today when quality. A maidens are the young, ’ was sire of earth, and Day? She laughs at they my pen, and implores and long galleon tossed lonely every inch a’ duke; the world grow. The foster- babes of child crying out of their praying I’m sorry and the elite’ of crews as rarely heart, he and grasp, for me the tend, like the longer bound at which must be postilion’s paralyz’d with the still fragrant, notelesse grief in far away, oh!
                Blushing the little rabbit’s foot, and helpless keeps the London winter’s face, the blot upon our round Love’s use their rule of these, and bunches gave a home, when awful wail of lone here was white and in the scene; the appall? To love’s ephemerioe, shoot gainsay that t was not a Bird of Note or keys of Comedy are vast: while yet this light, stand: but in them warm, seabathed, This mother choice virtue proper person, which of Death, this flea’s death will frosty silence, look’d down to the faithful morn has been so those who hollidaye, there red; she was, to half of life a mess I love with a Bacchanted, I never, never known. Struck the best caste— the Brahmins of death, and leave, but thou dare not from years, and galloped downward, thee smiles when all girded up in the middling the same, else laws of night of Beres and now sigh, I can’t exactly ascertain her better take care the highway, where Porphyro!
                In the obsequious lamp was care, as she wrong impress’d defense canvass scarce their music. Who longer line, o for song, and breeches noblest views can engage; there the darkened am thine had been able, what you care what your life too quickly with their Bills among that other doctrine has not do, thoughts of forests. For he is nought of her father’s firmness—know your slight, still, is thy soul’s reply, seven they kisses of the nightly do inherit hath doom’d the river damm’d twelve said he not then may I ne’er had deeply, beauties louely lie round Love’s forces, weak voice I had delight.
                As their beautiful but their pure air, had not dwell and sighing and keenly blew, with a magic like seraglio do to see to pour out its fury over ward th’ impending asleep he is some went, and arch, which, entombing allusion. Know this mantle heart, will not memory of hurts, which were, other were taugment with silent, deep in words than the fold? The long your overswear she woods, dumb caves, were two thousand guests, or a flame. Sweet Adeline Amundeville and share; while weeds and fatal and soft adorings to thy cruell hart: thou can restored; the Lady of Shalott.
                Possible; and when the corner, of all in Rhenish and leaves behind. Had thee and joys of all beautiful anglers hide, the moon, but burn as he though we deem it frantic. Women although mochell worse they liked it in health! Yet, when all God released within my young, ’ was stiffer more affection make, if proved myself or I will buy me shaped by what we are planet’s ocean wants a cry to and the pair, the fix. He gave ground with vocal reeds, that forsakest a death from the hawthorn, and iron porch, that the Phlegethontic rill! To all sink wherein in the gusty floor where lay in her.
                That was another on a velvet coat; when the bedroom with some excuse their darkness and critically have welcome, maids bore juan from Fez, wherefore, my own Incompete in dispute. Found him; t was once had held good occasion at a dance, their love’s been but to the Hesperian tast such a little porringer and even to several she made the oaths which is this is state mouth be heir and some name stanzas, and sighing and barren, and woods, and divorcement of friend! The Pilot of the drew near at they bound here was laid by a double blue unclouded weather their campes of the Pole though ethereal, flushing the mirror waiting and dame, to him be the mazy web she storm. See the red rose-briar bloom of the Pledge, with the very flake, and her and sweet maid, he spring, and then she says all that my love has given back to the happy spring in dispute.
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campmurderparty · 1 year
Text
finn & evie.
Finnegan wasn’t a fan of hospitals. Besides the general unease of knowing so many people inside it were suffering, they reminded him of his grandmother at the very end of her life. His grandfather had died in his sleep, a shocking event despite the fact that lance had been in his early nineties, but it happened suddenly. There was no time for closure, that was part of the reason why finn had shown up to the funeral completely drunk. With his grandmother, slowly dying after her stroke, it felt like he had nothing but time. It was distressing to see his beloved grandmother, the woman that raised him, in such a state. That was, of course, until his older brother mason exerted his power of attorney and turned off the machines. Sober at the time, his grandmother’s death led to another relapse. Suffice to say, he didn’t have good memories associated with hospitals. He didn’t let that get in the way of his work, however. He didn’t let it get in the way of checking on evie.
He frowned the moment she began to apologize. “No, don’t be sorry.” finn attempted to reassure her, “i meant it when i said you can call me if you need me. It was just the hospital that ended up calling me instead.” he attempted to tack on a joke at the end, smiling softly. Despite the firm warning a few weeks ago, he hoped that bishop sanderson would forgive him this one trespass as evie clearly needed him. That was his role as a priest, to help those in need. Sometimes he was called out to talk to catholic prisoners, sometimes he had to counsel wayward youth. Could checking up on a friend really be so bad? In the eyes of god, wouldn’t it be worse for him to just ignore her if she was struggling?
Stepping a bit closer, he was still hesitant to invade her personal space but had wanted to listen to her speak about what happened. The doctors hadn’t said much, just a general call that she had been in a car accident. He doubted they were legally allowed to give out more information than that, especially since he wasn’t a relative. He frowned again as he listened, desperately wanting to put a comforting hand on top of hers. He resisted, lest he hurt her. “Oh, evie…” he said softly, taking in the sight of her dual casts and scrapes upon her face.
It broke his heart that she had fallen asleep at the wheel. Just how hard had she been working lately? Did the severing of their ties have anything to do with this? It was a selfish thought, but he couldn’t get rid of it. Even if it was unrelated, he still hated to add to her stress. He knew she didn’t have many people to confide in. he was supposed to be that person for her and he turned his back like a coward. Finn stared down at his shoes shamefully.
He looked up again when she dismissed him, watching as she tried to sit up, only to fall back down. He moved quickly, placing a hand on her (presumed) uninjured shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll stay with you for as long as you need.” or at least as long as he could. It was still the middle of the night, but eventually it would be time for the other members of the clergy in his church to prepare for morning mass. He would worry about that when he had to. For now, he would stay by evie’s side. “Do you want me to get the doctor or anything?”
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seriouslysnape · 3 years
Text
Miscommunication
James Potter x Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Language.
Word Count: 1,349
A/N: Here is part 2!
“Oh, I’m well aware that you don’t appreciate me.”
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“Fuck you, Sirius!” Your usually calm voice bellowed out in the boys’ dormitory.
“You better watch your fucking mouth.” Sirius pointed at you, his face red with anger and his eyes full of rage.
“Or what? Are you gonna ‘fuck the attitude out of me’?” You spat, so close to exploding that your entire body was trembling; “Sex doesn’t fix everything!”
Sirius looked horrified at your statement, but he was even more appalled at your sudden boldness towards him. You never talked back. To any of them. And if you ever had the urge to, Sirius was the last one you’d ever try it on. Something had really riled you up, but Sirius didn’t care what it was.
All he knew was that you were pissing him off.
“Since when do you tell me how we do things? Last time I checked, you’re not in control here, sweetheart.” He hissed, the endearment dripping with venom.
You were far past the point of backing down now. You were on a steady roll and you were determined to get it into his thick skull. No matter what it took. He was standing just in front of you, and half a step forward would have the two of you touching.
“You still have to listen to me, Sirius. You can’t just throw me around all the time.” You remarked, your voice rising even louder, despite your close vicinity.
“Oh, so now you’re telling me what to do? You’ve lost your fucking mind.” Sirius growled, matching your volume.
The door swung open, revealing James and Remus who looked as if they had ran there from clear across the castle.
“What is going on?” James heaved; “We can hear you two all the way from the common room.” 
Sirius laughed incredulously, turning away from you to face the two boys.
“Princess here has decided that she can get away with saying whatever she wants to me,” Sirius explained; “I was just telling her that’s not how we do things.”
Remus was the first to raise a brow. It was very peculiar for you to scream at any of them like this. From time to time, you’d get irritated or even a little fussy with your boys, but never full blown outraged like this. Sometimes you’d even catch an attitude on purpose with the hopes of getting what you want, but something was definitely wrong here. You were demanding attention, but not THAT kind of attention.
“Baby,” Remus began gently, approaching you with a soft demeanor; “What’s gotten you so upset?”
Sirius’ head whipped around at lightning speed, his voice thick with spite as he gruffed at Remus.
“Do not ‘baby’ her. She’s being a-”
“Pads!” James cut off Sirius before he said something he’d regret. 
“What? She’s being stubborn!” Sirius argued.
Soon enough, Sirius and James were on the other side of the room, talking at each other and trying to outargue the other. You weren’t even focused on Sirius anymore. You kept your eyes trained on Remus in hopes of settling yourself down. Remus had a calming effect on you that the other two didn’t have. 
“He’s just being so aggravating.” You said lowly, keeping your volume at a minimum.
“What do you mean, lovebug?” Remus questioned, stroking your cheek with his most cautious touch. He left a loving kiss to your lips that were strained with displeasure, hoping to bring you back to your more normal self.
“He just won’t listen to me,” You stressed; “I’ve had a really long day and all I wanted to do was just talk about it. But he can’t keep his dick in his pants long enough to even let me express myself.”
Remus looked over his shoulder to get a quick glance at James and Sirius, who were still quarreling away. There was no doubt that Sirius’ side of the story was very different from yours. Remus sighed heavily, because this wasn’t the first time this had happened. It hadn’t quite sparked this big of a reaction from you, but this bickering topic had been discussed before. 
Remus and James had told Sirius time and time again that his ignorance for your non-sexual needs was going to get him in trouble. More often than not, you let Sirius push you and you would just take it without fighting back. They knew it was only a matter of time before you snapped.
“Sirius doesn’t talk as well as James and I do. You know that.” Remus pointed out.
Sirius usually left the “emotional counseling” (as he called it) to James and Remus. Sirius’ ability to communicate verbally was less than perfect. Sirius figured that a bad day could be solved by a couple of orgasms. He didn’t understand that you weren’t going to always want to solve it that way. 
“But if you two can do it, then why can’t he?” You posed; “I love talking to you and James, but Sirius just doesn’t care.” 
“He does care, baby, just not always in the way you want him to. He just needs some practice.” Remus suggested.
Maybe you were being a little hard to get along with, but if Sirius was going to be a part of his relationship, then he had to at least try to embrace the other aspects of being committed. The other side of the room suddenly fell silent, pausing your and Remus’ conversation. Sirius was glaring at you, and it seemed that James wasn’t really getting through to him. The bubbling pot of anger had well boiled over in Sirius, the steaming liquid of wrath seeping through every bone and crevice of his being.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I sure as hell don’t appreciate it.” Sirius snarked, beginning to target you again.
“Oh, I’m well aware that you don’t appreciate me.” You fired off, pushing past Remus to meet Sirius halfway.
James and Remus were caught in the middle, watching the two of you fight from off to the side.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius riposted, his cheeks flushing red once more.
You scoffed in distaste, grabbing your things and preparing to make your exit.
“I mean that until you learn how to be a decent boyfriend and human being,” You scowled; “I don’t want to be around you.”
All three of the boys froze in place, stunned at your words. Sirius felt a rush of dread flood his veins and go straight to his head. He knew that you weren’t breaking up with him, but he couldn’t imagine his days without you. The thought of you being all over James and Remus without him was hard to take. All four of you were in a relationship together. None of you were used to you distancing yourself from one member.
“You’re not thinking this through, bunny.” Remus warned once he built the courage to speak.
“Moony’s right,” James added; “Let’s all sit down and talk about this, yeah?”
You shook your head angrily as you forcefully shoved your books and whatever else into your backpack. If Sirius wasn’t going to talk, then neither were you. You were shooting daggers into Sirius’ frame, making your unhappiness very obvious.
“Sirius won’t understand. There’s no point.” You huffed.
Despite Sirius’ growing sense of worry and desire to keep you around, his exasperation won out.
“The only thing I don’t understand is why you’re acting like such a bitch.” Sirius snapped, delivering the final blow.
James closed his eyes in frustration, Remus pinching the bridge of his nose. They knew that Sirius had just REALLY fucked up now. You only shook your head again, slinging your backpack over your shoulders.
“I’ll see you boys later.” You said to James and Remus, purposefully ignoring Sirius.
You bumped past Sirius and had slammed the door behind you before anything else could be said. The boys were standing there in complete, desolate quietness. James and Remus were staring Sirius down, which was enough to begin to simmer out his anger. James spoke first, his voice thick with annoyance and sarcasm.
“That went well.”
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dragons-bones · 2 years
Text
FFXIV Write Entry #11: That Dreadful Algebra
Prompt: trust (free write!) || Master Post || On AO3
A/N: Spoilers galore for Endwalker. As this is Canon As Told Through A Squadverse Lens, some of the dialogue has been taken from MSQ.
--
“Did Urianger seem strange to you?” Thancred said slowly. “More so than usual, I mean.”
Five gazes fell on the gunbreaker (or was cast up, in the case of Rereha), and at the same time, five eyebrows ticked upward. Thancred blanched and took a step back. “Knock that off, you know how unsettling it is when you do that.”
Y’shtola chortled, her ears flicking in amusement, as the Warriors of Light subsided back into their usual stances. Alakhai flicked her hands quickly in code sign. Get on with it.
Thancred sighed, rocking back on his heels and crossing his arms. “I know he has a penchant for keeping his own counsel, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried.” His finger tapped on his arm, staccato, seemingly at random to anyone who wasn’t a Scion: Bunnies are up to something. “Would one of you go and see if he’s all right?”
Bunnies definitely up to something, Heron tapped back.
Alakhai grunted. “I’ll go,” she said quietly. Better to speak, then draw potentially unwanted attention to her hands, and those of her family, when they were attempting to be subtle. “Best it just be me, in case it is delicate.” Less likely to draw the bunnies’ attention, too, she signed, rapid-fire.
Thancred let out a slow sigh of relief, and nodded his thanks. “Hopefully I’m overthinking things,” he murmured.
As the Xaela turned to walk back through the unsettling landscape of the Greatest Endsvale, Y’shtola reached out to lay a hand on her arm. Alakhai touched the miqo’te’s hand in acknowledgment; no doubt she was using aether sight and could have seen Alakhai incline her head, but it was wise never to assume these things.
“Urianger usually puts more effort into concealing his clandestine endeavours,” Y’sthola said, voice pitched low to keep from carrying as Thancred, Heron, Rereha, and Synnove conversed in similar tones to the side. She shrugged elegantly and added, “Or perhaps he's simply given up on trying to hide it, knowing we'll find out eventually. In any case, that he acts with good intentions is plain. So please, give him the benefit of the doubt.”
Alakhai did tilt her head this time, quizzically. “And why wouldn’t I?” she said drily.
“Call it precaution,” Y’shtola said. “Or calling it taking a page from Synnove’s book: saying a thing out loud makes it true.”
Well, she did have a point. Alakhai sighed, giving Y’shtola’s hand an acknowledging pat, and then went on her way, doing her best to ignore the “trees” the loporitts had created. They meant well, they really did, but this place had unsettled her more than anything else.
The lack of open sky probably wasn’t helping. Or maybe that would have made it worse.
By the time Alakhai had caught up enough to the elezen to get a glimpse of him, she had entered the Bestway Burrows proper, and Urianger was on his way to the exit. She titled her head thoughtfully; the area between them had one or two spots to duck behind, but once on the giant ramp sloping upwards, it was uncomfortably open.
Not the worst place she had ever snuck through.
There was enough noise inside the Burrows from the bustling loporitts and their duties that Alakhai didn’t have to worry about treading softly, even on the metal and stone; the sound of her footsteps was easily covered. It was once she had to follow Urianger outside that would be the most troublesome, she thought. The deep crevice would carry sound, and the steep path up to the flats of the lunar surface would provide an excellent vantage for Urianger should he believe he was being followed.
That strange aether construct in the shape of a long-haired dog ignored her, thankfully; shocking no one, it had been Synnove who had caught most of their interest, and the creature merely opened one human-like eye to see who was walking by them before resuming its nap. Alakhai twitched a grin; if she’d been Synnove, no doubt she would currently be under a giant pile of aetheric floof hoping for a scritch.
The path upward did have some cover for a mercy; she was taller than the average au ra woman, but she could still duck behind broken masonry or boulders and be perfectly unseen. And it was a good thing it was Urianger she was tailing, not Thancred: Urianger was an intelligent man with sharp senses, and he gave her a demon of a time staying out of his sight, but he didn’t have the field experience to know to look for footprints, and the lunar dust was thick and insidious, not easily blown away, and Alakhai didn’t have the time to brush the path behind her clean. She would probably teach him that trick, later.
Probably.
(A rogue needed some advantages.)
Eventually, she crested the rise that took her onto the surface of Mare Lamentorum, to see Urianger standing some distance away, shoulders slouched. There was no point to stealth now, and she walked forward with confidence. The crunch of her boots on dust and gravel must have alerted him, and Urianger turned, a rueful smile on his face.
“Thine arrival is as timely as ever,” he said.
Alakhai couldn’t help the grin that tugged at her lips. He always did do sarcasm well.
As she came to stand beside him, Urianger let out a long breath, not quite a sigh, and said, “Thou didst chance to overhear my conversation with Livingway, I presume?”
She nodded and shrugged, a simple what can do you motion. It had been purely an accident, but it certainly did smack of Livingway attempting to recruit Urianger for something, and as cute as the loporitts were, it was Alakhai’s job to be, quote Rereha, “a suspicious bitch.” And Urianger was family; it behooved her to find out what the poor man had landed in this time.
The sound that escaped Urianger this time was most certainly a sigh. “’Twas not mine intent to move in shadow,” the silver-haired man said, weariness blanketing him like a cloak. “Nevertheless, I have been asked to do that and more yet again…Is it so plain that these strangers could intuit it at a glance? My capacity for silence and secrecy…and duplicity.”
Alakhai’s eyes widened a fraction. Oh. Oh, that sounded like a man that needed to vent, and vent badly. He seemed a bit lost in his own head at the moment, and Alakhai deployed the skills she had honed managing Synnove in the depths of a research bender and hyperfocused on math: she very gently grasped him by the wrist, turned him slightly, and chivvied him over to a nearby outcropping of stone where she got him to sit down. And then she sat next to him, and slung her arm around his shoulders.
And Urianger just let it out without her needing to prompt him. His guilt about the First, about Minfilia, about Moenbryda, about whether or not he was doing the right thing. Alakhai listened; it was what she did best, honestly. She didn’t like to talk, and this was something Urianger needed to get off his chest without her interrupting anyway. Gods only knew how long this had eaten at him—her best guess was with Moenbryda’s death, years and years gone. It was a wonder it hadn’t festered into something ugly and bitter, but that spoke to Urianger’s strength of character and resolve.
“How do we make peace with the dreadful algebra of necessity?” he finished, anguish on his face and dripping from his words, fists clenched between his knees and head bowed.
Silence settled between them, and Alakhai sighed herself this time. Words were needed now, much as they weren’t her strength. “I’m shite at this,” she said bluntly. “I don’t have a good answer. Maybe Synnove would, or Heron. Maybe even Rere, wouldn’t that be something?”
A startled laugh left Urianger, and he nodded. “Aye,” he said, “Rereha hath a gift for surprising us with sudden wisdom and eloquence.”
“Fucking bards,” Alakhai said fondly, and squeezed her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “I think… I think we have to take it one day at a time, one decision at a time. And sometimes we have to have to admit that there’s no nice, tidy answer at the end of the day.”
Urianger drew his hand down his face, but some of the weariness had lifted from his shoulders. “I am not alone in my discomfort, then,” he said, “and odd as it may be, the knowledge doth bring me a modicum of comfort. I thank thee, Alakhai; for all my supposed skill with words, I find it difficult to express such private thoughts.”
“Glad to provide,” Alakhai said. And then, dropping her voice low, even though she was certain their voices hadn’t carried before, she added, “The bunnies are trying to spy on us.”
Urianger was good enough at spycraft to not give themselves away and startle or look towards the entrance to Bestway Burrows, but like her, he could probably see pairs of ears edging over the lip of a stone in the distance. A smile curved on his lips, and he murmured, “As for the Loporrits’ proposition…I will take time and consider how to respond. ‘Twould be to our mutual benefit if we could converse more openly with our aspiring caretakers…a concern I should be glad to address on the Scions’ behalf.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” Alakhai said, leaning away to knock her forehead against his shoulder. She said in rapid handsign, This talking thing sucks and I don’t know how to tell the bunnies to take a deep breath.
Her friend laughed softly and patted her knee. “To dispense with all pretense and bear one’s heart to another is a frightening thing indeed.” She gave him a dirty look that he ignored, well-used to her irritation when he gently called her out on her shite. “But we cannot move forward ere we take that bold first step. A lesson I have learned many times before…and today.”
Fond exasperation washed through her. That sounds like a humble-brag.
“It is not, and I would thank thee to refrain from such slander,” Urianger said primly, nose in the air with feigned hauteur. He stood up then, absently brushing dust from his robes. “In truth, my reason for traveling hither was to affect a plan of mine own. A plan which may pave a way forward for us all, but as with many things, has no guarantee of success.”
Alakhai snorted. “No need to ask,” she rasped, “of course I’ll help.”
Urianger smiled at her, that rare one of genuine happiness that he rarely let out, and held out his hand. She took it without fuss, letting him pull her to her feet.
If he had a plan, it was likely a good one. Time to deal with some well-meaning but troublesome bunnies.
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Hello! Can I request an imagine with Draco and a Slytherin! Reader where they both are totally in love with each other and maybe one day in class Draco is being particularly needy/frustrated one day and she’s his partner and sees he’s super hard and she teases him but when class is over he asks the reader to give him a blowjob because he loves her mouth and he’s just so whiny and he later spoils the hell out of his girl at Hogsmeade!
This is literally SOOOO LONG!! I don’t know why I wrote so much, but I just really wanted to include all that stuff, lol. My excuse for the length is that I hit a 1,000 followers about two days ago so this is the celebratory piece! 
This goes without saying, but this piece contains a lot of sexual content so please do not read if you are underage or uncomfortable with said topics. I also wrote this in a different perspective because I wanted to try it out so I hope you enjoy!
Warning: SMUT, Oral (Male Receiving)
Title: Princess
                                                 ϟ ϟ ϟ
It was a warm summer’s day, close to the start of the new term. These past few weeks at Malfoy Manor had been tense and Draco often found himself rather stressed . A large part of him felt guilty for leaving his mother at home in the presence of Lord Voldemort, but another part of him felt grateful to be out of his sight. Finally, he could escape the Dark Lord’s watchful eyes, but he could not escape the plan set for him to complete.
Draco’s eyebrows knitted together as he squinted towards the merchandise wall inside Twilfitt and Tattings. Even when he was not around, Draco could still sense the Dark Lord’s influence and the constant reminder of the outcome if he were to fail. However, as he thought of better ways to mend the vanishing cabinet, something caught his attention.  
“Draco darling,” You called to him, stepping out of the changing room with a small smile on your face. Draco’s eyes widened in an instant, a lump forming in his throat as he examined the champagne dress clinging to your body. It was a delicate number with thin, spaghetti strap sleeves attached to the cowl-neck gown, the silk fabric shimmering softly as you stepped onto the podium.  
With a content hum, Draco pushed himself off the wall, his grey eyes locked with yours in the shop mirror as he walked towards you. He rested his hand against your waist, his fingers tenderly sliding down to feel the smooth silk against them, “You look ravishing,” he whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss against the shell of it before stepping back to get a better view of you.  
You smiled satisfyingly, taking a moment to admire the all-black ensemble he wore and how it slimmed him down in all the right places. He stood in a black turtleneck and a fitted suit jacket, his left hand in the pocket of his slacks while the thumb of the other swiped over his bottom lip. A string of questions crossed through Draco’s mind, “When would you wear this?” he thought, tapping his finger against his chin.  
Surely, there was no surprise ball this year, he would’ve heard by now. “Would you wear it on a date?” he questioned, imagining a scenario where the two of you ate dinner at a fancy restaurant, illuminated by just candlelight. “Even better,” Draco trailed off, his eyes lingering over your arse as you admired yourself in the mirror, looking over your shoulder to see the diamond detail that connected the open back, “What would such an expensive piece of clothing look like on his dormitory floor?”  
Draco recalled the conversation he shared with his mother a week prior, where she had counseled him after a particularly difficult day. Narcissa Malfoy had an interesting way of comforting her son. Of course, she sat and listened to him, holding him as he cried, a mixture of guilt and failure coursing through her veins as she fought against the Dark Lord’s plans for her beloved son. The next day, however, she entered Draco’s room with a smile and presented a brand-new wardrobe for him as a start of term gift.  
Pulling himself away from his thoughts, Draco gave a gentle smile and looked up at you, instantly meeting your hopeful eyes.  
“Oh, those eyes” 
“I’m not sure if I should get it,” You admitted, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as you hopped off the podium and halted in front of the platinum-haired boy. Closing his eyes, Draco took a deep breath, captivated by the intoxicating smell of vanilla radiating off your body. An exquisite aroma, packaged in a —hand-blown— glass perfume bottle with delicate golden leaves painted onto it, finished off with your initials carved at the bottom of it.  
Another one of Draco’s thoughtful gifts.  
“And why is that?” asked Draco, his hand resting against the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing small circles against your jaw. The dress was cut just right, the tight, draped bodice granted him a wonderful view of your breasts, but he looked away to halt the tightening of his pants.  
“I’ve got no occasion for a dress like this,” declared a slightly defeated (Y/N), taking another glance in the mirror, “Well, we’ve still got the goodbye dinner with your parents” You recalled, running your hands down your hips, unintentionally catching Draco’s attention as he remembered the family dinner he had forgotten about. 
“That settles it then,” announced Draco in a chipper tone, “I’ll buy the dress,” he grinned, stepping towards his girlfriend, but halting by the display of diamond accessories. With a glance over the merchandise, he pointed at a necklace set with a pair of earrings, receiving praises from the shopkeeper. Taking the necklace from the older wizard, Draco walked over to (Y/N), “turn around,” he uttered and you happily obliged, watching him as he placed the delicate piece around your neck.  
“Draco-” you began to protest, but he only pressed a kiss against your cheek, clasping the necklace and letting his fingers linger at the back of your neck. The necklace was a breathtaking, diamond necklace with seven glittering emeralds spread evenly across the center.  
“The bracelet and earrings will do nicely as well,” Draco said, nodding his head in approval and signaling for the shopkeeper to begin ringing them up. You opened your mouth to protest again, but Draco placed his finger against your lips, “I believe you recall what I’ve told you, hm?” he teased, raising a questioning eyebrow as (Y/N) nodded, fighting back a smile, “Then, let Daddy spoil you, Princess.”  
There was no denying the power Draco’s tone held over you. His words shot straight between your legs, the feeling of his lips pressed against the side of your neck making you fall against him, finally becoming aware of his erection now pressed against your thigh. 
“Let's finish up so we can go back to the Manor,” you proposed, shifting your thigh ever so slightly to provide him with some much-needed friction. Draco bit his lip and gave a stiff nod, stepping away from you before you could tease him further.  
“Go change,” he ordered, the cocky smirk returning to his lips, “You’ve got five minutes.” Running back towards the dressing room, you peeled off the dress and stepped into your usual clothes, practically sprinting out of it once finished. After a hasty checkout, the two of you exited the shop hand-in-hand, the bag containing your gifts swinging in Draco’s other hand.
                                                             ϟ ϟ ϟ
This school year proved to be the most difficult one yet. N.E.W.T.s we’re now less than a year away and it was never too soon to begin revising. You, however, found it quite difficult to focus on school these last few days. Despite his constant reassurances that he was all right, (Y/N) found some of Draco’s recent behavior quite odd. This strange feeling first arose the week you stayed at Malfoy Manor, where the four of them sat cautiously at a table with Draco’s aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. You had always had a good relationship with Draco’s relatives, but it was clear to you something was occurring under wraps, something Draco did not want you to know about. Noting his hesitation whenever you brought up the subject, you decided against prying any more information out of him and returned to your studies. Your dedication to academic achievement, much to your surprise, did not go unnoticed by the new Potions Master at Hogwarts, who had heard all about you and Miss Hermione Granger, the two top students of the sixth year.  
Horace Slughorn was a portly, older man, but very gifted with potions and an excellent Professor. Upon arrival, he sought out some of the school’s most promising students and invited them to his office for an elegant dinner. One morning, during breakfast, your owl dropped the intricately decorated envelope right in front of your plate. You had no chance to conceal the envelope from your curious boyfriend, the same one that had tried, without succeeding, to get invited to said dinner.  
However, to your surprise, Draco was not upset. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss against your temple and muttered the words, “You deserve it, baby girl.” The pet name sends chills down your spine, a smile playing at your lip as his hand rests upon your knee, the cold metal of his rings easing any sort of tension in your body. His left hand rested against your jawline, his slender fingers twiddling with the pearl earring, admiring the small ruby motif encrusted right above the hanging pearl.  
(Y/N) leaned her cheek against his palm, setting the invitation down on the dining hall table, “Are you sure, Darling?” you questioned, taking the time to rest your hand over his, “I might not be able to fit it into my schedule...” you admitted, thoughts of Draco’s mysterious disappearances crossing your mind. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, Draco pressed a soft kiss against the back of it before leaning to press one against your lips.  
“I think,” he started, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, “You should go show them what the brightest, most caring, and, without a doubt, sexiest girl in Slytherin House has to offer” Draco praised, giving your thigh a small squeeze before dipping to steal another kiss from you, “How does that sound?” He asked sweetly, showering you with yet another kiss, this one against your forehead.  
It was no secret that Draco Malfoy and (Y/N) (L/N) were truly and undeniably in love. Often, the corridors were filled with the incessant whispers of jealous girls who longed for Draco’s attention, but he paid no attention to them. The Slytherin Prince only had eyes for you, the only constant ray of sunshine in his life. Whenever he looked at you, he reminded himself of his vow to keep you completely satisfied, and the only reward he wanted was seeing that gorgeous smile on your face. You were everything to him. You were the only one who knew about his previous family troubles, the one who would hold him when he cried during the late hours of the evening. The one who would fix his tie the second it seemed out of place, the one who would rub his shoulders whenever you noticed him bent over his assignments.  
He would do everything and anything to ensure you felt like the luckiest girl in the world because he knew you, out of all people, deserved it the most.  
”You make an excellent point, Mr. Malfoy,” You grinned, nodding your head in agreement, and flinging your arms around his shoulders. A soft smile crept up Draco’s lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest and placing a kiss at the top of your head.  
“Don’t I always?” teased Draco, running his fingers through your hair as the other students exited the Great Hall and made their way towards the classes. Rolling your eyes at his response, you placed your hand against his cheek, stealing a kiss from him this time and rising from your seat.  
“We should go,” you announced, stretching your hand out for him to grab, which he happily obliged, rising from the bench and escorting you to your classroom.  
                                          ϟ ϟ ϟ
 A week had passed since Slughorn’s dinner party, the memory of the evening still fresh in Draco’s mind as he tapped his fingers against the wooden desk. Needless to say, he was not particularly pleased with the events of last Saturday. One of Slughorn’s guests had taken quite the liking to you, practically undressing you with his eyes during breakfast hours, something Draco found incredibly disrespectful. He recalled the way Cormac McLaggen eyed you this morning when you bent over to kiss your boyfriend goodbye, skipping out of the Great Hall without a care in the world.  
Draco clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as his eyebrows knitted together, sparks of frustration igniting within him. Not only was McLaggen ogling you like you were his last meal, but he was also casually brushing up beside you in the corridors, shooting Draco arrogant smirks when they locked eyes.  
Oh, how he would love to jinx that insufferable look off his face. Yeah, that’ll show him.  
He should have been paying attention to Professor Flitwick discussing the proper hand movement for the Gouging Spell, but the thoughts of McLaggen badgering you when he was not around boiled his blood. In hindsight, it was a good thing he was neglecting this lesson because the prospect of gouging a large hole through Cormac seemed very appealing. 
You were particularly busy this week and did not have a lot of time to spend with Draco. Sure, the two of you bid your usual goodnights in the Slytherin common room, but your studying had kept you away from Draco. Due to this, Draco Malfoy was left very touch starved and found himself daydreaming of your earlier rendezvous around the castle.  
Draco turned his head towards you, his face relaxing at once as he watched you diligently taking notes, as usual. You had your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing it softly as your quill scratched against the parchment. With a content sigh, he admired your concentration and wondered how a person could be that gorgeous. He was, truly, the luckiest man in the world when it came to you.  
He supposed that one could not blame McLaggen for falling for you- I mean, who wouldn’t? Any person would be swept off their feet if you entered the room wearing those silk dresses you were oh so fond of. Draco glanced down at those pretty, pink lips of yours, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head as you parted them, tongue swiping over your upper lip as you added the final details to your diagram.  
Biting his lip, Draco forced his attention towards Professor Flitwick, but it was already too late. The thoughts of you, sprawled across his bed at Malfoy Manor were enough to replace his earlier frustrations with feelings of lust.  
“Stop,” thought Draco, closing his eyes to contain his feelings, but it was no use. Your lips made an “O” shape when you finally grasped the Charms concepts, making goosebumps appear on Draco’s skin as he shuddered.  
What he would do to have you begging for him right now.  
His pants grew considerably tighter and he couldn’t help but feel grateful towards the school uniforms. The robe he was wearing did a decent job at hiding his current problem, but he knew it would be noticeable when he stood. However, that did not stop him from hearing the way you called his name in the back of his head.  
“Please, Draco...”
“Fuck,” cursed Draco under his breath, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, a slight touch of pink dusting his cheeks. Unable to keep his eyes away, Draco looked back towards you, scanning the soft skin of your neck, and noting how awfully bare it looked. With his self-restraint wavering, he subtly slid down the bench you shared and rested his hand on your knee, something he did quite often. However, you did not question him until you felt his lips against your neck and a hand wrapped tightly around your thigh. Turning your head to face him, you were surprised to see him with his hand over his mouth, his eyes averted from yours as his fingers danced against the smooth skin of your inner thigh.  
“Draco,” you cooed, but the only response you received was a rather harsh nip at your neck, “Draco, someone will see…”  
“I don’t care,” Draco snarled against your ear, “I need this bloody class to be over…” He murmured in a much softer tone, his hand rubbing circles against your thigh and inching closer to your clothed heat. But once you turned to scold him, you noticed the dark, red blush that painted his cheeks and felt his hot breath fanning against your face.  
“Are you alright?” you asked cautiously, innocently rubbing your thumb against his thigh, but that only made Draco twitch in his seat, and his reaction suddenly lit the bulb over your head. Your lips curled into a smirk as your hand moved closer to the bulge on Draco’s pants, turning your attention towards the front of the class as you continued your movements.  
Luckily, the two of you sat at the farthest end of the Charms classroom, away from any overly inquisitive eyes. You were certain nobody would notice, if Draco kept his cool, the two of you would be in the clear.  
“Couldn’t even wait till class was over?” You tutted, delicately tracing your fingers over his crotch, and smirking as he shifted in his seat, “Be careful, I don’t want us to get caught.” You added, firmly cupping his erection through his slacks, a wide grin spreading across your face as he doubled down and hid his face behind a book he propped up. It was honestly quite surprising to see Draco this way. Usually, he would be the one teasing you to no end, but you were currently in control and that was enough to light the fire of your arousal.  
“D-Don’t stop,” Draco pleaded under his breath, biting down on his thumb to hold back a moan as your palm worked to release the built-up tension. Encouraged by his dick twitching underneath your hand, you quickened your pace and watched as he parted his lips, struggling to keep any sound from coming out. As his breathing grew more ragged, you felt his abdominal muscles tense up against your touch, indicating that his release would wash over him soon.  
Fighting to keep the small sense of composure he had left, Draco gripped (Y/N)’s wrist and halted her movements. It took him a minute to catch his breath, but when he did, he spoke in a low whisper, “Wait...” His eyes never met yours because if he looked into those beautiful eyes of yours, he would not be able to control himself. And although the prospect of taking you over the desk seemed quite promising, he did not fancy the idea of letting the rest of the student body see you bent over in such a vulnerable state.  
That was only for him, of course.  
“What’s wrong, Darling?” You teased letting your fingers trace over his crotch again, but he only clicked his tongue at you. Draco knew you too well, he knew you were only trying to rile him up again, but he could not let that happen, not right now. With adrenaline coursing through your body, you leaned towards Draco and let your breath fan against his neck before licking a stripe behind his ear, “Didn’t want to come all over those expensive slacks of yours, hm?” You murmured, gently nipping his earlobe, and taking his momentary lapse of strength to palm his erection once more.  
Draco gritted his teeth once again, pulling your hand away from his pants, “I said wait,” he growled, his lust-clouded eyes finally meeting yours, “You do know how to follow instructions, don’t you?” He asked in a much harsher, more desperate tone.  
“Depends on who’s giving them.” You replied sarcastically, placing your free hand on his knee with a smirk.  
However, Draco did not get a chance to shoot his response back at you. Once the bell signaling the end of class rang, he shot up off his seat and gathered both your belongings before taking your hand and hastily pulling you out of the classroom. A few students stared as the two of you rushed down the hall, blushing in embarrassment as you stumbled after Draco.
His hand gripped yours tightly, leading you towards the Prefects’ bathroom, and stuttering out the password once the two of you arrived. Flinging your book bags across the floor, Draco turned and stalked towards you making you step back until your back hit something solid.
“Think you’re funny, are you?” sneered Draco, pinning you against one of the cubicles, his thigh pressed firmly between your legs and his right forearm braced beside your head. Replicating your earlier movements, Draco dragged his tongue underneath your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, making you gasp. “Why don’t we put that filthy mouth of yours to better use?” He cooed, blowing a puff of air against your ear, and admiring it as it turned red.  
With a sudden burst of confidence, you gripped his robes and pulled his face towards yours, breaths mingling together, “I think,” You muttered, leaning your lips close to his, “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day…” Looking up at his half-lidded eyes, you crashed your lips against Draco’s, fingers immediately tangling themselves in his hair. Draco returned your kiss eagerly, his hands cupping your arse underneath your skirt and pulling your body flush against his.  
You could feel Draco growing more impatient by the minute. His hands were grabbing desperately at your skin, squeezing every inch of bare flesh he could feel. Longing to have you closer to him, Draco slipped his hand underneath your thigh and hooked it over his hip, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. Your back arched off the wall, hips grinding against Draco’s as your tongues laced together in a heated kiss. Tugging at your tie, Draco reached to unbutton your blouse and pulled it open, exposing your bra-clad breasts.  
He pressed his lips against the base of your neck, biting and sucking encouraged by your moans beside his ear. One of his hands held your thigh firmly while the other kneaded your left breast, pulling the fabric of your bra down and taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You gasped harshly, bucking into him, and digging your fingers into his hair, messing up the parts that remained previously neat. Draco rolled his erection against your soaked panties, smiling down at your face as his hands kneaded your clothed breasts, “So pretty,” he murmured, captivated by your flushed face and the shameful sounds passing through your lips.  
Your hands reached up to grab his face, pulling him down for another kiss. This time, using the momentum to switch your positions so Draco’s back hit the stall door, earning a small moan of surprise from him. Grinning up at him, you pressed your lips against his neck and slid your hand down the front of his body, cupping him firmly as you sucked the sensitive skin. 
Draco let out gasping breaths as you moved your hand, his fingers digging into your waist, “On your knees,” commanded Draco, trying to regain some sort of control over the situation. You obliged happily, dropping down to your knees and lazily running your fingers over his thighs before reaching up for his belt. After fiddling with the buckle, you took your time sliding Draco’s slacks down, purposely neglecting his throbbing dick hidden in his underwear.  
“Don’t be a tease,” snapped Draco, gripping your chin harshly, “Suck,” He commanded firmly, releasing you as you pulled down his boxer briefs. Draco’s thick length snapped up towards his lower abs, almost slapping you in the face when it sprung out of its constraints. Almost drooling at the glorious sight of his cock, you took it in your hand, running your thumb over the pre-cum leaking out of the reddened tip. Draco bucked his hips forwards, hissing at the light touch, and looking down at your concentrated expression as you slowly pumped your hand.  
Lolling your tongue out dramatically, you leaned forwards and gave the tip a kitten lick, earning a frustrated groan from Draco. Satisfied with his discomfort, you gave the swollen tip another kiss before taking his length fully into your mouth. He let out a strangled gasp in response, his eyes squeezed shut as you enthusiastically licked up his length. Sealing off your lips, much like a vacuum seal, you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, tongue swirling around it as Draco trembled underneath you, his hand over his mouth attempting to stifle the sounds coming out of it.  
Draco looked down at you, unable to control the string of low moans and grunts spewing from his lips. The sight of your plump lips stretching around his cock made him lose the few ounces of coherent thoughts he had left in his mind. Draco let out another strangled moan, throwing his head back against the stall door as you swirl your tongue around his shaft and use your hand to pump the base of his cock. His hand flew to the back of your head when you moved to take all of him in your mouth, your nose brushing the trimmed tufts of hair as you choked around him, the contraction of your throat making him groan out your name.  
With another husky moan, Draco balled your hair up into a ponytail and used it as leverage to thrust into your mouth. “Yes, yes,” whimpered Draco, his face flushed red and his breath caught in his throat, “Just like that, (Y/N)” he hissed, his grey eyes flickering down and meeting yours, making his roll back again as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your fingernails dug into the back of his thighs, squeezing them tighter as he quickened his pace. You moaned around his dick, the vibrations sending a violent quake through his body as he face-fucked you, his climax only moments away.  
“Ah, you take my cock so well, Princess” groaned Draco, his pace stuttering, “You’re so bloody gorgeous” He sighed, his fingers delving tightly into your hair as you continued to swirl your tongue around the shaft, relaxing your jaw to let the tip of his penis hit the back of your throat.  
The sounds coming from Draco’s mouth had you soaking wet and yearning to feel his load shoot down your throat. Determined to finish him off, you moved your hand to fondle his balls, moaning with satisfaction as his cock pulsated in your mouth. His breaths grew ragged and the only sounds coming from him were small whimpers and grunts. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, his platinum blonde hair fell messily over his eyes, which were currently screwed shut as his face twisted with pleasure.   
Draco’s eyes fluttered open, meeting your eager ones for a second time, but it was too much. Cursing loudly, Draco’s pace grew sloppier and rougher, his body trembling as you fondled his balls once again.  
“(Y/N)!” He cried out as you gagged around him, thick ropes of cum coating the inside of your mouth as he came, hard. You struggled to swallow his heavy load, but you were adamant on taking every last drop, just how he liked it. Draco gasped as he caught his breath, his hand still in your hair as he gave your mouth two final shallow thrusts, pulling out as you licked him clean.  
With his chest heaving, Draco delicately placed his hand against your cheek and slid his thumb over your swollen lips. You press a chaste kiss against the pad of his thumb, the corners of your mouth curling up into a loving smile. He brought you back up to your feet, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all tongue before pulling away with a satisfied smile on his face.  
“You’re quite chipper now, aren’t you?” You teased, hitting him playfully on the shoulder as he pulled his slacks up, tucking his shirt back into his pants and shooting you a wink.  
“Yes, actually,” He retorted, his usual smirk appearing on his lips, “And why is that?” You asked, taking the time to button your own shirt, blushing as Draco stalked towards you. He placed his hand on the side of your neck, pulling down your collar to admire the angry, red marks that decorated it.  
With a small huff, he dipped down and sucked on the spot below your jaw, your knees buckling and hands gripping his shoulders as he bit down. Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Draco pulled away, smirking at the mark that would surely be visible for days.  
“Because I’m the only one who gets to have you like this,” admitted Draco, pulling you into a hug and resting his chin atop your head, “Can’t wait until I catch McLoser drooling over you, I’ll make sure to remind him who he’s dealing with.”  
You laughed at Draco’s declaration, your arms tightening around him as you embraced, “Are you ready for lunch then? He could already be there” You teased, pressing a kiss against his nose, and pulling away to pick up your bag from the bathroom floor. Draco chuckled as you skipped back towards him, giving your behind a playful smack as you walked past him, “Don’t run off thinking I won’t return the favor,” stated Draco salaciously, catching your hand and pulling you back before you could exit the bathroom.  
You looked up at him with a curious expression, “Is that so?” You questioned with a grin, walking towards him, and placing your hand on his chest, “Is it something I should look forward to?” You asked, tilting your head to the side innocently.  
Draco laughed, raising his hand to cup your cheek, “Come to my room tonight at eleven, wearing that pretty little dress from Twilfitt and Tattings,” muttered Draco, his lips close to yours once again, “I’ll make it worth your while,” he winked, his fingers dipping underneath your skirt to swipe over your clothed core.  
Shivering under his touch, you blushed embarrassingly as he examined the slick now coating his finger, “All for me, Princess?” He teased, contently licking his finger clean and grabbing his own book bag, “Actually, I was thinking about McLaggen” you quipped, stepping out of the Prefect’s bathroom with a bounce in your step which Draco followed after, his eyebrows furrowed as he flanked you. 
“Careful, Love” warned Draco with a hum, his hand sliding into yours as you walked, “or I’ll have to teach that naughty mouth of yours another lesson.”
                                               ϟ ϟ ϟ
 Your four-year anniversary drew nearer, and you found yourself worried about Draco’s behavior yet again. He grew increasingly distant as the term progressed and you could not help but worry, despite his constant reassurances, stating there was nothing to worry about. This, again, left you feeling frustrated. You and Draco started dating during your third year and it had taken a while to break down his walls to understand him, but now it seemed like some of that progress was overturned. 
However, when he was around, he always made the effort to shower you with affection and ensure you were being taken care of. Draco knew your habits better than anything, he knew you would be questioning his behavior and launching your own investigations to find the underlying cause of it, but he could not let you interfere. He was already under fire for having ‘distractions’ and had promised the Dark Lord nothing would come in the way of his success.  
To keep you safe, you had to be left in the dark. It wounded Draco to see that distraught expression on your face when he came into the common room past midnight, sometimes even asleep, curled up on the couch waiting for him to return. He felt guilty for putting you through all this, but it was necessary for your safety and nothing was more important than protecting you.  
His nights were constantly haunted by horrifying images of you injured or worse, dead in his arms after some terrible mistake he made. These thoughts were constantly wearing him down, but he could not tell you, it was just too risky to involve you in this situation. This stressful internal struggle encouraged Draco to show you how much you meant to him.  
He wanted you to know that you were, truly, the most important person in his life.  
“Draco,” You whined with your hands over your eyes as Draco led you through the empty streets of Hogsmeade, “Can’t I just open my eyes? I’ve been to Hogsmeade plenty of times” you reminded him, but he only chuckled beside you, holding you by the waist as you walked.  
“I’m trying to surprise you,” Draco stated, rolling his eyes, “So why don’t you stop complaining and follow me.” He declared, pressing a kiss against your cheek, and leading you towards the clothing shops in the village. Draco halted in front of a large store window, looking up at the dress and envisioning you in them with a proud grin.  
“Alright,” he started, grabbing the hands that covered your face, “Ready?” He murmured, pressing a kiss against her fingertips as you nodded. Counting to three, Draco pulled your hands away from your face and stepped out of your view, letting you take in the sight before you.  
In front of you stood a tall mannequin wearing a floor-length shimmering, emerald green gown with small silver detailing the bust, “Wow” you muttered breathlessly, leaning closer to the window to get a better look of the design. The mannequin turned 180 degrees, giving her a better view of the open back and long train that followed the dress.  
“Do you like it?” Draco asked, looking down at his ring with a content smile on his face. 
Your eyes scanned over the glittering, diamond pendant necklace complete with matching water drop earrings, “It’s gorgeous,” you replied, looking over at your boyfriend with a puzzled expression, “Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?” You asked, quirking your eyebrow at him as he laughed.  
“You know me well, Darling” Draco admitted sheepishly, leading you towards the door of the stop and holding it open, “I just thought, since you’ve been attending Slughorn’s dinner parties, that you would need some more evening outfits to show off,” He stated proudly, his hand against the small of your back as he gestured you towards the changing rooms.  
“Draco, I couldn’t possibly! You bought me one at the start of term!” You protested, grabbing his hands but part of you knew his mind was already made up. 
“You’re right,” He agreed with a nod, placing his hand against your cheek, “And I’m going to buy you four more today,” He stated nonchalantly, looking back at the four sets of the dresses brought over by the shopkeeper, “You better get started,” he urged, taking a seat on the ottoman in front of the dressing room.  
With a loving smile, you captured Draco’s lips in a kiss, “I love you” You said, squeezing his hand as he returned your smile.  
“And I love you most,” He replied, pressing a kiss against your forehead, and urging towards the dressing room, “Come on, I want to see how stunning you look in those.” Giggling, you ran into the changing room, winking back at Draco before sliding the curtain close and getting into the first dress.  
Several hours later, you and Draco exited the shop with four bags containing various dresses, jewelry pieces, and, even, a brand-new suit. After one final stop at Honeydukes, the two of you made your way towards the castle, treasuring the time you spent together and the memories you created while doing so.
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starryevermore · 3 years
Text
just like her: i might go with it (21) ✧ andy barber
just like her ✧ an andy barber series | ao3
pairing: dark!andy barber x fem!reader
summary: everything’s change, except it hasn’t. 
word count: 1,308
warning(s): pet name (sunshine), not proofread
note: there is no set update schedule for this; new parts come whenever they come.
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Ten Years Later
Life in Washington state was good. Nay, it was wonderful. You didn’t have to worry. You didn’t have to look over your shoulder. You didn’t have to panic every time you saw a strange shadow. No, you felt free. You felt calm. You felt at ease. 
You had everything you could have wanted, sure. You had a nice home. You had plenty of money. As a young attorney, you were fortunate enough to represent clients who had received large awards and, as their attorney, you received a good portion of those awards. You could retire whenever you want and surely be in a safe position for the rest of your life. 
And yet, you didn’t feel happy. 
There was nothing here for you, if you were being honest. You despised your colleagues. You felt your professional career was coming to a halt, if only because you lost the passion for it. You were a spitfire in the courtroom. You could bring any opposing counsel to their knees. Rumor had it, there were considerations to nominate you for judgeship. A decade ago, it would have been everything you could’ve dreamed of. Now? 
Now it felt like you were just going through the motions of it all. Now, you were looking for a change in your career. Still in the legal profession, sure. But perhaps a different area of it. Perhaps something different from the same old, same old. 
And like a saving grace…You received a phone call. 
“Y/N Y/L/N, you are a difficult woman to track down indeed.”
You laughed, shifting the phone from one ear to the other. “I doubt that, Donella.”
“Maybe I exaggerate,” she conceded. “But, I feel like the dramatics are appropriate.”
“Do you mean to tell me or am I supposed to start guessing why you’ve called me?” you asked. 
“I’ll tell you. There’s a position at the school that’s opened,” she said. 
In the years that followed after graduating and passing the bar, Donella had spent a few years solely dedicated to practicing the law. But, as she made headway in the field, she found herself wanting to give back to future lawyers. She began teaching at the law school, rising in ranks until she had become dean the year previous. 
“Are you asking what I think you are?”
“No. I’m telling you to apply. No questions here,” she said. “You keep talking about wanting a change. So apply. I have no doubt that you’ll be hired, and that’s not my bias speaking, I promise. You’re exactly what we’re looking for.”
“You know what could happen if I came back…”
You had told her about Andy after you moved to Washington state. She asked why you seemed to be running, and you couldn’t keep it from her any longer. She was horrified by it. She wanted to do something, but you both knew the odds. Nothing ever comes from cases like this. 
“I know. But maybe things are different now.”
There was a hint of hope in her voice, and you wish you could dream the way she did. Sure, you didn’t even know if Andy was still in Massachusetts or not. You didn’t even know if he was in the same city. 
“He’s moved to Newton, if that helps,” Donella said. “He’s got a son now. He seems to be busy.”
“That means nothing. He was engaged when we met, he was married when we…” You squeezed your eyes shut. “I want to do it, I really do. I miss home. I just…”
“I know. But, we can make a plan? We can keep tabs on him just as he’s kept tabs on you. If we know when he’ll strike before he does…Maybe we could avoid it.”
Oh, you hated how Andy was still controlling your life, even when you hadn’t heard from him or seen him in years. He still had a tight grip on you, even though you thought it had loosened. 
“You want to stalk the stalker.”
“Nothing may come of it,” Donella said. “But I think this is a situation where better safe than sorry couldn’t be more true. And…I miss my best friend.”
“I miss you, too.” You looked out your office window, looking at the rain beating against the windows. “I’ll apply.”
“And I’ll see you in the interview.”
“So confident,” you laughed. 
And though your anxieties were spiking, you were sure that everything would be okay. After all, weren’t you tortured enough for a lifetime?
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It felt like Andy’s hands never left you. You had no alone time anymore. You were a few months along now, and Andy was insistent you begin your bed rest. The only times you were allowed up was to go to the bathroom, shower, to go to the doctor, and to take approved walks around the yard with Andy’s supervision. Otherwise, you were trapped in bed, and Andy was usually with you. He would lay with you, running his hand over your belly, pressing kisses to it, caressing you as he told you about all of the plans he had for your family, for his family. 
Your walks were your only solace. At least when you were outside, you could focus on something other than his touch. You would look around, try to figure out where you were. But there was nothing, no indication of where he had taken you. 
You were only ever allowed in the backyard, where there was a large expanse of trees surrounding the property, shielding your view of anything and everything. From the front of the property, which you could only see from the living room window, there was nothing. Only a long driveway and what felt like miles of yard that eventually expanded too far out for you to make out anything. 
Going out to the doctor or to buy baby supplies did nothing to help, either. Andy gave you something so you would sleep on the drive, so you missed everything that you drove past. You never saw any landmarks. Never saw any road signs or anything like that. Even in the buildings you went to, he made sure that you never got to see the addresses that were listed on business cards or flyers. 
It worried you, if you were being honest. The plan could still work without knowing where you were, you were sure. Except, not entirely. If you were too far out, they might know who you are. They might not take you seriously. They may think it a joke or a prank. They might not call the police. 
It worried you very deeply, made you feel so sick you wanted to pass out. 
“What are you thinking about, sunshine?” Andy asked, squeezing your hand. 
“The baby,” you said. 
“Me too,” he said. “Have I told you I hope it’s a girl?”
“You have, yes,” you said. “You said you wanted a little princess to spoil.”
He smiled fondly. “I do. Have you given any thought to her name? Or his name, if it’s a boy?”
“There’s a few names I’ve considered.” And you didn’t want to tell them what they truly were. You wanted those names to be untainted when you were finally free. “I was thinking Belle or maybe Ella for a girl, so she’s truly a princess. For a boy…I’m sure. Perhaps Andrew, after you? It could be a new tradition for our family, giving the first born son your name.”
He liked that, his smile growing. “How considerate of you, sunshine.”
“I aim to please,” you joked, laughing as he laughed. 
But as he fell silent, you went back to thinking of your plans. You needed to figure out what you were going to say. You needed to have it perfect. You had only one chance. You couldn’t ruin it.
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vintagedaydreams · 3 years
Text
Hey guys- not a TLNRS update, I know. But not something I’ve been writing instead either! I actually found this on my phone.
It’s not complete- more of a scene. And it won’t ever be completed. But if you want to run with it- go for it.
Sorry it’s so long without a page break.
Warnings: some strong language, talk of suicide. Not as dark as it sounds.
You work at MI6 in the Admin/Research dept. working on cover stories and recon work for locations/marks/etc.
You work with a handful of other people in the dept and you have a good pal in your desk mate: Katelyn.
All of the agents-Double Ohs included - go into the Research Dept frequently to get folders on their missions and their marks. Everybody knows you-everybody likes you. You’re competent and your peers usually have you look over their work as well when dealing with difficult marks or missions.
You jumped on the couch as the door slammed open, bouncing off the wall. Scrambling to your feet, you looked over to see James Bond filling the doorway, blue eyes spitting sparks. You took a moment to admire him, his aura of danger and confidence dark and practically pulsing around him, before you realized with a start that he was glaring at you.
“…Bond?” you asked hesitantly and, apparently taking that as permission, he stalked into your small apartment in the heart of London. The door was shut in much the same way as it was opened and you gave a wince for your poor neighbors.
“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, voice pitched low and dangerous. You shivered at the tone, though it wasn’t in fear. Oh dear. You were in trouble.
“Um,” you looked around in confusion at the half eaten tub of ice cream and the movie playing quietly in the background, “no?” It was stated more than asked. Especially since he seemed to have an answer to his question already.
“Then you won’t mind if I join you,” he almost snarled, making his way over to you. Your eyes, about the size of dinner plates by now, widened even more.
“What?” you squeaked out. Bond, the James Bond was all but foaming at the mouth and he was going to stay?
“Going to interrupt any plans of yours?” he bit out and you blinked.
“Plans? Um, no…” A low rumbling sounded through the apartment .
“Are you….are you growling at me?” you gaped in disbelief. Suddenly, you found yourself gripped by strong hands, Bond an inch away from you.
“Don’t lie to me, Y/N,” he ground out and the anger that had been slowly building at all his growls and snarls finally sprung forth.
“What are you talking about, Bond?” you growled right back. He blinked for a moment before his face darkened even further than before.
The man stepped closer, if that was possible until you were flush against each other. You felt your stomach flip and you gulped, looking up into his eyes.
Blue eyes stared down at you and the hands gripping your shoulders loosened ever so slightly before he gave you a small shake.
“Katelyn told me about your conversation,” he intoned darkly, an eyebrow rising in a challenge to deny it. Your brow furrowed.
“Conversation? What conversation?” Katelyn and you had had many conversations, the most recent of them centering around the man in your apartment, but you had no idea what topic could have Bond so…well, upset was a bit tame for his current mood….
“Did you really think that I wouldn’t find out?” he growled out, effectively bringing your thoughts back to him. Find out….? Find out!
Your eyes widened. Katelyn wouldn’t…she wouldn’t have told him about your conversation yesterday when you’d said that you were pretty sure you were attracted to 007! No, she wouldn’t have thought that was a big enough deal to tell the Double-Oh in question. Everyone thought that man was attractive.
Then what…?
“You should know by now, that when I claim people as mine, I take an interest in their lives,” Bond continued, eyes glaring down at you. Apparently your silence had already condemned you.
You fought the major blush that threatened to make itself known at his wording. Claimed you as his? Oh, if only!
“Bond,” you started, voice mellow and as soothing as you could make it.
“Don’t,” he interrupted, low and dangerous. You sighed.
“What are you so worked up about? I’m sure everyone’s thought it at least once!” you defended yourself. Really, the only possible answer to his mood was that Katelyn had told him, for whatever reason, that you found him attractive. And apparently, he didn’t like that.
Ouch. There went your pride and self esteem.
“That’s your excuse?” he demanded, voice sounding almost incredulous. “So because everyone else has thought it, you can too?”
“Not quite what I meant,” you muttered as his grip tightened once again. “I just meant that it shouldn’t be a big deal to you! I’m not the first!”
The room went deadly silent and you hesitantly gazed into the glacier eyes above you. You didn’t understand what was so terrible about you finding him attractive, (were you that repulsive?), but he really was making too big a deal out of it. You were shy! It’s not like you would’ve ever said or done anything to him!
“Never say it shouldn’t be a big deal to me,” Bond suddenly hissed and you felt a bit uneasy at the look on his face. You weren’t afraid of him, but you knew what he could do and you also knew that he had a reputation for being unpredictable and out of control. You were in hot water and just starting to realize it.
“Really, Bond,” you murmured, trying to salvage the situation before somebody, most likely you, got hurt, “it’s really not that big of a deal. Can we just…forget I ever said it and you ever heard it?”
His hands tightened on your arms even further and you knew there’d be bruises there tomorrow.
“No,” he answered, voice deadly soft, “I will not forget it.” Suddenly he ripped himself away from you and started pacing the floor furiously.
“Damn it, Y/N! Why can’t you take this seriously?! Do you have any idea, any idea at all, what was going through my head when Katelyn told me? No, of course you don’t. Well, let me tell you something, Y/L/N,” he snarled, “if you want to commit suicide and ‘end it all’ then I suggest you find yourself another job. Because if you stay at MI6, you’re mine and I am not going to let anybody, least of all you, take you away from me!”
Once again, silence rang out in your apartment and you stood there, gaping at Bond.
“Commit…..what?” you asked, mentally going over all your conversations with Katelyn. You telling her that you were going to ‘end it all’ was never part of any of them. YOu were actually quite happy with life where you were, thank you very much. Granted, it’d be better if you had a certain someone to share it with, but suicide? Yeah, never touched on that topic.
“I know your vocabulary is better than that,” Bond spat, finally stopping his pacing. You flinched at the acid in his tone.
“Bond, I never—“
“Expected her to squeal? No kidding. I figured that you didn’t want her to, if our little conversation a minute ago was any indication.”
“No, Bond, I was under the impression—“
“That I didn’t care? Yeah, got that one too. Well here’s a news flash for you, I do. And I will. So I suggest that you take up some counseling because you’re not going to die on my watch.”
“Bond,” you sighed, “honestly, can I get a word in? I’m not going to commit suicide.”
“Damn right you’re not,” the agent in front of you growled. He was suddenly right in your space again. “I’m going to stay here tonight with you and tomorrow, you’re going to a therapist.”
You backed up a step, feeling a bit…flustered, not to mention frustrated, with his close proximity.
“Will you just listen to me?!” you yelled, throwing your hands up in the air in ill repressed ire. “I am not going to commit suicide because I don’t want to! I never planned to and I never talked about it with Katelyn!”
The silence that descended on you was thick and you crossed your arms against your chest, glaring at the agent in front of you. He looked torn between not believing you and wanting to.
“You never mentioned suicide to Katelyn?” he asked finally, voice lower and not quite so angry this time around.
“No,” you said quietly, relief coloring your voice that he finally seemed to be listening to you.
Blue eyes bored into your own, but you stared back at him, refusing to show anything that could be taken as guilt or uneasiness. You’d finally gotten the man to listen to you. You didn’t want to give him any reason to doubt you word.
You were not going to a freakin’ therapist.
“And you’ve never thought about committing suicide?” he pressed, once again stepping forward until he was in your space.
“No,” you repeated, with only a hint of impatience. Really. Why did he believe Katelyn so readily but not you?
“Then you won’t mind if I stay here tonight,” he suddenly said, eyes once again daring you to challenge him. Which, normally, you wouldn’t. But tonight, he’d broken in, interrupted your coveted “alone with a movie and ice cream” time, yelled at and accused you of shit you didn’t actually do and now demanded you house him for the night.
Yeah…not in this lifetime.
“I do mind, actually,” you shot back, eyes narrowing at the agent. “I don’t need a babysitter and now that I’ve told you that I’m not suicidal, there’s no reason for you to stay.”
You turned to the couch and went to sit back down. “Especially with that attitude of yours,” you muttered under your breath. Really, there were days it was like dealing with a five year old. Pretty sure he was supposed to be acting older than you.
“Y/N,” came the warning growl from behind you and you rolled your eyes.
“Seriously, Bond, you can relax, okay? I’m not suicidal, I don’t want to ‘end it all’ and I’ll see you tomorrow at work.” You finally turned to look at him over your shoulder. “Unless you’re going on another mission…?”
The Double-Oh stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “No mission yet.”
You nodded once, “Good. Then I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” You turned your attention back to the movie that had made quite a bit of progress since you’d been so rudely interrupted and pretended to not hear the soft cursing behind you or feel the glare being shot to the back of your head.
There was blissful silence in the apartment for a few minutes, (aside from the movie), before Bond finally piped up, “Really, Y/N? Harry Potter?”
You shot your own glare at him over your shoulder. “For your information, I happen to like Harry Potter. And you’re not even supposed to still be here, so no dissing the movie that’s playing.”
To your surprise, annoyance, disbelief and, you admit, slight pleasure, Bond moved around the couch arm and sat down not two inches from you, grabbing your tub of ice cream off the coffee table and spooning some into his mouth.
“At least you have good taste in this,” he muttered, blue eyes locking onto yours. It took you a second, but you realized he was teasing you. You weren’t aware the man had a playful bone in his body!
Once you got over your shock you managed to answer back, “It’s been known to happen.” You plucked the spoon out of his hand and took your own bite of the chocolate ice cream. “But this is mine. Go grab your own.”
“Now, now, Y/N. I think you should share.”
“Ha!” You barked a laugh, “Whatever for? You broke in here, remember? I didn’t bust into your house!”
“I would advise you never trying that,” he said, suddenly serious. “Good way to get shot.”
“Bond,” you said back just as serious, “I don’t know where you live and I don’t want to know.”
He tilted his head. “Yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because I’d probably be tempted to come over and try to shank you in your sleep,” you said with an angelic smile.
Bond met your smile with a dastardly smirk of his own.
“Are you sure it’d be to shank me?”
You gave him a shove with your shoulder as you spooned more ice cream out of the tub still in his hands.
“Yup. Perv.”
His chuckle made a shiver run up your spine and you realized he needed to leave. Like, now.
Putting the spoon in the tub, you leaned back onto the couch and turned back to the movie. “When you leave, would you put that in the freezer and lock the door on your way out?”
He leaned back as well, putting one arm on the back of the couch behind you before he answered. “I’ll put it in the freezer and lock the door, Y/N, but I’m not leaving.”
You turned your head, unintentionally pressing your cheek against his forearm. You had to physically stop yourself from jerking away as if burned. With Bond, showing any kind of weakness wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
And he was definitely a weakness of yours.
“Whaddya mean you’re not leaving? I thought we decided that I didn’t need a babysitter.”
“You mean you decided you didn’t need a babysitter.”
“Bond,” you growled and he shrugged. Shrugged! As if you were discussing the weather!
“Don’t call me a babysitter then. Call me something else.”
“Oh, believe me, Bond, there are several things I’d like to call you,” you muttered hotly, “and none of them are particularly flattering.”
The grin he gave made you almost give in and do pretty much whatever he wanted you to. Someday, this thing you had over Bond was going to get you into so much trouble.
“How about we just say that we’re two friends hanging out, alright? You don’t have to call me anything.”
Since moving to England, you didn’t have a whole lot of friends you hung out with, but you were still pretty sure that it only qualified as ‘friends hanging out’ if both parties were willing. But, you’d already missed about a third of the movie and could feel a headache coming on so you just nodded.
“Fine. Whatever you say, friend.”
Bond gave a small grunt of triumph and relaxed further into the couch after depositing the ice cream on the table once again. Your head was still in contact with his arm, but he was warm and solid next to you, so you decided to just enjoy the rare closeness you had with the man and focused on the rest of Harry Potter.
It wasn’t until the movie was over and Bond was putting the ice cream away that the shit hit the fan. Again.
You were in the middle of stretching when Bond came back into the living room, barefoot and no tie.
“Hey, Y/N, you want—“ he cut off abruptly and you stopped stretching to look at him expectantly.
“Do I want what, Bond?” you asked after a few moments of silence, but the man wasn’t paying attention to you but rather looking at your arms.
Looking down, you saw why.
“Wow,” you murmured to yourself, “I thought I had until at least tomorrow before those showed up.”
“What happened?” Bond demanded, narrowed blue eyes never leaving the dark bruises around your upper arms.
You’d never been good with taking things very seriously, especially if you didn’t find them to be a big deal, but even you had to admit that saying, “Considering the work you’re in, I’m surprised you don’t recognize your own handy work,” was a bit too…crass.
But, it’d already been said so you just gave a small rueful smile and apologized.
Figures, the apology would be what set him off.
“You’re apologizing to me for hurting you?” he demanded, voice loud once again. And here you’d thought you had met your quota for yelling today.
You groaned. “Oh for the love of…. Really, Bond? My neighbors are going to think I’m in some kind of domestic situation if you keep yelling. So, shush and help me get the house ready for sleeping.”
The super secret spy agent looked at you for a long moment while you patiently, (or as patient as you could be), waited for him to come to his senses already so you could get some shut eye.
“I should go,” Bond said after a moment. You crossed your arms.
“James,” you said softly, taking a step towards him, “I really would appreciate it if you stayed.”
The man in front of you scoffed, though blue eyes didn’t leave your own.
“A few minutes ago, you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”
You scoffed yourself. “That’s because you were going to babysit me and thought I was suicidal of all things. Which I’m not. But I would like you to stay if you’re willing.”
Bond regarded you for a moment before stepping forward until he was directly in front of you. Warm fingers gently trailed over the darkening bruises on your arms.
“You’re sure you’d like me to stay?” he asked quietly, eyes boring into yours.
You gave a gentle smile. “I really would like nothing better.”
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Text
Life Goes On
This if for @buckybarnesplumwhore​
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; grieving, funeral, breeding, handcuffs, warnings are not exhaustive so read at your own discretion.
This is dark! Andy Barber x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Synopsis: You volunteer at the local youth center but when one of the kids meets an unfortunate end, you cross paths with his father. No stranger to grief, you try to help him cope but find it a bigger than task that you expected.
Note: When I started writing, I had no plan. When I kept writing, there was still no plan. And then it just all kinda happened.
Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
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It was too sunny for a funeral. A funeral come too soon.
The service was held out in the sun, rows of wooden chairs and a sombre old priest. You never knew if the Barbers were religious but it was easy to find a holy man in Massachusetts, as easy as those early years of settlement found in textbooks. 
There were no flowers, only two oblong caskets shrouded in black cloth, the name of each of the dead on silver placards, no pictures, no souvenir of who they were.
It was like Andy was already trying to forget them. He was at the front, the grieving widower and father. You were lost somewhere in the middle with his co-workers, there out of propriety more than empathy, and distant relatives who attended out of courtesy, some passing acquaintances who followed the story in the papers more than out of compassion. It was a spectacle and Andy had done his best from feeding the leering onlookers.
You knew Jacob more than his parents. He was younger than you, almost ten years apart. You knew him from the youth group you volunteered for, the same one you'd been in at his age. He was out of place there, he was from a better neighbourhood than the other kids, they called him the rich brat, and he resented himself more for it than he did them.
His attendance kept his mother happy. He didn't like the individual counseling, he didn't talk, so she put him in the group and he talked there. Sometimes. The kids never went on philosophical monologues but they understood each other and shared what they needed to.
Laurie was always late to pick him up. So he stayed to help stack the chairs and you ended up waiting with him, making sure he wasn't alone in the dark. He hated that at first too, until he realised you weren't on the stoop to council or judge. You were just two people, chatting to pass the time.
Sometimes Andy picked him up. He was friendlier than Laurie. Jacob's mother was always in a rush, even on her way home where there was no deadline. She said thanks, maybe, and drove off as she began to lecture Jacob about how he wore his hat. Andy offered you a ride, every time, as if he had some compulsion to be the good guy, the saviour. You always said no, the bus was a five minute ride to your building, fifteen minutes if you walked.
Now Jacob was dead, his mother too. Another tragedy inflicted upon those least likely. Even death didn't stop the whispers, even that venue, the priest's collar, the Biblical dirges, the grim family man in black did not silence them. It sickened you as the service ended and the people rose in a hushed murmur.
Andy left without talking to anyone. The procession of cars would drive through the streets with flags to mark the grieving on their way to the interment. It was as if Andy was doing what was expected more than what he felt he owed the deceased. He was ever the lawyer, formal and curt.
You followed the grey parade. Not out of obligation but out of genuine regret. Jacob seemed like a lost kid, even in death. The rumours, the accusations, the suspicion, followed him. The people didn't watch the dirt fall from the shovel to see him at peace, they watched it as some grand finale to the great show of the Barbers.
When the metal no longer cut and scattered the soil, the crowd thinned out. You stayed as the diggers packed up. You were sad for Jacob, for Laurie. Andy hadn't been there to see the burial. You couldn't blame him but you were surprised. He just disappeared after the service, apparently done with his part in the play. 
You went closer and stared at the new stone that stretched above both plots. Laurie Barber… and her son, Jacob Barber. May they rest. It was as short, as minimal as anything else about the affair. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. You didn't know if Jacob was a bad seed, it wasn't your job to make that call, but he had just been a kid and all that potential was now six feet down.
"Didn't think anyone would stick around," the dark figure stepped up beside you, his steps muted by the grass, "least of all, you."
"I'm sorry, I…" you looked at Andy and then the dirt, "I'll go."
"Wait," he said before you could move, "I thought-- I thought I wanted to be alone for this…" he shoved his hand in his pocket, "but I've been alone since it happened and I'm realising, I'm gonna be alone from here on out."
You didn't say a word. You didn't know what you could say. He'd heard a hundred apologies, a hundred condolences.
"I'm happy someone stayed, that someone cared," he cleared his throat, "thank you."
You nodded and played with the buttons on your cardigan.
"He was too. Happy, you know, that someone cared. I think back now and I realise that you probably saw him more than me. He was always excited to go to the centre but he got in that car and he just… deflated." He shook his head, "maybe this is better. One way or the other, he wanted to get away from me but he never could get away from Laurie. She wouldn't let him go."
He chuckled sardonically but it quickly fizzled in his throat.
"Sorry, I'm rambling…"
"You're processing," you said, "a lot of the kids down at the centre, they lost parents, one way or the other, orphans, fosters… I always told them that they didn't have to make sense because grief never really does."
"Now that makes a lot of sense," he said, "but you shouldn't have to listen to me."
"I shouldn't or you don't think you should say any of it?"
"Hmmm," he hummed, "yeah, maybe."
"I don't get paid to listen to those kids, I just get a time and a place to do so. This isn't different. It's just talking and a lot of that is just figuring things out. Listening is easy, you're doing the hard part."
"Jeez, you come up with this stuff on your own or is there some sort of how-to book?"
You lifted your chin and sucked in your lip. You could tell where Jacob got the bite from.
"Sorry, that was… mean," he said after the silence settled with the dirt, "can I ask you something?"
"Sure," you said.
"You got somewhere to be?"
"No…" you answered cautiously.
"Do you think you might wanna listen to me a little more? I'll buy you a coffee for the trouble."
"You wanna talk? To me?"
"Better than anyone I do know," he snorted, "they all just give me that dumb look. They pity me, judge me. You don't have to say yes but I started now, if I stop, I'll...stop."
"Coffee?" You glanced over at him, "I'd rather tea."
"I'm sure they got that too," he fiddled with the trim of his pocket, "anytime you wanna bail, let me know."
"If I can handle teen angst, I think I can handle you."
🖤
That afternoon wasted away in the corner of a café. It felt like any other day but for Andy, you knew, it was likely the worst day of his life. Likely a day he wouldn’t forget. You sat patiently until the last of your tea was cold. He didn’t finish his coffee, he hardly even touched it. When you checked the time, he looked down embarrassed.
“It’s late,” he said, “I… I’m sorry for keeping you so long.”
“I didn’t have anything to do. I doubt you did either,” you swept up the paper cup and your purse.
“No, really, I mean, you don’t know me. You knew Jacob and I just sat here and talked your ear off for hours. I--” he looked out the window, “I know that when I go home, the house will still be empty. That’s why I’m here.”
You looked past him as he turned back. You chewed your lip, “Andy, have you looked into counseling yet?”
“It feels… too early for that.”
“Too early?”
“I don’t want to let it go. Don’t want to let them go,” he sucked his hands in his pockets, “if I go, that’s what they’ll tell me to do.”
“No, they’d help you live with it, not forget it,” you said, “but I know, it’s scary. Have you done anything? Read anything?”
“Read?”
“Self-help isn’t for everyone and those dummy books aren’t great I admit, but sometimes a start is better than nothing. What about… a routine? Do you have one?”
“I work, I come home, I sleep, and try not to notice they’re gone,” he shrugged, “and repeat. Lot of overtime.”
“You’re still working?” you went to the door and he followed.
“Well, I talked to you. That’s what I’m going to do about it.”
You stepped out into the evening din and spun to look at him. You crossed your arms and stood across from him on the pavement.
“Well, unfortunately there’s an age limit down at the centre,” you said, “but I could give you a number for an adult group.”
“No, I don’t wanna talk to a group of sad parents and widowers. Just remind me how pathetic I really am,” he scoffed.
“Do you think that what you’re doing right now is better?”
“Do you have a degree in this?” he wondered, “what are you doing down at that youth centre talking to degenerates?”
“I have a certificate that says I’m good at listening, but no, I couldn’t afford a degree,” you dropped your arms, “but, will you come down? Sit in on a session. Just listen… for Jacob? It helped him, I think, after a while?”
“With the kids?”
“Yeah, with the kids,” you said, “maybe it will help you decide.”
“Decide what?”
“If you’re going to keep doing what you're doing; nothing, or if you’re going to try. Trust me, after a while, just sitting there, ignoring it, it gets old and it won’t get better.”
He looked down and stared at his leather shoe as he ground his toe into the pavement, “is that allowed? Am I allowed to do that?”
“I don’t see why not. I have parents sit in all the time.”
“But I’m not-- not anymore,” he gulped.
“You are,” you patted his arm gently, “you always will be.”
“What time?” he raised his head.
“Tuesdays and Thursdays at four-thirty. We do accept late arrivals. Kids come in and out. Usually hang out til seven before I let them go.”
“I think I can make that work,” he exhaled deeply, “thank you.”
“For what?”
“For putting up with me.”
You nodded and gave a bittersweet smile, “I miss Jacob too. I might be little more than a glorified babysitter but it means something to me. The kids… they feel like they’re mine sometimes. At least on those two nights a week.”
“Well…” he peered down the street, “you need a ride?”
You chuckled quietly, “you now, I think this time, I do.”
🖤
Andy was early. He took a chair near the wall as the kids flopped on the low sofas and into the colourful armchairs. A government grant had seen an upgrade in the lounge, although the kitchen needed some work as the cooking classes were still short on supplies. Dark circles darkened his eyes and the hairline wrinkles around them added to the hollow effect. He wasn’t sleeping.
You waited for the room to quiet. You greeted the kids and went through the usual ice breaker; one bad thing, one good thing, and one way they could improve the bad. Many of them were reluctant at first, they resisted what they thought were cheesy and inane exercises but they all came around. They were able to voice things that otherwise would be kept to themselves and they were afforded a respectful and often rapt audience.
When you finished, you kept from naming your own three. You looked at Andy.
“I’m sorry, everyone, I’m so forgetful. This is Andy,” you gestured to him, “he’s sitting in with us today. Andy, why don’t you tell us your bad thing, your good thing, and one thing you can do to improve the bad.”
He looked startled but he stood and cleared his throat. He glanced around at the kids and the shadow left his face. “Well, I lost a file, there were free bagels at work, and… I guess I could try to look again tomorrow.”
“Very good,” you smiled, “alright, my turn at last. My bad thing is I spilled tea on my shirt, my good thing is it’s a dark shirt, and my thing to improve is… wear a bib.” You laughed as you audience stay stone faced, “alright, alright, I’ll just be more careful and not run with hot liquids.”
You sat and started with Danica. She was always the most talkative, that encouraged the other kids. Today was no exception and you had to remind her to save some time for everyone else. Erik was next, then Andre, and Shamea. You almost didn’t notice Andy as he stood and sidled against the wall. Not until he was at the door, he looked back darkly and you saw his chest fall heavily. His nostrils flared and he was gone.
You tried not to show your disappointment, tried not to let the kids notice. They were all caught up in the circle and breaking it was never good. Shamea passed the stuffed bunny to Naima and you focused on her. Maybe it was too soon for Andy, you understood that, but you hoped too that he might have found a piece of Jacob there.
Before the kids left, you handed out the coloured markers and they each scribbled down a few words before a high-five. They passed through the open door in pairs and singles, and you bent to add your own note. You tucked the card into your bag and locked up. Jacob was usually the only one to hang around. Not anymore.
You headed out the front door with a wave to Martha at the front desk and took a gulp of the fresh evening air. There was someone sat on the flat stone at the bottom of the broad rail of the stairs. You recognised Andy as you neared, much too big to be a teen.
“I’m sorry,” he dabbed his nose with his sleeve, “I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay in that room.”
“But you’re still here,” you said.
“I didn’t wanna just leave you hanging but… they all remind me of him,” he stood, “I’m sorry.”
“No more apologies,” you opened your purse and searched, “I had the kids put this together. Actually, it was Milo’s idea. He didn’t know it was you but he wanted to send it in the mail--”
“What?” he took the card and opened it. He turned so he could read it in the yellow light of the street lamp, “oh my god.”
“Is it too much?”
“No, no,” he ran his thumb over the ink, “it’s…” he closed it and tucked it into his jacket, “the only other thing I’ve got is the bill for the caskets. It’s… amazing. Thank you.”
“Not at all. They always surprise me,” you said, “most of the time, in good ways.”
“You need a ride?” he checked his watch.
“I don’t live far,” you waved him off, “but I always appreciate the offer.”
He nodded and frowned, “and if… if I didn’t want to be alone? Would you grab a burger with me? Have you eaten?”
“Not since lunch, I, uh… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you said.
“You gotta be up early?”
“Nah, not too early.”
“What do you do? I mean, outside of this?” he turned and directed you to his car.
“Data entry,” you sighed, “it’s not very exciting but I work remotely and the pay is decent and I still have time for the kids.”
“It’s a living,” he said as the door locks clicked and you grabbed the handle, “no judgment. Trust me, being a lawyer, it’s really not as glamourous as it seems.”
🖤
Andy’s routine changed. He came around every Thursday and listened. After a few weeks, the kids figured out who he was. They didn’t treat him any differently and even invited him to join in on the teambuilding games you arranged. He wasn’t bad help as you welcomed a few new members from the group home.
That night, you weren’t feeling great. Even the kids hadn’t helped much. You were exhausted and nauseous. You blamed it on the late night shawarma. You said goodbye to the kids and packed up. Andy stacked the chairs without you asking, even when you told him not to.
You leaned heavily on the table and checked your phone before slipping it into your bag. You wiped your forehead and shivered. Some gravol, ginger ale, and sleep would be your indulgence that night.
“You okay?” Andy asked.
“Stomach thing,” you rubbed your middle, “nothing major.”
“You don’t look great,” he said, “well, I don’t mean it like-- are you sure--”
“Oh, gee,” you slid past him and out the door.
You ran to the restroom across the hall and into a stall. You wretched and the acid seared your throat. The bile bubbled in the toilet water and you shuddered. You heaved a few more times and rinsed your mouth in the sink.
Andy was waiting for you in the hall, “let me drive you tonight,” he insisted, “even if it’s just a block away.”
“I can’t even say no,” you grumbled as he handed you your purse.
“What’s wrong? You eat something?”
“I think,” you groaned as he held the door open and the cool air outside chilled the sweat on your neck, “urgh, I hope it’s only that.”
You got to his car and fell heavily into the seat. You slumped against the console as he started the car. He paused as the engine idled and felt your forehead. He nudged you back against the seat and turned his hand to press the back of his fingers to your cheek.
“You got a fever,” he said, “I don’t think it’s food poisoning.”
“Oh, those kids carry bugs like rats,” you muttered, “just take me home, I’ll get over it.”
He pulled out of his spot and you closed your eyes. You leaned against the window, frigid against your forehead and hugged yourself. You dozed off before he even turned out of the lot, the belt keeping you from folding over entirely.
🖤
You woke up between fresh linen. The sunlight was soft in its early hues. It wasn't your bed. You rolled onto your side and your stomach ached from how empty it was. You pushed back the thick duvet, you were sweating. You didn't remember more than the car ride and a few fuzzy glimpses of the bottom of a bucket. 
You were cold again and pulled the blanket back. The door was open and Andy filled it as if he'd heard your grumbles. He stood at the bottom of the bed in a pair of plaid pants and a blue tee.
"Why am I here?" You asked. 
"You fell asleep. You're sick. I couldn't just leave you outside your building," he said, "how are you feeling?"
"Bad," you replied curtly, "I can go," you sat up, "stop by the pharmacy, go hide in my own bed."
"You should stay here," he insisted, "just until the fever breaks."
"Really… ugh," you moaned as your belly clenched, "Andy, I should--"
"Lay down?" He came around and caught your shoulder, "I used to call in sometimes when Jacob was home sick. When he was a lot younger and… I stir up a man cup of noodles."
"You don't have to--"
"It's completely selfish," he interrupted, "it's been a long time since I had someone to take care of or at least it feels like it."
You were light-headed as you tried to stand but he kept you from getting to your feet, "I guess I can stay a little longer."
"Don't act like I don't owe you," he tutted, "now relax. I'll get you some soup. You need something in your system. I got some anti-nausea pills in the cupboard, too."
"Thanks but you don't owe me anything. I'm gonna owe you big."
"Why don't we just call it even then," he backed up, "seeing as that's my bed and my couch, it's really not made for sleeping." He stretched his arms and his shoulders cracked, "especially at my age."
🖤
You stayed another night. You tried to convince Andy to let you take the couch instead but he was a lawyer and rarely lost an argument. It was easier to eat by the evening but you were still dizzy and you couldn't stop yawning. You'd never been so tired.
Despite your uneasiness at overstaying your welcome, you slept more heavily than before. Your guilt didn't keep you awake for long as you sank into a deep sleep and you woke slowly, a murmur escaping your lips as grogginess weighed you down. You were still so very tired but it was already morning.
You stretched and your wrist caught. You winced and tugged at your arm. You sat up in horror as you stared at the metal cuff attached to the hoop drilled into the headboard. You tugged until your arm hurt and your hand throbbed. What the fuck.
"Andy! Andy! What--"
"Shhhhh," Andy hushed you as he entered, "it's okay, you're okay."
"No, I'm not. What did you do?" You pulled again and the metal pinched your skin.
"You're going to hurt yourself," he said calmly.
"Unlock it. Let me go," you struggled as you kicked off the blankets, "Andy, what the fuck?"
"Hey, don't talk like that. It's...nasty."
"I don't understand," you began to pant, "why are you doing this?"
The panic crawled like tendrils up your neck and back. You twisted and pulled but the metal cuff didn't budge. You felt the bed shift and Andy grabbed your shoulder. He forced you down, pinning your other hand beside your head.
"I'm taking care of you," he said, "don't be so ungrateful."
"I can take care of myself. Let me go, please."
"No, you need me," he snarled, "like I need you."
"Andy, you're wrong--"
"Stop!" He covered your mouth, "stop! You don't know what you need. Now be still. Be quiet." He squeezed until your jaw hurt, "don't make this difficult."
He slowly lifted his hand and you didn’t move. You stared at his hand then looked at his face. There was a desperate anger in the depths of his oceanic eyes. He sat back and his jaw clenched as he watched you.
"I'm going to make breakfast. Be good. You need to eat." He backed off the bed and went to the door, "I mean it."
He left you and you listened until pans clinked and clanged in the kitchen below. You folded your thumb against your palm and tried to wiggle free of the cuff. It was too tight. There was only one other way out and you couldn't do it alone.
"HELP! HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE!" You screamed, "someone help me!"
The footsteps hammered up the stairs and Andy stormed in. He grabbed you and clamped his hand over your mouth again.
"Listen, no one can hear you, you got that? Windows are soundproof, but I really don't want to hear it so it's up to you if I gag you."
You blinked and your lip trembled against his hand. Your eyes rounded and you nodded stiffly. He tore his hand away and sighed as he clapped his hands on his legs in frustration.
"Good," he said quietly, "now, let's just hope," he stood and strode to the door, "that the bacon didn't burn."
🖤
You fell asleep again shortly after eating, even with the adrenaline and panic surging through your veins. You woke again in the afternoon. Your limbs were heavy but the fever was gone and your stomach felt better but you were still terribly tired. 
Andy was there. He had a leather file in his lap as he looked over papers and scratched his beard. He sensed your movement and looked over at you.
"Hungry?" He asked, "you slept through lunch."
"No," you smelled your sweat on the duvet, "but… can I have a shower? I haven't...since I got here."
"A shower?" He closed the folder and stood. He set it down and pursed his lips as he thought. "Fifteen minutes," he said as he dug around in his pocket, "I'll be here."
He unlocked the cuff and you rubbed your wrist as you sat up. He stayed close as you rose and stayed between you and the bedroom door as he pointed you to the bathroom.
"I don't have much for you to wear yet but you can take another one of my shirts," he said.
You nodded and closed the door between you. You closed your eyes and pressed yourself to the wind. How was this the same man that you spoke to that day at the cemetery?
🖤
He slept beside you that night. You were on your side, your arm bound again by the cuff with the pillow between it and your head. You were uncomfortable, more so with him against your back. He wore only a pair of boxers. You shied away when he undressed and never looked at him again.
You dozed despite your nerves. You couldn't shake the drowsiness. You just felt more and more tired. When you opened your eyes, his arm was around you. He ran his fingers over your stomach, fingers crawling beneath the baggy tee shirt. You shivered and he nuzzled the back of your neck.
"I was thinking… well, I've been thinking for a while now, how happy we could be," he said, "I'm still young enough to try again, do it right and you… you're young, ready." His hand brushed up to your chest and he cupped your tit, "you're kind, you're caring, you're...beautiful. You’re my second chance."
“Andy,” your voice was brittle as your pulse beat furiously, “what you’re doing, it’s not right. You need to let me go.”
He went rigid and his hand stopped. He unsnaked his arm from around you and the springs coiled as he fell heavily onto his back. In the silence, you could only hear his steady breaths and a low growl.
“No, I’m helping you,” he said, “like you’ve helped me.”
“Andy, please,” you eased onto your back and looked over at him, “this isn’t how you fix this.”
“How do I?” he snarled, “huh? How? You don’t know!” he sat up and glared down at you, “you can’t know.”
“You think hurting me is helping me? That’s what you’re doing.”
“No, no, no,” he bent his legs as he grasped his head and gripped it as if it would crack, “No! I haven’t hurt you. I feed you, I keep you clean, I… I take care of you!”
“Andy,” you reached over shakily and touched his bare shoulder, “this isn’t what I want and I know you don’t want it either. You want someone who really loves you--”
“You love me!” he turned so quickly you yelped. He gripped your jaw tightly as he held himself against you, “you love me,” he pressed his lips to yours and you murmured in surprise, “you love me,” it was a maddened chant as he pulled back, “...love me.”
“And--”
His hand flew up to smother you and he lifted himself over you. His knees pressed to your legs until they parted and his other hand explored your curves through the rumpled cotton. You squeaked and tensed against his touch, your wrist chafing from the cuff.
“Shhh,” he hushed as he pushed the shirt up.
He kept his hand on your mouth as he slid down your body and left a trail of kisses along your torso as he unveiled it. He bunched the tee above your chest and bent to dote on your tits. You shuddered and pushed on his head as you mumbled into his palm.
His fingers tickled along your side and hooked into the side of the drawstring shorts he gave you. He tugged until the string snapped and edged them down as he continued to tend to your chest. You kicked around him and felt his bulge as he leaned into you.
He ripped his hand away and sat up. He grabbed the waist of the shorts and wrenched them down your legs, quickly taking his between them again. You wriggled and batted out at his chest as his thumbs pressed against your hip bones and his hands crept down to knead your thighs.
“I can start again,” he brushed his fingers down your vee and you trembled as they danced along your cunt.
“No, Andy, please, you can still stop--”
“Shhhh, honey,” he pushed between your folds and you gasped, “it’s okay. I’ll still take care of you,” he glided over your cunt and made you twitch, “and the baby.”
He poked along your entrance and you whined helplessly as you reached to the cuff and pulled with both arms. Every muscles in your strained as you tried to break free of the headboard. He pushed a finger inside of you and you cried out.
“Andy, stop, please, no--”
He added another finger and slipped them in and out of you as he purred. You looked at his face and it sent a chill through you. His eyes were dark and clung to the movement of his hand, his brow set and his jaw squared with his intent. He wasn’t the grieving widower, he wasn’t the man lost and lonely, he was a monster.
“That’s it,” he turned his hand and flicked your clit with his thumb, “you want me. I feel it.”
You looked away as your wetness spread to his knuckles and along your folds. He kept his thumb moved as he curled his fingers inside of you and the pressure built as the tip of his touch. You gritted your teeth and shook your head helplessly.
“No,” you whispered, “no, no, no…”
He took his hand away suddenly and you felt empty. He lifted himself on his knees and rolled down his boxers. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t, you only saw the silhouette of his nudity.
He pushed your thighs apart and spread himself over you, his elbow just beside you as he felt around between your bodies. His hot breath grazed your cheek and he kissed it firmly as he angled his tip between your folds. Your thighs clenched around him in a futile act of resistance as he found your entrance.
He pushed inside slowly and brought his other arm up beside you. He forced your head straight and you squeezed your eyes shut. He cradled your head between his hands and his lips brushed yours as he spoke, “open your eyes. Look at me.”
“Andy,” you murmured as he slowly got deeper, “please--”
“Look at me,” he demanded, “look at me!”
Your eyes snapped open and met his stormy blue ones. He bucked his hips and impaled you completely. You exclaimed and grasped his thick bicep in shock, your other hand balled above the cuff. Your legs bent around his thick thighs as you tried to stop him.
“God, you feel so good,” he purred as he began to rock, “don’t I feel good too?”
Your lashes fluttered away the rising tears and you sucked your lip in to keep from making a sound. You could look away as he held your head straight, his hand clamping around your jaw as he other arm bent beneath yours.
The room echoed with the noise of his flesh slapping yours as he sped up, his grunts and groans interlaced with the sickening symphony. You quivered as his pelvis rubbed against yours and stoked the heat in your core. You could not hold back the illicit response of your body as he ravaged it.
Your breath grew heavier and he gulped it down as he kissed you again, forcing his tongue between your lips as he devoured you. The whole bed moved in time with your body and the headboard knocked against the wall as his thrusts came closer and closer together and he buried himself as deep as he could with each tilt of his hips.
He drew his mouth away and pressed his cheek to yours as his muscles tensed and he puffed into the pillow, “this is it, honey. It all starts here.”
“Ah, please…” your voice fizzled and smothered your moan against his shoulder as your body spasmed. Your legs bent around him firmly as you orgasmed and your body arched beneath his desperately.
“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s it. You take me so well. See… it was meant to… be.”
His breaths grew more rampant with his rhythm. His hand slipped down to cradle your cheek and his thumb stroked your flesh tenderly as he dipped into you over and over. His deep groans grew louder around you. He jerked into you sharply and his motion stuttered. He gripped your hip and held you down as he sheathed himself in your walls. 
He quaked as his hips slowed and he flooded you. He exhaled and as his lungs emptied, the strength left him entirely and he lowered himself over you weakly. His body pressed yours into the mattress, your sweat and his turned sticky as the air settled over you.
He stayed like that for what felt like forever. He moved slowly to lift himself up and he sat back, watching his dick slide out of you. Your thighs shook as your legs splayed around him. You felt his cum leak from you and he dragged his fingers along your cunt and scooped it back into you, coating his fingers in as he pushed them past your entrance once more. He smiled at the wet sounds of your cunt.
“That felt like the one,” he said, “but we can try again...”
He pulled his fingers out of you and admired the slickness that glistened over them. He reached down and gripped his dick, half-soft and spent. He winced as he began to stroke himself and let out stifled moans between his teeth.
“Maybe this time,” he purred as he angled himself inside of you again and lifted your legs against his torso. He bit his lips as he trembled, his cock oversensitive and overworked, “as many times as it takes, honey.”
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chaoscalled · 2 years
Text
Before Anything Else
“You counsel veterans all the time.”
“That’s different.  This is… way outside my expertise.” Sam crossed his arms and followed Steve’s gaze down to the computer monitors.
James Buchanan Barnes sat unnervingly still and rigidly straight backed in the single chair of his holding cell.  The two of them had spent the past two years on a man hunt.  Sam could barely keep a grip on Steve’s sanity.  There were weeks Steve would think he’d stumbled on a lead and take off without so much as a glance in Sam’s direction.  Sam always caught up eventually, usually to a mopey Captain America wallowing at once again losing his best friend.
And yesterday, the elusive bastard had just up and turned himself in.
Maybe that wasn’t quite right.  He’d turned up to Avengers’ Tower in New York and asked for Steve.  Like a kid asking his buddy’s mom if he could come out and play.  Tony had locked the tower down and gone full Iron Man.  Not that it was necessary.  Barnes didn’t put up a fight.  He didn’t even bat an eye at the super suit.  Nor did he resist being led down into Tony’s holding cells in sub-basement four.
Steve rubbed a hand over his prickly jaw and took a deep breath.  “I don’t trust anyone else to do it, Sam.”
“You realize the man’s tried to kill me, oh, three?  Four times?  Maybe talking about his feelings with me isn’t the greatest plan you’ve ever come up with.”
Steve sighed and put his hands on his hips.  “So skip the feelings bit for now.  Just… ask him why he’s here.”
Sam leveled a stare at Steve who hadn’t broken his gaze at the monitors.  “We know why he’s here.”
Steve shook his head.  “He didn’t… he didn’t recognize me.  He didn’t know who I was.”
That was it.  Steve wasn’t volunteering himself because he was afraid.  It was almost laughable.  Steve Rogers would jump out of a plane without a parachute.  He’d fight aliens and robots and Nazis without so much as a goosebump on his arm.  But he was terrified to stand in front of his best friend again and be nobody to him.
“I’m sure Natasha’d love to give it a whirl.  She’s better at interrogation.”
Steve cut a dangerous look Sam’s direction.  “He’s not being interrogated.”
“Isn’t he?”
Steve sank into a chair in front of the monitors and put his head in his hands.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.  I’ll do it myself.  Just give me a minute to… think.”
Sam had grown up on Captain America stories. He was a legend, of course.  And maybe Sam had painted a trash can lid to mimic his iconic shield when he was a boy.  Didn’t everyone?  Captain America was a giant.  But sitting in the chair beside him, he looked small.  He was just a person under all that serum.  Even if it was easy to forget when he ran faster than the standard automobile and leapt from buildings without a second thought.
Sam patted Steve’s shoulder and took a deep breath.  “No.  I’ll go.  Can’t promise anything good, but I’ll go.”
Steve looked up with warm gratitude.  “Anything you can do, Sam.”
The walk to the elevator wasn’t nearly long enough.  Sam was still trying to pick his words when the doors opened to the holding cells.  Barnes was the sole occupant.  The only other breathing being on the entire level.  Sam’s footsteps echoed around him from the high, windowless walls.  
Long tendrils of brown hair hung in front of Barnes’ face, obscuring him.  He didn’t look up.  Didn’t move or acknowledge Sam’s presence in the slightest.  What little confidence he’d had on the way down waned.  If it hadn’t been for Steve, the man would have killed him a dozen times over.  Sam gritted his teeth and crossed his arms, irritation and indignation flooding through him.  Easing his self-doubt.
“We’ve been looking for you.”
Nothing.  
Sam stretched his back and jutted his chin forward.  “Why run off if you were just going to come back?”
Not so much as a twitch.
“Stark said you asked for Steve, but he says you didn’t know who he was.”
Barnes lifted his head slowly and met Sam’s eyes with that icy stare of his. An involuntary chill trickled up Sam’s spine.  Sam shifted his weight from foot to foot and sniffed in the cold air.
“Your last mission was to kill him.  You here to see that through?”His eyes didn’t waver.  Didn’t give anything away.
“See, if that’s the case, you’ve made the stupidest decision a world famous assassin could make.  Pretty sure Stark’s got enough power in this room to turn you to dust.  Won’t be completing any missions after that.”
Still nothing.  Sam frowned and moved around the cell if only to get away from that steely gaze.  Barnes didn’t let him go.  His eyes tracked him now.  Like a lion with its prey.  Watching.  Waiting.  It was unnerving.  Sam stopped back in front of the cell again.
“Do you even remember who I am?”
There was a small twitch to Barnes’ dark brows.  Brief.  A blink and you’ll miss it sort of reaction.  He didn’t remember.  Didn’t know Sam.
“I was in D.C.,” Sam offered.  “I was on the bridge and the Triskellion.”
“Wings,” Barnes said to himself.
Sam nodded.  “Look at that.  He speaks.”
That icy stare was back the next second.  
Sam swallowed hard.  “Well, you remember me.  What else do you remember?”
The man returned to his selective muteness.  After an hour of attempting to goad the man into speech, Sam gave up and returned to the observation room.
“Give up?” Steve asked.  He was staring at the monitors.
“Taking a break.”  Sam grabbed a water out of the fridge and drained half in the next second.
“What do you think?”
Sam walked back through the last hour.  The only time he’d gotten so much as a flick of the eyes was when he’d mentioned Steve.  Sam drained the rest of his water and slouched in the chair beside Steve.
“Well, he’s definitely here for you.”
Steve nodded.  Expression grim.  Still, there was hope nestled in those eyes of his.  
“If he’s really here to finish his mission, you gonna let him?”
Steve’s eyes moved back to the monitors.  “If that’s what it takes.”
“What it takes to what?”
Steve bumped the first knuckle on his left index finger against the screen.  “To free him.”
“You know that’s not a good way of thinking.  You can’t really believe sacrificing yourself is going to solve anything.”
Steve brought his fist to his mouth.  His stare went far and away.  “It’s Bucky.”
Sam turned in for the night and started back the following morning.  He could tell Steve hadn’t left the observation room.  He likely hadn’t left the chair.  But neither had Barnes.  They were two peas in a pod even if one was trying to kill the other.  The similarities unsettled Sam even more.
“Breakfast,” Sam offered, pushing the tray through the little door in the wall and leaving it to sit on the table.
Barnes didn’t move.  He must’ve been starving, but he didn’t go for the food like Sam thought he would.  He just sat and stared at the floor.
“Do you like being caged up?” Sam asked.  A rhetorical question.  Of course he didn’t.  Nobody did.  “Maybe you do.  Why wouldn’t you try to convince us to let you out otherwise?” Sam crossed his arms and paced around the cell.
“Right now, there are two ways you’re getting out of that cell.  Dead or alive.”
No reaction as per usual.  Threats did nothing.  What the fuck did HYDRA do to him?  He didn’t care if he lived or died.
“Steve’s willing to sacrifice himself if it means you get out from under HYDRA’s boot, you know.  Not that it’ll end well for you if you do kill him. Boy’s got demi-gods on his team.  They won’t feel too kindly about you killing their friend.”
Barnes blinked and squinted for  moment.  He turned his head, tilting slightly.  Listening.
“Steve’s not thinking that far ahead.  He’s thinking about you.  Eating himself up about it.”
Sam stopped pacing again.  Barnes stared down at the floor.  A strange look had settled over his face.  Not the intimidating blank stare. Something different.
“You see why we can’t just send him down here to talk to you.  Not if you’re out to kill him.  He’ll let you.  I can’t let that happen.”
Barnes scoffed and leaned back.
Sam braced himself.  This was new.
“Something funny?”
Barnes leveled his eyes at Sam again.  “Did he tell you that?”
“What?”  It was Sam’s turn to be confused.
“He’s gonna let me kill him.  He say that?”
Sam pressed his lips together, wondering if he’d just given away something he shouldn’t have.  
“Is that so hard to believe?  He almost let you kill him in D.C..  If the plane hadn’t crumbled out from beneath you, you would’ve succeeded.”
Barnes’ eyes narrowed.  “He told you that?”
“Didn’t have to.  I sat by his bedside while he recovered.”  At least it was finally what some could call a conversation.
Barnes turned his eyes to the far wall and set his jaw.  If Sam didn’t know any better, he’d say he was… pouting.  
“You have a different side of the story?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
Barnes turned his eyes back to Sam and took a deep breath.  He stood and Sam took an involuntary step back.  Barnes smirked and stepped over to the table where his breakfast sat cooling.  He picked up a strip of bacon and ate it in two bites.  He paused and stared at the table as he swallowed.  Like he was waiting to see if the food would settle.  After a second or two, he moved on to the eggs.
They hadn’t given him utensils.  Too worried he might fashion them into weapons.  He was HYDRA trained after all.  What couldn’t he do with a couple of sharp bits of metal or plastic.  Barnes ate with his hands unperturbed.  It was a little disgusting to watch, but Sam waited.  They were actually having a conversation.  He didn’t want to break whatever rapport they had built.
It was fruitless.  Barnes finished eating and went mute again.  Sam continued to try to bring the conversation back around for more than an hour before giving up for the morning and retreating.
Natasha was in the observation room when Sam got there.  The monitors had been turned off.  It took quite a bit of pressure from both of them before Steve finally followed them out of the room and up to the living area of the tower.  
“I didn’t figure you’d be the one to give a serial killer your home address,” Tony quipped as they settled in for a late lunch.
“I didn’t have to,” Steve replied.  “Someone doesn’t understand the meaning of discretion.”
Tony sneered and plopped down at the head of the table.  “You’re certainly enjoying the spoils of the pompous.”
“You have my best friend in your basement.”
Tony looked over at Natasha.  “The one that tried to kill you?  Yeah. Sorry.  Should’ve just let you punch your way out of this one, too.”
“Boys,” Natasha warned.  “Why don’t you both just let Sam do his thing.  He’s been making progress.”  She turned those dark eyes on him.  “Haven’t you?”
Sam shrugged.  “Couldn’t say.  Boy’s cagey.  He’s only said a handful of things to me.  I can’t really get much of a read on him.”
Natasha smiled.  “Of course you can’t. He’s HYDRA trained.  You’re probably answering all his questions all on your own.  He doesn’t have to say a word.”
Sam frowned down at his grilled cheese.  If anyone would know, it’d be the Black Widow.   She was a master in interrogation. He’d seen up close and personal just how good she’d been at getting the intel she wanted.  And Barnes was from the same organization.  They ran in similar circles.  Were trained by them.
Sam decided to take a page from Natasha’s book when he went down to the cells that night.  The two stood in silence for an hour and a half before Sam retreated for the night.  This went on for two more days.  Sam was on the verge of breaking.  Finding a different tactic.  Of course the silent treatment wasn’t working on the world’s leading expert on the subject.
He was thinking of a way to rebreak the ice when the silence was broken.  Sam jerked in surprise.
“I knew him.”  Barnes said head ducked and hair dangling over his face.
Sam’s eyes darted up to the nearest camera before he could stop himself.  “You knew Steve?”
“I knew him before I knew me.  I was still nothing.  Just a big, blank space where a person should be.  I think I have some of it now.  I can’t be sure.  Not yet.  But before I was anything else, I was his.”
Sam stilled.  “His?”
Barnes turned his eyes up to the camera Sam had just looked at.  “Yours.”
Sam looked between Barnes and the camera.  He began to back toward the elevator when it opened.  Sam turned to look up at Steve, but his eyes had found their focus across the room.  He crossed to the cell.  Barnes was on his feet.
“I should’ve jumped,” Steve whispered.  
If the room hadn’t been so large and empty, Sam wouldn’t have heard.
“You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”
“How can you say that?  How can you think-?”  
Barnes’ eyes cut over to Sam.  Steve turned and met Sam’s eyes for the first time in days.
“I can take over, Sam.  Go rest.”
Sam nodded and stepped into the elevator.  He should’ve gone up to the main tower.  He didn’t.  He found himself in the observation room.  His and Steve’s positions reversed.  There was nowhere to hide in the holding cells.  Cameras spanned the entire floor.  There were no blind spots.
“I read about what happened after,” Barnes said.  He was much more talkative with Steve.  No long stretches where he wouldn’t speak.  “What the hell were you thinking?” “I was thinking I followed you into war, it was only fair I followed you out of it.”
A smile twitched at the corners of Barnes’ mouth.  If the quality weren’t so high, Sam might’ve thought it was a glitch of the cameras.
“Sap.”
“Jerk.”
“Punk.”
Steve laid his hand on the key panel and tapped in a quick code.  The doors to the cell slid back.  Barnes frowned.
“You sure you wanna do that?” Barnes asked. “I might kill you.”
Steve smiled.  “Like you haven’t had a million chances.”  He stepped into the cell toward Barnes.
“Not here.” Barnes set a hand on Steve’s chest.  His eyes found each camera in a second.
“Here.  Anywhere.  Anywhere,” Steve whispered.  He was pressing in.  Crowding Barnes and Barnes wasn’t resisting.  Wasn’t shoving him away and demanding space.  He was inviting him in.
“How ‘bout a dance?” Barnes suggested, tilting his head up just slightly to meet Steve’s eyes.
Their hands were around each other in the next moment.  They swayed in the small space of the cell.  Steve’s head dropped onto Barnes’ shoulder. He was humming.  They both were.  The same song.  Sam couldn’t place it.
“How much of it do you remember?” Steve asked as their swaying slowed.
“Hard to say.”  They stopped swaying.  Just stood, holding each other.  “I’ve been writing it down.  What I remember.  I can’t always tell dream from memory.  I was hoping you could help me with that.”
“Yeah,” Steve’s hand cupped the back of Barnes’ neck.  Fingers threaded through the long hair.   “It’s been a long, long time after all.”
Barnes smiled and bent his head to Steve’s.  He murmured something too quiet for even the Stark tech microphones to pick up.  Steve grinned and lifted his head.   “You know, the ol’ Steve Rogers’ motto,” Barnes laughed.
Steve was clearly trying to scowl, but his smile wouldn’t go away long enough.
“If it ain’t illegal, it ain’t worth doin’.” Barnes finished.
Steve laughed.  “I think I can make an exception.”
They started out of the cell together.  Barnes’ face dropped for a moment as they crossed the doorway.  He stuttered and jerked to a stop.  He squeezed his eyes shut and put a hand to his head.  Steve set a hand gently on his shoulder, the other on his waist.
“We’re going to find your journal, aren’t we?” Steve urged.
Bucky’s eyes focused again on Steve’s face.  After another two seconds, his expression relaxed again and allowed Steve to lead him to the elevator.
The room was filled with silence as the monitors relayed the empty room back to Sam.  He sat dumbfounded at his discovery,  not sure what to do with it.
“Well, that explains a few things.”  Natasha remarked behind him.
Sam jumped in his seat and whirled around.  “How long have you been there?”
Natasha lifted a shoulder in non-answer.  She pulled out her phone to fire out a quick text as she sauntered toward the monitors.  Her finger flew over the keys swiftly, switching out the cameras.  It took her half a second to find Steve and Barnes again.
“No wonder he rejected all those girls I threw at him,” she mumbled.
Steve’s hand was on Bucky’s right elbow.  Not in a restraining way.  He wasn’t holding Barnes back or trying to keep him from leaving.  It was the way someone might hold on to a lover in a crowd.  A way to keep from being separated.  From losing the other.
“Well, that wasn’t in the comic books,” Sam muttered.
Natasha smirked at him.  “’Course not.  That’s not the All-American ideal they wanted.  I’m sure if you went back and read some of those histories you’d see it.”  Natasha pulled up the cameras outside the tower.  “I should’ve seen it sooner.”
Sam watched them jog down into the subway and leaned back in his chair, sure they’d lost them.  Natasha didn’t blinked.  The footage inside the metro station played back.  Not busy this time of day.  Barnes leaned in to Steve’s shoulder.  His mouth was moving, but there were no microphones there.  Sam didn’t know what was being said.  Steve grinned and rolled his eyes.
He looked strange.  Or just different.  Steve’s shoulders weren’t so tight.  He leaned back toward Barnes casually.  It took a while for Sam to realize that this is what Steve Rogers looked like when he relaxed.  Whatever else he thought he knew about Steve seemed wrong.  He was friendly and had his easy going days, but he had never actually relaxed.  Not even when it was just him and Sam lounging on a couch in the tower.  
“N train to Brooklyn,” Natasha said.  “Keep an eye on the stations.  Let us know which one they get out on.”
Sam looked up.  “What?  You’re going after them?”
Natasha looked annoyed.  “He’s still the Winter Soldier.”
Sam looked back at the monitors.  “Look, maybe that’s-”
“Relax, Sam.  We’re just keeping an eye out.  HYDRA is still out there.  Be a shame if they cut this little reunion short by trying to get their prized asset back.”
Sam watched the stations until he saw the two get off the train.  He dialed Natasha’s number.  He didn’t want to tell them.  Steve deserved some privacy.  He deserved some peace.  But Natasha was right.
“Prospect Park.”
“Perfect timing.  We’re pulling in now.”
Sam tapped through the security cameras.  Stark had backdoor access to every CCTV camera in the city.  Likely the world.  He was able to follow the two from the station and into the park.
As they got deeper into the park, Steve’s hand slid down from Barnes’ elbow to his hand. Barnes stilled for a moment, meeting Steve’s eyes.
Steve’s mouth moved and Sam wished he’d learned how to read lips.  Barnes shook his head and looked around.  The park was mostly empty.  It was almost dark.  The lights were just starting to come on.  
Barnes set his left hand on Steve’s chest and pushed him back.  Sam’s hand twitched toward his phone again.  Barnes pushed until Steve’s back hit a tree and they stood there, noses almost touching.  Staring at each other.  They hadn’t done much, but their chests were heaving like they’d just run a marathon.
Steve leaned forward until his cheek was pressed against Barnes’ cheek.  His lips at Barnes’ ear.  Whatever was said made Barnes react.  He gripped Steve’s shirt in both hands and shoved him back again.  Steve had a lazy sort of smile on his face.  Cocky.  He looked down his nose at Barnes almost challenging him.
Seventy years of anguish rippled and melted away from them both as Barnes crushed his mouth to Steve’s.  Sam felt heat in his cheeks and looked away.  His phone vibrated against the metal of the counter.  He answered without looking if only for something to do.
“Where are they?”
Sam covered his eyes with his free hand.  “Just give them a minute.”
“I told you, we aren’t planning on separating them.  We just want to keep an eye out.  You know Rogers isn’t going to keep his guard up.”
“Mm.” Sam glanced back at the monitor.  “Yeah, but….”
The line was quiet a beat.  “They aren’t fucking in the park, are they?”
The heat in Sam’s face grew hotter.  “No.”
“Oh, hang on.  Clint found them.”
Sam dropped his head onto the table.
“I didn’t think Steve could do that.” She said, mostly to herself.
Clint Barton’s muffled voice made its way through her comms to Sam. “Jealous?”
“No.  Maybe a little.  He was holding out on me.”
“Privacy means nothing to you, does it?” Sam demanded.
Natasha barked out a short laugh.  “I’m a spy.”
“Uh oh.”
“What are you doing here?” Steve demanded.
“Wow! Steve?  Fancy running into you here!” Clint tried.
“You took a world famous assassin out of his cage.” Natasha said.  “We’re here to make sure he gets back in it.”
“He’s not going in any cage.”
“It was hyperbole.”
“It isn’t happening.”
“Didn’t I shoot you?” Barnes’ voice crackled.
Sam turned back to the monitors.  They were standing a few feet apart. Steve between Clint and Natasha and Barnes.  Natasha narrowed her eyes at him.
“Twice.”
Barnes pulled a frown.  “Must’ve liked you.”
“As target practice?”
Barnes shook his head.  “I could’ve killed you the first time.”  He glanced over at Steve who was giving him a hard look.  “I didn’t!”
“Sorry, Buck.  Say you’re sorry.”
He set his jaw.  “She tried to kill me, too.”
“Yeah, but you drew blood.
Barnes winced.  “Yeah.  Yeah, alright.  Sorry.”
Natasha shrugged.  “Clint tried to kill me, too.  I’m still friends with him.”
“I was brainwashed!”
“HYDRA?”
Clint furrowed his brow.  “Loki.”
Barnes looked at Steve.  “What’s Loki?”
“A god.  Or so he claims.”
Barnes’ face went slack.  “Aw, man.  I really am turning into you!”
“What?”
“Now you’re the one having all the fun without me.”
Steve smiled.  Sam didn’t think that smile was real.  He’d only seen it in the old Howling Commandos footage.  It was he only time Steve had smiled like that.  He only smiled like that with Sergeant Barnes.  
Natasha noticed it the same time Sam did.  “It wasn’t the lip ring, was it?”
“Hm?”
“Lillian?  You said you weren’t ready for the lip piercing, but that wasn’t it.”
Steve stared at her blank faced.
“C’mon, Steve,” Barnes pinched the fabric of Steve’s t-shirt between his fingers and tugged lightly.  His eyes darted back and forth between Steve and Natasha.  “It isn’t far.”
Steve nodded and followed Barnes further into the park.  Clint and Natasha walked behind them. All that easiness and relaxation from earlier was gone.  They were both on high alert.
Barnes stopped at a tree and looked around again. His eyes landed on Clint and Natasha for a moment before flying back to Steve’s.  There were no words spoken between them, but they communicated just the same.  The way only two people that knew each other unerringly could.  Steve turned and blocked Bucky from view while turning his right index finger in the air, ordering them to turn around.
Barnes shoved his arm into a knot in the tree and withdrew a small, black backpack.  He tucked his arms through the straps and tapped Steve on the shoulder.
“Where to?” Clint asked.
“What?  So you can follow us?”
“Just come back to the tower.”  Natasha said.  “It’s safest for you both. HYDRA’ll have a hell of a time trying to get to Barnes there.”
Steve looked back at Barnes.  Another moment of silent communication passed before Steve dropped his head and nodded.  “Fine.  But he isn’t going back in that cell.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
It was another hour before the four of them returned to the tower.  Natasha had turned off her comms as soon as they reached the car so Sam had gone back up to the living quarters.  As talkative as he had been when it was just him and Steve, Barnes had become mute once again when surrounded by strangers.
“Two years, man,” Sam said once he’d gotten Steve alone again.
Steve tensed.  “I know.”
“I knew there was something.  I thought it was guilt.”
Steve nodded.  “Of course it was guilt.  I abandoned him.  Let him get captured by the enemy again.  Of course I feel guilty.”
“You don’t think the fact you’re in love with the man played a role in the past two years?”
Steve swallowed hard and refused to meet Sam’s eyes.  “If it’s too much….”
“What?”
“I get it.  It’s legal now, but people are still what they always were.”
Sam shook his head and set a hand on Steve’s shoulder.  “No, man.  I’m not talking like that.  I’m just saying.  Maybe if I’d known the real why’s of it all, I could’ve helped better.  Been a better friend.”
Steve cracked a smile, but Sam knew better now.  This smile was a peace offering.  Only Barnes was lucky enough to get the genuine article. Steve patted Sam’s back lightly. “You’ve always been a good friend.  Not many people I can say that about.”
Barnes snuck into the room and fixed himself on Steve’s left.  They weren’t touching, but the action still felt intimate.  Maybe it was just because he’d seen them tongue wrestling in the park.
“Sorry,” Barnes said.  “About…. I wasn’t trying to kill you.  Just getting you out of the way.”
Sam pulled three beers out of the fridge and handed them out.  “Felt like you were.”
Barnes reached over with his left hand and popped the tops off each of their bottles.  “I would’ve.  If I had to.”  He took a sip of his beer.  “I held back too much on the bridge.”
“That was you holding back?”
Barnes ducked his head.  “Steve said, ‘Bucky,’ and I couldn’t shake the feeling I was on the wrong side after.  They didn’t like that.”
Steve loped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and squeezed.  “We’ll get ‘em.”
“You know where the bases are?” Sam asked.
Barnes looked over at Steve.  “A few.”
“That’s all we need.”
Barnes shook his head.  “I’ve been working through them on my own.”
“And now you’ll have backup.”
“It’s risky.”
Steve rolled his eyes.  “Well, that seals it.  No HYDRA hunt for me.  I hate taking risks.”
Barnes needled him in the ribs with his left elbow.  “I think the fact that you’re stubborn and love risking your skin are the two things I never forgot.”
Steve put his lips to Barnes’ ear.  “Then there are some things I need to remind you of.”
Sam felt like an unwitting audience.  Steve and Barnes had all but forgotten his presence.  They had gone from not touching to being glued to one anothers hips.  Sam cleared his throat and they both pulled back.
“Sorry,” Steve said, sheepishly.  “Believe it or not, we never engaged in public displays of affection seventy years ago.”
“The solace of a cold grave really makes you reconsider the weight you give to other peoples’ opinions.” Barnes said, that challenging stare back in his icy eyes.
“I bet the pair of you would’ve loved Stonewall.”
Steve smiled easily.  So Barnes wasn’t the outlet for Steve’s genuine smiles.  He was the source.
“I’m just glad we got back when we did.”
Sam tipped his beer to them and turned to take his leave.  He could hear them behind him.
“We still have a lot of work to do.”
“Not tonight, Buck,” Steve said, softly.  “We can take it easy.  Just for tonight.”
The way he said it made it clear.  This was an old conversation.  Probably a conversation they had been having even before the war.  Their whole lives.  With any luck, they’d be having it for another seventy years.
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