[This tattoo is the strangest-placed and -sourced direct line to his cock. When it was Emet-Selch handling him, their bodies close, the sensation of his fingertips grazing over his sides or gripping onto him for dear life have him arching his back, squirming and writhing against Emet-Selch's body with all of his energetic over-sensitivity. And the more he was touched, the more he was dragged against Emet-Selch, the deeper and more pronounced his thrusts. He was helpless to stop himself, and though the drag of muscle 'round his girth wasn't silky smooth... it felt good to be embedded in him, bodies connected through their effort.
Gripping down on Emet-Selch's hips, he draws the smaller man close enough to his hips that any space he had left to cover of his erection was readily patched. His length is pressed deep, right down to the root. The sound of Emet-Selch's voice urged him there, a need to... soothe, perhaps, that tightness of voice by filling out the tightness of body. He would not only keep going, but make good on settling Emet-Selch down on his root—effectively and totally penetrating him.]
Ah... For you...
[For him, he'd not only fit him in this blissful, if intense in many directions, union. He'd also keep going. Gripping firmly his hips, Mettaton would be sinking claws into skin if he had them as his grasp steels, holding Emet-Selch steady to be worked down with that thick cock he finally fit.
They were both committed to this end, and Mettaton's voice is a rumble of a groan as he mounts him tight, continuing to swing his hips, pressing him back against the mattress. Short, full kneading, rolling his tip deep inside of Emet-Selch, the sensation of erotic pleasure after months with out quickly blinds him, as Mettaton's groans soon join with Emet-Selch's moans. Just as he promised, he can't stop himself: he's really getting into it, even as he sympathizes with the hurt Emet-Selch's enduring, and even as he feels some of that drag for himself. It felt too good, and he felt too spirited to let it get him down anymore.
With the two of them busy giving voice to their vocalizations, kisses are even sloppier and less coordinated than before. Mettaton gives the Ascian a firm thrust to emphasize how he's buried down to the root, before moaning at the contact, at the acknowledgement that they were finally joined.
Soft and low, his voice wouldn't be audible to anyone beyond Emet-Selch.]
This... is more than I could have wished for, Hades...
[Even the circumstance, because Emet-Selch is alive and real and not an idealized version of a man he's married to. He is responsive and reactive, and even if they came to blows, even if their mood had soured, Mettaton adored the place they found themselves in now because of their journey. And the wish Emet-Selch had made... Mettaton felt grateful for it, even though he knew they would've both wished for it together.
But he wanted Emet-Selch to experience the joy he got out of this vivid sensation. Of being gripped, touched, and then given a spot for him to slip his cock, warm and tight; Mettaton shudders tightly, a squeak of a moan escaping his throat as he's crushed by the overwhelming and sudden realization that he was feeling, vivid and arousing. From pain to pleasure to the simple contact of their bodies, the man beneath him warm and soft and giving... His body shudders, as he both collapses and curls around Emet-Selch.]
You've made a mess of me, god...
[And with this amount of sensitivity, the heavy weight of arousal between this thighs... release would not be difficult to find from here. But he gives Emet-Selch a softer kiss, brief against the corner of his lips out of appreciation.]
no subject
Gripping down on Emet-Selch's hips, he draws the smaller man close enough to his hips that any space he had left to cover of his erection was readily patched. His length is pressed deep, right down to the root. The sound of Emet-Selch's voice urged him there, a need to... soothe, perhaps, that tightness of voice by filling out the tightness of body. He would not only keep going, but make good on settling Emet-Selch down on his root—effectively and totally penetrating him.]
Ah... For you...
[For him, he'd not only fit him in this blissful, if intense in many directions, union. He'd also keep going. Gripping firmly his hips, Mettaton would be sinking claws into skin if he had them as his grasp steels, holding Emet-Selch steady to be worked down with that thick cock he finally fit.
They were both committed to this end, and Mettaton's voice is a rumble of a groan as he mounts him tight, continuing to swing his hips, pressing him back against the mattress. Short, full kneading, rolling his tip deep inside of Emet-Selch, the sensation of erotic pleasure after months with out quickly blinds him, as Mettaton's groans soon join with Emet-Selch's moans. Just as he promised, he can't stop himself: he's really getting into it, even as he sympathizes with the hurt Emet-Selch's enduring, and even as he feels some of that drag for himself. It felt too good, and he felt too spirited to let it get him down anymore.
With the two of them busy giving voice to their vocalizations, kisses are even sloppier and less coordinated than before. Mettaton gives the Ascian a firm thrust to emphasize how he's buried down to the root, before moaning at the contact, at the acknowledgement that they were finally joined.
Soft and low, his voice wouldn't be audible to anyone beyond Emet-Selch.]
This... is more than I could have wished for, Hades...
[Even the circumstance, because Emet-Selch is alive and real and not an idealized version of a man he's married to. He is responsive and reactive, and even if they came to blows, even if their mood had soured, Mettaton adored the place they found themselves in now because of their journey. And the wish Emet-Selch had made... Mettaton felt grateful for it, even though he knew they would've both wished for it together.
But he wanted Emet-Selch to experience the joy he got out of this vivid sensation. Of being gripped, touched, and then given a spot for him to slip his cock, warm and tight; Mettaton shudders tightly, a squeak of a moan escaping his throat as he's crushed by the overwhelming and sudden realization that he was feeling, vivid and arousing. From pain to pleasure to the simple contact of their bodies, the man beneath him warm and soft and giving... His body shudders, as he both collapses and curls around Emet-Selch.]
You've made a mess of me, god...
[And with this amount of sensitivity, the heavy weight of arousal between this thighs... release would not be difficult to find from here. But he gives Emet-Selch a softer kiss, brief against the corner of his lips out of appreciation.]