// i get a toothache every time i lie to someone i love //
The laugh that leaves him is a little more in earnest to Danta’s quip. It breaks in a slow breathy sound, one punctuated with the slight hiss of a growl to feel the marks left behind, completely pleased to bear a collar of his lover’s teeth for the coming days. His hands smooth up from shedding the clothes to drag those blunt nails against his sides, up from his hips to the back of his neck, fingertips threading through and tugging lightly at the blonde strands he finds at the nape of his neck.
Pinned so deliciously as he is, he can only adjust so much to help Danta slip the rest of his clothes off, loosening his hold in Danta’s hair temporarily when he carves the path down his chest and stomach. He shifts up a bit, propping up on his elbows to watch. The fresh warm air against his length is the first thing he notes with delight, completely ignoring the fact he nearly lost his pants to candlelit flame, if only so he can let his dark blackened gaze focus entirely on Danta’s face, the way the shadows play against the other man’s sharp cheekbones, the way the light flickers like crystals through his diamond horns, casting prism lights against the strands of wild gold.
“Mm, look at you.” He challenges back, his gaze glued to the scene before him of Danta’s lips pressed against the jut of his hip. He meets molten blues with the whole black of a predatory look blooming in Asta’s to greet him. And he very suddenly realizes there’s zero waiting for Danta to begin his worship. His tongue is perfectly hot against the tip of his cock and before he has a second to even register it — apart from the inhale of a breath of pleasure — the Maverick is taking him into the warm heat of his mouth.
His hips do rise, as if on command, twitching as he lets the moan pass his lips, his gaze stuttering closed for a moment before opening to watch the worship unfold, head sunk below his shoulders as he shifts to keep himself propped on one elbow, the other plunging into Danta’s golden hair. Not to tug or encourage just yet, just to feel, waiting for Danta to get the rhythm figured out.
Pinned so deliciously as he is, he can only adjust so much to help Danta slip the rest of his clothes off, loosening his hold in Danta’s hair temporarily when he carves the path down his chest and stomach. He shifts up a bit, propping up on his elbows to watch. The fresh warm air against his length is the first thing he notes with delight, completely ignoring the fact he nearly lost his pants to candlelit flame, if only so he can let his dark blackened gaze focus entirely on Danta’s face, the way the shadows play against the other man’s sharp cheekbones, the way the light flickers like crystals through his diamond horns, casting prism lights against the strands of wild gold.
“Mm, look at you.” He challenges back, his gaze glued to the scene before him of Danta’s lips pressed against the jut of his hip. He meets molten blues with the whole black of a predatory look blooming in Asta’s to greet him. And he very suddenly realizes there’s zero waiting for Danta to begin his worship. His tongue is perfectly hot against the tip of his cock and before he has a second to even register it — apart from the inhale of a breath of pleasure — the Maverick is taking him into the warm heat of his mouth.
His hips do rise, as if on command, twitching as he lets the moan pass his lips, his gaze stuttering closed for a moment before opening to watch the worship unfold, head sunk below his shoulders as he shifts to keep himself propped on one elbow, the other plunging into Danta’s golden hair. Not to tug or encourage just yet, just to feel, waiting for Danta to get the rhythm figured out.
Astaroth
// please just look me in my rotting smile and tell me i'm the only one you think of //
