// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
“Gods,” he starts to say, the moan swift from his lips from where they press against Danta’s neck, his hot breath raking over the other man’s skin. It’s a thought that only spurs him on, just how much Danta could take, how much Asta’s willing to give, but the haze of desire and lust blossoming like a neon sign in his mind has him pulling away from those thoughts about as quickly as they came.
Braced by his tail and the hold on Danta, the butcher’s hips drive up and into him in quick thrusts — a goal to be met on the forefront of his mind, given how he can feel each twitch and pull of the blonde’s body to prove how close he is. The announcement is met with a purred “come on, darling” a hot second before he can feel the warmth spread heavily between them, the tension that snaps within the blonde as he arches against him. And Astaroth isn’t far behind, not with the blood and the dragged out moans from the back of his throat, clawing their way out.
A few short and quick thrusts send him over the edge too, along with the nip of the inside of his cheek over the scar tissue, his own blood melding with the pool around them that soaks and drips from their clothes. He’s left panting, riding out the crashing waves of pleasure, horned head angled so his forehead rests against the other man’s throat, arms winding around him to keep him close and indulge in the rabbiting heartbeats they share.
Braced by his tail and the hold on Danta, the butcher’s hips drive up and into him in quick thrusts — a goal to be met on the forefront of his mind, given how he can feel each twitch and pull of the blonde’s body to prove how close he is. The announcement is met with a purred “come on, darling” a hot second before he can feel the warmth spread heavily between them, the tension that snaps within the blonde as he arches against him. And Astaroth isn’t far behind, not with the blood and the dragged out moans from the back of his throat, clawing their way out.
A few short and quick thrusts send him over the edge too, along with the nip of the inside of his cheek over the scar tissue, his own blood melding with the pool around them that soaks and drips from their clothes. He’s left panting, riding out the crashing waves of pleasure, horned head angled so his forehead rests against the other man’s throat, arms winding around him to keep him close and indulge in the rabbiting heartbeats they share.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
