love, do you want love?
do you want lust? say you don't know
do you want lust? say you don't know
It isn’t often that Asta feels as if he can get away bossing Danta around, but it’s times like these where it’s established that the butcher needs that certain amount of control (rd: most of it) that the taller Ancient really takes it and runs with it. His demand is a low throated purr, and he admires the smooth, beautiful back of the Maverick as he curves to comply. The sight is truly a thing to behold, evidenced by the snap of his hips, the way his tail tightens around Danta’s leg, the way his cry of pleasure echoes wickedly and deliciously against the wet stone walls.
“Very, very good, love.” He’s already a touch breathless, raining praise down onto the blonde Ancient in the form of verbal and physical praise. The hand that had been at his lips moves now, to slip out from under the arm that keeps him propped up against the side of the springs, down to the warmth of the water again before rising to toy with one of the blonde’s nipples, testing for the reaction. The rest of the butcher’s actions don’t stop either, not as his hips continue to snap a ruthless, breath snatching pace into the Maverick while the hand at his cock tightens into a pace to match the quick and deep pace he fucks him with. And with it, a low, saccharine tone to his voice, he admires and watches the way Danta’s body moves with each snap of his hips. “Gods, Dantalion, love—” A brief break as he pants a breath; voice impossibly more accented and huskier. “You are so perfect when you get wound up like this.”
“Very, very good, love.” He’s already a touch breathless, raining praise down onto the blonde Ancient in the form of verbal and physical praise. The hand that had been at his lips moves now, to slip out from under the arm that keeps him propped up against the side of the springs, down to the warmth of the water again before rising to toy with one of the blonde’s nipples, testing for the reaction. The rest of the butcher’s actions don’t stop either, not as his hips continue to snap a ruthless, breath snatching pace into the Maverick while the hand at his cock tightens into a pace to match the quick and deep pace he fucks him with. And with it, a low, saccharine tone to his voice, he admires and watches the way Danta’s body moves with each snap of his hips. “Gods, Dantalion, love—” A brief break as he pants a breath; voice impossibly more accented and huskier. “You are so perfect when you get wound up like this.”
Astaroth
maybe you just like the control
