#chris.005

[rn-zane]

TIMING: november 1st SETTING: zane's house PARTIES: @chrisgates + @rn-zane SUMMARY: chris takes zane up on his offer to crash at the house and finally has a good night sleep. no one is bleeding or almost dying for a change.

Chris stood outside Zane’s house with the front door key in hand and a small, grocery bag in the other. He looked a little conflicted as he stared at the metal object in the middle of his palm. It felt a little odd to enter the other man’s home without him there, but he’d been given explicit permission — and he had the messages to prove it in case anyone asked. Still, he couldn’t help but to hesitate before resigning that it wouldn’t have been offered if Zane hadn’t meant it. With a decision made up, he unlocked the front door, slipped inside and locked it immediately behind him.

Other than the distant sound of laughter from a trick-or-treater or two, the house was quiet. It felt different with Zane gone, but it was still better than the small cell-like motel room. While it had its charms and coziness when he’d first moved in, the Bearcliff motel started to feel more and more like a prison than a place to rest. He was grateful for this reprieve, even if he had to spend the evening alone. Chris removed his shoes at the door, a habit forced onto him, and set the bag onto the couch side table. He stared down at one of the cushions for a moment, noting the faintness of stains that lingered in the fabric before he turned back to the bag.

The rustling of plastic filled the room when he opened it and procured the outfit Zane had lent him the last time he was there — as well as the sweater from that first time. Apparently it had gotten lost among Chris’ other clothes, forever eaten by the hamper — or so he’d thought. He set the loosely folded items onto the table, balled up the shopping bag, and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. A stomach growl erupted from the depths of his stomach, which promptly reminded him that Zane had mentioned snacks. Now, he did feel a little embarrassed to be taken care of, especially so frequently, but he would be a fool to turn down food.

The house was big and the quiet was constant, but the snacks and change in scenery helped to ease some of Chris’ Halloween anxiety. He nested himself onto the same couch, a familiar and somewhat comfortable spot, with a blanket and munched away while he perused on his phone. Every so often he’d respond to a message from Zane or reply to an email regarding an order, but the sound of a Youtube video ended up filling the space as he drifted off to sleep.

—--

Excusing himself regularly to sneak a look at his phone was a new thing for Zane, his cell usually kept somewhere to the side while he worked since there was never really anything pressing to look at. Now, he found himself eager to check it between patients, hurriedly typing away a reply to Chris, heart warm at the thought of him finding comfort in the house. It wasn’t much but so far, it felt like the one genuinely helpful thing Zane had been able to do for the other man throughout all of their interactions. 

The other nurses noticed his distracted state, of course, nothing getting past those keen eyes. Their smiles were teasing as they poked fun at him, asking who the lucky guy was and leading to a very unconvincing argument that it was just a friend. They didn’t believe him and probably had no reason to as he got visibly flustered. A friend, just casually staying at his house? If they’d gotten any more details, Zane’s story would have sounded even less convincing. The fact that he was rushing home the second his shift ended definitely left his coworkers smiling coyly at his back. 

It was still dark by the time he trudged up to the house, sun just barely starting to make its presence known, so Zane moved quietly. It was a strange comfort, knowing there was someone inside, other than Buddy who was usually too lazy to even greet him at the door. His eyes adjusted to the dark quickly, spotting Chris bundled up on the couch and it reflectively brought a soft smile to Zane’s face. He finally looked goshdarn peaceful, curls framing the relaxed face and the remnants of snacks consumed littered on the small coffee table. 

For a moment Zane wished he needed to sleep, wanted to have a solid reason to tear himself away from his current spot where he was acting like a certified freak. Really living up to that romance-vampire farce. Finally snapping out of the daze, the thought of having someone to wake up with or come home to every day, the thought that things weren’t messed up, Zane resigned himself to a shower instead. Excited for Chris to wake up, to talk to him in person after the night of online messaging, but in no way prepared to wake him from the peaceful sleep. 

Hands ran through wet curls once the night shift had been washed off, thoughts about how much he needed a haircut occupying his mind as a towel got wrapped around his waist. His attempts to not think about Chris being asleep in the other room while showering had been successful enough to make Zane distractedly leave the bathroom on a mission towards his room, fully forgetting that someone might have been awake out there by now. 

—

Suffocated by nightmares or dead to the world were the only two ways of sleep that Chris tended to get — if he even slept at all. Fortunately, the sandman found a modicum of mercy that night and did allow him to sleep without too much twitching, talking, or tossing. He was able to curl up and bury his face into the couch cushions, a blanket wrapped tightly around him to keep his warmth close. He didn’t hear the front door open. He didn’t know that Zane had come home.

He thought something was off, however, when Chris did open his eyes for just a crack as he started to rouse. The plan was to close them again, to roll over and go back to sleep for who knew how long, but the sight of something other than the motel wall or flat pillow or plastic alarm clock sent a shock of sudden confusion and brief terror. Familiarity rolled back into him the minute he sat up. You’re fine, he told himself as he steadied his breath. You’re safe.

Chris loosened his grip on the couch and leaned against the back of it. His elbow pressed down into the cushion while his chin rested in his hand, ready to fall back asleep like that. He took note of the trash on the coffee table and sighed again. He was about to chastise himself for not taking care of his garbage before passing out when he heard a noise come from the direction of the bathroom. The light that eagerly tried to peak in through the curtains meant that it was morning. Did that mean Zane was back from work?

A beat of silence had Chris listening intently, though nervously. “Zane?” He called out, hesitantly, sleepily, and completely unsure of himself. What if it wasn’t Zane? What if someone else lived there, or if those other friends of his could get in, if they knew where the key was… He sat there with his eyes on the archway that led towards the hallway that contained the bathroom, alert and with breath held.

—

It was a matter of debate who got startled worse once Zane rounded the corner, him or the houseguest he had let slip from his mind. Post night shift brain fog was real but this felt like a giant oversight on his part, parading around the house in nothing but a towel. At the very least, he would have called out before exiting the bathroom, probably even doubled or tripled the amount of towels. Backtracking honestly felt like an option at one point but in the end, that seemed much more telling than simply swallowing his awkwardness and fumbling through this. 

“Hi! Hey, you’re… you’re up. Sorry I didn’t - I mean, I didn’t want to wake you when I got home because you looked way too comfortable.” Not that he’d been looking looking… One hand furtively moved to grip the edge of the towel, keeping it firmly in place even though Chris was definitely entitled to being on the other spectrum of accidental nudity for once. A stray drop of water trickled down his neck and Zane suppressed a shiver, feeling much more exposed now than the other night, every other aspect having been dimmed by blood and injury and panic. 

Now he was just standing half-naked in his own living room, trying to filter out all the weird things his brain was suggesting he say at this moment. 

“Guess it’s about time you got to be the fully dressed and not awkward one for once.” Yeah, weird shit like that. “Not that you’ve had any reason to be awkward, obviously. I mean, not obviously but more like, it’s not like you have anything to feel awkward about. In the sense that you’re… uhm. How was your night?” A very smooth save. Zane couldn’t help chuckling at himself, head shaking and eyes averting to the floor. “Sorry. Brain’s not… good after a night shift.”

—

Oh. Oh, good, it was just Zane. No one else had managed to sneak into the house and he didn’t wake to find himself somewhere else, somewhere horrible. He hadn’t dreamt the whole past month or so either, even though he sort of wished he had. No, this was real and Zane was there and everything was fine — for now. His own relief took hold quickly and visibly eased the stiffness in his shoulders and tension in his arms, but the other man still looked a little perturbed. Maybe it had something to do with the towel around his waist.

Chris expelled a calmer breath. “Hey,” he returned with a smile before shaking his head. “Oh, no worries, I think I needed the sleep anyway.. So thanks for not waking me up,” he finished with a small laugh. He sat up a bit better, now that he knew he didn’t need to make a beeline for an exit or fight for his life, and rubbed at his eyes to wake himself some more. He still felt tired, of course. He didn’t think that would ever go away. But last night’s rest had been one of the better nights; he was grateful it hadn’t been interrupted. He didn’t think it would really end well, either.

Zane stumbling over his words earned a laugh from the seated blonde who had just started to stretch his arms. “It’s okay, I get it. I, uh… I can definitely relate,” he pointed to his own head before uttering another little laugh and brushing away a stray curl that started to tickle one of his brows. “My night was… Good, pretty good. Definitely five stars compared to some of my other nights..” Another chuckle, this time with a tinge of that awkwardness Zane so endearingly threw out into the universe.

“Was work okay? When did you even get in? I didn’t hear a thing…” He asked with a more comfortable smile before his eyes widened with an ‘oh!’ and he patted one of the arm’s of the couch, the one closest to the side table. “I also, uh.. Brought you your clothes back. I cleaned them, of course.. I’m sorry if I stretched them out or anything. I tried really hard to be careful about taking them off…”

—

It probably proved how little Zane knew the other man, how surprised he was at Chris’s complete lack of discomfort at the situation this rambling was in no way improving. He mostly just looked relieved to see him, which did work some to calm the storm of anxious thoughts in Zane’s mind. Asking a question had seemed like the best way to divert the conversation back into something normal but he hadn’t figured for the actual conversation to follow. At least Chris’s laugh was helping to distract from the current situation. 

“Definitely less blood,” Zane agreed, smiling and letting himself once again enjoy just how calm the man looked, such a stark contrast from each and every one of their last meetings. 

He finally shifted, letting his feet move from being glued to the ground in mild terror, risking a few steps closer to the couch since standing all this distance away felt dumb. “Work was fine. Definitely busy, plenty of drunk people.” Zane sighed, recounting the hectic night. “Less weird than I expected, to be honest,” he chuckled, raking back the wet curls that were trying to drip into his face now. Attention turned to the clothes resting on the couch and he smiled wide, recognizing the hoodie from way back when. 

“Heh, thanks. Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t even expecting them back, anyway.” Closing the rest of the distance, Zane pulled the hoodie from the neatly folded pile, shrugging it on and feeling that much less exposed. Although it still smelled faintly of Chris which was a different problem all on its own. “I’m gonna put on some… more clothes,” he said sheepishly, shuffling his feet towards the stairs. “Help yourself to cereal in the kitchen if you want.” 

Once he finally had the comfort of pants, Zane returned downstairs with a skeptical Buddy in tow. Knowing Chris, the baku had probably gotten a decent meal last night. He left the hoodie on, zipped up to cover the faint remnants of the wolf’s damage, chastising himself for just how much he was letting himself enjoy the warm smell. “I totally forgot to mention the only other living thing in this house,” he started once Chris was in sight, gesturing down to Buddy who regarded the other man with wary curiosity. “This is Buddy. He, uh… eats nightmares.”

—

Chris had always felt sensitive to people’s emotions or to their posture — for as long as he could remember, he had the ability to read the room and adjust to it. Or leave, if it came down to it. He could generally tell if someone was happy or sad — or uncomfortable (was that the trauma or the wolf?). He could see a little in Zane, or rather, feel it. But he couldn’t blame him; the situation was too messed up, it felt surreal. At least, it didn’t feel completely like the nightmares that terrorized him. At least, Zane was there to make it a little bit better.

“Less weird?” He parroted, “that’s a good thing though, right?” Chris leaned back into the couch, happy with the comfort it gave him. “What were you expecting?” He asked, genuinely curious. He’d only ever witnessed the crazy a couple of times, but he assumed the ER was hectic during most, if not all, major holidays. It was over, though, and Zane was reunited with the sweaters he’d so willingly handed over. He watched as the hoodie was slipped on, effectively hiding Zane’s chest and the claw remnants that marked it. “It’s the least I could do… I wouldn’t be able to not return them, anyway.” Unless he broke them by accident, then he’d probably just get him a new one.

“Oh, yeah dude, go. Take your time.” Cereal sounded good; his stomach growled on cue, empty and with hunger pains. He was hungry, though something richer, more savory was preferred, like eggs or sausage, but the cereal would have to do. He found a seat in the kitchen, figuring it was better to eat in there than in the living room and had nearly finished the first bowl when Zane returned, this time clothed and dryer than before. Good. The damage Chris had supposedly done to the other man’s skin was a little too distracting for breakfast. He didn’t need to worry about that, though, not when there was an animal in the room.

He had paused mid-bite when he saw the creature that Zane referred to. It wasn’t a dog, no, nor a pig or a miniature pony — or really anything that could be considered a pet. Maybe it was something exotic, but again, nothing really sprang to mind when he took in Buddy’s appearance, tilting his head as if that would help him discern what he was. He looked back at the creature just as warily, chewing until his mouth was free so he could reply.

“Hey, Buddy…” Chris greet with a small, confused wave from his free hand. His head tilted to the other side as he regarded Zane’s… friend. The nightmare bit gave him pause. “What do you mean, he eats nightmares? Like, actually? … What is he?”

—

Leaning against the doorway, brown eyes flickered with mild worry between Buddy and Chris, the two now staring each other down. The baku seemed slightly on edge, perhaps sensing some sort of animalistic kinship in the man, stuck between that wariness and wanting to display affection for the lovely meal last night. Eventually, the baku dared to trod away from Zane’s side, moving closer to Chris after the hesitant greeting was delivered. As the long snout sniffed at the house guest’s feet, Zane relaxed and found himself smiling at the other’s adorable look of confusion. 

“Yeah, for real. He’s something called a baku, apparently. I had no idea, just brought him in off the street one day and a friend provided me with some information. Mostly the ‘eating nightmares’ part, although they didn’t really give me any specifics into how that actually works.” Finally moving into the kitchen, Zane took a seat opposite Chris, the domesticity of the situation making him feel warm in the same way the hoodie did before he derailed himself quickly from that train of thought. “He’s not dangerous or anything, just… feeds on nightmares, I guess. So if you had a good sleep, you probably have him to thank.” Zane paused, smiling once again as he looked down to see the baku still furiously investigating Chris now that he felt comfortable. 

“I can’t really tell you much else, don’t really sleep so no nightmares to even get eaten. Oh! Coffee.” Chair scraping the floor as he pushed back, Zane busied himself with making coffee, realizing as he started that he didn’t even know if Chris drank coffee. Well, at least it gave him something to do other than push away uninvited thoughts that seemed stronger than ever now that neither of them were bleeding or in mortal danger. 

—

As far as Chris knew, animals didn’t like him. He wasn’t allowed to have any pets growing up and when he tried to get one as an adult, that failed spectacularly. Reactions to him varied - some ran in an attempt to put as much distance between them as possible while others tried to bite him. He did his best not to think about how people liked to say that animals could tell if a person was “bad” or “evil” in some way, but it was difficult. 

This guy, though, didn’t seem to mind him. In fact, despite its initial wariness, it seemed curious for the stranger. The sniffling at his feet made Chris smile. The tidbit about “eating nightmares” sounded a little fake, in his opinion, but there was a lot in Wicked’s Rest that he couldn’t exactly explain - and he did have a decent night’s rest, definitely nightmare free, but that didn’t mean the baku did it. Right? Maybe he just felt comfortable there. 

Chris reached down and offered Buddy one of his hands as sacrifice to its trunk-like nose. Every bout of snuffling sent a tickle through him. “I did get a good sleep, actually… For once,” he finished with a breath of a chuckle. “I’m glad he likes me. I don’t have this kind of luck with animals.” Not up close, anyway. He could take hours of photos of animals from afar, but up close? He tended to be an interesting catalyst. “How long have you had him for?” He asked after a beat.

Hypocritically, he was about to tell Zane that sleep was important and he should probably start doing that, having completely forgotten about the whole “vampire” bit, until he had jumped up with the mention of coffee. In truth, Chris didn’t really drink coffee. He did like it, especially sweet, but it had a tendency to not agree with him and so he did his best to stay away from it. But if Zane was going to make him some, he couldn’t say no. Not after the way the other man hurried up from his seat to make him something warm to drink.

Even though it was moot at this point, he did hear himself say that he didn’t have to make him anything, but the thank you that followed up was said in earnest and with appreciation. His fingers found the top of Buddy’s head and gave the skin there a gentle scratch. The smell of the coffee was comforting as it brewed and between the attention from Buddy and the calmness that settled in the kitchen sent a beat of warmth through him. This was really nice.

—

Zane couldn’t help the regular glances over his shoulder as the water came to a boil, catching glimpses of Chris smiling down at his strange animal. Maybe it should have been obvious that an actual werewolf wouldn’t be too put off by a weird, little creature like Buddy but then again, Chris wasn’t exactly all chill when it came to the supernatural. Which just made this actually normal morning, sans the nightmare eating pet, even nicer. “That’s good. And by the way, no way you’re sleeping on a couch next time. I mean, if you want to crash here again sometime, obviously. There’s plenty of spare bedrooms.”

Chuckling at the bit of bonding happening behind his back, Zane shrugged. “I’ve had him for a few months now, actually. And he’s not too hard to win over. Some petting and, in your case, a meal, is all it takes. And he can probably tell that you’re nice.” Where other animals wouldn’t - although Zane refused to believe it was because they didn’t trust Chris. As someone who had looked directly into the eyes of whatever Chris shared his consciousness with, Zane knew they were two different entities entirely. So if animals didn’t like the man calmly eating cereal and patting the baku, that was through no fault of Chris’s. 

“Okay, so…” Two cups were brought to the table, followed by the pot of coffee and some milk and lastly, a couple of bottles of syrup. “My tastebuds got all sorts of messed after I… yeah - but it didn’t manage to get rid of my awful habit for sweet things so… got caramel and chocolate if you’re a fake grown up like me.” Planting himself at the table, forcing himself to sit still for a moment, Zane smiled. Even if Chris decided he was better off sleeping at his own place, this morning, awkwardness and all, had been very welcome. 

[drfirsnogayny]

Crossover Halloween AU at Kindergarten and at Flower Color Gram AU

I position FCG Halloween as my AU because these are not official designs, unless everyone else decides to admit it. And I'm also not sure that I would have had time to draw it all before Halloween, so that's the only way. Maybe I'll do the full versions later.

(None of this is shipping. It's just duets and trios that have a similar role or species)

Halloween AU by @gabycantart @flower-color-gram

Adonis by @cloverstar-li, Alina by @onsennnnn

Abigal by @ketchupandpickles, Callum by @juststupid882

I decided to leave the version with Austin the Pirate, because otherwise Abigal would not have had a character in the duo.

Pixy by @bebebowie, Mike by @rainrayne

Chris by @cloverstar-li

Hop by @milgoooram

Ivy by @lammy-art

Byron by me

And bonuses:

Old version + Mike as a vampire

I wanted to make full-length versions, but then abandoned this idea in favor of what I had already done.

There is also an alternative version of Mike, especially considering that he is Felix and Ted's brother according to FCG canon

And another crossover

But, since the plot of Cleavers Cult runs simultaneously with the plot of BRev (after twenty years of Kindergarten events), I raised the age for Felix and Theodore.

[flower-color-gram]

The prisoner....

You will see them soon...

Starting 20/7/24

We will post every week, prepare..

Get ready!

[megalony]

Dad's Coming Home

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine I had a little idea for and as I've had a few requests for some more deaf! reader I decided to include one with Eddie for a change.

I hope you all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog @bear8585 @nickie-amore @elliott-calls @person-005 @mbioooo0000 @amara-mars

@teenwolfbitches28 @mandmilovehim @jooniesbears-blog

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While Eddie is on shift, he gets a call from the kids asking him to come home. His eldest is having a bad seizure and they need help.

(Deaf! reader)

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie grinned around the toothbrush clasped between his teeth and his chest vibrated with a chuckle when he tilted his head down. He could feel a tiny fist tapping and bashing against his bare chest and when that soft hand began to rub up and down his chest, Eddie couldn't help but squirm at the ticklish feeling it created.

It was almost as if the newborn in his arm knew exactly what she was doing and exactly where to nudge Eddie and tickle him.

And when her head turned to the side and Eddie felt her lips pressing against his skin instead, it felt like she was trying to kiss him.

He made sure to keep his youngest girl steady in his left arm and his thumb glided up and down her leg as he jostled and rocked her in his arm. Tilting his head down, Eddie swirled his mouth out and tossed his toothbrush back into the holder in front of the mirror.

"Okay, come on baby girl."

He carefully readjusted Marie so her cheek was pressed against his bare shoulder and she was curled up into his upper chest. His hand cradled the back of her head and ruffled the soft wisps of hair she had and when he started to walk out the bathroom, he turned his head to kiss her temple.

He smiled to himself as his nose nudged against her hair that felt like cotton wool. Marie was much like Chris had been when he was born in the sense that both of them had very little hair. Not like Florence, when their eldest had been born Eddie had been shocked at the volume of fluffy hair his girl had.

His thumb began to stroke up and down the back of her head and the nape of her neck as he headed down the hall back towards the bedroom.

The smile on Eddie's face melted into something sweeter when he headed into the bedroom and looked ahead of him. His sights set on his wife instantly and for a moment, he stood just over the threshold of the doorway, content in watching her for a few seconds or more.

The way she lolled her head from left to right as if she were preparing to enter some kind of dance. The way her hips swayed in tandem with her head and shimmied to either side made her look like a dancer. And he could hear her humming. Not loud, not enough to be classed as singing a tune or loud enough for anyone else to hear, but just enough that Eddie could pick up on the quiet sound as if they were vibrations he could see through the air.

He watched her hands glide up to gather up her hair into a loose, quick style at the back of her head so it wasn't in her way. And Eddie watched the look of surprise that flooded her face and caused her lips to part when she turned on the spot and suddenly caught him staring. Something she should have been used to by now.

With Marie held against his chest with his left arm, Eddie moved his right hand out to point at (Y/n) before he pressed his fingers and thumb together in front of his mouth, pulling them away and opening his palm up. It was hard to sign with one hand and whenever he did, Eddie sometimes interpreted little quirks that weren't proper signs. Things they had picked up and stuck to when the kids were little and couldn't sign properly.

He murmured "Sounded pretty," after the small sign he did and he loved how (Y/n) ducked her head down and looked up at him through her lashes.

She hadn't realised she had been humming.

With (Y/n) being deaf, she couldn't hear the words she tried to say and sometimes she found herself humming or making little noises without realising it. She often worried if she was speaking too quietly or too loud whenever she talked to people, but it was something she didn't tend to worry about when she was at home with her family.

And whenever she hummed, she always realised because she would find Eddie smiling or just staring at her with that glazed look in his eyes like he had been cast under a spell.

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and looked down towards the baggy maternity shirt she was wearing and tried to smooth out the wrinkles and creases. Marie was only three weeks old, so for the time being (Y/n) was living in the stretchy, comfy maternity clothes she had stocked up on, and sometimes some of Eddie's lounge wear.

When she looked up again, she held one and near her mouth and the other out in front of her. She pressed her fingertips against her thumb and moved her hand near her mouth before she pointed at Marie.

"No, I fed her already." Eddie shook his head and looked down at Marie once he'd finished speaking. He had fed her while he had been up, he thought it would be one less thing for (Y/n) to do since he would be going to work soon.

This week back at work had almost killed Eddie, both because of the change in routine and the strain of being away from his family again.

He felt like he wasn't doing very much when he went to work and was leaving (Y/n) at home with four kids to look after.

When (Y/n) nodded, Eddie headed over towards the bed and carefully laid Marie down in the cot adjoined to the side of the bed. He kissed her temple and ran his hand over her chest for a few seconds until he was certain she was going to settle. Hopefully she would get a few more hours of sleep before she would wake and need more attention.

Eddie found it endearing how during the night, he often woke up and found (Y/n) laid with her hand on Marie's chest. It was her way of knowing whether or not their baby was asleep or crying and needing a feed or a change.

(Y/n) couldn't hear when Marie cried. With each child they had, (Y/n) had learned her own ways and adapted. She sometimes reached out and laid with her hand on her baby's chest so she would feel when they cried and needed her. Other times she had just adapted her sleep routine and woke up every two hours constantly so she could check and do feeds and changes through the night.

It got easier each time and when Eddie wasn't working nights, he would hear the baby and that would let (Y/n) know to wake up too.

"You going to work now?" (Y/n) curled her hands into fists and pressed the top of her right fist up against her left wrist to sign work. They always used a mixture of sign and speech when they were at home, it was just what came naturally to them all.

And Eddie knew if (Y/n) was nervous or uncomfortable when they were out because she would switch to sign and wouldn't dare speak.

Turning around, Eddie moved over to (Y/n) until there was less than a foot of space between them. His lips curved into a tired smile and he nodded as he looped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. He felt her hands settling on his biceps while he nudged his nose against hers and leaned down to capture her in a kiss.

He didn't want to go to work. If he could, he would stay home with them all, especially since the kids weren't at school this week. He always felt like he was missing out or doing something wrong when he went to work and the kids weren't at school.

(Y/n) turned her head so she could nuzzle her face into Eddie's neck and she looped her arms loosely around his shoulders as she leant forward into his chest. It had been lovely to have Eddie home for two whole weeks. No one rang him to call in favours or swap shifts or get him to cover emergency shifts. He didn't have to zoom off or disappear for a night shift, he got to be home with the kids and put them to bed and take them to the park and spend time with their newest addition.

She knew none of the kids were happy that Eddie was going back to work, they had gotten used to him being back in a home style routine with them.

When she felt Eddie's chest vibrating, (Y/n) lifted her head and leaned back a little so she could focus on his blushing red lips.

"You gonna miss me?"

Her lips quirked into a grin and she rolled her eyes and nodded. "Very much." She stole another kiss from his lips, savouring the touch until Eddie pulled back and tilted his head back.

She felt his chest vibrate, indicating he was either sighing or growling and she watched his brows raise before he looked down at her with that quirk at the corners of his eyes. She watched his lips move until he muttered "Flo," and ticked his head to one side.

Their eldest was calling out for him, which was a novelty in itself. The kids had all grown up using sign language as well as speech and they knew calling out for (Y/n) while they weren't in the same room wasn't going to achieve anything. It had been drilled into them to hurry into whatever room their parents were in if they wanted their attention. Or they could wave their hand if they were in the same room, (Y/n) didn't class that as being rude, it was them trying to reach out to her and that was fine.

But Florence and Chris were starting to call out for Eddie now if they weren't in the same room. It was a habit Lottie hadn't gotten into yet as she was still young.

With a lasting kiss to her lips, Eddie squeezed her hips and parted from her so he could leave the room.

He trailed down the hall until he reached the girls' room and poked his head around the door. He wasn't expecting both of them to be awake this early, considering they didn't have school and neither of them were morning people.

Lottie was sat on her bed, still in her pyjamas with a storybook open in front of her but she looked up and grinned when Eddie came into the room. The four year old was Eddie's shadow, she followed him everywhere even when he was just doing the washing or tidying up or trying to fix something around the house. Wherever he was, Lottie would be there too.

He looked across the room to see Florence sat up on the side of her bed, her head hanging down and her arms flopped on her knees. The eldest looked like she thought she was going to be sick or as if she was a robot that was powering down already.

Her strange stance alone made Eddie shiver and his features pulled into a frown as he moved forward and crouched down in front of her. His hands settled on her knees and his head angled to one side as he waited patiently for her to lift her head and look at him.

"You okay Carino?"

Florence slowly lifted her head and Eddie didn't like the half-lidded expression on her face or the dreary look in her eyes. His hand reached out to cup her cheek and he brushed his thumb beneath her eye as he waited for her to explain.

"Head hurts, dad." Florence leaned into his touch and almost lost her balance as she tried to nudge her temple into his hand to signal the problem.

She heard Eddie sigh and she felt him lean a little closer to her as both hands now cupped either side of her face and he tilted her head back so they were level. He looked at her eyes and felt her temple while he pursed his lips.

"Do you feel one coming?" When she shook her head, Eddie kissed her temple and nudged her back a little.

Since she was seven, Florence had been diagnosed epileptic and had suffered various types of seizures since then. She was thirteen now and the main type of seizures she suffered were absent ones. There had only been one time when Florence had a strange type of seizure where she had walked around like she had been sleepwalking.

She couldn't always feel or sense them coming, but sometimes she got little warning signs. Aggravating pain behind her eyes, a stormy headache. Tired limbs that felt too heavy to walk or sometimes she felt too groggy to move, those were all little tell tale signs, but it could take minutes or hours for a seizure to happen.

"You're not burning up, but you don't look well. Wanna stay in bed today?"

Eddie could see that she tried to nod, but it was too much effort and it made her head ache. He gave her a little nudge and let her flop back down on the bed and once she was laid on her side, Eddie dragged the covers back over her.

"I'm heading to work soon Carino, I'll tell mum you don't feel well."

He pushed up to his feet after pressing a kiss to her temple and he moved across the room to pull the curtains closed. Bright sunshine wasn't going to make her feel any better.

When he turned around, Eddie moved over to the smaller bed across from Florence and reached out for Lottie. She was frowning up at Eddie now that the room was cast in darkness and shadows. She couldn't see the pictures or the sensory pieces in her sensory book now.

The four year old picked up her book and promptly shook it up at Eddie with a small whine to make her point that she couldn't see. But she ceased the moment Eddie scooped her up and sat her on his hip.

"You can read in the front room, baby. Let Flo sleep." He pecked her temple and grabbed her book. It would be better for Florence to try and get some sleep and be on her own rather than having Lottie giggling and rummaging around in their room.

He reached down before he left the room and trailed his fingertips along Florence's cheek, smiling softly when she reached out to hold onto his wrist.

"I'll see you later Carino, call me if you need me."

Eddie was used to the kids calling while he was at work, they would call before they went to bed or if they weren't feeling well or if he was on a long run of shifts and they wanted to speak to him.

And when (Y/n) missed him or needed to talk to him she would Facetime him. Eddie loved it when she did because he didn't always have to worry about someone hearing their conversations since the station was usually crowded and bustling with people. If he spoke to (Y/n) over Facetime he usually whispered because as long as he pronounced his words, it didn't matter how quiet he was. And when he used sign language, almost no one in the station knew what he was saying so it was like they were speaking in their own private language.

He jostled Lottie on his hip and closed the bedroom door behind him as he walked out into the hall and headed through into the kitchen.

Once he got there, Eddie carefully sat Lottie down on the counter and kissed her temple. He watched (Y/n) flick the kettle on but when she turned and looked over her shoulder, she frowned.

"Flo okay?"

"Headache, she's gonna sleep for a bit longer." Eddie pointed to his temple before he leaned down and kissed Chris's forehead when the ten year old hugged him as he walked into the kitchen.

(Y/n) nodded and reached up to look through the medicine cabinet in front of her. She grabbed a sachet of painkillers and moved to get a bottle of juice from the fridge before she turned to Chris.

"Take to Flo please."

"Okay." He turned and backtracked out of the kitchen to pass along the items to his sister. Chris knew he would be the messenger today while Florence was in her room and he didn't mind.

Reaching out, Eddie clamped his hand down on the counter beside Lottie and moved his other hand to his hip as he looked across at (Y/n).

"You gonna be okay if I go to work? It's a long shift today."

Eddie looked at (Y/n) and bit his lower lip, trying to hide the anxiety in his eyes because he was going on a twenty-four hour shift and wouldn't be home until early tomorrow morning. He never liked to leave when any of the kids weren't well, it played on his mind when he was at work and he couldn't settle until he was back home to look after them all. And it wasn't just Florence, (Y/n) had the baby now and Chris and Lottie in between since none of them were at school or nursery.

It made Eddie feel guilty for going to work and leaving (Y/n) with all four of them to look after when Florence wasn't well. If she started to have seizures today (Y/n) would have to look after her in between settling and tending to Marie. And Eddie knew his wife was more than capable, but he didn't want to leave her to do everything. Not when she'd only just had a baby three weeks ago.

"We'll be fine, you go."

It was too short notice to call in for the day and it wouldn't be fair when the station always needed as many hands on as possible. (Y/n) could take care of the kids, Florence and Marie would need a bit more tending to but at least Chris and Lottie would be helpful.

"We call if we need you." (Y/n) curled her fingers until only her pinkie and thumb were sticking out and she moved her hand to her ear before she pointed across at Eddie.

One of the kids would call him if they needed anything, but they both knew it was more than likely that the kids would simply ring to talk to him and see how his day was going rather than to ask anything of him.

(Y/n) moved over until she was stood in front of him and she kissed his neck just below his ear where his sweet spot was and felt him shiver beneath her touch. She knew he was a worrier but he didn't need to panic, they would all be fine and here waiting for him tomorrow when he came home.

"Okay," His hand moved out to cup her face so he could kiss her before she unravelled her arms from around his waist to let him move.

A grin lit up Eddie's face and adrenaline shot through his stomach when he watched (Y/n) lean her waist back against the counter and watched her hold one hand up. Her other hand gripped the counter behind her while her right hand held up with her middle and fourth fingers pressing down into her palm. Leaving her other digits sticking up, and she moved her hand from left to right.

Love you.

"Love you too." He murmured and stepped close again to steal another kiss. He found his hands reaching out for (Y/n)'s hips despite knowing that if he didn't go get his shirt and get moving soon, he was going to be late for work.

He pressed another kiss to her lips before he felt (Y/n) tapping his shoulder and when he opened his eyes, he found her smiling and pointing behind him.

Eddie turned to look behind him and a chuckle left his lips when he looked at Lottie. The four year old was frantically doing the same sign as (Y/n) had done a second ago. She wanted the same kind of reaction.

She wanted a cuddle and a kiss before Eddie went to work.

***

Tilting her head back, (Y/n) leaned against the pillows and closed her eyes that were crying out for sleep, despite the fact that her mind wasn't ready to shut down just yet.

She continued to pat her hand against Marie's back and rub circles against her skin to try and soothe and wind her to get her to go back to sleep.

She could feel the newborn's lips against her shoulder and she could feel each tepid breath Marie let out. (Y/n) knew all the different vibrations, she knew when that rapid vibration in a baby's chest meant they were crying and when the mellow feeling signalled they were asleep or settling down.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what time it was. All she knew was that it was late and she hadn't managed to get to sleep yet. Around the time (Y/n) but Chris to bed and checked on Florence, she had been tired enough to drop down and sleep right then and there. Not now. Now her mind felt wide awake despite the fact that she was well overdue some sleep.

With a deep breath, she tried to recline and slouch back into the pillows and get comfy again. She had fed and winded Marie, hopefully the newborn would go back down for a few hours and (Y/n) would be able to catch some sleep with her.

She tried closing her eyes and sinking down into the covers with Marie now on the centre of her chest to try and get her to settle too. She pressed her lips against the top of her daughter's head and ran a hand slowly up and down her back.

(Y/n) tried clearing her mind to see if she could sleep, but she just had a feeling that it wasn't going to happen.

Her eyes opened once again but this time she stayed slouched down because she could feel that Marie wasn't crying anymore. The little girl was finally breathing softly against (Y/n)'s chest and was wriggling and trying to get comfy. She would settle soon.

(Y/n) thought about putting the tv on for a while, it wasn't as if she would have the volume on anyway so it wouldn't disturb any of the kids.

But her head turned to the left and she glanced down at the phone beside her on the bed. Even though she couldn't hear her phone, it was set to vibrate so (Y/n) could feel the vibrations when her phone was in her pocket or beside her in bed.

One of the cameras in the house was sensing movement.

They had cameras in each room in the house because it was an easy way for (Y/n) to keep checking on the kids, especially during the night if Eddie was at work. If the kids were awake and moving around their rooms or trying to put the tv on, or if they were sick and they needed (Y/n), they didn't have to get out of bed to come and get her. She could check the cameras or just get the alerts on her phone for where there was sensor movement in the house, and she could get to the kids and make sure they were okay.

It was great for the front door too. They had a bell that flashed a light in the hallway so (Y/n) knew if the light went red, someone was at the door. But having a camera doorbell connected to her phone meant she could be in any room in the house and know someone was there at the door.

A sigh passed her lips and she reached over to pick up her phone, squinting through the darkness and the bright glaring shine on her phone to see what sensor was going off.

The one in the girls' room. The pair of them should have been fast asleep by now, Lottie had been put to bed a few hours ago and Florence hadn't been feeling well all day. She spent the majority of the afternoon on the sofa and she had been asleep in bed when (Y/n) last went to check on her.

One of the girls was up and moving about and (Y/n) guessed it would be Florence, probably needing the toilet. But since she was awake, she might as well check that they were both okay.

(Y/n) barely sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed before the bedroom door swung open. Her eyes widened and her lips parted as she looked across to see Lottie stood in the doorway.

The four year old hurried across the carpet until she was stood at (Y/n)'s side next to the bed. There was a wild look in her eyes and she was practically shaking as she stood there with her thin tendrils of hair askewed around her head making her look like Medusa.

Her small lips were parted into a round shape and she began shaking her hands for a moment like she was panicking and couldn't remember how to sign.

"What's wrong?" (Y/n) tried to keep Marie tucked into her chest while she narrowed her eyes and leaned forward towards Marie whose eyes were petrified.

The four year old held her hand out and pressed her index finger and thumb together with the rest of her fingers sticking up. F, meaning Florence.

She then pressed her left hand to the middle of her chest and began moving her hand from left to right while she hovered her right hand over her temple with her middle finger touching her temple. She moved both hands back and forth. Sick.

"Flo not well." She repeated the signs again and muttered her sister's name a few more times until (Y/n) nodded and clearly got the hint. Florence wasn't feeling well.

"Okay, okay."

(Y/n) swiftly got to her feet and leaned across to settle Marie down in the crib attached to the side of the bed. She hoped Marie wouldn't become distressed and start crying again because (Y/n) might not be able to settle her for a while if Florence was being sick.

She reached out to rest her hand on Lottie's shoulder, following the four year old out the room as she was practically running to show (Y/n) what was happening.

(Y/n) flicked on the hallway light as they passed and once they got to the open door, she turned on the bedroom light.

She didn't like what she saw.

Florence was seizing, and she had fallen out of bed.

A quiet rendition of "Sit down," passed (Y/n)'s lips and she hooked her hands beneath Lottie's arms, lifting her up so she could move and set her down on her bed on the right side of the room. She didn't want Lottie trying to help or getting in the way and getting hurt.

Once she was out the way, (Y/n) turned and went down on her knees beside Florence. Her eldest girl was on her right side with her right arm bent oddly beneath her, she had her forehead bashing and pressing down into the carpet and one leg was still half hanging off the edge of the bed. The cover was tangled around her legs and waist showing she had fallen out of bed with a crash.

It had been over two months since Florence had suffered a clonic seizure like this.

"Come here Flo." (Y/n) tried to steady herself and take a deep breath as she shuffled closer.

Her hands reached out and she quickly unravelled the cover from around Florence's legs and waist and tossed it further back on the bed so it was out the way. She then held onto the back of Florence's ankle, feeling just how badly her daughter was shaking and spasming. She gently pulled and tried to shift her so she was laid on the floor and not twisted at an odd angle like that which would no doubt hurt her in many places if she stayed like that much longer.

Her hand reached out to cup Florence's cheek and she tried to look down at her but her eyes were rolled to the back of her head, only the whites of her eyes were visible. Each breath she took looked strained and her mouth was starting to froff, but she was still breathing which was a relief.

(Y/n) shuffled backwards a little so she could nudge Florence along with her as she was laid far too close to the bed frame and the side table which she might well have whacked her head against during the struggle.

Something akin to "Oh baby," left (Y/n)'s lips and she held onto Florence's shoulder so she could carefully reach beneath her and move her right arm which was pinned between her chest and the floor. She needed to try and stretch both arms out so she didn't hit herself during the seizure.

But (Y/n)'s lips curled into a frown and shivers ran throughout her blood when she looked down at her daughter's arm.

It didn't look right. Florence's right wrist looked out of place and it was starting to swell. Despite the way her arms were tremoring and rattling back and forth, her wrist had clearly been hurt during the fall or due to how she had landed on the floor.

(Y/n) tried her best to look and assess the joint and she could feel it wasn't in place, and she wondered if one or two of her fingers were also out of place with how oddly bent they seemed.

She quickly let go of her hand and laid her arms out in front of her again when Florence began to shake and her chest started to convulse. She was going to be sick. (Y/n) moved round once again and shifted until she was kneeling behind Florence and she pressed her hand against the back of her daughter's neck to tilt her head forward just in time as she began to throw up.

When she lifted her head, (Y/n) saw that Lottie was perched on the end of her bed, arms wrapped around her knees and a twisted, unsettling expression on her face as she watched her sister throw up and shake like she was possessed.

Reaching one hand out, (Y/n) curled her index finger and thumb into a C shape before she pointed towards the door and muttered Chris's name. Lottie needed to go and wake him up.

(Y/n) was going to have to call an ambulance. Florence might well have gotten a few more injuries from her fall and in the very least she had done something to her wrist. She would need to get checked out and seen by a doctor. And (Y/n) couldn't call for help and try to sit with Florence and look after her at the same time.

Her right hand stayed cupping the back of Florence's neck while her other hand began to glide up and down her waist to try and comfort her. She didn't know whether her daughter was somewhat conscious or if she couldn't hear or process anything. But on the off chance that she was conscious, (Y/n) wanted to comfort her and make sure she knew she was being looked after.

Each breath (Y/n) took felt as shaky as Florence's quaking chest and rapid breathing.

She had stopped throwing up, finally, but (Y/n) kept her hand on the back of her daughter's head just to be safe. She didn't want her trying to toss her head back during the seizure and starting to choke if she threw up again.

She hated to see each muscle in Florence's body tense and writhe. She hated how her throat pressed out and strained like she was presenting her neck to be slashed. It was awful to see her fingers bending and contorting and her arms straight out in front of her like a ballerina. Her heels were bashing against the floor in a manner that would surely leave bruises and the back of her calves kept whacking into (Y/n)'s knees, not that she cared at all.

Seeing her like this made (Y/n) think back to when Florence first got diagnosed. The teachers thought she was daydreaming in class when she would go mute and stare off into the distance, unresponsive. This happened two or three times before it then occurred at home and (Y/n) panicked, knowing that wasn't like her girl. And then when she collapsed at a family party in a full clonic seizure, the doctors confirmed with scans.

It had been awful to see Florence writhing and jerking on the floor when she was seven. So small yet thrashing around and gasping and shaking, it brought (Y/n) to tears almost every time.

She lifted her head when movement caught her eye and she watched Chris trot into the room. One hand was rubbing his eyes, nudging his glasses up near his temple where his curls were roaming wild around his head. But once he looked down and realised why Lottie had abruptly shaken him awake, his expression changed to one of fright and anguish.

He stood to one side near Florence's thrashing legs so he was somewhat close to their mum while Lottie moved around him and clambered up onto Florence's bed instead. That way she could be close to (Y/n) without the risk of getting in the way of Florence.

(Y/n) reached her hand out and grabbed Florence's phone that had been resting on the side table, and she held it out towards Chris.

Once he took the phone and frowned in confusion, (Y/n) held her hand out with her fingers spread and she pressed her thumb to her temple before pulling her hand away. Dad.

She then pressed her thumb and pinky near her ear before repeating the two signs until Chris got the message. Call dad. She didn't want him calling the emergency line until they had tried to get hold of Eddie first. Because if the team were available, (Y/n) needed them here.

It would be easier to sign with Eddie and Buck than trying to get the kids to interpret for her to strangers. And she would need someone to stay with the kids and someone to be with Florence. Otherwise (Y/n) would have to take all the kids, including the baby, down to the emergency room past midnight and wait there until Eddie could get off shift and come to help.

Chris quickly nodded and scrolled through his sister's phone until he found their dad's contact. His eyes roamed around the room, desperate to find something to focus on because he hated to see his sister having a seizure and he knew it wasn't nice for her to be stared at in this state.

Relief bubbled up in (Y/n)'s stomach as she watched Chris intently and saw the spark light up his eyes and he nodded. Eddie had answered the phone.

"Flo it's nearly half one in the morning. You'd better have a good reason for calling this late." There was a hint of panic and a flood of concern dripping from Eddie's voice that sang down the line to Chris.

It was late, Eddie wasn't used to getting phone calls past midnight like this when he was at work, not even from (Y/n). And Florence was thirteen, she wasn't supposed to be up this late, not even when she had no school in the morning.

"Dad, it's me."

"Chris? Buddy why are you calling me from Flo's phone, what's happening?"

When Chris looked down at his mum, he shrugged his shoulders because he wasn't altogether sure what he was supposed to say. Was he meant to ask Eddie to come home? Did he ask him to bring the whole team down here? Were they just calling for advice about Florence, because she had suffered seizures before and they didn't always have to bring Eddie home because of them.

(Y/n) carefully let go of Florence and held her left arm out in front of her chest and with her right hand flat, she started moving her hand back and forth over her wrist like she was pretending to cut her arm. She repeated the sign for dad before doing the same cutting motion again. Dad busy.

(Y/n) murmured "He out?" so Chris would ask if Eddie was on a call. If he was, they would just have to update him on the situation and switch to calling 911. But if the team weren't busy, (Y/n) would ask if they could come and help.

"Mum said are you busy?"

"We're not out on a call, no. Tell me what's happening please." Eddie's hand moved to his hip and his head tilted to one side as he stepped away from the kitchen so he was more towards the balcony.

Something was clearly going on if (Y/n) was asking the kids to call rather than trying to Facetime Eddie herself. Either she wasn't well or there was a bad situation happening and she wasn't able to come to the phone. Either way, Eddie wasn't sure he was going to like what he heard next. His heart was already hammering away at his ribs in panic of what was about to be said.

"Flo's seizing." Chris dared to glance his eyes back down towards his sister and he cringed at seeing her bent arms bashing into the carpet.

He watched his mum try and gather Florence's hair and hold it behind her head, smoothing it away from her face almost as if she was trying to settle her to sleep. He watched (Y/n) lean over Florence and run her hand up and down her arm to try and soothe her and he wondered if his mum knew she was hushing and humming as she did so.

"How bad?" It had to be bad if (Y/n) was asking Chris to call Eddie for help, but Eddie still needed to know the details.

Chris kept the phone pressed against his ear and he moved his free hand until his fingers were pressed against his mouth. He then pulled his hand away and turned his palm face down. Bad.

(Y/n) nodded and pointed to the bed before she rolled her index finger in a circle and pointed to the floor, indicating that Florence had fallen out of bed. That was a bad indicator in itself.

"Bad, she fell out of bed."

When (Y/n) waved her hand to get Chris's attention, he looked back down at her and turned a little so he was facing her, ready to watch what she was about to sign. She curled both hands into fists and held them out together in front of her with her thumbs touching. She then pulled her hands away as if she were snapping an invisible twig.

(Y/n) repeated the motion and then leaned forward to point to Florence's right wrist.

"Mum thinks she broke her wrist." Chris shivered and coiled in on himself when he heard the growl that left Eddie's lips.

"Shit! Alright, alright is she still seizing now?"

A deep sigh rumbled past Eddie's lips and his free hand moved from his hip to tangle in his hair. He reached his hand out and waved over towards Bobby who was just about to sit down at the dining table, a mug of hot coffee cradled in his hand.

They were going to have to take this call. Eddie couldn't have anyone else going to his house trying to blunder in and sort this. It was his daughter. He could assess her and get her to hospital, and he would need to so Florence wasn't on her own as they couldn't drag all the kids down to the hospital with them.

"Yeah, she's been sick too."

"Tell mum me and the team are coming home to you now, okay? We won't be long, I'll pass the phone to uncle Buck and you keep talking to him and tell him what's happening. Can you do that for me?"

"Okay," Chris looked over towards (Y/n) and held his hand out, pressing his thumb to his forehead and pulling away. Before he then curled his fingers to his palm so only his index finger was stuck out and his hand was held out in front of him. He then coiled his hand up towards his face. "Dad's coming home."

It was strange to Chris that he was the one signing and interpreting for (Y/n). Whenever they went out or they were with friends and (Y/n) didn't feel comfortable to speak, it would be Florence who interpreted for her if people couldn't sign.

Florence would be the go-between. She would phrase the signs (Y/n) made and then sign responses to (Y/n) if people were talking a bit too fast or simply to make it easier for their mum. She was the eldest, she was the most accomplished at sign language- other than Eddie. Whereas Chris had to take his time with signing to his mum because of his cerebral palsy and his signs were shaky.

A lot of the time Chris and (Y/n) used their own pantomime version of sign language. Simple signs and gestures that they had created which were easier for Chris to do which they both understood.

He felt older right now, like he was being given responsibility and that he was helping with being the go-between for his parents.

It didn't take long for the team to get down to Eddie's house, but to Eddie, it felt like they had taken hours.

He had rushed around the station like a headless chicken, telling the team they had to go, telling them what was happening and what kit they would need. He travelled in the ambulance with Chimney, his foot rapidly tapping on the floor and his hand pressed against his temple. He told Chris they would be five minutes and hung up the call because (Y/n) knew what she was doing and Florence was starting to mellow out. They didn't need Eddie on the phone for that.

He could barely control the shaking in his limbs when he hurried out the ambulance with a medic bag on his shoulder while Chimney sorted out getting the stretcher.

He barely registered that it was the middle of the night until he got up the path and realised the neighbours were peering through the curtains at the sirens and the flashing lights. He chided himself when he got to the front door and it was locked.

Eddie's house keys were on his chain with his car keys. Which were safely tucked away inside his locker. He didn't like carrying them around with him and risk losing them on the job.

"Chris, buddy it's me open the door please." He banged his fist down on the door while he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Waiting and watching as lights turned on and he heard pounding feet until the door finally unlocked and swung open a minute later.

Chris reached out instantly and deadlocked his arms around Eddie's waist, binding himself into his dad as relief rolled through him. He was here. The team were here. They would be able to help Florence now.

"Alright bud, let us in." Eddie leant down to kiss the top of Chris's head and he ran his hand up and down his back before he gently nudged him back and started to walk inside.

His arm stayed around Chris's shoulders as he led the team inside and Eddie looked over his shoulder to glance around the team when they got into the hallway. "Can someone get the baby? Chris, go wait in our room please."

He could hear Marie crying at the top of her lungs and it didn't take much to figure she was distressed with all the commotion.

His hand moved to give Chris a small nudge towards his and (Y/n)'s room where Bobby was aiming for to check on Marie. There wouldn't be enough room in the girls' room for all the team and the kids and a gurney. They all couldn't cramp in there. Chris seemed disheartened but he nodded and trudged further ahead while Eddie veered to the right into the room.

His eyes quickly scanned around the scene and he felt his heart clenching when he looked at his family.

Lottie was sat on the end of Florence's bed, her arms wrapped around her middle like she was giving herself a comforting hug and she was leaning towards the edge to try and keep watch over (Y/n).

And then there was Florence, laid on her right side with her back facing the bed. A puddle of sick in front of her, light tremors running through her body and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

(Y/n) was knelt near her legs, constantly running one hand up and down Florence's thigh and waist to try and stimulate her and keep her calm. She had panic written across her face but the moment she looked up and saw Eddie, her shoulders dropped with relief.

When Eddie crouched down in front of her with Florence's legs between them, (Y/n) dropped her head forward with her temple on Eddie's shoulder and she reached her hand out to grip his bicep. She felt his hand move around to cup the back of her neck and his lips attached to the top of her head.

When he pulled back, Eddie glanced his eyes down to Florence before he looked across at (Y/n).

He curled his hands into fists with his thumbs pointing up and pressed into his chest, before tilting his right hand forward away from his chest. He then held his left arm out straight and glided his other hand down his arm from his elbow to his wrist. How long.

"How long was she seizing?"

"Five or more." (Y/n) held her hand out before shaking it from side to side. It could have been more than five minutes but she wasn't quite sure. All she knew was this was clearly a bad seizure and it had been going on for more than four minutes which meant a hospital visit anyway. Let alone the fact that she had damaged her wrist too.

"Okay. Lottie, go to Chris in our room please, I gotta move Flo soon."

"Daddy-"

"Out please." Eddie shook his head before Lottie had the chance to try and give him those sad eyes and that wobbling lip that always made him crumble. She had seen enough, it was time for her to go and wait with Chris while they got Florence sorted and ready for transport.

On her way past, Lottie leaned up against Eddie and waited until he kissed her temple before she trotted out the room and hurried over to Bobby.

Once she was safely out the way, Eddie opened the medic bag at his side and started rummaging through. He found a pen light and leaned over so he could gently lift Florence's eyelid and check her pupils which he could barely see with how her eyes were rolled near her skull.

"Flo, Carino are you with me?" When he waved the light across her pupils, they didn't constrict and they were blown wide as it was.

Eddie switched to a blood pressure cuff and slid it up her arm while he watched Buck crouch down beside him and look in the bag. He found a wipe and gently started to swab Florence's mouth before he checked she hadn't bitten her tongue and that her airways were clear.

"BP's rising high. I'll splint her wrist then we can get her moving. Buck, can you give her diazepam I don't want another seizure happening."

As much as Florence seemed to be settling down now, she was still tremoring and unconscious. She could easily slip into another seizure and they didn't want that. Giving her some meds would hopefully settle her system and prevent another seizure. They needed her conscious so they could check she had no other injuries or damage.

Eddie reached out and carefully pulled Florence's right arm so it was laid over his lap, allowing him access to assess the damage done. Her arm was starting to swell all the way down to her wrist and hand and when he pressed and checked over her fingers, he felt a clear break in her index finger.

It felt as though there was a clean break in her wrist, but Eddie couldn't be sure whether that was the extent of it or if she had more hairline fractures. And she could have damaged her tendons and muscles too.

(Y/n) shuffled round so she was knelt next to Eddie, hiding her grimace at how numb and heavy her knees felt from being sat on them for so long like this. She watched intently as Eddie placed two wooden splints on either side of Florence's wrist and then started to wrap a roll of bandage around to keep it from moving until she could get an X-ray.

Once her wrist was properly bound, Eddie found a tongue clamp from the bag and carefully wiggled it into Florence's mouth to pin her tongue down. He wasn't running the risk of her choking on her tongue or having her airways becoming blocked. Especially if she went into another seizure.

"Here we go Carino." In less than a minute, Eddie swabbed the back of Florence's left hand, placed a sticker there and inserted a cannula into her vein. He nodded in thanks when Buck inserted the IV line to push fluids into her system.

"Are we ready?"

Upon hearing Buck's words, (Y/n) looked from Eddie to Hen and Chimney who were hovering in the doorway with the gurney. Her lips rolled together and she took a deep breath before she glanced back at Eddie and moved her hands to point between him and Florence.

"You go." Her words confused Eddie for a brief moment before it dawned on him what she was trying to say.

"Are you sure?" Eddie pressed his index finger to his lips and pulled his hand away to sign his question. He could see in (Y/n)'s eyes that she wanted to come down to the hospital with them, but it wasn't ideal to drag their other three kids down there with them.

(Y/n) would stay with Chris, Lottie and Marie if Eddie could remain at the hospital with Florence. It would be easier than (Y/n) needing someone to interpret for her or feeling uncomfortable trying to talk to the doctors.

When she nodded, Eddie pressed his thumb and pinky over his ear in the call sign before he held his hand out with his thumb pressing against his chin and he pulled his hand away. "I'll call Abuela, ask her to come in the morning. And I'll call you when I have news."

He would ring his Abuela and see if she could have the kids as early as possible in the morning so (Y/n) could be at the hospital with Florence. Eddie had a feeling their eldest would be put under observation for twenty four hours after a seizure like this. And it would take a few hours to get her X-rays and then get her hand sorted in a cast and put her on medication for the pain and seizures. They were going to be a while.

Both Eddie and Buck carefully slipped their hands beneath Florence's shoulders and thighs and between them they eased her down onto the gurney that Hen moved behind them. It felt safer to tie a strap over her legs just in case she started seizing or trembling again, they didn't want to run the risk of her falling off the gurney.

Once she was on and Buck and Hen were set on moving the gurney out the room, Eddie held his hands out to (Y/n) and helped her up. His lips attached to her temple and he closed his eyes for a second or two, breathing in her scent as he tried to remain calm.

It was going to be a long night, and it wasn't over yet.

[sturnsflirt]

005 ────── FRATBOY!CHRIS AND DOE!READER INSTAGRAM POSTS

WARNINGS: none ! AUTHOR'S NOTES: reader has no face claim! sweetestgirlintown is candy from my guitarist!matt au ! <3

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bambibaby yayay ⤷ christophersturniolo 💞💞 ⤷ nathandoe8 cornball sweetestgirlintown my baby (the 4th pic) ⤷ bambibaby <33 nathandoe8 so many dates and i still haven't hit ⤷ christophersturniolo 💋💋 ⤷ bambibaby ???

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sweetestgirlintown had sooo much fun with you girlie ! ⤷ bambibaby same !! <3

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© sturnsflirt est. october '24 | my taglist

SWEETHEARTS: @oopsiedaisydeer @xoxochrissgf @ariieeesworld @courta13 @divinesturn @victorious8 @angeliolo

[kiemiu]

──── DEAR, MATT & CHRIS STURNIOLO🍷𓂃 ⊹

𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆: fluff(🍎), angst(🕯️), comfort(🌱), suggestive themes(🧃), headcanons(🫖), drabbles(🍵), blurbs(💫), oneshots(🌹), scenarios(🍓), reactions(🍰), crackfics(👒), smau (☎️), imagine(🥡)

ᥫ᭡ ˖ ࣪ ‹ MATT & CHRIS STURNIOLO . . . 𖦆

001. TYPES OF KISSES YOUR BOYFRIEND WOULD GIVE YOU ┊352 (🍎,🍵)

drabble of kisses your boyfriend would give you. :)

002. WHEN THEY'RE JEALOUS ┊632 (🍎,🕯️,🌱,🥡)

imagines of chris and matt when they're jealous. </3

003. DOWN BAD TEXTS┊(👒,☎️)

down bad texts from chris and matt

ᥫ᭡ ˖ ࣪ ‹ MATT STURNIOLO . . . 𖦆

001. BF!MATT HEADCANONS ┊316 (🫖,🍎,🕯️,🌱)

short headcanons of what matt is like as your boyfriend.

002. PDA WITH BOYFRIEND!MATT┊540 (🫖,🍎)

matt's subtle and not so subtle public displays of affection as your boyfriend.

003. VOICE NOTES YOUR BF MATT LEAVES YOU┊348 ( 🍵,🍎)

endearing voice notes from your boyfriend matt.

004. BATMAN!MATT HAVING A CRUSH ON CIVILIAN!READER ┊1.4k ( 🍓,🍎, 🕯️,🫖)

how batman!matt deals with his romantic feelings for reader + pursues them.

005. VOICE NOTES YOUR BF MATT LEAVES YOU PT.2┊403 ( 🍵,🍎)

more endearing voice notes from your boyfriend matt.

006. MORE BF!MATT HEADCANONS ┊678 ( 🫖,🍎,🕯️,🌱)

more short headcanons of what matt is like as your boyfriend.

007. AN AVERAGE DAY W/ BF!MATT┊1.6k ( 🍵,🍎, )

a regular day with your boyfriend matt.

ᥫ᭡ ˖ ࣪ ‹ CHRIS STURNIOLO . . . 𖦆

001. BF!CHRIS HEADCANONS┊353 (🫖,🍎,🕯️,🌱)

short headcanons of what chris is like as your boyfriend

002. TEXTS FROM PLUG!CHRIS ┊(☎️, 🕯️, 🍎, 🌱)

texts from your dealer chris, who you're lowkey in a situationship with.

003. PDA WITH BOYFRIEND!CHRIS ┊518 (🫖,🍎)

chris's subtle and not so subtle public displays of affection as your boyfriend.

004. VOICE NOTES YOUR BF CHRIS LEAVES YOU ┊327 ( 🍵,🍎)

endearing voice notes from your boyfriend chris.

005. THINGS CHRIS DOES THAT MAKE YOU QUESTION YOUR FRIENDSHIP ┊725 ( 🫖,🍎,🍓)

moments and habits from chris that make you question if the title of best friends fits his and yours current relationship.

006. HAVING A SECRET RELATIONSHIP WITH CHRIS┊335 ( 🫖,🍎)

headcanons of being in secret relationship with chris.

007. DATING SKATER!CHRIS┊1.1k ( 🫖,🍎,🍓)

skater chris literally being the cutest patootie ever.

008. CHRIS DATING LAVISH HYPER FEMININE!READER ┊944 ( 🫖,🍎,🍓)

headcanons of chris dating a reader that's rich, lavish, hyper feminine, and a little bit of a brat.

009. MAKING OUT WITH CHRIS┊238 ( 🍵, 🧃)

010. MORE BF!CHRIS HEADCANONS ┊678 ( 🫖,🍎,🕯️🌱)

more short headcanons of what chris is like as your boyfriend.

011. VIDEOS BF!CHRIS SENDS YOU┊969 ( 🍵,🍎,👒)

[gigiii1sblog]

DORM-ROOM DEVIL 005

Warnings: mature content, fluff, sexual content, teasing, dirty talk, unprotected sexual content.

Chapters Five: drinks and kisses

Y/N POV:

The party hadn’t slowed down—it had just shifted. Louder bass, drunker bodies, hotter rooms. The kitchen smelled like tequila and cheap cologne, and every room buzzed with that electric chaos frat parties thrive on.

I should’ve left.

I should’ve gone with the guy from earlier—the one who complimented my perfume and offered to roll us something in his car. I should’ve disappeared from this damn house before anything got worse.

But I didn’t.

I stayed.

And that’s when I saw it.

Chris.

Against the hallway wall.

Hands tangled in her hair.

Lips on her mouth.

His mouth.

On her.

And not just some girl.

Sopiah.

My friend.

Well—“friend” in the way girls like us use the word. We share lashes and lighters. Compliment outfits. Take mirror selfies in the bathroom and repost each other’s thirst traps. Not real friends. Just party friends.

Still, it burned.

She was wearing glitter under her eyes, a backless top, and that dumb butterfly necklace she never takes off. And he—he had one arm around her waist, the other gripping her jaw like she was the only girl in the universe. Their mouths moved like they were starving. Like they were trying to consume each other.

It wasn’t sweet.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was raw. Messy. Loud.

He was putting on a show.

And he knew I was watching.

Because as his fingers slid down her back, his head tilted just slightly—eyes peeking open mid-kiss, like instinct—and met mine.

Dead on.

Right in the middle of it, Chris looked at me.

And smirked.

Like it was a game.

Like I was losing.

I felt my stomach drop. Not the butterfly kind. The gut-punch kind. Like my throat had been ripped open and filled with cement. But I didn’t flinch.

I tilted my chin up, like I didn’t care. Like I wasn’t breaking open inside.

“You good?” someone asked beside me—Matt.

I hadn’t even noticed him standing there.

“Yeah,” I lied, eyes still locked on Chris. “Perfect.”

Matt followed my gaze, then cursed under his breath. “He’s a dick,” he muttered.

I laughed once, but it didn’t sound like me. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

He offered me his drink. I took it. Drained half.

“I was about to leave,” I said, voice casual but not calm. “Want to walk me back?”

Matt hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

And that was it.

I didn’t look back. I didn’t give Chris the satisfaction of seeing me hurt.

But inside?

I was wrecked.

CHRIS POV:

I couldn’t stop.

Not because I wanted her.

But because I wanted her to see.

Y/N.

She walked into this party like she owned it—dark hair curled around her shoulders, that black mini dress hugging every curve, lashes long enough to knock a man out. She flirted with my brother. She gave me that lap dance like she wasn’t scared of anything. Like I was just a toy she could wind up and toss away.

So yeah. I made out with Sopiah.

And I didn’t give a fuck.

Except I did.

Because when I looked at Y/N, standing across the room in heels and hurt eyes, gripping a red cup too tight—something in me cracked. She didn’t cry. Didn’t flinch. Just stared.

Then walked away with Matt.

And something ugly roared to life inside me.

The same voice that said, She doesn’t care about you. She’s just playing.

But the truth?

I didn’t want to kiss Sopiah.

I wanted to pull Y/N into a dark room.

Press her against the wall.

Tell her to stop messing with my head.

Tell her she’s mine.

But instead?

I let Sophia drag me upstairs.

And the whole time, I wondered what it would take for Y/N to finally break.

Y/N POV: The next morning

The dorm felt different in the morning.

Not quiet. Not peaceful.

Just… fake.

Sunlight poured through the windows like it had the right to, even though it made everything look worse. The empty bottles on the counter. My heels abandoned by the door. The mascara smudge under my left eye.

I moved through the apartment like a ghost, wearing one of my oversized BU hoodies—his hoodie, technically, but I wasn’t giving it back. Not after last night.

I’d gone home alone.

Not because I couldn’t pull someone.

But because I couldn’t get him out of my head.

Chris.

Chris with his tongue down Sopiah’s throat.

Chris smirking like he won.

Chris who didn’t even chase me.

And now?

He was whistling in the kitchen.

Whistling.

Lacrosse sweats low on his hips, still shirtless, hair messy from sleep and probably still tangled with someone else’s perfume. He didn’t look at me when I walked in—just poured cereal like we were roommates and nothing else.

“Morning,” he said, voice casual. Not even smug. Just… normal.

And that pissed me off more than anything.

I didn’t answer.

I made a point of ignoring him. Went straight to the cabinet. Pulled out the oat milk I knew he liked. Took a long sip just to piss him off.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Damn, you’re in a mood.”

I shrugged, leaning on the counter. “Just tired of people pretending they’re something they’re not.”

He laughed once—low and sharp. “Right. You’re so real, aren’t you? Wearing my hoodie, acting like last night didn’t happen.”

I turned slowly, eyes cold. “You mean when you made out with my friend? Or when I left with your brother?”

That got his attention.

He turned fully to face me now, cereal forgotten.

“You think that bothers me?” he said, voice a little rough. “You think flirting with Matt means something?”

“No,” I said, smile tight. “But it clearly got your attention.”

For a second, we just stood there. The kitchen between us.

Air thick like a storm was coming.

And maybe it was.

“You always gotta play games?” he asked, stepping closer now. “Always gotta act like you’re untouched? Above it?”

I tilted my head. “You’re the one who’s pressed, Chris. I’m just existing.”

He laughed bitterly. “You’re not just existing, roomie. You’re performing. For everyone. Walking around in tiny dresses, playing the good girl until the lights go out.”

That struck something.

And I let it.

“Better than fucking the first glittered-up girl who looks your way,” I said, voice cool.

Silence.

Then, his eyes dropped to my legs, slow and deliberate. “You jealous?”

I stepped closer. “Do I look jealous?”

He smiled now. Not soft. Not playful. Dangerous.

“You look like you want to be the one I pinned to the wall last night.”

My breath caught.

He was inches away now, and the air between us buzzed—electric, toxic, unavoidable.

“You want to know what she said?” he asked, voice low. “When I kissed her?”

“No,” I snapped, but he didn’t stop.

“She said, ‘I bet you taste like trouble.’”

I stared at him. My spine straight. My heart pounding.

“And?” I said. “Do you?”

He leaned in. Close enough to smell my perfume—vanilla and smoke. His lips ghosted near my jaw, not touching.

“You tell me,” he whispered.

I swallowed.

And then I stepped back.

“No thanks,” I said, reaching for my vape on the counter. “I don’t do reruns.”

He let me walk away.

But I felt his stare on my back like a brand.

⸻

CHRIS POV:

She walked away.

Again.

In that stupid oversized hoodie and bare legs and smug little smirk like she wasn’t seconds from losing it. Like I didn’t see the way her throat moved when I got close. Like I didn’t hear her breath catch.

Y/N was the most dangerous girl I’d ever met.

Not because she kissed back.

But because she didn’t.

Because she always walked out the door after setting me on fire.

I ran a hand through my hair and laughed under my breath. Bitter. Low.

She wanted me to chase her.

And the worst part?

I wanted to.

But not yet.

Because if we collided too soon, we’d ruin everything.

We were on a collision course—slow, burning, inevitable.

And I was going to make sure when we finally did crash?

It was unforgettable.

Y/N POV: Later That Day

The music pulsed low through the apartment, a bass-heavy playlist thudding against the floorboards — not a wild party, but not quiet either. That in-between zone. The kind where anything could happen. The kind where people remembered what happened, but not how it started.

Chris had apparently decided tonight was “lowkey.” Which, for him, meant a crowd of twelve, an open bottle of Casamigos, and a haze of smoke curling through the living room.

He was sprawled out on the arm of the couch — black hoodie half-zipped over a matching tank, black sweats sitting dangerously low on his hips. A backwards fitted hat sat snug over his hair, pushing a few loose strands down into his eyes. He hadn’t shaved. His jaw was sharp.

His posture screamed confidence. Legs wide, ringed fingers tapping his thigh to the beat, beer in one hand. He looked like sin wrapped in casual comfort. He always did.

And when I walked in?

He noticed.

But didn’t say a word.

He just looked.

I didn’t dress up for it.

Not really.

Just threw on my black micro tank — one of those tiny, ribbed ones that cut short at the ribs and clung tight across my chest — and baggy, low-slung jeans that hung off my hips just enough to show the glint of my silver belly piercing.

Nothing dramatic. Just enough.

My hair was down. Lashes curled. That same gloss I always wore — the sticky kind that shimmered faintly under the cheap party lights. I didn’t need to do much. I never did.

And the second I walked into that living room?

I felt it.

Eyes on me. But especially his.

Chris didn’t say anything — just tipped his beer slightly and looked.

I didn’t look at him.

But I knew.

He was watching the way my shirt hugged my chest. The way the waistline of my jeans dipped when I leaned over to grab a drink. Watching the curve of my neck as I tilted my head back to laugh at something someone else said.

Watching me exist.

And I loved that.

CHRIS POV:

Eight days. That’s all it had been.

Eight days of living with her and I already felt insane.

Y/N walked into the room like she owned the place — not even trying, not even looking at me, just moving through the crowd like she didn’t know every guy in the room had their eyes locked on her. Black tank. Tiny. Tight. Cut so high I could see the slope of her ribs when she stretched her arms overhead. Baggy jeans slung low on her hips. Belly piercing catching the light.

Fuck.

She was a menace.

And she didn’t even try.

The worst part? She wasn’t like the other girls who hovered around the lacrosse house or fake-laughed at everything I said. She wasn’t giggly or desperate. She was… cool. Detached. Almost smug.

Which made it worse.

Because I wanted her attention.

And she gave it to everyone else but me.

⸻

Y/N POV:

“Truth or dare!” someone yelled out. “We’re not sitting here playing DJ roulette all night. Let’s make it interesting.”

I didn’t respond, just leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped my drink — vodka and something red. Sweet. Cheap. Perfect for chaos.

Then someone nudged me. “You playing?”

I turned to look across the room. Chris hadn’t moved, still slouched in his all-black fit like the king of indifference. But I could feel him watching. I gave a shrug. “Sure.”

The group shifted into a loose circle on the rug. I slid down cross-legged, my tank riding up slightly. I noticed Chris watching, but he didn’t join.

He stayed right where he was, sipping slow, eyes low. “Chris,” Nate called out, already grinning like he was up to something. “Truth or dare?”

The music buzzed low in the background — some slow bass-heavy track playing from someone’s playlist. My drink was cold in my hand. I could hear the distant thud of someone messing around with a speaker in the kitchen, but all I really heard was that pause — the beat right before Chris answered.

“Dare,” he said lazily.

Of course.

Nate’s grin stretched wider. “I dare you to kiss Y/N.”

The whole room reacted at once — laughter, gasps, someone even yelled out “FINALLY.”

I didn’t flinch. Just leaned back slightly on my hands, my glossed lips pulling into a slow smirk as I looked across the room at him.

Chris didn’t move right away. He just stared at me. Dark eyes under the brim of that backwards hat, a beer in his hand, black hoodie pulled halfway up his forearms like he was comfortable—but I saw the shift in him. That slight flex of his jaw. The way his fingers gripped the cup a little tighter.

He stood slowly.

Like he had time.

Like he knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

I held his gaze. Let my knees fall open a little more where I sat on the carpet. My cropped tank rode up just enough for a flash of bare stomach, the shimmer of my belly piercing catching the low kitchen light.

He stepped over someone’s legs, didn’t break eye contact. When he finally stood in front of me, the room seemed to still, the noise dulling under the weight of it.

“You good with this?” he asked, voice low, scratchy, dipped in that smoke-roughened edge I’d started recognizing. “You don’t have to.”

I tilted my chin up. “I can handle a kiss, Chris.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, like he was biting back something smart.

Then he crouched down in front of me, hands resting on his knees, face only inches from mine.

“Then come here, roomie.”

He didn’t wait. One hand slid under my jaw, tilting my face up, the heat of his palm making my breath catch.

His lips met mine — and it wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t some silly party kiss for the sake of a dare.

It was possession.

His mouth moved against mine with slow, deliberate pressure. Tongue grazing the seam of my lips, testing. His other hand planted firmly on my waist, fingers digging into the denim at my hip. I tasted beer and smoke and something sharper — something like the ache of being seen and touched in the same second.

I gasped softly against him, and he took that opportunity to deepen it — lips parting wider, tongue sliding against mine. My fingers twisted into the front of his hoodie, gripping. Anchoring.

The room faded out. People were laughing still, someone made a crude joke, but none of it mattered.

His fingers dragged slightly under the hem of my tank, Not far. But enough.

I pulled back first.

Breathless.

Gloss smudged. Heart hammering.

Chris’s eyes were on mine, darker now. He didn’t say anything.

Just stared for a second longer, like he wanted to say more, do more.

Then he pushed off his knees, stood, and walked back to the couch like it hadn’t just shattered the oxygen in the room.

⸻

CHRIS’S POV:

That wasn’t just a dare.

That was a goddamn turning point.

The second my hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt and I felt the bare heat of her waist under my palm — the second her lips opened for me — I knew I was in deep.

She tasted like cherries and vodka and danger. Like she knew exactly what she was doing.

And worse — like she liked doing it to me.

I couldn’t sit still after that.

Back on the couch, beer forgotten in my hand, I watched her lick her lips — maybe to fix her gloss, or maybe to remind me what I just lost contact with. She didn’t look at me again, not right away. Just turned and laughed at something Matt said like her whole world hadn’t just tilted sideways.

I leaned back into the cushion, hoodie sticking to my skin, hat pulled lower over my face like I needed cover.

This girl was going to ruin me.

And she hadn’t even tried yet.

I needed air. Or space. Or a fucking distraction.

The kiss was supposed to be a dare — quick, stupid, party fuel. But the second my mouth touched hers, everything tilted. Her lips were too soft, her body too warm, and the way she kissed back? It wasn’t innocent.

It was intentional.

Calculated.

She knew what she was doing to me. And that drove me up the wall.

I grabbed my rolled Blunt from the windowsill and slipped through the sliding door out onto the narrow balcony. The city buzzed around us, Boston loud and messy in the distance. I leaned against the railing and lit it up, dragging the smoke in like it could calm the chaos under my skin.

It didn’t.

The door slid open behind me. My jaw clenched before I even turned.

Of course.

Y/N stepped out like she wasn’t the source of every fucking issue I had right now. Her black tank clung to her body, exposing a sliver of skin above her jeans. That damn piercing glittered under the moonlight, and her lip gloss — still a little smudged from me — caught the city glow like it was taunting me.

“You always come out here when someone makes you feel something?” she asked, leaning against the opposite end of the railing.

I let out a dry laugh. “You think that kiss made me feel something?”

She looked over, unbothered, lashes low and lazy. “Didn’t say it did. But you’re out here with your blunt and your bad mood, so…”

“So maybe I just needed a smoke.”

She pulled a lighter from her back pocket and raised a brow. “You’re not the only one.”

I watched her light up like she’d done it a thousand times, casual and collected. She blew the smoke sideways, away from me, but the curl of it drifted anyway — sweet and sharp, just like her.

“Nice kiss,” she added, not looking at me.

My jaw ticked.

“You wanna rank it on a scale or something?” I asked, tone dry.

“Nah,” she said. “Wouldn’t be fair to the others.”

I turned, finally facing her. “You keep a list?”

She smirked, slow and evil. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The silence stretched between us — not awkward, but tight. Heavy. Her eyes flicked down to my mouth and back up like she didn’t mean to.

And that was the moment.

That exact second.

My blunt burned between my fingers, half-forgotten. Her lips were parted slightly, like she was thinking of a comeback and never said it. The wind lifted a few strands of her hair, and she didn’t move. Neither did I.

“You trying to get under my skin, roomie?” I asked.

She shrugged, stepping closer, smoke twisting between us. “Not trying. I think I already did.”

And fuck me.

She was right.

Y/N POV:

I didn’t plan to follow him out to the balcony.

I didn’t plan to light a joint or pretend I didn’t care.

But I had to see if that kiss got to him the way it got to me. If he was out here because I threw him off balance. Because something shifted. Because the game we’d been playing — teasing glances, snide comments, low-simmer flirtation — had officially crossed a line.

He didn’t look cocky anymore.

He looked tense. Guarded. Like touching me set something off inside of him that he didn’t know how to put back.

Good.

Let him feel it too.

The silence between us started to press into my ribs. My pulse was annoyingly loud. I hated that he could look like that — hoodie sleeves shoved up, backwards hat hiding half his face, smoke slipping from his mouth like a goddamn sin — and still act like the kiss hadn’t undone something between us.

“I bet you do this a lot,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Kiss girls at parties like it’s nothing.”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then: “I don’t usually kiss the girls I live with.”

“Oh?” I raised a brow. “So I’m special?”

He looked at me then — really looked at me — and his voice dropped, low and deliberate.

“I didn’t say that.”

But the way he said it?

He didn’t have to.

And just like that, I felt it again — that spark at the center of my chest, daring me to step closer, to say something reckless, to grab his hoodie and pull him back into my mouth just to feel it all over again.

But I didn’t.

I flicked ash off the edge of the balcony and exhaled.

Then I turned, walked back inside, and left him standing there — smoking, brooding, and thoroughly fucked up over me.

Exactly how I wanted it.

⸻

The rest of the night was a blur.

Music pulsed. Bodies moved. I let someone pour tequila down my throat while I danced with a red cup in one hand and chaos in my chest. I laughed louder than usual. Smiled harder. Pulled a guy into my space without caring what his name was.

But no matter how many shots I took, no matter how hard I tried to disappear into the neon fog of this party, I could still feel him.

Chris.

His kiss. That look in his eyes. The weight of his stare as I walked away.

It wasn’t fair that he got under my skin that easy. That he stood there like temptation in a hoodie and smoke in his lungs, acting like kissing me meant nothing when we both knew it did.

So I got drunk. On purpose.

Wasted, even.

I stumbled through the apartment hours later, barefoot, mascara smudged, my shirt twisted and riding up one shoulder. The party had dissolved. Most people had left. I wasn’t even sure who was still here — I just wanted to forget the burn between my legs and the ache in my chest.

I wanted him.

And I didn’t care how messy that made me.

I pushed open his door without knocking.

His room smelled like weed and laundry detergent and the remnants of whatever cologne he wore when he thought no one would notice. My eyes struggled to adjust to the dim lighting, but there he was — sitting on the edge of his bed, phone in his hand, hoodie still on.

He looked up slowly. Didn’t say anything. Just watched me.

CHRIS POV:

I heard her before I saw her.

The front door swung shut way too loud for how late it was, and her footsteps came unsteady, echoing through the apartment like a warning. I was already in my room, hoodie on, lights low, scrolling on my phone and trying to forget the party — more specifically, trying to forget her.

But of course, she came straight to me.

My door cracked open.

And there she stood — Y/N, in the doorway, messy and flushed and fucked-up in the kind of way that screamed trouble.

Her makeup was smudged under her eyes, lips still shiny with gloss like she’d just been kissing someone else. Her top was tight and twisted, showing just enough skin to make it impossible not to look. And those low-rise jeans? Hanging off her hips like she wanted to be a distraction.

“Chris,” she said, breathy.

“You’re drunk.”

She giggled. “You always say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Because it is.”

She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, smile lazy and wicked. “You mad I had fun without you?”

I said nothing.

Because I was mad. Not because she flirted with other guys. Not even because I saw her grinding on some dude I didn’t recognize.

But because no matter what she did — no matter how far she pushed — she still ended up here.

With me.

“You gonna let me in, or what?” she asked, already stepping inside like she owned the place.

I didn’t stop her.

She made her way to the bed and sat down, head tilting. “This your plan? Hide out while everyone else parties?”

“My plan,” I muttered, “was to not be a babysitter tonight.”

She rolled her eyes, lifting her legs up onto the bed like it was hers too. “Relax. I’m not gonna puke on your precious sheets.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

She looked at me. Like really looked at me.

Then she crawled forward on her knees — slow, like a game — until she was right in front of me, her hands braced on either side of my legs. Her face tilted up, eyes wide, lips parted.

“Then what are you worried about, roomie?” she whispered.

I swallowed.

She leaned closer, lips brushing my jaw. My whole body tensed. “Is it that you think you can’t handle it?” she asked softly.

I grabbed her wrist.

“Y/N,” I said through clenched teeth, “don’t start something you’re not gonna finish.”

Her grin curled. “Who says I won’t?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

“You won’t remember this.”

“Yes, I will.”

I let go of her wrist — big mistake — and she slipped her hands under my hoodie, palms warm against my abs. I sucked in a breath as her lips ghosted over mine.

“You want this,” she said.

“I want a lot of things,” I snapped. “Doesn’t mean I get to have them.”

She pulled back just slightly, enough to raise a brow.

“Wow. So that’s your way of saying you’re scared.”

I laughed dryly, bitter. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Then kiss me.”

“Y/N…”

“Kiss me or admit you’re a coward.”

Her eyes locked with mine — a dare, pure and dangerous. I wanted to push her away. I wanted to be the good guy, the respectful one, the roommate who didn’t take advantage of the girl who was half-wasted and clearly hurting.

But her mouth was right there.

And her breath was sweet with tequila and strawberry gum.

And her hands were still on me, pulling me in like gravity.

So I caved.

I kissed her.

Hard. Deep. Angry.

Because it was wrong and I hated how right it felt.

She moaned into my mouth, fingers gripping the hem of my hoodie like she needed to hold on to something or she’d fall. Her body pressed to mine, hips flush. It was messy, all teeth and tension and built-up frustration.

And then—

She slumped forward.

Just like that. Her head dropped to my shoulder. Her breath slowed.

“Y/N?” I whispered.

No answer.

She’d passed out.

I sat there, stunned, with her body folded into mine like it belonged there — like I hadn’t just been resisting this exact thing all night.

My chest rose and fell fast, pulse thudding.

She stirred slightly in her sleep, nose brushing my collarbone.

Fuck.

I gently shifted, laying her down on the bed. Her lashes fluttered once, but she didn’t wake. I pulled the blanket up over her, tucking it around her waist, then ran a hand through my hair and leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

My jaw was tight. My heart wouldn’t stop racing.

She kissed me like it meant something.

And passed out like it didn’t.

heheeheheh

@izzylovesmatt @riggysworld @amiraisafreakokaysorry @ansteeze @pair-of-pantaloons @kitty-meow-meow44

@emeraldsturns @sturnslux3

@kalel2005 @sarahsturns

@teheabrams @needchrissturniolobad

@julessspoetry @sturniszn

@slutforchrissturniolo2

@alinagrace11 @beardedbernard

[simplyiigiselle]

SMG4 x SQUID GAME 2

(Why did I do this)

I wanted to do some silly stuff and made a au of a show about the flaws of modern capitalism and add characters from a silly meme shitpost of a channel :D

(This is a lazily done concept, I might make more, btw don’t worry there are no spoilers)

I made everyone human mainly bc I can’t draw a fucking fish in a tracksuit (boopkins I’m looking at you.)

Also everyone in this au are adults, I’ll explain their info(I changed a lot into my own hcs if they were human)

(I am including people I didn’t draw)

——————

SMG4: Player 004, Lucas Lidwerchigual, Age 29

SMG3: Player 300, Jamie Esmeray, Age 27

Mario: Player 456, Mariano Mario, Age 32

Meggy: Player 012, Megan Spitzer, Age 24

Tari: Player 359, Tari Nova, Age 26

Luigi: Player 122, Luigi Mario, Age 32

Bob: Player 302, Bob Bobowski, Age 42

Boopkins: Player 238, Frank Boopkins, Age 19

Melony: Player 210, Melanie Suga, Age 25

Axol: Player 209, Axel Kobo, Age 26

Desti: Player 430, Destiny Harper, Age 23

SMG1: Player 011, Oscar Montez, Age 39

SMG2: Player 002, Trevor Gemini, Age 34

Saiko: Player 123, Saiko Itchitaru, Age 29

Kaizo: Player 124, Kaizo Koorihara, Age 28

Francis: Player 166, Francis Fron, Age 35

Box club leader: Player 301, Benjamin Vix, Age 29

Depresso: Player 290, Dexter Hag, Age 36

SMG0: Player 008, Zeke SweetHart, Age 40

Belle: Player 360, Belle Fontiere, Age 26

Whimpu: Player 321, Hinpu Mitsuda, Age 23

Rob: Player 203, Robert Corn |||, Age 37

Shroomy: Player 087, Enoki Shroom, Age 34

Hal: Player 102, Harold Moniter, Age 36

Niles: Player 100, Niles Hunter, Age 38

Fred: Player 005, Fredrick Collin, Age 41

Karen: Player 101, Karen Katphich, Age 38

Chris: Player 071, Chris Gordman, Age 45

Swag: Player 069, Swayn Markor, Age 44

Mr Puzzles: Player 001, “Winston Harlot”, Age 35

[strnilolover]

the time has come!! july of 2024 is when i joined tumblr and honestly it was the best decision i had ever made! i’ve met so many great people along the way and have lost some as well. but i’m so thankful for each and every one of you!

and what better way to celebrate than posting fics throughout the whole month of july?

there might not be a set schedule as to when i’ll post them, just because i do work monday to friday’s durning the week. but i hope you guys enjoy the things i will post! for now ill hopefully post every other day starting july 1st.

i will make a separate taglist for this! comment ✨ if you want to be added!

001 - dealer!chris x soft!reader - july 1st

002 - prince!matt x maid!reader - july 3rd

003 - vampire!matt x human!reader - july 5th

004 - paparazzi!matt x famous!reader - july 7th

005 - bully!chris x sensitive!reader - july 9th

006 - tomboy!reader x skater!chris - july 11th

007 - chratt x reader - july 13th

008 - dom!matt x sub!reader - july 15th

009 - dom!chris x sub!reader - july 17th

010 - chratt x reader - july 19th

011 - sub!matt x dom!reader - july 21st

012 - sub!chris x dom!reader - july 23rd

013 - matt x reader - july 25th

014 - chris x reader - july 27th

015 - soft!dom!matt x sub!reader - july 29th

016 - fwb!chris x fwb!reader - july 31st

i will be posting fics probably in between those days possibly too!! i will also try to post before july starts too! like the rest of my requests and fics/ideas that i keep edging everyone with haha

[drfirsnogayny]

Flower Color Gram Halloween, but updated

@flower-color-gram

Adonis: Fairy 🧚

Alina: Demon 👿

Hop: Vampire 🧛

Abigal: Pirate 🏴‍☠️

Callum: Zombie 🧟

Pixy: Dead Lady 🪦

Mike: Mummy ⚰️

Chris: Ghost 👻

Byron: Priest ✝️

Ivy: Werewolf 🐺

List of changes:

Adonis: The clothes have acquired an orange hue, the sleeves and collar have become sharp, the belt and the design of the boots have been changed

Alina: the horns, tail and skin turned green, the hooves disappeared, the tip of the tail became diamond-shaped. Accessories (hairpin, patches and bracelets) were returned, patches on horns were added, a pendant similar to a hairpin, gold jewelry on the arm, right horn and tail.

Hop: Hair coloring and beret have been restored, decorations in the form of maroon bats have been added to the beret, decoration on trousers has been added, gloves have been added.

Abigal: A daisy pattern has been added to the eye patch, the color of the vest is turquoise, the color of the scarf has been changed to green, and a skirt decoration has been added.

Callum: Skin color was changed to purple and pink, the patch on the eye was returned (I also replaced the closed eye with an empty socket, but I won't show it), the color of the trousers was changed to white and the color of the scratch

Pixy: Added a skull to the hat.

Mike: The color of the jewelry and bandages turned purple, an earring was added.

Chris: No change.

Byron: A broken halo has been added

Ivy: Finger lines and pockets on the vest have been added, the collar color has become white

[imsuperhungry]

4 𝙖𝙢 (entry 005)

"𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨,

𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨"

WARNINGS: Mild Yandere Themes, Cussing, Mentions Of Blood, Mental Breakdown, I made reader sound kinda weak here...

WORD COUNT: 2202

(11:34, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʙɪɴ)

You could hardly distinguish whether the violent shivering that seized your body stemmed from the merciless bite of the wind or the crushing weight of the news Ashley had just unleashed upon you. All that mattered now was the desperate journey back to the cabin—where, despite the unsettling truth that clung to you like a shadow, the familiar embrace of warmth would provide a fleeting, comforting illusion of safety

When Ashley and Chris told you about Josh’s death, it felt as though the world stopped in its tracks, a heavy silence pressing into the conversation. You struggled to process the crushing weight of the moment, unable to fully grasp the magnitude of your situation. Not only had you lost the two girls you had come to think of as sisters over the years, but now, you had lost your “brother” as well.

Ashley’s panicked rambling continued after she told you about Josh’s death, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. Your mind was too consumed with thoughts of him. Josh—he had lost both of his biological sisters, and now, he had died on the same mountain as them. The guilt that had already been gnawing at you from the prank gone wrong with Hannah now felt like a crushing weight, multiplying with every passing second. You cursed yourself for not somehow intervening, for not magically saving Josh, even though deep down, you knew there was nothing you could have done to prevent it.

What you didn’t know was that when Matt and Emily were also informed of the killer on the mountain, something strange settled deep in their chests. It was as though a switch had flipped in both of them, a primal instinct that surged in different ways. For Emily, the feeling was overpowering, like a compulsion she couldn’t fight—a desperate, almost obsessive drive to protect you from whatever danger loomed ahead. It took hold of her quickly, like a parasite, consuming her thoughts and actions. Her sole objective was clear: get you out, and damn everyone else.

Matt’s reaction, though similarly intense, was more complicated. Along with the protective instinct, there was an undercurrent of something darker—a twisted excitement. Of course, the deaths of your friends should have been a cause for grief, not something to feel exhilarated about, but Matt couldn’t suppress the feeling that protecting you, being your knight in shining armor, might somehow redeem him in ways he hadn’t fully admitted to himself. And as the realization sank in, an internal, wicked grin spread across his face.

Matt quickly wiped the grin from his face, the reality of the situation crashing down on him. There was no time to waste.

You snapped out of your trance and turned to Emily, suddenly aware of the tears streaming down your face. You hadn’t even noticed them until the cold liquid trickled down your neck, the weight of everything finally breaking through.

You gripped Emily's shoulders tightly, desperate to make her understand the urgency in your voice. "Em— we, fuck... we have to find the others!" Your words were strained, the weight of everything pressing down on you. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing anyone else. The weeks you’d spent in bed, drowning in grief over Hannah and Beth’s deaths, had already broken you. You couldn’t go through that again—couldn’t handle another loss, not like this.

She rolled her eyes as she placed her hands atop of yours. “Mike and Jess are off 69’ing each other, and only god knows where Sam is.”

Her words confused you. Where was the urgency? You turned to where Matt, Chris, and Ashley stood, expecting to see the same desperation on their faces, but to your bewilderment, none of them seemed particularly keen on finding the others. It was as though the gravity of the situation hadn’t quite sunk in for them, or worse—they simply didn't care.

“She might be in the lodge!” you said, turning back to Emily, your voice sharp with urgency.

You locked eyes with her, and for a moment, it felt like the weight of everything was there between you. God damn it, how could she say no?

She felt the familiar rush of guilt flood through her, remembering the dumb prank, the one that still haunted her. She remembered the frantic voicemail attempts, her calls going unanswered, and the sick feeling in her stomach as she drove to your house, only to find your phone left forgotten in another room, the tear stains on your walls and, most painfully, your face. It hit her like a punch to the gut. She knew why you were crying—everyone did. Ever since the police had announced the girls as missing, no one had heard from you for weeks.

And now, here you were, pleading with her to help, as if there was any other choice.

With reluctance, Emily finally nodded, agreeing to help. She could see the panic in your eyes, the raw desperation, and it tugged at something deep inside her. The sight of you in any kind of pain—whether mental or physical—made her stomach turn, like a sickness she couldn’t shake. She hated seeing you like this, hated that it was even happening.

“Fine…” she starts “Fine, you’re right, but if there really is some maniac running around killing people on this mountain, we need to get help.”

And just like that, a weight was lifted off your chest. The situation was still bleak, the darkness of it all hanging over you like a storm cloud, but something shifted. You knew searching for the others would be harrowing—nothing short of dreadful—but with Emily by your side, there was a sliver of hope, however small.

Matt, however, was still uncertain about the situation. While the "knight in shining armor" fantasy still played out vividly in his mind, a darker, more protective side of him gnawed at him. He hated the idea of you being in any form of danger—whether it was something as trivial as a tiny paper cut or something far worse, like searching for the others on a dark, freezing mountain with wild animals and a killer lurking nearby. His instincts screamed at him to keep you safe, to pull you away from it all, but he also knew he couldn’t let you go through this alone. Still, the conflict inside him was palpable, the desire to shield you fighting against his need to be the hero.

He grabbed your shoulder, his grip firm, and opened his mouth to speak. "Hey, don't you think—"

But before he could finish, Emily was quick to cut him off, her voice sharp and final. “Why are we still talking about this!? Let’s go!” she shouted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

With that, the conversation was over. No more hesitation, no more arguments. Emily turned on her heel, and without waiting for a response, she started moving. Matt followed along with her, but you decided to stay with Chris and Ashley, figuring that since they had witnessed Josh’s death, their experience might push them to be more helpful—more driven to find the others. After everything that had happened, you needed people who would act, not just follow.

Both Matt and Emily walked down the hill, their figures slowly disappearing into the frigid night, swallowed up by the darkness. You stood frozen for a moment, staring after them, the cold biting at your skin as you watched their silhouettes fade away.

A knot formed in your chest, the uneasy feeling of being separated from them weighing heavily on your mind. You didn’t know where they were going, or what their next move was, and that uncertainty gnawed at you.

Praying to whoever might be listening—if anyone at all—you silently begged that they, along with the others, would make it through this night. That somehow, by the end of it all, everyone would be safe. The thought of losing anyone else was too much to bear, and you clung to that fragile hope, even as the dark woods around you seemed to close in, relentless and unforgiving.

You were suddenly twirled around, your body spun by a pair of hands gripping you from behind. They pushed you in the opposite direction, the unexpected force taking you off balance. You would’ve been taken completely by surprise, but then you heard Chris’s voice behind you, steady and firm, and felt Ashley beside you, her presence grounding you.

"Come on," Chris urged, his grip tightening as he gently pulled you along. "We can’t waste time.”

As you began the walk, you let them push you forward, your body moving like a ragdoll, limp and heavy with sorrow. Each step felt like dragging yourself through thick mud, your mind weighed down by the thought of Josh. Josh, oh, Josh. Just being on his property—the place that had once felt like a second home—was enough to make your chest tighten with grief. It was all too much. You wanted to scream, to wail like a toddler who had been torn from something they loved, to let the tears flow freely, but you couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

You walked in silence with Chris and Ashley until you reached the cabin, each step heavy, each breath colder than the last. The familiar sight of the place only deepened the ache in your chest. The second the door creaked open, you didn’t hesitate. You darted inside, your feet carrying you up the stairs before Chris or Ashley could say a word.

Without a thought, you made a beeline for the bathroom—the one you last remembered Sam entering for her bath. The door was ajar, the space still smelling faintly of soap and steam, though the warmth that had once filled it was now long gone.

You stood there for a moment, taking in the empty room, the silence settling around you like a suffocating weight. The bathtub, still wet from Sam’s last use, felt like a dagger driven deep into your chest.

You pulled yourself together, your breath shaky, and sauntered out of the bathroom, moving aimlessly through the cabin. You passed by the guest rooms, pausing at the second bathroom, and then forced yourself into Hannah and Beth’s rooms. You’d sworn to yourself that you wouldn’t enter either of them tonight—not after everything.

Hannah’s room was eerily untouched, her belongings scattered in the same way they had been before the prank. Beth’s room, though, was different. The bed was unmade, the scent of her perfume still faint in the air, and it all felt so painfully real.

Sam was gone.

It became too much for your body to handle. The suffocating grief, the weight of all the loss, had exhausted you in a way you couldn’t describe—a new, unfamiliar kind of emptiness that left you hollowed out, barely able to breathe. Sam, Josh, Hannah, Beth... The names echoed in your mind like a cruel chant, and somewhere deep inside, you almost wished you could be next. Just to escape this endless cycle of pain.

Before you could stop yourself, your knees buckled, and you collapsed onto the ground, the cool wood pressing against your skin as your sobs wracked through your body. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Your chest heaved with each scratchy, ragged breath, the sound raw and broken. The sobs were too deep to stifle, too powerful to suppress. Your body shook uncontrollably, every tear that spilled feeling like a new weight added to the crushing burden you already carried.

There was no way to escape it. No way to stop. The grief, the guilt, the overwhelming sense of loss—it consumed you. It was all you could do to let the tears flow, to let the sobs shake you to your core, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the pain would eventually start to fade. But deep down, you knew it wouldn’t. Not anytime soon.

Josh’s gaze flickered through the screens, his feet propped up on the table beside the sprawling array of monitors. He watched as you began your slow descent into despair, each moment an agonizing unraveling of the person he once knew. You were like a delicate flower wilting under the relentless weight of sorrow, sobbing on the unforgiving, rough-hewn wooden floor. The sight twisted in Josh’s gut, a bitter pang of helplessness striking every chord in his body.

Faking his death had clearly left its mark on you, and in a twisted, perverse way, that fact brought him a strange sense of satisfaction. It was obvious how deeply you cared for him—your breakdown over his “death” spoke volumes—and knowing that his own feelings were returned brought him a happiness nothing else could match.

Yet, even amidst the happiness, a shadow of sadness lingered. He couldn’t bear to see you like this—none of the others who had once filled the cabin could. To him, you were his little bumblebee, and you deserved nothing less than joy, far from the weight of any negative emotions.

He reached out to you through the screen, his hand moving gently as if to stroke your hair—a fragile attempt to comfort your trembling, tear-streaked form sprawled across the floor.

“Just wait, petal, I'll be back soon.”

[megalony]

The Perfect Match- Part 2

Thank you all for the amazing feedback on the first part of this Eddie Diaz imagine. I hope you will all like this follow up.

Please let me know what you think and if you'd like another part.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog @bear8585 @nickie-amore @elliott-calls @person-005 @mbioooo0000 @amara-mars @shypy92 @nikfigueiredo @sabsthedoll @rach2602 @itshamleth @ladespedidas @devilslittlehelper @buckslifeline @wanniiieeee

911 taglist: @teenwolfbitches28 @mandmilovehim @jooniesbears-blog @riywasu @amy2265 @buckandeddiesverison @forestsandgrimoires @peteparkersbug @btskzfav @buckslifeline @mortallydelightfularbiter-blog1

@booklover2503 @chaotickitten91 @evakk1

Eddie Diaz masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Since she's been single for a while, (Y/n) gives in and lets her mum set her up on a date with the nephew of one of her friends. But wires get crossed when Eddie's aunt is the one to organise their first date.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh, I thought you two would have gotten along like a house on fire."

A frown set in (Y/n)'s features and she scowled down at the phone set beside her on the counter. Her fingers began to tap away on the counter while her other hand reached out for the glass of wine she had poured; and it certainly wasn't the first one of the night.

She wasn't sure whether her mum had said that on a whim without thinking or if she intentionally meant to make a pun. Either way, it wasn't appreciated. She hadn't called her mum to get her to change her mind about what had happened. She was calling to ensure her mum knew that she wasn't setting (Y/n) up on any future dates, and that she could tell this Eddie's aunt that her nephew needed to learn some manners.

"We might have, if he actually stayed for the date." (Y/n) hissed around the rim of her wine glass before taking a big gulp and leaning her weight forward on her hand.

"What?"

"I was there five minutes and then he left for 'a work emergency' and left me to babysit his kid. Chris was lovely, but I didn't know him and that Edmundo didn't even ask me. The bloody cheek."

(Y/n) had a feeling that she would need a few more drinks in her for her to finally start calming down.

She had been bubbling over with rage since the moment she walked through the front door. She had messaged Eddie's cousin, admittedly someone she only knew through her mum knowing Tia Pepa, and she didn't know him that well. But she had to vent to somebody and she thought at least if she spoke to him, then he would give his cousin the lecture he needed to snap out of that uptight attitude and big ego.

"I'll be having words with Tia when I see her-"

"No, no ma just- just don't try setting me up on anymore dates, okay? I want nothing more to do with him and I don't want to meet anymore perfect guys like that."

(Y/n) was done with being told everyone knew someone who would suit her. She didn't want her friends setting her up and she didn't want her mum trying to set her up with any other family friends.

She had been sceptical about going on that date in the first place and look at how badly it had ended up. (Y/n) had paced the length of her home, messaging one or two friends, making sure Edmundo's cousin knew exactly what had happened. She tried to calm herself down but she knew for the next day or possibly the next week, she was going to be fuming every time she thought of Edmundo and what he had done.

"Not again."

A deep groan left (Y/n)'s lips and her hands clenched into fists when she heard her phone ping with another message.

Trepidition flooded her veins and she almost didn't bother to check the message, but curiosity wouldn't let her toss her phone in her bag and forget about it. She had to look. She had to see if it was him or not.

She couldn't count the messages she'd received over the last three days; all from Eddie.

*Can we talk? Please?

*I'm so sorry for the other night, just let me explain.

*I promised my aunt I would apologise and explain, please can we meet up to chat?

She had gotten dozens of messages along those same lines, and it didn't matter how many times she told him not to call or message her or to leave her alone, he kept asking. She felt like blocking his number, but something prevented her. Maybe it was a synical side to her wanting to see how long he would keep up this charade and how long he would pretend to be sorry and regretful.

This had to be some scheme because (Y/n) had gone and ratted on him to his family about his behaviour and they clearly didn't accept it. Well, she didn't care. She was glad his family were trying to teach him that his actions were wrong, even if he should know that by now, being what thirty ish already?

He deserved to be ignored and shunned for a little while, and (Y/n) wasn't going to make it any easier for him.

His aunt seemed the proud type, she was the type who would give him the cold shoulder and the silent treatment until he mended his ways and fixed what he had done. And (Y/n) wasn't going to help him with that, she wasn't going to accept an apology just so he could go and tell his aunt that he had actually done the right thing.

(Y/n) would make him stew for as long as possible and she wasn't going to let him belittle her by giving some shitty little apology that he was only doing to get back into his family's good graces.

Relief swarmed through (Y/n) when she realised it wasn't another message from Eddie. He hadn't messaged in two days. Maybe he had finally gotten the hint and was leaving her alone like she had asked.

Once she checked her phone, she stuffed it into her bag and looked around the living room. She had ten minutes before she had to leave for work, and she liked to make sure she had everything she needed. She did a mental checklist and reached for her keys, just about ready to go.

Until there was a knock at the door.

Confusion bubbled up in her eyes as she set her bag down and aimed for the front door. The only person she could think of it being was a delivery, although she couldn't remember ordering anything. It wasn't likely to be her mum who would probably be at work too right now.

Oh no. She shouldn't have opened the door.

Her features screwed up into a deep scowl and her chest vibrated as she tried to slam the door shut in his face. She didn't want to see him. She hadn't responded to any of the messages he'd sent or the few times he'd tried to call her. What made him think that she wanted to see him turn up at her door unannounced like this?

Her attempt to shut the door in Eddie's face didn't work. He reacted quicker and jammed his boot in the doorway and pressed his hand against the door to stop it from closing fully.

"Get lost." She huffed, refraining from swearing in his face because she wanted to be the bigger person.

(Y/n) wanted to be the one in the right- which she already was- and she wanted to hold her head high as she told him to disappear and that he wasn't going to find the solace and forgiveness he was clearly seeking from her.

The tension was clearly written across Eddie's face which (Y/n) could only just see from how he was hanging his head down in shame. If he hadn't been so tense, she wondered if he would have started trembling right there before her.

His shirt was tight around his frame and there was a trace of sweat soaking into the collar. He was arched forward with his left foot jammed in the doorway to keep the limited conversation going and he was leaning heavily on his right hand that was pressed into the door.

(Y/n) had to resist the urge to pull the door wide open so she could watch him stumble and fall. But then again, if she did that and he fell over the threshold, she might not get rid of him.

His desperation was almost admirable, but it didn't make (Y/n) feel any less irritable towards him. She was still infuriated when she thought about what he'd done last week. Looking at the arrogant prick in front of her wasn't going to soften her up or make her feel sorry enough to forgive him.

"(Y/n), I really need to talk to you."

Eddie winced when she huffed and the way she inclined her head down and rolled her lips together caused him to suck in a deep breath. He pushed up off the door when (Y/n) folded her arms over her chest and he tried to straighten up and moved his hands to his hips instead.

"I'm impressed, you know my name."

It didn't really dawn on (Y/n) until she came home that Eddie hadn't said her name once when she had been at his place. Clearly he hadn't bothered to listen to anyone before their supposed date and he hadn't even known her name. That made him even more arrogant than (Y/n) first thought.

"Listen, I don't care if your aunt gives you the silent treatment until you decide you're man enough to apologise to me. I don't have time for excuses, you need to leave."

He winced. He actually winced. He looked genuinely hurt and the way his lips curled into a grimace and how he looked up at her through those long lashes made (Y/n) pause. She might have tried to slam the door in his face again if he didn't look at her like that.

She wanted him to go. Why should she listen to his excuses? Why should she give him the time of day when he didn't deserve it? He had been so rude, so ignorant and annoying and arrogant and (Y/n) didn't want to be around someone like that. Nor did she want to make him feel better by listening to him ramble and get his apologies off his chest.

"Please, please just hear me out. If you still think I'm a bastard then you can shut the door in my face and I won't bother you again, I promise."

She knew she didn't have to. There was nothing stopping (Y/n) from denying him and shutting the door in his face. Nothing said she had to hear him out.

But if she didn't, she would only sit and ponder what strange excuses he would have come up with. She wanted him to explain. She wanted to hear what shitty things he would say and see how unbelieveable he would become. She wanted to know just how gullable he thought she was.

With a sigh, she nodded and opened the door just a little bit wider so she wasn't looking at him through a slight crack in the door. But she didn't open it all the way, and she stepped forward so she was blocking any sight into her home. He wasn't pushing his luck today, she would hear him out but he wasn't coming inside.

Her lips pursed and she tilted her head to one side as she glared at the man in front of her. "Explain. Quickly."

"I was on call for work, I had to go in but I had no one for Chris. His usual babysitter, Carla, said she could send a woman who was great with kids with CP. And then you were at the door. You knew my job, you were nervous, and you just sat down with Chris and he attached to you right away. I thought you were the girl Carla sent round."

So far, so good. He was coming up with a good excuse at the moment, and he was using Chris as a way to make (Y/n) feel sorry for him and relinquish the blame from himself.

But as (Y/n) listened to him, she couldn't help but wonder if there might be some truth to those words.

Eddie was fidgeting, he was shifting his weight from foot to foot and his hands were no longer holding his hips. He had one hand clenched into a fist and the other hand rubbing over his knuckles in a way that reminded (Y/n) of a boxer or someone in the midst of a workout.

He was nervous, there was no doubt about that. He wasn't faking that kind of anxiety, and the way he kept tilting his head down and looking up at her through his lashes made (Y/n) hold her breath. He was taller than her, Eddie could easily stand up straight and loom over her and give off that demanding aura that would make her nervous enough to try and believe him.

But instead, he was looking up at her with his frame hunched over like he didn't think he was worthy enough to stand in her presence. He couldn't keep up proper eye contact with her and he was practically sighing with each breath like he thought explaining was a waste of time.

Something about his demanour made (Y/n) wonder if he was explaining because he actually felt bad. He didn't look like he expected her to believe him or forgive him.

When he looked up at her through those long lashes again as if asking for permission to continue, (Y/n) nodded again.

"After my shift Carla had sent me hundreds of messages, saying her friend couldn't make it after all and did I manage to get a babysitter. I had no idea who was at my house with my son but you knew an awful lot about us, I was scared. Chris is… he's all I've got, and I've made mistakes, I don't wanna make anymore with him or put him in danger."

The sincerity on his face was too hard to fake.

He was telling the truth.

What was (Y/n) supposed to think now? For a whole week she had resided herself to the fact and thought that Eddie was just some ego manic, some prick who thought he was entitled to everything the world had to offer. She thought he was self-centred and rude and far too ignorant and stuck up to have raised such a lovely boy like Chris.

(Y/n) found her jaw loosening and she adverted her gaze down to the floor while he arms folded and tightened around her chest like she was giving herself a warming hug.

If it had been (Y/n) in his position, what would she have done? If she presumed the person at the door- who did know her name and that she had a son and what job she did- was the babysitter, she would likely let them inside.

And if she later got a million messages saying the babysitter hadn't arrived, and it dawned on her that a complete stranger, someone who might even be dangerous, was home alone with her son, she would lose her mind. (Y/n) wouldn't know what to do and although she wasn't sure she would go home and rage at whoever was in her house, she wouldn't strike up a pleasant conversation.

Eddie should have let her explain that night. He should have seen that Chris wasn't in danger and he was settled and wasn't hurt or being threatened. That should have calmed Eddie down enough for him and (Y/n) to have a civil conversation and work things out.

At least now (Y/n) understood why he had flipped out on her and had been so panicked. She understood. But did she forgive him?

Loosening her arms, (Y/n) dropped them so she could reach one hand up to grip the back of her neck that was beginning to heat up and become flushed.

"I- I thought your aunt was going to tell you to expect someone to come round. I thought it was a blind date, not a surprise date."

(Y/n) would have been a thousand times more nervous if she knew that Eddie wasn't expecting her to turn up at all. His aunt was meant to explain that she was setting him up on a date, at least that was the impression (Y/n) had been under. If she knew it was a surprise date Eddie had no knowledge about, she wouldn't have walked inside until she explained that their families had set them up on a date.

She would have asked if that was okay and that his aunt had given (Y/n)'s mum his address so she could surprise him. Everything would have made more sense if she knew that beforehand or if things had been explained to Eddie a bit better.

She watched Eddie shake his head and the smallest hint of a smile fluttered across his crimson lips. He would have told his aunt that he was on call last week and going on a date wasn't the best idea in case he got called out.

In all honesty, Eddie probably would have tried to get his aunt to change her mind and not set him up. He didn't like being set up with people his family chose for him. Although this might have been the one and only time where Eddie wouldn't have minded so much, when it had been (Y/n) turning up at his door.

"If I knew she set us up I wouldn't have left you with Chris, I would have rearranged to go on a proper date with you, and I swear I never would have talked to you like that. I'm so, so sorry."

He dared to take a step closer until he was stood on the threshold and he was close enough to (Y/n) that she could see the sincerity in his eyes and the apology written across his face.

"I guess I can't be too angry when you were just worried about your kid. But you could see he was happy, I fed him, played games, watched him. He wasn't in danger." (Y/n) couldn't look up at him as she spoke or she would lose her bottle if she stared into those eyes full of sorrow.

Eddie saw them watching a film together on the sofa, he saw that Chris was settled and happy considering he had spent his afternoon with a complete stranger. Although he seemed like the sweet type of kid who would talk to anyone and try to make friends anywhere.

She had played games with Chris, she fed him and watched a film with him and made sure he was alright. There had been no imminent threat of danger to him or for Eddie to see but he still overreacted and shouted at her and made her feel like she had broken into his home and threatened his child. He hadn't needed to act like that with her.

"I know, I know I overreacted. I was so rude to you and- and then Chris told me had a great time and I felt so bad. He told me how lovely you were and that he wants you to babysit him again- not- not that I'd ever ask you that after how I treated you-"

Eddie had never felt so bad as he did when he realised what he had done after his aunt told him why (Y/n) was there. And then when Chris said he wanted (Y/n) to babysit him again and how she had been so funny and sweet, Eddie felt like he was dying.

He felt like his heart was coming out of his chest and he could have sat and cried the whole night through. He had been so rude when if he only calmed down and had been level headed, they could have talked things through and explained and realised what had happened.

Now he had royally screwed things up and upset (Y/n)- and Chris- for no reason except his overly panicked imagination and need to protect Chris from just about anything.

"He's a sweet boy, I wouldn't begrudge babysitting him from time to time."

Her words caused a genuine grin to splash across Eddie's face and he leant to the right against the doorframe as he folded his arms over his chest and finally stood up a big straighter.

"I'm in real bad books with Pepa, and it seems the only way I can get back in her good graces is to make it up to you. Can I take you on a proper date, so you can judge the real me?"

He had to try.

He had to make amends somehow and he had shown (Y/n) a worser side of himself that night. He wanted to make up for it and show her the real him. He wanted (Y/n) to see how he actually was and what he was like and how kind and funny and charming he could be if given the chance.

Eddie knew he didn't deserve it. He knew he didn't deserve a second chance to make it up to her and to take her on a proper date. But he was hoping (Y/n) might change her mind. Even if it was for just one date to settle the score and see if things might have worked out between them or not.

If (Y/n) was going to judge him and make up her opinions on him, then she could at least do that after she'd seen both sides of Eddie and seen him as he usually was, not the once in a blue moon phase she had witnessed on their first meeting.

And he could see that (Y/n) might just agree because she was finally smiling at him, a smile slightly obscured by her teeth pulling at her lower lip. As if she didn't want to smile too wide and give away the fact that she was warming up to him.

"I don't usually give out second chances to just anybody." There was a playful edge to (Y/n)'s voice that almost made Eddie fear she was about to turn him away and shut the door in his face.

(Y/n) wasn't used to going on second dates with someone when she had already made up her mind about them. But the image of Eddie that she had in her mind wasn't the true picture. She had a grainy black and white photo, not something full of colour and vibrance.

She was under no obligation to give Eddie the second chance he so desired, but at least if she did, (Y/n) could then turn him away with a clear conscience if it didn't work out.

After what he had said today, (Y/n) couldn't shut the door in his face and be assured that she had done the right thing. They had both been confused and made the wrong kind of assumptions. A clear slate and one date wouldn't be the end of the world.

She stayed quiet for a few more seconds, letting Eddie stew and panic about the answer she would give him.

And he was clearly nervous because he clasped his hands together in front of him almost like he was praying and he leaned in until (Y/n) wondered if he was going to try and make a move to prove how sincere he was about this. The grin that splayed out on his lips made (Y/n) hold her breath, but it was his eyes that were getting to her more.

"Please, He murmured. "Just one more chance. I wanna make this up to you."

Her sigh and the slump of her shoulders gave away that she was relenting. One date, that was all she was promising, the same as she had promised her mum. One date to see if they would get along and if this was anything worth pursuing or just a way to amicably break off and cut contact with one another.

"I suppose we haven't technically had a first date yet. I have to go to work now, but if you message me, we can arrange a date sometime this week."

What happened hadn't really been a first date for either of them. It had been a misunderstanding. They could go on a first date like (Y/n) promised her mum and his aunt, and then they would be square and their families would be appeased.

"Thank you."

***

(Y/n)'s eyes went wide and her jaw slacked when she opened the front door. This was the second time in a week that she had opened the door to find Eddie on her doorstep without any warning beforehand.

At least this time (Y/n) wasn't in the mindframe to turn him away or slam the door in his face.

She leant her head against the door and took a second to look Eddie up and down and drink him in. He was wearing a button up shirt this time, with the first three buttons undone like he was melting or expecting to melt on the spot.

His hair was swept back on his head, but a few loose tendrils were falling over his forehead and near his eyes. He wasn't stooped over this time, he was stood tall and straight and when (Y/n) looked down to his hands, she realised he had two bags with him.

One bag looked to be holding some bottles or cans, presumably some drinks, and the other was a bag of takeout.

"Hi,"

"Hi. Now I know you're not at work tonight or tomorrow, neither am I. Tia is watching Chris, so I thought I'd surprise you with a date this time. An actual date, no babysitting or walking out midway through."

So her mum had been talking to Eddie's aunt, conspiring to make sure that a second date actually occurred between the pair and that it worked out. And (Y/n) was willing to bet that her mum had told Eddie what kind of takeout and drinks she would enjoy so this went off to the best start.

They could have a proper date this time, no big surprises.

There was a sense of hopefulness in Eddie's eyes that caused (Y/n)'s heart to jump as she pulled the door open wide and motioned her hand towards him. "You'd better come in then."

"Thank you."

Eddie relaxed back into the sofa, turning just a little so he was twisted to the right to face (Y/n). He tilted his head back against the cushion while his fingers started to tap against the beer bottle he was cradling which was almost empty.

He liked (Y/n)'s smile, there was something almost infectious about that smile, and when she laughed Eddie found a big grin spreading across his features against his control and better judgement. He knew for most of the night he had been smiling like an idiot or trying his best to dull down the blush on his features that kept reappearing.

This was the first time he had seen (Y/n) properly smile or heard her laugh, and it enlightened him as much as it made him annoyed because he never got to hear it that first time they met.

Every joke they shared, every smile and close touch just made him think about how he had messed up the first time.

If anything progressed after tonight, if (Y/n) would give him the chance for another date, Eddie would do his best to try and keep tonight as the memory of their first date, their first proper meet. He wanted to exsponge that first night from his mind, pretend it didn't happen, it never happened, that memory didn't exist. He wanted this to be the memory he looked back on.

He brought the bottle to his lips, draining what was left as if he needed the liquid courage before he let his eyes dance back over (Y/n) again.

"So, how did I do? As far as first dates go…"

He watched the way (Y/n) propped her elbow up on the back of the sofa so she could wove her fingers into her hair. Anticipation flooded through Eddie as he watched her bite her lower lip, again trying to obscure that beautiful smile on her features as if she had anything to be shy about.

But it was the little hum of thought that she let out which made Eddie laugh; she was toying with him, and she had every right. She could leave him waiting and wondering in agony about whether tonight had gone as good as he thought it had or not.

(Y/n) looked up towards the ceiling, tilting her head from left to right as she pretended to mull over the question.

"I think I've had a lost worse dates than this."

"Oh, thank you." Eddie rolled his eyes but the smile stayed stuck to his features while he leant forward to set his empty bottle down on the coffee table with the growing collection of empty drinks and glasses.

"No, really. A friend set me up with this guy once, forgot to mention he was a drunk who was still technically married. At the end of the night he was asking me to take him home to his wife, so… tonight's at the top of my best dates list."

"I'm honoured." Eddie pressed his hand over his heart, flashing his teeth in his smile before he took a leap of faith and inched closer.

His right arm rested on the back of the sofa and he couldn't help but try to dance his fingertips along the back of (Y/n)'s neck and shoulder. His other hand started tapping away on his thigh but his eyes were completely fixed on (Y/n). Watching how she had her legs curled up beneath her. Watching how she inclined her head to the left until she was leaning her head against his arm. Noticing that look in her eyes that intrigued him so much and made him wonder what kind of thoughts were floating around in her mind right now.

"Have I redeemed myself enough to ask for a second date?"

Eddie knew what he hoped her answer would be, but he wasn't one hundred percent sure he would get that answer. He knew he didn't deserve it. He didn't even deserve getting this date tonight. (Y/n) had been gracious enough to give him the chance to show his true self on a date tonight.

That could be just to even out the score. (Y/n) might not be interested in another date or pursuing anything with Eddie after tonight, and he wouldn't blame her for that. But he had to try his luck.

The answer he got wasn't one he was expecting.

He wasn't expecting or quite ready for (Y/n) to cup his face in her hands and kiss him. He tensed up, feeling like he had become a statue as his mind raced to work out whether this was the alcohol making him have a hallucination or whether this was real and really happening to him.

When his mind finally caught up the reality, Eddie broke out of his froen trance just as he felt (Y/n)'s confidence wavering and she was about to pull back.

His hand that had been resting on her shoulder moved around to cup the back of her neck and he leant forward into her, his lips chasing after hers when they barely started to part.

(Y/n) wasn't sure where her leap of faith came from. She could feel it beginning to fade when Eddie didn't move or react when she kissed him, but the moment he gripped her neck and seemed to chase after her, that adrenaline sparked up again. Her stomach ignited and set alight, her chest felt like it was becoming lighter than air and her hands slid down from cupping Eddie's face to cradle either side of his neck instead.

Their teeth clashed as their lips moulded and moved together and (Y/n) could feel the little bouts of air leaving her lungs like Eddie was inhaling whatever oxygen she had left. It was making her feel lightheaded and drunk beyond belief, but she didn't want to stop.

Whatever preconceptions she had about Eddie from their first encounter had gone right out the window tonight.

When she let him in, she thought this date would be mild, mediocre. She thought it would be okay, they would chat and talk and maybe have a few laughs. But she had it in mind that at the end of the night they would say goodbye, and she probably wouldn't want a second date with him.

Her mind had gone in the opposite direction and Eddie had swayed her views on him. He turned everything upside down.

He made her laugh. He told jokes and stories and he shared things about his life that he didn't have to tell. He talked about Chris, he was open about his marriage and how it hadn't been working before Shannon passed. He said he was nervous to date anyone else, that Shannon was all he knew and (Y/n) drank in every word he said.

And he listened to. When she spoke about the few bad relationships she'd had in the past, he didn't comment or laugh or interrupt or roll his eyes. He didn't probe, it was as if he could read her inner thoughts and see right through her expressions and know when a subject was one she didn't want to delve into.

When she spoke about her family or work or friends, he listened with eagerness and he understood. He made her feel happy, he made her feel like she wanted to stay in his company and never leave.

(Y/n) didn't just want a second date with him, she wanted another and another and another. She wanted to get to know Eddie better, she wanted to be around him and to see and get to know Chris better. She wanted to delve into their world and be around them.

And she really wanted to kiss him like this.

When she felt Eddie's chest vibrate with what she figured was a low groan, her lips started to pull into a grin against his mouth. Her hands slid down his neck until she was gripping his shoulders instead and she lifted her right leg, hooking it over Eddie until she was straddling his lap.

She knew she had taken Eddie by surprise, but he was welcoming the change of pace. His hands both moved to her hips, holding her in place as if making sure she wasn't about to change her mind and part from him for longer than a second to take a breath.

The feeling of his thumbs gliding up and down her hips made her shiver and twist above him and she leaned forward until their chests were flush together.

She found herself mumbling "I don't do this with all my first dates," against Eddie's reddened lips that were eagerly chasing after her. So much so that one hand went back to cup her neck when she leant too far out of his reach and his lips were tingling like he was having withdrawals.

It was true. Most first dates (Y/n) went on either ended badly or ended with a polite kiss and a promise to make another arrangement. She never clambered onto someone's lap and kissed the life out of them like this. But Eddie was an exception. There was something different about him, and they weren't strangers, not anymore.

"Neither do I." A breathless laugh left Eddie's lips along with his words. He wasn't used to dating people, he'd had about two first dates since Shannon died and neither of them had gone off to an amazing start. That seemed to be just his luck.

But Eddie never attached to them like he seemed to be doing to (Y/n), and he never kissed them or went any further with them on a first date. This was a first for him too.

Something akin to a whine left Eddie's throat when (Y/n)'s lips were no longer attached to his and the noise gave (Y/n) a thrill and made her chest spark and ignite like she was a rocket about to take off. Her head tilted to the left and she hummed as she moved forward until her lips were attached to his jawline instead.

The action seemed to take Eddie by surprise- again- but he didn't freeze this time. Instead, he tossed his head back against the sofa and clutched his hand around her hip which caused (Y/n) to jolt forward against his chest.

Her lips made a trail down his jaw and started their path down his neck, and when she reached his aching pulse, (Y/n) grazed her teeth against his skin. Not enough to hurt or take a bite, but just enough to leave a simmering feeling behind. And the growl that emitted from Eddie's lips made (Y/n) grin in triumph.

Both of them jolted when a ringtone cut through the air.

"Shit." Eddie unhooked his left hand from (Y/n)'s hip so he could bind his arm around her waist and back instead, keeping her as close to him as possible.

His other hand fumbled to try and reach his pocket and he had to lift his hips up off the sofa, bumping them against (Y/n)'s so he could free his phone and see who was calling him. His aunt was meant to be having Chris for the night as a sleepover, she would only call if something was wrong.

He couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes and huffing when he saw the caller ID.

"Are you on call again?" (Y/n) whispered against his throat which made Eddie shiver and almost melt into a puddle beneath her.

"Nope. Just- just give me one minute."

His words made (Y/n) think that he wanted to part from her and take the call in another room. But his arm around her waist and how tightly he was holding her against his chest and the quick kiss he pressed to her lips told her otherwise. He would answer the call, but he wasn't parting from (Y/n).

"Hey Buck, everything okay?" Eddie knew he sounded breathless and quiet, definitely not his usual self but he hoped Buck wouldn't comment on it. He was just finding out if this was an urgent call or not and if it wasn't, Eddie wasn't sticking around to talk.

(Y/n) recognised that name, it was a friend, someone Eddie said he was close to and who he worked with.

A smirk started to form on (Y/n)'s lips and a cunning look flooded her eyes as she angled her head back down and pressed another sweet kiss to Eddie's throat. She felt the sharp breath he took, but it was the way his chest tensed and his arm almost shook against her back that made her feel triumphant as she started to kiss down his chest where his first three buttons were undone.

She began to make a trail down his chest, taking her time to kiss whatever skin was available to her while Eddie tried to concentrate on whatever Buck was telling him. (Y/n) couldn't hear the other half of the conversation and she wasn't particularly interested. Teasing Eddie was too much fun right now.

"What do you want Buck," Eddie's chest tensed and his hips strained when he felt (Y/n) undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt that was clearly in her way. "I'm kinda busy right now."

Eddie's lips pressed together and his face scrunched up into a harsh look when he felt (Y/n) murmur "Carry on," against his chest and she had the nerve to shrug.

How could he carry on talking to Buck about whatever strange call he had been on today when (Y/n) was distracting him like this? Eddie couldn't concentrate when (Y/n)'s lips were steadily moving down his body and he wasn't sure what she had in mind or what she was about to do next.

"Please," Eddie breathed as he looked down at (Y/n), but he realised a second too late that he had said the wrong word.

He felt the wicked grin on (Y/n)'s lips that were against his chest and his hips jerked when he felt her hands on his belt. There was no way he would be able to concentrate or steel his voice if (Y/n) started this game.

When he felt her hands trying to undo his zipper, his breaths stuttered and his stomach sucked in. He moved his free hand to drag along his face and knot in his hair that he almost tugged free from his scalp.

"Buck I'm gonna have to call you back tomorrow." His sharp eyes darted down to lock with (Y/n)'s mischievous ones when her fingers slipped into the waistband of his trousers. "Something's come up."

As soon as he hung up, Eddie tossed the phone down on the other side of the sofa and as quick as anything, he sat forward so he was no longer slumped back into the sofa. His hands sharply attached to (Y/n)'s hips and he bent his knees, pushing up which caused (Y/n) to squeak.

Her hands attached to his shoulders and she hooked her legs low around his torso when he stood up with her in his arms. Their lips fiercely connected again and (Y/n) could feel her heart giving out in her chest when Eddie's next words were muttered into her mouth.

"Where's the bedroom?"

[mattslolita]

psycho killer - c. sturniolo ( intro. )

in which ... a killer is terrorizing the town of boston and charmaine soon realizes she's the final girl in his twisted game.

ghostface!chris x black!fem oc

warnings ; blood , gore , death , eventual smut , angst , ghostface!chris , final girl! oc

"𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆!"

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

𝒁aria 𝑺imone as 𝑪harmaine 𝑰rie 𝑬vans

The Final Girl. I Did Something Bad.

𝑪hristopher 𝑺turniolo as 𝑯imself

The Boyfriend. Disturbia.

( everyone else as themselves! )

playlist :

( 001 ). psycho killer - talking heads

( 002 ). in my room - insane clown posse

( 003 ). all-american bitch - olivia rodrigo

( 004 ). pacify her - melanie martinez

( 005 ). all i wanted - paramore

( 006 ). favorite crime - olivia rodrigo

( 007 ). i did something bad - taylor swift

( 008 ). disturbia - rihanna

( 009 ). na na - trey songz

( 010 ). heaven - julia michaels

( 011 ). friends - chase atlantic

( 012 ). gasoline - halsey

( 013 ). starboy - the weeknd

( 014 ). tag, your it - melanie martinez

( 015 ). heads will roll - yeah yeah yeahs

( 016 ). heathens - twenty one pilots

( 017 ). daddy issues - the neighborhood

( 018 ). dollhouse - melanie martinez

( 019 ). doin time - lana del rey

( 020 ). kill bill - sza

( 021 ). criminal - britney spears

( 022 ). serial killer - lana del rey

( 023 ). mad hatter - melanie martinez

( 024 ). brutal - olivia rodrigo

( 025 ). pumped up kicks - foster the people

( 026 ). woo - rihanna

( 027 ). stargirl interlude - the weeknd, lana del rey

( 028 ). sippy cup - melanie martinez

( 029 ). smooth operator - sade

( 030 ). cake - melanie martinez

( 031 ). ready for it? - taylor swift

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱

💌 lil

this fic was on my burner wattpad acc but i missed her, so here she is for y'all to enjoy !😜 most chaps were pre-written, so expect pt. 1 soon😏

for my baes : @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @guccifrog @e1ias3 @mrssturnioloo @prettiest-poision @mattsivy ❤‍🩹

[kiemiu]

──── STURNIOLO ROMANCE TROPE DUMP PT. 1 ˎˊ˗

synopsis this is honestly just a few cute romance ideas that i've thought of and would love to see implemented into some sturniolo fics :> these are completely free for taking just provide credit if you happen to get inspired! <3

001. 7 days | pathetic!chris sturniolo x brat!reader | the pursuit trope |

all chris wants is 7 days to prove to you that he can be the man for you. and if that means spending all the money on his card or embarrassing himself in the process, he'll gladly do whatever it takes to get you to fall in love with him.

002. unfortunate events | matt sturniolo x reader | soulmate trope |

you and matt can't seem to stay away from each other. always bumping into each other in the most unfortunate ways. accidentally spilling coffee on you before a job interview, him nearly running over you on one of your morning jogs, getting trapped in an elevator together, crashing into each other while riding bikes,, you think this is all just unlucky coincidences but what if he's actually seeking you out with the worst approach?

003. he's all that | outcast!chris sturniolo x popular!reader | makeover magic trope |

your biggest challenge yet relied in the form of chris sturniolo. obnoxious, loud, and a bit gross, he was everything you found icky about boys despite dating the biggest asshole on campus. with prom only being a few weeks away, will you be able to transform him into everyone's dream guy while simultaneously falling in love, or will you fail?

004. kiss me already! | student council!matt sturniolo x cheerleader!reader | grump x sunshine trope |

you, the pretty, popular, cheerleader suddenly interested in him—the nerdy, uptight, student council president? matt doesn't understand your sudden obsession with him, and frankly isn't very fond of it. yet, his constant disdain for you doesn't stop you from asking him out on dates and flirting with him, will his insecurities stop him from pursuing you, or will he finally fall into your charms?

005. love letter | jock!chris sturniolo x nerd!reader | secret admirer trope |

chris has a hard time expressing his feelings verbally, so he resorts to writing poetry. the depth of his work only increasing when he finds a muse. you're quiet, shy, always having your nose in a book, and completely in tune to your own world. nothing like him, yet he wants you so badly. afraid of his friends making fun of him, he decides to keep his poetry a secret, and his identity hidden from the heartfelt letters he leaves in your locker.

006. glass onion | matt sturniolo x reader | forced proximity trope |

the two of you, complete strangers to each other, decide to bind together after a series of tragic murders occur at the fancy resort you're both staying at. the killer is still at large, and could possibly be the man you're partnering up with...

007. secret potion | gryffindor!chris sturniolo x hufflepuff!reader | hogwarts au |

on the cusp of losing the girl he's hopelessly in love with, chris creates a love potion to lure you back into his arms.

008. somebody else | townie!matt x rich!reader | forbidden love trope |

his parents hate yours, and your parents hate his. growing up with a high profile lifestyle and always being in the public eye for one thing or the other, your parents had laid out very strict ground rules for you to follow. the main one being stay away from the sturniolo's. but you were never one to follow rules.

009. p power | playboy!chris sturniolo x playgirl!reader | enemies to lovers + fake dating trope |

chris has to convince his parents he's officially settled down to avoid being forced into a marriage with a woman he doesn't want. to keep playing the field and get his parents off of his case, he decides to make up a fake girlfriend. and who better to use as a scapegoat than one of his old hookups?

010. mine all mine | nerd!matt sturniolo x nerd!reader | friends to lovers trope |

it's obvious to anyone with two eyes that you and matt have feelings for each other, you're both just too shy to take it a step further. with the help from his friends, will he finally confess his feelings to you before it's too late, or will another guy swoop in and take you?

[gigiii1sblog]

KISS ME LIKE A SECRET 005

Warnings: mature content, cheating, fluff, sexual content, 2 year age gap, 18 & 20 and more

Chapter five: Not about you

Y/N:

I didn’t cry.

Not during, not after.

Josh sat across from me on my childhood bed, his hands knotted together like he was holding himself in place.

He knew before I said anything.

“I don’t want to be with you anymore,” I told him quietly.

His gaze didn’t shift. Just stayed on mine like he was studying the exact moment everything fell apart.

“Is it Chris?” He asked

That name. That goddamn name.

I hesitated. Not because I didn’t expect the question, but because I couldn’t lie, and I wasn’t ready to admit the truth either.

“I just don’t feel the same way anymore,” I said. “I’ve been trying to pretend like I do, but I don’t. I don’t think I have for a while.”

Josh’s mouth twitched. Not quite a frown. Not quite a smile.

“I know it’s Chris,” he said quietly. “I’ve known for a while.”

I blinked. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

Because maybe I had. He looked down, exhaled through his nose like he’d been holding it in. “Because I thought maybe you’d tell me. That maybe it wasn’t as obvious as it felt. But mostly…” He shrugged, eyes lifting to meet mine again. “I didn’t want to make it a fight. And the truth is… we haven’t really been us in a long time.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said, voice thinner than I wanted it to be.

“You didn’t,” he said. “I think we’re better off as friends anyway.”

And that was it. No screaming. No crying. Just the soft unraveling of something we both stopped holding onto a while ago.

CHRIS:

Matt told me.

We were in the garage, picking through old boxes of lacrosse gear when he said it.

“Josh left. Y/N broke up with him this morning.”

I tried not to react.

Just nodded, rummaging deeper into the box like I didn’t care. Like my heart wasn’t punching a hole through my chest.

“Did she say why?” I asked after a beat.

Matt shrugged. “Josh said something about falling out of love. But…” He glanced at me sideways. “I really don’t want to know if it was because of you.”

I froze.

Matt watched me too closely. “Is it?”

I shook my head. “Nah.”

But it was a lie.

Because I couldn’t stop thinking about her lips, her hands, her voice when she whispered my name in the dark. Couldn’t stop thinking about how we were seconds away from ruining everything.

And part of me still wanted to.

Y/N:

I thought I’d feel free after the breakup.

I didn’t.

I felt raw. Like I’d peeled my own skin off just to breathe a little better.

Josh hadn’t said much when he left. Just stared at me with that wounded expression that made me want to apologize for things I hadn’t done yet. Things I might still do.

And now the house felt different.

Lighter. But heavier.

I passed Chris in the hallway that evening just a glance, just a breath and it was like static shot down my spine.

He didn’t say anything.

Neither did I.

But his eyes burned into me like they knew.

Like they were asking, did you do it for me?

I didn’t answer. I just kept walking.

But my hands were shaking.

CHRIS:

I saw her that night on the porch, curled up in the hammock with a hoodie over her knees. She didn’t look like she’d just set herself free.

She looked like she was grieving.

I wanted to go to her. Say something. Touch her. But I didn’t know how to without making it worse. Without admitting what we both already knew.

So I just lit a blunt and sat at the far end of the porch, watching her from the corner of my eye.

She didn’t look at me.

But she didn’t leave either.

And that was something.

Y/N:

The thunder rolled in around 11 p.m.

Not loud, just enough to make the air feel heavier. Charged.

I was in the kitchen, half-dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a hoodie, pouring water like it would stop the way my chest ached. Everyone else was already upstairs or passed out in front of the TV, the house half-dark.

Except for him.

Chris.

Leaning against the doorway in that grey shirt I hated. Because it clung to his arms and chest like a fucking sin.

He didn’t speak when I turned.

Just stared.

“I broke up with him,” I said, too quiet.

He raised an eyebrow. “I know.”

Of course he did.

It was a small town. Big houses, thin walls.

I gripped the edge of the counter, unsure why I felt like I owed him an explanation. Or why my throat burned like I was the one who got dumped.

“I didn’t do it because of you,” I lied.

Chris stepped into the kitchen. Close. Close enough that I could smell weed on his clothes, Sauvage Dior and smoke.

“But you thought about me,” he said, voice low.

Not a question.

I didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

He was standing in front of me now, eyes flicking from my mouth to my eyes. My heart was hammering in my chest so loud it was all I could hear.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he murmured. “What we did. What we didn’t do.”

My breath caught.

“Chris…”

His hand brushed mine on the counter.

I flinched. Not because I didn’t want it. But because I did.

And I wasn’t sure I could survive wanting him again.

“I don’t want to ruin you,” he said suddenly. Softly. “I look at you and it’s like I don’t know where the line is anymore.”

“There’s no line,” I whispered.

“That’s the problem.”

His hand grazed my waist.

My body leaned forward before my mind could stop it, like gravity had picked a side. Our foreheads almost touched.

But I blinked.

Stepped back.

“I’m not yours, right?” I asked, voice breaking on the words.

Chris didn’t move.

Didn’t answer.

Just watched me leave the kitchen with fire still burning in my veins.

CHRIS:

could’ve kissed her.

Could’ve pressed her against the fridge and picked up right where we left off that night.

But I didn’t.

Because if I did, I wouldn’t stop.

And if I didn’t stop, there’d be no pretending it didn’t mean something.

She said she wasn’t mine.

But she felt like mine.

And maybe that’s what scared me most.

The Next Morning:

Y/N:

The house felt too quiet the next morning.

I stared at the coffee brewing like it might give me answers. My hoodie swallowed my frame, sleeves pulled over my knuckles. I hadn’t slept. Not really.

Every time I closed my eyes, I felt his breath on my skin again.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

I hated him for saying it. For meaning it. For standing so close I could smell the faint trace of weed and cologne and him.

But I hated myself more for stepping back.

It was better this way. Wasn’t it?

I’d already broken someone’s heart. I couldn’t ruin my own too.

“Morning.”

His voice snapped me out of the spiral.

Chris stood in the hallway shirtless, hair damp from the shower, jaw flexing like he hated being awake.

He looked at me like nothing happened.

I hated him for that too.

I didn’t answer—just handed him a mug of coffee and walked away before I said something stupid like kiss me again.

⸻

CHRIS:

She didn’t look at me.

Not once.

And I told myself that was fine.

But it wasn’t.

She’d broken up with Josh. She’d pulled away last night. And now she was pretending like I didn’t exist, like nothing happened on the hood of my car or in the jacuzzi, like my hands hadn’t memorized the curve of her waist in the dark.

She was acting like I wasn’t already in too deep.

So I followed her outside.

Just to piss myself off.

She was sitting on the back steps, legs crossed, hoodie lifted up and sunlight catching the silver ring in her bellybutton. Her eyes flicked up when she heard me.

“What?”

“You good?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

There it was, that wall she built up every time I got too close. And I couldn’t even blame her. She had a right to protect herself from someone like me.

But I hated that she did.

“You don’t have to act like you don’t care.”

“I’m not acting.”

“Y/N,” I said her name like a warning.

Like a prayer.

She exhaled, then stood and brushed past me, her shoulder brushing mine.

“You don’t get to do this,” she whispered. “You don’t get to make me feel things and then expect me to be okay with pretending it didn’t happen.”

I turned around slowly. “I’m not pretending.”

“Then what the hell is this?” Her voice cracked. “Because it sure as hell feels like something.”

I stepped forward.

So did she.

One breath apart. Just one.

And then—

“Y/N?”

Matt’s voice from inside.

We both froze.

She stepped back, swallowing hard, hands trembling at her sides. “I can’t keep doing this, Chris.”

And then she walked away again.

Second time in twenty-four hours.

And I let her.

Because I knew if I touched her again.. I wouldn’t stop.

Another Party:

Y/N:

The party was already too loud.

Too many people. Too many red Solo cups. Too many glances across the room I pretended not to notice.

I shouldn’t have come. But Nick insisted. Said I needed to have fun. That I needed a distraction.

So I stood next to him on the patio, pretending I wasn’t watching the way she touched Chris’s arm.

Some girl in a short skirt and heels too high for this neighborhood. Laughing too loud. Letting her fingers linger on his bicep like she knew what she was doing.

And the worst part?

He let her.

Didn’t look uncomfortable. Didn’t step back. Just smiled with that cocky tilt I used to dream about when I was thirteen and thought crushes were the most dangerous thing in the world.

Now I knew better.

Now I knew he was.

“You okay?” Nick asked, watching me too closely.

I shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He raised a brow. “Because you’re death-staring some girl like you’re about to throw hands.”

I laughed, hollow. “It’s just a party, Nick.”

“Sure,” he said slowly. “It’s just a party. And he’s just some guy.”

But he wasn’t.

He was the guy who’d made me forget my own name on the hood of his car. The guy who whispered things that haunted my sleep and touched me like he wanted to ruin me, but then let go like it didn’t mean anything.

Now he was letting another girl laugh too close.

And I hated myself for caring.

Because he was just my brother’s best friend.

⸻

CHRIS:

I felt her eyes before I saw her.

Y/N.

Leaning against the porch rail in that orange top that made me want to grab her by the waist and pull her straight into me.

But I didn’t.

Because some girl was talking to me. And I needed the distraction. I needed something.. anything, to remind me that I wasn’t obsessed with my best friends little sister.

Even if I was.

“So, are you always this quiet?” the girl asked, sipping something bright pink.

I glanced at her. Then back at the porch.

Y/N was gone.

“I’m not quiet,” I said. “Just not interested.”

I left the girl standing there, confused.

Found my way to the side of the house, where the music dulled and the sky cracked with heat lightning.

And there she was sitting on the stone wall alone, knees pulled up, a beer in her hand she hadn’t touched.

I didn’t speak.

Just sat beside her.

For a second, we said nothing.

Then—

“Did she give you her number?” Y/N asked, voice too casual.

I looked at her. “Does it matter?”

She didn’t answer.

Didn’t look at me.

Just sipped her beer and blinked too fast.

“She wasn’t you,” I said finally.

Y/N stiffened.

I leaned in closer, breath brushing her ear.

“None of them are.”

But before I could do more, before I could touch her or ruin her again, she stood up and walked inside.

And I sat there.

Jaw clenched.

Heart hammering.

Still burning.

⸻

Y/N:

I walked away from him, got drunk, needed him, but I’m not supposed to go looking for him…

But I was already standing in the hallway, shoes in one hand, adrenaline in my throat like I’d swallowed gasoline.

I heard his voice before I saw him low, cocky, charming. The Party and The After Party by The Weeknd was playing and that damn voice that used to make me blush when I was fifteen was speaking.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter, some random girl still hovering too close. But he wasn’t really paying attention to her. Not when he looked up and locked eyes with me like I was the one he’d been waiting for.

And maybe I had been.

I turned on my heel and walked out the sliding door without a word.

He followed.

I didn’t have to look.

I felt him behind me, tension crackling between us like fire about to catch.

We ended up at the side of the house again. The same fucking wall. The same sick, beautiful pattern we’d been falling into all summer.

“You keep staring at me like you want something,” I said, not turning around.

His laugh was low, bitter. “You really wanna play that game with me?”

I spun around, eyes burning. “What game is that, Christopher? The one where you let girls hang off you in front of me and then act like it doesn’t mean anything?”

“You’re the one who’s been ignoring me.”

“Because I had to. Because if I didn’t, I was gonna end up doing something really fucking stupid.”

We were face to face now.

Too close.

His eyes dropped to my mouth.

“Like what?” he whispered.

My jaw clenched. “Like this.”

And I kissed him.

Or maybe he kissed me.

It didn’t matter.

Teeth. Tongues. Breathless, brutal contact. My back slammed into the brick wall. His hands shoved up under my shirt, greedy, rough, like he needed to confirm I was real.

“I used to think about this,” I gasped. “You. Me. When I was a kid. I used to fucking dream about this.”

“Just grab a room, I swear no one will (interfere)”

Chris groaned, like I’d just lit him on fire.

“You think I didn’t know?” he said, biting down against my jaw. “You think I didn’t fucking feel it every time you looked at me with those big, innocent eyes?”

“You didn’t give a fuck about me.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me eyes wild, hair falling over his forehead, chest heaving.

“Yeah?” he growled. “Look at me now.”

He kissed me again, and I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

His hand was wrapped around my throat before I could speak.

“Say you don’t want me, Y/N. Say it.”

I didn’t say a word.

Because I couldn’t lie.

So instead, I yanked him by the shirt and dragged him inside a random room, door slamming behind us.

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me” I said

“Ride with it, ride with it, I know you know, I know you wanna with it”

And then it all fell apart.

CHRIS:

I wasn’t supposed to touch her.

But the second she kissed me, I knew I was done pretending.

Y/N had always been off-limits. Always Nate’s little sister. Always too young.

But she wasn’t a kid anymore.

And now she was under me, nails in my back, head tilted up like she wanted to be ruined. The Weeknd playing low in the background.

I couldn’t fucking stop.

Her lips were bruised from how hard we kissed. Her thighs spread beneath me, those tiny shorts pushed halfway down. I kissed every inch of her stomach, her ribs, her neck. Her breath hitched when my hands slid under her again this time with no hesitation.

Y/N:

His hands yanked my shirt over my head and threw it somewhere across the room, fingers digging into my waist like he couldn’t believe I was real.

“You don’t even know,” he said hoarsely. “How hard it was to pretend I didn’t notice you growing up.”

“But you didn’t,” I whispered, biting back a moan as his lips dragged down my neck.

“I did,” he growled. “I just hated myself for it.”

My back hit the mattress. He was above me in seconds, hovering, panting, eyes dark and wild.

His hands were everywhere hot, rough, trembling with urgency like he couldn’t decide where to touch first. He moved like a man starved, like he’d been holding back for too long and finally let himself give in. Every brush of his fingertips was desperate and reverent all at once his palm cupping my jaw, sliding down my ribs, grabbing my ass like he needed to anchor himself to something solid.

And then his mouth. God, his mouth.

He kissed every inch of me like he was making up for all the nights we didn’t talk, all the tension we swallowed down. Like he knew how many times I’d stared at his hands and imagined them between my thighs.

And now they were.

I gasped the second he touched me there his fingers slipping beneath my waistband like he had every right. Like I was already his. My hips jerked up instinctively, and Chris grinned against the skin of my stomach, the scruff on his jaw dragging along my skin and making me shiver.

“Still want this?” he asked, his voice low and rough, thick with arousal.

I nodded, eyes heavy, breathless. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

He kissed down the soft curve of my stomach, slow and almost worshipful, thumbs hooked in the waistband of my shorts as he dragged them down with infuriating patience. When he finally had me bare beneath him, he paused.. just stared for a second, his hands sliding up my thighs, prying me open like something sacred.

“Fuck,” he breathed out. “You’re so wet.”

My whole body trembled under the heat of his gaze. I was already unraveling, already too far gone. He dragged his fingers through me like he owned every part of me, thumb circling in just the right way, and I cried out, head falling back as pleasure ripped through me like a live wire.

When he finally slid into me, everything else disappeared.

Thought. Breath. Time.

It was all just Chris, his body over mine, his mouth on my neck, his cock stretching me open in one deep, deliberate thrust. It was rough and needy, the kind of sex that wasn’t about finesse or rhythm. It was about days of denial, of every almost-kiss, every stolen glance that had led to this.

He pinned my wrists above my head, breath hot against my jaw, eyes dark and locked on mine as he fucked into me like he’d been dreaming about this forever.

“Tell me,” he growled, voice ragged. “Tell me I’m not just some fucking dream.”

“You’re not,” I choked, arching into him. “You never were.”

And I meant it, because this wasn’t just lust. This was everything we’d never said out loud, everything we’d tried to bury.

He slammed into me harder, dragging a cry from my throat as his name fell from my lips over and over. My nails raked down his back, and he kissed me like he needed to feel my soul. Like he was trying to breathe me in.

And for once, I didn’t feel wrong. I didn’t feel guilty.

I just felt wanted.

Needed.

Claimed.

CHRIS:

She was fire.

Fucking untouchable. Off-limits. Nate’s little sister. The one I wasn’t supposed to look at like that wasn’t supposed to want the way I did.

But that fantasy had shattered the second she moaned my name.

Now she was beneath me, legs locked tight around my waist, nails digging into my back, mouth swollen from kissing and gasping every time I drove into her. She looked wrecked, beautiful and undone, her eyes glassy and pleading like she didn’t want me to stop.

And I wasn’t going to.

Not now. Not after days of pretending this didn’t exist.

I gripped her hips and snapped mine forward, buried deep inside her as her body arched, taking everything I gave her. She clenched around me like she couldn’t let go, like she didn’t want to.

“Say it,” I groaned, fucking her deeper, the sound of skin on skin obscene in the silence between us. “Say I’m the one you wanted.”

“You are,” she whimpered, eyes shining. “It was always you.”

And I swear to God, those words broke me.

Because this wasn’t just sex.

This was everything, every loaded glance, every late night thought, every fight we had to stay away from each other. All of it crashing down in the way she pulled me closer, kissed me harder, whispered my name like a confession.

There was no Nate. No Josh. No past. No rules.

Just this.

Her.

Me.

And the way she broke apart under me back arching, mouth falling open, thighs trembling as she came around me, chanting my name like it was salvation. I held her through it, kissed her through it, fucked her through it, spilling inside her as I buried my face in her neck and let it all go.

When it was over, I didn’t move.

I stayed right there, wrapped around her like I could protect us from the truth that would come crashing in when the sun came up.

Because I knew everything had changed.

And I don’t want to lose her.

guys I need ideas for what’s next😭😭

@izzylovesmatt @riggysworld @amiraisafreakokaysorry @ansteeze @pair-of-pantaloons @kitty-meow-meow44 @emeraldsturns @sturnslux3 @kalel2005 @sarahsturnn

[comicwaren]

From Ultimate Wolverine #005

Art by Alex Lins and Bryan Valenza

Written by Chris Condon