so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats
Watching the leather thread through his fingers, his dark gaze lifts to spot Danta’s answering smirk, hidden behind the sip of wine he takes. All Asta can do is raise a dark brow, huff a laugh, and roll his eyes. “You know, I didn’t hate the muzzle.” He admits casually. “The leash would have been far too much, however.” Gladly an agreement the Maverick has already admitted to, Asta’s nostrils flare slightly as the sleeve is peeled from his neck, leaving that perfect imprint of the Maverick’s sharp teeth.
Now that the hand not drinking wine is free for the Maverick, Astaroth slips the leather around it, utilizing it to tug the hand toward him to inspect the bloody marks left behind (after all, he hasn’t seen a mirror to see the damage yet.) “You did get a good bite, darling.” He hums with a sharp toothed appreciation, flashing a grin back his way that’s a touch too toothy now. “I’m already sore.” He says on the air of a sigh, full dramatics in the air between them.
Now that the hand not drinking wine is free for the Maverick, Astaroth slips the leather around it, utilizing it to tug the hand toward him to inspect the bloody marks left behind (after all, he hasn’t seen a mirror to see the damage yet.) “You did get a good bite, darling.” He hums with a sharp toothed appreciation, flashing a grin back his way that’s a touch too toothy now. “I’m already sore.” He says on the air of a sigh, full dramatics in the air between them.
Astaroth
so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine
