#Spot removal pen

[silky-wind]

In 5 Easy Steps, Learn How To Apply Makeup

Makeup is not easy to learn, You need to keep several things in mind while applying makeup on your face. Here I am sharing some easy to learn steps to apply makeup. Check out this infographic and give your thoughts about it.

[radioactive-earthshine]

Writing tips for long fics that helped me that no one asked for.

1.) Don't actually delete content from your WIP unless it is minor editing - instead cut it and put it in a secondary document. If you're omitting paragraphs of content, dialog, a whole scene you might find a better place for it later and having it readily available can really save time. Sometimes your idea was fantastic, but it just wasn't in the right spot.

2.) Stuck with wording the action? Just write the dialog then revisit it later.

3.) Stuck on the whole scene? Skip it and write the next one.

4.) Write on literally any other color than a white background. It just works. (I use black)

5.) If you have a beta, while they are beta-ing have them read your fic out loud. Yes, I know a lot of betas/writers do not have the luxury of face-timing or have the opportunity to do this due to time constraints etc but reading your fic out loud can catch some very awkward phrasing that otherwise might be missed. If you don't have a beta, you read it out loud to yourself. Throw some passion into your dialog, you might find a better way to word it if it sounds stuffy or weird.

6.) The moment you have an idea, write it down. If you don't have paper or a pen, EMAIL it to yourself or put it in a draft etc etc. I have sent myself dozens of ideas while laying down before sleep that I 10/10 forgot the next morning but had emailed them to myself and got to implement them.

7.) Remember - hits/likes/kudos/comments are not reflective of the quality of your fic or your ability to write. Most people just don't comment - even if they say they do, they don't, even if they preach all day about commenting, they don't, even if they are a very popular blog that passionately reminds people to comment - they don't comment (I know this personally). Even if your fic brought tears to their eyes and it haunted them for weeks and they printed it out and sent it to their friends they just don't comment. You just have to accept it. That being said - comment on the fic you're reading now, just do it, if you're 'shy' and that's why you don't comment the more you comment the better you'll get at it. Just do it.

8.) Remove unrealistic daily word count goals from your routine. I've seen people stress 1500 - 2000 words a day and if they don't reach that they feel like a failure and they get discouraged. This is ridiculous. Write when you can, but remove absurd goals. My average is 500 words a day in combination with a 40 hour a week job and I have written over 200k words from 2022-2023.

9.) There are dozens of ways to do an outline from precise analytical deconstruction that goes scene by scene to the minimalist bullet point list - it doesn't matter which one you use just have some sort of direction. A partial outline is better than no outline.

10.) Write for yourself, not for others. Write the fic you know no one is going to read. Write the fic that sounds ridiculous. You will be so happy you put it out in the world and there will be people who will be glad it exists.

[readwritealldayallnight]

“But what if you hate it?”

“I can tell ya I wouldn’t, because it’d be yours.”

“Okay but what if you actually do really hate it, and you can’t tell me because you just said that?”

“Love, ya don’ have to do this. I didn’t wan’ this to stress ya-”

“No! No, Simon I want to do it. It’s such a sweet idea you had, I’ll do another one.” You finally decide, putting the pen back to paper, unable to bring yourself to actually draw.

“Could always take any o’ the ones from the bin.” He offers, nodding his head over towards the overflowing waste basket surrounded by crumbled up pieces of paper, evidence of your many previous attempts.

When SImon had brought up the idea of you drawing something for him to add to his sleeve to represent you, you’d jumped at the opportunity, loving the idea. However, you’d all too quickly discovered that you were having issues committing to the idea of what to draw, and Simon was refusing to offer any ideas, wanting the idea and design to be entirely yours.

Appropriate to his call sign, your first instinct had been to try drawing different versions of ghosts, but each one felt too cartoony, too childish, and you passed on that idea.

Then you thought you would draw your own little skull, something that could more easily be incorporated into the images and not be totally out of theme. But the next issue to come to light though, was when the connection between you brain and your hand apparently forgot entirely how to draw a skull, and you hated everything that came up on paper.

“S’that a lightbulb?” He’d asked at one point, and the skull idea was quickly out the window too.

From there, you were worried he wouldn’t like any of your drawings, as you couldn’t bring yourself to like any them either. You’d both agreed to put a pin in it for the time being, and as the weeks passed, you nearly forgot about his request.

That was until, he came home with a plastic wrapping around his forearm.

“You hurt?” You ask him, immediately spotting the darker bandages peeking out from the edges of his sleeve as he removes his jacket.

“Nah, just got somethin’ done.” He replies, sauntering over to you, slowly folding up his sleeve to reveal more of his pale skin.

“Huh?

Instead of answering, he carefully unravels the outer layer of bandages, before slowly peeling back the bandage to show you the skin underneath, an overly pleased grin stretching across his face, chuckle bursting through as your stunned gasp echoes through your shared flat.

Forever on his skin, Simon has tattooed something you’d drawn in the first birthday card you ever gave him. In your handwriting, he can always glance down at himself and see both your and his initial with a plus sign between them, surrounded by a little heart with an arrow going through it. When you’d drawn it for him, never in a million years had you thought he would be etching the corny doodle onto himself permanently, but now, that same doodle is his favourite thing to look at when away on deployment.

[boobearymuch]

Their Habits —♡ LADS Scenarios

—♡Summary: Everyone has habits, but not everyone enjoys having you point them out... —♡Tags: gender-neutral, pure fluff —♡A/N: Silly thing I whipped up after being told I bounce my leg too much lolll —♡ masterlist

—♡ Zayne

Zayne squints so much without his glasses. He insists he only needs them when his eyes get tired—but clearly—that wasn’t the case. “Zayne, look!” You eagerly pointed out a flyer posted on the door of his favorite boba spot. They were hosting an event next weekend, it read, and encouraged customers not to miss out on the opportunity. You watched his hazel eyes sharpen into a squint.

“Event…?” He still had trouble reading it, though, and absently tugged your clasped hands forward as he leaned in for a better look. After a few seconds, his eyebrows relaxed, and he hummed appreciatively, “They’re introducing new flavors. Perhaps we should…what?” 

You failed to conceal an amused smile. “You need your glasses, old man.” The nickname was not received well, by any means.

“The text is small.” He answered coolly, “The average person would also have difficulty reading it.” Then he slipped his hand around your waist, eyes narrowing, “And I’m not old.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you laughed, “Have you considered contacts?” The look he gave you was deeply unamused, “No, no, you’re right. You look cuter in glasses, anyway.” Zayne's ears tinted pink under your playful stare. 

“...Let’s go inside before they close.” You pinched his flustered cheeks.

“Are you sure? The menu is so tiny. What if you can’t read it and order the wrong thing?” Your mouth promptly shut after his grip on you tightened in a warning. Zayne remembered to bring his glasses on your next outing (and the one after that).

—♡ Sylus

Sylus hums nonsense when it’s too quiet. It’s like he constantly needs to fill silences with some kind of noise. Even his humming is off-key…

“What song is that?” 

Sylus barely spared you a glance, “What song?” His fingers worked a microfiber cloth into the metal of his pistol. 

“The one you were just humming.”

He huffed, “Didn’t realize I was humming, sweetie.” Then he removed the cloth to admire his handiwork, “Don’t you recognize it?”

You almost felt bad for saying this but, “...No?” Sylus finally glanced up from his work to shoot you a look. A concerning one.

“Really? You had it on repeat all day, yesterday.” Horror dawned on you at the realization, “The chorus has been stuck in my head since morning…” And then a laugh sputtered from your lips. 

“Oh my god, that sounded nothing like it.” Sylus glared and returned his focus to his pistol with what you could only describe as a pout. 

“What a picky kitten.” You bit your lip to stop the smile threatening to break loose. He was a god awful singer, but the room felt emptier without his noise. Gently, you padded over to where he sat, and invited yourself onto his lap. Despite his mood, a hand wrapped around your waist without hesitation.

“Sing it again.” Sylus’ hold on you tightened, “I think I like your version better.” A soft chuckle left him, and quietly, he hummed once more.

—♡ Rafayel

Rafayel taps. All. The. Time. Taps his legs, hands, pens, pencils, anything and everything within reach. And he’ll deny the hell out of it when you ask him to stop. “I wasn’t doing anything,” The candies on his phone screen lit up and exploded with color as he scored another combo. Too engrossed in his phone to realize the arm slung around your shoulders was still tapping you. You leaned into him with a huff.

“You’re doing it now.”

Rafayel gave you a sidelong glance, frowning, “I dunno what you’re talking about, cutie.” You suddenly captured his hand to still it, and Rafayel gave you the most scandalized look, “If you wanna hold it that badly, I’m not stopping you.”

“You’re not even aware you’re doing it,” You blinked incredulously, “Are you?”

Rafayel threw his head back and groaned dramatically, “Doing whaaat?” Then he lifted his head to press his forehead against yours and huffed, “Is this your way of telling me to get off my phone?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You look like a fish up close like this.” Rafayel pulled away to roll his eyes and clicked his phone off.

“Alright, fine, you have my attention.” Then he began tapping his foot, “You know, that’s a little offensive to say to a Lemurian. You could get cancelled for that.”

Your hand drifted to his bouncing knee, and you watched as both your hand and his leg now jumped up and down. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?!”

—♡ Xavier

Xavier is always chewing on something, and it is almost always never gum. It’ll be something random, like a straw from a drink he’d long since finished. The strings of his hoodie, a toothpick. Once, it was a plastic tie. He reminded you of a teething puppy; he’d probably chew on wires if you left him alone long enough. Today, though, his chew toy of choice looked a lot like…

“Xavier, is that my pen?” 

He blinked, eyes floating from his comic book to your frown, “Yours…?” His jaw froze mid-chew. 

“Yeah,” You scooted closer on the couch, “the one from my desk at work.” 

A blush crept along his cheekbones, but he didn’t drop the pen like you expected him to, “...Are you sure?”

Your eyes fell to the pen trapped in the corner of his mouth, “The one with little stars on it? Yeah, that’s mine. I thought I lost it at work, why do you have it?”

The comic book shifted in his hands, “I found it, that’s why.” This explanation would be more convincing if he hadn’t shifted his gaze sideways. His blunt fingernails picked nervously at the corner of his book, curling the edges.

“Xavier,”

“Okay, I borrowed it.” You bit back a chuckle, and he guiltily removed the pen from his mouth. It shined with his spit, and the cap bore teeth marks, “You can have it back.”

You couldn’t hide your grimace fast enough, “...Actually, you can keep it.” Xavier merely blinked before bringing the tip back to his mouth. Then a smile curved the corner of his lips.

“My pen now, hm?”

[lovetei]

Things that the citizens of the Devildom witnessed that will prove that this Human have the characters at their beck and call

Versions: The Brothers, Side characters

Warnings: Gender neutral pronouns for MC, Cussing, Slight yandere themes (Belphegor, Asmodeus)

Links: Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------

LUCIFER

This demon likes sticking to rules

Running on hallways? Detention

Eating during class? Detention

Not paying attention to class? Detention

No one is safe...

Except for one person.

The cafeteria if filled with loud noises, your voice shouting profanities to another demon specifically.

Everyone listening to the argument feels like they're stomach is about to burst out of nervousness because "What if Lucifer randomly comes in and put all of us is detention because we just stood by and didn't do anything to stop the fight?!"

And he did.

But what surprised them is that he didn't shout or anything, he just stood there for a few second and scanned the crowd looking for one of his brothers.

Spotted Mammon and came close to him before whispering something among themselves.

And then he just stood there

Doing nothing

As if it's just fucking okay to let a human, the exchange student at that, to scream and curse a demon because he won't cooperate into this project.

And when the demon started cursing back at you, the rules are suddenly so strict as if cussing will cause the end of the 8 rings of hell.

The demon is sent to detention, removed from the group, suspended, and many more.

And who knows? Maybe you pulled just a few strings to have that demon expelled.

But what the citizens sure know is that they never saw anyone again after talking to MC like that.

MAMMON

It was cute

Mammon would do anything for you, no matter how big or small it is.

One day, Mammon was spotted running around the halls of RAD.

Looking like he's getting chased by Lucifer, again.

But surprisingly, he's not.

He's just running around the school fetching your fan, notebooks, bag, pens, water or some snacks.

One time, you two were put in a group for this project and were talking about it with your other group mates.

Then you hit him with a "Mammon, I left my notebook on my desk in the potions class, can you fetch it for me?"

With just a blink of an eye, Mammon who was leaning on your shoulder just a few minutes ago is gone.

And with another blink of an eye he's there again with your notebook on his hands then he's back to leaning on your shoulder again as if he didn't just go to the other side of the school for a notebook.

LEVIATHAN

He's introverted

He won't go out his room if it's just for some lame party

I also headcanons for him to be the most unseen brother

Or like him having the smallest amount of photo and information online because he just won't go out.

Yeah, he won't go out if it's just some small, lame party but if Diavolo hosts it, what exactly can he do?

"Do you think the avatar of envy will attend this party?"

"Ha! No way... Lord Leviathan won't attend small parties or gatherings like these unless Lord Diavolo hosts it himself."

"Lord Leviathan really has a high standard when it comes to gatherings..."

And then poof

He's there

Beside you

A happy go lucky sheep beside a gloomy snake

What a match

And if you ask him why he would attend such gatherings when it's totally not even his style he would just go like "MC."

"What can I do? MC really wants to see the fireworks display."

"MC wants me to escort them."

So they got the hint on how to make Levi attend gatherings, either have Diavolo host it or invite MC too.

SATAN

He's angry

But not angry enough to yell when MC is around

Man's can go from 👹 to ☺️ real quick as soon as he felt MC's prescense

He doesn't know why too, but whenever he yell while you're around he thinks he'll fall out of favor

"WELL MAYBE IF YOU'RE SO PERFECT THEN WHY DON'T YOU GO AROUND WHILE YOU HAVE YOUR HEAD FAR UP YOUR ASS- Oh, Hi MC? How are you?"

He'll talk so sweet in front you and then when you turn around you can see some veins popping out of his neck and forehead.

And if he can't really handle it and went berserk in your prescense another scary yet amazing thing you can is to put your hand on his body.

Shoulder, head, neck, wrist, arm, wherever it is.

Just pat him or link your arms with him and he will start to calm down.

ASMODEUS

People headcanon him to like it when you're obsessed with him but I think he's more obsessed to you.

Like he's down bad

You can do anything and he'll literally fawn all over it

"Look at the way they run their hands through their hair!"

"Look at how they work!"

"The way they hold that fork is so graceful~"

Literally, you're the only person that comes to his mind when someone said pretty

Except for himself of course

But I swear, whenever someone caught him staring at you the atmosphere gets so thick

You don't even know why but the atmosphere is heavy and the air suddenly smells so sweet

And those heart in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate

Yeah, you have this man worshipping you alongside himself

BEELZEBUB

Other than the fact that he's actually willing to share his food with you

He's willing to help you in any physical works

Like lifting up things, carrying your stuffs and sometimes even running errands for you

I mean, he actually doesn't do it a lot because Lucifer actually asks Mammon for this stuff because the things Lucifer needs to be done is a little...

Shady?

And he doesn't want to taint Beel's innocence.

So now since you're already a part of the student council when Lucifer needs to have something important finished but it requires physical work.

You and Beel will be partnered

And he doesn't have anything against it either

He likes it so much when you command him to do something actually

I mean, he's tall and buff but Lucifer won't ask him to do anything that includes hard labor except taking care of Belphegor

So you actually helping him make use of all those muscles made him feel a tinge of happiness

He feels like he's actually of use :)

BELPHEGOR

This little brat

He would kill for you and he means it

He's not scared to spill blood on broad daylight as long as it's for you

Someone bothered you? Dead

Oh this person annoyed you? Taken care of

Aw~ He told you you're cute and asked you out on a date? That's sweet! Dead.

He's just like that

He won't tolerate anyone who dared disrespect you

And Lucifer won't even put a stop into this

"I mean, Devildom is quite overpopulated and we don't want anyone disrespecting Lord Diavolo's plan on bringing the three realms together now." Is what he reasons everytime.

Oh, he also wakes up on command as long as it's you.

Lucifer and his brothers could be shaking him like he's dead and he won't even bother to open his eyes

But if you just pulled a "Belphie? Good morning..." Oh dear, he's wide awake and clinging to you.

[dark-moonlust]

Getting Pounded by Nagas PART 1

Pairing: Two nagas x human reader

Summary: it’s mating season for the nagas and you’re more than eager to satisfy your mates.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, naga smut, nagas have double 🍆🍆, double pen, tails penetration, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

Find the next parts of the series here.

The jungle was alive with the energy until the sounds of your naga mates turned it eerily quiet. Their frantic calls for mating rang out, the insects and birds turning silent. You heard them from where you were resting safely in your nest and soon you followed the sound of hissing and rustling leaves. Your mates had arrived. They had left to hunt and bring you food but the rut must have hit them at full force forcing them to return to you.

They entered the hut, closing the wooden door and hiding the soft glow of the moon. Thorne and Ragnor. Your nagas were handsome, their serpentine forms gliding closer to you. Their upper bodies were muscular, their shoulders broad, their stomachs bulging with muscles. They had striking amber eyes that glowed with predatory hunger. Their lower halves were long, powerful tails that coiled around you and made you feel protected.

Drawn by an irresistible desire to satisfy your mates, you urged them to come to you. You sat back on the bed and they circled you, their strong hands removing your loincloth—the only clothing you wore. Their tails wrapped around you, opening your legs wide to expose your slick pussy.

Your first naga mate, Thorne his eyes a deep gold, his scales green, started licking your breasts. Your other mate, Ragnor his eyes as light as the sun, his body red, bent down to claim your lips. They awakened your body with intimate touches and kisses, growling and hissing softly.

“Our mate,” Thorne said, forked tongue lapping around a hard nipple. “So eager to please.”

Ragnor hummed and let the tip of his tail brush lightly over your clit. “We will mate you, sweet mate,” he murmured. “It is time to plant our seed inside your little cunny. But first, we shall prepare you. Make you shake and cry in ecstasy.”

“Yes… hmnn please, yes,” you moaned in between kisses while a long tongue nudged in your throat.

Another tail came to prod the tiny rosebud of your ass hole. You heard the soft slurp of oil, felt human hands cupping your mound and fingering your ass. You gasped when both tails slowly entered you, surging deep in your pussy and ass. The tails— twice bigger than a human cock— stretched you, prepared you for their inhuman dicks.

The naga feeding from your mouth reached down to play with your clit while your other mate suckled your tits and whispered how good you were, how pretty your tiny holes looked around their tails. You panted as their tails pistoned back and forth in fluid movements. You climaxed on the spot, crying out while they looked at you entranced and praised you proudly.

“Good mate,” Ragnor drawled. “Now you give us this sweet little mouth. Add then we’ll fuck you. All night.”

With their tails still buried inside you, your mates helped you kneel before them so you could pleasure them. You grasped Ragnor's hips, your tongue flicking out to tease the slit that protected his dicks. With persistent licks, both shafts sprung up. You licked one cock while pumping the other. They were naturally slick with sweet lubricant. You heard a loud growl, and felt your mate grab a fistful of your hair as he undulated his torso and forced both cocks into your mouth.

Your other mate, Thorne, kneeled behind you, his strong hands cupping your breasts and running circles around your sensitive nipples. They kept up with the praise, telling you how good you felt around their tails, how pretty you’d look carrying their seed and what a good mother you’d be.

They switched places, and you started suckling Thorne’s cocks that had already emerged from his protective slit. You licked the fat tips that leaked with pre-cum and ran your tongue over the textured base. Impatient, he nudged deep inside your throat, both cocks stretching your mouth full. You worked hard, slurping their dicks while their tails claimed your holes, your body jerking back and forth, tits bouncing.

Pleasure became too much to handle. You came, gurgling around the twin cocks in your mouth, tails slipping in and out of your holes, your juices trickling down your thighs. The cocks finally left your mouth, a trail saliva trickling down your chin. Your mates licked it off, taking turns kissing your mouth.

Rearranging their positions, Thorne settled down and pulled you on top of him, your breasts squeezed against his chiseled chest. Your other mate slithered behind you, spreading your asscheeks apart to watch their tails lodged deep inside of you.

Nodding to each other, the nagas pulled their tails out of you, their appendages slick with oil and your juices. Then it was time to take four cocks. Slowly, two dicks thrust upwards, filling your pussy to the hilt. From behind, Ragnor's double shafts slipped past your now gaping asshole, reaching deep in your guts. Slotted together, the nagas gave you a few moments to adjust to the impossible stretch and depth.

“Alright, little one?” the mate behind you asked, kissing your nape.

“Mmnnn—yes, move, pl—ease!"

You whined when they finally began to fuck you. Two huge cocks owned your pussy, while two more claimed your ass. Your holes were stretched around the thick shafts, more wetness dripping down your thighs and all over their scaly bodies. Your belly was swollen, rounded with the evidence of your mating.

Thorn's hands grasped your waist as he helped you move and ride their dicks. A forked tongue licked across your neck as Ragnor fingered your clit, stroking and teasing in time with their thrusts. The two nagas worked in perfect harmony, their bodies slithering and leaving you breathless. They never left you unfilled. The pleasure was intense, building and building with each thrust.

When you finally came, the explosion of their cum rocked your world. All four cocks pulsed and shot spurt after spurt of their seed, their feral hissings echoing through the jungle. Hot cum filled you up, your belly expanding further until you couldn’t hold back no longer. Your muscles seized and you clung to them, nails digging into their scaly bodies as you surrendered to ecstasy.

Crying out and sobbing in pleasure, you collapsed on your mate’s chest. He rubbed your cheeks and kissed your dry lips softly.

Once again, your mates changed positions.

Their cocks left you, your cunt and ass leaking buckets of naga cum. You winced but sighed softly when they guided you to lie down on your back, their long tails wrapping lovingly around your arms and legs. You turned your head and took two cocks into your mouth, while your other mate sat between your legs, thrusting into your pussy until he was balls-deep. Trapped between their strong bodies, you suckled and whimpered their names as they thrust inside you, spitroasting you in perfect symphony.

You tried to speak around a mouthful of dicks, tell them that your ass was left empty. But they quickly took care of it, both their tails squeezing inside and filling you deeply. You keened loudly while the nagas cupped your tits and rolled your swollen clit. You shattered and cried out, your orgasm intense and blinding. They followed right after, your stomach bulging with cum and the force of the cocks penetrating you.

“Such a good little mate for us,” Thorne said, his hands rubbing your belly protectively, feeling the gentle movements of the shafts and tails inside you.

“You have sated us, taken everything we had to give—our tails, our cocks and loads of our seed,” Ragnor praised. “You have honored us, mate.

"I love you," you whispered, your eyes closing.

“We love you more, little one,” they both said, whispering kisses on your skin.

Spent and satisfied, the nagas held you close and lulled you to sleep while keeping you full of their cum. It wouldn’t be wise to clean you yet. Their seed had to stay a while in order to take.

[moonjxsung]

Kinktober Day 27: Studio Sex

[kinktober masterlist.]

🔞 warning: smut below! mdni.

pairing: Bang Chan x reader

•

“Try it again, from the top this time.”

Chan lets out a heavy sigh, adjusting the black headphones he wears over his ears, as he listens for the beat. It chimes in the same way it has for the past hour you’ve been here, the downbeat of a drum echoing almost too loudly. The metronome starts up at the same time, clicking repeatedly like the second hands on the clock do. He glances at the time before he begins- this session was supposed to be over nearly 45 minutes ago. And then he sings into the microphone to the catchy tune, repeating the lyrics he knows by heart now, despite only having the sheet music for less than a day.

“Cut,” you say to him, chewing on the cap of your plastic ballpoint pen. “There’s something missing.”

“Well I’m not doing it again,” Chan huffs, cupping his hands around the headphones and removing them. He balances them on the music stand, pivoting around to gather his belongings, before exiting the recording booth once more.

“It sounds incomplete,” you voice. “We need something on the downbeat.”

“Not for the second chorus,” he replies frustratedly. “I told you a million times, that’s only for the first one.”

“But every time you pause, it sounds strange.”

“Then let it sound strange,” Chan finishes. A silence overtakes the room when he finishes speaking, his head hanging in shame you avert his gaze. He parts his lips to say something, before shaking his head, hoping you’ll break the silence first.

“You know,” you say to him quietly. “Of all the people I work with, you’re by far the most stubborn.”

“Yeah?” He scoffs, an irate expression in his tone. “Maybe we just have creative differences, then. I can’t say I’ve ever worked with someone as demanding as you.”

“Then find somebody else,” you reply, standing up from your swivel chair. “I’m done here.”

“Good.”

“Great!” You exclaim, gathering a stack of papers. “Good luck trying to find someone else with this late notice.”

Chan thinks it over momentarily, stopping to glance over his shoulder in your direction. He thinks of the song, and all the verses that remain unfinished, and about how he’ll be tasked with arranging the entirety of it in your absence. Which he could do- if he wasn’t already drowning in choreography lessons and meetings for the remainder of the month.

“Fine,” Chan says finally. “We can try it a different way. He cocks his head in the direction of the studio, gesturing to the door.

“Alright,” Chan voices plainly. “I’ll meet you in there.”

He’s the first to enter the recording booth again, slinging his bag off his shoulder and crossing his arms in front of the music stand that still houses a stack of sheet music. You trail in after him reluctantly, shutting the door behind you and doing your best to avert his gaze, before he begins to speak.

“Tell me what you suggest,” he says, shrugging in the direction of the stand. “And we can try that.”

“You need vocals on the downbeat,” you reply, pulling a ballpoint pen out from behind your ear and making a mark on the paper. “Something to lead into the chorus.”

Chan cocks his head as if in deep thought, and then he nods, thinking over your words briefly.

“I’ll get someone with a deeper voice to add something,” he says finally. “So that at least it’s different from my verse in the first chorus.”

He scribbles something out on the sheet music, making a note to add an alternate set of vocals where you’d suggested. And then he caps the ballpoint pen once more, before turning to you again.

“Anything else you want to suggest?” Chan queries, thumbing over the pen cap. His chest rises and falls with every annoyed breath he takes, trying his best not to make some snarky quip at you for keeping him so long.

“That’s it,” you say simply. “You’re free to go. I’m gonna stay here and get some work done.”

Chan observes as you assume a spot on one of the stools, peeling off your hoodie and slinging it over the music stand. You remain in just a thin white tank top, shuffling through your bag for your laptop, as he stays standing behind you.

“You’re… gonna stay here?” Chan asks, swallowing a lump in his throat. He can’t seem to avert his gaze from your top, his eyes scanning your chest, as you balance in the crook of your elbow.

“Yeah,” you reply, giving him a confused look. “I always stay after hours.”

“I could bring you dinner,” he blurts out suddenly, earning another confused look from you.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When he doesn’t reply, you look up to catch him staring at you a little too intently. His expression softens when he pulls up a stool next to you, letting out an exasperated sigh, before speaking.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Chan voices. “I know we have our creative differences. But I don’t mean to come off as such a jerk.”

“Yeah, well, you do. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Your gaze finally meets his, well aware of how close he’s sitting to you now. His gaze flickers from your eyes, down to your lips, and back up again, swallowing nervously as he looks for the words to say.

“Let me make it up to you,” Chan says in a voice just above a whisper. He doesn’t wait for a response this time, simply leaning in to gauge your reaction. And when you don’t back away from him, leaning in as though he might indulge you in a secret, or some heartfelt apology.

“How, exactly?” You ask, a hint of teasing in your tone. And you’re not sure what exactly you’re expecting- but it’s certainly a surprise when he leans in to press his lips against yours, indulging you in a sweet, yet desperate kiss, before pulling away once more.

“What was that?” You say instinctively, not taking your gaze off his.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry-”

“Do it again,” you interject, and Chan’s lips pull into a smirk when he leans in again to kiss you a second time, this time much rougher than the first. His hands snake down to your waist, pulling you closer to him, and then you pull away breathlessly, as Chan’s brows furrow in confusion.

“What is it?” He asks, trying to steady his ragged breathing.

“I don’t know. It’s just…what if somebody sees us?”

Realistically, you know nobody is typically around the studio after hours like this- except for you, and sometimes Chan. But he stands up anyway, making his way to the studio door and peering out the glass window.

“The door’s locked,” Chan says, nodding in the direction of the door across the room. He reaches out to lock the door to the recording booth, too. And then he turns to look at you again when you make your way over to stand beside him.

Chan doesn’t say anything when you lean back against the glass window, folding your arms behind your back while you wait for him to make another move. And then he presses a hand to the glass above your standing figure, leaning down to graze his lips over yours.

“See?” Chan questions in a voice just above a whisper. “Nobody’s around.”

And then he kisses you, his muscular stature towering over yours as you wrap two arms around him and pull him even closer to you. The thought crosses your mind briefly, that this is the last thing you would’ve expected from the evening, having started off on the wrong foot since his arrival today. But you’re not mad about the way he snakes his arms down to caress the small of your back. And you especially can’t protest when his hands find their way to your thighs, where he hoists you up into his arms with ease, your legs wrapping around his lower back as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

He ruts against you as his kisses turn rougher, the clear erection he sports beneath his sweatpants grazing your upper thighs with every slight movement. As he kisses you, he nibbles down the convex of your throat, leaving a generous trail of bruises as his heavy breaths swirl against your flesh. His labored breathing implies every desire to take you right here in the studio, and when his fingers trail along the waistband of his gray sweatpants, your heartbeat quickens in anticipation.

“Is this okay?” He asks, tugging his pants down to free his erection. His bulge pitches eagerly against his boxers as he awaits a reply, one hand trailing gently along the waistband of your shorts.

“Yes,” you breathe back, using one hand to skillfully unbutton your shorts and tug them down. He assists you in the process, letting them pool around your ankles, before looping one finger in the waistband of your panties to tug those down, too.

Once undressed, Chan frees his cock from his boxers, and you glance down briefly, your eyes widening at the sight. He’s much bigger than you’d anticipated, a bead of precum formed at his tip, as he wraps one hand around his base to stroke himself. His lips reattach to yours, stifled gasps making their way into your parted lips, as he guides himself against your entrance to position himself.

He doesn’t guide his cock inside just yet- instead, he rubs his moistened flesh along your aching clit in gentle back and forth motions, earning a fervent moan from you, as you wrap your legs tighter around him. He seems to hold his breath when he spreads your legs a little wider for him, and then he lets out a heavy groan when he finally pushes himself into you, slipping in with ease until he’s entirely bottomed out inside of you.

Your legs tremble when you feel the rhythmic pulse of his cock grazing your flesh, his lips pressing against yours desperately to stifle your almost pained gasps. And when your gasps quickly transition to moans, he begins to move finally, the pads of his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, as he thrusts into you with passionate movements.

“You like that?” Chan questions, earning an affirmative nod from you, whose lips part in overwhelming pleasure. Your nails dig into his back over his thin white t-shirt, and you can feel his broad back muscles tense beneath his shirt as he works himself in and out of you.

For a moment, all that fills the room are the sounds of his heavy grunts as he fucks you, and the fluid sounds of your tongues swirling against each other, a string of drool connecting to your lips when he pulls away momentarily. His fingers dip into your flesh deeper as he hoists you a little higher into his arms, the erotic sight of his protruding arm veins sending a chill down your spine when you take note of how effortlessly he carries you in his strong grasp.

An ebony strand of hair falls into his face, moistened by the beads of sweat that accumulate along his chiseled features, and you reach up to tuck it out of the way, placing a gentle kiss along his jawline.

“Is it okay if I admit I’ve been picturing you like this for the past hour?” Chan questions through labored breaths, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. His thrusts slow a little as he speaks, and you smile in response, kissing him softly before speaking.

“It’s only okay because I’ve been fantasizing about it, too.”

“Yeah?” Chan questions, wincing slightly when he feels his cock twitch inside of you. “What do you say we give this another try?”

You chuckle softly again, your walls contracting around his cock as he speaks, earning another groan from him.

“Give what a try?”

“Us,” Chan clarifies, nearing your parted lips to graze them gently with his own. “This. Let me take you out to dinner.”

“Why should I say yes?” You tease, and Chan practically interrupts you, a whimper escaping his lips.

“Because I’m about to finish inside of you,” he says, maintaining a serious expression on his face, as his thrusts pick up speed again.

You don’t reply this time, your eyebrows arched up in pleasure as he continues to fuck you, a loud squelching noise filling the studio space around you. It’s a lewd contrast to the repetitive tune that’s filled it for the past hour, and your nails dig into the shirt on his back when he grazes your cervix with every harsh thrust now, a string of cusses escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” he chants, his hands gripping the curves of your ass. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you so fucking good.”

You try to respond, practically unable to, as his lips find yours between his groans. And then he throws his head back in a blissful state of pleasure, his moans turning to whimpers as he fucks you through his orgasm, his hot load filling you and trickling down onto your upper thighs. The warmth of his cum triggers your own release, as your walls caress his girth, a series of pornographic moans filling the space when he begins to slow his thrusts.

It’s still several minutes before Chan finally pulls out of you again, as you both attempt to catch your breath, covered in a sheen layer of sweat and panting heavily. When he’s effectively pulled out again, he loosens his grasp of you, allowing you to find your balance on the carpeted floor, as you fish around for your clothes.

It’s silent as he dresses himself, pulling on his now stained sweatpants and adjusting the waistband of his cum-stained boxers. And then he chuckles lightly, before speaking again.

“So what do you say?” Chan asks, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“About what?”

“About this,” he clarifies again. “Let me take you out to dinner.”

You begin to say something, but then you don’t, simply dressing yourself fully and reaching for your bag again. Chan’s heartbeat quickens in his chest when he comes to the realization that you appear to be exiting the studio, turning around to face him again, a small smile on your face.

“You know,” you say to him, rolling your eyes sarcastically. “If there’s one thing I’m happy you’re stubborn about, it’s this.”

His lips pull into a satisfied smile, fidgeting with the string on his sweatpants, as he ponders a response.

“Get your song done,” you tell him, gesturing to the sheet music on the stand still. “And I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner.”

*

[zooone]

" OH, SATORU ?! "

in which ?! - gojo doesnt show up to an extremely important meeting, and you find him passed out on his desk. poor guy.

words ?! - 2.2k

warnings and content ?! - swearing, teacher!reader, gojo is pathetic, reader hates gojo in the beginning but she takes care of him after 🙂‍↕️

an ?! - someone said gojo wants to be a sugar baby cuz he just wants to be taken care of for once and i went insane. also requests r open so plz send some!!

masterlist ?!

satoru gojo,

satoru fucking gojo,

of course he wouldn't show up to the meeting that she was pestering him about for days. of course he wouldn't show up to the meeting that she stressed was probably the most important hour or two of his life. of course he would leave the seat next to her empty and completely embarrass her.

she made it extremely clear to him, even going so far as to make sure he didn't have any missions in that time slot. but even with the the reminders and the sticky notes she left on his desk, he still somehow managed to be a no-show.

"satoru, don't forget about the meeting in two days!"

"i'll be there, don't worry" a fucking lie now, "you gotta stop worrying so much."

her immediate thought was that he assumed the meeting was below him. that the almighty satoru gojo was just far too important for mandatory meetings. she was seething in her chair thinking of all the excuses satoru gojo could possibly make, and how she could argue about each and every one of them. throughout the meeting, she scribbled a few into her notebook, fingertips turning to a near white as she gripped her pen with such hatred.

and as she lurched herself through the door, bag nearly falling off her shoulders, she would stomp down the hallway. her fists clenched and her shoulders to her earlobes.

as she spotted his classroom, she noticed that his classroom's lights were still on. and a million other thoughts fueled her angered mind, making her eyebrows clench. he skipped on a crucial meeting just to hang out in his classroom?

clicks and clacks of her heels echoed throughout, and she hoped satoru could hear it as a warning.

satoru gojo, however, could not hear it,

as he was face down against his desk, drool dripping onto the wood. his blindfold was halfway off, making for a nice barrier between the hard desk and his forehead. a pen laid between his fingers, along with the papers under him.

"satoru! you're-" she yelled, before stumbling back a bit and covering her mouth. she gazed her eyes upon his sleeping figure (half surprised that he was a being who was able to sleep), and she sighed softly. "satoru?"

more clicks of her heels as she walked in front of his desk, examining the full scene. he was in the middle of lesson planning, his messy chicken scratch all over a spare piece of paper. he was practically the only one who could understand his notes. but he preferred it that way. it felt more personal.

although his snowy hair covered his face, she could see the tips of his ears as they were a slight reddish tone. and as if on instinct, she sighed out a soft, "oh satoru."

her eyebrows furrowed even more now, however not due to anger but due to pity. she frowned, looking around the room. crumpled up balls of paper scattered around the classroom, of course accompanied by unsharpened pencils and erasers with poked holes in them.

on satoru's desk was a small schedule or to-do list, and it looked like he had to report a million different missions. he's been on so many lately with the recent influx of curses, and it didn't register in her head how tiring it must've been. after all, satoru came to work everyday with a smile on his face and a joke on his lips. he was always so happy. this was a completely different side of him. it made her frown.

she decided she would help, starting with picking up miscellaneous items from the ground. her heels had been removed at this point in order to keep the noise to a minimum.

but the plan was ruined,

the moment she got up from practically crawling on the floor, her head clashed with a nearby desk. it caused a loud thud to echo around the classroom, followed by her faint "ouch."

"hey!" and satoru sprung his head up, blindfold covering one eye and spit running down his chin. his voice was raw and raspy. it had a sort of weak undertone. but weak and gojo couldn't possibly be in the same sentence. "hey - put - putit down - i got- it-"

he was delirious.

"satoru - oh - go back to sleep -" she spoke, voice adjacent to that of a mother. it had the tenderness yet urgency that reminded satoru of his youth.

"y- y'can't tell me what to do!" his mouth barely opened as he laid back in his chair with his head thrown back. a soft groan escaped his dry lips.

"satoru-" she got up, one hand holding the painful sting on her head, the other reaching out for the man in front of her. "gosh, you're burning up, satoru -"

"no - no 'm not - im fine -" he tried to swat her hand away with a weak gesture, but ultimately it failed. his eyelids felt like they were too heavy, even for the strongest sorcerer of the modern day. "'m not sick-"

"you are," the corners of her mouth bent downwards. "i think you're overworking yourself."

his ivory lashes fluttered open slightly, squinting at the sudden light that met his cerulean eyes. "no- 'm just fine -"

"how much sleep have you been getting?" now she really sounded like a mom.

"ten hours!" satoru whined, trying to put his blindfold back on. "heheh. just kiddin'."

"satoru-"

"free hours. maybe. sorta." even his chuckle was raspy. a good chug of water would feel like heaven to him. "six eyes 're tellin' me you're worried. i - i told'ya ta stop worrying-"

even through a delirious fever and a couple hours of sleep, he was the one trying to put the spotlight on her. it made a sinking feeling in her stomach, one that made her bottom lip stick out.

"three hours is not good, satoru. especially with your technique and all -"

"i've got rct-" he whined, his arm resting over his blindfolded eyes. his pen was still in his hand, and a mere twitch would cause it to hit the floor. "im not in highschool anymore, 's okay - im- the strongest-"

she didn't want to argue back at an incoherent satoru, so she just continued to pick up items from the ground. but satoru, even with his blindfold and arm over his eyes, noticed her doing so.

"h-hey - hey, stop-" he pouted, a small cough following. "don't do that-"

"im just trying to help you, satoru." she gently spoke, like she was hushing a child. there was dust and gunk all over her fingertips. he definitely hadn't cleaned up in a while.

satoru nervously chuckled, using weak and shaky hands to unbutton his uniform. "heh, is it hot in here or 're you just happy to - see me?"

"that's- not how it goes," she scrunched her eyebrows at him, watching as he struggled to fiddle with his buttons. "let me help you."

she expected him go start whining and arguing again, but he didn't. without words, he let her slowly take care of the buttons of his uniform. the silence could be pierced with one of the dull pencils on the ground. his body heat radiated onto her fingertips, making her palms slightly sweaty.

by now, his blindfold was loose and falling off his face, and she could catch a glimpse of his feverish grin through her peripherals. thankfully, he had a thin tank top on underneath his uniform.

her touch stayed gentle as she removed the sleeves, her nails grazing upon his biceps. his laugh was small and whimpery. "hey, that tickles."

"s-sorry," she stammered, gulping down a bit of her saliva. his arms were hard as a rock, even when he was relaxed, and it didn't help that his skin was burning hot. literally, and figuratively. she noticed some faint, almost translucent hairs on his arm.

"'s okay. its nice." he rasped, his head tilting slightly. "you're nice."

"thank you. i just want to help you." and his uniform top was finally off. he let out a groan as the colder air stung his searing skin, and she noticed his abs clenching underneath his thin tank top. "better now?"

"mhm," he responded, his delirious smirk turned into a toothy grin. "y'might get sick if - if you stay 'round me."

"that's okay." she let out a shallow breath. her top priority was him at the moment, so she wasn't thinking about the busy days ahead of her. "don't you have a spare room here?"

"the floor above." he wiped his lidded eyes, an idle pout still on his lips. she couldn't believe that the same man who always had color on his face and a honeyed voice was here now like this. she felt like she should've seen the signs coming. "i shouldn't sleep i have - i have to lesson plan -"

"you're going to sleep, satoru." she said sternly, yet with a soft edge to her tone. "c'mon, get up."

"ugh, don't t-tell me what ta do-" he groaned, but he still stood up. his tall figure wobbled as he felt his blood rush. his joints fell weak, like he wasn't supposed to be even standing up. he collapsed against her, body weight and heat pressing up against her.

she was strong, there was no denying how she fought during missions, but him falling onto her caught her off guard. he sandwiched her between himself and the chalkboard, exerting a yelp from her throat.

"woah, i got you -" she grunted, pushing him upright. "i got you, satoru."

"'m tired." was all he could muster from his lips. "so tired."

"i know, i know, its okay." she whispered. he was more straightened out now, but he still leaned slightly towards her. she put his arm around her shoulder to help him walk adequately. "we're gonna take you to your room, okay?"

he hummed a response, eyes drooping again. his feet were practically dragging behind them, but she was able to guide him properly through the hallway.

"careful, we're turning," she would warn everytime there was an abrupt shift in the hallway. and he would just groan softly to show that he was still alive.

by now, she was sweating. the exertion of his warm skin rubbing up against hers made such a friction, not to mention the fact that she was basically carrying the taller man. but it felt good. it felt right.

once they reached his room, she fumbled around his pockets to get his keys. he groaned low in his chest, almost sounding like a purrr, as he felt her touch through his pants.

she recognized the layout to be similar to the student dorms, and she was able to locate his bedroom easily. of course, not without examining his place. the walls were surprisingly bare for his colorful personality. the big fake plant in the corner was the only noticeable thing about the whole living room. however, it was too dim to see.

she set him down onto his bed (and of course, his sheets were blue) and laid his soft blanket on top of him. he looked like he went back to sleep within two seconds, but as she was halfway through his doorway, he heard him and his blanket stir.

“stay,” he whispered over the decently loud ac. but she could still hear the desperation in his voice.

“oh,” she turned around, seeing his blue eyes barely open from underneath snowy lashes. “i was gonna go back to your classroom to clean up more-”

“stay, please.”

she let out a shallow sigh through downturned lips. she stared at the strongest sorcerer as he scooted over in his bed, allowing her room to lay. her heart stung a little bit at the sight, the dryness in her throat just adding to the sensations she felt.

“i have spare clothes you can borrow,” he frowned, lazily gesturing to his large closet. “they’re comfy.”

it was clear he was trying to use anything to convince her to stay, despite him being worried about her health. even if it was selfishly, he just wanted her near.

a small smile laid on his chapped lips when she went into his closet, picking out a t-shirt of his and going into the bathroom. through the white door, he could hear her softly humming to herself, and it felt like a lullaby to his reddened ears.

his gaze softened when he saw her, despite the piercing bathroom light. she just looked so beautiful. he knew that, of course, he’s known ever since they first met. but when she had her hair up in a bun and his shirt draped over her shoulders, she looked like a goddess. he would’ve said so even without his feverish state. she was just so perfect to him.

she walked over to the other side of his bed, flopping herself down. she didn’t realize how much her muscles ached until her body met the soft mattress. all of their surroundings smelled like him, a minty sort of scent flooding her nose. he was about to doze off again, back flattened against his sheets, but she scooted over and hugged him. the blanket plus his body heat was enough to make her start sweating again, but she still wiggled up against him. her fingers were idly tracing shapes on his chest while she continued to hum.

“thank you,” he whispered, voice crackling so much she nearly missed his words. he snaked his large hand to her back, pulling her impossibly close. it felt so intimate that small tears began to prod behind his eyelids.

“you’re welcome, satoru.” she responded, her tone still gentle. “goodnight.”

8.9.24

masterlist ?!

[phyrestartr]

If We Had Lived (Divine Favour) | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader

W/C: 3k #SFW, fluff, mentions of past abuse, heian sukuna, typical kitsune shapeshifting, jp mythology, morally grey reader, DRABBLE

tags: @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah @memedealer-exe @f0th3rr @boretheral @cicithemess @paastaboi @someone0vx

--

“Sit still.”

“I'm sitting fucking still, fox.”

Sukuna did not sit still. He shifted and huffed, not unlike an annoyed, restless bull locked up in a pen–only, he was far from being in a pen and could leave whenever he so wished. 

Yet, he stayed. He endured the torture you, his prized possession, put him through for the sake of making good impressions or whatever. But the harvest festival was hardly a big deal–the last time the king was bestowed a gift of any value was when he found himself the owner of a beautifully annoying fox that hid in his garden for a fucking eternity. A prize like that was unlikely to be given again. What else could possibly excite the man who had everything?

Your tails swished behind you dramatically as you shifted on your knees, tilting your head to look over the work you'd done with cleaning and manicuring his nails and hands. Thankfully, you left callouses in place. Not that he thought you'd be so cruel as to remove them, but you certainly had the ability to, considering how soft your own hands were. 

“How much more?” Sukuna grumbled.

Your eyes flicked up to his for a moment before returning to your task. “I've hardly finished one hand.” 

The king scowled as a child might as you continued gently pushing at his cuticles with the slim, soft stick of an orange tree, carved specially for this occasion. Sure, he was the one who demanded you to turn your self-preening onto him, but still--

Your soft, warm touch cupped under his jaw and lifted his pouty gaze to meet yours. “You asked this of me,” you reminded. “If you've changed your mind, I've other tasks to attend to.” 

Sukuna’s lip twitched in an ugly, childish snarl. “You'll stay here and finish your job.” 

“Very well.” You leaned up toward him and kissed the spot between his brows before sitting again. But Sukuna followed you, bowing his head to chase a proper kiss that you gave freely, the kind spirit you were. “Then you will have to sit still.” 

“Tch.” But he obliged to the best of his abilities. “Already gonna have to sit still for hours while those damn peasants show up and dump scraps at my feet,” he sighed, pulling up a knee and resting an elbow on it. 

“My, a kingly thing is complaining about fealty?” You wondered, sarcastic yet cripplingly honest. “While I understand your unwillingness to do anything but fight and kill, you must remind those beneath you of your status.” 

Sukuna scoffed. “Yeah? Then why isn't my kyuubi doing just that?” 

“I am no king,” you said. “I am simply the servant of one, no? Given to him as a mere offering, yet kept alive for his amusement.” 

“Huh. Guess you know your place.” Sukuna shifted, and he noticed you pick up the pace, tending to him a bit quicker lest the restless beast lose his patience and leave with the job incomplete. He wouldn’t leave, not when he hungered for your attention and touch more than anything else the pathetic world could offer him–only something from the divine plane could satiate him. 

“Mh.” You raised his hand and pressed his knuckles to your lips, then against the soft plushness of your cheek. “My place is by my king’s side. It will forever remain that way.” 

–

You left his side. You left him, your pious saviour, your sworn king, your chosen mate, in favour of–what? Freedom? Adventure? Men? Women? What was it? 

Thunder echoed in Sukuna’s chest as he paced. He’d swept through towns, destroyed any houses you might have been sequestered in, searched vacant shrines and the like, but never caught a glimpse of your ebony tails nor your decorated kimono. It drove him mad. How had he not noticed? Did the harvest festivities really engulf his mind? Sure, they were more eventful this year, what with clansmen attempting revenge in the name of their fallen brethren, but it’d only been a week of problems–nothing challenging, nothing that really, truly required his full attention. And still–

“Sukuna-sama,” Uraume called, interrupting his buzzing thoughts. 

“What?” The king snapped, turning on his heel to face Uraume standing at his chamber door. “If this is about anything other than my fucking fox, then–”

“Please, come,” they said. “I believe I’ve found an explanation.” 

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. Uraume sounded calm, not that they ever sounded particularly frantic, but they seemed…happy, maybe? Some weird kind of content, perhaps. It wasn’t something Sukuna was used to seeing on their placid face, though it’d become more common ever since you entered their lives and made yourself at home. The frost sorcerer had a soft spot for you. Sukuna couldn’t blame them. 

“Pray tell what the fuck the explanation is,” Sukuna grumbled as he followed his subordinate, arms all crossed and tensed. 

“I’m certain I’ve found the whereabouts of your beloved.” Uraume slid open the door leading to the gardens in the back and walked on. “In the absence of (Name), I decided to tend to the gardens myself. In doing so, I found something quite peculiar–a hidden grove of sorts.” 

Sukuna’s fury morphed into prickling, fiery intrigue. “Bullshit. I’ve been all over this fucking garden with that fox. I know the ins and outs.”

“Then it would not surprise me if he indeed kept this a secret from you.” 

Sukuna grumbled. “He knows better.”

“I don’t believe it’d be intentional,” Uraume said, “but I believe his instincts may have influenced him to secure a quiet, safe place for the future.”

The king relaxed. Electricity sparked weakly in his fingertips first,then throughout the rest of his body when everything started falling into place–you wanted all eyes to be on him, you didn’t want anyone to look at you during the festival. Your cheeks had grown fuller, your body more plush, your desire to snuggle and snooze went through the roof. Could you have been–?

Uraume stepped toward a thicket of trees in the far corner of the garden–one that Sukuna indeed had never bothered with, considering it looked full of trees and foliage and definitely not a spot to meander on your shared morning walks–before ducking under thick branches and pushing aside flimsy bushes. 

Sukuna followed with a little more brute force, nearly ripping the pesky foliage out of the way and half-considering decimating the trees that dare whip him in the face with a cluster of leaves. But you’d probably get pissy if he did that. A pissy fox was fun, but also withheld sex, and that was a no-go for Sukuna these days, considering his concubines just weren’t doing it for him as of late. 

Sure enough, Uraume’s words rang true. The grove was small and cozy, letting in warm dappling sunlight while shielding itself from the prying eyes of the outside world. In the very corner of the garden and the evident centrepiece of the grove, stood an immense weeping willow, one with a formidable trunk and thick, gnarled branches reaching up to drape long curtains of green like cascading waterfalls around itself. Truly, it felt like a separate little world would be hidden in there, behind swaying vines and rustling leaves. 

“You gotta be shitting me,” Sukuna muttered, stepping past his right hand to push aside the foliage, revealing a black fox curled up in the hollowed trunk of that very tree. 

You didn’t stir when he approached. Something uneasy curled in Sukuna’s gut, but once he sat himself in front of the mouth to your little den, he spied the steady breathing shifting your small form, and calmed–until he saw something else wiggling against you, chirping and squeaking with pathetic, fragile voices. At first, he thought it was some sort of parasite sucking you of your lifeforce, but he realized too quickly that what he beheld were two, tiny kits, both covered in fluffy brown-black fur, both keenly aware of the presence of a curious new man sitting before them. 

Sukuna tensed when they approached him. Their chubby bellies knocked their weak, stubby legs off balance, but they persevered best they could, bumbling their way through trampled leaves and grass, and finally reaching the crossed legs of the king. Tiny paws papped at his pant legs before they hazarded climbing the formidable mountain before them And despite Sukuna’s hesitation, he hastily held their butts before they fell off of him like the stupid, dumb babies they were. They were his stupid, dumb babies, after all. Best to take care of them. 

“It appears he went somewhere quiet to nest,” Uraume hummed, sounding far too pleased as they watched the king handle fox kits. “Perhaps the festival was too stressful.”

“Tch. Could’ve shot the runts out inside,” Sukuna mumbled, half-heartedly annoyed. “Coulda said somethin’.” 

“He could have,” Uraume agreed, an air of ‘but what’s done is done’ clinging to their words. 

Sukuna sighed. “What a pain in the ass.” His eyes flicked to you again. He expected you to wake up, to snap at him like the feral thing you were. He expected you to calm after recognizing him. Maybe he expected you to curl up in his lap, too. Or did he just want that?

But you stayed sleeping. Content and safe under the shelter of your lover and the stalwart embrace of a weeping willow. Perhaps it was thanking you for your kind care with the way it soothed your soul and kept you hidden away. Sukuna wouldn't doubt it for a second. The garden acted differently ever since you claimed it as your own. 

“Shall we take them back?” Uraume asked.

The king thought for a long moment, sifting through selfish desires and rational decisions before coming to his conclusion: “Leave ‘em. He'll probably throw a damn fit if we interfere. You know how gods are–annoying and irrational as hell when they don't get their way.”

His subordinate smiled. “Very well.”

–

Winter’s first frost came, and you returned to his side. 

You woke him with a classic move–standing on his chest and staring at him expectantly until he woke up and gave you attention. You didn’t do it as much anymore, not ever since you found yourself in the midst of a thousand responsibilities and daily quests, but every once in a while, like when your lover would return from long journeys, you’d pester him endlessly for pets, scritches and kisses. 

But this time, once his heavy eyes opened, he not only saw you standing atop his chest, but a chubby pup caught in your maw, too. 

Sukuna blinked away his grogginess just as you gingerly placed the babe on his collarbone, tucking him underneath the king's chin. One of his large hands flew up to ensure the kit (his kit) didn't slip off when you let go and trotted away with purpose. 

“Fox,” Sukuna grumbled, displeased with your hasty retreat. Thankfully, you trotted back up to him a handful of moments later and placed a second ball of fluff on his chest before settling down beside him and watching. 

“Tch. Took you long enough,” the king huffed as he tried his damndest to be careful and gentle with the little ones. “Was about to drag your sorry ass in here myself.” 

I see. If you were so desperate for my company, you could have simply requested it, you countered. 

Sukuna sucked his teeth and huffed. “Like it woulda been that easy.” Nothing was that easy with you–and Sukuna liked it. If you gave in, if you tended to his every fleeting want and need, you'd be too boring, frankly. 

It is unlike you to not try. You shifted and wormed your way into his arms and half onto his chest, right beside the two snoozing kits you'd worked hard to bring up while Sukuna was off fighting, killing and maiming. But that was expected; servants and bedded beasts were to stay and make a home, weren't they? 

“Tch. I let you have your way for once and this is how you act?” Your partner admired your foxen features and traced his fingertips along your snout, between your eyes, to the top of your little skull before scritching behind your ears. You leaned into the touch, eyes falling closed with the meagerest offering of affection.

Shall I praise you and bow at your feet once I am able? You teased. 

“Bending over'll do the trick.” Sukuna smirked when you huffed. “How long you gotta stay as a shitty mutt anyway?” 

Until they wean. I'm not certain as to how long that will take.

“Not even a guess?” 

Perhaps another week or so. You turned your nose to the two small fluffs and groomed the tops of their heads. They're becoming more independent. More willing to explore. I take that as a good sign for their development. 

“Huh. Good.” A strange coil relaxed in Sukuna's chest, and he braved petting them with a single finger again. “‘N how long ‘til these two learn to play human?” 

Not for some time, but I will help them until they master it themselves. You nipped at Sukuna's hand as a third rose to come pester you. You should not pray for them to be human too soon. They will terrorize you. I have seen such chaos before. 

Sukuna grinned. “Ho? You forget who their father is?” Your sigh echoed in his mind, and his smile split wider. “I can handle anything.”

–

Kazuya and Genji took too much after you and your mischievous heritage. 

Too often Uraume would find them in baskets of produce, happily munching away like they were supposed to be in there. Other times, they'd be caught stealing shiny jewelry or knick knacks from the king's concubines and servants. They'd sometimes even take Sukuna's clothes and run amok with them, using them as toys or completely shredding them. 

You, he who had birthed and raised them, were swift when it came to correcting them. You were, of course, the prime example of a kitsune, and therefore found their treasure stashes, foretold of their destructive crimes, and knew when they'd be off to steal food. You were like them, once, after all. 

And maybe that's why you had a peculiar pep to your step. Once the boys found their devious personalities, you bothered lifting your tails from the floor. No longer did you let them drag and droop like limp noodles hanging from chopsticks. You seemed…prouder. Livelier. Perhaps being amongst your own gave you a sense of belonging, of hope. 

Belonging, huh? Tch, what a load of shit. Sukuna mused as he rested his cheek against his fist, lounging while he watched you wrangle the twins from his spot under a shady tree. Spring was here, and that meant the runts were now terrorizing the great outdoors. 

More accurately, they were following you around like two tiny shadows, too eager to waddle after you as you moved along the paths, sowing seeds and pruning withered leaves as you went. The tots picked up whatever your tending cast to the ground, and they held each thistle, leaf and twig close in tiny, pudgy hands like they were rabbit's feet. Strange little things.

He lost sight of you and the bumbling babies eventually, but your light chatter flitted through the brush and kept him company for a time. The sound of leaves crunching underfoot accompanied your walk as you came back around, closer and closer and–through the garden itself? Wait–

“RAH!” A little voice cried before a littler body launched onto Sukuna. 

“Ha?” The king quirked a brow and looked at the little thing biting and kicking at his arm like a spastic cat. “What the hell is this?” 

“He's trying to play with you,” you said as you wandered back into view, voice airy and light. “They wrestle.” 

Sukuna held his arm up to get a better look at the runt nibbling on him. “This is supposed to be playing? Damn thing's acting feral.” 

“Because he's young.” You settled down beside your lover, adjusting your robes and such to ensure they cascaded and pooled around you attractively. “One day, he'll ask you to teach him how to fight. How to use cursed techniques.” 

Sukuna's expression almost softened. “Huh. That so?” 

“Mh.” You smoothed Kazuya's hair back as he settled in your lap, choosing peace over violence, unlike Genji. “They are yours. I've no doubt they'll have the same hunger for strife and knowledge.” 

They are yours. The words nearly made Sukuna sick; they weren't his per sè, they were a result of his relentless attempts to tie you down and make you stay with him no matter the cost. They only shared half of his genetics, they didn't rule his every thought nor own half of his heart. That all belonged to you.

But then why did he feel…trepidatious? The way he once felt too long ago when he knew nothing of the world and met too many cruel hands from the moment he opened his eyes. Maybe because these little ones were that age, able to run around and cause problems where they ought to not. Maybe because messing with the wrong person might not end with them slaughtering he who had the audacity to harm them, but with their young lives being lost. 

Ah. That must have been it–the petulance of his own kind pissed Sukuna off to no end. The thought of extensions of himself being looked down on brought about creeping waves of disgust and distaste. Humans were the ones who thought themselves godly enough to kill Sukuna. Humans were the ones who thought themselves mighty enough to enslave and breed a divine beast. The little ones were destined to share humanity's ire, and it pissed him off. It really pissed him off.

“Yeah,” Sukuna decided, shaking his arm to test Genji's ability to cling onto him. “I'll show ‘em a thing or two. Can't have humans beating the shit outta some godlings just for fun.”

“Well, if one were to try, I'd kill them myself,” you cooed like it was the most romantic thing in the world. “Level their village, light the sky ablaze.” 

“Now you're speakin’ my language,” Sukuna said, grinning. 

[marsbutterfly]

Too Sweet

Summary: For the past few weeks, Hanji has locked themselves away in their office, away from prying eyes, including your own. But your heart can clearly tell when something is wrong with your beloved.

a/n: hey everyone <3 this story is entirely based on the cover art by my amazing artist friend @kylekoraki ! please show them some love and everyone say "thank you" to kyle for drawing this! <3 here's their twitter as well <3

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: canon setting, fem!reader, non-binary!hanji zoe, no warnings really, just some heavy kissing. not really beta read, we die like men <3

 ao3 | wattpad | cover by: @kylekoraki | wc: 4.2k

You knock on the door. Once, twice, thrice. No answer. A grunt escapes your lips and you roll your eyes, repeating the action. Once, twice, thrice. Nothing again. Now a frown takes the place of the smile that used to rest on your face, you know they are in there, you can hear the papers being shuffled around, the tapping of their pen, the shadow of their body as they pass by the door, even faintly the sound of the ice that clinks around their whiskey glass.

You raise your hand to knock again, but before you even have the chance, the door opens. Barely enough for any light to make it through but you see the faint silhouette of Hanji's lips pouting. "You know that when someone doesn't answer, it means they want to be left alone, right?" Their voice is low, almost as if they are making sure to remain quiet to not attract any more unnecessary attention.

"But... it's me.." you respond just as softly, a pout of your own forming, "I'm not like other people."

“y/n…” They begin, moving their glasses from the spot on their face towards the top of their head, pushing their bangs backward in the meantime. Their brown eyes stare at you for what feels like forever, their mind hiding behind an ocean of thoughts and an expression you can’t quite decipher this time around.

They want you to stay, to hold you in their arms as they sit here in the comforting silence of your presence, but instead, they shake their head, trying their best to remove any thoughts of what your warmth would do to them. A heavy sigh makes its way past their lips, the eyebags under their eyes more present than ever as they begin to talk again.

“Please, I’m fine,” they respond. What Hanji fails to realize is that their voice did a slight tremble, not noticeable to anyone else but you know them better than the palm of your own hand. They are the pure representation of your heart beating outside of your chest, so seeing them in such distress is enough to make you act against direct orders, consequences be damned.

“You are not,” you respond. Their office is a mess, their research papers scattered around with drawings and models of flying boats, new weapons, and ways to improve the Survey Corps all around. A thousand and one ideas, some connecting and some just scattered around the wind. 

The whiskey bottle that until a few weeks ago rested full to the brim on their bookshelf now finds itself on its last few sips, the curtains are drawn so no amount of light other than the small candles at the edge of their table can exist in the room and you even notice a few shards of broken glass, probably meaning that they have dropped a cup or two, either from exhaustion or from not being able to see in the dark.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” You ask, gently taking the whiskey glass out of their hand. You notice a small blush creeping its way onto their cheeks as their eyes pointedly avoid yours and, by these simple reactions, you can tell it has been a while, “You’re losing weight.”

They try to reach for the glass once more but you shake your head, pulling it further away. Even though they are stronger than you and could easily take it back if they wanted to, they don't. Instead, Hanji leans against their desk, crossing their arms in front of their chest as they let out a heavy sigh. They want to lie, to tell you they are fine, and pretend like nothing is wrong, but before a single false promise about their well-being can make its way past their lips, you speak up again.

“I can tell you haven’t been sleeping,” your voice is soothing, not an ounce of frustration or anger behind it, just plain worry. You take a step closer, fully prepared for another rejection but it doesn’t come this time around, though you still don’t dare take a deep breath until the moment your fingertips brush against their left cheek, just slightly beneath their eyepatch, “you look exhausted.”

“Now that’s just rude!” An exhausted chuckle escapes their lips as they nuzzle their face into your hand, their expression contorting from anguish to a somewhat relaxed one and it causes your heart to nearly stop for a second before between at three times the usual speed, you are convinced they can hear it from where they stand. “I’ll have you know that I look awesome.”

It’s your turn to chuckle, your worries melting away for simply a second before coming back at full force, knowing way too well that redirecting attention and humor have always been Hanji’s favorite ways of avoiding a serious conversation.

“Hanji…” You start, your tone of voice sounding just as exhausted and defeated as theirs. It drags a loud sigh out of their chest, but as their mouth opens to complain, you continue, a begging tone in your voice as your eyes fill with unwashed tears, “Please, just talk to me.”

That look is enough to cause a painful bang to shoot throughout their body, their heart dropping to their stomach with the knowledge that it is their fault that you look this way. So, without even realizing it, they are already taking a couple of steps forward, hands tightly grasping at your hips as they lean their forehead against yours.

“I’ve just been so busy,” they whisper, the broken tone in their voice creates a tight knot in your throat and the sensation only grows stronger as they continue to speak, “Paperwork, meetings, and any free time I have I go to the lab, trying to complete some old experiments I’ve had from years ago. Even if I try to sleep, I just… Lay there, staring at the ceiling, maybe getting two or three hours here and there.”

You sigh, your arms immediately wrapping around their neck as you pull them close. Their eyelashes bat against the skin of your neck as they close their eyes, a shaky breath escaping them as they inhale your scent, focusing on the way your body feels and smells.

At that moment, an idea hits you. Without disturbing the hug, you look around the messy room, quickly taking in the setting before noticing that, for once, their couch rests next to the window, uncluttered and undisturbed. 

Reluctantly, you pull away from them and the first thing you can hear is a grunt of disapproval. Once your eyes meet again, their pupils are so big, they could only be compared to a puppy dog that has just discovered steak for the first time, pleading, begging even, “Why’d you do that?”

Without an answer, your hand slides with theirs, fingers lacing and fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Their palm is slightly wet, though you can’t quite place if it is from the condensation from the whiskey glass they held earlier or if it is from nervous sweats. Regardless, all you can focus on is how warm their presence feels close to you.

You don’t speak, instead, you just guide their body towards the couch, their feet dragging behind you, “what are we doing?” They ask, their eyes already fighting to remain open in a combination of the exhaustion and the fuzzy feeling from being drunk, the comfort you bring them doesn’t help either. They are clearly forcing themselves to stay awake, wanting to spend all of this time with you instead of stubbornly trying to push you away.

“We are not doing anything,” you respond, taking a seat on the couch. Your free hand brushes against the spot next to you and they quickly catch onto what you are hinting, your words finally clicking in their head as they flash you a confused look, “You, on the other hand, are going to sleep for a while.”

Their eyes widen for a second as your words take them by surprise, a small groan of protest making its way past their chapped lips, “mmmmm, noo, I can’t… I have so much work that I need to get done… I don’t... Have time to sleep.”

Carefully, you bring your hand towards the back of their head, pulling the ponytail holder out of their hair to make sure they are more comfortable for the next step, which includes guiding their head down towards your thighs. It doesn’t take much effort nor does Hanji put up much of a fight, their body is completely exhausted after all.

“Mmmm,” they whine, their voice filled with a mixture of exhaustion and stubbornness, almost like a child who refuses to lay down for nap time, but once again, they don’t put up a fight, “damn it, how could I ever say no to you?”

“You can’t,” you chuckle, your fingers beginning to comb through the knots in their hair, detangling the strands, your nails gently scratching their scalp while you are at it, “I promise I will be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your words are soft, carrying so much love that it is almost impossible for Hanji not to melt on the spot. The warmth of your legs combined with the feeling of your fingers going through their hair is finally enough to relax their overly exhausted body, their eyes finally closing and you use your free hand to remove their glasses, hanging it up on the neckline of your shirt.

“Finnneeeee,” Hanji whines once more, turning their body over so their face is buried in your stomach, their slim body now curled into a small ball on the couch and you can’t help but smile at the sight, “but do not let me sleep for more than thirty minutes. An hour, tops.”

You lift your eyes slightly to take a look at the clock on the wall, a gift from Kiyomi to celebrate your relationship. Silently, you take note of the time and look back down at your beloved, a soft, whispered “okay” leaving your lips.

“I’m serious,” Their voice starts sounding more sluggish by the second, their mind already starting to drift off but they fight back sleep for a few extra minutes, just enough to finish the conversation between the two of you, their voice extremely drowsy, “I’ll be mad if you don’t wake me up.”

“I would not dream of doing such a thing,” you respond, unsure if they recognize the mischievous tone in your words or not, but truly hoping that, if they do, they are simply choosing to ignore it. Even so, the way you speak brings them so much comfort, a sense of peace they haven’t felt since becoming commander, “just sleep, my love. I’ll be here.”

The moment Hanji hears you whisper that promise, the certainty that you will be here when they wake up, it’s like a switch flips inside of their mind and they finally allow their body to relax against your touch. Much like a cat, they purr as you continue to run your fingers through their hair, unable to avoid the smile that is now stamped on their lips.

“Thank you, love you,” they whisper, their voice is barely audible and you almost miss it. You don’t even have time to respond before they are completely asleep, the weight of the countless sleepless days finally catching up with their body.

When the first hour passes, you look up from your book, your eyes landing on the clock before making their way down towards Hanji’s face. They look so peaceful, their breathing is so calm and even that it soothes your own worries away and it takes every ounce of your strength not to lay down and nap with them. 

The decision to let them continue their slumber is an easy one. Eventually, you notice a small smile that tugs the corner of their lips in their sleep and you can’t help but wonder and hope that they are dreaming of you. Nevertheless, your fingers continue to go through the strands of their hair, even if it makes flipping the pages of your book a bit difficult, you manage to find a solution by placing it down on the armrest of the couch before using your pinky and ring fingers to hold the object down while the remaining digits flip towards the next page.

Another hour goes by and you start to ponder if you should wake them up. Maybe letting them sleep for this long wasn’t such a good idea, especially since you know they have to return to their duties as commander of the Survey Corps, such as continuing their research and sketching plans for the flying boat. But you can see it in their expression, the small specs of the bubbly person they used to be finally showing back up on their features as they sleep, small reminders of the bright light that has saved you from darkness more times than you can count.

You gasp softly when Hanji stirs slightly in your lap, your heart clenching in your chest as you continue to look down at them, scared that you moved too much and it caused them to wake up. Their expression is still undisturbed, almost like a cat that has just found the warmest spot on the window sill and you catch yourself smiling at them. A silly, love-sick smile that only they can bring out of you.

As the third-hour rolls by and you are trying to convince yourself that it is time to wake them up, you hear a knock on the door and your entire body freezes. You find yourself torn by the two options:

1) Do you say something loudly enough for the person on the other side to hear and risk waking Hanji up in a stressful way before throwing them directly into a situation in which they need to be the Commander, and not the bubbly Hanji Zoe you once loved so dearly.

2) You silently hope that the soldier on the other side will either go away soon or open the door quietly. The couch, though it is by the window, still has a perfect view of the front door to their office, so the person would quickly notice the situation and you would be able to calmly wake Hanji at your own pace, without any negative or stressful interactions.

A second, more forceful knock comes and you notice Hanji slowly starting to shift on your lap. The annoyed expression on your face morphs into one of anger and, as the shadow on the door side moves to knock for a third time, you decide to throw a pillow at the surface.

The person stops midway with their movements before their hand slowly comes to rest on the knob, twisting it slightly as the door quietly swings open. In front of you stands a very nervous scout, one of the new recruits, who hasn’t even been able to choose a specialty yet. His hands are trembling and he nearly drops the stack of papers he holds in his grasp, eyes bugging out of his skull as he looks at you and the sleeping figure on your legs.

“P-paperwork… F-for the C-Commander…” His voice is quiet and trembling, almost as if he is stepping directly into a monster’s lair. You realize in this moment just how intimidating Hanji is in everyone else’s perspective but your own and you can’t help but smile. You nod and gesture your head towards their desk, placing your index finger in front of your lips.

“I-it’s from… Instructor S-Shadis,” he says in the quietest of whispers, but you could already tell. Keith Shadis’ ugly handwriting was something you could identify from a mile away if you had to, “r-reports about… T-the ranking c-ceremony.”

“Thank you,” you mouth the words softly, your fingers moving on Hanji’s hair. They look so small and calm, almost like a harmless kitten, a direct contrast to the authoritative figure that can command an entire room with just a single look in their eye.

The boy nods, his trembling legs making their way towards the wooden table and carefully placing the new stack of paper next to the old ones, trying his best to make sure it is neatly organized while desperately avoiding eye contact with you. He does a quick salute towards you before eagerly exiting the room and you can nearly hear his breath of relief once he is out of sight, outside the closed doors.

You shake your head before looking down at Hanji once more to see a smile on their face. You roll your eyes, “how long have you been awake for?”

The smile on their face grows bigger, their eyes opening slowly to look at you, still a blurry image from the lack of their glasses but still enough for their heart to beat slightly faster, “since the first knock.” Of course, you think to yourself, “How long was I asleep for?”

You look at the clock, and a part of you wants to lie, say it’s only been thirty minutes or so but when you look out the window, you realize the sun has already started to set, making it impossible for such a thing to be even remotely believable. You sigh again.

“Around three hours…” You respond in a sheepish voice, avoiding their gaze. Immediately, Hanji sits up, placing their glasses above the bridge of their nose and looking at the clock on the wall. Once they look back at you, you can see the slightly irritated expression on their face and you feel like you could just shrink and disappear under such a harsh gaze.

“y/n, you promised!” They blur out and you can tell it isn’t anger or irritation… It’s an intense pile of anxiety, hidden behind the harsh facade they attempt to put up. They’re scared that something went wrong in the period they have been sleeping, like the Survey Corps might have fallen apart and they were doing something so useless such as taking a nap. A single thought is going through their mind, those words they have been chanting like a mantra since the fateful day in Shiganshina.

Erwin Would Never.

You stand up a mere second after them, watching closely as their hands grip the edges of the desk and their head hangs low, hips tilted forward in a desperate attempt to hold themselves upright. It breaks your heart to see them like this and, no matter how much you agree with Erwin that Hanji should be the next Commander, you can’t forgive him for leaving such a massive responsibility on their shoulders.

So your arms wrap around their waist, your cheek finding a perfect spot in the area between their shoulder blades. You nuzzle your face against their vest, nearly purring as you do. The smell of Hanji’s skin, mixed with a little bit of sweat as a result of their nap awakens the butterflies in your stomach and the only thing able to bring you out of your thoughts is the broken sound of their voice.

“How long were you going to let me sleep for?” They whisper, a hint of desperation behind their tone and you notice they are shaking. You tighten your grip around them.

“For as long as you needed,” you respond and, at the sound of their quiet sob, your heart shatters. “You haven’t been eating or sleeping, you are drinking in the middle of the day and, well, you are pulling away from me.”

With a long sigh, they turn around, a defeated expression on their face, “Y/n, I’m a mess. I’ve always been a mess. I’m always overthinking things, I’m mean, I’m stubborn, please. I need to catch up on my work, it’s so much paperwork and it just keeps piling up…”

“Hanji, you’re spiraling,” you whisper, fingertips almost featherlike as they brush against their arm. You hope and pray and nearly fall to your knees begging that they will listen to your voice, that they will give you time to make your case and prove that they are so much more than anything they are thinking, but they continue.

“Erwin’s one mistake was making someone like me the commander,” they whisper in the most defeated tone you have ever heard. It’s like something in your mind snaps and you immediately grab a hold of their wrist, flipping them around before pressing your body against theirs on the table.

“Now you listen to me and you listen good,” your voice is stern in a way Hanji had never heard before, it’s filled with pain, heartache, and still so much love, “Erwin wouldn’t have made you Commander if he didn’t think you would be a perfect choice. And I agree.”

Hanji wants to protest, they want to contradict you but the desperate look in your eyes convinces them to remain silent. Instead, they focus all of their attention on your words, into the amount of effort it takes you not to break into tears as you listen to their self-deprecating words, the doubt in their mind. They focus on the way your lips move and how desperately they want to kiss you.

“You are the reason why we were able to eradicate titans outside the wall, you created the thunder spears that were enough to scare off the armored titan,” you continue, the trembling in your hands is so intense you can barely contain your grip on them but you don’t let go nevertheless, “Moblit sacrificed himself for you because he believed you could guide us towards the world outside the walls. Erwin entrusted the Survey Corps to you because you are the most brilliant person any of us has ever seen. Please, just… Tell me you at least believe me.”

They don’t respond, not because they don’t want to, but because their voice won’t come out. It’s as if their brain has lost connection with their vocal chords and all they can focus on is the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. 

So in one swift move, Hanji grabs a hold of your wrist and immediately switches places with you. You can’t help but yelp quietly, especially when you feel their hands grasping at the back of your thighs as they lift you. Your hands reach behind you, carefully assessing the area while trying not to mix any of their paperwork, but Hanji doesn’t have a single care in the world that isn’t you at this moment.

Their eyes hungrily stare at your lips and, with a silent nod of their head, you push away all the papers that were once so neatly organized on their desk. Once you are sitting down and your legs wrap around their waist, Hanji wastes no time in sealing their lips with yours, a delighted hum escaping your body once they do.

You wrap your arms around their neck, allowing your fingers to venture through the messy strands of their hair. Their fingers dig into your hips, strong enough to nearly leave a few bruises but neither of you care, the need you have for each other overwhelms any and every other one of your senses.

Their tongue slowly glides on your lower lip before they gently take it in between their teeth, pulling the skin towards them. After a few seconds, they let go and immediately begin to silently beg for entrance, using the tip of their tongue to nudge your lips apart and it doesn’t take you long to indulge.

They pull you closer to themselves, your bodies pressed together without a single inch of free space as they hold you, nearly afraid that you might disappear the second they loosen their grip. It’s the first time you have kissed in what feels like forever, even if it has been just a few weeks.

You can’t help but focus on the taste of whiskey in their mouth, it’s completely different from anything ever made inside the Walls. It nearly tastes “expensive”, for the lack of a better word. It’s been hours since they have last taken a sip and the flavor is still so vivid on their tongue. So much so that it nearly burns once your saliva begins mixing.

It’s only when the need for air becomes unbearable that the two of you pull away, a small string of saliva connecting your bodies. You run your tongue over your lip, breaking that connection and still getting one last taste of them. The sight causes a shiver to run down Hanji’s spine and they smile, gently placing their forehead against yours.

“I needed that,” they whisper, a smile stamped across their face and you nod, “I’m sorry for pushing you away, I’m just… Having a lot of big feelings that I couldn’t express but I have you now.”

“It’s okay, just don’t forget that I am here for and with you, okay?” You whisper back in a love-filled voice and they smile once more, nodding their head as their grip around you tightens ever so slightly, “You still taste like home.”

“Yeah? And what does that taste like?” They chuckle, nuzzling their nose against yours, enough that you can feel their glasses against your face.

“Like expensive whiskey,” you respond and Hanji laughs, the sound you’ve missed most these past few weeks and you are reminded yet again that home is whatever, wherever and whenever you are with them. No matter what.

[sunflowerwinds]

lunch | h.c

summary: you never questioned your sexuality until your bestfriend brittany begs you to come with her to a party where you run into a blue-eyed, shaggy haired girl. you weren’t so sure if being into men was even an option anymore. hazel only had one thing on her mind: you looked good enough to eat.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature content & language, friends w/ benefits trope, smut — lots of cunnilingus (r!receiving), public sex, hazel lowkey is falling in love (as are you), reader’s sexuality & body type is never really described so is open to all! :)

word count: 4.1K

a/n: thank you a MILLION to the anon who requested this. i’ve actually never written something so fast 🙌🏽 obviously it is inspired by lunch by billie eilish. thank you billie for dropping this gay ass song! <33

“Please, please, come with me.”

Brittany tugged on your oversized pajama tee as you continuously scribbled across the lined page of your notebook. You were trying to cram in for your English exam this coming up Monday and Brittany was begging for you to come with her to a big house party. You had nearly failed the last one so you were determined to make at least a high C on this next one.

She was standing behind you, letting out exasperated sighs and groans as you continued to stand your ground on staying at your dorm.

“Britt, I seriously can’t.”

“But it’s masquerade themed. Do you know how hot that would be to get with a stranger at a masquerade party?” Brittany groaned as she rested her forehead on yours. “You need this.”

You sighed when she added that last part. Ever since a jock from the football team led you on and got you trapped in a situationship for four months, Brittany has been persistent on the fact that you needed a fling: someone to help you move on and get ready for the next serious person in your life.

“Is anyone I know going to be there?” You hum as you continue to highlight a few more sections that you would be tested on.

Brittany rested her head on yours and can practically feel her grinning ear to ear.

“PJ, Josie, Stella, Isabel, and Hazel,” Brittany stated.

“Hypothetically,” you began and Brittany was squealing already, removing her body from yours to rummage through your closet. “If I go, will I be too hungover tomorrow to finish my notes for Monday?”

“Nope. I promise. I will keep an eye on you the entire time.” Brittany called over her shoulder as she pulled out a corset top that you had rarely worn since moving in. “You’ll be nearly sober.”

It was a deep green satin that made your boobs look amazing. You swore you’ve only worn it to a concert and a birthday dinner.

“Put this on with your matching skirt and get on your small heels with the straps, please. I will get ready too.”

Hesitantly setting your notebook and pens aside, you get up from your cushioned seat to get dressed. It took merely a few minutes to put on your matching outfit, putting on your mask that Brittany had purchased for you.

When you were looking at yourself in the mirror, you nodded in content. Brittany was right. It was time to just have some fun, let go.

Maybe you’ll meet someone.

You snort and shake your head to yourself.

Yeah, right. Frats were somehow worse than football players. No way were you meeting a guy there.

Within the first few seconds of walking through the door, you had greeted pretty much all of the girls except Stella and Hazel. PJ was the one to tell you that they were probably sticking their tongues down people's throats.

“You look stunning. This green on you. I can’t get enough.” Isabel was the first to gasp over you, spotting her bright eyes and beautiful hair a mile way.

You thanked her repeatedly over the loud music. Brittany stood next to you as she scanned the surrounding area for drinks. You stood next to Josie and Isabel who apologized about your situation with your ex-situationship.

Fuck, you hated that word. You were dating but the situationship made your skin crawl.

“It’s whatever guys, honestly,” you tell them, waving them off.

“Men are pieces of shit, man.” Josie patted your back weirdly before shuffling into her girlfriend's side.

You look between the two of them with a small smile, admiring how adorable they were. Isabel and Josie fit weirdly enough considering how different the two of them were. A tap to your shoulder threw you off guard in the midst of you daydreaming about when you were going to find someone like that.

You turn to face the person, stepping back a little when you don’t recognize the masked figure. They were kind of cute. They smiled at you about the open their mouths that is until you heard Josie greet them.

“Hi Hazel. Where’s that girl you were talking to? She was cute.” Isabel calls over your shoulder.

Oh shit. This was Hazel? Scientist bomb-maker Hazel? The more and more you peered into the eye cutout of the mask, you recognized those deep blue eyes of hers.

Has she always been this attractive? Her white button up shirt had the first two buttons left open, exposing the silver chains resting on her neckline. Her chest rising and falling from the drink she just downed.

She looked… good.

“She is in a very committed relationship with her two boyfriends.” Hazel told them, nodding curtly.

“Sounds like overkill but good for her, I guess,” PJ commented, eyes widening from behind her own lace mask.

The three of them gave soft ‘sorry’s’, smacking their lips before sipping on their drinks. Brittany had come back with her drink and yours, silently sliding it into your own and mouths to you: ‘Sprite and Vodka’.

Simple but a favorite.

“Wait, why are we saying ‘sorry’?” Brittany shouted, shifting her eyes from person to person in the huddle they’ve formed.

Everyone began to explain but you were just staring at Hazel. You had no idea what was going on in your brain but your eyes couldn’t pull away from her.

“I’m sorry about that girl,” you finally speak, hoping she hadn’t noticed you staring at her like a maniac.

“No, it’s fine. It was whatever.” Hazel shrugs and she seems legitimately fine.

That would’ve sent you into a spiral about how good your flirting skills were if it was a guy. You suppose someone who looks like her can easily move on to the next girl.

“You look… great. Really great. I like your, uh, mask.” You compliment her, pointing at the plain black mask on her face.

Why are you being so awkward? You’ve definitely talked to Hazel before. What’s so different about this time?

Her smile lines deepened as her eyes followed down from your feet to the lace on your mask. You suddenly felt hot around your neck under her gaze, the sound of the people blurring into the background of the music so that you could only focus on her.

“Thank you. You look beautiful. I’ve never seen this before.” Hazel eyed your corset top, taking a sip from her silver solo cup.

You take a long sip from your drink, feeling your mouth running dry.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t wear it often. I don’t go out much.”

“What?” Hazel leaned in closer so that her ear was closer to your mouth.

The songs had increased in volume to the point where you could feel it in your chest. You shake your head and lean into her to shout: “Do you want to go somewhere quieter? I don’t want to keep shouting all night.”

This Hazel did hear and she nodded, placing one hand on your lower back as she led you through the crowd. You sucked in a deep breath as you looked behind you to see Brittany staring you down with narrowed eyes but she didn’t seem upset, more… confused.

You wave your hand to show that you were fine before letting Hazel continue to lead your body down a hallway. You did have an oral speech that Monday you had to practice for so going somewhere quieter would just be more beneficial.

Once the two of you had been able to seclude yourselves in one of the fraternity brothers rooms, you let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m kind of starting to regret coming here,” you admit softly as you glance around at the very plain room.

“Really? Why?” Hazel questioned as she lingered near the door, watching you snoop through the strangers' knick-knacks he had on his desk.

“I have shit to study for but Britt begged me to come with her. Parties really aren’t that fun when I’m not drinking as much to distract myself,” you sigh, picking up a trophy of a gold baseball man.

Hazel pressed off of the door to find her place standing next to you. The muffled music rumbled the walls but she couldn't focus on that as much as she was admiring how amazing you looked tonight.

“Distract you from what?” Hazel hums, leaning into your side to peer at the knick-knacks with you.

You try not to tense under the feeling of her warm body pressing up against the side of your back. Why were you suddenly so nervous?

“Uh, guy that was a dick and didn’t know how to properly express his feelings and said he had to ‘focus on himself’. Men make me genuinely sick.” You express with a soft huff, plopping down onto the deep blue bed.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Hazel slowly sat down right next to you.

You shrug your shoulders, turning your head to be face to face with her. Her blue eyes were illuminating from the singular lamp that was turned on in the corner of the room. Your stomach turned at her intense eye contact.

“It’s fine. Not your fault, Hazel.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you deserve to be treated like that. Someone as beautiful and sweet as you doesn’t deserve to be led on by some douchebag guy.” Hazel muttered, leaning in closer to you.

You could feel her warm breath that had a lingering scent of a mix of liquors. Every single fiber in your body craved the taste of her lips. You weren’t even sure if you were completely into women but you knew that right here and right now, you wanted Hazel to kiss you.

“Then what do I deserve?” You whisper, eyes flickering down to her pink lips.

“If you want me to show you, all you can do is ask, pretty girl,” Hazel glances down at your lips as well, her ego shooting through the roof at how very obviously eager you were.

You lick your lips before whispering with a hint of whining: “Show me.”

Hazel pressed her lips onto yours, cupping both sides of your face. You gasped slightly but almost immediately fell into a comfortable rhythm chasing her lips. Your hands ghosted over her neckline, not knowing where to put your hands. You were overthinking it just because Hazel was a girl.

It was so much different compared to kissing a man. Hazel’s hands were so gentle on your face, caressing you in a sensual yet comforting manner. Fuck, you couldn’t believe how wet you were just from her kissing you. You crossed your thighs together to try and relieve that feeling but it only grew.

Her tongue swiped over your bottom lip, teasing to get into your mouth. You allowed her tongue in as her thumb caressed the underside of your jaw. The whimper that left your mouth was borderline pornographic.

“Lay back for me, pretty girl, okay? Let me make you feel good,” Hazel smirked at the sound of your moans, kissing your jaw and neck a few times.

“You’re gonna…?” You pant softly, furrowing your brows.

“Whatever you’ll let me do to you. You can say stop whenever, okay?” Hazel hummed as she nosed at your jaw before jerking to the bed.

You nod enthusiastically before scooching up on the bed, kicking off your shoes. Hazel carefully watched you as she lifted her mask to rest on the top of her head. She would need her entire face for what she was planning on doing to you.

You stare at her exposed face, lifting up your own to rest on the top of your head. Hazel smiled at this, admiring how beautiful you are. You always caught her eye but she only really knew you as Brittany’s roommate.

Now, she was really getting to know you.

She kneeled on the bed, placing her hands on your plush thighs. You watch her carefully push your skirt up your waist, biting your lip anxiously. Hazel leaned down to place a soft kiss onto your inner thighs. They were feather-like, sending shivers down your spine. Her ringed hands grip onto the outer parts of your thighs as she whispers praises unto your skin.

You shut your eyes and tilt your head back as she inched to the crotch area of your underwear. You could’ve worn a pair of a lot sexier ones but you landed on seamless hip-huggers. Her fingers thumbed over the waistband, looking up at you with needy eyes.

“Can I take these off?”

“Please, Hazel,” you buck your hips involuntarily.

Hazel leaned down to kiss over your pubic bone, looking up at you. You push your flyways out of your face as you watch Hazel tug your underwear down your legs and toss them on the bedside table. You open your legs slowly to expose yourself to her.

“Can you tell me what feels good, pretty girl? Yeah? Can you do that for me?” Hazel hummed as you placed a few more trailing kisses and licks across your thighs.

You merely whine at her words, growing more and more needy as she continues her way up your thighs. She didn’t give you any time to process it until her warm tongue swiped over your folds. You sucked in a deep breath, a shuddering moan leaving your lips.

“Fuck,” you whisper, admiring the head of shaggy hair in between your legs.

God, her tongue made your squirm like no man ever had. You swore they just licked your thighs and your hip and asked if you came. They could never compare to how amazing Hazel was making you feel. She backed up for a moment to kiss at your clit softly, enjoying the way you were practically dancing on her tongue.

Sweat beads formed at the base of your neck and the crevice of your hips as you rocked against her face. Hazel moaned softly against your wet folds, her tongue fucking into you.

That was only the beginning of it.

After that night, you and Hazel began to just have fun. You didn’t dare tell Brittany that you were sleeping with Hazel, one of her dear friends from high school. It wasn’t your fault that she gave you mind-blowing, legs pulsating, eyes rolling into the back of your head orgasms.

You assumed Brittany knew that you were seeing someone because well, she found your inner thigh hickies when you went home with her to visit her family's pool. When you came back to campus later that evening, you and Brittany arrived to see a small box sitting in front of your door.

“Oh my god is this from your little lover?” Brittany gasped as she kneeled down to pick up the little blue box with a white ribbon bow.

Your eyes widened at the box, furrowed brows at the little tag that read: ‘From, Claire’. You surprised a cheeky smile as you and Hazel had agreed she would be named ‘Claire’ when she got you these surprise gifts of your favorite candies, lingerie and dresses she would have you wear to fuck you in.

“Claire? Do I know a ‘Claire’?” Brittany hummed to herself as she unlocked the dorm room.

“Nope.”

When you both got into the room, you flipped open the note to see: ‘Tomorrow at 6:30. Meet me at my dorm room and I’ll take you somewhere nice, pretty girl.’

You bit your lip as you opened your box when Brittany told you she’d hop in the shower real quick from being so sun-tanned. You unraveled the ribbon and lifted the lid of the blue box to see a black lingerie set but the panties were crotchless.

That little freak.

But my god, you loved it.

Tomorrow couldn’t come faster. Brittany even tried to see who you were texting the night before you went to Hazel’s dorm.

“So am I ever going to meet your fling or are you just always going to disappear out of nowhere and coming back all smiley and giddy?” Brittany hummed as she typed furiously on her laptop, glancing up at you as she adjusted her blue light glasses.

“Hmm, I haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know after this time,” you remarked with a cheeky grin.

“He’s not like an arms dealer or something right?” Brittany narrowed her eyes.

You snorted and shook your head. Some part of you was also just scared to say out loud that you had fooling around with a woman; let alone a friend of hers.

“No. I promise at some point, I will tell you, Britt. I’ll be back at around midnight, I hope.” You beamed, leaning over her bed to give her a kiss on the head.

Brittany chuckled at your actions, telling you how much she loved you and to be safe and not get pregnant. You knew that would never happen.

As much as you would pretend to daydream about it.

When you knocked on Hazel’s dorm room door, it swung open almost immediately to reveal Hazel in a deep green button up with a white wife pleaser underneath and a pair of baggy jeans. Her carabiner with her keys as clasped to one of the loops of her jeans.

She shut the door behind her, eyeing you up and down with a smirk. That was the thing about this little friends with benefits situation you had with Hazel; she actually made you feel sexy. She made you feel like the hottest person in the room.

Like she could eat you alive.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, hmm?” One of her hands snaked around the waist of your sundress.

“Haze,” you sheepishly whine, covering your face with one hand.

“You’re cute. Take the compliment and let’s go, baby.”

Hazel smoothly grabbed your hand that was covering your face into hers, interlocking her fingers with yours. You follow her to her car, getting glances from a few girls that were coming up the stairs that looked like they were studying in the library. Something you should be doing but you were going on a late afternoon date/hookup.

You almost felt guilty. That is until you felt her place a kiss on your forehead when you approached the passengers side of her car. She tugged the door open for you, placing a hand on your lower back.

“Where are you taking me?” You hum, glancing up at her once you sit down on the passenger's seat.

“It’s a surprise, pretty girl. It’s only going to take twenty minutes to get there and it’s going to be worth it.”

She bent down to capture your lips into a soft kiss, smiling when you chased her lips when she pulled away. Her thumb traced over your bottom lip for a moment before she shut the door.

You sat in the seat releasing a shaky breath. She was able to get you riled up without fail.

The drive was in fact a lot shorter than you were expecting. Hazel’s palm never left your thigh, giving it squeezes every now and then. It made you more and more aware of the fact that you were wearing crotch less panties.

Hazel pulled into a rather dark field, the only light source being the setting sun. If you squint, you could see a variety of flowers decorating the green of the field.

“Where are we?” You chuckled, turning to face Hazel.

“If I’m going to be honest before my mom decided to go through her mid-life crisis and start sleeping with barely legal men in high school,” Hazel began, which made your eyes widen for a moment, muttering a soft ‘what’ but Hazel continued on. “She used to take me here to pick flowers to put in the little bay window in our living room. I’ve never forgotten how beautiful it was here. I think you deserve something just like this.”

Your heart soared, leaning into her face. No, you were just having sex while she showered you with gifts and treated you better than any man you’ve ever fooled around with. No feelings.

None. Absolutely none.

“You might want to tone the romance a bit, Hazel. It might ruin your reputation,” you tease, scrunching up your nose.

Hazel tilted her head as her eyes drifted to your lips and back to your eyes.

“I only care about what you think, pretty girl.” Hazel admitted with a gentle kiss to your lips.

No feelings. You kept repeating to yourself internally as you felt the apples of your cheeks heating up.

“Well, I think you’re really sweet. I kind of feel bad that you don’t really get much from me.” You frown, reaching for her chain that was resting at the base of her neck. “Or sorry, you won’t let me as much as I try.”

“I already told you. I like doing this for you. Making you feel good and seeing that pretty smile.”

”Mmm, okay, so, what are you planning on doing while we’re here?” You raise your eyebrows at her, faux innocence coaxed in your voice.

Hazel seemed to be thrown off guard but when she looked at your smile, she knew you were only messing with her.

“I have a blanket in the back seat.”

“Good because I’m wearing the present you got me,” you leaned to ghost your lips over hers.

Hazel let out a soft groan as you chuckled to yourself and tugged open the door of your passenger's seat. You look out at the gorgeous sunset then look at Hazel who looks like she’s trying to calm herself down. She eventually got out, the blanket hooked underneath her arm as she, too, looked out at the sunset.

She grabbed your hand as you marched through the flower field, the petals and grass tickling your legs. Hazel stopped a few feet away from her car to lay down the towel on a flatter patch on the ground. She laid down, looking up at you as she caressed your calf and tugging your leg forward.

You knew what she was asking of you.

“Wait, really?” You kneeled down, brushing your flyaways out of your place and looking around.

There were miles of trees and fields and there was probably no chance anyone would catch you guys. Yet there was still a slight fear in your chest that someone was going to catch you sitting on Hazel’s face.

“There’s no one around for miles, pretty girl,” she sat up right on her forearms, looking at you with nothing but hunger in her eyes.

“Okay, okay, I guess I’ll let you eat me out,” you sigh dramatically before straddling over her face.

Hazel laid back down so that she could push the skirt to your sundress up your plush thighs. She held back her smirk when she saw the lace covering your cunt and the crotchless portion that you promised you were wearing. Hazel didn’t hesitate to dive into your folds, teasing your clit slowly. You gasped and felt your knees give out so that you were full sitting on her face.

Your thighs entrapped her cheeks as your hands found her messy head of hair. Your moans freely left your mouth as she hungrily moved her jaw until the muscles ached. Her movements increased in speed as you whined and begged for her to keep going.

“Please, baby. So good, you’re so good.” You babble as you grinded your wet folds over her lips to her chin, coating her skin with your slick.

Hazel’s hands harshly gripped at your outer thighs as she followed your hip movements, letting her own moans flow out. Her rings made indents into your skin but it stung wonderfully, addictively. Your orgasm came quickly, your back shuddering as your hands were tangled in Hazel’s hair roughly.

You sat up with all your might, panting harshly as you looked down at Hazel’s flushed and wet face.

“You taste so good. Come here,” Hazel pushed up so she was sitting right up on her bottom, her hand snaking up to cup the back of your neck.

You giggle as you connect your lips, softly moaning into each other's mouths. The taste of your own juices lingered in your mouth as she messily made out with you.

“I could eat you everyday and never get sick of it,” she muttered against your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip.

And you wouldn’t hate it if she did.

special thank you to @breezy-sapphic for reading this over <3

[daycourtofficial]

Worms, worms, worms!

Pairing: Modern!Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.2k | warnings: none

Summary: Eris's son Atlas is finally asking the important questions about life and how far his dad’s love extends

Author’s note: and that’s a wrap on @erisweekofficial for me!!! Had to end it with this idea from @pit-and-the-pen. I had a lot of fun. I posted 32.7k worth of words about this ginger man who won’t leave me alone (and probably have 10k worth of words sitting in my drafts that I didn’t finish).

It had been raining for three days in Autumn. Eris woke up to a small body tackling him, giggles filling his ears as a tiny but loud voice screamed in his ear, “worms!”

Eris quickly clamped a hand over the toddler’s mouth, looking over to find his mate still snoring lightly. He looked back at his son, hand still clamped to his mouth but he felt the grin beneath it.

“Let me get dressed and I’ll find you in your room.”

That was not a suitable answer for Atlas, who was currently in a phase where being away from either of his parents was considered cruel and unusual punishment. His little lip wobbled, tears quickly springing to his eyes before Eris realized his error.

“You can stay as I dress if you are quiet and do not disturb your mother.”

His whispered words were stern, but Atlas nodded and Eris removed his hand from the toddler’s mouth. He walked backwards, watching Atlas cuddle up in his spot on the bed, his little body wanting to cuddle up to his mother.

Unfortunately for Atlas, you had spent the night throwing up, and in a hormonal fit banned Eris from the bathroom. He couldn’t decide what was worse - comforting you while having to watch you vomit or having to listen to you throw up in the comfort of his bed.

The two of you were still trying to figure out when to tell Atlas his reign as the youngest Vanserra was coming to an end, but there was still time before you began showing. You hardly showed at all while pregnant with Atlas - maybe Eris would be lucky and not have to tell Atlas until the babe arrived and then his son would be so enamored with the thing he wouldn’t have time to be upset. Atlas loved his cousin, Nyx, but there was no telling how he’d respond to another child around permanently.

Eris pushed away his doubts and scooped Atlas into his arms. He carried him through the door and down the hall back into Atlas’s room before setting him down on his bed. The miniature version of himself looked up at him, a tiny furrow in his brow.

“Worms are outside, Dada.”

“Yes, but if you want to find worms, you have to dress for worms, not wear your pajamas.”

Eris moved through the drawers, finding clothes for Atlas to wear, as well as his raincoat and mud boots. It took several minutes of wrangling and holding him down to get his son dressed, but he looked adorable in the bright yellow raincoat. The hood of it even had tiny eyes and a bill sewn into it, courtesy of his Aunt Elain. 

The day Atlas grew out of loving ducks would be a very sad day for Prythian. 

The two walked down the hall, or at least they attempted to. Atlas’s boots made him waddle ever so slightly when he got too fast, which was very often as they got closer and closer to being outside. They went to the back of the house, Atlas’s boots squelching with each step in the wet ground. Beyond the house, just before the trees, was a clearing that Atlas has figured out is the perfect spot to go hunting for worms. The land was full of mud - occasional hoof marks and carriage tracks, but the air smelled of fresh rain and dirt.

Eris turned his head just in time to hear a plop as he watched Atlas sit in the largest puddle he could find, sticking his tiny fingers into the mud, squishing the mud in his fist as he giggled in happiness. Eris hiked up his pants before crouching down next Atlas, balancing on his heels as he helped Atlas dig in the dirt. A short silence overtook the pair interrupted only by a soft squeal and wet dirt being flung into the air, thankfully in the direction away from Eris. 

“Atlas.” Eris’s voice was stern, a sheepish look on his son’s face. “We’ve talked about this.”

“No throwing dirt.”

Atlas was an easily excited child. He loved all things in nature and oftentimes was not wholly aware of his surroundings, leading to several people having what is now commonly known as ‘Atlas dirt incidents’. Whenever they would complain to Eris, he would look down his nose at them and ask, “why were you standing so close to a boy playing in the mud?”

Eris continued helping Atlas dig through the mud, his soft squeals of excitement reminding him of Clover’s new litter of pups that happened to coincide with this newest babe. The pup will be six months older than this new addition, plenty of time for Eris to train them a good bit. 

Atlas’s own dog, Pumpkin, had remained inside - usually as rambunctious as Atlas, it was a funny sight how the rain caused him to cease all interest in expending any energy. He was likely sprawled across Atlas’s bed, the wetness in the air outside keeping him asleep.

Atlas's small hand had formed a fist in the mud, the ends of a few worms wriggling, attempting to escape his clutches. Eris lightly grabbed his son’s hand, trying to get him to relax his grasp. He often got so excited over the worms he found, he would inadvertently squeeze them to death. The tears that formed from that seemed to last for a week, his son’s voice trembling as he asked over and over again if he was getting banished to Illyria for being a worm slayer.

It would be funny if Eris didn’t have to be the one consoling Atlas.

“You love me, right Dada?”

“More than you know.”

Eris held onto a few of the worms so his son could look at each worm individually. As if he were inspecting them, his eyes assessed each worm with intense focus, before he would proudly proclaim the worm’s name. Last time they did this, Atlas named seven worms - three were named Pumpkin, two were named Mama, and two were named Dada. Despite his many talents, Atlas wasn’t very creative with worm names.

“What if I was a worm?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue, the resolute what a silly question, why would you be a worm? But Atlas’s big eyes looked up at him, dulling his sharp tongue. He kept Atlas’s gaze, trying to soften his own and smiled.

“Very much.”

Atlas would tell you later on about this and you would spend all week teasing Eris by asking, “would you love me if I were a tea kettle?” and “what if I were a cow, hmm?” You would tease, despite the fact that Eris was sure you had asked him your own fair share of silly questions. 

That’s okay. He’d take the teasing. He’d carry you and Atlas around in his pockets, providing fresh dirt every day if he had to. He’d do anything to make the two of you happy, including indulging his toddler’s questions about life as a worm.

He would love a worm if it would spare his son a moment of heartache.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Thanks for reading❣️

[tsunamis-for-uzumaki]

Tips for making actually cheap punk clothes from someone that has spent a maximum of $11 on any specific project over 3 years:

Bottle caps make AMAZING pins. There's countless ways to make bottlecap pins, but I mainly do it by 1) filling the cap with hot glue and 2) gluing a safety pin to the back. It's up to the individual. But the point is: Save bottlecaps.

DRINK CANS ARE AMAZING FOR MAKING SPIKES! Any aluminum can works - Monster cans, beer cans, etc. - all you have to do is cut off the tops and bottoms; make it a flat sheet; cut the metal into small semicircles; and roll it into cones. They stay in place easily with hot glue, and when you put them onto anything, they look just as good as store-bought.

Save Can Tabs. They can be put onto jackets, made into chains, earrings, necklaces, or anything else you want.

Literally anything can be made punk. Jeans, cargo pants, denim jackets, t-shirts, shoes, hoodies - the sky's the limit. Don't let these tiktok punks tell you that only their $80 Social Distortion pants and $120 denim jackets can be punk. Any clothes you pull out of a dumpster can be punkified.

Old T-shirts that no longer fit and have a design on them can be cut out and made into backpieces. Band shirts are particularly great for this, so if you thrift a Motorhead shirt that's too small, you can cut out the design and sew it onto a jacket and bam - you've got an exclusive piece of merch.

This one's more of an opinion, but: If you're patching up a jacket, sew the patches onto the outside of the jacket. If you're patching up pants, create holes where you want the design, and sew the patches from the inside of the pants.

Do research. If a "thrift store" calls itself a cheap alternative store, but has $50 jeans, it's not a thrift store. It's a vintage reseller, and the clothes are almost always WAY overpriced.

Shoplift carefully. Go somewhere you don't usually go - a large chain like Walmart or Target or Staples, not a local business - and take small things. Don't go somewhere that you're a regular at, or shoplift multiple times in a short period of times, or do too much at once. You will develop a track record and have more of a chance of being caught. However, the workers don't get paid less for you stealing, and the big suits in corporate won't notice or care about a missing pack of dental floss.

Experiment! Have fun with it! I've been Frankenstein-ing my jacket for years and counting - I've taken off the sleeves, added new sleeves, painted on it, put patches on it, added pins, anything you can think of. Be loud, be ugly, be weird, be happy.

If you have a painted patch or spot on pants/a jacket/whatever and it's old, but you want to take it off now, or if you just made a mistake, acetone can get pretty much any amount and age of paint out of any fabric. By acetone, I mean most nail polish removers or rubbing alcohols.

Now, I hate buying things for making punk clothes, but there are a few things that, in my opinion, are investments that last FOREVER. This includes: Hot glue guns; nail polish remover (for the last tip, mainly); paint pens and containers of paint (fabric or not); sharpies; dental floss or just normal thread; fabric scissors; and SAFETY PINS. None of them are very expensive, but they'll come in handy for years.

ESPECIALLY SHARPIES. That's the one thing I won't debate is a perfect investment. You can get a set of 12 colors or 12 black ones for like $9, and you can use them for EVERYTHING. The color also won't bleed when washed, as opposed to most pens and markers.

SAFETY PINS ARE A FASHION STATEMENT IN AND OF ITSELF. They're super useful in making clothes and jewelry, they're cheap and easy to find, and just nice to line the hems of your pants with.

When you make a square patch, fold in the edges slightly so that the edges don't fray. This makes it slightly harder to sew on, but it keeps the patch in good condition for longer - unless the idea is to look tattered. Then don't.

Don't be afraid to add something random and weird to your clothing because "oh people are gonna see it and know I like this weird niche thing" - that's the whole point! It's an expression of who YOU are, not what people want you to be. If people - especially other punks - judge you for it, fuck them. Unless...

No swastikas, no iron crosses, no symbols of oppression, no TERF shit. I'd say that's the only rule of punk - to say "oppression is punk" is going against everything punk stands for. Of course, if you do it anyways, you should at least know you deserve the beating you get at a basement show attended by underpaid and rage-filled faggots.

Of course, these are just mine, and there's plenty more that I do not know. If you've got your own way of doing things that goes against mine, that's awesome. But if you need to start somewhere as a kid punk, I hope this helped.

[daisiescomelate]

Love ink

Prompt: Sukuna asks you to get matching tattoos for Valentine's day.

div. cafekitsune

You noticed Sukuna was acting kind of odd. He had been avoiding your eyes all day and scratching the back of his neck enough for it to go red.

"Is everything okay?" You asked him after lunch. He was cleaning the dishes while you were scrabbling the grocery list for the week on the kitchen table. There was no damned pen in the house that wasn't dry, many of them scattered around you. It had taken you fifteen minutes to find a marker that worked properly.

You had been trying to ask him if there was anything else he thought you needed to add and all his answers had being a variation of 'don't know'.

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"You are acting... strange today."

"Strange how?", he said and turned around for a second before quickly looking forward again when your eyes met each other.

"That."

"What?"

"What you just did."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

You narrowed your eyes at him. It was the first time in a while that he curse at you like that.

"You did something." It was a statement.

"What?"

"You are anxious."

"I'm not."

"You cheated."

"I did not." That was enough for him to throw the dishes into the sink and turn his full body to face you.

"If it's not that then why are you so scared to tell me." You said, not really believing Sukuna had done anything particularly bad but looking to fire him up enough so he would tell you. It was hard to make Sukuna talked when he didn't want to but you always wanted to hear it, even if it meant you would have to make him scream it to you at your face.

Sukuna clenched his jaw while staring at you from his place next to the sink, then lightly blushed. You blinked.

"'s Valentine's day next week."

You blinked again.

"Yes, indeed."

"You said to do something I wanted."

Oh!

You stood up and crossed the few steps that separated you from him. You wrapped your arms around him and smiled.

"Yes, baby! You always ask me what I want to do for Valentine's day. This year should be all yours. Did you think of something already?" You kissed his cheek and his blush increased. Moving his gaze away from you again to look at a random spot on the wall he murmured,

"Tattoo."

"What?" You looked at him confused, "You want a new tattoo?". You didn't get it. Frowning your eyebrows you asked, "You want me to go with you to get a new tattoo?"

The blushed crept all the way up to his ears and he still didn't look at you.

You sighed. "I mean... I wasn't expecting that but if that's what you want to do, of course! Do you want another big tattoo, is that it? Like a full session of a few hours, is that why you want me there?"

Sukuna cleared his throat and finally, finally looked at you in the eyes. With a little bit of hesitation but pushing his words with intent out of himself he said,

"I want matching tattoos."

"Matching tattoos?" You echoed as if he had suddenly spat some foreign words to you.

"Like a couples tattoo." He clarified.

"Okay, wait-"

"You don't want to." It wasn't a question.

With a strange look in his eyes, Sukuna removed your arms off his neck and turned back around to returned to the task he had abandoned before.

You were frozen in place, eyes wide. The stiffness in his shoulders brought you quickly back, and this time you hugged him from behind, trying to be careful with your words.

"Sorry, love. You just caught me off guard. Don't be sad, please. You know what, lets do it." You hugged him tighter. "I don't have to think about it, I really want to be with you forever and ever, love." You planted kissed on his back until you felt him relax a little bit.

"What do you want it to be?" You continued, "A heart will be cute... or two birds. Honestly I think we should do something a little bit more symbolic, something that would represent us better like-"

"Our names."

Another right hook to your stomach.

"Our names?!" You squiked.

Sukuna was facing you again, this time using the puppy eyes that he had learned by accident made you so weak to his demands.

He pulled you closer to his chest and surrounded you with his arms. Your faces were an inch apart. He moved his right hand so it would slip under your shirt and with the tip of his fingers he traced a line on your lower back. "Mine here", he said in a low, raspy voice. The heat of his touch and the dept of his tone made you knees weak.

He moved so his breath would be next to your ear as he whispered his next line.

"And you can pick where yours goes on me."

Knockout.

You felt like a deer on the headlights in between his touch and his proposition.

He could see how much you struggled with the idea in your eyes.

"Why not?", he said a kiss away from your lips in a pout. Sukuna's manipulative tendencies had never disappeared since you met, they just had evolved into something more dangerous.

"Think about it" he said holding you closer looking down at your mouth and whispering as if he were sharing a secret with your lips.

"Do you want your name over my heart?" He gave a step forward, forcing you to step back.

"On the back of my neck?"

Step.

"On my tight?"

Step.

"Where everyone can see or where only you can see?"

Step. Step.

"Where do you picture it?"

Step.

Table.

He had you trapped.

"I don't know, It-It sounds like a very important decision. Let me think it over for a bit." You stuttered, knowing how dangerous it could be to hold your weight against the table.

Sukuna raised his eyes from your lips and look directly at you. You knew that look. That determination. He had an idea. Oh, no.

"Then why don't we run some tests?" He said. He moved his arms forward consequently pushing you to sit over the table. Closer and closer, his weight falling over you.

You closed your eyes, expectantly.

A moment later, he retreated.

You opened your eyes again but slowly. Sukuna stood straight in front of you with a black marker in his hand right in front of your face.

"See where you like it better." He said with a devilish smile, all teeth.

You stared at the marker as if it could bite.

Damn devil.

With a sigh, you took it from him and took off the cap.

Long story shot, a week later your diabolical boyfriend got want he wanted.

N/A: no proofread, sorry. Where would you put his tattoo? 🤭 Definitely somewhere visible for me 😏 Thank you for reading!

Masterlist of fics

[ageingfangirl2]

Make You Feel Good! Benn Beckman x Reader SMUT! (One Piece)

Being Shanks second in command comes with a lot of paperwork, both necessary and unnecessary. Luckily you know how to help Benn destress while he works. You underestimate how much paperwork and start to get needy cockwarming Benn. He knows how to keep his doll in place. Benn x Reader (Female) SMUT!

Benn was pulling another all-nighter, Shanks hated paperwork so Benn took on the responsibility. The gentle rocking of the ship and pen scratching on paper kept you occupied in your current position. Your head was resting on Benn's shoulder as you played with loose strands of his hair, trying so hard not to move as commanded which was hard with Benn's dick inside you making you go crazy at how long you'd been sitting here.

Benn hums, 'It's...really distracting when you do that doll.'

You huff, 'you said one more page ages ago.'

Benn stops writing, and the next thing you know one of his rough hands grabs you by the chin and forces you to look up at him. The sudden movement has you clenching around his dick wanting release.

'...FUCK!' you moan.

Benn smirks, he was the oldest most experienced member of the crew. And what you didn't know was how much he craved you and how thrilled he was when you came onto him drunk and had come back to him when you were sober. You were younger than him, and out of his league, whereas you believed he thought you were a child because you went along with Shanks's antics. You wanted pleasure and he wanted a way to relax, most nights he got you off quickly but tonight cockwarming was the longest and you could be impatient.

He runs his thumb over your lip, 'So beautiful and all mine doll. Such a slut for my dick, you haven't done this with anyone else have you?'

You shake your head, 'Just you, only you. Please don't tease me anymore,' you beg, voice shaking as you grip his shirt with your hands.

Benn smirks, 'get me a smoke will you.'

Feeling his dick angle more towards your sensitive spot as you lean back to reach behind you for his cigarettes and lighter you mumble curses under your breath. He places both of his hands on your hips keeping you in place. You put a cigarette between his lips and light it.

'Thanks, doll. now if I give you a little something will you keep quiet and let me finish my work?' he asks, tone playful but mischievous.

You nod eagerly, 'yes I will keep quiet.'

He picks you up by the hips making you squirm and gasp at the cold air on your slick pussy as he pulls out of you. He then slams you back down roughly.

'...YES...BENN!' you shout with a hiss, forgetting just how big he is.

Benn's nickname for you was doll, and you lived up to that nickname as you let him play with you, picking you up and slamming you right back down onto his dick, 'keep the noise down doll. Someone is going to walk in while I have my dick inside you, can't tarnish your good girl image,' he mocks.

You put your hands over your mouth to quiet yourself and nod in compliance. Shanks quarters were right next door and you didn't want your captain seeing you in such a vulgar position when he respected you. The only sounds around were your muffled cries, skin slapping against skin, and Benn grunting as he picked up the pace.

'Such a good girl, does it feel good when I use you like this?' Benn praises, and your hips buck against him as one of his fingers finds your clit and continues the overstimulation.

'Mmm...' you mumble, the noise coming out muffled behind your hands, your eyes rolling back, as you feel warmth in your lower half.

Benn grunts, 'I know you like this doll. I know how to make you feel good and cum. Now cum for me, cum around my dick and fingers.'

You come undone, walls clenching around his dick as you cum on demand. You remove your shaky hands from your mouth panting heavily, '...thank...you...Benn...'

Benn grins proudly, 'My turn doll, let me fill you up.'

With a couple more thrusts he cums inside you filling you up like promised, clearly just as pent up as you had been, the two of you riding out each other's high. He brings his cum soaked fingers up to your lips and you take them in your mouth sucking them clean. His eyes were full of admiration as he took the cigarette in his other hand and blew smoke at you.

You smile blissfully as you go back to resting your head on his shoulder, 'you can finish your paperwork in peace now.'

Benn leans down and kisses the top of your head, 'going to buy my doll something pretty when we next dock,' he says jokingly.

You roll your eyes and mumble, 'As long as it's shiny.'

You were a fierce fighter, quick-witted and a smooth negotiator, but your sweet appearance meant a lot of people underestimated you. the crew would tease you and treat you like a princess or a doll, but when shit hit the fan they wanted you on their side. Right now you were content being Benn's stress relief as you both got something out of this arrangement.

[mx-pastelwriting]

Ghost HC - Taking a nap in the Papa's lap while they work

Papa Emeritus x GN! Reader

Summary: Taking a nap in the Papa's lap while they work.

Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Lap Sitting, Napping/Sleeping

Characters: Primo, Secondo, Terzo, Copia

Primo

- Very open and used to it, being the eldest of his brothers having experience soothing someone to sleep, especially in his lap. It had been years since then, as his brothers were no longer little.

- Surprised at first, looking up from his work, seeing your tired face welcoming you with open arms, with mixed feelings of love and guilt from working late, leaving you sleepless in a cold bed.

- Wrapping you up in his warm arms, gently patting your back, patiently waiting for sleep to take effect. Once asleep, he returns to work, writing quietly, planting kisses on your head with every page turn.

- Giving a dirty look to anyone who entered his office, sister, papa, or ghoul all get the same treatment, even kicking those who were too loud out. Even with the ones who were lucky to stay, he ignored their stares while forcing them to talk in a whisper.

- Once finished with his work, feeling another pang of guilt having to wake you, choosing to do so with soft kisses while cupping your face whispering sweet Italian nothings.

Primo sighed at the loud noise of his office door being opened, seeing Terzo's head poke in, greeted with the eldest crooked stare. The stare did little to his younger brother, watching as he threw a folder on the desk with a loud smack.

"You haven't changed one bit, brother." Putting down his pen at Terzo's words, giving a harder stare to his brother's smug face. "Did they get a bedtime story too?" he says lastly before rushing out of the office to avoid Primo's protective wrath.

However, as you stirred against his chest, the wrath swiftly dissipated, causing the papa to forget the stack of work before him and embrace you tightly, patiently waiting for sleep to return.

-

Secondo

- Would have to talk him into it or beg, as he always hated when Terzo would fall asleep on his shoulder when they were little, but seeing your tired face, he folds so fast. Spending his evening in the ministry's front room, sat on the long couch next to the stained-glass window, looking over sister's response to his filings.

- Feeling your presence behind the packet of papers, seeing you wrapped in a blanket, begging. With a loud sigh, picking up the stack of papers on his lap, throwing them to the floor.

- Even when cuddling in bed, he sighs, acting slightly annoyed, but secretly loves every minute of your sleeping face lying comfortably on his chest. Placing one hand on your back, caressing lightly while continuing to look over paperwork.

- Wouldn't bother looking at who passed by, sister or papa, but always looked down at you when Siblings of Sin walked by, whispering amongst each other about the sight. The reputation of Secondo was one of many rumors, yet here you were sparking new ones.

- Fails to even finish his work, being so comfortable, papers still in hand as he nods off. Waking up from his snores, leaving you with the job of putting the papa to bed.

Waking to the loud rumble of snores, sitting up in the papa's lap, seeing the melted sleeping face of Secondo. Holding back a laugh as his mouth hung agape, looking around, spotting the papers that were loosely clutching in his hand.

Removing the files from his hand to the other side of the couch before thinking of how to wake him. Cupping the papa's face lightly, only getting to plant a single kiss before quickly waking up, smiling at his confused state. Moving off Secondo's lap, slowly getting used to standing, taking his hand and pulling up, holding back a joke about his old bones.

-

Terzo

- Does not understand when first being asked, assuming you mean something else that involves his lap. Only once you climb onto his lap and cuddle up does he understand with a small "Oh." Though it is somewhat new to him, only having your past nights together will give him an idea.

- Having stayed in the ministry's library for the whole morning ordered by sister to reread the teachings, so when you appear, he's so happy, kicking the book aside.

- A bit disappointed you didn't take him away from all the work, but nonetheless, he holds you close. Wrapping his arms around you while holding the book up against your back, resting against his chest, having a racing heartbeat to fall asleep to.

- Sitting in the back corner of the library, liking for people to have the thrill of finding him, just to tease them when they do. So only his ghouls ever came across the sight, but they cared very little about their papa's antics.

- Lasting only thirty minutes before putting down the book, turning his attention to you. Lovingly admiring your sleeping face, tempted to shower you with kisses, though holding back, not wanting to wake you even if it meant spending the night sitting in the quiet library.

Gently, Terzo's hand glided up and down your back, feeling the soft fabric that covered it, using both arms to hold you close and safe, not caring for the book of teachings.

Being ready to take sister's scolding later, her words pushed out of his mind in place of you. Looking softly with his two-toned eyes at your smushed face that lay against his chest. Imagining you heard every breath and race of his heart from your presence alone, carefully placing a kiss atop your head, causing a stir of movement, quickly the papa held his breath, fearing he'd woken you.

-

Copia

- Agrees shyly to the ask, a bit overwhelmed, feeling you on his lap, making it harder to concentrate. In the past, having many cuddle parties with the rats and him, but this was very different, being so closely intimate with no moves to escalation.

- Interrupting his work of looking over the new tour dates, sat on the living room couch late in the evening. Thinking it was time for dinner when you came to him only stopping from getting up when you asked.

- Confusingly agrees, only realizing what he agreed to when you sit down, hesitantly taking you in his arms, struggling a bit to go back to reading. When used to the loving action, he rests his head atop yours, tempted to fall asleep himself.

- A bit embarrassed if someone came across the sight, wanting to move in his seat, but warned not to by your stirs. After a few times getting used to being seen in such a tender position, even by sister, he still squirms a bit, but her smile reassures him.

- In the end, when sister comes in to call you both for dinner, she withdraws after seeing not wanting to interrupt, instead having one of his ghouls bring up some plates to your shared room.

Slipping out of the cold bed, sleepily waddling out of the bedroom into the living room, met the sight of Copia nose-deep in tour dates.

"Cardi," your voice turns his attention, slowly putting down the stapled papers with eyes that soften at the sight of you. "Can I take a nap with you?" quickly, nodding to your question, climbing onto his lap, lying against his chest.

Tangling up his limbs with yours, then planting a kiss on your cheek before finding a way to go back to reading smiling at the sound of your snores.

Lightly patting your back while reading along the lines, not hearing sister's heels echoing down the hall. Spooked by the sound of a knock and the front door opening, sister's head in the opening before quickly retreating, seeing the sight of you two.

-

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @littlebitchsposts @urlocalfanficwriter