we thieves and lovers will keep up our urges to sin, to sin
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
It’s funny, because while Danta might be surprised and swooning at the idea of being on his arm, it’s precisely the opposite for the butcher. He’s his shadow, the one that always lingers close and watchful with that charming, unholy obsession. What a pair they do make, where each of them stand in bewilderment that they get to be on each other’s arm.
Ah, but those charming thoughts are for Deepfrost Asta, because right now he’s too focused on the feel of Danta against his skin, the way his hand at his throat can feel the hitch of his breath and the beat of his pulse as it quickens, the nearly there vibration that dissolves before it can fully take root.
The Maverick does as is requested, though, and sinks down to his knees and finds the brilliantly sharp grin aimed at him from where he hovers above. It’s temporary, and Danta will find that it is to his liking as he follows him down, one knee popping as he catches the beautiful blues of Danta’s gaze, the drag of his tongue across his teeth that has the butcher’s blood burning hotter. He situates himself between Danta’s legs, his hands smoothing up his back and sides, flaring brilliantly hot fire along his spine to caress his torso and neck, crafting a little collar of heat around his neck as he uses it as a distraction. “Gods, Dantalion, you are perfect.” He purrs in a rougher, accented tone, lining them up properly but not sinking in just yet. Just deep enough to drive him crazy, knowing fully well Danta would sink back the moment he could.
Ah, but those charming thoughts are for Deepfrost Asta, because right now he’s too focused on the feel of Danta against his skin, the way his hand at his throat can feel the hitch of his breath and the beat of his pulse as it quickens, the nearly there vibration that dissolves before it can fully take root.
The Maverick does as is requested, though, and sinks down to his knees and finds the brilliantly sharp grin aimed at him from where he hovers above. It’s temporary, and Danta will find that it is to his liking as he follows him down, one knee popping as he catches the beautiful blues of Danta’s gaze, the drag of his tongue across his teeth that has the butcher’s blood burning hotter. He situates himself between Danta’s legs, his hands smoothing up his back and sides, flaring brilliantly hot fire along his spine to caress his torso and neck, crafting a little collar of heat around his neck as he uses it as a distraction. “Gods, Dantalion, you are perfect.” He purrs in a rougher, accented tone, lining them up properly but not sinking in just yet. Just deep enough to drive him crazy, knowing fully well Danta would sink back the moment he could.
Astaroth
if you want me all to yourself, then take on the leap
