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lizkreates · 9 months

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Reflection ~A Trigun fan comic~ (Comic Script in the Keep Reading)

Context note: This takes place just after the events of TriMax Vol 10 on Brad’s ship going to December. I’m giving them more time on the trip because Livio grew a full-ass beard between pickup and drop-off (prob because of his healing factor, who knows.) Enjoy!

Vash's coffee is a reference to my first comic Black Coffee & Donuts!

Comic Script for Reflection: A Trigun Fan Comic

PAGE 1

Panel 1: Vash, with his hair down and dressed in his black undersuit, wakes up startled in a cold sweat. He clearly slept poorly bags under his eyes. It’s only been a day or two since he laid Wolfwood to rest.

Panel 2: A full body shot of him stepping out of the bed, his Colt weight down his hip, face obscured.

Panel 3: He leans over the counter in front of a mirror, shoulders hunched, head hanging.

Panel 4: He looks up, hand covering the remaining blonde of his hair so it appears full black. Large pale portraits of Rem and Wolfwood flank Vash on each side in the background.

Vash: Rem, Wolfwood, you both sacrificed everything. Funny isn’t it that I’m beginning to look more like you?

PAGE 2

Panel 1: Vash flashes back to a moment when he and Wolfwood walked side by side in the arid desert of No Man’s Land.

Vash: Wolfwood, you were there every day by my side, now I'm alone again.

Panel 2: Another flashback to a moment Vash and Wolfwood sat on the edge of a rooftop and looked out over the cityscape to the stars pricking the sky.

Vash: There was so much unsaid between us.

Panel 3: A fresh flashback to the couch, where Vash held Wolfwood's hand in his final moments.

Vash: I wish I had known how to tell you that I loved you before it was too late.

Panel 4: A dramatic crop of half of Vash’s lower face, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cries out.

PAGE 3

Panel 1: Livio, a tall, tan, broad-shoulder, white-haired man with a tribal tattoo over his left eye, dressed in a white shirt and black pants, bursts through the bedroom door concerned.

Livio: Mr. Vash, I heard crying, are you okay?!

Panel 2: Vash looks over, a little comically rattled and surprised

Vash: Livio?

Panel 3: Close-up of Vash’s lower face smiling, a tear rolling down his face.

Vash: I’m alright.

Panel 4: A blank Panel, filled with still air

Vash: Actually.

Panel 5: Big Panel, Vash crying into the crook of his arm.

Vash: I'm not... I miss him. I can’t stop missing him.

PAGE 4

Panel 1: Vash rubs the tears from his eyes, Livio grabs his arm shamefully, his body language clearly showing regret and discomfort.

Livio: I’ll uh, leave you to it, and see myself out.

Vash: It’s okay, I just didn’t want anyone to see me like this.

Panel 2: Close-up of Livio looking down.

Livio: It’s better to let yer feelin’s out than to hide ‘em and let ‘em fester, I should know.

Panel 3: Livio turns to the side and a sad snot stream runs down his nose he was trying to keep in. Livio is very much struggling allowing himself to miss Wolfwood. He doesn’t feel like, he should even though he desperately does.

Sounds effects: sniff

Vash: Now who’s keeping in their feelings? Let it out! He was your friend too, wasn’t he? You deserve to cry too.

Panel 4: Livio smiles sheepishly. He wants to make Wolfwood proud of him first.

Livio: Yeah, I suppose he was, all this time. But I don’t think I’ve earned that right yet.

Panel 5: Livio’s stomach growls LOUDLY. Draw in a chibi style, breaking the tension.

Sound effects: grumble

Panel 6: Drawn in chibi style, Vash waves around his noddle arms and Livio’s mood brightens, grinning with excitement.

Vash: Oh, are you hungry?

Livio: Hell yeah, I am!

Vash: What would you like?

Livio: Uh, pancakes!

Vash: Alright, pancakes it is!

PAGE 5

Panel 1: They sit down and eat at a retro 50s-style diner booth in a small nook of the ship. Livio swirls the last of his pancake in syrup on the plate. Vash cradles a black coffee with both hands looking at Livio.

Vash: Hey, Livio, what do you want to do when this is all over?

Livio: Dunno, maybe wander around for a while or return to the orphanage to help make up for what I and the other guy did.

Panel 2: Livio hangs his head, eyebrows worried.

Livio: If I can be honest with ya, I'm scared to face them.

Panel 3: Zoomed out drawn in chibi style to break the tension. Livio shivers.

Vash: Is that scarier than Elendira?

Sound effects: shivers

Panel 4: They laugh.

Livio: Well, when ya put it like, hell no!

Vash: Haha!

Panel 5: Extreme close-up of Livio’s eyes softening as he remembers back to his time at the orphanage.

Livio: I think he’d like that. They were my first real family.

Panel 6: Vash is hit with a sudden realization, Livio has no one right now. In a misty background, he remembers when Razlo cried out after Wolfwood did in Master Chapel.

Vash (internal): Wolfwood, you left Livio in my care... so we wouldn’t be alone.

Razlo (background): ...I’m all alone again!

PAGE 6

Panel 1: Close-up of Vash with the sincerest smile.

Vash: I hope you know you’re not alone. You have me now.

Panel 2: Livio’s face contorts sorrowfully.

Livio/Razlo (internal): I don’t deserve this.

Livio: Mr. Vash I --

Vash: Wait, before you say anything...

Panel 3: Zoom out so we can see both of them and the table. Vash extends his leg as he digs deep into his pants pocket. Livio leans on the table watching him.

Vash: I know that we don’t know each other well yet, but he trusted you with me and I trusted him, wholly and completely, so…

Panel 4: Extreme close-up, Vash pulls out 2 black leather wristbands with silver latches.

PAGE 7

Panel 1: Vash offers Livio a wristband while holding one for himself in the same hand.

Vash: Here. One for you, one for me. I used a strap from his cross to make it, so part of him will always be with us.

Panel 2: Livio puts the wristband on his left hand.

Livio: Thank you.

Panel 3: Extreme close-up of Livio’s non-tattooed eye, tears pricking his lashes.

Livio: I hope one day I can repay yer kindness.

Panel 4: They fist bump wristbands in view.

Vash: Welcome to the family, Livio.

PAGE 8

Panel 1: A large portrait of Wolfwood with his sunglasses and back turned, fills the background, smiling as he holds his cigarette in his hand.

Livio: Hey, Mr. Vash?

Vash: Mm?

Livio: Would you mind tellin’ me a lil more about him… Wolfwood? Ya see, we were close at the orphanage as kids, but I don’t know who he became. I’ll understand if you don’t want to, you owe me absolutely nothin’.

Panel 2: A close-up of Vash’s coffee, Wolfwood’s staple morning drink, Vash’s reflection smiles back, tears in his eyes.

Vash: I’d love to.

PAGE 9

Panel 1: Bonus! Sometime later. Drawn in chibi style.

Livio: Can I hug ya?

Vash: Sure, buddy!

Panel 2: They hug, Vash smiles, and Livio whimpers as he lets out the waterworks. He’s thankful for Vash’s kindness.

Panel 3: This sets Vash off, who also sobs. They cry in each other’s arms.

#Trigun #Trigun Maximum #TriMax #spoilers #Trigun Spoilers #Vashwood #Vash #Vash the Stampede #Livio #Livio the Double Fang #Nicholas D Wolfwood #Wolfwood #my art #tw character death mention #food #TrigunStampede #NO BETA WE DIE LIKE GUNG-HO-GUNS #sorry for any choppy dialogue #shoved a lot in here but wanted to touch on Trigun's running themes like loneliness and family #and Vash being heart wrenchingly kind #vash privately mourning wolfwood was a good move on nightow's part but my guy I needed to see some tears to fill the hole in my heart #take that trust line as you will to fit your narrative :3 #i love these 3 idiots (affectionate) a lot and I can't fit all I want to say in the tags #this spawned from an art mistake I noticed in the manga #livio's wristbands changed from 2 to 3 at some point #it looked suspiciously like a strap from Wolfwood's cross and the rest is history #and i needed more bonding time between vash and livio #and for them to know they aren't alone in this fight #i 100% think livio would struggle mourning ww and becoming worthy to do so #I needed this so maybe someone needs it too

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pedgito · 2 months

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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 | Javier Pena x fem!reader

summary | your boyfriend delivers the worst news possible on what should be a day filled with love. luckily your coworker is there in wait, not allowing a perfectly good dinner reservation to go to waste. [2.5k]

content warning | this is probably the tamest thing i've ever written, who am i? mostly fluff, vague descriptions of your boyfriend (technically ex-boyfriend/some misogyny (not by javi), small age gap, co-workers, dinner dates and more, unrequited (innocent) crushes, minimal spanish (mostly just pet names), open-ended

author’s note | @pascalispretty happy valentines day!! this is my first time doing one of these and i was your secret valentine, but i hope you enjoy! i haven't written for javi in so long and i was really craving some soft!javi so this was a joy to write. i hope you enjoy!

You hated the stigma around holidays and what they meant, what they entailed, and why people upheld them so highly. But, here you were—tapping your fingers insistently against the desk across from the pool of DEA agents who would throw a file of paperwork on your desk and expect it to magically poof away and, by default, relinquish themself of any responsibility over it in the process.

You couldn’t fault them all—some of them actually managed to follow instructions. A signature here and there, all in order, leaving with little work to do other than file it away. Murphy followed it to a degree that made you think he probably has some time of background outside of here, back in the states. Always uniform, always proper—he’d been a good addition from the start and a perfect match to Javier Pena’s strong personality and unwillingness to give up control.

He also smiled at you every morning and offered a kind greeting, a small acknowledgment of your existence which couldn’t be spared by many others.

As for Javier—he did the work. There was never an issue, but halfway through an expository to a question he asks his attention is drawn elsewhere. Usually to one of the other few in-office secretaries or visitors that just couldn’t resist a bite at the overconfident and suave agent.

You could see the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had to like it—sometimes it impeded your ability to communicate with him and it really, really annoyed you.

Plus, your boyfriend was perfect. Too perfect that it felt unreal at times, but as all things in your life tended to implode on you—you were waiting for the ball to drop.

“Buenos días, señorita.” Javier greets with a smile that shines perfectly under his thick mustache, dressed in his usual pairing of tight jeans and form-fitting button up. This one was pink though, or a deep red. Jesus, how many different ones did he own?

You snort softly, “Morning, Javi.”

And you’re expecting that crisp folder to slide onto your desk but he’s traversing down the steps into the bay of other desks, straight for his. He’s still in eyeline, his and Steve’s shared workspace right in the center.

His eyes flit up briefly, scanning the room before they land on you again and of course you’re staring, but not for the reasons he’s assuming. And there’s a fierceness behind your eyes that he’s seen before, like he’s about to be lectured.

You grab at an empty file on your desk and hold it up lazily, eyebrows raising in expectation.

“Oh shit,” He curses lowly, but not soft enough for you to miss before he’s reaching in his desk and holding up the paperwork, “Here—I’ve got it.”

You pluck the item from his grip as he approaches, this time lingering. He’s got his fingers spread out wide on your desk and he leans, practically towers as you sift through his work quietly before jotting something down on a separate sticky note and filing it away for the time being.

“Sorry, bonita,” He apologized, some sincerity in his voice, “I stayed late last night and finished it up but you were already gone—I don’t forget, you know that.”

“All good,” You offer a polite smile and he still doesn’t move, nodding kindly to a few women that pass by, seemingly more done-up than usual, “big plans tonight?”

A man like Javier, there was no way he spent Valentine's Day alone.

Javier offers a non-commital shrug and nods his head in your direction, “What about you? You got that boyfriend, right? Kid with the glasses?”

And okay, Javier was a good chunk older than you. Ten years, maybe. But, kid? Please.

“Yes, that kid.” You roll your eyes light-heartedly. “Um, I reserved a table for dinner at that restaurant Steve recommended a couple months ago. The one he took Connie to.”

“Yeah—yeah, I know that place.” Been a few times, it lingers on his tongue. It didn’t matter if he went alone, the food was decent enough. “You made the reservation?”

“Come on, Javi,” You slap at his forearm gently, “It's not that big of a deal—besides I just…need a break. I thought dinner would be nice.”

“You know I can’t judge you for living at this place,” Javier says around a soft chuckle, “I’m guilty of it too.”

Many nights spent stuck in the office with just you and Javier—the occasional appearance of Steve. It led you to learn a few things about the men, even if inadvertently.

When leads were dry, Javier will go through half a pack in a day and Steve would chew at his fingernails almost constantly, tapping and fidgeting nearly nonstop. They both had obvious tells—a more obvious one for Javier being the close-mouthed smile he gave to women he wasn’t interested in but still remained polite to while the other, the unabashed grin was reserved for the women who piqued his interest.

He's given you both, but that was beside the point.

“Any recommendations?” You ask curiously, fidgeting with the plastic clip on your pen.

Javier considers it briefly, lips pursing together as he taps his pointer finger in thought, “Well, the Pescado Frito they have is pretty good—can’t really go wrong with that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You note, leaning back in your chair as you spot Steve making his way into the office.

“I thought you hated holidays like this?” Javier questions curiously, a sentiment he shared. They seemed pointless outside of the few that offered him a reprieve from work.

You shrug, looking away briefly to avoid his steadfast gaze.

“Well, I don’t think all of us are impervious to stuff—I wanted to do something…nice. I guess?”

Javier isn’t entirely convinced, seeing the uncertainty in your shy smile but he lets it go, slapping the desk lightly before waving a quick goodbye as Steve pulls him aside.

It had to be intel—and good intel at that by the way Javier’s face morphs into sudden interest, thumb and pointer finger brushing over his mustache.

And really, you shouldn’t keep staring at him. Not with that dinner on the forefront of your mind, the one you had so meticulously planned out for you and your boyfriend.

Things had to be perfect. There was no other option.

But, then Javier chances another glance in your direction and something swells in your throat—anxiety, sadness. You can't quite place it, but you swallow it down. Force it away.

Only a few more hours to go.

The call comes an hour before you’re due to head home, already packing up your belongings preemptively. And you smile at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice.

It’s been a few months. Good months. Too good.

He was younger, like you—some IT guy in his earlier twenties with a kind heart. Or, so you assumed.

“Hey,” You answer softly, lightly into the phone, “reservations are in a couple hours.”

“About that,” His voice sounds off, distant, “I don’t think I can make it.”

Your heart drops into your stomach and you find yourself chewing at your bottom lip in worry, watching wearily as Javier and Steve hold matching coffees in their grip, marching back to their desks in sync. Javier’s gaze lingers for a moment, a normal motion he did just to check on you.

Nothing more.

But, he spots the change in your emotion.

Still, he continues on.

“What—I—I’ve had these reservations for two weeks,” You reply in a hushed voice, trying to contain your frustration, “what happened—what changed?”

“I just—I don’t really know how to say this,” The dread is immediate, but your mind is filled with anger—rigid, bitter anger that wants to bite, “I think we should break up.”

“Are you fucking serious?” The small outburst catches the attention of you people but you avoid their gaze, even more pointedly Javier, who’s gone from inconspicuously spying to full on gawking now, alongside Steve who had a sudden interest. They’ve never seen you like…this. “Today? This felt like a good thing to tell me today?”

“I’ve been trying—“

“You’re an asshole.” You bite harshly, “You can pick your shit up from my apartment this weekend.”

You don’t let him have the final word, slamming the phone back down into the receiver and ignoring the gathering stares and sparse, hushed whispers.

You could sit and wallow, allow yourself to stew in regret and worry, wondering what you did wrong—but you knew it wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been. All the trying and trying and trying you do, the maximum amount of effort met with little enthusiasm. You were naive to think that things would work,

You’re thankful when the shift nears its end and people file out quietly, albeit with a few side-stares, you find yourself mulling over the idea of canceling the reservation completely. But, then there was perfectly good, hard-earned money going to waste. And you could eat by yourself, but the idea seemed even more miserable as you had specifically booked a table for two, decorations and accommodation to match. It felt ridiculous, in hindsight.

You pass the stack of paperwork off to your boss as you step into his office, scurrying back to your desk with your head down—already prepared to go home and wallow in your self-pity.

“You alright?” Javier asks suddenly, jumping slightly at his voice as you turn on your heels, hip bumping into your desk in the process, wincing at the pain, “shit—sorry.”

He’s smiling to lighten the mood but it doesn’t help.

“You’re…fine,” You wave him off, leaning into the weight of the desk as he lingers, fingers shoved into the front pockets of his pants, “I’m heading home in a bit.”

“No dinner?” He asks curiously—if he was attempting to be coy he was doing a terrible joy.

It was only minimally amusing, cracking a smug smile at his obvious prying.

“No dinner,” You confirm, “and he broke up with me, so…”

“Cabrón,” He says under his breath, but it isn’t lost on you, “I’m sorry—that’s…fucked up.”

You shrug, “Now I’m debating on canceling and wasting the money I put down to reserve it or looking pathetic if I show up by myself—“

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Javier defends, speaking entirely from personal experience.

“Javi, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“And?”

Suddenly though, you’re struck with an idea.

“Are you busy?” You ask curiously and Javier raises a curious eyebrow your way and smirks, “No ladies in waiting tonight?”

“Not yet.” Javier jokes lightly, knowing his usual routine of hitting the bar after work would end in one of two ways, and even if he didn’t mind spending his nights alone, it was nice to be in the company of others in whatever capacity.

“Go with me.” You suggest, poking at his bicep. “Since you love the place so much.”

“Come on, hermosa,” Javier chides playfully, “If you wanted to take me on a date, just ask.”

You grin wide, heart fluttering at the flirtatious tone he carried in his voice—it wasn’t something you weren’t used to, but it was never so pointedly directed at you.

“I am,” You tell him, “I just—I’ll need to go home and change first.”

His brow furrows and he looks you over, seeing nothing wrong, “Why? You look fine. You always do.”

It’s something he tells you daily—and maybe he has his own selfish reasons, though you know he does it to most of the women in the office, but the way he’s saying it to you now feels different.

He means it, no humor in his voice.

“My—” You can’t even address him in the moment, rolling your eyes with full force as you rub your fingers over your forehead to will away the lines of stress that form there, “I just—he used to say work clothes never complimented me very well. I already had a dress picked out, I can be quick.”

“Save it. I think you look perfect.” Javier affirms softly, keys jingling in his back pocket as he fishes them out, “I’ll drive us.

“But, my car—”

And hand breaches your shoulder, hot to the touch as his fingers curl around your form.

“Hey,” He’s searching for your eyes, waiting until they lock with his own and he nods, expecting the same motion to make sure you’re with him, “I’ll drive you there and back, you don’t have to change—we can enjoy some good food and forget about your shitty boyfriend, alright?”

You nod quietly, earning a gentle squeeze in response.

–

It wasn’t a date, not in the slightest. But, Javier did his damndest to make you feel like it was.

And maybe it was the guilt over him knowing you just got dumped—that whatever you had spent so much time planning had fell out underneath you, but it didn’t quell the nervous anxiety that you felt as you both sipped on a shared bottle of wine and your separate dinners, watching Javier grimace around the lip of his wine glass.

“Horrible, right?” You laugh softly, watching as he forces the liquid down and nods jerkily.

“Food is great, though—the wine,” Javier makes a face of uneasiness that has you covering a laugh with your palm, “—that’s why I stick with tequila or whiskey.”

“Can’t say I have much of a preference,” You admit, “as long as it does the job.”

Javier nods knowingly, stabbing his fork into a piece of food and chewing thoughtfully, the fingers of his unoccupied hand rubbing together as an idea forms in his head, “You know, if you’re not busy I was going to meet up with Steve and Connie for a drink. Later tonight—if you’re interested?”

You can’t believe how instantly you want to agree, blaming it on your impulsivity.

“Javi, I don’t know,” You respond quietly, “I don’t—I don’t really go out like that.”

“Well—that dress you were talking about. It wouldn’t go completely to waste if you wanted to wear it out tonight. Plus, you treated me to a nice dinner—let me treat you to a couple drinks.”

It sounds like the perfect idea. Too perfect. Too good to be true.

“Javi,” You tease shyly, “if you’re trying to ask me out on a date just say it.”

Javier chuckles softly and you know it’s only an attempt to make a shitty day not so shitty, but the underlying chase you two have allowed to happen for so long now was unobscured by outside forces and you hated how easy it was for him to distract you from everything that had transpired today.

“Is that a yes?” Javier teases.

You sigh reluctantly, though a subtle grin pulls at your face, eyes soften at the expectant look on Javier’s face, all puppy-eyed and nothing like the man you’re used to seeing in the office. This was a side of him that felt new and you were curious to discover more. You nod.

“Well, hermosa—I guess it’s a date then.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier peña #pedro pascal #my writing #spacesisterssecretvalentine

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anonabelle · 2 years

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Red Angel's got a new partner to Prevent Harm with.

I’ve been working on this thing since the start of September and I am SO GLAD it is finally finished! I want to see this team up on screen SO BAD. SENDING ALL MY WISHES TO THE WIND.

(Art process timeline thing under the cut!)

At some point I want to make a gif out of all the process pics I took because there are quite a lot. Below is the condensed version, with all the major steps. The render stage took the most time to do because I really wanted to capture certain aspects of the show’s art direction that I really liked (and it took a lot of experimenting because coloring isn’t usually my favorite step).

concept > sketch > lineart > flats > render (bigger image here)

This thing started off as a mindless procreate sketch (far left) and the thought: “Raph would be so much bigger than Casey in this iteration, huh. That’s cute.”

And yeah, snowballed from there.

I think I’ve drawn Raph several times since, but this is probably the first time I’ve ever tried Cass. I love her. I should (and will) draw her more.

Screenshots I spent a lot of time staring at, especially Raph down there as I was trying to get the “manifesting mystic gauntlets” look right (accidentally lost a bunch of progress on it the other day. it was pain but i powered through :’) ).

I believe the backgrounds are from Hot Soup: The Game, which I had playing in the background at around the time I decided to think about the background for this illo. The Cass screenshot is from Rise, of course, and Raph is from the movie, juuust before he attempts to punch a krang in the face.

If you’ve read this far, thanks for reading and I hope it was... informative? Interesting? Here are my Rise-Raph-and-Casey feelings all wrapped up in a piece of art that I put my soul into. Thanks Rise crew, your work continues to inspire.

#risetober #rottmnt #rise raph #rise casey #cassandra jones #casey jones #rise of the tmnt #raphael #red angel of preventing harm #tmnt #fanart #art process #to all the fanfic writers who have written about these two #i see you and i appreciate you

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aurasplanet · 18 days

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GRIMES’ KID carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — age gap (not explicitly mentioned, i imagined 4 years; carl is 18 reader is 22), carl has a thing for you being older, dry humping, mocking, riding, bad ending probably

carl met you when you were brought back to alexandria, battered and bruised and shaking like a leaf from presumably trauma. his father, daryl, and rosita had gone scavenging and found you, and after some questions and your worrying state they brought you back.

he was drawn to you immediately. you looked around his age, but when he found out you were a little older it made him more… interested? he was intrigued by how you held yourself. your normal behavior a great contrast to how shaken up you were when he first saw you.

he liked how similar you held yourself compared to him, cold, independent, confident even if it was a facade. he liked how when you met him you just shook his hand, looked into his eye with kindness in yours. one of the first people to not look too long or overreact and interrogate him about the bandage.

it was the little things that made carl’s brain short circuit. tying your shirt up when it got too hot, exposing the skin of your belly. offering to care for judith, unknowing to how carl’s mind ran wild about how you would do as a mother. maybe he was getting ahead of himself, but this deep rooted crush he had has developed over the two years you’ve been here. despite never acting on it.

but you act so nonchalant around him. he’s starting to understand how glenn and maggie fell together like puzzle pieces so quickly, but you don’t seem to spare him a glance anymore. it drives him insane.

as of now the group is huddled together, brainstorming their next scavenging trip to satisfy negan. you’re standing right in front of him, clad in cargo shorts and a white top tied in the front. you stood with your hand over your eyes, blocking yourself from the blazing sun as much as you could.

it’s the little things.

you feel eyes on you and turn around, laughing shortly with no surprise that carl was behind you. “hey kid,” you walk up to carl, flicking his hat with a smile. he’s always lurking in the background when the group is having discussions. he knows his father will either be too scared to let him join, or too wary to include his ideas.

he hums in response, squinting his eye to see you clearer. “hi.”

you shift your weight on your hip, “it’s a little hot out to be wearing a flannel and jeans, huh?”

carl shrugs and lifts his hat, ruffling his hair a bit before putting it back on. “not much choice.” him and those short answers, making it hard for you when all you want to do is listen to his pretty, raspy voice.

you huff and start walking towards his house, a slight smirk setting on your lips when you hear him shuffling behind you “you’re not going to help?”

“they’re sending your dad and a couple of others, not me.” you wait for him to speak again, ask you something else maybe. “they want me to watch after judith though.”

“i got it.”

it’s not that he doesn’t want you there, quite the opposite. it just irks him that even the smallest task of watching his own sister was being given to someone else.

you look back at him amusedly. “okay cowboy, i see you’re mister independent now?” he rolls his eye at the nickname, you gave it to him when you first met him. the hat you always saw him in resembled a cowboy’s hat. and when he kept getting antsy, correcting you defensively, it stuck as a way to pick on him a bit.

he grumbles, “i’ve been independent, you guys just refuse to listen to me.” you giggle and open the front door of his house, pouting at him mockingly. you take judy away from olivia with a smile and a thank you.

“you poor thing.” you bounce judith on your hip, hearing carl scoff behind you as he closes the door. you heard olivia say something about judith’s nap time so you head up to her room to put her down.

no surprise carl followed you.

“on a serious note,” you put judith down for bed, smiling at her sweetly. “i’m sure they’ll come around eventually. you’re a grimes for gods sake.”

“yeah, and that’s all they see me as.” he grumbles under his breath. you give him a look that says ‘i heard that’ and lead him out of judy’s room. “don’t act like you don’t either. i’m just rick’s son to you.”

you cross your arms and turn to face him, leaning against the door of his bedroom. “really, kid?”

he nods, licking his lips before continuing. “i’m just like some errand boy with a messed up face. i have to sneak out to execute my ideas and get my ass chewed out for it.” you knew he was talking about the time he attacked negan’s men, the memory making your face screw up. you were terrified of what negan could and would do to carl.

“one, stop saying you have a messed up face. two, maybe try to persuade people into listening to you more. i can help. when you go off and do things like that it makes you seem like you’re still a reckless kid.”

“i’m not a kid.” carl snarls, getting closer to you. his eye flicks from your eyes to your lips. you don’t miss it, you silently gasp and put your hands on his chest to prevent him from coming closer.

“slow your roll, kid.” the nickname rolls off your tongue out of habit, making carl even more upset.

he sighs annoyedly, “seriously?” he raises his hand up over yours slowly. he gave you time to pull away and smirks when you don’t. “slow my roll, huh?” you roll your eyes and push at his chest again, albeit softer this time.

“i think…” your hand still in his, he guides it up to his hair. you blink your eyes away from him. “i think you do that on purpose.” his head dips down to look into your eyes that are hellbent on avoiding him.

“do what on purpose?” your voice is breathless, he’s winning.

he smiles and tilts your chin up with his finger, “call me ‘kid’, mess with me, ignore me. you’re trying to ignore that you want me.” you scoff but your eyes still stay trained behind him. “say it.”

you look up at him now, breathing out heavily. “i want you.” it’s a mumble under your breath, barely audible.

“what was that, darlin’?” you purse your lips at the new pet-name.

“you heard me, grimes.”

he laughs breathlessly, inching his face closer to yours. “yeah, i did. i wanna hear you say it again.” he’s doing this so easily, turning you into putty in his hands. he’s always been the grimes kid you picked on, having fun toying around with him. he’s gone and turned it around on you so quickly it makes your head spin.

“i want you, carl.” he growls when you say his name, pushing his lips against yours harshly. his imagination is vivid, no doubt. but all of the begging he had you do for him in his head didn’t come close to the pretty, honey-like sound of your real voice admitting you want him.

it didn’t compare to how soft your lips felt against his, how perfect your skin felt on his fingertips. he pushes himself against you, chest to chest and deepens the kiss. you let out a small whine, using your free hand to grip his shirt.

he chuckles, “i bet this just has you seething, huh? you’re always so cocky, i wonder how people would react to you acting all pathetic for someone younger than you.” your hand in his hair tugs causing him to groan.

his lips go to your jawline, sucking and biting and kissing at the skin. he’s careful to not leave marks, saving those for the places only he could see. his hand goes behind you to open the door, pushing you inside and shutting it with his foot. he lays you down on his bed and hovers over you.

he bites his lips while he takes you in. you’re breathing heavy, your chest rising and falling quickly. he sees the sheer shine of sweat on your skin, how plump your lips are from your kiss, how pretty your skin looks with the little light seeping from the window.

he pushes your shirt up and kisses along your abdomen, leading up to your chest and taking it off completely. his hand goes to your back, lifting you off the mattress slightly to rid you of your bra. he sighs with satisfaction when he finally sees your tits for himself.

his fingers lazily roll your nipples, the small action causing you to whimper and buck your hips. “such a needy thing, aren’t you?” he was going to prove to you he was no longer a kid, one way or another. he was going to prove to you that he could make you feel good.

“you know, i like when you try to boss me around. because now i know i can put you in your place so easily,” his laugh in your ear is menacing. he peels your shorts off and groans at the wet patch on your panties.

he grinds against your clit and you gasp, his jeans causing friction that feels so good. the embarrassment of you being nearly fully naked while he’s still dressed adding onto the fire in your belly. he huffs in your ear every time he moves his hips, his hands holding yours in place against the mattress.

“do it.” your voice rasps out, your lust blown eyes boring into his.

he cocks his brow, “do what, darlin’?”

you bite your lip and resist rolling your eyes back from the pleasure. “put me in my place.” he laughs humorlessly, grinding against you a little harder and ripping a moan from you.

“this not enough for you?”

your coy smile returns, “tryin’ to say you can’t do better than that?” he growls and flips you over,

“if you wanna be so cocky, ride me.” carl tilts his head, placing his hands on your hips. you huff and shoot him a dirty look. “you asked for this.”

you unzip his jeans, tugging them down his legs. your impatience gets the best of you leaving you to abandon them at his mid-thighs. he laughs at your desperation, helping you pull your panties to the side and guide yourself onto his cock.

you whine at the intrusion, going down slowly. he sucks in a breath through his teeth, throwing his head back. his hat falls off as a result and with a smirk he picks it up and sets it on your head. your glossy eyes look at him curiously, “you look perfect.”

you look down shyly, trailing your hand up his shirt to reveal his slim figure. you breathe out shakily as you force the rest of him inside of you, sitting still for a bit to adjust and get used to feeling him inside of you.

all the whole carl is looking at you like a goddess, half lidded eyes raking along your body. your hands are unsteady on his chest, trying your best to steady yourself and bounce on him properly. he can’t help but huff out a laugh and hold your hips. “let me, darlin’.”

“i got it.”

you squeal when he bounces your hips for you, your head falling to his neck. he wraps a hand around your throat and pushes you back into place. “i wanna watch you, watch you fall apart. watch your desperate face.” his mouth goes to your chest, sucking harsher than before.

he lets go of your throat and puts both hands on your hips again, doing all the work while you moan sweetly on top of him. he can’t take his eyes off of you, finally getting you to himself the way he wanted. not to mention how hot you look in his hat.

your arms wrap around his neck and you lean down to kiss him. it’s a tad softer this time, carl wants to savor this as long as he can. his arms go around your waist, leaving you to grind on him instead. the kiss is messy, mostly heavily breathing into each others mouths trying to stay as close as possible.

“fuck, i’m close. y’feel so good around me, darlin’.” you whine at his words, god he finds you so cute. even when you’re a mess on his dick.

you mumble against his lips, “me too.”

he leans back, watching your face while you struggle to keep your pace. “cum with me, pretty?” you nod eagerly, muttering a weak ‘please’.

“good girl.”

he flips you over, thrusting into you fast and messily. his lips lock with yours and his right hand cups your chest. he pulls out with a groan and brings your hand up to wrap around his cock. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast causing whimpers to fall from your lips. his brows furrow and his mouth falls agape while he watches your pretty hand finish him off.

he sighs as he lays next to you, pulling you into his side. “how’s that for kid.”

you shrug, “eh, i did most of the work.” he looks down and squints at you,

“do i have to show you again?”

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes smut #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #twd x reader #twd smut #carl grimes fanfiction

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 year

Note

I have a request if you're taking any. A Jake Lockley x fem!reader. The reader is dating them but is kind of scared of Jake (is very quiet and weary around him, doesn't like his physical touch) because he was cold and mean to her when they first met (he wanted to "protect" Steven) but now all he wants is to hold and love her. The opportunity finally arrives when she's sick and needs his help. (He forcefully fronts bc he's not letting this opportunity go to waste)

Of course! Thank you so much for the ask!

Ahhh, this one got away from me a bit. (And did a bit of it's own thing) I went in to write some angst with Jake and just ended up writing soft!Jake (again, because I can't help myself.) I hope this is okay!

Embrace

Jake Lockley X F!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: Overuse of railroad sentences, typos, hurt/comfort, previous Jake & reader not getting along, sick!reader, fluff, implied Steven x reader and Marc x reader, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 1789

_______________________________________

He can’t stop playing it over and over again in his mind. The image looping in a relentless merry-go-round.

A light touch. His gloved fingertips barely skimming your skin as he tapped you on the arm. A gentle warning that he-they were back.

You’d had your headphones on as you did the washing up, miming along a song whose beat bled out into the air around you.

It was like you had known it was him on some subconscious level even before he reached you.

Your reaction was etched into his skin, carved behind his eyelids. The flinch. The instinctive movement away from him. It was like a knife hacking the flesh away from his chest.

You had looked at him as you paused your music. Your eyes a little wide and weary before you gave him a small smile. “Am I in the way?”

The air had stuck in his throat, crushing him under the weight of his breath.

Jake didn’t trust his voice, not in that moment. He swallowed and shook his head.

You nodded, looking at his hands instead of his face and went back to the washing up. You didn’t turn your music back on.

It had been his fault. Jake knew that. He had been more than distant, cold, purposely keeping you further than an arm’s length and trying to drag Marc and Steven away from you as well.

You had been a stranger. A danger. A variable that he couldn’t keep a constant eye on.

There was a small mix up, some bad intel when Jake went out of his way to check on your background - just in case - by the time he realised that he had been working on the wrong information the damage was done.

Jake watched in the background as Steven travelled home, keeping quiet as Marc and Steven talked. They had taken to wearing large over the ear headphones so that they could speak freely in public and look like they were just on the phone. Not that anyone in London would even notice if they were talking to themselves or not.

He had stayed quiet as Steven showered and got changed, as Marc hoovered and then washed the leftover morning dishes.

He didn’t even interject in the discussion of what to make for dinner, which was quickly becoming a squabble.

It was only interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, and you shuffling into the flat.

But your doorsteps, they sounded… wrong. Too heavy and laboured, missing the normal bounce to your step.

Marc was about to call out a greeting when Jake pushed to the front, cutting off his words before he had even opened his mouth.

‘Jake!’ Marc’s voice was loud, but fading as he fell back.

As Steven spoke at the exact same time. ‘Mate, you can’t just do that-”

“Something’s wrong.” Jake muttered, his muscles tense. He moved towards the front door, keeping his footsteps light and making the minimal amount of possible sound. He stopped when you came into view.

You were slouched on the settee, crumpled up and drawn in on yourself. Your work bag was still on your lap, your coat and shoes on. Eyes shut.

There was a horrible twist in his stomach, a wave of panic that buzzed across every nerve. You were hurt.

He rushed forward, all previous grace forgotten.

You didn’t open your eyes until he put a hand firmly on your shoulder, an action that was worrying enough, “where are you injured?” He frowned deeply, trying to scan you over for any bruising or open wounds.

“What, I’m not,” your voice came out all stuffy. Bunked up and a little garbled as if you’d just been woken from sleep.

Realisation dawned. You were sick, not hurt. He should pull back. He should get Steven or Marc, let them help you. That’s what you would want.

“I’m just a bit,” your eyes were glassy, your reactions a little delayed. You motioned to your head with your hands. “Cotton wool-y.”

Jake put his hand on your forehead, you were burning hot.

He tutted and knelt down on the ground and began to take off your shoes. Quick and precise in his movements.

You frowned. Your mind slowly catching up. “Jake?”

He didn’t pause, didn’t answer. But swallowed when you stiffened slightly.

“You don’t need to do that.” You whispered.

Jake continued, focused on his task, his warm hand on your calf as he eased your foot out of your boot and placed it carefully on the side before he started on the other.

You cleared your throat. “You don’t have to.”

He set your other boot next to the first and slowly stood. His movements were slow, precise, careful to not surprise you. As if you were some wild skittish animal that could be spooked by the smallest thing.

Jake took your work bag from your lap and hung it up on the side, where you liked to keep it. You followed his movements, nerves eating into your stomach. He didn’t have to do this. You were sure he didn’t want to do this. You were nothing more than a burden to him, an annoyance that he had to put up with for Marc and Steven’s sake. You-

“Come on,” he spoke softly, his eyes still downcast as he lent down towards you, gently taking your hands in his to help you to stand. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Jake,” the urge to pull your hands back, away from his touch was so strong, but you let him help you up.

He ignored your words, wrapping one arm around your shoulders, his other hand on your arm as he began to guide you to the bedroom.

“Jake,”

He stared at his feet,his lips pressed together into a tight line. His long, dark eyelashes were almost kissing his skin in his determination not to catch your gaze.

“Jake.” You stopped, forcing Jake to as well. Your voice cracked as you spoke, your throat sore and aching. You swallowed. “I don’t need you to do this.”

He looked at you then.

You were expecting to see relief on his face. A nod. For his hands to leave you so that he could go about his evening without having to carry the burden of caring about you for his alter’s sake.

Instead, his expression made a sharp cut of emotion sink into your chest.

He stared at you with glassy eyes, his mouth slightly parted. He looked crestfallen. He looked heartbroken.

You didn’t know what to do.

There was a long moment before he spoke. “Please.”

You frowned in confusion.

“Please,” he repeated. “Please let me look after you.” “Please don’t,” he glanced down again and screwed up his eyes, clenching his jaw and dropping his arms to his sides. Your skin was cold without his heat.

Slowly, you reached out and took his hand. A light touch as you tentatively wrapped your fingers around his. He squeezed back tightly.

“Please let me look after you.” Jake whispered. “Please.”

You cupped his cheek with your free hand and he lent into it without hesitation, closing his eyes and breathing out heavily. As if the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders.

“Jake?”

He opened his eyes, a painful vulnerability dancing in them.

“Please look after me.” You whispered.

He smiled, the expression lighting up his whole face in one glorious moment. You’d never seen him smile like that before.

He led you to bed, only leaving so that you could get changed into your pyjamas. He came back, calling out to you at first to check that you had finished changing your clothes, with his arms full. He carefully placed a new box of tissues and a packet of strepsils on your bedside table, along with some paracetamol and a cooling gel pack that was intended for headaches - explaining that it was Steven’s and he didn’t know if it would be helpful.

You beamed at him as you sat up in bed, but didn’t get a chance to thank him as Jake rushed out of the room again, coming back quickly with your favourite mug. Steam wafted out of it.

“It’s ginger,” he said, adding it to the collection on your bedside table, and making sure it sat perfectly in the middle of the coaster. “With some honey, it should help your throat. I can hear that you're a bit croaky.”

The honey touched your heart. There was only one pot of it in the flat, Jake’s vitamin honey that you had never touched. The honey that he refused to share with Marc or Steven, even going to the extent of hiding it. It was one of the few luxuries he allowed himself.

“Jake,” you spoke so softly you were surprised he heard you. “Thank you.”

He fiddled with his hands, another little smile pulling at his lips. “It’s nothing.”

You shook your head, leaning a little to reach out to take his hand. He reacted straight away, moving towards your touch so that you didn’t have to disrupt your comfort. He sat lightly on the very edge of the mattress when you urged him to, taking your hand in his and running your thumb over his skin in a soothing pattern.

Jake watched you, mesmerised. Your touch was for him, he wasn’t watching through Marc or Steven. It was his.

“I’m honoured you know.” You said with a smile. “Letting me have some of your honey.”

A small flush crept along his skin. For a moment he thought about lying, about saying that there was another jar. He swallowed and spoke quietly. “You’re more important than the honey.”

You didn’t know what to say, words wouldn’t form.

Slowly, so carefully as if he was now the easily startled wild animal, you leant forward and wrapped your arms around him. You gave Jake plenty of time to move away, to back off. Instead he rushed towards it, quickly embracing you back and just melting into the hug.

He tucked his head into your neck and breathed out a shaky breath.

You could feel the tension in his arms, the strain running just under his skin as he fought the urge to hold you tighter, to press you closer to every inch of his body.

You shifted backwards, laying down, and pulled him with you, urging him to follow. He clutched you tightly, and moved, shifting only slightly so that he was laying next to you and not on top of you.

He let out the sweetest sigh of content as you coax him to lay his head on your chest and ran your fingers through his hair, still holding you tight.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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eggluverz · 8 months

Text

— BLIND DATES & HIDDEN FEELINGS

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader

WORD COUNT. 2,192

GENRE. blind date, in-universe setting

SUMMARY. march 7th sets you up on a blind date with gepard and dan heng finds himself feeling jealous when he sees the two of you together.

SOF’S NOTE. aka dan heng and reader are bad with feelings! lmaooo ;p i really enjoyed writing this ! caelus here def made me chuckle xD i hope you enjoy this fluffy and slightly chaotic fic <3

“Don’t ask questions, just thank me later.”

You blinked, confused and immediately on alert. “What did you do?”

March 7th grinned, “Something you’ll absolutely love.”

You were in the Astral Express lobby, sitting at one of the tables. Dan Heng was on the couch reading, close enough to hear your conversation.

“What, exactly, will I love?”

“I set up a blind date for you!”

You perked up in interest, waiting for more information. A few weeks ago, you had told March 7th you wanted to go on a date, but your options were limited on the Express. The only person you did find yourself drawn to here in a more romantic way was Dan Heng, but you knew pursuing that would be unfruitful.

“With who?” you asked eagerly, tapping your feet on the floor.

She shook her finger at you. “If I tell you, then it wouldn’t be a blind date, now would it?”

Dan Heng cleared his throat and closed his book. “I would like to know who as well.”

“It’s not your blind date, why do you need to know?” said March 7th with her arms folded. “But since you guys want more information, he’s someone we met in Belobog!”

A frown instantly spread on Dan Heng’s face. “It better not be Sampo.”

March 7th laughed. “Look at you being worried about Y/N’s date. You’re like an overprotective big brother.”

He looked away from you, brows furrowing.

You laughed at her teasing, but didn’t comment. “As long as he’s nice and handsome.”

“Check and check,” promised March 7th. “I’ll tell you all the details soon— The date will be tomorrow.”

“Time to go to Belobog!”

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“What are we doing here again?”

Dan Heng looked at Caelus dressed in a fedora and fake mustache. Dan Heng had told his friend to stay hidden, but in no way did he said to wear a disguise. Be especially did not tell Caelus to wear a mustache.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ll visit Belobog anytime. There are so many trash cans I’ve missed the first time!” said Caelus.

There had been a trash can outside the restaurant, and Dan Heng had to watch as Caelus dove right in. At least he knew the grey-haired man was having fun.

“We’re here to watch over Y/N. They have a blind date and I want to make sure the guy isn’t dangerous,” Dan Heng said, trying to rationalize his plan.

“You mean, we’re stalking Y/N on their date.”

“No.” Dan Heng paused. “Is this considered stalking?”

Caelus nodded and Dan Heng ducked his head in shame. They were seated at a table in the opposite corner you were at. Even the fact that you were left waiting by your blind date unsettled Dan Heng. No man should keep you waiting. He felt that if it were him, he’d be there well before the scheduled time.

Just then, a tall, blond individual walked into the restaurant by himself. Caelus’ eyes widened when he saw the man.

“That’s Gepard!” Caelus whispered to Dan Heng.

Dan Heng’s eyes narrowed. “It is…”

Caelus sighed in relief, watching with a small smile as Gepard walked over to you. You stood up to greet him with a hug and Dan Heng’s stomach tightened. Meanwhile, Caelus slurped his smoothie in peace.

“This is great,” said Caelus, taking off his mustache. “Now we know Y/N is on their blind date with someone trustworthy. March 7th wouldn’t have set them up with someone sketchy. We can head out of here and find some trash cans now.”

Dan Heng glared at him until he stopped talking.

“No? I’m guessing that’s a no.”

Dan Heng didn’t respond, too focused trying to hear what you and Gepard were talking about. Unfortunately for him, the restaurant was busy with music playing in the background. He couldn’t hear a thing.

He sulked as your date went on. Caelus ordered his fifth round of fries and a smoothie.

As your date wrapped up, Gepard stood up and held his hand out to you. You accepted and stood beside him. You leaned in and at that point, Dan Heng could no longer keep watching. He tore his gaze away, a dark expression on his face.

A fry almost fell out of Caelus’ mouth. “Are you alright there?”

Dan Heng clenched his fists. “No, I don’t think I am.”

Before he could think his actions through, Dan Heng stood up and walked over to the booth you and Gepard were at. Caelus’ eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“Dan Heng? What are you doing?”

Dan Heng marched forward, stride never faltering. Caelus followed behind, a smoothie still in hand as he slowly sipped from the straw.

He caught your eye before he could announce his presence. A look of confusion crossed your face as you stared at him.

Noticing your attention was intensely focused on something behind him, Gepard turned around to see what you were looking at. His brow raised in surprise as he saw Dan Heng.

“Dan Heng? Caelus?” said Gepard. “What are you doing here?”

Dan Heng stayed silent.

Caelus raised his smoothie. “Just grabbing some food and looting some trash cans along the way.”

Dan Heng felt your gaze on him and, if his intuition was correct, it did not seem very pleased.

“Oh, really?” you said, a smile on your face but your tone was one of disbelief. “That’s why you’re here? Conveniently at the place you knew my blind date would be at?”

Caelus looked from Dan Heng to you, unsure how to answer. Slowly, he replied, “Small world?”

“There are, like, thousands of worlds!”

“Yes, and this one is small.” Caelus drank his smoothie, subtly averting his gaze. “Fancy seeing Gepard here, though.”

Gepard’s smile was wide, completely oblivious to the gloom coming from you. Dan Heng was sure most people wouldn’t notice the smallest furrow in your brow, but he certainly did. He felt guilty at your discomfort, since he was aware it was most likely due to him showing up here with Caelus uninvited.

“It’s so great seeing you two,” said Gepard. “How have you been Caelus? Dan Heng?”

They caught up with each other, telling stories of their adventures since their time here last. Dan Heng noticed you standing there, listening and laughing along, but the look on your face was still sour.

The group talked into the night and by the time the noise quieted, Dan Heng saw you yawning.

“Well,” you said, trying not to rub your eyes too hard, “this was fun, but I am getting a bit sleepy.”

Gepard straightened, his attention fully on you. “Yes, I don’t want to keep you up to late. But I had fun as well.” He smiled. “I’ll keep in touch.”

You returned his grin and Dan Heng looked away as you stared at each other.

“I wish the date could last longer!” you said eagerly. “But thank you for spending time with me. I’m sure the captain doesn’t have too many days off.”

“I don’t, but this was a great way to spend it.”

As you, Caelus, and Dan Heng said goodbye to Gepard and made your way back to the Astral Express, you were silent the entire time. Even when you got back on the train, you went straight to your room.

March 7th, who was laying down on the couch, looked at Dan Heng when she saw you leave.

“What did you do?”

Dan Heng’s frown deepened, his stomach a pit of worry when he thought of how you must be feeling.

“I think I need to go apologize.”

Caelus finished the rest of his seemingly never-ending smoothie. “You should.”

Dan Heng left the hobby and entered the private quarters. He walked down the hall until he reached your room and knocked on the door.

“Y/N,” he said cautiously. “Can I talk to you?”

Silence.

Dan Heng’s heart dropped. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“You embarrassed me!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why’d you do that?” you asked, voice muffled through the door. “Did you not want me going on a blind date with Gepard? Do you think we’re not a good match?”

Dan Heng shook his head even though you couldn’t see him. “I have nothing against Gepard. He is loyal and trustworthy.”

“Then why did you not want me to be on that blind date with him?”

“I don’t want you going on blind dates with anyone.”

You groaned in frustration and Dan Heng heard a small thump on the door. You cried in exasperation, “What do you have against blind dates? They’re just for fun! No harm in going on them.”

“I don’t have anything against blind dates,” Dan Heng attempted to explain. He was finding it rather hard to word it himself. If it were March 7th who had gone on that blind date with Gepard, Dan Heng would not be feeling this way. But it wasn’t March 7th who went on it, it was you. “I suppose I’m only against you going on one. Or, going on any date, for that matter.”

There was a lapse of silence before you opened the door.

He watched as you motioned for him to come in, your brows furrowed and confused.

“I don’t understand,” you said finally. “Why?”

Now, Dan Heng knew he could be oblivious and dense when it came to feelings, but it seemed he met his match with you.

“I think,” he said slowly, considering his words carefully, “I only want you going on dates with me.”

“You think?”

He blinked. “Yes. But I’m not too sure. These feelings are unfamiliar and part of me would rather ignore them, but whatever I felt when I saw you and Gepard on that date… It made me realize it hurts too much to ignore them anymore.”

Now, he was certain there was no way you wouldn’t understand his feelings. Though he was confused himself, it did feel like a confession of sorts.

You grinned a little before hiding your face behind your hand. With a small cough, you straightened your face into a more impassive look. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

Dan Heng stared at you for a bit before a mischievous giggle escaped you.

He raised a brow. “Are you teasing me?”

You shook your head in denial, but didn’t bother hiding your growing laughter. “No! You’re just speaking in riddles. Just tell me out right—”

“I like you,” Dan Heng blurted, not wanting to cause any further confusion. “Is that what you want to hear? I like you, and maybe it took seeing you go on a date with someone else for me to truly realize.”

“I did like hearing that, yes,” you said with a smile on your face. Dan Heng was relieved that you no longer sounded upset or hurt. He truly felt sorry for embarrassing you by interrupting your date. It was rude and he was glad you could forgive him. “But you know,” you continued, “the only reason March 7th set me up on that date was because I asked her.”

His stomach turned at those words.

“And I asked her only because I wanted to get over my feelings for you.”

Now it was Dan Heng’s turn to silently watch you. There were too many things running through his mind. You wanted to get over your feelings for him? You had feelings for him to start with?

Thankfully for him, you went on to elaborate.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” you said, looking sheepish as you walked over to sit at the edge of your bed. “Or, perhaps, that my feelings for you would make you uncomfortable.”

He frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re not exactly…transparent.”

“Hmm.” Dan Heng couldn’t deny that.

“I’ve had a small crush on you ever since I joined the Astral Express and all its adventures.” You smiled, motioning for Dan Heng to take a seat next to you. “I always thought you were handsome and smart. But as we went on missions together, I saw how caring you were. You’re brave and intelligent, and I like the sarcastic way you crack jokes.”

As he sat beside you on your bed, Dan Heng felt his face grow warm and his heart grow light. You looked over at him with bright, hopeful eyes and he returned your gaze.

“In case it wasn’t obvious enough, I like you, Dan Heng.”

He smiled. “I like you, too.” Never had Dan Heng felt so much relief simply from saying a few words. Putting words to his emotions and hearing you felt the same was brought him more joy than he would’ve guessed. “So, does that mean you won’t go on anymore blind dates?”

You nodded with a laugh. “No, I won’t.”

Dan Heng smiled.

“The only dates I want to go on are with you.”

“Is that a promise?”

“A pinky promise.”

As you stuck your pinky out with a grin on your face, Dan Heng accepted with his own. Feeling the warmth between your intertwined pinky fingers, he decided there was no place he’d rather be.

#honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #honkai star rail #hsr #dan heng #dan heng hsr #hsr fanfiction #hsr fluff #hsr imagines

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

Note

Do you write for 2012? If so I wanted to know if you write Donnie but if not this can be for Mikey (aged up if you want to put it)

Date night for reader and the turtle (2012/of your choice) , reader teasing the turtle under the table as the waiter/waitress is trying to talk to them to hear their order but some words coming from their turtle boyfriend is slightly slurred (reader can be female bodies but overall gn 🤷‍♀️). After date night (turtle of choice) drags reader to their shared bedroom and then the fun starts 👍

If requests aren't open ignore me 🙌 byeee ✨

Table Tease (18+)

2012!Donatello x reader

A/N: I do write for 2012, I just haven’t done a lot for them yet😅 I’ve changed it from a date night to a family dinner setting, but otherwise it’s the same. Hope you like it💜

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All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Spelling, public foreplay, turtley anatomy.

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What do you do when you’re in the mood, but your boyfriend is in a deep discussion with his oldest brother? You know what, double that. What do you do when you’re in the mood, but you and your boyfriend are sitting at the dinner table with all of his family and closest friends, eating pizza? Well, your first instinct was to push it away. You were an adult after all. You were perfectly capable of pushing any needs away for a more appropriate time. And that was what you decided to do, turning towards Donatello, so you could follow along in the conversation he was having with Leonardo. But you quickly found that your attention wandered, turning their conversation to background noise as you took in your boyfriend's appearance next to you.

You had been with Donnie for so long, yet his face, body and personality never seized to amaze you. His brilliant mind inside of his beautiful head. The way he saw the world and his intricate thoughts had always fascinated you. Almost just as much as his body did. You had always found yourself drawn to Donnie. His tall standing stature and his strong muscles. Even the small details, such as the vein on his neck that would stand out on his neck when he was concentrated, or the veins that ran down his forearms and over his hands.

His hands… If there was one thing that could send you into a dream zone, it was Donnie’s hands. The amount of times you had caught yourself staring at his hands, thinking about all the things they had done to you in the past was too many to count. And now, at the table with Donnie’s family, that was exactly what you did. Watching his hands move as he talked, remembering what they did to you last night. How they had held your legs open for him, giving him all the space he needed before devouring you with his mouth, while using his skilled fingers to bring you closer to the edge. You rubbed your legs together at the thought. Suddenly it seemed very hard to push those before mentioned needs away. And with that, an idea came to the forefront of your thoughts, bringing a smug smile to your face.

Unable to contain yourself any longer, you slowly let a hand slide under the table, before it made its way to Donnie’s knee. For you to place your hand on your boyfriend’s knee was nothing new. It was just yet another way for the two of you to show affection, just like a couple normally would. It was therefore that Donnie’s reaction to your hand was so stubble, with a sweet smile shut in your direction, before he continued his talk with Leo. He even moved his knee closer to you, enjoying the feeling of your warm hand against his skin. But you had no intention of just letting your hand rest there.

A few moments later, while you acted like you were listening to a conversation between Raph, Mikey and Casey, you moved your hand further up Donnie’s leg, letting it rest on his thigh. His leg jumped a bit at this, as a reaction to a surprise. But Donnie did not move his leg away. Instead he gave you a look out of the corner of his eye. He knew what you were doing, but he had no intention of stopping you. So therefore you let your hand slide up even further, just to the point where Donnie’s thigh met the rest of his body, your pinky finger grazing softly against his plastron. Donnie shuffled slightly in his seat at this, a small sigh flowing through his nose as he strained his concentration on Leo’s words. You bit back a smile, nodding at something Mikey said.

Your hand slowly moved across the lower area of Donnie’s plastron, until you found the slit of his already sensitive cloaca. As your pointy and middle finger slowly traced his slit, you felt him tense up slightly, his breath becoming ever so slightly heavier. You could feel the effect you had through his cloaca, the feeling it retract and twitch under your touch. You noticed how Donnie had stopped talking, and was now nodding at whatever Leo had to say, before answering with one or two words. That was when an idea made its way into your head.

Your fingers played around on the outside of Donnie’s cloaca, teasing him ever so slightly with each touch, just waiting for their moment to paunch. That came when Donnie calmed down ever so slightly, getting a little used to the feeling of your fingers against him. Then, finally, Leo ceased to talk, giving Donnie the que to talk. And as he opened his mouth, your fingers did their move. Your two fingers moved through his slit, smoothly sliding through his slice.

“I agree, that move is too slow. It should be more like-”. Donnie stopped mid sentence, his last word being stretched out and slurred. Leo looked at his brother in concern.

“Donnie? Are you okay?”, Leo asked.

“Yes!”, Donnie quickly answered, holding up his pizza slice for his big brother to see, his speech continuing to be slurred ever so slightly. “It’s just, you know, when that bit of pizza hits the right spot”. He punctuated the last word with his knee nudging against yours. In turn you asked Casey about the thing he was talking about, before thrusting your fingers into Donnie’s slit once more, threatening to make the poor guy drop on the spot. This made Donnie hide a moan with another bit of his pizza slice.

You continued your torture on Donnie, until you felt the familiar hardness against your fingers. Donnie took in a big breath, bracing himself for the drop. But then, just before he could allow himself to slip out, you removed your fingers, wiping his slick off on his thigh. Donnie snapped his head towards you, his eyes boring into you and your smug smile. Leo once again asked his brother in concern if he was okay, forcing Donnie to turn his attention back to their conversation. How Donnie was gonna make you and your smugness pay for that.

As people finished their food and got ready to leave the table, you knew you had to act fast.

“Well, that was fun”, you smiled as you stood from the chair. “Thank you so much for dinner, but I should probably get home now-”.

“Oh no, you don’t!”, Donnie exclaimed, jumping from his chair, grabbing on to you before you could walk too far. The shocked expression on everyone's faces brought him back to reality, remembering that the two of you weren’t alone. Flustered and unsure of what to do, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, before running to his bedroom, leaving them staring after you in confusion.

Once inside Donnie’s bedroom, he slammed the door shut with a loud bang, using his foot. He wasted no time before throwing you onto the bed with a yelp. He climbed on top of you, holding your arms down by your head, and forcing your legs apart using the knee you had felt on a few moments ago. You giggled up at him, already knowing what danger you were in.

“What do you have to say for your defense?”, Donnie smiled mischievously, his face mere centimeters from yours, his thumbs stroking your wrists, and using his other leg to spread your other leg open for him.

“Upsi?”, you smiled innocently, giving your shoulders a small shrug.

“You just fingered me while I was talking to my brother, until I almost dropped right under the table, in front of my whole family, and all you have to say is; ‘upsi’?”, Donnie asked, giving you one last chance to redeem yourself.

“Yup!”, you nodded with a big smile, almost eager to see what your boyfriend was going to do about it.

Donnie tsked and shook his head from side to side, bringing your wrists to one hand, allowing his other hand to move down your body, feeling your sides as he moved his hand down to the button and zipper of your pants. “That was not the answer I was looking for, (Y/N)”.

“It wasn’t?”, you said, acting oblivious, fighting a satisfied smile as Donnie’s hand ran down past your pants and into your underwear. “I had no idea”.

Donnie’s hand grazed your sensitive folds, just like you had done to his cloaca just a few moments ago. At the feeling of your slick against his finger, Donnie smiled down at you. “Already wet?” He smoothed his finger against your wet folds, enjoying the way you curled your legs up around him. “Is that from teasing me during dinner?”

“Maybe”, you sighed, slightly grinding yourself against his finger to gain some friction.

Donnie removed his finger from your pants, causing you to whine, until he moved his attention back onto your pants, letting go off your wrists to use both hands to pull them down along with your underwear.

“Luckily for you”, Donnie said as he threw them onto the floor, before moving to pull your shirt off of you. “I feel like we’ve been through enough foreplay already”. He threw your top and bra onto the floor. “So lay back and let me fuck that tease out of you”.

Fair to say, your idea worked on Donnie like a charm.

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kenjo-arts · 6 months

Text

I am opening comissions!

Hello everyone, I’m re-opening commissions because I recently moved into my first apartment and my cat got immediately sick so money has gotten a bit tight. So if you’ve ever been interested in having me draw something for you, now is the time! :D

more info and commission examples under the cut!

If you’re interested you can contact me through DMs to commission me or ask further questions! sending asks for questions is good too!

Thank you for being interested in my commissions! Before sending your commission request please look at my guidelines and know that by commissioning me you agree to them:

general:

Commissioner can re-upload the image with credits.

The art is for personal use and cannot be used commercially, claimed as your own work, fed into an AI learning software, or turned into an NFT.

I reserve the right to post the commission on social media (you can ask to be tagged or remain anonymous) or use the finished art in my portfolio.

The estimated completion time is roughly 1-4 weeks.

Commissions are first come first serve. If you need a commission done quickly or by a certain deadline, let me know and I’ll let you know if I can get it done in time.

Large revisions that add a lot of time to the commission work will up the price. (redoing finished sketch from scratch, changing up large details in the rendering stage)

Price can be upped depending on the complexity of the drawing.

The commission will be sent to you via Email

I have a right to refuse any commission.

Payment:

Done by PayPal.

Payment before I start working. I will send you an invoice before I start working

I don’t allow full refunds because PayPal takes a cut of what I’m paid.

The item is a digital image

What I do/don’t:

I do

Original characters

Fanart

Furry/anthropomorphic

Light gore

I don’t

NSFW

Mecha

Real people

Heavy gore

Comics

Detailed backgrounds

Things that will make the process easier:

Good references of details.

Reference pictures if you have any

Stickman drawings of your idea/or pose.

Descriptions of what you envision.

If you have any specific way I've drawn before you like the look of, let me know, though I cannot promise to be able to replicate the look 1 for 1

General process:

Once I’ve accepted your commission and am ready to start drawing is when I’ll request the payment. once I have the payment I’ll start drawing.

I’ll send the sketches for revisions, and for the flat colours+ updates if it is a longer process.

Once these things are to your liking I’ll finish the commission and send it to you. You can request a couple of changes to the finished art within 24 hours of my completing it.

Prices: (is in US dollars)

Sketch flat colours :

Full body: 35 $

Half body: 30 $

Headshot: 20 $

Lineart colours :

Full body: 50 $

Half body: 40 $

Headshot: 35 $

Rendered :

Fullbody: 120 $

Half body: 100 $

Headshot: 80 $

Extra character : +70%

Comic flat colours :

Per pannel (2 characters): 20$

Extra character (per pannel the extra characters is in, not overall): 40%

Comic commissions will have a simple background like in the examples

commission examples (one is cropped due to the commissioner's wishes to remain anonymous)

#This is basically a copy of my old commission post but with some updated stuff but the prices are the same #I figured a new one would be better than sharing the old one

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targaryenluvs · 4 months

Text

BIRTHDAY GIRL

pairings: eleventh doctor x fem!reader (romantic), amy pond x fem!reader, rory williams x fem!reader

summary: the chaos of your boyfriend the doctor, amy, and rory organising your birthday. but seems there’s some miscommunication and clashes when it comes to agreeing.

warnings: none! fluff, bickering between eleven rory and amy over who knows you better, kisses, hugs, short blurb

a/n: no clue why i haven’t yet written for one of my fav shows yet

you’re slumber is ruined by extremely loud voices originating in the kitchen. it wasn’t even morning in your eyes yet everyone was awake. eleven being awake made sense but rory and amy? especially amy with how cranky she gets. speaking of eleven, he wasn’t in bed.

which wasn’t odd since he quite literally didn’t need sleep but he usually got out of bed when you woke up. you’d find him reading, tossing a ball up and down, talking to himself and you, some of the more tame times. once you found him trying to do gymnastics in bed.

as you got up and made your way into the kitchen you found the three of them with a cake. “no! no! you’ve got it wrong her hair isn’t that short rory!” amy scolded as rory sighed, “i swear it is! did she not get a haircut?” amy slapped him upside the head which had the doctor laughing, “that was me you dummy. and you, quit laughing and get to icing.” the doctor raised his hands,

“ah but you see, i already have!” rory and amy’s gasps were loud. “green! you put green love hearts on the cake and- is that a hat? oh god is it a fez? and a bow tie?” amy groaned as eleven reached to adjust his own, “bow ties are cool.” the three of them spoke in unison, “i quite adore your bow tie collection eleven.” rory’s eyes widened as he realised you’d seen them. “no, no, no, no! you are not supposed to be here.”

so you wait in the living room in the meanwhile. not long after the three come in, all holding a, special cake. whilst from one side it looked gorgeous the other was a mess. you spotted a drawing of the four of you holding hands, the tardis in the background and it looked as if a five year old had drawn it.

the party in the living room has copious amounts of clashing colours and themes and they all had flour and icing on their faces and clothes. “we’re sorry for ruining it.” amy frowned, they all looked like kicked puppies and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“ruin it? i’ve got to be one of the luckiest girls around to have three people love me so much that they fought over my birthday and what to do for it. i love the cakes and the party. thank you guys. seriously.” you smiled as everyone slowly cheered up.

“you like it seriously?” rory asked as you laughed, “yes i do you idiot.” you pulled them all into a tight hug as you all laughed. you registered the rogue hand placing a certain fez on you’re head.

“now who needs party hats when we have these bad boys.” the doctor grinned as you placed the fez at the centre of your head. “i’ve never looked better.” he smiled at you, “never.” you kissed him sweetly, a hand on his cheek as you glanced over at rory and amy fussing over who got to give you the first slice.

“yeah, i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” you had your people right here.

#eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor #doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #doctor who x fem!reader

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paper-crab · 5 months

Text

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

summary: letters to your past crushes get out and its a whole mess, based on the movie/book, yadayada

warnings: swearing, cliché, very rushed

wc: 6914

ignore any grammar mistakes it’s too long for me to reread and if it doesn’t flow smoothly i’m so sorry i rushed it so bad

Writing letters was an emotional release; something healthy to pass the time, and look back on later.

That’s why you’d written a series of letters, spanning from 3rd grade to now- senior year. They were intimate letters, ones you wrote to get your mind off of a crush you’d gained, so when you’d looked for the box to add a new letter and couldn’t find it, you freaked out.

Luckily, younger you was only able to get her hands on two addresses.

Unfortunately, those addresses were the two worst ones you could have gotten. Everybody else had either moved, or come out. They were irrelevant.

Who had gotten the letters, however, were not irrelevant: your school's player, and your best friend's boyfriend. You were fully in panic mode now, how are you supposed to recover from that? You can only contemplate your options for so long before anxiety eats at you. Maybe if you skipped a week or so of school it would blow over.

“Yeah, not happening. Rise and shine.”

You groan. “Dad, you don’t understand. This could ruin my life, I might actually die.”

He doesn’t respond, leaving you to grovel and pick up the pieces of your pride.

In order to avoid your friend's boyfriend, you need to avoid her, which means you’re walking around school alone. You know you’ll need to have that awkward conversation, telling him ‘I liked you when you were just my childhood best friend- those feelings have passed’, but you also know that you are going to avoid it for as long as humanly possible. Asserting yourself was never really your strong suit.

You had grown up next door to her boyfriend, and fell out of touch with him in middle school. While he was blossoming as a social butterfly, you lurked in the background, like a moth drawn to his effervescent light. Like the sun, the light was too hot for you to stay in, and you stopped talking until mid junior year when your friend had reintroduced you.

The other letter, the heartthrob, had been a lot kinder in middle school. You’d heard some not-so-kind stories about him recently though, and they were the exact opposite of the kid, Matt, that you knew.

You hadn’t been particularly close or anything, only exchanging a few words in your 7th grade math class, but you were infatuated with him. When you were younger, he hardly talked, but lacrosse had brought him out of his shell; the shell you’d never managed to crack- or rather the cocoon you’d never emerged from.

Matt probably didn’t know your name, even though you’d boldly signed it in your letter, so you were confident he wouldn’t find you. It’d be just another day for him, hopefully.

Your friend's boyfriend, on the other hand, was constantly with you. He lived right next door to you, and you felt like it was impossible to avoid him. You’d try to get through the school day without an encounter, then lock yourself in your room to never be seen again.

The first couple periods you had? Had gone off without a hitch. Then you hit lunch, and even if you tried, you couldn’t run from your friend forever. She found you, her boyfriend trailing behind.

“I missed you this morning!” She tells you, reaching to give you a hug. You don’t do much but nervously laugh, pulling away from her. “Yeah, I came late.” You lied.

“Ugh I wish, I’m going to get lunch, you coming with?” She says, more to her boyfriend than you. He shakes his head, “I’m good.”

“Alright, be back in a minute!”

“Can we ta-”

You cut him off immediately, nervous laughter coming back. “I have a test to study for, so I’m going to the library, sorry. We’ll catch up later. He knows what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really want to talk about it himself.

After excusing yourself, you make a beeline for the library, seeking a moment of respite. The library turns out not to offer that much solace either, because you see Matt’s two brothers enter, meaning he can’t be far behind. When he rounds the corner, his eyes land on you, lighting up slightly. You see him excuse himself from his brothers, and you immediately stand and run out of there, muttering “Nope, no, no,” under your breath. The sound of you slamming the library door open definitely isn’t quiet.

You can’t help but begin to panic, packing up your things and abruptly running out of the school, through the parking lot, and jumping into your car. If studying wasn’t how you were going to escape the situation, avoiding lunch apparently was. It’s tempting, incredibly so, to skip the rest of your day, but you know you’d be in so much trouble. You can’t handle that right now.

You head back in and continue your day, just praying, wishing, dreaming that you won’t encounter the two people you don’t want to see most- but now you’re seeing them out of the corner of your eye in every passing period; and you can’t even confide in the one person you most want to.

The school day ending feels like your saving grace. You’re exhausted, mentally and physically, from running away from your friend and her boyfriend, and narrowly avoiding Matt didn’t help.

You walk out of the school, into the parking lot towards the direction of your car, ready to be done with the day.

In highschool, you’re never done.

Your friend's boyfriend is leaning against your car, looking around for you, arms crossed. You make a sharp left, in the direction of the lacrosse field and bleachers. You’re not really thinking about it when you do it, it’s just the closest shelter, other than walking back in the hellhole that is the school.

You make your way onto the bleachers mindlessly, trying not to think about the events of today. You set your backpack next to you, not realizing there’s an unexpected guest making his way up to the top of the bleachers where you sat.

“Hi.” You jump, startled by the sudden voice as he sits next to you. You recognize that voice, obviously, so you flinch before turning to him. “Y/n, right?”

You nod, not sure how to continue this. There’s a plethora of things he could say, and you’d rather not hear any of them. Matt taps his fingers on the bleachers, waiting for you to acknowledge that he’s said anything; when you realize you nod.

“Look,” he starts, and that’s never a good sign, “Your letter was really kind and whatever, but I just broke up with my girlfriend. I’m not really ready for anything serious, so if you’re looking for casual-”

“I wrote that in 7th grade.”

“Oh.” He says, scratching his head. “Why’d you send the letter then?” You look to your left, spotting your friend's boyfriend walking towards you, and you panic.

“Kiss me,”

“Okay.” He shrugs, grabbing you. His eyes are closed, but you don’t bother closing yours. You’re a bit busy glancing in the direction of your other victim, and when you watch his face fall as he turns back around, you finally close your eyes. “Not that I’m mad about it, but what just happened?”

“It’s really hard to explain, but you’re not the only one that got a letter. The other person is my best friends boyfriend,”

“Damn. That’s low of you, and I’m not special? My feelings are hurt.” He smiles a little bit, trying to ease your tense expression. “I wrote his before I ever wrote yours, and before they knew each other. I can’t talk to him, though, and if she ever finds out, it'll break her heart.”

“Okay, respect. I gotta get to practice, but I’ll find you tomorrow?”

You want to say no, but you don’t. He did just do you a big favor after all. “Yeah, see you then.”

He sticks to his words, finding you in the library the next day. His mouth twists into a grin when he sees you, and he shuffles over holding eye contact with you.

“Hey,” He says, slightly whispering. It might be lunch, but the librarian is still strict. She wants to preserve the quiet atmosphere of the room, in which you can only hear the sound of flipping pages and an occasional murmur. “Mind if I join?” He settles in next to you.

“Uhm.. listen,” You say, launching into a monologue, “about the whole letter thing, It’s, uh, not what it seems. Well it is, but it’s not. I wrote those letters a long time ago, and they don’t reflect my feelings now, and I never meant for them to get out, so, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into it, and I’m sorry you did, get dragged into it, that is.”

“If you didn’t mean for them to get out, why would you send them?” He questions, tilting his head.

“I didn’t send them.”

“Okay, uhm, who did?”

“I don’t know, but I cannot talk to my friend's boyfriend, like ever.”

He nods, a mixture of concern and confusion evident on his face, like he’s really mulling the situation over.

“So, someone sent those letters behind your back? That’s not cool, dude. Messed up, but I think we can help each other out here, take control of the situation.” A wicked grin takes over his face. If you squint hard enough you can imagine a lightbulb over his head, like he’s had an “aha!” moment. “I have an idea,”

“What do you mean, control?”

“Yeah, control. Think about it, we fake date. You need your friend’s boyfriend off your back, and I need my ex to get jealous and come back to me. Win win, and it gives us a chance to control the narrative.”

“Yeah, I mean… it could work, maybe?” You respond, uncertainty in your tone. “How would it even work?

“I don’t see how it couldn’t.”

“Okay, I guess, but I don’t see how it could be that simple.”

“Yeah, it could. Trust me, we play it smart, manipulate the situation, and we get what we want.”

“Okay, yeah. Let’s do it.”

“You sure about this?” Matt asks, searching your eyes for confirmation.

“Yeah, I mean, you said it best. I can’t talk to him about this, not for a long while, anyways.”

“Sick.”

“So, uhm, what next?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, rules and stuff?”

“You want rules, you make ‘em’” He shrugs. You grab out a notebook, labeling the top ‘Rules’ in neat handwriting. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“No kissing,” you start writing, and Matt groans.

“If we’re not kissing, how do you expect anyone to believe we’re dating?” You squirm a little bit.

“Matt,” you say in a hushed tone. Heat rises to your cheeks. “I don’t really kiss people,”

“Wait,” he chuckles, trying to make a joke, “was I your first kiss?”

When you don’t answer, he gasps. It almost makes him feel bad, but not enough to apologize. “No kissing then,” he confirms, trying to steer the conversation forward. “What else?”

“No couple-y social media shit,”

“Agreed. We keep it low-key.” He nods. “What about spending time together? How often do we go on dates, and are we hanging out all the time?”

“I don’t know, maybe like, once a week? And I don’t wanna be around your friends all the time.”

“You don’t want to be around yours either,” he points out.

“Fair point. Once a week, I hang out with you?”

“Most days, yeah.”

“Also, no meeting the parents. That makes it too real.” You add.

“Off the table. Oh, I’m not calling you babe or any of that gross shit.” He says. You pale at the thought, literally gagging. “Please don’t, I think I’d throw up.”

“That it?” He laughs at you.

“Uh, yeah, I think so.”

The bell rings. “I’ll walk you to class,”

Your face morphs into confusion. “Why would you do that?”

“To make it seem like we’re really dating..?”

“Oh. Yeah,”

He walks you to class, hugging you when he drops you off. “Meet by the bleachers after school?”

“Yeah,” You say, slightly dazed by his request.

When you walk out of your classroom, you let your mind wander back to his ask, ‘what could he possibly want’ playing through your head. You walk through the front doors, taking a sharp left towards the bleachers; just like yesterday.

You’re not waiting for very long when Matt sneaks up on you, whispering “Boo.” into your ear.

You jump, caught off guard, but that’s besides the point.

“Hey,” he says, putting his hands on your waist.

“What are you doing?”

“People are looking.” He shrugs a little. You’re eager for him to get to the point; the longer you’re away from your bed, the more cozy and inviting it sounds. He clears his throat. “I need your number,”

He’s careful to make it come out as a whisper so surrounding students don’t hear. To them, you’re already a couple.

“And your address, so I can pick you up tomorrow.”

“What?”

“As your boyfriend, I’ll be driving you to school, and home, and I need to pick you up for our date too.”

“Date tomorrow?”

“If you’re free, for the ‘spending time together’ bit,” he says, pulling his hands from your waist and doing air quotes with his fingers.

“I can drive myself,” You tell him, as he grabs his phone out and hands it to you sneakily. You proceed to put your number in, and your address, before handing it back to you.

“You can, but it’s more convincing if we come together.” He murmurs, absorbed in drafting you a message. After a moment, you hear the familiar ping of a notification.

“There,” he grins proudly, showing you the message. “Now it’s official.”

The morning sun casts a warm glow on you, making you feel cozy and relaxed, despite the nerves growing. The idea of Matt, and his brothers, coming to pick you up scares you a bit. You fiddle with the strap of your backpack as you wait on your front porch.

When you see a car pull up, you know that’s your cue to start walking down your driveway. Matt hops out, rushing to hug you and open the passenger door for you.

“Doesn’t Chris usually sit there?” You ask quietly, still smiling to keep up the charade. “Yeah, I made him move.” He whispers back before he walks to the driver's seat.

“Good morning,” Nick says, sounding completely done. Chris doesn’t even raise his head, giving you a small wave. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys.” You say softly, not wanting to disturb them. You think them going out of their way to pick you up this morning was disturbing enough.

The car ride was a mixture of awkward silence and small talk. Nick and Chris are both too tired to engage much, but Matt is trying his hardest to keep them involved.

You pull up to the school gates after a short while, Matt parks the car. You get out and he walks over to you, joining your hands while you walk in. He gives you a reassuring smile as you walk in, “Don’t worry, they’re not always like this in the morning. I promise it’s not personal.”

You nod, trying your best to offer a smile that comes out faint. “Yeah, I won’t take it personally. Thanks again for the ride, Matt.”

“Of course,”

The second you get into the school, Nick and Chris part ways with you two. You’re still holding hands, you realize, when the murmurs and glances direct themselves towards you. Matt can feel the anxious energy you radiate because of it, so he leans in to whisper in your ear, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Don’t worry, it’ll blow over soon.”

For all the stories you’d heard about him, you hadn’t expected him to be even half as polite. Maybe it’s because you were faking, you decide.

The rest of the day seems to float by in a blur, but Matt was right; the buzz around your relationship did seem to dissipate the more people saw you together. During lunch, you find yourself next to Matt. You’re doing your best to maintain the facade with his lacrosse friends, Chris among the group.

You can feel the stare of your best friend and her boyfriend though, and it only brings back those feelings of guilt and anxiety. You’re grateful for the distraction of food, though, because it provides you an out from conversations.

You’re not used to basking in the light like this.

As the bell rings, you feel a mixture of relief and apprehension. Matt walks you to your last class, of course, offering you a quick hug before parting ways.

The class passed by slowly as you try to piece together the events of the day. In under a week, you went from a nobody with 3 friends to a somebody dating one of the most popular boys. Fake dating.

When you’re finally dismissed from the shackles of public school, you feel an odd sense of relief. You know it won’t last very long because of your scheduled date tonight, but it’s there nonetheless.

You find Matt waiting outside your classroom, as promised, a smile on his face. He falls into step beside you as you make your way towards his car. The chatter of surrounding students fades into background noise when you’re with him. A cool breeze dances through the air, making you shiver a bit. For a moment, you stayed silent, enjoying the comfort he brought you just by being next to you.

It was reminiscent of middle school; his silence made you comfortable because you weren’t alone.

“Wait, don’t you have lacrosse practice?” You interrupt.

“I take Nick home everyday, I have time to take you too.”

You nod. As you navigate through the sea of juniors and seniors preparing to leave, Matt turns his head towards you. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, concern evident.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, offering a chuckle and a hesitant smile, “Just processing the day, you know? It’s kinda weird.”

He nods understandingly, turning his head back towards the car that Nick is already waiting at. The ride to your home feels significantly shorter when you engage in pleasant conversation with Nick and Matt.

Despite the guilt you feel over keeping up this act, the conversation flows genuinely and you find yourself really enjoying it. He pulls into your driveway, putting the car in park and smiling at you.

“Thank you, and thanks for today.”

“No problem, I’ll see you tonight?”

“You bet,” You say, waving goodbye to Nick. You walk into your house and feel like a puddle of goo, every emotion flooding your body in one go. It’s only the second day of pretending, and you’re feeling like a fly stuck in a web of lies.

Despite your conflicting feelings, you begin to get ready for your date, feeling genuine excitement. Even if it’s just as friends, Matt is really pleasant to be around.

Matt: Movie at 7:30?

You: Perfect, see you then.

The hours tick by as you prepare yourself to hang out with him. You hear a knock on your front door that makes you jump. “Dad, I'm going out!” You yell, rushing out to join Matt.

You weren’t expecting him to hug you when you stepped out. There was no one around to keep it up for, but you decided not to question it. “Hi Matt,”

“Hi.” He grins, pulling away from you. “I didn’t buy tickets yet because I wanted you to choose the movie,”

“You didn’t have to do that.” You tell him, heart filled with gratitude. It was a small gesture, yet it immediately made your middle school crush on him come back.

“I feel like you know a lot about me, so I thought you choosing the movie would help me learn something about you.” He said as you pulled into the movie theater parking lot.

“Yeah, I’ll pick.” You giggle at him, hopping out. When you walk in, you’re overwhelmed by the aggressive scent of buttered popcorn. Matt glanced around, beginning to guide you to the ticket counter. “Shit, that’s my ex.”

“It’s cool, play up the pda to make her more jealous,”

His arm wraps around your waist as he leans into you, pretending to whisper something in your ear. When you walk up to the counter, he unwraps his arm for a mere second to grab his wallet.

“Movie?” He asks. You tell him and he nods. “Two tickets please, he hands his ex his card.

“Hi, Matt.” She says, smiling at him. You immediately get possessive vibes that make you feel uncomfortable, but that means the plan is working. “Oh hey,” He smiles lightly, acting nonchalant.

“Who’s this?” You can literally feel the jealousy she's emitting, and it makes you shift in his grasp. “This is my girlfriend, the tickets?”

“Oh, sorry.” She hands him the tickets, making sure to brush his hand while she glared at you. As you walk towards the next counter to buy popcorn, you start laughing. “I don’t think she liked me much.”

“Good, means the plan is working.” He says, going to fish for his wallet again.

“Nuh-uh. My turn.”

“That’s not really how dates work, but nice try.”

It feels like the hours have crept away from you. The movie comes to an end, despite you willing it to last longer. Matt offers you a hand and pulls you up, making sure to hold your hand when you exit the theater. It almost makes your heart flutter; then you remember why he’s doing it.

“So, what did you think of the movie?” He says, offering you his jacket when you step into the brisk air. You smile, feeling fulfillment while you slide his jacket on. “I liked it, thanks for letting me choose. And, um, thanks for tonight. It was… interesting.”

“No problem,” he says, sounding relaxed. “I liked it too. We make a good fake couple, don’t we?”

You continue chatting while you walk to the car, and while he drops you off. Matt gets out to walk you up to your door, genuinely surprising you. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” He says, offering you another hug. You slide off his jacket and melt into him before handing it back. “Thanks, Matt.”

“See you tomorrow morning?”

You nod.

You close the door behind you, feeling the weight of the day settle into your skin. You’re beginning to ease into the fake relationship; even as the facade gets increasingly complex. You sink into your bed, shifting off to dreamland.

As the week goes on, your arrangement only gets better. You avoid your friend's boyfriend, and he starts getting desperate texts from his ex. By the end of the week, you’re sure he’s close to breaking it off.

When Matt drops you off at home on Friday afternoon, you’re insanely smiley. You feel on top of the world. The day seemed normal enough, for your new normal anyways, but there was an odd air of tension everywhere you went. You knew something was wrong when your best friend landed on your doorstep mere moments later.

She was your best friend for a reason- you trusted her with almost everything, so she didn’t understand why this week, you’d suddenly gone ghost. You normally talked every second of every hour if you could, but this week, your communication had been limited to fleeting glances across the cafeteria, or in the hallway.

You open your front door to find her standing there, eyes ablaze with anger. “Hey.. what’s up?” You say, prompting her to talk and cut through the thick silence.

“Where have you been all week?”

“At school..?”

“No, I mean, where have you been? You avoided me on Monday, and you started dating Matthew Sturniolo out of nowhere; I didn’t even know you were talking! I’ve barely seen you this week and normally we spend all our time together. Something isn’t right.”

You feel like you’re shrinking under her intense gaze. Stammering out an apology isn’t really working for her, or you, because the weight of your fabricated relationship with Matt pinned your tongue. “It’s not like that..”

“Don’t give me that!” She says, glaring at you. “We tell each other everything. Why are you shutting me out now?”

You wrack your brain for an excuse, trying to think of anything to get her off your back when you remember a conversation you’d had with her about Matt. “Look, I know I’ve been unfair to you… but I know you don’t like Matt, and I really do. I’ve been caught up with him, and I didn’t want to tangle you into it because I know you don’t like him.”

“He’s a dick.” She says to you, bluntly. “I don’t think you should be dating him, much less talking to him and ignoring me for him. Haven’t you heard the shit he’s pulled with other girls?”

“Of course I have but-”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not different. He’s going to leave you in the dust too.”

Her words cut through you, sharp and painful. The truth hovered on the tip of your tongue, but the weight of secrecy still held it down. You didn’t know how to get out of this one. “He’s not like that with me,” you attempt to defend, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. “People change, you know?”

“You’re being naïve, and I hate seeing you like this. Ignoring your best friend for a guy who’s going to hurt you in the end.”

You’re feeling shackled, like you’re in the ocean trying to stay above the surface, but there’s a weight tied to your ankle.

“I appreciate your concern,” you say, voice shaking “but I know what I’m doing. We’re happy together. You say, a feigned smile gracing your lips. Her harsh glare softens. “I trust you. Just, be careful. Okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod, acting like you’re relieved, but the pit in your stomach only deepens as the web of woven lies becomes more intricate. She leaves, and you close the door behind you, sinking down to the floor.

All of this because of some letters.

The sound of a message coming through your phone snaps you out of your contemplation. You glance at it, immediately smiling when you see Matt’s name pop up.

Matt: Hangout tomorrow? Nick and Chris r asking

You: Yeah, what time?

Matt: Noon?

You: I’ll be there

Matt: I’ll pick you up

You heart the message, standing from the floor. When you retire for the night, your friend's warning re-enters your mind. You know she’s right, but the reality of your fake dating thing with Matt tugs you back into its tangled web, as it always does.

Each text from Matt, while making you smile, feels like another string of deceit weaving into a thousand more. It just deepens as time goes on. The lure of his attention and the comfort of the familiarity you feel with him vie against the guilt that gnaws at your conscience.

You’ve realized the gravity of the situation, but the truth remains locked in, barricaded by fear and the entanglements you’ve created. You want to call it off, you’ve wanted to, but you don’t want to risk falling into a chasm of more confrontations- from both your friend, and her boyfriend.

You try to shove it out of your mind so you can sleep though, preparing for your day with Matt tomorrow.

When you wake up the next morning, you feel giddy. You put more effort into getting ready than you normally would on a Saturday. Then, there’s a knock on your door and a hug awaiting you. This time, you don’t question if people are around, you just accept it with a grin.

“Nick and Chris wanted to come get you,” He tells you, pulling you down the driveway. Yet again, the front seat is empty for you. The energy of the triplets was infectious, in the best way possible. You immediately found yourself comforted by their presence, the simplicity of just being around them had an inexplicable effect on your already good mood.

The drive feels effortless as you settle into conversation with the group. It reminds you of how uncomfortable you’d been mere days ago, and how much had changed. You kind of frown at the thought, but quickly catch it. Matt’s smile never faltered though, leaving you with an odd sense of melancholy when you’re reminded that it’s all fake.

You can’t help but be surprised by your surroundings when you enter the house. You knew the outside, obviously having known the address, but the inside exceeds all your expectations. Family pictures litter the walls, candles are everywhere. It’s cute.

“Your parents aren’t here, right?” You whisper. “Nope.”

“So, what should we do?” Chris speaks up, cutting through the silence. You shrug in response while Matt and Nick go into deep thought.

“We should bake!”

“Nope.” Matt says at the same time you say “Okay.”

When Matt hears you, he turns in your direction. Seeing your smile at the presented idea, he changes his mind. “Yeah, baking sounds good.”

Nick glances at him skeptically, the switch-up being unusual. When your eyes wander towards Chris, you notice his confusion too.

“Baking it is.” Nick mumbles, leading you to the kitchen.

“Alright, what are we making?” Chris pipes in, pulling out various bowls. “Brownies?” Matt suggests, “I think we have a mix and I don’t wanna run to the store right now.”

“Wait, we’re awful at baking. Why are we baking?” Chris questions, wracking his brain to find the answer.

“It’ll be eventful,” Nick replies.

“If we mess shit up and it gets messy, I’m blaming it on you.”

Nick groans, going to grab the mix and the various ingredients listed on the box. “If you do that, I’m gonna tell mom about that time that you-”

“And that’s enough!” Matt cuts him off, grabbing eggs out of Nick’s hand. He ushers you further into the action of the kitchen, imploring you to get comfortable.

“You bake a lot?” He asks, smiling.

“Not really,” You admit, laughing at the commotion surrounding you. It’s fascinating to you how those around you have become such an integral part of your everyday life in the week you’d known them, despite only being in your circle for under a week.

You know your relationship with Matt is false- how could you not? You remind yourself constantly, but these new relationships you’d forged because of Matt? Some of the realest ones you’d ever experienced.

A crack snaps you out of your thoughts, followed by a millisecond of silence. “Chris!” Nick yells, looking at the fallen egg.

“How is this my fault?!” Matt finds himself laughing with you.

The brownies turn out so horribly burnt you’re not even sure if you can call them brownies anymore, and the mess is colossal, but even when Matt drops you off you only have good things to say about, and to, the group.

“Thank you,”

“Of course. I’ll pick you up on Monday?”

“See you then.” You say, waving to Nick and Chris.

The next couple weeks go by so smoothly, you almost forget you’re acting. They’re relatively the same as the first, save for more interactions with your friend. Being with Matt and his brothers, and even his friends, feels natural. Your weeks become more routine, and the plan is working. Matt’s ex is obviously getting more green as time goes on, and your friend's boyfriend won’t even spare you a passing glance.

By your one-month ‘anniversary’, you’re almost 100% sure you two are in the clear. You’re waiting at home for Matt to pick you up, excited to be with him, but feeling a pit on your stomach nonetheless. When you hear the now-familiar knock on your door, you can’t help but run to answer it.

“Hi Matt,”

“Hi.” He smiles and reaches out to hug you, like normal, but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes in the way it usually does. It’s missing its charm. He guides you to the car, sure to open the passenger door for you, but the gesture is missing its usual warmth. He takes you to this cute diner, one that you’ve mentioned in a passing conversation, but the earlier apprehension you felt only grows stronger.

When you sit down, you finally decide you can’t take it anymore. “Is something wrong, Matt?”

“Not wrong, really. My ex wants me back. She texted me the other night,”

“Oh,” Is all you can say, trying to force a smile to your face. “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” He says. You’re not sure if you’re grasping at straws, but you feel like he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself too. “Do you think you’re okay to break this off?”

“Uhm, yeah. I think my friend’s boyfriend is leaving me alone.” You nod at him, looking everywhere but his face. “Should we just go?”

He can’t argue with that, so instead of getting that cute little dinner date you were promised, you’re sitting back in Matt’s car in silence as he drives you home. The atmosphere felt heavy. You’re stopped at a red light when you finally glance over at him for the first time this entire ride back. He’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, a nervous tic you’d never noticed before, while his eyes are set on the traffic lights.

“I’m sorry,” He finally says, the second the light turns green.

“For what?” You reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

“For coming up with this idea. It was stupid and I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t be sorry, Matt. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed. It wasn’t stupid; it did what we wanted it to do.”

He nodded, but your gaze lingered on him. You could see the mixture of guilt and gratitude swirling through his eyes. “At least it’s over, right? We manipulated the situation.” You say, trying to bring up the mood. You’re trying not to make something of nothing, but his mood seems just as melancholic as yours. “At least it’s over.”

When the car reaches your house, Matt can’t find it in himself to move, to walk you to your door. He hears your seatbelt click, signaling that you’re taking your leave.

“See you around?”

“See you around, Matt.”

When you exit the car, a bittersweet realization washes over Matt. This isn’t what he wanted. He grips the steering wheel, hurriedly putting his car into reverse. He can’t linger any longer, or he’ll make a rash decision and run back to you. He wanted his ex back, and now that’s what he’s getting.

The next day, you wake up with absolutely zero pep in your step. You drag yourself out of bed, drag yourself into your car, and drag yourself through the halls in the morning. The entire world seems more quiet without Matt next to you; your steps echo in your ears. You catch glimpses of familiar faces, but today, they seem almost alien. It makes you wish you’d never left your bed. By lunch, everybody knows something is wrong. Your spot by Matt’s side has been reclaimed by his ex girlfriend. You don’t miss the pitying looks his friends give you, especially Nick and Chris.

You never realized how humiliating it’d be when people saw that Matt left you for his ex.

You settle in your old spot, across from your best friend and her boyfriend, trying to make the whole thing feel natural. It doesn’t.

The whispers and glances you’re receiving from others feel like needles pricking at your already unsettled emotions, and your friend’s compassionate eyes don’t make you feel any more comfortable.

“Matt’s a jerk. I hate him.” She tells you, and it hurts your heart a bit.

“I don’t.” You reply, voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the situation pressing on you. She winces at you defending him, but rebounds. There’s a strong desire to call him every name in the book, but resorts to saying “I can't believe he would do that to you.”

You want to tell her the truth, the lies of the situation having weighed heavy on your mind, but you know that’d defeat the purpose. You thought that when you’d ended the relationship, the entanglement of fibs you’d found yourself in would unravel, but you feel as though they’d only gotten more complicated. “You told me he would.” You say, pushing your school lunch around. She winces again.

“I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.”

When Matt stands next to his ex, who all his friends tell him is a catch, he can’t help but feel empty. His eyes wander away from his table, landing on you. Memories flood back, a mixture of genuine and orchestrated moments swirling within his mind. He’s completely dipped out of the conversation his friends are having, his grip on his new-old girlfriend's waist weakening as he thinks of you.

He catches the slightest glimpse of your eyes, one that you immediately divert; a mixture of confusion and hurt sprinkled within. A pant of guilt hits him, but he tries to forget about it as he turns back to the conversation presented to him.

“What’s gotten into you dude?” Someone asks. Matt shrugs, trying to stay involved. His eyes wander back to you, and then over to Chris, who mouths “Get her back.” at him.

He tries to pretend like he didn’t see that. He has what he wants, his girlfriend, and you have what you want, maybe.

He knows one thing: he doesn’t like the hole your absence has left in his daily routine.

The week comes and goes, Friday night rolling around and the pain of losing each other doesn’t go away. Matt’s battling himself internally to convince himself that both you and him are happier apart; he knows that’s not true. You’re fighting with yourself constantly to not spill your guts to someone, pressure that you had shared with him before the fake, but impossibly real split, weighing on you. It’s past midnight by the time your wandering mind calms enough for you to sleep.

At this point, Matt’s drafted up about 4 text messages to you, and none of them convey what he’s truly wanted to say. He called it off already with his ex-ex girlfriend. The moment she’d started badmouthing you in front his friends put a sour taste in his mouth; that, and he’d realized he was searching for you in every one of their interactions.

He’s restless, consumed by thoughts of longing for your presence. In the silence of the night, he’s grabbing his keys and heading. You think you’re imagining it when you’re awoken by the stall of an engine, but you’re forced to confront the taps on your window.

As you slowly approach the window, pulling back the curtain, you're confronted by Matt’s anxious gaze, illuminated by the faint, cool glow of the moonlight. You rush downstairs, barely stopping to slide a hoodie and some shoes on. The mix of emotions you feel are mirrored in his expression- a blend of nervousness, vulnerability, and longing. With the weight of unspoken words hanging between you, he opens his arms, pulling you in for a warm hug. He’s worried you won’t hear him out, desperate to express what he wanted to tell you in his unsent messages, but his desire to hold you far outweighs his uneasiness.

“I couldn’t keep lying to myself, and you.” He says, face buried in your neck. “I’ve been lost without you, and I can’t pretend I’m happier this way. I miss us, even if it wasn’t real.” His voice contains traces of sincerity, regret, and insecurity, but he feels a sense of strong relief take over at his admission. “I know it was fake- it started out fake- but I’m in love with you now.”

His honesty resonates as his eyebrows unfurrow, his entire body relaxing, and the weight that’s been dragging you to the bottom of the ocean is shed. Rather than sinking, you’re floating peacefully above the soft waves. You pull away from him, your anxieties dissipating like mist under the moonlight. The depth of his words stir an array of emotions within you: astonishment, relief, and a spark of hope. You search his calm eyes, being practically slapped in the face by his sincere and loving expression.

You can’t help but kiss him, seeing the way the moon puts an ethereal glow on his gestures. “I missed us too,” You start, in a soft voice. The air between you is finally cleared. “and I love you too.”

“Can we date, for real this time?” Matt blurts out, going to kiss you again. He feels intoxicated, your second-ever kiss not being a fraction of enough to sate his ever-growing hunger.

You might have started as a fraud, but somewhere along the way, when the tides shifted and your world changed, you emerged from your cocoon, into a glorious and charismatic butterfly.

“If you’ll have me as your girlfriend, for real this time.”

He kisses you again.

#matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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