𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫.

ms. temptation :3

(late) merry christmas cutie pies

december
✿————✿

Being with you was always so unreal. It was like he was overstimulated by every touch against your soft skin, every word and sound to fall from your perfect lips, every tantalizing look into his eyes. You were so perfect, he'd never stop believing it.

This was what he always wanted. He wanted to actually be with you, not be tethered to any of the negative emotions that had weighed him down for months.

The two of you were nothing but a blur of messiness, raw emotion, and attraction that amplified the heat building up between your bodies. Your kisses were sloppy but forceful as they conveyed all the emotions you had hidden away. I miss you. I want you. I need you. Your passion was a display of how you really felt, and at this point his lips were beyond swollen.

Neither of your hands could stop traveling along each other's bodies for even a second. You couldn't refrain from touching each inch of exposed skin and throwing off whatever covered it until there was nothing left on either of you.

His hand on the small of your back held you tight against him, not giving either of you the choice to back out of the kiss—not that you would want to. Your tongue was warm against his, mouths meshing together in an addictive rhythm. His head fell back for a breath and you took the opportunity to kiss down his neck, leaving careless markings and hickeys along his pale skin.

"Fuck..." he groaned, having to put an elbow on the bed to keep himself up. You didn't let up, sucking and biting at the skin so much that he was sure it would leave dark bruises.

You laughed softly, which sounded so melodic that close to his ear. Suna held onto you so tight subconsciously, not even realizing how deeply his fingers dug into your skin. He was only relishing in the fact that you were there, in his room, on him, tangling your body with his. You still cared for him. You were his girlfriend. The words came to mind so easily, making his chest swell with fulfillment.

You placed an arm over his shoulder, fingers immediately tangling themselves in his hair, making him curse through a light exhale. Your lips latched onto his neck like a suction cup and you kissed and sucked your way through the expanse of his skin like you were an artist and he was a blank canvas.

His fingers gripped the delicate skin of your waist tightly, using it as a lifeline to keep himself from ascending at the feeling of you leaving your mark on him. Weird how he never minded the pain when it was you who was causing it—even weirder that he welcomed it. In his mind, you could break all the blood vessels you wanted and by the end he would thank you and display where he wanted the next one. In the least masochistic way possible that he could make it sound, the pain of you leaving marks along his body—biting, scratching, gripping a bit too hard—had to be some of the best feelings in the world.

Your free hand trailed down his stomach in between each individual ab, fingers tracing hearts and flowers, or butterflies. At some point he swore you traced out your name. You took your sweet time, swirling your fingers over his torso so lightly that it almost tickled, until you reached the appendage growing stiffer against his stomach.

Your lips left sloppy, wet kisses as you brought the blood in him to concentrate in the spots you wanted. His mind was all over the place, unable to focus on anything but your fingers wrapping around his dick. Your eyes locked onto his and the mischievous smile that made its way onto your lips as you knelt on the ground before him only slightly terrified him. 

No matter how many times he felt your mouth on him, it was always new, always better than the last time. Suna could never understand how you could be so talented at something so obscure like giving head, but he'd never be anything but grateful and impressed.