so what, my friend, whatever will it be?
i can give you what you crave, just not for free
i can give you what you crave, just not for free
“Shhhhh,” Asta insists, punctuating it with a light squeeze around Danta’s hips. A laugh bubbles out of him on the end of it, though, still radiating bliss and amusement by the entire ordeal. So much so that in the close space between them, he does admit in a quiet whisper; “I do think I learned a few things about myself, actually.” He rests his bearded jaw against Danta’s head ever so lightly, horns back out and on display, casting a larger, longer shadow behind him.
Nodding just enough to get the point across and not impede the way the Maverick kisses up his jawline. “I would love that.” It comes out in an honest breath, the butcher’s muscles tightening beneath the blonde as if he’s preparing to break through the serenity his bones finally feel if only to carry the Maverick to the ocean.
So he starts to do just that, carefully situating them enough to let Danta hang onto his shoulders, uncaring about the scars on his back that will be on display the second they slip out from the cover of the parasol. “Ready?” He asks without waiting for an answer before he’s hoisting the blonde up and against his chest, standing enough to let the blood return to his legs, before he’s ignoring absolutely everything and everyone for the siren call of the ocean and the thin blonde within his arms.
Nodding just enough to get the point across and not impede the way the Maverick kisses up his jawline. “I would love that.” It comes out in an honest breath, the butcher’s muscles tightening beneath the blonde as if he’s preparing to break through the serenity his bones finally feel if only to carry the Maverick to the ocean.
So he starts to do just that, carefully situating them enough to let Danta hang onto his shoulders, uncaring about the scars on his back that will be on display the second they slip out from the cover of the parasol. “Ready?” He asks without waiting for an answer before he’s hoisting the blonde up and against his chest, standing enough to let the blood return to his legs, before he’s ignoring absolutely everything and everyone for the siren call of the ocean and the thin blonde within his arms.
Astaroth
you know what's on the line
