// once you're in my shining cathedral, heed the tolling bell //
“Me wound up, in particular.” The butcher hums with that cocky, knowing smirk, the sharp flare of his teeth only slightly on display as he very much winds the Maverick up – teasing and taunting in the ways that he’s learned how precisely it drove Danta crazy. Little did he realize that while he works quite well at being a menace, that it had the direct results of what he wanted to hear so quickly.
Perhaps Danta’s catching on?
He sees the glare, the wicked promise of some kind of retribution that he finds himself quite curious to find, but as the plea leaves Danta, it works quite well. Flashing a too sharp grin toward Danta, the butcher moves all at once, like a cat pouncing on its prey. He reaches out, lifting Danta’s hips slightly as he spreads his legs underneath his lover’s legs, before he hovers back over the blonde. “Have I become this predictable?” Comes the dramatic whine, even as he gives in. One hand finds Danta’s length again, this time the pace is faster, the grip tighter, winding him up enough that he can press the tip of his own cock against Danta’s entrance. His other hand snakes up the Maverick’s chest, cupping his cheek and pressing his thumb lightly against the underside of his jaw to tilt his head up to steal a kiss (or to muffle the retort).
Perhaps Danta’s catching on?
He sees the glare, the wicked promise of some kind of retribution that he finds himself quite curious to find, but as the plea leaves Danta, it works quite well. Flashing a too sharp grin toward Danta, the butcher moves all at once, like a cat pouncing on its prey. He reaches out, lifting Danta’s hips slightly as he spreads his legs underneath his lover’s legs, before he hovers back over the blonde. “Have I become this predictable?” Comes the dramatic whine, even as he gives in. One hand finds Danta’s length again, this time the pace is faster, the grip tighter, winding him up enough that he can press the tip of his own cock against Danta’s entrance. His other hand snakes up the Maverick’s chest, cupping his cheek and pressing his thumb lightly against the underside of his jaw to tilt his head up to steal a kiss (or to muffle the retort).
Astaroth
// it's the final sound you hear as you descend to hell //
