SUNJATA
isn't it funny?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?
Nate’s touch is cool, smooth, nothing at all like the blazing inferno that thrives within him. He doesn’t know where to even begin, thoughts adrift in the wind for the flurry of sensations he gets, the overwhelming surge again and again as Nate continues to bite. A breathy moan is granted as the Ascended shifts his leg between Sunjata’s — some relief, some though he tries to take advantage of it, giving into the temptation given.
Nate releases his wrist, hands pinning and digging into his hip, and Sunjata feels himself shoved back into the wall completely at Nate’s mercy, horns thumping into the stone behind him. Burning and burning in an endless cycle that he wants nothing more than to see the end of. And he’s pinned, giving in and letting the hand that had pulled Nate to him, fist into his shirt, the other aiming for the Ascended’s dark hair as the man nears his neck again.
Which of course, this time it’s far more intimate than before, and Sunjata buckles against the wall, held up by Nate’s applied pressure and insistence that he remains where he is. And while Nate doesn’t need to breathe, Sunjata does and his breath is ragged, hitching, chest thundering against Nate’s as it courses through him and he can’t quite tell if he’s dying or if it’s just too much for him to understand, to comprehend.
Nate doesn’t have to work very hard to get Sunjata’s vocals, however, and he gives in with the handsy touches, the tongue at his throat, the teeth in his neck, and he practically hums with vibration and electricity with all of it. It doesn’t take long for him to completely shatter, the release of the coil within him taught, released in far more intensity than he’d ever experienced before. He can acutely hear the growl of a groan tear from his throat that echoes against the walls, hips rocking against Nate, gasping for a breath of cool air in the stuffy Ruins they’re in, desperately letting it rack through him, grasping and reaching for anything cool to relax, to adjust, to realize what’s happened.
Nate releases his wrist, hands pinning and digging into his hip, and Sunjata feels himself shoved back into the wall completely at Nate’s mercy, horns thumping into the stone behind him. Burning and burning in an endless cycle that he wants nothing more than to see the end of. And he’s pinned, giving in and letting the hand that had pulled Nate to him, fist into his shirt, the other aiming for the Ascended’s dark hair as the man nears his neck again.
Which of course, this time it’s far more intimate than before, and Sunjata buckles against the wall, held up by Nate’s applied pressure and insistence that he remains where he is. And while Nate doesn’t need to breathe, Sunjata does and his breath is ragged, hitching, chest thundering against Nate’s as it courses through him and he can’t quite tell if he’s dying or if it’s just too much for him to understand, to comprehend.
Nate doesn’t have to work very hard to get Sunjata’s vocals, however, and he gives in with the handsy touches, the tongue at his throat, the teeth in his neck, and he practically hums with vibration and electricity with all of it. It doesn’t take long for him to completely shatter, the release of the coil within him taught, released in far more intensity than he’d ever experienced before. He can acutely hear the growl of a groan tear from his throat that echoes against the walls, hips rocking against Nate, gasping for a breath of cool air in the stuffy Ruins they’re in, desperately letting it rack through him, grasping and reaching for anything cool to relax, to adjust, to realize what’s happened.
if we could light up the room with pain,
we'd be such a glorious fire
we'd be such a glorious fire
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.
