#(who isn't wearing tights so it makes sense because fabric thickness)

[solradguy]

I need 2 see nagos model so I can stare at his ass for research purposes ~pumpkin anon

Genuinely really impressed they gave him this much butt considering he's wearing like 900 layers of robes lol

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

no kisses needed.

© @sonsofeorl

JOHNNY ‘COCO’ CRUZ.

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @blowmymbackout: reader has a co-worker who just won't take the hint that reader isn't interested and has a bf she tells Coco he picks her up from work confronts the man. Coco is a lil jealous. Co-worker facetimes reader while coco has her in this position (sorry if that didn't make any sense)

❝ words: about 1.2k.

❝ warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, language, voyeurism (????), coco being a little possessive, mention of bodily fluids.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

You weren't expecting Coco to pick you up from work today, but you guess he has just done it to see who's the fucker trying to flirt with his girl. The guy is uglier than the back of a fridge, and he feels some comfort in it. But not enough to calm down his jealousy. He —better than anybody— knows that you don't care about a pretty face, you care about a beautiful heart, tho. His insecurities come afloat on your way back home, worrying you because he's more silent than ever, not even getting a response when you whisper in his ear how much you have missed him today after waking up alone.

Coming into your house with his face down, Coco leaves his kutte and both helmets on the coffee table, a second before falling onto your sofa. A leg over it, the other flexed to the floor. Your boyfriend looks at you, thoughtful and very concentrated on the way you have to remove your jacket and walk towards his position. You know exactly what's on his mind and that touches your soul. His demons eat him alive with no mercy. Kneeling a leg between his —placing your phone close to his black helmet—, you lean down with both hands on his chest for balance, landing your lips onto his left ear.

“Can you do something for me?” You hum with such a sweet tone, caressing his cheek with the tip of your nose. And you hear him swallowing slowly. “Fuck me, Coco. I need you so fuckin' much… You can't imagine… Can you do that for me, ah? Can you fuck me so hard I forgot my name but not who I belong to?”

He utters a feral snarl, noticing then that your right hand has made its way to his dick. You grip it over the rough fabric, swinging it with a tortuous pace, fixing your eyes on his. Coco is about to kiss you when you push him down using your left hand.

“I don't want your kisses now”. You whisper accommodating yourself over the delicious rock under his clothes. “I want your dick. I want you to fuck me till I have to beg you to stop”.

How does he manage to roll you down his body? You don't know. But the fact is that, in less than a second, you're lying on your stomach and your boyfriend is removing your sneakers and your jeans. He can't help but lick his lips keenly as he glances at the small spot darkening your panties, the evidence of how wet you are because of him.

“Fuck, ma'...”

Coco rips off the piece of clothing causing you to gasp, while you take off the shirt covering your torso, only leaving the blue bra you're wearing beneath it. He undoes it to throw it to the floor too, sliding an arm under your stomach to make you raise your ass. With his free hand, your boyfriend pulls down his jeans and boxers enough to let his hard cock spring free. He doesn't prepare you. Coco guides his glans to your folds to slam his thick length into your soaked cunt. You moan loud and clear his full name, as he settles his body between your spread legs.

Digging his fingers in your hips, aware that he probably will leave some marks there, he doesn't show any mercy. He hits your guts and your soul once and once with an insane pace that causes you to roll your eyes, nailing your hands on the armrest to find some equilibrium and receive every pound straight to your g-spot without falling over it. Coco is fucking you as hard as you have asked him, blanking your mind and making a mess of your vocals.

And he doesn't stop when your phone starts to ring. The name of your co-worker appearing on the screen. Your boyfriend has the brilliant idea of pulling your hair back by tangling his digits there, bringing his lips to your ear. His other hand grabs your device to put it at the height of your faces, sliding his thumb to answer the video call.

The first thing your partner can see is the pleasure gesture on yours, moaning and screaming Coco's name, not having noticed yet what he is doing until you hear your co-worker calling you.

“Tell him how good I fuck you, ma'”. Your boyfriend demands with such a throaty growl, thrusting his thick and hard length into you, impaling your body against the sofa.

“Shit…” You almost cry. “He fucks me so damn good”.

“That's it… Tell him… Tell him who you belong to”.

You know that he's enjoying it, but you can't answer when your partner hangs up the call. Coco can't help but laugh, tosing your phone to the table, to occupy his hand in a better place. Wrapping it around your throat, your boyfriend forces you to kneel on the cushions, sticking his chest to your back.

“Bet he won't forget”. He grunts into your ear, tilting your head to tuck his tongue within your mouth.

He drinks your pleas, your begs, your gaps, placing your fingers around his wrists, aware that you're not going to last much more because of what has just happened. And he feels it. He feels how your whole anatomy gets tensed with every push to your guts, creating an erotic melody of flesh against flesh. Pulling you down again and gripping your hips, Coco increases the pace of his lungs, giving you more pleasure than you can bear with, still enraged because of that shithead thinking he could have some kind of opportunity with you. You are his. Like your heart, your soul, your thoughts.

“Ah, fuck, baby”. You paint roaring, biting your lips until the metallic taste of blood floods your mouth.

The tickles in your lower belly grow by leaps and bounds, making your heart stop for a brief instant before the orgasm blows out all your senses and the electrical lash roams your back. It takes Coco only two slams more into your soaked pussy to cum inside you, filling you as much as he can press his body against yours. He doesn't feel jealous, nor angry anymore. He simply is too tired after that rough quickly, marking your skin wherever his teeth have reached it.

Loosening his grip bit by bit to pull his wet dick out from you, your boyfriend holds your phone again to take a picture of his warm seed spilling out from your abused lips. A piece of art under his dark eyes. Lying on your back and placing a smooth kiss on top of your head, he shows you the little mess he has done with a proud smile crossing his exhausted mouth.

���Was tha' what you wanted?”

“Uh-huh”. You whisper resting your cheek over your forearms, turning slightly at him. “Did you have fun, Coquito?”

“I always have fun ruining your sweet tight pussy, ma'. I don' even mind if that cabrón wanna come and look the next time”.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow @tenderclio @badame1240 @regalbanshee

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveeee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @theocatkov @telfordlowmans

[muffindaddystyles]

Hearth.

A/N: I dunno if I've got any desi/brown/poc readers but if you're reading this I love you so much and you (us) deserve the same validation and representation others get.

Here's a blurb as to what it feels like celebrating Eid with Harry! Enjoy!

Warning: none — just loads of fluff.

More Inspos, Masterlist, Let's Talk

The night's pretty with murky clouds and thick layer of moon's brightness as Y/N cleans her flat, from scrubbing her Persian rugs to deep cleansing her vases back from her homeland. The flame evaporating from her candles scented like springs of Kashmir, flickers from her blowing sheer curtains due to the zephyr flurring outside.

She feels content, at peace waiting for Harry who promised that he'll be at her place by 11. He always comes an hour early helping her in setting the table before the iftari, they've been doing it together since the start of ramdan until today when he texted her he's busy along with a sad smiley.

It was fun. He fasted with her once or twice and would make sure she's hydrated enough once they break it, his love for rooh-afzah (it's a drink red in color made from essence of roses and some sweet herbs) will never fail to make her giggle as he'd demand for more after gulping two glasses already.

Then showing her his tummy along with his food pregnant jokes.

Her classes are online so it gave her time to experiment some cooking. They'd make samosas together and she always had an urge to hold back her cooes as his tongue used to poke out in concentration everytime his diligent fingers folded the samosa sheets skillfully.

"Did a pretty go'job here, innit?" He'd grin raising it like a summat trophy.

The moment he used to leave her flat (ofcourse after giving a tight hug before doing so) they both missed eachother terribly, y/n doesn't like the way her home falls into an abyss without his presence.

He's like a sunshine that warms her insides up.

The whistle of kettle and several raps of knocks on her door drags her from her fond memories of them together, she slings her feet down from the coffee table rushing to open it.

"Angel."

Harry says breathlessly prolly because he climbed three flight of stairs to get to her or that he's utterly flustered.

Her eyes remain struck at the thingies piled in his arms, a box of chocolates, many brown bags and stems of freshly blood ripped roses tucked between his knuckles.

He bought all of these gifts for her.

To make her feel like home.

To be her home.

What the fuck, nobody has ever done that for her —-- she just mighty cry.

Her mouths gupples like a fish too overwhelmed to react her emotions out and he gives her a sweet smile kicking the door shut with his feet -- gestures her to wait when she almost jumps like a cub to hug him and puts everything on the sofa knowing the things inside them's too delicate.

"C'mere, baby." He grins and she doesn't waste a moment falling in his embrace. Her cheeks smashes against his taught chest and she fists the hem of his shirt smiling too hard for her own sake as he sways them with his own rosy cheek squished against her temple.

"I love you so much, thank you." She murmurs gazing up at him with glinting eyes -- arms still lopped around his waist and his chin doubles adorably as he gives her his signature bunny grin kissing the tip of her nose, "Love you too bubba ... don't want ya homesick, at alllll."

The aggressive whistle of kettle parts them away, "Cuppa cha? Then we'll unwrap these pleasanteris." She points at the paper bags.

He nods flopping onto the floor cushions beside the large oak window of the balcony where they could bathe in moonlight.

"Thank you." He quips, kissing her fingertips while slipping his fingers under the handle of mug and takes it from her as she sits infront of him. He admires her for a second —- fawning over how she's looking so soft and cuddle-able wearing a baggy mauve kurta and some mismatched shalwar.

The tearing open of the stuffing tissue brings him back to focus --- this, he wanted to see this happiness dance over her features as she clutches the ethnic traditional dress he bought for her infront of her and when lifts it down he's met by overly excited eyes.

It's ethereal with golden details, handmade wire work and sheer fabric.

"It's gorgeous, pups." She squeezes his hand and he takes the sip of his cha smiling against the rim of the mug shyly, "Wasn't s' sure -- Sarah helped me in collecting stuff." Sarah's Y/N's bestfriend who was the only desi/brown in her filming class.

"No wonder she was being a lil sneak." Y/N chuckles already rummaging for what comes next.

He wanted to make sure he gets her everything they do traditionally in her culture and ate Sara's ears off to help him buy the most special thing and it's right there creating sweet noise when they touch eachother, dangling from her fingers.

"Churiyan .... " She whispers bitting down a smile. She loves glass bangles. Their colourfulness cheers her mood up and she'd always go with her Nani a night prior eid to select the most flamboyant pair of them from a bazar (market).

"This -— " She gestures to the gifts scattered around them, " —-- all of this and you, means alot to me." She sighs giving him a wet smile and he smoothes his thumb against her cheek like she's the most fragile thing to exist.

He watches her in a tad confusion when she stands up with a giggly squeal putting everything away and comes back with a tube of henna in her hand.

"It's chand raat t'night 'cos tommorrow is eid -- usually I spend it with Sarah and we apply henna to eachother, we're horrible at it honestly but now she isn't here 'm gonna bite yours ears —-" He cuts her off. Ushering her to sit back on her spot. He couldn't be more glad to spend all of his time with her whether it's just watching her make designs on her hand with henna.

"Your cha's waftin'." He shakes his head bringing it to her lips, "It's hot." She tells him drawing a circle on her palm and filling it with beautiful darkness of henna.

"Okie then ... " He blows at the hot beverage to cool it down and again brings it to her lips, "Now." He croons softly to her. She holds his wrist taking a sip from it -- he tucks the strand of her hair back and she smiles up at him making him chuckle when she takes a huge sigh as if her soul just woke up.

"What do we d'tommorrow?" He asks. Knowing most of the time they went to Zayn's house on Eids his mother used to fill the whole table with delicious dishes and the whole day was spent having fun.

"We do nothing but have loads of nice time -- I already made a dessert 'cos I know I'll be too lazy in the mornin', and invited your friends if that's okay?" She glances up at him done with her left palm.

"Perfect then," He nods, "D'ya need help with the other one?" He asks grabbing her right hand and the tube of henna from her.

"Yes, please." She shows him her hand covered with with henna and since it's wet she could do one thing wait or let him do it. The second options sounds more good.

"Not on me if it gets messed up." He warns her nonchalantly following the same pattern of her left hand. Stealing glances of her attractive face every now and then, dotting her moles with his intense gaze, he just thinks her brown eyes look more intricate – it's specks as if the forests soil on the first rains when they dilate with her racing heartbeat.

They're like an open book to him and at the same time mysteriously dark that he feels like burning a match to melt in them.

"You did it way better than me," She snorts examining it closely and turns the other way round to lay down on the carpeted floor and rest her head in his lap. He wipes his own hands watching the dark henna leaving a swipe of color on his fingertips.

He pets her hair, dimples milking into his cheeks when she raises her both hands infront of him -- blocking the moonlight that's falling on her, "When I was small I always used to end up getting it on my face and lemme tell ya. Having a yellow blotch isn't even a tiny bit fascinating on the only day you could dress up fancy."

His chest rumbles with giggles and he brings her hands closer to her lips blowing raspberries at them to get them dry early.

Comfortable silence envelopes them in to the point where they could hear crickets singing outside and moonlight sparkling on their skin —- she breaks it cuddling up into his chest.

"I really appreciate this, Harry." Her voice hushed whisper and her cherry stained lips couldn't resist but to patch kisses where his heart lays and she could sense it kicking a pace, "The fact that you did so much just for me -- is beyond my thought. I really feel like home." He let her speak. Squeezing her shoulders to convey the fierceness of his emotions he holds for her. His silken lips pressed to her temple and his eyelids flutters with each spurt of breath she inhales.

"I'll keep making you feel like home, till the day you'll allow me." Today. He for actually felt that his home was never a building or the luxurious furniture adorned inside it, but her. It's always gonna be her.

Because the moment he gets lost in those eyes all he come across is their shared laughter, their moments spent on this balcony right outside sipping onto their chas and watching the city wake up infront of their eyes, going to places he has never been to before, doing things he never thought he'd do in hundered years —- he isn't a big fan of spices but he still pretends like a big boi infront of her while eating pani puri she's oh so obsessed with.

The times she was never embarrassed to introduce him to her community or her friends, and getting soaked into rains even though they could've just used his car, having days planned to make him try new desi dishes, going to buy candles of many scent and shapes with him but then never feeling like leaving the store until he warns her that he'll throw her on his shoulder infront of everyone.

Going to Turkish markets together. He's a bread lover and so all this time he doesn't feel like leaving the shops filled with different kiln and tandoori breads. Eating Simit and drinking black tea in the amardu cups sitting outside the cafe –- he likes it with cheese while she might sound bland she just likes a bit of butter.

Them deciding for hours and hours which Persian rug to buy -- but never buying it apologising to the shop keeper.

Giving eachother head massages from the organic rosemary Morrocon oil that one of her friend gifted her, (Y/N) thinks she's one hell of a masseuse but Harry thinks otherwise —- though he would never ever break her heart so it's better keeping it a secret.

His nose creates a purring sound while he sleeps leaning against the wall, he doesn't even remember when he fell into the deep slumber with his large hand still wrapped around her wrist in a protective manner to keep her from moving.

It's cute.

Though when she stirs to regain consciousness with the birds chirping outside she feels remorseful finding him sleeping in such an uncomfy position just because of her and he wakes up with a loud wheeze —- blinking rapidly to see what just happened only to visibly relax back when she shushes him gently.

"Baby .... shit." He grogs out, knuckling at his eyes pointing at her jaw which's covered into a orangish streak, "Don't tell me." She groans bumping her head against his bicep.

A moment later they burst into fits of hoarse giggles and chuckles. She'd try to suck in air to not to snort and would do it nonetheless driving them more into belly aching laughter.

"Eid Mubarak, I guess?" He cackles loudly. Dimple coveting in to his velvet of skin. Rubs the tip of his nose against her's affectionately and swoons her in his arms to hug her warmly.

"Now -— go 'n dress up, c'mon." He cups the nape of her neck playing with the baby hair there and she whines smushing her face against his chest, "No. Lemme sleep some more."

"Heyyy none of that, c'mon sleepy girl you'll regret it later." He boops her nose smiling down at her fondly and she grumbles mumbling something in between you're so annoying or you're being so much like my mum.

He waits for her laying on the sofa with his arms folded and eyes closed. Prolly took a mini version of nap only to perk his head up grabbing the back of sofa when she returns with wet hair, soft clean face and lips tinted cherry wearing the dress and bangles he bought for her.

An enchantress from head to toe, he wouldn't even complain if she bewitches him.

He needs someone to pinch his bum because he thinks his eyelids might have struck. He takes a dramatic breather mischievously, pupils dilated cutesly and heart shaped lips parted with the sweet loving words in praise of her beauty burning at the tip of his tongue.

His fawning gives her butterflies. Expanding her chest with warmth and she does a three-sixty when he spindles his nimble in the air demanding her to show herself from every angle.

Her head falls back. An echo of happy giggles resonating in the room when he smacks his hand against his chest and flops into heaps of sofa cushions.

"You're fuckin' beautiful, a total knockout." He walks towards her with his hands spread open and takes her's to kiss the inside of her palms, "So are you." Her voice small with shyness. He sits on her on sofa and stays beside her with his chin perched upon his knuckles staring at her like she hung the moon -- as if she's a prayer come true.

"Did you get me ready to d'nothing?" She turns towards him. The curled up fringes kissing the apples of her cheeks same as his fingertips are dying to do so.

"I might sound selfish but it was a trap to get you ready early so I could admire you till everyone squeeze between us ... " He smirks and she huffs sinking deeper into the sofa throwing her limbs in air and his breath hitches when her bangles clanks together producing a beautiful noise.

"Harry!!" She whines.

"Okie, time to fill some grumpy kitten's tummy." He announces standing up to head to kitchen and she shakes her head with a silly smile trailing behind him.

All she knows is that. This Eid she'll have the best time of her life, as she could already feel his energy and love radiating in every corner of her home.

.

@harryforvogue idk why but everytime I'd sit to write this blurb you'd pop in my mind, hope so you're not hiccuping wildly.

[underfell-crystal]

HAHA TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY. I'll most likely write a third one today. Make sure to check out the art I've done for this series with the hashtag #StoryGlitch: UnderFell or #SG: UF !

I do not own any of the characters other than Crys, the girl with the white hair.

~~~Chapter Two: Meeting the Boss~~~

When Crys awoke, she was immediately assaulted by the smell of mustard. She blinked blearily at her surroundings, and heard a VERY loud snore from right next to her. She jumped, then looked to the side. She was greeted with Sans' sleeping face. Or, rather, she assumed he was sleeping. He still had a grin on his face, but his eyesockets were somehow closed. Fascinated, Crys squirmed into an upright position in his arms and pressed a small hand to his cheekbone. The bone was surprisingly warm, and tingled lightly under her touch. Sans grunted and snorted again, shifting at her touch. Crys touched the bone covering his eyesockets, and one opened, revealing a red light inside it.

Sans blinked at the small human child that was inches away from his face. "Uh.... kiddo? Whatcha doing?"

Crys tapped the bone above his eyesockets.  "How?"

"Huh?"

"How do your eyes close? You're just bone."

Sans chuckled, the rumble shaking Crys' entire body. "Well, babybones, I'll tell ya a secret."

Crys looked at him with large, curious eyes. Sans continued as she hung on his every word. "Now, ya can't tell anyone about this, okay? The secret is..... It's.... magic."

He winked conspirationally, grinning as Crys frowned, disappointed with his lack of explanation.

"That's not a real answer!"

"'Course it is, babybones, ya just don't like it."

Sans stretched and yawned. Immediately, Crys reached out her tiny hands and touched the edge of one of his sharp teeth.

"Ah... kid?? Wha ar ya 'oin?"

Crys was too busy poking his shark teeth to answer. His large hands carefully took hold of her wrists and pulled her hands away from his mouth. Crys huffed, and Sans chuckled nervously.

"Uh... don't go around pokin' into people's mouths, okay kiddo?"

Crys nodded and sat back on Sans' 'stomach'. Sans grinned at her.

"Want some food now?"

Crys nodded eagerly, and Sans picked her up again and shuffled into the kitchen, reheating a plate with two hot dogs on it. After they were done, Sans set her on the couch and gave her the plate. Upon further inspection, Crys noted that the hot dogs had tiny cat ears and a feline face carved into it, and solemnly ate the cute little thing. She was almost done with her first hot cat when a faint shout broke the silence. Sans jumped, then swore.

"Shit! I forgot Boss' shift is over!"

Sans scooped her up, looking down at her apologetically. "Sorry kid.. I'm gonna keep ya hidden, okay? Jus' don't move around too much."

Before she could protest or question him, Sans lifted up his red sweater and dispensed Crys into the cavity beneath his ribcage and above his pelvis. A moment later, his sweater went down, leaving Crys with very little light. The shouting was quite close now, and she heard the sound of a door being slammed open, a sharp, grating voice ringing through her ears.

"Sans! Why the fuck weren't you at your post earlier?!"

Sans coughed. "Well, Boss..... I uh.... jus' overslept is all."

The grating voice got shriller, and Crys winced, covering her ears. "Sans, you lazy ass, what if a human came through?! We must be on guard at all times! Do not let me catch you slacking off again, or I'll dust you!"

Loud, stomping footsteps made the stairs groan, and a door slammed somewhere. Sans let out a breath, his shoulders sagging. He lifted up his sweater and removed Crys from his ribcage.

"Sorry, kiddo... that was m' bro."

Crys blinked owlishly at him. "He didn't seem very nice."

Sans chuckled, though it seemed empty. "Yeah.... but he's a real softie."

Sans ascended the stairs, human child secure in his arms. He shuffled past the first door, entering the door with odd colorful flames coming out from under it. He closed the door and set Crys on the mattress on the floor. He sat down in front of her.

"Okay, babybones... we need to get ya a disguise."

Crys tilted her head. "What for?"

Sans looked nervous. He rubbed the back of his 'neck', looking away. "Listen, babybones, people.... aren't very nice down here."

"But you're nice," Crys pointed out. Sans let out an amused huff.

"Yeah, well.... everyone else isn't. And they'll likely want ta hurt ya and take yer Soul."

"My Soul?"

Sans gave her an odd look, before a look of understanding crossed his face. "Okay, babybones, don't panic, okay? I'm gonna show you yer Soul."

Crys nodded slowly, still confused. Sans leaned forward and pressed a large hand against the front of the red sweater, and when he drew it back, he was holding a blue heart. Sans sucked in a sharp breath, and Crys looked up at him. His gaze was locked on the heart in front of her. "Babybones.... what happened to yer Soul? Who hurt ya?"

His tone was low, almost a growl. Crys looked back at the blue heart and saw that it was cracked- a single white crack down to the center of the heart. Crys couldn't find it in herself to answer him. Sans cupped his hands around the blue heart gently, like he was holding a baby bird. Finally, his gaze lifted and met hers. "Babybones.... yer Soul is damaged... 's halfway through shatterin'... what happened to ya?"

Crys' throat was dry. She licked her lips and looked down, fidgeting with the hem of the sweater. She saw a couple white particles floating around her legs. "I.... I dunno... there was a man with blue strings... I kept going back, until I found a way to.... to escape... it hurt so much... I..... my momma..... I couldn't- I couldn't..."

Sans flinched as her eyes welled up with tears, his gaze darting down to the small blue Soul in his hands. He carefully moved closer and let the heart go back into Crys' chest. He picked her up and sat down on the bed, stroking her hair as she started to cry into his sweater, murmuring soothingly to her. More white particles appeared as she cried, the memories of the pain and the screaming resurfacing and hitting her like a tsunami. Finally, when she was all cried out, the particles slowly disappated. Sans rested his skull on top of her head, still running his bone-fingers through her hair. "Shh, babybones.... 's okay.... yer okay..."

Crys gulped and took a shaky breath, tilting her head back to look at him. "I-Is that why m-my.... Soul is broken...? 'Cuz of the man with the strings?"

Sans looked regretful as he nodded. "'Fraid so, babybones... and I dunno if ya can be healed... never seen a Soul halfway through shatterin'."

Crys sniffled, a couple white particles appearing around her arms. "So I'm gonna be broken forever?"

Sans shook his head, sensing her growing distress. "Yer not broken, babybones... yer strong. Ya lived through a huge amount of trauma. That's crazy!"

Crys looked up at him, tears slowing their waterfall down her face. Sans grinned at her. "Yer the strongest li'l human I know, babybones."

Crys smiled shakily at him, wiping away her tears. Sans nuzzled the top of her head, still cradling her protectively in his arms. "Let's get ya somethin' new to wear, yeah?"

Crys nodded, and he stood up, walking over to a messy closet. He began sorting through the clothes with one hand, holding her with his other arm. He grunted, pulling out a few articles of clothing and a pair of shoes that were far too large for her. He shuffled back to the bed and laid out his findings on the bed. There was another sweater- a black one-, a red hoodie that looked it could drown her in the amount of fabric, a pair of thick yellow socks, and a pair of black trousers. Sans turned away as she pulled off the tear-stained sweater and dressed in her new garments. She struggled to tie the shoes with the long sleeves covering her hands, but Sans came to her rescue, lacing them up tight enough so she wouldn't trip over her feet every time she took a step. He chuckled.

"Yer tiny, babybones... ya need some actual kid-sized clothes."

Crys nodded. She knew she looked ridiculous, with the huge shoes on her feet and the hoodie that was obviously meant for a person much bigger than her. Sans shuffled over to the closet again and came back with a white cloth mask with a cartoon smile printed onto it. Crys stared at it, then at Sans. "What's that for?"

Sans let out his rumbly laugh. "So ya won't be immediately recognized as a human, babybones."

He tied the mask around her nose and mouth. Some of her skin was still showing, and Sans moved her hair so most of her forehead was covered. He surveyed her with a 'this is good enough' look on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but an angry shout interrupted whatever he was going to say.

"SANS!! Get your lazy cocyx down here before I drag you out myself!!"

Sans turned towards the door, grumbling. "I'm comin', I'm comin'!"

Apparently he wasn't going fast enough, because as he was reaching for the door, it was slammed open, a very, VERY tall figure looming in the doorway. A pair of cold red lights locked onto Crys before turning to Sans.

"Sans..... what the fuck is that?"

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~AHAHAHAHA NOW I AM THE WIELDER OF ANGST AND FLUFF. Feel free to ask questions about the story, share your thoughts, ask headcanons, or send fanart! Make sure to check out the cover art and other drawings I've done for the series with the story tags! Thanks for reading, my gems!~