// up above so, up above so quiet //
Perhaps the baker would be too tipsy to try and complain about the adjustment to the recipe. Gods knew Asta could already feel the warmth blooming in his gut. It’s a warmth that’s settled alongside the other kind - content that Danta isn’t still upset. “I did. That tree was phenomenal.” He hums, his tone taking on a playful dramatic nostalgia, whispered and playful. But he doesn’t focus on what potential options they might find out there.
There’s other times to think about what kind of bog creature he could become.
Instead he delves in for the kiss, trying to hide it beneath the very obvious lilt and press of his lips, such that when they part and he hears Danta’s purr it’s essentially all over for him. His fingertips on his free hand tuck into the waistband of his pants, his smile felt as it tugs against his lips form where theirs brush. “Ah, but we could definitely make it fun.” He hums, stealing another shorter kiss as he dips his finger into the citrus cake, swiping up some of the frosting.
He sits back a little to make some distance, but just enough that he can swipe his frosting coated finger across Danta’s lower lip, down his chin, and against the hollow of his throat. “What do you say, darling?” He asks, before he leans in and drags his hot tongue against his lover's throat, a slow sweeping and promising motion up to his lips.
There’s other times to think about what kind of bog creature he could become.
Instead he delves in for the kiss, trying to hide it beneath the very obvious lilt and press of his lips, such that when they part and he hears Danta’s purr it’s essentially all over for him. His fingertips on his free hand tuck into the waistband of his pants, his smile felt as it tugs against his lips form where theirs brush. “Ah, but we could definitely make it fun.” He hums, stealing another shorter kiss as he dips his finger into the citrus cake, swiping up some of the frosting.
He sits back a little to make some distance, but just enough that he can swipe his frosting coated finger across Danta’s lower lip, down his chin, and against the hollow of his throat. “What do you say, darling?” He asks, before he leans in and drags his hot tongue against his lover's throat, a slow sweeping and promising motion up to his lips.
Astaroth
// down below so, down below so violent //
