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+---- Thread: mississippi boys, inner city boys (/showthread.php?tid=10156)
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Dantalion - 09-18-2024
Asta has long pushed Danta past the point where he's able to be witty or offer something sly in response, and if that's what makes him so perfect in this moment, so be it. Instead, letting out a shivering breath as he tries to keep his composure, the Maverick's knuckles grow white against the headboard as if to keep some flimsy self-control as the butcher's warm breath tickles across the length of him. [say]"Fuck--"[/say] he grates out as he finally feels the hot flick of his tongue, eyes hazy with lust as he gazes down at him.
It's true that having his arguably most sensitive asset bitten off is a recipe for disaster, and later Danta will be grateful for Asta's foresight. Now, though, as the other man takes him into his mouth, it's truly the beginning of the end for the Maverick. Never one to stifle his moans unless they're making a game of it, the curses and demands that leave his lips are as needy as any Asta might have heard at the Dusklight, only now they're spilling from Danta's lips instead.
[say]"Fuck, I'm close,"[/say] he hisses a warning, his hips snapping up quite without his permission and his hand tightening in Asta's hair.
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Astaroth - 09-18-2024
It is in fact the chorus of sounds he’s heard before, and only some have he ever heard leave Danta’s lips. Some are just as memorable from their other romps in the sheets, but it perhaps feels a bit different when the butcher isn’t drunk on the sensation of his own pleasure. No, this is merely a gift, his whole and undivided focus on trying to get the Maverick to crest into that floating abyss, satisfied and content.
And gods, is he surprisingly good at it, if the chorus has anything to say to him.
So he continues, humming notes of encouragement the second Danta’s warning reaches him, nearly choking with how he doesn’t anticipate the snap of his hips. But he recovers swiftly, hands moving to dig his fingertips into Danta’s hips and the curve of his ass, keeping him from surprising him or slicing himself against too sharp teeth.
Now wholly focused on the task at hand, his tongue lavishes him as his mouth does all of the work, already prepped for Danta’s climax to hit, watching with satisfaction already glittering in his dark eyes.
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Dantalion - 09-18-2024
[say]"Oh, gods--"[/say] Danta doesn't stand a fucking chance, not between the way the butcher handles him and the dark look in his eyes as he risks a glance down, and with his orgasm already thundering up through the backs of his thighs, he's heedless to stop it now. Thanks to the other man's quick thinking he's not at risk of doing harm to either of them, but as he first crests that edge into oblivion, he loses complete control over his glamour. It's with a groan that takes the shape of Asta's name that his tail lashes across the sheets, curled with pleasure, the diamond of his horns at risk of completely shredding the pillows he's arched back into.
There's nothing but static and pleasure and the lingering feel of Asta's mouth all around him, his fingers pulsing against him, and it has Danta wanting to recklessly rewind the past few minutes to do it all over again. With his chest heaving and a tension snapping in his body that has him feeling warm and weightless and exhausted, the Maverick moans a curse under his breath and finally releases the headboard with a creak. There are scorch marks left behind in the shape of his fingers, but he figures no one will notice. Right?
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Astaroth - 09-18-2024
That’s his intention, if he’s being honest. He wants to drag it out of him with claws, ripping if he has to. And he essentially does that as he feels the tension flood through Danta’s thighs, as the orgasm hits and the butcher hums a sound of satisfaction even as the glamour vanishes and the Maverick’s tail sweeps across the bed, the distinct sound of the diamond edges of Danta’s horns as they scrape against the pillows.
He drags everything he can out of the other Ancient, swallowing away any need for an immediate shower, only withdrawing when he’s sure that the Theocrat is well sated and comfortable. He draws himself back up to hover above the Maverick, taking in the scorch marks on the headboard, and with that too sharp grin on display does he finally let his own glamour fall.
Dark hair spills out of the way as pronged horns extend from his skull, the sharp teeth where his fangs would be, extend and shift impossibly sharper, his tail whips behind him briefly before it settles to intertwine with Danta’s own as he hauls himself up to blanket him again. “[say]Satisfied?[/say]” He asks breathlessly, voice a touch hoarse and heady, thick with his accent.
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Dantalion - 09-18-2024
Asta can judge for himself whether Danta is satisfied; he's certainly not in need of that cold shower any more, put it that way, but as the other man shifts into view, he's already reaching up to draw him into a kiss. His arms wind around the butcher with surprising care, his body running hotter than usual (and that's certainly saying something for an Ancient), his tail flicking contently where it twines with the Asta's in the sheets.
[say]"Mm, now I am,"[/say] Danta rumbles when he eventually parts from his lips, his hands greedy for the butcher's body, running down the length of his back only to curl around him once more, holding onto him. [say]"Gods, you fucking outdid yourself,"[/say] he continues, huffing out a near disbelieving laugh and turning his head to kiss the side of Asta's neck. [say]"That was incredible."[/say]
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Astaroth - 09-18-2024
He’s more than willing to angle down to catch Danta’s lips in a kiss, head tilted enough that his horns don’t add to the marks already burnt into the headboard. And he takes the opportunity to press in against Danta, blanketing him again and wrapping his arms around his neck, content to remain there, soaking up the extra heat radiating from the Maverick, the sensation of the hands that carefully wind around him to draw him closer.
The kiss breaks, and he hums a dark laugh, letting Danta curl around him in turn. “[say]Ah, do not say that. Then I will have to try harder next time.[/say]” He drawls, flaring a slightly playful annoyance as his tail flicks against the bed, still tangled up with the other Ancient’s. His head tilts to offer all the space needed for Danta’s kiss to press in against his throat, and he closes his eyes to focus extra on the feeling of it. “[say]I’m glad, darling.[/say]” He admits in a quieter tone.
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Dantalion - 09-18-2024
[say]"Don't say that, or I'll let you,"[/say] Danta warns, the words muffled against Asta's throat where he'll be able to feel the Maverick's smirk. Shifting enough that he might be able to bury his face in the crook of the other man's neck and batting at the sheets until he can find the blankets to drag back over them, clearly Danta is well into the post-orgasmic bliss and exhaustion part of his night, and he's ferrying Asta along for the ride.
[say]"Not as glad as I am,"[/say] he teases, grinning up at him and letting long fingers stroke out an idle rhythm against the scars that stripe across his back. [say]"I wonder if there's any healing out there that would fade these for you,"[/say] he wonders, almost to himself. He doubts it - what's done is done - and he doesn't even know if Asta would want it at this point. But he can't help but be curious.
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Astaroth - 09-18-2024
Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. Maybe next time Astaroth will be too blinded by his own bliss that he’ll conveniently forget to outdo himself. Only time would tell.
For now, though, he’s content to let Danta battle with the blankets without help (the butcher has done plenty, as far as he’s concerned). And only when the warmth of them spreads over his hips and lower back does Asta fully sink into the warmth. He nearly doesn’t find it in him to respond, letting the exhaustion of vacation and dragging pleasure from the other man lull him partially away. But it’s the next statement Danta makes that Astaroth focuses on, called back from the brink of sleep.
“[say]Mm? Oh.[/say]” Feeling the gentle traces of fingers along his skin, Asta nuzzles into Danta’s touch more. “[say]Flora had this oil of sorts she used on them.[/say]” He says, trying to recall that time (it had been their first date, if memory serves.) “[say]It did not fade them as much, but it did soften them. I am sure there is magic of some kind out here that would.[/say]” Even Dygra might be willing to do such a thing, and the thought is nearly just as tempting as any other ideas sparked from pre-bedtime relaxation. “[say]I don’t know if I would regain as much feeling even if they were faded.[/say]” He says now that he’s thinking about it. The scar tissue had been a strong barrier for nerve endings (whichever ones that hadn’t been damaged, that is). And while he could feel touch and sensation quite strongly elsewhere, his chest feels deadened. Like trying to poke and prod through jean and leather layers. Still there, but not as sharp, not as immediately distracting.
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Dantalion - 09-18-2024
[say]"Oh, she did?"[/say] Danta raises his eyebrows at that, his smile momentarily lilting towards something wicked, before he remembers himself - and exactly how those dates with Flora had gone, and how he'd ended up feeling a mess about it. [say]"Maybe I should get some. You can start a little medicine cabinet with it along with your sedatives."[/say] Tilting his head up to press a gentle kiss against the underside of Asta's jaw, the Maverick's hand skims across a particularly nasty scar, his brow furrowing a little.
[say]"I don't think I ever realised how much feeling you lost,"[/say] he mumbles, slipping a hand around to press it against Asta's scarred chest. It hasn't exactly been a common topic of discussion; that's more been centred around the creatures who caused the scarring in the first place. [say]"At least the Dusklight - and I - happen to think that scars are sexy."[/say] A small consolation, but it's something, he supposes.
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Astaroth - 09-18-2024
“[say]She did, indeed.[/say]” He confirms, before a puffed out groan leaves him at the idea of a medicine cabinet, internally cringing at the thought even if it was a very good idea. “[say]Ugh. I would rather not lean into the imagery of becoming old.[/say]” Comes the soft whine, a frown tugging at his lips even as they stay pressed against Danta wherever he can. “[say]It is bad enough that I turn forty this year.[/say]” And yes, he’s not including the centuries asleep. He’s simply nixed those from his age to make himself feel better.
Feeling the dull sensation of Danta’s hands slip over a particularly nasty scar, he shifts enough that his hand can press against the webbed scars of his chest, before he’s tilting his head and adjusting to be able to peer down at Danta a touch easier, even if it means bunching the pillows. “[say]As much as I despise them, I feel as if I wouldn’t be me without them?[/say]” It’s why his typical preference was to keep them hidden. He doesn’t want the reminder at the best of times, at least when people asked about them.
For the most part the Dusklight has remained silent, and for that he’s grateful.
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Dantalion - 09-18-2024
[say]"Old? As if,"[/say] Danta says through a snort, his words half muffled against the side of Asta's neck. Clearly the Maverick gives not two fucks about what it means to get older or how people perceive it - in fact, to hear that Asta turns forty is far from horrifying. It's just another milestone, in Danta's opinion, and one worth celebrating, such that the butcher will feel his grin against his throat long before he peers up at him. [say]"You do not,"[/say] he hisses, as if the other man is playing with him. [say]"When, exactly? You weren't going to let it slip by without comment, were you?"[/say]
Leaning back enough for Asta to look down at him in turn, the Maverick's smile fades, at least, as conversation returns to the deep scarring across his chest and back and shoulders. [say]"Mm, I'm inclined to agree. You've definitely grown into them,"[/say] he murmurs. [say]"That being said, though, they don't make you as a person,"[/say] he adds, leaning up on purpose to plant a kiss against the butcher's cheek and his temple, far away from his scars. [say]"I think that honour belongs to your sharp teeth,"[/say] he teases.
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Astaroth - 09-18-2024
Oh he does feel the curve of the grin, and he elects to ignore it until Danta’s mischief is heavy in his voice and the butcher already regrets bringing it up. “[say]I let my thirty ninth pass without so much of a comment.[/say]” He drawls as if it had entirely been his intention to do the very same for this one, too. It was just a day like anything else. He wasn’t about to change that (himself, at least). “[say]Deepfrost. A few days before LongNight, if you must know the specifics.[/say]” Because he knows Danta would want nothing more than to know the exact date if he could, even if Astaroth is already dreading it.
Nuzzling into the press of Danta’s lips to his temple and his cheek, he huffs a soft laugh and squeezes the other Ancient a bit closer. “[say]I have had these longer, at least.[/say]” His teeth — the coming of age ceremony for Whitebrim at the time of his particular sect of cannibals. “[say]I think I would actually die if my teeth were normal.[/say]” He announces, dropping back into full dramatics, voice dropping into the whine of even having to think about such a thing.
He’s careful to not trace his teeth with his tongue despite wanting to, if only so he doesn’t slice his already sore tongue.
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Dantalion - 09-19-2024
[say]"Of course I must know the specifics,"[/say] Danta says, the words hissed gleefully against the other man's hair as he hooks a leg around him, as if worried he's going to get up and remove his weight and warmth from the bed. [say]"A few days before Longnight? Noted. In exchange, I celebrate my birthday during Flowerbirth. Never found out what date, but it's in that season, so I just choose a nice day and get myself something nice."[/say] It's how it's always been for Danta, though granted, over the past couple of years his scope of something nice has grown exponentially.
Snorting at Asta's next comment, the Maverick raises his eyebrows skeptically. [say]"You would die?"[/say] he drawls, tone heavy with doubt. [say]"You're so fucking dramatic."[/say] And no one has ever sounded more enamored by it, one of Danta's hands snaking up to pitter-patter over the butcher's lips. (He's not quite stupid enough to prick his fingers against those sharp teeth; not tonight, anyway). [say]"Did it not hurt?"[/say] he asks curiously.
RE: mississippi boys, inner city boys - Astaroth - 09-19-2024
Luckily for Danta, the butcher isn’t intending on going anywhere — not with the superheated body he blankets, soaking up and craving the warmth like a lizard on a heat rock. So he settles, once he’s in a position to flash those sharp teeth at the blonde, absorbing the information regarding Danta’s birthday. Flowerbirth. Easy enough. “[say]Well, please do inform me of what day you choose for the birthday coming up and we could do something nice.[/say]” He suggests, before his smile slants a touch mischievously. “[say]I have never once celebrated my birthday.[/say]”
As for his teeth and those particular dramatics, Danta will feel the rumble of the butcher’s laugh before it spills from his lips, vibrating through him even as he remains still for Danta’s fingers to press against his lips, showing off the pale yet sharp additions. He waits to answer until his fingers are out of slicing radius, though. “[say]It did for some of them. It mostly felt strange. I think I was… thirteen? It was our rite of passage. There was a large celebration and then I got strapped to a chair and a file taken to them.[/say]” He hums, prodding at the back of one of his incisors with his sore tongue. “[say]When it was done we had our first chance to truly sink our teeth into someth—someone.[/say]” He nearly catches himself hiding his preferences as he’s had to do, but realizing halfway through the word that he doesn’t need to hide it.