Hearts belonged in chests, not in throats, but maybe that was just what Beau did to people.
Underneath her, Yasha was coy, head angled so she could give Anya the benefit of a self-satisfied smirk and her amber eyes, breasts pushed up against the material of her shirt as she arched her back. She was braless, again, and Anya could see her nipples through her shirt; she let her hand trace the shape of Yasha's waist and ribcage, longing, not yet bold. Anya lingered there, mesmerized by the curve of it, until Yasha took her by the wrist and drew her hand upwards, pressing the heel of it gently against the curve of her breast.
Collection of contributions under various themes to Shousetsu Bang*Bang, a webzine meant to promote and celebrate queer narratives.