( in a strange way, it almost means more when the pain is not dulled and the wound isn’t immediately healed—that the pain and physical damage borne is a willing sacrifice made for the sake of satisfying another, to cross a line into a perverse type of intimacy that the vast majority of decent folk wouldn’t even consider. it causes makoto to tremble, even beyond the pain of fanged teeth tearing flesh away from his body, even beyond the pleasure of kazuya’s cock driving hard against his own as he did so. it’s an unidentifiable type of feeling that buoys up inside of his chest, making him feel whole and secure in a way that is not only bizarre but also completely at ends with the fact that, in this moment, he is technically neither. but it just wouldn’t be makoto if he wasn’t conflicted with some sort of critical contradiction, constantly stuck in the flux of dichotomy.
the feeling of kazuya’s tongue being forced into the wound forces a sharper, more higher-pitched whine out of makoto. at this point he really has trouble figuring out if it’s from pleasure or pain because he feels both so strongly; that, combined with how odd it is to physically feel someone’s tongue moving inside of you, forces it out of him beyond his attempt to contain. it precedes something that makoto only realizes after a belated moment of confusion must be magic. it washes over him like a sudden rain which stops just as suddenly as it had started, then again, and again, and it’s such an overwhelmingly confounding feeling that makoto can’t help but squirm underneath kazuya, made restless by the careful manipulation of magic coaxing something that would’ve otherwise been impossible upon this body: a scar, albeit a temporary one, placed with gratuitous devotion
by the end of it makoto is panting, likely just as desperate for release as kazuya is—but, just as easy as it would be to try to chase both of them to that end, there’s a part of makoto that’s just as greedy as it is foolish (and not to mention prideful), which doesn’t want to allow himself to come just yet because he wants the satisfaction of coming to doing exactly what kazuya had just done to him. so as kazuya reacts strongly to his touch, leaning forward to press his head to the curve of his neck and kiss the knotted scar that was the only testament to the wound that had been ravaged there moments before, makoto’s hand shifts to wrap fully around the other demon’s cock, for the moment neglecting his own to pump with shameless efficacy. he focuses on the sensation of lips and tongue moving both sensually and salaciously against the contrived scar, urging kazuya towards climax while selfishly thinking that he does so just past the threshold of the other demon devouring his own flesh, putting a possessive mark onto his own skin…
fuck, fuck, fuck—he wants to come so badly, but he just doesn’t want to yet, not before he’s left a similar mark of his own on him. )
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
the feeling of kazuya’s tongue being forced into the wound forces a sharper, more higher-pitched whine out of makoto. at this point he really has trouble figuring out if it’s from pleasure or pain because he feels both so strongly; that, combined with how odd it is to physically feel someone’s tongue moving inside of you, forces it out of him beyond his attempt to contain. it precedes something that makoto only realizes after a belated moment of confusion must be magic. it washes over him like a sudden rain which stops just as suddenly as it had started, then again, and again, and it’s such an overwhelmingly confounding feeling that makoto can’t help but squirm underneath kazuya, made restless by the careful manipulation of magic coaxing something that would’ve otherwise been impossible upon this body: a scar, albeit a temporary one, placed with gratuitous devotion
by the end of it makoto is panting, likely just as desperate for release as kazuya is—but, just as easy as it would be to try to chase both of them to that end, there’s a part of makoto that’s just as greedy as it is foolish (and not to mention prideful), which doesn’t want to allow himself to come just yet because he wants the satisfaction of coming to doing exactly what kazuya had just done to him. so as kazuya reacts strongly to his touch, leaning forward to press his head to the curve of his neck and kiss the knotted scar that was the only testament to the wound that had been ravaged there moments before, makoto’s hand shifts to wrap fully around the other demon’s cock, for the moment neglecting his own to pump with shameless efficacy. he focuses on the sensation of lips and tongue moving both sensually and salaciously against the contrived scar, urging kazuya towards climax while selfishly thinking that he does so just past the threshold of the other demon devouring his own flesh, putting a possessive mark onto his own skin…
fuck, fuck, fuck—he wants to come so badly, but he just doesn’t want to yet, not before he’s left a similar mark of his own on him. )