Ace of Books' Selfships

Never too late my dear. You get to claim the young Moondancer.

꒰ა on his twenty sixth year she smells of angel cake and vanilla buttercream when he comes home. but the flavour does not reflect the mood for their night. she is temptation, sin shrouded in gift wrap and bows. a gift to which he sinks to his knees to worship. “you’re late sensei. that’s detention.” she says, not unkind, but as though her voice is made of music. the kind divulged from sensual symphony.

his sanity falls like paper confetti in celebration. “it is my birthday, angel.” he responds selfishly — his birthday wish just out of reach. “won’t you let me off? i promise i’ll be so good.”

꒰ა july fifteenth - happy birthday izu sensei ! - woah woah woah first ever aalizuku comm to ever have graced the land. ive been holding onto this for a minute v much inspired by the scene from the wolf of wall street wink wonk !! am so very in love w this piece hehe. special thank you to the lovely she.sofyee on instagram for bringing my vision to life >_< ☆!

Happy Birthday to the one whose back the Pleasure Pantheon was built on. My first love, my number one protector, the one who gifted me five beautiful kids and fathers them well, my strawberry, my king

🎊 Ichigo Kurosaki 🎊

“hey red, wait up!”

kendall inhales sharply when the strange term of endearment she’s become perhaps too familiar with pierces through the atmospheric chatter of the busy evening sidewalk. turning her head to look over her shoulder, she spots the only man who’d ever be bold enough to act this way headed to meet her.

dante.

“are you talking to me?” she shouts, raising a brow.

he smirks and holds his arms out, attempting to keep his practiced aloofness intact despite just how pretty she is when she looks at him like that.

“of course i am, you see any other cute girls with red hair around here?”

he saunters in her direction, kendall’s steps slowing to give him a leg up in his attempt to catch up with her. upon arrival at her side, dante closes the space between them, shoulders bumping together as they stand side by side.

she rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, turning and boldly reaching for the amulet around his neck.

“this is red,” she argues, pulling the heavy stone away from his exposed chest and gazing into its reflective surface. a slight flush blooms across his exposed chest in the wake of her touch.

“and to be honest, it seems like you’re turning a little red yourself, dante.”

he looks down at her, cool guy facade further slipping.

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

it’s a weak attempt to defend himself and elicits a giggle from the woman next to him who shrugs flirtatiously.

“i have to disagree with you there, red...” she giggles, trailing off, dropping the necklace back against his scarlet-tinged defined chest.