#I really needed a day in to do my own home shit

[everyonewooeverywhere]

pairing ✭ sub!soobin x afab!reader

synopsis ✭ soobin just wants you to come home. he misses you so so much. but you left your panties on the bed...so maybe he'll be okay.

content/genre ✭ smut

word count ✭ 1k

notes ✭ this is a rewrite of one of my yunho fics 🤭

warnings ✭ smut, panty sniffing ☺️, mommy kink, sub soobin, dirty talk (mc calls soobin a whore & slut), masturbation

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

He knew he shouldn’t call you in the middle of the day. You were out with friends, getting lunch and shopping. He didn’t need to be by your side at every waking moment…but actually he did.

The bed felt so cold without you. No amount of blankets could replicate your touch. But he needed to let you be. It was noon anyway. He should probably get out of bed.

So…he called you. And it rang. And rang. And rang until eventually the tune faded and he was left with his own wildly impure thoughts. He could stop thinking about you. How good you had smelt after you’d spritzed your perfume in the bathroom. How good your legs had looked under that skirt. How gently you’d kissed him before you left.

Pressing a hand to his chest and pressing your freshly glossed lips to his own, “Be a good boy for me while I’m gone, okay?” 

He’d only nodded breathlessly before retreating to your bed and burying himself in your fluffy blankets. Bringing one of them up to his face and inhaling the scent of your shampoo and fabric softener that clung to the fabric. He could already feel himself getting unbearably hard.

And when you hadn’t picked up, he’d only gotten more and more needy. When he tossed his phone down next to him, though, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. 

Fuck.

You’d left a pair of panties on the bed. The ones you had just changed out of before you left. The light blue fabric printed with little bows was taunting him. 

He should put them in the laundry. Clean them for you. And let you kiss him on the forehead and call him a good boy for helping you out.

But they were so close. It was just so easy to take them. Keep them. Hide them in a special place. He should’ve felt more guilty. Where was that nervous knot in his stomach that kept him from doing stupid shit? Was this a boundary he really wanted to cross?

He reached across the bed and pinched the waistband, caressing the fabric with his thumb and dragging it closer to him. “Fuck,” he groaned softly as he gingerly picked them up. 

It was so wrong of him. Why was he acting this way? Like some kind of sex-depraved creep. He was your boyfriend for fucks sake. You buried his cock deep in your pussy nearly every day. Riding him and draining him dry. Leaving him a babbling whimpering mess every night before kissing his cheeks and caressing his hair until he inevitably fell asleep in your arms.

And was here returning the favor by burying his nose in your panties, whimpering at the scent of you left on them. He finally pulled his aching cock out of his shorts (he always forwent underwear in the house). The precum leaking out of the tip was more than enough to lube himself up as he teased himself. Starting the pumps painfully slow. Grazing a finger over the underside. 

He was a whining mess. Whimpering into your panties, picturing you sitting on his face. He imagined you breathing in his ear.

I thought you were gonna be my good boy?

No? You’re gonna be a little whore, aren’t you.

It’s ok~ Mommy likes needy little sluts anyway.

He shuttered at the thought of your breath on his neck. Degrading him just like he deserved, “Hmmm, mommy,” he whimpered, “‘M sorry–fuck–’m sorry mommy.”

The words came out as barely coherent babbles that he choked out between breaths. Pumping his cock desperately and erratically in his fist just to get a fraction of the feel of you. 

He brought the panties down to his cock and rolled over onto his stomach. He gripped your pillow for dear life, moaning and sobbing into it as he furiously jerked himself off. The control he had over himself was wearing thin. He kept grinding into your mattress, too. Trying to give himself just a little more friction. 

It was so overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time. Everything smelt like you. The pillow, the sheets, the blankets tangled between his legs. But nothing felt quite like you. Not his fist, not the panties, not anything he could get himself.

The whimpers come out as he aimlessly begged, “Need you. Mmm…need you so bad.” His grip on his cock tightened as he felt himself get closer, “Need mommy’s pussy. Hah–please.”

He imagined you chucking at him. Condescending telling him that, “Mommy’s right here. You have mommy’s pussy.” You’d grip his cheek between your fingers, “Don’t tell me you need more?” And you’d pout out your bottom lip as his eyes welled up with tears, “Baby boy can’t get off by himself, can he? Needs some help?” And he’d nod desperately. He’d have no resolve, no dignity left. Just an empty head filled with the desire to cum.

The more he thought about your dirty words the closer he got. So so so close. “Please please please,” he whined, “Mommy please let me cum. ‘M your good boy. Please–’m a good boy.”

And just the thought of you telling him, “Go ahead baby. Cum for mommy,” made him cum. A lot. All into your panties and over your sheets and he shook under your blankets. Sobbing into your pillows. 

When he collapsed fully into your pillows, he had to take a few minutes to catch his breath. Trying to realize what had just happened. He pulled your blanket up to his neck snuggling further into your bed. 

His phone buzzed next to him. And he groaned as he stretched over to grab it. Only to see a text from you. 

angel : what happened to being my good boy soobin?

angel : i can’t leave you at home for a few hours without you breaking the rules, can i?

What the fuck? He clicked out of the chat quickly to check his call log. And there it was.

You’d been on the phone the whole time.

general taglist: @swimmingkpopblog @oddracha @drinkingrumandcocacola @minaateez @funnyvxlentine

txt taglist: @shinyj3lly

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 14

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions of death, funeral setting

Y/n’s POV

The soft chime of the bell above the bridal studio’s door signals the end of my shift. I tidy up the counter, brush a few stray threads from my clothes, and grab my bag. It’s been a long day of fittings and consultations, but my excitement about tonight keeps me energized.

Chris is meeting my parents tonight. The thought alone sends a nervous flutter through my stomach, but it’s a good kind of nervous.

On my way out, I stop by the cafe down the street to grab two lattes and a croissant for Willow. It’s become something of a tradition to visit her after my shifts, especially when I need a pep talk. With everything going on tonight, I need her calming advice more than ever.

Willow’s apartment is buzzing with energy when I arrive. She’s blasting music in the kitchen while unpacking groceries, a pair of fluffy slippers on her feet.

“You’re a lifesaver” she says, grabbing the coffee from my hand and taking a sip. “Ugh, perfect. Come in, sit!”

I settle onto her couch, pulling the croissant out of the bag and sliding it across the table to her. “Figured you could use this.”

“You know me too well” she says with a grin, taking a bite.

As she eats, I fill her in on the news. “So.. my parents are meeting my boyfriend tonight.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “BOYFRIEND?!”

I nod, though the flutter of nerves in my chest betrays me. “Yeah, it feels right. I mean, he’s really trying, you know? So he’s coming over for dinner.”

Willow leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studies me. “How’s he doing after today, though? With the funeral and all?”

I freeze mid sip of my coffee. “Funeral?”

Her expression shifts, suddenly cautious. “Wait, he didn’t tell you?”

I shake my head, my mind racing. Why didn’t he mention this? Now I feel stupid.

“Yeah” Willow continues, her voice softer now. “I heard it was today, Chris must’ve been there.”

I nod slowly, unsure how to process this new information. A funeral. A funeral. And he hadn’t said a word to me about it.

Part of me feels hurt, like I’ve been left out of something important. But the other part of me, the rational part, knows why he didn’t tell me. He’s trying to protect me, to keep me away from the darker parts of his world.

Still, it stings.

Willow must notice the shift in my expression because she reaches over and places a hand on my arm. “Hey, don’t overthink it. Chris probably didn’t want to stress you out with everything going on. He’s dealing with a lot.”

“I know” I say, my voice quieter than I intended. “It’s just.. I want him to feel like he can tell me these things, you know?”

Willow nods, her eyes sympathetic. “You’re in a tricky spot, Y/n. But he’ll come around. Just give it time.”

I glance at my phone and realize how late it’s gotten. “Shit, I need to get going. I have a million things to prep before dinner.”

Willow grins, her mood lifting again. “Go knock em dead. And text me after, I need all the details.”

“You’ll be the first to know” I promise, grabbing my bag and heading for the door.

As I start the journey home, my mind is buzzing with thoughts. Chris and I have come so far, but there’s still so much I don’t know about his life. Maybe tonight will be a step toward bridging that gap.

When I get to my house, I take a deep breath. Time to focus. Tonight isn’t just about meeting my parents, it’s about taking the next step, together.

Chris’ POV

The air outside the church was heavy, the kind of suffocating weight that sticks with you after saying goodbye to someone you cared about. Nate and I stood in silence as the crowd dispersed, the murmurs of the attempted hit at the funeral still fresh in my mind.

“You hear that shit?” Nate finally spoke, his voice low but brimming with anger. His jaw was clenched tight, and his hands balled into fists at his sides.

I nodded, keeping my gaze on the ground. “Yeah, I heard. It’s messed up, man. Who does that at a funeral?”

“It’s more than messed up” Nate snapped, turning toward me. His eyes were bloodshot from crying, but now they burned with rage. “It’s a straight up declaration of war. At Danny’s funeral, Chris. Do you understand what that means?”

I did, and it made my stomach churn. Whoever tried to pull this off wasn’t just sending a message they were escalating things in the dirtiest way possible. It wasn’t just about Crimson and H-Block anymore, it was personal.

“What do you wanna do?” I asked carefully, knowing full well Nate was on the verge of boiling over.

“What do I wanna do?” he repeated, his voice rising. “I wanna find out who did it and make them pay. No one disrespects my cousin like that.”

I grabbed his shoulder before he could start pacing. “Nate, you gotta keep it together. If Vince catches wind of this before you calm down, he’ll drag you into something you might not come back from.”

“And you think I’m just supposed to sit here and do nothing?” he shot back.

I didn’t have an answer for that. Nate was right to be angry, and it wasn’t like I didn’t feel the same way. But going off the rails wouldn’t bring Danny back, and it definitely wouldn’t stop whatever was coming next.

I felt like I was being pulled in two different directions. On one hand, Nate needed me. He was barely holding it together, and leaving him alone after what just happened felt like a betrayal. On the other hand, I’d made a promise to Y/n. Meeting her parents tonight was a big deal, and I couldn’t just bail.

“You’re not alone in this” I said after a moment. “But we gotta be smart about it. If we make a move now, it’ll only give Vince more of a reason to lose it. Let’s figure out who’s behind it first, then we’ll decide what to do.”

Nate stared at me, his expression a mix of fury and frustration. For a second, I thought he was going to argue, but then he exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if I find out who it was before you do, I’m handling it my way.”

I nodded, even though his words made my chest tighten. There was no stopping Nate once he set his mind on something.

“Listen, I’ll check in later tonight, okay?” I said, trying to sound confident.

“Why? You got plans or something?”

I hesitated. “Yeah. I promised Y/n I’d meet her parents tonight. Dinner in hers.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed. “You’re ditching me for dinner? After everything that just happened?”

“It’s not like that” I said quickly. “This is important, too. I have to show her I’m serious about us. You know that.”

He scoffed, turning away from me. “Whatever, man. Go play house. I’ll deal with this on my own.”

“Nate-”

“Just go, Chris. You’ve got your priorities.”

The words hit harder than I expected. I wanted to stay, to make sure he didn’t do something reckless, but I couldn’t let Y/n down. Not tonight.

I sighed, running a hand over my face. “I’ll be back after dinner. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

He didn’t respond, just waved me off as he walked toward his car.

As I headed to my own car, the weight of everything pressed down on me. Nate was right, this wasn’t just about me anymore. If Vince found out about the attempted hit, there’d be hell to pay. And if Y/n’s family got even a hint of the world I was wrapped up in, things could fall apart before they even began.

Tonight wasn’t just a dinner, it was a balancing act. And one wrong step could send everything crashing down.

Y/n’s POV

The smell of garlic and rosemary filled the kitchen as I put the finishing touches on the roast chicken. Cooking wasn’t something I did often, but tonight felt special enough to make the effort. Mom had already filled Dad in on the whole boyfriend meeting the family situation, which saved me from the nerves of breaking the news myself. He didn’t say much when she told him, just gave a nod and asked what time dinner would be ready. Typical Dad.

At 6:15, I sent Chris a quick text:

“Hey, let me know when you’re on the way :)”

I set my phone on the counter and busied myself slicing vegetables for the side dish, trying not to obsess over every little detail. The table was already set, candles in the middle, the good silverware out, and plates that matched that's how much I wanted this to go smoothly.

By the time the clock read 6:30, my phone buzzed.

“On my way.”

I smiled, though a part of me couldn’t help but feel conflicted. My mind drifted back to what Willow had mentioned earlier about the funeral. Chris hadn’t told me about it. He was probably trying to protect me, but it stung a little, knowing he’d gone through such a heavy day without letting me in on it.

I couldn’t shake the guilt, either. Taking him away from Nate on a day like this felt wrong. It hit me then just how serious Chris must be about me. He was choosing to be here, despite everything else going on in his life. That realization made my chest tighten in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

Another buzz pulled me from my thoughts.

“Here.”

I grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe my hands and headed for the front door, my heart thumping a little harder with each step. I took a deep breath, opened it, and there he was, standing on the porch in a black button up shirt and dark jeans, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Hey” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips.

The sight of him took my breath away for a moment. He looked good, better than good, but his eyes were tired, a heaviness lingering behind them that I knew came from the day he’d had. But I don’t think this is the right time to say anything.

“Hi” I said, my voice catching slightly. I cleared my throat and stepped aside to let him in.

“These are for you.” he said, holding out the flowers.

They were simple, red roses. But something about the gesture made my heart flutter.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you” I said, taking them and stepping aside so he could come in.

“Smells amazing in here” he said as he walked into the hallway.

“I decided I’d cook tonight. Felt like the right occasion” I said, trying to sound casual as I led him toward the dining room.

Chris nodded, glancing around the house. “It’s nice. Feels.. homey.”

“It is..” I trailed off, before I started rambling. “Anyway, my parents are in the living room. Ready to meet them?”

He hesitated for half a second, but then he nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

I led him into the living room, where my parents were seated on the couch. Mom stood first, her warm smile instantly breaking the ice.

“You must be Chris” she said, stepping forward to shake his hand.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you” Chris said, his voice steady but polite.

Dad stood next, giving Chris a firm handshake and a nod. “Welcome to the house, son.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As they exchanged pleasantries, I caught a brief flicker of nervousness in Chris’s eyes. He was doing his best, but I could tell this wasn’t easy for him.

“Dinner’s ready” I announced, hoping to move things along. “Let’s eat.”

As we all headed to the table, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at Chris. He’d shown up for me today, even with everything he had going on. And as conflicted as I felt about some of it, one thing was clear, he was trying. For me.

Chris’ POV

By the time I pulled up outside Y/n’s house, my nerves were shot. It wasn’t just the day weighing on me, Danny’s funeral, the whispers, Nate’s rage, but the thought of sitting across from her parents, trying to fit into their polished world, made my stomach churn. I glanced at the flowers in the passenger seat, hoping they’d help me make a good first impression.

The house was cozy but big, sitting on a quiet street that screamed stability and comfort, two things I wasn’t exactly overflowing with. I stepped out of the car, straightened my shirt, and grabbed the flowers, making my way to the door.

Y/n opened the front door, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw me. She looked.. incredible, dressed casually but effortlessly perfect.

“Hey” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I held out the bouquet. “These are for you.”

Her smile widened, and she took the flowers, her fingers brushing mine for a second. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

I stepped inside, instantly hit by the smell of something amazing coming from the kitchen. “Smells incredible in here,” I said, trying to focus on anything other than how my pulse seemed to quicken every time I looked at her.

“I cooked tonight,” she said, leading me toward the dining room. “Figured it was a special occasion.”

“It definitely is,” I said, managing a small smile.

The living room was warm and inviting, her parents sitting on the couch as we walked in. Y/n introduced us, and I reached out to shake her mom’s hand first.

“You must be Chris,” her mom said, her smile kind but curious.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” I replied, feeling a little more at ease.

Her dad stood next, his handshake firm, his eyes sharper. “Welcome to the house, son.”

“Thank you, sir” I said, keeping my tone polite but not too stiff.

After a few minutes of pleasantries, Y/n led us all to the kitchen. The table was set perfectly, and the meal she’d made looked like something straight out of a cookbook. I sat down, feeling a little out of place at the polished table but determined not to show it.

The small talk started as we dug into the food. Her parents asked me the usual questions, where I grew up, what I liked to do, and I tried to answer as smoothly as I could. But the longer we talked, the more I couldn’t help but notice how put together they were. Everything about them, from the way they spoke to the way they carried themselves, screamed stability.

Meanwhile, I felt like a mess, a guy with a patchy past, walking on thin ice between two worlds.

“So” her dad said, setting his fork down and leaning forward slightly. “How did you two meet?”

I glanced at Y/n, and she smiled, stepping in to help me out.

“We met through mutual friends when we were fifteen” she explained. “We hung out a lot that summer, but then we just.. drifted apart.”

“Life happens” her mom said with a nod.

“Exactly” Y/n agreed, her gaze flicking to me as if to say you’re doing great.

And then her dad hit me with it – the question I’d been dreading all night.

“So, Chris” he said, his tone casual but pointed. “What do you do for work?”

For a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I set my glass down carefully, trying to keep my expression neutral.

“I, uh..” I started searching for the right words, the ones that wouldn’t make me sound like a complete disaster.

But what could I say? The truth wasn’t exactly an option, not here. My mind raced, and I glanced at Y/n, hoping for a lifeline.

“Freelance” Y/n said, cutting in before I could respond.

The words hung in the air, and I felt my chest tighten. Ground, swallow me up. It was a good save, sure, but it also stung a little. She knew that was my go to line when I didn’t want to get into details about what I actually do.

“Oh?” Her mom’s eyes lit up with interest, leaning forward slightly. “What kind?”

“Social media marketing” Y/n answered quickly, a polite smile on her lips.

Social media marketing? Jesus Christ. From the man with zero social media presence? I could barely keep my Instagram alive, let alone manage someone else’s.

“That’s fascinating” her mom continued. “I’ve heard it’s a really lucrative field these days.”

“Yeah” I said, clearing my throat and forcing a nod. “It’s definitely.. something.”

I glanced at Y/n, who gave me a subtle look that said just go with it. I appreciated the save, but I couldn’t help feeling like a fish out of water.

Her dad, however, seemed less convinced. He raised an eyebrow, clearly about to ask a follow-up question. “Do you work with specific clients or more general campaigns?”

Before I could stammer out an answer, Y/n swooped in again. “He works on a project basis” she said smoothly. “It’s more flexible that way.”

Her mom smiled, nodding in approval. “That sounds perfect for someone your age. Flexible, creative, it must keep you busy!”

“Oh, yeah. Busy,” I said, forcing a chuckle and taking a long sip of water to hide the fact that I was absolutely dying inside.

The conversation shifted to something else, thank fuck, but I could barely focus. I felt like an imposter sitting at this pristine table, in this perfect house, with these perfect people. Y/n’s parents seemed like the kind of couple who’d had their lives mapped out from day one. Stable careers, a beautiful home, kids who followed the plan.

And then there was me. Barely holding it together, juggling one lie after another just to keep my head above water.

Y/n’s hand brushed against mine under the table, pulling me out of my thoughts. She gave me a small, reassuring squeeze, as if to say it’s okay.

I squeezed back, grateful for her in that moment. Even if I didn’t feel like I belonged here, she was my anchor. I just had to make it through tonight without screwing it all up.

Suddenly, I felt a buzz in my pocket. Crap. My phone.

Y/n clearly felt it too, her hand slipped off my leg, her warmth replaced by a flicker of tension.

It buzzed again. And again.

Each vibration felt louder than the last, rattling through me like an alarm. God, I should’ve just turned it off.

Y/n’s dad looked up from his glass of wine, raising an eyebrow. Her mom followed his gaze, giving me a polite, curious smile. “Popular tonight, aren’t you?” she joked.

“Sorry about that” I muttered, trying to play it off as casually as I could. “It’s nothing important.”

But it kept buzzing. Over and over.

I glanced at Y/n, and her expression had shifted ever so slightly. Not enough for her parents to notice, but enough for me to catch the flicker of suspicion in her eyes.

“Maybe you should check it” Y/n’s dad said, his tone friendly but firm, the kind of tone that wasn’t really a suggestion.

Y/n was already shaking her head, smiling to defuse the situation. “He doesn’t have to, Dad. It’s probably just work stuff.”

“Yeah, work.. It’s nothing urgent. I’ll deal with it later.”

Except the buzzing stopped… only to start up again a second later.

Damn it, whoever it is calling me.

Her dad leaned back in his chair, clearly skeptical. “Must be a busy night in social media marketing” he quipped.

Y/n shot me a look. A small, apologetic one, but it was enough to say you’re making this worse.

I forced a laugh. “You’d be surprised. Campaigns don’t stop, even for dinner.”

“Mm” her dad hummed, still unconvinced.

The buzzing finally stopped, and I let out a silent breath of relief. But the damage was done. I could feel the tension hanging in the air, subtle but heavy.

Y/n’s mom, ever the optimist, changed the subject, steering the conversation back toward lighter topics. But I caught Y/n’s glance again, and this time, it was harder to read.

What was she thinking? Was she mad? Annoyed? Or just worried?

I shifted in my seat, the guilt already clawing at me. The funeral, the whispers of a hit, Nate’s grief, all of it had been piling up in the back of my mind, and now it was bleeding into this moment, ruining the one chance I had to prove to her parents that I could be someone normal. Someone stable.

But normal and stable didn’t come with constant buzzing phones, or lies about jobs, or friends who might not survive the night.

As the conversation went on, I did my best to focus, to smile, to play along. But inside, all I could think about was the messages and calls I knew were waiting for me. And how, once again, the life I was trying so hard to build with Y/n was colliding with the one I couldn’t escape.

As we finished up dessert, I followed Y/n into the kitchen, insisting on helping her with the dishes. Her mom and dad moved to the living room, their voices carrying faintly as they settled into a more relaxed conversation.

I rinsed a plate under the warm stream of water, my mind replaying the awkward moment earlier at the table. “I’m sorry about that job thing” I said, keeping my voice low. “I didn’t mean to put you in that spot. It must’ve been awkward for you.”

Y/n glanced at me, her soft smile instantly putting me at ease. “It’s fine, Chris. Really. They like you, I can tell. Don’t overthink it.”

“I just.. I worry, you know?” I admitted, setting the plate in the drying rack. “They’re so put together, so sure of everything. And I’m just..” I trailed off, shrugging.

She dried her hands and reached out, her touch light against my arm. “You’re you.” she said simply. “And that’s more than enough for me. Trust me, they see that too.”

Her words settled something in me. I leaned down and kissed her gently, feeling the warmth of her reassurance seep into me. But just as the moment softened, I felt it again, the buzz in my pocket.

I pulled back slightly, my stomach knotting as I hoped she hadn’t noticed.

“I think I might need to use the bathroom” I said quickly, my voice steady even as my heart raced.

Y/n didn’t seem suspicious, just gesturing toward the stairs. “There’s one right under there” she said.

I nodded, giving her a small smile before making my way out of the kitchen. My steps felt heavier with every buzz I’d felt on my phone.

Once inside the bathroom, I locked the door and leaned against it, pulling out my phone with shaky hands. The screen was lit up with a mess of notifications, missed calls, unread messages, demands.

Nate:

"Where are you, man?" (47m ago) "We found out who tried to make a hit earlier on. Going to fuck him up." (43m ago)

Vince:"Need you to cover a run. Meet at Dock." (33m ago) "Big hits tonight. Need you now." (29m ago) "?" (22m ago) "You have 30 mins to get here." (3m ago)

Thirty minutes. I had thirty minutes to figure out how the hell to get to the docks without tearing everything apart.

I leaned against the sink, gripping the edge like it might steady me. My chest felt tight, and my mind raced. They didn’t just "ask" for things, especially not Vince. They demanded. And missing a demand didn’t come without consequences.

But this wasn’t just about me. If I bailed tonight, it wouldn’t just be me in trouble. Nate could be left dealing with the fallout alone.

I stared at the mirror. My reflection was a mess of worry and panic. I ran my hands through my hair, took a deep breath, and tried to figure out my next move.

I slipped back out of the bathroom, tucking my phone deep into my pocket like I could bury the problem there. Making my way into the kitchen, I found Y/n putting away plates. She looked so at ease, so normal. I hated how I was about to ruin that.

“Hey” I started, my voice low, “I’m not feeling great. I think I need to head home and sleep this off.”

She turned to me, frowning slightly. “Are you okay? You didn’t seem off earlier.”

“Yeah, it just hit me” I lied, forcing a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to cut the night short.”

I could see the disappointment in her eyes, but she covered it quickly with a soft smile. “It’s okay” she said. “Dad’s already passed out in a food coma, so I doubt he’ll even notice.” She paused, searching my face. “You sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need some rest.”

She reached out, brushing her hand against my arm. “Alright. Go home and feel better, okay?”

I leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss, lingering just a moment longer than I should’ve. Part of me didn’t want to leave her, but I knew I had no choice.

I slipped into the living room to say goodbye to her mom, who was already halfway through a glass of wine. “Thanks for having me, Mrs. Y/l/n” I said, keeping my tone as polite as I could manage.

“Of course, Chris. See you soon!” she replied with a warm smile.

I walked out of the house, the cool night air hitting me like a slap. My chest felt heavy, but my feet moved fast. I wasn’t ready for this, none of it. Not Nate’s vengeance. Not Vince’s demands. Not the lies I was weaving into my time with Y/n.

As I got into my car, I stared at my phone again. Thirty minutes. Less, now.

I didn’t even start the engine before slamming my fist against the steering wheel.

“What the fuck am I doing?” I muttered to myself.

I had no answer. Only more questions, and no time to figure them out.

With a deep breath, I started the car and pulled onto the road. I wasn’t ready, but readiness didn’t matter anymore. It never did in this life.

a/n: its become more and more obvious to me that im shadow banned so i appreciate everyones interactions 🥲🥲

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside

[yuwuta]

Wait. what do u think about katsuki bc I’d love to hear it all

i think everything about him all the time for like the past two months it’s insane…. he occupied so much space in my mind so quickly…. i fear i love that little pomeranian…

mostly been thinking about a roommate au w him because he can simultaneously be the best and worst person to live with. a pro like him doesn’t need a roommate, but he doesn’t trust you living alone (translation: what kinda hero would he be if he can’t even take care of you?). he’s structured, and tidy, and cooks well, and has decent taste in decor and furniture so that would all be good and fine. he seems like he does most of the labor, and when there are tasks to split, he does them with you. he can be loud and annoying and bothersome, but it’s really just how he cares. when he really needs to be, he’s quite gentle so it all balances out

he gets up pretty early to go for a run or to the gym or to train. he’s always awake before you, so it’s probably not uncommon for you to wake up later in the morning and see a sweaty katsuki making breakfast or sipping on a smoothie and mocking you for finally joining the land of the living. when you don’t wake up by the time he’s done with breakfast, he’s not above doing it himself. and he is far from gentle, he will drag you by the ankles if he has to. like hell is he gonna make all that food and watch it go to waste, nor is he going to watch you waste your day away (see: more katsuki speak for he actually likes spending time with you, and it’s hard to do that when you’re dead to the world). he’s scared the shit of you knocking outside your bedroom window at 11am while he’s supposed to be patrolling, but you weren’t answering your phone and you’re not getting away with sleeping until noon if he can help it. 

he does a lot of dragging you around with him. he claims it’s because he doesn’t wanna be held responsible if you shrivel up in your room alone—his friends tell you that’s how he cares; by taking care of you. he brings you with him to the grocery store, to the dry cleaners; makes his way into your car when you say you have your own errands to run. complains about your shit parallel parking but offers to wait in the car for you so you don’t get a ticket. he makes you lunch to bring to work, and scolds you when you come home and the vegetables are still in there, then makes you sit at the counter like a child while he watches with crossed arms as you’re forced to eat them 🙄 scoffing, “‘m not gonna blend up your cauliflower like some kinda baby. wasn’t so hard was it?” 

he’s a hypocrite, too 🙄 he misses a lot of your phone calls when he’s actively working—to his credit, he does reply, just usually a little after the fact—but he loses his shit when he calls you and you don’t pick up. it makes him pack up whatever he was doing and go over to your job and ask for you. imagine the surprise of the receptionist in your office when katsuki arrives as dynamight for the first time, hero gear on and all, grumbling about how he’s looking for you and he’ll blow this place up if he doesn’t get some answers soon. you have to calm him down and reassure your co-workers that he means well, dragging him by the ear into your office and asking him what the hell his problem is. he’s a lost cause by then, wandering around your office with confidence like it’s his, critiquing your decor and scolding you for not picking up the phone—and pausing when his eyes drift over to a wall collage of pictures of you and your friends and your family and some schmuck he doesn’t recognize with his arm around you in what is clearly a very grainy selfie. when he asks who it is and you jokingly respond that he’s your work husband, something shifts inside of katsuki… and now, suddenly, your lunches are hand-delivered at noon on the dot by dynamight himself, every day without fail… 

[bullet-prooflove]

@noxytopy I spent four years working/baby sitting a guy who had the illness. His family owned the company I worked for and because I was good with people and a calming influence they'd leave him with me to 'keep an eye on him' and they would never tell me when he was off his meds. I would realise because of his behaviour and notify them and they'd be like oh yea we know. I was put in a lot of unsafe situations because of this.

He had massive substance abuse issues and was highly erratic. When he did coke, which was often it would negate the effects of the court mandated medication he was supposed to have so he'd go into a spiral.

The other problem was, he was extremely clever so when they did get him sectioned and I mean lock down sectioned, he would escape because he would fashion tools out of stuff like the interior railing of a sliding drawer and use it to jimmy the window panel and leave through the window.

He had major issues with authority figures so he had multiple arrests for smacking police men. There's a shit load of other dangerious shit he did too but he always a avoided a prison sentence because his family really played up the mentally ill card (which he was) but they also enabled some of his behaviour too. By the end of my tenure there, they were completely at their wits end and just let him get on with it. When he was medicated he used to spend all day gambling, smoking and drinking fizzy drinks because he was in withdrawl from the coke. Noone really knew what to do with him because he didn't help himself even when he was in a more lucid mindset.

Because we spent alot of time together and I was a reasurring presence he came to trust me, so even when he was at the height of some of his delusions he'd be like I'm gonna give all this secret government info to you incase I go missing. The info was literally him typing on a message board he'd made to himself but he thought he was hacking the govementment and controlling the banks.

In a way it was endearing, but at the same time he presented a very real danger because he wasn't in control of himself, he'd come back from the bathroom high and I'd be like guys he's just done a line in the bathroom, his pupils are huge and he's telling me how he's travelling through a portal to kill Hitler do you wanna do something about that, like take him home? And they'd be like 'nah he's cool with you, we need to work on this proposal' - that I was completing anyway.

Wow typing this back is nuts to me back I didn't even realise the madness of some of the situations I was in at the time, it became so normalised. This isn't even half the insane shit he got up to.

Eddie Diaz - pumpkin 🎃 snake 🐍 heart ❤️

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @tigolebittiez @mckinleysbones @totalstitchlover19

Companion piece to:

Box Breathing - Eddie's been struggling since Christopher left.

Always - You make a promise to Eddie.

Real - Eddie tells you he wants something real.

A Future With You - Eddie makes a realisation during a one on one game of basketball.

Cash - Eddie discovers your secret Instagram profile.

You have a thing about snakes, you always have. It’s an innate, bone deep, primal fear that alleviates all of your irrationally. Eddie discovers this when you open up an orange and black gift box with pumpkins on and you let out the most ungodly scream he’s ever heard. It echoes through the entire fire station as you hurl the box over the balcony and Eddie watches it hurtle through the air, the snake sailing out of the box before it completely disappears from view.

The look on your face in that moment, he’ll never forget it.

It takes them over two hours to find that snake nestled up against the hot pipe in the bathroom. You spend that entire time bundled up on the roof, refusing to come down until it’s been removed from the premises.

It’s Eddie that finally approaches you, Eddie that brings you his quilted jacket because the temperature is starting to drop and he doesn’t want you to freeze to death. You’re trembling when he drapes it around your shoulders and he knows that it has nothing to do with the cold.

“I had my ex sectioned last Halloween.” You tell him as you sit on a lawn chair, your hands wrapped around a fresh mug of tea that Buck had deposited by the door. “He was schizophrenic and when he was on his meds it was great but when he wasn’t…”

You trail off because you don’t want to go into all of that, the hallucinations, the erratic behaviour, the violence…

It was never intentional, always in the throes of a break, but the bruises the next day, the fear for your safety it was very real.

“One of his things was symbols, he used to see them in everything, clouds, puddles, oil stains. He also used them a lot, sometimes as love notes, sometimes as threats.”

“Is that what that was tonight?” Eddie asks you gently as he leans forward in his chair, studying you. “A threat?”

“No.” You say quietly, your thumbs tracing lightly over the glazed pattern on the mug. “Snakes, they mean eternal love. It’s his way of saying that he’s still in love with me, that he wants me to come home.”

“Is that what you want?” Eddie asks you, his voice a little rough. “To go back home, to be with him?”

“No.” You tell Eddie, your gaze flickering up to meet his. “You’re the only one that has my heart Eddie, you should know that by now.”

Love Eddie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[jottingprosaist]

Took a sick day today because I felt like microwaved garbage yesterday afternoon... then woke up feeling pretty all right, actually. Spent a while in bed with the cats wondering what I'd be doing with my unexpected free day off.

Turns out, what my brain really wanted to do with a healthy body and a responsibility-free day was clean the house and cook for 8 hours. No, really.

I juiced some oranges and a lemon that were going bad and made a big pot of spiced tea, then zested the peels and baked a lil cranberry orange scone for breakfast. I took all the celery trimmings from cooking class and put them in a pot to make some vegetable stock, and while that was simmering I looked around the kitchen and decided to mop the floor. While it was drying, I grabbed the vacuum and did a thorough job on the rest of the house, finally including under the couch. (Gross. GROSS. Dust bunny civilizations.)

I damp-dusted and threw out so much cat hair. Washed the bathroom walls and baseboards. Scrubbed under the tub mat. Took a break for tea. Strained the veggie stock and threw in some carrots and onions for soup. About this time, my friend dropped off some groceries after work and I had supper.

The discount produce box I bought gave me a ton of red peppers, so now I'm gonna roast and jar 'em. (If nothing else, buying discount produce has given me a huge appreciation for old methods of preserving fresh food-- anything to extend its lifespan and keep it in tasty condition for later.)

Now some knitting and youtube, I think, because I am secretly 80 years old. I do need those new gloves sooner than later though.

Meanwhile, the cats have been synchronized napping all day 🥹

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

it sucks that so much of my family has also dealt with cancer but it's really lovely that they were able to give me warnings about things

[front-facing-pokemon]

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

.

[readymades2002]

if i might bitch about work for a second: yesterday was hellishly bad despite being able to keep up with it and i found out that apparently our department made 4600 dollars yesterday which is making me angry beyond belieffffffff

[triglycercule]

i WAS gonna complain about horror being a skeleton and therefore never able to do the akanbe face but then i remembered. i'm an artist!! i can just DRAW him doing it 😇😇😇 ok but he doesn't have eyelids iKNOW ill figure it out ok

[exopelagic]

okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool

[doom-dreaming]

how do i tell my mother that coming into my room calling me "lazybones" if i'm still in bed at any time past 7 a.m. for YEARS has done near-irreparable damage to my self-esteem and created shame about being able to just fucking relax?

[ashtcnirwin]

🌻

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[koi-fish-boy]

My limbs were bandage city today y'all I kept gettin hurt 😭

First I accidentally burned my leg w a drill. I just finished using it and was checking the hole and accidentally brought it too close to my leg

Then I nicked my knuckle on some semi circle thing trynna get it off something else, forgot what it was called. But I bled a bunch and had to get a bandaid :P

After that I stabbed my finger with some wire on accident. It's like the cable thing that's made up of a bunch of tiny metal wire strung together I also forgot what that was called but I bled again!

Then I scratched my knee on the back of a hammer and, guess what? I bled again!

And when I got home the remains of a blister fell off and left me with just a hole in my heel so that kinda sucks :P