lord help anyone who stands in my way; for I am not merciful, and i am not kind
and i am not afraid to make you wish that i was
and i am not afraid to make you wish that i was
Half of him wants to utter a mmhm to the whispered defense, but his actions say it loud enough for the Maverick to know – especially as he rises and so slowly slips out of the rest of his clothes, folding his pants to prolong out the moment, stubbornly and tauntingly, even the cursed affection is heard. A low rumble of a laugh slips from him, that sharp grin back on display as he rumbles a “I know” before he’s returning to Danta’s embrace, indulging in the wisps of fire at his fingertips, feeling it curl against his skin in sharp blips of heat.
His breath hitches when they meet again, when Danta’s moan fills his senses, and his tail slides against the blonde’s side to slip under him, the flattened portion of his spaded tail pressing against the small of his back as the butcher indulges in the multitude of kisses pressed to the underside of his jaw. “That is precisely what I was hoping for.” Comes the quiet admission, tilting his horned head slightly to press his lips to the blonde’s temple, trailing down along the jut of his cheekbone as he lines them up and one hand slips back up to tangle into Danta’s blonde, twisting slightly to gently tug his head to the side so that he can trail his lips toward his neck, where Asta can feel his heartbeat with the press of his lips.
Perhaps a part of him wants to feel it begin to thunder beneath his kiss as he indulges Danta. Perhaps a part of him wants the full, strong scent of sage and citrus that blooms amongst the underlying current of smoke from the bonfire earlier. Whatever the reason, the butcher keeps his lips pressed there, even as his breath hitches again as he starts to slowly press his hips against Danta’s, his cock throbbing hard as he enters him, well enough restrained and collected to keep the pressure slow and even, patiently waiting for the rise of the Maverick's heartbeat beneath his lips.
His breath hitches when they meet again, when Danta’s moan fills his senses, and his tail slides against the blonde’s side to slip under him, the flattened portion of his spaded tail pressing against the small of his back as the butcher indulges in the multitude of kisses pressed to the underside of his jaw. “That is precisely what I was hoping for.” Comes the quiet admission, tilting his horned head slightly to press his lips to the blonde’s temple, trailing down along the jut of his cheekbone as he lines them up and one hand slips back up to tangle into Danta’s blonde, twisting slightly to gently tug his head to the side so that he can trail his lips toward his neck, where Asta can feel his heartbeat with the press of his lips.
Perhaps a part of him wants to feel it begin to thunder beneath his kiss as he indulges Danta. Perhaps a part of him wants the full, strong scent of sage and citrus that blooms amongst the underlying current of smoke from the bonfire earlier. Whatever the reason, the butcher keeps his lips pressed there, even as his breath hitches again as he starts to slowly press his hips against Danta’s, his cock throbbing hard as he enters him, well enough restrained and collected to keep the pressure slow and even, patiently waiting for the rise of the Maverick's heartbeat beneath his lips.
Astaroth
say your prayers now
