there's an angel on your story and a demon in your bed
feels a bit surreal, feeling bad, don't feel it yet
feels a bit surreal, feeling bad, don't feel it yet
The air between them is warm, a flaring fire of their shared breaths as Danta presses his forehead to the butcher’s. And Asta, for his part, indulges in the touch all while focusing his hands on all the parts of his lover he more or less doesn’t often fuss over. Today is the full admiration, the reverence in which he’s deigned to let Danta take the lead in riding him towards exhaustion.
“Then come here, darling.” His voice drips with arrogance and his hands and legs move to help Danta situate himself, focusing quite hard on not snapping his hips up into him before the Maverick has a chance to readjust himself. It doesn’t take long, mercifully, and without zero qualms about his own quietness, he ensures the approving moan that passes his lips is all encompassing.
His hands remain at Danta’s hips, tail still interlocked with his lover’s like they’re two puzzle pieces just fitting perfectly together, and within those few seconds of preparation, the butcher’s length and core ache and throb with absolute desire. “Gods, you feel so good.” It's only for a moment before Danta’s starting to move and Asta’s hips hitch up greedily as he groans against Danta’s lips, head tilting back to where his horns and their vast crown of tines spread out in black inky shadows above the headboard.
“Then come here, darling.” His voice drips with arrogance and his hands and legs move to help Danta situate himself, focusing quite hard on not snapping his hips up into him before the Maverick has a chance to readjust himself. It doesn’t take long, mercifully, and without zero qualms about his own quietness, he ensures the approving moan that passes his lips is all encompassing.
His hands remain at Danta’s hips, tail still interlocked with his lover’s like they’re two puzzle pieces just fitting perfectly together, and within those few seconds of preparation, the butcher’s length and core ache and throb with absolute desire. “Gods, you feel so good.” It's only for a moment before Danta’s starting to move and Asta’s hips hitch up greedily as he groans against Danta’s lips, head tilting back to where his horns and their vast crown of tines spread out in black inky shadows above the headboard.
Astaroth
it's a roulette kinda deal, black and red is what you get
