#thank you for being so kind to me and for checking in 💛

[band--psycho]

Sylus x Reader - A Little Birdie Told Me

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

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Thank you the anon who sent in this request, it was such fun to write this!

L&DS Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: Jealous Sylus, hints of mature themes towards the end

Sylus was fully expecting to get back home to feathers, metal and blood everywhere; what else was he meant to expect when leaving you and Mephisto together for a prolonged period of time. 

You two didn’t get along. 

Sylus knew this. 

But you owed him, since he looked after the dove you found, just before going away on a work trip. 

Much to his own surprise though, you didn’t argue with him when he asked you to check in on Mephisto; which naturally only made him more suspicious. 

You were planning something. 

He didn’t know what, but the mischievous glint that was showing in your eyes as he left, confirmed his suspicions. 

That’s why he was expecting at least part of his mansion to be somewhat trashed. 

But it wasn’t. 

There were no stray feathers. 

No shards of metal. 

No specks of blood from where Mephisto could have pecked you. 

There was nothing; everything was exactly how he left it. 

And instead of his home  being filled with the sound of yours and Mephistos petty squabbles, something that he’d gotten quite used to recently, his home was silent. 

‘Maybe Luke and Kieran were right,’ he thought to himself, hanging his leather jacket on the coat hook by his front door, thinking back to what the twins had told him a few days ago as he made his way down the hall. 

According to the twins, you and Mephisto were getting along fine; more than fine in fact, according to them you two were almost inseparable, like you were friends. 

But that was a ridiculous thought, you two didn’t get along, you’d both told him that, which is what made the picture he got sent even more puzzling. 

The picture was of you, reading, as you so often do, but this time Mephisto was perched on the arm of the chair next to and your free hand was on his head, petting him.

Was that part of the reason he came back a few days earlier than he’d intended to from his trip?

Yes. 

He needed answers. 

Though it was also because that picture made him realise just how much he hated being away from you and how much he hated that he wasn’t the one being given your attention. 

Granted you could be a pain in the ass at times, sassing him at any given opportunity as well as always pushing him to do the ‘right’ thing…but he’d grown to love those qualities about you. 

You changed him. 

He knew you’d had an affect on him long ago, however it wasn’t until recently whilst he was away from you that he realised two things, 1) How much of an affect you’d truly had on him and 2) How much he’d missed everything about you; your witty and sarcastic remarks, the way your infectious smile could light up a room, the way you hummed  along to whatever song was playing through your headphones as you danced in his kitchen, completely oblivious to his presence. 

Everything. 

And now that he was home, he just wanted to see you. 

Needed to see you. 

That was the whole reason why he asked you to look after Mephisto in the first place, not that he’d ever tell you that. 

He walked into the living room, a soft smile quickly forming on his lips as he saw you fast asleep on the sofa, your body wrapped in the blanket you’d claimed as yours after a few visits, your music blaring into your ears at the loudest possible volume. 

Though Sylus’ smile faltered as he took a few more steps closer to you, allowing him to see his mechanical bird nestled in the crook of your neck, little satisfied coos left his beak as the two of you continued to sleep peacefully. 

Of all the scenarios he thought he’d be walking into, this was the most unexpected; a complete juxtaposition to what he’d assumed he’d be walking into.

He should’ve felt relief in the fact that neither of you had killed the other, but relief was not the emotion he was feeling. 

Jealousy however was. 

The same feeling that he’d tried to push to the side when he saw the picture from the twins

That’s how maddening his feelings were for you, only you could ever make him jealous of Mephisto. 

What had happened whilst he was away?

Had he somehow ended up in an alternate reality where you and Mephisto were friends? 

He shook his head at the absurd thoughts racing around in his head; but what he was seeing was exactly that, absurd. 

He wanted to wake you so he could get some answers, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so, mainly because of how peaceful you looked. 

Mephisto though was different. 

Sylus had no issue in waking him up and thanks to the music you were listening to, you wouldn’t be disturbed by his annoyed caws once he was awoken. 

~~~~~~

Safe to say, Mephisto was very unhappy at being woken up. 

And his grouchiness was naturally directed towards the person who’d disturbed him. 

“All I’m asking is, what suddenly made you two so close?” Sylus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore the jealousy remarks the crow was making. 

One thing was immediately clear to Sylus, Mephisto had certainly adopted your sassy retorts to questions. 

“I’m not,” Sylus denied; only to be mocked by the bird in front of him. 

He was becoming as infuriating as you were. 

“Are you two arguing?” You asked, your words catching Sylus off guard; he’d been so busy interrogating Mephisto that he’d been completely oblivious to you waking up or finding them in the study that they were currently standing in. 

“No,” Sylus answered simply, turning around to look at you. 

You were leaning against the doorframe of his study, your eyes meeting his and holding his gaze; it was like you were trying to read his thoughts. 

Thankfully, mind reading was not a skill you possessed. 

Much to Sylus’ dismay though, he didn’t need to answer you, because Mephisto answered for him. 

“Mephisto says you’re lying,” you stated, biting back the triumphant smile that wanted nothing more than to spread across your lips. 

Sylus didn’t know what was more shocking, the fact that she understood the Crow now behind him, or the fact that said crow had betrayed him in such a way. 

“I’m aware of what he said, sweetie,” Sylus pointed out, his voice laced with frustration as he quickly shot a glare at Mephisto. 

He knew you were going to ask why he was lying and just like that, those very words fell from your lips. 

Once again, Mephisto answered before Sylus could even open his mouth to speak; before flying very, very quickly out of the study, leaving you and Sylus alone together. 

“You were jealous?” You asked, taking a few steps closer to Sylus. 

Sylus didn’t want to admit it, but you were annoyingly persistent when you wanted answers. 

So unless he wanted to be continuously asked about Mephistos comment (Which he didn’t) he had no other choice to answer your question honestly.

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice low as you continued walking towards him, only stopping once you were directly infront of him. 

“Why?” You pushed.

He hated to admit that he was jealous; let alone saying the reason why…revealing how much he really craved your attention.

“Because I-” his words trailed off as he began to notice a playful smirk tugging at your lips, the realisation dawning on him in that very moment. 

You already knew why. 

This had all been some elaborate plan to get him to admit his feelings for you. 

“Who told you?” Sylus questioned, watching as your smirk grew.

“Who told me what?” You teased coyly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a terrible liar, sweetie,” he whispered, leaning down slightly so that his lips were brushing over the shell of your ear. 

His words alone were enough to send a shiver down your spine. 

“Who’s idea was this, yours or Mephistos?” He asked, placing a feather light kiss just under your ear. 

“Both,” you breathed out; reveling in the closeness between the two of you. 

“Thought you two didn’t get along?”  He asked quietly. 

Granted, you and Mephisto had your differences, and you didn’t always get along, but recently you’d grown quite accustomed to one another. 

Of course you squabbled, but the same way someone would with a sibling.

You knew Sylus was going to ask you to look after Mephisto, because the crow had told you so in secret.

That’s when the two of you came up with this plan. 

A plan to make Sylus jealous. 

You were never one hundred percent sure of his feelings towards you, you flirted often enough, but some people just had that type of connection, it didn’t mean he felt the same way about you, that you did him. 

“Things changed,” you answered back, your voice just as quiet as his.

“Is it true?” You asked, changing the topic of conversation as you turned your head slightly, so now your lips were inches apart. 

“Is what true?”

“What Mephisto told me about how you feel about me?”

Being this close to him was torture for the both of you; both of you waiting for the other to make the final move and close the little distance that was between you both.

He saw the anxiety creeping in your y/e/c orbs as you waited for him to answer your question. 

But he knew that he could do something better than telling you how he felt, he could show you. 

And with that thought in mind, he closed the distance between your lips. 

It took you a few seconds to actually process what was happening; but once you did you wasted no time in allowing your eyes to flutter shut and melt into the kiss. 

The kiss started off gentle, soft, the two of you clearly processing what was happening; but everything changed when you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss.

His hands found a home on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified.

“Does that answer your question, kitten?” He murmured, pulling away from you slightly. 

“I don’t know, I think I could use some clarification,” you breathlessly chuckled before his lips met yours again, obliging to give you all the clarification you needed. 

Taglist:

@xacatalepsyx @the-slytherin-poet @deathkat657 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @inlovewithsylus

[thisismeracing]

Sunshine | CL16

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x earthy!reader (she/her)

Warnings: curse words, Twitter environment, it’s not proofread, etc, etc. Minors DNI!

Summary: In which Charles starts dating an earthy/spiritual girl who just loves nature and good energy.

A/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

A/n2: Based on this request.

see my masterlist | check here if you want to be on my new taglist

you can support my writing by liking, reblogging, and leaving me a message

sunshineyn

liked by pierregasly, alex_albon, and others

sunshineyn ☀️

View all 2,472 comments

charlesandyn I love how nothing is coded, she's just kind and wants to send cute messages to people, it feels nice to be on this fandom for once

⤷ sainztires no but even when charles DNF he has a different semblance now, it's like he's bummed, but he does not let it get to him the way it did

⤷ lecactus yeah and he's doing way better ever since he started dating her (idc if the car is different, let me think that she actually helped him focus his energy and manifest good stuff)

swiftierussell Green is now my favorite color 👍

tifosigetawaycar even her username is all earthy and cute, I wanna be her friend so baddddd 😩

sunshinelewis I love how suddenly the whole fandom is following her handle, sunshine + name

charles_leclerc

liked by sunshineyn, lilyhme, and others

charles_leclerc off season 🌳🌊🥗💙

View all 8,982 comments

leclercircus sharls, whose draw is that? it looks fantastic

⤷ charles_leclerc it's yn's 🤍

⤷ monzabc omg he actually answered!!!!!

badgirlf1 No, but I won't ever forget when during Charles' live stream Yn said "Also, you're not a tree, you can move" when talking about letting go of some stuff, I laughed but I also got the message. 😅🤣

sunshineyn Thank you for sharing life with me 💚

⤷ charles_leclerc thank YOU for accepting me as I am

⤷ lovemerc so what if they say they love you, do they say "thank you for sharing life with me"? cuz that feels deeper

youreinlove God, I've seen what you did for others 🧎🏻‍♀️

schumicedes The fact that the dump starts with her and she's the center of everything? true love, I want it

pierregaslight thank you for sharing your love with us, it's heartwarming seeing you two interact 🥹💛

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, sunshineyn, and others

charles_leclerc off season dump pt.2 🌺

View all 6,420 comments

fortyfourlaps Life is good indeed, I'm being fed with content all week 😌😌

paddockandpucks Yn music taste is immaculate!

sunshineyn Life is amazing with you, love

⤷ charles_leclerc je t'aime, chérie 😘

lilyhme You're glowing, Yn! So so pretty as usual 💖🌸✨

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis

[sanguineterrain]

hii i love your work and wanted to send a request in :)

can you do “you’re just going to leave me here?!” and “i’m gonna come back for you , do you hear me?” for jason and reader? 💛

maybe they’re on a date and there’s a robbery nearby or a villain crashes a gala they are attending? also maybe the reader knows he’s red hood? or it’s early in their relationship that he hasn’t told them yet? idk if that makes sense, but if you pick this up i can’t wait to see where you take it! 💛

OH IT'S EMOTIONAL ANGST TIME! hurt no comfort 😈 thanks for requesting nonnie 🥰

jason todd x gn!reader | tw: angst, reader feels hurt, lying to protect a superhero identity (is red hood a hero? he is to ME.) i may write a pt 2 to this if there's interest 😎

****

Jason checks his phone for the fourth time tonight. You haven't even received your entrees yet.

"Everything okay?" you ask lightly.

Jason looks up, eyes wide. "Oh. Yes. Sorry, baby. Sorry."

You nod, trying to smile. "It's okay."

He puts his phone in his pocket. You try to relax and focus on your date. This place is upscale, much pricier than you're used to, but Jason had insisted. He'd said he hadn't been doing his due diligence of being your boyfriend and should take you out on more "proper" dates. You'd told him that was silly, of course; you'd be content to go anywhere with him.

But he's been acutely distracted these past few weeks, and you're starting to form terrible explanations in your head for why that might be.

You try to ignore it. You just want to spend time with your boyfriend; it's been so long.

"Oh my God, guess what happened at work today," you say.

Jason leans in, smiling. "Tell me. Was it Peggy from Marketing again?"

"Yes!" You laugh, shaking your head. "She's such a pain. I was in my cubicle when—"

Jason's watch starts to blare, the beep shrill and insistent. He curses and quickly taps at the screen. You slump back in your chair.

"Shit," he says and looks up at you.

You suddenly feel exhausted.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," Jason begins, rising from his chair. "God, fuck—you have no idea how sorry I am. It's my family, they—something's happened with my brother. He needs my help, unfortunately."

"So you're just going to leave me here?" you ask, mouth dropping open in shock. "Jay, we planned tonight two weeks ago!"

He winces. "I know. Fuck, I know, sweetheart. I'm so, so sorry. I'm gonna come back for you, okay? It'll be an hour, tops. Look, order anything you want. I'll leave my card, it's on me—"

You shake your head and stand. "No, Jason. I'm—look, I know your family is important to you, but you've done this a lot this past month, and it's not just hurtful, but it's starting to feel a little intentional. I don't know if I'm some kind of placeholder or, or—"

"Hey, no, no. You're not a placeholder. Please don't say that," Jason begs, reaching for your hand.

You keep your hand out of reach, eyes beginning to heat up.

"I'm going home," you say. "I hope your brother's okay."

"Sweetheart, please, come on. I don't wanna fight."

"Me neither," you say tiredly. "So we won't. Good night, Jason."

His watch beeps again, this time with a phone call. You walk out. It's a nicer part of Gotham, so getting a cab here isn't a problem.

Jason catches up to you instantly. He looks terrified, and it breaks your heart, but you don't have the energy tonight.

"Can I–can I call you tonight?" he asks, voice cracking.

A cab pulls up to the curb. The valet opens the door for you. Jason takes a step forward.

"I'd rather you didn't," you say quietly. "I need some time to myself, Jay."

Jason takes a step back.

"I'm sorry," he says again, desperate.

You sigh. "I know you are."

You get into the car. The valet closes the door. Jason watches you through the window, tugging at his curls like he does when he's stressed.

That night, your bed feels cold. You toss and turn for hours, trying to shake the feeling of a phantom arm snaked around your waist.

Jason doesn't call, like you'd requested. You cry anyway.

[ki-yomii]

helloo! could you recommend your favorite jungkook and yoongi fics? thank you and have a lovely day ♡

hey there~ 💛

... tbh i haven’t read too many fics for my boys lately 🙈

i've been trying to work through the books sitting on my shelf collecting dust + i got sucked back into fallout now that the show is out lol.

but i do have some all-time favorites!!

please mind the warnings/tags - you're responsible for your own reading consumption. that said, all of these fics are 🔞

i hope you have a great day nonnie and if you have any recs send them my way 🥰!

JUNG KOOK FICS

the crimson shell series by @angelicyoongie

mermaid aus are my lifeblood istg. and this is one of the best one's i've ever read!! it's dark, it's creepy, it's foreboding - and tantalizing. everything i love about mermaid/siren aus crammed into one series.

you had always found comfort in being at the beach, often spending hours just watching the waves lap against the shore. but unbeknowst to you – something had been watching you back.

make you mine two-shot by @colormepurplex2

i'm a sucker for abo, and as such, have read a looot of it over the years. its a genre that's very easy to descend into wtf-how-are-they-still-alive-after-THAT territory but this fic does it very well in a way i haven't seen too often. i loved the world-building and set up.

Alphas might rule the world, but Jungkook finds himself being ruled by the need to make you his. Omegas are rare, precious, and pliant. At least, most are. When you present late, well into your twenties, you're already set in your headstrong ways; a challenge even for a commanding alpha like Jungkook. Add to that the centuries-long feud between your families and the last thing anyone expected was for him to claim you as his soulmate.

a sea of indigo series by @foxymoxynoona this was the first BTS fic i ever read... and is a big reason as to why i got into the fandom in the first place. i had no clue who they were before then. i'd heard of them + listened to agust d without knowing it was yoongi 💀 but this fic made me check out BTS RUN and now here we are 🤪

Pitbull Hybrid Jungkook has finally been freed from the fighting rings, and now finds himself at Marigold Sanctuary & Transition Estate, a place for healing and self-discovery for rescued hybrids. It's stupid, dumb, cheesy, and hell-bent on helping Jungkook "heal" and "find himself" and "decide the course of his life." And right at the center of it is Y/N, a nurse who's got everyone bamboozled that she's like some awesome person. She's not that great. Jungkook hates it here.

YOONGI FICS

witch oneshot by @sailoryooons

this is easily one of my top 3 yoongi fics. the world building, the tension, the relationship between yoongi and reader. it ticks all my boxes and vividly paints a picture of this universe. i adore the concept, and love the way this fic is brought to life through sailoryooons storytelling.

For years, you and Yoongi have played cat and mouse. It’s his duty to rid the world of witches, but he always finds a new excuse to let you slip through his fingers. When you find yourself at his mercy, you wonder if the great witch hunter will finally end your game of chase, or if there’s something that will stay his hand. 

desolate series by @angelicyoongie

one of the first hybrid fics i've read for bts 😭 i love my lil meow meow and the set-up for this fic is amazing. it takes a fresh direction with the hybrid trope and builds a relationship that feels organic and progresses very naturally💛

you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

ps. i woof you oneshot by @gimmesumsuga

this one is just so so cute and asjhdjsghfjs!! i adored remi and thought about having yoongi and holly as neighbors for days after reading this lol.

The one with a happy accident of the furry, four-legged kind - “Are you calling my dog a slut?!” 

first and last and always oneshot by @floralseokjin

i'm not one for holiday fics/aus usually but there's something about this one that i absolutely adored. it felt very realistic and drew me into the relationship within the first few paragraphs. the angst is so well done and heartfelt, it made me cry lol.

You and Yoongi broke up two months ago. It was mutual, you’re positive, but there’s one teeny tiny issue... You never told your parents, and now they’ve invited you back home for Christmas. Both of you. You can’t say no, but you also can’t bear to go alone, so you do the only thing you can think of, plead with Yoongi to come with you and pretend like everything’s okay...

go send these authors some love!!

[hatsunemiku-official]

ABOUT ME-KU

(+ FAQ / VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST)

hi! im miku and welcome to Internet! you can do lots of fun things here. like look at my blog! ok im gonna hand the mic over to the omnipotent being that watches my every move

thanks miku. here are some things to remember before you send an ask:

- I am not associated with crypton, sega, or the official miku twitter! im just a guy making funny post

- miku lives in a computer. i probably won’t answer anything referring to her doing things in the real world, since saying “I am in a computer what are you talking about” is only funny the first five times

- I use my askbox as a jumping off point for jokes! if I don’t answer your ask it’s not because I didn’t like it, I just probably couldn’t think of anything funny to respond with

- I love receiving art!!!!!!! please send me your miku art!!!!!!! you can even send me a link to your art posted on your own blog and I’ll reblog it so you still get the notes!!!! I LOVE ART!!!!!! (also the ai training toggle has been turned off for this blog so. you’re safe here.)

- there are some things you should speak to a mental health professional about ( ie “i just can’t go on” “my life is terrible” ect) and you should not send these things to hatsune miku. i understand and empathize with you but I cannot help you and it’s very upsetting to receive things like this !

- anything written in parentheses for the most part is an ooc comment from the person running this blog (that’s me!). I don’t like doing this very often though, so if you have a question that can only really be answered ooc then please ask it off anon so I can respond privately!

- please remember I am just one person and sometimes I make mistakes! im a pretty busy person and also disabled so sometimes things slip through the cracks when im low energy. I do my best though so please let me know if you think i’ve made a mistake and i’ll do my best to fix it :]

- sometimes I like to reblog miku art from other people! please be respectful in these artists notes. I know this is a silly jokes blog but these people have not necessarily signed up to be goofed at on their posts. please be kind and keep the clowning to a minimum on posts that aren’t made by me!

- no TERFS allowed. hatsune miku loves trans women

FAQ

Q: can I make a vocaloid-official blog too???

A: yes!!!! anybody can!! please let me know if you do so I can add you to the masterpost and interact with you! I would check the masterpost first though to make sure there hasn’t already been a blog made for that character :]

Q: do you also run [insert other vocaloid-official blog]?

A: no! I can barely think of funny things to say here do you really think I could manage being funny on two blogs at once. I am friends with the people who run the teto, luka and una blogs so if our posts seem coordinated it’s because I asked them really nicely

Q: who runs this account?

A: secret

Q: miku what’s your opinion on [insert queer identity]

A: I don’t like answering these because I don’t want to open myself up to shitty comments and I can’t think of anything funny to say that wouldn’t just sound like “ally twitch streamer smiling at the camera and saying trans rights”. this blog is run by a queer person and miku is whatever you want her to be, if that helps.

Q: i made a vocaloid-official blog! how do I get added to the masterpost?

A: adding people to the masterpost has gotten really overwhelming for me so I won’t be doing it anymore. sorry! feel free to still make a vocaloid-official blog and interact with me if you want, I just won’t be updating the masterpost anymore. the current list will stay up as it is as sort of like. a memento or something.

Q: do you know anything about PJSK???

A: no <3

OFFICIAL VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST

these are my Official Friends! go say hi to them!!

🥖 @kasaneteto-official

🐟 @megurineluka-official

🐙 @otomachi-una-official

🍷 @hanakomeiko-official

💛 @neruakita-official

🍌 @kagaminelen-official

🍊 @kagaminerin-official

🍦@kaitoshinon-offical

🐢 @ryuto-official (RESURRECTED)

💜 @vflower-official

🥕 @gumi-official

🖤 @zatsunemiku-official

🍡 @tohokuzunko-official

🩹 @fukase-official

🔌 @utatanepiko-official

🐰 @yukari-official

🩵 @ringsuzune-official

⚓️ @oliverv3-official

🌷 @nekomurairoha-official

🥢 @vocaloidcul-official

☕️ @rukoyokune-official

🥂 @meiko-offical

👑 @galaco-official

🐱 @seeu-official

🌸 @meikahime-official

🪻 @meikamikoto-official

🍆 @gakupo-official

🎀 @utanekoe-official

🌹 @sakinemeiko-official

🔪 @mayuofficial

🛰️ @moonbase-alpha-tts-official

🍺 @yowane-haku-official

🪐 @ia-official

🎹 @namineritsu-official

☁️ @tone-rion-official

🎤 @maika-official

🌈 @kawaiine-official

🍏 @macnenana-official

🌻 @dex-official

💗 @garnetvocaloid-official

💿 @yohioloid-official

🌺 @zhizidongfang-official

🤍 @kokone-official

🐸 @vocaloidrana-official

🌟 @xingchen-official

🍎 @yuki-official

🌿 @fionetheutau-official

💫 @sfa2miki-official

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Though We're Strangers 'Til Now

And now for something completely different! Now I want you guys to do me a favour here, and I need you to picture this fic as having like, a BBC Saturday night family show budget. I’m specifically talking Atlantis, but if you’ve not seen Atlantis (like most people), think Merlin. I wrote Edwin and Charles’ voices entirely as I’d write them in canon-verse, with nearly no regard to the fact I was transplanting them into ancient Greece, so it’s VERY important to me that you embrace the Camp. This is a styrofoam dungeon. Charles is about to meet his destiny in a labyrinth that’s just a quarry in Wales. The historical outfits all have zips up the back. Get on board with the vibe. This one goes out to @every-moment-a-different-sound, who not only made me aware of Painland week as a thing but also approached me for a collab! Go check out their FUCKING GORGEOUS GIFS for this fic!!! This fic quite literally wouldn’t exist without them, Robin you fuckin' rule 💛 4.7k, T-rated, also available on Ao3. Thanks again, @painlandweek!

The dungeon was a proper dingy place. Charles wondered if that's where they got the name from. Dingy, dungeon. Too similar to be a coincidence, right?

Lying on his back on the hard wood pallet, head on his hands, he stared at the pale moonlight bleeding through the window. 'Window' was being a bit generous; it was more of a slit in the wall. Narrow, barred, so high he could've stood on tiptoes and barely brushed it with his fingertips. But at least it was big enough to let in that light. He supposed he was lucky. Between the sliver of moonlight and the sputtering candle in the hallway past the wall of bars, he was bloody spoiled. He didn't know exactly where they were sending him tomorrow, but he had a pretty strong hunch that it would be dark. The kind of dark that drove men mad. Maybe the madness would get him before the bloody great beast in the tunnels got the chance.

Seemed a bit off, really. Putting him in the dingy dungeon when he bloody volunteered for this. Maybe they thought he'd change his mind and leg it in the night. Any half-sensible person would, wouldn't they? No one had ever given Charles an earful for having common sense, though. Usually the opposite.

No running away for him, that's for sure. He was bedded down for the night, just him and a handful of snoring cellmates. Despite the panic and crying, the six other lads had managed to drift into some kind of sleep, however uneasy. Not Charles, though. Too much on his mind. The stupid idea that brought him here in the first place. The near certainty that he'd fail, in the end, and he’d have no one but himself to blame for his bloody demise.

Wasn’t all bleak thoughts, though. After all, there was always him.

The prince.

He closed his eyes, letting it all play out in his head again. Stepping off the boat, being 'greeted' (shackled and marched to the dungeons) by the 'welcoming committee’ (royal guard). Him and thirteen other boys and girls, thanked like heroes and handled like criminals. The king in all his fancy regalia, booming his solemn gratitude to the brave youths for their sacrifice — as if any one of them but Charles had any choice in it. And standing there, at the king's back...

Look, Charles may have had more important things to think about, but he knew a fit lad when he saw one.

Fit didn't even cover it. The boy was just about the most gorgeous thing Charles had ever seen — or ever would see. Unless he spotted a prettier one before he died tomorrow, that is. Bit unlikely.

There was just something about him, the prince. Charles wasn't even into the posh sort, generally. Like with the more well-to-do lads from his own town — something about the baked-in entitlement soured them. Made them ugly, even if they were objectively alright looking. He could smile politely and play nice, but he’d sooner kiss a frog than a rich merchant’s kid. And a prince was a pretty big step up from a merchant's son, wasn't he? By rights he ought to be even worse. Charles probably didn't even register as a human to him. He wasn’t worth wasting a thought on.

Except Charles could still picture him perfectly, in his head. He could play out the whole welcome start to finish. How Charles' heart, all shrivelled in fear, had jumpstarted soon as he clapped eyes on the prince.

"Charles..."

He'd had dark hair all perfectly combed into an inky shine, almost prettier than the gold crown on top of it. Eyes like sea glass, clear and green and shining with a cunning light; eyes that had scanned the line of offerings and landed on Charles. Fixed him with such an intense, curious scrutiny he'd actually felt himself blush.

Hadn't Charles seen him somewhere before? That chin, that nose, those high cheekbones? He could've sworn he'd walked past him at a temple somewhere, carved from pristine marble. He could see him so clearly in his mind's eye, surely he must've known him all his life.

"Charles...?"

If he concentrated, really concentrated, he could even hear his voice...

"Charles Rowland!"

Blimey, that was scary. That sounded real.

Charles blinked his eyes open and frowned. He let his head flop to the side and looked across the cell, where the stone wall gave way to bars.

There, framed by iron and flickering candlelight, there he stood. Pretty as a picture — baffling as a dream.

Charles sat up, slow, cautious. He almost said something proper stupid, like 'what's a nice boy like you doing in a dungeon like this?'

"Um," he fumbled. "Evenin'?"

Mm. Not much better, really, was it?

"Evening, your highness?" he corrected himself, with a wince. Gods, his old man would've walloped him good and proper for talking to a royal like that.

Prince Edwin, however, didn't sneer or snap or even walk away. It was hard to see his face, at a distance in the gloom, but he almost looked amused. Charles thought he could see the barest shadow of a lifted lip, anyway.

"Good evening," said the prince. He said it so quiet, barely above a whisper, but his crisp tone carried regardless. He cocked his head slightly and beckoned with a finger. "Might I have a word?"

Charles glanced behind himself. Just on the off-chance there was another Charles Rowland he didn't know about squeezed onto the narrow bed with him. There wasn't, obviously, and he was a good few feet from any of his sleeping cellmates. No mistaking who the prince was after. He swallowed, stood up, and crept across the uneven flagstones, stepping over the sprawled legs of another boy.

As he neared, as the situation sank in and the prince came into focus, a new bundle of nerves started kicking off. Nothing like the anxious dread that had been stewing in his gut all night, the 'oh, gods, they're feeding me to a monster in the morning' nerves. No, this was different. More familiar but also, weirdly, worse than the monster dread. Fuck, but this lad was gorgeous. Not even the dungeon gloom could hide it. He was almost blinding to look at — and now those clever eyes were fixed right on Charles, no one else. Nowhere to hide. Fuck, Charles probably had sweat and cellar grime all over his face, and all!

Charles came to a standstill, toes almost touching the bars. Up close, he could see that him and the prince were about the same height. Edwin might've had the advantage by an inch or so, but maybe that was just his perfect posture. Spine straight and shoulders back, he regarded Charles with his head curiously cocked and his hands steepled. For a royal, he wasn't dressed all that flashy. Hadn't gone in for any jewellery besides the gilded circlet on his head. And under the blue silk chlamys clasped at his shoulder, his chiton was a simple white, clean and sharp and draped neatly to knee length. Expensive, pristine, put-together, but not exactly ostentatious. Mind you, that's just the sliver of outfit that Charles could see — because the prince had topped the whole thing off with a thick, practical brown cloak. A peacock disguised as a pigeon.

After a moment's quiet contemplation, the prince finally spoke. "I'm told you volunteered," he said. He kept his voice down, but it stayed crisp and clear. Highborn through-and-through. Probably wasn't even capable of mumbling.

Charles supposed it was a bit unusual, but unusual enough to bring a prince skulking down to the dungeons? He reckoned he was right about Edwin's eyes, that cleverness in them — he wasn't just a pretty face under a crown. He wanted to know things. He was staring at Charles like he wanted to pick him apart, understand him.

"Yeah," Charles answered. He forced a grin. "Not my best idea."

The prince blinked and leaned a little closer, intrigued. "Why in the world would you volunteer for this?"

His attention was sort of a lot — but it felt... good. Charles wanted to keep it. Hold onto it. He wanted this clever, gorgeous lad to think he was the most fascinating thing in the room.

Charles shrugged. "I can fight. I can take a hit. Seemed like the right thing to do. The decent thing, yeah?"

Edwin narrowed his eyes. "You’d forfeit your life to... give the beast a fight for its food?"

Charles shifted on his feet. "Not... exactly."

The prince watched him, all expectant. Charles sighed.

"Years it's been going on," he said, barely a mumble — Edwin leaned a little closer still to listen. "Lads and lasses being packed off, fed to that thing to keep it happy. Not right, is it? And I thought, well..."

He'd thought a lot of things. He'd thought well, he was already getting the shit beaten out of him every other day, so what's a little mauling on top of it? He'd thought about being his father's son, with his father's temper, and how maybe that could be a good thing for once. He'd thought about how things could change for him if he came back — and about who would even miss him if he didn't. He'd thought of all those kids less deserving than him, sent miles from home to be ripped to shreds. Sent away from bright futures and families that loved them. Gentle types who'd never hurt a fly. Kids who'd never learned to take a beating. Kids who didn't have the anger to keep them alive. Kids who weren't monster enough to survive the real thing.

"I thought, well, I'm pretty good in a scrap," he said, brightly, plastering on a smile. "Pretty stubborn. Thought if I went down there, maybe I could..."

"Could what?"

Charles raised his eyebrows.

Edwin looked at him blankly.

Charles rolled his eyes, held up one hand, and punched his fist into it twice.

Edwin's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "You mean to... slay the minotaur?"

"Told you it wasn't my best idea," said Charles.

"You have a talent for understatement," said Edwin, a sharp hiss. His voice had quickened and thinned into a hushed, incredulous patter. "I'd go so far as to describe that idea as fatuous, hubristic, and downright suicidal!"

Charles snorted. "Yeah. Sounds about right." He leaned his shoulder against the bars, brought his face closer to the prince's — which was such a brilliant idea it immediately gave him a really, really bad one. So bad it was impossible to resist.

He gave him a lax, lopsided grin — the one that he could bring out back home to make the girls giggle. "Be good if it worked, though, wouldn't it?"

Coming onto a bloody prince like he was some blushing farm lad... well, it probably wasn't a worse idea than throwing himself into a minotaur's labyrinth, but it probably wasn't much better, either. But what did it matter? They couldn't punish him, could they — they were already feeding him to a monster in the morning. What did he have to lose? Why not take a crack at the handsome prince with the pretty eyes? Sod it, it was his last night on Earth.

Edwin, to Charles' immense glee, actually seemed to get a little pink in the face. His eyes darted away and back again. "Yes, well..." He cleared his throat and straightened his cloak with a sharp tug of the front. "Have you a plan? Tactics? A weapon, at the very least?"

"Um. Well. No, not really." He dropped his fist on the bars once, twice, mulling it over. "But, I have been told my smile's pretty disarming!"

If his clumsy flirting hadn't been enough to break through the regal composure, that would've done it. Edwin's mouth dropped open a little, his brows drawing close together as he stared at Charles in abject disbelief. "Dear gods," he said, voice light and brittle. "You're doomed."

Charles chuckled, resting his forehead against the bars. "Yeah. Suppose so. Won't go down without a fight though, eh?"

He looked up through his eyelashes and found Edwin still staring, lips parted just a bit. Fuck, he had nice lips. Kissable. Charles reckoned he’d miss kissing when he was dead. What was the sentence for stealing a kiss from a prince — was it worse than death by minotaur? He might be willing to risk it.

Edwin tore his gaze away and glanced down the hall, first one way, then the other. Furtive. He seemed to come to some kind of decision. "Charles," he whispered. "Are your cellmates all asleep?"

Pulse quickening, Charles forced his eyes away from the prettiest person in the room to have a glance at the others. Everyone looked the same as they had before. Same chorus of snores and soft breaths and muttered, whimpered nightmares. "Yeah. Yeah, I reckon so."

"Right. Excellent." Edwin cleared his throat again and crowded closer to the bars.

Charles' heart was racing. He couldn't lean any closer to the bars than he already was but he wanted to. He didn't mean to, but he bit his lip, eyes flickering down to Edwin's mouth.

Edwin took another wary glance behind him, and tugged his cloak back. He reached inside. His hand closed around something under his arm and drew it out — something long and wrapped in leather.

Charles caught his breath.

"Take it," Edwin ordered, holding the hilt of the sword to the bars and looking Charles in the eye. "Quickly, and quietly."

Charles didn't need telling twice. He grabbed it, his fingers grazing Edwin's. Gods, he even had beautiful hands. Smooth on the back but a bit calloused on the pads. Didn't escape Charles' notice that the blade, though heavy, seemed to be a familiar weight in his hands.

"Cheers, mate," Charles breathed, drawing the cumbersome thing through the gap. If he was careful, he reckoned he could stash it under his thin cloak without anyone knowing.

He hadn't meant to call the gorgeous boy (who also happened to be fucking royalty) mate, but if Edwin was offended he didn't show it. In fact he ducked his head in a bashful little dip. It was so endearing Charles had to do another quick pros-and-cons list in his head about the risks of snogging him through the bars.

"Well," said Edwin, a forced lightness in his tone. "If you must embark upon this fool's errand, you must have the proper equipment."

Charles let out a ragged breath. "Thank you," he said, sincere, as he slid the scabbard through his belt. He laughed a little, rubbing the back of his head. "To be honest, I've... I've never been more scared in my life."

Edwin's shrewd gaze softened. His whole face did. It actually bowled Charles over a little bit, the difference. He felt like he ought to look away, like he was seeing something he shouldn't. A prince shouldn't be looking at him like that. Not him. Like he was something special. Something he was in awe of. "I can only imagine."

Charles bit his lip. "Less scared, now," he said, fidgeting with the hilt of the sword. Even though he felt a bit like he'd been flayed open and laid at the prince's feet, he still managed a wink. "Reckon I'll show that big bugger what's what with this thing, don't you?"

The prince’s eyes twinkled over his small, indulgent smile. "Oddly enough... yes. I believe you just might." He seemed to catch himself, a pretty blush high on his cheeks as he schooled his expression back into something a bit more lofty. "And quite a feather in your cap it will be. That beast has been a thorn in my father's side for years, holding the kingdom to ransom."

Edwin's gaze flickered over Charles, head to toe, and the pretty blush deepened. "If you were to end its reign of terror, you'd be more than deserving of a handsome reward."

"Oh, yeah?" said Charles. If he sounded breathless, it's 'cause he was. "What sort of reward?"

He felt dazed. He must've been dreaming. Five minutes ago he was accepting his fate, and now he'd been brought a fighting chance. By a gorgeous prince. Who was fucking flirting with him. They must've knocked his head on the bars when they shoved him in the cell — he was probably lying in the corner, drooling and babbling.

Edwin's eyes were restless, darting from Charles' face to his feet. His throat bobbed around a dry swallow. He looked too real to be a dream — but also too good to be true. His hand lifted, fingers resting on an iron bar between them.

"Well," he said, sounding pretty bloody breathless himself. "You could take your pick."

If this wasn't a dream, it was definitely a trick. Some rich kid teasing him, waiting to pull away at the last second and laugh at him for being so easy to string along. Or waiting for an excuse to run to his daddy and bag Charles a fate worse than death for getting fresh with him.

Except for whatever reason, he didn't believe that. Couldn't. For some reason, he trusted Edwin. Felt like he knew him. Like he'd always known him. And he knew he was kind. Not necessarily nice, but kind. For whatever reason he knew Edwin wasn't the sort to mess around with someone's feelings — or pretend to be interested when he wasn't.

Why he'd be interested in Charles of all people was another thing, but... sod it. Charles was probably gonna die tomorrow, anyway. Why not pretend it was possible for a minute? What the fuck did he have to lose?

Feeling once again like the undisputed king of bad decisions, Charles took a breath, and put his hand on top of Edwin's. He almost couldn't believe his luck when Edwin didn't pull away. His hand was soft — like the little gasp he let out when their skin touched.

Swallowing past his dry mouth, Charles laced their fingers. He let them lay there, woven on the bars; the warp and weft of it felt so right he wondered how they hadn't been doing this for years. How'd he gone this long, not realising how empty his hands were without Edwin's tangled up inside them?

He looked at Edwin's face and saw all his own thoughts reflected. Saw Edwin staring at their hands like they were a bloody marvel. Like the last piece of a puzzle had clicked into place. His face was so open, so alive — so gently amazed and Charles had never wanted to kiss someone more in his life.

Charles laughed, quiet, awed. "Handsome prize, alright."

That earned him another quick, coy duck of Edwin's head — but Charles could see him preening clear as day. "Be sure you're alive to claim it," he said, soft and serious. He squeezed Charles' hand once before breaking the hold.

Charles sketched a lazy salute to distract his hand from how empty it felt. "No dying. Right-o."

Edwin smiled. A proper smile; a quick flash of teeth breaking through his tight-lipped, regal composure. Charles would've fought the bloody titans to get another glimpse of it.

"You are... odd," said Edwin, matter-of-factly. "And quite mad, I suspect."

"...Cheers?"

Humming, Edwin reached into his cloak once more. "There is just one other thing..."

He brought out something small from a pouch at his waist. Something round, with a leather cord threaded through the middle and tied off in a loop. Edwin held it aloft, thumb and forefinger pinched through the handle. The little round something glowed silky gold in the candlelight, and Charles squinted at it.

"...String?" he asked.

Edwin nodded, reaching into the cell to take Charles' hand and draw it through the bars. His touch lingered as he placed the generous clew of fine, shimmering string in Charles' palm.

"I had the idea that if you were to unspool it behind you, perhaps you might be able to navigate the labyrinth with greater ease." Head bowed, he looked at Charles through his lashes. Pretty, fluttering things they were, charcoal black. "So that when you slay the beast, you might find your way back."

Charles gawped at him. "Mate. That's proper smart."

Edwin preened again — actually, he preened more than he had when Charles' complimented his looks. Handy to know. "Yes, I thought it rather a sensible idea. I spun it myself; I’ve been experimenting with the tensile strengths of different fibres. It shan’t break."

Charles grinned, closing his hand around the clew — and Edwin's fingers, too. "Brains and beauty, eh?" he said. "Where've you been all my life?"

Edwin went pinker, his eyes twinkled. Warmer than the candlelight, brighter than the moon.

Charles would have to offer up a prayer tonight to any god who might be listening. He'd do anything, give them anything, if they only promised to get him through tomorrow alive. He needed at least a thousand more days ahead of him, just to spend finding more and ingenious ways of making this boy smile at him.

Soon, too soon, Edwin sighed, reluctantly extricating his hand from Charles'. "I must go," he said, apologetic. "Questions will be asked if I'm discovered down here in the dead of night."

"Yeah. Yeah, 'course." Charles let his hand fall to his side, clenching it around the thread — still warm from Edwin's hand. He laughed, softly. "Well, um. Thanks for... dropping in?"

"And thank you for your discretion," said Edwin, raising his eyebrows as he drew his cloak back around him. "I'm sure I need not impress upon you the fact that I was never here."

Charles mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key.

"Good. Very good." Edwin shifted his weight between his feet a moment, finger lifting, mouth opening as if he had more to say. But whatever it was, he thought better of it. He drew his hands into fists in front of him, pressed together knuckle to knuckle, and offered a tight smile instead. "Well... best of luck, Charles Rowland. I truly hope you find fortune on your side."

With a stiff bob of his head, he turned fluidly on his heel to walk away. And it hit Charles again, hard, right between the eyes. The possibility that tomorrow could be his last day alive. A few minutes ago, the idea hadn't bothered him much.

Fuck. It bothered him, now.

"Edwin," he said, almost losing control of his volume as desperation sunk its hooks into him. He grabbed the bars, white-knuckled. "Edwin, wait —"

And he did. He waited, his back to Charles, his posture so, so perfect. Still as a statue.

Charles swallowed. "Can..."

Edwin turned his head, just slightly.

Charles' courage abandoned him. He huffed, shaking his head. "Nah. Nothing."

Of course, if there's one thing Charles knew about Edwin by now, it was that he couldn't resist a mystery. He turned to face Charles, eyes bright and curious. "Is there something else you require?"

Charles forced a smile. "You've already given me two gifts, mate. Bit greedy to ask for another one, yeah?"

"Perhaps." Edwin paused, and took a cautious step closer. "But, between ourselves... I can see little harm in the asking."

Charles' grin bloomed into something more sincere, something real. "No standing on ceremony, eh?"

Edwin's eyes crinkled at the corners. "I hardly see the point. I think perhaps you and I might dispense with formalities."

"Right."

Well then. Why not? Last night on Earth, and all that.

Charles ducked his head, laughing softly at himself. "Well. I was gonna be a bit cheeky, actually. Ask you to gimme a kiss for luck. But I reckon that's a bit — mmf!"

Quick, quicker than Charles could've imagined, Edwin was right there; reaching through the bars, taking Charles' face in his hands, and pulling him into a bruising kiss.They were lucky neither of them broke their noses against the iron strips.

Charles startled, gasped, so blindsided he didn't even know what to do with his hands — so he ended up just sort of clinging onto the bars. But soon enough his eyes fluttered closed, his breath rushed out of him and he melted. He kept his grip on the bars, though, holding on tight just to keep his knees from buckling. Edwin's lips were soft, and hotter than fire. His kiss was clumsy and overeager and not even slightly what Charles would've expected from someone so elegant, so refined. But he tasted of honey and home and Charles could've got lost in him, happily. Charles felt like he'd been shoved against the wall and plundered, in the best possible way. He felt like Edwin was everywhere, filling his senses. Hard not to feel wrapped up in him, with the way Edwin had his hands cupped round Charles' face, covetous and claiming. Like Charles belonged to him.

Fuck, maybe he did. Maybe he always had.

Edwin broke the kiss, but he didn't let Charles go. Just pulled back a little, still framing Charles' face with his fingers. His eyes were dark, hooded, his pretty eyelashes fluttering as he stroked Charles' cheek with his thumb. Face flushed, breathing hot and fast, gazing at Charles like he could devour him with his eyes. Charles shivered under the possessive weight of his gaze. He felt seen, admired, treasured. He felt owned.

He wanted more. More, more, until he suffocated under it.

Edwin took a shuddering inhale. "Come back to me," he said. And just because his voice was high and wavering with feeling didn't make it any less commanding. It wasn't a request; it was an order.

Charles nodded, in a daze. "I will," he promised.

He was as surprised as anyone to find he actually meant it.

Edwin nodded, and pulled him in close once more. Quick as you like, for just one more kiss — this one dry and fleeting, almost chaste. Bit of a departure from the one before, but somehow all the more devastating. Charles could feel Edwin's palms against his jaw, pressing so tight they ought to bruise. He hoped they would. A sword and a string weren't enough; he wanted everything Edwin could give him. Every tangible reminder that this was real, wasn't just a mad dream.

When that kiss broke, so did Edwin's hold. When he stepped away, he went all the way. And with one last lingering, longing look, he was gone, fading into the night. A mirage. A ghost.

And like a broken amphora, Charles remained right where Edwin had left him. Off-kilter, rooted to the spot. His outer shell shattered; his insides pooling at his feet for all to see.

~

It would be a sombre morning, just as the others had been. A familiar and predictable tragedy; as it always was, and always shall be.

At dawn's early light, just as they always had, seven young men and seven young women would be led — marched, bullied, carried — to the mouth of the labyrinth. There, the trembling gathering would be ushered into the embrace of the earth and stone. Pushed by the merciless hands of a royal guard, who'd long learned to look past the blood upon them.

But on this occasion, quite without the guards' knowledge, one youth would hang back from the crowd. From his cloak he would draw a small token, round and bright like a golden apple. A ball of fine yarn — spun in strong, beautiful fibres by strong, beautiful hands. He would find the end of the thread and fasten it, tightly, to an old iron ring within the threshold.

Then, with the clew unspooling from his fingers, painting a trail behind him like a steady drip of molten gold, he would walk into the jaws of death. Not with fear, not even with resignation, but with purpose. He was no hapless sacrifice, no tragic victim. He was a youth who'd grown accustomed to treading lightly through the dark, lest the monster in his house leap from the shadows. A youth with steel in his hand, and his own monster in his belly; a monstrous rage, and monstrous desire. A hunger to rival that of the minotaur’s.

A youth with a promise to keep in the dark; and a path waiting to lead him back to the light.

~~

A ball of thread is known as a clew or, in an alternative spelling, a clue. To this day, we talk about following the ‘clues’ to discover something, and it’s all thanks to the story of Theseus and Ariadne’s thread. — things I didn’t even know when I came up with this idea but make me insane… everything is connected… detective boys forever… Thanks for reading guys! You know I adore your comments 💛 and don't forget to give Robin's amazing gifs some love as well! Dunno if I'll get anything posted tomorrow, but if I do it'll either be something much shorter or maybe some sketches. I will defo see you for another fic on day 4, though! Any encouragement very much welcomed, it's been a rough couple of weeks💛 Painland Week Prompt List

[zombiigrll]

Could you make a fic for Carl where he’s kind of yandere-like? You can get creative with it, but just something creepy like that. It’s okay if not! 💛

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BLOODY VALENTINE. ⋆｡°✩ yandere!carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1.5K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ use of y/n, gore mention, blood, murder, 'yandere-like' carl (i hate using the word yandere but i don't know what else could be used T_T), crying, vomit, takes place in alexandria .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ it was pretty obvious you and carl had liked each other for a while. but after you started getting close with ron, carl started to change. ꩜ .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ thank you so much for the request anon! i've never really written something like this before so i hope its to your liking <3 also this ofc isn't in character for carl, so i know some of the writing isn't gonna seem like him n stuff :p

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────────────────────────────── you had known carl since the prison. michonne found you on a run and took you in. and ever since then, you and carl would always hangout together. you were practically inseperable.

...that was until you guys arrived at alexandria and you met a boy named ron.

you and carl met him together when his mother and rick decided it'd be nice if the two of you made friends with people your guys' age. "you guys have video games?!" you immediately took interest to the moving characters on the television in front of ron and the boy named mikey.

"yeah, you want a turn?" ron asked, moving the controller toward you.

"yes, please!" you beamed, reaching to grab the controller from his hand when your finger grazed his, making you flinch a bit in embarrassment. "oh, sorry."

carl instantly noticed this interaction and walked over, ripping the controller out of your hand.

you frowned. "hey-"

"we're leaving." carl looked at you, then back at ron angrily.

"uh, why?" ron raised an eyebrow, squinting at carl.

carl scoffed, throwing the controller back to ron and aggressively grabbing your hand in his, practically dragging you out of the house.

"dude, what the fuck?" you shoved carl away from you once the two of you got outside.

"i don't like him. he's weird." carl blankly said, staring down at you as if your reaction was unnatural.

"he didn't even do anything! all he did was give me a controller, what's so weird about that?"

"he just met you and he's already trying to make moves-"

"no, carl. he wasn't. he was being nice." you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms together. "if anyone is being weird, it's you. what's wrong with you right now?"

carl looks at the ground and laughs before bringing up a hand to the side of your face. "nothing is 'wrong' with me. i'm fine."

"obviously not. you've never acted like this before." you shoved his hand away, shaking your head.

carl looks at you, upset, but at the same time, furious. "whatever." he walks away, shoulder-checking you as he passes.

you look back at him, confused. carl was the sweetest boy you've ever met. he's always been there for you through everything, so what is the matter with him right now?

you brushed the thoughts away and walked back into rons house, trying to clear your mind from whatever the hell is happening with carl right now.

...

the two of you hadn't spoken to each other in a while. you've been spending your time becoming acquainted to the people of alexandria, and he'd been off doing whatever.

you haven't really seen him at all, except for when you'd go home. he'd be on his porch, shaking his leg with his arms crossed. every. single. day.

he was scaring you, and you weren't confident enough to ask him what's wrong. especially not after the way he shut you down last time.

you were sure it was just him going through puberty. you never knew how boys developed, so you assumed all boys acted like how carl was acting. jealous and insecure.

you didn't even like ron, not like that. he was dating enid, and you liked carl, even if he was being weird. you just wanted to make new friends.

but today felt awful. you woke up with a sick, eerie feeling laying in your stomach. something felt wrong, but you didn't know why. you put your clothes and shoes on and stepped outside, and alexandria was silent.

"...hello?" you called out loudly. no answer.

you looked around your surroundings and noticed that some cars were missing, which you assumed was due to rick and a few others going out on a run together.

'maybe ron is here?' you thought as your gaze went towards his house. you started walking closer to the dimly lit building. as you stepped onto the porch, you rung the doorbell twice. "hello? is anyone home?" you asked through the door.

you heard a voice from the other side. "shit." a raspy, distressed voice spoke.

"are you okay?" you knocked on the door loudly as that sound.

silence.

"i'm coming in." you quickly opened the door, a disgusting stench filling your nose. "what the hell..?"

you looked around and the living room and it looked normal for the most part, despite some oddly moved furniture and some glass on the ground. but that smell. it was nauseating.

"who's there?" you asked, looking around at your surroundings as you stepped closer to the hallway, which was also closer to the strong stench. "i know someone's in here, just answer-"

you froze as you looked ahead through the doorframe and into ron's room.

there was blood everywhere. and a figure facing away from you wearing a very familiar sheriffs hat.

"oh, my god." you gagged, covering your mouth with your hand as your eyes widened at the scene.

a clinging sound was heard, a bloody knife falling to the ground. right besides ron and mikeys bodies.

you were about to pass out. you brought up your arm to hold onto the doorframe for support.

"...what did you do?"

the boy didn't respond. instead, he turned to face you. there was blood stained all along his face and body, and his eyes looked dark. he stepped closer to you, which made you step away in fear.

"i'm not going to hurt you." he softly spoke, reaching out a bloody hand in your direction.

your eyebrows furrowed in fear as you looked him straight in the eye. "are you kidding me..?"

carl brought his bloodstained hand up to your cheek, resulting in the fresh blood spreading along your face and a shiver rolling down your spine.

"i love you."

as he spoke, your faces were inches apart, the smell of iron filling up through your nose. your eyes widened further and you shook your head away from his hand. "you.. you killed ron, you killed mikey, and... now you're saying you love me in a room splattered in their blood?" you laughed fearfully.

he stayed silent, taking in your terrified expression.

"you told me you'd always keep me safe. you'd always make sure i would never feel afraid again." you reminded him, stepping further back. "you failed. miserably."

"y/n-"

"don't." you cut him off. your eyes focused back to the bodies, and you fully processed everything. your body jerked up and you threw up right by your feet. "..holy shit."

"i just.." carl shook his head. "i didn't want to lose you. i didn't want you to leave me."

"so you fucking murdered ron and mikey?!" you yelled, wiping your mouth off with your sleeve. "do you hear yourself?"

carl stayed silent, staring down at the ground with clenched fists.

"i liked you, carl. only you." your voice softened as tears began glazing over your eyes. "there wasn't any competition. it was only you."

carl looked over at you, wide eyed and confused, more guilty than before. "..what?"

"you didn't have to.. to kill people to show you love me." you pointed behind him, reminding him of what he did.

he was speechless. guilty as ever. he was shaking frantically. tears flooded his eyes as he brought a hand up to his face, which only resulted in more blood spreading across his already bloodstained face.

you laid your head on the wall, recollecting your self. carl just stood by the doorframe spacing out.

"...what do we do now?" he finally spoke, his voice wobbly and quiet.

"i don't know!" you snapped again, raising your hands over your head. "it's your mess."

"please, y/n." he begged, running a hand through his hair. "what can i do to fix this?"

"i..." you trailed off, staring at the whole scene again. "shit, carl."

you walked into the bathroom at your side and threw a towel and bucket of water out to him. "clean it up." you said before turning around to walk out of the house.

"wait." he called out.

"what?"

"are you going to tell anyone.. what i did?" his voice sounded scary, but terrified.

"not if you don't get caught." you sighed. "forge a note, hide their bodies, whatever. i'm not apart of this anymore."

carl nodded somberly. "i'm sorry."

you left the house.

...

things weren't normal at all after that day. i mean, why would they be? carl hid what happened the best he could, actually taking your advice to forge a note. you kept your word and stayed silent. jessie was a mess after that day, unsure why her boy and his best friend 'left alexandria.'

you didn't know how to feel about carl anymore. he loved you still, as far as you could tell, but you couldn't understand your feelings for him.

you knew you still loved him despite everything. but you felt as if you couldn't forgive him for taking away the first friend your age you'd made, and taking jessies son away from her.

he was basically just some sort of bloody valentine to you.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

“Atlas! Thank god you’re here, you have to save me!” Lex grabs me by the arm as soon as I walk in, pulling me away from my desk.

“What’s going on?” I ask, confused.

“If I never hear the word ‘aspen’ again, it’ll be too soon. Please talk about anything else.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She’s being dramatic,” Asher assures me, “I was just telling her about—”

“Nooope! That’s it, I’m going for a walk.” Lex throws up her hands and storms off, taking me by surprise.

I turn to Asher who rolls his eyes, laughing, and ask again, “What’s going on?”

He smiles to me, “Do you know what an aspen tree is?”

“They’re like birch trees, right?”

“No! I mean, kind of, they both have white bark and black markings, but no,” he turns to pull them up on his computer, and I glance over his shoulder while he talks excitedly, “With the aspens, the bark itself is alive and performs photosynthesis, in fact, if you look closely, it has a green tint to it. And the black marks are unique. They self-prune their branches, leaving behind these distinct black scars that look like eyes, which is going to look so fucking cool when we’re done. And the leaves! So, they call them quaking aspens, do you know why?”

“No, why?”

He shows me a few close-ups of small yellow leaves, “They’re these delicate heart shapes,” he explains, “so even the tiniest breeze makes them tremble and, well, quake. Hence, quaking aspen. So, in this level, we’re making a maze in a quaking aspen forest, right, and oh my god, when they’re animated and placed in game, they’re going to look fucking amazing! Like, these magnificent, tall trees that, when you’re in them, can be kinda creepy right, but if you look up toward the top, they’re beautiful the way they seem to shimmer in the sun. They’re just… the coolest fucking tree.” He starts to laugh at himself, “Anyway, what do you think?”

“It looks great! Is this really what Lex was so upset about?”

“I may have been obsessing over them a bit for the last week or so. I think she’s finally had enough. Perks of living with me, I guess.”

“I see. You know, where I grew up, we had maple trees all along our street.”

“Yeah? Like the ones with the massive leaves?”

“No, they were, um, sugar maples so the leaves were smaller, but in the fall, they’d get bright red. I remember, as a kid, playing in these giant piles of red leaves. I loved it.” I’m surprised as I smile at the memory. It’s the first time I’ve ever thought of my past and felt anything close to fondness or nostalgia. “Anyway, I should get to work.”

“Sure. Yeah, me too.”

Just as I’m getting settled at my desk, a notification pops up in the corner of my screen: “1 New Message”

Asher: hey, I meant to ask you Asher: are you going to geek con this weekend? Atlas: I don’t know, maybe Asher: well if you end up going text me and we can meet up Asher: [redacted] Atlas: Sure. I’ll let you know

I pick up my phone and save his number, checking it against the screen three times to ensure I’ve got it right, and then set it back down with a smile.

I guess I’m going to Geek Con.

Prev // Next

[softberrybi]

A quick note...

Hello from your local AuDHD switch verse bisexual. I'm on this corner of the internet to have fun and spiral into whatever current hyperfixation has me by the throat.

Minors, please don't interact. My blog is for people 18+. I'm a big advocate for sex education and curiosity, and my particular Tumblr page just isn't the space for that. If you're looking for an age appropriate resource, I highly recommend checking out Scarleteen. It's a wonderful site dedicated to providing medically accurate and queer inclusive information about relationships, sex, identity, and so on.

My asks and messages are open. Wanna be friends??? Feel free to message me any timmmmme. If you’re looking to be flirty, please be respectful. Opening with nudes or demanding nudes or sexting is just not the move, okay? I've been involved in the kink community for many years and have met so many wonderful people, so my tolerance is very low for people who hide behind kink as an excuse to be shitty. Also, I have a queue going, so posts appearing doesn’t mean I’m actually online.

Please note I’m wary of porn blogs with no other content, and I hear the Jaws theme song in my head whenever I get one word messages in my inbox because those “hey” or “hi” openers tends to escalate quickly without my consent. Again, be chill. If I get a weird vibe at all, the block button and I are besties.

Be a kind person, okay? Transphobes, terfs, swerfs, antifeminists, racists, ableists, fatphobes, bigoted jerks DNI. Honestly, get well soon and cut that shit out.

If I ever accidentally interact with something I shouldn’t or tag something in a way that doesn’t feel good, please let me know so I can edit or delete immediately. I respect you.

🌶️ spicy info under the cut 🌶️

Being a verse switch is so fun, okay? I'm attracted to people regardless of gender, and it's just so fun to make people feel good.

I use the traffic light system (💚💛🛑) for consent check-ins. Here is my Yes/No list for both giving and receiving unless otherwise specified:

Yes - praise/worship, puppy play, edging/denial, overstimulation, biting/marking, puppy play, teratophilia rp, impact play (just not face slapping/hitting), gfd, daddy/mommy kink (just no age play or incest rp), strap play / pegging, breeding kink

I think it’s also worth mentioning that there are types of play that I’m happy to engage in even if I’m not personally turned on by them. Examples include foot fetish / nylon fetish play and tickling (as long as I’m not the one getting tickled; that’s a hard no for me)

Sometimes - I don’t really post about any of these on this blog, and if I do, I will be sure to tag those posts. I sometimes enjoy objectification, degradation, humiliation, light CNC, helping a partner enjoy some light CBT, e-stim, watersports (especially during primal/possessive play)

No thanks - Heavy CNC that involves genuine fear play, scat, age play, race play, pro-ED anything, misgendering/detrans, vore, gore (some blood is okay, but gore makes me feel faint), intox/chem, permanent harm/scarring, incest rp

Obvious no (and instant report and block) to actual assault or endangering anyone who can’t consent (e.g. anything to do with minors, bestiality, and so on)

This should go without saying, but if you have a partner / partners who will be hurt by you playing with someone else, please don’t flirt or try to play with me. I’m only down to play with folks engaging in ENM or single folks, okay? Be nice to your partner(s).

Also, since this has been coming up in my asks and dms quite a bit, I’m not looking for a sugar situation. I will just delete the ask/message 🤷‍♀️ Thanks!

[runnning-outof-time]

“I just need some quiet.” With Arthur 🧡💛

Congrats again friend!!

Thanks for sending this my way, Madelyn! I’m so excited to get some more Arthur in the mix here - I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!

Worth Much More

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 1077

Summary: (Y/N) offers some comfort to Arthur after he comes home distraught and thinking erratically.

The sound of the door slamming made (Y/N) jump, and she was sitting up straight on the couch within seconds. She quickly looked around, now acutely aware of her surroundings. Nothing seemed off in the sitting room, but the loud crash that came from the front room had her up and moving, her mind immediately going to the worst.

She was only slightly relieved when she saw what was waiting for her in the other room. Arthur stood only a few feet from the door, his palms pressed into his eyes as he heaved deeply. A quick glance to the floor told her that the loud sound she’d heard was the table that sat next to the door, which was now on the floor.

“Arthur,” she called out to him, hoping he’d lower his hands and acknowledge her. He didn’t. “Arthur,” she tried again, a little louder this time. Nothing. “Arthur!” now she was shouting.

“What?! Fucking what?!” Her raised voice did the trick, making him drop his arms and snap back at her, his eyes filled with rage. She didn’t need to ask to know something was wrong.

But she did anyway: “what’s happened, Arthur?” she spoke in a soft voice.

“Nothing, I…” he paused, clenching his hands into fists in hopes to curtail what he was feeling. His wife wasn’t the cause of his anger, she didn’t deserve to suffer from it. But at the moment, he felt like he couldn’t put it aside.

“Arthur?” she softly prodded him to continue, the stare he was wearing making her slightly more uncomfortable with each second that passed.

He squeezed his eyes shut as she spoke, using everything within him not to snap. She doesn’t deserve it, he kept telling himself, thankful that some rationality was still present in his mind whilst everything else was being painted over red. “(Y/N), fuck, I can’t, I…” his words came out through gritted teeth as he tried to convey his feelings in the calmest way possible. “Not right now, please, ok? I just need some quiet.”

(Y/N) blinked a few times, holding her gaze on him as she let the words sink in. She knew better than to continue at him for the information, and she was thankful that he’d so far managed to keep his emotions in check. So she nodded and softly said: “ok. Ok, Arthur. I’ll give you some quiet.”

Arthur nodded after hearing what she said. The two held each other’s gaze for a few moments longer before he broke it and moved to the steps of the home. (Y/N) watched him go, waiting until he disappeared upstairs to return to the sitting room. A heavy sigh left her lips as she sat down, her mind now running wild with the possibilities of scenarios that caused her husband to act like this.

She let him take the time he needed though and after waiting an hour, she slowly ascended the stairs. She listened for any sound as she walked down the hall, but was only met with silence. After three, quick knocks on the wood, she turned the knob and opened the door. Arthur was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands.

He didn’t notice her enter the room, so when he felt a hand on his knee, he sucked in a deep breath and lifted his head. Her kind eyes instantly met his, and something about them served to instantly quell some of the hurt he’d been feeling.

“Do you want to talk?” she asked him, her eyebrows lifting slightly. “Get anything off your chest?”

Arthur took a deep breath and held it for a moment, knowing that it would be good if he spoke about things instead of bottling them up. He began to speak as he exhaled, “my dad, he, uh…” he paused, running a hand through his hair, “he left town. He took the fuckin’ money I gave him and he left town. I caught him on the platform. He—he was lying about the plan he had…” he ended with another sigh, shaking his head as he dropped his gaze to the floor.

(Y/N) bit her lip as she mulled over the information. She instantly felt terrible for her husband.

Arthur Sr. had sought out his estranged family the second after sauntered back into Small Heath, hoping to put a bug in their ear. It worked with Arthur, and he was immediately roped into this grand scheme of opening a casino in Atlantic City. Tommy told Arthur not to trust it; not to buy into their old man’s schemes. But Arthur didn’t listen. He was determined to show that he also could make smart decisions and legitimate moves. Now was obvious that his choices had blown up in his face.

“I…I’m sorry to hear that, Arthur,” she offered her sympathy to him, gently squeezing his thigh.

“I waited for him, (Y/N),” he stated, pain clear in his voice, “I bloody waited for him just to find out he was takin’ our money and leaving town.”

“You’ll do better without him. You didn’t need his ideas to help you get ahead.”

“I’ve fucked things up for the business,” he sighed, not listening to his wife’s words, “and I ain’t worth much anyway.”

“Don’t say that, Arthur,” (Y/N) was disagreeing with his statement in seconds, “you are worth so much…much more than some money.”

Arthur lifted his eyes to meet hers, seeing that she had an assured look on her face. It was one that made his heart swell just upon seeing it. “Yeah, well…” he paused, a dejected chuckle leaving his lips as he shook his head at his thought, “it’s gonna cost me an arm and a leg to make things right after this.”

“I’m sure it won’t take that much,” she responded, allowing the slightest smile to form on her face as she picked up on the dry humor that was present in his statement.

Seeing her smile made Arthur smile, which in turn made her squeeze his thigh again.

The pain of the betrayal he’d been through that day would linger over the next few days, maybe even weeks; Arthur knew that. But he was thankful that he’d have (Y/N) there to help him through it. He didn’t even want to think of what he would have done if it weren’t for her being there for him.

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @raincoffeeandfandoms @peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

MASTERLIST

[tedners]

as i’ve seen many people posting their thoughts and thank yous to fable smp here, i’ve decided that i would like to as well.

to the community:

i don’t think i’ve ever been so connected to a fandom space like this before. the fable community is genuinely a welcoming and kind group. in the discord server, i constantly see members uplifting and supporting each other and it’s always so sweet to see. you are all so incredibly talented as well. it’s also a joy to see the the different things you all create; whether it be art, cosplay, writing, edits, etc.

to the cast:

thank you for creating this wonderful and breathtaking world and story. each character and point of view has been so fascinating to watch and learn more about. as well, thank you for bringing together such an amazing community. i can’t wait to see what you all do in the future.

and, of course, to my fellow mods:

i adore each of you so so so much. it’s been incredible working with you so far; you make me proud to do what we do. thank you for all your hard work, all the laughs, and for being wonderful people i’m happy to call my friends.

if you haven’t already, please check out the fable smp appreciation project video! a big group of us came together to make this and i love it so much. it was edited by the wonderful ballerinamadi and features music by the incredible zenni; as well as fantastic art, cosplays, and words from a bunch of fable fans!

so one more time:

Thank you Fable SMP 💛

[nicbutnasty]

💛 gewis!!

Hello, thank you! And apologies for how long it took me to write ths one, but we got there in the end.

💛 reunion kiss/relief for George/Lewis | G | ~1K words

note: contains brief description of a fictional crash. George is mostly unharmed

It wasn’t a bad crash, all things considered. But still, Lewis can’t deny that his heart was in his mouth when the message came through on the radio. Car 63 in the barriers, DNF. George. That was over an hour ago now.

He would have been checked over by the medics and debriefed since then—nothing more than a few bruises and feeling a bit shaken up, supposedly—but Lewis needs to see for himself. Being a supportive teammate means offering comfort where he can, but maybe selfishly he needs to prove to himself that George is unharmed, to stop the way his heart kicks in his chest every time he thinks about it.

George would have done his own post-race interviews whilst the rest of them were still on track—Lewis knows how these things work by now—so as soon as he can extract himself from his own media duties, he finds himself standing outside George’s driver’s room. 

The door is slightly ajar, so Lewis knocks once and tentatively pushes it open. George is perched awkwardly there on the black vinyl sofa, as if a stranger in his own room. He looks so much smaller than he did in front of the crowds earlier that day, his lithe frame contorted into a protective curl, all elbows and knees, head in his hands. Something in Lewis’ heart clenches in sympathy at the sight. 

“Hey, George?” Lewis calls softly.

Wordlessly, George looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and watery.

Lewis crosses the room in a few strides, carefully sits next to him on the sofa. Now he’s closer, he can see George is trembling slightly, hear his breath coming out in quiet shudders. He gently wraps an arm around George, hoping for comfort rather than scaring him off.

He shouldn’t have worried, because George immediately leans into it, turning his head so his face is buried in Lewis’ shoulder. His fireproofs are probably all damp and sweaty, but George doesn’t seem to mind, just clings to Lewis like  a lifeline as his shuddering breaths turn to sharp, choking gasps. Lewis clutches him tightly, all the worry he’d pushed down in order to complete the race now bubbling up with the relief of having George here in his arms. 

Lewis rubs calming circles on George’s back, bringing his other hand to the nape of George’s neck to run his fingers through the soft hair there. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs, “It’s okay Georgie, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Slowly George’s breathing begins to even out. Lewis continues to hold him, stroking his back and murmuring soft nothings to him, until George suddenly pulls away with a jolt.

“I’m– I’m sorry,” he stammers out, scrubbing his face with his hands, “You shouldn’t have to–”

Lewis catches his hands and gently pulls them into George’s lap, where they flutter momentarily like a captive bird before stilling. George keeps his eyes lowered, body hunched over, as if ashamed.

“But I want to,” Lewis interrupts softly. He absently brushes his thumbs over the inside of George’s wrists, where the delicate veins show in blues and greens through the skin, a tangible reminder that George is alive and unharmed. Lewis takes a steadying breath. “Oh George,” he sighs fondly, “when I heard, I was so worried. I wanted to make sure you were okay, see if I could help.”

George finally looks up at him with his big wet eyes, lashes clumped together with tears. Lewis thinks he’s never looked so beautiful. “But why?” he asks.

“Because I care about you, man.” George doesn’t look convinced, so Lewis continues, “I do, I swear. Not just because we’re teammates or whatever, but because you’re you. You’re incredible, man, and every day I swear to god I’m thankful I know you. You’re talented, you’re kind-hearted, and you’re beautiful, and I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you in my life, but I–” He feels a lump in his own throat, huffs out a wet sort of laugh, “Well, I’m not questioning it.”

Lewis releases George’s wrists to cradle his face in his hands, thumbing away an errant tear. George’s eyes have gone wide and glassy now, cheeks flushed and mouth parted slightly, as if stunned Lewis could even think about him that way. Well, he can’t have that, can he?

Lewis leans in slightly, hoping he’s not crossing a line. But George, sweet George, always there to meet him where he’s at, follows his lead, his eyelids fluttering shut.

The kiss is tentative at first, George yielding easily. Lewis can taste the salt of shed tears on his lips, licks at the seam of them and George opens easily, malleable under Lewis’ careful attention. He gasps into the kiss as Lewis sucks at his lower lip, one hand coming up to fist in Lewis’ shirt. Lewis likes George like this, he thinks. Open, expressive, not afraid to show what he needs. 

Lewis pulls back slightly and George automatically chases him, swaying towards Lewis, lips parted. His eyes flutter open in momentary confusion and Lewis can feel him tense slightly, as if preparing for rejection.

Whatever he sees in Lewis’ face must reassure him though, as George settles back into his arms. 

“Hello,” Lewis murmurs.

“Hi,” George breathes. His lips are kiss-swollen and he’s flushed pink from cheeks down below the neckline of his shirt. Lewis idly wonders how far that flush extends.

A loud thunk from outside breaks the moment, followed by laughter and good-natured jeers of the pit crew. Beyond the room, the whole paddock is packing up and shipping out for the next race. As lovely as it is right here together on George’s tiny vinyl sofa, they can’t stay. 

Lewis pushes himself up off the sofa with a soft groan, extending a hand to George. “Come on, let’s get you back to the hotel and in your pyjamas.”

George takes his hand but remains sitting for a moment, looking up at Lewis with something akin to hope in his eyes. “Will you– will you stay?” he asks.

Lewis laughs softly. “Yes, of course I will,” he reassures, giving George’s hand a tug for good measure. 

This time, George goes willingly, keeping Lewis’ hand clutched tightly in his, whilst he reaches for his bag with the other. 

There’s the early morning flight back home tomorrow, a couple days to rest, then straight back on the plane to the hustle and bustle of the next race, the next country. But tonight, in the comfort of George’s clean hotel sheets, they’ve got all the time in the world.

[luveline]

hi jade ! is this too early to request ? can i pretty please ask for some jonathan byers x shy!reader who is about to meet will for the first time but they really get along ? thank you so much !!💛💛

thank you for your request! jonathan x shy!fem!reader <3

You’re frozen in the car, staring down at your lap. You’re about half an hour early in the parking lot of the diner you and Jonathan agreed on for a kind-of date. There’s a scagged thread on the side of your pant leg. Jonathan probably won’t notice, and his younger brother Will certainly won’t, but it’s another small disaster to weigh the scale down. Today is a failure, and Will is going to hate you.

A gentle knock against the window. It scares you senseless, so highly strung that you flinch into the console and almost wind yourself. Jonathan waits for you to recognise him on the other side of the window so as not to scare you further, pulling open the driver's door.

“What happened?” he asks, generous considering he’d seen the whole thing. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, sorry. Here, let me help.”

You take his offered hands and he practically pulls you out of the car and onto your feet. When you’re standing on firm-footing, his hand strays to your side, though there’s nothing he can do. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine,” you breathe. “You’re early.”

He laughs. It’s charming enough to calm you down, his warm cadence. “I’m early? No, I told you the wrong time so I could come and rescue you from overthinking city.”

You stiffen.

Jonathan checks you over quickly. His eyes find that tiny scagged thread on the outer side of your pant leg, and he takes it between two fingers, snapping it off sharply. His gaze tracks back up to your face. He smiles fondly at your horrified expression.

“I left him inside.” He takes your face into his hands. “Everything is fine. Everything will be fine. Will’s just like me. Well, mostly.”

“Teenagers are mean,” you say.

“Not Will. I’m sorry for lying to you. I figured it would be easier if you didn’t have time to worry about what could go wrong. But you don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready.”

Jonathan squishes your cheeks gently.

“No, I am. I’m not–” You pull the brakes, comforted by the warmth of his hands as they fall to your shoulders. “I was in my head, that’s all. And I’m excited to meet him, I promise.”

“Okay, good. He’s excited to meet you.”

You smooth one of his hairs away from his eyes without thinking. He noticeably melts, flustered by your rare but easy affection.

You and Jonathan make your way inside of the diner. You spot Will without instruction, a mop of mousy brown hair against the red velvet of a corner booth. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be — Jonathan always calls him his ‘little’ brother, but Will looks firmly within his late teens. He’s smiling as soon as he sees you.

He’s like me, Jonathan’d said without hesitation. He must be lovely, in that case.

“Hey,” Jonathan says, greeting his brother. They share a smile, and you have the peculiar feeling that they’d talked about how this moment would go before you arrived. “Will, this is Y/N. Y/N, Will.”

“Hi,” you say, not weak so much as meek, trying hard to be a grown up and missing the mark.

“Hey,” he says back.

Jonathan ushers you into the booth and sits beside you. His hand doesn’t go for your thigh but your wrist, pulling your arm into his lap so you can’t pick nervously at your nails. He knows you too well sometimes.

“It’s really great to meet you,” you say. You sound, regrettably, as terrified as you look.

“You, too. Jonathan doesn’t shut up about you, it’ll be nice to picture your face while he waxes.”

You turn to Jonathan. He shakes his head in bemusement. You know he doesn’t mind being the punching bag while you break the ice, because that’s the kind of guy he is. You slip your fingers between his and stroke the back of his hand with his thumb, looking down at his pale skin for a stolen, steadying moment.

You look up. “He doesn’t shut up about you, either. He told me about your club? Art for the disadvantaged? I was really impressed, do you…”

Talking to Will isn’t as hard as you feared it would be. Jonathan makes it easier, diving in to save you from any social faux pas you might make now you’re getting older. Teenagers speak in tongues, but Will truly is as kind and funny as his brother described, and you never once feel like he’s looking down on you.

Talking to people is hard. You don’t really enjoy putting yourself out there, or making conversation with unfamiliar people, but Will is such a big part of Jonathan’s life that you’re more than glad to do it. You fight your shyness, and you’re still awkward, disjointed, under-versed in social norms, but you make do.

You get along. By the time his friends swing by to grab him for the roller derby, you’re feeling downright overjoyed.

You smile and wave at Will as he leaves. A weight falls off of your shoulders.

You haven’t half turned to Jonathan when you’re being apprehended. He pushes you down into the booth seat, lifted off of one thigh with his hands in your hair.

“You. are. amazing,” he praises, dotting kisses all over your face.

Your giggle are slow as thick honey, breathless when his fingers slide behind your ear. He anchors you in place; there’s no escape for you, your face perfectly tilted to receive his slow, appreciative kiss. You lavish in his tenderness, but soon remember where you are and duck away from him.

“I knew you’d be amazing,” he says, hand falling from the curve of your neck to clasp your forearm. He’s almost insistent in his praise. “Thank you, honey.”

You nod bashfully. “No problem,” you mumble.

Jonathan kisses your hot cheek. His affection makes it all worth it.

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 21: Shameless

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: NSWF, language, smut, sex, p in v penetration, no condom, biting

* Word count: 3,350ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all!

Special mention: @deanscroissant & @lexixstewart and the couple friends who don’t have tumblr so I can’t tag them, for giving me their honest opinions on the smut because, y’all I blacked out 💀💀😂

Author's note: Oh shit y’all! We’re here! 👀 I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! Pretend in the gif that’s Stella and they’re inside and not in the forest 😅😂. Also please be gentle. This is my first attempt at writing smut and being serious with myself 😂

I’m posting this a day early because I’m nervous and ripping the bandaid off lmao. Also sinful things on a Sunday are a hilarious juxtaposition to me lmao. So feel free to comment or hit my ask box and flail with me lol. Just please be kind. 🤓💛

Stella rutched around in the waiting room chair. Her phone went off with a text from Ryan. Any update on Mr. Dutton?

She and Kayce had been here for quite a few hours. His dad was out of surgery and resting. John's current nurse just told Kayce he was allowed to go back and talk to him for a few minutes. She replied quickly. Out of surgery. Finally able to go talk to him. BRB.

She reached out for Kayce’s hand. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Kayce contemplated. “Sure.” He squeezed her hand and guided her along through the big double doors to the room he was told. When they got to the door, he paused.

Stella turned and checked him out. He hesitated to go in. “Hey,” she reached out for Kayce and pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her. “Everything is gonna be okay.” He hid his face in her neck. She gently rubbed his back. She whispered to him. “We’ll go in when you’re ready.”

He let out a hard sigh. “Let’s go.”

The pair walked through the door. They peeked around to the right at John's bed. He looked like he was fast asleep. Stella directed Kayce to the chair next to the bed.

The legs of the chair made a dragging noise and that seemed to perk Kayce’s dad up. “Who the hell is trying to bother me now?” He grumbled.

The friends shared a chuckle. Kayce reached out for his dad’s hand. “It’s just me and Stella, dad.”

“Hey, John.” She announced her presence since his eyes were still partly closed.

“So when did they say I could leave?” John started messing around with his blankets.

Kayce jumped to his feet to try and stop John from getting up. Stella rounded the bed to help on the other side. Kayce instructed his dad. “Woah woah woah. You ain’t leavin’ tonight, that’s for sure.” John still must have been under the effects of whatever medicines they had him on because he stopped fighting against them easily. Kayce smiled at his dad. “We’ll discuss all of that in the morning.”

“Are you going back home?”

“I can stay if you want.”

John looked up at Stella. It shook her, seeing him vulnerable. A memory of her dad floated through. “Stella get him home. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Stella laughed through her nose. “I’ll do my best, sir.” Someone knocked on the door behind them.

“Excuse me guys. Visiting hours are over. The nurses need in here to prepare him for the night.”

Stella approached the nurse. “Can we give them like five more minutes? Then I promise I’ll get us out of your hair.”

The nurse sighed. “Okay, sure. But only five more minutes and I’ll be back.”

“Thank you!” Stella moved to Kayce who was still standing at his father’s bed. “Hey I got you five more minutes. I’ll be right outside the door, okay?” She looked at John. “And you, sir, get to feelin’ better.” There was a gruff chuckle in response. Kayce grabbed her hand before she could leave. The two locked eyes, but didn’t say anything. Stella smiled and Kayce slowly let her hand go to continue talking to his dad.

She walked out of the door and leaned against the wall to wait for Kayce. She had to figure out how to convince the youngest Dutton to leave the hospital for the night. Looking around, she remembered how much she hated being in a hospital. Memories of before she and Ryan ran away came back. All the hospital visits for not only their own injuries, but when their dad got sick. When John had looked up at her from the bed, it was like she saw her dad all over again. She shook her head to clear the thoughts.

Thinking of Ryan, she messaged him back. He’s alright. In as rare a form as ever. I’m gonna take Kayce back to my house, if I can convince him, so he can actually sleep. You need anything?

The team of nurses came around the corner, ready to settle John in for the night. Stella reached behind her and knocked on the door to let Kayce know his time was almost up for the evening. Thankfully he came to the door, smiled politely at the nurses, and grabbed Stella’s hand.

Back out in the waiting room, Kayce sat again with Stella next to him. He still hadn’t let go of her hand. Anyone could see that he was an anxious ball of nerves. Stella rubbed her thumb across his hand. “Kayce?” He looked at her. “Let’s go back to my house.” She said softly.

“Stella, I don't know if I should leave.”

She fixed her glasses with her opposite hand. “I understand your fear of leaving him here. But he’s in the safest place he can be, with the best help in the state. They have your number. They’ll call if they need anything. There’s nothing we can do right now anyway.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “He doesn’t seem like he’s gonna be too much trouble tonight. You need to rest and I guarantee you aren’t gonna do that here.”

She pleaded to him. “My house is closer than the ranch. I’ll even let you use the bed tonight.”

“Okay, but —,” Kayce started saying, but Stella butted in.

“But if they call we’ll leave at the drop of a hat. I’ll also bring you back here bright and early too.” They started to stand.

“Wait, who said you’re driving?”

“I did.” She giggled. “I also still have the keys.” Stella jangled them at him. He tried to swipe them and Stella ran through the main hospital door. He watched her as she dashed for the truck. Kayce laughed to himself because they both knew he’d let her drive.

Ryan answered as Stella clicked her seat belt into place in the truck. Nah, I’m good. You be safe and take care of Kayce.

Stella joked walking into her house. “Man, I feel like this is déjà vu.”

“Stella, it was yesterday.”

She let out a laugh. “Can’t have any fun with you, can I?”

“Now you know that’s a bold faced lie.” Kayce took off his boots and placed his hat on the table.

They both just stood there. Not really sure what step was next. Stella motioned up the stairs. “Well, I guess we should get some shut eye, right?”

“Is this the first time we’re meeting or something?” Kayce smirked.

“Shut up, you doofus.” Stella laughed as the awkwardness dissolved. “C’mon.” She climbed the stairs.

However, once in her room, the bashfulness returned for Stella. Yeah they used to sleep together wherever they fell when they were younger, but being in the same bedroom as Kayce felt different. Now that she thought about it, being in a bedroom with Kayce always felt intimidating in a way.

Stella cleared her throat and offered. “Do you want the same clothes from the last night? I’m sure I’ve got some different ones?” She preoccupied herself picking things up around her room. It wasn’t messy, but there were some articles of clothing she didn’t want him to catch sight of, especially if she could nab them up before she turned the light on. Her cheeks flushed. ‘You really gotta start making sure you utilise the hamper.’

“Nah, the ones from the yesterday will be fine.”

“Okay I’ll go grab them for you.” She stopped herself so quickly she almost tripped. “Wait, where did you leave them?”

“Uhhh…,” Kayce tried to remember where he changed before they left. “I actually think I came up here to the bathroom.”

“Oh! I’ll be right back then. I just put the bedding on like, three days ago. So I can change it if you want, but it should be fine. I only slept on it once. I’ll take the couch tonight.” Stella babbled nervously.

Waltzing out of her bedroom she wanted to hit her own forehead. ‘You're literally acting like you’ve never spoken to him a day in your life. Stop being weird.’ She fixed her glasses and found the clothes where Kayce left them. They were neatly placed on the bathroom counter. She smiled at his manners slipping through. She grabbed them and walked back to her room to give them to Kayce.

“Thank you for —,” she stopped herself when she noticed he wasn’t in the middle of the room anymore where the light from the open door reached. Without a light on in the room, an oversight on her part, she couldn’t see shit. “Kayce?” The lamp on her bedside table painted the room with light.

“Damn!” Stella squinted. “Could’ve given a girl some warning.”

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to blind ya.”

Stella giggled. “It’s okay.” Her eyes focused on him. It was very apparent to Stella that Kayce had something on his mind. He was holding himself back from saying it. In a delicate tone she asked, “penny for your thoughts?”

He eyed Stella up and decided to take the leap. “Would it really bother you if they talked?”

Her head cocked to the side. “Do you mean about us?” Kayce nodded.

She stayed silent for a few seconds. Apparently her reaction to the potential of being caught crossing a line in their friendship still weighed on him. She assumed his thoughts on the matter were the same. To find out they weren’t and he wanted to push that boundary, floored her. Slowly, but surely, she shook her head. “No. They’ve always talked about us, you know that. So regardless of what we do or don’t do, they’re gonna talk. Whether it’s us, or someone else; their jaws are gonna be flappin’ like old ladies on a Sunday in a salon.” The only person she knew she would catch serious flak from would be her brother or Rip. “So no. I don’t care.”

Kayce’s shoulders dropped. Whether it was relief or not, Stella didn’t know. Kayce nodded quickly. He didn’t give her time to figure it out.

He uttered a gravelly, “good,” before he stepped across the room in three long strides to her. He grabbed her face and they collided. Stella unceremoniously dropped the clothes she still had in her hand. She trailed her hands to his sides and pulled him closer while she scrunched his shirt in her hands.

“Fuck, Kayce. What’re we doing?” Stella mumbled against his mouth. Her mind felt like a dense fog had draped over it.

“Are you okay with it?” He brought his head back slightly and touched his forehead to hers. Nervous he’d gone too far.

She said breathlessly, shaking her head forcefully. “Yeah.” Kayce moved his arms to give her more space. Stella leaned into him and wound her fingers in his hair. She brought his face back to hers.

Kayce trailed his hands down her sides. Past her sore side, her hips, and wrapped them around the backs of her thighs. He squeezed and pulled her up. She let out a gasp and she circled her legs around his waist. He braced her and walked to her bed. She tossed her glasses off to the side. ‘I’ll find them in the morning.’

Gently he laid her down, her legs still around him. Looking up at him through half lidded eyes, she smiled and brushed some hair out of his face. Stella was taken back by how Kayce was looking at her with wonder. If she wasn’t already breathless she would have the wind knocked out of her. It was like he was seeing her with new eyes.

He was enamored by her at that moment. Her hair started to come loose and her lips were swollen from all the attention. The way she smiled up at him made him dive back in. “God,” he breathed.

The scratchy feeling of his facial hair gave her arms goosebumps as he chose a spot on her collarbone to pay attention to. Her eyes fell shut. Kayce moved back causing her legs to fall apart and grabbed the hem of her shirt. He gave it a pull upward. He remembered what happened the last time he gave too much exploration to the visible part of her neck, so he would go lower. Slowly the bruise on her side from the bull came into view. He placed several featherlight kisses along it. “No more cowboy poker. Ya hear me?” He examined the large doe and flowers tattoo that was partially covered in a bruise on her side that matched his buck and gave it a kiss.

“Who’s gonna stop me?” She asked playfully while removing her shirt the rest of the way.

Kayce pulled her down to be eye level. “I will.”

“Are you threatening me, Kayce Dutton?” She laughed.

“No, it's a promise.”

Her eyebrows popped up. “Oh really?”

Kayce placed a soft kiss on the left side of her chest and the scar that resided there. “Really.”

The kiss to the sensitive skin made Stella’s eyes flutter closed. He nipped at her collar bone above the scar. Stella let out a sigh. He worked his way down to the top of her pants. He tapped her stomach to gain her focus. When Stella’s heavy lidded eyes met his, there was a silent question of whether she wanted to keep going because there wouldn’t be much turning back they could do after this.

Stella nodded, but knew he needed to hear it. “Yes Kayce.” He smiled up at her and it took her breath away. He worked the belt loose and the button, and gave Stella room to shimmy her pants down far enough that he could yank them farther down. When they got far enough, she kicked them the rest of the way off, underwear included.

Kayce climbed fully on the bed on top of her. She took a moment to appreciate feeling small and safe. Reaching down she grabbed the bottom of his shirt. She pulled it and frowned. “Off please, too many clothes,” she mumbled.

He sat up straight and yanked his shirt off. When he leaned back down Stella grabbed at his torso, wanting to feel his skin beneath her fingers. He wasn’t cut like most people expected cowboys to be. He had a nice layer that made him soft. Stella dug her fingers into his hips at the top of his waistband.

He quickly stood back off the bed. Stella thought she had done something wrong, but realized it was the exact opposite. Kayce desperately made quick work of his jeans and boxer briefs. She scrambled to sit up and took off the black lace bralette that remained of her clothes. She barely had time to register that he sprang free from the hold his boxer briefs had on him before he was crawling back to her. It was apparently now or never.

Her heart pounded in her chest as he trapped her under his body weight. She could feel his hand drift down between them. He stopped at her breasts to give her nipples a quick pinch, which brought out a breathless moan of his name from Stella. His rough fingertips deftly drifted lower to her entrance. They dipped in between her folds collecting the slick that had built up and spread it up to her clit. He gave a few slow circles around it coaxing a moan from Stella. He grabbed his throbbing cock and pumped a few times. He slid himself through her slick and let himself drive home slowly until he felt the resistance of her cervix.

They both moaned, almost in relief, as he slid home. It had been a while since Stella had been with anyone. It was tight on the way in, and that made her feel all the more full. She placed her feet flat on the bed and squeezed his hips with her bent knees. When she did his hips thrusted ever so slightly and made her completely lose all sense and inhibition. She draped her arms around the back of his neck and found his lips and kissed him greedily. “Fuck, Kayce. Please move.”

He dragged his cock out slow, savoring the feeling of her, and then pumped it back in, hitting her cervix every time. Small moans puffed out of Stella’s mouth each time he connected and she bounced. He hit her back wall hard, but at the same angle every time. “Jesus fuck, oh my god.” Her eyes rolled back and shut. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Kayce gave her a quick and hard two taps, ripping her out of her head with a moan. It was almost like he knew.

He locked eyes with her, despite the closeness, and guided her. “Stay with me baby.” If Stella was able to form a cognitive thought, she would have been drooling. He slipped his arm behind her back and scooted her up farther on her bed so she could lay her head on her pillows. He sat up, bracing her legs on his thighs and placed his hands behind her knees. He continued the rhythm but picked up the pace. He bent toward her, bringing her knees with him.

She gasped at the new angle. “Oh shit.” Her hands reached up to grab any part of him she could. She tried to get to his hips to convince him to move faster. “Faster Kayce. Please.”

His hips slammed at a new pace and Stella swore she saw the universe. Small moans of, ‘oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck, oh fuck,’ slipped out of her as her eyes rolled back again. Kayce put her calves on his shoulders and leaned down to kiss her. Stella thought for certain she would combust at how deep she could feel him.

In this position, with every thrust that he gave her he could feel her cunt squeeze him back, almost pleading with him to stay. “Shit Stella,” he whispered against her mouth. “You like that huh?”

“Oh fuck yes.” Stella breathed out. “I’m close Kayce, keep going,” she panted, pleading, “don’t stop.” Kayce was more than happy to oblige and kicked it up a notch. He panted as his hips snapped against hers. Stella grappled to get any sort of leverage as he manhandled her while he focused on chasing that delicious high. He bit roughly at the base of her neck where it connected to her shoulder and a delighted moan released from both of them.

A few more sharp thrusts and both of them shattered. Stella saw stars erupt behind her eyes and she forced them back open to see Kayce. The look on his face was absolute bliss and she felt a swell in her chest. Both of them moaned each other's names, caught on the high tide. They grabbed at each other trying to tether themselves back in reality.

Stella dropped her legs from his shoulders feeling herself twitch every so often. Kayce remained on top of her trying to catch his breath. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed the side of his head.

They laid there, still entangled in each other. Kayce laid on her chest, her hand running through his hair. She felt peace. Stella let out a big yawn.

Kayce encircled her and moved them so they were laying next to each other. Her head and hand were placed on his chest. She remained quiet. Trying to figure out just what the hell had gotten into her. Into both of them, really. There were no complaints from her, but the whiplash was real.

Stella softly tapped his chest. “We should get some sleep.” She said slowly. To Kayce it sounded like she was half asleep already. “We gotta be up early.” Kayce remained quiet. Tilting her head, she glanced up at him.

“You know you don’t have to use the couch anymore, right?” He smirked at her.

He felt her nod. “I know, but I wanna give you your space.”

Kayce pulled a face. “You’re worried about space? I was just inside you. Space went out the window then.” He laughed.

“Okay okay, fine,” she laughed along with him. “You just don’t wanna sleep alone, do you?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay. I’ll stay.” Stella moved her head to get comfortable again. “Can you turn out the light?”

[loveandleases]

Hi again, Lea! 

Got another question/scenario ask for you: what would a day at an amusement park look like for a group trip with ROs and the MC? Like who’s rushing off to get in line for the roller coaster, who’s definitely checking out the haunted house, who’s content to just chill at the merry-go-round, what do they do when they get some time alone with MC at the top of the Ferris wheel?

Thanks again and may the words you seek come to you in a flash!

Hiya Alby! I love this ask, and the words did come to me in a flash!

Below the cut ~

❤️ Cam - The first stop for Cam is for food. He will try to eat something from every booth. Get sick halfway through, then finish the others. Cam will want to attempt the rollercoaster he will be too queasy from overeating, and instead settle for something else. Ferris Wheel he loves it. There were many times Cam would sit with MC and not let Chris, just to enjoy the moment together. If in crushing stage he might hint, about how he always wanted to just spend time with MC at the top, just stay there for as long as possible. Relationship stage, Cam will begin to tease MC. Whisper in their ear, kissing their neck.

💙 G - So they will much prefer the fun house, or merry-go-round. More laid-back things. G will happily watch you go on the rollercoaster and if you do they will win you some prizes to make up for not joining. Crushing stage G will be so awkward on the Ferris wheel. Trying to keep from touching MC, slightly flustered. It's something people on dates do, is this a date? Relationship G will just hold Mc's hand, until back on the ground when they give a soft kiss and mention they enjoy just spending time with MC...even at an amusement park.

💚 Kara - She doesn't exactly like them. There is always something spilled on the ground, people being rude and disrespectful in her personal space. If MC wants to go bad enough, she will go with them. She would like the booths that offer jewelry, or shirts things she can have to remember the day. You're not getting her on the Ferris wheel, doesn't look safe at all. How about going and listening to some live music so she can dance with you instead?

💛 M - Like a kid in a candy store! M will want to try all the rides and check all the booths. You will be stuck there for so long, I feel for you. They want the weird inflatable hammer you win, toss balls in nets sure, throw balls in pots for a fish!? Wait, they will forget to feed it maybe not that one. M would love the amusement park, their favorite part will be the haunted house. They will be clinging to MC screaming as loud as they can. You might think it was a bad idea to take them in, but once out they want to go again. M would be so nervous on the Ferris wheel, they will be reminded of the scene from the notebook. They would expect a kiss while on it, I mean it's kind of routine right?

💜 Isaac - Rollercoaster first one on it, strength game, highest score. Shoot the bottles for prizes, beat it fast. If MC wants prizes from the amusement park, Isaac is the person to take. They are competitive, they will make sure to get you what you want. They won't care so much for the rides, maybe one or two. Preferably something lowkey, I mean...they won't admit their eyeing the merry-go-round but. If they get alone time with MC while in the relationship stage, they would have a heart-to-heart about their mom. How she would bring them as a kid. Mention offhand if they ever have a kid, they would like to do the same.

🖤 Ardent - No, nope not going. Don't pout it's not cute (it is). Alright fine, but only for an hour (more like three). Ardent is like the dad of the amusement park, he has brought his niece so much. He knows what rides are the safest, which booths have the best food, and which games are rigged. Expect him to be in dad mode. You can get him to join you on the ferris wheel. Once you two get to the top he will just take a deep breath relax, and try to put an arm around you. Enjoy the scenery maybe a kiss, oh you want more than that? Naughty lil thing.

[lili0writes]

Hey!! Thank you for all of the David x reader content 😭💕💕 it makes me beyond happy to read since he's literally boyfriend material and a good boy in general.

If you're still taking requests could we get how our first kiss would go with him? Or stealing his jacket and his reaction to how cute you look in it?

Hope your day/night is going well!! 💛⚡ Remember to eat and hydrate!!

David Martinez dating scenarios

Note: Hey!! When I first saw your request I was so flattered honestly, thanks so much for being this kind! I have been waiting for e request like this for a while so I'm really excited, and if you'd like me to make a more detailed version of this of this let me know! I would be really happy to write for you again!!

Part 1 Part 2

TW: mention of drinking

Your first kiss together was a bit unsure, you were just nervous after confessing your feelings and him being totally taken by surprise.

You babbled on and on about how he shouldn't feel pressured into saying he feels the same, how much you liked him, and how sorry you were about dropping a bomb like that on him.

He was flabbergasted, he didn't even imagine that you, out of all the people would be the one to say that you love him.

After listening to you saying all that nonsense, he just leaned in and kissed you. He took you by surprise, but you did not complain. You just relaxed into the kiss, letting him take the lead.

After you became official, you later on decided to move in with him. Most of the time he spent away on jobs, so seeing each other got complicated without him living with you.

The time he could spend with you was usually where he went partying after jobs, or times where he took time off to be with you, which was pretty rare.

When you spent time together, he usually took you out to random places where there was a nice view to just talk, or go grab a drink or too. He would even just stay home with you either doing whatever you, or just stay in bed with you all day.

When he wasn't at home, you usually worked and had the news playing in the background. You were never interested in politics, or what the corps are advertising, but you listened just incase something happened that may involve the crew.

When you had free time and David wasn't at home, you did many things. You checked in with your friends, looked up new cyberwear on the market, played the guitar, etc.

But your favorite thing was to search through your shared closet. You'd sometimes find pictures of you from a long time ago or of people you knew. But you mostly just tried on clothes you either liked or didn't wear anymore.

After some time you started going through David's side of the closet, sometimes even trying on his jackets.

You were never really caught doing this because his signature clothes were always on him when he was away, leaving you with the clothes he wore at home.

Oh but soon enough your golden opportunity came.

One day David was in a rush to leave, because there was an emergency with the crew. And he was so caught up with hurrying out the door, that he didn't notice that he picked up the wrong jacket on the way out.

So then when you noticed this, a brilliant idea popped up in your your head. If he isn't here, then he won't know you tried it on. And if he doesn't know, then it won't hurt him, right?

You tried the jacket on. It was WAY too big for you. He was three times your size so you weren't surprised by that. But you still found yourself to be pretty cute in it.

Well little did you know, he eventually noticed that he was wearing the wrong jacket.

When he did you went back to your house and saw that the jacket wasn't where he left it originally. He searched around for a while and when he didn't find it he went up into your shared bedroom

And he walked right in on you checking yourself out in the mirror, with his jacket on you. He stood in the doorway for a moment staring at you. He didn't really know what to do. But ultimately he decided to approach you.

When you realized he was there, you were quick to take off the jacket. You gave it to him with a cheeky grin. He didn't know what to say. So he just smiled at you. Then he left.

After that, he gave you his jacket pretty often. Whenever you were out partying and wore something revealing, he would put his jacket on your shoulder just incase you got cold. And because he found you hot wearing something like that, and wearing his jacket over it.