SUNJATA
the flood
'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading
The cry of surprise and pleasure that slip from Isla’s lips spark that electricity in his bones, the light pinprick of the sharpness of her nails digging into his skin leave goosebumps behind as he shivers again, wings trembling in the dim glow of the moon that filters in through the windows.
But he rises to meet her, rocking with her in this new angle, face diving in against her neck while his free hand tugs along those blonde curls to offer more of her skin up to him, rumbling his appreciations against her neck and jaw, nipping at her ear when it comes closer from how she rides him. And she’s right, when he does little to guide the moment, because she’s agreed to be the one in charge and Sunjata’s glad to have handed over the reins.
Especially when she readjusts and grips onto both horns, his head roughly adjusting to make space for her grip as she picks up the page and Sunjata groans a throaty sound, paired with all his mind can muster as she drives him wild. “Fuck, Isla—” it’s about all he can get out, her name on his tongue as his wings tighten in with the vibrating tremors fully felt as he restrained himself from tipping over that edge too quickly.
But he rises to meet her, rocking with her in this new angle, face diving in against her neck while his free hand tugs along those blonde curls to offer more of her skin up to him, rumbling his appreciations against her neck and jaw, nipping at her ear when it comes closer from how she rides him. And she’s right, when he does little to guide the moment, because she’s agreed to be the one in charge and Sunjata’s glad to have handed over the reins.
Especially when she readjusts and grips onto both horns, his head roughly adjusting to make space for her grip as she picks up the page and Sunjata groans a throaty sound, paired with all his mind can muster as she drives him wild. “Fuck, Isla—” it’s about all he can get out, her name on his tongue as his wings tighten in with the vibrating tremors fully felt as he restrained himself from tipping over that edge too quickly.
you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do
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.
