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princessleechan · 6 months ago

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"You're the man!" Chapter 36 WRITTEN CHAPTER (18+)

Masterlist

⚽Chapter tags: MDNI, she’s the man au, revenge au???, cross dressing!reader, reader identifies anything but male, sports au, queer themes, university au, love-whatever the fuck kind of shape, dry humping, longing and lusting, smutish/suggestive

⚽Tag list: @90s-belladonna @the-boy-meets-evil @lirtha97 @hipsdofangirl @justineasian @kwanisms @multi-kpop-fanfics @pantumin @wooahaeproductions @mayashu @shuasdraftsalt @lone-lone-ranger @headlockimnida @horanghaezone @haolistic @porridgesblog @jeonjungkaka @luchiet @ujimatchaaa @skzdesi @cheoliehansolie @vlbii @myghobi @sisterofsomeone @joonsytip @gyublues @alltheshineofthestars-blog @randomworker @isabellah29 @savgogh @too-many-kpop-hubands @shingsoluvely @kamabokogonpachro @skittlez-area512 @seccdlurv @chisskaa @mochiteez @theyluvfrankocean @lllucere @thomawifey @middle-of-the-earth @okiedokrie-main @itsokaytobedumb00 @humankimbap @zezedoesshit @teenyfinds @jeonghansshitester @aaa-sia @heyitz00 @silvsie

It’s the second time you’ve decided to stay over at Soonyoung’s place, but things feel different than it did the first time.

You set aside your emergency duffle—something you've made a habit of carrying ever since you started impersonating Yeonam—next to Soonyoung’s couch. Your feet touch Soonyoung’s apartment floor, and you take in the comforting scent of Soonyoung’s lived-in space.

Yep. You’re losing it. Or are just insanely horny with the right person at the right time.

"Make yourself comfortable. Don't be shy. Nothing you haven't seen before."

"Thanks." You follow him to the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator filling the silence between you. He opens the fridge and pulls out a cold bottle, condensation forming on the glass as he turns back to you.

"Water?" he offers, extending the bottle toward you. As you reach out to take it, your fingers brush against his, a fleeting touch that sends a trail of electric currents through your skin, pebbling goosebumps. His touch is warm and lingering–like a gentle summer breeze on beach-kissed skin–sending delightful shivers down your spine and sending flutters to your chest.

You manage to hold his gaze, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction. "I hope I'm not making you nervous," he says, his voice low and reassuring, "at least not in a bad way."

As you take a sip, you peer at him curiously, letting the cold water wet your lips and flood your already dry throat. "What's the good kind?"

He grins. "The kind that makes you want to share a bed with me again."

Your heart does flips, and you press your lips together, trying to hide your smile as you nod. "Then maybe you do. The good kind, not the bad kind," you clarify, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Good,” He shuts the fridge, talking a leisure step towards you. “I never want to put you in a compromising position."

"I know you wouldn't."

"Well, unless..." he trails off, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You wait for him to finish but his eyes look away from you, subtle flush decorating his cheekbones. You lightly nudge him, eyes wide in tease. “Unless…?”

Your eyes lingered on each other, the tension thick, the already fragile ties of chastity between you tempting to snap. Soonyoung chuckled softly, deciding to restrain himself by walking away, the temptation tingling in his fingers as he clenched and unclenched them. "Nope. PG tonight. I can't have you throwing me off my literal game. Sharing a bed is as far as I'll risk it."

You roll your eyes, finishing the bottle before tossing it in the recycling bin. "Then, I'm gonna get ready for bed."

Soonyoung winces, biting his lips to suppress a tempted grin. "You say that like there's more to it."

"We'll have to see, won't we?" you reply impishly, retrieving your bag and heading to restroom.

Soonyoung can't help but trail behind you, his eyes tracing your every movement with an almost magnetic pull, captivated by each subtle gesture and shift. "I like you," he confesses, leaning casually against the bathroom door frame. His hands reach up to effortlessly embrace the door frame, a subtle display of restraint that somehow fails showcasing the veins bulging against his biceps that begs to be caressed. His grin is playful yet sincere, revealing more than just his intentions, even the ones he doesn't mean to. "But you're gonna have to keep your hands to yourself."

You scoff softly, a trace of skepticism lacing your voice. "I'm not the one you need to worry about."

Soonyoung lingers behind the closed bathroom door, his ears attuned to the sound of water flowing from the showerhead. A slow smile creeps across his face, reflecting a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. “I know,” he whispers under his breath, his fist tightening with excitement. He quickly dashes off, driven by the surge of anticipation to meticulously double-check the cleanliness of his room.

Meanwhile, you stand under the shower, letting the cool water cascade over your face. Each drop feels like a gentle relief against your burning skin, tense and taut from the thoughts racing through your head. You take a deep breath, feeling the rest of the stream rushing down your body in brisk anticipation.

You have no idea what tonight might bring, how far things could escalate, or how much you're willing to reveal in his presence. Tonight holds the potential for change.

Tonight, you might finally tell him the honest cold truth.

You exhale deeply, letting the air rush out, cleansing every corner with the soap lathered in your hands—even those usually shielded from the sun—preparing yourself for any scenario. Soonyoung may be aiming for nothing for the evening, but that could shift in an instant, leaving both of you more drained than anticipated before the game the following day.

After finishing your shower, you step into the bedroom designated for tonight. Soonyoung is already there, lounging invitingly on what appears to be freshly changed sheets, his smile welcoming as he looks up at you. "There you are," he says warmly, patting the spot beside him. "Get comfy."

You can't help but return his smile as you approach and hop onto the mattress. The air carries a trace of his freshly applied cologne, attempting to mask but somehow enhancing his natural scent, creating an intoxicating blend. As you settle in, his arms envelop your back, guiding you snugly against him. The closeness allows you to feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into yours with barely enough distance to admire his features as he does yours.

He begins tracing the shape of your eyebrows, the bridge of your nose, and then the curve of your lips, all with his eyes. It's as if he's mesmerized by your features, finding familiarity and beauty in every line. You feel a flutter of discomfort, wondering if he's scrutinizing you too closely, afraid of being caught off guard so early in the evening. But before you can ease the tension, Soonyoung seizes it, firmly pulling you closer to him, his nose brushing against yours.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he confesses in a single breath. "You and your beautiful face, and long tangents.”

You let out a chortle, covering your mouth timidly as you drew closer. “I can’t help those.”

“It’s a compliment. Speak your mind all you want.”

“You have the attention span for it?” You lightly nudge.

He tenderly knocks his forehead against yours. “You could go on about paint colors and you’d still have my attention.”

“I won’t put you through that misery.” Your hand combs through his hair, blown dry and sleek at the touch. Your fingers wander where they want to and massage into his scalp, watching his eyes delicately flutter shut as giggles leave his pretty lips.

His fingers wrap around your wrist, and the pads of his fingers caress your skin. “Don’t tease a guy.”

“I’m just playing with your hair.”

“It's not just my hair you’re playing with.” His hand slides down your back, following along the curve of your spine.

Your heart plummets, loosening the grip of your fingers before you reclaim his gaze, mischief playing a heavy hand. “Touchy, are we?”

“You started it.”

You muse back at him, melting into his touch, melting under his tender watch. “Soonyoung–”

His nose brushes against yours once more, tracing the bridge of your nose, his lips dangerously close. The single point of contact feels charged with a palpable ache, and you can't quite tell whose longing is louder. Your hands cup his cheeks, feeling the intense heat radiating from his skin against your cool palms. The only sounds now are the soft rustling of bodies against the bed, both of you struggling to get even closer, despite being already so near. “Why do I have a feeling there is a lot more to talk over DMs than in person, right now?” You hummed.

“Does that bother you?”

You shake your head, your nails lightly scraping against his skin. “I’ve got a good distraction.”

Your hips crushes against his, his presence of arousal brushing against your thigh, and you hear the sound of Soonyoung’s breath being hitched in his throat as you dig against between his legs. “Hey,” he utters breathlessly.

You let out a lethally soft moan, your flustered breath fanning Soonyoung’s face as you embrace the taut figure through his clothes, and gently grind against his arousal, feeding the voices in your head that call out to him.

He claims your waist, gently gliding down to your hips, and rides high with you, taking every thrust and grind with stride. The bulge in his pants takes a newer, bigger life and whether you like it or not–which you definitely do–you could feel every inch, dragging you down deep and deeper to succumbing.

You levy yourself on top of him, looming over him before squeezing his torso between your thighs. His gaze flicks up to you in soft confusion, but his hands follow seamlessly, tracing over your body delicately and feeling every bump and crush of him against your body. You’re vibrating at his size, moaning from his touch, no doubt feeling your arousal soak through your clothes.

“Slow down,” he gasps, “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Is that what you want?” You drew your lips to his ear. “Really?”

He shakes his head, clawing up your body as his other hand cups between you both and feel the heat of your cunt radiating on his palm. “No. Not at all.”

Your lips would hover over one another, touching but not kissing, as if testing each other’s patience. Few words pass between you, both of you consumed by the assertive touch of each other's movements. Soonyoung has to have everything in him not to take the plunge inside you right now but he knows what sex does and that’s warp his mind.

For a long time, he’s let sex take over his life, make it his reason to wake up, worm its way to every wrinkle of his brain, leading him to believe that it’s the solution to all his problems. And like any medicine, once you swallow a pill, you are done with that dosage. He can not let that happen to you. Not you. Never you.

But his urges are overpowering his desire for a deeper connection, one that he’d shame himself for hours later. He is nothing but weak in your presence and at the moment he craves you. “Please,” he begs helplessly.

“Please, what?”

Soonyoung fists around your clothes, bringing you closer as his thrusts grow frantic, voice brimming with plead and shame. He is overwhelmed with his lust and need, he can no longer deny himself of gratification, even if the clothes had to stay on. “Don’t stop…”

You can feel the sweat, the desperation, turmoil you’re going through. This feels good. Soonyoung feels good. You can only imagine what he’d feel like bare to his bones. How full he’s feel inside you, how slick it’d sound of him pushing in and out of you, how harsh the snaps of hips are as your skin collide. The thought alone–

“Oh my god, I’m close,” you give out. “I’m really fucking close.”

“Shit,” Soonyong replies, anguish tantalizing in his voice, “That’s so hot. I’m not even inside you yet.”

“Fuck you,” you chuckle, grinding deeper, his clothed erection practically poking hole through you.

“I may be on the same boat,” he admits, his thrusts losing their control. “I just never thought you’d be first to say it…I could cum here right now with you on top of me.”

“Soonyoung…”

“I mean it.”

There is another word that needs to be said as it quickly takes a turn. He’s toppling over you. Nothing gets in your way, and Soonyoung makes it clear that it goes the same for him, that he’d show no mercy. Through the fabric of your clothes, you explode against each other. Through fits of want and greed, you embrace everything, breathing in pants and sweat like they’re life forces, until finally, a shot lands right in its goal.

Soonyoung clutches you fervently, his jaw slack as his release drowns his briefs then his sweatpants, thrusting his final jerks against you. You lay satisfied underneath him, in a daze from your own orgasm, only able to process and think about the look on his face: how perfect he truly looked above all. How natural he feels against you, you’re maybe the happiest and most relaxed you’ve been in a very long time. In that moment you realize, what more can you want?

“Fuck,” he sputters with a smile. “Now I have to change.”

He beams at you with a wicked smile before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Why don’t you head to the bathroom while I freshen up the sheets again?”

“I don’t mind a little sweat and grime,” you reassure him, moving closer.

“Please do as I ask, or you’ll make me want to tire myself out even more for the big game when it’s already,” he glances at his bedside digital clock, “one in the morning. I’ll make it up to you afterward, hmm?”

You let out a defeated sigh before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Fine. I’ll clean up, and maybe I can clean up you,” you say, brushing the dark stain on his sweatpants, “after.”

“Tempting,” he hums with intrigue.

You peel away from him, lifting your shirt slightly to cool off the perspiration on your skin, revealing just enough to tease Soonyoung. The effect is immediate—he leans back, eyes lingering appreciatively on the enticing sight. “I’ll be back,” you say with a playful glance.

“And I’ll be waiting.”

Soonyoung watches you leave with a contented grin, settling into bed in a state of deep bliss, savoring each calming breath. In this peaceful moment, a chime interrupts the tranquility—a sound that demands attention and brings focus to itself. For Soonyoung, who is basking in his happiness, this chime is unexpectedly out of place. That wasn’t what his phone sounds like.

His gaze follows the chime, landing on a phone on his dresser that seems oddly out of place yet vaguely familiar. It’s the phone you inadvertently left behind when you joined him in bed, seemingly forgotten in the moment. Intrigued, Soonyoung picks it up, curiosity growing as he notices the screen cluttered with an array of messages. The names flashing across the display are unmistakably familiar, each one sparking fleeting flashes of recognition in his mind.

As Soonyoung sifts through the flood of texts new and old, a sinking realization dawns on him. What has he done?

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searchingforgravity · 3 months ago

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Graceland Experience - PART 10

Fandom: Elvis/Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You are more confused than ever before when you find something you can't explain. You wonder if you will ever get back to your own time, or if you are forever destined to live in the past.

TW: Kissing, mentions of unwanted sexual activity, brief sex, smut

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~4000

A/N: Sorry for the long wait with this one! I hope you guys enjoy!

"A beam expanding in a straight line could travel several miles before the Earth’s curvature made the surface fall away from it sufficiently to prevent further damage, and then it would be ten feet across. After that, flashing emptily into space, expanding and weakening, a queer strain in the fabric of the cosmos."

Well, this book won't seem to be of much help to you. Sighing, you close the book as you lean against a tree outside. You've just started reading Pebble in the Sky by Isaac Asimov, but it seems you'll have more luck with The Sound of Thunder. This book starts of with a scientist and his apprentice accidentally creating a whole in space and time with chemicals. That is not how you got here, at least you don't think so.

Looking back to the Graceland house, you admire its beauty. You still haven't fully accepted that you're here. Or that you drunkenly hooked up with Elvis last night. The more you think about last night, the more you question if it was a good decision or not.

Was Sonny just being jealous this morning, did last night not mean anything to Elvis? You aren't sure, but you decide that's not what's important right now. Looking back into the yard, you gaze at the stables in thought. How in the world are you going to get back home?

Maybe Elvis could help you get back...but how? You've explained to him how you just kind of showed up here on his couch. Maybe it was a chemical thing, maybe the couch is the key to getting back. Maybe there was some sort of electric charge that happened when you sat down that forced you back to 1961...

You sigh in frustration. You face the fact that you just don't know how you've gotten here, and maybe you never will.

"Hey, how's it goin' out here?" a voice calls suddenly, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin as your hands move to hide your book before realizing it's just Elvis.

"You scared me," you breathe, your clutch on the book loosening.

Elvis chuckles as he comes to sit beside you, his body heat instantly making you feel less anxious. Safer.

He hums as he lightly grips the book in your hand, causing you to release it.

"Any luck with this book?"

You sigh.

"Nope. Just a scientist figuring out time travel through chemicals. I don't think that's how I got here."

He opens it as his brow furrows thoughtfully, reading the same passage you did.

"Yeah, I agree with you there," he hums as he turns the book over in his hands in thought.

You look out in the yard, feeling the late summer breeze on your face, glancing over at the stables. The grass is a vibrant green around it as you imagine what the grand horses look inside. Your mind is taken back to when you watched Elvis mount the horse from your room. How beautiful he had looked.

"I spoke to Sonny," Elvis says suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts before you could get to wrapped up in them.

You turn your head back to him, searching his face.

"What happened?"

He hesitates for a moment, and your heart sinks. You search his face for any signs of a fight but couldn't find any. Elvis sees you searching him and waves his hand, dismissing your concern.

"It wasn't like that, we didn't fight or nothin'. But...well did you know he liked you so much?"

A shock runs through you like a lightning bolt. Your brows furrow as you can only imagine what Sonny had said to Elvis.

"I thought he might've liked me a little bit, but he never told me he did. He didn't try to make a move on me or anything."

"And you didn't- uh..." he starts, but is finding it difficult to finish his thought.

His face flushes slightly as he looks away from you for a moment.

"I didn't what?" you encourage, your curiosity peaking.

"Well, uh- you never...did you ever like Sonny?"

You're taken aback by this.

"You think I like Sonny?" you question, disbelief evident in your voice.

He instantly backtracks.

"Well, no! I mean, it's just that- you know Sonny's not a bad lookin' guy and- and he you know got you that gift and everything. He said he thought or maybe he hoped that you'd liked him," Elvis rambles, his hand coming to toy with a button on his shirt.

"I don't like Sonny, Elvis. I wasn't even planning to like you."

It comes out harsher than you intend it too, but it's the truth. You're kicking yourself for getting yourself caught in a situation with Elvis, but if you're being completely honest, you don't see a timeline where you wouldn't become involved with him given the opportunity.

"So you do like me, do you?" he questions, a small smirk appearing on his face, his embarrassment disappearing as it's replaced with a certain smugness.

"I think last night proved that well enough," you groan in feigned exasperation, waving away his cocky smile.

He hums.

"Oh, I'm not too sure, darlin'. I might need a little reminder. I can get a little insecure sometimes, you know?" he breathes as he inches his body closer to yours, turning so he faces you.

A warmth spreads down your body as he leans in, his eyes softening on yours before looking down to your lips. Reaching his hand out, he caresses your cheek and you lean into it, savouring the feeling. You feel his warm breath washing over your face, causing you to relax further as you lean into him.

"Remind me, honey," he mumbles, his lips centimeters away from yours, you can feel the buzz of electricity between them.

Your mouth opens slightly as a sigh tumbles from you. Leaning forward the slightest bit, your lips connect with his. You release a small sound of pleasure as you feel his warm, soft lips press up against yours, slow and sensual. He hums lowly as he presses his lips to yours with more intent, his body inching all the more closer as his hands come to thread through your hair, grasping your head gently to keep you from pulling away.

"It's startin' to come back to me," he groans, causing you to scoff playfully, pulling him back in for another kiss.

His hands leave your head as he roams them down your body, feeling the smooth fabric of your dress before landing on your hips, giving them a soft squeeze. Sighing into his mouth, you lean into his further, your tongue licking his bottom lip as you ask for entrance.

He instantly lets you into, groaning when he feels your tongue connect with his. Unlike last night, he lets you explore him, allowing you to take control of the kiss as he gives you access to himself. You don't think you will ever get tired of his taste on your tongue as it dances slowly with yours.

You feel yourself warming as the two of you continue, his hands coming back up to your face, slipping his tongue into your mouth now as you move closer, pressing him up against the tree as you move to sit on him, your head spinning. He moans.

"Mhh, be careful. I might have to take you to my room," he grunts, his hips lifting up to meet yours.

Your about to respond as you pull away, your cheeks flushed. You're about to say maybe he should, when out of the corner of your eye, something grabs your attention. Looking to a spot against the tree, your brows furrow. Then your blood runs cold. You pull away from Elvis, shock running through your system.

"Baby, what? Did I say somethin' wrong?" he questions, confusion on his face as he looks to you.

You shake your head, your eyes stuck on the spot on the tree.

"Elvis, look."

He follows your gaze as he turns, looking at the tree. At first, his brows furrow in puzzlement, not understanding what it is he's looking at.

"When did you do that?" he asks, looking back to you.

You heart feels like it's in your throat. There, etched into the tree is your name in bold capital letters, like a message. It doesn't look fresh, it looks like it had been there for at least a few years. Maybe longer. And it's your handwriting.

---

Bringing you inside, he tries to calm you down. Not much is helping as you sit on a chair in his room. You keep getting up, and pacing before sitting back down.

"Honey, I'm sure we can come to some sort of explanation."

"How?" you question, your gaze meeting his.

"Well, maybe there was someone else who lived here by that name years ago."

You shake your head.

"Elvis...it's my handwriting."

At this, he doesn't say anything. He can't argue with that. The slope of your lines in the wood, however old and weathered, were indeed in the same style you write. There was no denying you had written that on the tree. But How? And how long had it been there?

"Alright, well let's not freak out yet. We can-we'll figure this out," he says, but his usual confidence fails him.

"How is this even possible? I mean, that was written years ago. How can we figure this out, I don't even know what's going on!" your voice raises, fear striking you.

Would you ever make it back to your own time or will you be trapped in the past, and maybe go back further in the past? You don't even know what to think with this information.

"(Y/N), you're gonna hafta lower your voice," Elvis states, his voice dropping.

"Why?? Because I'm being hysterical? Well, I'm sorry but I have no idea what I just saw-" you start, a defensiveness creeping into your voice before he interjects.

"No! Because Sonny is in the house, that's why!" Elvis hisses, bringing you back to reality.

Shit. You've become so wrapped up in your own thoughts, you forgot that someone might hear you.

"Oh yeah, sorry," you say sheepishly as you sit back down on the chair, your eyes closing in contemplation.

You hear him sigh as he makes his way over to you, sitting on the chair opposite yours. Leaning forward in his seat, he takes your hands in his, causing you to open your eyes, looking to him for support. You need him to tell you something, anything to help you feel better.

"Right now, we don't know what it means, but if we freak out about it, that won't get us anywhere, right? So we just need to take a minute and relax."

You nod your head as you let a sigh tumble from your lips. He's right, you can't keep freaking out over everything that happens. Maybe you seeing this is a good thing. Future you must've figured out something in order to travel back in the past. At least it's not a step backwards.

At seeing you calm down a bit, he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it affectionately.

"Good, now what do you say we relax a little bit? We can think about this crazy stuff tomorrow. I'm sure not much will change in a day," he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

You agree, but you aren't so sure about not much changing. You have no idea how long that tree was bear outside before your name appeared, etching into it with big, ominous letters.

---

"Oh (y/n), don't stop. That feels real nice sweetheart. I told ya' Elvis couldn't fuck you like me," Sonny groans, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

You find yourself sitting on top of Sonny, he cock out of view inside you. Bile creeps up in your stomach as you try to get off of him. You're body only latches onto him more, moving up and down on him swiftly. Your face contorts in disgust as you press against his chest, trying to push him away from you.

"Did you ever find that letter?" he groans, his hands coming to guide your hips on him.

Before you have time to question what he means, you lurch forward in bed, a cold sweat covering you. Elvis immediately stirs awake beside you, turning to face you.

"What's wrong, honey? Is it a nightmare?" Elvis croaks, his eyes opening as he tries to adjust to the darkness.

You are disoriented as it takes you a moment to remember where you are. After you and Elvis had a talk about the tree, you relaxed with him that day, ordering dinner and watching movies. He asked you to spend the night in his room with him. You said yes.

"Yes, God I'm sorry," you groan, the dream flooding your mind as you try to rid yourself of Sonny's face.

"What was it about?" he murmurs, his hands feeling for you blindly.

You hesitate as you allow him to wrap his arms around you, his lips searching yours as he pulls you back to lay down, leaving a soft peck on your lips.

"I don't remember," you lie after a long moment of silence.

His hand comes to smooth out your hair as he leaves a small kiss on your forehead. You're not sure how Elvis would react to you having a sex dream about Sonny, even if it had been a nightmare. You imagine nothing good would come out of you telling him. He doesn't push you on the subject as his arms come to wrap around your waist.

"I'm sorry baby, I wish you didn't have so many nightmares," he hums, sympathy lacing his voice as he waits for you to get comfortable in his arms.

"It's okay. I wish it would stop happening," you sigh your hands coming to thread through his hair, finding comfort in the action as he sighs softly.

"Let me hold you a while," he murmurs, sleep suddenly riddling his voice as you imagine how tired he is.

You turn around in his arms as he glues his chest to your back, his hand brushing the hair from your neck so he can leave a gentle kiss on it. You sigh as you lean back into him, trying to get comfortable.

He hums softly as he snuggles his face into your hair.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to ya', you know that right?" he murmurs, the words getting lost in your hair.

"Okay," you whisper, weaker than you intend as you lace your fingers through his.

Bringing your hand to his lips, he gently kisses your hand. Looking into the dark room, you listen as his breathing pattern becomes slower, until he starts snoring softly. You only wish it could be that easy for you. As you look into the darkness, a lump starts to form in your throat. Why is this happening?

You snuggle your body back into his, trying to get some sleep, but you get the feeling you won't be getting much of it.

---

Waking up in the morning, you are surprised you were able to fall back to sleep. Stretching, you look over to see Elvis still sleeping, a peaceful expression on his face as his palm rests on his chest, his other reaching out in your direction. You admire his face as you scoot closer to him, his outstretched arm instantly wrapping around you. You smile as you see his eye flutter open at your movements, instantly looking into yours.

"Good morning," you breathe, snuggling into him further.

He smiles.

"Good morning, sweet heart. Were you able to get some sleep last night?" he rasps, his morning voice causing a warm feeling to surround you.

His grip tightens around you.

"Yeah, I got a little sleep," you nod, your eyes traveling to his lips as he moistens them with his tongue.

"That's good to hear, baby," he mumbles, his eyes drooping as he looks down at you.

He looks at your lips before dipping his eyes down to your chest which is pressed up against him. You don't have to read his mind to know what he's thinking about. He shifts on the bed as he looks up to your eyes again.

"It's nice to have you in my bed," he mumbles softly, his hands coming to cup your face and his lips dip down to yours, kissing you softly.

You hum into the kiss as you lean into him, a pooling quickly forming in your core.

“It’s nice being in your bed,” you respond, your hands roaming his body before softly landing on his bare chest, feeling his body react to your touch.

“You like being in my bed do you?” He mumbles, that smirk forming on his face. “I wonder if there’s anything else you would enjoy doing with me…in my bed.”

You hum in thought.

“I can think of a few things.”

He laughs softly, his grip tightening on your face before pulling you to him, his lips connecting with yours. He kisses you slow and sensually, with intent. You sigh into the kiss as you bring yourself closer to him, softly licking his bottom lip as you ask for entrance.

Immediately he opens his mouth to you. As your tongue makes its way into his mouth, the kiss is unlike the ones yesterday. This time, he let’s you take the lead as you explore him, your tongue swirling around his with curiosity. He groans as his hands Travel their way down to your waist.

Wanting to be closer to him, you move your body as you sit on him, your core coming to rest on top of his growing erection. Cautiously, your swirl your hips around him, earning a groan from his lips as he brings his hands from your waist to rest on your thighs.

Grinding down on him again, a small whine erupts from you as his erection brushes against your clit in such a way it has you breaking the kiss, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Tell me what makes you feel good, baby. I wanna hear you make that sound again,” he groans, his hips coming to meet yours as you grind on him once more.

You blush. Never had a man you’d been with put in the amount of effort to make you feel good that Elvis has, just by asking you what you like in bed. You’re not sure how to respond. He notes your hesitation.

“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I try a few things, and you tell me what feels good for you,” he suggests, the rasp in his voice going straight to your core.

“Okay,” you whisper, breathless.

Bringing his hands back to your face, he leans up in bed, capturing your lips in his once more. You sigh at the taste of him. Humming, he gently works his tongue into your mouth, swirling his tongue around your slowly, with intent. You moan quietly.

After a moment of this, his tongue retreats back into his mouth, his teeth biting on your bottom lip softly, tugging. You moan louder as you grind down on him again, the feeling adding to the wetness in your panties.

“Did you like that?” He mumbles breathlessly, his lips coming to kiss your cheek.

“Yes, I liked the biting,” you whisper, your cheeks flushing at the admission.

He hums quietly at this.

“Good girl.”

The comment goes straight to your core. Your a little embarrassed with how turned on you are, you’re not sure why. Hiding your face in his neck, you kiss it softly. His hands find their way to your hair, leaning his neck into your lips as a sigh escapes his mouth.

“Does it make you feel good when I call you that?”

Your face feels like it’s on fire.

“Yes,” you mumble, the word getting lost on his neck.

He hums again as his hands travel down your back and to the front of your body, softly cupping your breasts. You grind on him again, and this time he meets your thrust, his erection having grown more prominent and a groan erupts from him. The sensation of his clothed cock has your eyes rolling back as you realize the only thing separating your bodies are yours and his underwear, your nightgown having ridden up to your waist.

“I wanna try more, baby,” he grunts, his thumbs flicking your nipples, causing a sigh to escape your lips.

You pull your face out from his neck as you look at him, his eyes blazing with desire. You nod your head as you agree before he connects his lips to yours once more.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Tag List:

@horrorgirl4life @goldobsessionsworld @tantamount-treason @peaceloveelvis @father-of-2cats @sissylittlefeather @elvisalltheway101 @littlehoneyposts @atleastpleasetelephone @ccab @msamarican @presleyhearted

#elvis imagine #elvis presley #elvis 2022 #elvis the pelvis #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #elvis fanfic #elvis fans

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 2 years ago

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Playtime

Kim Hongjoong x fem reader x Kang Yeosang

a/n: yeosangs arms + hongjoong brain rot + bsf putting ideas in my head = this ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE

"Playtime is so far from over."

✫彡wordcount: 2.4k

(>ᴗ•)genre: p w/o plot, crime au

ಠ_ಠwarning/contents: not edited, ddlg themes, established relationship(hj&reader), brat reader, dom hj, switch(?)ys, rough housing, voyeurism/exhibitionism, overstim, fingering, cunilingus, choking, squirting, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, protected and unprotected, lots of pet names

SMUT UNDER CUT MDNI

It's hard not to be intimidated. Hongjoong is big. He's buff and tall. He's the Captain of an underground vigilante group. He's scary. Even though you know deep down that your boyfriend would never put you in the line of danger or lay a hand on you: your heart is thumping as he sits back with an aura of subtly covered anger.

"You know I can't help these things. Why ar-" He takes a deep breath before he lets his anger speak for him. "You know I want you... But I have to get this done."

But you don't care. You need him. You need your boyfriend to make you stupid on his cock.

"No!" You whine, jumping up from the plush bed and jumping on him before he can stand. "Please, Daddy," you grind down on the forming tent in his dark skirt. "I'm so needy... haven't cum in days."

"I know, Baby. I'll have so much time for you when I get back. I'll take good care of my little girl."

"Wan' it now. Please, make me cum. I don't care how, just please, please!"

"I- stop it." He grabs your wrist as you go to flip up his skirt.

"You're already hard, Joongie. Let me just touch it," you almost cry, bouncing up and down on his knee. His eyes drop to your breasts, wrapped up all prettily in his favorite babydoll dress. The lace on the v-neck barely covers your nipples, and he can see a bit of pebbled flesh peek out as you move. "I need it, I need play," your brain short circuits as you watch the vein on his neck bulge.

"Need play? Stupid little girl can't even talk," he groans as he stands with you in his arms. He all but slams you on the bed and hovers over you like a predator. "Ask me again."

"I need playtime! I need it!"

He slaps you. Albeit lightly, it stings.

"I said ask, not beg."

Neither of you notice as the door opens.

"Please, Daddy... can we have playtime before you go? I promise it'll be quick, I'm so excited already."

"Daddy's gonna fuck you on his fingers, okay?" Before he's even finished speaking, you're rolling around under him to messily pull off your cute undies.

The shadowy figure at the doorway watches with wide eyes as the cotton fabric catches on your foot and dangles as Hongjoong pulls you ass to the edge. "You got something to say?" They hear him ask.

"Thank you, Joongie. Oh-" Your breath catches as he dips his longest finger into your wet cunt. You fall back in pure bliss as he fucks you on his finger slowly. "Thank you, thank you." You whine like a broken record, luring the figure to come closer.

Yeosang knocks into the desk by the door and catches both of your attention. You lean up to wrap around Hongjoong, which might be a mistake as it drives his palm into your needy clit. You whimper as you look at the newcomer, all while your boyfriend continues. "Hongjoong, s-stop."

"Stop? You wanted to cum so badly, Baby Girl. Don't act all cutesy now that Yeo's here."

"Uhm," he clears his throat. "The- eh- Seonghwa was wondering where you are. Should I tell him you're busy or..."

"Hongjo-"

"Quiet, Honey, adults are talking."

"Joong!" You grab onto the back of his neck with your nails, crying as he presses into your g-spot. You dive your head into his chest and muffle yourself by biting at the leather on his shirt.

"Open up my phone, Yeosang." The younger grabs it from the desk that foiled his voyeuristic tendencies. "Text him and tell him we won't be there. We'll catch the next plane."

"We?"

"Me and you. We've got a brat to deal with."

"No, I- been good," it's mumbled by the leather in your teeth, but it gets across to him. "Jus' want to cum. Please, can I cum?" You whisper, locking eyes with Yeosang over his shoulder.

"Yes, Baby, cum." He moans as your hands trail down and under his skirt and boxers, grabbing the flesh of his ass. "Cum for Daddy. Get that pussy gushing for some real playtime."

Your eyes roll back as you clench down on his fingers, body threatening to fall back when his free hand wraps around your back and pulls you flush. It feels so, so, so good. Flooding your system and making you shiver with pleasure.

Only he doesn't stop. "God-" Your plead breaks off in your throat, leaving you silently screaming as the lewd noises fill your ears. "Daddy, please! S'too much! Too much! Gonna break!" You writhe around, slipping from his grasp and scooting away only for his fingers to follow you like they're a magnet.

"You're not gonna break," he laughs, grabbing the flimsy fabric of your babydoll dress and fists it tightly. "Stay still."

You can't. His fingers feel too good. Your mind is going into over drive with the flood of pleasure and you don't realize that your now backing into Yeosangs hard form. You only realize when you grab onto his knee and slot yourself between his legs.

He tilts your head up to face him and smiles at the way your face feels so hot in his hands. "Hi, Baby."

"Sangie, s'too good. Make him stop. M'gonna cum again." You kick your legs, one of which held in place by Hongjoong while he watches the encounter closely. It's not the first time you've played with one of his members, and it won't be the last. But he still makes sure you don't slip too far and off the deep end. He makes sure Yeosang follows the boundaries that are set in stone. He still makes sure to watch your hands incase you try to tell him it's really too much.

But your hands are only grabbing the sheets desperately. Your begging is only for compassion. And Yeosang provides it as your boyfriend continues his assault on your sloppy cunt.

"Awe, poor Bunny. You want me to hold your hand?" You nod, lifting your hand up in a grabbing motion. He wraps it up in his and gives you a comforting squeeze as Hongjoong lowers his head to face your core. "Didn't you ask Daddy to make you cum?"

"Mhm." You bite your lip as you watch him descend, teasing you by licking his lips.

"Then shouldn't you say thank you?"

"Thank y-"

You scream as he dives right into your pussy, focusing on your neglected pearl as he draws tight circles on it. "Fuck!"

He slaps your thigh as you try to run away, pulling back to scold you. "Watch your language, Missy."

"Sorry, shit- God! I'm sorry, Daddy! M'sorry! I'm gonna cum again! Please," you yell as your body betrays you and writhes around between them. "Please, can I?"

"Hold her still."

You groan as Yeosang lets go of your hand and wraps one big arm around your torso, the other around your collar bones, keeping your upper body still while Hongjoong holds your hips still with his free hand pressing into your pelvis.

As he starts licking at your weeping cunt, you scream, staring up at Yeosangs beautiful eyes, watching them glaze over with lust as he watches. "Sangie..." You whisper. All eyes flick to you. "Choke me while he makes me cum. Please. Please, Sir, choke me! M'close!"

He looks to Hongjoong, who shows now signs of stopping, he just looks to your neck, like he's waiting to watch your request play out. "Please, S-Sir! Want your pretty arms around my throat- need... need them!"

He obliges, arm sliding up and around your throat. He tightens it ever so slightly, and your eyes roll back before fluttering shut completely. "Our Baby likes being choked," he hums, amused, as your grab at his arm with one hand and Hongjoongs hair with the other. "Think she's gonna cum, Joong."

He pulls away for a split second, slick dribbling from his chin. "Go harder, Sangie."

"Yeah," you moan blissfully, dumbly repeating your Daddy, "harder, Sangie!"

His beautifully sculpted arms tighten like an anaconda, making the edges of your vision blur as the pleasure consumes your whole being. You tense up in their hold as your second orgasm in a row snaps in your gut. Clawing at his arm with a fucked out face, you wet your boyfriends face with your cum.

They watch in fascination as you squirt, Hongjoong quickly opening his mouth to slurp it all up. He hums around your over-sensitive cunt, making you come back down to Earth with a whimper of, "more, Daddy."

Yeosang goes to drop his arm when you pull it right back up, glaring up at him with tearful eyes through your moist lashes. "Daddy?" You call out as you keep your eyes on him.

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"Can Sangie fuck me, please?"

He wipes his face on the back of his hand and climbs up over you, untangling you from Yeosangs arms and lifting you up to your knees. He balls up a good amount of the fabric of the skimpy nightgown and then rips it off.

Yeosnag works quickly to grab the spaghetti straps and pulls them over your shoulders, leaving you bare and breathless between the leather clad men.

"Because you asked so nicely, Starlight," he coos as he wipes back your messy hair. He leaves soft kisses all over your sweaty face, and pauses before diving into your lips. You taste yourself on his tongue as she shoves it into your mouth. He doesn't give you any time to register what's even happening behind you.

Yeosang tosses the foil off the bed and wraps himself up snuggly before climbing right up on you. He slips right into your tight cunt and moans in tandem with you as he inches in.

He fits so differently than Hongjoong, who's cock is all but imprinted in your insides, but it's just as delicious when he fully settles inside your gummy walls.

"Does he feel good, Baby? Making your pussy happy?" He asks as he cups your heated cheeks, smiling as you nod with a fucked out grin.

"Ki- kissies." You whimper as Yeosangs thrusts send you into his chest. "Kissies, Dada. Please."

He licks up your collar bone to your ear, holding your hips in place as Yeosang tries rearrange your insides to fit him instead of Hongjoong.

He bites down on your earlobe and you grab his shoulders, moaning like a bitch in heat.

He snakes his arm back around your neck and grabs his friend with the other to steady the both of you.

"You're such a good girl," Hongjoong muses, kissing you harshly. Your cunt tightens around Yeosangs girth and he tightens his arm, making you moan into the kiss. He leans away breathlessly, colliding his forehead with yours. "My good little slut. Aren't you? Making all our friends so happy? Letting them fuck that pretty cunt."

"Yes, Daddy," you huff, keeping your eyes trained on him even as your vision blurs. "M'your good girl."

"Open up, good girl." He taps your lips and slides his slick covered digits into your mouth. "That's it," he moans as you gag on them.

Yeosang watches in a trance, hips snapping into your ass and filling the room with the lewdest noises of your gooey cunt. He leans his head against yours, all of your breaths colliding in the close proximity. He can hear the way his fingers kiss the back of your throat, just barely. And it drives him crazy.

"Fuck her harder. Make her cum again."

"Gah-" You screech as Yeosangs long cock knocks against your cervix at the same time Hongjoongs palm slaps your puffy clit. "Can't! Daddy! Daddy! M- I can't!" He swirls the two extra wet fingers around your clit and cups your chin, squishing your cheeks.

His fingers still for a moment as you pout at him, giving him puppy dog eyes. Then he slaps them back down and returns his unrelentingly circles. "Fuck, Daddy!"

"Watch that mouth, Honey, or we'll have to keep it busy."

"M'sorry! It's- I can- Daddy!"

"Why don't you cum for me?" Yeosang coos behind your ear, making sure his lips never touch your skin. "Cum all over my cock, Pretty Bunny."

"Ah! Ah! Sangie! Gonna- I'm go-" Before you can warn him properly, your pussy is cumming and milking him for all he's worth as he fills up the condom.

You both fall into Hongjoongs waiting arms and he lays you down gently, making him whine as he slips out of your heat.

"Good," he whispers lowly, watching you turn slowly and cling to Yeosang as he tears of his clothes. He comes close to you, only in his skirt and boxers. "Can't you take one more, Starlight? Wanna take Daddy's load?" You nod softly, scooting to lay lonesome and spread your legs. "Yeah? Want me to fill up that little cunt?"

"Please, Daddy." You smile as Yeosang cuddles up to your side and reaches his hand down to your puffy pussy. He's gentle as he spreads you for him, looking up at him for approval.

"Thank you, Sangie." He says with a quick pat and a smile.

You cry as he slips into you, grabbing Yeosangs head and whining into his sweaty hair.

"Oh, don't cry," he wipes your tears away. "Playtime is so far from over."

#ateez #kim hongjoong #kang yeosang #hongjoong #yeosang #ateez smut #hongjoong smut #yeosang smut #hongjoong x reader #yeosang x reader #smut fic

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lamemaster · 7 months ago

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The Beer Slayer 2.0 (Slayer of Roots)

Request: Could you do a part two of the glorfindel x reader that you did in the what the hell is happening event? Maybe how they first met and those first impressions to falling in love or glorfindel deepening the relationship with her after the initial events?

Pairing: Glorfindel x Reader

Genre: Pining fluff

Summary: 5 problems 1 solution- repression.

AN: Sorry for being so late but it's been rough. I hope you like this. Reader POV for this one. I will be working on requests slowly as mental health permits :D

Part 1- The Beer Slayer

You are in love. Well, screw it. You are in love with a guy you can't even breathe around. One glance at him and your heart crumbles like a sandcastle under a toddler's heel, pathetic and insignificant. It practically begs him to finish the job.

So you steel yourself and take the seat opposite from him, leaving a chasm of emptiness between you two. You plaster a smile on your face for Tommy's next attempt at humor, the kind that usually lands him a date.

Today, however, your forced enthusiasm lands with a thud. Because you're not interested. And flirting? Absolutely not. You believe in the opposite. Repression is your middle name.

Every time your path collides with Glorfindel, you launch into a full-body assault on your thundering heartbeat. Your smile is a tightrope act, never daring to stretch a millimeter further than polite social interaction. He can't know. The very thought is laughable.

Glorfindel, the radiant center of everyone's universe, wouldn't even look at you twice. He's a freaking star, and you're a pebble yearning for the sky.

You're practically hyperventilating by the time you reach the next staircase. You picture your lungs as deflated balloons, gasping for air after two measly flights.

Just when you think you might faint from oxygen deprivation, you see him. Glorfindel's glorious mane is caught in the intricate metal railing, a prisoner of its own beauty. He's perched precariously on a chair, his head hanging in defeat.

Sucking in the last dregs of air, you manage a weak wave. Your smile, practiced for weeks in the mirror, feels brittle. You tear your gaze away, unable to meet his eyes for fear of your heart erupting from your chest.

Glorfindel turns towards you, and a smile, so breathtaking it should be illegal, splits his face in two. Every fiber of your being screams to mirror it, to bask in the warmth of his attention.

You almost, almost ditch that stupid chem lecture you haven't been paying attention to in weeks.

Just as you turn to mutter a choked "see you later, "The sound of ripping hair echoed through the stairwell, a horrifying screech that made you wince. Glorfindel stood there, a clump of hair dangling from his fingers like a macabre trophy.

His face, however, was a masterpiece of conflicting emotions. A valiant attempt at a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, while his eyes held a definite flicker of pain.

Your mouth gapes like a beached fish, sputtering for words that stubbornly refuse to appear. Glorfindel's normally bright eyes are suspiciously watery.

"Oh my gosh, are you seriously okay?" you blurt, desperately trying to avert your gaze from the potential bald spot. The thought of a Glorfindel with a patchy mane sends shivers down your spine, both sympathetic and slightly terrifying for the entire Glorfindel fan club (which, ahem, you might be a reluctant member of).

You glance between the fistful of golden hair and his face. "So..." you begin, voice thick with a poorly concealed tremor, "nurse or hairdresser?" The mental image of either fixing this epic hair fail is equally unfathomable.

But before you can process further, a sound erupts from your own throat. It starts as a hesitant snort, morphing into a full-blown, snorting laugh that you're fairly certain Glorfindel wouldn't appreciate under normal circumstances.

Unfortunately, normal circumstances have flown out the window the moment his hair became a sacrificial lamb to the stairwell railing.

By the time the minute mark rolls around, your sides ache from the effort to stifle your laughter. You swear you can almost feel the beginnings of a six-pack forming under your doubled-over form. When you finally manage to peek through tear-filled eyes, Glorfindel is staring at you with a look of...amazed fascination?

That's how you ended up with a clump of braided hair in your palm. You weren't exactly a valiant knight on a noble quest, but in that moment, Glorfindel made a surprisingly convincing damsel in distress, with gloriously strong hair, no less.

#the silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #tolkien elves #glorfindel x reader #drabble #fluff #lots of pining #glorfindel the certified material gorl 💅🏻

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evreeone · 28 days ago

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just thoughts, nothing in the Pits necessarily!

i've been really wanting to create so bad recently but kind of at a loss on What....i want to start an art blog or make an account on another site and draw OCs but like 90% of my OCs have been shelved and people don't tend to engage too much with OC content unless it's like Real Good Art....so i was like maybe fanart? ? but realized that the majority of if not the entirety of the media i consume is games with a character customizer......and i've never latched onto NPCs much....except like shane from stardew valley, pebbles from rain world and the mushroom guy in citizen sleeper but i haven't been able to focus on finishing that last one so i really only have the first two options but i'm not really Inspired to do fanart rly.....weeping crying etc. i just need some sort of consistent creative outlet again and i need to Share with others 2 validate my Craft

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king-paimon · 11 months ago

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Houseki no Kuni Chapter 106 Thoughts: Bon Voyage...

Hello all. I hope these last few months have been kind to you in some way. These months have been... a lot. Some very good things happened, and some very bad. I wish we lived in a world were tragedies were just fiction, but that sadly isn't the case. I won't elaborate, but I promise, I'm okay. I just hope 2024 improves, though I know for many others, just hoping isn't enough.

I'm sorry for this late post. Once again, real life had me so distracted that I honestly forgot about Houseki no Kuni's chapter coming out this month. I only remembered when I saw activity around my older HnK posts.

Well, I finished reading the chapter and it was very beautiful and sad in different ways. I'll share more of my thoughts, though I don't think it'll be as long or detailed as my previous ones to be honest... Though I could be wrong! We'll see how it fairs. And who knows? Maybe I'll make another post to dissect this chapter further. But for now, I'll just write whatever comes to mind and try to make it as coherent as possible. I hope you like it. And as always, please feel free to share your own thoughts!

Here we go!

Thunderous Spectacle: The Final Journey

Once again, Ms. Haruko Ichikawa decided to flex her art skills by making beautiful, bombastic illustrations that encapsulates the chaos that is happening on Earth. And the ship departing looks straight out of a sci-fi movie; my mind went to Star Trek when I first saw those pages. Maybe Dune would be more appropriate; I actually don't know, I haven't read or watched Dune, though I hear it's very good.

I wish I had more to say about the visuals for this chapter, but I think they speak for themselves. I will say though...It's moments like this when I marvel... this was originally about a silly gem child trying to find their place in the world. And this is how their journey is finally coming to an end. Almost nothing is recognizable. This certainly was not how I thought this story, or specifically Phos' story, was going to unfold. I wonder if this was Haruko Ichikawa's plan from the beginning? Who can say...

Speaking of plans... Let's talk about Phos's and Eyeball's conversation.

Manipulation or Consideration: Humanity's Parting "Gift"

That was an interesting conversation Eyeball and Phos had when they were finishing up putting the little pebbles onto the ship. I think I remember stating in the last post how I thought it was odd that the Lunarians had this ship prepared for Phos. I'm glad this was somewhat addressed, but the conversation reveals that there was more behind this literal Deus ex Machina ship.

(I will never stop calling it that)

So if I'm understanding Eyeball's logic, Adamant and the Lunarians were considering Phos in the end? That after Phos fulfilled their last duties to the remnants of humanity that they'd be given the chance to leave the planet with whatever species came about before the planet died- Oh. Wait.

Wait.

Was this the thing that Adamant and Aechmea were alluding to back in chapter 96???

Oh my goodness, I think it was.

As I was typing this and going over some of the saved pages I had from the previous chapters, I saw the one with Euclase and I suddenly remembered their weird conversation with Adamant and Aechmea. I also remembered wondering what the heck they meant in the later chapters since their plan for Phos seemed to only be self serving.

HUH.

( Please let me know if I'm way off! For all I know, I could be making stuff up, but oh my goodness, when I made that connection AAaahh)

This was not how this portion was originally going to go, but there you go. I was going to talk about how twisted but not surprising how calculated everything was from the the Lunarians and the other ruminants of humanity's end. And I was also going to mention how the Doctor also fit into this since she was also calculated and manipulative in her own ways. Despite the different forms it takes, humanity didn't seem to change much in this world...

I was also going to originally say that the Deus ex machina ship feels like a backhanded "gift" for Phos, especially after everything that happened to them. And though I still feel that way, after thinking back to chapter 96, I'm now starting to see Phos's perspective of this gift. That despite everything that they put them through, Phos's former families still left this parting gift for them so they could live on elsewhere after they are long gone and when Phos was free from their duties. It's still a backhanded gift in my opinion, but it showed that they cared... at least a bit.

And the fact that their plan also included Eyeball is just wow. I do not blame his small, comedic outburst for that realization. He was manipulated too from the getgo!

At least in the end, Phos chose not to go into the ship. Phos intended to burn that bridge. Even though this thought was implanted by Sensei, Adamant, and the Lunarians, Phos still made that choice on their own and they are owning it. It's bittersweet, though, because regardless of whether or not they stayed or went, Phos's decisions were still a result of them being manipulated one way or another. Pretty much a lose-lose kind of situation, but at least the choice that Phos chose in the end still aligned with what they wanted in they end.

They are giving Eyeball and the little pebbles a chance for a fresh start while Phos can finally end the cycle... By taking humanity and himself to bitter end...

Or does he?

Goodnight, Phosphophyllite

The final farewell between Phos and Eyeball was touching. In a last minute decision to give Phos closure and in an act of true salvation, Eyeball took the last piece of Phos with him. The true remaining piece of Phosphophyllite. To me, this action felt more earnest and heartwarming than the Deus Ex Machina Ship (but that's just me).

What will happen with that piece of Phosphophyllite? Who knows? Maybe that piece will gain sentience and live a peaceful life with the pebbles? A life free of all the constraints as well as the freedoms that was intentionally and unintentionally reinforced within societies created by the former remnants of humanity? I suppose we'll have to wait and see.

As for the Phos that was left behind? The Phos that we've watch evolve from the beginning to end? They will finally rest.

They will finally, and truly be free.

(Albeit in a seemingly not so pleasant way?? Well, they weren't complaining so maybe the lava and other harsh elements isn't hurting them. I hope that's the case.)

I had the feeling that this chapter will be the last time we see Phos, or at least this version of Phos, and it would be a sad but proper send off.

But after seeing THIS at the end, I'm not so sure:

Of course Haruko Ichikawa decides to be cheeky with that little note. Ma'am. Why did you say this???

Is this her roundabout way of saying that Phos is kind of back to square 1? Of being the lonely, jobless Phos who no longer has a purpose and is left with nothing to do but "think." That's pretty funny/messed up joke if that's what she's hinting at.

But again, we'll have to wait and see.

WELP. That's all I have for you all. I hope you enjoyed my ramblings and I'd love to hear what you thought about this chapter. We're nearly at the end of this saga. We're are almost there...

Please be worth it.

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #lotl #hnk spoiler #hnk spoilers #hnk manga #lotl spoilers #hnk meta #hnk phos #personal thoughts #hnk chapter 106 #hnk chapter 96 #hnk analysis #story analysis #long post #meta post

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meepetteoneonly · 13 days ago

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Snakes and Ladders: IV.

Also on AO3: here

Previous chapter: here

Chapter summary:

Raphael deals with the PTSD, although he doesn't know he has PTSD and he would never ever admitted he has one. Mephistopheles is not dead yet. Young Enver Gortash pursues his own luck and suggests Canias should be selling narcotics. Araj Oblodra cooks amphetamines. Harleep craves Raphael's attention and doesn't take no as an answer.

TW:

PTSD. Child abuse. Alcohol. Swearing. Wight-loss medication. Drugs. Poverty. Childhood in poverty. Arguing in relationship. Toxicity in relationship.

Note:

I took me two months to finish this chapter. I must admit that it is hard for me to force myself to write on PC for fun after the whole day writing on PC for work. Sometimes, I am just too exhausted that I would rather stare into the wall for hours. So - if anyone will pay attention to this fic after I haven't been active in creative way at all here - thank you.

It was a long, tiresome afternoon full of invoices to verify and payments to made. Korilla would be more than capable to deal with this quite ordinary paperwork herself, but Raphael preferred to maintain control over his own business. Perhaps, he was just as old fashioned as his father in certain ways. Sharing traits with Mephistopheles - that wasn't an idea that pleased him. He was different, wasn't he? Better, even. His wandering gaze stopped at the cold, quiet fireplace opposite to the door to his office. He wouldn't beat a little child with a fire poker, would he? It was almost thirty years but the scar that Mephistopheles left on his shoulder was still prominent. But people too often presumed what they would or wouldn't do, usually with rather stupid and unfounded trust in their own characters. Raphael was certain about that. But the idea that he may not be better than such fools - that horrified him.

He threw the dying cigarette into ashtray and watched the fire poker for a little longer. Such variable piece of black metal. It never ceased to fascinate him how many of completely ordinary things made such effective weapons. Fire poker. Jump rope. Coat hanger. Broomstick. Wine bottle.

Raphael got up and took the fire poker. He swung it few times and then he hit the solid wood mantel above the fire place. The a dull thud resonated through the room and the air vibrated. Yet, it didn't lift the tension he felt. Instead he sensed something growing inside of his chest; something as uncomfortable as pebble in the shoe. A lump of self-disdain which was rather strange feeling to him. Usually, he wasn't one who wallowed in emotional mud and he rarely tolerated it to others. And yet, a single a though of his father dragged him down into this pathos.

The fire poker clank against the floor as Raphael dropped it. He kicked the thing of his way and got back to the papers.

Once the hour hands made it past the eight in the evening, the House of Hope began to wake up. It was still too early for the beast to roar, but the main area was already crowded. People chat and laughed. Some of them greeted Raphael enthusiastically as he made his way through the guests, asking how he is. Or how his father is. The hell I care… He had enough of Mephistopheles for today. Maybe even for the rest of his life. But as Enver called him earlier today that they need discuss something urgent in person, he knew that he will unavoidably stumble over his father in conversation at least one more time this evening.

Raphael took himself a seat at the bar, asked for a glass of whiskey and lit himself a cigarette. Either Enver fucked something up or he had another one of his business ideas. Although, some of them weren't bad. The problem was that Enver's excitement tend to make him blind to practical issues. Perhaps, Enver thought of himself being a visionary of some sort. And maybe he was right about that and one day, he will be the one setting rules. Raphael could imagine that and that was the reason why he kept Enver close. People with potential were the best investment.

"How does it going this evening?" Raphael asked bartender who focused on pouring yellowish liquid into glasses.

"Well…" the bartender mumbled, "Just as usual. But Mai Tais seem to be getting more and more popular." He finally said when he emptied the shaker.

"Do they?" Raphael slightly rose his eyebrows. "I would imagine people drinking Mai Tais on a beach rather than in the middle of winter."

The bartender reached for a bottle of dark Coruba and pored it on the top of the sweet and sour base. "I think there's not such a thing as a right season for cocktail. If it's good, you'll enjoy it. And these…" His skilled hand topped each of the drinks with a mint spring. "…. indeed are."

This boy seemed to be a good choice. Korilla's choice. He was new but learnt quickly. And he was truly enjoying what he was doing. Raphael observed his smooth movements. He wasn't just making drinks. That would be far below the level of this boy's craftsmanship.

"Voilà." He said, resembling an satisfied artist (if such a thing exists) and fetched the glasses to the waitress. Than he turned back to Raphael: "Your… wife likes them too."

Chatty, but cautious, Raphael thought. "Ah, Harleep is not my wife." That idea amused him. "But I believe she does. She likes anything that is fun."

Bartender said nothing. Fun was a lovely euphemism in this case.

"About that night," Raphael began, "I assure you there is nothing to fear of if you refuse to make her another drink. In fact, I will rather appreciate it. She may be my significant other, but that does not mean she can drink all our stocks."

"I'll remember that."

"Good."

Bartender's eyes slipped to the rough looking man who was just making his way to the bar. Among all the other polished guests, he seems lost on a way to nearby pub. But the bartender knew he shouldn't be judging Raphael's guests no matter how they looked, smelled, behaved or who was their company. After all, House of Hope was the place where people came when they wanted to be themselves. If they could afford it. So he nodded subtly towards Raphael, drawing his attention to the newcomer.

"Good evening, Enver." Raphael turned around, offering him a firm handshake.

"Evening." Gortash grabbed his hand.

They hugged each other and Raphael slapped Gortash's shoulder. "Please, Enver. Take a seat. Have you ever drunk Mai Tai?"

"I've always been a gin person, to be honest. But I am up to new experiences."

Raphael gestured towards the bartender. He remembered Enver actually being a cheap ale person, so it made him somehow satisfied that he managed to instill little bit of taste into him. If not in a fashion, at least in drinks. Gortash may had all the qualities Raphael liked in people - bright mind, ambitions, vision, sharp tongue and absent conscience if an end called for certain means - but he so desperately lacked the style. Somehow, Gortash always looked like he could use a shower, a trim and a good tailor. With almost parental disapproval, Raphael looked at Enver's jacket with sleeves too long and too wide, but he didn't say anything.

"I've heard Nines had some troubles today." Gortash said while observing the bartender preparing his drink.

"Ah, the rumour has it that tax administration raided our warehouse and seize our goods." Raphael chuckled. "But it shouldn't be much trouble in the end. I believe merely a friendly chat with some of the officers will do the thing. But tell me - have you run into any troubles?"

Tacit understanding appeared in Gortash's eyes. "No." He shook his head. "Everything's just in order."

The bartender placed two Mai Tais in crystal highball glasses in front of them. Geometrical ornaments decorating the glasses may be too uptight for a drink which was supposed to be enjoyed during hot Caribbean nights, but Raphael considered those exotic wooden cups too cheap and too tawdry. And those coconut shells? They will be serving drinks in goddamn coconut shells over his dead body. The only reminder of a summer ease this drink embodied was a slice of pineapple and maraschino cherry on top.

"Good. Let's keep it that way." Raphael's voice was finally a little more optimistic. He rose his glass with a silent smile.

"To no troubles then. Cheers."

Nice surprise that came with the first sip didn't last long. The initial bitterness was quickly replaced with overwhelming sweetness. Gortash curled his lips. "God. This tastes like someone spilled the rum into fruit basket. Did they came up with this while making a pineapple jam?" He swirled the glass. "Waste of a good rum in my opinion."

Raphael laughed. "It's not up to my taste either, I have to admit that, but it is quite popular right now."

"I'll stick with something more bitter. But of course - one has to keep up with the times. I've always admired you aren't afraid of novelties." Gortash said and pushed the drink away.

That piqued Raphael's interest. He has been in this business long enough not to notice there was an intention behind those words. Gortash really waited for the right moment, that much Raphael had to gave him credit for, but there was still little bit of clumsiness in that attempt to shape the course of their conversation. In any event, he was interested what exactly was on Gortash's mind.

"I would rather not age into a rigid old coot." He threw a bait with a convivial smile. "And Harleep really enjoys this, so I will have to keep it on the menu."

"Harleep always knows what's the last hit. I guess she wouldn't like you aging into and old coot too."

"Ha! That is for certain." Raphael took a sip. An image of Harleep with his father came to his mind. It was just as laughable as disgusting. He usually did not think about Mephistopheles in such a context, but what women did he like? And what women did actually like him? He smirked. Whoever his mother was, she must have been either saint or insane. God bless her anyway.

Gortash put a cigarette into his mouth and took a long drag. He twisted a little on his chair so he can see what was going on at the stage. The band just started to play. It was rhythmical, yet relaxed melody he enjoyed. Lively crowd fluently split into pairs that immediately followed the tune. For Gortash, dancing was sort of a status manifestation. A fun for those who were privileged enough to learn it. He wasn't one of those lucky ones, though. His parents were poor shoemakers who feed him debts for dinner and kicked him to the streets once he seemed old enough to survive on his own.

His eyes fell onto a young couple. A girl in tight lilac gown was lightly floating around a boy who focused on his feet rather than his company. She kept swaying her hips wrapped in bold purple satin contrasting with rest of her dress. Long strass necklace traced the curves of her breasts and the gems fell down to her deep cleavage as a waterfall. She was stunning. The boy though, was an ordinary folk not much older than him. He was probably son of someone important - some banker or doctor or maybe a politician, Gortash thought. He hated these guys. Spoiled pricks who never had to move a finger, yet they always got the cream. He liked the idea of some of his men breaking this guy's face. He also liked the idea of his hands at that girl.

The song ended. People gave the band and themselves a clap and left the dance floor for a drink. The couple Gortash has been watching found themselves comfortable back at their table. The boy kissed the girl's hand and she giggled. Gortash rolled his eyes.

"What a lovely rumba, was it not?" Raphael said, tapping off the burnt tobacco.

Gortash nodded. Lovely, indeed. That brat in a fancy suit bought with his dad's money made Gortash's blood boil. But somehow the anger made him a better service than any liquor would.

"You know, Raphael, there is something on my mind for quite some time now." He took his courage.

The laughter, the chatter, the music, heels clicking, glasses ringing - as if all of it disappeared.

Gortash licked his lower lip. "I'd like to discuss some business with you. And I think it will be worth your time."

Raphael didn't say anything. Gortash has had quite some business ideas in the past, but he usually presented them with enthusiasm, rather than caution. But it seemed now that he - whatever it was - had really thought this through.

Raphael held door for Gortash as they entered his office and offered him a seat. The fire poker was lying thrown away on the floor. Raphael picked it up and put it back to the hanger while Gortash found himself a place in leather armchair.

"How's Mephistopheles?" Gortash asked when he noticed Raphael was paying him attention again.

"Enver, it's too late and you promised me this will be worth my time. How do you think someone dying of cancer is?" Raphael crossed his arms and leaned against the desk.

"I thought it will be polite to ask you." Gortash said, drawn back a little.

Raphael smirked. "It will be polite of the don to finally find his peaceful rest, I would say. But lack of manners is what old people share with kids."

Gortash chuckled.

"So, tell me, Enver. What is this business you wished to discuss with me?"

"Well…" He started. "We all know don is going to die sooner or later and we all know that there is no longer much money in booze. I've been thinking you may be interested in changing the course."

"Go on." Raphael said.

"And I don't mean gambling or prostitution. I am talking about narcotics."

Narcotics. Mephistopheles made his name during prohibition. He build everything Canias now had on alcohol and he always said they will be doing narcotics over his dead body. With that he may be right.

"I've recently stumbled across some pricks making a mess around Elfsong and since Alan is paying us for protection, I had to deal with them. It turned out that these boys were cooked on something they bought from those little fuckers running errands for Maladominis. Which means that Maladominis either know shit what their people are doing or they started to sell some stuff themselves. I bet on the second. And I think we shouldn't be giving them a head start."

"Indeed." Raphael reached for clean whiskey glasses. "Do you know where do they got this stuff?"

"No. Not yet. But it doesn't matter in fact. I asked old Bonecloak whether some rumours reached her ears - specifically, regarding Maladominis. She didn't know anything, or so she told me, but since we paid for her husband's medical bills, I assume she wouldn't lie. But she told me about a pharmacist selling leftovers and her own stuff nearby Central Wall.

"A woman who sells drugs?" Raphael poured some whiskey for themselves. "I should tell this to my father. That may finally killed him."

"I bet it would. But - she doesn't just sell them. She brews all her stuff herself. A what is the most intriguing-" He paused. "…It's really good stuff."

Raphael tilted his head a little, contemplating. Then he laughed. "Well, well, Enver. Mephistopheles would shot you on the spot for touching whatever stuff she sells, you know it, right?"

"But you are not him, Raphael." Gortash spilled out. "You see the opportunity, right? You do see it, don't you? It's-" Sudden, creeping fear began to slowly mold his guts.

Raphael laughed again. "But of course I do. I am not the one with cataracts here. Tell me more about her. Does she work for someone already?"

Gortash took a deep breath. "No." He shook his head. "I've spoken to her actually. Her name is Araj Oblodra. Her parents were immigrants. She told me her father was chemist before they fled their country and now she's making it through by working in pharmacy shop and having this little side business. All alone for now."

"Resourceful young lady, than." Raphael admitted and handed him the glass. They clinked.

"Yes, she seems like it. And above that - the idea of having investor - with quite a distribution network - interested her." Gortash grinned. Sparkles of confidence gleamed in his eyes. He was just about to play his trump card. "She also gave me this."

He took few vials filled with glossy, crimson powder out of his jacket and put them on a coffee table in front of him.

"She calls it the Explosion. It's some kind of enhanced amphetamines. She can do this in pills, but she told me it can be either snorted or put under tongue."

"This is what you have tried?" Raphael asked.

"Sure. I wouldn't talk to you otherwise. Amphetamines are the thing nowadays, aren't they? And this is truly something extra."

Raphael took one of the vials, shaking it, observing the content with curiosity. Tiny, powdery, red crystals winked at him with such a teasing allure, inspiring quite some ideas already. Alcohol was stable and certain business. People will always drink and they will always look for places where to do so. But sometimes, drinking is not enough of an indulgence. That was the reason behind his interest in those stag films and the whole new concept we wanted to introduce in the House of Hope. But narcotics? His inner voice taking the form of Mephistopheles's words discouraged him, but…

Gortash stepped into the river of his thoughts. "I can arrange meeting with her, of course. If you'd like this idea, right? But… I was actually thinking-"

Raphael rose his eyebrows.

"-that I could take care of this. Once everything is done with the old man, smuggling arms won't take that much of my time."

Gortash gulped. Minimal but still noticeable movement of his Adam's Apple painted Raphael the greater picture. When did this dirty thug he collected from the streets grow up, Raphael asked himself. He chuckled with something in his voice which he found pathetically sentimental. That little clever bastard.

Raphael put the vial into his jacket and sighed. "I see your point. A good one, though, I must admit. Talk to that pharmacist and check on her. l want to know everything. The last thing I want to do is to take Maladominis' mole under our roof, is that clear?"

Gortash nodded. "It is. I'll make sure she'd be open to our proposal."

"Good. But do not promise anything specific. Not yet."

Roads were almost empty, when Raphael was driving home. City slept under snowy blanket, only few drunks throwing up in the streets and taxis awaiting in front of the other bars were evidence of night life in Baldur's Gate. House he shared with Helen, or Harleep, sort of pseudonym of hers, was located in the Upper City. He refused to live anywhere near his father's house, so he bought a two-stores house with touch of early modernism manifesting in straight lines and simple exterior, and with beautiful winter garden. Given his sunlit childhood, he was sick of that lousy attempt of Tudor-styled houses to persuade others that their owners live somehow regal live in goddamn twenty century. The though of lumber and clay made him disgusted. The only exemption was stained-glass. He liked stained glass. Maybe it was because he used to imagine figures of saints depicted in stained glass church windows come to life, doing something inappropriate, during long and boring masses he attended with Mephistopheles as a child.

He turned the wheel. Spacious street opened in front of him, with all houses dark and silent, except his own. At this point, it shouldn't be such a surprise for him, as Helen somehow managed to turn their home into well-known party place, but he didn't recall she was planning something for tonight.

As he was thinking about it, it wasn't exactly their home. It was his house and his home. She just moved in, sometimes turned the house upside down and so far, he tolerated it. But there was no true them. Helen was fun and her dramatic attitude entertained him and that was it, although she said she loves him. And maybe she did - in he own way - in her own understanding of love. But her idea of love didn't quite matched his own.

He parked the car and threw out his cigarette into the bin in front of house. As he approached the front door, he recognized the raving piano together with the guitar and male voice singing that whole lotta shakin' is goin' on.

He peered on the clock in the kitchen as he was making his way through the house. It was three in the damn morning and it seemed that Helen threw a party solely for herself as there were no signs of guests in the house. No heels scattered around, no couple having fun on the kitchen counter and no one vomiting into the plant pot.

Truly, Helen was dancing on her own in the living room. Record player was roaring, so she wasn't aware of him. Her butt swung wildly from side to side in her sating night gown, both shoulder straps dropped down as she kept waving her arms above her head into the rhythm. Only when she reached for the glass of champagne on the table she noticed him. Playful grin appeared on her face.

She arched her back into a deep bow as she drunk and let the champagne run down her chin, collarbone and chest. Her nightgown soaked wet and the round contours of her breasts and nipples emerged under the thin cloth. Biting her lips, she danced towards Raphael, reaching for his hands. She leaned towards his fingers, stroking her chest against them, but he pushed her towards the sofa almost immediately.

"Wasting no time I see." She giggled and laid down, but to her disappointment, he went to the record player and turned it off.

She sat back. "Oh come on, baby. Don't be such a bore." She rolled her eyes. "You were out the whole evening having fun, now let me have my share, why don't you?"

"I was not having fun, sweetheart, I was working so you can dance and spill the champagne all over yourself."

"I see." She got off the sofa. "But you could work just as hard here, with me, in the bedroom… Or wherever else you'd like, baby." She whispered right to his ear as she hugged him from behind. "But it seems you prefer your tight schedule over my tight pu-"

"Needy thing." He interrupted her. With a sigh he gently shook her off and stepped away. "Accept my sincerest apologies, but no. Not now. It is three in the morning and I am tired."

Wrinkle appeared in her nose as she frowned. "Fine! I guess some bitch has blown you already than!"

She was one of those who confused arguing with foreplay. Sometimes, he played along. Sometimes, it was immensely annoying.

"And I am especially tired for this. Why are you not sleeping anyway? You can choose from three bedrooms and you just decided to ignore them all."

"I can't sleep." She said, annoyed. "Guess it's those wight-loss pills."

"Any particular reason why do you take weight-loss pills?"

"Oh yes, of course. I take them so you can ignore my teeny tiny waist and fuck someone else elsewhere." She hissed.

Raphael didn't know whether it's still some kind of her game or if she means it. But he was too tired to care.

"Do you know what, baby? I am going to bed. Alone. And I do not want to hear a single sound in this house until you remember who is going to pay that gown you ordered at Facemaker." He snapped, throwing the jacket over his shoulder.

"You son of a bitch!"

She has shouted something over him as he was taking the stairs up to the bedroom, but he didn't pay attention to it. His mind was with Gortash's plan and suggestion. Harleep clearly wasn't the only one who wanted to have a share. Yet, her cravings were far easier to satisfy compared to Enver's, who simply sought little something for himself as a favour for his loyalty in upcoming months. Something was telling to Raphael that Canias are going to start with narcotics sooner rather than later, despite it was ice so thin one could feel water bubbling through the cracks with each step.

#fanfiction #raphael baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 #bg3 raphael #alternative universe #astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #raphael x tav #raphael x harleep #araj oblodra #enver gortash #gortash bg3 #house of hope #mephistopheles

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ghoultrifle · 1 year ago

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Did someone say Rain in panties? No? Well I wrote it anyway!

An expansion on Rain's contribution to this post (for those who haven't read it, it mentions rain in panties). Thanks to @v-ternus for asking me to share more, this is probably more than you bargained for! And the biggest thanks I could possibly give to @jimothybarnes for beta-ing this and giving me the courage to post it to the scary internet, you're amazing!!!

Disgustingly wet panty-wearing rain ghoul shenanigans under the cut!

Rain has a catalogue of panty pics on his phone. He's a regular wearer and even more regular photographer. He just can't resist the way they're so tight they leave lingering red lines on his pale hips, how they mark him. He relishes in the knowledge of his dirty, not-so-secret secret. Short skirts that leave nothing to the imagination keep his packmates on edge, hungry. Glazed eyes watching as he sits, squirming under the attention and revelling as the plug he delicately placed earlier hits just the right spot. Rain allows them to pet and to tease, get him riled up, and only then does he take the photos.

Tonight in the dim light of his bedroom he kneels in front of the mirror, one hand cautiously lifting up the sage green skirt mountain gifted him, and the other firmly holding his phone as he brushes up against the sensitive bulge. He hears the familiar click of the camera as he takes a photo, then another one, looking thoroughly wrecked. There is only one rule for these sessions, the panties stay on. He's blushing and leaking, straining against the lilac fabric now turned a deep shade of purple to match his flushed face. Streaks of hair clinging to his sweat-stained face, nipples begging for touch under his mesh crop top, and fingertips teasing the ever growing wet spot. As he tweaks the pebbled mound on his chest, there’s another click but it’s not from his phone. Rain looks toward the door, eyes straining to focus in the candlelight, it’s Aether. He chuckles at the sight of the mess in front of the mirror, “Need some help, princess?”

It doesn't take much, it never does when he's this far gone. Rain’s sat on the edge of the bed with Aether's head barely fitting beneath the skirt alternating between kitten licks to the tip and lascivious strokes over the deep purple material, whispering praises for his slutty princess, "Such a good girl showing yourself off for Daddy, hmm?" Rain can only whimper as feels his orgasm approaching. Aether can feel it building, grabbing Rain's phone and pressing record as he strokes the smaller ghoul’s cock with a burning intensity keeping Rain teetering on the edge until Aether decides he’s ready. The quintessence ghoul uses his mouth to trace every vein while his free hand reaches to press on Rain’s plug, and that’s all he needs. Aether captures the euphoric moment as the water ghoul’s cum beads on the surface in rapid, irregular bursts, slowly dripping down the saturated panties to pool on the larger ghouls outstretched hand. Rain whines as Aether continues to lick him through the underwear, the friction is incredible but quickly becomes too much, and just like that the smaller ghoul is finished.

Rain removes the sodden underwear placing it in Aether's sticky hand and thanks him as one would thank a professional photographer. He makes no mention of the obscene mess he produced nor of Aether's tented pants. As always, Aether slinks off to his room, taking the water ghoul's ruined panties with him. Rain's not stupid, they share a wall and he absolutely gets off again at the debauched sounds of Aether stroking himself with the silky lilac, it’s most of the reason he puts on a show in the first place.

that was meant to be a few sentences but I got carried away whoops. anyway that was my first attempt at writing more than one coherent sentence for a good 5 years so please be nice!

#i've joined the ghoul sex cult #trifle writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #rain ghoul #aether ghoul #aethrain #rain/aether #spicy tag

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phytochorion · 4 months ago

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How the Forest Finds the Island

Chapter Eight - Shoring Up

The rain only got heavier. Although a relief at first, now it presented challenges in its own right.

The creek had swollen from a trickle to a flood, and Sen feared if it rose any higher, it would start denuding the soil the ginkgo saplings were rooted in. He called on his magic once again, flying down each morning to drain and consolidate the sandy loess. It turned out that Askarya was capable of similar magic to his, though subtly different. They accompanied him most mornings, helping him finish the work twice as fast. While he often drew his magic into the soil with his head or breath, they typically used their hands. He saw that they tended to stop and calm their mind, touching their ring finger to their thumb, before starting work.

As the water grew in ferocity, they were grateful to be joined one morning by Si-woo.

"I've been exploring this stream's course," he explained, swooping down and bounding to a stop in front of them mid-sentence, "and if my assessment is correct, we haven't seen the half of what she's capable of. I'll help you firm up your garden, but after that, no amount of magic will hold back the flow. We'd all best prepare."

Sen and Askarya were unnerved by these grim tidings, but tried their best not to show it.

"How long do we have?" Enquired Sen.

"I don't know. A few weeks, maybe."

"Are we likely to lose trees?" Queried Askarya.

"Quite likely, but less so the better we prepare."

"Well," prompted Sen, "let's get our hands dirty."

⸙ ⸙ ⸙

It was hard going. None of them knew too much about earth magic, but Si-woo’s proclivity for water at least gave them some idea of what to expect. Working in tandem, they hauled and rolled the biggest pebbles they could into the garden, arranging them around the saplings’ trunks to provide some defence from the rushing deluge. Sand and leaf litter were patted firmly into the gaps, so that hopefully the water would be slowed and given time to soak into the soil, limiting its erosive potential.

Just over two weeks after they’d started, and having worked almost continuously for that time, Si-woo declared that they had done everything within their power.

He sat back on his haunches, breathing heavily. “Right. Well done, you two. I’m heading home. I wish you the very best, and I’ll see you in the spring.”

Sen and Askarya said their goodbyes, as their friend sprang into the air and was gone.

A westerly wind blew, nipping at exposed flesh. Sen felt the microsporophylls of his crown closing against the bracing breeze.

“What now?” Wondered Askarya.

“Personally, I’m going to lie low. I'd like to keep my wings from abscising again if possible - it feels like they just grew in. The best way to do that is to stay warm.”

“I hear you. I’ll find a nice clump of lichen and cuddle up there when the worst of the storms hit.”

“You, er… I don’t mind if you want to share my nest. It’s probably more sheltered than a cleft in the branch.”

“Really? That’s very kind,” replied Askarya, eyes twinkling.

“Well, we weather together or flourish never, as they say. And the nest is far too big for just one.”

“Si-woo’s taking the scenic route back,” he observed, pointing out the winged silhouette tracking a lazy circle above them.

Askarya squinted. “That’s… not Si-woo.” They raised a hand against the sun’s diminishing glare and were quiet a moment. “Holy shit, that’s a jimmylegs!”

“Seriously?!” Sen copied their gesture and saw for himself. “Goodness, you’re right!”

“A big one too!”

“How’d it get all the way out here?”

“Beats me. Maybe these winds blew it from the next island over?”

“Not to alarm you, but he's coming this way.”

"Do you know anyone who's been eaten by a jimmylegs?" A note of apprehension had crept into Askarya's voice.

"I don't know anyone who's stuck around to find out."

As the creature tucked in its wings and dived, the fairies stumbled backwards, then broke into a full-on sprint in opposite directions. The jimmylegs curved round, heading straight for Askarya. Sen was for a moment terrified for his friend's safety, and changed course to try and catch up with them. The jimmylegs swooped overhead and passed Askarya by. It continued over the flat rock and touched down in the horsetail thickets beyond, catching itself on muscular forelimbs and folding up its membranous legs.

Sen and Askarya came to a stop side by side. The jimmylegs raised its neck and turned its beaky head to them, but after a tense few seconds it lost interest and began nosing about in the undergrowth.

With its rear end held high by its gawky, stilt-like legs, the reptile's head was just above ground level. It sniffed at some decaying stems and started to push them apart. Rapidly, large insects with thorny limbs came rushing from some unseen crevice, nipping at the intruder's face. It drew back, then struck, plucking one of them by its thorax and snapping it up.

With scaly arms, leathery eyelids and a keratinized beak, there were few vulnerable spots for the insects to bite or claw at, and one by one the nest defenders disappeared down the raider's gullet. Sen and Askarya drew closer, intrigued. More insects were joining their nestmates, slightly different in form and colour. Some began to weave silken nets to hinder its movements, and others squirted foul juices from their abdominal glands.

The jimmylegs seemed especially displeased by this last tactic, especially after getting a well-time jet of fluid to the eye. Hissing, it tore free of the sticky snares and made a volte-face.

"Hiya," came a sheepish voice behind Sen, and he and Askarya turned to find Si-woo standing there, scratching his tresses. "So, about my nes- EEIIIWAAYAHH HOLY FUCK," he yelled, as the jimmylegs vaulted skyward, throwing open its great, leathery wingspan above them.

All three threw themselves flat on the ground beneath the grim shadow, and remained there for several minutes as the flap of legs receded into the distance and the insects gradually settled down.

"What- what…," Si-woo looked like he might vomit. "Where did that come from??!"

Sen groaned, rolling onto his back. "You didn't see it from the air?"

"The horsetails were blocking my view or something! Why didn't you tell me there was a jimmylegs?!"

"We didn't know!" Protested Askarya, springing into a crouch. "It turned up the moment you left!"

Si-woo's only response was an incoherent mumbling into the dust as he rolled onto his belly. Sen's chest heaved as his breathing gradually regained some semblance of normality. Presently, he sat up and looked towards where the jimmylegs had been feeding. He wobbled upright and approached, keeping an eye out for the colonial insects. There were none to be seen.

"Hey, take a look at this!" He called, waving to the others.

Askarya came over to join him.

"There's a lot of silk here," Sen indicated. "I'm going to try and grab some. Keep an eye out for those bugs, would you?"

"Uhhh, sure," shrugged Askarya, peering at the nest entrance. "There's a few moving around in there, but they aren't paying any attention to you."

Sen gave a thumbs up, sitting on his haunches and spooling the silk around his arm.

"Hang on, one of those bigger ones is coming this way. You almost done?" Askarya prompted.

"Almost, give me a moment," muttered Sen, grabbing some last strands.

"I think we should move," Askarya suggested, taking him by the shoulders and guiding him back the way they'd come, as the insects emerged from the foliage to follow them, stopping where Sen had been and tasting the ground with their antennae. The fairies turned to check if they'd give chase, but the insects didn't seem interested in straying too far from their colony, and soon turned back.

"C'mon waterboy, up you get," grunted Askarya, picking up the prone Si-woo and putting his arm around their shoulder. He didn't protest, and after a few steps had recovered enough to walk by himself. The three of them arrived at the ginkgo grove on foot.

"Askarya, have you any skill in weaving?" Asked Sen.

"None. I'm an apothecary, not a tailor."

"Si-woo?"

"Wish I could help you."

"Actually, maybe you can. I'm no expert, but I know enough to make some basic garments. I don't want to be in this loincloth when winter hits. If you don't need to get home right away, could you stick around for an hour or three?"

"Er, sure. What should I do?"

"I'll show you."

Sen manoeuvred Si-woo (and Askarya, who was interested to see what he was doing) into position, and showed them how to reel and twist the silk, feeding the raw silk into their waiting hands and winding the finished threads into a neat coil.

As he payed out the silk, he used a continuous, low-level glow of counteracting magic to reduce its stickiness, letting it unwind into single threads. Once it came back into his other hand, he sent forth soft, regular pulses of inter-regulating magic to improve its cohesion without sacrificing flexibility. As he worked in silence, Askarya bantered with Si-woo.

"You said you were gonna hole up in your nest. How come you're back with us?"

"About that," he coughed. "I got back to my nest and found it… flooded."

"Defeated by a little wet, O wise witch of the waters?"

Si-woo inflated his chest and put on an especially rich and profound voice. "My powers, awesome as they may be to behold, are not without limits. When I say flooded," his voice faltered. "Ahem. I mean it was under two feet of water."

"That's not flooded, that's submerged!" Cried Askarya.

"Yes, well, I can hold my breath a long time, but I'm not a fish. I'd prefer to stick out the cold somewhere with air, at least."

"And by that you mean…" Askarya waggled their eyebrows.

"It's alright, you need not ask!" Sen interjected. "You're welcome to stay with me, my trapdoor is always open."

"This'll be cosy," remarked Askarya.

"Finished!" Exclaimed Sen, admiring their completed bale of silk. "The first stage, anyway. You take a break, I can handle step two."

"It's ok, I'm not tired," said Si-woo, waving airly. "Now that I'm over that shock, I'm feeling pretty refreshed."

"Really? I mean, if you could, it'd be extremely helpful. Askarya?"

"Count me in," they grinned.

They scaled Sen's nesting tree and sat on the branch above the papery abode.

"Right, so here's how I do it," explained Sen, demonstrating his technique for weaving the silk around twigs and using them to spin it into a finished creation. With three sets of hands, the work flew by. Si-woo struggled at first to get the hang of it, while Askarya was a quick learner. Neither showed a huge degree of natural flair, but it didn't matter. Sen was happy to be with them.

The final product was a set of baggy pants and a matching shirt with a loose weft, all overlain with a shapeless cloak thrown together from the remaining silk. It was soft, heavy and comfortable. Sen put them on, stepped back and spread his arms.

"Well?"

After a moment's consideration, his friends cracked up laughing.

"You look like a scarebug!" Cackled Si-woo.

"No, you know what he looks like?", commented Askarya. "He's that jimmylegs!"

They howled with laughter, Si-woo bent double and begging them not to remind him.

"You done?", intoned Sen.

"Yeah, sorry," answered Si-woo, wiping his eyes.

"You will be sorry if you don't have something warm soon. I recommend you salvage what you can from your tree."

"Good call. I'll be right back."

While he took to the air, Sen showed Askarya the entrance to the nest. They had a bit of trouble at first, as for a non-flier it was all too easy to fall, but after a few tries they got the hang of sliding down and swinging themselves through the entrance.

"You know, it's my first time seeing this place from the inside, you did a nice job with it."

Sen blushed. "Well, I've made them many times before. Nothing to it, really!"

As they settled down, Si-woo popped his head in. "Hey! Good thing I hung this up to dry!" He proudly displayed a large coat. "I fear the rest of my wardrobe was washed away."

"What a shame," said Askarya, sounding less sarcastic than usual. "I know you liked those dresses."

"Robes," he corrected. "But yes. Guess I truly am down to the clothes on my back. Hmm. Well, I'll treat myself, next time we find someone who can actually work silk."

Sen rolled his eyes, snuggling deeper into the cloak. "Night all. I'm hoping no one here talks in their sleep."

#how the forest finds the island #writing #fantasy #fantasy writing #science fantasy #paleobotany #botany #fairies #gongsun sen #byun si-woo #askarya #magic #gijinka

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spotsupstuff · 2 years ago

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What’s your thoughts on all of the scugs and their campaigns? I’m curious in general, but also wonder about peoples thoughts on the scugs if they dislike the campaign or vice versa

well- i haven't played through all of the scugs yet (haven't touched Riv or Saint at all) so i can't really speak on what i think about the campaigns when it comes to the gameplay itself. ya get me

for Monk: i really like the idea of a really chill campaign even though i don't fucking know why but i managed to have more rage inducing time with Monk than with Surv. i REALLY fuckin love Monk's story though. it's So Fucking Good, i'm such a slut for actions made out of absolute, endless and unquestionable platonic love between siblings (wink wonk at my takes on Moon and Nish). like that one post i wrote about the comparisons between Monk the brother/Surv the sister and Pebbles the brother/Moon the sister? that one line where i was like "he walks across the entire facility grounds of two iterators, dreaming of her, having faith in that she's still around."????? i LOVE IT SO MUCH -punches a wall- imagine you love your sibling so so much that even though they might be dead your faith in their ability to live on is so Fecking Stronk that you are dreaming of them, see them sleep in the corner of a shelter

for Surv: Surv is Surv, it's like trying to live without bread and water. can't say anything negative or really positive about the campaign cuz it's just so intrigated into my head as the Base for everything. just like bread and water, you love and appreciate it silently. can always count on it being there. doesn't mean it gets loved any less just because you don't put the thought of adoration upon it every second. it's just a constant note in the background of your life that offers comfort by its existence

for Hunter: i fucking LOVE... i Have played Hunter only after Spear and Arti though which, as defined by utuber user Ruby Rooz, is cheating (/lh) so i haven't had the same frustrations with the cycle limit like a pre-Downpour player (even though i'm pre-Downpour, i never finished any campaign back then). i had fun just kind of zooming by everything and idk man, NSH is my absolute favorite iterator so everytime i looked at the green neuron i just kind of smiled to myself cuz i kept thinking "he's right here, making the journey with me". Hunter's lore is what first captivated me and made me interested in RW (along with the buddhistic roots of the game's religion)! they introduced us to NSH, explained quite a bit about Moon's current position, what Hunter could mean to Pebbles makes me wanna -Pepe Silvia bit from Always Sunny in Philadelphia-

for Gour: i don't really have much to say about their campaign. i'd put it above Monk gameplay-wise but story-wise underneath them. running around collecting food is nice, i like how it deviates from the previous three in that the iterators basically don't matter at all. the most they matter is eating a neuron and yellin at Pebbles to LET ME OUT LET ME OOOOUUUUUT. it offers a different perspective from what we are used to and i really like when things turn 180° and just walk a completely different path from what is "widely accepted" (honestly a reason why i silently adore Shkika's Innocence so much). in Gour's eyes these godly machines are nothing more than just part of the background. unimportant. just another obsticle. something so important in one part of the world diminished into nothing important. no matter how holy someone thinks a thing is, to someone else it's going to be pointless (and, wonderfully enough, it goes the other way around as well.). Gour's most shining moment story-wise is reached once you think about it deeper and come to realise that what they stand for is a hint of variety of understanding the world. they expand the world very subtly. they make thinking about RW less claustrophobic. other than that i'm just "i just think they are neat" about them. i keep quoting the Ruby Rooz video when i think about Gour too- "who ELSE has the arm of a GOD capable of decimating most of the local fauna with one spear and strongly suggesting to those that it doesn't to promptly LeAVhe." also hot take but the big gamer peeps need to stop bitchin bout the tiredness factor of Gour. good challenge. nice variety. are you allergic to planning? have you not listened to Lyanna Kea, in her skits about Asian moms, telling you to have some Initiative for once in your life? because i am an OVERTHINKER and that one utube short, said in that way of speaking changed my fucking life and now i'm here living to my fullest with the local fatty. jokes on u, speedrunners, i've found joy

for Arti: murder is fun! :) scav tolls are not. :( ability to maim remains superior to everything else in this fuck of a game (affectionate). Garbage Wastes need to be stopped. this is probably my number one fav screen from the entire game (Metropolis kicks ass, the lore reveal in person of at least a Small piece of what it was like to be an Ancient makes me giddy)

for Riv: i recognize a threat to my safety in those eyes. i do not trust them. gameplay experience pending (i'm going to break something while travelling through The Rot, i already know it). the soundtrack Not Your Rain is one of the best fucking things i've ever heard come from a game (high praise) and everything that is happening to Pebbles in Riv's campaign goes right along my morbid angst needs. other than that Riv is also in the "i just think they are neat" category. i wish we could've gotten a clearer hint towards what's up with Riv and what iterator they met

for Spear: the most kickass motherfucker was made by the most fail cringe dumb fuck creature i've ever been forced to bear witness to and i am both perplexed and deeply delighted by this (i wanna square up with Suns so bad i cannot begin to explain how much i wanna kick their ass). Spear's campaign is rn my most fav one because of all the lore drops, so much new canon NSH content, the sheer Worldbuilding, the fact that there's been more iterators shown and that they felt like Normal People... the conversation about SoS betting on lizards, the reveal that NSH was the first one to bring forth slugcats as messangers, the conversations between Secluded Instinct and Wandering Omen are one of my most favorite broadcasts besides NSH's attempts to reach Moon. gameplay-wise, i love that Spear's campaign feels like upgraded Survivor campaign. you are faster now, there's more aggressive enemies, you are on no time limit, you don't have to bother with finding spears, you don't have to bother with Directly Taking A Corpse Into Your Hands and Eating it, you get to eat the fuckin carnivorous plants... -dreamy sigh- what more could one want. the whole lore pearl bringing to Moon was a headache without a stomach storage but that is such a little piece of it that i don't mind. the storyline pearl i could stand because i found it nice that i was forced to adapt to it. Moon's whole superstructure was breath-taking to see and i'm very glad that we got to explore an uninfected iterator while their antigravity and bugzappers didn't work. though it hurt to think about it cuz We Care Moon, i had a lot of fun slugging around her superstructure and using needle ladders to get around- OH YEAH i fuckin LOVE making needle ladders. i also really enjoyed the fact that you can make friends with the scavs like -snaps fingers- this fast thanks to the whole needle production thing. seeing Pebbles get angry like that was awesome. i'll admit that i really admire his anger and this sort of... "justice" seeking (?) he has going on that is heavily influenced by the game's/Ancient's religion. you can fight me on this but Pebbles is the least pathetic character in the entire game besides like Hunter, maybe NSH and Gour. i also got to meet the ugliest scav i've seen in RW so far and i'll prolly never forget the experience because i Just got thru the Underhang to the Wall (my first time going thru Underhang and using the grapple worms, i was dodging having to that for ages) and i was SO pissed and annoyed that i was just about ready to quit the game for that session but then i saw this ugly ass motherfucker just waltzing about and the sheer and sudden Horror and Affront of an Artist i've felt straight up snapped me out of my rage. LIKE GJLKDMKLSD that NEVER happened to me before Suns' design also kinda sorta actually plays into my little silly iterator color coding theory from two years ago which was fun to see! i'll still kick their fuckin ass Garbage Wastes need to be stopped. here are my fav screenies from my Spear playthru

for Saint i'm rn mostly like:

i don't fuckin know what why and how is happening and it feels like such a giant ass steppy from what i had grown used to with the base slugs that even though i'm very stern on myself with being open minded about everything all the time i'm having trouble adjusting to it kgjsalkmklsdgjklsd i don't trust myself with giving a solid verdict until i've beaten Saint myself. i'll prolly talk about it in my "finished the slug!" post when i do get thru 'em

finally rating of the campaigns: Monk - 7/10 Survivor - 8/10 Hunter - 9.5/10 Gourmand - 6.9/10 Artificer - 9/10 Rivulet - TBA Spearmaster - 10/10 Saint - TBA

#Spot says stuff #rw

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arialerendeair · 1 year ago

Note

7 and 15! 💕

Well hello there Stranger!

I already answered 7, so I'm going to pick a random one from one I haven't answered yet!

~!~

3. What’s a fic idea that you have but haven’t written yet?

*glances nervously at the... many... many... many google docs tabs*

TIME FOR ANOTHER LIST!

The Centaur AU (though I'm starting that this weekend)

The OTHER Centaur AU (This one is waiting for a wee bit)

The Pairs Figure Skating AU

Another Fishbowl rescue fic

Another Fishbowl rescue fic #2 (this one is a VERY belated birthday present for @pellaaearien and I WILL have it finished soon!)

Dream & Hob go to a Ren Faire (part of the "The Art Of..." series)

Dream Seduces Hob w/ Swordplay (part of "The Art Of" series)

High Priest Hob

Dream is NOT a Penguin (referencing The Penguin and the Pebble)

Dream Seduces Hob - Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy

Pandora's Box Hope!Hob

The Thirsty Dream fic-series

Hob taking on an aspect of Delight, becoming Curiosity

(This isn't all my AU ideas, just the ones I have open google docs for, lol.)

15. Are there words, phrases, mannerisms or scenes you tend to use a lot?

Oh my fucking HELL yes. (Not that I'm going to remember any of them now that you've asked, of course.)

I write characters smiling/chuckling a lot, simply because that's why I do, so they get to do that as well!

Dirty Talk/Marking Kink/Biting Kink/Praise Kink is a group I will never deny ends up in pretty much EVERY fic I write porn for

Specific words - I know what these are, not sharing, as I will not give all my weaknesses away, lol.

Scenes: I am FOREVER guilty of 'if a character can have a BAMF moment, I will write it' and it just... permeates all of my writing now. This is fiction, characters deserve to be badasses, and I wanna write them!! (Funny enough, I think this is entirely due to, prior to joining the Shadowhunters fandom, I thought I sucked at writing action scenes, so I buckled down, did a bunch of research, declared myself good at them, and never looked back, and now I'm obsessed.)

Ask me a question!

#Aria Posts #Aria Answers #Ask Game

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buglyknight · 2 years ago

Text

336) Fuckin' Sick.

Another sleepless night

I stay awake

Wait for you by the lake

Belly of Brandy

Once a week

Make me creep

Will you touch my hand?

Poke at my chest?

Leave me shirtless?

Soaked by sprinklers?

Fuck you

Fuck me

Give me everything

Take my sleep

I'll get by with blisters on my feet

I walk barefoot to my car

Step on pebbles

Every step is worth it

No matter how much it hurts

I'll tip toe across asphalt

You call me when you're ready

You laugh when I haven't even done anything

I sprint into view and stand beneath the lamppost

I pose

Laughter

Your laughter is sunlight

It's the greatest feeling in the world

To be by your side

You show me your new tattoo

While you tie your shoe on the fire hydrant

You tie your hair up

I stare are you do it, mesmerized

I tuck my laces into my shoes

I whisper to the schizophrenic spiders

I pick up from a bush

You yell at me because you can't hear what I'm saying

Is she on to us?

We almost got her

Quiet down guys she's going to hear you

She's pretty amazing, right?

You tell me I can't talk to them anymore

We try to web you up

Hit your nose ring

We're aiming for your neck like a garrote

We take a walk down to a nearby high school

When I whisper you tell me to yell

So I start yelling the lies I was whispering

You chide me

Don't yell them if they're lies

I have so much fun with you

Making you laugh is wonderful

Until your head is in your hands with giggles

A small bird lands nearby

I say he's just a friendly lil guy

You say he's probably going to die

He isn't flying away

You say the bird and I are the same

Just- not the death part

When I'm 95, we agree to die together

Triple digits only 5 years away?

We can make it.

Let's live for 75 more years together.

I'll love you all the same.

I promise it.

You threaten to push me in the canal

I stand next to the edge daring

You don't

You threaten to push me over in the grass

You couldn't

Obviously, I'm too strong

Impossibly strong, even

You shoulder check me and I fake a tumble

You admonish me laying in the dirt

You brush the leaf off my back

You threaten to walk home

I call the bluff

You turn back

Grab my arm

Unhand me!

But touch me please, grab onto me!

It's all I have ever wanted

You say I'm small

I'M AVERAGE

Just like that frog

Or the bird

Or the tattoo

Or the alligator

Just an average

Good size

A regular size

You are adamant that it's puny

I agree

Don't say 'yeah' like that

We walk back and

hold hands

I am brimming with joy

Someone kill me now

I'll die the happiest man alive

Then we hold pinkies

You point out when I bring you close

I really wasn't meaning to!

But you say it's cool so..

sick

I'm doing it on purpose now, for sure

You say you're about to pass out

I offer to carry you

We rest at the gableblo

I pretend to be an alpha male

WHICH I AM

Of course

I'm tough, I'm cool

I don't s-stammer my words

I know how to pick up chicks

I get mad amounts of babes

Laid on the daily

I have huge muscles

I'm NOT insecure

I strike a pose

Sometimes, you try to copy them

So, you on the menu?

Let's start over.

Want to have sex?

One more time.

I want you inside me

Wait-

Oh, that one's okay?

Laughter

Your joy is contagious

We look at constellations

I finish endlessly trailing thoughts

Accidentally cut you off

You never finish the thought

Tell me what you were saying! I'm sorry!

I was just thinking out loud!

I get real close to your face

Brim of my hat on your head

We stare at each other wordlessly

Try to fit each other into the light

I squash my imaginary spiders

So that you won't walk home just yet

You get closer as I lean against the railing

Even closer as we look at the stars

You say you'd fight me and as I ready up

Spread my arms out wide

You-

Unexpectedly lean in

Oh, God,

Let me live here forever

I wrap my arms around you

Rub your shoulder and back

With the cruel right-hand

I don't think about it

You rub my forearm

My bicep

My elbow

Is this okay?

You say it is

fuckin' cool,

sick.

Someone kill me now, again!

I'll die the happiest man alive

You're rocking your hip into my thigh

I can't tell if it's on purpose or not

You shift and stop

Bend your back slightly

I must admit, I did look a little

I hold you tight

My hand presses against your stomach

You comment how warm it is

How large they are

I ask if it's okay

You say it is

Again I respond

oh, fuckin',

sick

Let me live here forever, like it's the last time

You're going to walk home again

I'm going to walk away again

What a lovely and awful feeling

Always too short

As we leave you

Thank me for loving you

I say 'Yeah, I love you so much'

And

YOU

SAY

BACK

I am brighter than every star

I am as infinite as the universe

I am-

Soaking Wet.

As the sprinklers turn in our direction

You get behind me, trying to pull me away

But only end up using me as a shield

Right after you said that!

You brat!

I get blasted with water

I only want to hug you more

What a beautiful moment

Let it define me, forever

I'll keep you safe from the water

We walk back and hold hands again

I bring you close

You pinch me

That'll be your new thing, you say

We hug twice

I just don't want to let you go

I sigh out my wow's on the walk back

I touch my own skin like it's ethereal

Imagine you touching my face

My heart flutters, I just want to hold you again

What a beautiful world

To exist with you in it

The backlash creeps in quickly

So, I start begging God

Say a prayer to divinity I don't believe in

Isn't he supposed to be love?

Then why can't I have this always?

Say my vows?

Or is he plague and famine?

Or maybe I'm just some

Dumb ape

You call me on the drive back

I read to you when I get home

listen to you rustle as you fall asleep

Make small noises, small movements

I rest my eyes while I listen

Keep alarms blaring in my ears so I stay awake

When you hang up suddenly, I get up

Late for work

Too busy listening to you

Pretending I am there.

#writing #poem #poetry #spilled ink #twcpoetry #poeticstories #so fucking wordy but I still feel like I want more packed in TIGHT packed in there fuckin TIGHT really put all the words i can in there #really seriously just gonna fill it with so many words until i can't use any more on you really just packin it in. classic wordy ass poem #you are so !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#so wordy just shut up!

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