lament.

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the sentence starters are being sent for . these are considered usfw / nsfw .

“ Your breath against my neck is the only thing keeping me from losing control right now. ”

“ I can feel your pulse racing under my fingertips - tell me what you want me to do about it. ”

“ Stop looking at me like that unless you’re ready for what comes next. ”

“ Every time you bite your lip, I have to fight the urge to kiss it better. ”

“ The way your body arches when I touch you here ... it’s almost unfair. ”

“ I’ve been thinking about the sound you make when I kiss that spot just below your ear. ”

“ You’re trembling. Is it because my hands are too cold, or because you like this too much? ”

“ If you keep making those little noises, I won’t be held responsible for what happens. ”

“ I want to memorize every inch of you with my lips. ”

“ Tell me to stop, and I will. But we both know you don’t want me to. ”

“ Your skin tastes like sin, and I’m already addicted. ”

“ I love how you melt the second my hands slide under your shirt. ”

“ You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to pin you against this wall. ”

“ The way you say my name like that should be illegal. ”

“ I’m going to take my time with you tonight - every second, every sigh. ”

“ Your thighs are shaking… should I keep going, or do you need a moment? ”

“ I can feel how much you want this. Don’t try to hide it from me. ”

“ Let me watch you fall apart - just like that. ”

“ You’re so responsive … it’s driving me absolutely mad. ”

“ I want to hear you beg, just once, before I give you everything. ”

“ Your hands feel like fire on my skin, and I never want you to stop. ”

“ Kiss me like you’re trying to ruin me for anyone else. ”

“ I love the way your back bows when I trace my tongue down your spine. ”

“ You’re trying so hard to stay quiet … but I want to hear you. ”

“ Tell me where you want my mouth next. ”

“ I could spend hours just teasing you until you can’t take it anymore. ”

“ The heat between us is unbearable - come here. ”

“ You look so beautiful like this, flushed and breathless because of me. ”

“ I want to feel you come undone beneath my hands. ”

“ Every time you touch me, it feels like the first time all over again. ”

“ Your lips are swollen from my kisses … and I’m not even close to done. ”

“ I love how you grip the sheets when I do that. ”

“ You taste even better than I imagined. ”

“ Don’t close your eyes - I want to see everything you’re feeling. ”

“ I’m going to ruin you in the sweetest way possible. ”

“ Your body fits against mine like it was made for this. ”

“ I can’t decide if I want to go slow and savor you, or lose myself completely. ”

“ The way you whisper my name when I’m inside you … I’ll never get enough. ”

“ You’re so wet / hard already, and I’ve barely touched you. ”

“ Let me mark you here, where only I can see. ”

“ I want to feel your nails in my back while you fall apart. ”

“ You have no idea what you do to me when you look at me like that. ”

“ I’m going to kiss every place that makes you gasp. ”

“ Your hips moving against mine like that - it’s torture. ”

“ I love how you surrender when I finally give you what you’ve been craving. ”

“ Stay still … or I’ll have to start all over again. ”

“ The sounds you’re making are going to haunt my dreams. ”

“ I want you so badly it hurts to hold back. ”

“ Come closer - I need to feel every inch of you against me. ”

dylan's head tilts in thought as he thinks on the elder man's question, his eyes following along with where leo's fingers were tracing, seeing if he could somehow use that to read into leo's thought process. alas, he had no such ability.

A frown clouds his face at that. Concern, perhaps. Borrowed time is not a phrase one ever associates with anything good. Leo watches Dylan wordlessly as seconds pass. Should he press him? Ask if there's something he's not telling him? No. It wouldn't be right to do so, especially if Dylan had come to him with the confidence that the repair could be done in time.

Finally, Leo nods. It's a small, restrained motion, one that he hopes will convey his assurance and understanding. The jacket his loose between his fingers as he picks it up, walking swiftly to his work desk. It won't require patching if I use thread that can be matched, and repair it down the original seam...

She smiled warmly and accepted his arm.

"We'll have fun," she said, "If it ends up being horrible, we can leave and go find something else to do." She gave his arm a comforting squeeze.

"Mm. Do not give me ideas," he murmured good naturedly. "I must admit, I'm not fond of dancing." A lie. Or at least, a partial one. Flickers of amber light cast through chandeliers appeared in his mind, echoes of a hand clasped in his slipping through his careful guard. His chest tightened.

prompts for pre-established thingies・❥・@lxtent

The soft, comforting gesture of an offered cup of tea was hardly unexpected. And yet, Leo still found himself at a loss for words. His heart, his breaths, even the world around him slowed. And perhaps he had known, somehow, that he'd needed that. That was why he had come to Gin.

The irony was not lost on him -- coming to an investigator because of his own hidden demons. With anyone else he might fear they would be pried out of him. But... somehow, the fear had not yet found a way to be heard with Gin. Leo sighed; a short, light sound. "I cannot tell you every details," he said, regret tainting his voice. "It would be better if you didn't know. But... I will accept the offer of tea." A departure from his usually preference for coffee but a welcome one. He looked across at Gin carefully, fingers tapping gently against the table. "I fear I've taken up too much of your time throughout those years. This... might be a problem you cannot solve even with time and your expertise."

❝ Is your life so meaningless that you beg for death? ❞ His gaze is heavy as he looked over him. Once, twice. Renoir has gommaged many people at this point. Death a constant companion. To many painters, the painted people are just dolls playing make believe. Erasing them was as natural as breathing. Erasing, painting, erasing again the painted worlds at their leisure.

Yet, for Renoir, he did not erase creations lightly. Despite their blood being of ink and paint, they had wills. There was a sentience to them. They cried, they created life, they grieved. There is a profound loss that hovered over this young man before him. Renoir knows not who he lost, but understands grief when he sees it. Perhaps too ---- it helped that he held a keen artist's eye.

No. He would not forsake anything that had lead him here. He had joined the expedition for a reason. His purpose was yet to be fulfilled. And yet--

Her blood was on his hands. She had asked it of him, and he had relented. But she was gone because of him. Stolen a year too soon. Ripped and torn from every frayed piece of him. And the others he'd yet to find them. Alan, their commander; Lune, their guiding light; Gustave, their spark of ingenuity. Every single one of them, likely snuffed out by this mans blade.

Leo stayed on his knees before him. he felt no desire to rise, his energy depleted. Yet at the older mans question, a flicker. An ignition, deep within, of indignant refusal. "We know the finality of death more the most," he said flatly. Anger simmered beneath the placid surface. "It is not complacency. It is intimacy."

"No, not at all! You look very nice."

"You've no need to be nervous," he assured her, "I'm certain all eyes will be on you for the right reasons." And he might have preferred it that way; less conversation for him to navigate. His eyes widened slightly as he realised how she might take his words. "B-but that's not to say everyone will be looking at you. I won't let them overwhelm you."