run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
The butcher’s breath picks up, his own sounds of pleasure relatively quiet compared to the ones he draws out of the Maverick. He nearly purrs as Danta’s back arches, as he shifts just enough that the sensation for the butcher is twice as intense, sparking a low moan to escape him louder, alongside the ones he pulls from his lover.
“I certainly hope he does.” Asta’s voice is low, husky and deep and thickly accented as he pants the words out around the quiet groan of the thought. It has his fingers tightening in Danta’s hair, the buck of his hips momentarily heavier, slightly slower for it.
He recovers easily enough, though, the pace returning to a faster snap of his hips, as if he’s seeking out a prize as he tightens his hand against Danta’s cock, letting his thrusts do most of the work for him. The forearm of his other arm pushes down a touch more, tugging his lovers hair back enough to cock his head up, enough to see the foggy and blurry smug reflection of the butcher.
It’s that pitch that has the muscles of his body flexing as he increases his speed to give him what he wants. And while he hasn’t needed the sweet crimson iron of blood to spur this event on, he still does require it to finish it, and so he waits until he can feel the tension burn tighter within his lover, with each punishing thrust before he slices the inside of his cheek with his too sharp teeth. “Cum for me, Dantalion, love.” Comes the copper tinged growled request, because he fully knows the second Danta does, the butcher will succumb along with him.
“I certainly hope he does.” Asta’s voice is low, husky and deep and thickly accented as he pants the words out around the quiet groan of the thought. It has his fingers tightening in Danta’s hair, the buck of his hips momentarily heavier, slightly slower for it.
He recovers easily enough, though, the pace returning to a faster snap of his hips, as if he’s seeking out a prize as he tightens his hand against Danta’s cock, letting his thrusts do most of the work for him. The forearm of his other arm pushes down a touch more, tugging his lovers hair back enough to cock his head up, enough to see the foggy and blurry smug reflection of the butcher.
It’s that pitch that has the muscles of his body flexing as he increases his speed to give him what he wants. And while he hasn’t needed the sweet crimson iron of blood to spur this event on, he still does require it to finish it, and so he waits until he can feel the tension burn tighter within his lover, with each punishing thrust before he slices the inside of his cheek with his too sharp teeth. “Cum for me, Dantalion, love.” Comes the copper tinged growled request, because he fully knows the second Danta does, the butcher will succumb along with him.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
