((A/N: This is little more than silly, smutty little bits of Laven. It isn't even a story, really. Just some pretty-sounding words from Lavi and Allen's points of view.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own DGM. Just like to write about it~))
A DGM FanFiction by Whiteface Spades
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Chapter 1: Sugar
Allen Walker and I haven't been together for very long, but I already know so many little things about him that I would need an entire day to explain them all. His soft, gentle nature and innocent quirks belie seductive intent and almost animalistic passion. Reluctant as he is to be intimate with me, once his fire is ignited there is no extinguishing it.
In typical Allen fashion, he has found some sort of food to liken our union to: cinnamon sugar. I am, apparently, the 'cinnamon' that he craves; and to me, he is our sugar. His beautiful smile, his soft hair, his sparkling silver eyes…everything about him is crystalline, smooth, and sinfully sweet. I have never experienced anything quite like his kiss, his touch, or the feeling of his smooth skin against mine…all white, luscious, wonderful.
I love him. I love the feeling of his slender waist between my forearms or in my hands while we sway back and forth to the music in his head; his delicate hands digging well-manicured nails into my skin when I make love to him; and his soft voice whispering in my ear while we lay together after hours of intense pleasure. All of him is as sweet as sugar.
God, I need him. To think that I had ever considered a woman over him makes me laugh; he is so beautiful, so perfect, so…sacchariferous (couldn't resist dipping into my Bookman vocabulary). No woman could ever be this way. I fall on my knees every day only to worship that sweet, sinful body of his. Everything he is consists of that sweetness, right down to the sweat that drips from his forehead when he rides me. The soft promises that fly from his lips; the way my name sounds tumbling off his tongue when I push deeper into him; and those naïve touches along my shoulders, face, and back as we calm our racing heartbeats…all these little things give even more syrupy sweetness to our relationship.
To me, no spice is needed: I can live on his sweet nature alone.
It's a rant that I just…can't stop giving. Allen Walker is sweeter than any candy, pastry, dessert, or drink. His soft voice is more wonderful than the sweetest tea. Gazing into his star-lit silver eyes is more rewarding than the cream-filled center of an éclair. His beautiful white hair smells sweeter than spun sugar…and every flick of my tongue along his slick cock sends the smallest sparks of sugar dancing along my tastebuds. His beautiful moans and soft, sweet pants are more food for my existence, fueling the fire that ignites in me each time our bodies touch. Even the smallest kiss can push me over the edge, driving me to make us unite in some small way; I must be assuaged. I can't staunch the desire to taste that sweetness in his saliva, his words, his skin, and his touch.
This boy is all that I need to survive. Allen Walker is the sweetest creature on earth.