#handsy

he's obsessed with your chest.

and by obsessed, i mean obsessed.

you'd be talking to him and realise his eyes are flickering down to your low collar every two seconds.

he's shameless when you decide to not wear a bra at home. his hands slide under your shirt before you know it, and he's squeezing the mounds of flesh.

"...soft" pressing his front to your back, hands kneading at your boobs.

loves drawing circles over your hardened nubs, chuckling when goosebumps rise up on your skin.

"can i, baby..please?"

after a long day of being at the company or right after getting back from tour, how could you deny his sweet voice.

you lay down on the bed with his body slotted sideways between your legs. his cheek squished up on your chest while he lazily mouths over your tits.

practically purring when you stroke his hair down and squirm in his hold.

he's just so ready to feel you up at any time.

god, but when he's in the mood to tease you. he will go all out. there are times he nips at the sensitive skin, leaving bruises all over your chest. so many that it stays for weeks.

loves to see how you press your legs together unconciously everytime he licks a long strip from under, all the way to your swollen nipple, only to suck down on it.

might even try to get you to cum without touching you. could go on for hours till you end up crying from the lack of proper stimulation.

and if he does get you to cum, he's going to keep experimenting...

"gonna make you cum just like this, baby"

.

.

.

.

.

.

you would whip your head to denki, but shoto wouldn't. his brain was too fried to focus on anything else besides the beautiful person in his lap.

"i'm outie!" denki would continue, taking one last drag before passing the joint to you.

alone now, shoto's hands would travel up and down your figure. tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, rubbing mindless circles on your thigh, pinching your hip bone, playing with your fingers.

taking your own hit, you would ask, "how much did you smoke?"

he would shrug, maybe because he didn't want to admit how gone he was, maybe because he honestly forgot how long he'd been out here. he'd reach for the joint once more, pulling it between his lips.

eye contact. intense, unyielding, eye contact. god, it would be so sexy. he would take a long drag, the end of the joint sparking a mix of gold and orange as he inhaled.

as he pulled it away, his smirk would return, exhaling the smoke in the direction opposite your face. "you're gorgeous," low, smooth, sultry.

you would giggle, sending a warm feeling through his chest. taking in his flushed appearance, eyes red and half-lidded, red and white hair tousled. he was gorgeous, too. but instead, "and you're high."