SUNJATA
the flood
but am i too late? or hearts to your spades,
if i don't suit you? then what do you want from me?
if i don't suit you? then what do you want from me?
“We do.” He breathes, though whether or not it was a recurrence, he isn’t sure. So he covers up his hesitance with pressing himself against her, with wings that press her further against him. There’s a catlike smirk that crosses his face as they part and he’s gotten her dress off, soaking up all he can from her. So of course he drinks her in, watching as she essentially preens.
He runs that forked tongue along his lower lip, his slit steel gaze soaking up all of her as she readjusts herself, as she puts on a show. One hand, the unclawed one, rises to cup her breast, thumb flitting over the barbell he finds there while she redirects his other hand. “Mm, quite distracting.” He hums to her, gaze following the blazing path that she takes with her own hand before grasping his and slipping it to her waist. The clawed points dig into her skin, and his wings remain out, flaring as he moves to surge up about halfway to meet her, to press a kiss to her chin.
It gives her the space to remove his shirt at least, though he’s sure she can tell the effect she’s having on him just below where she sits. The clawed hand shifts back into just his typical calloused ones, drifting down from her waist toward the inside of her thighs, almost aggravatingly slow, as if he might be able to draw more of a distraction out of her by how he takes his time.
He runs that forked tongue along his lower lip, his slit steel gaze soaking up all of her as she readjusts herself, as she puts on a show. One hand, the unclawed one, rises to cup her breast, thumb flitting over the barbell he finds there while she redirects his other hand. “Mm, quite distracting.” He hums to her, gaze following the blazing path that she takes with her own hand before grasping his and slipping it to her waist. The clawed points dig into her skin, and his wings remain out, flaring as he moves to surge up about halfway to meet her, to press a kiss to her chin.
It gives her the space to remove his shirt at least, though he’s sure she can tell the effect she’s having on him just below where she sits. The clawed hand shifts back into just his typical calloused ones, drifting down from her waist toward the inside of her thighs, almost aggravatingly slow, as if he might be able to draw more of a distraction out of her by how he takes his time.
so we're not written in the stars,
but i'm okay with that. i'm okay with anything
but i'm okay with that. i'm okay with anything
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.
