so deliver me from evil 'cause the little things relieve us.

[nightmarist]

WHO: Residents of the Meadows & OPEN to visitors
WHERE: The Meadows outside De Chima
WHEN: Throughout September
WHAT: Day-to-day encounters at the magical farm commune.
WARNINGS: Look to the subject headers.
NOTES: This is a mingle/catch-all log. Start your own threads! Tag around!

The Meadows, being a place largely created from magic, has a subtle strangeness to it. From the outside, it could be taken for any old Appalachian farm: scattered barns and stables, a lakeside castle, a roomy wooden farmhouse, a 19th century stone chapel that some hoodlum graffitied. There's evidence that the farm is home to unsupervised teenagers, too, in the donut tracks that mar the grass and the remains of regular bonfires. As long as the monsters are out of sight, everything seems ordinary.

Once inside the farmhouse, however, the odd discrepancies become more apparent. The layout of the rooms doesn't quite match how the house appeared from the outside. There are windows where windows shouldn't be, stairways like vertical mazes to secluded rooms, and views from rooms that look into other worlds entirely. Half of the appliances work without any source of electricity, fresh coffee's always waiting in the pot without anyone having to brew it, and the refrigerator never seems to run out of leftover pizza. Things are simply wrong about the place, for all the cozy warmth of its design.

Comments

srry srry for older murphy pic but o face

[mofi]

It is effortless, how Ronan moves him. Murphy had been on Ronan's lap but a brief moment later his back his flush against the mattress. And, before Murphy can do anything else, Ronan snaps his hips. Murphy's body jolts with the momentum.

The muscles that line his jaw go slack again. Red, swollen, cupid-bow lips become ajar to a little 'o' that's displayed just for Ronan. Calves bear down at Ronan's hips, locking himself at his ankles.

"Fuck, Murphy gasps. It's too much effort to try and collect words when there's so much stimulus coursing through his entire body. His body jerks with every buck of Ronan's hips. It makes a nice and crisp slapping down when he's driven himself inside of Murphy.

Over and over again.

[nightmarist]

Every detail of this fantasy is designed to maximize Murphy's pleasure. The angle of their bodies is perfectly positioned so that every time Ronan slams into him, he's hitting Murphy at the sweetest spot. He's so tight that there's nothing he can't feel, the drag of Ronan's thick cock working against every constricting muscle. Ronan shivers every time he withdraws and moans every time he dives back in.

Now that Murphy's legs are locked securely around his hips, he allows one hand to slip between their bodies, seizing Murphy's cock. Ronan begins to massage it and stroke it, leaving Murphy wanting for nothing. Everything is for him, and the more pleasure he feels, the more reflects off of him and onto Ronan.

He knows that Murphy doesn't want it to end, but it's going to have to, eventually. Somewhere outside of the dream, Murphy's body is approaching its limit. Ronan picks up the pace gradually, trying to give Murphy as much as he can while there's still time. His other hand takes Murphy by the chin and directs their mouths together for a heated, sloppy kiss.

"You can have more," he promises, somehow uttering the words even though his lips and his tongue are both occupied with Murphy's. "I'll give you anything you want. Always."

[mofi]

Ronan is driving Murphy up to his peak and soon he will be soaring through his orgasm. Murphy whimpers between the moans that Ronan plows out of him. He's drowning in his own bliss. Ronan is giving him more pleasure than he's able to properly process. When they lock lips, Murphy holds Ronan by his cheeks.

"I want -" He shakes out.

And then. And then it happens.

Unfortunately, before a thick stream of cum hits him. Before Ronan has a chance to see stars shooting in Murphy's eyes - Murphy wakes up with a start.

His eyes shoot open, wide and awake. "Fuck," Murphy breathes out, sharp and ragged. The room is empty, just him and the furniture that takes up space in the room. Ronan's gone. He disappeared the moment Murphy had woken up.

Beneath his sheets, Murphy had gotten them messed up. His boxers soaked up most of his cum but it also got into the sheets. Instead of changing anything, since Murphy was much too lazy to do anything else, he strips himself of his cum ridden boxers. It's tossed and Murphy hopes it has fallen where he's put all of his other dirty clothes.

As for the wet spots in his sheets, Murphy just scoots himself at one end of the bed.