// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //
Akin to the fyrhund under his skin, the second Flora’s hands plunge into the butcher’s dark hair, his head is tilting into the touch - the dark of his gaze warm and confident where he watches Danta’s reaction from where his head is tucked in neatly. His arms cage her sides in, a warm press of olive against Torchline tanned porcelain with the gaps of skin her corset offers with each shift of her hips.
Her lips press just beneath his jaw, her question a quiet whisper of checking in, and while their history had been tangled with multitudes of mixed signals and wanting nothing more than to please her, he knows precisely what he wants. And it’s to Danta’s own response that sparks a warm huff of a laugh that brushes against her cheek. “On the contrary, I am quite sure.” He purrs to them, knowing that Danta would keep him in check if he starts to go a little too praying mantis-y.
So for now, his own hands drift down to Danta’s hip while he works at Flora’s laces, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of his shorts, giving a little tug. He meets the Maverick’s gaze as they lift to him and he shifts just enough to crane down to press a kiss to her neck, warm and surprisingly tender for the sharp teeth she’s familiar with that sits within. “And I would like to change the time we had in Frey’s Breath.” He murmurs into her skin, before he’s nosing his way into her blonde curls.
Her lips press just beneath his jaw, her question a quiet whisper of checking in, and while their history had been tangled with multitudes of mixed signals and wanting nothing more than to please her, he knows precisely what he wants. And it’s to Danta’s own response that sparks a warm huff of a laugh that brushes against her cheek. “On the contrary, I am quite sure.” He purrs to them, knowing that Danta would keep him in check if he starts to go a little too praying mantis-y.
So for now, his own hands drift down to Danta’s hip while he works at Flora’s laces, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of his shorts, giving a little tug. He meets the Maverick’s gaze as they lift to him and he shifts just enough to crane down to press a kiss to her neck, warm and surprisingly tender for the sharp teeth she’s familiar with that sits within. “And I would like to change the time we had in Frey’s Breath.” He murmurs into her skin, before he’s nosing his way into her blonde curls.
Astaroth
// and i'll paint it red //
