now i am the violence, i am the sickness
won't accept your silence
won't accept your silence
They work in tandem, Astaroth focusing on running his warm fingers along Danta’s face in gentle and smooth strokes of affection, head tilting slightly to give room for his lover to leave gentle kisses behind. The quiet question has a soft huff of a laugh from the butcher, nodding as he closes his eyes to avoid visually seeing the poor shirt succumb to a wrinkled fate.
“Gods, please.” Comes the quiet groan, the slight shift of angling Danta enough out of his lap so that he can shed the rest of his clothes, ensuring the bracelet remained on, before he tucks them in underneath the blankets, situating so his head rested comfortably on the pillows before he tugs Danta back in and nestles in, tail winding under the blankets to wrap around the Maverick’s leg for an additional point of connection. “Perhaps we will have quite a revitalizing sleep?” He hums, his sharp smile somehow softer as he aims it at Danta.
“Gods, please.” Comes the quiet groan, the slight shift of angling Danta enough out of his lap so that he can shed the rest of his clothes, ensuring the bracelet remained on, before he tucks them in underneath the blankets, situating so his head rested comfortably on the pillows before he tugs Danta back in and nestles in, tail winding under the blankets to wrap around the Maverick’s leg for an additional point of connection. “Perhaps we will have quite a revitalizing sleep?” He hums, his sharp smile somehow softer as he aims it at Danta.
Astaroth
beg me for forgiveness
