luminarydungeons-blog

[luminarydungeons-blog]

“ a little slower… ” give me. the summoner boys. GIVE THEM TO ME

meme. / @luminarydungeons

     The request asked of him does not go over his head but it causes a breath to escape his lips, teeth clicking when his jaw clenches. A quick nod is offered in response, heated pants escape the summoner’s lips as he forces himself to tense every muscle in his body to force himself to wind back and take the speed down a notch. It’s a little more difficult done than said but he’s able to do it, toes curling into the sheets ( Isaak is trying his hardest not to dig his fingers any further into Vlad’s hips, lest he bruise him ). Another breath escapes him, this one a little shakier but Isaak’s letting gold eyes close for a moment as he steadies himself.

     Never did he think it’d be so hard to stop himself from going crazy, losing himself in the moment. He didn’t realize he was until Vlad said something and his shoulders are trembling and from merely sitting still.

     “Hah… I’ll try to… stay slow,” The words are broken apart by pants, Isaak’s body feeling like a furnace. But with his words, he feels himself leaning forwards just enough to let his forehead rest on the fellow summoner's– his lover’s own. A shudder makes its way up Isaak’s spine and he’s careful when he moves, slowly pulling his hips back before rocking them forward in a fluid motion. He grunts when he’s squeezed, brow furrowing at the sensation. At the warmth of Vlad’s body and the tightness that envelops him. It’s hard to keep himself steady and focused, hard to stay at such a drawn out pace when the other’s body pulls him in and makes the summoner crave so much more.

     More to the point that Isaak has to drop his head down, bury his face within the crook of Vlad’s neck to contain a whine as he pushes his hips forward and feels the both of their bodies connect once again. A thumb drags over the other summoner’s hip, rubs against the soft flesh there before Isaak is adding pressure from his grip tightening. It’s hell, it’s maddening and Isaak wants to snap his hips quick but he knows better. Or at least convinces himself that he knows better just this once.

     Softly, his lips move, Vlad’s name on his quiet breath and he tries to silence himself by kissing at his lover’s throat. By lavishing the flesh in hungry presses of his lips, to focus on something from the painstakingly slow pace he’s forcing upon himself and to keep from biting into Vlad’s neck to swallow the pathetic whimpers that want to leave him. The feel of the pulse beneath his mouth, the way muscles jump and twitch under his fingers and even around him are driving Isaak crazy. And his lips part to pant hard against Vlad’s throat, teeth grazing over the flesh where Isaak threatens to latch on.

     “Please,” It’s the first time he begs and he’s whining again as he forces himself to still and feels how Vlad’s muscles flex and contract, “Let me– Let me fuck you.”

[luminarydungeons-blog]

“ do you like that? ” you dont have to but.... isaak to vlad.....

sexual prompts.

     his voice catches in his throat before he can answer, which is good! it’s good because the moment isaak chooses to punctuate his question with a hard press of his tongue along the slick all but dripping out of the summoner, which completely short-circuits every thought in his head and steals all the breath from his chest that might be used to answer his question.

     he’s awfully glad isaak’s holding him up with a hand splayed against his abdomen, raking his clothing up and out of the way as that mouth so often curved into a sly smile seems intent on blowing vlad’s mind out of the water ( and he’s doing an awfully good job at it, if the way vlad’s words dissolve into babbling before he can even get them out. )

     his hands hover a moment, nervous about touching isaak in return, nervous that anything he does will snap the illusion that this is just a very vivid, very nice wet dream, and finally relents to let one hand settle in russet hair, letting it curl around his fingers as he presses the back of his hand against his mouth to stifle the helpless sounds escaping him.

     when isaak lifts his head again to ask another question in that frustratingly sweet tone, he pushes down atop his head ( a gentle push, to be fair! ) to return him to his task, having to make an effort to suck in enough air to speak.

           “ d-don’t stop, please, don’t -- ”

[luminarydungeons-blog]

emblemteased replied to your post “i almost never write dialogue in my porn im sorry”

(listen its good shit to read)

y e  ll s

[luminarydungeons-blog]

i almost never write dialogue in my porn im sorry

[luminarydungeons-blog]

cormag and saleh are a good ship and u cant change my mind

[luminarydungeons-blog]

“ keep going. keep going. ” cormag to saleh ehe

sexual prompts.

     there is the slide of cormag’s calloused hand along his hip, the bruising press of those fingers into the hollow of the bone there, and saleh can’t help the breathless sound that escapes him. it’s a victory on cormag’s part -- saleh is a quiet man in every aspect of his life. this was no exception, though cormag was starting to become the exception.

     how funny. how sad. how hard he had fallen for this reckless, stupid, wonderful man. the thought has his brows pinching as he rocks down into cormag’s lap, the burn of his thighs from the motion only making everything else that much better.

     it had been cormag’s idea to slip away from the camp for alone time. they’re in a safe place for the time being -- and it isn’t like the two of them are helpless. cormag is the one with the bad ideas most of the time, though saleh would be damned if he didn’t let his mind wander whenever their travels grew long and tedious. 

     there are thoughts of soft kisses along his jaw, of cormag’s lust-rough laugh pressed into the curve of his neck, of the gentler things -- and yet, also the thoughts of cormag’s hand fisted in his hair, of the press of those teeth where his pulse beats loudest, having to make an effort to hold his tongue. . .cormag is all wild edges that press where saleh is yielding most and --

     the press of cormag’s hand along the curve of his back, a touch urging him to ride harder, ride faster, accompanied by the lust drunk slur of ‘keepgoingkeepgoing’, drags him kicking and screaming out of his mental loops he tends to get into. it draws a ragged, messy sound out of the sage in his lap, spurs on the spread of his thighs as he rakes his fingers against cormag’s shoulder and all but groans around the shape of his name.

[luminarydungeons-blog]

me, writing nasty for myself: easily hit 2k words

me, writing it where someone else can see: hrhghdgd titty

[luminarydungeons-blog]

sexual sentences .

melamemea‌:

foreplay .

“ touch my dick — ”

“ i didn’t want you to stop… ”

“ do you like that? ”

“ i want you so badly right now ”

“ i’m so hard for you / i’m so wet for you ”

“ get on top of me — ”

“ you’re so hot ”

“ god that feels nice… ”

“ put your hands on me ”

“ put your mouth on me ”

“ can you blow me? ”

“ i want to feel your tongue ”

“ lick me — ”

“ you’re so wet right now ”

“ you’re so hard right now ”

“ i’m so horny right now ”

“ i wanna fuck you so hard… and so long… ”

“ i wanna feel your dick inside me ”

in the act .

“ god that’s so good. ”

“ fuck. ”

“ take it easy…”

“ you’re so tight… ”

“ use your hands on me —”

“ use your mouth more… ”

“ god that’s good ”

“ you’re really into this… aren’t you? ”

“ i love the way you suck my cock ”

“ i love the way you eat me out ”

“ your tongue feels so nice around me / inside me ”

“ spank me — ”

“ turn around… ”

“ get on your back for me ”

“ get on your knees? ”

“ how’s that? ”

“ a little slower… ” 

“ can we grind for a moment…? ”

“ i love the way your hips bounce on top of me ”

“ your ass is so hot ”

“ how deep can you take me ? ”

“ i’m so hard right now… ”

“ i’m so wet right now… ”

“ god i’m gonna cum soon— ”

“ don’t stop — ”

“ keep going. keep going. ”

“ come here… kiss me. ”

“ give me your hands. ”

“ cum inside me. ”

“ you want me to cum in your mouth? ”

aftermath .

“ was that okay? ”

“ did you have fun? ”

“ want some water? ”

“ you’re trembling… ”

“ that was — something alright. ”

“ god… i’m beat. ”

“ did you bring a towel? ”

“ wanna share a shower? ”

“ stay inside me for a little while… ”

“ come here ~ ”

“ did you come ? ”

“ kiss me…? ”

“ oh god you’re so sweaty — ”

“ could you rub my back? ”

“ let me wipe that off you… ”

“ that was so good… ”

“ we are so doing that again… ”

“ ready for another round? ”

[luminarydungeons-blog]

alfonse: we’ll talk later

me: YALL GONNA FUCK JUST SAY IT

[luminarydungeons-blog]

sb: ryouma is a top

me: you fools

[luminarydungeons-blog]

紙魚丸

[luminarydungeons-blog]

literary sexts vol. 1 poetry meme

Literary Sexts is a modern day anthology of short love poems with subtle erotic undertones edited by Amanda Oaks & Caitlyn Siehl. Hovering around 50 contributors & 124 poems, this book reads is like one long & very intense conversation between two lovers. It’s absolutely breathtaking. These are poems that you would text to your lover. Poems that you would slip into a back pocket, suitcase, wallet or purse on the sly. Poems that you would write on slips of paper & stick under your crush’s windshield wiper. Poems that you would write on a Post-it note & leave on the bathroom mirror. Treat yourself, a crush or a lover with this lush gift!

source and amazon buy link.  

I will be providing select short, sometimes edited, poems for a texting/”sexting” meme, but not the whole book itself.  If you enjoy the poems provided, please support the collection whether it’s the first volume or the second.   Or look into the works of the various contributors and see if anything else they’ve written is to your liking!  

Feel free to add to and/or edit these sentences to better suit your needs—but remember, many of these work best in the context of texts and/or love notes instead of spoken dialogue.    —Lizzy.  

Mark me like a passage from your favorite book, then open me there again and again.

My skin is full of flowerbeds and you know every way to make them bloom.

I am tracing the knobs of your spine like the map of my favorite continent. You are all the places I haven’t visited yet and I mark each one off with my teeth.

Your hands unzip me one breath at a time; there is not room beneath my skin for all of you and I spill over the edges with a sigh.

You take apart my heart in pieces with your mouth, but the splash of your tongue against mine feeds it back to me. It tastes sweeter coming from you.

You opened your mouth and spoke the language in my blood.

You kiss me and there aren’t sparks. There’s an entire orchestra in my chest, playing staccato on my heart strings.

My hands are nomads, my dear desert. May they never find rest.

Being small things, we understand this as our humble attempt at thunder, at setting the world to shake.

Delicate work. Like peeling kiwis. My tongue across your skin. Mellow flesh against my lips. Your taste always in my mouth.

How a storms needs to feel the earth how the earth wakes to the pelt of rain how the ground is quenched is how I need you… 

My hands were glaciers I never dared to move freely, my fingers icicles. Your touch thawed me to excavation. I want to dig into your warmth.

Kiss me like white bread, stick to my teeth even after the whiskey. I want memories of your mouth lodged beneath my tongue to wake me at two in the morning, hungry.

I want you next to me, in my bed, your clothes making friends with my floor. Love me hard enough so we wake up the neighbors.

Your hands peeling that onion, thumbs and forefingers pulling skin from skin—they are sacred. Let me kiss them. Let them bless my sinning chest, let them peel my lips apart.

I don’t want to be your harmonies anymore; I want to be the melody you scream when your heart is starving for love. I want to satisfy your hunger.

Show me the parts of you that nobody else ever wanted to sleep with. Show me it all with the lights on.

You, darling, are Vesuvius. I won’t see you coming. Erupt. Wreck me. Leave me ashes leave me Pompeii, leave me outlined into your history forever.

It’s not so much that I want to kiss you. I want to relearn vocabulary words from the shape of your mouth. All my poems are yours first.

Kiss me blossoms in the summer, lover. I want to taste the succulent sweet of your peach tree smile. This time let Adam take the fruit from the garden.

Surge into me as a downpour, as the pounding waterfall which makes swollen rivers flood, as the sea.

The happy ending to this night: you tug my hair and lightly brush your hand across my lap. Don’t forget how resilient I am and how I would bend for you.

Even my lungs are in love as we breathe together.

I don’t just want to take your breath away. I want to rip it from your mouth and keep it locked away between my teeth. You can only have it back if you kiss me again.

The gentle friction of your hand on my thigh is enough to strike a match inside me. I lean into your lips and the fire blooms and spreads.

You are an undiscovered continent. I trail my fingers down your mountainsides. Ten explorers digging for buried treasure, I want to take it all.

My body is a gospel and you are my first quivering hallelujah. Your breath leaves your mouth like a prayer and washes over me like faith.

My hands are hungry for your flesh, desperate in the way that rivers empty themselves over waterfalls.

I peel back your skin to see if we have the same scars. I follow the map of your veins back to your heart and press my palm against yours to tangle our lifelines.

I hope to breathe in you. I hope my body will be the blood your roots drink.

We commit sins in holy places, fold ourselves between pews like dirty pictures tucked into a bible. Pant each other’s names until they sound like scripture.

My tongue collides with your collarbone like a meteor careening across the cosmos, and I taste the stars you are made of.

You kiss me with your mouth wide open like you’re not afraid of swallowing poison. I taste the good and bad in you and want them both. We call this bravery.

You, benevolent god, legs splayed like instruments of creation. I, blank slate of the universe, kneel in wait for you to fill me with your hot, honeyed light.

My hands are suntanned tourists without a map whose desire compels them onward to explore your golden cities by the light of the stars.

The moment between your thighs where I become a devout follower of your existence. That hour which passes in slow seconds of soft skin, as I lay my head against you, drifting, drowsy with love.

Your grin is a flash of primal fire in the dark. Somewhere deep inside me, something hungry wakens and shifts, uncurls its insatiable tongue.

I have been thinking of how I want to be touched by you, with hands that will play me like piano keys, with fingers that will make a symphony out of me.

You till the soil of my need, my lips a blood-red flower bursting open with the first wet flush of your heat.

When it comes right down to it, all that nonsense about hearts syncing up feels like a hallelujah with our bodies pressed together like praying hands.

Every time, you peel back my skin, pry open my ribs, and feast on my insides. Every time, you make a meal of my heart, and every time, I let you.

You’re not one for poetry or sentimentality, so I’ll just say that I’ve dreamt of being the motor oil trapped in the grooves of your weathered hands.

I ache for your hum between my legs, the purring of motorcycles on winding highways: wind in my hair, and romance in losing myself to the sweet, revving vibration of the engine again and again.

You smile and it’s like sunrise. Something inside me Wakes up, stretching.

I float away in cool sheets against my burning skin, and you are the sea guiding me beyond the realm of earthly things.

My lipstick spills over your mouth and trickles down to your chin, your neck, pooling into your collarbones. We love like crushed grapes in wine country.

You’re kissing a wildfire up my thigh and I am tracing the landscape of your jawbone like a sculptor. My hands were made for this.

The rush you give me: The way a blade of grass must feel when splashed with a cloud’s cry after days of screaming for rain.

We are the fall of Rome, all fire and fighting. We collapse into each other like the pieces of the Parthenon, kissing like gladiators, loving like rebuilding.

You creep into my head like a river rushing for the sea & a cosmic digit of fingertips flash over me.

You are pressing against me like I press flowers against the pages in my book. You are kissing my neck and it feels like the start of forever. I want to touch you until my palms burn.

The wet of your mouth rains down my neck like frame, the soft heat of your tongue burns the apple in my throat. We are practiced at this love that asks angels to cover their eyes and turns devils shy.

I melt into the gentleness of your fingertips. Your tongue presses me open like the summer fresh flesh of a perfectly ripe fig, all juice, seeds and pulp.

The small of your back is refuge, is veldt, is summer heat. And I am predatory snarl.

I can’t brush out the taste of you; coffee breath, cigarette smoke, and all. Mouth to mouth; Our shared vices linger on each other. Your salt still lives in my tongue.

I’ll take you quiet as the bones in your closet, love as softly as a whisper. Holding your tongue like a secret.

You smiled and lit up like the dusk. I sank to your lips like the sun against the horizon. We made the day stand still.

I want to kiss you until you melt into me, ice turning to water. I want to drink you deep, and warm you from the inside.

[luminarydungeons-blog]

≋ TATIZEKE

meme. // accepting

his hands are everywhere; in her hair, on her chest, sliding down between her legs. the water around them splashes loudly, and the bathhouse is filled with the sounds of laughter and ‘i love you’s.

“i’m fairly certain there’s a rule against this,” tatiana says, her voice full of mirth. zeke already has a collection of hickeys on his throat, almost like a necklace; he doesn’t respond, because his lips are on her breast, tongue swirling around the bud, making her moan. his hand gently kneads her other breast- the warmth and roughness of his hand is achingly familiar. 

if there was one thing to be said for their separation, it was that the joy and excitement of being together once more was so immense, tatiana felt like her heart was full to bursting. 

[luminarydungeons-blog]

Intimate Moments

“You make the cutest sounds when you want me.”

“Lie back and I’ll take care of you tonight.”

“All I want to do is kiss you right now.”

“Come on, I drew us a bath. You need to relax now.”

“I will love you until till my dying day.”

“— you smell so good.”

“I can’t stop staring at you in that outfit.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Come and sit on my lap.”

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Take it off slowly.”

“Please let me look at you.”

“I can’t believe you picked me.”

“Do you like it when I touch you there?”

“I want to hear you moan my name.”

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart.”

“I love everything about you.”

“You are my everything.”

[luminarydungeons-blog]

MUSE LIST.

main blogs will be linked, otherwise muses come from my multimuse.

FE7.

canas.

lowen.

karel.

FE8.

rennac.

saleh.

forde.

FE13.

henry.

corbett.

brady.

sully.

laslow.

FE14.

izana.

ryouma.

FE15.

clive.

zeke.

conrad.

kamui.

FEH.

bruno.

vlad ( summoner oc. )