[There are two terrible paths, given Mettaton's state.
The first of these paths is the one easiest for Mettaton, and the one more risky. Mettaton would remain exactly where he is, and he'd try to fuck Emet-Selch. He'd mount him again and stroke himself off on his lover's body and leave more of his come behind, stopping only when he felt at all sated, which is an achievement that won't happen. And with Emet-Selch's limited ability to speak and become aroused again, Mettaton wouldn't feel adequately appreciated and become ever more incensed. His sex would become increasingly violent, more sore-inducing.
The other path might spare Emet-Selch of this impending disaster. Taking the Ascian to shower, though Mettatons libidinous inclination paint racy pictures in his mind of the ordeal, would likely mean he'll remove the jewelry while stepping out of range of the pendants for the moment. Even when they returned to bed, at least he would be merely influenced by the pendants rather than the double trouble of the pendants and the diamonds.
He's decided, after all, that it would be a blessing for him to take Emet-Selch again. And again. And again. Emet-Selch would continue to worship him and make him feel sensual and attractive, and he would spare his voice either to compliment his beauty, or he'd use it on tones of satisfaction. Even thinking about it has his hips shifting even more, eager for more. He is attracted to Emet-Selch, after all. Attracted to them together, bodies intertwined, and he longs for them to be in the heights of passion again. He's so easy to arouse in this state — not necessarily a default for him while influenced by the moons, but one easily provoked, and Emet-Selch's presence could almost always guarantee to be that provocation. And once started, how could he stop? Why would he, when Emet-Selch would be so blessed to have Mettaton's attention, so lucky to be filled with his come and marked from head to toe with bloody bite marks? It makes perfect sense.
Though for the moment, he remains tender and placated in affection. He'd always trust his lover, feeling his body moving and alive beneath him, and even hearing him attempt for speech has him kissing his shoulder some more. He feels likewise trusted, all of his emotions met for intensity.
He considers which path he'd like to take. And then he settles on one of them: whimsically, fueled only by a flash of thought of his lover made clean and comfortable (after Mettaton took him in the shower) (and made clean and comfortable for further use, for more loving, affectionate praise of his splendor). The excitement to both see him made comfortable enough to sink into his arms, and the thrill of being able to take him in other ways... He begins to rock his hips with more pronouncement, incapable of stilling himself, and he swallows.]
Of course. [Of course his body's limited, but of course he'd always have him. Mettaton nuzzles his neck.] But how about I clean you up, beautiful?
[Clean him up to do him all over again, obviously. The heated press of lips turns into something more of a suck of flesh against Emet-Selch's neck, short and sweet but obviously aroused. (As if his erection didn't make that plenty obvious, swollen and still embedded in his lover, still stroking himself.) His hand moves from Emet-Selch's hip to touch at a tender-looking bite in his shoulder, imagining what he'd look like washed of blood to expose all of the more bodily-bound marks Mettaton would have to appreciate, both bruises and wounds. He licks his lips.
He'd describe it all to Emet-Selch, and he would no doubt appreciate it all. By extension, he'd appreciate Mettaton's artistry of him. Yes, seeking out Emet-Selch while he's so hungry for everything is always the best choice.
Without waiting for a response, Mettaton reluctantly shifts around to withdraw his arousal — something that only grows more pressing with each instant, and should he remain like this, Mettaton's positive he'll end up fucking him into the bed all over again. He wouldn't mind that... But he could also do that after getting Emet-Selch unwound and clean, a different sort of beauty to ravish. Warm and unwound and clean, hair wet and ready to be marked up anew.
He loves him immensely, and feels loved in return. Mettaton couldn't resist having him in any way.]
no subject
The first of these paths is the one easiest for Mettaton, and the one more risky. Mettaton would remain exactly where he is, and he'd try to fuck Emet-Selch. He'd mount him again and stroke himself off on his lover's body and leave more of his come behind, stopping only when he felt at all sated, which is an achievement that won't happen. And with Emet-Selch's limited ability to speak and become aroused again, Mettaton wouldn't feel adequately appreciated and become ever more incensed. His sex would become increasingly violent, more sore-inducing.
The other path might spare Emet-Selch of this impending disaster. Taking the Ascian to shower, though Mettatons libidinous inclination paint racy pictures in his mind of the ordeal, would likely mean he'll remove the jewelry while stepping out of range of the pendants for the moment. Even when they returned to bed, at least he would be merely influenced by the pendants rather than the double trouble of the pendants and the diamonds.
He's decided, after all, that it would be a blessing for him to take Emet-Selch again. And again. And again. Emet-Selch would continue to worship him and make him feel sensual and attractive, and he would spare his voice either to compliment his beauty, or he'd use it on tones of satisfaction. Even thinking about it has his hips shifting even more, eager for more. He is attracted to Emet-Selch, after all. Attracted to them together, bodies intertwined, and he longs for them to be in the heights of passion again. He's so easy to arouse in this state — not necessarily a default for him while influenced by the moons, but one easily provoked, and Emet-Selch's presence could almost always guarantee to be that provocation. And once started, how could he stop? Why would he, when Emet-Selch would be so blessed to have Mettaton's attention, so lucky to be filled with his come and marked from head to toe with bloody bite marks? It makes perfect sense.
Though for the moment, he remains tender and placated in affection. He'd always trust his lover, feeling his body moving and alive beneath him, and even hearing him attempt for speech has him kissing his shoulder some more. He feels likewise trusted, all of his emotions met for intensity.
He considers which path he'd like to take. And then he settles on one of them: whimsically, fueled only by a flash of thought of his lover made clean and comfortable (after Mettaton took him in the shower) (and made clean and comfortable for further use, for more loving, affectionate praise of his splendor). The excitement to both see him made comfortable enough to sink into his arms, and the thrill of being able to take him in other ways... He begins to rock his hips with more pronouncement, incapable of stilling himself, and he swallows.]
Of course. [Of course his body's limited, but of course he'd always have him. Mettaton nuzzles his neck.] But how about I clean you up, beautiful?
[Clean him up to do him all over again, obviously. The heated press of lips turns into something more of a suck of flesh against Emet-Selch's neck, short and sweet but obviously aroused. (As if his erection didn't make that plenty obvious, swollen and still embedded in his lover, still stroking himself.) His hand moves from Emet-Selch's hip to touch at a tender-looking bite in his shoulder, imagining what he'd look like washed of blood to expose all of the more bodily-bound marks Mettaton would have to appreciate, both bruises and wounds. He licks his lips.
He'd describe it all to Emet-Selch, and he would no doubt appreciate it all. By extension, he'd appreciate Mettaton's artistry of him. Yes, seeking out Emet-Selch while he's so hungry for everything is always the best choice.
Without waiting for a response, Mettaton reluctantly shifts around to withdraw his arousal — something that only grows more pressing with each instant, and should he remain like this, Mettaton's positive he'll end up fucking him into the bed all over again. He wouldn't mind that... But he could also do that after getting Emet-Selch unwound and clean, a different sort of beauty to ravish. Warm and unwound and clean, hair wet and ready to be marked up anew.
He loves him immensely, and feels loved in return. Mettaton couldn't resist having him in any way.]