#dom Asgore

[underlust-revisited]

Text: (TW: Mentions of Bad DOMMING Practices)

The Queen Toriel

-Knows of everything, she lived through it

-Mourning Mother, Ruthless Ruler

-Dom/BDSM

-Bi - She/Her

-She overtime started to be a very harmful in her BDSM scenes with Asgore (She is a BAD SHOWING OF DOMMING)

-Not a good Dom

———

I finished it yessssssss! I found my old designs, got distracted for 110 plus hours on baldurs gte3 then came back and made a design I really like! Thank you to @sb-underlust for inspiring me as well!!!!!

[scary-ivy]

I honestly hate "Underfell" sooo much because in my opinion it fundamentally misses the whole point of Undertale.

"Oh what if these friendly monsters were all evil and edgy instead?" as if the monsters being befriendable instead of inherently evil wasn't the whole refreshing gimmick of the original game. And also missing the nuance that most of the characters in Undertale aren't just "friendly and good", most of them are morally grey and fully willing to kill a 5-year-old for the greater good. It's the fact that they're capable of doing awful things that makes winning their friendship in the good ending so rewarding.

"Oh well it's really just about having fun seeing what the characters would be like with evil villain aesthetics" THEY'RE ALREADY MONSTERS. Sans and Papyrus are fucking skeletons, Papyrus literally acts like a Saturday morning cartoon villain and Sans gets a lot of creepy moments. Undyne wears a spooky suit of armor and has snaggly fangs. Mettaton is literally playing the part of a killer robot. Asgore is supposed to be visually intimidating and takes design cues from the devil. Drenching these characters in a shitty black and red color scheme adds nothing. This whole AU just exists to give people an edgy dom Sans to draw rule 34 of, but like, Sans already had an edgy and dark side in canon. He's a depressed nihilist who only refrained from child murder because a milf told him not to kill kids. There was no good reason for this AU to exist.

[vrnicky]

Masterlist 5.

**Suggestive

Oc's/aus/self inserts:

•List of outcode!sonas

S/o Taaffeite

•Frisk's/Chara's names

•G!boys names, jobs and personality

Clothes of g!boys

•Red!Undertale bros info

•Fellswap Wine info + characters names

•Fellswap Wine short summary of characters

Cute headcanons of human coming with familial and romantic intentions (ut, us, uf asgores)

•Danceswap bros + gaster and grillby

•UnderHell characters names

•Outerfell characters names + descriptions

UPDATED HEIGHTS

Dom/sub scale (all)**

Bunch of different headcanons. First, second and third place of strong, patient, horny, etc.*

Who uses different types of ecto + who uses it the most or the least

Matchups.

(Under progress, not done at the moment.)

Worldbuilding.

Scents

Soul traits' scents

Fusions

Cracks in souls.

Ecto magic.

Who have higher chances of twins or triplets

Chances of miscarriage top 10 + fertil ones

Checking outertale bros

Common prank in outertale

Outertale society

Outertale no nos

Progress with reaper boys! + death touch

Heats!

Government

Outertale.

Their favorite food

Something serious they regret doing

Something silly they regret doing

Their pet peeves

Their job and why they choose it

Common pets

Outerswap.

Small info about Comet

Danceswap.

Where do the ds bros live in? + their jobs

Something they regret giving up on

Getting an apology from someone they still dont forgive

A memory make them swell with pride

Best friends describe them

Farm boys.

Nicte character information

Outerfarm boys parents

Outerfarm childhood like

Normal day for outerfarm

Bosco near death experiencie

Swapfell crystal.

Hans favorite food, weather, color, season, kind of gift, flower

Is Hans a booty or tiddy man**

Hans love language giving and receiving

Hans ideal date

Hans hobbies + least favorite thing to do

A seagull steals his hotdog and s/o's hotdog

S/o slaps Hans booty

Hans' petnames + ones he enjoys

Hans gets catcalled + S/o gets catcalled

Hans type, qualities he looks for in a partner and physical qualities he finds attractive at first glance

[sanspacitodespapyrus]

Despacito (323925 words) by bwandrz Chapters: 30/? Fandom: Undertale (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Reader, Alphys/Undyne (Undertale), Asgore Dreemurr/Toriel Characters: Sans (Undertale), Papyrus (Undertale), Mettaton (Undertale), Alphys (Undertale), Undyne (Undertale), Burgerpants (Undertale), Nice Cream Guy (Undertale), Frisk (Undertale), Chara (Undertale), Toriel (Undertale), Asgore Dreemurr, Napstablook (Undertale), W. D. Gaster, Asriel Dreemurr, Grillby (Undertale) Additional Tags: Dancetale, Dancetale AU, despacito, Reader can sing, Mili, The Mili Project, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader Is Not Chara, Sub Sans, Virgin sans, Gentle Dom Reader, Depression, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Fluff, reader is female, Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Angst, Fluff and Angst, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, pillow humping, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mild non-con, Minor Character Death, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Sans POV scenes, Mention of Resets, Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Magical Vomit, And Reader likes it, did I mention slow burn?, We have a tag now, sanspacitodespapyrus, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, mentions of human trafficking, Sexual Trauma, communication is hot Summary: You are the lead singer of Mili, an up and coming band you formed with your long time friends. You’re finally at your next chance at a record deal when you’re once again turned down. Desperate for help, your manager cashes in for a favor and enlists Mettaton’s aid. With a single signature you’re thrust into the world of monsters. Now you’re being taught to dance by a prima donna robot with an unexpected and freshly internet famous dance partner: The tall, handsome, and destructively talented Desperado who starred in the internet’s newest viral video. While your life has altered significantly with your new role in Mettaton’s dance routine, Papyrus is a beacon of sunshine that keeps your spirits up. The two of you click instantly, and you become fast friends… If only his older brother felt the same.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 30's link is finally up! (My fiancé fixed it <3).

-@bwandrz

[twistofatale]

Twist of a tale chapter 2 part 2(

Frisk: Eem this seems great where do I go now?-

* Encounter starts *

Frisk: Umm what

Froggit: Hmmm hmmm hmmm

Frisk: * Uses act and selects check *

Froggit 5 attack 5 defense a good guy who just wants to see young buddies again

Frisk: Eeem that is sad

Froggit:....* uses a bug to attack which he eats because he is hungry he then attacks you with his tongue *

Frisk: * Dodges but gets one time by a tongue *

You feel pain.....you fall down and the Froggit left....you soon get up and try again

Frisk: That hurt

Frisk: I need to get better

* Gets out of the room Frisk failed in *

Frisk: Well we'll what do I go to?

Asgore: O look right there....a Human

Toriel: MY CHILD

Asgore: Frisk how are ya?

Frisk: :(

Toriel: Your hurt

Asgore: Welp you should take care of yourself

Toriel: Here

* Heals Frisk *

Frisk: Thank you

Asgore: It seems it times for to go right someone esle

Toriel: Asgore let's just tell Frisk what are we are going to do first

Asgore: It is one of my puzzles. The sheepish puzzle

Asgore: Alright let's go sweety :)

Toriel: * Leaves *

Asgore: Umm let's go * Leaves *

Frisk: Well that was quick....

Frisk: * Moves to the next room *

Frisk: Well this place seems blocky

Frisk: O a star thing

Frisk: Ummm well that is surprising let me just press it

The small and huge blocks allows for bad jokes banture

You are persistant to keep going

And you have perseverance to make it to the end

Frisk: Well it looks like I can go now-

* Encounter starts *

Frisk: Well this is alright

Stardom: HELLo

Frisk: * Uses act and selects check *

Stardom 5 attack and 3 defense a star who wants dom and hotness

Frisk: A star...?

Stardom: YE HE HE

Frisk: * Uses act and selects distract * Your Dom is right there

Stardom: Really? * Flees *

Frisk: Meh

Frisk: * Goes to the other room *

Frisk: What is that?

A scythe appears out of nowhere

Then it swings around you

Someone picks it up

A tall being comes to you

It holds the scythe, it looks at you, asks a question, and wants a answer.

Frisk: Umm....

Reaper bird: Are you a H u m a n?

Frisk: N-no

Reaper bird: You don't have to lie

Reaper Bird: You should die right now =)

Frisk: He he he

Reaper Bird: Fight

Reaper Bird 10 attack 4 defense A guy who is during he's best for his winged buddies

* Encounter starts *

Frisk: * Uses act and selects check *

Reaper bird: * Uses his scyth to hit you *

Frisk: * Dodges *

Frisk: That was close * Uses act and selects mystify *

Reaper Bird: O my 😵

Frisk: * Sees that he didn't take his turn *

Frisk: * Uses act and selects distract *

Reaper Bird: I'm too focused to be distracted

Reaper Bird: * Uses a bird attack which spawns birds that come from the east to the west *

Frisk: * Dodges but gets hit by a bird * 13/23 why :(

Frisk: * Uses act and selects Get ready *

Frisk: Bring it :)

Reaper Bird: * Uses a Scythe attack *

Frisk: * Dodges better *

Reaper Bird: Your smart and good and sweave

Frisk: This seems to do nothing

Frisk: * Uses act and selects Get Ready *

Your speed increased

Reaper Bird: Prepare * Uses a Scythe attack *

Frisk: * Dodges *

Reaper Bird: Your quite good but why won't you fight me?

Frisk: He I don't want to fight anyone

Reaper Bird: How strange-

* Gets thrown away by a fireball *

[shimby18]

Asgore and Toriel are in fact sub/dom (in that order)

[niche-character-competition]

Submitter's propaganda below:

Grillby:

Grillby is an extremely minor character in Undertale. He runs the bar and grill in Snowdin Town, which the protagonist Frisk visits once with Sans in a neutral or pacifist playthrough. He is quite tight-lipped, and only has two WORDS of canonical dialogue which the player needs to go out of their way to find; by backtracking all the way to Snowdin at the very end of the Pacifist Route. (Those words are "......good job.", if you were wondering.) Despite this, Grillby has a fairly devoted fanbase, and fascinatingly, consistent fanon for him has emerged. In the Grillster community in particular, Grillby is often portrayed as a war veteran and one of the few remaining monsters who survived the War Between Humans and Monsters (a war which is the backstory to Undertale, but which is only told through some slides at the beginning of the game, through missable signs and through brief dialogue with a shopkeeper), the others being Toriel, Asgore and Gerson (canonically) but a popular fanon addition being Gaster. His being a monster made entirely of fire is also regularly speculated upon, with a common consensus that he was created as a tool to aid in the war effort. Common themes to fics involving him have emerged, particularly overcoming past traumas and consideration of what constitutes a person. In my opinion, Grillby still thrives as a character outside of this reasonably niche but devoted ship (~300 total works on AO3 if I remember correctly?), and I feel as though his consistent, detailed characterisation in fanfic makes him individually notable enough yet still niche enough for this tournament, rather than Gaster who, despite also only having a very brief appearance in canon, is one of the game's most popular characters.

Beck:

Have you ever heard the story of Beck from Tron: Uprising? It's not a story Disney would tell you. This boy is kept alive by 5 people on tumblr resuscitating his body and not letting him be buried like disney wants him to be. he is a himbo, dom women enjoyer, snarky ass motherfucker voiced by elijah fucking wood. i love him so much

[dragonfics]

Summary: A short background fic to Argent Night detailing the events of Rus’s past - particularly pertaining to how he became a vampire, and the years following his transition.

WARNINGS: This chapter contains graphic rape - please do not read it if it’s something you’re not comfortable with. The events of Argent Night will still make sense without this fic--so please do not feel obligated to read it.

Chapter two will not contain rape, and can act as a standalone. (It does still deal with some mildly disturbing themes, however).

Tags: Underswap Papgore,  Rape/Non-con, Non-consensual biting, blood and magic, Vampire AU

Detailed trigger warnings are in the tags

Papyrus pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders as a chill breeze stirred the night air, swaying the long grass of the open fields that stretched for miles around him. Creeping shadows and dark, lifeless shapes loomed over the rocky pathway, and he kept his head bowed, trying to ignore the feeling of watchful eyes on his back. The gnarled branches of the scattered barren trees creaked in the wind, and Papyrus shuddered. He began to walk a little faster, unsettled by the eerily quiet night. The dim glow ahead promised a warm fire and a hearty meal, and Papyrus was more than eager to escape the desolate wilderness of the Ruins.

In the distance, beyond the small cottage shrouded in a grove of decaying trees, cold silver moonlight touched the peaks of pale mountains. By the time Papyrus reached the small garden that encased the cottage, he was shivering—both from the cold bite of winter and the deadly fright of the darkness.

The curtains had been drawn over the cottage’s windows, but Papyrus could see a golden light filtering through the seams that promised warmth. He knocked softly on the heavy wooden door, before curling back in on himself, his bones rattling.

The door opened almost immediately, and Papyrus felt some of the tension leave him at the sight of the large figure standing on the threshold. “asgore,” he breathed in relief, grinning up at the enormous, furry monster through the chattering of his teeth. “h-hey.”

Asgore seemed stunned for a moment. “Papyrus? I wasn’t…” But gathering himself, his face broke into a wide smile. Unexpectedly, he wrapped his arms around Papyrus, enveloping him in a crushing hug. Papyrus squirmed a little as he was pulled against Asgore’s chest. “How wonderful of you to come! If I had known, I would have made preparations. It’s been so long since…” He trailed off, quickly shaking his head. “Listen to me rambling! You must be freezing. Please, come in. I’ll make you some tea.”

Asgore guided Papyrus inside, his large arm still wrapped around his shoulders. Papyrus was greeted by the warmth of a crackling fire in the hearth, and the smell of fresh mint leaves stewing in a pot on the stove. He glanced up at Asgore. “sorry, am i… interrupting something?”

“No, no, not at all,” Asgore assured him. “I’ll always have time for you, Papyrus. Always. Here, take a seat, I’ll bring your tea to you—oh, and can I get you a blanket? You’re still shivering!”

Papyrus smiled, but shook his head. “there’s no need. thank you, asgore.”

“Are you certain?” Asgore probed. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Laughing softly, Papyrus gave another shake of his head. “really—i’m fine.”

“Well, if you insist… I’d better get your tea brewing. I won’t be long!” Asgore wandered into the kitchen, still muttering to himself. Sitting on the large sofa in front of the fireplace, Papyrus pulled his knees to his chest, letting his eye sockets fall closed. The warmth of the fire made his bones tingle pleasantly, expelling the lingering chill of the night air outside. He could hear Asgore bustling around in the kitchen, the sound accompanied by the chink of porcelain crockery.

Papyrus had been a little nervous about visiting Asgore again. It had been months since he’d last made the long journey from Snowdin to the Ruins, and part of him had feared Asgore had forgotten him.

But now that he was here, it felt like being home. He and Asgore had been friends for years, and Papyrus had long held a special fondness for the strange hermit. There was widespread belief through the kingdom that no one lived in the Ruins—but for small, insignificant scavengers among the rocks and in the mountains. But here Asgore dwelled—alone in his quaint cottage. Papyrus had been quite surprised when he’d stumbled upon it—but he was thankful he had. Asgore was a dear friend.

When Asgore re-entered the room, he was carrying a tray holding a steaming floral teapot, and a warm mug. He placed them on the table in front of Papyrus. “Oh no—don’t worry yourself,” he said quickly, as Papyrus reached for the teapot. “I’ll do it for you.”

“oh—uh, thank you,” Papyrus said, leaning back. Asgore beamed at him as he poured his tea. Handing him the mug, he sat beside him on the sofa, watching closely as he sipped it.

“How does it taste?” he asked eagerly, his crimson eyes bright.

“great,” Papyrus said, grinning. “mint? and…?”

“Honeysuckle,” Asgore told him proudly. Papyrus blinked, and Asgore laughed. “I know how fond you are of sweet things—I’ve had it sitting in my pantry for months.”

“that’s… awfully kind of you,” Papyrus said, taking another long sip from his mug. The warm liquid travelled through his bones, quenching the cold ache the journey had left. He sighed, sinking back into the soft cushions of the sofa. “so, how have you been?” he asked. “i—i’m sorry it’s been so long since i’ve visited. my brother…”

Asgore waved him off, shaking his head. “Oh, there’s no need for that, Papyrus. I’m only glad you’re here now. I have truly missed you, my dear friend.”

Much to Papyrus’ surprise, Asgore leaned close, looping an arm around his shoulders and tugging him against his side. Beneath his thick robe, Papyrus could feel the hardened muscle of Asgore’s body. Strangely, he emitted no warmth. But his embrace was comforting nonetheless, and Papyrus leaned into the touch, an involuntary hum of contentment building in his chest.

He remained beneath Asgore’s tender hold as he drank his tea, nothing breaking the silence between them but the crackle of the warm fire, and the howl of the wind outside. Papyrus could feel himself slowly drifting into a pleasant doze, the warm mug of tea resting on his lap. He’d been certain Asgore had fallen asleep too, until he interrupted the silence by asking, “Are you alright, Papyrus? Are you warm enough? Can I get you anything to eat?”

“don’t bother yourself,” Papyrus said softly, snuggling closer to Asgore. Something pleasant blossomed in his chest as Asgore rumbled softly, holding him tighter. “this… this is nice,” Papyrus whispered.

Asgore murmured his agreement, pressing his muzzle to the crown of Papyrus’ skull. Papyrus could feel his warm breaths against the bone, shivering as he dipped his head and pressed his mouth into the nape of Papyrus’ neck. His soul fluttering with a mixture of excitement and nerves, Papyrus went still, swallowing. “You smell good,” Asgore purred, his voice barely audible above the crackling fire. “You are good, Papyrus… so good…”

Papyrus could feel his face heating at Asgore’s words, magic rising to his cheekbones. He couldn’t hide his small smile, lowering his gaze as Asgore pressed himself closer. “It’s always wonderful having you here,” Asgore went on. “Stars, I’ve missed you, Papyrus. I’ve missed you so much.” His voice had taken on an almost guttural edge, and his breathing had become heavy.

Papyrus was still holding his mug of tea—it seemed to be the only thing preventing their bodies from being flush against each other. Asgore had Papyrus pressed against the sofa’s arm, and he was leaning over him with no room for personal space.

Papyrus was almost inclined not to mind—but the press of Asgore’s mouth against his neck drew him to a halt. “a-asgore—maybe we should slow down. i’m not sure if—” Papyrus broke off with a gasp as he felt something wet slide across his cervical vertebrae. Asgore grunted softly, cupping Papyrus’ skull in one of his large paws.

“Oh, you’re so sweet, Papyrus,” he murmured, his face still buried in Papyrus’ neck. “You’re perfect.”

Papyrus laughed softly, though the sound was tainted with a hint of anxiety. He attempted to shift away from Asgore, but the large monster had him trapped in his arms, his grip gentle, but tight around Papyrus’ back. “asgore, i—” Papyrus’ breath hitched as Asgore’s tongue caught on a sensitive notch of bone. “i think this m-might be too much. i—i don’t…”

Asgore hushed him, drawing back slightly to look at Papyrus. The red of his eyes seemed somehow brighter, and he wore a heated expression. Carefully, he pried Papyrus’ mug from his shaking hands, placing it on the table beside them. He ran his thumb over Papyrus’ jaw, cupping his face in his large hand. “It’s alright,” he whispered, sliding a hand beneath Papyrus’ legs to lift them onto the sofa. “It’s okay, you have nothing to worry about.”

Asgore dipped his head again, resuming his gentle laving of Papyrus’ neck. Papyrus, now completely pinned beneath Asgore’s body, began to panic a little. He attempted to push Asgore away, but Asgore barely seemed to notice. “asgore,” he whispered, a hint of urgency creeping into his voice. “i don’t think we should… i mean—this is nice—but i’m not sure if i’m ready t-to…”

“Relax,” Asgore breathed, his sharp canines catching on Papyrus’ vertebrae. “I’ll be gentle, Papyrus—don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

Papyrus started to struggle, writhing beneath Asgore desperately—but in vain. Asgore wouldn’t budge. “w-wait! please, asgore. i don’t—”

“Quiet, dear,” Asgore growled softly, running his thumb over Papyrus’ cheekbone. “Now, this may hurt a bit—but it’ll only be for a bit, I promise.” He leaned in again, his teeth grating over Papyrus’ collarbone. “Goodness, you smell nice—you smell delicious. It’s been so long since I’ve—” Asgore broke off, inhaling deeply. “Try to relax, my love. It’ll make it a lot less painful.”

Before Papyrus could even begin to question what Asgore meant, an abrupt, crippling pain lanced through his neck. He tried to scream, but the sound was muffled by Asgore’s large paw pressing over his mouth. As Asgore’s fangs pierced his bone, a sickening crack echoed off the walls of the small room, and Papyrus squirmed, fruitlessly trying to pry him off.

‘stop,’ he tried to say, but no sound but a stifled gurgling escaped him. He could feel something wet oozing down his neck, accompanied by more pain as Asgore changed the angle of his bite, sinking his teeth deeper into the bone.

Asgore groaned softly as he drank the magic leaking from the throbbing wound at Papyrus’ neck. He lifted Papyrus from the couch, enveloping him in his thickly muscled arms and holding him tightly against his solid chest. Papyrus’ struggles had already begun to weaken, his limbs growing heavy and slack. His whimpers were faint and his head ached as he lost more and more magic.

Just as he’d begun to slip into unconsciousness, Asgore released his neck, cradling his head as he withdrew. Through his clouded vision, Papyrus could see his own magic staining Asgore’s fangs (had they always been so sharp?). He choked out a whimper as Asgore leaned down to lick the spent magic from his neck, humming gently as his tongue pressed between Papyrus’ vertebrae. Sighing in satisfaction, Asgore closed his eyes—now a dull yellow. “Thank you, Papyrus,” he breathed.

Papyrus couldn’t move. His bones felt like they were made of lead, and his head felt as if it was full of sand—harsh and grating against the inside of his skull. He let out a hollow groan of protest as Asgore leaned down to kiss him. His tongue pressed into Papyrus’ empty mouth, finding every ridge of bone and soaking it in his saliva—mingled with Papyrus’ own magic. When he withdrew, he was smiling—the same smile he’d given Papyrus when he’d arrived on his doorstep not twenty minutes ago. The same smile he’d always given him.

Asgore wrapped his arms around Papyrus and hugged him to his chest. “Oh, Papyrus—that was amazing,” he whispered, exhaling in contentment. “Your magic is… it’s perfect.” Asgore lifted Papyrus into his arms, carrying him across the room and into the passage. “Come. Let me clean you up. I’ll take care of you, my love. I’ll look after you.”

Papyrus was limp in Asgore’s arms, with no strength remaining in him to fight back. His mind was a haze of pain and horror, and he could still feel magic dripping from the wound at his neck. He groaned quietly as Asgore lowered him onto the bed, but his voice was weak and barely audible. He tried to sit up, but found himself virtually immobile.

The room was dark, and Papyrus could only make out Asgore’s silhouette above him. He was standing still, looking over Papyrus, as if in thought. Slowly, he moved his hand downward to rest on Papyrus’ hip. It was only when his touch shifted lower, that Papyrus realised his magic had manifested itself.

Mortified, he tried to speak—to argue, to protest, to beg—but no words came out, only a soft, gargled moan. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, Papyrus,” Asgore said, gently, tilting Papyrus’ chin and forcing him to meet his gaze. His yellow eyes were tender, and his smile was soft.

Papyrus felt sick.

“It’s a common reaction to a vampire bite—and my venom is quite potent.”

Vampire bite?

Horror struck Papyrus as quickly as panic did, and he began to sob—the sound leaving him as nothing more than weak, strained gasps. He tried to writhe out of Asgore’s grip as he rested his hand on Papyrus’ ilium, stroking Papyrus’ magic tenderly through his clothes. “It’s alright, hush now, I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry, Papyrus. I’ll take good care of you.”

Papyrus tried to shake his head, but he could barely move, the venom in his system draining every shred of his strength. He wished the bite had been enough to render him unconscious as well, but his mind seemed stuck firmly in the dull state between sleeping and waking—paralysed, but aware of every unwanted stimulus prickling across his bones.

Asgore carefully removed Papyrus’ pants to reveal the soft glow of his summoned cunt. He smoothed a finger over the folds, and Papyrus twitched. Asgore looked up at him, his eyes bright and smiling. “It’s lovely, Papyrus. It’s perfect.” He climbed onto the bed and knelt over Papyrus, unbuckling his pants. Papyrus groaned desperately, his words stuck in his throat. He felt helpless. Pathetic.

Disgusting.

Through the faint light, Papyrus could see Asgore’s cock. It was huge. Far larger and far thicker than anything (or anyone) he’d ever experimented with. He whimpered brokenly as Asgore leaned over him, running his tongue over Papyrus’ parted teeth, and slowly dipping into his mouth. His cock rubbed lightly over Papyrus’ labia. Papyrus wanted to cry out—to plead with Asgore to stop. It wasn’t going to fit.

It only occurred to him then—with Asgore bearing over him—how massive Asgore was. A beast of a monster—with arms like sturdy pillars, strong enough to crush Papyrus’ bones into dust. Papyrus could feel the solid muscles of Asgore’s chest through his shirt. He was taller than Papyrus too—and at least three times as wide.

Papyrus felt pathetic. Incapacitated or not, he was completely at Asgore’s mercy

Asgore lifted Papyrus’ legs, holding them over his shoulder with one hand. In the moments he took to line himself up, Papyrus began to cry, wet tears trailing down his cheeks without so much as a sob escaping him. Asgore’s yellow eyes fixed on Papyrus’ face, and he thrust in with a grunt.

Papyrus screamed.

Or at least, he tried to. All that left him was a faint choke—pained and hopelessly weak. His magic was dry, and the stretch of Asgore inside him burned. Pain shot through his pelvis as Asgore began to thrust, his movements punctuated by deep, rumbling growls. Papyrus felt like a ragdoll in Asgore’s arms, his body slack and useless as Asgore took him at a brutal pace. His magic felt as if it was going to tear, sharp jolts of agony wrenching his entire body.

Asgore moaned, holding Papyrus against him. “Oh—oh, Papyrus. Oh, you feel wonderful—you’re perfect, Papyrus—you’re perfect.” His words were broken and heavy, carnal grunts leaving him with each vigorous thrust. His thick arms encased Papyrus’ body, their grip tight and crushing.

He halted for a moment, adjusting Papyrus so that he was seated on his lap, before he began to bounce him rigorously. Papyrus fell limp against his shoulder, his head hanging heavily against Asgore’s neck. Something wet trickled down his femur, but he had neither the fervour nor the desire to consider what it might be.

Outside, Papyrus could hear the rustling grass and the branches of the old trees creaking in the wind. Through the window, he could faintly make out the pale glow of moonlight kissing the tips of the faraway mountains. He could see shadows creeping across the windowpanes. He could almost feel the wind’s chill.

Inside, Papyrus could hear the rustling of sheets, and the creaking of bedsprings. He could hear Asgore’s animalistic grunts, along with the dull slap of skin on bone. He could feel Asgore’s tongue on his neck. He could feel the light touches of Asgore’s fingers over his spine. He could feel Asgore inside him, splitting him apart.

Papyrus barely noticed when Asgore sank his teeth into him again, fresh magic spilling onto the bedsheets and staining them a murky gold. The warm liquid seeped down Rus’s ribs and spine as Asgore drank. Papyrus’ entire body was engulfed in pain—dull, aching pain; sharp, piercing pain; cold, empty pain.

Asgore suddenly released a predatory growl, clinging to Papyrus until Papyrus thought he might break. Warmth flooded his cunt, and fresh tears fell from his eyes. Asgore moaned, whispering his name desperately as he held onto him, planting kisses down his cracked neck and collarbone.

“Stars, Papyrus—oh, Papyrus. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. Oh, thank you, Papyrus. Thank you.”

Papyrus prayed for the release of sleep, but his soul ran erratically in his chest, refusing to allow him to slip into unconsciousness. Asgore gently slipped out of him, and Papyrus felt something bitterly warm seeping from his stinging cunt. Looking down, he noticed a hint of red mingled with Asgore’s seed.

His own blood, he realised.

Carefully laying him down on the bed, Asgore tucked a pillow under Papyrus’ head, kissing every inch of him he seemed able to reach. Papyrus lay still and closed his eyes. He vaguely felt the bed moving as Asgore climbed off it, and heard him padding across the room. The sound of a door closing was followed by cold silence.

Even if Papyrus had been able to move, he wouldn’t have. The slick drip of magic down his neck and femurs left every bone in his body crawling. Everything ached, and his throat felt dry—despite the fact that he’d barely been able to make a sound the entire time. He heard a rattling sound that he took to be the wind at first—only to realise that it was his own bones, shaking.

His magic had yet to dispel itself, and Papyrus could still feel Asgore’s seed leaking out of it as it throbbed and twitched. The bites littering his neck and shoulders stung and itched, and his entire body ached from magic loss. He lay there, covered in filth and the salt of his own tears until Asgore returned.

He felt Asgore’s hands on his chest, resting there for a moment. His touch was tender and soft, his thumb stroking soft patterns over Papyrus’ sternum. Then he began to unbutton Papyrus’ shirt, until his ribs were bare, the chill of the night air weaving between them and making Papyrus shiver.

Papyrus wanted nothing more than to keep his eyes shut against whatever further defiling Asgore enacted upon him. He wanted to fall unconscious; to lose his sense of feeling; to disappear. But when Asgore moved to kneel over him again, Papyrus opened his eye sockets to look at him.

A sick bubble of nausea pulsed in his chest.

Asgore wore a gentle smile, his eyes bright yellow and tender. He cupped Papyrus’ face, stroking the tears away from his cheeks. “Summon your soul for me, Papyrus,” he ordered, quietly.

Papyrus stopped breathing, and his mind came to a screeching halt. He stared at Asgore, disbelieving. This… this was too far. No. He wouldn’t do this. Surely—

“Papyrus. I’d rather not have to do it for you—but I will.”

Papyrus tried to shake his head; tried to move; to scream; to fight; to do anything that might put a stop to this. But he was helpless. His body was paralysed, and his words couldn’t form.

Sighing, Asgore lifted his hand, and Papyrus felt something sharp and cold wrenching at his chest. He choked sharply, the sound weak and strangled. His soul hovered above his ribcage, its glow dull.

Asgore stared at it, his gaze frighteningly intense. Something primal flickered in his eyes, and his hold was firm as he grasped Papyrus’ soul. Cold dread filled Papyrus as he stared at Asgore and his bones quaked violently. Tears seemed beyond him.

Asgore was no longer smiling—he barely even looked at Papyrus as he brought the soul to his face, breathing in the scent of it. Papyrus shivered at the touch of his cold breath on its surface. Asgore’s lips pulled back over his teeth, a snarl curling his muzzle. His fangs extended, dripping with vile saliva.

When Asgore’s teeth pierced the surface of Papyrus’ soul, a harsh jolt rocked Papyrus’ entire body. His back arched off the bed, and he screamed—this time, not even Asgore’s venom was enough to keep the sound sedated. The noise of his cries sounded foreign to him—like those of a wounded animal in the night. Papyrus writhed and fought, his body involuntarily twitching at odd angles.  The pain was white hot—and yet somehow freezing cold at the same time.

Magic sprayed from the delicate organ, leaking onto Papyrus’ ribs through Asgore’s teeth. Asgore seemed enraptured, his eyes closed as bliss overcame his features. He sunk his teeth deeper—deeper—deeper. Papyrus felt as if he might shatter. Blood and magic filled his mouth as his soul was drained, and he coughed and choked weakly.

As his soul slowly turned translucent, his struggles became faint and inconsistent, the strength seeping from his limbs. When at last his conscious mind caved to the pain, his body went still, and the world turned black around him.

 ****

 The first thing Papyrus noticed when he awoke, was how cold he felt. He tried to wrap his arms around himself—only to find them pinned to his sides. Something large and heavy was pressed against his back, enveloping him tightly. He soon relinquished his struggles when he realised he would not be released any time soon.

It was only when his mind slowly regained its coordination that he became aware of the grating ache in his chest. His soul felt empty and raw—as if someone had taken a knife and scraped all the magic from it; and his bones felt dry and withered, lacking any true essence. He grunted softly in discomfort as the heavy arms tightened around him.

Something gruff rumbled against him, and Papyrus shuddered at the warm breaths on the back of his neck. “Good morning, Papyrus,” Asgore hummed.

Papyrus stilled, dread soaking his withered soul. Instinctively, he began to fight against Asgore’s hold, kicking and writhing in an attempt to escape. “Shh, it’s alright,” Asgore whispered, holding him steady. “Calm down, Papyrus. You’re alright, calm down.”

“y-you…” Papyrus swallowed and went limp, squeezing his sockets shut. “you killed me.” He choked on a sob, terror clutching his empty soul. He could still feel his own dry magic caking his neck and ribs—his body was covered in it. His soul throbbed desperately, a burning ache surging through his bones. “ah—i-it hurts,” he whimpered. “w-what did you do to me?”

Asgore hushed him gently, rubbing soft circles over Papyrus’ jaw with his thumb. “You’ll be fine, Papyrus. You’re just hungry.”

“n-no,” Papyrus said, frustrated. “i’m not—i should be dead.”

He felt Asgore’s grip on him relax slightly, before the great monster released a tired sigh. He turned Papyrus over, holding his gaze steadily. “You’re not dead. You’re in transition.”

“t-transition…?”

“You’re becoming a vampire, Papyrus—just like me.” Asgore smiled, as if Papyrus ought to be thrilled by the fact. He leaned in and touched his lips to Papyrus’ forehead in a soft kiss.

But Papyrus was frozen. His soul—his dead soul—was cold with dread. He could feel himself shaking, and again, his chest clenched painfully, reminding him how hungry he was. He couldn’t move or speak—couldn’t breathe (did he even need to breathe now?).

When Asgore carefully lifted him into a sitting position, Papyrus let him. He didn’t react as Asgore began to dress him in fresh clothing—far too big on him, but it was hardly important. Even when Asgore’s fingers grazed his pelvis, Papyrus barely flinched.

Everything hurt. His head, his bones, his soul—dull, burning pain scorched his entire body. A sick, churning feeling ignited in his chest as Asgore pressed their mouths together, running his tongue along Papyrus’ clenched teeth (Papyrus could feel a strange twinge in his canines—a sort of itch). “Come. Let’s find you someone to eat,” Asgore said at last, taking Papyrus’ hand and guiding him off the bed. When Papyrus didn’t move, Asgore turned, offering him a consolatory smile. “There’s no need to be afraid, Papyrus. You’ve been reborn—today marks the first day of the rest of your life.”

[badgertablet]

Whats ur opinion on sansgore/soriel?

i think sansgore is a soft, good ship!! i dont like, purposefully seek it out on ao3/tumblr/etc, but i dont mind it if come across it uwu

personally i dont ship soriel– i think they’re just good pals, but a lot of my friends do, so im ok with it! i just can’t really see toriel getting together with anyone else for  a long time because of her history with asgore. (i also mildly dislike her in canon personality and how the fandom treats her, so im biased)

 plus, sans says on the offical tumblr that “it’s not good to dismiss people, either. i mean… (the person) shouldn’t be written off as a “bad person.” something in their life led them to this point, you know? just remember: there’s a difference between protecting your friends and destroying someone for your own justice. for honesty’s sake, investigate the truth for yourself, then ask: how is this going to help people?” see here. and toriel (in my brutal, honest opinon) does that to asgore. repeatedly. (i could get more into this but this post is just supposed to be about shipping so ill cut myself off rn) i just really think that toriel and sans wouldn’t click well romantically, but friendship-wise i think they click hella well if that makes sense haha 

tdlr;; sansgore is a lowkey ship, soriel isn’t my favorite but i support people who ship it!! 

[a-weird-pokemon-family]

F/O List (although nobody asked)

I do accept headcanons and tag ideas!

(NOTE: I AM A PANROMANTIC ACE SO PLS NOTHING NSFW)

Romantic:

- Katie Mitchell (TMVTM) (Tag: The Mitchell and The Machine)

- Dom (Animal Crossing)

- Sherb (Animal Crossing)

- Sprinkle (Animal Crossing)

- Bianca (Animal Crossing)

- Skrawl (ChalkZone) (Tag: No Darkness Without Light)

- Melony (Pokemon Shield)

- Raihan (Pokemon Sword/Shield)

- Sundrop/Moondrop (Fnaf Sb)

- Mettaton (Undertale)

- The Helicopter (JSAB)

- Rapsheeba (ChalkZone)

- Chevre (Animal Crossing)

-Marshal (Animal Crossing)

Platonic:

- Rudy Tabootie (ChalkZone)

- Penny Sanchez (ChalkZone)

- Snap (ChalkZone)

- Aaron Mitchell (TMVTM)

- Eric and Deborahbot 5000 (TMVTM)

- Filbert (Animal Crossing)

- Cherry (Animal Crossing)

- Wade (Animal Crossing)

- Marnie (Pokemon Sw/Sh)

- Piers (Pokemon Sw/Sh)

- Leon (Pokemon Sw/Sh)

- Roxanne Wolf (FNAF SB)

- Montgomery Gator (FNAF SB)

- Glamrock Chica (FNAF SB)

- Sans (Undertale)

- Papyrus (Undertale)

- Almost all of the Madrigal Family (Encanto)

Familial:

- Opal (Pokemon Sw/Sh)

- Isabelle (Animal Crossing)

- Glamrock Freddy (FNAF SB)

- Toriel (Undertale)

- Asgore (Undertale)

- Julieta Madrigal (Encanto)

[underlust-revisited]

Hi Folks,

I wanted to share some of my thoughts on some characters I’m working on from the redesigns for.

Also asking for some design advice and help.

I have a design for Toriel but not Asgore. I have a couple reasons why but the primary reason is the type of kinks that Toriel and Asgore in the original canon of undulating are into are kinks I don’t like and don’t know much about.

I’m also on the Aroace side of things and I don’t mind s3x and some kinks but I think I’m pretty vanilla on things that don’t make me uncomfortable but bdsm and extreme Sub/Dom play is outside of my comfort zone now so I like fet!sh wear like leather and other s3xual stuff.(I mean look at undyne’s original outfit it’s so bad🫠🫠🫠)

…

But Toriel and Asgore are into bdsm and the extreme play I don’t like so…

Mom in a bit of a stand still

But

I really wanna make them due to their importance to the story.

So I wanted to ask would it be okay to make just more casual and reserved designs for them.

I’ll try and make a less safe version sometime later on but I didn’t want to sit on these designs any more

(Also I’m redoing undyne’s armor outfit too)

Also also I’ll need to remake Sans’s character info sheet too.



[bigoltrashpile]

What about some fluffy and suggestive hc for mafiatale asgore??

I’ve already done fluffy and smutty headcanons for normal Asgore, so you can check those out, if you want.  Anyway, here’s some for our mafia goat man!

Him and Toriel are only business partners now, no romance or marriage involved, so you don’t have to worry about some weird love triangle.

That being said, Toriel fully supports your relationship with him, and thinks it’s adorable!

His favorite thing is to see you in his clothes.  He’s so much bigger than you, so everything practically engulfs you, and it’s adorable!

He often asks you for advice with the business, because he wants a second opinion in most things.  He understands that his mindset isn’t the only one (he really learned that after he declared war on humans back Underground).

There’s not a lot of good spots for gardening in the city, but he makes do.  He likes to teach you about all the different flowers, and he loves gardening dates with you!  

Everyone in the city knows who you are, and not to mess with you.  He’s the most powerful monster in the world, so everyone is too scared to try anything.

If you’re ever feeling sad, he’s more than happy to cuddle with you until you feel better.  He’s huge, warm, and soft, he’s pretty much a giant teddy bear!

Smut beyond this point

He is HUGE

He’s so big that he’s scared that he’ll hurt you at first, so he’s nervous to actually start getting intimate with you.

He’s always sure to have plenty of foreplay, and to make sure that you’re ready for him before he tries anything.

If you use his horns like handles, he will melt.

He’s a soft dom, always putting your pleasure before his.

He loves it when you wear nothing but his suit coat or a shirt while you make love, it’s so erotic for him.

Another guilty pleasure for him is, before he actually fucks you, to rest his dick on your stomach, to show you just how far he’s going to reach inside you~

He also loves the noises you make, so be sure to be loud!  He doesn’t make a lot of noise, mostly just praise, groans, and a soft moan or two, he just loves how you sound!

[chocolatte-and-despair]

What’s Classic/Vanilla Asgore’s type?

INFORMATION ABOUT UNDERTALE ASGORE:

* His name: Asgore

* His age: Human age: 2304 years old, Monster age: 48 years old

* His height: 8'3 feet

* His yandere type: Gentle yandere

* His dere type: Dandere

* His Sexuality: Cisgender Male Heterosexual Demiromantic

* His preferred style: Dad fashion

* His preferred hobby: Flea market shopping

INFORMATION ABOUT UNDERTALE ASGORE’S TYPE:

* His Preferred gender: Female

* His preferred style (For his lover): Ethnic fashion

* His type: Someone who is gentle and wants to start a family. Maybe a soft spoke person, who would want to settle down with him. Someone who would want to get married as soon as possible. Maybe also someone who would want pets and likes gardening too. A tea lover like him too would be nice.

* His preferred height: Someone short (5′2 to 5′5)

* His preferred relationship with his family: Asgore would wish for you to get along with his children. He wasn’t the best father, so he doesn’t want to have a lover who won’t show his children love. 

INFORMATION ABOUT UNDERTALE ASGORE‘ SEXUAL PREFERENCES:

* His Preferred Genitals (For himself): Male genitals (8 inches long and 6 inches wide)

* His Preferred Genitals (For his partner): Female genitals

* His preferred role in the bedroom (For himself): Gentle dom

* His preferred role in the bedroom (For his partner): Pillow Princess

* His favorite position: Spooning

[yastaghr]

WIP Wed 6 May 2020

Here’s this week’s WIPs! Reminder that these are not finished, but I will post a snapshot of the winner to my accounts. The descriptions are below the link and in the poll. 

Link: https://strawpoll.com/s1398kpz

Insomnia and Cookies - Insomnia (Error/Dream) Fluff in a relationship developing series of snapshots

Sansgore exploration (NSFW) - Sans and Asgore's first time together (Our Skeleton universe)

Nightmare’s Gang of Wranglers - KillerCreamMare Wranglers AU

 Fem Dom (NSFW) - SpicyTacos (UF!Pap/SF!Pap) Smut with Edge as a fem dom!

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Rope Trick (baon)

Summary:   It wasn't that Stretch really minded being told what to do. He just had to weigh how much fun he would have obeying versus not.... 

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Role Reversal, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Sex, Lemony Goodness, Not Work Appropriate, Joking Reference To Using Drugs to Make Someone Take a Damn Nap

Warnings:  I do occasionally throw Not Work Appropriate content in this series, so if you missed it, note the tags. This chapter contains all that with a little light bondage. All happy-times and consensual.

part of the ‘by any other name’

Read on AO3

-or-

Read More Here

~~*~~

The thing was, Stretch didn’t really mind doing stuff when Edge asked. Sure, it wasn’t quite as fun when the requests were for tossing laundry in the dryer or washing the breakfast dishes, but hey, you took the good, you took the bad, learned about the facts of life, all that shit.

Sometimes, though, Edge didn’t ask so much as he…well, ordered, and Stretch wasn’t sure if it was an ex-captain of the guard thing or if it was just an Edge thing, but if he were really, really honest, he didn’t mind that very much, either.

He highly suspected that Edge knew he didn’t mind, too, but it didn’t mean he had to make it easier for him, did it? Nope.

So, when Edge came up behind him on the porch that afternoon and loomed, Stretch gave him a minute to glare, smoking the last of his cigarette before he asked, lazily, “okay, baby love, what exactly has you in a twist on this fine, fine day?”

Didn’t hurt that the faint tightening of his jaw told him that Edge wasn’t any fonder of his new pet name than he had been ‘momma bear’. Stretch planned to draw that minor annoyance out for a while yet, hell, yes, he did. It was always worth it in the end.

“Go take a shower and meet me in the bedroom,” Edge told him curtly before he turned on his heel and walked back into the house, leaving Stretch on the porch with a half-burned cigarette and an equally burning curiosity.

He took enough time to finish it before he stood up, groaning as his joints popped. Okay, he’d bite and see where this was going to take them. Sure as hell wasn’t like he had any better plans, especially not if he took Edge’s resourcefulness into account. His bones were already tingling a little thinking about it.

Edge was nowhere around when he went in; off somewhere plotting manically, he guessed, and that was all right. At least Stretch’s end of this bargain was an easy one.

If Stretch had to guess, he’d say washing up was because he’d been smoking like a chimney for the past couple days as ciggies were the only thing keeping him from running screaming out into the unforgiving world/their neighborhood, and he didn’t want to scare any of the kiddos that way.

Stretch knew a little something about the time/space continuum and if he didn’t know better, he’d say they were stuck in a fluctuation because this week was starting to seem pretty fucking endless and that was a fact.

Sure, he loved having Edge around, but that also meant having Edge around. When he wasn’t off taking extra jogs through the neighborhood or filling their already overflowing freezer with neatly labeled packages, he was prowling through the house like a caged leopard, cleaning everything so thoroughly that Stretch was pretty sure he’d seen the furniture cringing away from him.

Edge seemed to be struggling a little with the whole ‘relaxing’ thing he was supposed to be doing, and his struggle was becoming Stretch’s battle.

It wasn’t like he had any good recommendations to share. Naps were Stretch preferred stress relief, and yeah, he wasn’t getting Edge to take a damn nap without chloroform, which Stretch suspected went against that whole ‘love and cherish thing’ he’d promised not that long ago. His fault for not reading the fine print.

Television was the next best option, but that was usually a nighttime activity for them, one that involved copious cuddling and maybe some sex. Stretch hadn’t been able to convince Edge that ‘Travel Man’ would be just as excellent at lunchtime.

(he could have gone to the lab to escape for a while, could have, hadn’t been back to the lab since…and the first time he’d tried, he’d only gotten to the door and frozen, dread thick in his soul, and he couldn’t force his feet to go down the stairs, he couldn’t, and…and…and…)

…yeah, much as he loved Edge, he was this close to saying fuck it all and calling Asgore, begging him to let Edge come back to work early, if only to spare his own sanity.

So, hell, yeah, he’d gone right upstairs for a shower when Edge told him. Didn’t half-ass it, either. Stretch scrubbed up with plenty of body wash on the weird pink bath poof that Edge had bought, and who came up with these things? Whoever it was, Stretch owned them a G or two, because seeing Edge using it with great dignity in the shower every morning was worth getting up early for.

Stretch soaped up thoroughly, sudsing away any hint of cigarette smoke. Instead of putting on his dirty clothes back on, he tossed them into the hamper and went to the bedroom in just a towel, dewy-fresh as a spring virgin.

Only to blink at what Edge was wearing, his towel wilting in his grasp.

The roads were kinda treacherous in the winter, or so Stretch had been told, and Edge always put his motorcycle into storage when the weather turned snowy. That was a good thing, his baby was all about safety, but the bad part was Stretch missed seeing Edge in his leather pants during the winter months. It was a view that made him long for warming sunshine of spring.

Apparently, Edge had decided to use this opportunity to break them out a little bit early. The belt hit his pelvis below the curves of his iliac crests and he was wearing a cut-off black t-shirt that left the intricate lines of his spine on display, the whole ensemble paired with elbow-length red gloves.

It was disconcertingly similar to what he’d been wearing when they’d first landed in this universe and even then, Stretch had noticed how attractive Edge was; he’d been depressed, not fucking blind.

The only difference was his bare feet, pale bone against the dark carpet of their bedroom and Stretch let himself focus on that for a minute, trying to gather up his fleeing wits.

“if i’d known we were roleplaying, i would’ve picked a better costume.” Not too bad; at least he’d managed a decent level of sass.

A quick glance up confirmed that Edge heard the roughness in his voice, damn it. He smirked, cocking his hips in a way that made all the magic in Stretch’s mouth go dry.

“What you’re wearing is perfect,” Edge said. He crooked a finger at Stretch. “Come here.”

He did, but he took his damn time about it because he wasn’t a puppy that came when he was called. Unfortunately, standing in front of Edge with all that tantalizing bone within reach was exactly where Stretch wanted to be, so it kinda ruined his defiance.

With two fingers, Edge plucked the towel loose, letting it fall to Stretch’s feet and leaving him completely bare. He gave the newly exposed bones a long, slow look before he said, “Get on the bed.”

Oh, so that’s how they were playing? Stretch didn’t move, only asked sweetly, “what’s the magic word?”

Edge coolly raised a brow bone at him. “Is it worth hearing me say it once, knowing that I’ll have you screaming it later?”

“promises, promises.” But Stretch grudgingly did it, fussily making himself comfy in the middle of the bed with his head on one of the pillows. The way Edge’s eye lights raked down him made magic flush in his joints, stirring in his pelvic cavity and Stretch forced himself not to squirm. Didn’t want Edge to think he was too eager, not yet, anyway.

That was when he caught sight of the length of rope in Edge’s hand.

There was no way to hide the bright surge of his magic flaring, but Stretch went with nonchalant anyway. May as well make the attempt. “planning something special, babe?”

“I know you’d let me tie you up, if I asked,” Edge said bluntly. He held out the rope and let it dangle from his fingers. The end brushed against Stretch’s femur, scratchily ticklish.

Yeah, okay, fuck nonchalance.

“fuck, yes, i would,” Stretch breathed. Almost automatically, he lifted his hands over his head, crossing them at the wrists in blatant invitation. Edge’s eye lights narrowed, the crimson deepening.

“But I find I’m uncomfortable with the idea.” It took a moment for the meaning to filter through and once it did, Stretch could only blink in surprise, some of his desire fading back. “I haven’t been able to get past the idea that it might hurt you, love, and I wouldn’t be able to stand that. I couldn’t.”

“okay,” Stretch said, slowly. There wasn’t much point in arguing about it; he could snarl about his low HP and intent until the universes turned over again and shook them out someplace new, but in the end, Edge felt how he felt, and it was his choice. Sooooo…what was up with the rope? “then what did you have in mind?”

Edge shifted to put a knee on the bed, leaning over where Stretch’s hands were still above his head. He set the length of rope in Stretch’s hands and gently closed his fingers around it. It was soft in his grasp and Stretch could easily picture Edge testing lengths of rope, making sure to find something that wouldn’t be rough or irritating on his bones.

“I want you to hold that,” Edge told him. One gloved finger traced lightly over Stretch’s and he tightened his grip reflexively. “Keep your hands there, and don’t let go.”

“is that all?” Stretch asked skeptically and Edge hummed in amusement.

“No, as a matter of fact,” he said lightly. “I want your promise that you won’t let go.”

Oh, that was dirty pool, wasn’t it. But if that was the way Edge wanted to play…

”i promise.”

“Don’t let go,” Edge warned, and that earned him a scowl because Stretch had promised, hadn’t he? But that was okay, Stretch knew all his warning buttons, too, and knew exactly how to push them.

“you got it, boss.” Stretch didn’t miss the way Edge went briefly still, the faint tremor that went through him.

He leaned down, close to Stretch’s ear canal, and whispered, “Careful, don’t earn yourself a debt that you can’t repay.”

Stretch only tilted his skull until it gently knocked against Edge’s. “my mouth has been writing blank checks since i was born. we going to play or not?”

In answer, Edge moved down the bed to straddle Stretch’s femurs. The leather of his pants against his legs matched the leather of his gloves, buttery-soft, rasping against bone as he ran his fingers down Stretch’s rib cage, tracing his sternum, the fragile lines of his collarbone.

His touch was so familiar and once upon a time, in another world when he was another person, Stretch would have thought he’d get bored of hands that knew him so well. He might have laughed about it carelessly and moved on to the next anonymous body, and hands that didn’t know a thing about him and didn’t care to.

Now he could only whimper softly, the rope laying heavy in his own hands as Edge lingered at places he knew were sensitive; the spot where his ribs met his sternum, teasing the cartilage of his spine within his rib cage. Edge knew him, knew every part of him, and Stretch craved that touch like his own breath.

Those gloved fingertips skirted along his pelvis, swirling the heavy cloud of unformed magic that surged towards his touch.

Weakly, Stretch managed a teasing, “what are you thinking? pick a toy, any toy, babe, and you can play all you want.”

Edge took hold of his pubic symphysis firmly enough to make Stretch yelp, hooking his finger into the notch, and said bluntly, “I want your cock.”

The words were barely spoken when his magic took shape, giving Edge what he’d asked for. He took hold of the shaft in both hands, rubbing his thumbs up the underside, his weight holding Stretch down when he moaned and tried to lurch up into that touch.

“Beautiful,” Edge whispered, “Your cock is always so beautiful.”

Stretch squirmed, feeling magic heating in his cheek bones. He had a little of a love/hate thing going for the way Edge liked to talk about him. He didn’t want to hear that shit, except for how he desperately did, he didn’t want to want to hear it—all his fumbling thoughts shorted out when Edge shimmied down to crouch over him, tonguing lightly at the head, a smear of orange magic vibrant against the crimson of his tongue.

“fuck,” Stretch croaked out, twisting the rope in his hands, feeling the slight burn as it abraded lightly against the bones. Edge’s mouth was hot, always, the lush warmth of his magic reflective of his HP. The curl of his tongue was teasing, refusing to find a rhythm and when Stretch tried to arch up, firm hands settled on his pelvis, holding him down implacably.

Distantly, he had to give Edge credit; whether he’d come up with the idea himself or he read about it somewhere, trying to keep his hands tight around the rope while Edge was taking him apart with equal parts gentleness and calculated ruthlessness was nearly an unbearable struggle.

It took every ounce of his dwindling restraint to keep from grabbing Edge’s head and make him stop teasing, fuck, he couldn’t, he—

Even if he could have covered his mouth with his hands, there was no way Stretch could have smothered his cry of disappointment when Edge drew away, licking his teeth clean. The heavy way he was breathing was satisfying at least, the hot, crimson glow of his eye lights promising.

When Edge unzipped his pants, Stretch expected him to pull out his cock, hoping that maybe they’d get some nice, simple frottage going. He loved it when Edge held their cocks together, the slick slide of their magic in his fist, and both of them coming over the deep crimson of Edge’s glove would be a lovely sight.

Instead, he moved to slide his pants off entirely and Stretch was not expecting it to reveal the soft folds of a cunt.

“edge…” Stretch started, concerned. Two gloved fingertips resting lightly against his teeth silenced him.

“Trust me to know what I want,” Edge told him softly.

“i trust you,” Stretch whispered hoarsely, because he did, he trusted Edge with his life, his soul, his sanity, everything, but not always with himself. He still couldn’t help but watch as Edge straddled him again, slipping a hand between his own legs to circle a thumb over his clit.

“I’ve been practicing,” Edge groaned, his hips pushing into his own touch.

That sounded ungodly hot. The thought of Edge alone on their bed with his knees spread wide and two fingers deep inside of himself…or maybe using a toy, teasing himself with a dildo or a vibrator. Stretch wouldn’t have been the slightest bit surprised to find out that Edge had thoroughly researched best practices for learning to orgasm through penetration. It had taken him a little while to get into the physicality of sex, but once he had, Edge was the furthest thing from prudish about it.

Even from here, Stretch could see his pussy was glistening wetly and hell, maybe he’d missed a show while he was in the shower, what a fucking shame.

He only noticed how hard he was gripping the rope when his fingers started aching and Stretch forcibly relaxed his hands even as he caught his breath, not even blinking as Edge shuffled back, reaching between them to hold his cock, guiding it to press against slick folds.

“ah, fuck, fuck, babe,” Stretch gasped as Edge slid down. He couldn’t look away, watching his cock disappear into him. Edge’s sockets were closed, his tongue caught lightly between his teeth and he was so gorgeously tight, lushly wet. He took his time, moving agonizingly slow, until Stretch was deep inside him, feeling his cunt clenching sweetly around him as Edge settled against him.

“There,” Edge said hoarsely. He opened his sockets, his eye lights wide and soft, spreading his hands out on Stretch’s rib cage for balance. The first tentative shift of his hips dragged a cry from deep in Stretch’s soul. They’d only done this a couple of times before and it had been nothing like this, any of his own pleasure muted, washed away by Edge’s obvious discomfort in it.

Nothing at all like this, with Edge finding a rhythm, clumsily at first and then moving with more confidence. Shifting and squirming until he found an angle that left both of them gasping. Edge moved faster, his jaw dropping open as groans strangled out of him, his own control shaking loose as he moved harder, relentlessly.

Stretch struggled against the rope as if it was actually binding him, because wasn’t it? Binding him with a promise and he could only clutch it, grinding it painfully into his finger bones and he could only let Edge ride him, the tight softness of his cunt easing and then sucking him in each time Edge rose and fell. It was too much, it was unbearable, all the heated magic in his bones coalescing into a hot point of pleasure.

“oh, fuck, i can’t—” was all Stretch managed to choke out and then he was coming, his magic flaring with the throes of his orgasm, and he didn’t let go of the rope, he didn’t, shaking and whimpering, and coming inside Edge with a hot flood. It lasted a tiny eternity until he collapsed back against the mattress, sweat dripping from him and Edge still on top of him, unmoving while Stretch slowly went soft inside him.

Um, yeah, he hadn’t actually ordered a side of humiliation with his sex today.

“fuck, i’m sorry,” Stretch said miserably, closing his sockets against the embarrassed heat rising in his face. Sure, it had been a long time since he’d had sex that way, but damn, Edge never came before him, always made sure he was satisfied and the first time Edge had really been enjoying penetrative sex, Stretch had gone off like a fucking firecracker.

Soft leather brushed his cheek bone, fingertips grazing, “No need to apologize for that, love, you’re beautiful when you come. And it isn’t as if I’m bereft of other options.”

A quiet, wet sound made him open his sockets in time to see Edge sliding a hand back between his legs, gloved fingers rubbing where they were still joined. His moans were soft, eager, and he moved into his own touch, his pelvis rocking minutely as he rubbed his thumb against his clit.

Stretch’s hands flexed, his sore phalanges clenching around the rope, desperate to join Edge’s, to touch him and watch pleasure flare in his eye lights.

“let me help,” Stretch pleaded.

“No, I don’t think so,” Edge panted, all his collectedness lost, his bones gleaming with sweat. “You want to be forgiven? Then you can watch.”

And he did, until his sockets ached with dryness, unable to look away as Edge’s little movements went jerky. The leather of his glove was soaked with mingled orange and red, his come seeping out to slick it, trailing obscenely down Edge’s femurs.

His fingers moved faster, almost desperately, and Stretch watched as Edge stiffened and came with a cry, shuddering and jerking, his magic sparkling brilliantly in brief, gorgeous flare. Soon enough he sagged down to sprawl heavily across Stretch, all awkward bones grinding against each other. He stirred quickly enough, before his weight was too much, shifting up on his elbows but Stretch didn’t notice.

Instead, he was trembling desperately, stuttering out, “please, uncle, okay? please let me…let me… i need to…i need…please…”

“You can let go,” Edge told him hoarsely and instantly, Stretch’s arms were around him, fumbling over him. Sweat slicked his hands as he tried to touch Edge everywhere, needed to touch him, his fingers scraping against his ribs and spine, grazing between his legs and drawing a hiss from Edge as they slid clumsily against his still-sensitive cunt.

“beautiful, fuck, baby, you were so beautiful, i love you, i love you so much,” Stretch babbled out, quieting as Edge soothed him, stroking him and settling him. He pulled the comforter around them both before their sweat cooled enough for Stretch to feel chilled.

When Stretch was calmer, curled up drowsily against him, Edge took hold of one of his hands carefully, lifting it and frowning at the lightly chafed bones.

“don’t start fretting, edgelord,” Stretch mumbled sleepily. “that’ll be gone in a couple hours and you know it.”

“it was supposed to be a way to keep you from being hurt,” Edge said softly. He pressed a gentle kiss into Stretch’s palm. The heat of his breath was soothing.

“believe me, i’m not complaining,” Stretch said dryly. Tired as he was, he managed to tip his head up enough to look Edge in the face. “if that was hurting me, consider this an open invitation to do it again, anytime.”

The emotions that flitted across Edge’s face went too fast for Stretch to interpret before they disappeared beneath Edge’s normal stoicism. Not much use in pushing the point right now and Stretch snuggled back into the comforter, resting his cheek against Edge’s sternum. Bone against bone wasn’t perfectly comfortable without a thin cushion of clothing between them, but Stretch wasn’t about to let Edge go long enough to put on some pajamas, not now.

Beneath his cheek bone he could feel the delicate pulse of Edge’s soul, unmanifested but it was there, its presence strong and comforting. Even better, he could feel Edge’s breathing evening out and Stretch smiled a little, cuddling closer.

This wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined getting Edge to take a nap, but he had to admit, it was better than his plan.

Getting chloroform was a bitch, anyway.

-finis-

[awkward-ark]

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Undertale (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Reader Characters: Sans (Undertale), Papyrus (Undertale), Toriel (Undertale), Flowey (Undertale), Undyne (Undertale), Alphys (Undertale), Asgore Dreemurr Additional Tags: mafiafell sans - Freeform, Mafia Sans (Undertale), Bara Sans (Undertale), Big Sans (Undertale), Smol Reader, tiny reader, Time Travel, Possessive Sans (Undertale), Making Shit Up As I Go, recreational alcohol use, reader doen't know she has magic, drunk magic is not safe magic, Dom Sans (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), reader is a bean, and easily flustered, sans takes full advange of it, Reader is a painter, reader is an oceanology nerd, full reminder that Sans is a bad man, even if he cares about her, Hostage Situations, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, sans is 7'10", reader is 5'0", Papyrus is 9'5", Toriel is 10'0", most monsters are smaller, all boss monsters are fucking huge, cause i can, Size Difference Summary:

He had been having dreams of the same cute little drunk human for almost a year now. They were vivid and she was fun to talk to, and he was convinced that his 'dreams' were accidental manifestations of her magic. Magic she didn't even realize she had. But that magic may have just pulled her into a world of danger.

(not sure where I'm going with this but I love mafiafell sans. Lets see how this goes. Constructive criticism welcome. I'm a writing noob.)