[SE] honey i'm taking no orders

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

"I like seeing you work," Danta corrects, a shiver running through him from the heat of the other man's hands against his skin. Whether it's brooding in some shadowy corner as he watches the Dusklight, systematically breaking bones and flaying skin or, yes, making cookies, he could spend hours watching Asta go about his day at this point, doing little more than watching with idle fascination as the butcher navigates the world.

Inhaling a soft breath, both to hear the quiet demand in Asta's tone and the momentary patter of feet outside the store room, Danta's eyes flick back up to the other man's face like molten steel, his arms slipping around his shoulders. "Gods," he whispers, as if he might find strength from them, though the almost defeated smile that curls across his lips tells that he's lost this fight before even stepping into the proverbial ring.

Hissing a soft curse at the roll of Asta's hips against the aching pressure between them, whilst some might expect Danta to surge forward for devouring kisses and pawing hands at this point, as he leans in, his lips brush against the butcher's with almost painstaking gentleness. "Turn around, against the door," he whispers, figuring that no one can very well walk in on them if he's fucking Asta against it.

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

“Ah, is that it?” He drawls, amusement coating his words like a worn jacket. But as Danta inhales that soft breath and Astaroth clings to it while the shiver races down his spine, tail flicking against a crate with a quiet thump, he makes his point known. A point in which he has been listening. And that he also is allowing himself, despite how much he says he trusts him, to prove it by handing over the control.

A huge step for the control freak he is.

His hands slide up again to hold him close as Danta’s arms slip around his neck, his shark toothed smile blooming a touch more genuine and excited at the prospect. Danta hasn’t denied him yet, and for that he runs with it. Offering up whatever encouragement he can and thriving with the rush that paints his cheeks and his emotions when his lover leans in, only for it to not be a kiss he’s sure is incoming, but a demand. His tail curls in delight and he slowly withdraws his hands, obliging him without a fight for the moment, twisting to face the door and brace against it with his arms, tail sweeping out behind him.

The sounds of the kitchen are louder here, not that he minds. His hands splay against the wood comfortably and it’s with eager anticipation that he waits for his lover to make the first move. “Have me.” The butcher purrs over his shoulder.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

Dygra help him, because the sight of Asta complying with his wishes without so much as a teasing look is enough all on its own to have a plume of dark heat unfurling in his belly. Huffing out a shuddering breath and running his hands through his fair hair as if to ground himself, Danta glances back up in time to catch the coy look over the butcher's shoulder, the purring demand for him, and he all but groans as the very last of his self-control crumbles to nothing.

A soft shift of fabric heralds the drop of his shirt onto a nearby crate, the Maverick ghosting up behind Asta and using warm, sure fingers to mimic the movement on the other man. It isn't just because he wants - needs - to have his hands all over his bare skin; the lick of flame dancing up the length of Asta's back proves that their clothes would also likely become a fire hazard if not.

"Just say the word and I'll stop," he murmurs; he's not oblivious to the privilege of this role reversal, especially when considering the Maverick's own dark impulses and sudden flares of brutality when handed the reins. But Asta trusts him, and Danta trusts himself now as well, and his touch, when it comes, is surprisingly gentle against the butcher's skin.

Leaning in, he presses a soft kiss to the back of his neck, mouth hot with need, his hands grazing down scarred shoulders and across his torso to his hips, where he unbuckles belt and buttons and provides some relief against the pressure tenting the front of Asta's pants. "Touch yourself," he invites in a whisper, raising a brow as someone drops something out in the kitchen beyond the door, allowing himself an amused smile.

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

It’s different from the last time. They know each other more, they love each other openly now. There’s no cuffs and restraints in sight, just Danta harboring the leash of the butcher who complies so easily it’s both odd and beautiful. And he is wholly, fully, at the Maverick’s whim.

He can hear the sighing of fabric, the flickering shadow of his lover as the shirt is deposited on a nearby crate, and having focused so much on that without seeing Danta approach, the second warm fingers race up his skin beneath his shirt a shiver dances down his spine. “I trust you, darling.” It’s a quiet purr, a warm and deep hum as he continues to remain braced against the wooden door, listening to both the sounds outside of it and his lover’s voice.

Warmth bursts from the back of his neck from the kiss, the flush framed by the ends of long hair curling above the tops of his shoulders and back. A shivery breath leaves him to feel the pressure relieved, and to hear the invitation offered. He obliges, paired with his own amused smirk to hear something drop outside of the door and the series of curses that trail after it.

One is his own, with the quiet “fuck,” that escapes him as his hand strokes his length into fullness, sparking more of the warm flush to his bronzed skin.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

"And I don't take that for granted," Danta murmurs against the back of Asta's neck, punctuating the statement with another soft kiss even as he frees the butcher from the confines of his pants, shifting back just enough to deal with his own buttons. Biting his lower lip hard enough to bring a bead of blood to the surface at the sight of Asta pleasuring himself, the Maverick has to think hard about patience and delayed gratification and all sorts of other boring things as he glances around the storeroom.

Given that they're in the kitchens, it doesn't take long for him to find something suitable to use as lubricant (and if they both smell like coconut oil for the foreseeable future, so be it), Danta leaning in to brush a bloody kiss against Asta's shoulder before he's pressing himself altogether closer to the butcher. One hand reaches out to cover the other man's against the door, ringed fingers glinting in the dim light, the other grasping his hip as he teases himself in.

It's Danta's turn to curse softly as he tries to school himself on restraint, his movements slow and almost careful as he thrusts forward until he can go no further, leaving him panting softly against the crook of Asta's neck. "How's this?"

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

He’s glad that Danta doesn’t take it for granted, and he indulges in the warmth that spiders out against his neck with another hot punctuating kiss. It’s a perfect combination to guide him into working himself up; not that he hasn’t already, given that Danta had held the reins of that since the chocolatey blood kiss.

He feels the cold seep in from the departure of the Maverick, but it’s only momentary. His hand slows in the process, not wanting to be too much like a livewire until he’s back. The scent of coconut fills the air and the hand braced against the door spreads a touch more before he’s finding himself suddenly overwhelmed. The warm kiss to his shoulder and his scarred back blanketed again, his hand covered by one with glittering rings, and suddenly the warmth and distraction felt as Danta presses in, the butchers hand remaining that slow languid place if only to relish in the moment as another quiet curse escapes him.

His heartbeat begins to roar and he shivers delightfully, humming a deep and satisfied “good, darling.” He continues to work himself up as well, now with less of the distraction previously, only focusing on keeping his voice down as he continues to hear the business of the kitchens. He consciously remains doing exactly what was asked of him, though, not wanting to take any of it away from Danta’s control.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

Able to feel the bump of Asta's pulse against his lips, Danta is suddenly keenly aware of why the butcher so thoroughly enjoys burying his teeth in his neck, and while he has no intention of doing the same, he does spend a moment relishing in the thunder of blood beneath his skin. Leaving a kiss that will mark his throat instead, as if in reward to hear the purr of approval rumble out of him, his fingers flex ever so slightly against Asta's hips.

Self-control was already in very short supply before they found themselves in this position, and as Danta rocks forward again, it's about all he can do not to tangle his fingers in the back of Asta's hair and fuck him to oblivion. Perhaps another time; for now he keeps his pace steady (for now being the key part), biting back his moan given how close the kitchens are through the door and letting his hand snake between them to grasp Asta's cock and take over, squeezing and stroking a rhythm to compliment his own.

"Fuck," he hisses, breathless in his rising pleasure. "The things I'd do to you if we had the chance."

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

It’s a beautiful thought, isn’t it Danta? The beating thrum of one’s pulse right beneath lips so primed and ready to take a bite. Instead, a mark is left, one that has the butchers low thrum of a sound vibrating against the lips that have caused the mark. His breath hitches, body tensing and tightening like a coil slowly being wound.

The steady pace warms him up to being in this position, spurs the thrill that heats up his spine and before he knows it he’s losing himself a touch in how he aims to press back with a touch more speed; a silent way to say I’m not broken, before another curse escapes his lips to feel his task taken over by his lover’s hand. He braces the other against the door, a quiet groaning sound as his weight is pressed against it and the thrusts cause it to thud dully in its hinges, drowned out by the bustle of the kitchen.

It’s thrilling, to say the least, and despite how much he wishes to hang his head to pant his breaths he knows he’ll scratch the door with his horns if he does. So he tilts it back, stubbornly, dark hair trailing against his scarred back. “What would.. gods— what would you do, darling?” He asks, trying to temper his voice down as he bites back the moans that leave him, his cock throbbing in Danta’s hand.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

Asta is doing a much better job at keeping quiet than Danta would have (as they are both well aware), and as the butcher shifts his hips back to meet his every thrust, it's with a huff of breath and a lash of his tail that the Maverick struggles to keep his composure. No, Asta certainly is not going to break in this position, that much is clear, but that means they're much more at risk of breaking other things. Like the door.

"You know what I'd do," he whispers, his voice a soft growl as the hand pinning Asta's drifts up to his shoulder and moves gently down his back, encouraging him to arch forward more so the snap of Danta's hips might drive all the deeper. "I'd have you on that table in front of the window where you fucked me a few days ago, where everyone could see if they looked up," he pants. "Or I'd wait until you had an important meeting in your office to find myself between your legs under the desk."

Who would win, he wonders; Asta's poker face, or Danta's wicked tongue? Only one way to find out - later, though, the Maverick squeezing the butcher's cock hard as it throbs in his hand. Swearing under his breath and adjusting enough to properly fuck his lover against the door, the dull thumping and the rattling of hinges is unlikely to be heard over the din of the kitchen, it's true... but there's always a chance someone might hear. "Fuck, you're too much," he complains through clenched teeth, though he sounds anything but upset about it.

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

Asta, for the most part, is always exceptional at remaining quiet. It just means that the times he does let loose and allows himself the option to be louder are far more wonderful to witness with how rare it is. Here, though, he’s aware enough to know he doesn’t want someone to try and interrupt them, not when everything felt so good.

His hand is released in time to feel the shivering sense along his shoulders, then his back, retrieving the result Danta had wished. A gasp leaves him, bitten back quietly with a whimper of a sound as his back arches and he feels his lover sink deeper. Each option the Maverick offers up has him aching, sharp pants leaving him.

The ideas spur him on, at least, electricity flaring through him in golden strings of pleasure. “I think we may have to try both.” He manages to pant out in a deep whisper, broken up only by the quiet and soft moans he swallows down. A huff does escape him, slightly louder with the pairing of the door creaking as he adjusts how he props himself up, utilizing his forearm more than his hand, bracing the door and its hinges better but closer to hear the kitchen as the buzzer for the timer goes off.

“Gods, Danta,” it’s a breathy vibrating sound, head tilted slightly to allow the side of his face to be seen, flushed red with delight. “You feel so good, darling.” He purrs.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

"Both?" Danta echoes, the words breathless and bitten out as the pleasure of right now starts to override whatever might be in the future. "Greedy." A dark laugh escapes his lips, one that tapers off into a rough moan as Asta adjusts himself just so and the Maverick stops being so careful, his fingers sure to leave bruises against the other man's hips by the time they're done. Which isn't going to be long if Asta keeps looking and sounding like that, the snap of Danta's hips becoming something punishing and needy.

"Fuck," he whispers, able to feel the first crackles of his climax start to race up the backs of his legs and at the base of his spine. "If it feels so good, cum for me." It's almost a demand, Danta hitching forward so he's almost flush against the butcher, his lips drifting to the strong line of muscle between his neck and his shoulder and biting down hard enough for his fangs to break the skin, flooding the room with the scent of blood.

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

“Always,” Comes the delighted hiss, paired with a shiver that flares down his spine, making his toes curl. It’s alongside the pinch of pain along hips that aren’t as dulled to the touch as other parts of him. It’s delightful, as is the sudden punishing pace of his lover’s hips, spurring him on further into those electric pangs of his own rising climax.

The demand is met with the near rebuttal — claiming a bratty make me if it ever had a chance to leave his lips. It doesn’t, par from the “mmmm” that escapes him before he’s clamping his jaw down. Teeth pierce his shoulder, the blood bubbling to the surface as Danta presses in deep and warm, the scent of iron filling the air and the throb of heat suddenly flaring against the wound to his neck is paired with the matching, rabbit paced heartbeat that his cock throbs with. “Gods,” he manages to curse out as everything within him starts to unravel and come undone.

Sinking slightly back against Danta again, the butcher aches sharply momentarily, there’s the sound of something dropping at the entrance of the kitchen, a shuffle of feet, but mercifully the door is left alone. It’s enough overwhelming stimulation that the butcher cracks, his climax breaking from him with a wheezed sound of a moan he tries to keep down, cumming without a second thought as to trying to postpone for how close someone may be on the other side.

Ah well, Danta did a phenomenal job and it is a brothel at the end of the day.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

Danta has Asta to thank with the way the acrid scent of iron in the air also shoves his orgasm brutally to the surface, the Maverick turning his head sharply to stop from taking a real bite out of the butcher's shoulder as he follows him into oblivion. His own groan of satisfaction rumbles against his lover's back through clenched teeth, Danta's hand releasing his cock almost as an afterthought as he rides out each wave of pleasure with a slow, hard thrust.

Deaf to the sounds of the kitchen and all the people beyond it, Asta is the only thing he's remotely tuned into, Danta's chest heaving to try and catch his breath as he all but pins the other man against the door, eyes shuttering closed for a few seconds. "Fuck," he whispers, the fingertips gripping possessively at his hips growing instantly more gentle, his pulse hammering as he scrabbles for any sense beyond immediate bliss.

"Fuck," he says again, this time the word wrapped in breathless laughter. "I knew I wanted to fuck you, but I didn't realise I needed it that badly."

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

Heat melds with the pressure against his back, over gnarled scar tissue and the warm drip of blood from the bite left behind. But all the butcher can think about is the bliss of it, the way Danta’s cheek feels soft against his shoulder, pale in comparison to the bronze of his own complexion. Each slow thrust brings the come down, the tingling of his feet growing less and less abrupt, and the slow realization that the muscles in his thighs won’t stop quaking.

He doesn’t mind being pinned to the door, surprisingly, unlike his usual choices. He’s almost tamed, relaxed, flushed and content. The hands at his hips start to relax and Asta only melts with it more, his own breathless hum of a laugh escaping him. “And how are you finding yourself now that you have?” The butcher asks in a low and deep voice, amusement flaring for a few moments as he turns his horned head a fraction more, peering over the wound back at his lover before he’s able to find the strength in his arms to straighten up.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //