// no one wants a half remembered tragedy. You must know the width of the knife //
It’s a delicate balance that Asta walks, one that that’s made marginally harder with the lush press of his fingers through his hair. The focus of his body is entirely on the Maverick and each tell his body and voice give him, and with the curse and the moan the butcher’s lips quirk into a small and distracted smirk. It’s hidden up until Danta’s tilting his bearded chin up, surging forward with the next snap of his hips into the kiss that feels like second nature, like a breath deeply inhaled and needed far longer than you would think.
The way his name falls from his lips sounds more like a prayer than it does a warning — as though Asta cares much about the warning. Slow and indulgent and wanting to really enjoy this has the butcher humming his notes of praises alongside each movement of his hand and his hips, letting each one draw that tether tighter and tighter within him until it’ll eventually snap.
Before that, though, Danta’s surging up against him and Asta drops a touch down to press the flat of his hand up between his shoulder blades, more praise of his own accompanying the bliss Danta’s likely feeling while the tether narrows to something nearly nonexistent in the butcher’s chest. “Gods, Danta—” It’s a whole body tingle that greets him the second he bites the inside of his cheek and floods his mouth with blood, a growl exhaled from his nose as he surges in and presses bloodied kisses against the column of his lover’s neck as he cums, the briefest and barely there scrape of his teeth accompanying each kiss like he’s holding himself back well enough in spite of it before he’s angling up to claim Danta’s lips fully now, even if his lungs feel as though they’ll burn in the span of seconds.
The way his name falls from his lips sounds more like a prayer than it does a warning — as though Asta cares much about the warning. Slow and indulgent and wanting to really enjoy this has the butcher humming his notes of praises alongside each movement of his hand and his hips, letting each one draw that tether tighter and tighter within him until it’ll eventually snap.
Before that, though, Danta’s surging up against him and Asta drops a touch down to press the flat of his hand up between his shoulder blades, more praise of his own accompanying the bliss Danta’s likely feeling while the tether narrows to something nearly nonexistent in the butcher’s chest. “Gods, Danta—” It’s a whole body tingle that greets him the second he bites the inside of his cheek and floods his mouth with blood, a growl exhaled from his nose as he surges in and presses bloodied kisses against the column of his lover’s neck as he cums, the briefest and barely there scrape of his teeth accompanying each kiss like he’s holding himself back well enough in spite of it before he’s angling up to claim Danta’s lips fully now, even if his lungs feel as though they’ll burn in the span of seconds.
Astaroth
// and how it ruined you. Name the organs it kissed //
