open post : picture prompt

[pseudocode]

OPEN PICTURE PROMPT MEME



respond to a character in this post with a picture!
or a few!
(this tumblr may be helpful.)
i will set the scene based on the picture.
fun ensues!
(link if they're particularly huge, numerous or nsfw, please!)
or you can leave me a comment and i'll hit you with picture prompts instead.

aus are totally chill.
if someone's on my muselist but not this post
hit me up and i'll drop a comment for them.

Comments

and master of all of them

[gusset]

He knows the shape of her reaction the moment his lip moves. She's not predictable, but she is fond of a challenge, and he won't give her the empty satisfaction of a victory barely won. His eyebrows rise, and he blinks, long. This quickening is anything but fear.

His fingers draw free of fabric, finding the dip of her spine, and he lays his palm there with enough pressure it can't be immediately dismissed. He draws in a breath, eyes flicking toward her mouth - and he knows she won't miss it, because when has she ever? Her trap is confident, and there's a thought of resisting for a moment longer, but hasn't he waited enough? He leans up to close the space between them. If she doesn't like his lip between his teeth, perhaps she'll like hers there better.

brows emote

[paramountcy]

The moan that leaves her mouth is earnest, her lips parting as soon as they brush back against Iori's. She lets him draw her into his mouth without resistance. It's what she wanted, the unbridled crush of his body against hers. The slight pain from his teeth in her lip is a thrill, and she finds herself pulling back just enough to make it sting her. She won't forget it soon; he'll be bitten back soon enough, not retaliation but escalation.

She's been holding up the dress so diligently that it's almost compromised the minute she pushes back into his kiss. Satsuki is a woman of resolve and will, and it's will and resolve that keeps her from trashing his handiwork. His firm hand on her back keeps her still, and it's in this stillness that her stomach shivers, twitches against his, an alien, but too familiar fire lighting in it. She's short-sighted with the heat of want, and she fidgets her hands and body anxiously, the way only she can.

Now her hands won't stay away from him. They travel back up his chest and into his hair and stay there this time, thumb tickling the back of his ear. But, oh, the dress - and, her tongue touching his upper lip, Satsuki grunts again, impatiently. She lets it drop, purposefully, neatly, letting it piled soft on the floor. They'll kiss without end if left to it; she's happy to move the action to a more comfortable place.