Summertime and Storms

Writing weird things. Male oc usually inspired by the same person.

[summertimeandstorms]

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[summertimeandstorms]

Didn't want to take a laptop overseas (too much of a hassle at the airport, to care for it's safety) - thought i can take a one week break from writing... Not really xD Travelling always ends up with lots of new scenarios and ideas waiting to be written down, also when you think of something for too long you risk getting bored and never putting it into words. So here i am, sitting in a bar with a couple of drinks, writing continuation of my story on my phone xD

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What is this usual problem, when you have no time to write you’ve got lots of ideas and concepts planned but once you finally manage to get some decent time on your hands your mind suddenly becomes empty :D

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love your writing. dreamy and desirable in ways you write about people, surroundings in detail.

Thank you for your message! I barely get any feedback on my writing so i'm very happy to know someone likes it :D

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(Random something)

With colder weather their apartment got colder as well. Fireplace has started to be used, soft light dancing with the shadows on the walls. Sometimes, straight out of the shower, he would lay on a large fur rug stretched on the wooden floor near their fireplace. His black hair, still damp, clung to his shoulders and collarbones, cheeks flushed from the heat, lips slightly parted, bronze skin glowing softly. She would sit near and slowly massage his small feet, skin on his soles wrinkling when he was moving his toes. He would close his eyes, beautiful curve of the eyelids and straight black lashes that fluttered open once her hands started moving up, lingered on his thighs before staying longer on his lower stomach and hipbones. He would arch his back and gasp when she gently dragged her nails from his armpits down to his inner thighs. He would switch to a more compliant attitude and let her kiss thin, sensitive skin of his groin, move closer and closer, build up the heat, tease him a bit, pleasure him. He would always return the favor.

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I’m quite fascinated with a certain character recently and trying to explore the concept with the similar themes. Think of a two people who became quite bitter and sharp due to certain events/situations, but still remain strong despite experiencing pain (emotionally) - them meeting and interacting can be interesting since there’s potential of them both ruining each other, other people, becoming (deeply) close. How far this bitterness and disappointment (in love, people, ...) can go with remains of hope and understanding/being loyal to moral principles. Being torn between the negative emotions/experiences, thoughts about the higher/deeper sense of events, and, still, purity of heart/intentions. 

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얼마나 좋을까? 꿈이 만약 이뤄지면 너와 함께 할 수 있다면 힘겨운 하루 끝 늘 찾아오는 별처럼 

내가 길을 잃고 헤매면 별이 되어줘 네가 알 수 없는 내일에 별이 돼줄래? 모두들 어딘가 떠나는 밤 너머에 네가 내 친구가 되어줘 별빛이 되어줘

(pic: h.er3)

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(1)

(Prologue)

Tavern was ridiculously crowded. It wasn't surprising considering the time of the year and location of the place. With warm weather came more merchants and travelers, so crossroad villages and towns were buzzing with life. Especially those on the border of the raiders' domain and the hills. Smoke was filling the main hall, lazily moving through the dim light and shadows. As loud and half-drunk as it usually was. Everyone hardly paid attention to new guests, sparing them a glance or two to recognize a familiar face if there was any. He definitely wasn't one. His bronze skin and dirty-brown-beige layered clothes stained with dust and soil, stiffly dried dark spots here and there. Dark shadows smudged around almost black eyes that were partly covered by thick feathery fringe, seemingly long black hair tied messily. He had a sharp, intelligent gaze, corners of thick lips subtly raised into a smirk. Confident were his moves but a trained eye could notice that his center of mass was shifted just a tiny bit into a slightly unnatural point. People were glancing at him nervously but once he settled on a tiny free spot near the bar they focused on something else not to risk anything. Raiders were already enough trouble; though everyone respected them and knew they were fair. The raiders, that is. Since they have settled they were more 'civilized', as it was used to say. People quickly learned those were fine, however the other smaller groups no one really knew much about... Not so. It was better to stay away and not mess with them, unless someone had a death wish. The dangerous ones rarely showed up in these regions anyway. Seeing even just one on this peaceful evening wasn't good news. And news were spreading fast, surprisingly fast, reaching smal towns in scraps that did nothing to show the full picture yet remained the delightful topic of discussions and gossip. People tended to pick those that were entertaining, brushing off the uncomfortable ones, but once something potentially worrying was a shocker it stayed on the tongues nonetheless. It wasn't obvious but she knew that he was listening intently. His forehead was wet with sweat, too much even for the stuffy air of the tavern. His glance stopped briefly on her thumb ring, then shifted to her eyes; lips tightened almost unnoticeably when she pressed her hand to his thigh. Even through the pants she could feel warmth and dull throbbing of an unhealed wound under her palm. He was doing incredibly well at appearing absolutely fine though.

[summertimeandstorms]

[A weird random thing i felt like writing because summer is coming]

Air was finally scented with summer. Warm and fragrant, it gently hugged and teased with light, lazy blows of wind.  Shadows from passing fluff of a few clouds were slowly gliding over the vast field coloured with wild flowers and buzzing with life. They were sitting for some time already yet surprisingly it wasn't boring. He was leaning back a bit, head resting on his shoulder and eyes peacefully closed, eyelids a beautiful curve, left leg crossed under the right one, small bare foot slightly dirty with soil. Skin on his soles wrinkled every time he lazily moved his toes. Black hair tied as messily as always, feathery fringe and strands glued to his bronze skin or getting messed up even more by the wind. He yawned, crinkling his nose, opened his eyes. In dim light they seemed almost black but now were warm brown. He raised his eyebrow and smiled playfully while stretching his neck.

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(Prologue)

A new thing that hopefully will be continued and last a while. 

Spring has finally come. With more sun and warmth everything was slowly waking up. Mid-April was warm yet with a chilly undertone. Fresh, vibrant layer of green hugged the soil and trees, flowers have started to blossom here and there. Ample, clear rains came as well, sometimes accompanied with thunders and lightnings. The small roads in the region were as empty as usual though. Beyond the hills and bright forest lay vast fields, sea of green and colorful wild flowers. Further the soil was drying up, dryer and dryer with each mile, and sand was taking the reigns. Here started the lands of raiders and their people - the newest yet already recognized kingdom. Being among those in charge was challenging and tiring, however organizing everything and watching it thriving was quite rewarding. Several years ago she joined the raiders; a lot came from the same region as her, a lot from east, few from the local tribes. Their group wasn't large from the beginning since they were more of a family or close friends rather than anything else, but it seemed that other raiders and locals were noticing them thanks to their bond and later chose to join them, or offer their support in exchange for help. Those several years had passed and with natural course of events, couple of years ago they settled in the area between the desert and lush greenery of fields.

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At Night;

In my imagination it felt much better and smooth... And it turned a bit different than how i thought it would. About male character, i initially wanted to explain more in a note here but i hope i will write more on this concept.

He waited for her to come home, waited to show, share something with her. Thoughtful, he watched the steam from his fragrant jasmine tea disappear into the night in swirls. She found him on their loggia and he stood up. "I want to show you something." She raised her brow playfully, but he only replied with a mischievous smile and took her hand, "close your eyes", and focused his mind. They opened their eyes to the seemingly same darkness of the night. She looked around and smirked turning back to him. "I knew it was one of these ideas." He laughed quietly. She was standing few meters always from him, her leather shoes sinking a bit into the sand of Saharan dunes. Wind was still warm with a fresh chilly undertone. Air scented with night, dark, dark blue sky peppered with stars. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She guessed she knew what he has wanted to show. Sometimes it was hard to convey feelings and thoughts with words, so it was easier to show, to feel. It was that odd yet calm restlessness, longing and yearning, searching for something... Incredibly hard to describe yet easier to pass with experiences, through experiencing. He briefly watched her gazing into the darkness and then followed her example, peering into the night. When she walked back to him and their eyes met he knew she understood. It was all worth it, what he went through or experienced, to be with a being like her. She was a human yet there was so much more in her... She was a lot like him, actually. Humans used to call it soulmates, that unspoken understanding and communication, that odd bond. Two whole worlds meeting and deciding to travel through life together. The spirits weren't mortal though, and therefore that desire, that wish - that choice - was a much more significant one. His eyes were dark, almost black in night. Beautiful curve of eyelids, full lips of that shade she had no name for, bronze skin. His hair was black and reached past his shoulders, fringe feathery and messy. His body reflected his spirit quite well, after all the shape they take was coming naturally. Her skin was pale, silvery pale in the darkness, soft looks contrasting with sharp gaze. He knew well her scent, the feeling, aura she gave. He knew her. There was odd tension between them, silent communication; and need. To feel more. They already stood close. She held the soft material of his shirt in her hand tightly, his fingers firmly tangled in her hair. Pressed their lips briefly, an awkward experience, breaths mingling. Yet they wanted more, a deeper way to physically feel each other. Before the night ends.

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Smoke;

He let out a puff of greyish smoke into the cold night air, watching it disappearing with a light blow of chilly wind. Clouds moved over the dark blue sky, little shinny stars peppered over the velvety darkness blinking at him, thin crescent of new moon appearing every now and then. It was late autumn, rowans have lost most of their leaves already, only the red berries adorning naked branches like jewels. "I thought you are not supposed to smoke." He quickly and discreetly stubbed the cigarette out against the wide stair he was sitting on. "I smoke only sometimes anyway." "And why do you smoke tonight?" He shrugged. There wasn't any particular reason, he just felt like it. One of those odd days. He could feel the subtle scent of her perfume, woody chypre, hint of black pepper and clove rose. A masculine scent she liked, somehow matching her character despite the soft beauty; the only perfume she used, if she used any at all. Her hair used to keep the scent and, spread out on the pillow at night, tickled his nose. She knew that he smoked sometimes, still it has never become a habit. She never smoked but often joined him on the stairs of the apartment building or in their loggia, especially in late evenings; he smoked in late evenings, or at early night. Like today. His dark brown eyes almost black in dim light, beautiful curve of his eyelids, thick lips a bit dry from changing weather. He glanced at her and smiled gently. He could look sultry and sharp but once he smiled it was genuine and pure. A reminder of who he really was.

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Domestic drabble;

Late September wasn't as hot as the beginning of the month, but when the sun came out from behind the fluffy clouds the warmth was incredibly satisfying. They decided to go for a walk, enjoy the sun and fresh wind, enjoy the peaceful weekend. 

He used to wear very simple clothes yet always looked so attractive. Hair tied into a loose bun, creamy turtleneck sweater, blue jeans and white converses. Sleeves were hugging his thin wrists, skinny jeans, slightly ripped, showed bits of bronze skin and tiny hairs. Converses looked really good on his small feet. For the most part of the walk she wanted to slide her palms beneath the sweater and pull it up, exposing his lean stomach and thin waist. Undo the only button on the jeans, slowly pull down the zipper and touch his lower stomach, inch lower, past the simple tuft of hair just above his private parts. His lips were a bit chapped and the inner part contrasted with the outlines, somehow very intimate and soft. Barely there stubble just under the lower lip and on his chin, tiny bits he always shaved. In the sun she could still notice little pinkish scars on his cheeks under the tinted moisturizer, but maybe just because she knew where to look. Even with the longer hair and his thin, lean body that could sometimes confuse inattentive people he was so obviously male. He was a man. His hands, small, were obviously male, his frame, proportions, adam's apple slightly prominent on his neck, even just the air around him. He was more flexible, he moved better - he was a dancer after all. While looking skinny and thin he was still strong and had incredible stamina - dancing and martial arts when he was younger. Despite the lack of proper practice now he taught her a lot anyway. He knew how to move his hips well too. Both of them were innocent looking, pure and sexual at the same time; sincere smiles and crinkled skin under their eyes, playful dialogs and poking each other, mischievous smirks in the bedroom. Both of them liked to top, bottom, dominate or be submissive - they did whatever they had a mood for at the moment. However at this very moment, watching him stuffing his cheeks with steak and potatoes and absentmindedly picking his nose while chewing and watching a movie, she knew sex had to wait.

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Dark Night

The night was dark. Clouds were moving quite fast, wind strong and chilly, dark yellow, almost orange moon blinking down. Ground was slightly wet, thirsty soil still haven't soaked all of the ample rains. Mid-autumn night air smelled like stale leaves and dried grass. Slouched silhouette was barely visible in the tall rigid stalks against the black of trees and bushes. She knew it was aware of someone watching, closer and closer. Dark eyes and bronze skin, longish black hair messed up by the wind. Moon freed from the running clouds cast a faint light for a brief moment, enough for her to recognize the crimson on its cheek, chin and lips, its mouth a gloomy, crooked crimson wound. She quietly pulled out a small silver knife and it slowly, hesitantly moved back, sharp gaze on the weapon. Wind tousled its hair and what seemed to be the remnants of a shirt, baring its shoulder and collarbone. It licked its thick lips repeatedly, moved back, not standing up yet. Bald, muddy ground it reached made it flinch a bit, exposed its body. Still retreating, mud squelching under it's palms, it dragged its left leg, after few more meters bumped into the tree, knuckles almost white from effort, scratchy bark digging into dirty skin as it tried to pull itself up and put the tree between itself and her. Passing the spot it was crouching on before she made it move away she almost expected to see a dead body, macabre and lifeless wetness of blood and dark ravines of torn off flesh. Apart from the mosaic of dead leaves imprinted into the soil there was nothing. She narrowed her eyes a bit, watching it staring at her from behind the trunk. The distance between them wasn't big, it took her only few strides. She aimed at its right and just like she planned it jerked to the left and fell into the mud, unable to support itself on its wounded leg. Not wasting any time it tried to crawl away, sweeping dirt and fallen leaves with its body. She didn't even have to run, four steps and she pinned it with her weight, immediately restraining its hands. It grunted but didn't try to fight, just lay under her, waiting, watching the knife in her hand with fake indifference. She closed her eyes and focused on him - on the pulse of blood in veins in its wrists, rhythm of its shallow breath, its energy. Then she opened her eyes and sighed. The creature was just a wounded demon. What could have been mistaken for it consuming a dead body was most likely it nursing at its own wound, trying to lick it clean and seal the skin, hence the blood around its mouth. It started to lick its lips repeatedly again, probably an indication of it being nervous. She was almost sure it was male, though she briefly pressed her free hand to its crotch anyway just in case. It flinched at the unexpected touch, inhaled sharply when her fingers brushed over the wound on his thigh, rather deep as far as she could feel. She cut the rope on its wrists and swiftly got up not to risk anything. It didn't move, only lolled its head to see where she was. Jogging to her horse she jumped into the saddle and rode away. It rained the whole next day, cold and piercing. At night it got even stronger and wilder, accompanied by thunders and lightning. At first she brushed it off as yet another angry sound of the storm, but then it got more insistent and regular until the dull thump. Then it stopped; still she cautiously walked to the door and, holding the knife behind her back, yanked it open. Drenched and shaking from cold it lay on the porch, pale lips and face. She doubt it came for any kind of revenge, it was too weak to move so she dragged it inside, threw the blanket over it and picked it up to maneuver it onto the couch. There she sat on the floor and uncovered the wound. It wasn't looking good. At all. It would be a long night.

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Spectrum (2)

One arm around her waist and another one on her shoulder, he watched the beautiful scenery, tried to feel all of it. After yet another night of sleep he felt better, much better, well enough to support himself and not drift into half-conscious daze. Horse was flowing in a calm, steady canter, leaving little clouds of sand and natural dust behind. While the early morning was chilly, almost cold, with the sun gracing blue sky and hiding behind fluffy white clouds from time to time, the air became hot. Pine trees, warmed up by the sun, emitted incredible scent that mixed with the scent of wild flowers and grass. Even the wind, slow and lazy, was warm. Soon the path changed it's course and led them close to the gentle slope of the forest-covered hill they were riding on and he could see a wide field of yellow rape and red splashes of poppies or blue of cornflowers. Shadows of the clouds were slowly walking through the golden field, dimming the colors in chilly irregular spots. Sitting so close to her, his body pressed against hers, he felt her scent all the time - scent of her hair, tied up messily with runaway strands frequently tickling his face, scent of her skin, pale with light peachy hue, light scent of her sweat he could barely feel unless he rested his chin on her shoulder, or pressed his cheek to her neck, tired of twisting his neck to look ahead of them. He noticed he has started to feel more those last few days, he guessed partly because he wasn't exhausted and debauched anymore. At first when she told him just to feel the nature around them as they were riding through the changing area of The Hills, he tried but felt he wasn't doing it right. When he had stopped trying too hard, he started to feel. The whole area was almost vibrating with energy, some places with a calm one, some with vibrant, some with a playful hint. He has been glued to her yet only now he noticed, he felt, that kind of aura of energy around her, and it fascinated him. It was something he knew he would struggle explaining with words, he just felt. He won't be able to tell, but if only possible, he would be able to pass the feeling in a one precise thought. Now that he knew what exactly she meant, he realized that she could feel him that way all the time. Tonight will be the time for more questions, he thought.  

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Spectrum

He limped out of the tent after her, taking in the surroundings. The colors of the deserted land he had seen previously looked washed out, dull, dim. "The weather is changing. We have to go." She helped him to get onto the horse and sat behind him, one hand on his waist, another one on the reins. The horse was flowing in a sea of sand, moving proudly against the warm wind. He still was half conscious, eyes closing every now and then. When he opened them again, he blinked in surprise. Silvery droplets were floating above the thinned carpet of bronze sand, wetting their clothes when they rode past them. The sand was changing in both size and color, paler and paler, until they saw it framing the mirror of a lake in a greyish white. Hoofs made the quiet though vibrant sound against the water, thin layer of it barely reaching the fetlocks. The light was reflecting from the water, hitting them both from the sky and ground, but unlike in the desert where it was burning hot, here it seemed to cast an odd chill, and there were no shadows from it. The Hills. He would have never guessed she would choose this way. Apart from raiders who were rumored to roam through and nearby no one dared to go there. The vast area was stretched from the hills on the outskirts of the town to the seashore according to ones, to the forest according to others, to the mountains to another ones. No one really knew, despite the curiosity no one has tried to check remembering the stories of people who dared but vanished, no one has tried to ask the raiders. He heard the stories of odd things happening, including sudden weather changes and weird creatures, now he had the occasion to experience it on his own skin. He turned his head to look at her, his cheek briefly brushing her chin and lips. She smiled at his questioning expression. "Don't worry. We're safe here." He couldn't understand how but now he could only trust her, and wait for the answers.

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Untitled; 

He glanced at himself in the mirror to check his appearance before going out. This should do. Blue, worn looking jeans, white shirt, japanese-styled jacket... He pulled his longish hair into usual bun, tried to get the messy fringe out of his eyes, instinctively reached to his neck. He was used to wearing a collar but she didn't like that apart from rare occasions, so he has stopped when they started their... relations. To be honest, he was grateful for that. He was was grateful for everything. He was taught a lot of things, he was trained to serve well, and never expect much from his master, so he never did, and at first he was right. It was easier not to expect anything, just live with what he had and do what he had to do. However one day he just got incredibly lucky. He got not only a new master, but also a new home. It took him some time to get used though. At first a bit confusing now it seemed right, to be treated as a friend or partner, not as a servant or slave. He was still doing his job of assisting, driving and keeping company, but it felt like a completely normal thing to do. Like you care for your partner with them caring about you the same way. Sometimes he entertained himself with a thought of that being similar to how typical couples live, except that he was trained in fighting and serving, and they weren't really a couple. "You look good." He only smiled in reply, still sleepy. "Can we grab some coffee on the way?" "Sure. We'll be a bit late anyway." "Thanks." He yawned yet another time, trying to grab car keys with another hand.

He sipped on his coffee greedily before getting into the car, he hated drinking or snacking or doing anything else while driving. He smiled when she took a small sip from his cup. While he liked coffee and could drink a lot, she was oversensitive to caffeine and drank it rarely. On the other hand, while she had incredibly good alcohol tolerance he was getting dizzy and sleepy almost immediately, his cheeks flushed and hot. It made him a perfect driver for any major going out occasions. "Ohh that would be lots of fun," she murmured and he chuckled. He has noticed before that she had very mixed feelings about this whole classmates meeting while several years have passed from graduation. Every time she would nag he would remind her that at least it was in their favorite restaurant with delicious food and drinks. Today the weather was great too, luckily - not too hot, not too cold, sunny but with light, fresh wind. They indeed got late, so when they approached the large table in the garden area everyone focused on them. He realized that they haven't discussed how to explain their relations, and questions surely would appear, especially in a large company with couples among. Food was as great as usual. Most of the time he was listening to everyone's chatting and news exchanges, or slowly eating, prolonging his excuse not to participate in any form of communication. He felt glances and stares, ignoring them or answering with mischievous grin that made his observer lose the interest, or at least pretend to lose it. Later in the evening atmosphere changed to a more lazy, calm one, people talking in small groups or just enjoying their desserts and drinks. Lights near the garden were soft, gently illuminating surroundings and lending golden glow to the grass and trees. He eyed her wine glass, pouting thoughtfully, imagining how nicely sleepy it would make him. He still liked to drink sometimes with her at their apartment, knowing that once he reaches his limit he would be taken care of, hugged and tucked into the blanket. On some days stripped naked and taken carefully and slowly while his cheeks would flush even more. "Wanna drink?" He nodded and took the wine glass from her. "Drink as much as you want, we'll take a taxi." Soon he felt both dizzy and sleepy indeed, and quite hot. With such peaceful surroundings he forgot he wasn't at home and started to take off his shirt, jacket already discarded somewhere on the couch. "Hey, I'm afraid you have to stop now," she said reaching for his hands when he tried to unzip his jeans. He blinked at her, confused, and just leaned on her shoulder. She didn't even try to put his shirt on, instead wrapped her long cardigan around his shoulders and pulled him closer. "I'm sorry. I'm kinda useless right now," he whispered, fighting the drowsiness. "It's okay. You're never useless. Because you are here." He opened his mouth to say something but he had no idea what exactly, so he simply pressed his nose and then lips to her neck, and let the sleep take over his body.