Astaroth
// so sip the gossip, drink 'til you choke. sip the gossip, burn down your throat //
This close, the mess of blood is impossible to see. This closely intertwined with the Maverick, the sting of pain from either one of their fangs or nips are barely able to be felt over the bliss of Danta wound around him. He moves against the Butcher perfectly, and for as much chaos as Danta embodies, they’re perfectly in sync and aligned with each thrust of the butcher’s hips.
His fingers tighten in the Maverick’s hair, blunt fingernails scraping against the small space under the chipped diamond horn, and as his lover grips the base of one of his horns, Asta’s appreciation for it is groaned into Danta’s mouth.
The break of breath doesn’t slow the Butcher’s hips any, if anything, it makes it a fraction more punishing, knowing it would be well received. “Because you’re mine.” It’s possessive and greedy, and bolstered by Asta’s free hand slipping up under his lover’s lower back and digging in fingerprint bruises where he helps him keep that angle, driving harder and harder into him and losing the edge of teasing focus he’d had before.
His fingers tighten in the Maverick’s hair, blunt fingernails scraping against the small space under the chipped diamond horn, and as his lover grips the base of one of his horns, Asta’s appreciation for it is groaned into Danta’s mouth.
The break of breath doesn’t slow the Butcher’s hips any, if anything, it makes it a fraction more punishing, knowing it would be well received. “Because you’re mine.” It’s possessive and greedy, and bolstered by Asta’s free hand slipping up under his lover’s lower back and digging in fingerprint bruises where he helps him keep that angle, driving harder and harder into him and losing the edge of teasing focus he’d had before.
// you're not iconic, you are just like them all. don't act like you don't know //
