// smile like you mean it //
He has a very tight hold over himself — though with his relatively recent bloodlust hunt and the fact it was a person — makes him relatively tame at this present moment. That, and she’s the Queen of Torchline. She’d saved his hide. She’d called down a goddess to heal him. All things she didn’t have to do, but chose to do anyway. “You and me both.” He practically purrs to her as her hands work against the scarring, the strength behind them noted even if they weren’t calloused or rough like one might expect given the power behind them.
The butcher does not harbor the same magic that Jack has, thankfully, so he’s unaware of her plans as they start to go into motion. More ointment, a more pointed spot picked above on a shoulder that has him nearly holding his breath in anticipation. Now, he truly does expect it to feel like the previous test massages, only when she starts to utilize both hands does Astaroth’s composure start to break little by little.
There’s a light haze that enters the butcher’s dark gaze, the way his body both tenses and relaxes, the way his tail immediately departs from flicking in the water to wind around her middle where the spaded end rests against her thigh, where both of his hands now abandon keeping his posture straightened in the effort of keeping her close to continue, there’s the grunt of sound that passes by his lips with a whispered curse. But there’s no pushing away, no attempts to try and hide the way her hands move both so devilishly and wonderfully.
For a man that has delved out a lot of pain in his life, it shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is for him that so long as true torture isn’t involved, he actually quite likes it. “I never thanked you, you know. Officially.After the tree ordeal.” His tone has taken on a grittier hum, broken up by the hitching of his breathing. “Now it seems I have multiple things to be thankful for.” Focusing a bit more, his warm hands splay against the small of her back, dark eyes focused somewhat intensely on her own aqua ones.
The butcher does not harbor the same magic that Jack has, thankfully, so he’s unaware of her plans as they start to go into motion. More ointment, a more pointed spot picked above on a shoulder that has him nearly holding his breath in anticipation. Now, he truly does expect it to feel like the previous test massages, only when she starts to utilize both hands does Astaroth’s composure start to break little by little.
There’s a light haze that enters the butcher’s dark gaze, the way his body both tenses and relaxes, the way his tail immediately departs from flicking in the water to wind around her middle where the spaded end rests against her thigh, where both of his hands now abandon keeping his posture straightened in the effort of keeping her close to continue, there’s the grunt of sound that passes by his lips with a whispered curse. But there’s no pushing away, no attempts to try and hide the way her hands move both so devilishly and wonderfully.
For a man that has delved out a lot of pain in his life, it shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is for him that so long as true torture isn’t involved, he actually quite likes it. “I never thanked you, you know. Officially.After the tree ordeal.” His tone has taken on a grittier hum, broken up by the hitching of his breathing. “Now it seems I have multiple things to be thankful for.” Focusing a bit more, his warm hands splay against the small of her back, dark eyes focused somewhat intensely on her own aqua ones.
Astaroth
// take a chance and you could seize it //
