// with our one foot in the grave //
“We did a few different fittings to ensure it would be comfortable enough.” He says, vocally waving away the concerns easily, even with the addition of a gesture of his hand. The only downside to wearing it is the way it ruffles his hair, letting a few dark strands fall forward, letting Danta lean in to check and see how it fits and is secured. “Leather seems fine in theory, until it snaps. Or I burn it off.” He hums, raising a dark brow as he gladly lets the Maverick invade his space in turn.
As Danta’s hands press against his chest, pushing against the smooth and soft fabric of the waistcoat, his arms lift to wind around Danta’s middle, keeping him close as he leans in to nuzzle against his cheek and neck, the metal cold at first where it presses against the blonde’s pale neck. “I do like the control.” He agrees, pressing in a touch harder to let the cold metal leave little pale lines into his skin. It doesn’t leave them in his face, at least, a majority of the mask covering where his beard sits. “And this prevents me from waking up with my teeth in your throat.” It’s a purred threat, made markedly less threatening with the metallic muzzle.
As Danta’s hands press against his chest, pushing against the smooth and soft fabric of the waistcoat, his arms lift to wind around Danta’s middle, keeping him close as he leans in to nuzzle against his cheek and neck, the metal cold at first where it presses against the blonde’s pale neck. “I do like the control.” He agrees, pressing in a touch harder to let the cold metal leave little pale lines into his skin. It doesn’t leave them in his face, at least, a majority of the mask covering where his beard sits. “And this prevents me from waking up with my teeth in your throat.” It’s a purred threat, made markedly less threatening with the metallic muzzle.
Astaroth
// while the other one's kicking its way right down to hell //
