maybe i'll lie to you, maybe i'll play this role
maybe i'll act like my act is together
“More?” He murmurs, unable to think about the tiniest bit of air between them. But she distracts him, her words his native tongue, sprinkling through the air enough that his attention is wholly on her, not the clouds or the way the scent of the ocean waves hits him, of where they might be. He doesn’t care. That is, until she’s slipping out of his arms and his wings pull back, flaring in their stretch before one droops, as if he’s battling with himself not to go and scoop her up to break the distance. The echo of her words hits his mind and it stills him, all of his impulse dying in a breath as he watches her reveal more of herself.
And gods does he ache. His eyes travel along her skin, soaking it up, lingering on constellations and the brilliance she gives, following the curves of her skin, the swell of her breasts, eyes only snapping up the second the dress tears and those dark claws of hers start to travel down her chest. His mouth dries out, smoldering steel focused so intensely on her that both wings start to droop and his shoulders flare with the navy feathers of his first shift — the one she had given him when she’d pressed her lips to his and reached so far into his chest she’d caressed his soul.
How could he have ever harbored any doubt for her?
She beckons him near and his feet move before his mind can follow, tugged and pulled effortlessly to him. She is the stars and the moon and he is the Flood, the waves of which she shifts as she sees fit. And so he moves to her, his clawed hand outstretched to reach for her hip, to draw the tips along her side, moving himself to face her but only slight, half in front of her to run his non clawed hand down her front, picking up where her hand had left off and traveling lower and lower until he can take the plunge beneath the whiff of black between her legs. A charming smirk is given her way, a slight hitch of his breath when he inhales, and he draws his finger gently along her clit in a small circle. His wings flare out again, drawing in air and balance for the Flood as he finds himself wholly entranced again.
And gods does he ache. His eyes travel along her skin, soaking it up, lingering on constellations and the brilliance she gives, following the curves of her skin, the swell of her breasts, eyes only snapping up the second the dress tears and those dark claws of hers start to travel down her chest. His mouth dries out, smoldering steel focused so intensely on her that both wings start to droop and his shoulders flare with the navy feathers of his first shift — the one she had given him when she’d pressed her lips to his and reached so far into his chest she’d caressed his soul.
How could he have ever harbored any doubt for her?
She beckons him near and his feet move before his mind can follow, tugged and pulled effortlessly to him. She is the stars and the moon and he is the Flood, the waves of which she shifts as she sees fit. And so he moves to her, his clawed hand outstretched to reach for her hip, to draw the tips along her side, moving himself to face her but only slight, half in front of her to run his non clawed hand down her front, picking up where her hand had left off and traveling lower and lower until he can take the plunge beneath the whiff of black between her legs. A charming smirk is given her way, a slight hitch of his breath when he inhales, and he draws his finger gently along her clit in a small circle. His wings flare out again, drawing in air and balance for the Flood as he finds himself wholly entranced again.
maybe i'll cope with life without hope
maybe i'll open the door and fall through the floor
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.
