// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
Asta, for the most part, is always exceptional at remaining quiet. It just means that the times he does let loose and allows himself the option to be louder are far more wonderful to witness with how rare it is. Here, though, he’s aware enough to know he doesn’t want someone to try and interrupt them, not when everything felt so good.
His hand is released in time to feel the shivering sense along his shoulders, then his back, retrieving the result Danta had wished. A gasp leaves him, bitten back quietly with a whimper of a sound as his back arches and he feels his lover sink deeper. Each option the Maverick offers up has him aching, sharp pants leaving him.
The ideas spur him on, at least, electricity flaring through him in golden strings of pleasure. “I think we may have to try both.” He manages to pant out in a deep whisper, broken up only by the quiet and soft moans he swallows down. A huff does escape him, slightly louder with the pairing of the door creaking as he adjusts how he props himself up, utilizing his forearm more than his hand, bracing the door and its hinges better but closer to hear the kitchen as the buzzer for the timer goes off.
“Gods, Danta,” it’s a breathy vibrating sound, head tilted slightly to allow the side of his face to be seen, flushed red with delight. “You feel so good, darling.” He purrs.
His hand is released in time to feel the shivering sense along his shoulders, then his back, retrieving the result Danta had wished. A gasp leaves him, bitten back quietly with a whimper of a sound as his back arches and he feels his lover sink deeper. Each option the Maverick offers up has him aching, sharp pants leaving him.
The ideas spur him on, at least, electricity flaring through him in golden strings of pleasure. “I think we may have to try both.” He manages to pant out in a deep whisper, broken up only by the quiet and soft moans he swallows down. A huff does escape him, slightly louder with the pairing of the door creaking as he adjusts how he props himself up, utilizing his forearm more than his hand, bracing the door and its hinges better but closer to hear the kitchen as the buzzer for the timer goes off.
“Gods, Danta,” it’s a breathy vibrating sound, head tilted slightly to allow the side of his face to be seen, flushed red with delight. “You feel so good, darling.” He purrs.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
