#/ Shadow summonings / (PROMPTS) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gilbertscurls · 1 month

Text

Taste ➵ Matt Sturniolo

warnings: SMUT, virgin!matt, softdom!reader, unprotected p in v, heavy on praise and consent, oral!f!receiving, can't tell if it's cringe or not lmao

synopsis: on their first anniversary, y/n and matt finally decide to go all the way.

“I can't believe it's been a year already.” You let out a quiet sigh.

Matt nodded, the thought of their year together bringing a smile to his lips.

“Yeah. It feels like just yesterday we had our first date,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

He remembered every detail of that day, the way you looked, the way he'd been so nervous he felt like he might throw up. But he'd found the courage to ask you out, and you'd said yes. It felt like a dream come true.

Matt's gaze drifted from your face to the room around them. The soft, warm light of the lamp by the bed was casting shadows on the walls, the room cozy and intimate. The silence between them was comfortable, broken only by their soft breathing. Matt couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment, a feeling of being right where he belonged.

“I can't believe how lucky I am,” he murmured, his voice low. “To have you, I mean.”

“I'm the lucky one,” you whispered.

Matt chuckled softly at your words, his fingers still tangled in your hair.

“Oh, please,” he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I'm the one who gets to hold you like this, to call you mine. I think I won the lottery.”

You giggled, a sound that always made Matt's heart skip a beat.

“I can't argue with that,” you conceded. You snuggled closer to him, resting your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “But I get to hold you back, so we're even.”

Matt's hand moved to your back, gently tracing circles on your skin. The feel of you against him, the sound of your voice, was comforting and soothing, but it also stirred a different kind of feeling in him. A feeling of desire and longing.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

He tightened his arm around you, pulling you even closer, his fingers tracing your spine. Matt's heart thrummed with anticipation. The fact that you've never done more than kiss had been on his mind a lot lately. He wanted you, more than he could say. And tonight felt different, special. It was their anniversary, a milestone in their relationship. A part of him ached to take things further, to show you how much he loved you. But his insecurities and anxieties held him back. What if he wasn't good enough? What if he disappointed you? The thought was terrifying.

“Baby,” he finally said, breaking the silence between them. He swallowed hard, his heart beating a little faster. “Can I ask you something?” His voice was nervous, and he was suddenly regretting asking you anything at all.

At his anxious tone, you knitted your brows and turned to face him. “Of course. What is it?”

Matt looked down at you, his thoughts a swirling mess of anxiety and desire. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “It's… It's our anniversary,” he started, his voice a little shaky. “And I was wondering…”

He trailed off, the words failing him. He felt like a complete idiot. He'd never been good with expressing his desires, especially when it came to physical intimacy.

You gazed at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. You could tell he was nervous, and it made you worry. You reached up, gently caressing his cheek. “Yes?” you prompted, your voice gentle and encouraging.

Matt's heart fluttered at your touch, and he took another deep breath, summoning his courage. “I was just… I was thinking…” he mumbled, his words barely more than a whisper. “Tonight, I was hoping we could… Take things further.”

He felt a blush rising up his cheeks, and he quickly looked away, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Are you sure? Like, 100% sure?”

Matt nodded quickly, his heart hammering in his chest. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice trembling slightly. “I'm sure. I've been thinking about it for a while now. I… I want you, baby.”

Saying the words out loud sent a shockwave of adrenaline through him. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and wonderful all at once. But he knew he needed to be honest, to lay it all out on the table.

“I'm just... nervous,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I've never done anything more than kissing, and I don't… I don't know if I'll be any good.”

“It's okay,” you whispered, reaching up to caress his cheek. “But are you sure? I don't want you to do anything you'll regret.”

Matt leaned into your touch, the warmth and tenderness of your hand calming him down a little. But your words also made him pause. Was he sure? He desperately wanted this, wanted you. But his insecurities were still looming, a dark cloud in the back of his mind.

“I'm sure,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “I want this. With you.”

“All right.” You nodded. “How… How far are we talking?”

Matt felt his cheeks flush even more, but he forced himself to keep eye contact with you. He appreciated your directness, and your willingness to talk about this openly.

“I, uh…” he began, his voice still a little shaky. “Everything, I guess. If you want that.”

He swallowed hard, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He hoped he wasn't pressuring you or coming on too strong.

You felt your heart skipping a beat and heat already pooling in your lower abdomen. “I do,” you said softly. “But I want to make sure you're completely comfortable.”

Hearing your confirmation sent a pang of excitement through Matt. He felt a mix of emotions, desire, affection, and a hint of fear. But overruling it all was a deep sense of trust. Your words, your reassurance, it was all he needed.

“I am,” he said, his voice a little steadier now. “I trust you, baby. Completely.”

A small, tender smile crept onto your face. “Okay.” Your voice was so soft, so sweet, so kind. “Do you… Want me to take the lead?”

Matt's heart leaped at your question, a mix of relief and desire coursing through him. The idea of you taking control was both frightening and exciting. He hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I… I want you to take the lead.”

You put one of your hands on his cheek before slowly and gently pressing your lips against his.

Matt's heart skipped a beat at the feel of your lips on his. He'd kissed you countless times before, but this kiss felt different, more intimate. He let out a soft sigh against your mouth, all his anxieties and worries melting away as your touch filled his senses. He brought his own hands up to cup your face, his fingers gently tracing your jaw, his touch soft and reverent.

The kiss deepened, their mouths moving against each other in a slow, languorous dance. Matt could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, the desire for you growing with every passing second. The fear was still there, but it was muffled by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure. He pulled you closer, his hands moving to your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin.

Not stopping the kiss, You moved to straddle his lap, your knees on both sides of his thighs.

Matt felt a shiver run down his spine as you straddled him, your body suddenly so close and so warm. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you even closer, their bodies now pressed together in a way you’ve never been before. The feeling of your weight on his lap ignited a new wave of desire in him, his kisses growing even more intense. He wanted you, desperately.

“You okay?” you mumbled into his lips.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as you spoke, the feeling of your words more like breath than a sound. He couldn't even form a response, his mind completely consumed by your touch and the taste of your lips. He managed a nod, a weak yes whispered against your mouth. He was more than okay. He was on fire.

Matt groaned involuntarily at the feel of your tongue against his lip, the sound more a mixture of pleasure and need than anything else. He immediately parted his lips, granting you access without a second thought. His hands moved to your thighs, his fingers gripping your flesh as he opened his mouth to her.

The kiss grew hungrier, more urgent. Their tongues tangled together, exploring each other without restraint. Matt was lost in the sensation, in the feeling of you in his lap, your body pressed against him. He could hardly think straight, his mind clouded by desire and need. His hips involuntarily bucked slightly, seeking more contact.

“Impatient, huh?” You teased softly, pulling away a little.

Matt let out a low growl of frustration as you pulled away, a mix of desire and irritation in his expression. He was getting so lost in the moment, he was aching for more. Your words, your tease only heightened his need.

“Baby…” he breathed, his voice a mixture of pleading and impatience. “Don't tease me.”

You smiled tenderly before grabbing his both hands and sliding them under your crop top, urging him to take it off.

Matt let out a sharp breath at the feel of your skin under his hands, your top soft and warm. Without hesitation, he moved his hands slowly up your stomach, his fingers exploring the planes of your skin as he helped you pull off your crop top. It fell to the floor, forgotten. His eyes went wide at the sight of your half-naked upper body, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Oh God,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

Matt couldn't have looked away even if he'd wanted to. His eyes were drawn to your chest, his breath hitching at the sight. It was as if his brain was shorting out, his desire for you overwhelming everything else. He felt a mix of awe, arousal, and a hint of nervousness. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly very dry.

“You're… You're so beautiful,” he managed to whisper, his voice thick with want.

You smiled softly, your fingertips tracing his shoulders over the t-shirt. “Can I take it off, baby?”

Matt's muscles twitched under your touch, your words sending a shudder down his spine.

“Yes,” he breathed, his voice a little shaky. “Please.”

He wanted to feel your skin on his, the touch of your fingers on his bare chest. He raised his arms to help you as you tugged his t-shirt over his head, discarding it to the side.

Matt's muscles twitched under your touch, your words sending a shudder down his spine. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice a little shaky. “Please.”

He wanted to feel your skin on his, the touch of your fingers on his bare chest. He raised his arms to help you as you tugged his t-shirt over his head, discarding it to the side.

Once the shirt was off, his chest was now bare, exposed to your touch and gaze. Matt felt a mixture of vulnerability and excitement, his heart beating fast in his chest. He could feel your eyes on him, your fingers tracing soft patterns on his skin. He wanted you, all of you.

“Baby,” he murmured, his voice ragged with need. “Touch me.”

Obediently, You ran your fingertips through his shoulders, to his arms, to his chest. “God, you're so beautiful,” you whispered breathlessly.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as your fingers glided over his skin, your touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. He shivered under your touch, a small moan escaping his lips. Your words, your voice, your touch — it was all almost too much to bear.

“No, you are,” he breathed, his own hands moving to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. "So beautiful. So perfect."

You were doing everything so slowly and gently, knowing that he'd never done anything like that before. You wanted to make it so good for him. Matt was both grateful and frustrated by your slow and gentle pace. Grateful that you were so patient, and so understanding, but frustrated because he just wanted more. He wanted to be consumed by you, to lose himself in your touch. But he knew you were doing it for his sake, to make it easier for him, and that only made him love you more.

“Baby,” he gasped, his voice pleading. “Please. More. I need more.”

You smirked before leaning a little closer to his face. “You want more?”

Matt looked at you, his eyes dark with desire, his expression a mixture of need and pleading.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice a little breathless. “I want more. I want all of you.”

He reached up to you, his hands skimming up your sides, his touch firm and possessive. He wanted to touch you, to feel you, to lose himself in you.

“Please,” he added, his voice a low, desperate plea.

You held his face as you kissed him once again, the kiss sweet and full of emotion.

Matt returned the kiss hungrily, his lips moving against yours with a mix of desperation and affection. He couldn't get close enough to you, his hands roaming over your bare skin, wanting to feel you, to touch you everywhere. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a new, more urgent fervor. He could feel his desire for you growing, overpowering everything else.

“Baby…” he breathed into your mouth. “Please, I… I need you.”

Matt swore, his head falling back on the pillow as you ground your hips with his. The feel of you grinding against him, the friction, the heat, and the pressure — it was almost too much. He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, trying to pull you closer, to increase the contact. A low moan escaped his lips, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Oh God,” he panted, his eyes squeezed shut. “Baby… That feels… That feels so good.”

“You sound so pretty,” you praised breathlessly.

Matt blushed at your words, his heart fluttering at your praise. He let out another soft moan as you rode against him, his body responding instinctively. He was completely lost in the sensation, the feel of your body against his driving him mindless. He tried to form words, to respond, but all that came out was another low groan.

“God… Baby,” he breathed, his hands still holding onto your hips. “Don't… Don't stop.”

His body was on fire, his every nerve alive with desire. He could feel his own hardness growing beneath you, a testament to how much he needed you. His hips canted upward, seeking more contact, wanting to be closer, closer, closer. He opened his eyes, looking up at you, his gaze filled with a mix of want and awe.

“Sweetheart… I… I don't know how much… How much longer I can last,” he whispered, his voice thick with need.

“It's okay, baby,” you cooed, halting your movements.

Matt let out a small, involuntarily whine as you stopped moving, his body protesting the lack of sensation. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire and frustration, but also with a hint of relief. He was so close to the edge, he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.

“I… I thought you would keep going,” he breathed, his voice a combination of disappointment and need.

“Patience, sweetheart,” you teased, your hand running down his chest, from his shoulder to his happy trail, before finally resting on the buckle of his belt.

Matt's breath hitched at your touch, your hand igniting a trail of fire on his skin. He watched as your hand moved down his chest, down his stomach, to the buckle of his belt. A wave of heat washed over him, making his entire body shiver with anticipation.

“Patience,” he echoed, his voice a rough whisper. “You're… You're killing me.”

You gently hooked your finger under the belt. “Can I?”

Matt nodded, his eyes locked on yours, his breathing shallow and ragged. He trusted you completely and wanted you to take whatever you needed from him. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “Do whatever you want. I'm all yours.”

“So good for me,” you praised before expertly unbuckling his belt and tugging his jeans down.

Matt's heart leaped at your praise, a sense of pride and satisfaction filling him. He lifted his hips slightly, helping you pull his jeans down. He was now only in his boxer briefs, the material doing little to conceal his arousal. He was completely exposed, both physically and emotionally, and he could do nothing but lay there and look up at you, his desire for you burning in his gaze.

“Only for you,” he whispered, his voice a quiet admission.

“Already so worked up for me, huh?” you asked breathlessly, a small smile on your face.

Matt blushed at your comment, the heat spreading across his cheeks. He could feel the evidence of his arousal straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs. He was so worked up, so needy, so desperate for your touch. He swallowed hard, his voice husky and raw.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his eyes fixed on yours. “Only for you. I want you so badly, sweetheart.”

You sat back on his lap, caressing his cheek. “You want to try to take off my bra, baby?”

Matt's eyes widened at your suggestion, a mix of excitement and anxiety washing over him. He'd never taken off a bra before, and he was suddenly unsure of himself. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“Yes,” he rasped, his voice betraying his nervousness. “I… I want to try.”

His hands moved to your back, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for the clasp of your bra. He tried to steady his breathing, but his heart was racing, his mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings.

“I… I'll probably be bad at this,” he admitted, his voice a hesitant whisper.

“It's okay,” you assured him softly. “I don't mind.”

Matt nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He fumbled with the clasp for a few seconds, his fingers feeling both clumsy and inadequate. But finally, with a soft click, the bra came undone. The cups fell loose, revealing your bare chest to him. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes wide, his breath caught in his throat.

“Oh… Wow,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and desire.

You smiled a little sheepishly.

Matt's eyes drank you in, every inch of your beautiful skin, every curve and contour. His hands were itching to touch you, to feel your flesh under his fingertips.

“You are… You are so exquisite,” he breathed, his voice filled with a mixture of wonder and admiration. “You take my breath away.”

Noticing his hands twitching, your smile softened. “You can touch me.”

Matt couldn't believe you were actually giving him permission to touch you, to touch this beautiful woman who was willingly sitting on his lap, your body bare for him. He lifted his hands, his fingers hovering slightly above your skin.

“I… I want to,” he breathed, his voice a shaky whisper. He wanted to feel you so badly, but he was also afraid of doing something wrong, of upsetting you in some way. “Are you… Are you sure it's okay?”

“I am. Don't think so much. Just… Feel.”

Matt took a deep breath, allowing the words to sink in. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting go of the nagging thoughts and doubts in his mind. When he opened them again, his gaze was clear, his expression relaxed.

And then he touched you.

His fingers skimmed lightly over your skin, slowly, delicately, exploring the soft planes of your chest. A shiver ran through him as he felt the heat of your flesh, the suppleness of your skin.

“God, you're so soft,” he whispered.

Sensing that he was still holding back, You smiled softly and grabbed his hand, putting it directly on your breast, and gently squeezing his fingers.

Matt gasped, his breath hitching in his throat as your hand guided his. The feeling of your flesh, your breast, under his palm was almost too much. It was so soft, so warm. He could feel your heart beating rapidly under his fingers. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Oh God,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “This… This feels… Incredible.”

His fingers traced a slow, tentative path over your breast, his touch firm but gentle. He could feel your own heart hammering against his palm, a perfect rhythm. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of desire.

“Is… Is this okay?” he breathed, his voice a low, raspy whisper. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“It's okay,” you assured him softly. “I'll tell you if anything. Just… Touch me.”

Matt nodded tightly, the lump in his throat suddenly replaced by a wave of desire and need. He took your words to heart, letting go of any lingering doubt or fear. He allowed himself to really touch you, to move his fingers over your skin, to feel the contours of your body.

His other hand moved up to your other breast, gently kneading it in his palm. “Is… Is this good?” he whispered, his voice almost inaudible over the sound of his own heartbeat. “You feel… So perfect, so soft.”

You let out a shaky breath. “So good.”

Matt felt a sense of power and satisfaction wash over him, emboldening him. He could feel your breath catching in your chest, hear the hitch in your voice. He knew he was doing something right, something that made you feel good. He continued to caress you, his touch becoming more confident, more sure of itself.

His breath felt hot and heavy, his heart hammering against his ribcage. “Can I… Can I kiss these, too?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

You felt a sudden rush of so much love for this boy. “Of course. Anything you want.”

Matt's heart soared at your permission, at the way you were giving yourself to him so completely. You were so wonderful, so understanding. He leaned forward, his lips coming to rest on your breast, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. He was gentle at first, his touch light and tentative. But then he began to kiss you more firmly, more hungrily.

And then, a moan of his name escaped your lips.

Matt's heart leaped at the sound of your moan, the way you said his name. It was like music to his ears. He pulled back slightly, looking up at you with a mixture of awe and desire.

“Did… Did I do something right?” he asked, his voice breathless and shaky. “The way you said my name… It sounded… It sounded like it felt good, like you liked it.”

“You're doing… Incredible,” you whispered breathlessly.

Matt felt a surge of pride and satisfaction coursing through him. He couldn't believe this was actually happening, that he was pleasuring this incredible woman, making you feel this way. But the knowledge that he was pleasing you, making you moan and breathless, only fueled his own desire, his own need for you.

He continued to kiss you, his mouth moving across your chest, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. “More,” he murmured, his voice low and ragged. “Can I… Can I do more?”

“Anything.”

Matt felt a wave of heat and adrenaline wash over him at your word, your permission. Anything? The possibilities, the desires, raced through his mind. He wanted to explore you, to touch you, to make you feel things you'd never felt before.

His mouth moved down your body, his tongue tracing a path down your sternum, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your stomach. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of need. “Can I… Can I taste you?”

You pulled yourself up on your elbows to look at him. He looked so pretty, looking up at you from between your thighs. But it was his first time, and you wanted to make it special do him. “Are you sure? I want it to be about you. You don't have to…”

Matt paused, looking up at you. Your concern for him, your consideration, made his heart swell. He could feel your gaze on him, warm and gentle. He knew you would never force him to do something he wasn't ready for. But he could also feel his own desire burning beneath the surface.

He nodded, his voice steady and sure. “I'm sure,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours. “I… I want to. I want to taste you. I want to please you… If you're okay with that.”

You nodded shakily, before bunching up the fabric of your skirt in your hands, pulling it down and revealing your little lacy panties.

Matt's eyes widened at the sight before him. Your panties were a beautiful lace, delicate and feminine. He could feel his mouth go dry, his heart quickening in his chest. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with an almost reverent awe.

His hands tentatively moved up from your thighs, tracing gentle patterns on your bare skin as they crept closer to your panties. “You're so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice laced with need and desire.

He leaned forward, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. His hands were still tracing feather-light patterns on your thighs, but he was now just millimeters away from your underwear. His heart was hammering, his mind a cacophony of emotions and sensations. “May I… May I touch you there?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

“Please,” you whispered breathlessly, your chest already heaving.

Matt didn't need to be told twice. With a mixture of nerves and confidence, he let his fingers graze across the fabric of your panties, just touching the soft material. He could feel the heat radiating from you, the moisture already seeping through. He swallowed hard, his own body responding to the feel of you.

His gaze flicked up to your eyes momentarily, seeking reassurance, before returning to his task. “Is… Is this right?” he whispered, his voice a little shaky.

“Yes,” you whispered breathlessly. “Perfect.”

Matt felt a rush of relief and satisfaction at your words. He was doing well, making you feel good. He continued to touch you, to move his fingers across the fabric of your panties, feeling the heat and the dampness beneath.

As his touch grew more confident, more assured, he found himself getting more and more excited. His own breathing grew shaky, his heart racing. “Can… Can I do more?” he breathed, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Whatever you want,” you mewled. “I'll tell you if anything.”

Matt's heart fluttered at your response. The trust, the permission, it was almost too good to be true. He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But all he found was love, desire, and a willingness to explore.

He took a breath, trying to steady himself. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice a little shaky. He moved his fingers down to the edge of your panties, toying with the thin strip of fabric. “I… I want to touch you without these in the way…”

He paused, waiting for your permission. He was already so close, already feeling the heat and dampness of your through the thin fabric, but he wouldn't do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire but laced with the need for your approval.

You nodded. “Do whatever you want.”

Matt felt a shudder run through him at your words. Your permission, your trust in him, it was like fuel for the fire that was burning within him. He gently pulled at your panties, guiding them down your legs, discarding them on the floor.

The sight of you, bare and fully exposed to him, was almost too much. His breath caught in his throat, and he had to force himself to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed. His fingers itched to touch you, to feel the smoothness and heat of your skin, but he waited, looking up for your nod of approval.

When you gave it, he moved quickly. His fingers traced a path up your thighs, moving closer and closer to your core. His own breathing was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest, and he struggled to keep his hands from shaking as they got closer and closer to the most intimate part.

His fingers grazed over your skin, feeling the heat radiating off of you. He could feel the wetness there, the evidence of your arousal, and he couldn't help but shudder. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and hungry, his tongue flicking out to moisten his suddenly dry lips.

“You're… You're so wet,” he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips.

Your breath hitched. “Only for you.”

His heart leaped at hearing your words, at the idea that he was the only cause of your arousal. He could feel the power and the responsibility that came with it, and it only stoked the fire within him.

His fingers were now tracing gentle circles around your entrance, his touch light and tentative. He couldn't believe he was doing this, touching you this way. “Can… Can I… Can I put a finger inside?” he asked, his voice shaky.

“Yeah,” you whispered shakily. “Please.”

Matt could feel his breath catch in his chest at your words, at the desire in your voice. His whole body was trembling, almost overwhelmed by the enormity of the moment. He nodded, swallowing hard, his eyes fixed on you.

He gently, carefully, eased a single finger inside, a choked gasp escaping his lips as he felt your warmth and wetness around him. As he moved his finger, You suddenly let out a gasp.

Matt was instantly worried, his finger freezing in place. “Did… Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice full of concern. He looked up at you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

“N-No, it's just…” Your face flushed. “Your fingers are longer than what I'm used to.”

Matt felt a sudden rush of pride at your words, his chest swelling. He had to admit, he'd always been a bit self-conscious about his long thin fingers. But the idea that they were causing her pleasure, that they were giving her a feeling you weren’t used to, that felt incredible.

He curled his finger slightly, exploring your depth. “Is… Is this okay…?”

Your breath hitched as he reached that one spot, and you almost screamed out loud. “Oh my…”

Matt was surprised by your reaction, the sound you made nearly sending him over the edge. But he was determined to make you feel good, to make you feel better than you'd ever felt before.

He kept his finger where it was, gently applying pressure to that one spot, a smirk on his face. “Is this the right spot, hm?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Matt,” you mumbled in pleasure.

Matt couldn't help but smile at your reaction, at the way you responded to his touch. He couldn't believe he was doing this to you, causing you to feel these things. And he couldn't resist the urge to tease you a little bit.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, his voice low and dripping with barely restrained desire.

“Add a second finger,” you instructed him softly. “And try to move them, curling them to hit that spot.”

At your instructions, Matt felt another wave of arousal wash over him. You were telling him what to do. You were guiding him, showing him how to please you. It was a new experience, but one he was more than happy to explore.

He obeyed, slowly adding a second finger to the first. The feeling was tighter, but also warmer. He began to move his fingers, just as you'd told him to.

The angle was a little clumsy at first, but then he felt that one spot, and he applied gentle pressure, curling his fingers at just the right angle. “Like…” he started, his voice a little breathless. “… like this?”

“Oh fuck…” you moaned, your back arching a little in pleasure.

Matt found himself breathing harder at the sight of you arching your back, at the way you were responding to his touch. He knew he was doing something right, and it only fueled his desire to please you more, to make you feel even better.

“Is… Is this good?” he asked, his voice a little shaky. “Does this feel good?”

“So good, fuck, so good…”

Matt's heart was racing, his breath coming in heavy pants. He loved hearing your praise, and the way you reacted to his touch. It was something he'd never felt before, and he wanted more, wanted to make you feel even better.

He kept his fingers moving and applying pressure, his gaze darting up to your face, watching your expressions. “I want you… I want you to feel… To feel so good,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of breathless and earnest.

Your noises of pleasure, your arches, and your moans, it was all driving him wild. He wanted to make you fall apart, to make you forget everything but him and whatever he was doing to you.

“You… You want to try to use your mouth?” you asked breathlessly in between the moans.

Matt's heart quickened at your request. He'd wanted to do that, too, but he hadn't been sure if you'd be okay with it. But now that you'd asked, he was more than happy to comply.

“Yes,” he responded, his voice hoarse with desire. “I… I want to. I want to taste you, too.”

He gently withdrew his fingers and slowly moved further down your body, his heart thudding in his chest. He settled between your legs, looking up at you as his breath came in hot, uneven pants against you.

As he tasted you, as he felt you against his lips, his tongue, his mind was overwhelmed. He hadn't expected this, but it was better than he'd ever imagined. You tasted sweet and tangy, and it only spurred him on.

He forgot about feeling out of his depth, he forgot about potential mistakes or awkward moments. All he wanted to do was pleasure you, to make you feel good. His tongue moved and explored, and his eyes fluttered up at you. He'd never seen you so undone, so lost in pleasure, and the knowledge that he was causing it only deepened his desire to please you more.

“God, you're so good at that,” you breathed out shakily.

Matt felt a wave of pride and pleasure wash over him at your words. He continued, his tongue moving over you, his lips applying gentle suction. Hearing your approval, feeling you respond beneath him, was intoxicating. But he was relentless, determined to bring you to the brink, to make you lose control completely.

His hands moved up, gently caressing your thighs and stomach, seeking to give you even more pleasure. He wanted you to feel good, to feel loved, to feel worshipped.

And eventually, your moans got even louder as you released on his mouth, his name on your lips like a prayer. Matt could feel your body shaking, could hear your voice as you cried out his name. It was a moment he knew he'd never forget, a moment that would be ingrained in his memory forever.

He slowly withdrew, crawling back up beside you. He couldn't seem to find his voice, his heart still hammering in his chest.

He was a little amazed at himself, too, he had to admit. He hadn't been entirely sure what he was doing, but he'd just seemed to know. He'd found a way to bring you pleasure, to send you over the edge, to make you sing his name like a song.

He found his voice again, his voice low, rough. “Was that… Was that good for you? Was I okay?” His heart was still beating fast, his body thrumming with a mix of adrenaline and pleasure.

“God, you're… You're unreal,” you panted out.

Matt couldn't help but smile at your words, the praise fueling his ego. “I… I am?” he asked, unable to hide the slight tone of smugness in his voice. He knew he should feel more humbled, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.

He reached out, gently tracing random patterns on your bare stomach as you caught your breath. “I just… I wanted to make you feel good,” he said softly.

When you came down from your high, you sat up to rest their foreheads against each other. “Are you sure you're ready?”

Matt's heart raced as you asked the question, his mind suddenly flooded with thoughts and worries. Was he ready? He had wanted this, more than anything, but now that the moment was here, he felt a twinge of fear.

He looked into your eyes, searching for reassurance. But all he saw was love, desire, and a willingness to wait if he wasn't ready yet.

He nodded, taking a shaky breath. “Yes,” he murmured. “I'm ready.”

In response, you locked their lips in a passionate kiss, one full of love.

Matt responded eagerly, his body pressing against yours as their mouths met in a passionate kiss. Every thought, every fear, was pushed aside in that moment. All that mattered was you, your breath, your lips, your bodies.

His hands found their way into your hair, tangling in the soft strands, holding you close. He poured all of his feelings, all of his desires into the kiss, his heart hammering in his chest.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as he felt your fingers slide under the waistband of his boxers, the sensation causing a shudder to run through his body. He'd been on edge ever since you'd started, his desire already at a fever pitch. But your touch, your gentle caress, only served to drive him wild.

He pulled back from the kiss to murmur against your mouth. “Please…” he whispered, his voice ragged and pleading. “Please, don't tease me anymore. I can't take it.”

You let out a shaky groan before pulling his boxers down, seeing him fully exposed for the first time. You took a moment to really take him in, your eyes full of awe and love.

Matt's cheeks burned under your gaze, feeling suddenly very exposed and vulnerable. He'd never been looked at this way before, never felt this vulnerable. But he also felt a wave of affection at the awe and love he saw in your eyes.

He met your gaze, his own eyes full of a mixture of desire and trepidation. “Is… Is it okay?” he asked softly, his voice betraying a hint of insecurity.

“You're so beautiful,” you praised breathlessly. “So perfect.”

Matt felt his heart soar at your words, the insecurities fading away and being replaced with a wave of intense love. No one had ever called him beautiful before, and certainly not perfect. He'd always felt a bit too thin, too gangly, too nerdy. But to you, he was beautiful, perfect.

He drew in a shaky breath, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So are you,” he murmured. “Perfect, I mean.”

You reached to gently caress his cheek. “Sit up against the headboard for me.”

At your request, Matt obeyed, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. He felt bare and exposed, but he trusted you and knew that you wouldn't do anything to make him feel uncomfortable.

His gaze met yours, his heart beating fast in his chest. “Like this?” he asked, his voice a little breathless.

“Perfect,” you praised before straddling his lap once again.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as you straddled him, your body pressing against his in all the right places. His hands found your hips, his fingers gently gripping them, as if he needed something to anchor himself.

His eyes roamed over your body, appreciating every curve and contour, before coming back up to meet your gaze. “You… You look amazing,” he breathed, his voice a little huskier than usual.

The corner of your lips went up as you rested your forehead against his, just looking into his eyes for a few moments. You were so close now, the heat and electricity between them palpable. Matt found himself getting lost in your eyes, feeling a sense of calm and understanding wash over him. He could feel your breath against his lips, your body pressed against his, and it was almost too much to bear.

He reached up a hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers feather-light against your skin. “I… I love you,” he whispered, the words coming out almost involuntarily.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, and your eyes reflected just how much.

Matt felt your words wash over him, the depth and sincerity of your love sending a shiver down his spine. He'd always known you loved him, but hearing you say it, seeing it in your eyes… It was as if all his fears and doubts vanished completely.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the words sink in, letting himself bask in your love. Then, his eyes opened again, his gaze intense, and he wrapped his arms more securely around your waist. “Show me,” he whispered. “Show me how much you love me.”

“You ready?” you made sure quietly.

Matt felt a flutter of nerves mix with the desire he was feeling, but he nodded, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter. “Yes,” he breathed in response, his voice a little shaky. “I… I'm ready.”

“If anything… Just tell me, and we can stop,” you promised.

Matt nodded again, appreciating your thoughtfulness. “I will,” he assured you. “But please… Please don't stop unless I say so.”

He drew you closer, his hands sliding up to your back, gently tracing the line of your spine. “I… I want this. I want you,” he murmured, his voice a low, earnest plea.

Matt shivered slightly as your hand moved over his chest, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His heart was beating hard, his breath coming in shaky gasps. He'd never felt this alive before, this on edge, this desperate for your touch.

His eyes tracked your hand as it moved, a small, helpless noise escaping his lips. He knew what was coming, and he was aching for it.

Finally, your hand wrapped around him, giving him a few slow pumps. Your touch was like a spark to a flame, igniting a fire within him that he hadn't known was possible. He groaned, his head falling back against the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut as the sensations washed over him.

His hips involuntarily arched into your touch, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter.

“Oh… Oh God, that feels…” he gasped, his voice choked. “That feels so good,” he managed to stutter out, his words a raw expression of pleasure.

The feeling of your hand on him was overwhelming, unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He could feel his body tensing and relaxing instinctively.

You positioned yourself above him, and you looked him in the eyes as if to ask for one last permission.

Matt's heart thudded in his chest as he looked into your eyes. He knew what was about to happen, and he wanted it, more than anything. He didn't want you to stop, he wanted you, all of you.

He nodded, his voice unsteady as he spoke. “Please,” he whispered, his breath ragged. “Please, don't stop.”

And then, you slowly started to sink down. The sensation was almost too much for Matt. It was like a wave of pleasure and heat overwhelming his entire body. He let out a low, guttural moan as you slowly sank down, inch by agonizing inch.

He clung to you, his hands gripping your hips with an almost bruising force. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips parted as he panted for breath. “Oh… Oh God,” he managed to say, the words a messy, incoherent jumble.

His mind was reeling, every thought driven out by the sheer intensity of the feeling. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, like nothing he could have imagined. You were warm, tight, and completely surrounding him, and it was everything.

He knew he was probably being too rough, too loud, but he couldn't help it. He was utterly lost in the sensations, losing himself in you. He was yours, totally and completely, and he loved every moment.

As you bottomed out, you rested your hands on his shoulders for support. “You okay, baby?”

Matt was trying to form words, to give some sort of response, but all he could manage was a series of ragged breaths and a nod. He was trying to ground himself, to stay in control, but it was nearly impossible.

He managed to open his eyes, his gaze meeting yours. “I… I'm… I'm okay,” he gasped out, his voice thick with pleasure. “Just… Just give me a second, please.”

You felt incredible around him, almost too good. He needed a moment to adjust, to find some sort of equilibrium, or he knew he'd lose himself completely.

He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to steady himself. “You… You feel so… So good," he managed to get out between ragged breaths. He was struggling to find his voice, to express how he was feeling. “Just… Just give me a moment, please…”

“Of course. Take all the time you need,” you whispered, your hand gently caressing his cheek.

Your touch was like a soothing balm on his over-stimulated body. He closed his eyes and leaned into your hand, drawing in a shaky breath. He focused on the feeling of your fingers on his skin, your body surrounding him, anchoring himself to you. Slowly, the overwhelming sensations began to recede, replaced by a calmer, more controlled sense of pleasure.

He opened his eyes again, his gaze meeting yours. “I'm… I'm okay now,” he murmured. “You can... you can move now.”

You leaned in to press your lips against his before slowly starting to move your hips.

The feeling of your lips on his was like a jolt through his system, reigniting the fire that had been momentarily banked. He responded eagerly, his mouth moving against yours, his tongue caressing yours with an urgent need.

And then there was the movement of your hips. It was a gentle, careful circling motion, bringing him closer and closer to oblivion. Matt let out a guttural moan, his hands gripping your hips even tighter.

It was all too much, but he couldn't get enough of it. He felt like he was drowning in you, lost in the sensations of your body, your touch, your scent. He knew he was being loud, almost embarrassingly so, but he couldn't help it. He was completely yours, completely lost in you.

“Does that feel good, baby?” You asked breathlessly.

Matt could barely respond, too lost in the pleasure to string coherent words together. All he could do was nod, his voice choked off by a moan that tore its way from his throat.

He tried to form words, to tell you how good it felt, how incredible you were, but all that came out was a ragged gasp. “Y-yeah,” he managed to stutter out eventually, his voice hoarse. “Feels… Feels so good…”

You pressed their foreheads together before starting to move a little faster, moans escaping your own lips.

The change in speed made Matt's head spin. He felt like he was on the edge of an abyss, his body tensing and coiling with each move of your hips. He was a tangle of sensations, pleasure, need, and love, all swirling together.

He kept his eyes open, locking them with yours. Your moans, your ragged breaths, only amplified the sensations. He knew he was close, too close, but he didn't want it to end.

His hands left your hips, moving up to cradle your face in his hands. He needed to touch you, to feel your skin under his fingers, to hold onto you as he rode the wave of pleasure higher and higher.

“I… I'm close… I'm gonna… Oh God, I'm…”

You understood exactly what he meant, the urgency in his tone clear. Your movements became faster and more purposeful, pushing them both closer to the edge.

“I know, baby,” you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. “I know. Just let go. I've got you.”

Your words sent a shiver down his spine, the mixture of love and reassurance hitting him right in the chest. He wanted to hold on, to make this last as long as possible, but he knew it was impossible. He was on the edge, teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

“Baby…” he gasped, his voice thin and needy. “I… I'm… Oh God, I'm… I'm…”

He couldn't say the words, couldn't form the warning. All he could do was shiver as his body went rigid, waves of pleasure washing over him. He held onto you, his fingers digging into your flesh, as he rode out the aftershocks.

At the sensation of him releasing deep inside of you, you reached your climax as well, your back arching, and you let out a loud cry of his name. He felt you clenching around him, your own release as you cried out his name, and it was too much. He felt like he was being lifted into ecstasy, drowning in the sensations that swamped his body.

His hands moved to wrap around you, holding you close, feeling the tremors run through your body. He buried his face in the curve of your neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Oh God… Oh God…” he managed to say.

“I… I've never… That was…”

He couldn't complete a sentence, his mind reeling from the intensity of it all. He held onto you, feeling the rapid throb of your heartbeat against his chest, the heat of your skin against his, and the sweat that had gathered on both their bodies.

After You finally caught your breath, you looked at him, still straddling him, as you ran your hand through his hair. “Are you okay, baby?”

Matt was still reeling, his body trembling slightly from the force of his orgasm. He leaned into your touch, his eyes meeting yours.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and raw. “I'm… I'm okay. I just… I need a minute. That was… Wow.”

“You were perfect,” you said softly before lifting yourself from him and falling onto the bed next to him.

He chuckled weakly, still struggling to catch his breath. “Perfect, huh? I'm pretty sure I yelled louder than you did. I think the whole neighborhood heard me,” he teased, half-joking and half-not.

You chuckled breathlessly. Matt, however, could only stare in wonder at how his seed was leaking out of you.

Matt couldn't tear his gaze away, his eyes fixed on the sight in front of him. He had never seen anything so intimate, so erotic. Without thinking, he reached out, his fingers tracing the trail of his release dribbling down your skin.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he whispered. “And I… I made a mess of you.”

Your breath hitched as he touched you, still oversensitive, but you didn't protest. He touched you delicately, his touch light and hesitant, as if he was scared to break the fragile moment. His gaze was filled with a mixture of awe and desire, staring at the evidence of what you have just shared.

“You… You look even more beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “Like I've marked you as mine.”

“I am yours,” you whispered.

The words sent a wave of possessiveness through him. “Mine,” he repeated, his voice almost a possessive growl. “All mine.”

He leaned in, pressing feather-light kisses along your jawline, his hands tracing aimless patterns on your skin. “I don't want anyone else seeing you like this," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “I don't want anyone else touching you like I do. You're mine.”

He continued to mark your skin with kisses, his mouth moving along the length of your neck and down to your collarbone. He wanted to keep you like this forever, covered in his marks, in his scent. He knew he was being selfish, but he didn't care. You were his, and he wanted the world to know it.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers tangling into his hair.

The feel of your fingers in his hair only served to make him more possessive. He continued to kiss and nip at your skin, leaving a trail of love bites down your neck and chest.

“Mine,” he repeated, his voice almost a mantra. He wanted to keep saying it, as if by repeating it, he could make it more true. “All mine.”

“So… I take that I made your first time good?” you asked, a little jokingly.

Matt chuckled huskily, leaning back just enough to look into your eyes. “Good is an understatement,” he said, his voice still rough with desire. “That was… Mind-blowing. Life-changing.”

He paused, his gaze roaming over your body again, taking in the sight of you covered in his marks. “I think you ruined me for anyone else.”

“Well, I sure hope so,” you murmured before kissing him again.

He responded immediately, his mouth moving against yours with a desperate, needy hunger. He rolled you onto your back, pinning you beneath him, continuing the kiss with a fervor. He didn't want this moment to end, he wanted to revel in the feeling of your body under his, the taste of your mouth, the scent of your skin.

Between kisses, he managed to mutter, “You're the only one. The only one I'll ever need.”

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re

1K notes · View notes

prythianpages · 4 months

Text

'Cause It Was Always You | Azriel x Reader

summary: After eavesdropping on multiple conversations, Azriel finally gathers the courage to confess his feelings to you, thinking he's on the verge of losing you.

word count: 1,741

warnings: I guess angst at the beginning? But I promise it ends with fluff!

a/n: Billie Eilish's Birds of a Feather has been on repeat in my head and it prompted this cute little idea. Also shoutout to @nocasdatsgay for helping me with a codename for Az.

“I fear I’ll love Lapis until the day that I die…until the light leaves my eyes…until I’m in the grave, rotting awa–”

“y/n, you’re drunk,” Feyre had giggled.

“Drunk in love,” you sang in response with a giggle of your own.

And when one of Azriel’s shadows reported the silly little smile on your face, the silly little sparkle in your eyes, he shrunk back into the ones that had remained. His heart sank to his stomach, a cold, heavy weight settling there.

Because you were in love.

With someone that wasn’t him.

Azriel told himself that was the last time he’d eavesdrop. And perhaps, that wouldn’t have been a lie, if it wasn’t for the pesky little shadow that followed you around. It enjoyed dancing and flitting around you. Sometimes, it’d make its presence known by weaving through your hair or slithering up your arm. Most times, it’d trail behind you, like a little duckling.

Azriel tried to call the shadow back home but it was unwavering, choosing to linger in your presence instead. The same way he wished to linger by your side. And recently, the inky traitor had gotten into the habit of summoning more of his shadows to your side, weaving an invisible bond between you and him.

Every time a shadow returned to him, it brought whispers of your laughter, the sparkle in your eyes, and the softness in your voice when you spoke of Lapis. Each word you uttered about that male tore him apart, every confession cutting deeper than any blade ever could.

“If you don’t ask Lapis out, Jasper will do it for you and believe me when I say you do not want that to happen.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll ask him out. Tomorrow.”

That was a snippet of a conversation his shadows had reported to him earlier, cutting his morning training short. It lingered with him, haunting him throughout the day. And now, he found himself unable to sleep, constantly turning in his bed.

Azriel’s stomach twists into a tight knot, the storm raging outside echoing his inner turmoil. Tomorrow. He was running out of time. Fear and perhaps, even pride, kept him from telling you how he truly felt about you. But now, he found himself fearing something even worse. Losing you before he even had a chance to say it…

He didn’t want to wake up one day and regret his silence, regret not telling you how he felt because of pride or fear. He needed to do this for himself, to break free from the shadows of his past. He had failed to confess his love twice before, and the thought of a third failure was unbearable. This time, he couldn’t let fear hold him back. The risk of losing you to someone else was a pain he couldn't endure.

With a deep breath, Azriel steeled himself. He needed to find you, to tell you the truth about his feelings. Before anything between you and Lapis could blossom. He couldn’t let another moment pass without you knowing how deeply he loved you.

Which is how he found himself at your doorstep, in the middle of the night, clothes sticking to him like a second skin as the rain pours relentlessly down on him. His shadows stir in excitement, whispering anxiously as they hear your approaching footsteps. His heart is pounding, so fast and hard that he fears it’s going to explode.

“Azriel?”

Your voice is still marred by sleep as you blink up at him. That traitorous shadow hovers behind you, peering at him over your shoulder. He glares at it, and it quickly hides behind your hair. You don’t seem to notice it, either unfazed or truly oblivious to the shadow that had been following you around for so long.

“Did something happen?” You speak again, brows furrowing in concern. You step back into your apartment, a silent gesture for him to follow after you and come inside.

“I–” Azriel begins but he can’t bring himself to finish his sentence. He can’t even bring himself to move as his eyes catch the movement of your arms wrapping around yourself to ward off the chill of the downpour. The nightgown you’re wearing is thin and short. A glimpse of your exposed skin has a warmth rushing to his face and he’s blushing.

"I—" He tries again but when his eyes meet yours, his heart leaps into his throat, choking off his words. Oh gods, he can’t do this. He’s grateful for the rain as it masks the tears beginning to sting at his eyes. He thinks he’s going to be sick and–

“Are you okay?”

His shadows push him forward, wings shuddering in response. It’s now or never. He can do this. He takes a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I love you.”

The words spill out in a rush, raw and unguarded. He watches you with bated breath, his shadows whispering every nuance in your expression—from the way your eyebrows raise and your mouth parts as a gasp escapes, to the way your eyes glisten with something he’s too scared to discern.

You’re rendered speechless, the silence that follows feeling like an eternity. Azriel’s wings slump, growing heavy. He clears his throat, averting his gaze. The need to retreat is overpowering what little courage he had gathered moments ago.

“That’s all I had to say. I should, um–I’ll be leaving now,” he stammers, so unsure and so unlike himself.

“Az–” you start, reaching out to him, but he’s already stepping back into the rain. He doesn’t think he can face your rejection, much less witness the look on your face if you don’t feel the same.

“Goodnight.”

His shadows are like a wall of resistance, fighting against him as he turns to make his leave. He asks them—begs them, even– to swallow him whole. To winnow him away and save him from further mortification. But they refuse. Stay, they insist, tugging and weighing his wings down.

It leaves him with no choice but to walk away. Every step feels heavier than the last, the rain soaking him to the bone. Listen, his shadows urge as they continue to tug relentlessly at his wings for him to turn back around and face you.

But he can’t. Not when the Mother has seemed to have cursed him with loving those who could never love him back.

“Azriel!”

His mind screams at him to keep going, to keep walking away. However, the plea echoed in your voice has his chest tightening. His heart overrides his mind, shadows only encouraging him further. He turns around just in time to catch you as you leap into his arms.

Your legs wrap around his waist, arms encircling his neck in a desperate effort to keep him from leaving. His own arms respond immediately, securing you to him.

“Don’t go.”

Your breath is warm against his neck as you tighten your embrace, and his wings curl around your smaller form in response, wanting to shield you from the relentless rain. He feels you shift in his arms, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. One hand reaches out, tenderly brushing the dark fringe from his forehead. His breath catches, and you must sense his inner turmoil because you gently smooth away the furrow of his brow with your thumb.

“I love you,” you say, your hand caressing his cheek. Despite the cold, harsh downpour, your touch is warm and soft. A balm to his frayed nerves.

His heart swells with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. He had prepared himself for rejection, for the familiar sting of unrequited love. But here you were, confessing your love to him with the same vulnerability he had shown you.

“Really?” he whispers, voice thick with emotion, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“Really.”

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he murmurs, his voice trembling with relief. “I thought I’d never have the chance to tell you.”

“Lose me? Azriel, you’ve always had me.”

“But you said you loved Lapis? You were going to ask him out–”

“So you were spying on me!”

Azriel’s eyes widen, cheeks flushing all over again and he’s glad it’s dark enough to conceal it. “No–I–not intentionally…my shadows, they…,” he trails off, realizing how ridiculous he must sound.

Yes, his shadow refused to come back to him. But he didn’t stop the others from reporting back to him so with a defeated sigh, he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Azriel,” you giggle and he’s frowning at you, not finding the humor in the situation. “You are Lapis.”

“What?”

“You’re Lapis. Cas is Jasper and Rhys is Amethyst.” You explain, lips curling into an amused smile at the sigh of relief that comes from Azriel. How had he not realized that all those names shared one thing in common? And more importantly, that they were color coded to his and Cassian’s siphons?

“I needed a codename for you so I can gush about my feelings for you without, you know,” you tilt your head toward that nosey, barely visible shadow that had been following you around. Sensing the attention, the shadow dips and hides again, curling around the back of your neck.

“I fear it’s yours now,” Azriel replies, almost sheepishly.

“Good,” you smile at him. “I’ve grown rather fond of it. Just as I have over its master.”

His shadows take your words as a welcome invitation, swirling and dancing around you both. Azriel’s arms hook underneath your thighs, pulling you even closer to him. Your arms find their place around his neck again.

Then, you're closing the small distance between you and kissing him. Warmth spreads throughout him, reveling in the sweet sensation of your lips against his. The rain continues to pour, but neither of you care.

When you finally pull away, he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed as if in fear that this is all just a dream. You gently kiss his nose, your soft voice reminding him that this moment is real.

“I love you.”

Azriel’s eyes open, looking right into yours. “Until the day that I die,” he tells you, echoing your devotion.

There’s a knowing spark in your eyes as they search his own for answers. It has his lips lifting into a smile that mirrors yours, confirming that he had been eavesdropping on your drunken confession weeks ago. Your smile widens.

“Until the light leaves my eyes.”

This was a better idea in my head but hey, at least I finished it. I also don't know the logistics of having a conversation in the rain but that's the beauty of fanfic, I guess?lol Anyway, I could not get these lyrics out of my head. They were so Azriel coded for me:

I'll love you 'til the day that I die 'Til the day that I die 'Til the light leaves my eyes 'Til the day that I die I want you to see, hm How you look to me, hm You wouldn't believe if I told ya You would keep the compliments I throw ya

the way I keep fixing these lyrics but I think tumblr is glitching or something uggghh, pls ignore the random mismatched sizing

Also just wanted to point out that if Az hasn’t confessed, reader would’ve done it the next day anyway 💀

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel fluff

2K notes · View notes

theplotmage · 15 days

Text

50 Fantasy Prompts: Cultures and Societies. Writers Save this!

1. Luminae

- A society that worships light and revolves around bioluminescent creatures.

- Gesture: Raising both hands to the sky and opening palms to signify receiving light.

- View: Light is considered the purest form of energy and the ultimate source of life.

2. Mistral Nomads

- Wind travelers who harness the power of the breeze for navigation and communication.

- Gesture: Whispering into a small vial and releasing it into the wind, symbolizing sending a message.

- View: The wind carries the voices of ancestors and guides the living.

3. Veilwalkers

- Inhabitants of the mist who can see and manipulate spirits.

- Gesture: Drawing a veil across the face to communicate with spirits.

- View: The world of the living and the dead are separated by a thin veil that can be crossed.

4. Starforged

- People born under specific constellations with unique abilities tied to their birth star.

- Gesture: Touching a constellation tattoo to activate its power.

- View: Stars are the eyes of the gods, watching over and guiding them.

5. Shadecloaks

- Masters of shadow magic, living in perpetual twilight.

- Gesture: Merging fingers into the shadows, symbolizing blending into the darkness.

- View: Shadows are protective, hiding them from danger and giving them strength.

6. Seraphians

- Winged beings who consider themselves guardians of the skies.

- Gesture: Unfurling wings in a greeting, showing trust and openness.

- View: The skies are sacred, and flight is a divine gift.

7. Pyrosages

- Fire-wielders who live in harmony with volcanic landscapes.

- Gesture: Holding a flame in one hand while placing the other hand over the heart, symbolizing passion and life.

- View: Fire is a cleansing force, both destructive and renewing.

8. Aquafolk

- Ocean dwellers with the ability to breathe underwater and communicate with marine life.

- Gesture: Creating ripples in water with a fingertip to convey emotions.

- View: Water is a mirror of the soul, reflecting true feelings and intentions.

9. Silvan Elves

- Forest guardians who blend seamlessly with their environment.

- Gesture: Touching foreheads with a leaf, symbolizing unity with nature.

- View: All life is interconnected through the roots of the great tree.

10. Necrochanters

- A culture deeply connected to the afterlife, able to communicate with and summon spirits.

- Gesture: Drawing a circle with ashes to summon spirits.

- View: Death is not the end but a transformation to another state of being.

11. Stonekin

- Rock-like beings who can manipulate earth and stone.

- Gesture: Pressing a hand to the ground to communicate with the earth.

- View: The earth holds ancient wisdom and the memories of their ancestors.

12. Aetherians

- Masters of air magic, capable of floating and flying at will.

- Gesture: Raising arms and fingers to mimic the flow of air currents.

- View: The air is filled with invisible threads that connect all living beings.

13. Chronomancers

- Time-benders who can manipulate past, present, and future.

- Gesture: Tapping a timepiece rhythmically to alter time flow.

- View: Time is fluid and can be molded to fit the needs of the moment.

14. Dreamforgers

- People who can enter and manipulate dreams.

- Gesture: Weaving fingers in intricate patterns while in a trance.

- View: Dreams are a bridge between realities, holding power and prophecy.

15. Sunseekers

- Pilgrims who follow the path of the sun, gaining strength from its light.

- Gesture: Holding a hand above the heart to swear oaths under the sun’s gaze.

- View: The sun’s light is a witness to all promises, giving them sacred weight.

16. Frostborn

- Ice-dwellers with control over cold and frost.

- Gesture: Exhaling a cold breath to signify agreement or truth.

- View: Ice preserves and protects, holding the essence of life.

17. Songhearts

- A musical culture that uses songs and sound for magic.

- Gesture: Placing a hand over the throat and singing a single note to show sincerity.

- View: Music is the language of the heart and the most honest form of communication.

18. Runecarvers

- Inscribers of powerful runes that grant various abilities.

- Gesture: Tracing runes in the air or on surfaces to cast spells.

- View: Runes are the written words of the gods, containing immense power.

19. Stormcallers

- Masters of weather, able to summon and control storms.

- Gesture: Raising a staff to the sky to summon storms.

- View: Storms are the breath of the gods, bringing both fury and renewal.

20. Plainsriders

- Nomadic horsemen known for their speed and agility.

- Gesture: Drawing a circle in the dirt with a foot to mark territory or signal peace.

- View: The open plains are a vast, sacred expanse that must be respected.

21. Mycologians

- Mushroom-like beings who can communicate through spores.

- Gesture: Spreading spores by tapping a mushroom cap to communicate.

- View: Fungi are the bridge between life and decay, recycling energy.

22. Glimmerfolk

- Glittering, gem-encrusted people who can harness the power of precious stones.

- Gesture: Touching gemstones to channel their energy.

- View: Crystals are vessels of ancient power and knowledge.

23. Thornclad

- A warrior culture clad in thorny armor, known for their fierce combat skills.

- Gesture: Clasping hands with thorned gloves to signify a bond or agreement.

- View: Pain and resilience are intertwined, symbolizing strength.

24. Celestials

- Star-born beings with a deep connection to the cosmos.

- Gesture: Drawing constellations in the air with glowing fingers.

- View: The night sky is a map of destiny, guiding their every action.

25. Inkshapers

- People who can bring drawings and tattoos to life.

- Gesture: Drawing a symbol on their skin to activate a spell.

- View: Ink and art are extensions of the soul, capable of bringing thoughts to life.

26. Mirageweavers

- Desert dwellers who can create illusions and mirages.

- Gesture: Waving hands to create illusions and mirages.

- View: Reality is fluid and can be shaped by perception and will.

27. Echoers

- A culture that communicates and fights using echoes and soundwaves.

- Gesture: Clapping or snapping fingers to create soundwaves for communication.

- View: Sound is a powerful force that can shape the world around them.

28. Ironveins

- Metal manipulators who can shape and control metal at will.

- Gesture: Clenching fists to channel metal manipulation.

- View: Metal is a living force, constantly evolving and reacting.

29. Wyrmkin

- Dragon-like people with scales and the ability to breathe fire.

- Gesture: Exhaling a plume of smoke or fire to show respect or power.

- View: Dragons are the ultimate beings, embodying wisdom and might.

30. Duskborn

- Night-dwellers who gain strength from the moon.

- Gesture: Holding a candle to their chest, symbolizing the light within the darkness.

- View: Darkness is not to be feared, but embraced as a part of the natural cycle.

31. Crystalhearts

- A society with crystalline bodies that can refract light and energy.

- Gesture: Touching their heart crystal to show honesty and purity.

- View: Crystals are the heart of their being, reflecting their true selves.

32. Skyforgers

- Builders of floating cities and airships.

- Gesture: Hammering an invisible anvil to craft objects from thin air.

- View: The sky is a forge, and they are its smiths, creating wonders from the air.

33. Leafkin

- Plant-based beings who can photosynthesize and communicate with flora.

- Gesture: Placing a leaf in the palm to connect with nature.

- View: Leaves and trees are the lifeblood of the earth, nourishing all.

34. Sandshapers

- Desert people who can control and shape sand.

- Gesture: Drawing patterns in the sand to communicate or cast spells.

- View: Sand is a canvas for their magic, constantly shifting and changing.

35. Moonshadow Elves

- Elves who live in the shadows of the moon, skilled in stealth and night magic.

- Gesture: Casting moonlight on their face to invoke lunar power.

- View: The moon is a guide and protector, influencing their magic and lives.

36. Bloodrunes

- Warriors who use their own blood to inscribe powerful runes.

- Gesture: Pricking a finger to draw blood and create runes.

- View: Blood is the essence of life, and through it, they gain power.

37. Dreambinders

- People who can link their dreams to reality.

- Gesture: Twining fingers together to weave dreams into reality.

- View: Dreams are powerful forces that can shape and change the world.

38. Thunderclans

- Tribes who worship and control thunder and lightning.

- Gesture: Stamping feet or clapping hands to summon thunder.

- View: Thunder is the voice of the gods, a call to action and power.

39. Feywilders

- Inhabitants of the fey realm with unpredictable and chaotic magic.

- Gesture: Dancing in a circle to invoke fey magic.

- View: The fey are mischievous yet powerful, their magic a blend of chaos and beauty.

40. Mirrorborn

- People who can step through and manipulate mirrors.

- Gesture: Touching mirrors to travel or communicate.

- View: Mirrors are portals to other realities, reflecting infinite possibilities.

41. Wispwalkers

- Ethereal beings who guide lost souls.

- Gesture: Holding a wisp of light to guide lost souls.

- View: Wisps are guides and protectors, leading them through darkness.

42. Frostweavers

- Ice artisans who create intricate and magical ice sculptures.

- Gesture: Weaving ice crystals into intricate patterns.

- View: Ice is a delicate and beautiful force, capable of great power.

43. Starwardens

- Celestial knights who protect the realms from cosmic threats.

- Gesture: Drawing star maps in the air to invoke celestial power.

- View: The stars are guardians, watching over and protecting them.

44. Emberkin

- Fire-dwellers with control over embers and ash.

- Gesture: Snapping fingers to produce sparks and embers.

- View: Embers hold the remnants of fire’s spirit, representing both the end and beginning of the flame.

45. Oceanborne

- Sea nomads who can control the tides and waves.

- Gesture: Drawing water symbols in the air to summon sea spirits.

- View: The sea is a vast, living entity, a source of mystery and power.

46. Windwhisperer

- Communicators with the wind, able to send messages across great distances.

- View: The sky is a living entity, responsive to the voices of those who respect it.

- Gesture: Moving gracefully to mimic the flow of the wind.

47. Etherseekers

- Gesture: Holding out their hands to draw ether into themselves.

- View: The ether is a vast reservoir of magic, accessible to those who seek it.

48. Twilight Guardians:

- Gesture: Holding a lantern to light the way through twilight.

- View: Twilight is a sacred time, a bridge between day and night.

49. Windwalkers

- Gesture: Moving gracefully to mimic the flow of the wind.

- View: The wind is a messenger of the gods, carrying whispers of destiny and change.

50. Eclipsewatchers

-Gesture: Covering one eye while the other remains open to signify balance

- View: Eclipses represent the merging of light and dark, a time of balance and reflection.

---

Autumn Bonus 🍂🍁

Imagine crafting a world so rich and immersive that your readers can’t help but fall in love. Designed by a fellow writer, this template is your key to unlocking limitless creativity and depth in your storytelling.

Why You Can’t Miss This:

- Worldbuilding Worksheets: Covering political, cultural, historical, and economic aspects.

- Series Support: Perfect for multi-book sagas.

- Lifetime Use: Buy once, use forever.

- Easy Navigation: User-friendly design for smooth workflow.

- In-Depth Character Sheets: Create complex, unforgettable characters.

- Information Hub: Centralize all your worldbuilding details.

- Writer Tool Repository: Access top tools from around the web.

- Guided Writer Tasks: From idea generation to book publishing, we’ve got you covered.

Don’t let this opportunity slip away! Experience the joy of writing and watch your world come to life.

Build your world. Inspire your readers. Act now!

925 notes · View notes

long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 1 month

Text

DPXDC prompt. Nocturne.

When the Justice League is faced with the need to summon one of the Ancients, Batman categorically refuses to perform the summoning ritual and takes out his phone with a dissatisfied look.

When a shadow with a pattern of stars, crowned with elegant horns, appears next to the vigilante, Tim realizes everything and gasps with indignation. Nocturn. That's why such a paranoid man like Bruce didn't resist a cooperation agreement with Infinite Realms.

Of all the mentors of the new King of all dead ones, in addition to Frostbite, who has invaluable medical knowledge that can be useful to Jason, the Ancient of dreams and nightmares has been considered one of the most welcome guests in Bruce Wayne's manor for several weeks now. And it's all because he is the only one able to knock out Red Robin and make him sleep for more than three hours in a row. It's just that none of the children were allowed to know about it.

Batman looks away, not wanting to meet Timothy's gaze. Someone would consider using a helping hand from a being who commands the very essence of dreams a dirty and excessive trick, but this someone is not Bruce Wayne who in the analysis of caffeine taken from Drake's vein from time to time hardly found blood.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dpxdc prompt #dpxdc prompts #nocturn #dp nocturne #dp nocturn

1K notes · View notes

princesscait26 · 5 months

Text

Oh Deer

Alastor x Y/n

Summary: What happens when y/n uses Alastors mug.

The morning hummed with the promise of a new day at Hazbin Hotel. Y/n, feeling the pull of caffeine, ventured downstairs to the kitchen, her eyelids heavy with the remnants of sleep. A cursory glance at her array of cups revealed a mountain of unwashed dishes, prompting a tired sigh. Resigned, she reached for the nearest ceramic, which happened to be Alastor's iconic mug emblazoned with the words "Oh Deer." A mischievous grin crept across her lips as she imagined the chaos she could sow with this borrowed cup.

Pouring herself a generous serving of coffee, she indulged in a sinful amount of sugar and cream, relishing the sweetness that danced across her taste buds. With her concoction in hand, she sauntered into the living room of the lobby, her tail swishing behind her with excitement, ready to tackle the day's challenges.

From his post at the bar, Husk's bleary eyes widened in horror as he spied Y/n cradling Alastor's prized possession. Panic clawed at his chest as he approached her, snatching the mug, his voice a frantic whisper. "Are you out of your mind? He'll have your head for this," he hissed, the fear in his tone.

Y/n chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she defiantly reclaimed the mug. "Relax, Husk. I'm just a doe enjoying her morning brew," she quipped, her smirk daring him to challenge her further.

Husk's expression wavered between disbelief and trepidation, but ultimately, he decided to wash his hands of the impending chaos. With a resigned shake of his head, he retreated to the safety of the bar, determined not to be caught in the crossfire of Y/n's antics and Alastor's wrath

———————————————————————

Alastor, the illustrious radio demon, embarked on his customary routine. With each step echoing a sense of purpose, he descended into the kitchen, eager to fuel himself with the elixir of wakefulness before ascending to the radio tower for another captivating broadcast, replete with reminders of those who dared to cross him.

However, his meticulously planned morning took an unforeseen detour as he reached for his prized mug, only to find it conspicuously absent from its designated spot. A flicker of confusion danced across his features before morphing into a scowl of irritation. The scent of coffee hung heavy in the air, betraying evidence of recent use. How could anyone be audacious enough to pilfer his cherished vessel?

Venturing into the lobby, Alastor's keen eyes swept over the familiar faces occupying the space. Husk diligently tending to the bar avoiding his bosses gaze, Charlie engaged in animated conversation with Angel Dust, and Vaggie brushing Charlie’s hair—all mundane scenes in contrast to the brewing storm within Alastor's mind.

Yet, it was the sight of Y/n, nestled comfortably amidst a sea of paperwork, cradling a cup of coffee in her hands, that drew Alastor's attention like a moth to flame. A devilish grin spread across his lips as he honed in on the object of his suspicion.

Approaching with predatory grace, Alastor loomed over his favorite little doe, his presence casting a palpable shadow over her workspace. With a tilt of his head and a glint of mischief in his eye, he addressed her in a melodic tone that belied the underlying threat. "What have we here, my dear?" he crooned, his voice a siren's call of danger.

Y/n met his gaze with feigned innocence, her lashes fluttering as she summoned her most pure expression. "Just a cup of coffee, darling," she replied, her voice dripping with sweetness as she dared him to challenge her façade.

A tension lingered between Alastor and Y/n, their relationship a delicate dance of affection and provocation, evident to all who dwelled within its walls. Over time, they had forged a bond woven with pet names and whispered endearments, their connection an open secret among the patrons who watched with bated breath as their story unfolded.

As Y/n sat, in the familiar warmth of Alastor's presence leering against her, sending a cascade of shivers down her spine. His voice, a velvet purr, tickled her ear as he leaned in close, his breath ghosting over the nape of her neck. “That belongs to me, cheri.” Y/n was at a loss for words, heart pounding in her chest and her face as red as Alastor’s ears. With deliberate intent, he materialized before her, his proximity a deliberate distraction as he reached for the mug cradled in her grasp.

A pout graced Y/n's lips as she resisted his advance, her fingers tightening around the mug as if daring him to challenge her claim. Alastor, undeterred by her defiance, closed the distance between them, his nose almost touching hers and his gaze locking with hers in a silent challenge. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, every eye trained on the unfolding drama, anticipation crackling in the air like electricity.

Charlie, her smile a beacon of encouragement, stood hand in hand with Vaggie, their shared anticipation mirrored in the gazes they exchanged. Husk, his expression a mixture of concern and resignation, braced himself for the inevitable fallout, while Angel Dust held his breath in rapt anticipation, his eyes fixed on the unfolding spectacle.

With bated breath, Y/n awaited Alastor's response, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of apprehension and desire. As he took the mug from her grasp, a triumphant smile graced his lips, the thrill of victory evident in his crimson gaze. He went to retreat as he thought he had won but, Y/n seized his hand with a surge of newfound confidence, pulling him close in a bold display of affection.

“This belongs to me” she says and their lips meet in a fervent kiss, the world around them falling away as they surrendered to the undeniable pull of their attraction. For a moment, time stood still, the only sound echoing through the lobby the soft murmur of their mingled breaths.

As the kiss lingered, a resounding crash shattered the fragile stillness, the sound of breaking glass punctuating the moment jolting them back into reality. Alastor, his resolve crumbling like the shards of his shattered porcelain cup, returned Y/n's embrace with both hands and a passion that ignited the room, their connection transcending the confines of words and gestures.

In the aftermath of their impulsive display, the patrons of the hotel stood in stunned silence, their shock palpable as they beheld the wreckage of Alastor's beloved mug lying in ruins upon the floor. Yet, amidst the debris, a newfound understanding dawned, as they witnessed the depth of Alastor's devotion laid bare in the wreckage of his shattered mug, a sacrifice made in favor of a love that defied all expectations.

Amidst the scattered remnants of Alastor's shattered mug, Nifty, the ever-efficient maid of the Hazbin Hotel, sprung into action with characteristic zeal. "A mess, I'll clean it," she declared, her voice ringing with determination as she swiftly gathered the fragments littering the floor.

797 notes · View notes

stellamancer · 2 months

Text

prompt: peel back the layers of me, on purpose or accidentally + “i’m not stopping— not now, not ever.”

summary: in the aftermath of everything, megumi is barely surviving.

wc: 1.8k

contains: gn!reader (reader is not a sorcerer but aware of jujutsu society), canon divergent with spoilers post shibuya incident arc, mentioned character deaths (megumi is the only survivor 😭), angst, hurt/comfort

co-written by @seiwas as part of our milestone event collab: keep this love unspoken (tell me as loud as you can) [closed]

You find Megumi in the rain.

He stands from a distance, back hunched and fingers twisted in what you know calls for Divine Dogs. The moonlight lends itself to his shadows, a distant light cast upon what’s left below—illuminations over darkened silhouettes.

You know he can’t summon them anymore, their powers having trickled over to the handful of shikigami he has left. But you think at this moment, body slack and drenched in rainfall, that he looks like one right now—a lone wolf staring at the moon, searching, reaching.

(His howls are deafeningly silent.)

“Megumi!” you shout, the umbrella in your hand shaking as your waterproof jacket shelters you without warmth.

He doesn’t respond—you didn’t expect him to, anyway.

Megumi’s been different for a while. Withdrawn.

And though he’s always been hidden within layers of himself, it never used to be this many; he would always shed one off when it came to you.

“You’re going to get sick!” you attempt again.

You’ve known this secluded clearing since you were 10. It lies deep inside the training grounds of the college, hidden within tall trees and winding paths—as if it was always meant to safe-keep the memories made in them: the first time Megumi ‘trained’ with Gojo at age 7; the day when you, wide-eyed and seeing, knowing of the horrors of this world–his world–were eventually introduced as his training companion years later.

He doesn’t move.

You take a deep breath, stepping towards him.

Companion, not partner is what you are.

With your abilities limited to just seeing, you never had to fight his battles. Instead you watched, sat on the sidelines as you both grew, always around but never beside him—because, what else could you do?

Even when his world continued to take, and take, and take; Tsumiki. Nobara.

Gojo.

Yuuji.

It was (is) all you could (can) do.

Walking towards him now, with unease weighing on every press against crunching grass and sinking soil, you wonder if this is what it feels like to enter a battlefield.

The air is thick and damp, a sickening cold that seeps deep into bones—when you get close, he’s heaving, each rise and fall of his back punctuated by ripples of white cotton clinging.

“Megumi,” you say softer but not any less firm, “we should head back.”

The word rings in his ears.

(Back? Back to what?)

He turns his face to the side, droplets falling from the tips of his hair and down the slope of his nose. It’s awful how you’re reminded of a scene completely different from this—him, at 10, fighting back a smile as you play in the rain with his lone two shikigami.

“Still training,” he finally speaks, tone flat. Unfeeling.

Except he isn’t. You know he isn’t—isn’t training, isn’t unfeeling.

Eight years, you’ve known Megumi, two since he lost everything. You’d always seen it as a blessing that your hands could never bear the power to be weaponized against anything, but now you curse every twisted fate in jujutsu society that there’s no one left to carry the burden but Megumi.

You sigh, extending your arm as you step closer to cover him with the umbrella.

“I’ll keep you company then.”

That’s what you are after all—it’s what you’ve always been, throughout the past two years especially. His eyes no longer meet yours as if speaking to you without talking; the small smile he used to give you now falls flat, static. Fingers that once moved fluidly, surely, now fidget as he picks at the sides of his nail beds, skin peeling.

“You don’t have to,” he mutters tightly, the call for Demon Dogs morphing into clenched fists beside him.

Something in him feels like snapping.

How can you just always be there?

Waiting. Tending.

It shouldn’t tick him off as much as it does right now, but it does, because—

“Well,” you clear your throat, shifting your feet, “someone has to keep you dry if you’re staying out here.”

—you say it so easily, as if this is something you just do and not give.

As if he should even be here, when he shouldn’t. Especially not on the receiving end of it.

His chest burns.

“I didn’t ask for that,” he spits out, grabbing hold of the edge of the umbrella to tip it over, knocking it out of your hands.

It falls to the ground and rolls away, but you don’t move to grab it— your eyes are on Megumi.

Only Megumi.

The fire in his chest rages on, bright and hot, the flames licking at his ribcage. It hurts, it’s painful. His heart is charred, with little left to serve as kindling and yet, despite the rain, despite everything, it remains ablaze.

Just like the fire in your eyes right now.

Rather than reach for the umbrella, you take a step toward him, the rain saturating your clothes, your skin, but you don’t seem to notice, don’t seem to care.

All Megumi can think of is how it's unfair.

You shouldn’t be wasting your time on him, not with his bloodied hands and dark thoughts. He never should have survived, he didn’t deserve to survive. Fushiguro Megumi is living on time that isn’t just borrowed— it’s stolen, ripped from the hands and souls of those far, far more deserving.

Time is precious, he’s learned, but here you are trying to throw yours away.

“Megumi, please,” you say and while your words are soft, there’s a tautness there that Megumi painfully recognizes. Tsumiki would use that tone too, in her patience, in her frustration, whenever Megumi would act out. He’d always bend to her will eventually, but you are not Tsumiki.

He will not give in to you.

“Can’t you see how tired you are?” you plead. It doesn’t matter; he doesn’t care, and either you don’t seem to realize, or you do and you don’t care either. “I know you want to keep training, but I really think that maybe you should turn in for the night. Get a good night’s sleep and start again in the morning.”

Megumi hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in ages, and honestly speaking, he doesn’t think he will ever again. How can he when he knows that Yuuji and Nobara will never wake up again? He starts to turn away from you. “I’m not tired.”

“Megumi!” He hears you take another step and feels the slightest tug at his shirt—

Gojo gave him this shirt for his 15th birthday. It was two sizes too large and exactly the type of thing Gojo liked to wear himself. Whenever Megumi wore it, he looked childlike and ridiculous; in fact the first time he put it on Gojo laughed so hard that Megumi swore he saw tears in his eyes. Megumi remembers snapping at him, telling him if he was going to buy someone clothes as a gift, it would be best to buy clothes that actually fit, but Gojo had merely laughed it off, telling Megumi he’d grow into it one day.

Now Gojo is gone, but just as he said, Megumi's grown into the shirt. It fits better now, even though it’s worn and fraying. Whenever he wears it he can almost hear Gojo laughing at him, telling Megumi ‘I told you so’ in that annoying voice of his.

All he hears right now is the ripping of fabric.

Megumi’s body goes completely still and you are oddly silent.

It’s almost as if time has stopped.

But then the apologies start spewing from your mouth, unending and torrential, just like the rain above. “Oh my god, Megumi, I’m so sorry, I—”

He turns around to face you, and the shirt rips even more, tearing more and exposing his chest. Any hope of the shirt being repaired is gone, but Megumi doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, because all he sees right now is you, fretting and wide eyed, “I told you to just leave me alone!”

You fall silent, your words and apologies staunched. The downpour surrounding you both only seems to get louder, more relentless, and the both of you are soaked to the bone. There’s no way that either of you are getting out of this without catching a cold, but Megumi doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, he doesn’t—

“Why do you keep doing this?” he demands. “Why don’t you just—”

He stops short, all the words in his head trying to fly out of his mouth all at once.

In the midst of his silence, you speak up, your voice barely audible, “...just… what?”

Stop.

Leave.

Go away.

“...this is pointless,” he finally answers.

“No, Megumi it’s—”

“It is!” he argues, his voice rising. “You’re wasting your time with me, so just stop already!”

Life isn’t fair. Megumi learned that long, long ago. When his father abandoned him, when Tsumiki fell into a coma, when Yuuji died over and over, when Gojo died at his hands. Time and time again Megumi has had it beat into his head, burned into his mind that life isn’t fair.

And neither, he’s learned, are you.

“I won’t,” you say, voice firm, resolute. You take another step toward him, and it feels almost as if Megumi’s entire world is shaking, tilting on its axis and flipping upside down. The fire in your eyes burns bright and hot, the flames calling to the one raging in his chest. It aches and yearns. His heart is smoldering, but still it beats, drumming to a beat that’s at odds with the torrent surrounding you both.

You reach for him, and before Megumi can try to dodge, before he can slip through your fingers, your hands cup his cheek, gentle and firm before you bring him down so that you are both eye to eye. He sees himself reflected in your eyes, widened and bewildered. The only thing you see is Megumi.

Only Megumi.

“I’m not stopping,” you say, thumbs pressing into his cheeks, as if you’re trying to leave a mark. “Not now, not ever!”

And then you kiss him.

It’s like a shock to his system— lightning striking the ground where he stands. You’re putting everything into this, your frustration, your desperation, your love. Megumi can feel it, flowing from you to him, like electricity, like cursed energy. His hands shake, torn between pushing you away because he doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve you, and holding you close because you’re all he has left.

This isn’t fair.

You pull away slowly, and Megumi only wants to give chase. He knows he shouldn’t and yet…

“I…” he begins, the words fumbling around in his mouth. “I don’t…”

“I don’t care,” you interject, cutting him off. “You can tell me that you don’t deserve this; but I don’t care. Life isn’t fair, I know, so why should I have to be?”

Megumi stares at you, speechless.

“So, Megumi please,” you plead once more, and this time all Megumi hears is you and you alone. “Please let me in.”

It seems the rain won’t stop anytime soon, and, for better or worse, neither will you.

With a deep sigh, he relents.

He gives in to you.

notes: requested by @firein-thesky

cielo! thank you so much for requesting and we're sorry it took so long, but hopefully it was worth the wait!!

um, i'm (niku) not sure what else to say regarding this piece. sel took the lead here actually and i did my best to match her in terms of writing but i think you can tell when i took over LMAO. i don't want to ramble too much but maybe i should do like sel and do my notes at the end from now on too... hmm.

#fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro megumi x y/n #jjk x reader

379 notes · View notes

puppetmaster13u · 1 month

Text

Prompt 345

Let it be known that none of them actually expected the idiots’ of the week’s ritual to work. The summoning hadn’t worked for literal centuries- everyone knew it had been sealed away, presumably forever!

(Of course they had no way to know that in the Infinite Realms actually used the term forever as a measurement of time, what with how time itself wasn’t particularly linear within. And to beings that could hypothetically live for eternity? Forever was a nice vacation time really)

So maybe they hadn’t been exactly focused on stopping the ritual as much as they could of been, and by the time they realized it was working, well, it’d been a bit too late then. So yes, mistakes had perhaps in fact, been made.

First had come the chill, the cold of the ground as your body was lowered down, the cold of your blood dripping from your living corpse. Then came the shadows, the darkness creeping along their vision as their soul slipped from their body. Followed by boiling heat, flames scorching through their flesh and tearing from their chests like a blade piercing their hearts.

The form that emerged was massive, a cloak dripping crimson fluttering in the wind of an unseen battlefield, verdant flames licking at the air and causing the surrounding shadows to writhe. A dark growl echoed through the building, the stone below them shaking while deathly green eyes glowered down at the living with utter contempt.

“Do any of you imbeciles know how long it takes to get ghostlings to sleep-”

#Prompts #DCxDP #DPxDC #Halfa Trio #Dark Ages Ship #Dad Pariah Dark #He didn’t get a choice about it #The sarcophagus opened and Clockwork dumped the trio into his arms before he could fully wake up #Core bonded before he even registered anything #Look one has blue skin & one has white hair & one has green hair #He’s like 60% wondering if they’re actuall his & Clockwork’s & not gettin an answer #Clockwork is having fun acting as queen regent while Pariah takes care of de-aged trio #Gettin to kick the Observants’ asses while PD accidentally heals his torn core #Look a family-obsession would actually make sense for a ghost king-#he just also buckled under the weight of the Realm without a council #Because he insisted he could make it work as everyone else repaired the at the time #war torn zone from (insert thing lost to time here)#Tucker's ghost form has blue skin & gold eyes #Sam's has red eyes & dark green hair

916 notes · View notes

crushribbons · 17 days

Text

ʜʏᴘᴏᴄʀɪᴛᴇ

summary: Alicent Hightower, queen of the realm, cannot sin alone.

cw: 1.3k words, SMUT (18+ ONLY), takes place late s1ish, alicent x chambermaid!reader, fingering, oral (both f!receiving), kind of toxic power abuse, religious undertones (for the vibes), fem!reader/oc. based off a prompt from my love @wedonthaveawhile whose brain is magic. requests open.

a/n: no research we die like lesbian servants!! xx laney

Rhaenyra and Alicent are nose to nose.

“The supposed parentage of my children is nothing but a rumor designed to discredit me,” Rhaenyra says, her teeth gritted together. “Designed, I believe, with intention, by Your Grace.”

The snort slips out of you before you have time to consider that it could be your last. King Viserys’ chosen heir whips around, a streak of lighting running through her stormy eyes.

“Beg pardon, Princess, I was merely coughing.” You curtsy low, with your eyes fixed hard on the stone floor. In your periphery, Rhaenyra turns back to face her stepmother.

Alicent’s gaze never falters, never falls from Rhaenyra’s. Her regal chin is raised in defiance and the fire backlights her auburn hair, making her personage glow in a way not of this earth. Your breathing falters as you watch hers remain even, measured.

She takes in a breath through her nose. “I will not see my children passed over for the throne for the false offspring of a woman who flouts duty and honor as if they mean nothing.” You busy yourself with turning down the queen’s duvet and placing warming pans at the foot of it, all the while straining your ear to hear the low anger seeping out of Alicent. “You have needlessly tainted a bloodline ten thousand years strong, one that I was expected to uphold without question or complaint. I have never faltered in my duty to your father,” she continues, and you notice Rhaenyra’s nostrils flaring, her lips pressing into a bloodless line.

And you have been a good queen, a noble queen, to us all! Beloved forever by the people of Westeros, to be sure! you want to cry. You do not, however, bound by your station to stay ever silent and unnoticed by the occupants of the Red Keep. You shrink yourself smaller into the shadows beside Alicent’s bed, watching. Alicent’s hands are clasped together, and something stirs inside you as you watch her knuckles whiten. She is so lithe, so elegant, her posture impeccable. The green dressing gown she wears shows off her narrow shoulders and you can’t help but feel the heft of fabric, ghostly, in your hands as you imagine pulling it off her. Shame shoots through your chest at the thought, while arousal hits lower.

Rhaenyra is speaking again, but her voice has lost some of its glass-sharp edge. “I will not speak of this anymore, Alicent—” You bite your tongue to stop yourself from speaking out of turn and instructing the ingrate princess to address her lady queen as “Your Grace” “—certainly not in the presence of such attentive ears.” The attentive ears turn red. Rhaenyra turns to you once more and calls, “Leave us.”

“Stay.”

You freeze. Alicent’s hand is raised, her soft palm pointing at you, but her eyes stay fixed on Rhaenyra. For a moment, all three women are suspended in indignation, anger, fear, and the only sound is the crackle of the fire. It sounds like Syrax, opening her maw wide to summon a pillar of destruction.

“Perhaps sleep…” The queen’s voice is softer than the pillow you don’t realize until that instant that you’ve been clutching. “Would be the most productive course, for now. You have traveled long, Princess.”

Rhaenyra looks as though she wants to say something, anything, to have spoken the last words between the two of them. She does not, however. With a final, searching look into Alicent’s eyes, the Targaryen sweeps out of the room, the heavy door slamming behind her. The candelabra flickers. Its wicks have burned too low.

Alicent does not move for several seconds, staring after the departed princess. It seems she can smell something in Rhaenyra’s wake, and it is not altogether unpleasant to her. Blood is rushing in your ears, and your fingertips are strangely numb. You open your mouth to speak, but your tongue weighs too much.

“You forget yourself too often.”

“I am sorry, Your Grace.”

“We must be more careful. Do not be so quick to defend me.”

“I cannot help it, Your Grace. She tells lies and besmirches the name of House Targaryen.”

“How can you dare to make such indictments against your future queen?”

Your knees are made of water. It feels like a trap. “You are my queen. My only.” Alicent, at last, looks at you, and it makes you sag onto the bed.

Her head tips to one side. She regards you. “Mm. Very good.”

She murmurs it again, but the second time, it’s said into your neck, her breath hot against your skin while her fingers work their way inside you and her naked frame presses you to the mattress. The bed is heavenly soft, softer than anything you’ve ever been allowed to sleep on in your life, but it’s nothing compared to her lips on yours. Her tongue laves across your bottom lip, sweet as honey.

It’s so rare that she takes you in her bed; you almost feel elated. You never mind being with her elsewhere, though. She makes it hard to care about anything other than the sheer her that fills the room every time she enters. While Alicent takes both of your wrists in her left hand and moves over you to pin them to her headboard, her other hand never stopping its pumping in, out, in, her tits brush against your face and you feel no remorse for the wail she lets fly as you bite down on the curve of one. Your teeth dig in, a ragged moan tears out of her, and her bare cunt grinds down on the thigh she is straddling. She’s unbearably wet, and you can feel her clench against your leg as she breathes, “Once again.”

In, out, in. Long, elegant fingers, soft from a lifetime of gentility. Endless locks of hair flow down over her shoulders and down to her waist. She’s an angel, you’re sure now. “The princess is a liar. She flaunts her indiscretions, her lack of care for this noble house. She is shameless.”

Allicent releases your hands so she can move down and suck your clit between her lips, pushing her tongue inside you alongside her fingers. You’re so full of her, so put on display and arousal dripping down onto the royal sheets, that it makes you cover your eyes and groan. “Your Grace,” you weep, grabbing a handful of her loose curls. “Please, keep going, please.”

“Tell me what you think of her bastards,” she murmurs, pulling her lips away from your heat. Her free hand moves to your clit and rubs it, alternating between circles and light pushes that have you keening your hips desperately. You realize that forming words has become near impossible.

You huff as the coil of pleasure inside you compresses itself. “She fucks anything that looks at her. Any commoner, any pathetic servant in her employ,” you whine. Your head covering is tossed over Allicent’s vanity, your apron on the ground. “Who knows if her children are even Ser Harwin’s? What is to stop her from lying about that, as well?” The queen is as pleased as you’ve ever seen her.

She uses her hand like a sword, sinking into you, the very picture of a conqueror. “You do wonderfully, my sweet, sweet girl. Come for me.” The command is said so mildly, so disinterested, you almost miss it over the roar of ecstasy in your ears. That coil implodes, and you arch your back off the bed with a hollow scream that you should pray can’t be heard throughout the castle. The only thing you have room to pray for, though, is that Alicent never stops moving inside you. That she never stops bedding you. That she never stops needing you to be her mirror.

Hypocrisy is a sin, a septa who you knew when you were no more than eight years old whispers in your ear. Those who do in the darkness what they rail against in daylight.

You know she will start to feel the wash of shame soon, so you fight through the haze that your orgasm leaves behind. “Please, let me fuck you, my queen.”

masterlist

#i either hate this or love it but cannot decide!!#MORE HOUSE OF DRAGON REQS I BEG I BEG #house of the dragon fic #alicent hightower fic #alicent hightower x reader #house of the dragon smut #alicent hightower smut #hotd fic #hotd smut #laneywrites

222 notes · View notes

renthony · 1 month

Text

Coming of Age at 30: Musings on A Wizard of Earthsea

by Ren Basel renbasel.com

Having nerdy parents meant I grew up surrounded by plenty of classic nerdy literature. Our home was filled with iconic science fiction and fantasy, and what we didn’t have, my parents gladly helped me find at the library. I never lacked passion or access to books, yet somehow I managed to skip right over the work of Ursula K. Le Guin.

How this oversight happened, I couldn’t tell you. I devoured every book about hidden worlds with wizard schools I could find—and there were many on the young adult market in the early 2000s. Though I read a decent chunk of them, somehow I never stumbled across the book that did it first: Le Guin’s 1968 classic, A Wizard of Earthsea. No, I didn’t find my way to Le Guin’s wizards until adulthood.

A Wizard of Earthsea introduces Ged, a boy with magical talent. Over the course of the novel, he attends magic school, grows into a young man, and earns his wizard’s staff. While at school, he is nearly killed when a botched summoning spell unleashes a mysterious and terrifying shadow entity. From there the novel follows Ged’s adventures as he seeks a way to defeat the shadow before it can kill him.

The novel is ultimately a coming-of-age narrative, and though I am an adult, it resonates. Ged’s journey with the shadow forces him to accept the darkest, most painful parts of himself, and it’s easy to relate that to my own struggles as I enter my thirties.

In a 1973 essay titled “Dreams Must Explain Themselves,” Le Guin wrote, “Coming of age is a process that took me many years; I finished it, so far as I ever will, at about age thirty-one; and so I feel rather deeply about it.” That quote convinces me I came to A Wizard of Earthsea exactly when I needed it most. In 2024 I am a disabled person in a so-called “post-COVID” world, still following strict safety measures as the rest of the world moves on. Every day I must exist in a world that fills me with fear and anger, and grief at what could have been before things fell apart. I have had to mourn the things—and people—I lost, and find new things to fill the void.

Entering my thirties has involved learning to love the self I have and react to the circumstances I’m in, rather than obsessing over a hypothetical version of myself that might exist if things were different. Just as Ged had to name and accept the shadow as a part of himself, I have had to face my own anger, grief, and regrets, and choose to accept them as part of me. Neither suppression nor avoidance of the shadow—of those difficult emotions; of that pain—can make it go away. It must be seen, and embraced, and processed.

While I’m sure Earthsea would have been relevant, and wonderful fun, to my younger self, I’m glad I came to it at thirty. The magic of a good story helps make confronting shadows a little less terrifying, and it’s true at any age.

Written on commission, using the prompt, “500 words about an Ursula K. Le Guin novel.”

Like this essay? Tip me on Ko-Fi, pledge to my Patreon, or commission an essay on the topic of your choice!

#original post #original essays

216 notes · View notes

flamingpudding · 11 months

Text

Fictober23 Prompt: 20 - "This better be good."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A green Vortex swirled in front of them and Constantine held his breath. This was not like any of the summonses he usually did. He looked over his shoulder at the others present, wondering if he could somehow bullshit his way out of this. But one thing was clear, whatever he had summoned was not one of his demons.

The Vortex continued to swirl before them, slowly greenish smoke started to rise out of him. Then suddenly a melody started to echo around them and Constantine felt like face palming.

"Uh… isn't this the Melody of This is Halloween?" The Flash asked aloud, exchanging glances with the others present.

"Constantine." Great Bats was getting grumpy, the JL Dark member thought, refusing to turn around to face any of the heroes. Ignoring them might make them stop questioning what was happening with this summon. It wasn't like there were any pressing situations, forcing this summon in hopes to prevent whatever interdimensional war Trigon was about to start. No, they hadn't forced him out and away from the curse he had been working on. Not like there were other members of the JL Dark, Constantine clearly knew the big bad Bat liked to work more with than him.

Humming resounded from the vortex now too, clearly depicting the chorus of the well known Halloween song, and John's eye twitched. The fuck kinda demon spirit did he summon now? Was whatever he summoned making fun of him just because that being got summoned in October? The rising smoke started to move, taking on a shape that appeared more humanoid as the humming started to become clearer though it sounded like it was filtered through static as it still sounded somewhat distorted.

"Shadow is the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing green! Spectra is the one hiding under your stairs, fingers like snakes and spiders in her hair."

The voice echoed sounding like a mix of static and white noise but became clearer the more or the green smoke escaped from the vortex. None of them really knew what was going on and Constantine was cursing up a storm in his mind. What the hell was happening right now, he just wanted to get the Spirit of Balance to help them out with Trigon? They were supposed to symbolize balance, surely they would have the easiest time to fix that imbalance the demon was about to wreck across dimensions.

"In this zone we call home, everyone hails to the ghost-like song! In this zone, don't we love it now? Clockworks' waiting for the next surprise!" The smoke was twirling around and moving like they were picking something up from inside the vortex, its shape still smokey but slowly Constantine was able to make out certain shapes of the head and arms as the voice continued to hum and then sing the static was more and more receding.

"Freakshow is the clown with the thermos to his face, sucked up in a flash and gone without a trace. I am the who when you call, 'Who's there?'. Dani is the wind blowing through your hair. Dan is the shadow on the moon at night, Frighty filling your dreams to the brim with fright!" The voice was now very clear, no interference, the smoke had fully formed a human-like body and appeared to be a white haired teen boy, though John noted, his summon was turned with his back to them appearing not to notice him or the heroes in the room and holding… Was that a Halloween party garland?

"This is Halloween, this is Hallo- who the fuck are you guys?" Mid lyrics the kid appeared to have turned around his arms raised like he was going to hang the garland of cut out pumpkins on a wall. White green eyes stared at them before the summoned eyes went to the garland in his hands that were then quickly hidden behind the teens back.

"Spirit of balance-"

"It's Ancient actually."

The spirit, ancient, cut in and Constantine hurried to correct his mistake. "Ancient of balance, we are the Justice League and have summoned you to seek your help…" Constantine started his usual spiel, ignoring Green Lantern's mutter of if that kid really was the spirit of balance as well as the judging looks and burning glare he felt on his back from Batman. He was not going over with them again about the fact that demon, spirits, ghost and the likes can look like whatever the fuck they wanted.

"Okay, stop!" The summoned teen held up a hand before John could continue. "I was in the middle of an important Halloween themed stabilization party preparation! To finally celebrate Dan after Dani pestered him for months! So this better be good, to get in the way of my first fight free weekend in years!"

"A war with demons is about to start." Constantine's head whipped around to glare at Batman, does he need to hold another course of how to properly communicate with interdimensional beings?

"That's Demon Realm Issues, not Ghost related. Could you humans stop mixing us up? I am not even from the same dimension as them and we have enough troubles with them breaching the Ghost Zone borders every month!" The summoned teen arched an eyebrow at them, crossing his arms and bringing that damned Halloween garland back into view again. They clearly didn't want to be here and if Constantine knew anything about unwilling summons then one wrong world could screw them all over right now.

"Trigon is the one starting it." Batman added and once more the JL Dark member sent the Dark knight a seething glare. That hypocrite put him through a lecture about hero behavior and cautions before, John would return the favor once the crisis was handled.

"Trigon?" His head whipped around to look at the suddenly very interested ancient of balance floating over to Batman.

"What did that big toddler do now?" It appeared like the Ancient was talking to themselves more than them as he crossed his arms completely forgetting about the wall decoration in his hands as they tilted their head in thoughts and started to ignore them. They were mumbling something John couldn't hear, for once he wished Superman was around so he could tell them with his super hearing.

"I have no idea who you guys are but, fine! I will help but only because Dan mentioned wanting to fight that overgrown toddler again. That's going to be his stabilizing day present! He can't complain this way that I got him something lame."

Constantine was about to sigh a breath of relief until he noticed the Ancient of Balance opening a good damn vortex and pulling out a snarling, red glowing eyed and blue flamed haired spirit by the neck. He paled then realizing that the being of balance just pulled the Spirit er Ancient of Wrath into their dimension. John then also noticed what appeared to be a little girl hanging like a koala of Wrath's back and then remembered a passage in the summoning text of the Spirit of Balance, he apparently had carelessly ignored.

Summoning Balance, Wrath and Mischief always stuck together. Sweating heavily, Constntine ignored any and all looks sent his way, because he was sure he might have just doomed their Dimension or at least plunged them into chaos for the time being.

1K notes · View notes

yandere-sins · 13 days

Text

Monstober 2024

Monster-Enthusiasts, Monster-Lovers, and Monster-Fucker, I call upon thee! This upcoming October is going to be spooky!

It's time for a whole month of delicious monster content! Whether you want them to stalk, to hunt, or to devour your little protagonists (mind you, the monsters are the real protagonists of the story, hehe), I want to see a month dedicated to the beauty of the Ugly and Horrible! All things monster are welcome—art, writing, any kind of showcasing a monster! No matter how cruel or how obscene you like it—now's the time to show it off! ♥

I have prepared a list of monsters & prompts for your guidance, however, if you'd rather do a different monster or a different prompt, that is totally fine! If you prefer to stay private and not have your post reblogged to this blog, that is totally alright, too! This is merely for fun and giggles, and I welcome everyone who wants to challenge themselves this upcoming October to use this list if they want!

How to participate in my Monstober:

- Starting October 1st create something with the monster or prompt of the day! That is all you have to do.

You don't have to do all days or even in chronological order. Feel free to alter the prompts as needed. Your monsters do not have to match the usual descriptions of their kind! Post whenever and whatever you like as long as it is still connected to monsters!

- If you want your entry to be reblogged: @ me yandere-sins in your post, don't forget to put content warnings if any apply (especially Violence & Sexual Content—however, those are very welcome!), and put long texts (once they reach 3k words) under a read more! I'll reblog the posts as soon as I see and have the time to get to them!

Prompts

Day 1: Chimera | Mixed // Misunderstood // Insanity

Day 2: Werewolf/Werecat | Full Moon // Claws // Beastly

Day 3: Alien | Otherworldly // Uncanny Valley // Space

Day 4: Harpy | Cliff // Flying // Illusion

Day 5: Nymph/Dryad/Leshy | Plants // Playful // Nature's Bounty

Day 6: Naga/Lamia | Scales // Wrapping around // Poisonous

Day 7: Sphinx | Riddles // Sand // Giant

Day 8: Merfolk | Water // Singing // Alluring

Day 9: Folklore Creatures | Cautionary Tales // Truth // Naivity

Day 10: Mimic | Treasures // Hungry // Wrong

Day 11: Yuki-onna/Snow Spirit | Snowstorm // Promise // Guiding

Day 12: Witch/Wizard/Magician | Magic // Spells // Towers

Day 13: Shifter | True Form // Unbelievable // Transformation

Day 14: Minotaur | Labyrinth // Bannished // Following

Day 15: Eldritch Horror | Eldritch // Imprisoned // Tentacles

Day 16: "Church" Grim | Graveyard // Protecting // Spirit

Day 17: Dragon | Fire // Hoarding // Fairytale

Day 18: Kitsune | Tricked // Tails // Mystical

Day 19: Elf | Warrior // Swift // Merciless

Day 20: Goblin/Orc/Troll/Oni | Hordes // Village // Brutish

Day 21: Kelpie | Deception // Following // Stuck

Day 22: Skeleton/Zombie | Undead // Loved // Grave

Day 23: Angel | Feathers // Guardian // Watching

Day 24: Ghost | Shadows // Invisible // Coldness

Day 25: Vampire | Blood // Biting // Night

Day 26: Fae Folk | Lost // Fairy Circles // Names

Day 27: Drider | Silk // Cave // Ensnared

Day 28: Demon | Summoning // Contract // Otherworldly

Day 29: Gods | Reign // Glow // Worshipping

Day 30: Human | Real Monsters // Dangerous // Smile

Day 31: Free Choice of your favorite monster or a completely new one!

I look forward to all the monstrous ideas you'll come up with! ♥

#Monstober 2024 #prompt lists #monster prompts #october challenge #yandere prompts #writing prompts #art prompts #october prompts

180 notes · View notes

kisakis-boyfriend · 11 months

Text

Kinktober Day 22: Tentacles + Overstimulation

Pairings: Ran x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, Eldritch god!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Ran, tentacle fucking, overstimulation, sorcerer AU, college AU

Prompt List by: sakuyaserenitykira 🧡

Author's Note: This takes place in the same AU as the one from the day 6 prompt with Inui. Though the reader is a different supernatural being and this is set 100s of years later. The prologue is pretty plot-heavy, and the whole thing is much longer than I intended for it to be. But I think it's worth it <3

Ran Haitani's boredom has landed him in some rather unfortunate situations before, including a couple trips to the hospital. Never in a million years did he predict that he'd end up in this particular situation though...

It all started with a leather bound book hidden within the library's basement. Ran had snuck in there a few days ago in a fit of boredom, mainly searching for some hidden porn stash that he assumed would be down there. To his dismay, no such thing existed. What he did find was an old, dusty book with several symbols etched into the leather cover. Cocking a brow in curiosity, he shoved the book under his jacket and left in a hurry, the fantasy of finding some ancient spell book or magical journal ran rampant in his mind, though deep down he knew that those things didn't exist

Later that day, he flipped through the pages in secret, locking himself inside of his dorm room and quickly becoming engrossed with the content between the papers. It was filled with what looked like legitimate spells and...summoning spells? This concept intrigued him more than anything else written in the book. Skimming through the different summoning rituals, he landed on one that piqued his curiosity greatly. “Warning: Careless summoning of The Immortal Unknown (praise be to him) could result in a catastrophe that will destroy humankind as we know it. DO NOT ATTEMPT UNLESS AN EXTREMELY EXPERIENCED SORCERER” was scribbled on a sticky note. The modern dialect was a stark contrast to the ‘Medieval speak’, as Ran called it, that the book was composed of

“Hmph. Like this crap is even real.” Ran scoffed, slamming the book shut and hiding it under his pillow. Promptly flopping onto the soft sheets to settle in for a nap, wrapping a soft blanket around his body and soon descending into the realm of dreams

Ran's eyes fluttered open, panic quickly sinking in as he realized that he was underwater. Unfamiliar ruins and sunken ships were scattered around the ocean floor. In front of him was a cave, unfathomably massive and pitch black inside. He gulped as he stared into the abyss, his eyes burning from the salt water surrounding him as he was unable to look at anything else, his stare transfixed on the cavern before him. As a deep rumble shook the entire ground, the abyss seemed to stare back as a pair of large red orbs lit up, glowing and yet casting no light onto the cave's walls

Every last cell in Ran's body tried to move, to swim away from whatever the hell this thing was. Yet he remained immobile, floating effortlessly in the cold waters as the orbs stared through his puny being. Then, in a split second, a growl echoed and whatever creature had been concealed within the black shadows of the cave suddenly lunged forward. It's form revealed in an instant, but not long enough for Ran to process what he actually saw as he immediately sat up in his bed, gasping for air

Sweat spilled down his forehead while his heart raced uncomfortably, a strange sense of dread filled his mind. This feeling compelled him to walk over to the window that pointed out towards the ocean just across from the college campus, a shiver crawling up his spine as he stared outside, almost in a trance. Ran swallowed dryly, wiping the sweat from his brow and turning to sit on the edge of the bed, switching his bedside lamp on with a shaky hand. He glanced back towards his pillow, suddenly remembering what was hidden beneath the soft cushion. Shaking his head, he stood up and grabbed a snack from his stash, swiftly devouring the food before tossing the wrapper onto his desk. Then hesitantly returning to bed, seeing as his nap lasted several hours into the night already. ‘Might as well go back to sleep.’ He thought to himself, crawling under the covers properly and soon drifting off once more

The next few days went by normally, save for a bit of paranoia and spacing out the morning after his strange dream. Hanging out with his younger brother and their friends mostly took his mind off of the dumb book and weird dream, laughing at various things and discussing their plans for the big Halloween party that was only two nights away

Though, the closer that the holiday approached, the more compelled Ran felt to actually perform the strange ritual with the warning note. I mean, it's not like anything will happen, right? Magic and summoning ancient gods or whatever, that's all fake shit. Nothing's gonna happen. At least, that's what Ran told himself. Concocting up a plan on how and where this is going to go down as he dashed back to his dorm room to study the ritual again

He settled on performing the ritual on Halloween night for reasons that he couldn't quite place, though he didn't bother to question why as he was far too caught up in making sure that everything would go perfectly. Already thinking of an excuse as to why he would have to ditch the party and stay in his room all night long. “I'm sick.” Ran said aloud, the idea coming to him naturally. He'd just pretend to be too sick to go out that night. It was perfect!

After hours spent studying the pages of the book and brainstorming every step of his master plan, Ran had everything he needed set up for this night to go off without a hitch. Snatching his phone from the bed, he quickly texted his brother explaining his ‘predicament’

Sent at 3:47 - Hey dude

Sent at 3:47 - I feel like shit rn. Think I caught a stomach bug or something

Sent at 3:47 - Gonna have to skip the party 😔

Sent at 3:49 - What? Seriously?

Sent at 3:49 - We never miss these things

Sent at 3:50 - U need anything? Everyone will be out ya know

Sent at 3:51 - Yeah I know

Sent at 3:51 - I'm so mad

Sent at 3:52 - But I can't even make it out of bed rn

Sent at 3:52 - Jeez

Sent at 3:53 - Just wanna sleep it off

Sent at 3:53 - Party extra hard for me ok?

Sent at 3:53 - Tell Izana I said sorry for missing his party

Sent at 3:54 - 😭😭😭

Sent at 3:54 - Sure thing

Sent at 3:54 - Hope u feel better

Sent at 3:55 - Thanks 👍

Yes! Perfect! Now that Ran was successfully exempt from having to leave the dorm, he would have plenty of time to prepare this ‘summoning circle’ that the ritual called for. With a few substitutions of course, since the actual spell called for all of these strange herbs and crystals and shit. Ran opted to use whatever supplies were available to him. Which resulted in a crude symbol on the floor created with pens, highlighters, notebooks, snack wrappers, and whatever else he could find. It's not real anyways, who cares what the thing is made of?

As nighttime approached the sounds of heavy footfall could be heard around the building, signaling the departure of nearly every student as they left to either join the most popular Halloween party, or hang out with a couple of close friends and watch horror movies

Taking a deep breath, Ran read the contents one last time, beginning the ritual by laying down in the center of the summoning circle. Next came the chant, which he comically mispronounced seeing as it was written in Latin and he was unfamiliar with the language. After finishing said chant, he tossed the book out of the circle and waited

There was a strange sense of excitement to this. While Ran didn't really believe in magic or demons or any of the legends passed around the campus, the prospect of finding an ancient book that could prove all of his doubts wrong was... thrilling. He wanted something to prove him wrong, wanted to have a supernatural experience just for the hell of it. Somewhere deep in his heart, he wanted to believe in all of those things. And as his eyes closed, sighing in boredom, something peered up at the young man laying in the middle of this symbol. It's form slowly rising from the ground in silence....

“And what do we have here?” A velvety voice said, peering at the human with glowing red eyes. Ran immediately jolting awake at the sound of someone else's voice in his closed room. Upon seeing your form, he scrambled to sit up and back away, hitting the side of his bed

“What the hell are you?!” He shouted, fear washing over his features as his eyes scanned your body. Your eye twitched at the rude question, scoffing at him and retorting, “I am The Immortal Unknown, but you, rude creature, may call me Y/n.”

Ran stared at you in disbelief, you were so close to appearing as a normal human...ok maybe not that close. The several large, red tentacles sticking out from behind you did kind of shatter that illusion... As did the glowing red eyes, needle sharp teeth, and strange echoing voice

“Tell me, dear human, for what reason have you summoned me tonight? And what compelled you to create my hallowed circle out of disgusting plastic...? Do you even know who I am?” You sneered, fangs flashing when the light of the candles illuminating the room hit them

“Are we playing 20 questions? What does it matter what your stupid circle is made out of? You showed up anyways.” The sarcastic comment made your blood boil, a scowl quickly gracing your lips as you stepped towards him

“Insolent fool. My domain is situated in the ocean, the same place your kin have decided to dump your filthy garbage.” You began, taking another heavy step forward while your tentacles writhed behind you. “You pollute MY habitat and then dare to mock me by summoning me with that same garbage?! Incompetent cretin. I should rend your weak flesh from your bones right this second.” In an instant several tentacles shot towards Ran, wrapping tightly around his limbs and torso, one of them squeezing his throat as he was lifted into the air before you

“Sh-shit–!! R-relax...'s not like I expected that dumb spell to even work...how was i supposed to know I'd summon a fish?!” Your jaw practically dropped to the floor, eyes widening in disbelief at such a disrespectful display. The tentacles suspending his body tightened painfully, if you hadn't been holding back they surely would have snapped his bones by now

“Your kind used to be much more respectful. I recall a time when your people worshipped me, and rightfully so. Don't tell me this is how you treat your deities these days?” You crossed your arms as you stared down the human, enjoying his pained gasps and struggling

“Maybe if you weren't so arrogant....ow fuck...maybe someone would give a shit about you.” At this point you had heard enough, sending another tentacle towards him, but this time shoving it right down his throat. An action that caused him to immediately gag and writhe around within your grasp, shaking his head while the appendage caused his mouth to stretch around its large circumference. You smirked at the display, tilting your chin up triumphantly

What happened next was quite different from what you anticipated. As the slimy tentacle ungulated within his wet cavern, Ran moaned around it, his eyes rolling back while his tongue moved against the appendage hungrily. You blinked in surprise at the strange display, cocking your head to the side in mild amusement. Quite an interesting turn of events...

“Oh. I see, you're one of those humans.” Ran quirked a brow at your statement, still attempting to deepthroat your tentacle. “I used to have a number of followers like you. They begged for me to grant them the kind of pleasure that only a god could grant them.” You explained, your voice becoming sultry and sending shivers up Ran's spine. “They worshipped me like no other could, allowing me access to every inch of their being. I claimed their bodies as mine, driving them to the brink of insanity with pleasure.” Suddenly, your voice echoed within Ran's mind, simultaneously appearing to come from directly behind him as if you were whispering into his ears. “Then when they finally broke, I claimed their very souls, which they happily gave away to me in exchange for the mind-numbing ecstasy.”

Ran's back arched at your haunting declaration, moaning louder as the tentacle slid in deeper. “I can see it in your eyes, little one. You're scared, but you want that too, don't you?” His lust-filled eyes met yours, batting his pretty lashes at you as if to say ‘yes, I want that’

Chuckling at his desperation darkly, you had the tentacles swiftly remove his clothing, discarding it onto the floor before allowing another tentacle to pleasure him, making it shift from its position around his torso to prodding at his ass. Ran's eyes flew open at the feeling, his body jerking as a reflex while the tentacle oozed a thick substance onto his entrance, rubbing it all around the area and coating itself in it before pushing in. The pain from the initial penetration felt subdued, with only a slight burn from the stretch as the appendage intruded his hole, thrusting itself in and out until it was buried within him

“Hmph. You're doing well so far, human. I must say, I am a bit impressed.” You said, forcing both tentacles to push in far deeper, creating a bulge in Ran's throat from the intrusion. His breathing increased as the slimy limbs began thrusting quickly, ignoring the way he gagged or how tightly his little throat was constricting around them, until they shot thick fluid directly into his stomach

His body spasmed in the air while his insides were flooded with the liquid, already feeling the weight in his stomach from how much was pumped into him. The two tentacles retracted and he coughed immediately once his mouth was free, some of the liquid coming up in the process. “Oh god...aah...” Ran shivered, still a bit hazy from the rough treatment

“Oh sweetheart, you are enjoying this.” You purred, commanding a third tentacle to flick his hard member and earning a jolt from the sudden contact. His cock soon became enveloped within the tentacle's grasp, wrapping around his length several times and stroking him until he was fully erect. The tip of your tentacle slithered upwards until it reached his cock head, squishing and wiggling itself against his tip, which caused Ran to cry out shrilly

This treatment continued for several minutes until you were able to sense his incoming release, promptly stuffing his holes once more. Another loud cry muffled by the appendage sliding down his esophagus while the one buried inside of his ass fucked him roughly, forcing its way in much deeper than before and thickening in girth while it was inside. Within a few more minutes, the thick tentacles came inside of him again, spilling another round of gooey cum in his stomach, so much so that it bulged from the amount of fluid in there

Ran reached his limit soon after, spraying his own cum on his chest and the tentacle currently jacking him off. His hips jerked violently while his orgasm overtook him, moaning all the while. After they finished unloading inside of him, the tentacles retreated once again, leaving him with a sense of emptiness that elicited a whine from him. Except for the one still jerking off his sensitive cock, that one continuously pleasured him even while he wailed from overstimulation

Seeing your prey so fucked out like this had you worked up too, seeing as the large tentacle dick concealed within your pants writhed around wildly. Groaning in annoyance, you pulled the appendage out and stroked yourself, your large human-like hand barely wrapping around the thing. “Mm you have...truly impressed me, human. Haaah...mmph–!!” You moaned in between praises, twisting your wrist while you stroked your alien-looking cock. “Most humans would tap out after the second round, but you...yeess~ You crave something more, hm? Something... bigger? ”

A wave of desire flashed in Ran's eyes, craning his head to look at you while you touched yourself across from him. Soft squelching noises emanating from where your hand met your dick, the tip oozing the equivalent of precum. Ran choked out something akin to begging, his throat incredibly sore from your harsh treatment so far, “Pl-ease...yes...aaahh...”

You'd be lying if you said you didn't want this too, after all it had been hundreds of years since a single follower had summoned you. Much longer since you had been summoned for this. Your cock ached to be buried within a fragile human's tight walls, splitting them open and fucking away their sanity with every thrust. Just the thought of this caused you to involuntarily lick your lips, impossibly sharp teeth peeking through as you did so. Ran stared at you the whole time, turned on by every new detail that he discovered

He gulped when your eyes snapped to his, a dangerous lust hidden behind them as they shined in the dimly lit room. Grabbing his waist with your hands delicately, you lined your cock up with his hole, searching his eyes for any sign of disagreement. Finding none, you plunged inside, stretching his tight hole farther than any human had been stretched before. Ran's hands balled into fists as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, the simultaneous sensations of your monster dick prying him open and the slimy tentacle working his cock had him reeling from pleasure. His head fell back, hanging limply while you fucked him open, until your hand grabbed the back of it and lifted him back up, forcing him to look at your expressions as you railed his slim body

“So tight...yet you're still able to take all of my cock...good boy~ ” The growl caused Ran to tremble, feeling impossibly submissive as the night went on. With one sharp thrust, you managed to bury yourself to the hilt, moaning shamelessly as he clenched around you. Your long tongue lolled out, drool dripping from the end as you fucked Ran's ass deeply. Rolling your hips into him and brushing against his prostate, causing him to whine and push his head against your hand harder

“Dear human, you never had the chance to tell me your name. Won't you tell me now?” You asked sweetly, ravaging his hole the entire time. His body greedily accepting the whole thing

“It's Ran...H-Haitani...ah! Aaahh fuck...” Ran exclaimed when your hips snapped into him suddenly, panting heavily from the way your dick glided in and out of his hole. The name ringing in your ears for a moment while you contemplated it

“Ran...how lovely. You are aware that there's no going back after tonight, yes Ran?” You explained, leaning closer to his sweet face. “Even if you refuse to make a pact with me, to become my worshipper, the thought of submitting to me will never leave your mind. It will plague every second of your pathetic life.” A low growl rumbled within your chest, teasing the human cruelly. Though you weren't actually lying, he didn't know that, all he knew was that he needed your cock to stay inside of him and fill him up until he stopped thinking

Letting his head go, you slid that same hand down to his hips, thrusting deeper due to the better leverage. His moans filled the small room while you railed him eagerly, releasing your tentacles' grip on his legs so that he could wrap them around your torso. Which he did weakly, most of the strength in his legs had left him after being fucked multiple times. “Human... I'm very close...but–” You paused, hips stilling inside of his wet hole as he whined. “I want you. Too much time has passed since I had any loyal followers to worship me, so I want you to be mine~”

Ran stared at you quizzically, suddenly nervous at the idea. Yet something inside of him screamed at him to agree, craving you from somewhere deep down within his soul. “Make a pact with me. Give yourself over to me and I will give you everything you have ever wanted, little one. How about it?” Laying your hand on his stomach, you gazed at him expectantly as you awaited an answer. He tossed the question around in his mind for a moment, but just as the gravity of the question settled in you began thrusting again. Your thick cock erased any rational thought, replacing it with an unfathomable sense of desire

As you slammed into his ass, Ran gasped out his answer, “Ah! Yes...yes yes yesyesyesyes—!! I'll do whatever you want...j-just don't stop—!! ” He shouted, rolling his hips against yours in an attempt to take you deeper. His own release inching closer while you fucked him brainless

“Very good...” You purred, creating a seal on his skin. The same symbol that was lazily recreated on Ran's floor, a mark signaling to any other creatures that the item marked by this seal belonged to you. The mark burned into his skin painfully, a glowing blue inky substance etched into his flesh that forever bound the human to you

“Darling, mmm~ Cum for me. ” You growled, your own orgasm hitting you as your body stiffened, releasing an impossible amount of cum within his warm walls. Ran came just after, shooting his cum all over your hand and the seal that you created on his delicate flesh. The milky fluid acts somewhat as a stamp, effectively sealing the contract created between you and your new follower

Ran soon went limp, panting heavily while your cock finished unloading inside of him. You stayed like this for a minute, rubbing at the new seal with your thumb. All of his nerves felt raw around the area, each little touch and wisp of air that brushed against it caused him to whine and tremble. You slowly and carefully pulled out of him, being as gentle as you really could with the fragile thing. He whimpered when you had fully unsheathed yourself, already missing the stretch of your fat length

Scooping the slender human up in your arms and releasing your tentacles' grip on him, you carried him to his bed. Allowing him to finally rest after nearly breaking him, though he might have enjoyed that too, now that you think about it... nevertheless, you tucked the little thing under the covers and brushed your knuckles against his cheek, whispering a “See you soon, little one.” into his ears before returning to your domain

Tagging: @steadybreadbluebird @6kabuki

#my writing #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader #ran haitani #ran haitani smut #ran x reader #male reader #dom reader #top reader #sorcerer au #college au #sub ran #oneshot #terato

513 notes · View notes