Astaroth
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
The feel of Danta’s tail curling around his calf has him shivering with delight, but with his glamour up and the absence of his horns and tail, it allows him to not worry about the sheets and blankets beneath him. Danta’s tongue flicks against his sharpened tooth, and while he doesn’t really need it right now, he’s selfish and craves it. He bites down a touch, careful and cautious despite the intensity of their kiss, and with the iron that blooms it sparks all the heat like a shark.
His hips twitch unhelpfully where he’s pinned beneath Danta’s body – indulging in the weight of him when he hears the admission and the hard edges of his voice. “Was it from watching me all night?” He wonders breathily, playfully, distracting temporarily for the mere fun of it. “Where would you have taken me?” He growls playfully, pressed back in the blankets and furs and sheets to peer up at his lover with a coy look and a sharp smirk as he adjusts himself.
It's a look that fades almost immediately with the way Danta loses his battle. He sinks into him and Asta’s moan is entirely unhidden, loud and greedy, nails digging into his lover’s back as his leg hooks tighter, encouraging him to drive deeper. He aches for more, the heat of his arousal has him hard and the warm, reddish flush patching along his hips and shoulders and neck with anticipation. “More.” Comes the request, in a tone surprisingly not a demand as it otherwise would be.
His hips twitch unhelpfully where he’s pinned beneath Danta’s body – indulging in the weight of him when he hears the admission and the hard edges of his voice. “Was it from watching me all night?” He wonders breathily, playfully, distracting temporarily for the mere fun of it. “Where would you have taken me?” He growls playfully, pressed back in the blankets and furs and sheets to peer up at his lover with a coy look and a sharp smirk as he adjusts himself.
It's a look that fades almost immediately with the way Danta loses his battle. He sinks into him and Asta’s moan is entirely unhidden, loud and greedy, nails digging into his lover’s back as his leg hooks tighter, encouraging him to drive deeper. He aches for more, the heat of his arousal has him hard and the warm, reddish flush patching along his hips and shoulders and neck with anticipation. “More.” Comes the request, in a tone surprisingly not a demand as it otherwise would be.
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious
i'm a fucking delight
i'm a fucking delight
