reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
“Or maybe they just aren’t you.” And gods if that isn’t just a loaded answer, fluffing up the butcher’s ego and possessiveness. Does he mean precisely that Astaroth knows what kind of things Danta can handle? Or does it mean that there’s that other spark, that it someone else did try to do this, they wouldn’t get the Maverick to react quite the same?
Those thoughts are ones that thankfully don’t linger in the butcher’s mind too long, not with the press of Danta’s heels into his lower back and the plea that leaves the blonde, giving Astaroth more fire to the one burning within him to turn into an inferno. It’s evident in how his hips stutter, like the compliments and pleading have more of an affect on him than anticipated, and he grants a boon for the Maverick as he releases Danta’s hands, placing the one that had pinned the other Ancient’s wrists by his head as he pants and groans with each thrust and simultaneous stroke of his hand against the other man’s length.
Dragging bloodied lips up to Danta’s jeweled ear, a husky and deeper sound leaves him in a panted breath of cockiness, “please what, Danta, darling?” Without waiting for a response, the butcher’s hand moves faster, as if trying to drag Danta closer to the edge, trying to pull him into an overwhelming moment of thoughtlessness and bliss as he continues to push at Danta’s body with his roughness.
Those thoughts are ones that thankfully don’t linger in the butcher’s mind too long, not with the press of Danta’s heels into his lower back and the plea that leaves the blonde, giving Astaroth more fire to the one burning within him to turn into an inferno. It’s evident in how his hips stutter, like the compliments and pleading have more of an affect on him than anticipated, and he grants a boon for the Maverick as he releases Danta’s hands, placing the one that had pinned the other Ancient’s wrists by his head as he pants and groans with each thrust and simultaneous stroke of his hand against the other man’s length.
Dragging bloodied lips up to Danta’s jeweled ear, a husky and deeper sound leaves him in a panted breath of cockiness, “please what, Danta, darling?” Without waiting for a response, the butcher’s hand moves faster, as if trying to drag Danta closer to the edge, trying to pull him into an overwhelming moment of thoughtlessness and bliss as he continues to push at Danta’s body with his roughness.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
