#i am however paying him partially back

[lvrhughes]

y’all

[httpiastri]

paul aron x reader, 18+

"you've made quite the mess here, love."

a scoff slips past your lips, a look of feigned offense appearing on your face. "me?" you exclaim, shaking your head. "i think you're just as guilty as i am."

"possibly," paul answers with a shrug. "but you were the one who looked so irresistible that i couldn't wait until we got back home." his hands move from your hips up to cup your cheeks, guiding your face down to his height and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "now, i think you should slip off me so i can clean you up properly."

he leans over to the passenger's seat, pulling open the glove compartment and grabbing a box of tissues. "what if i want to stay here forever?"

he shakes his head, looking down with a grin as he pulls a few tissues out of the box. "you're a mess. i can buy new pants, sure, but…" his other hand lands on your hip again, giving you a few pats. "i can't have you leaking on the seats."

this has you rolling your eyes. however, you place your hands on his shoulders, beginning to slide off his length. "of course, your dear porsche. how could i forget?"

"oh, don't pout," he says, a hint of that teasing smile still on his lips as he starts wiping at the inside of your thighs. "you know i love you both equally."

you press your lips into a straight line, just staring at him silently for a few moments. "glad to know i'm equal to a car."

"to a porsche," he's quick to correct, grin growing bigger by the second. "now, come on and sit back a little so i can clean you up properly."

you let out an exaggerated sigh but oblige, tilting your hips slightly so that he can reach between your legs to wipe away some of your combined juices. he's so gentle, a bit of a contrast to how he acted mere minutes ago when he thrusted up into you, and he really takes his time to make sure to get every last drop with the tissues.

"you know i'm just kidding, right?"

most of the time, paul hides behind this tough, cold and careless exterior – but you know better than that. you know about the gentle, warm and loving person hiding beneath that mask; the boy who needs to be reassured even in moments of clear jest such as this one.

he visibly relaxes when you nod, putting aside the used tissues into the little trashcan he keeps on the floor of the backseat. "just wanted to make sure," he mumbles, partially to himself, before taking a deep breath. "you're the most important thing in my life. and i love you so much."

his hand meets your cheek again, tilting your head to the side before pressing a sweet kiss to the sensitive spot below your ear. "i love you so much, too," you respond easily.

"good." his fingers move up to brush a few loose pieces of hair out of your eyes. "because no matter what, i'm completely and utterly yours. no matter how much i may fawn over my porsche."

"well, i mean… i understand it." you shrug. "you didn't pay hundreds of thousands for me…"

"right? you see my point, don't you?"

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * A lesson to Learn — Gojo Satoru

Tw: no smut but very very suggestive; Reader is like 4-5 years younger than Gojo; idk? Not proof read; Gojo’s mean :(

“What were you thinking?” A growl met your ears, panting, you dare not look up at him—“was it necessary to be acting like a fuckin’ child? Huh?”

It was the first Satoru had used a harsh tone in front of you- let alone at you- it was baffling in most senses.

More baffling was the way your eyes yearned to look at his annoyed stature, to see his face contorted with rage—baffling was the way you partially did it to get his attention.

Stranded that you stood with him, the middle of nowhere blanketed your forms—a clearance.

“Well?” A lick of your lips, you raised you head finally, hesitantly, a hand on his hip and the blindfold entirely off—you would’ve almost cowered at the way he glowered at you.

“I-” you paused, what explanation would you offer?

There was nothing except the blatant truth that you had wanted his attention, his praise- something he’d been generous with for the past many weeks with his students.

Another lick of your lips, had you known the way Satoru stared at you in this moment still, enamouring all the more.

Slow, your eyes trailed at his figure—his shirt lay sweat soaked, breathy pants his too, it was a tough mission, and he was right too—all you actually was hinder him.

The vision was clear, you were on the ground, as a heap—not a scratch on your face, Satoru wouldn’t ever let that happen after all—he stood unscathed too, “what? Huh? Are you that much of a moron? Don’t fucking follow me, simple instructions- hell my first years carry out instructions better than you.”

Defiant, in the way he spoke—“listen, Toru’ I just… I don’t know what came over me— you went alone and Ieiri told me it’s a tough mission so I just wanted to-”

“-help? By getting your ass handed back to you? Let some things remain in the hands of those who do it best,”

Your face fell at that, best? Sure you weren’t as good as him but…it wasn’t that you were weak?

“I just wanted-”

“No. I’ll tell you what you wanted,” and a sudden way your face flushed, it wouldn’t be that he knew…right?

“You wanted nothing more than my attention huh? Think I don’t notice your shit? Wearing those short fuckin’ skirts to “look over” the training? Giggling around with Nanami? Think I don’t notice your need for my attention? Really? Gonna drop so low to compete with kids for it?”

You’d known it was mostly shameful but just the way he reminded you, the way he was doing nothing but berating you—you couldn’t help the blurry vision your tears suddenly provided.

“Get up,” he scoffed, “C’mere,” you hesitated, did he know you were down there with tears in your face—of course he did.

He was Gojo Satoru.

Steady, you stood up, shaky from the entire experience, shy of becoming just a mess—you stood up, Satoru moved closer and suddenly the proximity was all you could notice.

You were sure, as you stood inches away from him, he was still calling you out—calling off your sheer idiocy but however could you pay attention to that when all you could focus on was the way his abs were visible slightly through the shirt—the way his glossy lips never stopped moving—the way visions of his hand lifting you so casually came flashing in right about now—

“You’re such a whore huh? Here I am going off about how stupid you’ve been and All you wanna do is stare at me?”

Another moment of your ears tipping so hot it was hard to bear it—“n-no I-”

A hand held up, placed quick on your waist, “if a bad girl is what you’re gonna act like then I don’t have issues teaching you a lesson- hell I think that’s the only way your perverted little brain can think,”

A shaky breath was all you could let out, gulping at the facts he presented, and for a second silence that befell you—you stared at his lips, his, yours.

Just a lean in and you could taste him, and lean in he did, fingers gripping your jaw slight, a dark smile he bore.

Your breath hitched- mouth falling open, you continued staring dumbly, a scoff he passed—“as is you like acting stupid school girl who wants attention right? About time you get enough of it—and before the kiss…I think there’s a lesson I gotta drill in,”

“Here?”

An internal face palm you offered yourself—of everything sketchy about possibly having a suggestive conversation with Gojo Satoru, the strongest, someone you’ve admired ever since your first year (and his sudden stops at the school to catch up with everyone), someone who’ve dreamt of since you were 16 and now 24 — the location should’ve been the last of your issues.

A humourless chuckle he passed, “always knew there was a slut in you somewhere,”

A small pout drifted onto your face at that—now uttering a humoured chuckle, his fingers traced your cheek—“don’t think for a second you’re off the hook, y’er just lucky that I’ve wanted you slightly more than you, me.”

Yeah, y’all fuck like bunnies after this <3 I may or may not expand on to it soon.

All of this work is original and entirely my own— please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[straws-and-sunflowers]

I'm curious but what are some of your lawlu headcanons???

*cracks knuckles*

Luffy wise:

* before Law, Luffy was never in any sort of relationship, too focused on the next adventure to really indulge in things like that- cause it was the last thing occupying his mind

* When Luffy first encounters his interest in Law it’s at Sabaody but it’s just curiosity, after Marineford he feels indebted to him and it really kind of happens on Punk Hazard.

*Luffy despite how blunt and straightforward he is- like any normal hormonal human being experiences anxiety. It’s quiet anxiety when it’s not comical or fight wise but more emotion based and it happens a lot around Law! It’s a lot of- “Oh wow! Wait am I being too much?? Nah!” And similar things like that. He gets a lot more fidgety and squirmy near him and often in the night will be lying awake during his pining period and over the course of the alliance he’s lying in bed and he’s just kind of like “fucccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.”

* He is NOT the first to confess, loss is a prominent thing in wanting to be strong enough to stop it-but how do you be strong enough to keep someone like Law around?

* He does however stare at the mirror sometimes and pretends to be Law and himself trying to work out a confession that might impress the other with fanciful words

* His entire crew is aware (you’re not slick)

* When he finally receives his first kiss from Law- he fucking explodes-not literally…his entire face is red for the rest of the day and he’s jumping up and down like a maniac

* and since Law is essentially his first everything he cherished those feelings like treasure, (it fucked him up when Doflamingo made fun of his and Law’s relationship- he got really unnerved)

* He’s just a lil guy- and affection from Law makes his head spin in circles, he doesn’t mind letting someone else guide him for once, it’s relieving having someone he can fall back on, emotionally and otherwise. After all, Law’s seen him at his most vulnerable how could he not trust him?

Torao wise:

Law doesn’t get slapped in the face until Dressrosa, it’s curiosity at Sabaody, empathy at Marineford, surprise at Punk Hazard and then holy shit Luffy just fucking destroyed that bitch

Law isn’t great with people- but he’s not an idiot. He took one look at Luffy staring at him with heart eyes, caught him mumbling pick up lines under his breath that he most definitely learned from Ace and then squinted.

It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

Law’s been in “relationships” but it was experimental shit and he wasn’t ever fully invested, I imagine it happened just throughout because Penguin, Shachi, Bepo kind of pushed him towards it… when it came to Luffy the feelings were so vastly different that it made him go to his friends and be like “I’m sick”

He was not sick.

Over the course of the alliance, Law just in general realizes how fucking funny it is that they both kind of like each other, and he’s a jackass so he kind of pokes and prods sometimes with light flirtations- and Luffy obliviously prods back- it’s a weird ass banter they share, and it’s comfortable

But of course with ups there must come downs and much like Luffy getting anxious over everything he does so does Law! But while Luffy’s is more directly tied to his self worth, Law is more about his past, his trauma, his reputation—would he be a burden? Would Luffy even have the capacity to pay attention to him-is this fleeting? Does this matter? They’re both idiots

When Law confesses it’s-it’s in the stupidest way imaginable he’s kind of just- I’ll be so for real it’s in WANO. YES WANO THE LAST OF THEIR ALLIANCE, YES WANO THEY ARE GONNA PART WAYS- YES WANO AND THEN BLACKBEARD FUCKING GRIDDIES ON LAW.

…..so sorry

*clears throat*

I just know- that when Luffy fucking dies- I know this because I’ve been partially spoiled I mean for fucks sake I know about Joy boy-

I know in his heart Law is fucking destroyed for a heartbeat- when he finds Luffy- when he sees him rise up like the light he is- I swear to god he screams his name-

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BATTLE

WHILE KAIDO IS STILL UP

“MUGIWARA-YA!!”

“HAH?? TORAO?!”

“DON’T YOU DARE DIE AGAIN-YOU HEAR ME?!—I’M NOT GONNA LOSE MY IDIOT SOULMATE TO KAIDO! KICK HIS ASS!!”

:3

[cherrychilli]

18+

AFAB reader, Oral sex(m), mentions of P in V sex

A/N: This one's silly but so is most of the stuff I write I guess.

Consider this: "Pavloving" Steve into popping a boner whenever you wear your favorite perfume.

It's the one you had been eyeing in passing for the past few days. The pretty tinted and textured glass bottle caught your attention but the fragrance, a particular blend of subtle and powdery sweet, is what made you fall in love with it. You reluctantly set the bottle back down and leave it behind however, knowing you couldn't afford the purchase until your next pay day. Maybe.

You're not down about it for very long though because you're dating Steve Harrington. Adorably attentive and partial to spoiling his favorite girl, he surprises you with a bottle the following morning along with plans for dinner that night so that you have a chance to use it.

It's hard not to feel as good as you do, all dressed up, pulse points spritzed with your new gift. Steve compliments you all night, pulling you close to breathe you in, hands roaming your body discreetly, fingers lingering where no one else can see. You know just how to thank him for the thoughtful present and dinner when you get back to his place.

On your knees, hand cupping his balls, tongue pushed out to rest the head of his cock on. You kitten lick at the swollen, ruddy tip, drawing choked, ragged pleas of "baby- oh, fuck- please", from his kiss bitten lips. It's a slow, sinful descent as you kiss down the underside of his shaft, whatever's left of your lipstick leaving faint traces on the sensitive skin there. " Y' take such good care of me, Steve- 'wanna show you how thankful I am", you lick a wet stripe all the way back up before finally taking him into your mouth. It's cute how worked up he gets despite how slow and gentle you're being with him. How red he gets in the face. Sputtering praise, moaning and whining while you leisurely suck and stroke him till he spills into your mouth.

You hadn't meant to but it ends up becoming a habit. It's one of your favorite perfumes and you save it for special occasions and that included date night with Steve. He can smell it when he leans over to kiss you as you buckle yourself into the passenger seat. He can smell it on you at the restaurant, soft wispy hints of it when he sneaks a peek or two at your cleavage. And he can smell it the whole time you're pressed up against him in the backseat of his car, riding him fast and hard on some lonely road because you're too impatient to wait the 15 minute drive back to yours.

It begins to linger in his subconscious after every romp, memories of you, all bare skin and angelic moans intertwining with the sweet fragrance. The next time you're getting dolled up for date night he comes over to pick you up, waiting for you on the couch while you finish getting ready. You apply the fragrance as your final step before greeting him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. That's when you feel something stiff poking you.

Looking down to see the bulge that definitely hadn't been there a few moments ago and then back up at him, you see that he's just as surprised as you are. It didn't usually happen this quickly. And especially not when you hadn't even done anything yet.

"I- I think it might be your perfume...", he explains, clearly embarrassed. You don't understand at first until you see his cheeks turn that familiar shade of red and it suddenly clicks. One hearty giggle from you and a sheepish laugh from him later and you've collected yourself. "Guess we're gonna have to flip the order of events tonight", you run your hands down his shirt and slacks as you ease down on to your knees, fingers seeking his belt and a fleeting thought flashing through your mind.

Gonna need to go back for a second bottle.

[verysanebsdfan]

𝑲𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒂 𝒁𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒄𝒌 𝒙 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒂!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Request: And also one where reader is very similar to misa misa from death note !! She's a famous model w kira as her nen and she joined the Hunter to try and see what else she could do!!

Hii!! This is a story to a second part of this request, I hope you like it.

Also i havent watched Death note since like 3 years ago so it may not be all so accurate, the personality i mean !!

tw: mentions of murder and manipulation, headcanons so if dont like it dont read, okay it feels more like a story but kshssksksj

Its longer than i like and expected

Idk if i understood it correctly, but your nen will be an entity of sorts, Kira, who owns something like a death note but the person doesnt have to die, they can just do whats written in it and then go on with living.

────୨ৎ────

ꨄ︎ Getting tired of your modeling career was something to be expected, the toxic beauty standarts were very annoying, also having people behind your back constantly was just draining, so you ran away.

ꨄ︎ You being an exceptional child learned nen at a very young age, thanks to your nen teacher, so you figured you could expand your abilities and go to take the Hunter exam, I mean people say it's hard right?

ꨄ︎ Upon arrival you immediately notice some interesting people, so far, mostly number 44, who's aura is very interesting, however its pink!! How cute !!

ꨄ︎ Waiting for some time bored you very much, but more interesting people started appearing like number 301, 99 or 294. Only 301 and 44 appeared to know nen though !!

ꨄ︎ How boring !!

ꨄ︎ You bet you could fight and win against all of those people, using your nen ability of course, you might be wondering why did you choose an ability like this, well it is really simple. In the world of modeling and acting, you need people to like you and do what you want, whether it's to not go through some stuff you don't want to, or to higher your pay, maybe just living comfortably. But from whatever point of view you look at it, it's useful.

ꨄ︎ Waiting for few more hours, and being in a room with other 404 applicants was honestly suffocating. You could basically cut through the tension in the air. Everyone was so tense, guys chill it won't be that hard !!

ꨄ︎ I mean i am sure it is the stares that everyone is giving Tonpa, who is currently trying to poison some newbies, number 403, 404 and 405. How interesting...

ꨄ︎ Being led through a very long tunel was also very interesting, i mean, the people here are dropping like flies, losers.

ꨄ︎ But being approached by a green kid who told you that you look strong was something you didn't expect, you thought you hid your strenght well !!

ꨄ︎ But he was fun to hang out around, so you stayed, getting joined by another kid your age later on, number 99, one of the interesting people here.

ꨄ︎ And that is when your life finally started getting interesting.

(why is the beggining longer than headcanons i usually do ;-;)

ꨄ︎ Exploring the airship with the two boys made it really interesting, especially hearing their bacstories, why is everyone here fatherless or has a toxic family...including you, the stare you got from Killua when you told them your parents were assassinated was wild...He might know, you figured, but of course it couldn't have been him, he is not strong enough for that yet...

ꨄ︎ Then getting separated from them in the third and partially fourth phase too was very boring, it was so quiet without them...

ꨄ︎ After you passed the exam, and went to save Killua from his crazy family, you were all together again, and training to get stronger. Mostly on the punching bags in the Heavens Arena...uhhh Humans

ꨄ︎ Unfortunately many people have recognized you, since you were a model and acted in a lot of movies, how annoying, so Killua started being protective over you, subconsciously though. (too ooc?)

ꨄ︎ Months after that, while you guys were on the Whale Island, Killua decided to tag with you and Gon while he finds his dad and you find the person who murdered your parents. Sweet.

ꨄ︎ During the Yorknew arc having been recognized by even more people was so annoying, i mean you couldn't even partake in Kurapikas plan !! At least not like Gon and Killua, what a shame...you could just write some stuff and the boss of the Phantom Troupe could come to you !!

ꨄ︎ Either way, surviving all this while slowly catching feelings was very good. As you got into the game, Greed island and later reunited with your nen teacher, Bisky, everything seemed ideal, at least until you had to leave, it was so fun here !! No anoying 12 year olds fawning over Killua when you walked on the street, it is wrong to kill children after all, no perverted men eyeing you up and down- that was a lie, but still... it is wrong to kill people in general but the latter was fun

ꨄ︎ And now you had to fight some stupid BUGS ?! no.

ꨄ︎ Of course you will, you cannot just leave them, i mean the only thing stopping you are your feelings, but that doesn't change anything...

ꨄ︎ Of course after all this mess you were brought into, you weren't able to confess either. It hurts. It really does, but Gon...he is in bad condition so you gotta set the priorities straight.

ꨄ︎ In the end, Gon met his father, and you met Alluka, how cute, blurting out that you love her brother wasn't so cute, but hey, she supports you !!

ꨄ︎ Telling Killua that you love him right before leaving to kill his older brother who killed your parents wasnt cute either. But hey who cares right ?? We only live once, and you want to kill Illumi Zoldyck you might not live much longer, what do you have to lose.

ꨄ︎ Him trying to stop you wasn't very flashy either...

ꨄ︎ But you cannot leave him now can you ?? Illumi will wait, after all, who can kill him if not you ??

────୨ৎ────

I don't like it a a a a

[joenotexotic99]

Hello! I just saw your Sub!Five post and I must say it's a masterpiece! Is there any possibility you can write some more? Us Doms are running on crumbs for Sub!Five lol.

A/n: I am soooo sorry this took so long love. My life as been a roller coaster these last few weeks and I have had so much writer's block. However I really do hope I have delivered some quality content <3

Five Hargreaves x F!reader

Warnings: hard-ish Dom reader sub!five, language, smut, I was partially high while writing some of this (don't do drugs,) use of handcuffs and blindfold, hand job, unprotected sex (it won't harm her to wear some armor) oral sex f! Receiving. 

Summary: five didn't come home when he promised.

Word count: 1.5k

Five didn't come home on time.

Five promised you that he would be home by the time dinner was ready. Before he left earlier that day you explicitly remember him saying that's when he would get home.

And yet dinner has already been over with and done. You even cleaned up the table. Put away the leftovers, clean and washed the dishes. Putting them in the dishwasher. Cleaned and swept the kitchen. Took a shower and brushed your teeth. You put on your pajamas for the night. And now you sat on the couch re-watching an old show. Day turned night.

Still five was yet to return home. He lied. He lied to you. He could be anywhere right now, in any time period for that matter. But at this very moment he was supposed to be in your shared home. Now here you were, alone. You trust him enough to know how to handle himself and hold his own. Therefore he should know that actions have consequences.

As you stared at the TV mounted to your wall you heard the oh so familiar squeak of the front door opening followed by five setting down his briefcase and removing his shoes. 

Rounding the corner into the living room he immediately saw you under the soft light of the lamp with an expression on your face that was anything but joy. It took five a solid second to realize what he had done. Before he squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

"Shit I'm sorry"

You got up off the couch before slowly making your way to him. Talking as you walked.

"You're sorry?" You scoffed

"God yes I'm so sorry. Time slipped and I didn't reali-" 

"What time did you say you would get home?" You asked keeping your voice calm

"Before dinner" five said, keeping his head down

"That's right. Now you see dinner was at six thirty. And what time is it now?" You asked now infront of five

Five checked his wrist watch before continuing.

"Ten" five swallow the lump in his throat. Still staring down at his feet

"Look at me five." You said lifting up his head with your fingers "So you're admitting that you didn't do as promised?" You continued to ask

"Yes" five said quietly

"And what happens when you break the rules like this?" You already know the answer but hearing him say it is simply so so much better.

"I get punished" 

"Mhhmh, so you think that you deserved to get punished?" You asked. Making sure he consented.

"Yes" he said, voice still ever so quiet

"What was that?" you said, teasing him.

"yes I do think I deserved to be punished"

"Good, now I'm going I'm going to finish this episode and you are going to walk up to the bedroom and take off every clothing item off your body. And if you're good I might let you choose what punishment you think you deserve. Sounds good to you baby boy?" You explained, walking back to the couch and getting back cozy under the blanket you had.

Five nodded before making his way to the stairs and disappearing into the bedroom.

If you're honest you didn't pay much attention to the rest of the episode. Nonetheless you waited and waited. You even watched one more for good measure. And to your surprise you didn't hear one whine or complain from upstairs.

After a good solid forty-five minutes passed you dug for the remote to pause the show and turn off the TV. Removing the blanket and leisurely walking your way to the bedroom. You opened the door to see five in the middle of the bed leaning against the headboard.

As expected he didn't seem so pleased

"I don't think you just finished one episode"

You walk towards the closet to get out the old case file box that was now filled with things much more fun than files. You picked out a nice pair of handcuffs before pulling out a few different colors of blind folds. Before making your way to five.

"Doesn't feel nice waiting for longer than you have to, does it?"

Five lower his head down before mumbling a quiet "no"

You laid the silk blindfolds down next to five before looking up.

"I didn't hear a single complaint when I was downstairs. And because of that you can pick one of these blindfolds" 

Five surveyed over his choices before picking up his pick and handing it to you.

"Red, perfect" you said as you kissed his head. Putting away the rest of the blindfolds.

"Now do you think that you deserved to be cuffed?" You asked, turing back to five

Five nodded and hummed before you dug your guy's favorite pair. The cuffs were thick and smooth black leather that was held by a silver chain and extended to be able to clip to the headboard.

You took his wrist and slid his hands through the cuffs before tightening it snug.

"How does that feel my sweet boy?"

"good"

You hummed in response before lifting his hands up to clip it to the small hook you have on your bed frame.

You went to straddle his lap before taking his head in your hands and laying a sweet kiss to his lips. Leaning back you took the silk cloth and tied the blindfolds across five.

"Color?" You asked

"Green" five responded

"Wonderful"

You slid off of five's lap to remove the pajamas you had put on earlier whilst you waited for five to return home. Before situating back to where you were moments earlier.

You slowly creeped your hand down five's torso. Feeling the muscles of his abdomen move under your fingertips. You continued the descent down his body until you were met with the tip of his cock.

Slowly you took a light hold of it and ran your thumb over the slit spreding the pre cum. You watched five's Adam apple bob as he swallowed. You took your time moving your hand up and down his dick. Never moving your hand fast enough to make him finish. Instead five begged you to move your hand faster. Pleases rolled off his tongue. Each time you denied. Continuing your slow, agonizing pace.

Eventually your movements came to a halt. Depriving five of his already little amount of friction he was getting.

"Whycha stop?" Five said breathlessly

You didn't reply, instead you simply raised yourself up before sinking down onto his cock.

Five cried out from shock and pleasure. His hands fought against the handcuffs, wanting to touch you. Let you know that he was yours and yours only.

You weren't slow this time. You fucked him with an eager pace. Moaning out. You leaned down into fives neck. Kissing and biting. Making hickies that you knew five was going to beg later to have you cover up. 

You made your way with your mouth to his ear.

"You will not come until I say you can" you whispered.

All poor five could do was whine a pathetic 'ok' 

You continued your pace. Up and down. Taking your breasts into your hands. It made even better knowing how much five loved them You didn’t stop till way after you finished.

You didn't stop until you could see how much five was struggling to hold back and not finish without you telling him that he could.

"You think you've learned your lesson pretty boy?" You said while slowing down your pace

"Yes yes I have. I've learned my lesson." Five said on the brink of tears

"Will it happen again?"

"No it won't, I promise. Never" five stated

You picked up your previous pace. Fast and hard. It drove five wild. It was overwhelming delicious pleasure. Nothing short of filthy satisfaction.

"You can come five" you announced

And it was over. Five spilled into you. His mouth opened with no sound coming out. You let him ride his high. Stopping when you could tell it was becoming too much. 

You reached over to the bedside table to grab the key and get five out of the cuffs. Then you took off the blind fold.

It took five a second to adjust to the light before his eyes met yours. You took his wrist into your hand making sure he was alright.

"Thank you" he said out of breath.

You smiled before leaning down and giving him a peck on the lips. Then proceed to get off and lay next to where he was.

"Well you gonna clean me up?" You asked

Five chuckled before moving between your legs and diving down lapping up your arousal. The taste of both him and you on his tongue. He may have come home too late but at least his meal is delectable.

[selarina]

Suna Rintaro x reader

Content Warnings: actress!au, hurt/comfort, self-image concerns

You look colorless in your monotone pair of undergarments. You're peering beyond your obscenely long window, angling your head up, as you maintain eye contact with the hail bouncing off rhythmically against the pavement outside. 

It would be a peaceful image to walk onto if it weren't for the circumstance.

Suna remains steady in his walk toward you, seamlessly weaving around the slew of clothes on the floor. Each piece of clothing lying in various forms of unraveling, as though you only just tried them on and discarded them.

He’s been walking to you with socks on but even so, you almost immediately twist your head towards him as though you heard him all along. You take a glance at him, acknowledging him. It was a routine that you two played out whenever one was wandering through toward the other. 

He stops in his tracks, he has accidentally stepped on a t-shirt lying on the floor.

"I'm sorry," your voice is firm, however, almost inaudible, a soft whisper and he looks up. You sound hoarse, as though you have cried and cried until you found your way to wherever you are right now.

He can see your eyes more clearly now, as they hang on to your face heavily. He doesn’t say anything. He knows you only cry when you have a place to put your emotions. Without one, your emotions, much like blood, flow out in a reddish hue, clogging up your feet and leaving you unmoving.

You only cry now when you're on set, where you can be as raw as you want and get away with it. On rare occasions, you trust him enough to staunch your bleeding heart. On even rarer occasions, you cry into the crevice of your sofa, all by yourself.

“I’m sorry”, this time it comes out softer than before, and your voice croaks out at the end. Whooshing through in an instant, he picks up a nightgown from the floor. He’s at your side now, offering you the garment. 

He'll take it one step at a time.

“Don’t like how it feels on my skin. I don’t like how any of them feel," you have been at this for a while, trying to find comfort in anything you could grasp, however menial it may be. But you couldn't even put on some comfortable clothes.

He extends his arm to take off his long, black coat. After taking a quick glance through your bleary eyes, you notice he's left standing there in an almost plain white shirt. You decide it fits him well. He offers the coat to you.

You take it. You stretch your arms out to pull it over, and as you go back to contracting into yourself, you decide you’re not ready to talk yet. 

—

You're left to stew in your own silence as you hear the soft clinks of vessels coming from the kitchen. You know you're in a sand clock right now, almost at the precipice of the end. You’re almost towering over all the sand and you decide you're ready.

And just in time, Suna walks in, holding two cups, both steaming against the chill air of your house. 

It sits warm against your hand, you realize in that moment you didn't pay attention to what was in it. You look away from his face, and into the cup. It's tea—chamomile honey, the one that sits in the front row of your collection of teas. You’ve never had to worry about running out because Suna’s always updating it. He likes chamomile, you know you’re partial to lavender rose, but you like having chamomile with him.

You look up, “I thought you were on tour,” you say, your voice already a bit less hoarse, but still comes through gruff. 

“I am,” he says. “I can take the weekend off. It’s just a weekend.”

Just a weekend, is never just a weekend in your world, but you resign to it. Just for the weekend, you think.

“Your manager’s going to be a dick about it,” you say, a tint of worry still remaining but mostly too tired to worry.

“I’ll manage,” he says. 

You half smile. “Want to watch a movie?” You ask, you’re ready to talk, you’re just so tired.

“If that’s what you want,” he says, setting his cup down and reaching for the remote, turning it on before he gives it to you.

You’re going through the catalog of movies and shows, while Suna’s ordering food on his phone, “Will two bowls be enough?”

“Two for me?”

“Alright,” he says, his eyes scaling across his phone. “I’ll add in another.”

“Thank you,” you say, sipping on tea, turning your attention back onto the screen, scaling down and down and down, but there’s nothing appealing, everything is a bit too similar to the other you think.

And then you stop. 

“Decide on something?” he asks, setting his phone down as he looks up to find a movie. Your movie, your face at the forefront of your latest thriller/rom-com, overshadowing your co-star.

“I don’t look like a real person sometimes,” you say, with a frown. 

Suna can’t help but agree, it’s heavily edited, so are most if not all of his photoshoots, but he has less experience of being at the forefront, a guitarist does what he does and leaves, and when he’s onstage, he’s never the only one on stage and it’s enough for him. 

“Well, no one wants to fuck the real me. I guess?” you deliberate, there are plenty of people who would want you for you if you weren’t an actress you think. Something about not being a real enough person as the all-encompassing actress. Is she real or are you real? You groan.

“Well, I do?” he says, almost offended as he suggests by his tone.

“Well, you’re likely the only one.” He thinks that maybe he truly is the only one.

“Good,” he says, sipping on his tea. 

[doberbutts]

Do you or your friends see a difference in household or play behaviors in a dog after mondior or IGP kind of training? My breeder is concerned that once you flip the biting switch you can't really take it back, but obviously there's a whole lot of wonderful protection sport dogs out there who aren't biting random people. I figured I'd ask someone who has had dogs both bitework trained and not bitework trained for comparison. Personally I think it is a beautiful sport and the dogs seem to love it the way I love, say, stage combat or LARP.

Hope you and the beasties are having a good day

Well. No, in the way you're probably thinking. But also yes.

Truthfully I have only taken 2 dogs through any amount of protection sport and both I would still be considered very green in. Fenris is no where near trial ready, after all, partially because I'm deliberately taking it slow and partially because I am very poor and unwilling to throw a large amount of money at seminars or training that I feel may be subpar for what we need- I would rather pay these amounts for training that I can verify is the quality he deserves than chance it on someone fucking up what we've built thus far.

It is my belief that your breeder's concern is valid, and it is something that I warn people about myself especially when dealing with off breeds or with dogs of temperaments not well suited to the work. You are, regardless of what anyone tells you, teaching your dog that biting humans is a perfectly acceptable and even expected behavior depending on the circumstance and behavior pattern. Do understand that this means your dog will see similar contexts and at some point have to make a judgement call. Not every dog makes the right judgement call for the situation.

I'm thinking of a friend whose husband was dying of cancer, and he fell in their house, and as she rushed to help him the dog tried to attack her to protect his owner. This is an extreme case of "worst case scenario"- but ask yourself if that is a scenario you can handle with the levelheadedness she did in order to prevent anyone from being bit. This particular case was a matter of both genetics and training, however the dog in question was not an off breed and in fact was bred with protection in mind.

I'm thinking of a different friend who had border collies show up at club. One day the owner of the border collies was walking through an aisle at a pet store with their dogs, and a man in a puffy winter coat approached to ask them a question. One of the border collies latched onto the man's bicep exactly like how it was trained to, and the other performed a near perfect bark and hold. This person voiced regret of ever having opened that door, and now they have two dogs with recorded bite histories. It is my personal opinion that this is a case of two dogs with temperaments poorly suited to the work more than anything else, however that does not change the undesired outcome.

That being said, I can pet most of the dogs at club without any real concern, though I still keep my hands to myself unless the owners actively tell me to pet and play with their dogs. The few I can't also aren't off breeds, for what it's worth, but in fact are malinois which the sport was more or less designed around. I also don't think the training caused the inability for these specific dogs to socialize with trainers- I think that is a genetic temperament question, and all the training did was give them an outlet for their inherent aggression.

Fenris is a hideously social and friendly doberman. He is best friends with every human at the club and frequently licks the decoys right in the face as he wiggles and jumps on them before they agitate him. He just spent two hours hanging out at the car repair shop yesterday while I was getting my new tires put on. Anyone who stopped to pet him got wiggles and licks and puppy behavior. Anyone who didn't was ignored. While he is a mite too friendly to me, I have not seen any real change to this friendliness or his willingness to accept friendly and neutral strangers despite the decoys telling me that he is really becoming quite a monster in training.

He's also very suspicious, and fairly possessive. I have seen that increase, however at his age it's sort of difficult to determine if that was always going to increase or if the training had anything to do with that. Personally I think it is a mix of both- he was a suspicious and possessive little asshole from the start and now he is learning that there is a time and place for that to really come out of him, so he is more inclined to showing this behavior as he ages through his teenage phase and matures in his training.

For example: we started defense of handler last month, an exercise where the dog heels closely beside the owner and turns its body to watch the decoy waiting for an aggressive move towards the owner. Fenris now watches closely when we are approached by strangers at night while on walks, not acting but simply waiting to see what they might do. This behavior may have come out of him anyway, because even when he was a young puppy he would occasionally give the stink eye to anyone who rushed us (usually panhandlers asking for money in parking lots, but also the occasional person looking for trouble and an easy mark). He barked at a homeless guy who lunged at us on the sidewalk* when we walked past 6 months ago- well before defense of handler. He may have always been inclined to be wary of fast, jerky movements towards us.

That is what a doberman is for. They were never meant to accept suspicious or potentially aggressive strangers, and these sorts of situations are exactly what many dogs would consider suspicious and aggressive behavior. Homeless Guy I think was just high or having some mental episode and not actively dangerous to passersby, but lunging at someone from the shadows is a really stupid way to get bit (if they have a dog) or punched/shot/stabbed (if they don't but think they need to defend themselves). The panhandlers that literally run up to us from across the parking lot- same thing, if someone spots you at a distance and starts running towards you with intent, many times this is going to get read as aggressive behavior. Again, not actually harmful, they're just begging for money. However, how is my dog supposed to know that when the behavior says "I am going to hurt you" to a dog?

For example: we started object guard, where he stands over an object and stops the decoy from snatching it out from under him by biting. Coincidentally, he's also started low rumbling at the other dogs when they're near stuff he likes, and he lays directly on top of these objects and hides them under his legs/body. While I do think the training definitely intensified this behavior, he's always been a bit punky with his stuff and not been keen on sharing. I manage it so we don't have a dog fight, and I have a bunch of dogs that are allergic to conflict anyway so it's a pretty easy situation to work with. All four of my dobermans including the one that had never been in any bitework scenario ever have been somewhat guardy when it comes to high value resources (in fact the only one that never did any bitework also is the only one that started a dog fight over a guarded object (ME, I was the guarded object)), so it is also very possible that this would have developed in him regardless of training.

Funny enough, however, I will also say that Fenris specifically has become exponentially more velcro and cuddly immediately after every protection session. It does something magnificent to the bond between us, and his affection is through the roof when we get back to our bedroom after a long day on the club field.

Creed, my other dog who I took through this type of training, I felt was actually more confident afterwards. He had a lot of reactivity as a teenager and getting him to a club more often seemed to have a significant amount of positive impact on this behavior. I have seen other dogs experience the same. Probably something similar to how my nephew had a lot of PTSD and anxiety immediately after a horrific domestic abuse situation he and his mom had to flee from, and the thing that helped him resolve that was getting him started in martial arts classes. If nothing else, you learn to trust that you can handle it if a situation that makes you feel powerless comes for you a second time, I suppose. I'd be interested to know if that's connected to some behaviors I see from dudes who are obsessed with weapons and fighting, but that's another post in and of itself.

However I was fairly reluctant to move forward with this training with Phoebe, my soft scared girlie, because she had a panic response of "pick a direction and run very fast don't look back" and I was nervous that taking her to protection training would bleed into her panic attacks and instead of running she would hit the end of the leash, realize the flight was not an option, and start biting. And I was not particularly interested in chancing that, because regardless of how scared she was she would choose flight and freeze over fight every time and this made he very safe to be around. My first doberman was a very anxious rescue who was taught that biting is an option when running isn't working, and I ended up having to behaviorally euthanize him because his previous home fucked him up so bad. I want to be clear that this was a result of bad training and worse temperament, but knowing Phoebe's temperament I was unsure if I wanted to chance it with her.

I never did take her to club before her weird GI/liver thing that ultimately killed her, but she ended up loving tug and her confidence did soar once she learned the game. And it did bleed into other areas as well- she was much happier and more confident when out in public even though we only played tug in my living room. If her health hadn't crashed like that, I would have been taking her to mondio with Fenris the first week I had him to see if she liked it and if there was anything in here to play with.

So. A long winded answer to say that yes I have seen the training change behaviors off the field, but probably not in the way you're expecting to hear.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Tailoring

Author's note: More of Petras in Divergence Husbandry AU

Summary: Petras makes a gift for his beloved whore, and they enjoy it together.

Warning: CW: Smut, lemon, NSFT, Amor Kink, Language Kink, Master/Servant Kink, Uh... Let me know if I need to add anything.

Past =-= Next

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Petras heads back to where his beloved darling human is, he’s learning the common language of the baselines that live in and around Gannet Point. Which is the language that his beloved speaks with her friends, family and co-workers.

It had been mildly distressing and frustrating to find out that his beloved is dear friends with Arnault’s and Roland’s humans. Much to his chagrin, he has to interact with the pair of excommunicated Black Templars more often than he’d like due to the fact that their humans like each other.

And were trying to be helpful and have the three of them interact. He had heard from his beloved Witch-whore that there are … several younger Black Templars, and from the description that she has of them. 

They are Primaris Marines. He had requested that he not meet them, in part because of what Arnault and Roland have said and requested of him in regards to the Primaris Space Marines. Another part of him isn’t sure how well he’d hold to the agreement if he had to interact with those abominations.

If he had to do so on a semi-regular or a regular basis… his urge, his understandable desire to purge the Abominations from life. Alas, trying to find others who are like minded as him is very difficult, and something he needs to thread the needle carefully, for if he talks about it to the wrong Space Marine, they might try to kill him or worse.

Petras is a fair hand at sewing and mending cloth and clothes. He hadn’t realized his skill with such things could, well more accurately, would ever be used in the way that he’s using them at the moment. 

However, the idea of his beloved bonded whore in the garb of a black templar serf’s uniform has been paying for black and white, with red and gold trim (as he’s an Honorable Chaplain, his serf’s uniform would reflect his rank) cloth and ribbon. 

After ensuring the texture of the cloth he’d picked didn’t bother himself or his bonded he went to work on making the garment- finding something similar enough to the uniform of a Black Templar Serf, a Concubina, serf at that, their uniform wasn’t for Serf’s who did much cleaning. But could be worn in public, but was obvious to a Black Templar just what kind of work they did.

Petras very carefully does the measuring twice- before cutting once, making sure that there was slack and give, ensuring that he has her exact measurements, then he starts the next part of the process as he starts sewing. 

For the stitching that needed to be hand sewn he had done so as carefully and patiently as he could, imagining just what his beloved whore would look like in the outfit. He’s glad that his human has a sewing machine- and he’s read the instructions on how to use it, carefully using the surprisingly noisy, yet quiet machine to make the outfit.

The outfit comes together surprisingly quickly. He neatly folds the outfit and wraps it up. Petras is excited to see how she’d react to his gift. It’s one that he hopes that she’ll like, and he’ll enjoy unwrapping her, or keeping her partially in it as he stuffs her full of his cock, over and over again.

His beloved whore opens the gift and murmurs- noticing that the colors and markings of the outfit remind her of his armor. She grins up at him and they pepper each other with passionate kisses and touches. She draws away- the teasing minx as she flounces off and returns relatively quickly in the outfit and grins up at him.

“How may I serve you, My Lord?” she chirps up at him in Gothic, in the exact way he’d taught her to and he lets out a lusty purr as he stalks towards her.

“Attend to me, my Whore,” He purrs out to her in Gothic and she nods up at him, her eyes fluttering faux-coyly at him.

“Yes, My Lord,” You say breathily, as you strut over towards him, watching the way his blue eyes smolder and watch your every movement.

When Petras had told you that he was going to make you an outfit for sexy times- who had thought the outfit would be far more scandalous and skimpy, but it was surprisingly comfortable, and you could, potentially wear it out in public, and only you and he would know what the outfit actually meant.

“Clean the armor on my left hand,” Petras purrs out in English as he sits down comfortably on the floor and looks at you with half lidded eyes.

“Yes, Sir,” You chirp up at him and get out a cleaning solution that is body safe, as well as some of your favorite unscented lube. 

Angela had taught you that Space Marines had far more acute senses of smells- and the scents of things could bother them a lot faster than it could for normal humans. You grab a clean tea towel and start to clean the armored hand, making sure to take care to clean and murmur how impressed you were with his armor- how it was scarred, yet well maintained. It showed his prowess in battle- how strong he is to have survived all of those Glorious Battles, how clever he is.

Once the all of the fingers, the palm and top of the hand the wrists, and up to his elbow joint were fully cleaned he rumbles out another order, “Ride my armor- show your devotion to me.”

“Yes my lord.” You say breathily as you move and straddle his arm and he helps lift and move you. 

You shiver a little- his armor is slightly cold and hard, made out of some space metal- or something. Also the casual, easy way he picked you up and carried you around got your engine going as you carefully lube up his fingers and start to grind against his armor. He helps you by teasing your clit, very, very gently, but with enough pressure on your clit that it has you moan and keen throwing your head back.

“Oh- fuck!” You moan, “Petras- fuck. That feels good.”

He purrs at you again, as you continue to grind against his armor and he teases you with his fingers in your clit, slowly opening your hot, wet cunt with one finger. You whine at the burn and stretch of one of his armored fingers.

Fuck- his fingers are usually so big when he’s out of armor- that it’s almost too much to just have one of his fingers playing inside your pussy. He stills and watches you, “Are you alright?”

“Fuck yes love,” You say pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Color?” Petras insists, with an endearing frown on his face.

“Green,” You reply, “Just continue, more slowly inside me, alright?”

“I will try my best to,” Petras says. “... Ready to restart?”

“Yes please!” You whine up at him and start to grind against his armor and he starts to purr and murmur in the Space Marine language- a mixture of praise and loving insults. You don’t really understand most of what he says, but he has such a deep, rolling voice- it thunders and is smooth and deep. 

He gets you to orgasm almost embarrassingly quickly and he chuckles, pleased as he gently pulls out of your pussy and lightly sets you down, “My lovely Serf- you need to clean my armor of your juices- with your mouth.”

“Yes my lord,” You say as you suck and lick your juices off of him- there is something about the way you almost worship his armor that has Petras praising you some more. His other hand had taken off his armor and was slowly and carefully teasing fingers playing with your clit and pussy again.

“Good girl,” Petras croons, “continue to service me like this. My pretty whore- doing exactly as you are told.”

Once the armor is finished being cleaned again he scoops you up and buries his face in your thighs and you squeal a little as you tug in his short silver-white hair as he eats you out. Fuck- he’s got such a talented tongue as he eats you out. His tongue teasing and tasting your clit and diving in and out of your pussy.

He lightly has one of his hands squeezing your neck- not enough to restrict your breathing, but enough that you are constantly aware of his hand wrapped around your neck as he teases your breasts with his other hand. Squishing and teasing your breast and lightly twisting and pinching your nipples as he wrings out yet another orgasm from you.

Petras looks so good, dripping your juices down his face as he presses a scorching hot kiss against your mouth. You moan at the flavor of his salvia and your cum and he removes his cod piece, you are still wearing the gift- just not wearing underwear.

“Shall I put my cock in your warm, yet pussy?” Petras purrs out the question.

“Yes! My Lord please- give me your cock~” You plead eager to feel his cock stretch you and fill you deliciously.

“Good Girl,” Petras purrs as he slowly and teasingly guides his cock inside of you and slowly thrust in and out of you. 

There is a slight sting of pain and cold- as he’s almost entirely in his armor while he fucks you- but it’s also hot to see him in his armor and pussy drunk as he fucks you at the same time. Fuck- this feels soo good.

After Petras had cum inside of her twice, he purrs and tells her how good she was for him as he carefully takes her to the bathroom. You are so tired and are glad that you have the next three days off as Petras carefully washes your body in warm water and cleans you up. 

Helping your jelly limbs return to functioning. He waits outside of the bathroom as you pee and you stumble out of the bathroom and smell food. Petras perks up and presses a gentle kiss to your nose, lips, both cheeks, forehead and chin and gently sweeps you up off your feet and gently set you down on the couch, wrapped up in your favorite blanket as the pair of watch your favorite show and he hand feeds you salty and sweet snacks.

You fully recovered from that session and yawn, tired and he nuzzles you and gently carries you to your room. He helps you brush your teeth and presses more gentle kisses and praises into your ears and cheeks as he tucks you in and cuddles you.

You wake up pleasantly sore the next morning- and Petras having made you some breakfast in bed as he helps you with stretches and some over the counter pain medications to help with some of the less pleasant soreness.

“That was a great session,” You say to Petras with a smile. 

“I’m glad.” Petras says, “Thank you for talking about and deciding to do this latest session.”

You giggle at him, “You seemed to have gotten really into it.”

“Ja- you were amazing,” Petras purrs, “All lovely and pliant und wunderbar.”

“Where did you get that outfit?” You ask him curiously.

Bashfully Petras looks away before looking at you and saying, “I made it myself- I bought the cloth and it’s while I did those measurements of your body.”

“Oh!” You say surprised, “You have a talent for tailoring, Petras.”

“Danke,” Petras says, you can tell he feels a little shy about it.

“... Perhaps if we have other ideas for outfits, you could make them, if you wanted to?” You ask him gently.

“... I could do that, ja.” Petras says, “Do you have a request, My Darling?”

“Not at the moment,” You reply, “But I’ll think about it.”

He nods and cuddles you as he continues to hand feed you breakfast. He could be so affectionate after sex and for a few days afterwards. It was really sweet how he took care of you after one of your more intense sessions. 

[2af-afterdark]

Leviathan’s Curse

As I played chapter 5, especially toward the end when you get the flashback to his childhood, I couldn't help put pay attention to the game showing us the curse laid upon Leviathan that explains his actions far too perfectly. Now, I don't mean a literal curse (although his beauty seems to be its own curse given how the angels treated him because of it). I am talking about the metaphorical curse placed upon him from the moment he was taken by Heaven. More specifically, the moment he escaped to Hell.

Spoilers for chapter 5 below

87 was his number. Not a name, but a number. He knew nothing of Hell or other devils aside from the other children trapped around him. His only experience in life -- at least the experience he could remember-- was the cruelty of angels toward him and his friends/peers. These were his only friends and the people who supported one another through an experience worse than death as the angels experimented on them.

Then, one day, when a fire starts in the lab keeping these young angels captive, 87 gets the opportunity to escape... or rather, he is forced to escape because the other children trapped with him can tell he is special and they are doing all they can to get him out of there and make sure Leviathan survives.

They will not allow him to stay with them and risk dying. He is the one person who must live, even at the cost of everything else.

As he is leaving, they all request that he go out and live for all of them; to have the kind of life they know they never can.

That's his curse.

It was the innocent wish of children who knew they were about to die and was partially said to try and motivate 87 to leave like they wanted and give him the will to live, but it is burned into Leviathan’s mind even now.

They were all one another had -- children relying on one another to survive -- and they died for Leviathan. They sacrificed themselves, refusing to let him stay behind to help them the way he wanted or escape with him because they had to ensure he got out at the cost of everyone else. In order to uphold their memory, he has to fulfill their wish to live on for them.

His life is also their life. His experiences are their experiences. He has to live the best life vicariously for them because that was the wish they made and is his last memory of the most important people in his life. Everything he is must be the best, because the people that died for him deserve the best. He is the best because he is their living memory.

We could also say it's the reason he is so stringent in his values of eliminating any threat to Hell, no matter how small or improbable. His friends died for him in order to get him back to Hell, so he will ensure that it is safe no matter what. He will not let their sacrifice be in vain.

In his Bloodshed card, we also see that Leviathan keeps empty [symbolic] graves for his dead friends. However, when these graves are destroyed, he says that the graves are empty and it doesn't matter if they are destroyed because he can always rebuild them later. But the graves to him are a form of atonement. The graves don't matter because Leviathan is their true grave and living memory. He is the one that lives for them. He made a kingdom for them; one that would have accepted them if they had been born there. He visits their graves every year. They are mythologized through him and their memory lives on as long as he does.

[Unfortunately, I have hit the Tumblr image limit as I am typing this section up, so I can't fit the screenshots, so you will have to decide if you trust me or not on this point]

On a more personal interpretation, I also think that this is why Leviathan wants neither "twisted hatred" nor "unconditional worship". He has known both. Hatred hurt him and made his life worse than death, worship got his friends killed (remember that they willingly died because they could sense he was special. In a way, he was already their king and they worshiped him).

He wants a partner who expresses something more pure than unreasonable, unexplainable emotions. He wants someone to express genuine feelings towards him rather than irrational ones that seem to control their view of him.

I think it's also the reason that he is annoyed at Morax at the end of his bloodshed card; Morax is willing to die for Leviathan in order to heal him. Leviathan has already seen enough of people dying for him.

I also think it makes it very interesting that his citizens wear nooses. They say they wear them because, on a literal note, they will hang themselves if Leviathan should ever die and, as symbol, that same noose is meant to show that there is someone (+Leviathan) they are willing to fight to the death for. The mythology surrounding his escape is so prevalent that it seeps into the entire culture of his land and its people.

He doesn't want people to die for him, but every single citizen of his kingdom is willing to die in his name. It puts him in a position where his life is the center of everyone who he meets. His Bloodshed Victory (2) line is "As long as the devils of Hades are behind me, I never lose" because he cannot afford to allow more people to die in his name. They can die, of course, just never for him.

[halfagone]

I just reread Off With the Demon's Head and now I've gotta ask you a few things.

How does Talia feel now, knowing she gave birth to the person she's been competing with for her father's attention and affection with and losing? If I'm not misinterpreting how she thinks of her father based on that scene describing Ra's visiting Danny and Athanasia but not Damian.

With pending plans in mind for this, is Ra's going to get as creepy here as you have planned in Luthor's Ascent? Or is he too blinded by affection for Boy/Wild Child that he can't see the potential power that would be at his fingertips if he could get his claws back into Danny?

When Danny entered his core, you wrote that someone else noticed what had happened. With additional confirmation that the Cores can still communicate and Pariah has been Cored as well, is Pariah just sending off a whole bunch of alarm vibes from somewhere in Clockwork's junk drawer?

Hope you had a fun reread!

I obviously won't share this all with detail but since it might take some more time before I get to write and post that next update, I might as well share some of the fun. lol

[Possible Spoilers If You'd Like to Avoid <333]

Prior to this, Ra's has not once breathed a word about Danny to anyone. He is Ra's' most ardent secret and, quite possibly, glaring weakness. However, with this new tidbit of information Talia can probably start connecting the dots and realize just how significantly Danny's relationship and subsequent disappearance had on her entire life. She had been in a competition all this time and she didn't even know her true opponent.

One of the things I love about this fic is just how damn complicated everything is and Talia is no different. She wouldn't resent Danny or hate the fact she had birthed her competition. But she would resent that her father could only hold affection for one person at a time and would never share it. After all, before this she just thought Ra's was a hardass that had impossible standards. Which is still partially true but no matter how close she met or surpassed those standards she would never be Danny. It was never that she wasn't good enough, it's just that her father wanted someone else and that fucking sucks.

Are the Daddy Issues inherited in Off With [the Demon's] Head? Yes. Yes there are. Unintentionally!

So Ra's will be creepy but in a different sort of way. Ra's in LL's Ascent is more like objectification kinda creepy whereas Ra's in OWtD'sH is more like you are mine and we are one and you can never walk away from me- So like. Obsessive. Possessive. Maybe some mild abandonment issues. Definitely some lingering grief there. But turn it from 100 to 1000.

This Inspired By fic that I wrote as a gift shows a glimpse into what that can look like as well. I am also quite partial to this Danny & Ra's fic I wrote which shows how damn charismatic Ra's can be, allowing him to spin the narrative to his advantage.

you are mine and we are one and you can never walk away from me-

Pay careful attention to this line. Whereas in LL's Ascent Ra's views Danny as more of a tool to further his goals, in OWtD'sH Ra's sees Danny as an extension of himself and therefore should remained fixated at his side where he belongs. Any power Danny wields would naturally be used to his advantage, Danny's power -> his power.

(Can I just say I love and appreciate how many details you noticed? Because I do love and appreciate it <333)

I can't give too much away about Pariah just yet, despite how much it makes me giggle with unfiltered, evil author glee, but all the alarms are going off and people are gonna be running around like headless chickens.

I hope this has fed the brain worms until the next update. >:3 Thanks for the Ask!

[kirain]

I would pay ANY amount of money for you to come out of retirement and write us some professor sharp angst/wholesomeness. Maybe something where mc helps him when he gets pain in his leg or something? Pretty please!

I didn't realise I was in retirement. 😅 Though it is true that I work a lot and stopped taking commissions/requests. That said, I do love Sharp and haven't written a fic in a while, so I hope this meets your expectations. Thanks, anon!

The student-teacher relationship in this fic is strictly platonic.

"Are you alright, Professor?" you asked, startled by his muffled groan.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice rasping.

He sat down quickly, wincing as he hit the chair. It was his leg, no doubt. You always saw him walking around without a cane, but you knew he had one. Thanks to your late night escapades searching for demiguise statues, you saw it leaning against a table in his room. The wood looked worn, as did the rubber on the tip, leading you to believe he used it profusely, just never around students or his peers.

"Sir?" you asked, cautiously moving closer.

"What do you want?" he barked, his teeth clenched.

You flinched, the question reminding you why you stayed after class. "Oh, I wanted to ask you about the erumpent potion. You said we'd be brewing it next week, but I'm having some trouble finding—"

"Another time," he said, sharply. "Tomorrow, perhaps. I don't have time for—"

He paused, gripping his thigh as he hunched forward. All colour seemed to drain from his face as he swallowed a visibly painful grunt. It was definitely his leg, and you felt sorry for him, but you didn't know how to broach the subject without upsetting him further. You simply watched as his brow furrowed, betraying the stoic demeanor he hoped to convey.

"I understand, Professor. Tomorrow, then."

It seemed like the best decision, leaving him to his own devices. After all, he'd been dealing with his condition for years and you weren't a doctor. There wasn't much, if anything, that you could do besides respect his privacy. You turned to leave, but as you did so, you heard him take a few short, laboured breaths.

"...Wait."

"Professor?"

His body was trembling, the nails on his free hand digging into his desk. "Bring me your wiggenweld potion. Please."

His demand was strict, but his eyes were desperate. You nodded, rushing to your station to retrieve the vial. When you handed it to him, his fingers shook as they pried the cork from the neck. Hastily, he downed the liquid with three loud gulps, then exhaled with a weary sough.

He didn't speak after that, he simply sat with his head down, fist clenched as he waited for the remedy to take effect. His mouth, though he tried to keep it closed, hung partially open as he fought for air, his chest heaving. You weren't sure how to react. Something told you he felt humiliated by your presence, but you couldn't help but worry.

"Professor?" you asked, gently. "Are you—?"

"I'm fine!"

His outburst was crass, hurtful. You didn't like it. His eyes were mixed with rage and agony and it scared you. He was always stern, but he still carried an air of kindness, despite his brooding looks; however, in that moment there wasn't a trace of the man who'd been so graciously helping you with your studies. You backed away, clasping your hands in discomfort.

"I'm sorry I bothered you, sir."

As you fled for the door, you heard him sigh, defeatedly. "Wait. I'm ... that was beneath me." You looked back, seeing him point to the chair beside his desk. "Please, sit."

You did, though with tense shoulders. You never took well to being yelled at, but Sharp did seem genuinely remorseful. As you joined him, his crude expression settled and he adjusted his tone. Once again his voice was deep but forbearing, unassuming. The way it usually sounded.

"I didn't mean to snap at you. You did as I asked and I am grateful." Relaxing, he brushed his hair out of his face. "As you know, I have no patience for those who refuse to acknowledge their own mistakes. I would be a hypocrite if I didn't include myself in that statement."

"Are you in pain?" you asked, glossing over his comment, but he didn't return your gaze.

"It will pass. I didn't expect such a powerful wave. Clearly the potion I took this morning was diluted."

"I didn't know it got that bad."

"It usually doesn't. Not during class, anyhow."

You thought back to his room. The empty bottles surrounding his chair—it all made sense. He didn't bring his cane to class because he was numbing his leg with potions. It couldn't be healthy, but you didn't dare question it. The man was so desperate for a cure, but even more desperate to keep face with his students.

"Sir, isn't the potions classroom the coldest in the castle? Doesn't that exacerbate your leg?"

"Clever," he huffed. "You know your biology." He seemed annoyed, yet paradoxically proud. "Yes, it can exacerbate it, but only in the winter."

You looked to the windows, tilting your head as flakes of snow hit the glass. Sarcasm. He was being intentionally facetious, which told you he was feeling better, or at least starting to.

"Are you alright now?" you asked, unsure of what else to say.

"I'll be fine." You could see the sweat shining on his forehead, his wrinkles folding in and out. He was still in pain. "This potion is weak, too."

"I'm so sorry. Did I make it wrong?"

"No, it's no fault of yours. A student's potion is never going to be stronger than a potioneer's. Besides, wiggenweld does very little regardless." He took another breath, carefully rubbing his thigh. "I wonder if you might do me another favour?"

"Of course, sir," you answered without hesitation.

"Never speak of this to anyone."

Your shoulders bucked. Taking his focus from his leg, his eyes met yours. He was serious, but it wasn't a threat. It was a sign of trust. It didn't have to be, but it was—an ask, not a demand. Eager to prove yourself worthy of that trust, you nodded.

"Of course, sir. I won't."

"Then you have my gratitude."

"But, sir—?" Your throat tightened, knowing you were about to push your luck. "Perhaps you should start using a cane. At least until spring, when it gets a little warmer?"

The silence cut into your soul. His black eyes stared you down, but you couldn't figure out what he was thinking. He didn't look angry or insulted, but he didn't look indulgent either. He was impossible to read sometimes.

"No need."

You didn't push it. "Okay."

"Thank you for your help, but I'm fine now."

"That's good." Things were getting awkward, mostly because you weren't sure if you believed him. "Can you walk?"

"What was it you wanted to ask me?" he injected. "About your potion?"

"Oh, well..." He was willing to talk, so you supposed he really was on the mend. "The erumpent potion. I went to J. Pippin's to buy some powdered erumpent horn, but he was sold out."

"You should've ordered it earlier, at the beginning of the school year. I sent all the students a syllabus and Pippin replenishes his supplies every September for that very purpose."

"I'm sorry, Professor. I did order it, but ... the dragon."

Sharp held his tongue, choosing his next words wisely. He could be cold, but he wasn't heartless, and he knew revisiting that day disturbed you. In fact, out of all the professors at Hogwarts, he was perhaps the most attentive and tender in that context, likely because he knew what it was like to watch someone die.

"Go on," he said, softly.

Your fingers curled. "Professor Fig and I never managed to find one of my clothing bags, which is fine, but I didn't remember until just a few days ago that I packed some ingredients in there. I completely forgot because I put most of them in my satchel, but they couldn't all fit. I'm afraid one of those ingredients was the powdered horn."

"I see." He let out a shaky sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have some in storage. You can use that, but just this once."

"Thank you, sir."

"And don't tell the other students. The last thing I need is some sentiment floating around that they can slack off and ask me to foot the bill."

"Understood, sir."

"Good. Now, if that answers your question, you should be on your way. Class is over, after all."

"Will you be alright?"

"Yes." There was a hint of frustration in his remark. "You, on the other hand, are going to be late for your next class."

You looked at the clock and were shocked to discover the afternoon break was almost over. It didn't feel like you'd been chatting for very long, but the realisation that you'd have to sprint halfway across the castle to make it to your next class caused you to jump out of your seat. Before leaving, you thanked Sharp one last time, but as you crossed the threshold and rushed around the corner, you slowed. Something wasn't right. You didn't know how you knew, but you couldn't shake the feeling. After a few long strides, you came to a grinding halt, your hand resting against the wall.

As you waited for something you weren't sure was going to happen, it happened. From the classroom, you heard a piercing yelp that made your whole body stiffen, then a thud. Horrified, you ran back and found Sharp curled up on the floor, his jaw clenched and eyes squinted shut. While trying to steady himself with one hand, the other pushed against his hip, the pain excruciating.

"Professor!"

You ran to his side and crouched to his level, but he let out a violent hiss when you touched his arm. It wasn't because he was rejecting you, though, but because any physical contact, no matter where it was, only served to amplify his pain. Every muscle, every nerve screamed in agony.

"D-don't touch me," he begged through gritted teeth.

You obliged, only removing your cape and draping it over his legs; an act of which he didn't protest. As you hoped, the warmth offered some alleviation, but not much. For a while, you both stayed there, his leg twitching as he sucked in air through his nostrils, his moans distressing. You had never seen a grown man writhe in such obvious torture. It was almost too much for you to bear, but you knew it was infinitely worse for him.

"I ... I think I should get the nurse."

He reached out, suddenly, and clutched your wrist. As he held on, you could feel his body shudder and contract. His cheeks were white as sheets and his hair stuck to the sweat soaking his brow. It looked like he'd been hit with the cruciatus curse, but he still managed to cough up an audible "no".

"Oh please, Professor! Please!"

He shook his head, barely. He couldn't speak anymore. He could hardly move, except for the involuntary spasms. You couldn't believe you fell for his reassurances, for his helpful teacher act. He'd been suffering the entire time, but it was too late for him to apparate somewhere safe. He couldn't concentrate, couldn't answer you, and that scared you. You weighed your options, considered spells, considered trying to carry him, but all of those were foolish notions. He was twice your size, and shifting him even an inch caused him to wail.

"Ah ... aughh!"

His cries pushed you over the edge. Even if it made him hate you, even if you lost his trust forever, you didn't care. You apologised, then raced to the hospital wing with more speed than you thought you were capable of. When you returned with help, Sharp was still on the floor, and in an even worse way than when you left him. Something was very wrong, which the nurse divulged immediately. Ignoring his objections, she gave you a nod of approval, letting you know you made the right decision, then disapparated, taking your ailing professor in tow.

Nearly two weeks later, you received a summons to visit Sharp in the faculty hall. He'd only recently returned to Hogwarts and he was set to resume teaching in a few days, but you weren't sure how to take the news. You were certain he'd be furious with you. After all, he ended up in St Mungo's and his absence had become a famed rumour amongst the students. No doubt he intended to berate you, but you accepted it. Standing outside his room, you mustered your courage and knocked.

"Come in, and keep the door open."

You did as he asked, finding him sat in his armchair not too far from the entrance. As you hobbled in, he gestured to a chair he'd placed across from him, and you took it, but without meeting his gaze. For some reason, you felt embarrassed, if not slightly fearful. Once situated, you didn't say anything, instead choosing to grip your pants out of nervousness.

"Look at me," he said, sending a shiver up your spine.

Hesitating, you lifted your head, your eyes heavy. He looked exhausted. He looked like he'd been through hell. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual, almost bruised, and his stubble was unusually outgrown. An attempt had been made to brush his hair, but it still sprung out in certain areas, emphasising his lack of energy. Realising this, a suffocating sense of guilt consumed you. You wondered if his time in St Mungo's had been a negative experience, and if so you blamed yourself. Taking a quivering breath, you looked away, ashamed.

"Sir, I'm so sor—"

"Forgive me."

You gasped, quietly. "What?"

"That day, after class, I'm well aware you must have been terrified. You wanted to help me, but I made that difficult." Your eyes were wide as saucers as you listened. "Mrs. Weasley informed me you've been withdrawn in your other classes. Is it too presumptuous of me to assume that's because of me?"

You flinched, hanging on every word he uttered. "N-no, sir! I mean, maybe a little. I have a lot on my mind, but I did worry you might ... you might hate me now."

He chuckled, putting your worries at ease. "It takes a lot for me to genuinely hate a student." He sat back, exhaling as he rubbed his thigh, which was clearly sore but in much better condition. "No, I don't hate you. I was upset at the time, but that's my problem. A student should never have to see their teacher in such a sorry state."

"I didn't mind. It's not your fault you can't—!" You cut yourself off. No matter what you said, it wouldn't change his mind. His pride was already wounded and pity was the last thing he needed. "I'm sorry, sir. You don't deserve this."

He shrugged. "I actually owe you more than an apology."

You raised an eyebrow, confused. "Sir?"

"My injury," he wheezed. "That day, it was different. The pain was ... well, it was trying to tell me something, but I was being stubborn and now I've paid the price."

You looked at his leg, his hand resting just above his knee. "It's gotten worse."

"It would have, had you not fetched the nurse when you did. Evidently, the muscles beneath my scars started to deteriorate. My first few days in St Mungo's were spent merely trying to keep them stable." He cleared his throat, his voice strained. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I-I think so," you stuttered. "You've been too hard on your leg."

"Yes, and if not for your actions that day, I might've lost it entirely." You blinked as he stood ever so slowly, his hand firmly gripping the cane he'd hidden beside his chair. "I've never been particularly good at showing my gratitude, but you have it nonetheless."

"I ... you're welcome, sir." You could tell it was hard for him, that he was self-conscious about the whole situation, but he was trying his best to be cordial. "I'm glad you're okay. You are okay, right?"

"I'm fine." He groaned, caught off guard by your sincerity. "That said, never second guess yourself, not even if an irascible old fool like me gives you grief. You did well."

As he faced the wall, almost shyly, you smiled. "That's a beautiful cane, sir."

"Yes, well, I shall see you in class. I expect you've been keeping up with your studies?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Then I look forward to seeing what you've learned." Sensing his insistence, you stood and headed for the door. "One more thing." Meeting you at the archway, his limp countered by the cane, he handed you a small sack. "Professor Hecat told me she moved the syllabus around while she was covering for me. The erumpent potion has been rescheduled to next week, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You'll be needing those supplies, then." Curious, you loosened the pullstring, but he stopped you. "Open it on your own time, please. I assure you, there's plenty to sift through."

You thanked him again, heading out as he led you. Once in the hall, he muttered a "good day", then politely closed the door. Needless to say, the exchange went better than you imagined; you squeezed the sack as you processed it. Sharp was, much to your surprise, far more reasonable than you gave him credit for, and you felt horrible for having expected otherwise.

As you headed off, you unrolled the edges of the sack, itching to see what was inside, and when its contents came into view, you froze. Powdered erumpent horn, to be sure, but a variety of other ingredients also caught your eye. Abraxan hair, aconite, alihosty, billywig slime, lovage, maw, hellebore, rue. Some of the ingredients were rare and expensive. The generosity of it spoke volumes, louder than words. There was enough in there to last you until next term, and perhaps longer.

"There you are!" a voice shouted as you exited to the main hall. It was Poppy, running towards you with a glowing smile. "I've been looking everywhere for you! What're you doing all the way over—?" She looked down the corridor you'd just left. "Oh, that's right. I forgot you had a meeting with Professor Sharp." She frowned. "How'd that go? Did he chew you out?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you tightened the sack and swung it over your shoulder. "Come on, Poppy. He's not so bad."

[candygalaxyyy]

WARNING: SEPARATING THE ACTOR FROM THE ACTING/CHARACTER. IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THAT THEN SCROLL ALONG

Okay now i love Khaotung as much as the next person, but Ray is the biggest red flag and it’s gotten to the point where I can’t defend him any more. I have to admit that I was partially blinded by Khao and dismissed some of Ray’s behaviour because of Khao, but not anymore.

I think something that sums up Ray’s character very well is the fact that he treats people the way he treats alcohol, and money. This is especially true for his behaviour towards Sand. We know that Ray still likes Mew. Prior to the end of episode 7, Mew would always shut down Ray’s advances and scold him for his addiction. Mew even stopped being Ray’s emergency contact because he has seen Ray grapple with his addiction for so long, to the point where he’s tired of it. But then Sand comes along, someone who is giving Ray all this attention even while they’re strangers. Sand gives Ray so much attention that he becomes his new emergency contact. Any stable person, who is emotionally available, would have already been in a relationship with a person like Sand by this point. But Ray isn’t stable or emotionally available. He’s a ticking time bomb. So Sand being so attentive and easily giving into Ray results in him being disposable, just like alcohol and money. Notice how Ray always starts drinking heavily when things upset him or don’t go his way; like when Top was first introduced to the friend group and started flirting with Mew at P’Yo’s bar. He also throws money at whatever he wants, especially when he’s rejected the first time, like when he wanted Sand to be his drinking buddy and started upping the price when Sand started walking away.

So when he can’t get what he wants from Mew, he starts messing with Sand to fill that space. He knows that Sand will always just give in to him so he treats him however he pleases. He even calls Sand a wh0re and offers to pay him, even though Sand has told Ray it’s not like that countless times before. He does not care about Sand’s feelings at all. He couldn’t even say sorry for his harsh words when they were at the hospital, yet Sand apologizes for giving him the audio clip!!!

In fact, Sand is so disposable to Ray that when the opportunity presents itself, Ray snatches it up with ease. He was so pleased to hear that Top and Mew broke up. Someone on tiktok even pointed out how Ray immediately started a fight when Top came over to the hostel. He does not want there to be any chance of them getting back together, because then he wouldn’t be Mew’s rebound any longer (and he knows he’s a rebound and I think he’s even proud of it).

I see people saying that they hope this MewRay rebound situation will lead Ray to come to a realization about his feelings for Sand. But I say, fuck Ray and his realization! Because Ray is functioning on E, there’s no need for him to be with anyone for a long time. He needs therapy and rehab. And next week’s episode is going to be a testament to this, as even though Ray ends up with his so-called beloved Mew he is still a ticking time bomb. He’s even turning Mew into one and still bothering Sand while he’s trying to move on from him. I am no longer rooting for any couple besides the lesbians and P’Yo

[capricioussun]

I just noticed Copper and Ghost in that list of characters. What are those two like personality wise? 👀

I am SO glad you asked, I've been thinking of those two a lot lately for some reason...

Back when I was first getting into aus, I got pretty turned around by all the different sf/fs aus, and never really felt like my multitudes of attempts fit right, but after I had a more solid foundation with all the others, I decided to come back to them and make my own "from scratch"

Hence, Metal & Glass as their separators!

This makes Copper more closely aligned with Stretch, while Ghost is more closely aligned with Edge! Of course, each au has their own lore that further differentiates them from their alternates, but that's (mostly) besides the point

⭒

Copper - from the outside looking in, Copper comes across arrogant and careless. He’s self assured, cocky, and while he’s generally conflict avoidant, doesn't shy away from stepping on toes. Few truly even believe he’s the Judge because of his total lacking respect of the queen, and general inability to take things seriously. He’s sarcastic, flirtatious, and even plays "pranks" on the rare occasion, but anyone who pays attention can see he’s just as affected by the state of the underground as anyone else.

Going beyond surface level (aha), Copper is incredibly observant. When it comes to important things, or potential threats, there are few who have intuition as keen as his. Unfortunately though, he can be a little less astute with less dangerous social situations, and truly does speak before thinking at times. He genuinely doesn't mean to offend more often than not, but correcting anyone of misconceptions would be showing weakness, which is partially how he winds up with his aforementioned reputations.

Despite this, he cares more than he wishes he did, and tries his best to look out for those he cares for, even if his best falls ever shorter of being enough as conditions underground worsen, along with his own apathy.

With strangers, he comes off as quick witted and sharp tongued, but also lazy and purposefully annoying. With people close to him, he’s generally more quiet, prefers actions to words, and does little things to look after them.

He’s got thick skin, but more than anything the loneliness is what hurts him. But distance is safety. And he’s still got people to look after, so he can't go putting them all at risk just for a little self satisfaction...

⭒

Ghost - despite few knowing he’s the Judge, many are wary of him all the same. Predominantly mute, merciless in his work, and eerily watchful, Ghost's nickname suits him incredibly well. He’s got possibly the worst resting bitch face anyone's ever seen, and due to his inexpressive nature, most assume he is some level of pissed off at any given time. They're not entirely wrong though, so that actually works in his favor more often than not. He appears slow moving and indifferent, but strikes like a viper and has little patience for those endangering others. It's understood this isn't due to a strong sense of justice but rather strict adherence to his responsibilities as a member of the guard.

However, prying under that veneer, Ghost cares very deeply about the few "close" to him, his brother, Undyne, and eventually Chara. Even, to a lesser extent, Toriel, though it's rooted more in pity than anything else. He was "raised" with a strong sense of responsibility forced upon him, and his more emotional side was staunchly repressed for so long it's atrophied a bit. For the best though, it keeps them safer, but he does understand it's a weakness in its own respect...

He may come across very cold and uncaring, but it's more observant and wary than most realize. He does not like violence. He does not like the state of things. But there's little he can do besides focus on what he can, and so he does. A deceitfully tireless worker, and perhaps cares more about those outside his circle than they'd believe. Still prefers animals though.

[tf-boi]

Interesting Birthday Gift

Thanks for Baranchik3 for the gift.

********************************************

*ding dong* The door bell rang.

“Could you get it?” My boyfriend says from his computer.

“Whaaat?” I questioned “Can’t you get it? Its my birthday!” I say snug in our bed. 

“I have a meeting in 5 minutes and I have to prepare the meeting notes!” He said with his eyes on the monitor.

“Sigh. . .fine. . .” I said walking out of the bed in my PJ’s. As I open the door I just see a small box addressed to me, without a return address. “Odd . . .” I said to myself. Taking it in and opening it, despite this looking shady as hell. Taking out the wrapping and stuffing I am greeted by a blue speedo and a note that read

"Happy birthday! This little blue guy volunteered to be in your possession as long as you want to. You can do whatever you want with him because he is absolutely immobile and inanimate."

Picking it up I gave it a whiff “Smells normal enough . . .”.

Taking it upstairs I quickly change out of PJ’s and into my new speedo. Surprisingly it fits perfectly and snuggles my crotch nicely. “Oh wow!” I say, stepping out of the restroom “How do I look babe?” I say facing my lover.

“Come here. . .” He gestured. As I walked close he grabbed me by my wasted and started to fondle my body, paying especial attention to my crotch area. Slipping his hand into my new speedo he caresses my cock lovingly. As I was about to start moaning he covered my mouth with his hand. I see that his meeting has started but he had turned his camera off, stating a camera malfunction to his superiors. With that they continued the meeting with him playing with my cock and balls as he delivered a flawless meeting without the usage of his hands, I was never so turned on by this act of dominance over me. Precum leaks steadily as I hold in my urge to shoot my load right then and there. After his meeting ends he takes his ands off my mouth and speedo.

“Let’s give learning how to swim another try today after work” He said kissing my neck.

“In THIS weather?” I said pointing to the rain.

“Its okay the gym has a heated pool now, plus I can reserve it so its all to ourselves.”

“Fine. . .” I submitted.

As I got up and gave myself another look in the mirror I thought to myself “These are pretty comfy, I guess I’ll wear them for the day.”

Throughout the day as I do a few chores I noticed my lover slapping my ass more often than usual. At one point, I thought I even felt my new speedo twitch in joy.

After work we made our way into the gym and into the showers to wash up before we swim. As I finish rinsing my hair, I feel my boyfriend’s hands feeling me up and him kissing my neck lovingly. “H-hey stop. . .not right here!”

“Heh, sorry, lets go.” He said leading me into the pool. As we start my swimming lesson, he holds my hands as I kick about. Without noticing we reach the deep end, him floating upright. He then swims away as I barely am able to float.

“Hey! This ain’t funny!” I protested.

Suddenly I am pulled under by my boyfriend, him pressing my body against the wall reading 7ft. As I hold onto the wall, I feel my boyfriends hard cock pressing against my buns. “D-don’t just float there!” I say with lust in my voice.

My boyfriend’s hand moves my speedo partially off, enough for him to slip his shaft into my ass hole. He starts railing me as I hang on the wall, both of us moaning in the heat of fucking in the pool. My moans get louder as I feel the force of his cock pounding my tight ass get tougher and tougher. “N-not so hard!” I say, however he didn’t listen, he just goes faster and harder. My erect cock leaking more precum into the pool. After my sore ass gets a nice beating I couldn’t hold back, my rock hard cock shoots streams and streams of cum onto the inside of my speedos a, cloud of cum appearing around me.

“Don’t think I’m gonna stop!” My boyfriend growls into my ear.

“I wasn’t gonna ask you to~” I respond, my dick instantly getting hard again. 

We continue to fuck until the water is completely clouded with cum.

“Time to finish up!” My boyfriend says as he lifts me out of the pool.

“W-wha-?” I questioned as his shaft unleashes his load all over me covering my body head to toe in warm love juices.

“I’m all sticky now!” I say licking cum off my body.

“Lets get cleaned up and go home for round two!” My boyfriend says lifting me up.

I’m not sure what’d going on today, but maybe its the speedos. I don’t think I’m ever taking them off if this continues! But oddly enough I feel a odd sensation coming from them, as if they were feeling everything I was. Meh maybe it was just my imagination . . . But I do wonder, what did the note meant by this guy volunteered. . .?