/// come close to midnight, hell fade me down
and then my eyes got used to the darkness
and then my eyes got used to the darkness
Content to not find out whether or not they’d be battling the goddess’ ire, perhaps a show would be better suited for her. So he happily pushes Danta around until he can get him pinned, chuckling breathily to hear the huffed response, to feel his hands smooth out the crease in his waistcoat and shift to straighten the collar of his shirt.
A brow lifts curiously to hear the conspiratory whisper, leaning in a touch to ensure that the words are only for him (like anything else might overhear). The surprise is so horribly easy for Danta to see, the way his eyes widen a fraction, this close to him. But any words are mumbled beyond recognition with Danta’s lips that silence him. And the press of his hips keeps the butcher very well distracted.
Rather than responding vocally, he chooses to respond physically, with the swoop of his hands down Danta’s bare sides, snagging within the fabric of the shirt draped over his one shoulder. It doesn’t stop his intentions, though, not as his thumbs dip into the hollow of his hips, long fingers stretching out to splay along the jut of bone and the swell of flesh. He presses into the kiss harder, surging in like Danta’s his line of oxygen to breathe life into him, only parting when he thinks his lungs are about to collapse. It’s with warm panting breaths shared against his lover’s lips, the curl of his ashen spaded tail as it winds around Danta’s leg, that the butcher can surmise any kind of response. “Let us focus here first, mm?” As if for emphasis, the butcher tugs at Danta’s waistband, a cocky and arrogant grin on his face despite the panting.
A brow lifts curiously to hear the conspiratory whisper, leaning in a touch to ensure that the words are only for him (like anything else might overhear). The surprise is so horribly easy for Danta to see, the way his eyes widen a fraction, this close to him. But any words are mumbled beyond recognition with Danta’s lips that silence him. And the press of his hips keeps the butcher very well distracted.
Rather than responding vocally, he chooses to respond physically, with the swoop of his hands down Danta’s bare sides, snagging within the fabric of the shirt draped over his one shoulder. It doesn’t stop his intentions, though, not as his thumbs dip into the hollow of his hips, long fingers stretching out to splay along the jut of bone and the swell of flesh. He presses into the kiss harder, surging in like Danta’s his line of oxygen to breathe life into him, only parting when he thinks his lungs are about to collapse. It’s with warm panting breaths shared against his lover’s lips, the curl of his ashen spaded tail as it winds around Danta’s leg, that the butcher can surmise any kind of response. “Let us focus here first, mm?” As if for emphasis, the butcher tugs at Danta’s waistband, a cocky and arrogant grin on his face despite the panting.
Astaroth
and everyone that i knew,
was lost and so long forgotten after you ///
was lost and so long forgotten after you ///
