#moonlight in virginia

[mother-lee]

a few of my favorite george inness (1825-1894) paintings

[petaltexturedskies]

your heart requires moonlight

Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West dated 7 October 1928

[mournfulroses]

Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry written in October 1920, featured in The Diary of Virginia Woolf: Vol.2, 1920-1924

[foma-creature]

out looking for the hunter’s moon!

Love the way the Contax Planar 50mm handles this, but not convinced by the ZM 50/2.

The Tamron 300mm is doing great as well. I need to get mine cleaned and adjusted.

At 1.4, the Planar is still outstanding. The coma on these lights in the second is only because of my strange focus point.

Lit entirely by moonlight, I’m really grateful for the Tamron’s perfect sharpness at f/2.8. The first image in this post was also wide open.

Sony A7ii, Tamron 60B (300/2.8), Contax Zeiss Planar 50mm f/1.4

[whalefalllhouse]

[chaoticdesertdweller]

From sunset to night drive, 2023

[theroadgetstough]

My dilated pupils search for something more than light in the darkness, they search for you, they search for you and only you...

In the depths of the ocean, where opacity prevails, you could illuminate the entire sea if you wished. Even if not, you would unconsciously make it the reason for your beautiful sparkle, which before my eyes is compared to the brightness of the waves at the beginning of July, or the brightness of the moon at the end of December...

You are my center, and you don't know it. You are my everything, and you don't know it. Still.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Jupiter by Moonlight: That bright beacon you've seen rising in the east just after sunset is Jupiter. Climbing high in midnight skies, our Solar System's ruling gas giant was at its 2023 opposition, opposite the Sun in planet Earth's sky, on November 2. But only a few days earlier, on October 28, the Moon was at its own opposition. Then both Full Moon and Jupiter could share this telephoto field of view. The celestial scene is composed from two exposures, one long and one short, blended to record bright planet and even brighter Moon during that evening's partial lunar eclipse. Moonlight shining through the thin, high clouds over northern Italy creates the colorful iridescence and lunar corona. Look closely and you'll also spot some of Jupiter's Galilean moons. Image Credit & Copyright: Giorgia Hofer

[Robert Scott Horton]

* * * *

« Night, however, succeeds to night. The winter holds a pack of them in store and deals them equally, evenly, with indefatigable fingers. They lengthen; they darken. Some of them hold aloft clear planets, plates of brightness. The autumn trees, ravaged as they are, take on the flesh of tattered flags kindling in the doom of cool cathedral caves where gold letters on marble pages describe death in battle and how bones bleach and burn far away in Indian sands. The autumn trees gleam in the yellow moonlight, in the light of harvest moons, the light which mellows the energy of labour [...].

The nights now are full of wind and destruction; the trees plunge and bend and their leaves fly helter skelter until the lawn is plastered with them and they lie packed in gutters and choke rain pipes and scatter damp paths. Also the sea tosses itself and breaks itself [...]. Almost it would appear that it is useless in such confusion to ask the night those questions as to what, and why, and wherefore, which tempt the sleeper from his bed to seek an answer. »

— Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

[thanks 'exhaled-spirals']

[virginiawoolfsgf]

i could sit up all night: we might go to moonlight ruins, cafés, dances, plays, junketings: converse for ever; sleep only while the moon covers herself for an instant with a thin veil; and by day traipse the vineyards.

virginia woolf in a letter to vita sackville-west, 8 september 1928

[allin-lightfoot-1981]

For thirty years, a luxury resort hotel in West Virginia played host to the world's wealthiest holidaymakers, all the while covertly moonlighting as the secre - #covertly #holidaymakers #Höst #hotel #luxury #moonlighting #Played #Resort #secre #Virginia #wealthiest #West #Worlds #years

[wordedarchive]

Flowers only, and the moonlight coloured May.

Virginia Woolf, The Waves

[clementinegreye]

safer dreams

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader ||

summary: it's not easy to keep someone safe in your nightmares, something Spencer knows all too well.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: fluff || there was only one bed || brief talks of CM themes (nothing graphic)

Exhaling slowly and processing what she could see in front of her, she let out a small huff of frustration. Her feet ached and her back felt tense from the day. The team had pinned down their current Unsub’s geographical profile which had led them on a tense chase which, had it not been for Spencer’s quick trigger finger, might have ended with her meeting a bullet.

After such an intense case the team had decided to stay the night in a local motel and hit the runway early in the morning. Hotch had insisted, they all needed a night to rest and decompress before they had to go back and meet the paperwork waiting for them in Virginia.

All she wanted was to crawl into bed and rest her muscles. But of course, nothing ever happened that smoothly. There hadn’t been enough rooms for everyone at the motel, meaning everyone had to double up. It wasn’t something they hadn’t done before, and over the phone, the motel owner had promised the rooms all had twin beds.

The day had been exhausting, and now she realised after taking in the room in front of her that she had another problem to deal with.

Spencer let the door shut behind him as he came up behind her. Letting his go bag drop to the floor with a light thud. He flexed his fingers allowing the circulation to come back to where the straps of his bag had cut it off.

‘What’s wron… Oh,’ His own eyes caught the layout of the hotel room and landed on exactly what caused his co-worker’s reaction.

The room was small, the door to the bathroom tucked into the corner to the left of the entrance, there was no room for a desk or table but they’d squeezed in a small two-seater sofa. The burgundy plush carpet radiated the warm glow from the bedside lights and cast the room in a cosy ambience. But there was a problem, clearly just a miscommunication with the booking.

One bed.

‘I’ll go back to the front desk; I swear Hotch told me the motel owner told him earlier that there were twin beds for the team.’ He knew it was simply a case of human error. A case of mixed-up keys and booking information. It really wasn’t a big deal, so why did it feel like such a big deal?

‘Spence, we knew we already had to double up, and they had a no vacancies sign.’ She sighed, allowing her feet to travel across the carpet to the other side of the room. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Maybe they gave us the wrong room, I’m sure they can swap…’ His reasoning was futile, he didn’t need to be a genius to realise there was no negotiating with a no vacancies sign. It was almost like he was trying to talk himself down from a ledge, trying to make sense in his mind the panic he was feeling rising in his chest.

‘It’s almost 2 am. If it was a mistake, I’m sure the couple who have our twin beds are fast asleep.’ She had her back to him, facing the small sofa.

She dropped her own go bag on the blush cushion and stretched her arms above her head. The movement caused her shirt to rise just enough that a sliver of her back hit the light, showing two distinct dimples at the bottom of her spine. The image caught Spencer’s eye. It was an innocent move, but his gaze felt all too intimate. With the proximity of the four walls surrounding them, and the quietness of the room it caused an irregular beat in his heart that he was certain was audible and he snapped his eyes away. He swallowed thickly, glaring at the threadbare curtains shutting out the beams of moonlight.

‘We’re the FBI.’ He spoke almost factually as if the authority of the title could force the hotel to rouse a sleeping couple and get them to move rooms, simply for the convenience of guarding his own feelings.

‘Spence. It’s fine with me if it’s fine with you.’ Her voice was quiet, tiredness lacing its way into her speech. She rubbed a hand up her forearm absentmindedly, and if Spencer was in the right mind to focus on profiling her behaviour, he might have deduced that the action was caused by nerves.

‘If what’s fine?’ He stuttered, his brain not quite working to its usual capacity when he met her tired eyes. She raised an eyebrow, almost annoyed but not quite committed enough to it.

‘The bed. We can share for one night. It’s just one night.’ His eyes held a panicked glint. She wasn’t to know that the problem wasn’t that he was going to have to share a bed with her. The problem was he was worried she’d realise exactly how much he wanted to share a bed with her. His lack of response made her uneasy. Spencer Reid was very rarely lost for words. ‘If you’re uncomfortable I can sleep on the sofa.’

‘It’s tiny, and you almost got shot today…’ He stammered, suddenly regaining control of his runaway thoughts long enough to register the lengthy silence between them. She nodded, almost shyly, and his throat closed as he realised how she’d inferred his words. ‘I’m not uncomfortable, don’t sleep on the sofa. There’s no way I can let you sleep on the sofa. There’s enough room for both of us in the bed.’

There was a pause, a shift within the room as if the atmosphere had moved. A gentle smile crept across her face, and it managed to relax Spencer. The lamplight cast a golden haze across the room and her face looked angelic in the low lighting. A breathy sigh left her lips with the force of an almost chuckle.

They settled into their respective evening routines, turning off their lights in tandem before letting sleep wash over them as gently as the ocean. 

___

Spencer jolted awake after feeling a swift kick to his shin. Panic ripped through his body as his eyes scanned the moonlit room. He couldn’t see any imminent danger and his brain fought through the fog of post-sleep confusion. His senses kicked in and he instinctively reached a hand across the bed in search of her. She was shaking, sighs and almost gasps slipping through her lips at a barely audible volume.

He held his breath while he watched her movements waiting. Her shaking continued, a strangled mix of a moan and a yelp left her throat and her arm shot out searching for something. Spencer’s heart picked up its pace, his brows furrowed in concern. He considered reaching for the light but before his sleep-drenched body could she sobbed, a garbled, purely fearful ‘no’. 

She tossed side to side so violently Spencer thought she might throw herself from the bed. Without overthinking it he sat up and leaned over her. His body halted the thrashing movements and, in her sleep, she grabbed his bicep with wincing firmness.

He held her, with gentleness and enough security that she couldn't throw herself around. One hand went to her hip the other held himself up. Her eyes shot open, sparkling in the darkness with the wetness of un-spilled tears, a scream stuck in her throat, retreating when her eyes recognised Spencer’s soft gaze above her.

‘Hey... Hey, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare. You’re okay.’ He breathed, hovering above her, he moved his hand from her waist to rest it at the side of her head as if to hold her in place and stop her from injuring herself. Her hand gripped his bicep loosely, the thin material of his pyjama shirt soft between the pads of her fingers. Her breathing matched the rapid beat of her heart and Spencer - without thinking - lifted his hand from the pillow to stroke the side of her face.

It was meant to be comforting, to show her that she wasn’t alone. But the gesture, in the cool pooling light of the late hour, seemed entirely too intimate. He watched as her breathing began to slow and her fear slipped out as a quiet whimper, leaving her in the quiet safety of their shared room, their shared bed.

‘I’m here…’ Spencer whispered, his hand lightly tracing the shape of her face. He felt a strange tightness in his chest as he watched her slowly find her way back to reality, her grip on his arm lessening.

His gaze lingered on her face, taking in the softness of her features in the dim light. The silence was deafening, yet comforting, a shared moment of vulnerability and intimacy in the aftermath of her nightmare. "You're safe," he reassured her, his voice barely a whisper in the quiet room.

He could smell her perfume, it mingled with the dusty smell of the motel, sweet and undeniably her. He didn't know how long they stayed like that; the seconds ticked by with no accountability. The moment felt suspended in time, her eyes went from glassy to sparkling in the pale light and he felt her relax under him. He finally pulled away, his hand lingering in the space between them for a moment before he retreated to his side of the bed, the echo of her nightmare still lingering in the quiet room.

It was Spencer’s turn for his heart to hammer in his chest. Her breathing had steadied and she shifted, hand stretching out to find Spencer's in the empty space between them. The reigniting of contact made Spencer's breath hitch in his throat. He turned to face her, but the fear in her eyes was replaced with something else. He didn't have to be a profiler to know what that look meant. It was the same look that haunted his own reflections.

At that moment, under the soft glow of the moonlight spilling through the window, Spencer thought how pretty she looked. Silence spilt between them, she swallowed gently, blinking her eyes rapidly to quell any tears building. 

‘You kept me safe.’ Her voice came out as a whisper, a kind of admission with more behind it than just the nightmare.

Her words hung in the air, a quiet acknowledgement of the intimacy of the moment. He didn’t respond, because for once he didn’t know how to. He didn’t have a statistic or fact to explain how he felt at that moment. Instead, he squeezed her hand gently, a quiet acknowledgement.

‘Do you get them often?’ He whispered, genuine concern lacing through, the warmth seeping from his chest to his fingers where if he focused, he could feel her pulse. He wasn't sure if she'd even want to talk about it.

She paused, her gaze dropping to where their hands were intertwined. 'More often than I'd like.' Her voice was barely more than a whisper, a vulnerability seeping into her words that Spencer had never heard before. He realised just how close they were in that moment. So close he could see the exact shade of her eyes and the way her brow furrowed when she felt she was being too honest. She always seemed so confident, especially at work.

Being vulnerable was not a luxury many could afford in the BAU.

'And what about you, Spencer?' she asked, her gaze meeting his again. 'Do you ever have nightmares?' It was an unexpected question, one that caught him off guard.

'Sometimes,' he admitted, the truth slipping out before he could stop it. Her fingers lightly tightened around his as if bracing for impact. He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of his night terrors.

‘What are they about?’ She breathed, in a hushed way that sounded like she was almost afraid to ask.

‘You.’ His answer was faster and breathier than enunciated. As if that might take away from the confessional impact.

‘You have nightmares about me?’ She took a genuine pause, letting go of his hand and sitting up slightly so she was resting on her elbows looking down at him. He scrunched the duvet up in his now empty palm, holding himself.

‘No! Not about you. I mean, yes about you. About losing you. Like today, I thought I was going to lose you today, and without you, it’d be unbearable. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you like I do in my nightmares.’ His words were a whisper in the stillness of the night. Rambled at his usual speed as if the pace would disguise the weight of the feeling rising in his chest. It was panic, mixed with almost shame.

‘But you kept me safe.’ She stated, reaching out to unfurl his hand from the covers as if taking tension away from him like autumn takes the leaves from trees.

‘I don’t always manage to in my dreams.’ He sighed, looking up at her through his lashes. She was quite beautiful and in that second it scared him how much he cared.

"I guess we'll just have to keep each other safe, then," she murmured, a soft, genuine smile tugging at her lips. She rested a hand on his cheek and he instinctively leaned into her, as agreement settled over his features.

Spencer placed a hand atop hers as it stroked his face with more tenderness than he was sure he’d ever experienced. "I guess we will," he smiled a true and honest smile that happily made a home across his whole face. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, and she lay back down beside him, this time with no space separating them. Their hands fell to their sides, fingers instinctively finding each other and intertwining. The fear and tension of the nightmare had evaporated, leaving the quiet intimacy that the two had just shared.

Sleep began to reclaim them and they both felt safer next to each other just from the knowledge that they’d be there, ready to protect each other from whatever nightmares the future held.

[petaltexturedskies]

Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West dated 7 October 1928

[cvoq]

In Commemoration of Her

Synopsis ﹐ You and James Sunderland are at Lakeview Hotel, planning to stay the night when he unlocks a key memory.

content ﹐Rated R (MDNI), SPOILERS! darkfic, smut, angst, non-con, pwp, descriptive/smut sex, somno, grinding, fingering, squirting, rough sex, p n v sex, james sunderland x fem!reader

╰╮wc 3.3k

Mary was a bright, sweet woman. Illness plagued her body when she was young and died 3 years ago from what you’ve heard. Apparently this “Maria” looked exactly like her, but where was she? You’ve heard so much about Mary this Mary that, that you knew James really did love her; For that reason he and you are at their special place, hotel room 312 looking outside of the illuminated Toluca Lake.

“James,” The name rolls sweetly off your tongue admiring the lakeside view. “It’s beautiful here..”

The cool moonlight hits your skin, reflecting you off the window. You’re wearing a white frilly sundress with spaghetti straps. As soon as you came off of work a few days ago, you took a trip to West Virginia with your bags packed heading to the homey-tourist-attraction; Silent Hill.

James was seeing something completely different. You turned around getting a glimpse to check on him, he previously placed a cassette tape into the TV that the room provided but it was just static. He was engulfed in what he was watching though. You chose to let him be in his thoughts and focus on yours.

As you recall, many strange things have been occurring ever since you came. While following James around, a little girl by the name of Laura tagged along with the two of you. She too was fond of Mary, however not so much of you. All you could remember was the girl's words that she exchanged with you in private while at the bowling alley.

“–James would never replace Mary!” She exclaimed clearly upset, her eyes welled up with tears ready to spill.

“I’m his friend,” You reply quietly trying to give the young girl reassurance. You watch her hold back from crying, feeling guilty. “Nothing will happen between us, everything that I’m doing right now is for her.”

“Rea-lly?” Laura asked, stifling through her words, rubbing her eyes with her hands.

“Really”

If only that were true. You wonder to yourself what the hell you were doing alone with a man in a hotel room during the dark. You really can’t pretend that you weren’t attracted to James. Ever since you’ve met him at the gazebo after wandering in the town for what seemed like hours, you’ve become “travel” buddies.

You choose to snap out of it, turning your attention towards James. He was on the armchair, slouched forward. He looked as if all life had been erased from him. Melancholy, miserable, you felt the feeling emanate with the void of silence.

“James?” You call out, taking a step closer to him on his right side.

“Mary’s,” James muttered with a pause. You pay close attention to what he’s trying to say. “Mary’s gone.”

You stand in silence, watching as James takes time to reflect on himself. You follow his eyes to see that he’s looking at the bed behind him tucked away in the corner with the night lights, staring at the pillows. You knew and took account of how lost and unstable James came off to be, but it never occurred to you how severe it was.

You pressed your lips, speaking softly to him. “Is everything..-Are you doing alright there?”

He stayed still in the same position, still not responding. It pains you to receive silent treatment from him but all you can do is wait for him to open up.

“I killed her,” James tells her with a defeated voice. His head stayed down as he looked at the floor right in front of him, not bothering to look up at you.

Your eyes widen and you respond with nothing. Didn’t he love her? You try to reason that maybe James was imagining things from all the pent up guilt he must have felt, but it really did seem that yes. James killed his late wife.

You’ve never felt more convicted.

“I’m going to wash up..” You say after a minute of pure silence between the two of you and James nods in response. Hopefully a quick shower would drain away all your worries. You promptly leave to the bathroom, leaving James all alone by himself.

For almost an hour, you stood under the shower thinking to yourself. You continued with the regular routine of brushing your teeth, combing your hair, and putting on a fresh pair of clothes which you had thanks to hauling around your suitcase everywhere you went. You felt refreshed that you were in new clothes but felt a dawning sense of pressure and guilt still there. You’re also a bad person if you somehow still manage to like him, a murderer, after all he’s done right?

Finishing your alone time, you swing open the restroom door stepping outside of it. “The bathrooms free for use,” you spoke while looking around the room to spot for James. There he was, on the bed without a blanket on top of him, fast asleep.

James' shoes weren’t even off.. he still had his jacket on, he was knocked unconscious. You scurry to his side of the bed he was occupying. The last you could do was get his shoes off for being able to book a room for the two of you. So you take off both his black leather boots from his feet carefully, trying not to wake him up. After placing them down nearby his bedside you look at his military jacket.

You contemplate if you should change him out of it but you wonder if it would be considered overstepping. You furrow your brows with your eyes lingering in his state. When James slept, you came to notice how his face was definitely more relaxed. His hair fell out of the way he styled it and his crease on his forehead seemed to vanish. He glowed under the warm light of the lamp, but he was a stressed guy.

Sighing to yourself, you move your hands to clasp onto James' jacket. Although you had to maneuver his arms and had to tug a lot, you managed to get it off revealing his gray long sleeved shirt. You place the coat on the nightstand beside you and get ready to tuck him in the sheets when you notice something.

A bulge, a bulge in his jeans. Your face flushes, staring at it for quite some time. Who knows what would’ve happened if you tried to take his pants off? What’s surprising is the size of it. It looked as if it was uncomfortable resting there.. but you just quickly covered James in a blanket.

You wonder where to sleep. The couches only seated one person and the night was cold. Surely, if you slept on the right side of the bed it would be fine. So you chose to climb in the sheets, on the far side facing away from James.

After turning off the lamp, you try to close your eyes but that led to you thinking about what you just saw. You smothered your face into the pillows but can’t help feel your cheeks warm up. You know it’s wrong. James only has love for his wife and you should respect that, so you doze off to sleep.

You wake up in a daze, feeling something press up against you. There’s a weighted feeling lingering on your back. A pair of hands hold your waist and- Shit. Who was doing this?!

Your eyes open slowly to catch a glimpse of your situation. It was James, rutting into you.

He grinded into your ass pressing his hardon into you. Grunting softly into the crevice of your neck that you felt his scratchy stubble rub against you.

What was worse is that you were turned on by this. He was in such close proximity, you could feel the heat emitting off of him. You tightly press your legs together clenching your thighs for dear life, feeling something build up inside of you.

“James..-”

“Help me with this, please..” He begs breathily, pressing you tighter onto himself.

“Al..” You hesitate for a bit. “Alright.”

James reached for your chest, groping onto you. You can feel his rough hands through the fabric, much larger compared to yours. He’s pressing them and messaging them with his palms, running his fingers over your now hardened nipples as you jolt at the sensation.

“I’ve needed this,” He admits grudgingly, taking in your smell. You’re so clean, floral.. so different from him.

You don’t know whether to feel relieved or shameful.

By now your top is ridden up, so James takes his time to place his hands on your stomach to feel your bare skin. You feel so hot, it’s suffocating. His calloused hands slide further to reach your supple breasts. Having you hitch your breath. He takes his time toying with them, squeezing your buds in between his fingers in a firm manner.

“-You’re teasing me..” You manage to utter out, embarrassed.

“Just a few more minutes,” James mutters, still rubbing your skin.

He then moves his hand down into your pajama pants, trailing to your soppy cotton panties. Running a finger up and down your slip, sometimes visiting your clit. You try to suppress your reactions but you can’t help bucking your hips into him.

“You’re -wet there.” James remarks in a quiet tone. It came off as he was flustered or akward, maybe a mix of both. You felt your heat pulse from his words.

“..I want more,” Communicating to him sheepishly. Afraid of seeming whiny and demanding of doing too much while doing too little, you reach your hand back touching his clothed erection. Then pressed your hand on it, trying to feel his girth through his jeans. His warmth emanated off of it.

James groans in response, nodding his head in affirmation. He moved your undergarments to the side revealing your glistening folds, slick from it was still strung onto your panties like a string. He’d blush, admiring how messy you were and rubbed his fingers up and down your hot pussy.

He slid a finger in, watching as you suck it in. Wetness seeped out from you onto his hand as he watched your face contort. You really did put lube to shame..

James worked his way to getting two fingers inside you. You let out soft “ohs” and “ahs!” with a flushed face. Your body felt so hot but your core was even worse, it craved for more and latched onto his fingers as he tried to pull out. Filthy noises spilled from your pussy, embarrassing you from the wet sound you were producing.

He rubbed his pads on the walls of your soaked cunt, noticing you tense up around them as he’s preparing to slide a third finger into you. There James feels a spongy area, feeling it and pressing his fingers on the spot.

“James-!” You yelp, tossing your head up. You feel yourself gush from your pussy, not used to the unfamiliar feeling.

He clenched his jaw feeling himself throbbing with need. The way you said his name was so endearingly erotic. James' pants felt so tight that any friction he felt within his confines almost had him losing it.

You clench around his fingers, gripping his hand placed on your waist as you let out a whimper. However all James does is tighten your grip on you, pressing down on your stomach continuing to fingerfuck you. You bury your face into the pillows as you feel the need to urinate as pressure builds up.

James then stuck another finger in, thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace watching as you go slack in his arms and your hips wiggle trying to escape his grasp. Did you have to be this sexy?

“Auh-Shit!” You moan, coming undone.

Warm clear fluid expels from your cunt as your abdomen tenses up, arching your back like a cat. You're so tight, trying to keep James fingers in as you shudder through your organsm. All that pressure is gone as you begin to feel a tingling sensation across your body.

After a couple of seconds of rest, you hazily look down to see the sheets drenched by you. James looks at his pants, wondering what he just did to you seeing all your essence on him. You squirted.

It took a lot of self control for James to not end up cumming hands free. His dick is pulsating like crazy as he tries to not succumb to the cloud of lust impairing his decisions. It’s too late.

You feel the mattress and sheets shift as you try to come back to your senses as your eyes wander around the hotel room, you see him on top of you.

“I’m sorry, I can't—” James exhaled in a shaky voice while looking down at your body. “Can we.. for tonight..”

You kissed him boldly for the first time, pressing your lips against his somewhat chapped ones. James' eyes widened but he eventually closed his eyes just as you were doing. He relaxed, getting more comfortable with touching you by rubbing your thighs. When James had the chance, he prodded his tongue in your mouth. You and him shared spit and saliva as your wet tongues went back and forth with each other. Messy like a makeout session but more intimate.

You run your hands over his chest, pulling off for fresh air as a string of saliva connects both of your mouths.

“Please,” You plead in a needy tone, looking into James’ green eyes. You toss your soaked panties to the side, spreading your legs apart feeling your slick coat the insides of your thighs. “Take me..”

Quickly, James unzipped his pants, although fumbling and took his cock out from his boxers. James sighed at the feeling of the cold air, giving his dick a few strokes spreading the leaking beads of precum across his shaft.

God, it looked so pretty. All you could focus on was how lengthy it was. He was well groomed too. You’d clench around nothing thinking about that thing being inside you.

You watch as he rubs himself on you, coating him with your slick. You gasp at the feeling of friction whenever he hits your clit and couldn't come to ignore his little grunts of pleasure.

James slid into you, bullying his cock into you halfway. He’d sigh at the feeling of how tight you were around him. Wet walls encapsulating him as he’d groan at how much he’d missed this feeling. You however, felt the stretch as you gripped onto the sheets. Legs shakingly wrapped around his torso.

He continued to bottom out, forcing his way into you. Hearing the audible squelch that came from you and James from doing so. You hissed at sensation, feeling so filled up as you place an arm covering your eyes arching your back.

-And that’s when something happened.

As you were still adjusting to his size, he quickly pulled out and slammed into you.

James' rapid thrust did not stop. His balls hit you each time he went in and out. He was completely infatuated looking at your body, watching your breasts bounce everytime he did that. You easily accepted his cock because of how drenched your little pussy was. He treated you if you were a fleshlight, something to be taken out on.

“Wa-it-! Too -rough!” You wail, not used to the fast pace. Your hips couldn't keep up with the pace as they quivered, having yourself being pounded by this man. Was it supposed to sting this much?

He ignored your request, drinking up the site of you as he let out a suppressed moan. James watched as your expression grew on your face, showing how lewd you were. Gripping you by your waist he fucks yourself onto him as he plunges into you. More focused on the heat of the moment than the lasting consequences.

Skin slapping echoed off the walls of the room. You try to get a hold of yourself, but your body was reacting in different ways. Your sloppy cunt leaked out onto the messy bed sheets, dirtying the vicinity more. You felt your pelvis rub against his, which already got sticky from you. So many moans left your mouth, but you can’t help but wonder what was going on in James' mind for him to be treating you in this way with the little amount of thought you had left.

“Hah..—You’re -driving me crazy,” James’ exhaled in between grunts having a tighter hold on you. He leaned his head down to your chest and latched onto your nipples. Sucking hard onto your tit as if he was expecting you to lactate out of nowhere or something.

Your head rolled back into the pillows, getting so much stimulation as your body jolted from his assault. The way James treated you during sex was like a cheap hooker and you couldn’t help but feel disgusting for loving all of it. Your legs at this point were in the air and about to give up. You just needed more time to experience this, but based off the way there was buildup of pressure in your core, it wouldn’t last too long.

His saliva coated your chest as he managed to hit the same rigid point in your walls. You let out the most salacious sound as you bucked your hips into him, urging James to do it again. Everytime he managed to grind himself against that one spot you’d tense up and clench around him with your gummy walls. All this time he was holding off the urge to release right in you. You were too good for a guy like him.

James had to reciprocate in one way or the other, so he moved one of his hands from your waist, trailing down to your pelvic region. He got his hands lubricated in your hot slick, and began circling your bundle of nerves sending you ablaze. You tighten around him like a vice, feeling yourself gushing all over his cock. He managed to try and go as deep as he could go, as if he was trying to reach your stomach.

Pleasure hit him like a flood. Warm ropes of semen filled you as he groaned, waiting for his load to empty inside of you.

You feel the substance flow into you. Suddenly, realization hits you and began pressing your hands on his chest.

“-James’ pull-out!” You urged quickly, unsure if Plan-B was available around these parts of town. Even so, James wouldn’t budge off of you. He instead gave a few pumps, riding out his orgasm while rubbing your clit, coaxing you to your bliss in which you quickly followed.

“I’m-!” You sob with a hoarse voice. You held onto James’ shoulders for stability reaching your peak. All the buildup crashes down on you as a pulse is sent all the way from your spine, making you bend your back from the mattress. Milky fluid bubbles out of the seams around his cock. You almost get knocked out from how powerful it was. Crashing onto the sheets.

You both stay in silence, catching your expirated breaths trying to regain yourselves. You hear James heavy breathing as he rests on top of you, engulfing you in a hug.

Moonlight shunned through the windows, being the only source of light in the room. You couldn’t make out his face but he clung onto really hard. Your face went cold after the afterglow washed over. James just came inside of you.

You tried to get him off but he was too heavy, his grip increased more. Almost enough to bruise you. You felt warm splotches on your shirt, looking down at James, beginning to apprehend your situation.

“Mary..” He crooned, burying his face into your chest. “Mary..”

authors note ︵ ✦ Didn’t see that much works for Silent Hill 2 so I thought I’d contribute! Interpret the ending however you like, first fic! Once I get my AO3 account, I’ll probably post this..

[asoftepiloguemylove]

pinterest // Richard Siken Anyway // Doyoung & Jungwoo for NCT 127 HIT THE STATES (via 채널 NCT DAILY) // Louise Glück Crossroads // Natalie Diaz Postcolonial Love Poem // 엔하이픈 ENHYPEN 10 Months // Trista Mateer // Moonlight (2016) dir. Barry Jenkins // Virginia Woolf Flush (via @wherepoetsdie) // Sade Andria Zabala Coffee and Cigarettes // 방탄소년단 BTS Trivia 承： Love

[soracities]

would you be willing to share books or poems with your favorite or even pretty writing / prose? thank you 😊

oh Absolutely

books!

A Moth to a Flame, Stig Dagerman

For Two Thousand Years, Mihail Sebastian

The Bloody Chamber, Angela Carter

Her Body and Other Parties, Carmen Maria Machado

The House on Mango Street, Sandra Cisneros

The Waves, Virginia Woolf

Mrs Dalloway, Virginia Woolf

The Sea, John Banville

The Tenderness of Wolves, Stef Penney

Possession, A.S. Byatt

The Memory Police, Yoko Ogawa

The Thirteenth Tale, Diane Setterfield

The Book of Delights, Ross Gay

Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhys

i am lewy, Eoghan Ó Tuairisc

A Tale for the Time Being, Ruth Ozeki

Seiobo There Below, Laszlo Krasznahorkai

The History of Love, Nicole Krauss

The Carpenters Pencil, Manuel Rivas

Books Burn Badly, Manuel Rivas (full disclosure: the language in this book is HARD)

How the Soldier Repairs the Gramophone,  Saša Stanišić

From A to X: A Story in Letters, John Berger

Tess of the d'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy

A Thousand Splendid Suns, Khaled Hosseini

Still Life with Oysters and Lemon, Mark Doty

The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera

Paris, When It's Naked, Etel Adnan

A Ghost in the Throat, Doireann Ní Ghríofa

Four Bare Legs in a Bed: Stories, Helen Simpson

South of the Border, West of the Sun, Haruki Murakami

A Field Guide to Getting Lost, Rebecca Solnit

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, Patrick Süskind

The Things We Don't Do, Andrés Neuman

We Love Glenda So Much and Other Tales, Julio Cortázar

Letters to a Young Poet, Rilke

All We Saw, Anne Michaels (poetry)

Collected Poems of Vasko Popa, Vasko Popa (poetry)

Barefoot Souls, Maram al-Masri (poetry)

Without an Alphabet, Without a Face, Saadi Youssef (poetry)

poems!

"In Spite of Everything, the Stars" by Edward Hirsch

"I Can Tell You a Story" by Chuck Carlise

"The Roses of Saadi" by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore

"The Stare" by Sujata Bhatt

"Stolen Moments" by Kim Addonizio

"Moonlight Sonata" by Yannis Ritsos

"No Title Required" by Wislawa Szymborska

"I Sleep A Lot" by Czeslaw Milosz

"Prayer for the Mutilated World" by sam sax

"Try to Praise the Mutilated World" by Adam Zagajewski

"I Cannot be Known" by Paul Eluard

"The Cinnamon Peeler" by Michael Ondaatje

"Filling Spice Jars as Your Wife" by Kai Coggin

"Persimmons" by Li-Young Lee

"This Room and Everything in It" by Li-Young Lee

"When We With Sappho" by Kenneth Rexroth

"On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous" by Ocean Vuong

"Not Even This" by Ocean Vuong

"Elegy of Fortinbras" by Zbigniew Herbert

"Wedding Poem" by Ross Gay

"Transformations of the Lover" by Adonis

"Cloves" by Saadi Youssef

"Punishment" by Seamus Heaney

"I've Dreamed of You So Much" by Robert Desnos

"Bleecker Street, Summer" by Derek Walcott

"Cave Dwellers" by A. Poulain Jr.

"De Humani Corporis Fabrica" by John Burnside

"The Great Fires" by Jack Gilbert

"The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart" by Jack Gilbert