// and i hear your ship is comin' in, your tears a sea for me to swim in
and i hear a storm is comin' in, my dear, is it all we've ever been? //
and i hear a storm is comin' in, my dear, is it all we've ever been? //
It is a feeling that flows both ways, Sunjata too attached to Nate, too in love to even consider anything that might tear them apart. He doesn’t think it possible unless Nate were to get tired of his shit first. And so far? That wasn’t the case. A small mercy, all things considered. And then it’s times like this where they’re entangled, wrapped up in one another in a warm darkness – even if Nate can’t feel it, Sunjata does his best to share the sensation through the bond.
Sunjata is moldable, Nate’s hands grow heavier as they run along his thighs, over scars and along hot, splotched red skin. When Nate’s fingers slip into the Attuned’s waistband, there’s a hitch of breath from Sunjata, a breathy growl that leaves him that tangles with Nate’s pleased rumble. Electricity flickers through Sunjata in such a way that his heart thunders in his ears, his skin flushed, his hands working on auto pilot to try and draw out more from Nate even if his mind admittedly isn’t following suit.
There’s a hitch in the movement of Nate’s hips, a low hum leaving Sunjata when his husband’s hand finds his cock, when Nate breaks away from the bite and presses his head against his neck. He heaves his breath, some small part of clarity coming over him, his head tilting back and his hands slipping down from hair and spine toward Nate’s hips. And it’s a little bit of that clarity that doesn’t have him thinking before he speaks, shifting to press his hips against Nate’s own and his hand, a smirk crossing his face through the panting breaths. Is that so? He hums back through the bond, a feigned challenge, pushing the boundary as both his hands shift to claws to press against Nate’s hips, to drag up against his sides to his shoulders. He wants to see what Nate does.
Sunjata is moldable, Nate’s hands grow heavier as they run along his thighs, over scars and along hot, splotched red skin. When Nate’s fingers slip into the Attuned’s waistband, there’s a hitch of breath from Sunjata, a breathy growl that leaves him that tangles with Nate’s pleased rumble. Electricity flickers through Sunjata in such a way that his heart thunders in his ears, his skin flushed, his hands working on auto pilot to try and draw out more from Nate even if his mind admittedly isn’t following suit.
There’s a hitch in the movement of Nate’s hips, a low hum leaving Sunjata when his husband’s hand finds his cock, when Nate breaks away from the bite and presses his head against his neck. He heaves his breath, some small part of clarity coming over him, his head tilting back and his hands slipping down from hair and spine toward Nate’s hips. And it’s a little bit of that clarity that doesn’t have him thinking before he speaks, shifting to press his hips against Nate’s own and his hand, a smirk crossing his face through the panting breaths. Is that so? He hums back through the bond, a feigned challenge, pushing the boundary as both his hands shift to claws to press against Nate’s hips, to drag up against his sides to his shoulders. He wants to see what Nate does.
anchor up to me, love. anchor up to me, love. anchor up to me, love
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.
