// and if i was the only thing you couldn't bear to lose,
i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
i'd set fire to the wood, just so you wouldn't have to bury me too //
No one is truly honest when it comes to explaining what it was like to fuck a god. Or, more accurately, to be fucked by a god. Let alone the one whose entirety was about pleasure and reproduction and everything else. And Sunjata, a man who had gone most of his life under stress and abuse and manipulation and gaslighting, very rarely having the chance to simply let go and let be? The second it happens, it’s as if he erupts.
His moniker might be the Flood, but his name is just as accurate. He is both the Flood as Frey coils around him and through him, and the sun with all the spaces their being fills that burns away the dark that’s crept in. It’s a flash bang, but in a way that isn’t painful, that doesn’t hurt, that has him craving more and more and more until he thinks he might combust. Winding tighter and tighter with Frey and all the unhid sounds that escape him, burning brighter and brighter with each passing second and each roll of their hips.
Air both feels impossible yet so full in his lungs, shaking with anticipation and warmth and acceptance that he breaks, the sensation flooding through him and eclipsing everything that he’d wanted to ignore and get distracted from. He burns and burns until he can’t anymore, and the sweet swift release of Frey’s warm breath at the shell of his ear has him completely breaking, his orgasm racking through him with an intensity he thought he was prepared for, but isn’t.
It’s euphoric, in the way that he’s both so divinely free of his stress, too exhausted to think about it, the bliss so heavenly that he doesn’t realize that there are tears on his cheeks, leaking out of everything that’s weighed on his shoulders since he’d been healed of the infection and his mistakes leading up to it. It’s all gone, in warm salty streaks down his cheeks into the longer than stubble beard on his face and he collapses back into Frey’s warmth and embrace, panting hard and burying his face into their arm as he grips it tight. “Thank you.” He breathes in that shaky, trembly tone, the post bliss of his orgasm and the stress and weight being lifted from his shoulders.
~FIN
His moniker might be the Flood, but his name is just as accurate. He is both the Flood as Frey coils around him and through him, and the sun with all the spaces their being fills that burns away the dark that’s crept in. It’s a flash bang, but in a way that isn’t painful, that doesn’t hurt, that has him craving more and more and more until he thinks he might combust. Winding tighter and tighter with Frey and all the unhid sounds that escape him, burning brighter and brighter with each passing second and each roll of their hips.
Air both feels impossible yet so full in his lungs, shaking with anticipation and warmth and acceptance that he breaks, the sensation flooding through him and eclipsing everything that he’d wanted to ignore and get distracted from. He burns and burns until he can’t anymore, and the sweet swift release of Frey’s warm breath at the shell of his ear has him completely breaking, his orgasm racking through him with an intensity he thought he was prepared for, but isn’t.
It’s euphoric, in the way that he’s both so divinely free of his stress, too exhausted to think about it, the bliss so heavenly that he doesn’t realize that there are tears on his cheeks, leaking out of everything that’s weighed on his shoulders since he’d been healed of the infection and his mistakes leading up to it. It’s all gone, in warm salty streaks down his cheeks into the longer than stubble beard on his face and he collapses back into Frey’s warmth and embrace, panting hard and burying his face into their arm as he grips it tight. “Thank you.” He breathes in that shaky, trembly tone, the post bliss of his orgasm and the stress and weight being lifted from his shoulders.
~FIN
SUNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
