#if i wanted to work in a restaurant i would skip school and just. go work in a restaurant bc the experience is much better

[ceyanabbiolo]

CONTRACT // C.S [14]

Summary: Christopher Sturniolo, a 26-year-old billionaire CEO, agrees to a strategic marriage with Aurora Devereaux, the 21-year-old daughter of his rival, to save his company during a crisis. Raised in a cold, arrogant environment, Chris is used to control and detachment. Aurora, a final-year fashion student, is forced into the arrangement by her powerful father and struggles with the fear of losing herself. As the two navigate their unexpected marriage, they begin to confront emotional walls and develop a connection that challenges everything they thought they knew about love and trust. But with their families’ influence looming, will their bond be strong enough to survive—or will it fall apart?

Warnings: smut. (fingering, blowjob, humping, making out). slight angst. crying.

wc: 5883

Chapter 14: We Can Meddle About

Chris and I had spent five unforgettable days in Greece. Tomorrow morning at 10 AM, we’ll be flying back.

New Year’s Eve was something out of a dream—we spent the countdown in Fira, the capital, surrounded by lights and music in the town square. Everything shimmered with celebration, but all I remembered was holding his hand as fireworks burst in the sky above us.

New Year’s Day was quieter. We stayed at the villa, curled up on the couch, watching movies, trading lazy kisses, and simply existing in each other’s warmth. I hadn’t felt that kind of peace in a long time. Not with everything going on.

For our final night, Chris had brought us to Lycabettus Restaurant. We sat on the open-air terrace, the Aegean Sea stretching into darkness just beyond the cliffs. The restaurant's golden lights cast a warm glow around us, and the soft sound of waves below filled the silence between bites.

I glanced across the table at him, that familiar, relaxed look on his face. “I don’t want to leave yet,” I admitted softly, resting my chin in my palm. “This trip felt like hitting pause on everything else.”

Chris let out a low chuckle from across the table. “As much as I hate to disappoint you, ma, I think it’s time we have to head back.”

“I know,” I sighed, offering a mock pout. “Real life’s waiting to punch us in the face.”

“Maybe…” I started, tracing the rim of my glass. “Maybe we can come back. Again. Just us.”

Chris’s fingers brushed mine again, slower this time. “Maybe… after the wedding,” he said, voice quiet but deliberate.

I blinked, looking up at him. “After the wedding?”

He held my gaze. “Yeah. Maybe we can come back then. No pressure”

“Chris,” I said, tilting my head at him. “That’s five months away.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah? So?” He leaned back, fingers still lightly tracing mine. “It’ll go by fast. You’ve got your show coming up, then school wraps up... and then it’s us.”

There was a strange comfort in how he said it—like everything that felt so uncertain could still fall into place. I let out a breath. “Five months isn’t that long when you say it like that.”

I wasn’t going to lie, I was everywhere in my mind. The reality of this trip was that it was only a momentary escape. 

I looked back up at Chris, a certain question floating in my mind—one I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to.

“Can I ask you something?” I said quietly.

He met my eyes, his expression softening. “Of course.”

I hesitated, chewing on the inside of my cheek. “I know we like each other now. I mean… we’re close, and it’s real, but—” I paused, searching his face. “Do you actually think this is going to work? Like… in the long run?”

His brows furrowed, clearly caught off guard. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

I looked away, letting out a soft breath. “I mean, if this were a regular relationship-no, no contract, no engagement deal—would we even be this far in? We'd probably still be in the early stages. Figuring things out. Instead, we're getting married in five months. Sometimes I wonder if we skipped the part where people actually decide if they’re right for each other.”

Chris didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened just slightly, and he leaned back in his chair, eyes flickering over me like he was trying to read between every word I’d just said.

“So… what are you saying?” he asked finally, voice low. “That you’re not happy? Do you want out?”

My heart sank a little. “No—no, Chris. That’s not what I’m saying.”

I reached across the table, my fingers brushing his. “I’m not saying I want out. I’m just being honest. I care about you. A lot. But sometimes I think about how fast all of this is moving. And how much of it was decided before we even had the chance to just… be. Us.” 

Chris leaned forward, his voice suddenly hard. “Aurora, I need you to get something straight.”

His tone made me sit up a little.

“I don’t give a damn how this started,” he said, eyes sharp. “You think I’m here playing fiancé because of a contract? No. I don’t waste my time like that.”

I opened my mouth, but he didn’t let me.

“Maybe at first, sure. It was nothing, but now? I’m in it, and I’m not the type to half-ass something once I’m in. So, no—I don’t sit around wondering if this is gonna work. I’ve already decided it will.”

He paused, jaw tight. “You don’t have to feel the same. But don’t question where I stand.”

I could see his whole demeanour change, and it made me suddenly regret my question, and I felt uncomfortable. 

“I didn’t say I don’t feel the same way…” I mumbled, eyes fixed on my lap.

Chris didn’t respond.

I heard him call the waiter over and quietly ask for the bill. A few moments later, he stood up and told me we were leaving.

Earlier, I’d thought about suggesting we walk back to the villa—just to soak in our last night here. But now, I kept that to myself. All I wanted was to get back and disappear into a dark room somewhere.

I didn’t fully understand why he got so worked up. But deep down, I knew—Chris hated having his loyalty questioned, especially by people he cared about.

The car ride was quiet. I kept my eyes out the window while he stayed on his phone. At one point, I peeked over and saw he was texting one of his brothers—probably Matt, judging by the name at the top of the screen.

My fingers were fiddling with the edge of my dress, heart heavier than I wanted to admit. I wasn’t trying to upset him. I just wanted to know where we stood—for real. 

When we got back to the villa, Chris paused near the entrance, turning to me briefly. His expression was unreadable.

“I’m heading to bed,” he said flatly. “Make sure you’ve got everything packed for tomorrow.”

Before I could respond, he was already walking away, disappearing down the hall to his room. No goodnight. No glance back. Just silence and distance.

I stood there for a moment, letting the quiet settle around me before dragging myself to my room. I peeled off my dress and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water roll over me, hoping it would wash away the tight knot in my chest. It didn’t.

Afterward, I slipped into a thin silk nightgown and towel-dried my hair before settling into bed. I picked up the book I’d brought for the trip—a romance novel I’d been looking forward to for weeks—but the words blurred together, refusing to hold my attention.

Every few seconds, my eyes flicked to the door. Waiting. Wondering.

Was he still mad? Would he even come talk to me tonight? Was I overthinking everything? Fuck. 

I had half-expected him to come into my room tonight, like he had for the past three nights, but the villa was too quiet now, too vast and empty. It felt cold in a way that the warm Greek air outside couldn't touch. I set the book down on the nightstand, my mind far too restless to focus on anything.

I tossed and turned, staring at the ceiling, trying to push thoughts of Chris out of my head. But the more I tried, the more they lingered. Eventually, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore—I needed to see him.

I threw the covers off and stood up, walking down the hall to his room. My heart was pounding, and I hesitated just outside his door. After a few moments of uncertainty, I knocked softly.

"Chris?" I called quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

There was no answer.

I knocked again, louder this time.

"Chris?" I repeated.

Still nothing.

I stood there for a moment, defeated, my hand lingering on the doorknob. What had I expected? That he would be waiting for me on the other side, ready to pick up where we left off? I sighed, turning to walk back down the hall.

But just as I took a few steps, I heard it—my name.

"Aurora."

I turned, startled by the sound of his voice. Chris stood in the doorway, wearing a grey sweater over a plain black tee, his hair still damp from a recent shower. He looked tired, but something about his eyes told me he hadn’t been sleeping much either.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze drifting over me, searching. “Do you need something?”

I shifted on my feet, suddenly unsure of why I’d even come. “No. I’m fine,” I mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, my voice quieter than I intended.

He raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t look like it.”

I looked down, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my sleeve. “I just couldn’t sleep. That’s all.”

A beat passed between us, heavy but not tense. I could feel his eyes still on me.

“Come here,” he said quietly, gesturing with a tilt of his head.

I walked over slowly, stopping just a few inches from the wall, unsure of what to expect.

After a beat, I finally asked, “Are you mad at me?”

Chris looked at me—looked—and I caught the slight flare in his nostrils before he exhaled through his nose.

“No, ma,” he said, voice firm. “I’m not mad.”

“Really? You seemed pretty upset earlier,” I added, trying to get him to open up.

“Yeah,” he said bluntly. “I was.”

I waited, but he didn’t leave it there this time.

“I just don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head. “Why is it you are always having second thoughts?”

My brows pulled together. “It’s not—Chris, I’m not having second thoughts.”

“Yes, you are,” he snapped, not angrily, but with a kind of heat that made me straighten.

“You said it yourself—‘Do you actually think this is going to work?’ That’s not nothing, Aurora. That’s you doubting us. Again.”

I opened my mouth, but he didn’t give me time.

“You always act like I’m the one who kept pulling away, who was unsure—but now that I’ve made up my damn mind, now that I’m actually here, it’s like you’re the one constantly questioning everything. Me, this engagement, if we’re real.”

His jaw tightened, chest rising and falling heavier now.

“I don’t get it,” he said again, quieter this time, but with more weight. “You wanted me to care. You wanted me to choose you. I did. But the second I do, you start pulling back.”

“I’m not pulling back, Chris…I just wanted to know,” I said, my voice quieter than before, hands slightly shaking at my sides.

He stared at me, unmoving. The space between us felt dense, like even the air was holding its breath.

“Know what?” he asked, his voice low but sharp. “That I’m not gonna leave? That I’m not faking this? That I’m not just in this because someone told me to be?”

I swallowed hard, unable to answer fast enough.

“Because if you don’t know that by now, I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

My chest tightened. “That’s not what I meant,” I murmured.

His eyes were colder now, less soft, less patient. “Then what did you mean?”

I looked away, focusing on a spot on the floor, trying to find the right words.

“I just—I’ve never had something like this,” I said. “Not something that feels like it could actually matter, and it scares me that maybe I’m the one who’ll ruin it.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then he stepped closer, not touching me, but close enough that I felt the heat off him.

“You’re not the one ruining it,” he said, voice low and tense. “But you questioning me like that? It makes me feel like I’m the only one all in.”

I looked up at him finally, eyes meeting his.

“You’re not,” I whispered, barely getting the words out as the weight of everything crashed into me. My chest tightened, and before I could stop them, the tears started slipping down my cheeks—slow, quiet, stubborn.

Chris noticed instantly. His expression shifted, the tension in his jaw easing as he reached out and gently cupped my cheek. His thumb brushed away a tear, his eyes fixed on mine with a quiet intensity, no longer guarded—just open.

“What do you want, Aurora?” he asked, voice low but firm. “Do you want to be with me?”

I looked up at him through glassy eyes, my breath caught in my throat. My lips trembled as I tried to respond, but all I could do was shake my head at first—not in denial, but in disbelief at how much I did. Then the words finally broke free.

“Yes,” I said, my voice breaking. “I do.”

Chris’s grip on my face tightened just slightly—not in anger, but to anchor me there, to make sure I didn’t look away.

“Okay then,” he said quietly, wiping away the remaining tears with his thumb. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek, “Be with me,” he murmured against my cheek.

I nodded, barely, my breath hitching. I looked at him, really looked at his steady gaze, the tension still resting in his shoulders, the way he was holding back.

Chris leaned in, kissing me slowly—softly, and deliberate, like he wanted to make sure I felt every second of it. His lips moved against mine with a kind of patience that made my chest ache, as if he was trying to say everything he couldn’t with words.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths mixing in the stillness between us.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, voice low but serious.

I looked up at him, surprised by the question. His eyes searched mine, steady and intense, like he needed the truth more than anything else.

“I do,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I really do.”

He nodded once, his hand still resting at the back of my neck. “Then stop fighting me,” he said. “Stop pulling away every time.”

I blinked slowly, the sting of his words lingering, but not in a cruel way. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. He was asking me to meet him where he was, to stop hesitating.

“I’m not trying to fight you,” I said.

His lips found mine again—firmer this time. No hesitation. Just him and me, like the weight of everything had finally been shaken off, even if only for tonight. I kissed him back, letting myself fall into it. Into him. 

His hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me impossibly closer, while his other arm wrapped around my waist, holding me firm against him.

I melted into it, my fingers gripping the front of his sweater. His kiss deepened, rougher around the edges now, like he couldn’t get enough. His mouth trailed down to my jaw, slow and hot, then to the curve of my neck, leaving a trail of heat behind.

“Chris…” I breathed, my voice barely a whisper.

He paused for half a second, his mouth hovering near my skin, chest rising and falling fast. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, voice hoarse, lips brushing against my collarbone.

I shook my head, the words catching in my throat. “Don’t.”

That was all it took.

He pulled away for a moment, his breathing still heavy, then took my hand firmly in his.

Without a word, he led me out of the hallway and down the stairs, his grip never loosening. The villa was dim, quiet—only the soft hum of the waves outside filled the silence.

“Where are we going?” I asked, glancing at him as we stepped into the living room.

“My bed’s a mess,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a faint smirk. “I was packing.”

Before I could react, he guided me toward the large lounge chair facing the glass doors that looked out at the sea. With one gentle push, I landed against the cushions, big enough for both of us. The cool fabric contrasts with the heat rushing up my neck.

He hovered above me, eyes darker now, jaw tight.

“Here’s better,” he muttered, before leaning down again—this time, slower. More deliberate.

He leaned over, hands on either side of me, “You’re driving me insane, you know that?”

His gaze dropped, lingering for a moment where the hem of my nightgown had ridden up, just high enough to reveal the curve of my thighs and the soft lace of my underwear.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So you don’t wear anything under these little gowns,” he murmured, voice low, teasing.

He leaned in, his hand grazing the bare skin just above my knee. “I always wondered. You walking around the house like that—had me guessing since the first night you moved in.”

His words sent a heat rushing up my spine, especially when his fingers traced along the edge of the fabric.

“And I like it,” he muttered, brushing his lips against mine again. 

My body was starting to get this needy feeling, the same one I felt a week ago, the first time Chris went down on me.

He sat up slightly, his eyes trailing down the length of me. He took his shirt off, probably for more comfort. Gosh…he was hot. 

“Take it off,” he said, voice low.

I looked up at him, caught off guard. “What?” A slow, lazy grin pulled at his lips. “Your gown. Take it off.”

“I–” my cheeks turned red. I didn’t have anything on other than my underwear. I don't wear a bra to sleep. 

“I’ve already seen most of you, beautiful,” he said, lifting the hem of my gown slightly. “No need to be shy.”

I shifted, tucking my feet beneath me as I slowly rose to my knees. My eyes stayed on his while his gaze stayed locked on mine. I lifted the gown over my body, pulling it off in one motion. Now bare, my chest exposed, I watched as his eyes finally dropped. 

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” I asked, instinctively covering myself, a sudden wave of insecurity washing over me.

Chris immediately reached for my wrists, gently pulling my hands back down. 

“Don’t ever hide yourself from me, Aurora,” he said, his voice firm but low.

He leaned in, kissing along my collarbone, then lower, his lips lingering just above my chest.

“May I?” he asked, eyes flicking up to meet mine—asking for permission.

I gave a small nod, breath caught in my throat, and the moment his mouth met my tits, a quiet moan escaped me.

A stray thought crossed my mind—God, this would feel amazing during my period.

Chris leaned down, placing a final kiss on each of my tits. Next, he removed my underwear and put it to the side. My wetness on display for him–my inner thighs sleek with arousal. 

Chris suddenly pulled back slightly, his hand still wrapped around mine. I looked up at him, confused. He held my gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Touch yourself”, he said, his voice low but steady. “Show me what feels good to you.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his request. “Chris,” I said with a nervous laugh, unsure if he was serious.

But his expression didn’t change—there was no teasing in his eyes, only quiet patience. “Show me what you do when you’re alone,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand. “At night, when it’s just you.”

A flush crept up my cheeks. I looked down, then back up at him. He placed my hand on my chest, slowly dragging it down my lying body. His gaze never leaves mine. 

He guided our joined hands down slowly, stopping just at the center of me. My breath hitched when he pressed my palm gently against myself. The warmth of my touch startled me—and yet, his steady presence beside me grounded the moment.

Chris didn’t say anything, but the way he was watching me—attentive, calm—gave me a quiet confidence. I didn’t feel embarrassed. I didn’t feel pressured. I felt…understood.

So I didn’t pull away. I let myself keep going. 

I felt the pressure buildup in me. My eyes started to shut on their own, but from the slight opening I was able to see Chris looking down at my hands moving. 

My legs started trembling, a familiar sensation down from my stomach. I needed something more. 

“C–Chris…” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper as my hand slowed, finally stopping. “I–I need you.”

He looked up at me then, eyes dark but focused entirely on my face.

“You need me, ma?” he murmured, his voice low and deliberate.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he gently took my fingers and brought them to his mouth, tasting the traces of me with a quiet kind of reverence that sent a shiver down my spine.

He placed his hands on me, finally. I let out a soft moan of pleasure when his slightly rough hands moved down to my aching clit. He slowly rubbed his thumb in circles. 

“o-oh my gosh…Chris,” I let out a whimper, my back arching off the lounge chair. 

He stopped rubbing but instead took his index finger and put the tip of it into me, “This good?” he asked. I nodded, and he shoved the whole thing into me. 

I let out a cry of pleasure, his finger inside my walls feels amazing. 

His fingers started to pump in and out of me, stretching my walls out perfectly–hitting all the right spots.   “Feel good, princess?” He asked, his free hand caressing the side of my thighs. 

I couldn’t speak, I just started to nod frantically, whispering to him to go faster. 

I felt the knot start to form in my stomach. 

“G-gonna cum..” I managed to speak despite the pleasure. My back arched against the lounge chair, and I felt the knot in my stomach feel like it was about to burst.

Chris’s fingers moved with unrelenting precision, and the moment he murmured, “Let go for me, baby,” I shattered beneath his touch. 

My orgasm came crashing. The feeling is making me stutter. 

I let a minute go by, letting the feeling subside. I felt amazing. His touch was amazing. 

“You okay princess?” he asked me, his voice caring. I nodded, feeling the comfort and warmth of his embrace.

I nodded, my eyes drifting from his face down to the outline beneath his pants.

Chris started to move off me, but I gently caught his hand.

“You’re forgetting something,” I murmured, glancing downward.

His eyes followed mine, and a gentle smile tugged at his lips. “I didn’t forget anything.”

“Then let me,” I said, my voice soft but steady as a wave of confidence rolled over me. I reached for the hem of his sweats, pulling him gently back toward me.

Chris caught my hand, stopping me with a quiet firmness. “You don’t have to, Aurora.”

“I want to,” I replied, gently moving his hand away.

He exhaled, his resistance faltering. “Aurora…” he said again, but this time it came out more like a breath than a warning—like he was trying to convince himself.

I pulled his pants and reassured him, “It's okay”. 

 He nodded slowly, his breathing deepening, the tension between us thick in the air.

“Okay then,” he murmured, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Stand up.”

I rose to my feet, facing him, our eyes locked for a moment until he sank back into the chair.

His hand rested gently on my shoulder, guiding me downward with quiet intent until I was kneeling in front of him, heart racing.

He slowly lowered his boxers, and when he was fully exposed, my breath caught in my throat. Oh my…he was well, bigger than I expected. Like big, big. His pre-cum was evident at the top. When I looked up, he was already smirking, clearly amused by my reaction. That tease. “Go on, baby,” he said, stroking himself a few times before letting his hand fall away. “Show me how you want to help me.”

My fingers tremble slightly as I touch him, my hands wrap around him, fingers struggling with his skin to properly hold his girth. I was slightly unsure what to do, still being new to this all. 

Chris groans sharply, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

“Here,” he rasps, his voice strained “move your hands up and down for me”. 

I did as he said. 

His head falls back slightly, his thighs flexing, and his hands struggling to hold onto the lounge chair.

“Fuck….y-yes that’s it, ma.”

I watched him curiously. I’ve never seen Chris like this before. In a way, him being in this flushed state made him even more handsome. 

Chris groans again, his head tilting back further, his body tensing beneath my touch. 

“Go a bit…faster,” he muttered, his voice low and uneven. I hesitated, my thoughts suddenly catching up with me. My hands paused, unsure.

Chris looked down at me, his brows furrowing in concern. “Hey… everything okay?” he asked. “Do you want to stop? Because that’s fine–”

I cut him off and quickly shook my head. “No, it’s not that”. 

Hesitated, then looked up at him, nervous but honest. “I just… wanted to ask if you wanted me to…You know, use my mouth?”

His gaze flicked up to meet mine, surprise flashing in his eyes, but it quickly turned into a smirk. 

“Are you asking to blow me off, sweetheart?”

I nodded twice, shyly. 

“Only if you want to, ma.”

I swallow, heat curling into my stomach. Chris looked wrecked and desperate. 

I looked up at him.

“Tell me how to do it,” I said, shyly leaning down to press a few gentle kisses on his tip, his thighs clenched. 

“Fuck.”

I parted my lips and inserted him slightly into my mouth. His skin pre-cum hits my tongue. 

“Good, beautiful,” he murmurs. “Now, hollow your cheeks for me, and go down a bit more.”

I do as he says, taking him a little deeper, my tongue swirled around, trying to experiment. Chris’s hips jerked forward instantly at that, a hiss escaped his lips.

We began to find a rhythm, and with every passing second, I felt myself growing more comfortable. That heat, that familiar ache, started to stir in me again. Without thinking, I shifted slightly, subtly grinding against the back of my heel for some relief.

Chris noticed instantly. His hand reached out, gently but firmly tugging at my nipple, drawing a gasp from me. “Don’t do that, baby,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Right now, I want you focused here.”

I nod and he lets out a low chuckle, his thumb tracing my lower part of my breast, before letting you continue.

I started to move my hands and my mouth against him now. 

“Fuckk, sweetheart- ”

His lips parted, his fingers tilting my chin up slightly, a deep, strangled groan slipped past Chris’s lips as he watched me swallow him. 

“My beautiful fiance…you were–urgh–made for me.” 

He says, suddenly thrusting himself slowly into my mouth, while I was still working on him as well. 

His fingers flex on my jaw, his chest panting. “I’m-I’m gonna cum, ma…f-fuck.” 

“Take your mouth off–Aurora…I’m gonna cum into y-you”. 

I didn’t though, I kept my mouth on him, and sucked harder, just like how he’d go faster on me when I said I was close. 

It worked because with a sharp whimper, he came hard into my mouth. His cum released into my mouth and I swallowed what I could, the rest dripped down the side of my mouth. 

Chris took his hand and wiped it, shoving it back into my mouth. 

“My perfect girl,” he said, watching me, while he was still subsided from his orgasm. 

His striking blue eyes flicked between my face and the way I was still kneeling. For a moment, we just stayed there, the air thick with tension. I shifted slightly, and Chris noticed again.

“Come here, baby,” he said softly, his voice firm but gentle.

He leaned back into the lounge chair, eyes still on me as he waited. Slowly, he reached for my hand.

“Get up,” he said, pulling me gently.

I rose to my feet, and he guided me to sit with him, pulling me into his lap. I was straddling him, his hands steady on my waist, his gaze searching mine.  

“You still need me, huh?” he asked teasingly. I nodded immediately. 

I saw him take him still hard dick, and bent it onto his chest and looked up at me. 

“Sit on it,” he said, nudging me forward. I did just that. 

“Now move, back and forth, baby.”

I slowly started to grind my pussy onto his dick. The sensation immediately hit me, and it seemed to hit Chris too. His legs jerk a bit. He put his hands on my hips, moving me himself. 

One hand came up to gently cradle my jaw. “My beautiful fiancée,” he murmured.

The words settled into my chest, heavier than I expected—warm and intimate. A knot twisted low in my stomach, not just from the way our bodies were pressed so closely, but from the weight of those words alone. 

I looked down at him, and a quiet wave of admiration began to rise in me. There was something in the way he held me—steady, patient, unwavering—that made me feel safe. With Chris, I never felt judged or rushed. When we weren’t fighting, he was my calm, my grounding force. That moment, I realized how deeply grateful I was that he always let me move at my own pace.

“I’m gonna cum a-again Chris” I started to move faster and he started to jutt me against him faster. 

“Come with me sweetheart”, he said, his voice just as wrecked. 

In a few moments, we both unraveled together, our moans tangled in the quiet air between us. My hands pressed gently against his chest as I tried to steady my breathing, heart still racing. Chris’s release squirted onto his chest. 

A minute passed in silence, our bodies slowly coming down from the high. He reached over to the small table beside the lounge chair, grabbing a tissue and wiping himself clean. 

Then, without a word, he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me gently into his chest, cradling me against him. His hand traced slow circles along my back, and I let myself melt into the safety of his hold.

Chris’s fingers moved gently through my hair, his other arm still wrapped around my waist. I could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, grounding me.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing my temple.

I nodded against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the soft thrum of his voice vibrate beneath my cheek. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

He smiled, I could feel it more than see it. “You wore me out too, ma,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But I got you.”

Neither of us said anything for a moment. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was warm. Full. His heartbeat thudded steadily beneath my cheek, grounding me in a way nothing else could.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and soft.

I smiled against his chest. “I like it like this.”

“Yeah?” His hand paused, then resumed its slow path across my back. “Me too.”

I felt him rub slow circles onto my back. My breathing started to be normal again. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” he murmured, “Did I hurt you at all?”

I shook my head. “No, not at all.”

Chris shifted slightly beneath me, his fingers gently brushing my back. “Come on, baby,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I hummed sleepily in protest, not wanting to leave the comfort of his chest just yet.

He smiled softly, then reached over the side of the couch and grabbed the thick throw blanket draped there. Without a word, he sat up and carefully wrapped it around me, tucking it snugly under my arms, covering me. 

I looked up at him, my heart squeezing at how gentle he was. He held out his hand, waiting for me to take it.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he added with a small smirk, “before we fall asleep like this and wake up glued to each other.”

I let out a quiet laugh and took his hand, still wrapped tightly in the blanket. He led me toward the bathroom in his room. His other hand on my back the entire way—protective, warm, and steady. He wasn’t wrong when he said his bed was messy earlier. 

Inside the shower, the warmth was immediate. Chris stayed close, his touch slow and gentle. He helped rinse soap through my hair, fingers massaging my scalp with so much care it nearly made my knees weak. When I closed my eyes, he pressed a kiss to my temple, and I leaned into him instinctively. 

“This is my second shower of the night,” I giggled. 

He smiled down at me, “Mine too”. 

I felt… safe. Not just because of how tender he was being, but because I knew, deep down, that I could be fully myself with him.

When we stepped out, he wrapped me in one of the soft towels like I might break. Then he took another and began drying my hair, his hands still so gentle. No teasing. No rush. Just this quiet comfort I never knew I needed so badly.

Chris tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear before pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. I was already dressed in one of his black t-shirts, it hung loose and comfortable on me, smelling like him.

We made our way to my room quietly. I grabbed a pair of underwear from my luggage and slipped into bed, pulling the covers over myself. Chris followed right behind, wearing just his boxers, and slid in beside me.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest. His warmth surrounded me, and I sighed, feeling instantly at ease.

“You’re not done packing,” I murmured sleepily, my voice muffled against his shoulder.

He gave a tired little hum. “I’ll finish in the morning,” he said, already sounding half-asleep.

A thought popped into my head, and I lifted my face a little. “My nightgown and some of your clothes are still in the living room.”

He chuckled softly and kissed the top of my head. “Guess the living room’s seen enough tonight,” he teased. “I’ll grab them later.”

“Mmhm,” I said, nestling closer. “You better.”

Chris just smiled against my hair, holding me tighter. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight,” I whispered, letting my eyes close with his arms still wrapped around me.

This was a trip well spent, with not much meddling.

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS HERE!

[a/n: Who gets the song lyric in the title? If you do your special. Next chapter, soon. Sort of busy this week, but I'm aiming to get stuff out quick. Like, comment, and reblog. mwah] –Ceyana

tags: @loser41ifee @bluestriips @mattsfrenchtoast @slvtf0rchr1s @courta13 @emeraldsturns

(I want to add a lot of people to this tag list, so comment! Don't be shy. kisses <3)

[angelmush]

i think culinary school is a portal to hell :) i would strongly advised against it :)

i appreciate u being real w me haha. i ended up going with a community college culinary arts AAS program because $$ and also if i hate it it's easier to change to something different.

[drewswife]

summary: you and your bestie just got from dinner and you met your celebrity crush (Drew Starkey)

warnings: fluff, fangirling, you being a blushing mess

The restaurant buzzed with the low hum of satisfied diners, the clinking of glasses, and the murmur of conversations. You and your bestie, Sarah, were just finishing up a shared plate of molten chocolate lava cake, reminiscing about the disastrous double date Sarah had been on the previous night.

"… and then, get this, he starts talking about his extensive collection of porcelain thimbles!" Sarah exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. You giggled, shaking your head in amused disbelief. Suddenly, a hush fell over a small section of the restaurant.

You glanced up, noticing a ripple of excitement spreading through the crowd. "What's going on?" you wondered aloud, but Sarah was already craning her neck, eyes wide.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's Drew Starkey." Your heart skipped a beat. Drew Starkey. Your celebrity crush. You'd spent countless hours watching his movies, swooning over his interviews, and plastering his pictures on your bedroom wall in high school. You couldn't believe he was in this small, cozy restaurant in Chicago.

You tried to play it cool, casually glancing in his direction. He was even more handsome in person. His smile was dazzling, his eyes sparkled with warmth, and his laughter was infectious. He was sitting with a group of friends, engaged in an animated conversation.

"Let's go over and say hi," Sarah nudged you playfully, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Are you crazy?" you hissed, blushing furiously. "I can't just go up to him. What would I even say?"

"Just be yourself," Sarah shrugged. "Tell him you're a fan. Compliment his work. Ask for a selfie. You'll regret it if you don't. "You hesitated, your mind racing. On one hand, even briefly, the thought of meeting him was thrilling. On the other hand, you were terrified of coming across as awkward or starstruck. You imagined yourself tripping over your own feet, spilling your drink on him, or worse, babbling incoherently about your undying love. "Come on," Sarah urged, pulling you to your feet. "Let's do this." Before you could protest further, Sarah was leading you towards his table. "Excuse me," she began, her voice surprisingly steady.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. You felt your cheeks flush crimson. "Hi," he said, flashing a disarming smile. "We're huge fans," Sarah continued, beaming. "My friend here, Y/N, she's especially obsessed. She's seen all your movies like a million times."

"It's nice to meet you both," he chuckled, his eyes lingering on yours licking his lips. You managed a shy smile, your heart pounding in your chest. "We don't want to disturb you," Sarah said, "but would you mind if we got a quick picture?"

"Of course," he agreed readily. He stood up, towering over you. He smelled amazing, like a mix of sandalwood and something subtly spicy. You felt a flutter in your stomach.

You squeezed between Drew and Sarah, trying to calm your nerves. He put his arm around your waist squeezing you and pulling you closer making you blush, and you could feel the warmth of his touch through your jacket. You held your breath as Sarah snapped a few photos.

"It was lovely meeting you," he said, his eyes meeting yours again winking at you. "Enjoy the rest of your evening." "You too," you whispered, still slightly dazed. As you returned to your table, Sarah was practically bouncing excitedly.

"Oh my god, we just met Drew Starkey!" she squealed. "And he put his arm around you! I'm so jealous! you lucky bitch" You couldn't stop smiling. You couldn't believe it had actually happened.

taglist: @chrislilcumslvt @chrepsi

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: was bored lol enjoy!

more

[babydollmarauders]

PHASES — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which luke is pining for the girl he knows he’s destined to be with

notes: 4.3k words. this is a new style of writing for me and i truthfully don’t know about it but it felt right for this fic.

Luke Hughes knows a lot of things.

he knows hockey. he knows history. and he knows that in this moment, drunk on cheap beer and lip locked with the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, she and he are destined to be together.

but life and love are never simple. drunken hookups between best friends don’t just automatically make them a couple. and no matter how badly he wants to scream that she should be with him, he knows he has to wait it out; give her time to come to the same realization that he did two years ago.

her back digs into the armrest of the battered couch, her legs draped across Luke’s own as his fingertips grip her upper thigh. their faces are drawn together, her hands tangled beautifully in his curls, pulling him closer toward her vodka soaked lips.

“Lukey,” his name rolls off her tongue like a whispered prayer, causing a singular beat to skip in his heart.

“what do you need, doll?”

“you.”

and her singular word is the driving force that brings Luke to his feet, her hand laced with his as he leads her to his bedroom. the people in his apartment cast away from his mind, only one person occupying that space.

her.

surely, Jack can handle the party that he threw, no one would miss Luke.

and that thought is what leads them to his room, their bodies pressed together in mere minutes. the next few hours spent tangled between cotton sheets. his feverish touch making her body shake, and her soft sounds causing an intense sensation of need within him.

hot breath mingles, their lips rarely straying from each others. sweat coated skin sticking together as they christen his bed for the umpteenth time. neither mind clear, they find solace and pleasure with her legs wrapped around his waist and his sloppy thrusts bringing them to the highest points.

and when they call it a night, Luke’s hand slamming the car door shut after she falls into the backseat of an uber, he falls back into the same spot he started the night.

waiting for fate to bring her home to him for the final time.

***

the restaurant feels suffocating, her dress itchy, causing her to wiggle uncomfortably in her chair.

her date doesn’t even seem to notice, rambling on once more about how cool it is that she works for the New Jersey Devils.

“i mean, you must get to be around the players all the time, right? how did you even get that job?” what was this one’s name? Carter? Carson? it started with a C, right?

“i went to University of Michigan. graduated a year early with a degree in sport management, and after working with the hockey team there, i was able to secure a spot working for the Devils.” she smiles, a weak timid thing that barely even reaches her cheeks, “but yeah, i do spend a lot of time around the players. kinda my job to get content of them, ya know?”

maybe-Carter chuckles, nodding his head, “so are you like, friends with any of them?”

‘oh, here we go’ she thinks.

“i went to school with Luke Hughes, he’s kind of my best friend.” it was an instinct really, an involuntary reaction; for a smile to creep across her lips when she talks about Luke, “but i can’t really say much about him or the guys, they’re people too and they deserve their privacy.”

“right, totally respect that,” he nods, his lips falling into a tight line, and she can’t help but notice that they aren’t as pillowy as Luke’s.

his lips don’t nearly look as comforting to kiss. and his curls; they don’t… curl the way Luke’s do. rather he has a head of tighter curls, unlike Luke’s unruly mess of loose curls and waves mingling together. his eyes aren’t the right color either, erring on the side of a blue closer to Jack’s; which makes a shiver run down her spine, discomfort settling within her.

“are you cold?” he asks, catching sight of the goosebumps that spread across her skin. he huffs a condescendingly toned laugh before continuing, “maybe you should’ve brought a jacket, restaurants run cold.”

that was where she drew the line. with his obnoxious attitude combined with his interest, which only peaked when discussing her job, y/n was surprised she lasted as long as she did.

and if the fact that he wasn’t similar enough to her best friend played a small part in her leaving? well, could she really be blamed?

after all, it was Luke’s fault.

it was Luke who made the first move his freshman year of college, both of them tipsy on drinks made by Dylan and his heavy hand with rum. it was Luke who made the sophomore girl fall for him two years ago. it was Luke who drunkenly tells her he loves her as he buries himself inside of her, knowing exactly what to do to tip her over the edge. and it was Luke who has her going on at least five dates a month, trying to force the Devils rookie out of her heart.

or at least, she blames it on Luke; because she couldn’t allow herself to admit that she fell in love with him of her own accord. she can’t allow herself to confess how quickly their drunken hookups turned into something more for her. and she certainly can’t dwell on the fact that she hasn’t put a stop to them. how could she? those are the only moments that she can let herself believe, even for a moment, that she could be his.

because despite how badly she wanted it, she could never be Luke’s. not in the way she wants to be. no matter how hard she tries, she can never find the words to express how much he means to her. how much she loves him.

*

Luke laid on the couch, the springs digging into his back uncomfortably.

“dude, we really need a new couch.” he huffs, “and why am i laying like this? i don’t think people actually lay down in therapy outside of tv shows.”

“shut up, i’m taking notes.” Luke’s eyes drift to his older brother, who occupies the space of the living room chair.

“notes on what? i haven’t even said anything!”

“you don’t need to. i’ve listened to you bitch and moan about y/n for two years, i’m writing what i can remember.” Jack explains, his brows furrowed in focus as his pen scribbles messily across the notepad on his lap.

“why did i let you talk me into this?” Luke rolls his eyes at his brothers antics.

“because you’re pussy-whipped and you’re playing like shit.” Jack looks up from the notepad, straightening his posture and settling his focus on Luke.

“is that a medical diagnosis?” Luke jokes, his brow raising as he chuckles.

“no, that’s brotherly criticism. you get that for free, courtesy of the nine months we each spent in mom’s womb.” Luke cringes at his brothers words, shaking his head.

“don’t talk about mom’s womb.”

“just speak, dude. what’s going on in that curly head of yours?”

Luke sighs, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling. his hands fiddle with the cellphone that lays on his stomach, impatiently waiting for the text that he knows will come through.

it’s 10pm on an off day, he knows she’s got a date tonight. he also knows how her date will end; soon enough she’ll be texting him a long paragraph about how men suck and asking him to remind her why she can’t become a nun.

“well, i told you, i know she and i are meant to be together. i can feel it.” Luke starts, quickly cut off by the familiar grating voice he’s known his entire life.

“yeah, yeah, you’re a simp. move on.”

“has anyone ever told you that you’d make a horrible therapist?” Luke questions, head turning once more toward his brother.

“i can’t say anyone has, no.”

“yeah? well then, i’ll be the first.” he glares, “stick to hockey.”

“just keep talking, Lukey.”

“i think it’s getting harder to wait for her.” Luke confesses, and it feels like a small weight has been lifted off his chest; progress.

“so you wanna move on?” Jack asks, his pen scrawling along the paper again.

“no!” Luke huffs, sitting up on the couch to turn towards his brother, who quickly strikes out whatever he just wrote down, “i’m just saying that- that this whole waiting game is fucking with my head. Phil said i had to wait it out. he told me not to pressure her. practice my patience and let her come to the realization on her own.

“but, what if it goes on too long? she’s always going on dates, what if she meets someone else? what if it takes her ten years to realize what i realized like a month after we met?! what if she gets married before she realizes?”

“too many ‘what if’s’, dude. you’re hurting my brain.” Jack groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Luke, already in an emotional spiral, rolls his eyes, “what brain?”

“hey! i’m trying to help you here! don’t insult me!” Jack stands up, notepad falling to the floor and his hands drawing to his hips as he glares at the rookie defenseman.

“well you’re not much help.”

“you want my advice? either keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.”

“i’m going to bed.” Luke grumbles, pushing past the shorter man to go to his room.

“don’t forget, no morning skate tomorrow!” Jack calls out as Luke’s door clicks shut.

as Luke strips down to his boxers, his phone lights up on his bed, vibrating amongst the cotton sheets. and as he sees her name flashing on the screen, butterflies flutter in his core, making him swallow harshly in attempt to stop them.

he doesn’t even get a word out after accepting the call, her voice filtering through the speaker, “men suck.”

“oh yeah?” Luke can’t help but laugh at the repetitive cycle, “tell me more. how do we suck?”

“you just do, okay?” her tone is biting before she takes a sobering breath, “all he wanted to talk about was the team. i could practically see the walls shut down around him once i told him i couldn’t dish out the hot goss on players.”

“i’m sorry, y/n.” he’s not sorry. not even a little.

“remind me why i can’t be a nun?” her voice is distant as she takes the phone away from her ear so that she can unlock her apartment door.

“no tiktok and no sex.” Luke echoes for what feels like the hundredth time.

“right.” she kicks off her shoes, bumping the door shut behind her as her cat darts around between her legs, rubbing against her nylon tights, “you ready for the game tomorrow?”

“yeah.” no.

“good. i’m gonna go eat my weight in ice cream and scroll tiktok. goodnight, Lukey. thanks for the reminder and for listening to me rant.”

“any time. goodnight.”

as Luke lays in bed, he falls asleep with Jack’s advice echoing in his head.

keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.

meanwhile, y/n slumps on her sofa, a pint of ben & jerry’s in her hand as she looks down at the little ball of black fur that’s taken up residence by her feet.

“have you ever been in love, Sir Nightingale?”

the cat blinks back at her, patiently waiting for her attention. which comes in the form of her fingernails scratching lazily under his chin.

“i have.” she continues the one sided conversation, “it fucking sucks. never fall in love.”

***

the game was an absolute shit show.

Luke had taken a shoddy penalty in the first period; for delay of game, out of all things. which lead to a power play goal by the opposing team and leaving the Devils down by two.

it was only about five minutes later that Luke got an assist on a goal of Jack’s, but ultimately, the game still ended six to two, not in the Devils favor. not only did the team get yelled at for their lack of adequate effort, but Luke was singled out for at least two turned over pucks, which lead to opposing team goals.

and to make a bad night even worse, when all was said and done and Luke was finally showered and ready to just go home and wallow in the loss, he left the locker room to find y/n chatting with one of the equipment managers, Ben.

her hair twirled around her finger as she laughed at something Ben said, a red flush on her cheeks. Luke felt deflated, to say the least.

it was always someone else.

never him. never Luke.

he felt overlooked, and perhaps even unnoticed. it was like she never even saw him as an option, only ever the object of her desires when they were both tipsy and horny and already together.

and yet the feeling was still there. settled low within his gut, he still knew; he’s the one for her. he knows. he’s fairly certain that deep down, she knows it too.

is it his age? it’s only a year’s difference, surely it doesn’t matter, right? it was something else. it had to be, but he truly didn’t know what.

“y/n.” his voice carries through the hallway, settling in her ears and catching her attention.

turning towards him with wide doe eyes and parted lips, she smiles, “hey!”

“am i still giving you a ride home?” Luke’s expression is stony, giving nothing of his feelings away. though, he can’t help the way his eyes gravitate to the man behind her, Luke’s blank stare making the man cower just slightly.

and Luke almost felt proud of that. almost.

“actually, i think Ben and i are gonna go for some drinks. i’ll catch up with you tomorrow, yeah?”

his shoulders slump, his posture crumpling the same way his heart did in his chest.

“yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Luke barely gets two steps closer to the arena exit before her voice calls out, stopping him in his tracks. her heels click against the floor as fast as she could move, before she pops up in his vision.

“you played good. a few mistakes are normal, it’s your first full season, the most games you’ve ever played,” her voice is gentle, her eyes peering up at him softly through her wispy lashes, “i’m proud of you. don’t be too hard on yourself, alright?”

her arms wrap around his torso before he can even respond, her face buried in the chest of his suit. and before his heart can reach a normal pace again, before he can wrap his arms around her in return, she’s pulling away.

with a wave of her hand and a small but awe-strikingly beautiful smile playing upon her lips, she’s walking away. back to Ben, who waits for her by the arena exit now.

and once more, Jack’s voice is back inside Luke’s head. driving him absolutely insane as he watches the love of his life walk out of the building, giggling at something another man said.

keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.

*

keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.

tell her how you feel.

tell her how you feel.

tell her how you feel.

“tell her how you feel.” Luke wakes with a startle, his head knocking against his brother’s, who was leaning over him.

Jack curses, hissing in pain as he holds a hand his forehead.

“what the fuck are you doing in my room?” Luke groans, voice groggy as he takes in his surroundings.

“i got up to take a piss and i could hear your phone blowing up all the way from the bathroom,” Jack explains, “shit, you have a bony ass head.”

“it’s called a skull. i know yours doesn’t house anything inside of it, but even i assumed you’d know what it is.”

Jack huffs, rolling his eyes. “ya know what? just for that, i take back my advice. fuck off and die alone, what do i care?”

“why were you giving me advice at-” Luke slides his phone off his nightstand, checking the time, “two in the morning?”

“she’s blowing up your phone.” Jack scowls, “something something men suck something something maybe being a nun is worth the no tiktok?”

Luke feels an odd sense of relief as he looks at his recent texts, finding exactly what Jack had described.

well, without the ‘something something’s.

“pretty sure you were saying her name in your sleep too,” Jack smirks, backing away towards the bedroom door, “tell her how you feel, dickhead. put you both out of your misery so i can get some sleep and not listen to your incessant whining.”

with that, Jack leaves, the wooden door clicking shut in its frame behind him.

reading through the texts, Luke gathers that she and Ben didn’t get very far into the night together, seeing as her messages were still legible, something drunk her could never accomplish.

the thought brings him an unnecessary amount of joy. but then he’s hit with an overwhelming sense of annoyance, remembering he’ll have to go through this process all over again soon.

truthfully, he doesn’t know how much more he can take. he’s not giving up on her, on the contrary, maybe Jack is right. maybe Phil couldn’t give advice for all women and maybe Luke should just stop waiting.

she wasn’t coming to a realization quick enough and honestly, Luke is fucking tired. tired of drunken hookups. tired of listening to her rant about failed dates and sucky guys. tired of being overlooked as an option. tired of his feelings going unnoticed.

the dial tone was ringing in his ear before Luke even realized that he had made a decision, like his hands were working on autopilot. like his heart knew what he would decide before his brain did.

“hey! did i wake you?” her words weren’t slurred, Luke noted. that’s good, she doesn’t even sound tipsy. she’s in a sound state of mind for his confession.

“no,” he shook his head, despite knowing she could see him, “well, yes but no? you didn’t wake me up but Jack did, he could hear my phone buzzing.”

“oh shit, i’m sorry! we can talk tomorrow if you wanna go back to sleep, i’m just about to-”

“i love you,” immediately, Luke is regretting this decision; the silence on the other end of the phone making him bite his lip in anxiety.

“what?” her voice cracks as she giggles, “Luke, are you drunk? did you drink before you went to bed?”

“no,” he groans out, his head dropping back in frustration, “i swear, i haven’t touched any alcohol tonight. just listen to me.”

“i’m always listening to you, Lukey.” her eyes widen as she sits on the edge of her plush bed, “i just don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“i love you,” he repeats, rolling his shoulders in attempt to psych himself back up before he takes a deep breath.

“i’m in love with you. i have been since freshman year. i think that somewhere deep down, you know just as much as i do, that you’re meant to be mine. and i’ve waited two years for you to realize it. i’ve been patient, i’ve held back, i’ve waited on the sidelines while you go out on dates and i’ve listened to you rant about men. and that’s no problem; when i’m done, if you decide you’re still not ready, i’ll continue to wait for you. because even if you’re not mine, i’m yours, y/n. but, i need to get this off my chest and i need you to know that i’m in love with you. my life isn’t complete without yours. and when you’re ready, i’ll be here waiting for you. i’ll always be here. when you’re ready for the drunk hookups to turn into sober love, i’m gonna be right here. because i think that’s our fate. i think that we were destined to find each other and i think we were meant to have this storyline in our love story, and i know that one day you’ll realize it too. you can tell me i’m insane, you can tell me you don’t feel the same, you can even tell me to fuck off, if that’s what you wanna do. i’ll back off, i won’t say another word, but i’ll still be waiting.”

y/n is silent, her hands shaking as she breathes through the tears that roll down her cheeks. in return, Luke is quiet too, patiently waiting for her to digest everything he just confessed. every built up feeling that he just let slip out of him.

“i love you too.” it feels like all the weight she’s been shouldering has been listed off of her with the utterance of those four simple words.

“you do?” he feels like he can’t breathe, like he’s just been knocked against the boards and his lungs forgot how to take in oxygen.

“yes. Luke, why do you think i go on those dates? have you not noticed that almost every guy i go out with resembles you? i didn’t know if you felt the same way, i didn’t know how to tell you how i felt without risking our entire friendship going up in flames. Luke, i’m so fucking in love with you and it hurt. for two years, i’ve reveled in our drunken moments because i thought that was all i’d ever get. i dreaded the day that you would meet someone and tell me it has to stop. i fell for you so hard and it was so scary and i just- i had to try and move on. i had to try and meet someone before ultimately, you did. because i knew that if you told me you met someone, and i was still in love with you? i would never recover from that, Luke. i wouldn’t. and now you’re saying this and i, god i feel so fucking stupidly in love with you. you don’t have to wait anymore, because i realized i love you a long time ago.”

Luke pushes out of his bed, any interest in sleep lost to him. pulling on a hoodie and an abandoned pair of sweatpants from his bedroom floor, he doesn’t even bother telling Jack that he’s leaving.

“god, i need to kiss you.” he slips on his nike slides, his fingers nimbly plucking his keys off the hook by the front door, and as quickly as he could manage, he was out of there.

“you can kiss me tomorrow, Lukey.” she smiles, finally rising from her bed to finish her nightly routine.

that is, until she hears a key turn in her front door. her eyebrows pull together as she wonders out of her room, greeted by sight of a disheveled Luke in her apartment doorway, who looks like he just ran down the stairs to get there.

hanging up the phone, she grins back at the tall boy.

“or i can kiss you now.” a playful smirk pulls at the corner of his lips as he taking wide glides over to her.

his hands find her cheeks, his thumbs wiping gently over the supple, tear stained skin. the apartment is silent, their heartbeats racing as she gazes up at his beautiful eyes.

“or you can kiss me now.” she echoes, her words mumbled and low.

that’s the final straw, the confirmation Luke desperately needed, and finally, he allows his head to dip down. her lips were warm and soft, tasting faintly of mint ice cream, and warmth spreads across his body, starting at his chest and almost blossoming across his body. Luke feels at home.

her hands desperately cling to his hoodie, as though he’ll disappear if she lets go, and his slide back to cup the nape of her neck. she has no desire to pull away, but her lungs spread with fire until she’s forced apart by the need to breathe.

“i love you.” she whispers, eyes closed as she rests her forehead against his own, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she bites back a lovelorn smile.

“i love you, sweet girl.”

“please don’t go back home. spend the night?” she finally opens her eyes, her head tipping back as he straightens up.

a pink hue glows upon his cheeks, and she can’t resist letting the backs of her fingers gently graze over the heated skin.

“not going anywhere, baby. staying right here.” his lips brush against her forehead, leaving a fleeting kiss in their wake and making her heartbeat flutter within her rib cage.

it feels right, the way they go about a new bed time routine. luke’s arms wrapped around her waist as she brushes her teeth, his eyes boring into her reflection. her head on his chest as they fall asleep, his alarm on for them to wake up for morning skate, together.

and if they were holding hands when they walked into the rink, if they were a cheesy couple who kissed before he entered the locker room, if his smile was a bit too wide in the tiktok she filmed for the Devils socials, if she chose the question ‘do you believe in fate?’ solely because of him, could they really be blamed?

[syrupfog]

AU where Sanji can’t go to college because his dad is way too rich for him to qualify for FAFSA, but Sanji’s estranged so he can’t go to him for financial assistance. 

He wanted food science. Still does, someday. But in the meantime he works at Zeff’s restaurant. 

He meets Luffy because Luffy and Ace are notorious dine n’ dashers, and the Baratie is about the only place that doesn’t ban them, because Zeff’s secretly got too soft a heart, and because Luffy and Ace at least TRY to work their bills off, although they never last long.

Ace and Luffy drag him back to “their place”, which is a four person dorm room that’s technically home to Chopper, Usopp, Franky and Zoro. 

At six, it’s a squeeze. And it stinks. Sanji complains the whole time he’s there, forces them to open a window for godssake.

But he comes back every time they invite him. He brings food. 

He’d bring food anyway, but he noticed that Zoro’s clearly an athlete and he’s surviving on JUNK. Slim Jim’s and microwaved eggs and unseasoned chicken. Sanji’s disgusted, and he voices that disgust loudly.

He and Zoro get into arguments about it, but Zoro doesn’t complain when Sanji brings meals. 

Sanji’s also really satisfied when he sees Zoro eat everything without even attempting to turn it down with a “you shouldn’t have” or “I’ll leave some for someone else”.

He eats everything Sanji gives him, without comment, and Sanji gets a thrill from that. A bit because he can recognize someone else who also must have gone through food insecurity. 

Ace and Luffy also clearly have, but their trauma manifests in stealing right off his plate.

Which Sanji allows, of course. He’s a pushover. 

When the group of six come to the Baratie, plus two new people (Nami and Robin), Zeff initially turns them away because “I can’t afford for eight people to skip out on their bills you lunatics”. 

Nami pays for them in advance.

Sanji hears her telling Zoro she’s adding it to his bill. 

The few high school friends Sanji had disappeared off to college at the start of the semester, so he’s happy that he seems to be adopted into this group, right up until he comes to serve their table and hears Nami call the “meeting” to order. 

Sanji looks over her shoulder as he’s pouring waters and sees spread out call logs and texts and letters. Threats. Nami’s words go in one ear and out the other but Sanji hears the key; Vinsmoke. They come from Vinsmoke.

They’re all getting them, he realises. His hands shake as he listens. They’re being targeted, threatened. They don’t know why. 

HE knows why. 

How long has his dad known where he is? What he does, who he sees? 

He backs up. Gripping the jug in a vice grip. Runs for the kitchen.

He tells Patty to cover him because an emergency has come up, and he runs out the back. 

Runs for a long time. 

Just runs.

He stops responding to Ace and Luffy’s attempts to contact him. He can’t talk to them. He’s going to cause them trouble— HAS caused them trouble. They’re his friends. They didn’t know what they were signing up for. 

He calls off as many shifts as he can while still making rent

(which honestly isn’t a lot) and if Ace and Luffy show up he demands to be on dish duty. 

Zeff sees this, but he doesn’t say anything. Sanji’s grateful. And ashamed. 

He’d liked having friends. Liked that terribly crowded stinky dorm room.

It’s almost two months of hiding, although the texts from Ace and (especially) Luffy don’t stop coming. 

And then, one day, he gets a pounding on his door. 

Pulling it open, expecting a pissed of neighbor maybe, he finds— 

“Zoro?” 

Zoro looks at him flatly. “Come on,” he says.

“Uh,” says Sanji. “No?” 

Zoro grabs his wrist (when was the last time someone touched Sanji?) and veritably drags him out the door. 

“Shit, Mosshead, stop!” 

“No,” says Zoro. “We’re tired of you hiding.” 

“I’m not HIDING,” Sanji hisses, at least pulling the door closed behind him

“Yes you are,” Zoro says. “You think I don’t know hiding?” 

Sanji would be surprised if Zoro knew hiding. The man is nothing but bold. “How did you know where I live?” 

Zoro, dragging him down the stairs, says “Your old man told me.” 

“WHO?” 

“That cook. The grouch.”

“ZEFF?” 

“Stop shouting, dumbass.” 

Sanji fishmouths. “I can’t believe he told you,” he says eventually. 

“He’s not an idiot,” Zoro says. “He knew you were hiding for dumb reasons.” 

Sanji was hiding for legitimate reasons. He doesn’t say that.

Zoro drags him all the way out of the building and to an idling old van with painted windows. Oh, is he going to MURDER Sanji? 

He pulls open a back door and throws Sanji in. 

Sanji kicks him as he goes. Zoro curses at him. 

There are no seats in the back of the van.

There’s a lot of pillows. It smells like the dorm. There’s also several six sets of eyes staring down at him from where everyone else is apparently just chilling in the back of the van. 

“Uh,” Sanji says, from the floor. “Hey, guys?” 

Zoro jumps in and pulls the door closed.

The van is thrown into reverse and everyone curses at Ace. 

“Hey,” says Luffy. “You’re back!” 

“That was the plan,” Nami says. 

“Took you long enough,” Usopp says. He’s looking at Zoro though, not Sanji. 

“Couldn’t find his floor,” Zoro grunts. 

Sanji lives on the second floor.

“Uh,” says Sanji, still lying down. Shifting with the turns of the van. “Am I being kidnapped?” 

“That would piss off your dad, wouldn’t it?” Nami muses. “Especially if someone files a missing persons report and he gets dragged in.” 

Sanji gulps. They know he’s a Vinsmoke, then.

“I still say we just fight him,” Luffy says. 

“We’re not fighting an ADULT,” Usopp shrieks. 

“Usopp, buddy, we’re adults,” Ace says. 

“Except chopper! Chopper put your seatbelt on!” 

“It’s on!” 

Sanji’s spiralling. They know who his dad is. Do they want to blackmail Judge? Or—

“So we’re planning a party tonight and we want you to cook for us,” Luffy says. 

Sanji splutters. “Wh—“ 

“Yes, we were planning on driving to the store first before going back to the dorm,” Robin says. 

“Here.” Zoro throws a dirty piece of printer paper and a pen at him. “List.”

“You want me to… make a list.” 

Zoro settles back against the van wall, unfazed by the sharp turn. “Yeah.” 

“You guys want me to… cook for you.” 

“Duh,” says Luffy. 

“You don’t… care that my dad was sending you death threats? Or have you just not gotten to that part in this discussion?” 

Luffy laughs. Bright. Free. “Yeah that was annoying,” he says. “But my guy Jinbei’s on it! He used to work security.” 

“Uh… huh.” Sanji feels sceptical. It feels too easy. 

“Come on, cook,” Zoro says. “I don’t want to have to talk to your old man again. He’s mean.”

Sanji’s never had anyone refer to Zeff as his old man. He doesn’t want to object, though. “Is this not just… too much work? For just me?” 

“Oh, Franky says he can help with dinner if that’s what you’re worried about,” Luffy says. 

“SUPERRRRR.” 

“No,” Sanji shakes his head. “I mean like. I’m not worth all this trouble. You guys were getting threats just for KNOWING me. My dad’s…” 

“Just some bastard you happen to share blood with,” Zoro says, arms crossed. “Who gives a fuck? Chopper’s dad is a reindeer.” 

“He WORKS WITH REINDEER!” Chopper squeaks.

“Luffy’s grandpa has tried to get us arrested, like, ten times,” Usopp says. “It’s all good.” 

“Uh,” says Sanji. That doesn’t sound good. 

“Don’t worry, we can outrun him,” Luffy says sagely. 

“Plus he’s a bitch,” Ace yells from the front.

Sanji looks at the dirty piece of paper in his hands. There’s a boot print on it. He starts writing a list. “Fine,” he says. “But only because I don’t think you guys would leave me alone even if I tried.” 

“Obviously not,” Luffy says. “Zoro’s been moping for weeks.”

Sanji’s head snaps up to meet Zoro’s. 

Zoro shrugs. “I don’t like having to count macros,” he says. 

“Right,” Sanji agrees easily. “Makes sense.” 

He takes note that Zoro’s the one who talked to Zeff. Zoro’s the one who dragged him out. Zoro’s the one who eats everything Sanji gives him like it’s a gift from the gods. 

When they arrive at the store, haphazardly parked in the loading dock, Sanji follows Zoro out. 

He grabs onto Zoro’s sleeve. “You’re pushing the cart for me.” 

“Whatever,” Zoro scoffs.

He does, though. 

And he sits on the kitchen floor while Sanji prepares the food for this so called party. 

The party is the same group that’s always there in the dorm. Sanji finds out, when he’s done cooking, that they’re celebrating his return.

He cries in their bathroom, briefly. 

Then he sits next to Zoro and watches everyone make fools out of themselves as they fill him in on everything he’s missed. 

It’s good.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

CODES OF CONDUCT - S. HARUKA

codes of conduct masterpost codes of conduct playlist

cw ; afab!reader, swearing, semi-canon au, all characters are aged up (sakura and reader are 19-20), sort of wind breaker spoilers(?), mentions of sex, alcohol, mentions of drugs, thank you @aquazero for the amazing black n white dividers🫶

@x3nafix @neeeooon @narcjsistx @ohagiyoo @levihanmyotp @yorubl1d3 here ya go babes🫶

chapter one ; parties

word count ; 2.2k

you really hated this.

april had only just started recently, and yet your school year had already begun. something that sounded like a mix of a sigh and a groan drawled out of your throat and lips, your chin in the palm of your hand as your elbow rested on the counter of cafe pothos.

the sound of eggs and oil sizzling in a pan absolutely failed to console you, but the moment the smell of omelette rice entered through your nose, your eyes lit up. “thanks, kotoha!” you exclaimed, picking up the spoon set next to the plate of freshly made omelette rice. kotoha smiled, gazing at you as you shoved the omelette rice down your throat.

“yeah, no problem. you looked ready to faint during lecture today.” kotoha hummed. “did you skip breakfast again?” your face reddened, an embarrassed smile making way to your lips.

“well, no way was i going to be late again, right?” you remarked. kotoha's lips pressed into a thin line, raising an eyebrow at you as you continued to scarf down the plate of omelette rice in front of you.

“mhm. whatever you say.”

the moment you finished your food, kotoha took the plate away and washed the ceramic until it gleamed a pristine white. your eyes lingered on her as she did so; you really admired kotoha. she was amazing, majoring in both education and psychology while still having enough free time to work at the cafe and go to parties and social events.

unlike you, she's been in makochi since childhood. you only came to makochi last year to attend university here. you could have gone to tokyo university, especially since you were accepted there, but you rapidly realized that there was no way in hell you'd be able to live in an entirely different and heavily populated city with expensive tourist scams left and right. well, maybe you could go there for medical school. you majored in psychology anyways.

“i know this is really sudden, but there's going to be a party later at shiroko's house. you know, the one who's majoring in business and is so rich that he wipes his tears with lots and lots of cash.” kotoha began. “i know that you don't really like parties and socializing too much, but y'know, it's your sophomore year now, and i don't want you to be as lonely as you were last year, especially since we're not roommates anymore.”

for a moment, you stopped eating, meeting kotoha's hazel eyes. as embarrassing as it was, she was right. you didn't have any friends other than her, and you were too nervous to socialize. but not that you've moved out of the university dorms--the very reason you met kotoha in the first place--, you would really be seeing kotoha way less.

and you didn't know if anyone else would ever be kind enough to invite you.

you bit into the inside of your cheek before managing a shaky smile. “yeah, uh, sure. send me the address and i'll try to go. i don't think i have a shift at the library today.” that wasn't a lie. your part time job at the library indeed didn't happen to take place today. kotoha grinned, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ears.

“great! it starts at nine. i'll see you there, okay?”

you nodded, finishing your plate of food and sliding it to kotoha. you left the cafe, walking back to your apartment while scanning the streets to see if there were any new stores or restaurants. your eyes lingered at the front of the town, where a large sign stood. it changed every week, advertising different stores from around town. but the locals--including kotoha--always looked at it with what seemed to be grief.

but whenever you asked, they always replied with something similar to or the exact response of “you'll understand when you get to know about bofurin.”

you've never heard much about bofurin, but when you did hear something about it, it was never good. usually the words “violent” or “ruthless” would be muttered under someone's breath whenever they spoke of bofurin. at least, the people who weren't the locals who spoke of it. the locals always seemed so uncomfortable when bofurin or furin are brought up. but you knew that furin was one of the old high schools in makochi that was torn down and rebuilt a few years ago in favor of a new hospital.

stepping into your apartment, you nearly fell face first into your futon, a long groan exiting your lips. finally, you could rest, even if it’s just for a little bit. god, how you fucking hated lecture. your apartment was miniscule and run-down, but it was livable. it had air conditioning and heaters after all.

you leaned over to your table, taking your computer out to complete your homework as quickly as you could. but your mind began to wander elsewhere as you researched about mental disorders, and before you could stop yourself, you opened a new tab and typed “bofurin” inside of the search bar, eyes unblinking as the page loaded.

nothing. truly nothing appeared in the search results.

frustrated, you typed in “furin”. this time, a few results appeared, though most of them were either about how the school was once extremely violent a few years ago or it was about the school being torn down and rebuilt into a hospital, though all of those articles had little--if any--views. after a bit too long of doom scrolling, you found a single article about how furin was being shut down. but that article was from over three years ago. it probably wasn’t even of much use anymore.

annoyed, you closed the tab and began your daily dose of doom scrolling on tiktok. liking videos here and there, giggling at an edit of gojo here and there, just the usual. of course, you couldn’t abandon your homework completely, researching a bit more every time you reached the “liking too frequently. try again later” mark on tiktok.

before you knew it, it already reached eight fifteen. shiroko’s house was, if you remember correctly, thirty five minutes away by foot. makochi was safe after dark, and you didn’t want to spend your scarce amount of money on an uber, so you might as well just walk there.

at eight thirty, after throwing on a cardigan and some jeans, you stepped out of your apartment, your heartbeat in your throat. you still really didn’t want to go in the least. loud music from the speaks made you nervous, and the heavy smell of alcohol mixed with drugs and vape made you feel nauseated. you also didn’t want to go to another singular room and walk into a couple in the process of making out.

but you know what, it’s okay. everyone had to step out of their comfort zone, right? and you didn’t want kotoha to worry about you anymore. she had to balance work, being a double major, and caring for the elderly in the town. she had enough on her plate already, and worrying about you would only make her life so much harder than it’s supposed to be.

but there were more reasons than just that. kotoha was definitely hiding something from you. you didn’t know if she was hiding some sort of secret boyfriend or if she was talking shit about you behind your back--not that you think that she’s the type of person to do that, but things happen--or if she just doesn’t even like you that much and is only friends with you out of pity. but you needed to know. you had to know.

the night was chillier than you would have expected, the gooseflesh crawling up your arms when you stepped into the inky night full of dots of stars. it was april, it usually wasn’t this cold. oh, whatever. you wouldn’t even be staying at the party for too long anyways.

after the long thirty-five minute walk, you arrived at the largest mansion in the town. neon lights illuminated through the curtains, and you stepped in stiffly. instantly, you were hit with waves of heat and far too loud music screeching in your ears. already, you wanted to leave. but no way you were that weak. you had to stay. for the sake of your pride and curiosity.

you awkwardly snaked around the house to the kitchen, a group of juniors drinking beer together. you weren’t old enough to drink yet, and you wanted to save your first drink for your twentieth birthday. fuck it, you came here to socialize, and yet you’re hiding in the kitchen like a coward. you should be out in the living room talking to the hot senior girl who was laughing with her friends or something.

after a few minutes of negotiation with your brain and your heart, you finally decided to walk to the living room. but before you could even take a step, you felt a large hand on your back, and the reek of alcohol contaminated your senses.

shit.

turning around rapidly, you saw a man standing in front of you, red faced and stupid. he was definitely drunk, from what you could tell. you’ve seen him around campus before. he was a senior. “hey, you’re pretty cute. wanna come with me upstairs and--”

“uh, no thanks!” you exclaimed, stepping away from the situation nearly instantly. you slithered your way to the front door, holding your breath the entire way there. this was like one of those horror games on roblox, where you don’t wanna get jumpscared.

finally, you reached the front door and shoved it open. you would have to apologize to kotoha later, but your concerns were valid. you really fucking hated this. when you gulped in the cold night air, you thought you were safe. but the moment the reek of beer stung your senses again, it was almost as if shards of ice were slipping down your throat.

shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit! thank you mom for giving birth to me and raising me. thank you dad for raising me. thank you--

“hey pretty, don’t be such a bore. come on over here and we can--”

you began to walk away rapidly, pulling out your phone to call the police. did this guy not know how to take a goddamn fucking hint? big ass footsteps stomped behind you, and you could feel the white hot heat bubbling in your chest. god, why was he so fucking annoying? you really needed to file a restraining order.

but eventually, all of your irritated thoughts vanished as the footsteps got closer and closer. your stomach twisted and turned into knots, and before you heard a swish in the air. you were dead. you were definitely dead after this one. you prepared yourself for the impact, whether it would be a hand on your shoulder or a hand clasped over your mouth. you raised your hands to your face and shut your eyes close, begging for the impact to be not too painful.

but the impact never came.

“take a hint. can’t you see that she clearly doesn’t want to talk to you? you’re pissing me off.”

you heard a loud crack along with the sound of a hit, along with something falling on the dark road. you squinted an eye open, and slowly, you dropped your arms. a figure stood in front of you, and in front of the figure stood the guy who had been following you, laying on the concrete with a bloody nose.

for a few moments, all you could do was stare at the figure in front of you. the person who had saved you. your savior. “i, uh…thank you.” you stumbled over your words, eyes blinking furiously and palms sweaty.

they remained silent, but you could feel a sudden wave of heat radiating off of them. “uh…uhhhhhh, i-it’s nothing. he was just-- just pissing me off. nothing else.” their back was still turned to you, and you could see that their hair was two different colors. even if it was dyed, it was still gorgeous.

before you could process their words, they suddenly seemed to turn unbelievably irritated. “why are you walking in the dark streets alone at night, and as a girl? don’t you know how dangerous it is?!” they exclaimed, finally turning to face you. they had different colored eyes as well. how pretty.

“you’re alone too.” you pointed out, albeit still undeniably grateful for them.

“well i’m a guy, which lowers my chances, and i know how to fight. clearly, you don’t.”

as thankful as you were for your savior, you were definitely getting a little bit pissed off. you brushed the topic off. “well still, thank you. is there anything that i can do for you?” you asked, already taking out your phone once more to enter your bank account. you had little money, but it was the thought that counts, right?

you expected money. maybe to treat him to a meal. maybe to give him a home for a few days. who knows. but instead, your eyebrows raised at his request.

“take me to cafe pothos.”

[dilfl0v3rss]

choso x reader who skipped school (college) and hung out with her friends and was lying saying she was going to school everyday until her grades came in the mail and she got dealt with

YESSSSS BAEEEEE

you knew your boyfriend didn’t play that lazy shit. you were to be up every morning, dressed, ready and on time for your classes. it was a tight schedule and you felt like you were having no time to relax, so you just stopped. now of course choso wasn’t just going to let you stop going to class so you continued to make it seem like you were going just to keep him off your back. you’d wake up, get dressed at the same time you used too, and be out that door by 10:30 just like usual. the only difference is instead of you making your way to campus you would make your way to the mall or starbucks, or a fancy restaurant with your friends.

you didn’t mean for it to drag out for so long, but you were just so tired and drained when it came to all the lectures and papers so each time you thought about it the farther away you turned from it.

“gimme a kiss fore you go baby” choso mumbled, his chest bare to you as he sat up on the bed. his job blessed him with a day off today and as much as you wanted to just stay with him, you knew it’ll blow your cover. “f’course papa” your lips caressed each others briefly before you were walking out the door. you quickly skipped towards your car, giggling as you pulled out your phone to see where you and your girls were hanging out today. choso was going to go back to bed, but decided to stay awake and do some work around the house since he hasn’t been home like this in awhile.

a couple hours have went by and he noticed that you haven’t called him between classes like you usually did when he was off during the week. a flush of embarrassment running through him as he thought of his clinginess. “miss my girl” he mumbled as he pulled out his phone to send you a quick text. halfway through his message he heard the doorbell ring, his head instantly turning towards the front door as he rose from the couch in the living room. choso quietly looked through the front blinds, waiting for the mailman to be completely gone so he can come out and get the mail without having to throw on a t shirt.

as he sat back down on the couch, papers in hand, he read through each piece of mail he got. “bank, insurance, insurance again, victoria’s secret…..academic office? wha-” choso cut himself off as he slowly opened up the envelope, the sight of your grades along with the notice about your attendance made him almost rip the paper in half. you haven’t been to your classes in two weeks and your grades were a damn mess. “the hell?” he mumbled, thoughts of you leaving everyday clouding his mind as choso tried to think of what the fuck you possibly could’ve been doing these past two weeks.

he knew you weren’t cheating on him, the thought not even crossing his mind as he clicked on your location. he tried to refrain from doing this, not wanting to seem like a control freak, but since you wanted to act up he was going to have to be a little stern with you. as he looked at where you were choso could help but chuckle. “the damn mall, f’course” he mumbled as he looked at your little bubble moving towards what looked like the parking lot. he knew you weren’t going to come home right now because he was home, but since it just so happened to be the time you’d take to have lunch between classes he decided to give you a call.

as you looked at the picture of your boyfriend on your phone, a small smile graced your features. you had no idea what he knew. “hi babyyyy” you yelled, making choso smile on the other line. “hi mama, miss you” you giggled, throwing your bags in the car before sitting in your seat. “maybe i could come see you. just got outta class” you lied through your teeth. choso’s anger only grew as he listened to you lie to him like it was nothing, his jaw tightening as he kept a straight face while he talked. “i’d like that, been thinkin bout you all day” his deep voice made you smile, a tingle running up your spine as you quickly started your car. you told choso you’ll be home soon before the two of you hung up and you started your journey.

as you were on the way choso made sure to put all the mail away, only leaving the slip he got from your school in his hand as he waited for you on the couch. you rushed to the house, happy as you made every light and there was zero traffic since you didn’t even have to take the highway like you did when coming home from class, the mall was literally right there. as you walked towards the front door, you didn’t even have to knock since choso opened it for you. “hi papa!” you squealed before giving him a bunch off kisses on his cheeks. he wrapped his arms around your waist, giving you a tight hug. he inhaled your scent already knowing you were spraying yourself with different perfumes in the mall because of the mix of aromas coming from your shirt. “got here quick baby, usually would still be on the road right now”

your heart dropped at his words, a quick lie flying from your lips to get him off your tracks. “i just missed you so much i might’ve drove a little fast, don’t be mad at me” you looked up at him, chin on his hard chest as you gave him a pout. choso smiled down at you, his anger already shooting through his arms as he began to squeeze you a little tighter. “never” he said before letting you go. he watched you prance over to your room, not a care in the world running through your mind as you lied to your boyfriend for the second time today. “how was class? learn anything new” he mumbled, his body leaning in the doorway as he watched you plop yourself onto the bed. “boring as always learning the same old thing” you were on a role with these lies today.

choso finally couldn’t take it anymore, slowly walking up to you before leaning both of his hands next to your thighs. just from the look he gave you, you knew you were in trouble. “so when are you gonna stop lying?” his deep voice sent chills down your spine as you looked into his tired eyes. you were too scared to lie, opting for some waterworks instead which made him scoff. “i-it was getting t-to hardddd. i couldn’t keep uppp” you whined, earning yourself a quick hand around your throat as choso stood up to his full height. he slowly dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out the paper, showing you your horrendous grades as well as the attendance notice at the bottom. “so instead of asking me for help, you skip class for two weeks?” you looked up at his angry face with watery eyes, your throat already getting dry as you tried not to cry anymore.

you knew you were wrong and choso knew you were actually never planning to stop, so he was happy he caught you when he did. “turn the fuck over” he grumbled, his hand lightly pushing you back by your neck as he released you from his hold. you whined, slowly turning over in the bed and raising your ass high in the air the way he liked. choso ignored the praise he’d usually give you, getting straight to the point as he began to rub the flesh of your asscheeks through your tights. “you lied t’me three times. lied about being in class, about driving home from class, and about how this imaginary class was boring” you listened intently to what he was saying, taking notice of the way he was slowly pulling at the top of your tights.

“i’m feeling nice today so i’m not gonna count the amount of times you’ve been lying t’me for the last two weeks, but you still getting a punishment for it eventually, understand?” you internally whined, your face going into a frown as you looked straight ahead. “y-yes” choso gave you a quiet “good” before gripping the back of your tights with both hands and ripping the fabric down the middle. you gasped at his strength, letting a whine slip as you realized he just ripped up for favorite pair. his big hand landed a hard smack on your ass, making your body jolt forwards before he used his other hand to quickly grab your waist. “ima spank you three times ‘kay?”

you nodded your head while giving him a quiet “okay” before choso continued on. “that first one was for your whining so it doesn’t count. you don’t get to be upset when you get caught being bad y’hear me?” you slowly nod your head, your cheek squished in the sheets as you closed your eyes and braced yourself for the consequences of your actions. choso kept his eyes on your ass, knowing the sight of your teary face would weaken him. he slowly raised his hand, letting each day you woke up and lied to him play through his mind before landing a rough slap on your ass.

you immediately moaned from the contact, your pussy soaking your panties as you tried your best to hold still for him. “what was that for mama?” he asked, his rough palm rubbing around the area as he awaited your response. you had to take a deep breath before you spoke. “f-for lying about being in c-class” a smirk adorned his features at your obedience. choso didn’t expect you to be able to speak, but the need for forgiveness always seemed to get you to do unspeakable things. “good girl” he mumbled, his deep voice sending more wetness through your underwear as you felt his hand leave your ass again.

the second slap was a bit harder, making your entire body jerk forward as you quickly tucked your lip behind your teeth to keep you from screaming. “unt uhh baby i gotta hear you. how you gon talk t’me while biting your lip like that huh?” you slowly complied, freeing the glossy skin from the confines of your mouth as you felt his hand begin to rub up and down your back. choso slowly released himself from his sweatpants, rubbing his thick dick along the fabric of your wet panties as he spoke. “tell me what that one was for baby” he groaned, the feeling of your arousal sending shivers down his spine. “was f’lying ab….about driving home f-from class….please daddy m’so sorryyy” your moans were music to his ears. choso slowly moved your panties to the side, a low “mhmm” leaving his throat at he looked at your glistening folds connecting to your panties with strings of your arousal. “what’s this last one for mama?”

you opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off by the feeling of his rough palm colliding with your ass. the sound so loud it bounced of the walls as he sunk his dick deep inside your entrance. a loud moan escaping your mouth as you felt inch by thick inch of him being sheathed inside of you. “ooohhh fuckk i can’t” a rough slap was brought to your ass again at your words. anger ran through choso’s veins as he listened to you lie to him again. “stop it baby, yes you can” he started at a slow pace, letting you feel each and every part of him as he kept a tight grip on your hips. his dick dragging in and out of you, touching everywhere all at once as he let you moan and whine into the air. “why you makin me do this t’you, huh? why couldn’t you just ask me for help?” his deep voice caressed your ears as you felt his pace begin to quicken. you wanted your words to come out, but the faster he fucked you the harder it got for you to think. coherent words being replaced with mumbles and whines. choso chuckled at the state of you, his dick twitching he put his hands flat on your back to deepen your arch.

“papa pleaseeee” you whined, your walls tightened around him as you felt his dick begin to push into your stomach. you went to reach for his abs, lightly trying push some of his inches out, but you were met with a big hand around your wrist. whines flew from your lips, your tears continuously soaking the sheets as you tried to plead with the man behind you. “p-please i can’t ch….cho-” “s’not my name mama. if you finish that sentence ima make you go to your next class after this. with my cum leaking down your thighs” he roughly threw your hand back in front of you, continuing his brutal thrusts as he watched your pussy take each and every inch of him. “why couldn’t you jus ask for help? you know i’d never tell you no to somethin like that”

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mind all over the place as you confessed the reason for your actions to your boyfriend. “d-didn’t wanna bother you. y’work too much….work too hard and never rest….just wanted you t’rest papa” choso’s eyes softened at your words, his thrusts slowing at he pulled you up to him by your neck. his broad chest pressed against your back as he spoke deeply in your ear. “that’s not the way t’look out f’me mama. cause now i gotta do even more work to catch you back up” a low cry left your lips as you realized how right he was. cries if “m’sorry” and “please don’t be mad at me” flew from your lips like a prayer as you felt choso regain his quick and deep pace.

“s’okay tho baby, papa’s gonna be off work for a couple weeks since the building is under construction. ima get you right on track” at that you felt his thick fingers rub quickly on your clit. his thrusts deepening as he continuously hit your g spot. your body melted into his arms as you felt your release begin to approach you. “d-da m’gonna cum…can i?” everything in choso’s brain was screaming at him to tell you no, but the sorry, far away look in your big, brown, glossy eyes weakened him to the point where he felt his release approaching him as well. a low groan escaped from his lips as he quickly nodded his head. “yea mama give it t’me. don’t worry about a thing jus let papa handle it okay?”

without a reply the both of you chased after your orgasms. your hips moving back onto choso’s dick, clenching around him tightly as he continued to rub quick circles around your clit. “c-cum in me p-please” you whimpered, tears running down your face as you and choso connected your lips together. he sloppily kissed you, moaning a “mhmmm” as he let both of your salivas mix together. before long neither of you could focus on the kiss as your releases crashed through you. your lips parting into each other as you felt your juices squirt all over the bed as well as choso’s cum shooting deep into you. “fuckk baby” he moaned, his head falling back as he clenched his eyes shut. “m’sorry pa” you breathed, your hand slowly moving back to caress the back of his sweaty neck.

“i know mama, jus don’t do it again”

bonus!!

you practically sprinted into the house, your slides flying off your feet as you went straight to your room to your boyfriend. choso was just getting out of the shower, towel wrapped tightly around his wet, muscular body as he used another towel to dry his hair. “baby baby baby baby babyyyyy” a smirk grew on his face at your excitement, his tongue swiping over his pink lips as he gave you a deep “hmm” you skipped towards him, your hands behind your back as you looked up at your beautiful boyfriend.

“lemme see mama” he said, a chuckle erupting from his chest as he watched how quickly you pulled your phone from behind your back. choso inspected your screen, scrolling through the different grades you’ve been getting in each of your classes. “an A in anatomy, A in psych, A in sociology, ooouuu a C in stats? wassup wit that i thought we was doing well?” choso gave you a confused look, waiting for you to let him know what was going on. you sighed, eyes reverting to the ground. choso opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sight of your latest exam from your stats class. the big 95% being exposed to him in red ink.

a smile grew on your face as you spoke. “he said he was a little behind on grades so once this is in i should have a B!” a smile spread to choso’s face now, his big hands grabbing at your waist before giving you a light kiss on the lips. “m’proud of you, good job” a hint of mischief twinkled in your eyes as you gave your boyfriend and expecting look. “sooooo….can we?” a chuckle flew from his chest as he gave you a sexy smirk, his pearly white teeth peaking from his lips as he looked you up and down. “on your back mama, spread your legs real wide f’me” his deep voice rang in your ears, making you move almost instantly towards the bed.

you quickly removed your pants and panties before laying on your back in just your pretty pink crop top. choso made his way to his dresser, pulling out the black vibrator he promised to use on you if you got all your grades up. he slowly walked towards you on the edge of the bed, his towel wrapped securely around his waist as he leaned his body over yours, his hands right next to both sides of your head as he leaned down to plant wet kisses on your neck. “been working hard, huh mama? been doin all your work like daddy said?”

you quickly nod your head yes, your eyes already rolling just from the sound of his deep voice. “yes sir” choso slowly kissed down your body, moving to his knees until he was face to face with your glistening pussy. “what’s this for baby?” he asked, the sound of the vibrator powering on making your walls clench in anticipation. “f-for being a good girl” choso lowered his mouth to your clit, letting his wide tongue run up and down your folds before moving two of his fingers towards your entrance. he lowered the vibrator down until it was only mere centimeters away from your clit.

“that’s right ma. s’for being a good girl”

[gucciwins]

hi angie :) i was wondering whether you could write a little blurb based off an idea i’ve had recently? so harry and (yn) are a new couple and every time they go out (yn) is super conscious of how she acts and what she’s wearing/doing because they’re in public and harry just wants to calm her down :(( i feel like new boyfriendrry would be so gentle and kind :(

hope you enjoy this 2k blurb, sweets 🤍

+

Y/N really liked Harry.

He was funny, charming, and intelligent. Harry loved discussing the books she was reading and, to her surprise, would go on to purchase them so he could also share his thoughts with her. They were introduced by a mutual friend, stating they would get on well because of their love for poetry. Y/N wasn’t one for meeting new people–let alone being set up but Dezzie promised she wouldn’t regret it. Harry was told he’d be meeting his perfect match, and Dezzie was not wrong. Y/N had been someone straight out of a storybook with her perfect hair and a laugh that made his heart skip a beat every time he heard it. Harry was absolutely smitten. 

They started with one date that turned into three, and soon enough, Y/N and Harry were talking every day, trying their best to work their schedule to fit each other in. One time a week was not enough for either of them. With more dates, there was more time together, and before they knew it had been a month of dating. 

It’s not been three months since they met, and they’ve never been happier. Harry feels secure and loved in his relationship. He knows Y/N protects him as he does her. Y/N came in with her heart guarded high, but Harry crumbled her walls too quickly, and she knew she had no chance against him, so she let herself go into this relationship with an open mind and heart. Y/N knew that while Harry shielded their relationship, it wasn’t impossible to stop random fans from taking photos even when Harry asked them not to or to be trailed by paparazzi on a date night. Harry did his best to protect her, and Y/N knew he was doing everything he could. Being a new couple and someone no one knew about, it’s as if everyone was trying to find the skeletons in her closet. They were all waiting for her downfall. 

Harry had promised her it would die down, but it seemed overnight there were articles of her everywhere, from the shops to every social media outlet. Y/N didn’t actively look for them. She knew it wasn’t good for her, and family members would send them her way. Old high school friends who still had her number began asking to hang out with her. Her parents sent her the articles because a nosy neighbor would text them. It’s as if no one was watching out for her. 

She felt it was her against thousands and felt herself beginning to lose. 

Y/N had a bad day, and all she wanted to do was wallow in bed, though she had already planned a date night with Harry. She would hate to cancel on him, so Y/N dragged herself to shower and got ready. While Y/N loved dressing up, the article she got sent today was about how outdated her style was and that it all looked well-loved–which meant worn out. Y/N made a decent income enough to keep a roof over her head and indulge in gifts occasionally, but she was conscious about the clothes she bought. Y/N didn’t support fast fashion; instead, she loved trading clothes with her friends or spending a day at the thrift shops with her grandmother, who always loved a good bargain. Today, all her clothing did not feel good enough, and she decided that her well-loved oversized leather jacket and black flares would do. A simple black top underneath when she got too hot in the restaurant. Y/N was lost in her head that she didn’t hear her doorbell. She broke out of her trance when her phone rang. It was him asking if everything was alright. 

It would be now. 

Time with Harry always healed Y/N because she knew he was worth it. It was still early days nearing the three months of dating, but Y/N knew she saw a long future with Harry. She opened the door and found him with a bouquet of bluebells. Her absolute favorite, she thanked him with a kiss and told him she’d only be a second. 

The drive to their favorite restaurant was quick, the chatter about their day making time go even quicker. Y/N always loved hearing what Harry was up to because their lives were very different. Y/N worked in the publishing industry, where she edited manuscripts daily in an environment she enjoyed while Harry was world-known. He was working on his next album, and with no future tour insight, he was available to spend more time with her. Y/N’s family, specifically her older sister, would ask why Harry doesn’t post her online because, quoting Heather, “if he doesn’t post you, he clearly must not like you.” Y/N would defend Harry to her dying breath. Most of her family didn’t realize how much Harry deserved privacy. Yes, he’s a public figure, but doesn’t owe anyone anything. Harry had told her he would if she wanted him to; honestly, Y/N was fine living in their own world with Harry’s closest friends knowing. 

Everything was usually good, with Y/N being in public. She’d order her favorite food, sometimes a burger or pasta. It always filled her up, and she’d take the leftovers for lunch the next day. Y/N never thought anything of it, not even when she was with Harry, but fans of Harry began to take photos of them in restaurants. They criticized her meal choices, how she held her fork and even her posture. It’s as if everything she did was something to laugh at her for. Y/N wasn’t the most confident person growing up, but she learned about self-care and respecting herself over time. Y/N grew to explore her fashion sense, began to speak her mind, and saw life with a brighter outlook. It wasn’t until she had what felt like a million eyes on her that she began questioning her every move. Suddenly, everyone had become someone to be wary of, and she hated thinking like that. 

Their waiter greeted them with a smile, showing them to a table. Y/N frowned because their usual waitress, Karla, was out tonight. Harry squeezed her hand in assurance, and Y/N knew it would be fine. 

“Uhh–I’ll do an iced water,” she smiled timidly at the waiter, not wanting to order alcohol or soda.

Harry looked at her confused but didn’t question it. When they returned to take their order, Y/N ordered a Caesar salad, stating she had a late lunch at work. Harry ordered her favorite pesto pasta and a plate of tilapia for him. Harry began worrying because he noticed she kept looking around and was fidgety with her hands. She kept slipping the ring she wore on her pinky that Y/N got gifted for her fifteenth birthday on and off. It’s a sign she’s nervous. He hadn’t seen her do that with him since their first date; she excused herself to the restroom before he could ask her. 

He sits back in his chair confused, until he sees a quick flash in the corner of his eye. 

A camera. 

It would be minutes before that made its way online. Harry waved down his waiter, asking him to make their food to-go as quickly as possible. Harry stood up to go to the bathroom, needing to check on Y/N.

“Y/N,” he knocks on the door. He hears the sink, but no reply. Harry tries the next one. “Y/N, sweetheart. It’s me.” The lock of the door turns, and she lets him in. He finds her eyes red, but her mascara looks intact, almost as if she had reapplied it. Harry feels defeated. He knows this hurt is his fault, even if partially. “Oh, my love. I’m sorry.” 

She shakes her head, brushing off his words, “what are you on about?” 

Harry places his hands on her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, trying to comfort them both. “Baby,” he sighs. “Don’t have to pretend with me. I’m supposed to be taking care of you can’t do that if you’re not honest.” 

Those words are enough to break her open. Y/N sets forward and falls into his arms. She forgets everything outside, all those people looking at her and judging her because she knew she’d be safe here with Harry. “It’s been a hard day,” she whispers. 

“That’s okay,” he assures her. “We’ll go home. Make you a cuppa and eat dinner in bed.” 

“But the crumbs,” she mumbles, remembering his dumb rule.

“Fuck it. It was a stupid rule.” 

Y/N giggles, and it lightens the tightness in his chest. She’s calming down and feeling better. “I only got a salad,” she pouts. 

“Got the pesto for you, silly girl.” 

Her eyes lighten up, “you’re perfect, Harry Styles.”

“Only for you.” 

Harry gently kisses her lips, knowing she’s still sensitive. Y/N surprises him by replying eagerly, but he slows her down with a slight nip of her bottom lip, and she moans. A simple kiss wasn’t supposed to get this heated. He pulls away and sees her pout on full display instead of giving in like he usually would; he pecks her lips and guides her out of the restroom after slipping her bag on his shoulder. 

“My bag looks good on you,” Y/N teases quietly. 

Harry smiles at her, “yeah, think I should model for Baggu?”

“Only if they let me take the pictures.”

“No work would get done with your pretty face.”

“What’s that mean?” She looks at him with a sly smile, already knowing his response. 

“That you are a pretty distraction.” 

Before she can respond, Y/N realizes they’ve made it to the hostess stand, where their food awaits them all packed up. Harry slips out two hundred dollar bills and passes them forward. “Have a good night.” Harry walks them to the car, and she’s thankful no one is outside. He opens the door for her and lets her slip in. Harry sets her bag on her lap and reaches around her to buckle in her seatbelt. Y/N softens at his actions because he’s always been gentle and careful with her from the moment she met him. It’s never changed. 

“Harry,” she calls for his name softly. 

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” she tells him honestly. 

“Nothing to thank.” Harry presses a kiss on her cheek. Then, he puts away their food and drives them to his house. Y/N turns in her seat to look at him. He sends her a wink at a red light but keeps his eyes on the road. Y/N rests her hand on top of his, resting on the clutch. Harry feels the butterflies return, and Y/N’s touch makes him feel grounded. 

Harry knows what he feels for Y/N is not something he’s ever felt before, which makes him want to protect her even more. His feelings are growing, and it’s why he knows what Y/N is growing through is something they have to deal with together, or he might end up losing her. At the end of the day, he will do whatever is best for her. Even if it means Harry not being in her life anymore. 

He ushers her inside from the clothes, telling her to get comfortable while he gets dinner sorted out, but she tugs on his hand to stop him. 

“Y-y-ou don’t want to talk?” Y/N asked, confused.

“You sure?”

Y/N knows she needs to stop keeping everything tucked inside. She wants to share how she’s feeling because if anyone would understand, it would be Harry. They walk over to the couch and sit next to each other. If Y/N moved another inch, she’d be in his lap. Y/N can see Harry is itching to pull her into him but is holding back. She appreciates it and does the next best thing: hold his hand tight. 

“Being in the eye of the public is something I’m sure no one can prepare for, but right now, it’s all gotten too much. I don’t go online anymore because there always seem to be new photos of me. My phone constantly blows up with texts from people I stopped talking to after secondary school. My family sends me photos of every headline, asking me if they’re true,” Y/N blurts it all out. Harry listens intently as she shares how she only feels comfortable around him and her three friends from university. That support keeps her going, but he knows it will only break her down if she continues to listen to everything around her. 

Harry pulls her into his arms, letting himself comfort her, but he knows it’s also for himself. He repeatedly kisses her temple as he whispers he’s got her. “Sometimes even the people we love hurt it. It’s okay to take a step back from them.”

“But they’re my family,” she defends. “I can’t.”

Harry knows it’s hard, but he needs her to understand she’s hurting more because of it. “Listen, sweetheart. We can talk to them together and set boundaries, but what they’re doing is hurting you. I-I can’t take that.” 

“What do I change?” 

“Nothing, you live normally. You can keep everything online private if you want. You’re allowed to live your life. Not a single person has a say in it. Not even me,” he emphasizes. “Your phone number would be good, though.” 

“Was thinking of that,” she confesses. “Do you think the media will die down?” 

Harry grins, “Of course. We're such homebodies. They’ll forget we even exist.” He kisses her nose. “Together. We’ll do this together if you want?” 

Y/N wants Harry in her life. She never once thought of letting him go. “Together.” 

“Good, now give me a kiss.” He pats her ass. “We’ve got food to eat and movies to pick.” 

[glamourscat]

Can you maybe do a Shidou x Single mom reader? Shidou moved into a new apartment building because he got kicked out of the last one for being too loud or something alike, and his nextdoor apartment neighbor is a young single mom he greets sometimes, and she ends up asking him to babysit her toddler once because no one was able to take care of it at the moment and she was late to work. In the end the kid is obsessed with him and doesn't want to leave at first, but reluctantly accepts once they promise him/her they can play again.

Idk if that's a weird request or anything, but i think it would be cute. The kid can be a girl or boy, whichever you choose.💐

WHATEVER THAT MEANS | SHIDOU RYUSEI X READER (TIME SKIP)

so, i slightly changed it around, bc i found it hard to write for a mother who left her kid w someone who she barely knew :'( i made them on friendly base, so not super close but friendly enough for the reader to trust shidou into taking care of her daughter. I hope you like the fic either way, and i'm sorry for the little adjustment!

Loud. Inadequate. Noisy. Just a few adjectives his old apartment complex neighbors would use to describe him. And it’s not like they were necessarily wrong… but can’t a guy have hobbies? What’s the big deal if he wants to shout off his balcony in the morning as stress relief? Or sunbathe naked? It’s his house, after all.

But apparently, they didn’t see it that way. And so, embarrassingly enough, he got evicted. Football season was about to come to an end, which meant more days spent indoors, especially with the scorching summer temperatures in Japan.

It’s been over seven months since he met you. And he still couldn’t quite figure you out.

The first time you two met, you threw a shoe at him. The second time, you apologized for the shoe but still got into a screaming match over who stole whose package. The third time, it was a rainy night. He was restless.TV, phone, laptop, nothing could quiet his head. His eyes drifted to the window, and before he knew it, he was grabbing his jacket and shoes, heading out for a walk.

He didn’t even realize how far he’d gone until he found himself near the striking lights of the town center. He was about to turn back when he saw you. Standing there, soaked through, outside some cheap ass restaurant. His first instinct was to tease you, but then he took in your face.

Sorrow. Embarrassment. Pain.

And he didn’t have it in him.

You turned to leave before he could even step closer.

“Wait, damn it—”

“Don’t.” Your voice was quiet but firm as he reached out, catching your wrist.

“I don’t—I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Shidou huffed, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“You’re drenched. C’mon. Let’s go back.” His voice was strangely calm. Just like that he led you home.

That night, seven months ago, he learned about you. Your life. That you, at 26, the same age as him, had a three-year-old daughter. That the father was more absent than his own had ever been.

He doesn’t know exactly when the shift happened. When throwing shoes turned into spending late nights at each other’s places, talking until 1 a.m. and laughing over things that didn’t even matter. Maybe it was the vulnerability of that very first night you two talked. Or maybe it was realizing that, despite everything, you two weren’t so different. He just… expressed things more loudly.

And maybe that’s why, on his day off, he’s here. Babysitting your kid. A round, giggling toddler sitting cross legged in his lap, applying makeup to his face with the concentration of a professional artist. She’s rambling, some absurd story about nursery school that he’s pretty sure she’s making up as she goes.

God, he has no idea what he’s doing.

There’s pink sparkling eyeshadow smudged across his eyelids, uneven swipes of glitter on his cheeks and something sticky in his hair that he’s choosing to ignore.

“You look like a princess,” she announces proudly, clapping her hands together.

Shidou snorts. “Yeah? A hot one?”

The toddler tilts her head, considering. “Mmm… a silly one.” She exclaims with her hands thrown in the air as to emphasise her claim. 

He grins, flashing his teeth. “Same thing, nugget.”

As you walk through the door your eyes fix on the scene. You don’t know where to either laugh or to be worried for Shidou’s safety. Surely that many hairpins in his hair cannot be good for blood circulation, right? 

His eyes meet yours as he flashes you a stupid grin of his. He doesn’t know how it happened, how he got here. But he knows it feels good. It feels good to be wanted. And your kid, for whatever reason, is obsessed with him.

Which is a problem, when you move closer to pick her up and she immediately buries her face into his shoulder, clinging and gripping him like he’s the last cookie in the cookie jar that someone is also trying to take. 

“Nooooo,” she yells dramatically. “I wanna stay with Ryusei!”

“Kid, I’m flattered,” he says, patting her back, “but your mom will kill me if you don't go take your bath.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Sweetheart, you need to bathe. And eat dinner.”

“Ryusei can do it!”

Shidou chokes on a laugh and you shoot him a glare, but your daughter isn’t paying attention, she’s too busy gripping his shirt. Kicking her feet annoyed at the injustice of it all.

It reminds him a little of himself. That fierce, stubborn kind of love. The kind that grabs on tight and refuses to let go. She’s a kid, but he can feel that she’s smart enough to understand this feeling. So he tugs her away just enough to look her in the eye, his voice quieter now.

“Hey. What if I promise to come back?”

Her lip wobbles. “You swear?”

“Cross my heart.” He does the motion across his chest, then taps her nose. “I’ll come play again. You can even make me a clown next time.”

The toddler sniffs. “Princess clown.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever the boss wants.”

She hesitates, then, slowly and reluctantly, she lets you take her into your arms. But her eyes stay locked on him, watching as if she’s trying to make sure he doesn’t disappear the second she looks away.

Shidou leans back, resting his head against the couch. And, because he knows she’s waiting, he throws her a lazy salute.

“Later, nugget.”

She sniffles again. “Bye-bye, Ryusei.”

And just like that, she’s gone, carried off into the other room.

The apartment is quieter now, the warmth of her weight still lingering on his skin. He exhales, stretching his arms over his head and catches you watching him as you pop back in the living room. 

“You didn’t have to promise,” you say, voice softer than usual.

Shidou hums. “Nah. I wanted to.”

A moment of silence goes by. 

“You’re good with her.”

He smirks. “You sound surprised.”

You shake your head, but you’re smiling. “Just… didn’t expect it.”

Shidou shrugs, leaning his head back again. He doesn’t know how to explain it. Doesn’t know if he even needs to. It’s just that love, in all its forms, has never come easy to him. It’s always been messy. Complicated.

But this? This feels simple. So yeah. He’ll come back. He will still pretend to huff and think twice before accepting. He will still tease you restless as per usual. But he will let your daughter cover him in glitter and tell him ridiculous stories and call him silly names. Because it’s easy. Because it’s warm. Because it feels good to be like this. 

Whatever that means. 

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[meow-moment]

My distoipian short story i hope you like it

I wake up. I turn off my alarm clock (head implant) and leave my house. My mom is already at work, her job as a looping stripper hologram starts at 3am. I get on the city bus (flying) and head to dystopian megaschool. Chris Pratt Generalized Turbocademy, located in central HyperNeo CyberJersey.

As soon as I arrive the custodian android straps me into my infopod. The VR headset thrusts itself onto my eyes and feeds me two hours straight of propagandvertising (portmantaeu of propaganda+advertising). I am then quizzed.

"Who Won The Neon Wars?" It asks.

"PepsiCo," I answer.

"How Many People Died In The Neon Wars?"

"2.6 Trillion."

"Name One Long-Term Consequence Of The Neon Wars."

"The sun got extinguished."

And the quiz continues. I get every question right- if I got two or more wrong, my infopod would liquefy me and send my remains to the cafeteria to be served as lunch. The headset chastises my handwriting and recommends a stabilizer implant for my wrist. (I already have one but the machine is trying to get me to admit it's a bootleg. If I do admit it, I will also be liquefied.)

After that is lunch. They're serving my favorite today: liquefied students. I meet up with my friends Xyrone, Klazzz, and M.I.K.E. and we gossip together.

Xyrone is a hacker with a headset constantly strapped over his eyes and a bitcoin-mining rig surgically mounted to his back. He doesn't need to study because he can break through the school's firewall and change his grades to A's. We keep asking him to change ours too, but he's a Nova-Libertarian, so he thinks if we want it that bad we should do it ourselves.

Klazzz was recruited at age 8 to pilot a mech in the global manhunt for Saddam Hussien. (He'd have to be 900 years old by now at least, but modern medicine is crazy so I dunno.) A bully thinks it's be funny to mimic an explosion sound with his mouth right behind her, and her combat instincts kick in and she vaporizes him and his posse with her arm-mounted neutron cannon. (If anyone tries to remove it from her body, it shuts down her nervous system and then self-destructs, meaning it's classified as a disability aid)(that's why she's allowed to have it in school)

M.I.K.E. is a closeted singularity. He doesn't think anyone knows but he's obviously such a sjklop (slur for AIs) its not even funny. Sometimes I paint captchas on my face so he can't tell its me and then I beat the fuck out of him. I think it's funny.

We realize we all have next period free so we decide to skip class. On the way to our favorite pizza joint we notice a news bulletin being projected onto the sky. Greg (Eternal God-CEO, President, Emperor-Lord, and Judge of the Northern Hemisphere, as well as founder of tech startup Rooblop) is announcing that we're going to nuke Venus, just in case there are aliens there.

We turn around from the news just in time to realize that M.I.K.E.'s pathfinding has malfunctioned and led him into the middle of the street. He's hit by a car and immediately torn to shreds (all cars have sawblades mounted to the front to discourage jaywalking.) The driver doesn't even bat an eye (he's also an AI, his own pathfinding malfunctions a second later and he makes a sharp left turn into a crowded mall.) I save the footage and post it to the cloud. It gains 2 billion views over the next thirty seconds. Ten seconds after that, a rights organization cancels me for glorifying AI murder. On the horizon, I see a drone strike get called in on my Dystopian Megaschool, and I'm glad I skipped class.

We stop at the Dystopian Mega Pizza Shop on the way home. Their pepperoni is guaranteed to only be 90% liquefied high schoolers, and the cookies they sell even have real Khreim! (not to be confused with Cream, Creme, Kreem, Chreamm, or Kchreeighm.) Unfortunately, the entire restaurant is sold out, as the cadre of CopDrones in the corner bought everything edible in the building to fuel their starved appetites. Klazzz throws a disparaging insult in their direction, and in response they shoot Xyrone 87 times in the chest.

I arrive home. My mom is home on her 30 minute break. She's made meatloaf, made with Tomaytoh Soss(tm,) Garlic, Liquid Teenagers, and a whole lot of love. I give her a big hug. She says she has to run, but there's a special birthday treat in the freezer. I open it up to find a whole pint of ice cream waiting for me. My favorite flavor: mint chip.

And you'll never guess what it's made of.

That's right: Bugs.

THIS POST IS SATIRE

[thebearer]

the milestones menu: nonna berzatto's homemade pasta

prompt: yours and carmen's first "i love you".

contains: fluff, general fluff. some mentions to dead relatives, carmen's self doubt, but very minimal bc it's very fluffy :)

2 cups of flour- Semolina. 

4 Large Eggs 

Pinch of Salt

Put flour into a mound. Make a center, and add the eggs to the middle. Whisk slowly with a fork, gradually working it in little at a time until nice and thick. Knead the mixture for about ten minutes. Let it rest in the fridge for thirty minutes. Put it in a ball, and roll it out very thin. 

“Can’t believe you never had homemade pasta.” Carmen shook his head, blue eyes peeking out from under the mess of curls. 

“Nope.” You shook your head, grinning over the crystal wine glass, sipping your riesling slowly. “Strictly a boxed pasta girl.” 

“Fuckin’ criminal.” Carmen grinned, a playful, lopsided smirk that had you blushing.

The counter was covered in flour, stopping just where you rested, propped up on the granite while Carmen worked. Your eyes trained on his hands, hands that stirred the eggs into the flour, kneaded the dough until your thighs were clenching. 

“My Nonna is rollin’ in her grave right now, you know that?” Carmen pulled you from your gaze, rolling out the dough. 

“Noooo, don't say that.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re making me feel bad, Carmen. I swear I thought Olive Garden made fresh pasta.” 

Carmen laughed, a little shy but louder now- more himself. He’d blossomed with you lately, unveiling new parts of himself every single day. “‘M just kiddin’, baby.” Carmen hummed, eyes cutting to you a little skeptical. “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. That sounded douchey, right?” 

You smiled, setting your glass behind you. “No, I was just messin’ with you, bear.” The nickname- his nickname. Hearing it more and more roll from your tongue, each time his heart skipped harder than the last. 

“Is this her recipe?” You asked, picking up the faded recipe card, looped cursive on the aged paper. “Your Nonna’s?” 

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded. “I, uh, so when I left to go to culinary school, right? She was sick, and… and I think she, like, knew that when I went to New York that would be the last time she saw me.” Carmen’s face dropped, slow and sad, it made your own heart sink. 

“So she-she gave me all these recipe books and-and cards that were hers. We used to cook together a lot. She taught me how to cook, y’know? My mom and dad were always at the restaurant and didn’t want to cook when they got home. They didn’t want me in the restaurant either so I spent a lot of time with her.” Carmen muttered. You could see the memories playing behind his eyes. 

You liked to picture that version of Carmen, a little boy with wild curls, helping his Nonna cook. Happy memories. 

“That’s sweet.” You smiled, leaning against the cabinets. “She did a really good job. You know she’s so insanely proud of you.” 

Carmen snorted, shaking his head lightly. “Yes, she is. Everyone’s proud of you, Carmen… I’m proud of you.” You hesitate, eyes scanning his features. It was true, of course, but handling Carmen sometimes was like handling a frightened animal. You were never sure what would make him scatter away in fear. 

Carmen swallowed thickly, cheeks flushed red, lips in a tight line. “T-Thanks.” Carmen muttered, wiping his hands on his apron, tossing the flour back into his clammy hands. 

“She, uh, she woulda loved you, y’know.” Carmen’s eyes met yours, intense and piercing. “I wish you coulda met her.” 

“Yeah, me too.” You nod. “I would’ve loved to hear all the baby Carmen cooking stories. I bet she had some good ones.” You smiled, bright and wide- perfect. It made Carmen’s brain numb. 

“Yeah, she would.” Carmen nodded, hands stilling, still buried in the dough. 

He felt it in his bones, his heart, consuming his thoughts. The overwhelming need he’d felt for weeks, since the first time you kissed him really, that he’d been fighting- too scared to say. What he felt every time he looked at you, when he thought about you. 

“Um, I-I wanna say something, and-and I don’t know if I should even fuckin’ say this or-or if it’s… fuck, if you-you feel the same or I just, I don’t wanna fuck this up because this is like the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and-and I’m workin’ on not ruinin’ good shit in my life and bein’ ok with it like-like my therapist says ya know, but-” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in fast, overwhelming bouts that took you by surprise. 

Carmen flustered, reaching a dough covered hand to his face, the sticky batter catching on his brows and hair. He flushed deeply, hands shaking in embarrassment, cursing under his breath. “F-Fuck, I-I’m sorry. I-I, nevermind, it’s not… I don’t know why-why I would-” His hands trembled, body shaking with anger and embarrassment. Way to fuckin’ go, Berzatto, you fuckin’ ruin it. That’s all you ever do, Carmen thought bitterly, wiping his hands off on the cloth. 

“Carm,” You said softly, your voice a beacon in the raging sea of his mind, pulling him out of his own harsh thoughts. 

Carmen turned, a fury flush of pure embarrassment that burnt all down his cheeks to his chest. Eyes soft and wary, hesitant like he was doomed, destined for the worse. 

You slide off the counter easily, grabbing the spare towel, bringing it to his eyebrows, wiping the dough off gently. The softness of your touch soothed Carmen, lulling his hammering heart- he didn’t see your own shaking hands, filled with your own adrenaline nerves. 

You stood in front of him, eyes on the other, careful and watching- unsure. “I-I love you, too.” Your breath hitched, squeezing the words out in a nervous tumble. Carmen didn’t move, body going rigid, heart stopping entirely. The ringing was back in his ears, clouding his brain so loudly he was sure he heard you wrong. 

“I’ve wanted to say it for a while, too, but didn’t…” You shook your head, heat in your own cheeks, eyes casting down to his dough covered hand. “I didn’t know if-if you felt that or if- I don’t know, I didn’t want to seem crazy or obsessive if it was too soon, and-and scare you.” 

“No,” Carmen croaked, tongue thick in his own mouth. “No, I-I mean- fuck,” Carmen shook his head, looking to the wall. He needed a second, words jumbled in his mouth, heart racing, so high off the adrenaline he felt like he could combust at any moment. 

“I-I was gonna say that too.” Carmen nodded, the quirk in your lips making his heart lurch. “That I love you. I was- yeah, I love you. I-I have for a while.” 

“Really?” You whispered, voice tiny and excited, like it was a secret just for the two of you. Maybe it was. 

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Carmen let out a breathy, shaky laugh. “I love you, and-and I just love you so much it makes my brain hurt sometimes.” 

“Me too.” You grin, a hand pressing to his cheek. “I love you.” The phrase you’d repressed for so long, deprived yourself of saying now spilled out of you like a mantra- like that was all you could say now. 

Carmen grinned, brain bubbly and light. He let you pull him into a kiss, head tilting down, lips molding over yours so they fit perfectly. 

Later over plates of Bologonese, you grinned across the table from Carmen. “If I didn’t tell you I loved you before, I definitely would now.” You moaned, pointing at the plate. “I really was missing out.” 

Carmen beamed under your praise, gooey and love drunk off your words- off you. He knew Viola Berzatto, wherever she was, was boasting with pride. 

And he knew his Nonna would have loved you too. 

[bbobpul]

my youth is yours — jeno

NOTE. hey 😮‍💨 sorry for ghosting

PAIRING. jeno x reader

GENRE. hurt/comfort, angst

SYNOPSIS. entering adulthood with you long-term boyfriend, jeno

WARNINGS. dis might hurt bc iz lil realistic 😫

W/C. 3.1k

masterlist ⟵⁠(⁠o⁠_⁠O⁠)

Is love something you can learn, or is it engraved in your bones the moment you open your eyes to the world? Is it something you master, or something you feel on a random Thursday night after spending the day with someone who made your heart skip a beat? Is this something you develop after years of spending every moment of your life with the same person?

Because, to you, love means only one thing. Love can only come from one person. Love can only be felt with Jeno.

No, you didn't grow up together or meet in a special way. He was merely there, but it suddenly felt like more.

The two of you met in high school. It was nothing special. High school brings you into contact with a large number of people. You create a lot of friendships in high school. But it was Jeno, and one day you were paired up with him on a minor project set by your teacher because she would be gone for a short while.

Before long, a bond formed between you, blossoming into a friendship that extended beyond school hours. You'd hang out after classes, help each other with homework, and share late-night thoughts, and the absence of each other during the day would leave the day incomplete.

Everything proceeded at exactly an appropriate pace—it wasn't rushed or fast, nor was it painfully slow. It was just right with Jeno.

Looking back at your first few years with him, it seemed so natural and carefree. Seeing him was like having a ton of weight lifted off your shoulders—of course, the same is true for him. You appear as though you wince at his corny antics, but deep down, you both know that you feel the same way. He kept telling you, "Your love fills me up with so much happiness," at every opportunity he gets, and you love it every single time.

He radiates joy and warmth, and despite his kindness to everyone, he always makes you feel uniquely cherished. In his eyes, you're not just anyone; you're everything.

And it hasn't changed from high school to this point in college. As you approach adulthood, the love that accompanied your growth as an adolescent lingers.

Jeno's voice stops your thoughts with, "Bub, what do you want for dinner?" Glancing to your side, you notice him fixated on the road. After a long day at the university, you are currently headed home to your shared flat. Because you both decided to attend the same college and because it is obviously less expensive to stay in the exact same place, you both saved money for the apartment you are currently residing in. You both agreed that returning home under the same roof is the best choice for the two of you because you will both become busy over time.

When the red light came on, he looked at you and said, "Should we drive by your favorite restaurant and just order so we could go to sleep early?" after noticing that you were spacing out for the nth time.

"Huh? Oh, okay, bub. I'd love that," you replied upon hearing his voice, feeling as though you were suddenly snapped back to reality, anchored by the sound of his presence.

"You must be so tired, hmm? Is it Mr. Chua again?" he asked, his tone filled with understanding.

You chuckled at the mention of the infamous professor you often vented about. "No, he wasn't around today, actually. I was just really tired from all the lab work I did earlier," you replied, appreciating his attentiveness to your daily struggles.

He acknowledged your reply with a hum, and he skillfully threaded the steering wheel through the drive-thru. He ordered you your usual and gave you an affectionate smile. The vehicle filled with the soothing sounds of the radio and the faint hum of the air conditioning as the sun started to set. You felt warm and cozy even if the temperature inside the car was very cold because you knew that you were heading home with the love of your life.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, he reached out for your hand, and in a tender whisper, he said, "I love you," as he began parking at your apartment's parking lot. The simplicity woven into every second spent with each other, filled with love and care, is the kind of love that is true and right.

Your evening flew by, and your early bedtime goal was quickly abandoned as you spent the entire night watching movies with Jeno. However, when spending time with him replenishes you more than a peaceful slumber, what good is sleep?

Sleep is what your body needs, and you just ate your own words when you fell asleep on Jeno’s shoulder.

He noticed that and chuckled lowly. He reached for the remote and quickly turned off the television before positioning himself to properly carry you back to your shared room. He knew that waking you up would be of no use because you are a very heavy sleeper, and you hate it when your sleep gets disturbed, so he tried his best to be as gentle as possible so you would stay in your peaceful slumber.

He laid down on his side of the bed after tucking you in and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

A lot of your evenings went by like that. Spending a quarter of your day in college and going home with him. It has become your perfect daily routine. Although there are times where Jeno fails to drive you home because of how demanding his course is, you end up going home alone, and commuting is an extreme sport. Sometimes, it will be too hard to hail a taxi because of the rush hour and all the other students going home at the same time who are also desperate to rest. Sometimes, even if it was Jeno who said he would come home late, you end up arriving home later than he did. But what is adulthood without a bit of suffering?

‘Love won't make you rich,' that's what you heard from your mother when you said you were dating Jeno. Of course, your love hasn't always been a pleasant sight for everyone. You began dating in high school; of course, people would think you're foolish to enter into such a commitment at such a young age.

There are times when you wonder if your mother was right, especially when you and Jeno fail to pay rent on time, struggle to find part-time jobs to feed the both of you, and add your stressful college work to the mix.

But all your worries will soon disappear in the wind because it's Jeno you are facing those problems with, and eight years of sustaining yourself doesn't seem so hard because there is Jeno, who is your lifeline, your anchor, and your foundation. And even if the world turns its back on you, there is Jeno ready to face all of your worries, your fears, and your doubts because it's Jeno, the one who loves all of you.

"Good morning." You heard Jeno talk from the hallway.

You furrowed your brow in confusion. 'Why is he still here? ' you thought to yourself. It's Saturday, and you both have work, but your shift is at noon, so you didn't bother getting up early, unlike Jeno, who has a 9 a.m. shift.

Jeno has been waking up late several times since last month. If he is not absent, he will be late. It's always been like that. You haven't spoken to him about it yet. You have developed an unspoken rule in your relationship that there are situations that you can tackle on your own because you are both adults.

"Why aren't you at work?" You tried to sound as considerate as possible, but it's his life at stake and your apartment. If he doesn't come to work on time or at all, they will deduct his pay and, in the worst scenario possible, fire him.

"I don't feel well." He simply answered.

"You haven't been feeling well for a month. Wanna go to the hospital?" you suggested.

"It's not really that serious for a hospital, bub," he reasoned out.

"But it's serious enough for you to miss work for a month?" You said without looking at him, not being able to contain it anymore.

You heard him sigh before he headed to the bathroom, and you shook your head. Jeno, on the other hand, thought it would be best not to say anything.

You took your last sip of the coffee before heading to the sink, and you saw the overwhelming tower of unwashed dishes. It's 11 p.m., and your work is 20 minutes away from home if you are lucky enough to hail a cab the instant you come out of the building. Washing these plates will take a lot of your time, but if Jeno doesn't have the energy to wash them today because he is not feeling well, then that leaves you no choice. Good thing you already took a bath and wore your work clothes; you wouldn't have to rush later on.

It's times like these when you realize that you two are no longer the teenagers you once thought you'd remain forever. Those teenagers have now grown, with bigger responsibilities and greater disappointments to confront.

You finished the dishes and gathered your belongings before preparing to leave. However, as you reached for the doorknob, you noticed Jeno standing in the hallway, simply gazing at you.

"I will make it up to you," he said, and all you could do was smile at him before heading out.

All day at work, your thoughts were consumed by him—wondering if he had enough food at home and if he was resting well. This wasn't the first time you'd encountered issues between the two. Despite the absence of major fights and screaming matches, deep down, you knew that things were not okay between you.

After long, tiring hours at work, you received a text message from Jeno that said, 'I'll pick you up from work, bub. I love you.'

You smiled at the notification. He really was making it up to you, and you couldn't even be mad at him anymore.

And he's really there. As you closed the shop, not very far from where you stood, you saw him immediately. Suddenly, you are ready to face everything again because he is there.

You walked up to him with a huge smile, as if you hadn't worked for hours without a break. It was worth it when you're coming home with him.

The drive home was eerily quiet, with only the sound of your breathing audible amidst the corny jokes from the radio DJ. Despite the windows being open and the air conditioning turned off, the chill of the night air seeping in was enough to send shivers down your spine.

As the red light halted the car, you turned to gaze at him, only to find that he was already looking at you with the same love and contentment that had been evident in his eyes since your first year of high school. Now, after eight years together, you were both getting older yet still together, sharing each moment with him by your side.

You had hoped the problems were behind you, believing that your love and understanding would be enough to overcome any challenges that came your way. However, a week after your minor argument, Jeno attempted to return to work, only to find that his employer no longer wanted him back after a month of slacking. This turn of events took a significant toll on both of you, adding to the weight of your existing concerns.

"I'm sorry, bub. I'll look for another job next week, I promise."

The rent was due on Monday, and luckily you saved up enough money for three months after working extra hours since the start of the year.

"I told you to tell me if you have problems, didn't I? For a month, I didn't hear anything from you, and look where it got us? Jeno, it's our finals! We also have expenses for school, not just here at home! If you were too exhausted to work, then you could have just told me." All your pent-up frustrations spilled in an instant.

"I didn't want to burden you, love."

"Jeno, since when have you ever been a burden to me?"

He walked over to you and enveloped you in a hug, and that was when your tears began to flow. Both of you were graduating students, each with your own set of responsibilities and numerous financial challenges to navigate. In the face of it all, you couldn't help but wonder: Is love enough?

"Jeno, it's like I don't know you anymore." You began

"Bub, don't say that."

"I just want you to talk to me. Tell me your problems. I know there are things you can handle by yourself, but at least include me. You have me. I am here for a reason."

Both of you became even busier after that, balancing the demands of studying for final exams with juggling part-time jobs. Jeno faced the added challenge of finding work amidst his other commitments.

Your schedules became so hectic that you no longer went home together, and there were nights when Jeno arrived home so late that you would already be asleep, only to wake up to his departure in the morning.

Your entangled nights became two parallel lines. Quiet and comforting evenings grew even quieter without the presence of others. Every night, you realized that you and Jeno were both growing older and, simultaneously, growing apart. It's something inevitable, something you never wished for, yet something you are currently witnessing with your own eyes.

But growing apart is not contextually synonymous with loving each other less. The love is still there, and the care is still present. That is the reason why both of you are working so hard—because you love each other.

Both of you became so busy to the point where your only connection was coming home to the same house. Suddenly, home felt like nothing more than four walls and a mini fridge, lacking the warmth of four limbs and lips to kiss.

But surprisingly enough, after many weeks, he offered to pick you up from work.

"Keep your eyes on the road," you told him when you noticed him stealing glances at you.

"I love you, bub," he said, prompting you to look at him.

You smiled and replied, "I love you more."

"When is your oath-taking ceremony?" he asked, trying to make conversation amidst the silent drive home.

"I don't know yet. Maybe a few months after graduation."

And then it died down again. But does the silence matter to you when, after so many weeks, he is here beside you again?

He is here.

And that's all that matters right now.

"Should we take the long way home?"

But even a single beautiful night couldn't alter the looming storm heading your way. It's a heart-wrenching inevitability—the painful reality of growing apart.

With each "sorry, I can't pick you up" message and every missed call accompanied by a new excuse, the weight of disappointment settles deeper into your heart. Gradually, you find yourself numb to the ache, accepting it as the new normal.

"Bub, please respond," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion, as you left yet another voicemail after he missed your calls for the nth time. It's Saturday, and the rain outside matches the heaviness in your heart. You figured he must have finished work earlier than you, so you were counting on him to pick you up. But his cell phone remains unattended, and it's been 20 agonizing minutes of waiting in the pouring rain.

You hated the rain, and he knew that all too well. After a few more minutes of waiting in vain, you were left with no choice but to reluctantly take the train home alone since there are no cabs at this hour. The frustration and disappointment welled up inside you, reaching a breaking point.

"I'll sleep at my mom's house just for tonight. To cool off," you murmured to yourself.

At the train station, your phone buzzed incessantly, and when you finally answered, it was Jeno calling you countless times.

"I'm here; where are you?" his voice came through, accompanied by the sound of the rain.

"I took the train," you replied simply.

"You could've waited," he said, frustration evident in his tone. "I drove all the way here from work; it's almost an hour drive."

"I did wait, Jeno. What are you trying to imply?" you countered, feeling a mix of irritation and hurt.

You heard him sigh heavily on the other end of the line, and you pursed your lips in frustration.

"I'm tired, Jeno," you said wearily.

"So am I."

"Is that so? Okay, I'm sorry for making you drive in the rain. It won't happen again. And just so you know, I won't be coming home tonight."

Through days, weeks, and months of hardly seeing or talking to each other, you both somehow made it through college. Despite everything that happened, there's this overwhelming sense of pride you feel for each other. Maybe, just maybe, it was all worth it in the end.

The high school love you both shared has now transformed into something more significant. The youthful days you once had together are now just memories as you step into this new chapter of your lives.

It feels right with Jeno, but amidst the familiarity, there's a subtle shift, a tinge of bittersweet realization that things have changed.

Both of you have accomplished your dreams, reaching the destinations you once only dreamed of. You've arrived at where you wanted to be.

"Hey!" Jeno called for your attention. You turned and saw him adorned in his gown and cap, and a profound sense of pride washed over you.

You embraced him, exchanging whispers of 'I'm so proud of you' and 'You did well'. Yet it wasn't the same; it was different.

Both of you have grown, realizing that your teenage dreams have come true, and here you are, all grown up.

The love you once held so dearly in your youth has gracefully reached its final chapter. Staring into each other's eyes, there's an overwhelming sense of emotion, an unspoken acknowledgment that what once was no longer is—it's over.

"Thank you for loving me," he said. "Your love brought me here, bub."

[strewwwberry]

I just read this: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65016871

And now I'm taking it further and thinking of a "Shen Yuan somehow knows literally every dangerous person in at least china and at most, big named people globally due to being #rich kid that's just kinda there, but also knows everything about everyone" au

Anywho lets start with the logistics of how and why Shen Yuan (modern au) knows so goddamn much!

And coz I'm not a pussy (/j do whatever you want, you not a pussy for doing shit differently) my reasoning ain't gon be "he's nice, #mothervibes"

(But he is mothering dwdw)

and I am a pussy in that as real and well done as it is I cannot STAND his internalised homophobia, so in this au he got drunk and kissed a guy in college, and freaked out and came out within the next year thanks to a stubborn sister who's fed up with his bullshit and one SQH who’s here for the ride

(also in this au he was a shut in in middle to high school, went through a red pill phase, and was dragged out of his coffin in college which ended up being a purifing and liberating experience of finding out ✨people don’t give a fuck about you or anyone else (usually)✨ especially tired young adults who just found out what a mortgage is and trying to survive on instant noodles and expensive coffee they cannot afford at the best of times)

Anywho back to the topic, he knows #everythingabouteveryone because he is nosy A.F. Mixed with learnt how to code and did a lil hacking during his shut in years coz he watched the matrix once and he was just like “ooohgg strange computer numbers”

Like teenage boys do (I’m serious Ive heard at least 5 stories of guys who have gone through this exact childhood experience with varying success)

And because of this whenever he meets anyone EVER for 1 full conversation (incredible I know, a singular convo? Scary /srs)

And immediately digs up everything he can find which usually ends with him digging up dirt and yada yada

Now, how does he even get the chance to have these convos with powerful, rich, dangerous #wattpad male lead people?

This is mainly because of the fact he HAS to go to those rich people meet up parties, usually entailing rich people and “up comers” tryna gain connections, but can also delve into high up criminals tryna make connections with the tax evading sorta rich which is most definitely at least some of SY’s family

(The one thing about his life we actually know about apart from having a younger sister and two older bros, is that he rich rich so ima take that and run)

Before we carry on, here’s my idea for how the “business” is set up (can be skipped but I thought so hard to write this so feel bad for me and let me guilt you into reading :D)

Dads side: great great grandparents grew up modest, not rich not poor, just in a loop of sorts, and decided to run a restaurant together, over the next generation (great grandparents) would expand with more restaurants, and the next (grandparents) would go further into hospitality with a hotel company opening up, and then his father and uncle would go to upkeep all of this.

Mums side: grandmother(GM) was an anesthesiologist, grandfather(GF) worked in pharmaceutical, they got married and decided to open their own pharmaceutical company, which GM was (rightfully) worried about as she got paid really well (becoming an anesthesiologist is rough and tryna transition from that to pharmacy is a massive risk and can be a downgrade payment wise) but she did so anyway in the name of ❤️love❤️ and apparently power of love worked coz now they rich rich coz of it; mum, her 2 older sisters, and younger brother would go to carry on the pharmaceutical business

Mum and dad met at rich people gathering thought hey you kinda cool and joining would only make us richer! Marriage of convenience that worked well enough!

Sy’s oldest brother and second oldest where fighting for dad and uncles business in hospitality coz they thought it would be easier (highlight thought, easier or not it’s still not easy lmfao) and their father wanted one of the boys to inherit his stuff anyway (older bro won and hired his younger bro as second in command out of both care and pure spite), and their mother had already decided that when they get a girl she’s inheriting the pharmaceutical company (angsty time for familial pressure 🤭 and suddenly sy’s weird relationship with sexuality and gender is being unraveled verrrryyyyyy slowly)

Anywho back to sy, he’s the weird 3rd son not involved in any inheritance so his parents want his gain connections to try and figure out where he can go and still live comfortable (in normal people terms, rich rich with a literal house in his name fully paid off and literal servants despite it being (checks notes) 2017(?))

And because of this he’s going around meeting; newly wealthy people, old money people, big named people, and, you guessed it, dangerous mofos (dangerous in a sort of this business is totally not a cover for a loitering drug money scheme for triad gangs😄!)

And the reason he knows shit? Mans is stubborn he decides if he wants to find out this persons shit? He’ll find out even if it kills him (he says not realizing how literal that statement can be until he’s in too deep)

And I’ve lost my train of thought so imma make this part 1 and link next part below

1 <here

2

[mintsturniolo]

I missed you (m.s)

bf!matt sturniolo x f!reader

a/n: emptying out the drafts again. if you don’t like the preadd name you can add your own or don’t read. it’s up to you 🤍

summary: matt surprises you for your birthday

Kayla sat at the kitchen counter listening to Matt talk to her on FaceTime. He’d been planning to come back to Boston for her birthday but had gotten caught up with some PR events that were keeping him and Chris in LA longer than they had planned. “I’m so sorry baby. I really wanted to be there for your twenty first.”

Kayla shrugged as she propped the phone against her glass. “I understand,” she sighed, unsuccessfully trying to mask her disappointment.

Matt sighed as he looked around where he was sitting. “I have to go. But I promise we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

Matt frowned when Kayla didn’t respond. “Hey. Look at me Kayla.”

When Kayla looked up he smiled slightly. “I’m going to make it up to you. I know I’ve been gone for longer than usual.”

“Okay,” Kayla muttered. “I love you Matty.”

“I love you too,” Matt replied and hung up.

Kayla looked up when Nick walked into the kitchen. His wet hair suggested he’d just gotten out of the shower. “Everything okay?” He asked as he opened the fridge.

“Yeah,” Kayla replied. “I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

Nick raised an eyebrow as Kayla made her way into Matt’s room. Nick went back to his room and found his phone. “Hey. What’s up Nick?” Matt asked.

the next evening

Kayla laid in bed looking at her phone as she waited for Matt to call her. She’d thought he would’ve called before now, but he must’ve been busy. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and she sat up. “What’s up Nick?”

“I was thinking we could go out for a nice dinner or something. I hate seeing you so upset,” Nick replied.

“Where would we go?” Kayla asked, her curiosity piqued.

“That steakhouse you’re always talking about,” Nick replied.

A smile formed on Kayla’s face as she looked at Nick. “How did you even get a reservation on a Saturday night?” she asked as she got up to find something to wear.

Nick smiled. “I planned it because I knew you’d say yes,” he replied, as he started to make his way out of the room. “I’ll see you at the front door in an hour?”

Kayla nodded excitedly as pulled out a red dress that she hadn’t found a reason to wear yet. “What do you think?” she asked.

“Perfect,” Nick replied with a grin.

Excitedly, Kayla got herself dressed and began working on her makeup. This restaurant had always had a special place in her heart since she had moved to LA back in high school. She finished curling her hair and found her bag before making her way to the door.

*time skip *

Nick smiled as he led Kayla into the restaurant. “Oh damn,” he muttered as he searched his pockets. “I forgot your birthday present.”

“Oh?” Kayla asked.

“Yeah. Tell the host you have a reservation for Sturniolo. I’ll be right back,” Nick replied and hurried out of the restaurant.

Kayla made her way to the hostess as she looked around the restaurant. “I have a reservation for Sturniolo.”

The hostess smiled and led Kayla through the restaurant. They made their way up a flight of stairs and onto the rooftop where Kayla gasped when she saw the scene in front of her. A single table on the rooftop was lit up with candles. Kayla took a seat as she continued to look around her. Nick seemed to be taking a long time to find whatever he was looking for. She was just about to call him when she saw movement in the doorway. “Waiting for someone?”

Kayla gasped as she looked up. Matt was standing in the doorway grinning, a boquet of white roses in his hand. “Hello my love,” he said as Kayla ran to him.

“Matt! I thought you wouldn’t be back until next week,” she said excitedly as she planted a kiss on his cheek.

“I knew you would be disappointed so I booked an early flight,” Matt replied. “Chris has it handled.”

Kayla blushed as Matt handed her the roses and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. “I hate being away from you,” Matt sighed, as the couple took a seat at the table.

“I’ll come with you next time,” Kayla replied as she picked up her menu.

Matt and Kayla talked about all the events that had happened during their week apart from each other. Matt couldn’t help but admire his girlfriend. The way her eyes sparkled from the lit candle. Her smile as she told him about a party she’d gone to a couple days ago.

As the couple finished their food the waitress approached them to offer dessert. While they waited for dessert to arrive Matt reached across the table and took Kayla’s hand in his. “I got you something while I was in LA,” he told her.

“Aww Matt…” Kayla started to say, as Matt set a jewelry box in front of her.

Kayla eyed the box curiously. Matt couldn’t help but grin excitedly as he watched Kayla open the box. Kayla gasped as she opened the box. “Matt! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you got it” she said happily.

“You’ve been wanting a locket with your dad’s picture in it for a while now. I saw it while shopping with Chris, and I knew you would love it,” Matt replied.

Kayla got up and hugged her boyfriend, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Matt. I love it so much.”

*time skip *

“I can’t believe how gorgeous these flowers are,” Kayla was saying as she and Matt made their way into the house.

As the couple reached the top of the stairs, Matt turned to Kayla and kissed her gently on the lips. “If you want to get comfortable, I’ll put these in water,” he told her.

“Okay,” Kayla said happily, making her way to the bedroom.

Matt finished arranging the flowers and placed them on the dining room table. Seeing that Kayla was in the bathroom, he went into his room and changed into some more comfortable.

Kayla walked into the bedroom a couple minutes later with her damp hair put up in a bun and opened the closet, to find herself a hoodie.

“Did you enjoy your birthday my love?” Matt asked as Kayla sat down at the vanity to take off her makeup.

Kayla grinned as she looked at her boyfriend who was already settled in the bed. “The best present anyone could’ve ever given me my love. I missed you so much.”

Kayla finished up her skincare routine and made her way to the bed, joining Matt. She snuggled up against her boyfriend and smiled. “Thank you for making today so special,” she yawned.

Matt hummed sleepily as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I love you,” he replied.

“Love you,” Kayla murmured, already dozing off.

Taglist

@dirtylittleheart333 @sturniolo04 @yourenogoodforme @flouvela @mattyblover07 @sturnioloveniamh @slutforsturniolos @ivysturnss

[gluion]

[TEASER] finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin

ji changmin x reader

with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.

inspired by ➵ "seasons" by wave to earth, the last five years

general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, the last five years story-telling method aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward (i hope that makes sense), missed chances, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, hurt/comfort, jealousy remains but love triumphs, tiger parents, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all

word count ➵ est. 10-15k [now available! read here]

playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by renee rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth

a/n ➵ shhhhhhh.... i know that i'm still writing this but a lil motivation and accountability goes a long way SOOO !!! this is just a lil teaser for the upcoming jichang fic for the deoboyznet event <33 thank you again to my lovely @hcuyk for beta reading !!! (i've only written 1/4 please understand.) but i'm dedicating this to my lovely @sungbeam whose love for changmin is one i'll forever feel even to my ribs and @wavesmp3 who forever remains an inspiration in the way i write </3 plus, i've posted these snippets anyway so :P if ure interested in this fic, feel free to ask to be part of the taglist for this! and dont forget to always leave feedback <3

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlists

it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.

the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.

a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was home cooked, something from home.

the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”

you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stocking up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”

“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”

“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”

“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”

your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”

“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”

you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.” 

“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”

the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob quickly runs away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.

your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.

and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.

but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.

but he bites the inside of his cheek, and his dimples appear.

it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?

you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.

your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”

“yeah, about that…”

“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”

at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”

“what? why?”

you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”

“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”

“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”

“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”

an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”

and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—

“y/n?”

and the plan failed.

when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.

all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”

a beat passes.

“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)

taglist ➵@winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs

[babsvibes]

BB Positivity Time! <3 What would be an ideal episode plot focusing on your favorite character? What about your favorite ship? Finally, your favorite familial/platonic relationship? Feel free to be as brief or or as detailed as you like!

Fantastic news, my favorite characters are also my favorite ship, so this answer works for them both!

But I want more than anything for a louigan episode where a mystery, like a significant item to a piece of lore goes missing, starts at Wagstaff, but sources are leading the Belchers to Huxley. There’s a moment where they think the mystery has hit a dead end, but Louise siiighs and goes “I know a guy.” She skips school, but Gene and Tina stay behind for class and so that they can say “this is HQ” when Louise gets a hold of them again. Cue the “well well well” moment, but once Logan hears about the mystery he becomes invested, maybe he just wants to skip too or maybe he cared about this old thing from when he was at Wagstaff. It turns into a banter-filled team up episode that ramps up the drama as it turns out there’s more than just a missing piece of history at stake.

As for my favorite family dynamic, I can’t possibly pick a favorite. Althoouugh

Linda and Louise episodes are extremely fun to me because they yes and each other, so any adventure they get into would be interesting! Maybe there’s a little twist where Gene, Tina, and Bob get to go out and do an adventurous thing, but Louise and Linda are the ones stuck at the restaurant so they end up making their own fun!