i'm not a whole person, and i dont think i ever will be
parts of me died in the house i grew up in
The touch is broken yet received with a much better one — and Sunjata hums a deep sound, something like a snort at it, amused at Nate’s own act of defiance. A flood of a sensation encompasses him with the preview, and he offers his language in return. At least, until Nate gives a threat — one Sunjata smirks to. “Am I?” He feigns some small amount of innocence through the growling, lusty purr that slips from his lips.
It all falters, however, as thumbs press into his hips and he gives into it, pressing back against the desk hard enough to add more bruising. This is what he’s wanted. He can feel it roaring and raging in his blood, feel the echoes of the first bite coursing through his veins ignited by the way Nate looks at him, hungry, strong, powerful. Enough to make him weak and malleable beneath his presence, his touch. He doesn’t think anyone’s made him feel like that, to give in and sink and let someone else handle the reins. He’d always fought for it, always demanded the attention and power that came with it.
Here, he hands it over — so willingly that it feels… Wrong, yet right, and he’s still trying to come to grips with that understanding as he drowns with what Nate has to offer him. The threat of teeth, the not needing to breathe, the ability to manhandle him as though it’s easy. The tension the Ascended has created again within him breaks as soon as he can feel Nate’s lips, and a shuddering sigh escapes him. The movement is slow as Nate takes him in, and Sunjata twitches and trembles beneath the action, held back by the way Nate pins him to prevent him pushing the Ascended further. His head tilts back a small amount with a groan as Nate pauses, the ghost of the Ascended’s nose at his stomach. And the Attuned twitches again, thighs trembling as he looks down to Nate as the man withdraws with a wink.
It’s a cocky action that drives him to smirk back down at the man. He supposes it's only fair, considering the man’s got a mouth full of it currently, but it still causes a growl of a whine to leave him at the slowness of it, the taunting brush of a tongue dragging along the length of it. So he readjusts himself, lifting up from elbows to grip the desk to where his knuckles are nearly white. Fingers shift to claws that embed into the wood, groaning beneath the pressure, and he tries to press his hips back into the pressure of the Ascended, his own defiance, his own threat through short hitching breaths he tries to deny.
“Are you gonna fuck me or just play?” It comes out as a deep rumble of a growl, claws digging into the wood further.
It all falters, however, as thumbs press into his hips and he gives into it, pressing back against the desk hard enough to add more bruising. This is what he’s wanted. He can feel it roaring and raging in his blood, feel the echoes of the first bite coursing through his veins ignited by the way Nate looks at him, hungry, strong, powerful. Enough to make him weak and malleable beneath his presence, his touch. He doesn’t think anyone’s made him feel like that, to give in and sink and let someone else handle the reins. He’d always fought for it, always demanded the attention and power that came with it.
Here, he hands it over — so willingly that it feels… Wrong, yet right, and he’s still trying to come to grips with that understanding as he drowns with what Nate has to offer him. The threat of teeth, the not needing to breathe, the ability to manhandle him as though it’s easy. The tension the Ascended has created again within him breaks as soon as he can feel Nate’s lips, and a shuddering sigh escapes him. The movement is slow as Nate takes him in, and Sunjata twitches and trembles beneath the action, held back by the way Nate pins him to prevent him pushing the Ascended further. His head tilts back a small amount with a groan as Nate pauses, the ghost of the Ascended’s nose at his stomach. And the Attuned twitches again, thighs trembling as he looks down to Nate as the man withdraws with a wink.
It’s a cocky action that drives him to smirk back down at the man. He supposes it's only fair, considering the man’s got a mouth full of it currently, but it still causes a growl of a whine to leave him at the slowness of it, the taunting brush of a tongue dragging along the length of it. So he readjusts himself, lifting up from elbows to grip the desk to where his knuckles are nearly white. Fingers shift to claws that embed into the wood, groaning beneath the pressure, and he tries to press his hips back into the pressure of the Ascended, his own defiance, his own threat through short hitching breaths he tries to deny.
“Are you gonna fuck me or just play?” It comes out as a deep rumble of a growl, claws digging into the wood further.
& i visit them in dreams
SUNJATA
