#and still very nervous about chicagos

[theerastour]

What the fuck is the Atlanta VIP poster??? I saw someone post it and I’m like…😵‍💫🤮

[ocdhuacheng]

i love looking up uchi-con in the artist alley discord servers im in bc ppl always have nice things to say about it i feel like such a proud mom. thats my baby <3

[gallaghersgal]

first misses || carmen berzatto

pairing: carmy x fem!reader

warnings & tags: no warnings! fluff, fluff, and more fluff. first kiss scenario. giving carmen the sweet innocent childhood moments he deserves. growing apart but finding each other again <33

a/n: thank u to worm for the idea, and to the tumblr baddie collective for cheering me on! my first FULL length carmy fic, and my first work over 1k in ... actual years i think.

wc: 1.3k

Carmen never liked wearing glasses. they fogged up too often, or slipped down the bridge of his nose. and one time, when he was eleven years old, they just about ruined his life.

You were the prettiest girl in the fifth grade, a Chicago transplant, and the apple of every little boy's eye. But you only had eyes for one Carmen Berzatto. The day you made him hold your hand to cross the street on the field trip to the art museum, he knew he couldn't let summer roll around without telling you how he felt. But Mikey teased him, and Sugar tried her best but her advice sounded too motherly, so Carmen was left to plot for himself.

He still remembers that day, the last day of fifth grade. The pretty gingham dress with the little bow you wore—your Dorothy dress, as you called it—and your hair tied up to play field games with the other kids waiting at pickup. He had tugged you behind the bleachers with nervous, sweaty palms, thankful that you didn't notice or at the very least held back any comments.

"I wanna kiss you," he blurted out, cheeks turning pink at the admission. "C-Can i kiss you?"

You looked down at your feet for a minute, tennis shoe toe digging into the gravel, before you looked up at him. "Um, sure!" you grinned shyly, and Carmen felt like his world was skidding to a halt right then and there. "I've never kissed anyone before. like, on the lips?"

"I-I h-haven't either," he stammered, his face going pale with nerves. His hands began to shake when you stepped up closer.

"That's okay, I think it's easy."

You held out your hand until Carmen took it, then closed your eyes to lean in. He couldn't help but stare curiously, and the moment unfolded before his eyes. Before you could kiss him, your brow ran right into the wireframe of his glasses. You pulled back, a little startled, one eyebrow raised.

"Sorry, 'm s-sorry," he said nervously, watching as you scrunch your nose in concentration. Before he knew what was happening you'd leaned in again. Your lips barely brushed his, those stupid glasses still in the way, but it was a kiss. It counted.

You pulled back with a wide grin, "there! Now we had our first kiss!"

Carmen wanted to say something, he really did. Maybe ask to sign your yearbook, or if you’d want to come see a movie with him, but the teacher was calling your name. You had to leave. You had to leave, and Carmen didn't know if he'd see you at all, for the whole summer. His little heart ached at the thought of not seeing your smile. Not hearing your laugh. Missing the way you always smelled like strawberries and vanilla from your little hand sanitizer, the one he always asked to borrow after recess.

But at that moment you were standing in front of him, with that same pretty grin, and throwing your arms around him for a quick hug. You turned to leave, then turned back, just to surprise him with a sweet kiss to his cheek. "Bye Carmy! Have a good summer!" you said, before running off.

And Carmen just stood there, awestruck.

Sure, he saw you again the next year, but a lot happened that summer. The transition to middle school was a big one, you weren't in any classes together, and year by year the two of you grew apart until Carmen was halfway across the country and you were nothing but a memory.

He didn't see you again until, god, at least thirteen years later. He wasn't sure how long it had been. He wasn't even sure how he'd managed to bump into you. But a few hours and a coffee later you'd given him your number. And that night you'd texted him; would you wanna go out, like on a date? i couldn't bring myself to ask you face to face. but i think it would be nice. just lmk :)

And it was nice. you wore a dress that looked amazing against your skin, and he got to finally tell you how pretty you were, after all the years of silence. After the days spent sketching you in the margins of his notebooks, peering at you from across the cafeteria, and showing up to football games just to get a glimpse of you with your friends. You looked beautiful as ever, and he made sure to tell you. 

“Y’know, I always thought you were so pretty” he mumbled, sounding reverent as he stood outside your apartment door. Your back was against your door, hands not even bothering with pushing it open. 

“That’s really sweet, Carmy,” you whispered. One hand raised up to touch his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. His cheeks were tinted a soft pink, that same lovely color you’d see when you were young. The one you’d crack jokes, give lingering glances, and throw compliments his way just to see. 

Carmen’s eyes fluttered closed, like he was committing your image to memory. Maybe he was. 

“Do you remember the last day of fifth grade?” you asked cautiously, waiting for him to open his eyes before continuing. “When we kissed under the bleachers?” His embarrassment was written across his face, cheeks flushed and eyes cast down to the floor. You took one curl by the side of his face around your finger, twirled it into a perfect little spiral just to let it go again. Patiently, you waited for him to speak.

“Y-Yeah, yeah. I remember,” he replied with a quiet laugh. “I went home and begged my mom not to make me wear glasses anymore. As if she could’ve done anything about my shitty eyesight,” he added with a scoff.

“Hm. Well, I mean, I guess it worked. You got contacts, yeah? Or are you just blind as a bat?” you asked, and brought your eyes up to meet his own. “Do you wanna try again?” You tacked the last sentence on, almost like an afterthought, afraid if you took too much time to think on it you’d chicken out entirely. 

Carmen grinned, and you swore it was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. Not the tight lipped smile he often wore in photos, no, this was all teeth and sparkling eyes and joy. Like the kid under the bleachers all those years ago. 

“Bats, uhm, they- they aren’t,” he stammered, his hands shaking as they held on to your hips. “Common mistake, see, they’ve actually got-”

“Carmen,” you interrupted softly. He only hummed in response, a soft affirmative noise that let you know he wanted this too. As if the way he looked at you could’ve been interpreted any other way. “Just kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. His lips were soft–if not a little chapped, but you didn’t mind–when they finally brushed yours, this time with no pesky glasses in the way. One of his hands moved up to the back of your neck, cradling you there.

To call the moment bliss would’ve been an understatement. 

When Carmen finally pulled away from you his eyes remained closed, soaking up the moment, afraid he’d look again to find it was all a dream. A dream he’d had over and over, each night as he drifted off. The sweet girl he’d once known, finally in his arms again.

When his blue eyes finally made their reappearance you were staring at him, analyzing his expression as one finger twirled around that same little curl. “You should come inside,” you told him, and he winced slightly. 

“I-I, don’t wanna fuck it up. Don't wanna rush... this,” he admitted breathlessly, to which you shook your head.

“Nothing like that. Just, don’t wanna stop talking to you,” you explained, showing your intentions were to take this slow. To learn him again, or, was it for the first time? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was his smile, as he nodded and followed you inside.

end.

main masterlist || carmy masterlist

[thebearer]

can you make a fic of teenage teddy and (beekeeping age) carm?? like how their relationship would be and his reaction to her growing up so fast 😭

beekeeping age plzzzz lmao. he would be dilflicious and you all know he would!!! no real tw besides teenage teddy, underage drinking, and mentions to mikey???

"Cousin," Richie's voice was eerily calm on the other line. Carmen's eyes sprung open, sitting up in the bed, the grogginess from sleep was gone. "Don't freak out."

"What's goin' on? What happened?" Carmen didn't listen to Richie's advice, snatching the clock to see the time- three-twenty-two am.

"I said don't freak out, alright?" Richie tried again, the tone he used when he was about to tell Carmen something that would make him go nuclear.

"Don't fuck with me right now. What's goin' on?" Carmen's heart was hammering, shimmying on his sweat pants.

"Carm," You muttered, groggy and rasping through sleep. "What's wrong?"

"Go to sleep, baby. I got it." Carmen muttered, pressing a kiss to your head, hand stroking down your cheeks, the impressions of your pillow pressed into your still warm skin.

"Richie, I'm not fuckin' around anymore, ok? What's goin' on?" Carmen hissed, shutting the door softly, padding down the dark hall.

"Carmen, I want to remind you that we have all been teenagers before. Very young, very stupid." Richie hummed.

Carmen's spine went rigid, icy fear shooting through his nervous system. His eyes flickered up the stairs. Teddy.

"Where are you?" Carmen snatched his keys and coat, patting the pocket to make sure his Spirits were in there- he deserved one, he could already tell.

"I'm at my house, but listen- it's not bad, ok?" Richie tried again, his voice raising a little higher to emphasize over Carmen's ramblings.

"What did she do? Is she ok?" Carmen snapped, slamming the car door shut and tearing out of the garage like a lunatic, pulling onto the unusually calm Chicago streets, tearing towards Richie's house.

Carmen was buzzing- maybe with rage, maybe with fear, maybe both. The fifteen year old had managed to sneak out, going to some party with Eva, who was a sophomore at UIC now. The two had always been close, and now that Eva was in college, they were even closer. How Teddy managed to talk her cousin into bringing her to a college party, no one was sure. The campus police busted it up and found Teddy there, making her call her parent to come get her. Carmen tried to ignore the sinking in his chest that Teddy had called Richie over him.

Teddy looked entirely too old sitting on Richie's couch, in a sweatshirt that clearly covered up whatever she was wearing.

"Go." Carmen gave a sharp jerk of his head, pushing the front door open. "Go to the car."

"Dad, I-"

"-Now, Dorothea." Carmen snapped, tracking her with furious eyes while she stomped out the door.

Richie waited until the car door shut to snicker. "That kid," He pointed towards Carmen's car. "Fuckin' Mikey reincarnated, cousin."

"Don't." Carmen shook his head. "Don't fuckin' say that."

"Cousin, hey, woah. I meant that as a compliment, what's the matter with you?" Richie held his hands up in defense.

"A compliment? Mikey was a fuckin' drug addict and blew his brains out-"

"-Carmen, hold up." Richie cut him off, wide eyes that steadied Carmen's shaking nerves. "You... You fuckin' know I would never... Carm." Richie sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Mikey wasn't always a junkie or-or addicted to that shit, ok? I know you fuckin' know that."

Carmen could feel his heart drop, the lump growing thicker and thicker in his throat. It had been years now since Mikey's death, but there were still times it would hit Carmen. Crashing, furious waves that had his chest tightening at the thought.

"Teddy... she's a fuckin' funny kid, alright? That's all I meant. She reminds me of Mikey when we were in high school. Doin' stupid shit and havin' fun. She's a kid, and she's a good kid. Better than Mikey, actually, she's got a better head on her shoulder." Richie said. Carmen didn't move, just let him talk.

"It's not a bad thing to say she's like Mikey. She's a good kid and so was he. He... I mean, he fucked up bad and got all fucked up, but... he was always still good."

"Yeah," Carmen croaked, wiping his nose to hide his emotions. He could see Teddy in the passenger seat, head pressed against the window, scrolling 'sneakily' through her phone (the glare gave her away).

"She didn't snitch on Eva, you know that?" Richie snorted lightly. "Cops asked her who she was with, and she said she was just walkin' by and saw it."

Carmen rolled his eyes. Richie grinned. "That's some Mikey shit right there, don't even say it's not."

"It is." Carmen nodded. "Thanks f'pickin' her up."

"C'mon," Richie shook his head. "Go easy on her, Carm. She's a kid."

Carmen waved him off, hands balled in his jacket when he got in the car. Teddy glanced at him carefully, while Carmen backed out of the drive.

They both didn't say anything, Richie's words ringing around his head. "You hungry?" Carmen muttered.

"What?" Teddy squeaked, a little surprised at his calm demeanor.

"You hungry?" Carmen asked, looking over at her. She wasn't the little toddler that used to clamber around The Bear in plastic heels. No, she was growing up. Older now, looking more like you every single day.

"Yeah." Teddy muttered.

Carmen turned into a diner, a twenty-four-seven one he'd taken you when the two of you were younger. Way younger, before kids, before you ever really even knew each other- when your relationship was new and exciting.

It was dingier now, still smelled like old grease and batter. The coffee was still burnt when it was poured into his cup. Teddy still ordered chocolate chip pancakes which made Carmen's heart swell.

"Hey," Carmen muttered, catching a reflection of his own eyes staring back at him, on a face that looked so much like yours. "I, uh, I want you to know if you ever... If you're ever in a situation like that again, you know you can call me or mom."

Teddy blinked back at him, careful and waiting. "We're not... I mean, we're not gonna be mad if you ever need us, ok? You can always call me if you need to- you should always call me if you need to."

Teddy nodded slowly, twirling her straw around her glass. "So... you're not mad?" She asked hesitantly.

Carmen snorted lightly. "I'm not thrilled, but I'm not mad." He said. "I'm glad you're ok."

Teddy nodded again, lips twisting in thought- just like you did. "So does that mean I'm not in trouble?"

Carmen smirked. "What do you think, kid?" He snorted, shaking his head. Teddy's face fell slightly, face falling in a sullen pout but she nodded anyways.

Carmen made sure Teddy was in her bed when they got home, tucking her in with a kiss to her head, like he always did when she was little. You felt the bed dip, turning towards Carmen's warm chest, his arms finding your waist easily. He smelled faintly like cigarette smoke, stale grease.

"What was wrong with the restaurant?" You muttered, eyes still closed, face burying against his chest.

Carmen would let you think it was the restaurant, at least until the morning. No reason to worry you when Teddy was back home safe. "I got it handled, baby. Go back to bed." His hand slid down your hair, your body melting into his easily.

Carmen lied awake, holding you against his chest, thinking back to Mikey. The good times with Mikey, when he was loud and fun and carefree, always messing with Carmen and just fun. Thinking back to the Mikey he was before. He missed his brother, he did, but Richie was right- Teddy had so many similarities to him, all the good ones. The thought made Carmen comforted, that he still had a part of his brother's spirit still here with him, little reminders of Mikey in his daughter.

[laiiaaa]

LOVE WILL TEAR US APART — CARMEN BERZATTO (part 1)

summary You come back to Chicago for the first time since Christmas five years ago. Seeing Carmen might just split you wide open.

length 5.4k

contents angst, childhood friends to not friends not lovers but a secret third thing, very deeply requited love and everyone knows it except them, family troubles/fighting (giving y’all the Berzatto special), takes place the year of Mikey’s passing so everything is still fresh n rly painful, reader has the nickname ‘Birdie’, there's some fluff dw, happy endings are overrated we die like men

note this was originally going to be 1 part but seeing as the doc is reaching 13k words…here’s just the beginning :)

Wind comes from the pale gray sky and bites at your cheeks and the tip of your nose. Fingers go stiff, a chill runs from the nape of your neck down your spine. Maybe you should’ve worn more than just your jacket; Chicago’s always been a little colder than New York, anyway. You tend to forget the little things.

The windows of the Berzatto house glow yellow with company, and you can hear the bustle just by standing at the door, frosted glass animated by guests. You can picture it like it was yesterday: white yellow lights around every corner, the table set in full with porcelain and silver, hollow presents under the tree, too much talking to hear yourself think. You can still go home to at least save yourself the trouble. Can’t lose if you don’t try, right?

For once, it’s Richie who greets you—not like Mikey’s around to do it anymore, to pull you into a bear hug and tell you how much you’ve grown up, to ease you into the chaos he struggles to navigate himself. Struggled, you have to remind yourself. Past tense.

“Birdie!” he calls out to you, opening the door wide before you can knock, half-expecting you to walk yourself in before meeting you on the porch instead with a big smile.

You look up at him as he plants his warm hands on your shoulders. He’s taller than you remember, but five years time leaves a lot in the ruins. “Hey, Richie.” You lean into the hug and into his chest to at least try to catch your breath, to try and slow down your heart’s racing.

He rubs your back ever so slightly. “It’s good t’see you, kid. ‘S been a while, I missed you ‘n that smile ‘f yours.” He gives you two pats and pulls back to hold you by your arms as he gives you a good look. His brows twitch, subtle enough to nearly miss it, with a sympathetic curve to his mouth. “You doin’ alright?”

Since Mikey died is what he means to add to the end of the question. Maybe it’s Since you up an’ left us. Or Now that you’re finally free.

You stick with the first one and just nod. “I’m okay.” Your eyes flit back to his face before landing on the front door, unease pooling in your gut. “A little nervous to be back in so long.” You let your voice go quiet, and you look at your hands and with wet eyes while your fingers fidget like a tall child. “And I…I miss him, y’know?…I should’ve—” you’re getting choked up now, throat growing tight— “I should’ve been here, or—”

His brows really furrow this time, head tilting to the side before he looks to the sky to bite back any real sadness that could come through in his voice, to keep you from seeing it. Bringing you into a hug again, he mutters, “Shhh, don’t beat yourself up about it, sweetheart. I know you miss him, I know.” A gentle kiss to the top of your head. “We all do.”

Growing up across the street from the Berzattos led them to be a second family to you—and, by extension, Richie, for how inseparable he and Mikey were. Much of your memories as a kid were the two older boys, already teens by the time you came into the picture: Mikey and Richie taking you out to ice cream, Mikey and Richie pushing you on the swings down at the playground, Mikey and Richie teaching you to ride a bike. They might as well have been your older brothers by blood. They always cherished and doted on you, and while it changed in manner as you grew older—from piggy back rides to intimidating prom dates—it was always there. They always cared. Richie still does. Maybe double as much to make up for what’s been lost.

You don’t cry so much into his chest. A few tears fall, sure, but you use the time to just breathe, to close your eyes, to stall. Sniffling, you pull away, wipe your eyes, and straighten your clothes, smoothing creases. “Okay,” you huff. “I’m okay. I’m ready.”

A knowing look. “You sure?”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m good.” Another sniffle. “Promise.”

Richie turns to face the house with you, opening the door while the other hand stays hovering by your shoulder. With the smallest shift in the hinges, noise spills out the door. Small talk in the living room, clinking of glass against tabletops, boisterous laughter, timers ringing in the kitchen, Donna’s voice rolling in. It’s more than you remember. Heavier. Hotter. Richie motions to take your coat and you happily oblige, left to pick at the hems of your sleeves rather than buttons and pockets.

“So,” Richie starts, and with the way he says it you’d think you look like you’re about to pass out, “How’s New York treatin’ ya lately? You a hot-shot lawyer yet?”

You laugh softly, partly to be nice and partly to stave off the awkwardness you feel, like you’re being watched by the rest of the family. “I just passed the bar this year, Richie, I’m barely an associate—”

“Right, right, right—all that stuff goes over my head. Whatever, you’re a genius in my book.”

You smile sheepishly. “Yeah, well the people I work with are just—they’re incredible, how smart they are. I’m a baby compared to them.”

He waves it off as if to say Fuck ‘em. “How’s the livin’ situation, then? You affordin’ it okay, eatin’ good, all that?” He looks a little more stern, more brotherly when he asks it.

“I’m fine.” You look up at him and smile to let him know you’re honest, that you aren’t just saying it to get him off your back. “I really like it out there. I made decent enough money as a paralegal, and I have a roommate with a cushy job in finance. We’re pretty close, but we don’t see each other often with our hours ‘n stuff. Not the best,” you shrug, “But I’m doing pretty well, all things considered.”

He pauses, looks you over to see you’re genuine. “Alright,” he sighs, pulling you into his side and squeezing you tight because he knows you hate it. “I believe ya.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, fuck you.” You’re laughing a little harder for the first time since arriving in Chicago, and it reminds you that it can be close to normal, coming home. “Where’s Nat? I haven’t talked to her since I got off the plane.”

“She’s upstairs resting.” He lets go and starts drifting to the kitchen absentmindedly—why, you’re not sure. “The baby’s got her in a mood, kickin’ ‘n all that, the little fucker—but Pete ‘n Carm ‘r down here somewhere—”

Your heart stops, and for a moment you can’t hear anything but your own thoughts, fragments of his voice and his laughter from memory. Your chest goes tight, your throat runs dry. You knew from Nat and Richie that he’d come back to Chicago a while ago, after Mikey’s funeral, but never in a million years did you think he’d come to Christmas dinner. Richie doesn’t seem as shocked as you think he should be. “Carmen? He’s here?” You nearly whisper it, afraid to be heard if he’s nearby.

He stops walking. “In the kitchen, yeah, why? You talk to ‘im in a while? Figured he’d’ah told ya, me ‘n Nat had to convince ‘im. A real jagoff about it, by the way.” His tone doesn’t say anything more than his words do. Maybe he’s forgotten about everything, or he’s trying to spare you. Maybe he never knew all that much to begin with.

“No,” you answer, quiet with an ache in your chest you haven’t felt in years. “We don’t…we haven’t really talked since the last time I was here…” And I don’t want to change that at the moment is what you don’t say, bile in your throat at the thought of peeling back scabbed wounds.

Before Richie can comment, a loud voice comes to you from the front room: “Is that my little Birdie?”

Cicero. You missed him, honestly.

He huffs himself out of his seat in the living room and welcomes you in the foyer, bringing your attention away from Richie like you’d been hoping to. “Oh, I missed you,” he says, giving a brief kiss to your cheek.

You hug him in return, but really you’re just hoping to get away from the kitchen. “Missed you too.”

Resting his hands on your shoulders, he smiles and looks at your face. “You’ve only gotten more beautiful since the last time I saw you. Like an angel.” He doesn’t let you protest, he only peeks behind you to look at Richie, who leans against the wall with his arms crossed. “Ain’t she beautiful, Richie?”

“Yeah,” he deadpans, unamused. “A real treat she is.”

Cicero looks back to you and speaks lowly. “Ignore that son ‘f a bitch. He’s just jealous ‘cause you’re my favorite.” He winks, gestures to the living room, and takes a few steps while he brings his voice back to a normal volume. “C’mon, tell this ol’ geezer about New York—can’t even remember the last time I was there, musta been ‘83—”

If the rest of the night is like this, you think, Carmen might not be so much of an issue. He could be nothing at all, like he always wanted to be.

He promises himself that he’ll say something by the end of the night. He has to, he thinks, and if not to avoid being an asshole, then to avoid getting reamed by Richie. Carmen realizes he has the upper hand, too, whether he likes it or not: he at least expected you to be here. That doesn’t make it any less terrifying to hear your name. 

The first time is when he’s cutting onions as Richie opens the door, and he gets lucky enough to hear nothing else but the door shutting afterward. An afterthought, a mirage maybe. 

In between that and the second, his name slips by your lips. You whisper it, of course, because you hate him—you hate him for the way he treated you, and for the way he didn’t, and for the fact that he wasn’t man enough to ever speak to you about any of it, or speak to you at all. And despite the fact you try to hide it when you say it, he hears you; he doesn’t think anything could keep him from doing that much. Especially not when it sounds just like you did years ago on those half-broken steps to the back porch, after everything went to shit and there was a hole in the fucking house and you couldn’t stop crying if you tried. He was there for you like he always was: letting you lean your head on his shoulder as you wept, one arm holding you tight to keep you grounded while the other hand nursed a cigarette to keep himself sane. And his name sounded just like it does tonight when you turned to look at him with bleary eyes so many years ago, whispering Carmen? so sweet he wanted to taste the lip gloss that flavored it. That night he did, for a fleeting moment. Before he ruined it.

So of course, he hears you say his name, and he knows it’s you. He doesn’t think anything could keep him from knowing you.

The second time he hears your name it’s like a confirmation. A confirmation that it’s real, you’re real, and you’re here, and it isn’t his mind playing tricks on him like it does when it’s late at night and he’s walking the streets and thinks he sees a girl that looks like you. The rest of the dialogue after the fact goes blurry, the timers going off turn into a monotone buzz, all he hears is chopchopchop against the cutting board until Uncle Jimmy calls you beautiful. He’s sure you are, but he doesn’t want to see it and believe it even more. Your heels click against the hardwood a few times, and he’s not sure where Ma went, but Richie’s standing behind him saying something he can’t decipher and he wants to tell him to Fuck off but he can’t, not now, not tonight.

“Cousin!” Richie snaps, pushing his shoulder. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

He sighs and looks over his shoulder but stays gripping the knife. “No, sorry, say it again—‘m listenin’.”

“Right. So when’s the last time you talked t’her?”

His hand squeezes a little harder, the knife suffers for it. “Talk t’who?”

A quick bang of a hand to the counter top leaves the onions rattled. “Don’t play stupid with me right now, Cousin—” a harsh finger points in Carmen’s face— “or I swear t’God I will fuck you up once this dinner’s over.”

He pauses. He looks past Richie into the foyer where you once stood but quickly goes back to work. Chop. “Look, I dunno, it—it’s just been a while, I dunno the exact fuckin’ date, alright?” Oh, but how vividly he does.

“Yeah? How’s five years to the fuckin’ day sound? Pretty damn accurate, or what?”

No response. Chop.

“You’re a real piece’ah fuckin’ work, y’know that, right?” Richie sounds about as angry as he’s ever been, but it’s different this time: it’s quiet, it’s controlled, it crawls up Carmen’s spine.

“It’s not—it’s not like I meant to, to, uh—”

“ ‘To, to, uh’ what?” he mocks. “To pull the shit you did then go fuckin’ AWOL on ‘er?”

Another beat of silence. Laughter trails in from the living room, and he starts to wonder if it’s you who made it ring. He shakes his head, scrunches his nose. “H—…” Rethinking whether he wants the answer to his question, he puts the knife down and leans into his hands before looking over Richie’s shoulder again. “How, uh…how is she?” It’s muttered, ashamed, the way he asks it, brows furrowed with regret and slithers of hope. “ ‘S she doin’ alright?” He heard bits and pieces of the conversation from just a minute ago, but part of him needs this: to hear it crystal clear, to have it branded beneath his 773 tattoo you traced with an anxious finger, to have the pain be inadmissible such that he can’t forget it.

Without needing to look him in the eye Richie knows to soften his approach. Carmen’s eyes are wet, he’s got that solemn air to him that he gets when he’s thinking about something that forms lumps in his throat, he swipes his hand by his mouth like the words were bitter to say out loud. 

He turns over his shoulder like he’ll get caught and looks down at the chef. “She’s good, Carm,” he sighs, nodding his head slowly and with raised brows. “Real good…Like Cicero said, she—she’s beautiful, ‘n she’s gotta career lined up for ‘er. But—” he hesitates when Carmen looks up— “The look on ‘er face, man, it—it changed when she found out you’re here.”

Something indescribable flows through his veins. “Wh—what d’ya mean?” He shakes his head in denial. “Like, like, it—what’d she look like?” He waits expectantly, and part of him hopes something hard and fast’ll put him out of his misery.

Richie swallows. He smooths a hand over his hair, lets it fall to the nape of his neck while his eyes dance elsewhere. “Listen, she…she just looked like—” He kisses his teeth, unsure of how to phrase it, weary of the first thing to come to mind and whether the subject was worth mentioning at all. He should lay it to rest.

But Carmen is ever the stubborn boy at heart. “Cousin.” Fingers drum against granite. “Looked like what?”

“...Like I’d just stabbed ‘er in the gut.”

The rest of the family is enthralled by you, though whether it’s because they haven’t seen you in five years and miss you, or because it finally gives them an excuse to make Lee let someone else talk, you’re not sure. But by the time they let you get a breath in it feels like three hours have gone by, though when you peek at your watch, it’s barely been thirty minutes. You’d forgotten how exhausting the family is when they’re all together. Your head hurts. It’s too hot. You could use a nap.

Cicero looks at you a little softer from his chair. “Would you like a drink, hon? I should've asked ya before we sat you down for an interrogation.”

“Oh, well,” you start, pausing to let it seem like you aren’t dying for that opportunity, “I’ll have one. Is there wine?”

“Of course there is. I’ll grab a glass for ya—” he begins rising from his chair, but you stop him.

“It’s alright,” you insist. “I don’t mind getting it—in the kitchen?”

He nods, and you’re on your way. You pass by Richie and the Faks in the foyer and try to hide the deep breaths you’re focusing on, eyes shut and shoulders shrugging as Richie eyes the kitchen before you enter like you’ll be walking into a war zone.

It’s exactly what you’d expect: Donna with a glass in hand, Carmen assisting, an ashtray full nearby. Natalie has joined them, so you must have missed her on her way downstairs, and Pete hovers beside her as she speaks to him with a worried look on her face, disjointed from the other two Berzattos.

You’ve nearly psyched yourself up enough to interrupt when Donna notices you, almost instantly placing her glass on the counter. “Oh, Birdie, I—” She looks happy, you think, but with her it’s never been easy to tell. “C’mere, honey.” She opens her arms to you and gifts you a hug, patting your back as she says, “It’s been so long, my beautiful Bird—” she pulls away to get a better look at you and plants a kiss to your cheek, just like Cicero— “Oh gosh, you’re so beautiful, all grown up.” She smells thickly of tobacco.

“Thank you,” you laugh, dazed by so much affection from her, “Cicero said the same, it’s just been a while.”

“Well—” she picks up her glass promptly after her hands leave you— “It’s true, you’re practically glowing. He knows what he’s talking about.” She takes a hefty sip like she can’t get enough, and quickly looks to her son. “Isn’t that right, Carmen?”

From where he stands nudged into the corner, focused on the countertop with nothing to do but wring his hands, his attention perks up to his mother. “What was that, Ma?”

You can’t ignore the fact that she hasn’t acknowledged Natalie nor Pete since you arrived; you’re stuck, looped in with Donna and Carmen and somehow obligated to stay there until you’ve been dismissed. You know how she is. Carmen won’t look at you, either.

“Look at Birdie,” Donna coos, and she gestures to present you to him. Your stomach turns. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” She smiles coolly, looks to Natalie only for a brief moment to rub salt in the wound.

Carmen, reluctantly, looks at you. His golden brown curls are disheveled as always, made messier by anxious runs of his fingers every few minutes. His mouth seems caught in a persistent pout that he won’t let up, and if it were years ago, you’d stay by his side until he broke you just to keep someone in his corner. Beneath his eyes rest dark circles, and he wears a forest green sweater you’ve never seen before. There’s a split second of eye contact that has your breath caught in your throat. You haven’t been able to look at him in what feels like a lifetime, let alone hear his voice—not even over the phone. It’s different than you remember, a little huskier, more fatigued. You wish you couldn’t care.

He gives a shallow nod and a shrug to Donna’s question.  “Yeah.” His eyes meet yours accidentally again before looking back to his mother, apathy bordering on distaste. “She looks nice.”

You look nice. You don’t know what you thought he would say. Part of you wished he would’ve said exactly as Donna did, or that he’d use the word beautiful, or stunning, or pretty, even. But he’s never been one for words—his consolation offerings were limited to a shared cigarette and sitting beside you, and you’ve always resented that part of him since your last Christmas together. If he’d been better with words, it would’ve been just that; there wouldn’t have been the hand on your back turning into an arm wrapped around your shoulder, he never would’ve pressed his lips to your temple for the first time since you were in kindergarten, you would’ve never been close enough to smell tobacco on his breath. You never would’ve known what American Spirits taste like off of anxious lips or what it feels like to be worth everything and then nothing at all.

Donna kisses her teeth and gives you a sympathetic look as she cups her hand to your neck. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t listen to him. He’s just in a mood today.” She sips her wine again, which quickly turns into the rest of the glass.

That’s not a mood, you think. That’s just Carmen.

By the Berzatto standards, dinner preparation blows over without a hitch. The house smells divine, nothing is broken, no one has stormed out. Ma sits down with only five glasses of wine in her system. No one mentions the gaping hole in the seating arrangement at one head of the table—not even Lee.

Carmen feels the weight of it on his shoulders, and he thinks you feel it too. You sit for a few minutes as everyone settles with your head in your hands, eyes closed as you breathe. Every time you open your eyes they shoot to Mikey’s seat, only for your hands to cover them again with a sniffle. Richie keeps a good eye on you, even though they’re getting glassy from watching you, and he rests a soothing hand on your back before leaning down and whispering something Carmen doesn’t catch. You shake your head, perking back up again as you dab at your eyes with your sleeves, looking to Richie and mouthing the words I’m okay with a smile plastered on. Carmen’s skeptical.

Uncle Jimmy insists on saying grace as a way to honor both you and Carmen being in Chicago for the holiday, and instinctively he looks to you, looking for something to hold onto to let things feel normal with you, but you keep your eyes closed. Since you walked into the kitchen nearly an hour ago he hasn’t been able to get his mind off of the sweetheart neckline of your dress, or the locket pendant hanging close to your chest. Mikey gifted it to you, he remembers, when you earned your undergraduate degree—presented in a black velvet box when you saw him after the ceremony, you cried. Carmen wasn’t there; he was in Copenhagen, doing other things. He can’t quite remember what.

Grace gives way to a more quiet bustle of the dinner, where talking is more or less limited to passing plates and taking first bites, making sure everyone has said hello to everyone. He sits almost silent, taking a measly bite every few moments to avoid an excuse to talk. He notices you don’t navigate this dinner like you have the countless ones before: you’re engaged tonight, laughing with Richie beside you and looping Sugar and Pete into your banter; you’re no longer the teen you once were, who would sit at the end of the table with him to stay quiet and barely munch on dinner, the two youngest with Mikey to your sides, pestering the both of you to Eat, ‘fore Ma tells you to. And it’s not a bad thing, either. You always had that way about you like Mikey did, where you could make conversation with anyone, make them fall in love with you, make them think you’re their best friend. He’s always thought you were his, anyway. You look happier than he’s ever seen you. Ever since he could remember, he had a feeling you’d outshine him.

It’s like Ma said—you’re glowing.

It’s nearing fifteen minutes since the food being served when Sugar nudges him on his right. “You alright, Bear?” She keeps it quiet, under the radar. “You haven’t eaten much.”

He nods and takes a bite to cover his tracks. “Yeah, yeah—just not that hungry, ‘s all.” He hasn’t eaten today. It’s the nerves, really, of seeing everyone—of seeing Ma, seeing you. Brings him back to New York, where his morning ritual included huddling over the toilet and rinsing his mouth until he couldn’t taste stomach acid anymore. He’s hoping that with being in the kitchen all day, she doesn’t pry. “Thanks, Sug.”

She furrows her brows but drops the subject with a bit of a pout. “…Okay.”

“So,” Stevie starts, at the opposite corner of the table, leaning over his plate to smile at you from down the table. “Birdie—can I call you Birdie? Is that okay?”

You smile that smile you always do when you’re caught off-guard before shrugging lightheartedly and taking a bite. “Uh, sure. I mean, everyone here does.”

Richie makes eyes at you, weirded out, and Carmen tries to follow, but you only link with the older of the two. He’s shut out.

“Great. I’ve been wondering—why does everyone call you that? I mean, I know Sugar here’s got an origin story, so what’s yours?”

“Oh, this is such a sweet one,” Ma chimes in, hands over her heart. “They was so adorable, her ‘n Carmen.” The words have warmth blossoming in his chest and rising to his neck.

“Yeah,” you laugh, “I’m probably not the best person to tell you; I was really little.” You try to stifle a smile at the thought, and Carmen knows it’s the same thought as his: Mikey loved that story. “Richie’s probably man for the job.” You look up to the man on your left and pat him on the back to startle him. “Aren’t ya, Rich?”

“Uh, yeah, fuck that.” He nods to Carmen. “He can tell ya, Stevie, he was the one dancin’ with ‘er like an idiot, not me.” He shoves three bites’ worth of food into his mouth so he won’t have to talk anymore.

Sugar cuts in, “He was also five, he had nothin’ to do with picking that name.”

“Yeah?” he taunts, mouth still full because he can’t help but put up a fight, “Then you were eleven, missy, so you can tell it. You remember.”

The room starts spinning, there’s back and forth between Sugar and Richie, and Neil’s roped into it, and then Michelle’s convincing them to calm down, but Richie’s still going at it, starting to tell the story, but Ma says it’s not right, and Sugar cuts in again, and the room is still spinning and his head won’t stop pounding and there isn’t enough water in the world to clear his throat.

“Alright, alright!” It’s Uncle Jimmy now, almost shouting, waving his hands to simmer the room. Carmen would thank him if he could speak. “I’ll tell the damn story, you all settle down, eh?” He clears his throat, sips on his drink. “Our Birdie here, when she was real young, now she was a singer. All the time, some tune. Didn’t even have t’be a real song, she’d be hummin’ it anyway.”

You’re sheepish as Uncle Jimmy praises you, grinning to yourself and rolling your eyes at the embarrassment. Cute, Carmen thinks. He smiles and takes a bite of his food.

“An’ remember,” Uncle Jimmy continues, “This was late ‘90s, we didn’t have none’ah that YouTube, Spotify music bullshit, whatever’s popular with you people now—so anyway. We had this boombox for the longest time—”

“Yeah,” Richie interrupts, “Was a real piece a shit, that’s for damn sure.”

Cicero points to Richie while looking at Steve. “Correct. So one Christmas, many, many years ago—”

“Don’t make it sound so cryptic,” you giggle, and Carmen has a tiny fire lit in his chest, eyes trapped on your smile. He remembers that night—not so vividly, but enough.

“Right, right. I apologize, sweetheart.” Uncle Jimmy turns back to Stevie. “One Christmas the weather was especially bad—snow storm, crazy winds, Christmas lights flyin’ everywhere—and the power goes out. An’ our boombox ain’t workin’, got jammed or somethin’.” He shrugs, makes a face that’s unassuming. “So whatta ya do for the music, then? Everyone knows you need holiday music, eh?”

With you, Carmen laughs for the first time tonight. He likes it that way, uninterrupted by the noise of the other guests, who are all listening fondly and eating their meals. It’s like that special Christmas all over again. You’re so pretty when you’re laughing, part of him is a little jealous that anyone else gets to see you like this.

“So Mikey comes up with a great idea. We already got a singer, right? So we just need ‘er to do the holiday songs. So we get ‘er, ‘n we ask her to sing for us all—me, Donna, Mikey, Richie, Sugar, ‘n Carmen, that was it ‘cause ‘ah the storm—but she won’t do it.”

“They were tryin’ to force me, Stevie!” You smile up the table and back at Uncle Jimmy. Carmen beams back at you even though you’re not looking. Richie is.

“An’ she’s cryin’,” Uncle Jimmy continues, “An’ she’s all nervous, she can’t do it, whatever. Then our little Carmy Bear over there—” he shoots him a look with a smug and pointing finger, and Carmen flushes, grinning at his plate to hide from you— “Now he’s her knight in shinin’ armor.”

Everyone smiles at that—you, Richie, Sug, Ma, and Carmen, and everyone else—because that’s the truth. At least it was, for a while. You and Carmen keep your smiles downcast, hidden from the other, and Richie and Sugar make eyes at one another, looking between the two of you.

“He gets ‘er outta her hidin’ spot behind the couch where she was cryin’ an’ he brings ‘er a wooden spoon for a microphone, and he whispers somethin’ to ‘er—to this day I dunno what, coulda been anythin’ for all I care—and all of a sudden she wants to sing again. She sings Rudolph, Jingle Bells, Frosty the Snowman, all the stuff the kids knew, an’ she does it all with this wooden spoon, with our little Bear holdin’ ‘er hand the whole time.”

“An’ he didn’t even do anythin’!” Richie points out. “Just stood there, swingin’ ‘er arm like a jagoff—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Uncle Jimmy waves off, “But he did it for ‘er. And so,” he says, a finality in his tone, looking back at Stevie across the table, “Birdie is born. Our little Christmas song bird protected by the Big Bear. An’ the rest is history.”

Stevie smiles and nods his head. “That was sweet. Really, really sweet.”

“Oh,” Ma laments, “I just love that story. They were such babies then, so cute. It was always Birdie ‘n Carmy doin’ this, Carmy ‘n Birdie doin’ that. Always on their little adventures together. He took her everywhere.”

Carmen smiles to himself, head down as he eats his food. He doesn’t think of his childhood often, more so the teenage years if anything, when he was failing school. Hearing back such a memory brings up a sense of nostalgia—not necessarily for being a kid again, or doing those stupid things, but for how easy it was.

Ma is right: it was you and him together for the ride, up until it wasn’t. He never cared as much after reaching high school. You were in different buildings, and he saw you around but didn’t spend as much time with you anymore. He outgrew you, it seemed. Even in his early twenties when that fire rekindled, he devoted himself to his work. You were still close, closer than you were with anyone else in the family, and nothing would ever change that. But life ran its course.

And it ran pretty damn fast.

[yourpenpaldee]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ WRITEBLR INTRODUCTION.

I don't usually put myself out there as it makes me nervous. But I've been a lurker for way too long, and it's about time I step out of my comfort zone. So, hello! I'm Dee (she/her), twenty-two, and have found my voice with storytelling.

Writing has always been a passion of mine, and continues to be the tool I turn to when I need an outlet to freely express myself. I have, unfortunately, hit a rough patch with consistency, and I'm here to bring all of that motivation and inspiration back. Especially since there are one too many WIPs sitting on the backburner, and they're all calling my name.

As someone who loves to dip their toes into every genre of fiction, I will read anything that peaks my interest. However, when it comes to creating, my works usually fall under romance and mystery. With practice, I intend on branching out into other genres I don't write often. There's a lot to explore in the world of writing, and I don't want to limit myself to only two categories.

Creating this blog provides me the space I need to accomplish the many goals I often dream of achieving. I acknowledge that it all starts with the ability to hold myself accountable. To show up for myself. To become comfortable with the uncomfortable. Putting myself and my projects out into the world is only the first of many steps, and it feels quite liberating.

I aim to use the voice I've found to not only contribute to the progression of POC representation, but to touch on several topics that remain heavily stigmatized in today's media. There’s a joy that runs through my veins every time I see someone like me on my screen or in a book. I feel seen, heard, and proud. I feel important. But as a creator, there’s that itch that can only be scratched when I create. When I make something that lets the next person know that they’re not invisible. That they're valued, loved, and appreciated. That's what I hope for when someone reads a project of mine. For them to feel the same rush of joy flowing through them as it does me.

Wow, I’m a yapper. I'd like to close this intro off with some fun facts, so here are some of my top five favorites with sidenotes because I still want to yap a bit more about the things I adore.

SOLO ARTISTS:

ARI LENNOX ✧ ˚ · . CHOCOLATE POMEGRANATE — GET CLOSE — GOAT — POF — UP LATE

HALSEY ✧ ˚ · . 100 LETTERS — I HATE EVERYBODY — NIGHTMARE — ROMAN HOLIDAY — THE LIGHTHOUSE

HOPE TALA ✧ ˚ · . CHERRIES — EDEN — I CAN'T EVEN CRY — LEAVE IT ON THE DANCEFLOOR — SUNBURN

MELANIE MARTINEZ ✧ ˚ · . ALPHABET BOY — DEAD TO ME — EVIL — NOTEBOOK — STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE

HALIMA ✧ ˚ · . DOWNTOWN — FORD CARDINAL — IF LOVE WAS GREEN — SAMANTHA — TALK

BANDS:

5 SECONDS OF SUMMER ✧ ˚ · . AIRPLANES — BETTER MAN — KILL MY TIME — LONG WAY HOME — TEARS!

FALL OUT BOY ✧ ˚ · . BANG THE DOLDRUMS — CHICAGO IS SO TWO YEARS AGO — HEADFIRST SLIDE INTO COOPERSTOWN ON A BAD BET — NOBODY PUTS BABY IN THE CORNER — WHERE DID THE PARTY GO

FLO ✧ ˚ · . CARDBOARD BOX — FLY GIRL — IMMATURE — SUITE LIFE (FAMILIAR) — WALK LIKE THIS

PARAMORE ✧ ˚ · . BIG MAN, LITTLE DIGNITY — CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE — FRANKLIN — MISGUIDED GHOST — PART II

THE INTERNET ✧ ˚ · . DONTCHA — HOLD ON — LOOK WHAT U STARTED — SOMTHING'S MISSING — SPECIAL AFFAIR

GAMES:

CORAL ISLAND ✧ ˚ · . IF I START LISTING NAMES, I'M GOING TO MENTION EVERYONE. BUT I'M A LOYAL MARK GIRL. AND NOAH... AND MILLIE, EVA, BEN, Y—

DISNEY DREAMLIGHT VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . THIS IS SUCH A COMFORT GAME THAT SOOTHES MY INNER CHILD.

DON'T STARVE [TOGETHER] ✧ ˚ · . I MAY OR MAY NOT STILL SUCK AT THIS GAME AFTER A SOLID THREE YEARS, BUT I'M A WIGFRID MAIN.

STARDEW VALLEY ✧ ˚ · . I LOVE SEBASTIAN AND LEAH, AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL IF I HAVE TO.

THE SIMS 4 ✧ ˚ · . WHERE I SPEND A LOT MORE TIME IN CREATE-A-SIM AND BUILD MODE COMPARED TO PLAYING THE ACTUAL GAME.

TROPES:

FAKE RELATIONSHIP ✧ ˚ · . MHM... JUST SAY YOU LIKE EACH OTHER ALREADY.

FATED MATE ✧ ˚ · . I'M A BIT PICKY ABOUT THIS TROPE THOUGH. THINGS TEND TO MOVE VERY QUICKLY BUT I ENJOY IT NONETHELESS.

FRIENDS TO LOVERS ✧ ˚ · . A CLASSIC THAT DOESN'T NEED AN EXPLANATION.

REUNION ✧ ˚ · . ESPECIALLY IF THEY WERE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AND THEY REMINISCE OLD MEMORIES, OH MY GOODNESS. I EAT THIS TROPE UP EVERY TIME.

SLOWBURN ✧ ˚ · . NO DOUBT THIS IS MY MOST FAVORITE TROPE. THE BUILDUP TO EVEN THE TINIEST PIVOTAL MOMENT ALWAYS MAKES MY HEART THUMP.

TV SHOWS:

CRIMINAL MINDS ✧ ˚ · . YES, I’LL WATCH ALL 16 SEASONS FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME AND FALL IN LOVE WITH PRENTISS EACH TIME. WE WERE ALSO ROBBED OF BEARDED HOTCH CONTENT.

BRIDGERTON ✧ ˚ · . DO I CRY EVERY TIME I WATCH GEORGE AND CHARLOTTE'S STORY? YES. WILL I CONTINUE TO REWATCH IT AND RECITE THE LINES EVERY TIME SOMETHING REMINDS ME OF IT? ASOLUTELY.

THE BEAR ✧ ˚ · . I WISH I KNEW OF AYO EDEBIRI BEFORE THIS SHOW BECAUSE THAT WOMAN IS AMAZING??? LIKE, HELLO???

THE EQUALIZER ✧ ˚ · . *mini spoiler* STILL CAN'T STOP THINKING OF DANTE'S GRIN WHEN HE GOT TO SEE MEL, ROB, AND HARRY'S LITTLE WORK SPOT FOUR SEASONS LATER.

SWEET MAGNOLIAS ✧ ˚ · . HELEN, MADDIE, AND DANA SUE IS HOW I PICTURE MY FRIENDS AND I IN THE FUTURE. MARGARITA NIGHTS, BEING AUNTIES TO EACH OTHER'S CHILDREN, UGH. I LOVE THEM WHOLEHEARTEDLY.

And that concludes this introduction on me and this blog. I would love to connect and befriend other authors, so please don't hesitate to reach out as my DMs will always be open! I'd love to support and read your works, so don't be hesitant to share them with me if you'd like.

I hope you all will enjoy reading my works as much as I enjoy the process of bringing my ideas to life.

divider creds to strangergraphics ♡

[inthe-dark-tonight]

Falling into My Sins

chapter one: back in the alleyway

dbf!joel x fem!reader series- loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy

chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6

summary: it’s your first night out since moving back with your dad after graduating college. while at the bar you meet an attractive mystery man and end up hitting it off. things get heated when you convince him to dance with you.

word count: 2.7k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no outbreak AU, age gap (reader is in their 20s, Joel is in his 40s) alcohol consumption, light swearing, slight dubious consent (things get heated while drunk), pet names (sweetheart, babe, etc.), no use of y/n, no physical description of reader.

notes: this is my first time really writing anything so i’m very nervous to post this , i've also been working on one other fic but i decided to post this first. thank you for taking the time to read and any feed back is welcome & appreciated xo <3

also thank you so much to @shatteredbaby for proof reading ily so much bby, and @pr0ximamidnight for also proof reading, letting me ramble like a maniac and helping me with ideas ilysm. i appreciate you both so so so much <3

It’s your first weekend going out since you’ve moved back home with your dad. You’ve just graduated from the Art institute of Chicago in the spring, but your lease wasn’t up on your apartment until August so you stayed near campus until then. Now that you’re back, some of your old friends from high school offered to take you out as a sort of welcome home. You’re just finishing getting ready when you get a text from your friend Aya.

We’re here!! Hurry up Dee is getting impatient!

You roll your eyes and smile. Typical. You’re a bit nervous since you haven’t seen them in about a year, but you’re sure once you’re out it will feel like you weren’t even gone. You throw on a jacket and run down the stairs, grabbing your keys as you go.

“I’m leaving!” You call out.

“Have fun bud!” Your dad shouts from the other room.

Your parents had recently divorced while you were away, so it’s just you and your dad now. You feel kinda bad leaving him alone when you just got back, but you’ll make up for it.

You close the front door behind you and run down your front porch towards Aya’s car. As you get closer, the passenger window rolls down.

“Ahhhhh you’re back!!!” Your friend, Dee, yells. You laugh at her reaction and open the back door to the car.

“Hey!” You slide in and buckle your seat belt.

Aya turns around with one hand still on the wheel. “Long time no see! Tonight’s gonna be fun,” she says with a smile.

“We’re taking shots as soon as we get there,” Dee says with a sly smile and you laugh, leaning back fully into the seat as Aya drives, heading for downtown.

As soon as the three of you find a bar, Dee keeps her promise and orders you all shots and they send you to find a booth while they wait for the order. There aren’t many people in the bar yet since it’s only nine, but it’s slowly filling up. You look around the place, taking in the large bar that runs across one wall with stools gathered around it and across from it is the booth seating you’ve sat in. There are a few high top tables scattered around the perimeter of the bar, a pool table to the right of the door next to the large dance floor in the center that’s currently empty, and the sounds of eighties and nineties rock hits filling the large room.

As you’re looking around, the door to the bar opens and two men walk in. The first man has long dark curly hair, a patchy beard, and he’s wearing dark jeans paired with a tan jacket and brown boots. The other man has shorter dark hair, a similarly patchy beard streaked with gray, and he’s wearing dark jeans paired with a green flannel and brown boots. He’s quite handsome, you think – broader than the first man, his frame stretching the fabric of the flannel to its limit. Your eyes flick back up to his face, taking in the curve of his nose, the crease between his brows and dark brown eyes. When your eyes meet, he’s looking right at you and you immediately glance away, embarrassed that he caught you checking him out. When you dare to look at him again, his gaze is still locked on you.

“Okay, let’s do this!” Dee says as the girls approach the table with a round of shots and a drink for each of you.

Your eyes snap away from the man’s and you smile at them, grabbing a shot glass.

“To celebrate your return home,” Dee says, raising her glass for you to toast against.

You tilt your head back letting the cold liquid slide down. You close your eyes and wince as the sour flavor with the aftertaste of vodka that burns your throat. When you open your eyes again you’re met with the stranger’s warm brown eyes on you still, a shy smile on his face before he turns towards the bar and leans on the wooden counter. You set the glass down on the table and look back to your friends.

The three of you sip on your drinks for about thirty minutes or so, talking about school and catching up on life. At some point while you were all catching up, the bar switched to playing early 2000s music as more people came in. You find your eyes wandering towards the gorgeous man every few minutes, admiring his side profile, the way his hand is wrapped around his beer bottle and his shirt is rolled up to expose his forearms.

You all finish your drinks and Aya is pulling you and Dee onto the dance floor. “Come on!! I love this song!!!”

You don’t recognize the song, but you follow them onto the floor dancing and smiling as they sing along. You find yourself looking towards the bar again hoping to catch the man’s eye, but he’s gone.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to get another drink.” You say loudly over the music.

The girls just nod and keep singing along. You make your way through the crowd that’s formed in the place and find the bar. Your eyes are still scanning, looking for him, when all of a sudden someone comes up beside you, leaning onto the bar. From the corner of your eye you can tell who it is. You turn your head and it’s the mystery man. He’s even more attractive up close, a dimple on his right cheek as he smiles down at you, slight creases next to his eyes. Your eyes travel down towards his broad shoulders and the skin on his chest that’s showing where his shirt is unbuttoned.

“Hi.” the man says while smiling down at you. His voice is like honey, deep with a southern drawl.

Your lips slightly part as you hesitate for a second “Hi.” you finally say back.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He nods towards the bar.

You shake your head in agreement.

“What are you havin’, sweetheart?” He asks.

You clear your throat. “Whatever you’re having.” You smile.

“Hm.” his lip quirks up as his eyes roam your form. The bartender comes over and he orders two beers, then his eyes are back on you. “You here with friends?”

“Yeah uh, I was out of town, I just got back so we’re celebrating.” You decide to keep it vague.

“Well,” the bartender comes back with your beers and he hands one to you. “Welcome back.” He smirks, then you both take a sip.

You can’t help but watch the way his hand wraps around the bottle as he brings it up to meet his lips. You take a few sips of your beer, eyes still locked on him, then place it back on the counter. You’re feeling a little more confident now.

“What about you,” you place your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your hand, looking up at him. “Who are you here with?”

He looks over his shoulder into the crowd, an amused look on his face. “My brother.” You follow his eyes to see his brother sitting in a booth with a girl, leaning into her as they talk.

You giggle then turn back to the man. You’re noticing some similar features now that you know they’re brothers.

“You two come here every weekend chatting up girls and buying them drinks?” You bite your cheek and give him a teasing look.

He nods his head slowly looking down at the bar where he’s leaning on his forearms and lets out a small laugh. “Every now n’ then.” He looks back at you, a slight flush on his cheeks.

“Mmm bit of a player huh?” You lift your brow, teasing him some more.

He’s laughing again, it’s a deep chested laugh that makes his shoulders slightly bounce. “Wouldn’t say that, haven’t had much luck recently.” He looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes.

You nod your head taking another swig of your beer “So, what do you do for a living?” You ask nonchalantly.

“Uh,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’m a contractor.” that explains his broad shoulders.

You bite your thumb and lean a little closer to him, arm brushing up against his. The alcohol is definitely taking an effect now. You’re checking him out again, and it’s not subtle. The way his shirt fits snug around his biceps, and his jeans fit his waist just right. He takes another sip of his beer and your eyes lock again.

Then suddenly a song you recognize comes on, Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado. You hear your friends squealing on the dance floor as the song starts, causing you to whip your head towards them then back to the mystery man.

“I’ll be right back.” You smile at him sweetly, finishing off your beer and setting the empty bottle on the table before leaving to join your friends.

You get out to the floor and they hold their hands out towards you, smiling and singing along to the song. You’re swaying your hips to the beat, mouthing the lyrics as you dance. Your hands are moving up and down your body, over the tights you’re wearing and slightly bunching up the short slip dress you have on. You’re lost in the music, then suddenly your eyes lock with the mystery man’s again, darkening as they watch you move. He’s leaning up against the bar, beer in one hand and the other in his front pocket.

‘Promiscuous boy you already know

That I’m all yours, what you waiting for?’

You’re mouthing the words, eyes never leaving his. You tilt your head to the side and give him a cheeky smile before moving your hands over your hips again. He lifts his hand out of his pocket, beckoning you back to him with his pointer finger. You shake your head no, and mimic his motion telling him to come to you. You turn away from him, back towards your friends, then glance at him over your shoulder and mouth, “Dance with me.”

A few moments later you feel a large warm hand run down your arm, and the back of a hand runs over the nape of your neck and down your shoulder before resting on your hips. You turn your head to look and it’s your mystery man, looking down at you with desire in his eyes. You turn around, still in his grasp, and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your body flush to his.

You’re swaying with his hands on your hips now, grinding up against him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he leans his forehead against yours, taking in a deep breath. You tilt your head up, heavy lidded eyes scanning his face and your nose bumping his, your parted lips allowing a shared breath in the scant space between your mouths.

Then he’s kissing you, one hand on your hip lightly squeezing, the other resting on your cheek. He lets out a small groan and slips his tongue into your mouth, a mixture of mint and beer fill your senses. You gently pull the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to let out a sigh.

“Sweetheart.” His voice sounds gravelly and deeper than before. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“Then don’t,” you say, so low it’s almost a whisper, just between the two of you.

You’re so close to him, you can feel his arousal straining against his pants as you press yourself against him.

“Come with me.” he looks down at you while trying to catch his breath.

He kisses you again, hand resting on your cheek. You nod approvingly as he pulls away. He doesn’t hesitate, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you off the dance floor towards the door. You notice his hand is much larger than yours, a little rough and calloused most likely from his job. He looks back at you a few times, and you just stare at his broad frame as you follow him. You look at the way his hair sits so perfectly, eyes wandering to his large forearms as he pulls you along behind him.

Moments later you two are outside and he’s pulling you around the side of the brick building. He backs you up against the wall, lips immediately crashing into yours. His palms rest on either side of your face, thumbs roughly caressing your cheeks like he just can’t get enough.

“You were killing me in there,” He’s towering over you, your hands clinging to his forearms.

“Was I? Couldn’t tell.” you smile slyly.

He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re somethin’ else babe, deadly.” he’s kissing you again, hands moving down your body to your waist.

You grab at the fabric of his shirt near his chest, trying desperately to pull him closer. His large hands find the hem of your dress and move up over your tights clad thighs. You moan into his mouth, heat already starting to build at your core. Moans and heavy breaths filling the air as you claw at his skin. You gently bite at his lower lip then slip your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. As you lower your hands towards the waist of his jeans, tucking your fingers into the front and pulling his hips flush against yours, you feel him shudder. You let out a whine as you feel the imprint of his straining cock once again.

Then you hear the door to the bar bursting open and two familiar voices talking. “It’s okay, it’s okay, shhhh.”

You freeze as your lips leave Joel’s, wide eyes meeting his before stepping away from him to peer around the corner. He lets out a groan as he adjusts himself, one hand still on your hip trailing behind you as you near the corner of the building. Then you see Aya with her arm around Dee, rubbing her back. You stand up straight, pulling away from Joel.

“Oh my god?! What happened?” You sprint over to them.

“Oh thank god, we were looking everywhere for you.” Aya looks up at you. “Dee had too much to drink, we need to go.” She loops her arm into Dee’s. “I grabbed your things, where were you?”

Then you see her eyes wander to the broad older man shuffling up behind you and her eyes go wide. She leans in close to you and mouths “Oh my god”. You can feel your face heating up as you turn around to face him.

“You ladies need a ride home?” He looks down at you, concerned look on his face.

“Oh uh.” You turn back to Aya.

“No, we've got it covered-” she smiles at him.

“But thank you,” it comes out louder than intended. “I appreciate it,” taking a step closer to him you whisper “And sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, Killer.” He flashes a charming smile at you.

“Killer?” You laugh at the nickname and he nods his head.

“We gotta go!” Aya yells out to you.

You whip your head to look at her, then your eyes meet his again. “Well, it was nice meeting you, mystery man.” You give him one last look and go to turn around towards your friends. He gently grabs your shoulder, surprising you.

“Wait,” it comes out soft as he whips you around to face him again. “Can I at least have your number?”

You hesitate for a moment. “What, so you can add me to your roster?” You try to hold back a smile.

“C’mon.” he looks away shaking his head, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

“Give me your phone.” He looks back at you, relief in his eyes. Then he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to you.

You type in your number and put your contact name as Killer. You hand him back his phone and quickly get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. His eyes go slightly wide, and then you’re turning away, running towards the car before he can say anything. As you grab your jacket and purse from your friend and slip into the car, you smile at him before closing the door.

You watch him through the window standing there with his hands in his pockets as the car pulls away. Your mystery man, you hope to see him again.

ty for reading xo

tagging a few moots but np! anyone who wants to be tagged in the next one let me know :)

@nostalxgic @ilovepedro @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @beskarandblasters @jenispunk @tieronecrush @joelsversion @pedrospartner @canseethebrushstrokes @scrambledslut @isitmeulookin4 @tinygarbage <3

[megalony]

This Is Fate- Part 3

This is the newest part in my Dark! Evan Buckley series, I hope you all like it, feedback is always amazing.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz

@5hundreddaysofsummer @soryuwifeyxx @targaryenluvs

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Eddie is surprised when his little sister comes to LA and asks to stay with him. She needs a fresh start, a break away from everything back home, and her ex. When she meets the team, Evan takes a special interest in her.

Enjoy.

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*2 missed calls. *4 unread messages.

Oh dear. It was starting again. (Y/n) could feel her breakfast crawling up the back of her throat as she stared down at her phone, chewing on her nail out of nervous habit.

It was okay. Everything was okay. This wasn't the same as it was before. She wasn't getting fifteen messages every hour and five to ten missed calls like she did when she tried to ghost Evan and move on from him.

She didn't want to read his messages, but something in her gut told her she had to. Ignoring them wouldn't make them go away and ignoring Evan wouldn't make him stop. He knew where she was. He knew she was pregnant and he was worming his way back into her life. What good would ignoring him do now?

When she first broke things off with him, Evan pretended she hadn't said anything. He called and messaged as if they were still a loving couple. But then he began getting anxious. He followed her, he tracked where she was going. He got angry when she started to ignore him and he wouldn't stop. He wouldn't leave her alone.

He turned up outside her old job, outside Chrissy's house. When she changed her number he somehow found out her new one and spammed her with messages and calls.

He told her he loved her and she couldn't throw that away. He had been desperate to find someone to connect with and settle down with like the rest of his friends. Evan wanted what life didn't seem to give him and once he found (Y/n), he knew she was the girl he wanted to be with. It didn't matter to him what he had to do to keep her, as long as she was his.

And now she was pregnant, she always would be.

She knew she couldn't avoid him or ignore him forever, especially not for very long before he would come to find her and talk to her in person. She may as well take the plunge and read the messages she had gotten this morning.

Slumping her bag down on the table, (Y/n) flopped into a seat and dragged her free hand through her hair.

She was suddenly glad she had turned up to her first shift at the call centre ten minutes early.

*Morning, how are my girls today? XX

Missed Call.

*Please don't tell me you're ignoring me (Y/n). Especially not after the fun we had the other day.

*I want to see you, will you come over to mine for coffee tomorrow after my shift? Please.

Missed Call.

*(Y/n) you were the one who said we need to talk about this, that's what I want. You're here in LA, I'm back here for good and back at work. And I know you don't want to do this alone, I want to be involved, this is my baby too. Just let me know.

A shiver crawled down (Y/n)'s spine and she turned off her phone and dropped her head down onto her folded arms on the table.

He was right. As manic as he was starting to sound in those texts, he was right. They needed to talk, they had to work things out and decide what they were going to do and where they were going from this point onwards.

But (Y/n) didn't want to go round and talk with Evan if it was going to end up how things ended last week.

She didn't want to end up in bed with him.

It would be a better idea to meet for a drink in a cafe, somewhere public where Evan would have a hard time dragging (Y/n) to bed or clinging to her and never letting her go. Staying at his place sounded dangerous.

Once, when they had been in a heated argument, Evan had locked his apartment door back when he lived near Chrissy and he hid the keys. He effectively locked (Y/n) in his home and wouldn't let her leave. It didn't matter how scared he made her or how she cried and begged him to let her go so they could both cool off.

He told her in no uncertain terms that he 'knew she was going to leave and he wasn't letting it happen'. He wouldn't lose another girlfriend, someone he felt a big connection to. He wasn't going to let (Y/n) walk out and leave him.

She had to stay with Evan for two days in his apartment until he cooled down and apologised. (Y/n) couldn't do that again. Not when she was pregnant and knew this would rile up the dark side of Evan that she never wanted to see again.

She lifted her head off her arms when her phone vibrated on the table. Another message.

*Oh, and enjoy your first day at work. XX

How did he know she was starting a new job today? How did Evan know this was her first day? How did he even know she had a job lined up?

Had Eddie told him? Did Eddie tell him where she was working, or just briefly mention in conversation that she had a job now?

Maybe Chris told him. Chris was happy that (Y/n) had a job because it meant she was permanently staying here with them. He knew she wasn't going to go home or leave LA if she had a job here and that was what Chris wanted. He wanted his family all here with him. He wanted (Y/n) to stay and be here with him and Eddie.

As long as he didn't know where she worked or started to come round and wait for her after work like he used to.

When she met Evan, he wasn't at work, he was on sick leave because of the surgeries he needed for his leg. That was why he left LA for a while and when he met (Y/n). He had a lot of time on his hands and mixed with his anxiety, it made him obsessive. He knew what days she was working without (Y/n) having to tell him. He waited around for her after work to walk her home and wouldn't leave.

Evan messaged her and if she didn't reply, the messages became more demanding, more crippling and concerning and frightening.

He wouldn't let go, he wouldn't relent and he wouldn't stop stop overwhelming her.

"Oh, hi. You must be the new starter."

(Y/n) looked up from her phone and did her best to smile when she looked at who walked into the break room.

She looked a little older than (Y/n), with long chocolate brown hair that reached her shoulders and kind dark eyes that creased at the corners when she smiled. Rings dotted her fingers and two necklaces hung round her neck dangling beneath her maroon shirt with the dispatch logo in the corner.

"Hi, yeah I'm (Y/n)." She put her phone in her bag and shuffled her chair further under the table as she tried to sit up straight.

"I'm Maddie, lovely to meet you." She took a seat at the table and when they shook hands, (Y/n) felt herself starting to relax.

Maybe she was going to make some new friends here. She didn't have many friends in her last job. And (Y/n) knew she wasn't going to be working here for long before she went off on maternity leave. She wasn't sure if that was going to screw with trying to make friends and get along with colleagues here.

(Y/n) just wanted a fresh start with her family in LA and she had to make the most of it because Evan was here too. He wasn't going to make this the new start she wanted, this fresh start was going to include him whether (Y/n) liked it or not.

"So, where did you work before here?"

"A few different places, really… I used to live in Texas."

She watched something wash over Maddie's face, whether it was recognition or surprise she couldn't be sure. But it made her eyes crinkle and her cheeks puffed out as she grinned softly. It was as if they had been friends for months rather than just meeting and somehow, (Y/n) felt like she already knew the woman sitting beside her.

"Oh, (Y/n), you know I thought I recognised you. You're Eddie's sister, right? Buck said you were starting work here, it's lovely to meet someone else connected to the team."

"You know the 118?" She wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer or not.

She could feel all the blood draining down to her toes and her head started to swim. Another person connected to the famous station. The station where her brother worked and her ex- was he really her ex after last week- was the golden boy who could do no wrong.

Everyone loved Evan. (Y/n) loved Evan, but why did she have to be the only one who saw the dark side of him?

"Oh I know them very well. Buck's my little brother and I'm sort of, dating Chimney." She smiled and leaned her head to one side, but her words felt like rocks settling in the pit of (Y/n)'s stomach.

This was Evan's sister.

This was the girl who raised him, the one he thought of as more of a mother than a sister. His guardian angel.

She worked at the call centre. (Y/n) was going to be working alongside Evan's big sister. Evan was going to be able to find out what shifts she was working, just like he managed back home. He would know if something happened at work or if she tried to sneak off to an appointment without telling him. Every movement she made, Evan was going to find out. Again.

Nothing was going to change. (Y/n) wanted this baby to change things. Since seeing Evan again, she prayed that maybe their daughter would switch his attitude. She hoped their girl would curb his actions and calm him down and make him relaxed and less anxious. If his obsessive behaviour dwindled down (Y/n) would be able to try and make their relationship work.

But if she worked alongside his sister, how was anything going to change if Evan started asking questions? If he started his old behaviour up again, (Y/n) had no chance of working things out with him.

"Are you okay? You look a little flushed." Maddie reached across the table and rested her hand on (Y/n)'s arm.

"First day jitters." (Y/n) could barely hear herself speak and she knew her voice was wavering and rather unconvincing, but she couldn't risk giving anything away. She couldn't say she was panicked that now Evan would know everything about her.

She couldn't say that Maddie's brother who she clearly thought the world of was someone who (Y/n) both loved and felt terrified of at the same time.

(Y/n) pushed her chair back and reached down to pick up her bag, but she stopped when Maddie took a sharp breath and her smile turned brighter when she looked down at (Y/n)'s stomach.

"Do you want some water?"

She was already up out of her seat before (Y/n) had chance to answer. (Y/n) slowly got up and followed Maddie over to the counter where the tea and coffee machines were and she tried to smile when Maddie handed her a bottled water from the fridge.

"How far along are you, five months?" She nodded her head towards (Y/n)'s stomach before she added "I used to be a nurse." But (Y/n) already knew that. She had heard Evan talk a lot about his big sister. She should have guessed when Maddie said her name that this might be the sister Evan was always going on about.

"Twenty-one weeks." (Y/n) looked down and danced her hand across her stomach but the touch made her shiver. All she could think about and imagine was the way Evan barely let go of her stomach whenever he came close the other day.

Finding out they were having a girl just made everything more real and made Evan unable to look away from her or let her go.

"Buck didn't mention it, congratulations. I bet your family and partner are thrilled."

"Overjoyed." (Y/n) mumbled quietly because it was the truth.

Her brother and nephew and Evan were overjoyed with the baby and knowing (Y/n) was having a little girl. But it wasn't going to last long when (Y/n) told their parents and when she eventually had to come clean to Eddie about Evan's involvement in all of this.

Finding her phone in her pocket, (Y/n) fished it out and clicked on Evan's contact.

*Tomorrow after your shift works for me. Let's talk.

***

"Do you want a drink?"

(Y/n) took a moment to steady her nerves and look around the apartment while she nodded. It was cosy.

The kitchen was what (Y/n) expected. Lots of plates and cups scattered about rather than placed in the cupboards. Notes, papers and what she guessed were recipes flowing from one of the top drawers for easy access. Evan had a scattered mind, he was always doing something and switching from one thing to the next.

He got sidetracked putting things away and it seemed easier leaving clean cups on the side so he could grab them in a hurry and have papers scattered around the apartment in case he needed them. She could see books fluttered about the apartment too which proved he couldn't stick to one story at a time. Too many train of thoughts and not enough tracks in his mind.

She leaned against the kitchen counter and tried to smile when Evan handed over a cup of iced tea.

She wanted to shiver away from his touch when his hand found her lower back between her hips, but she couldn't. (Y/n) stayed relaxed and kept her tight smile on her lips when Evan motioned towards the living room on the other side of the apartment.

"How was work?" Evan took a long sip of his drink and sank down into the sofa, smiling around the rim of his glass when (Y/n) sat next to him. He thought she would have gone to sit on the armchair across from him to keep some distance between them.

To feel her knees touching his and have their arms brushing together made him feel relaxed. And having her close enough to see and feel each breath she took was calming.

Sometimes when he wasn't around her, Evan felt like an addict getting desperate for his next fix. He couldn't describe the high he felt when he was around (Y/n) and he never wanted it to stop.

"Strange… being on the other end of the line is so weird but it's easy to stay calm, like it's not even real. Did Eddie tell you I was starting there?" (Y/n) tried to keep her tone calm and stay friendly.

The last thing (Y/n) wanted was to come here and start a fight or an argument with Evan. They were here to talk, they had to straighten things out and make this odd relationship morph into something they could both work with. Things had to change and they had to get their stories straight.

(Y/n) needed to know what Evan was planning and what he wanted to do. She needed to know what she could say to Eddie and how to tell him Evan was her ex. Without causing waves and ruining their friendship or causing mayhem for her brother at work.

"Yeah, he's happy you're sticking around."

"If I keep working there, you have to promise me you're not going to use Maddie as a way to check up on me."

"If you answer my calls then I won't have to-"

"No, no Evan please. I can't do this again, okay? I can't have you turning up at work or getting info on me from your sister. I'm not ignoring you, I have no way of doing that, you know I can't pretend you're not here. So let me have the call centre, let me do that."

She needed her work to be her own. It needed to be her place where she could work and escape and do what she needed to do. Without Evan checking in or asking Maddie how she was or what she was doing or what days she was working. He needed to leave her work alone and not use his sister as a bridge to get to (Y/n) and find out information about her.

(Y/n) couldn't ignore Evan, she had no way of doing that when they both lived so close by and their connections were now forever intertwined.

"Agreed. What's your plan then, hm? You were gonna have my baby and not even tell me, but now I know. What's the plan now?"

Evan scratched the back of his neck and leaned across to place his glass down on the coffee table. It hurt. His heart was blistered and scorched and crumbling into pieces, knowing that if Eddie lived in a different city, if (Y/n) decided to go home to her parents, if Evan didn't get his job back here in LA, he wouldn't know.

He wouldn't have a clue that he was going to be a dad. He would of found out eventually, through Eddie. By then, Evan could have missed the birth of hia daughter. He wouldn't be on the birth certificate, he would have missed out on so much and (Y/n) would have done this without him.

But he knew now.

He was here, he knew and he was involved. So they needed to work out these next steps together and sort this out.

"I don't know." She took a large swig of her drink, downing half the iced tea that Evan had added extra sugar into, knowing she had a sweet tooth. "I told Eddie I was here to get away from my ex, I don't know what he will say or do if I tell him that ex is you."

(Y/n) winced and sank her teeth down into her lower lip when Evan visibly tensed up and his jaw locked tight.

She didn't mean to hurt him, but this wasn't all her fault. Evan's actions were the reason they were in this mess. His tendancies and his controlling, anxious, dark side was why they were tangled up and corrupted.

Eddie wouldn't take it lightly if (Y/n) said his best friend was her frightening ex who wouldn't leave her alone. How could they move forward after this? How could Eddie work with Evan, knowing what he was like when he was around (Y/n)? How could he look past that? How could (Y/n) try and raise this baby with him?

"We need to tell him."

"Evan I can't-"

"What's the alternative? Baby I'm sorry to say it but he's gonna find out sooner or later. I want to be there when you go into labour, I want to be on the birth certificate and you think Eddie won't guess when that happens? Or when I come over to see her or want to look after her and you?"

Placing her glass down on the table, (Y/n) allowed herself to sink back into the sofa and slouch down. Her legs stretched out and bumped into the coffee table while her eyes closed and her hands moved to cradle her stomach.

This was exactly what she needed to sort out. (Y/n) couldn't keep having restless, sleepless nights worrying about this.

She was sick and tired of being scared. Scared of Evan. Scared of telling Eddie. Scared of getting Chris excited and getting his hopes up and then crushing them if Evan got even worse.

She couldn't live her life smothered by Evan. His texts, his calls, his demands, his obsessive nature. The unhealthy way he attached himself to her and never wanted to let her go, never wanted her to see her friends or family. Never wanted her out of his sight. He was going to be the same with their daughter. He was going to want her all the time, want to know where she is and what she's doing and keep her within his sights.

He was always going to fret that (Y/n) was going to run off with their daughter and take her from him.

"Then… then we have to work this out before we tell him." (Y/n) flopped her head to the right and looked across at Evan.

There was something so sweet in his sky blue eyes that looked like the purest ocean (Y/n) had ever seen. There was a loving, gentle look that made her feel like she was the only person worth looking at; the only person in his world. And when he smiled and leaned his head on his hand with his elbow resting o the back of the sofa, Evan looked so casual and serene like he was posing for a picture.

He had his other hand resting on his thigh and his knees drawn up on the sofa, nudging into her thigh. It was like they were playing a game or going out on a date rather than stuck in a tangled web of lies and obsession.

"If I can trust you and you don't, you don't get manic, then we can try and talk to Eddie and try do this together, somehow."

"Baby, you already know you can trust me. I wanna do this with you, properly."

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and closed her eyes when Evan leaned across the small distance between them. She thought he was going to kiss her, but he ducked down and tucked his face into her neck instead. She could feel his breaths tickling the side of her neck and his ruby red lips hovering over her pulse like he was deciding whether or not to bite down.

His arm curved across the top of her stomach, anchoring himself to her with his chest pressing down on her left arm and shoulder. And his leg hooked over hers, pinning his knee between her thighs like he was about to climb on top of her and pin her down.

She waited. Seconds ticked by but Evan didn't move. He didn't say anything. He stayed attached to her like that was where he belonged and all he did was breathe against her neck. He didn't bite down or kiss his way up or down her skin like he had done before.

"Evan, I- I left for a reason-"

"And you've already let me back in. You can't stay away from me either, so why bother?"

(Y/n) knew why to bother. She knew what the point was. Leaving Evan was to prove to herself that his actions weren't normal and to prove to Evan that he couldn't carry on the way he was and think it was okay.

But she had no energy to fight him off. She knew coming round here was a risk and she knew what Evan wanted.

(Y/n) wanted to try and sort this out and co-parent, but Evan wanted a relationship again. He wanted to carry on as before. If he could try and adapt, if he could curb his manic behaviour and at least try to calm down in this relationship, (Y/n) was willing to try.

She didn't have any other choice. Evan wasn't going to let her go. He wasn't going to let her get into another relationship and leave him behind. He wouldn't have her being with someone else and raise his daughter with another person. He wouldn't lose out on the family he had wanted for so long.

So why fight him? Why fight when she had walked away and he had found her without trying? This just proved she couldn't walk away from him and when a very big part of (Y/n) still loved Evan more than anyone else she'd ever been with, she couldn't leave now.

A sigh tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she closed her eyes again, letting Evan nudge her back until she was laid out on the sofa with him on top of her. She curved her arms around his neck and pressed her nose and lips down into his hair, breathing in his scent. She felt his right hand worm up her back until he was cupping the back of her neck while his left hand slipped beneath her shirt to rest on her stomach.

She let her eyes fall closed and breathed in his scent, listening to the sound of his heartbeat lulling along with hers. Giving in to the familiar, comforting feel of Evan laying beside her, cramped up on the sofa.

And when (Y/n) let her mind wander, she tried to pretend she was back home with Chrissy. Back when Evan had been the best thing in the world. Before he turned everything upside down.

***

Evan opened his eyes when he heard a quiet but familiar sound buzzing somewhere nearby.

He tilted his head to the right and cracked his neck back into place, wincing at the sting it sent down his spine and through his shoulders. He glanced his tired eyes around and let his lips form into a grin when he realised he was still at home, laid on the sofa.

He had his head tucked into (Y/n)'s neck, his back wedged up against the back of the sofa with (Y/n) laid up into his chest. And one leg was draped across her thighs with the other hanging off the side of the sofa. Evan stayed nuzzled into her skin, listening to her soft breaths and the feel of her hand resting at the nape of his neck.

This was how Evan had been praying to wake up ever since he came back home to LA. He had been biding his time, trying to find the right time to take leave from work and head back down to see (Y/n). He knew they needed space. But all Evan wanted was to feel her wrapped up in his arms and know she couldn't get over him like how he couldn't- and wouldn't- let himself get over her.

He smiled softly into her skin and kissed her neck before he heard that familiar buzzing sound again.

It was a phone.

His left arm felt numb and sluggish but he forced his hand to slide out beneath (Y/n)'s shirt and leave her stomach he had been cradling in his sleep. He trailed his hand down (Y/n)'s hip and curved his fingers into her side pocket. The good thing about maternity clothes was the pockets.

Evan was careful when he prized her phone out of her pocket so it wouldn't wake her and he could see why it was going off.

Eddie was calling.

Evan lifted his eyes up to (Y/n)'s face. Her eyes were closed, her lips were lump and lightly parted, but her breaths were slow and even. She was still asleep. She always slept better when Evan was with her and he had always known that.

Evan let his head slump back down onto (Y/n)'s chest and he nudged her collar where it had started to slide off her shoulder. It was a little too big and baggy for her but it allowed Evan a perfect view of the top of her cleavage. He delicately peppered kisses against her chest while he clicked the side button on her phone to decline the call.

It was getting late. Eddie was a worrier, no matter what he tried to tell people. They all knew he panicked.

Swiping across her phone, Evan tried his luck with her old password and grinned, grazing his teeth against her skin when it worked.

He scrolled through to Eddie's messages, keeping his face tucked up into (Y/n)'s skin as he began typing. Once the message was done and sent, Evan slid her phone into his back pocket and closed his eyes again, tightening his arms around her until it felt like they were going to merge into one person.

*Hey, I'm with Maddie from work, don't know what time I'll be back. I'm fine, I'll see you later. XX

Tilting his head down, Evan nudged his chin against the collar of (Y/n)'s shirt and nudged it down to reveal more of her cleavage to his eyes. His nose brushed against her skin as he started peppering kisses across her chest, working his way down.

But he stopped abruptly when he head a knock at the door, followed by a key turning in the lock.

The only people with a key were Maddie because she was round so often, and Bobby in case of emergencies.

A groan burned at the back of his throat but he stayed quiet and pushed his weight onto his hands either side of (Y/n)'s shoulders. He pushed up and manoeuvred over her, leaning down to kiss her stomach and straighten out her shirt before he stretched and jogged towards the door.

"Hey, you would not believe the kind of calls we got at work today, some of them were, you know, so-" Maddie bustled into the apartment, slugging her bag down on the kitchen side as she advanced towards the fridge.

A smile played on her lips but when she glanced over her shoulder, she abruptly stopped talking when she looked at her brother. Evan had his brows arched and his finger pressed to his lips to try and silence her. She pursed her lips and paused, halfway to grabbing the bottle of wine she had put in Evan's fridge last week for when she came round to have a drink with him.

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" She lowered her tone and looked across to see what Evan was now pointing at in the living room.

She stepped away from the fridge and took a few cautious steps towards her brother. But when she leaned around him and looked at the sofa, her eyes narrowed and she looked up at him with perplexion in her eyes.

"That's (Y/n), Eddie's sister. What's she doing here?"

Evan folded his arms across his his chest and let his eyes linger on (Y/n) for a few more seconds before he finally dragged his eyes away to look down at Maddie.

"We're friends, I've known her for a while." When he dragged his fingers across his jaw and smiled in that all-knowing way, he watched his sister's jaw drop and her shoulders tensed.

She moved back towards the kitchen, dragging Evan with her so they could talk without the risk of waking (Y/n). Maddie leaned her hips back against the counter and folded her arms across her chest as she stared up at her brother in that motherly way that always got him to talk and open up whether he wanted to or not.

"Just friends? I know that look in your eyes, Buck. What's going on?" She waited impatiently for an answer but Evan just reached behind him to lean against the sink and smiled.

If Maddie figured out what was going on here, then she would get and feel much closer to (Y/n). They would become friends, Maddie would become as much of a sister to (Y/n) as she was to Evan. She would take (Y/n) under her wing and keep an eye on her at work for Evan.

He wanted the pair of them to get along, he wanted them to be close because they were going to be family now. And with Maddie on his side and in his corner, things would change. (Y/n) would realise that this is what they all wanted and needed. She could be with Evan, here in LA. She could work with his sister and get to know his team that her brother was already a part of.

Evan could have the family he wanted and so desperately needed. He could have a partner and a child and create a family at work with the people he loved. Everything that everyone else had, Evan was finally going to get. He would be like the rest of the team.

He would have what he always dreamed of and he would create the family he wanted. (Y/n) was here. She was giving him that family. She was the girl of his dreams and now they were having a daughter.

"Buck, are you involved with her?" Maddie could feel her nerves bleeding through into her voice.

She had talked to (Y/n) at work yesterday, they seemed to get along. But (Y/n) didn't say anything about being good friends with Evan. And she hadn't mentioned anything about having a partner and Maddie didn't want to ask in case it was a sore subject or not something she wanted to divulge on their first day together.

"I guess you could say that. Listen, don't tell anyone, please? Eddie doesn't know yet, and (Y/n) doesn't want to complicate things at work."

"Alright, but you are telling me everything later, got it?" Maddie pointed her finger at her brother but her smile and the way she sighed gave away that she wasn't going to tell anyone.

She would keep her lips sealed and wait for Evan to give her the gossip later and fill her in on what was going on.

If Evan told her first, (Y/n) wouldn't have chance. She wouldn't be able to spin the same story to Maddie that she had to Eddie. She wouldn't be able to influence Evan's sister and turn her against him like she had probably done to Eddie when he finds out Evan was the baby's father. Evan needed to control this situation and set everything right because this is the family he wanted, the one he needed and nothing was going to ruin this for them.

This is what they wanted. What Evan wanted.

[marksbear]

Can you write a lip Gallagher fic where reader takes his anal virginity for the first time and lip is nervous but then ends up cock dumb

I love lip so muchhhh! ❤️ I’ll be glad to write this! This will take place when Lips still in school so like S1 and 2.

Warnings! SMUT, Virgin Lip, first time, soft to rough, makeout, detailed kisses, grinding and humping.

LIP GALLAGHER X TOP MALE READER

Y/n and Lip walked around in the sidewalks of south side Chicago. They were walking around from school. The two young reckless boyfriends were doing illegal shit while on their walk. Like smashing windows and smoking.

“We should grab something eat yeah?” Y/n suggests while taking Lips wrist dragging him to follow. Lip loved that about Y/n. How he acted so dominant and controlling but reality he’s just a gentle man.

“Sure whatever.” Lip answers walking with his boyfriend.

“Is your family home?” Y/n asks looking ever his shoulder as he asks. “Nah. There at some stupid place with Sheila.” Lip answers not thinking much of it.

“Cool…Do you know when they’re gonna be back?” Y/n asks while looking for a place that looks good for the both of them can eat at.

“Not until like the middle of the night. But Ian’s staying at Mandy’s for something I think while Carl is at a sleepover.” Lip responds.

“Good. So you’ll have your own room today?”

“Yes babe! Why do you keep asking these stupid questions!?” Lip blurts out.

Y/n stops suddenly looking at Lip with a smirk. “Well because I plan on fucking you today. If your okay with that?” Y/n says nonchalantly as Lip almost choked in surprise. “Wa-wait huh?!?”

“I mean even you said that we should take our relationship to the next level. We already done all the bases now we just have to go home base.” Y/n says with a smile.

“The is that supposed to mean!” Lip knew what it meant but he just had to hear it.

“We’re gonna have sex. And I’ll be the one who’s doing the fucking.” Y/n answers with a quick kiss one the head. “I’ve never done it before.” Lip breathes out as he mentally panics.

“That’s okay. That just means I’m taking your virginity. Don’t worry I’ll be gentle.” Y/n says before continuing walking.

As Lip follows Y/n quickly wonder his mind begins to wonder. Y/n was right Lip did say those exact words. And it’s true they have done every sexual act between them not sex though. Lip couldn’t believe it. Lip was nervous and a little terrified thinking about what’s going to happen.

“What if I’m bad at this. What if it’s to big to fit it…” Lip thinks to himself as he think and think.

“We should eat here. Then after we’re done we can go to your house.” Y/n says opening the restaurant door for Lip gesturing him inside.

TIMESKIP

As the couple walks to the Gallagher house Lip heart pounds against his chest feeling more and more nervous.

Lip could see his house in the distance as he swallowed the breath he didn't even know that he was holding. As the two held hands they walked to the house with Y/n opening the door for him.

"For once this place is empty." Y/n says playfully as he takes off his own jacket throwing it onto the couch with Lip doing the same. "You've been very on edge y'know." Y/n says cupping Lip's jaw with his hand.

"Don't worry doll, i'll take care of you." Y/n whispers seductively before pulling Lip forward into a kiss. Lip quickly melts into the kiss as he wraps his arms around Y/n's shoulders. Y/n places his hands onto both sides of Lip's hips holding him tight.

Their tongues move against each other exploring the others mouth with such fierce passion. Lip lets out quiet moans into Y/n's mouth.

For the need of air Lip pulls away looking up at Y/n in a trance. Lip didn't even realize that his body was grinding against Y/n's. As both boys collect their breath they move around the dark living room moving into the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Are we really gonna fuck in a bunk bed?" Lip says hiding the full on nervousness in his voice. Y/n only lets out a chuckle before walking inside the room.

"This is our first time together. It has to be somewhat comfortable." Y/n teases back playfully before turning back around to Lip. Lip closes the distance between them kissing Y/n deeply once more. Y/n moves his hands down on Lip's hips lifting him up from the ground. Y/n presses Lip against the nearby wall and pulls onto Lip's clothes signalling him to take them off. Lip pulls away from the makeout as he fumbles around with his shirt taking it off alongside his pants and boxers.

Lip was naked leaning against the wall as Y/n and him makeout.

"Climb up on the bed..." Y/n mumbles against his lips signalling him to get on the bunk bed. Lip pulls his body away before quickly getting on top of the bunk with Y/n following behind him.

While Y/n takes off his own clothes Lip watches him with his heart beating against his chest.

After Y/n was done Y/n crawled closer to Lip giving him one quick gentle kiss before towering over him. Lip was under Y/n as they shared kiss back and forth.

As Lip was distracted Y/n used one of his free hands to run up Lip's thighs going further and further until he finds Lip's virgin hole.

A breath hitches in Lip's throat feeling something pierce inside him.

"F-fuck! O--ohhh god!~" Lip gasps out as his hands grab onto Y/n's shoulders in surprise. Y/n's finger moves deeper inside Lip causing hi to breath out cuss words and complaints.

Y/n moves his finger side to side stretching him out. Lip buries his head to the crook of Y/n's neck as soft moans escape. Y/n begins to finger Lip faster, but still gentle. Y/n's finger curled and grazed into his prostate causing Lip to scream and moan out in pleasure. "I'm going to add another finger alright doll?" Y/n warns before slipping another finger inside.

This time Y/n curled both his fingers inside him reaching inside him deeper.

After a while when Y/n decided Lip was ready he slowly pulled his fingers out gently. Lip let out a quiet whine feeling the emptiness.

Y/n laid Lip down on his back before crawling in between his legs. Lip had his legs spread open wide as he felt the tip of Y/n's cock grind against his hole.

"It's gonna hurt for a while, but then it will go away alright." Y/n says giving Lip a kiss to distract him. With grinding his cock against Lip's hole for a little longer he slowly moves inside him. Lip groans inside Y/n's mouth from discomfort.

Y/n held onto the bed as he slowly entered inside Lip's tight hole.

"Fu-fuck!~ yo- your~ Gah!~" Lip moans out pathetically couldn't even finish his sentence properly. Only inside half way inside Y/n gave Lip a minute to relax and breath. Lip eyes began to water as his body relaxed into Y/n's cock. Once Lip was less tense and uncomfortable Y/n went back to moving slowly thrusting his cock back and forth.

Y/n only fucked Lip with half his cock pulling out until the tip was inside then to thrust forward back to halfway. Y/n rocked his hips back and forth in rhythm. Lip's walls tightened around Y/n's cock as loud moans fell from his lips.

Suddenly catching Lip way off guard Y/n thrust his cock fully inside Lip. Y/n's cock stretched Lip's virgin hole in half. Lip let out a gasp for air from the sudden length inside him. Lip's own cock ached and twitched with precum leaking from the silt.

Y/n began to thrust back and forth cock going deeper and deeper inside him.

Y/n's hips rocked in and out slowly as his thrust began to pick up the pace. Lip held onto the sheets under him as Y/n moved faster.

Eyes rolling back to his head slowly Lip's mouth hung open as long strained moans rolled out. The Gallagher legs quivered and trembled. Y/n's cock drilled deep inside Lip as Lip was completely dazed.

Y/n pulled out suddenly causing Lip to come back to reality.

"Wh--wha?~ Why'd you pull out?! Please get back inside!~" Lip moans out in confusion as he wiggles his ass to Y/n. Y/n only let out a chuckle before moving back inside Lip. Once the tip was back inside Y/n thrusted his entire length inside Lip. Lip let out a loud moan as Y/n fucked him like he hated him.

Y/n's thrust was no longer sweet and gentle and Lip loved it more than anything.

Lip through his head back into his pillow as Y/n drilled his cock deep inside him. Y/n's cock abused and stretched his hole. Loud wet skin slapping against each other filled the room.

At that point Lip moved his hips down and up matching the speed of Y/n's thrust.

Y/n thrust was deep and hard as he felt his cock twitch inside Lip's hole. Y/n's thrust became sloppier and faster feeling his orgasm nearing. The same thing with Lip he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Y/n moved his hands on Lip's waist hoisting up him in his lap.

Lip began to ride Y/n bouncing on his cock like there's no tomorrow. Lip held onto Y/n's shoulders to stabilize himself as he moved up and down onto Y/n's cock.

With a few more thrust Y/n came deep inside Lip coating his walls white with his hot load. From the sudden feeling inside him Lip shot his load right after his cock shooting his cum landing on Y/n's chest and some landing on himself. Lip bounced on Y/n's cock riding out his orgasm.

Once they both were out of their highs they held onto each other tightly. Both of their bodies relaxed into each others own.

"Hey babe..." Lip breathes out raising his head up from Y/n's shoulder. Y/n let out a hum signalling him that he's listening.

"I want you to fuck me again. And this time don't fucking stop." Lip says with a smirk as he moves back up on Y/n’s cock.

THE END

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

I was 19, wearing the only flattering dress I had. It was all black, a rough but not scratchy fabric, flared at the waist. The bust looked pretty good on me. I bought it from a used clothes store about two months after I started publicly crossdressing when I was 16. At 17, I wore it to my grandfather’s funeral, and seven months later to my friend Liam’s funeral. That night was a different sort of occasion.

Around 11:30 I parked my car at a Comfort Inn just off the highway, about 25 minutes from my suburban apartment and sat for a few moments, finishing my cigarette, putting it out on the side of my car. I always took a moment after parking to sit with myself before going to meet someone. I was nervous, not fearful, though maybe a smarter person would have been, just as a measure of caution.

It wasn’t my first time werking, but I was still pretty green, I had only been in the real-deal-pay-to-play game for a couple months, mostly doing blow and gos before that. Full service felt like hot girl shit, it was different from the eyes-closed blowjobs I had been giving since I was 15. I was still a sexual commodity, but a sexual commodity they were willing to get a motel room for and drop more than $20 on, so I actually bothered to play dress up--and shower--for it.

I walked into the building, passed the reception desk, not paying them any mind, knowing they’d see me leave in about an hour and know exactly what I was there to do. After a trek through a few dimly lit hallways, I found the room he told me he was in and I knocked. The knocking on the door is always the scariest moment of a smooth and safe job. I always envision some vacationing mother coming to the door, distraught at having to see a fat tgirl dressed up like a whore and telling me “No, we didn’t order a prostitute, you should try 1106, this is 1160.”

Luckily, for both me and this imagined middle aged woman, I got the right room. The john opened up the door and let me in. I saw the money already laid out onto the table, quickly counted it, and put it into my purse, which I set down. He sauntered over and wrapped his arms around me. He was a head and a half taller than I was and wasted no time in getting physical. After only a couple of minutes, I was laying on my back on the bed, the john kissing my legs, up to my crotch. This was a “I want to do whatever makes you feel good” john, which are actually much harder to work for than the “shut up and suck my dick, faggot” johns. I can suck a dick, but I can’t really act, though I ended up seeing this man a couple more times over the next year, so either I can act well enough or I just have a monopoly on fat non-passing tranny prostitutes in the west suburbs of Chicago.

There’s a certain way this kind of john carries himself while having sex: he moves as if trying to be seductive and sexy, as if to pretend he won me with wit and attractiveness rather than the promise of a small wad of twenties. This sort of john’s ultimate fantasy is to have sexually pleased someone–anyone!--else, a thing they are so unable to do that they have to pay a teenager to pretend that they give great head. This john did these soft, light touches, that I had to fight very hard against bursting into laughter from. The only way I can describe the head he gave is that noise that Anthony Hopkins makes in Silence of the Lambs. after he says “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.” Fththththth.

About fifteen minutes into his lease on my body, he pulled away from me and said, “Hey baby, would you mind if I did a line off you?”

I sincerely thought about it for a moment, as it was clear he was genuinely asking. I wanted the anecdote and said yes.

He walked over to his jacket and grabbed a smallish baggie of coke and came back over to the bed, He grabbed a pinch, deposited it in a line on my left breast, and made another attempt at that seductive movement, his head bobbing and swaying for a few moments before he swooped down like a plane finally landing after circling the runway, opening his mouth as he did, and licking the line up with his tongue.

Had I not been being paid for my composure, I would have burst into laughter, the man might as well have just rubbed lidocaine on his gums. Yet again, a straight face was kept, and we got back to business.

Ten to fifteen minutes after his first line, I was laying on my stomach and he was kissing my ass and legs. Again, he asked me if he could do another line, and again, I said yes.

It is my genuinely held belief that should I, in the state of health I find myself in, ever do cocaine my heart will explode and my eyeballs will pop out of my head and dangle as in cartoons. However, simply through being a rational, reasonable human being, if I were to make the decision to both do coke, and do it off of someone’s ass, I would have a clear path on how I would accomplish that task–snort a horizontally placed line off of a cheek. My very own Mr. Lecter, however, is an outside the box thinker.

I felt a hand spread my asscheeks apart. He let out an excited sigh. His tongue landed between my cheeks, a full inch behind my asshole. It drew a line up, passed my tailbone, and into the Fat Bitch Mini Crack. After the briefest layover, his tongue took flight once more, seats now filled with coke and ass lint.

[themultifandomgal]

Jay Halstead- Work Husband Pt1

I walk into the break room to grab myself a coffee. Jay, my partner is already in there making two drinks

"Good morning" I greet him

"Morning" he hands me a cup after he pours the hot water in

"Thanks" I give him a smile

"Your very welcome. Actually I erm wanted to speak to you"

"What's up?" I ask frowning but before Jay can talk to me Adam pops his head in to the break room letting us know that Voight wanted to speak to us. He asks me and Jay to talk to a source to find out some information about our perp.

Jay and I get in the car, me behind the steering wheel. At first it's quiet. Then jay breaks the silence

"I think it's time we can be honest with each other. Wouldn't you agree?" This makes me feel a little nervous, but I try to hide it

"Depends"

"Ok I'm just going to say it"

"Go on then"

"You driving all the time? I'm not down with that"

"Tough. I drive"

"I've been on the job longer" I see Jay now looking at me through my peripheral vision. I glance at him before looking back at the road

"Well I've been in this unit longer"

"Ok honestly? I feel like a house husband" I chuckle at this then put on a straight face and glance at Jay

"I'd say sorry..." I stop the car and take my belt off and now give Jay my full attention "but I was told not to lie. Now let's go" I open up my door and both Jay and I start to walk to the shop when a guy whistles at me

"Shake it baby" I raise a brow at him then shake my head

"Jay" I nod my head towards the shop

"Watch yourself" Jay warns

"Yes sir officer sir" the guy says back to

"Does that ever catch girls attention?"

"Jay it's fine. Leave it" I open up the door to the shop "hi Chicago PD we would like to ask you a few questions" I say showing my badge

"Sure"

"A pay-as-you-go phone was purchased from your store in the last 24 hours" Jay starts as I take out the phone number from my pocket

"We're looking for who bought it"

"Yeah, a Juan Garcia. Yesterday. Paid cash"

"Any other information you can provide us?" I ask

"No, we're not responsible for  background checks"

"True, but it is a fairly common name. You know, there's not a lot we can do with that" I give the store clerk a sweet smile

"You don't tell me how to do my job. I don't tell you how to do yours" the guy hands the number back to me as I continue to smile

"You're Glen Pearson, right? The owner of this place?"

"That's right"

"You know, it looks like there's a Glen Pearson with deceptive practice and fraud charge"

"Huh" I cross my arms looking at Jay

"Yeah for selling stolen merchandise

out of Gary, Indiana" Jay shows me a fake police report made to just scare the guy "That's a 25,000 dollar expeditable must-hold warrant"

"Hmm. What do you think Halstead? Height, weight match. Eye color, too"

"Yeah" he nods his head "hey I've got an idea. Why don't we throw some bracelets on him, we'll take him down to the station, run his prints, and then we can be sure" Jay gives me a little nudge

"I got a nanny cam up here. I can pull some footage. Get a picture of the guy who did it.

It's best I can do"

"Oh that's great" Jay and I both smile "oh and I'll have some gum"

We leave the store after getting a photo. I place a piece of gum in my mouth

"I knew that would work"

"Now we just gotta figure out who this idiot is" I pass the photo over to Jay as the same guy we passed earlier throws a bottle

"Why don't you bring that ass over to place sometime girl. I'll let you in"

"Hey" I say to Jay who looks pissed "it's fine. Let's go" Jay takes off his holster and badge, handing them over to me "ok. Yeah" I nod my head. Jay and the guy have a little tiff earning an eye roll from me "oh my hero" I give Jay his things back "and by the way I'm still driving" I run over to the drivers side of the car before driving us back to the precinct to talk over what we have found out.

[stoned-writer]

New Kid - Jay Halstead

summary: you're new to the unit and catch the eye of a certain handsome detective

warnings: maybe language?

word count: 624

a/n: i'm still very new to the chicago one universe, this is super short and rushed, not proofread and honestly pretty bad but i'm working on some more !

likes & reblogs appreciated !

Detective Y/N Y/L/N, Intelligence CPD 

It was your first day with the Intelligence crew and to say you were nervous would be an understatement. They were a well established family already and to be the new kid on the block made you feel like you had to prove yourself worthy of working with them. 

As you walked into the district you said a quick hello to Trudy who shot you a faint “good luck” under her breath as you started up the stairs to the gate. You sighed and gave yourself a quick “you got this” to yourself as you scanned your fingerprints and headed up the stairs to where the rest of the unit was sure to be waiting. 

Voight was the first person you saw, you felt slightly at ease being as he was the reason you were here in the first place. He heard you coming and turned to greet you, “there she is, how ya doin kid?” he said as he pulled you into a side hug, you chuckled “ready to get started Sarge.” 

He brought you over to where the rest of the crew was waiting to see who the new face in the unit was. 

“Everyone, this is Detective Y/L/N and she’ll be joining us for the foreseeable future, unless you knuckleheads run her outta here” Voight says scoffing lightly, everyone goes around the room introducing themselves when they reach the last person, a ridiculously handsome man with piercing green eyes stands and comes forward, “I’m Jay Halstead.” 

Before anyone could say anything else a call came in about a new case. Voight puts you and Halstead together to watch a suspect, the two of you lock eyes briefly before he rolls his eyes a bit with a smirk, “lets go newbie” you scoff to yourself and mutter “this should be fun.”

As he drove you both made trivial small talk getting to know each other, you noticed very quickly that he was a little bit of a flirt which you knew would be trouble. The two of you sat at your post continuing to talk as things were moving very slow with your suspect. 

A few hours go by before Jay decides to ask the big question with a sly smirk on his face, “so Y/L/N you got a boyfriend?” You pause for a minute and throw him a smirk yourself and laugh, “right to the point with the hard hitting questions I see Halstead, but no I am currently unattached” he gives you a nod and you hear him mutter “good to know.”

After sitting on the supposed suspects location with no activity Voight called you both back to the district for the unit to call it a night and to start fresh in the morning with clear heads. When you arrived back at the 21st  the gang invited you out to Molly’s to celebrate your first day with them albeit a uneventful one, you agreed. 

When you all arrived at the bar, Kim immediately passed a drink to you with a laugh welcoming you to the team. You took a seat next to Jay of course. 

Jay turned towards you and slung his arm over the back of your chair, instantly making you flustered, “I know we just met and all but I was wondering if maybe I could take you out sometime newbie” he says with a dorky smile on his face. You turn and lean into him slightly and respond with a giggle as you sip your beer “real smooth Halstead” “Is that a yes?” he counters, you throw your head back and look in his green eyes “yes it is detective.”

fin.

[magicalbuttertarts]

AEW Masterlist

Check Yes or No

Hook x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: none. Just some major fluff

Requested by anonymous. Hope you like it.

From my previous account plentyoffandoms.

WC: 482

©️ magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

WC: 1055

I am so nervous.

Why am I nervous?

I mean, we have been together for such a long time, and I knew I loved her before we even got together.

I felt a hand clasp my shoulder, making me jump a little, but I could tell by the chuckle, it was my Dad.

"You seem nervous, Tyler." He teased.

"What if she decides she doesn't want to be with me. That this has all been a huge mistake, and." I started to spew out the thoughts I have been having since I woke up this morning.

"Tyler, that girl loves you, and you love her. You have ever since the third grade."

The first memory I ever had of her came rushing back to me.

It was the first day of school, and they just combined the two elementary. I was running around on the playground with my friends, and I heard this laugh.

I turned my head, and it was like staring at an angel. I actually ran into the goalpost. I was knocked out for a few moments, and I woke up to her staring down at me, with a worried look on her face.

I fell in love, and I didn't even know it at the time.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and I pulled it out of the inside pocket of my jacket.

I saw that it was from her. "I love you, baby." Short and simple, and filled with so much emotion behind it.

This brought me back to when I first asked her out.

It was the first dance of grade 8, and for the first time, my friends and I were not going as a group, but asking people to do the dance.

Every single time I tried to ask her out, I would get tongue tied and turn around, walking so fast that she would be calling my name.

It was the day before the dance, and we were in history class.

I spent that class trying to come up with to ask her, but I knew I would just chicken out.

So I grabbed a spare piece of paper and wrote, 'Will you go to the dance with me? - Tyler.' With two boxes, one for yes, and one for no.

I folded it up and tossed it onto her desk. I held my breath as she opened it. She looked over her shoulder at me and then back at the note.

She grabbed her pen and did a checkmark, and folded it back up. She waited for our teacher to turn around, and she handed me the note.

I opened the note and couldn't stop the smile from my face as she checked yes.

That was the first of many dances for us.

We went through high school together. She was there for all my lacrosse and wrestling events, and I was there for her.

We voted the couple to most likely be married. We were voted Prom King and Queen.

We didn't go to the same college, but we talked every day and saw each other whenever we could.

Then, when I decided to become a wrestler, she was there, supporting me no matter what.

When I was having doubts about following my dream, and I was about to have my first wrestling match on TV, I was pacing back and forth in my hotel room.

I kept questioning all of this when she came up behind me, wrapping her arms around me, and I instantly calmed.

"You, Tyler Senerchia, are going to be wonderful. Everyone loves Hook and has been waiting for this moment."

I started to doubt myself once more. I turned around to face her. "No buts, Tyler. Everyone will be cheering for you and only you." I kissed her, putting all my heart into it.

And, of course, she was right. She always has been. She was and is still my number fan, and I am hers.

To travel with me, she started to write. She has a very popular travel blog, but with our wrestling friends and their favourite spots to shop and eat.

During one of those times, she was out for her research with Skye in Chicago, I picked up the antique engagement ring from my grandmother.

I was waiting for the right moment, but just like the 8th grade dance all over again, so I did what I did then.

I wrote her a note.

'Will you marry me?' and two boxes labelled yes or no.

Nothing over the top, and I knew this would be perfect for us.

I left the engagement ring box on the bed, and the note on top of it. I heard her call my name, as she walked into our room, me hiding in the bathroom.

She called my name, but she trailed off as she grabbed the note. I heard her gasp as she read it.

By this point, I was behind her on my knee, holding a bouquet of her favourite flowers.

I cleared my throat, and she turned around with the box and the note in her hands.

"Tyler,"

"Babygirl, I just need to know."

"Yes, a thousand times, yes."

I grabbed the box from her hand and opened it as quickly as possible to put the ring on her finger.

She cupped my face as I started to stand and kissed me.

We broke apart as we hugged on another.

"You didn't check a box."

"Tyler!" She said as she slapped my chest playfully.

I shook my head to clear it from all the memories I am having, and I looked at my friends and family as the music started.

Everyone stood and turned to look at my beautiful bride, stunned at how gorgeous she looked. This is my first time seeing her in her dress, and it all became too much.

I could feel tears start fall.

She gave me a concerned look, but I just mouthed I am okay.

She smiled at me and blew me a kiss.

"Her mother and I do."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Tyler."

"Now that we have that out of the way, let's get you two married."

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell

[latibvles]

WHEN DOES A WAR END?

A collection of stories surrounding an all-female bomber crew, primarily derived from @hboww2rewatch ’s weekly prompt list + individual prompt requests. a special thanks to @basilone for letting me take inspiration from their masterpost for their own stories: the earth is run by mothers.

[Read all the works in chronological order on Archive of Our Own]

And click the Read More to meet the crew.

THE MAIN PROMPTS

Friends ( March, 1943 )

Crews ( May, 1943 )

Kinship ( May, 1943 )

Recuperation ( June, 1943 )

Injured ( October, 1943 )

Reunion ( October, 1943 )

Typewriter ( October, 1943 )

Wedding ( August, 1946 )

Bonding ( February, 1943 )

Dress Uniform ( December, 1942 )

Vivian “Viv” Savorre | Pilot, 26, Detroit, MI

Responds primarily to Viv — magazines love her, as do most reporters. Has an easy smile and a certain allure that leads people to believe that she was maybe a socialite or some type of high society girl before she joined the Army. Gives very little of herself, somehow manages to make you feel like her best friend regardless. Can throw a mean punch when prompted.

Wilhelmina “Willie” Neumann | Co-Pilot, 25, Stroudsburg, PA

Never introduces herself as anything but Willie. The “mouse” living in the bomber, a woman of very few words. Has good eyes and is very diligent about writing letters home to mom. Only ever speaks when she has something to say, a bit cold if you don’t know her well enough.

Inez Eckley | Navigator, 21, Nashville, TN

Too humble to function. Refuses to admit that she is in fact near-sighted. Her brother’s a minor league baseball player (do not ask her about it) and her mom just had another kid. First in her family to get a college degree — does not brag about this.

Fern Carmine | Radio Operator, 21, Racine, WI

Silver-spoon baby, part-time swindler. Will occasionally save the 100th from Bucky’s impromptu performances with a song of her own — unless they duet, which is tolerable. Don’t play her in darts unless you plan to lose. Loves to dance and loves when she can get the girls dancing with her.

Lena Connolly | Flight Engineer, 23, The Bronx, NY

Accepting any and all stupid nicknames derived from the fact that she is very Irish. Prides herself on being a fixer and being damn good at it. Strongly opinionated. Pretty much down for anything. Good at getting people out of trouble before the fists start flying.

Josephine “Jo” Alden | Tail Gunner, 24, Boston, MA

Also responds to Josie, Josie-Posie, and whatever other rhymes can be surmised from that. The Mom Friend. Suffers from middle kid syndrome and lived to tell the tale. Carries around a library in her footlocker and will hold your hair back when you throw up (after a mission or after a night at the bar).

Harriet “Harrie” Morgan | Ball Turret Gunner, 22, Montgomery, AL

A quintessential ray of pure sunshine. Loves a good sweet treat and lacks a knack for picking up lot of social cues. Very loud, very optimistic, undeniably and admirably fearless. Will scrunch her nose if you call her Harriet.

Carrie Hughes | Waist Gunner, 18, Denver, CO

Baby of the group. Nervous energy personified. A little bit naive and maybe not the bravest of the bunch but she’s getting there. Likes feeling pretty and getting compliments from the people she looks up to. Still finding her own bite.

Lorraine Ivanova | Waist Gunner, 20, Brooklyn, NY

Likes winning and being number one. Does not indulge in the antics unless hard-pressed to do so. Gonna get shit done no matter the cost. Doesn’t talk about herself all that much, makes it hard to know her.

June Cielinski | Bombadier, 21, Chicago, IL

Angry more often than not. Throws a mean punch. Doesn’t look like she can in fact throw that mean punch. Has two older brothers and it shows. Mouthy, opinionated, and downright degrading when you get on her bad side. An overly protective girls’ girl first and foremost.

[cybertroniannugget]

What if… Sam had a sibling who is very chaotic!!!! And they survive through out the Bayverse movies and when they meet Hound, Crosshairs and Drift, how would those 3 react to the crazy lil human?!? ;-;

(Could you possibly add Optimus Prime and Bumblebee!?)

Okay this is the first ever request I answer, kinda nervous tbh.

Hope you like it, and thanks for requesting^^

It's called Haiku...

Also, I don't know what pictures to add lmao

About this fic: sfw, gn reader, takes place in aoe

901 words

Sitting in the passenger's seat, squished next to Shane, you look out the window.

Sure, it was uncomfortable, but there were only 3 seats for the 4 of you.

You didn't say anything though, after they had just lost their friend, complaining would be of no use.

So you watch the wide desert landscape going by.

A white truck drove by on the other side of the road, but you didn't pay that much attention to it.

That's when the truck you four were in started rumbling. At first you didn't know what was going on, but when the seats shifted back roughly, the worn down leather replaced by more comfortable fabric seats you kind of got an idea.

"A man of taste I see. Western Stars are pretty nice.", you complimented, after seeing the symbol on the steering wheel, before the autobot logo took its place.

You opened the window to take a look at the Prime's new altmode.

Red flames across the blue paintjob, and everything was just so shiny.

"I must say, you looking good Prime!", you laugh, sticking your head back in.

"It was awesome but it was insane!", you heard Shane yell out excitedly.

The Prime's deep voice echoed over the radio, calling for his Autobots.

"I wonder If I'll see Bumblebee again. I missed that guy."

"Bumblebee?", Cade asked.

"Yeah, he's an Autobot don't worry. He's no giant insect, if that's what you thought about."

The man just raised an eyebrow at you, making Tessa chuckle in amusement.

After a few more minutes of driving you all got out of the truck, after Optimus opened the doors for you.

"Your dad is nice, but he needs to relax a lil...", you whisper to Tessa.

"He sure does, but he's trying his best."

"Never doubted that, don't worry.", you add, nudging her arm gently.

Optimus transformed, being greeted by his bots.

"Mr. free leader of the galaxy. I knew you'd make it. I never doubted it."

"Just who are these guys...", you mumble, looking around.

The green one with what looks like a cape suddenly turned to point his guns at you.

"Oh okay, that one feels like killin today...", you say, raising you arms sarcastically.

When the biggest one started lifting his guns was when you started sweating though.

But having fate on your side, like always, Optimus stopped them.

"Thanks Prime, I thought I was done for this time."

"🎶...Survivor! 🎶", Bee's Radio echoed.

"What's he mean by that now?", Hound asked, adjusting his cigar.

"We go way back. I saw Megatron so many times already. He nearly killed me twice but meh, still alive and kicking"

"Wait, aren't you that human from the fight in-?", Drift turned to ask.

"Chicago? Yeah, I've been there. Threw a brick at Megs myself.", you interrupted, proud of your past actions, arms crossed before your chest. "I've been there since the beginning. When it was just about a pair of glasses from my crazy great grandfather."

"They have fought with us. They're the only human I know I can trust."

"Rude...", Shane mumbled under his breath.

"I mean, how'd a squishy survive all that?!", Hound asked into the round of Cybertronians and humans

"Who you callin squishy?! I'm not the big one here."

"Pff, that's just armor. I'm as fast as a horse!"

"Well first of, it's as healthy as a horse. And also, it's none of your damn business how I survived all the shit I've been through. Because honestly, I don't even know myself. Maybe I'm just lucky"

You shrug, looking up at Optimus, who's serious demeanor made your heart sink.

He's always been serious yes, but a kind soul. Always open for questions.

Now he's just, well... dark.

"Well, but I'm sure as hell gonna survive this, so when we startin?!"

"Enthusiasm, I like it.", Crosshairs mentioned, spinning a gun in his servo, before tucking in back into his belt.

"🎶Where have youuuu been?!🎶", Bumblebee sang over the radio.

"Oooh, Rihanna, you got some mad taste Bee!"

Sticking your hands into the pockets of your worn down jeans, you look up at the yellow and black bot, who's optics were fixed on you.

"Well, after Chicago I needed a new place to stay. So I applied to work in a different hospital. And it led me to Austin, Texas."

You laugh

"In the good ol' south", you say, mocking the southern accent.

"I think I like that one", Hound says, leaning back against a rock wall.

"They have what it takes, like sunset colors on blue,

strength guts and virtue.", Drift added.

"If this is another hiku I swear Imma blow you to shreds...", Crosshairs murmured, turning to walk away.

"It's called Haiku!", you correct him.

"What?", he mumbled annoyed.

"I don't care what it's called. I just want to leave this place."

"Well, I like it, thank you.", you say to Drift, smiling at the bot.

In this moment of peace, it was of course Crosshairs who needed to add something unnecessary.

"Nah, it's lame"

Without warning, Drift jumped at him, swords drawn, ready to attack.

"And I thought I was crazy...", you whisper to Bee, rolling your eyes.

The bot snickered.

"Lord may you give me strength to not make anyone here short circuit on purpose..."

You squint your eyes, thinking.

"I don't even know their names yet... Wow"

"🎶Still don't know your name🎶"

"Oh you're right tho Bee.", you laugh

[marimayscarlett]

Hi! I absolutely love all of your detailed posts about Richard, they make my day when you post them, I was wondering if you could make a compilation of very wholesome moments with fans? I'm afraid that Rammstein will never come back to the US and I'll miss my chance of meeting him in person and I'd love to see some sweet fan interactions ❤️ Dankeschön ❤️❤️

Hi 🤍

Please excuse my late reply to this, but I love this ask! It's known that Richard can be very warmhearted towards fans and gives out bone-crushing hugs left and right - I found several accounts of fans who met him and will accumulate these in the following post 😊 (sources are linked at the end of the post.)

First some stories of fans who shared their experiences on the internet:

One fan met him before a concert, he gave the fan a hug and they say that to this day, they haven't forgotten the feeling of this hug.

Here's an account of a fan who met Richard at a resort in Mexico: "Richard never acted like we were imposing on his time or being a hindrance, even though he was with a table of friends. As soon as we were in eye contact range, his entire demeanor changed. He lit up like a Christmas tree and stood to shake our hands, stood close to us to chat for a few minutes - five minutes, tops, and gave us hugs as we left before shaking our hands again."

After a concert: "The hug I got was bone crushing. I was right in front of him. Cried my way through Frühling [...]. He checked on me and asked me if I was ok. Said i was fine and even the amount of times I'd seen them play, i got so caught up in the emotion. Richard told me they were the most moving moments for him at least and pulled me into a huge hug that if i think about it, i can still feel. Sounds weird but when you get a hug like that you dont forget it."

Richard seems to be a bit camera-shy while being out and about (declining selfies most of the time), but offers/asks for hugs himself as a return, as told by a fan who met him at the Chicago Airport. The fan apologized after asking for a selfie, yet Richard immediately asked her to give him a hug afterwards.

At a concert at the Palace of Auburn Hills in Detroit back, May 2012: "For some reason, I thought of making a sign that said "Pick für mich, bitte". We were right at the barricade and I decided to flash the sign. I don't even know what I expected out of it. Well, Richard fucking Kruspe went to his mic stand, got a pick, went to the security guard in front of the railing and told him to give me the pick. The guard and I had chatted prior to their performance, so he looked at me with a "way to go, kid" look. People around me cheered. Best concert memory ever. Nothing but a class act."

Another fan reports him being quite talkative and attentive during parties - apparently really listening to the other person and showing real interest. He really likes to talk about music and guitars and seemingly likes hearing the opinions of fans.

Meeting the band in front of their hotel: "His hug was the tightest, and he smells SO GOOD, I wanted to ask what was his perfume. I told him I loved Emigrate, he gave me the biggest smile and thanked me."

Then we have voice from withing the fandom on here - the lovely and helpful @anwiel13 said this about meeting him at a Meet&Greet (thank you again for sharing this! 🤍):

"Once he entered the room, we immediately know it. Not that he did something, but he really has this big personality, in very good way. He was smiling all the time, unless taking photos, than we was all his gothic deep stare self. He was also super nice to two girls, who were absolutely nervous, telling him how much they love him. We all know he hear this all the time, but he really looked like he is listening them and make them feel not like crazy fangirls annoying him with their feelings. If that's make sense. He hugged one girl when she asked him and again, did not looked like she's annoying him with this. He left very quickly after taking photos and signed our things. Overall, he was very nice and caring. I heard somebody complain about him being all snobby and annoyed during some M&G, but he was nothing like this during the one in Prague."

Plus I have found two 'essay'-posts on here describing fan-experiences at Meet&Greets and afterparties:

Here Richard is described as really warmhearted, smiling and patient with the fans:

A very wholesome interaction (with a cute Paulchard momet) with a fan who brought selfmade fan art with her:

And since of course I found some experiences with other band members on my research-way, here are my favourites of some of the other guys 😊:

At an afterparty: "I spent a long time talking to Flake who is beautifully underappreciated. He's such a wise man with an incredibly dark sense of humour. [...] Flakes English isn't great but he seemed to really appreciate that someone would talk to him in German and happy to help me figure out words I wasn't familiar with and vice versa. I really appreciated it as he did slow down his natural German speaking speed to help me continue a conversation in German as native speaking speed was just a little too fast."

At a meet and greet: "Schneider gave me such Dom-Daddy vibes that I would have got on my knees if he asked. He was so friendly, asked about myself and I was able to give him a letter from my best friend who had spoken to him years before, and he was so happy to take it."

At an afterparty of Till's solo tour (London concert): "I went to see Lindemann in London and was invited to the after party and ended up trying to open a bottle of wine with a set of keys with Till and then ended up drinking vodka and chatting to him for a few hours. Such a humble human and one of my biggest role models in life - he made me want to become a fire performer and he said I looked great doing what I do."

"Did a meet & greet on the 2019 tour and a bunch of the after parties. Doom is an incredible dancer and Paul and Richard give the best hugs." (I've read several times that Schneider seemingly kills it on the dance floor 👀)

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6

All in all, it's always amazing reading about fans having nice experiences with them - but let's not forget (since some people do exactly this), the band members are also just human beings like you and me, don't owe the fans smiles and good moods, and it's not a crime to have a bad day once in a while (with less enthusiastic interaction with fans) or just wanting some peace or being in a hurry, since they all do have private lives🤝🏼