Don’t care who sees me out of my clothes

Hotaru

His hand fits perfectly against her waist if she says so herself, and her body follows the guide of his hands sinuously. He has good rhythm, and his reward is the way she presses into him until they are nearly sharing breaths. Or blood, as it were, with how he leans in close to her neck and the bared expanse of her collarbones. It’s almost a shame the Ancients don’t seem as inclined to biting as their predecessors - Hotaru quite likes the idea of those fangs against her skin.

So she takes the opportunity he hands her on a silver platter to slide her hands up into his hair, gripping there and pulling him closer into her neck until the curve of his horn grazes her cheek. Lamenting that she does not have more hands (because Gods she wants to have both gripping his horns, in exactly the way you’re thinking) Hotaru shamelessly grinds against him to the beat, enjoying the way heat amplifies between their bodies and has the lightest sheen of sweat collecting on her skin, making her perfume stronger highlighting the golden luster she’d applied to her shoulders and collarbones. “Want me to be rough with you darling?” she croons into his ear now that it’s closer. Always happy to put men on their knees when they ask so prettily.

My baby wants me all of the time
But whenever we're kissing I'm rolling my eyes