luci
he/they
30
jan 30
hearthome, sinnoh
pansexual
sculptor/painter
civilian
high achiever, don't you see? baby, nothing comes for free.
TAG WITH @luci
luciano fisk
breaking dishes
POSTED ON Nov 12, 2024 10:16:08 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","pilotsb luci"] [attr="class","top"] [attr="class","topimage"] [attr="class","subtextbox"] [attr="class","lyrics"] you're my heaven and i'm your hell [attr="class","border"] [attr="class","postbox"] jealous.[break][break] such a word does not even begin to describe the emotions that devastate @luciano as he aims to ravage paxton concordas like an unrelenting sea. neither do words like anger or resentment or hate. such emotions are beneath him. what drives him is something darker, deeper: an ache that burns through him, the knowledge that paxton concordas will forever hold a place in luciano fisk 's heart, no matter how hard he denies it. [break][break] the understanding that the feelings may never be returned. that paxton concordas will leave him as he once did before — across another ocean, across a thousand seas. even worse, across threads of time that he is not meant to trespass, because for whatever reason this version of concord seems unattainable now — untethered to him the way that he was before. [break][break] for luciano is certain. [break][break] concord would have never betrayed him like this. concord would not have ever kissed another man, not willingly, if he knew that luciano was waiting at home for him. [break][break] eyes flit up to the other man's, a fiery mixture of lust and unspent resentment simmering beneath sapphire jewels. [break][break] his hand moves lower, gripping the other with urgency. lips trail over heated skin, leaving bruising marks that were meant to survive the next day. he flicks his tongue, a thrill rushing through him at the sound of the other's moans, sweet and effortless, like a songbird's refrain. [break][break] it is a similar joy to the way he feels for brushstrokes across a canvas, of the feeling when his hands shape marble, carving a form from raw stone. [break][break] suddenly, without warning, luci slips himself free from the other's embrace. he grabs him, yanking him towards the couch. cushions made of white, expensive velvet yield beneath them as the artist climbs atop his lover. [break][break] "so look at me," he murmurs lowly, grabbing his jaw. his fingers dig into cheekbones, forcing their eyes to meet. with no further preparation, he brings them together as they were destined to be. "look at me, concord."[break][break] "and never look away."[break] [attr="class","oocnotes"] paxton concordas [attr="class","morenotes"] [attr="class","icon-candy2"] post-league party
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