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55sturn · 2 days ago

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this was HOT !!! also i stg the title is a lyric but i cant think of the song

𝜗᭪ HE CAN’T KEEP HIS WILD EYES ON THE ROAD ─── m.s

⤷ in which . . . you tease matt while he’s driving, he can’t take it anymore and he pulls over.

⤷ warnings . . . smut, unprotected sex, backshots, blowjob, teasing, dirty talk, degradation, sexual acts in a moving car, (don’t do this) use of pet names, multiple orgasms.

⤷ written by @delilahsturniolo, do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

you found yourself driving home from a party with your boyfriend matt, the night still in its early stages as the moon glowed softly in the sky. you decided to wear your skimpiest outfit, consisting of a scandalously short skirt and a barely-there top that left little to the imagination. the fabric of your skirt clung to your thighs like a second skin, and the wind occasionally threatened to expose more than intended.

your skin was cool and smooth, and your breasts swayed tantalizingly beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, nipples already perked up and straining against the flimsy barrier. you made a point to take the passenger seat, a wicked grin on your lips as you purposefully adjusted your skirt to flash some extra leg to matt.

as you settled into the car, the warmth of the interior mingled with the crisp night air, creating a delicious contrast on your exposed skin. the moonlight streaming through the windows cast an ethereal glow over your body, accentuating every curve and contour in a way that made it nearly impossible for matt to keep his eyes on the road.

"god, you're looking good tonight," matt muttered under his breath as he started the engine. the rumble of the car vibrated beneath you, stirring a tingle of excitement in your belly. "thanks," you replied coyly, letting your voice drip with innuendo. "i was hoping you might appreciate my efforts." matt's gaze flickered to you briefly before he forced his attention back to the road. "appreciate? i can't keep my eyes off you," he admitted, his voice a little rougher than usual.

that was all the encouragement you needed. you reached over and lightly traced your fingers along matt's thigh, feeling the tense muscle beneath his jeans. "mmm, that's exactly what i wanted to hear." as you continued to drive, the tension in the car grew thicker. every now and then, you would slide a hand across matt's very visible erection, teasingly gauging his arousal. his erection pressed against the denim of his jeans, unmistakable and increasingly insistent. each time you touched him, a visible twitch would ripple through his body, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel. “fuck—stop baby..” he whined.

at last, you decided to up the ante. you reached down and deliberately pulled your top down, exposing your breasts to the cool night air. your nipples hardened further, standing erect and begging for attention. "keep your eyes on the road," you teased, your voice laced with challenge as you let your top stay down, breasts swaying rhythmically with the motion of the car.

matt's restraint snapped like a brittle twig. he slammed on the brakes, and before you could protest, he'd pulled over to the side of the road. in a heartbeat, he'd thrown the car into park and was out of his seat, storming around to your side of the vehicle. "get in the backseat," he growled, his voice a low rumble of desire as he yanked open your door.

you could have obeyed him, but where was the fun in that? instead, you raised an eyebrow and smirked. "make me," you taunted, the dare hanging in the air between you. matt didn't need to be told twice. he grabbed your wrist and pulled you roughly out of the car, his other hand wrapping firmly around your waist to steady you. you stumbled slightly as your legs were unaccustomed to the sudden change of altitude, but he held you securely against his body.

without another word, he pushed you toward the backseat. your heart hammered in your chest as you felt a jolt of excitement mixed with a touch of fear at his sudden ferocity. you climbed into the backseat, your skirt riding up even higher on your thighs as you settled onto the worn leather.

matt followed swiftly behind, his hands grasping at your hips as he spun you onto your hands and knees. you gasped as you felt the cool air hit your exposed backside, but before you could process the sensation, matt had aligned himself behind you.

"you asked for it," he hissed, his breath hot against your ear as he grasped your hips in a vice-like grip. then, without warning or mercy, he drove into you. you cried out at the intrusion, your body stretching to accommodate him as he filled you completely. every thrust sent jolts of pleasure coursing through your body, your walls clenching around him as he set a punishing pace.

your moans filled the confined space of the car, echoing off the windows as matt continued to fuck you roughly from behind. you could see their reflection in the glass, his grip on your hips, your breasts swaying with each of his thrusts, and his face twisted in a combination of pleasure and desperation. "you like that?" he grunted, his voice rough with lust as he reached around to grasp one of your swaying breasts. "you like being fucked like a dirty little slut?"

"yes," you gasped, the combination of his hand on your breast and his relentless thrusts pushing you closer to the edge. "gosh, yes." finally, after what felt like an eternity, matt pulled out of you. but instead of giving you a moment to catch your breath, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head up.

"come closer," he commanded. "suck my dick." matt turned you around to face him, positioning you. you obediently took his throbbing cock into your mouth without hesitation. the taste of him filled your senses. salty and primal, as you worked him with your lips and tongue. his hands tangled in your hair, guiding you up and down his length as he fucked your mouth with a ruthless abandon.

the world narrowed down to this moment, the feeling of his cock in your mouth, his hands in your hair, and the taste of him coating your tongue. you sucked and licked, determined to drive him over the edge as he had done for you.

matt's breathing grew ragged, his breathing becoming erratic as he approached his climax. with a final groan, he spilled into your mouth, his seed flooding your senses as you swallowed every drop. “this is what happens when you can’t keep your eyes on the road.” you smirked beneath matt, he only playfully rolled his eye. “pfft—don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” matt teased, flipping your skirt back down as he started to dress himself again. he really couldn’t keep his wild eyes on the road, not when it comes to you.

#star’s recs!

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55sturn · 2 days ago

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this one hurt like a mf

Lost Love - M.S.

"i know baby. i know. we're going to be okay." or... the one where you suffer a tragic loss during your first pregnancy with matt, and it nearly destroys you. warnings: pregnancy loss, miscarriage, depression, a lot of sadness, a lot of angst. matt being an absolute saint even though it's killing him too. word count: 628 a/n: requested by anon! disclaimer: in no way is this meant to be insensitive, or a lightly brushed over topic. miscarriages and pregnancy loss are tragedies nobody should have to go through, and my deepest condolences go out to you if you've experienced either.

"i lost the baby."

matt's world collapsed at just four words.

he'd frozen in shock, staring at you with a look in his eyes that told you he was desperately hoping to be hallucinating, to have heard you wrong, to be dreaming.

"w-what?"

tears began to flow from your eyes, taking his shock as anger. fear radiated through you, the emotions overwhelming as you just sunk to the floor, crying. matt immediately jumped into action, body encapsulating yours.

tears hit your head, and as you processed the fact that they were matt's, grief and pain hit you in the chest, your heart clenching to tight you felt like you couldn't breathe.

you have no idea how long you two were sitting there, crying in each other's arms as you began to process your new reality, hoping for some kind of miracle. matt was the first to move, slowly pulling his body off of yours, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

he didn't speak too much, gently holding your head up and using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your flowing tears. he softly kissed your forehead, silently encouraging you off the floor, letting you lay down against him on the couch. he grabbed some water from the side table, opening it and pointing it towards your lips.

"you need to drink something, baby."

you stared at the wall, not even acknowledging that he was there. your tears had stopped, numbness and silence suffocating the room.

"please."

the brokenness in his voice killed you. whatever was left of your heart shattered, and you realized you weren't the only one affected by this.

matt had just lost his child too.

you took a small sip of the water, matt forcing a smile out of his face as he told you he was proud of you.

"i don't know what i did wrong."

matt rushed to comfort you, reassure you immediately.

"no. this was not your fault. you were doing everything you could to take care of this baby. it is not your fault this happened."

you laughed, a cold, sharp, disbelieving one.

"then who's fault is it?"

"nobody's. sometimes this happens, and it's not comforting to know that. but it wasn't your fault."

you shook your head, tears forming again. you didn't attempt to stop them, crying into matt's chest as the waves of grief hit you once again.

"i don't know what to do."

"i know, baby. i know. we're going to be okay."

you looked up at him, eyes watery, blurry, his wet eyes looking back down at you.

"are we?"

he nodded, wiping a tear from your eye.

"we are. this is awful, and it's so hard, but we are going to be okay. this isn't going to ruin us."

you sighed, sadness encompassing your whole body, but finding comfort in knowing you weren't completely alone with this. you had help. you had support.

"i don't want to forget her."

matt hummed against your skin, quiet comfort radiating off of him.

"her?"

you nodded. you hadn't been far enough along to know the sex of the baby, but you had mother's intuition.

"it was a girl, matt. i can feel it."

matt stroked your hair, holding you tight against him.

"we won't forget her baby. there's no possible way. she'll live on in every piece of us, and we'll see parts of her in all of our life."

you nodded, tears beginning to flow once more. matt felt his eyes grow watery again, and just held you tighter to him. this was miserable, but he did sincerely believe his words.

you both were going to be okay. it would take a while, and it would be hard, but you would be okay.

#star’s recs!

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55sturn · 2 days ago

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the balenciaga belt ugh

⌞chris being an absolute munch⌝ ⸝⸝

warnings: pussy eating, fingering, overstimulation, dom!chris, boob grabbing, lmk if i missed anything

word count: 443

based off of this post ( @delilahsturniolo )

your loud moans filled the room, and chris didn’t even flinch. just groaned into your pussy and shoved two fingers inside you like he’d been waiting for you to start falling apart.

he curled them immediately, fucking you hard and deep while his mouth stayed locked on your clit, tongue moving fast and filthy. no build up, no teasing, just work. all wrist and spit and that hungry little growl he always gave when you started to soak his fingers.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” he muttered, voice muffled against you before he dove right back in. he spit on your clit, tongue spreading it around while he pounded his fingers into you rough and steady, knuckles slapping against you every time he bottomed out. “you like that? you like gettin’ fucked like this?”

“y-yeah, chris, fuck, don’t stop-” you gasped, voice catching when he curled his fingers just right.

he didn’t stop to listen, just laughed, low and wrecked, and added a third finger, stretching you open while his tongue flicked faster. his head moved like he was trying to devour you, shaking side to side, lips locked on your clit, sucking so hard your legs jolted.

“take it,” he growled, voice thick and mean, “take it just like that. come on. i know you’re close. i can feel you.”

“oh my god, i’m gonna- fuck, please, please,” you cried, barely aware of what you were saying, your hands clutching the sheets, his hair, anything.

and you were. you were so fucking close it hurt, your whole body twitching, hips rocking against his face like your life depended on it. his fingers hit that spot deep inside over and over, and he just kept moaning, eating you like it was his last meal, like making you cum on his tongue was the only thing that mattered.

then his free hand came up, grabbing your tit, squeezing hard while he buried his face deeper between your legs, grinding into you like he couldn’t get enough. spit, slick, everything dripping down your thighs, and still he didn’t stop.

you came hard, loud and shaking, and he held you there through all of it, fingers still fucking you through your high while his mouth stayed glued to your clit, licking you through every wave like he needed it.

“c-chris, s’too much, i can’t- ” you whimpered, trying to push him away, chest heaving.

he grabbed your hips and pulled you back down almost immediately. “nah,” he said, voice wrecked, breath hot and heavy. “we’re not done.”

his hand dropped, reaching down to undo his balenciaga belt. “you said you could take it, right? so fucking take it.”

────────────୨ৎ────────────

aurora's notes: im too tired to do the format i normally do, my deepest apologies. thank yew.

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

to be added to my taglist, comment on this post!

#star’s recs!

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55sturn · 2 days ago

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chris is the munch idc

WATERMELON SUGAR— C.S

pairing: fratboy!fwb!chris x fwb!reader

summary: 3 times when chris just couldn't get enough of your taste and can't go without it

cw: cursing, oral!f-receiving, hair pulling, oral!public(?)

an: sorry for the very late post.

fine line writing marathon

AT A PARTY

you had arrived at the party wearing that black mini skirt that always dives chris crazy. absolutely crazy. you didn't know chris had already arrived at the party, so you wandered into the kitchen to get yourself a drink. as you poured yourself the drink, you felt a warm hand on your hip and you already knew who it belonged to. "hey." he mumbled into your ear, leaving a light kiss just below your ear. you turned around and was met with his eyes already searching for yours.

"hey, you." you said, taking a sip from the red solo cup. "you wore that on purpose." he tugs a bit on the skin tight skirt. "mm, no i didn't." you shake your head. "sure you didn't." he smirks and his hand comes around to grip your ass. "chris— not here." you gasp and look around at the other people who lingered in the space. "nobody's watching." he murmurs, now beginning to grope your ass and kiss your neck.

"i fucking miss your taste, babe." he sucks the spot underneath your ear. "c'mon, i have to have you right now." he pulls away and grabs your hand. "what? where—" before you can finish talking he drags you through the sea of people and takes you upstairs to the nearest bathroom and closes the door, locking it. you're immediately pinned to the counter with chris' lips on yours.

"can i?" he practically whines and you already know what he's referring to. "mhm, please." you nod. chris leaves one last kiss on your lips and sinks to his knees. in one swift motion, both your skirt and lace thong are pooled at your feet and chris' tongue is running up and down your slick folds. "oh— fuck, chris!" your hand made its way to grip his hair.

chris looks up at your blissed out face as he keep licking at you and sucking your clit. "you taste so good, holy shit. so sweet." he murmurs against your wetness.

WHILE STUDYING

earlier in the day while you were in your 10am class, chris had sent you a message to go over the frat house later in the day for a hangout, which probably meant a hookup. classes were taking a toll on your that you were in need of a distraction and also some studying.

when you had arrived, chris had tried to get started right away, but you told him you needed to do some light studying beforehand. although he groaned and huffed, he sat next to you on the bed reading parts of your text book over your shoulder. "this shit is so boring, babe." his chin that was leaning on your shoulder turned and your felt a kiss on your neck. "i'm almost done, i promise. i have to get this out of the way or else i'll never get to it."

after a few morning minutes of reading, chris had had enough and went to lay by your legs and slowly started spreading them. "what are you doing?" you closed your book, marking your page with your thumb. "jus' gonna get a head start, yeah? keep on reading while i get a taste of you." he began to kiss up your legging covered thighs. "chris, fine—" he saw that you were about to put your book away, but he grabbed your hand. "ah— keep on reading."

seconds later, your leggings and panties were somewhere on the floor and you laid against chris' pillows with your book open next to your head, unattended. instead of having the book in your hand, chris' hair was. "right— shit— right there. oh my god!" you moaned, your hips rolling against his face. chris, groaning against your, mumbled those same words he always did. "you taste so fucking sweet. can't ever get enough." he dived right back in.

GOING ON A DRIVE

it was the way you looked out the window. maybe it was the way the green and red colors of the traffic lights casted over your face. or maybe it was the way he remembered how his face was buried between your thighs the other night.

chris had picked you up for a late night hang out to go watch the final showing of a new horror movie. as he pulled up to the parking lot, and parked in the secluded corner. before you could even open the door, chris grabbed you and put his lips on yours. "get in the backseat, yeah?" he pulled back and looked into your eyes. "chris, we'll get messy and all sweaty."

"no, i don't wanna fuck, at least not right now, i just wanna taste you before we go inside. please?" you couldn't help but smile at the way he was obsessed with giving you pleasure without giving him something in return. "okay, meet me back there." you gave him one last kiss on the mouth. chris exited the car as you crawled over the center console.

without any additional kissing or groping, your sweatpants and underwear had make their way to the front of the car and chris dove right into your pussy. his tongue messily licking and sucking you. the vibrations of his groans only make you leak even more. you loved the way that he could make you cum in a matter of minutes without even using his fingers inside of you, instead only licking, sucking, and prodding his tongue into your hole.

like muscle memory, he sucked your clit at a certain force and you were cumming. "oh, chris!" your legs began to shake and close around him. chris shook his head side your side lapping at you, trying to get everything you gave. knowing that you were about to become sensitive, he pulled away and crawled up to you to kiss you.

"fuck, i don't know if i could ever go without tasting you."

#star’s recs!

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55sturn · 2 days ago

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i need mean!chris like crazy but i would sob if he spoke to me this way

request:

teaser!mean!chris! x crybaby! nerd !reader

chris basically eats out reader as she’s trying to study, but chris forces her to/ taunts her to proceed with studying while he’s going down on her.

i hope this makes sense?? it was just a thought- 🙏

⌗ . . . STUDYING

WARNINGS : SMUT. MEAN!CHRIS. SUB!READER. ORAL (f receiving). TEASING. DEGRADING. PRAISING. OVERSTIMULATION.

“you said you had to study baby,” chris sneers, his body crouched on the floor between your legs—his face so close you could feel his breath against your sensitive skin.

god was he right—you were supposed to be studying for your upcoming test. but once he came in here and started teasing you? running his hands along your arms and whispering dirty things into your ears? you knew you were fucked.

your thighs suddenly twitch in his grasp as he began to hike them around his shoulders. “I– I do.” you whined softly, though you meant for it to not sound so desperate just to have his tongue buried in your pussy.

he smirks up at you, running his tongue along his bottom lip. “then go on.” he rasps, his hand tapping two fingers against your thigh. “read it.” and you sniffle slightly, shaking your head. your face is flushed—glasses starting to fog against your face from how hot you were. your hands were clenched in his hair—or really in whatever you could grab.

chris then leans in and presses his mouth to your soaked panties, mouthing at the fabric until your hips begin to buck up against his face. you hear him hum like it’s a fucking joke to him, like your squirming is just background noise. “cute little brain’s short-circuiting already, huh?” he mutters, pulling back slightly.

a loud whimper slips past your lips, your hips still grinding, but against nothing now. your eyes fluttered shut at the already overwhelming feeling of your arousal. but chris wasn’t appreciating your disobedience. his hand moved to pull back, and a sharp slap came down against your thigh.

the sting of his hand against your skin isn’t hard, but it was sharp enough to make your eyes fly open—realizing you were getting so caught up in your own head. your eyes flick down to him quickly. “did I tell you to close your eyes?”

your eyes go wide, quickly shaking your head. your voice was high pitched when you said a quick “no” to him. “no…” he echoes mockingly. “then keep ‘em open, sweetheart. you’re supposed to be studying, remember? or can you not do it anymore hm?” he taunts, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

your bottom lip began to tremble now, brows furrowing and you run your tongue along your lips. “I–I’m trying—i promise.” you try to beg sweetly.

but he just tsks.

“i know you are,” he coos sarcastically. “Trying real hard to be a good girl, huh?—mm, fuck, you’re soaked.” his fingers hook into the waist band of your panties and yanks them to the side. “s’like you were waiting for me hm?” he taunts, his eyes locking onto your soaked folds.

you shook your head. you weren’t waiting for him necessarily—but you couldn’t help to where your mind would wander when you got distracted. “wasn’t waitin’ for you. was—” you started to mumble, but he could see right through you.

he hums, ignoring your talking and leaned forward. he cuts you off with a flick of his tongue against your clit that makes you jolt in your seat, both of your hands scrambling for the edge of the desk.

“such a bad liar.” he growls against your cunt, his tongue licking again, slower this time. letting the pressure build while your legs tremble around him. he pulled away from your pussy for just a moment, his blue eyes flicking up to yours. “all wet and needy for me while pretending to study. poor baby doesn’t know what she wants.” his lips were wet, chin already glistening from your arousal.

“I—I do.” you gasp, the burn in your stomach already tightening way too fast. “chris, I—please.” he gives you a smug little smirk before he leans back in, bringing his hands up and spreading your folds with his thumbs before spitting directly onto your cunt.

you cry at the contact. and he doesn’t wait—he dives back in with slow, agonizing licks, alternating between flattening his tongue and wrapping his lips around your clit just to suck. “read the next line.” he says without lifting his mouth. his words muffled.

“c-cant..” you breathed, letting your hips shift up to grind against his face just the slightest. your mind was drifting again, not being able to focus on anything. you didn’t feel when he pulled back until—

slap.

this time it’s your cunt he taps, light but that doesn’t mean it didn’t send a jolt through your body. you gasp, your back arching against your chair at the feeling. “yes, you can. you’re my smart girl, right?” he purrs. “c’mon say it. say you’re my smart girl.”

your cheeks were burning, eyes welling a little. “m—I’m your smart girl.” you sob quietly. and he rewards you with bringing his mouth back, letting his lips wrap around your clit to suck once more, dragging his tongue hard and slow over your slit, letting you feel every hot inch of it.

“then act like it and read the line.” and so you reach for the book with trembling fingers. you try—god you fucking try. you squint your eyes, trying to blink past tears, and as soon as your lips part to get out one word—his tongue slides inside you.

a gasp slips from your lips, followed by a broken moan at the feeling of his tongue now beginning to fuck your soaked cunt. and he doesn’t stop when you start to whimper little ‘pleases’ and ‘i can’t’. he doesn’t slow—he just grabs your thighs and holds your legs wide open, burying his face deeper into your pussy as his tongue fucks you.

“keep going.” he growls against you—the vibrations of his voice making you sob. “come on, you wanted to study. don’t stop now. barely even done anything.” he was mocking you again. you should hate the way he’s speaking to you—making you feel as if you weren’t as smart as you were—but you didn’t. fuck you loved it.

you shook your head, sobbing harder. “i—can’t.” you said again, your voice cracking as you tremble, your hips rocking helplessly into his mouth. it wasn’t long before he pulled away again, making you whine at the loss.

“y’wanna be like that then baby, huh?” he asked, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your thighs now. “guess you’re failing your test baby.” he says as he brings a hand up and drags two fingers through your slit, smirking at how much of a mess you were.

you were so sensitive, thighs trying to close around his hand, but he just kept you open. “but, you’re real good at being my toy aren’t you?” he cooed, leaning back down again. “gonna ruin this pretty little pussy baby.”

a/n : i’d be the same. would not be able to focus one bit.

#star’s recs!#this was so hot bye

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55sturn · 2 days ago

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#needhim #needthat

. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ Sleepy Matt fucks your hand

⚠︎ smut, jerking off, he legit fucks ur hand lmao, jizz eruption 🌋

“fuck, baby,” matt hisses, his teeth gnawing onto his bottom lip as his eyes squint shut. the airy night breeze makes your skin touching his feel electric—like some sort of static energy that’s chasing through your veins.

squeezing the base of his cock in your hand, you smile against his mouth. a deep groan sounds. your heart drops as he grasps for your hips, his sleepy face seeming more alive.

“i—i can’t, i need…need you so bad,” he husks, his voice still tired and strained. you smile as he practically drags you onto his lap, forcing you to shift until your panties are sticky from the precum on his swollen tip.

leaning back down, you capture his mouth in yours. his tongue prods in between your lips hungrily, a certain desperation written in how he’s holding onto you and chasing after the kiss.

“matt…” you taunt, grinning as he stops kissing you back. he’s utterly consumed by pleasure, the feeling of your hand twisting around his length making his ears buzz.

“sweetheart…oh my…fuck, you’re killing me.”

it’s a bit concerning how much your face seems to brighten at the statement. matt finds the growing confidence leaking from your aura inspiring—melting even further under your touch as he starts to rut into your hand.

“plea—pl—mphf!”

he can’t even beg—not even a single coherent word can form as he lets his instincts fully take over.

“c’mon, matt…keep fucking my hand. god, look at you.”

matt follows your directions absentmindedly. his eyes screw shut, his lips parted as he lets out small groans interrupted by sharp breaths.

“gonna—gon—cum, i’m—ohmygod,” he cries, his body tensing as his dick pulses in your grip, thick ropes of warm cum dripping down your knuckles as you slow your rhythm.

riding down the high, he can’t help but look at you with tired eyes—the same tired eyes that made you eager to touch him.

“wanna go to bed after we clean up, hm?”

he nods at the question, lazily reaching out to grab and pull you with little concern for the mess on his half-hard cock.

“matt, i need to clean us up-"

“no. you need to cuddle me. please. i’m tired,” he grumbles, his voice brushing against the hairs on your neck.

you let out an airy laugh, looking down to see his eyes barely open. it makes you proud to see him like this—all messy, all yours.

it feels like a dream.

a/n: this is not proofread at all lmao but i loveeeeee sleepy matt where he looks all tired ✨ thank u for reading! any interaction is appreciated and check out my pinned for more!

with love and big tits, rose 🫶🏻

#star’s recs!

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55sturn · 2 days ago

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they’re so sexy together wtf

── Snow .ᐟ Reader x Matt

texts — he calls u cute and makes u horny? wut a bitch.

⚠︎ fluff, smut, sexting, playful banter, explicit descriptions of sex positions, praise kink, and more

• → au masterlist — au intro

a/n: the way i’d bite this mf hes so fine??!? anyhow, ty for reading and any interaction is appreciated!!! check out my pinned for more <333

with love and big tits, rose 🫶🏻

#star’s recs!

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55sturn · 2 days ago

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i actually shed quite a few tears ngl this was so achingly and hauntingly written and it’s so beautifully heartbreaking in the softest way holy shit sol i love ur writing

─ ⋮ ⌗ THE WEIGHT OF LETTING GO. . . ⟢ ARTIST.ᐟCHRIS ᵎᵎ

chapter 15

CONTENTS: heavy angst, terminal illness, grief + more…. WC: 5.4k

as always, but this time more than ever—this chapter belongs to this song. keep it on repeat.

a mother’s worst fear is losing her child.

from the second they’re placed in her arms, nothing else matters. not sleep, not time, not the parts of herself she used to guard so closely. she gives it all away, gladly. she’s there for the first cry, the first laugh, the first fever that keeps her up all night. she learns how to translate every sound, every shift in their breath. she shows up to every game, every concert, every parent-teacher meeting with circles under her eyes and a heart that stays cracked open. she’s the one who knows where the missing sock is, what night the science project is due, how to braid hair in five minutes flat. she catches them when they fall, and when she can’t, she’s the one who teaches them how to get back up. her life folds around theirs so completely, she forgets what it was before them.

a mother’s love truly knows no bounds.

it doesn’t hesitate. it doesn’t ask why. it just shows up every single time, no matter how tired, no matter how much it costs her. she’ll go without so her child doesn’t have to. she’ll soften her voice even when the world has made her hard. she’ll carry guilt that doesn’t belong to her just to make things easier. her body changes, her mind bends, her whole life reshapes itself around someone else’s needs without a second thought. and she does it all quietly, without needing recognition. because to her, that love isn’t a choice. it’s built-in. bone-deep. unconditional. it’s there in the way she worries, the way she gives, the way she never once thinks of herself first.

but the crueler truth, the one no one wants to name, is what it feels like to leave them behind. to watch the world keep spinning while your children are still learning how to stand on their own. to wonder if they’ve learned enough. if you’ve said the right things, taught the right lessons, loved them the right way. if they’ll know how to handle the nights that stretch too long or the mornings that start too quiet. if they’ll reach for comfort and find it missing. there’s no guide for that kind of goodbye. no moment where it suddenly feels okay. just the unbearable weight of not knowing how much more time you’ll have to remind them they were never alone.

unfortunately for evelyn, that fear has already begun to take shape. not in the way she once braced for — not with sirens or accidents or a phone call in the middle of the night but slowly, cruelly, in reverse. it’s her they’ll lose. her who’s running out of time. and there’s nothing she can do but watch from across the room as the people she loves most learn how to live without her. chris doesn’t know it yet, but she’s been studying him. holding onto every small softness that slips out when he’s not looking. the way his hand brushes lila’s hair behind her ear. the way he listens when star speaks. how he lets himself laugh, quietly, like it still surprises him. she watches all of it and wonders if it’ll be enough — if these moments will stay with them long after she’s gone. that’s the part no one tells you. how hard it is to let go when your love was the thing that held everything together. how it feels to fade out while they’re still figuring out how to stand. and how it breaks something deep in you, knowing they’ll be okay…but you won’t get to see it.

she sees it happen in real time. star pressing a kiss to lila’s hair, then slipping across the room without a word. she doesn’t make a sound as she folds herself into the space beside chris, knees tucked under her, shoulder brushing his. they don’t look at each other, don’t need to. their voices stay low, far too soft for anyone else to hear. but evelyn doesn’t need to hear them to understand. she watches chris lean in, watches the way his body loosens, how his jaw unclenches, how his hand finds its way to her knee like it’s done it a hundred times before. this is not the version of her son the world knows. not the guarded boy with heavy eyes and heavier shoulders. not the one who flinched when she reached for his hand after the diagnosis. this is the boy she raised. the one who used to crawl into her lap just because. the one who once believed the world could be good. and somehow, this girl — the one from the trailer park, the one who showed up like a storm and stayed like sunlight — has brought him back to her. not all at once. not fully. but in pieces. and evelyn, lying still in her bed, watching from across the room, holds onto that like it might be the last good thing she gets. because if she has to go, let it be with that image burned into her. her boy, soft again. her boy, loved. her boy, safe.

she turns her head toward lila next. her baby. her last. knees splayed out behind her on the floor, tongue poked out in concentration as she colors the corner of some half-finished picture. evelyn watches her hum under her breath, twisting the marker cap on and off, one sock already halfway off her foot. and it hits her all at once, how little time they’ve had. how the world gave her this bright, beautiful girl, only to start taking pieces of her away before evelyn ever got the chance to fully know her. seven years. that’s all she got. and three of them—three— were already eaten up by this sickness. hospital rooms. missed birthdays. cancelled sleepovers. the smell of antiseptic instead of cookies. the sound of machines instead of lullabies. evelyn worries that’s all lila will remember. not the pancakes shaped like hearts. not the songs she used to sing during bathtime. not the way she danced in the kitchen with her in her arms. just the tired version. the weak one. the mom who had to lie down. the mom who couldn’t come. the mom who faded too fast. and that’s the part she can’t shake. the guilt of being someone lila might spend her life trying not to forget. or worse—trying to forget it all.

she blinks slow, lets her eyes drift toward the ceiling, lets the weight settle in her bones. it’s been months since she left this room. months since she felt the sun on her face without a pane of glass between them. the last time was christmas. six months ago. the last time she pushed through the pain, the exhaustion, the tightness in her chest that made it hard to move, hard to breathe, hard to laugh without breaking into a cough that left her ribs sore for days. but she wanted that moment. just one. one last normal memory. she helped decorate the trailer, strung up dollar store lights around the windows, tied ribbon to every cabinet. lila helped her hang mistletoe in the doorway, giggling the whole time, plotting how to trap chris and star underneath it. and for a little while, it worked. the house was full of warmth and noise and too much sugar. she remembers sitting back on the couch, a blanket over her legs, and just watching. soaking them in. chris making pancakes in the kitchen. lila bouncing on the balls of her feet. star fixing the crooked star on top of the tree.

the morning of, she watched lila open her gifts in a flurry of tissue paper and taped-up boxes. the ones marked from santa, sure—but there were others, too. smaller ones. labeled in chris’s handwriting, but signed from mom. and it tugged at her in a way she couldn’t name. because she hadn’t shopped. hadn’t wrapped. hadn’t done anything but lie in bed and hope she’d still be there by morning. but chris had done it anyway. filled in the blank. made sure lila didn’t feel the absence. made sure she was still there, even when she couldn’t be.

by the time the sun had come up, she couldn’t hide the coughing anymore. it rattled through her like her body was hollow, like her lungs had finally had enough. and she remembers the look on chris’s face. the way the joy drained out of him all at once. the way his hands shook when he grabbed the keys. the drive to the hospital was a blur. a heaviness in her chest like a family of elephants had taken up residence there. it felt as though every breath came with a cost.

it’s the end of june now.

and she hasn’t been home since.

but of course, the quiet doesn’t last. it never does.

it starts low in her throat, barely there at first — a dry tickle, the kind she’s learned to swallow back. but this one builds. a cough that rips through her like it wants to take something with it. her whole body jerks forward, lungs squeezing against ribs that don’t bend the way they used to. and just like that, the moment fractures.

chris is up before she can blink, already at her side, one hand steadying her shoulder, the other reaching behind her to adjust the bed. he moves on instinct now. like he’s been rehearsing this. like he’s afraid if he fumbles it, she might disappear. lila’s voice goes quiet as she scrambles up from the floor, her little hands gripping the blanket over evelyn’s lap, eyes wide, lips pressed into a tight line. star is beside her next, calm but quick, straw already tucked into a cup before evelyn’s finished coughing. she doesn’t say anything. just holds it out, waiting. evelyn takes it with shaking hands, breath hitching around the rim, the worst of it passing, but the weight still sitting heavy in her chest.

she hates this part. the way everything else falls away. the way they all look at her when it happens. like she’s already half-gone.

“you want me to get a nurse?” chris asks, voice low but tight, already half-turned like he’s ready to bolt.

evelyn shakes her head, slow and stubborn. “no. m’okay.”

he doesn’t look convinced. she can see it in the way his jaw twitches, in the way his hand hovers at the edge of the call button like it’s burning through his skin.

“chris,” she says gently, forcing the words through what’s left of her breath. “sit down. i’m okay.”

star doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just keeps her hand curled loosely around the cup in case evelyn needs more. lila’s still holding onto the blanket, eyes trained on her like she’s waiting for permission to stop being afraid.

evelyn breathes in slow, shaky.

“just went down the wrong pipe,” she adds, offering the lie like it might still work. like they’re the kind of family who can afford to pretend.

no one believes her and the room goes quiet again. not the kind of quiet from before, not soft or warm. this one feels tight. stretched thin. chris stays standing, arms crossed now, like he doesn’t trust himself to sit. evelyn leans back against the pillows, trying to catch her breath without letting it show. and lila—sweet lila—has gone still beside her, eyes bouncing between the two of them like she knows something’s about to crack and she doesn’t know how to stop it.

star feels it deep in her bones.

the tension. the weight. the way hospitals trap you in the space between what is and what might be. it settles deep in her stomach, dredging up memories she doesn’t want to think about. she swallows it down, smooths her expression, and leans toward lila with a small smile.

“hey bug,” she says, nudging her gently. “you wanna go give some of those drawings to the nurses? bet they’d love to hang ‘em up.”

lila looks up, hesitant, eyes flicking to her mama, then to chris. star reaches for the pile of papers on the floor, fanning them out in her hand.

“come on. we’ll pick the best ones.”

it’s a gentle out, a quiet offering. not just for her and lila, but for chris and evelyn too.

and after a second, lila nods.

they slip out without much noise. just the soft shuffle of lila’s sneakers, star’s hand on the door, the whisper of papers in her other arm. the click of it closing behind them sounds louder than it should. final, almost.

evelyn shifts slowly, wincing as she adjusts the pillows behind her back. her hand moves to the empty space beside her and pats it gently, eyes lifting to find chris still standing where he was.

“c’mon don’t make me beg,” she says, a weak smile tugging at her mouth.

he huffs something quiet, barely a sound but after a second he moves carefully, like he’s afraid to break something, he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. then closer. until he’s lying beside her, head resting soft against her chest, arms drawn in like he used to when he was small. except now, he’s almost twice her size.and she’s smaller than she’s ever been. her skin like paper. her limbs frail and foreign, like she’s been whittled down to nothing by the months of medicine and waiting. she brushes her fingers through his hair, slow and careful. and for a moment, it’s just them again.

her hand stays in his hair, light and rhythmic, the same way it used to be when he’d crawl into her lap after nightmares. her voice breaks the silence, soft like she’s afraid to disturb the moment but knows it can’t stay untouched forever.

“i remember when i found out i was pregnant with you,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “i was so excited. and absolutely terrified.”

“i’d never been more sure of anything and still had no idea what i was doing. i used to lie awake at night with my hand on my stomach, just hoping i wouldn’t mess it up. hoping i’d be good enough for you.”

her fingers trace absent circles along the side of his head. her eyes are somewhere far off now. not in the room. not in the bed but back in that tiny apartment with the leaky faucet and the ugly carpet. back when she was barely older than chris is now.

“i told james in the parking lot of a grocery store,” she adds, the name slipping out before she means to. “thought he was gonna pass out right there between the cart return and the lottery machine.”

she feels it then. the way chris stiffens just slightly against her chest. not enough to pull away but just enough to remind her where the line is. how deep it still runs.

so she stops there and lets the memory hang without shape.

“but when they handed you to me,” she says quietly, steering back toward him, “everything got quiet. you looked up at me with that little wrinkled forehead and that tiny scowl like the world had already pissed you off. and i just… i knew. no matter how scared i was, no matter how much i didn’t have… i knew you were mine. and i was yours.”

she pauses, thumb brushing his temple.

“i still feel that way, y’know. every day. even now.”

her fingers move gently through his hair, like she’s memorizing the feeling again.

“i remember you used to line your toy trucks up in perfect little rows across the hallway. i’d step over them every morning on the way to the kitchen. god forbid i moved one—threw your whole day off.”

she smiles to herself, chest barely lifting with the breath.

“and you hated shoes. refused to wear them unless you absolutely had to. barefoot all the time. even outside. used to come in with dirt between your toes and pretend you had no idea how it got there.”

a soft laugh escapes her lips, small but real. chris doesn’t move, but she feels the weight of him shift just slightly, settling deeper into her side.

“you used to carry around that red bucket, remember? never filled it with anything in particular. sometimes rocks. sometimes string. once, i think you put one of your dad’s lighters in it. scared me half to death.”

she pauses again, smile fading only slightly.

“you were such a funny kid. serious, but so full of wonder. always building something. always asking how things worked.”

her hand slows in his hair, eyes drifting to the window now. the world still moving out there. still going on without her.

“i’ve been going back to those days a lot. in here,” she taps lightly against her temple, “when it gets too quiet. when the nurses change shifts and the tv’s playing the same damn cooking show for the third time in a row. i just… i close my eyes and pretend i’m back in that little hallway, stepping over your trucks. yelling at you to put your shoes on. making pancakes while you sat on the counter and stole chocolate chips out of the bag when you thought i wasn’t looking.”

she sighs softly.

“those were the best years of my life, chris. not because everything was easy. it wasn’t. but because i had you.”

“you know when i first realized you were gonna be an artist?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper now, like it’s just for him. “you were four. maybe five. you’d found a pack of crayons under the couch and drew all over the wall by the front door.”

her hand stills for a moment, resting gently on the side of his head.

“it wasn’t scribbles either. it was a whole scene. a house, a tree, a little stick figure with crazy hair—me, i think. and this tiny sun in the corner, smiling like it knew something i didn’t. was supposed to be mad. hell, i wanted to be. but i couldn’t stop staring at it. even then, you were saying things without having to say them. that’s always been your way.”

she looks down at him, the weight of her hand returning to his hair.

“every time you drew, i could see it. what you were too young—or too stubborn—to say out loud. when you were happy, your lines were light and fast. when you were angry, the whole page went dark. when you were scared, everything shrank. even now, when i see your sketches, i know. before you tell me anything. before you say a single word. your art… it’s always been the truest part of you. and the one thing that never shut me out.” her breath catches slightly, just enough for him to notice. and when she speaks again, her voice is different.

“you changed after your dad left,” she says, the words rougher now. thinner. like they’ve been hiding in her chest too long. “i think i did too.”

her eyes blink slow, her gaze still set somewhere far away. it takes effort now to keep going.

“it was like everything fell apart at once. the bills, the house, the noise. and lila was so small… she didn’t understand why he wasn’t coming back. i mean neither did i.”

chris listens to the way her heart pounds against her chest as she takes another deep breath before continuing.

“but you—god, chris, you didn’t even flinch. you just… stepped up. like it was nothing. like it was your job to hold everything together when i could barely get out of bed some mornings.you were sixteen. you should’ve been worrying about grades and girls and how much gas was in your tank. not whether your mom could keep the lights on. not how much chemo was gonna cost. not how to tell your little sister that her dad wasn’t coming home.”

her voice cracks, just barely.

“you were a kid.”

there’s a long pause. long enough that chris finally speaks, his voice low, steady, but full.

“you don’t have to feel guilty for that ma,” he says. “i’d do it all again.”

but she cuts him off,“no,” she says, shaking her head. “no, baby. it wasn’t your job. sickness or not. none of it should’ve been on you. you were my son, not my safety net. not lila’s father. just my sweet boy cleaning up his mom’s mess.”

her words hang heavy in the air, thicker than anything else in the room. chris doesn’t move at first. just lies there, his breath caught somewhere between his chest and his throat. he’s spent years carrying it. all of it. the pressure, the responsibility, the fear. and he never once let it show.

his fingers curl into the fabric of her shirt, slow at first, then tighter. his shoulders shake before his voice does.

“i didn’t know what else to do,” he says, barely audible. “you got sick. he left. lila needed someone. i didn’t know what else to do.”

his voice breaks on the last word, and he ducks his head into her chest like he used to when he was little, like if he hides there long enough, none of this will be real. he swallows hard, breath hitching, and for the first time in what feels like years, he lets himself fall apart.

“i was scared.”

the words barely make it out. swallowed by the fabric of her shirt, by the weight of everything he’s never said. a muffled sob follows, pulled from somewhere deep in his chest. the kind that doesn’t sound like it belongs to a grown man but to a boy who’s been holding his breath for years.

evelyn feels it. all of it. the way his body curls into hers, the way his fingers fist into the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping him from slipping under. and god, she wants to make it better. wants to lift the weight off his shoulders, wants to take it all back — the sickness, the fear, the too-many times she watched him choose responsibility over childhood.

“i know, baby,” she whispers, her voice catching. “i know you were.” she presses a kiss to the top of his head, eyes stinging, throat thick.

“you didn’t deserve any of it. not one second. and i’m so sorry i put you through that.”

he doesn’t answer. can’t. the sobs are quiet, but they don’t stop. and evelyn just holds him. rubs his back in slow circles. lets him cry the way he never got to. the way he never let himself.

she closes her eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, the warmth of him pressed against her. he’s too big to fit like this anymore, but she holds him anyway. like she used to when his legs were still short and his fears were smaller. like nothing in the world could touch him as long as he was in her arms.

she wishes that were still true.

“you were never supposed to carry it all,” she says softly. “i should’ve told you that sooner.” her hand finds its way back to his hair, brushing through it with the kind of tenderness only a mother has.

“but i saw you, chris. every single day. i saw how hard you tried. how much you gave. how much you hid, just to make everyone else feel okay.” her voice trembles again, but she doesn’t stop.

“you kept this family together. and i know that came at a cost.”

his shoulders still shaking, and she presses another kiss to his hairline. lets her lips linger there.

“i just want you to know… you don’t have to be the strong one all the time. not anymore.”

“i don’t know how to do this.” he doesn’t look at her when he says it. can’t. his gaze stays somewhere on her blanket, like if he looks at her face, he’ll fall apart all over again.

“i don’t know how to let you go.” his breath hitches, thick and unsteady, and the words tumble out faster now, like they’ve been waiting years to escape.

“i try to act like i’m fine, like i’ve got it handled, but i’m not fine. i’m not. i’m fucking scared all the time. i wake up every day and feel like something’s sitting on my chest and i can’t get it off. i keep thinking about lila and how the hell i’m supposed to be both her brother and her parent. i keep thinking about what happens when you’re not here anymore and no one else knows how to hold us together.”

he finally looks at her, and it’s all there on his face. the fear. the guilt. the sheer exhaustion that’s lived under his skin for far too long.

“i’m so tired, ma.”

his voice breaks on the last word. not just cracked—shattered. like it’s taken everything in him to say it. he swallows hard, knuckles pressed to his mouth like he’s trying to shove the rest of it down.

“i don’t know how to do this without you.” he’s quiet after that. not because he’s done feeling—but because he’s said it now. all of it. everything he’s been carrying in silence. and for the first time, it’s not just his anymore.

evelyn’s quiet, like she’s gathering the right words from somewhere deep inside her.

“you won’t have to do it alone.”

chris’s brows pull in just a little, his eyes still puffy and red. evelyn smiles faintly, barely there, and lets her fingers trace the curve of his ear like she used to when he was a baby.

“i haven’t been around for everything,” she says gently. “not the way i wanted to be. not these past few months. but i’ve seen enough. i saw it the second she walked through the door.”

“that girl loves you,” evelyn says. “and you love her.”

his jaw tightens, just slightly.

“you can’t deny it,” she adds. “i know you haven’t told her. i know you probably haven’t even admitted it to yourself. but i’m your mother, chris. i know more about you than you know about you.” he blinks slowly, then glances away toward the window, toward the hallway where star and lila disappeared.

evelyn keeps going, “i’ve watched the way you are around her. the way your face softens. the way you listen. the way you breathe easier when she’s near. and i don’t mean just comfort. i mean peace. real peace. the kind that only shows up when you’ve found your person.”

he shifts again, shoulders curling inward, almost like he wants to argue — but he doesn’t.

“she brings out my little boy again,” evelyn continues, softer now. “the one who used to laugh at his own jokes. the one who asked a million questions about everything. she makes you soft again. in the best way.”

“i’m not—” chris starts, but it’s barely a protest, and evelyn cuts him off with a look.

“don’t,” she says gently. “don’t lie to me, not about this.”

his mouth opens like he might try again, but it just closes around a breath instead.

evelyn leans her head back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut for a second,

“you tried so hard to act like you were fine without her when everything happened,” she murmurs. “but you weren’t. and that’s okay. no one wants to live without the person who makes them feel like home.”

he swallows hard, his throat aching.

“you don’t have to be scared of loving her,” she says. “you already do.”

silence falls over the two of them again, chris’ thoughts swarming in his head.

“yeah.” his voice is rough, but there’s no hesitation.

evelyn opens her eyes, turning them toward him.

“yeah?” she repeats, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

he nods once. exhales like something he’s been holding just let go.

“i do,” he says. “i love star.”

the words sit in the air for a moment.

evelyn lets out the softest breath of a laugh, not surprised. not at all.

“told ya so,” she whispers.

chris rests his head back on her chest, eyes fluttering shut, letting the silence settle in again. and for the first time in a long time, he feels like maybe he’ll be okay. maybe not for a while but someday because she’s right, he won’t have to do it alone.

the door creaks open a few minutes later. not loud, but enough to pull chris’s eyes open again.

star steps in first, holding the drawings like a stack of fragile glass. lila trails just behind her, one arm wrapped around star’s leg, the other clutching a blue crayon she must’ve stolen from the nurse’s desk. her hair’s a little messier than before, her cheeks slightly flushed, but her eyes go straight to the bed.

“hi mama,” she says, voice still small but steadier now.

evelyn turns her head toward them, smiling soft. “hey, baby.”

lila crosses the room quickly, her sneakers barely making a sound against the tile, and climbs up onto the edge of the bed without waiting for permission. she curls herself into evelyn’s side, opposite of chris, careful like she’s learning how to be gentle. her little fingers pick at the hem of evelyn’s blanket.

“i gave nurse julie the one with the hearts,” she says. “she said she’s gonna tape it to the coffee machine.”

“did she?” evelyn murmurs. “she’ll think of you every time she gets her caffeine.”

lila grins a little at that and leans her head down.

star doesn’t say anything at first. just lingers near the foot of the bed, eyes flicking from evelyn to chris and back again. but there’s something knowing in her expression. not pity. not worry. just awareness. like she can feel the air in the room has shifted — like something unspoken passed between them while she was gone.

her eyes land on chris last. his face is still a little blotchy, his lashes still damp, but his shoulders are looser now. his grip on the blanket has eased. he looks at her like he knows she knows. and she does. but she doesn’t ask, just gives the smallest nod, like okay i’m here.

evelyn watches it all unfold from her place in the middle. her boy beside her, her baby girl tucked into her side, and this girl—this unexpected, remarkable girl—standing at the edge of the bed like she’s always belonged there.

“come here, sweetheart,” evelyn says softly, reaching a hand out. it trembles a little, but it stays steady enough to hold.

star walks around to the other side and lowers herself onto the edge of the bed, just near chris. she doesn’t speak, doesn’t look away and her hand finds evelyn’s and squeezes. chris doesn’t move, but his arm shifts just enough to brush against hers. lila yawns quietly and snuggles deeper into evelyn’s side, her thumb grazing the edge of the blanket, her body warm and familiar and safe. and for a moment, no one says anything. they just stay there, pressed close & quiet. together.

because even if the world outside keeps spinning, even if everything is about to change, right now, in this small hospital room with the lights dimmed low and the machines humming steady, they still have this.

this — this is what every fear had always come down to. the leaving. the letting go, the knowing they’d have to figure out how to live without her. but as she lies there, her son pressed to one side, her daughter curled into the other, and star’s hand wrapped gently in her own, evelyn feels something she hasn’t in a long time.

relief.

because yes, a mother’s worst fear is losing her child and for a while, that’s what she braced for. every appointment, every scan, every late-night ache in her bones felt like a countdown to being taken from them too soon.

but this…this is different.

she knows now that it won’t be the end of them. not even close. chris will be okay. he’s tired, but he’s still here. still loving. still showing up. and he’s not alone anymore. lila will be loved. raised in a house where someone knows her favorite snack and which nightlight she refuses to sleep without. and star—star will be the one who softens the edges when grief gets too sharp. who reminds them how to laugh and how to breathe.

evelyn lets her eyes close, the weight in her chest still heavy, but not so crushing anymore.

they’ll be okay without me.

authors note: welp! this took almost a month to write? kept pushing it off cause well…!

#star’s recs!

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