Sighs That Shoot Through the Moon: Suí-Feng/Yoruichi: sensual and pretty was what I was going for tbh
title's in ref to yoru's volume poem, also happy birthday to her, guess you can say she gets a good b-day gift~
On the night of their first tryst, she tells Yoruichi she's perfect.
It feels right, in the dark, in the shadows right where they like to be, right beneath the sheets, Yoruichi's lantern eyes seeming to glow with enough light for the both of them, and it's not the first time Suí-Feng's said it, but she thinks her former commander blushes, just a little.
"You think?" She murmurs, smile warm in the dark, a crescent moon, soft and fond and she doesn't deny it here, doesn't brush it off, only lifts her hands to brush along Sui-Feng's cheeks, to cup her face.
Beautiful, Suí-Feng thinks too, when Yoruichi seems to stare into her very being, coax her closer, and she lets her hands settle over Yoruichi's dusky shoulders, thumbs tracing senseless circles as she whispers a low, honest "With my everything," right against her lips.
"You charmer," Yoruichi whispers back, playful, nearly a purr, warm hands along her hips, fingers dancing up her spine, and perfection, beauty- it's all present at even a glance, Yoruichi underneath her, hair loose and body soft and dark and yielding to the slightest touch . . .
Perfection, beauty, it lives in the quiet moans against her mouth as they kiss, the fluid way Yoruichi arches into her touch, the way her eyelashes flutter, head tilted back when Suì-Fēng strokes somewhere sweet, and her voice, breathy and rumbling, like thunder, when she groans low in her throat...
It's something out of a dream, and each and every flawless second, Suì-Fēng relishes, commits to memory- where Yoruichi likes to be felt, what makes her eyebrows knit, what makes her bite her lip, what makes her nails dig into Suì-Fēng's skin, makes her hiss in melting, velvety caramel cream her name.
Sounds like these reverberate in her chest, seem to engulf her from all angles, eggs her on and on and on as her body flushes, the music from the dark-skinned beauty's mouth fueling the flames kindling within her.
And gods, Yoruichi is so warm, so electric, skin seeming to crackle, pop underneath her lips, hairs rising wherever Sui-Feng grazes, throat vibrating with her moan when she glides her tongue over it— just sweet, raw, exhilarating energy.
She thought it might feel otherwise- years on years of pent-up emotion, desperate and wild and greedy for fear that Yoruichi might slip between her pining fingers, but it's much, much different. Instead, her hands shake as she holds someone as sacred as the night sky, someone pretty as the stars that fill it, someone whose utter trust in her, ability to let her know her like this is so altogether beautiful.
It's something out of a dream.
"Don't worry," Yoruichi keeps murmuring to her, between tender kisses, around sensual sighs, even as she sidles elegantly onto Suí-Fēng's lap, knees on either side of her legs, strong arms around her neck, hips rolling against her fingers in a slow, languid dance that holds the captain's imminent rapture, steals the breath from her lungs, leaves her throbbing.
Her skin moves deliciously against Suí-Fēng's, and their breasts touch with each gyration, and Yoruichi caresses her cheek, locks their lips together with dizzying, never-ending kisses, lets them stray until they brush along her cheek and down to her jaw, buries her face in her neck as her body trembles, bites down on Suí-Feng's shoulder as her spine shudders, calls her name.
Even the way she comes is perfect, breath hitching, low moan in her ear, warm vice around her fingers, loose and weak in a manner that Suí-Fēng has never seen her- beautiful.
She can feel Yoruichi's winded breaths ghosting over her neck as the older woman rests bonelessly against her, feels her twitch as she removes her fingers as gently as she can, finds that her eyes are still bright, still illuminating the room when their gazes meet again.
And then Suí-Fēng blinks, and everything flips.
"I'm not perfect, however," her ex-commander breathes softly into her skin, when the tables turn, when Yoruichi tops her, stretched above her like a lazy lioness, perfect lips grazing along her neck, between her breasts, and Suí-Feng melts at each sensation, smolders under Yoruichi's molten magma gaze, and if truth be told, she barely hears a word.