we thieves and lovers will keep up our urges to sin, to sin
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
It is a rare thing for Asta to give up this much control – but it is the Maverick’s birthday, and so it’s truly a cherry on top of everything else so far. But it isn’t as if the butcher isn’t benefitting from it either – flushed and content to be however Danta wishes him to be in this precise moment, it’s amongst familiar furs and a comfortable blanket that Asta moans a low and rough sound right into Danta’s kiss as he’s filled completely.
It's a hitch of his breath and a rough pant after that accompanies the few seconds after, fingers twitching against the blonde strands before they push further through to drag blunt nails along the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades as Danta presses his kisses – so unfortunately chaste but beautifully sweet – against his lips and the corner of his mouth. His arms loosen when Danta draws back, a rush of air sucked into Asta’s throat, long leg hitched up perfectly for him to sink into him again, and with it the arch of the butcher’s scarred back and another moan escapes him rather than being able to respond right away.
He takes the position to grind his hips down against Danta further, which sparks the fleeting electricity through his veins as his hands – forgotten about temporarily with the pleasure sparking through him – drags those blunt nails down the other man’s chest in a slow and reverent movement. “Technically one, darling.” Comes the breathless purr, the air of cockiness that returns to him as he settles again, sucking in a breath. “But there – mm – are other days of cele-celebration, no?” Broken up by the moans that escape him, the butcher doesn’t seem all that upset about the interference of his words. Especially given how incredible Danta feels against him and within him.
It's a hitch of his breath and a rough pant after that accompanies the few seconds after, fingers twitching against the blonde strands before they push further through to drag blunt nails along the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades as Danta presses his kisses – so unfortunately chaste but beautifully sweet – against his lips and the corner of his mouth. His arms loosen when Danta draws back, a rush of air sucked into Asta’s throat, long leg hitched up perfectly for him to sink into him again, and with it the arch of the butcher’s scarred back and another moan escapes him rather than being able to respond right away.
He takes the position to grind his hips down against Danta further, which sparks the fleeting electricity through his veins as his hands – forgotten about temporarily with the pleasure sparking through him – drags those blunt nails down the other man’s chest in a slow and reverent movement. “Technically one, darling.” Comes the breathless purr, the air of cockiness that returns to him as he settles again, sucking in a breath. “But there – mm – are other days of cele-celebration, no?” Broken up by the moans that escape him, the butcher doesn’t seem all that upset about the interference of his words. Especially given how incredible Danta feels against him and within him.
Astaroth
if you want me all to yourself, then take on the leap
