#does NOT want to go back to it as well as the other girls showing a lot of guilt for it 25 years later imagine that! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nakylvr · 8 hours ago

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— BACK TO ME

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary જ⁀➴ after an argument breaks out and hurtful things are thrown, you leave for a few days, and daniela realizes just how much she needs you

warnings/tags જ⁀➴ angst with happy ending, language, established relationship, dealer!dani au, arguments

now playing જ⁀➴ back to me by the rose

things had been straining recently. with tax season coming up you spent most of your days after work trying to figure out how to not get completely fucked over and get a ton of money taken out. you also got promoted at your job, which was both a blessing and a curse. more money was always a good thing, but your patience was already wearing thin when the argument started.

you had just gotten home, wanting nothing more than to relax when you realized daniela wasn't in the apartment. too tired, you shrug it off and lay down on the couch, still in your work clothes, not bothering to change. you ended up falling asleep faster than you anticipated.

when the front door opened, it was dark outside. you could hear it, but you couldn't find it in you to get up.

"yn?" daniela's voice is heard quietly. "what are you doing on the couch?"

you hum, opening your eyes groggily and looking up at her. "where were you?" you mumble.

"had to run out real quick," she answers. "come on, let's go to bed."

"for hours?" you say before you can think.

daniela's expression changes at your words, but you don't notice past the dark in the room. "i needed to do some stuff," she responds. "i'm sorry." she doesn't know why she's saying it. most likely out of fear that this conversation will spiral out of control after all the bullshit that happened earlier in the year. she doesn't want a fight right now, and she's trying to keep it from happening.

"who were you with?" you ask, slowly sitting up.

"minji," daniela answers truthfully. "she needed some help getting a gift for hanni, then she came with me for a deal that i had to do on the way back."

your eyebrows furrowed together, looking back at her. "you let her go along with you?" you inquired.

"yeah?" dani replies, but it comes out unsure. "i knew you were getting off work late and i didn't want to bother you."

"but you let minji go with you?" you press. "you told me i was the only one."

"well, yes. but minji's my close friend, i–"

"didn't see anything wrong with it?" you cut her off. "cause it looks a little weird when all your clients know me and then you show up with some other girl that's not me? let me guess, you saw keeho?"

"how did you–" daniela gets cut off again by you talking over her.

"he texted me," you tell her. "asking, and i quote 'who this random chick' is with you instead of me. so it's not just me thinking i'm crazy."

"i didn't say you were crazy," daniela quickly says, shaking her head. "baby, please, this isn't that serious. you know minji."

"but other people don't," you respond. "what if it wasn't keeho?"

"i-" daniela stops herself, taking a breath. "this is the only time i've brought someone other than you."

"but why?" you stand up from the couch, making daniela take a few steps backwards. "you're the one who tells me that you don't let anyone go because you don't want them to see, but minji is just a different story or something?"

"it's one time!" daniela says, her voice raising slightly. "why does it matter?"

"why does it matter?" you repeat. "you tell me, daniela. you tell me." you cross your arms over your chest.

daniela is quiet for a minute, trying to think of the right thing to say to not upset you more. "i know what you're thinking, but this isn't a big deal. i let her come along because it was keeho. nothing else, no other reason," she tells you. "i promise."

"not a big deal, you keep saying that," your voice turns sharp. "what's not a big deal? that i'm reasonably concerned when you're out hours past when i got back and tell me you were doing some stuff, helping minji get a gift for hanni, and do a deal? because those are multiple different answers."

"oh my god," daniela mumbles, looking around before back at you. "yn, seriously, it's nothing."

"give me your phone," you demand.

"what?" she looks at you confused.

"consider this a phone check. give it to me." you hold your hand out.

"you're serious?" daniela asks. when you don't answer, just stare at her, she pulls her phone out of her pocket and hands it to you. "jesus christ," she grumbles under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

looking through the recent messages, your fingers hover over one specifically, and when you glance up from the phone to look at daniela, she feels her heart drop to her stomach at the expression on your face.

"so what? you have clients wanting to get you shit for valentines day? is that the excuse you're going to give?" you say seriously, tilting your head to the side.

"what?" daniela lets out. "no one has–"

"what's this about then?" you hold the phone towards her, showing a thread of messages.

"that's jaehyun!" daniela exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. "he's my friend!"

"and you know i don't like how close he is with you!" you retort, your voice raising. "every time we go to his place it's like i don't even exist! he's obviously hitting on you!"

"he literally isn't! he's gay!" daniela scoffs, shaking her head. "plus, he literally has a boyfriend!"

"well that didn't stop you the first time, did it?" the words come out faster than you could think.

"right," daniela scoffs again, nodding her head. "right, because it's always my fault, isn't it? i'm always the one fucking up, right?"

"yeah!" you nod. "you're the one who says you can pull anyone, and then you act like i'm fucking crazy when people are all over you and i don't like it! like it's not right for me to feel upset even though i'm your girlfriend!"

"i've never called you crazy! when have i once said that?!" daniela's voice starts getting louder, nearing the edge of yelling.

"but you look at me like it!" you end up yelling first. "like-like it's a problem that i get jealous! you're allowed to have your hands all over me when i'm with my friends when you're jealous but when you have three different girls who give you thousands of dollars each month all over you it's weird when i get defensive and jealous!? that's not fair, daniela!"

"so what? i'm supposed to just sit there while girls eye-fuck you or try to get all close?!" daniela retorts. "you don't even know! you're so fuckin' naive that you think everyone just wants to be friends!"

"naive? i'm naive?" you let out a laugh, shaking your head. "right, sorry for being nice enough to make friends who don't just want to fuck me for some shit!"

"they still want to fuck you!" daniela yells. "look at sophia! you ran to her when shit got hard and look what happened! who's telling me that you won't go run off to some other 'friend' of yours only for them to fuck you while you were still mine!"

you stop once sophia's name is spoken. daniela knew better than to bring her up after the events that happened, knowing how much you regretted your stupid decision and how bad you felt about it afterwards. but in the heat of the argument, the second the words leave daniela's mouth you're standing there in silence.

"you know what," you eventually speak up. "maybe i will."

"will what?" daniela asks, seemingly not realizing what she said and how you took it.

you shake your head, letting out a scoff. you toss her phone on the couch and walk into the bedroom, not saying another word.

"yn?" daniela sighs. "yn! what are you doing?"

a few minutes later you walk back out with a bag in your hands, making daniela's eyes go wide.

"what're you doing?" she asks.

"i'm going to jungwon's for the night," you answer simply. "or, the rest of the night, i guess."

"what?" daniela looks at you confused. "why?"

you stare at her with a deadpan expression, waiting to see if she'll notice what she said. when she clearly doesn't, you shake your head again. "because he's a friend who won't fuck me while i'm still yours. those are your words," you tell her before starting to walk to the front door.

your words make daniela realize what she said, and she immediately starts following after you to the door. "yn? yn, baby, don't be like this! i didn't mean to bring her up!"

"but you did." you swiftly turn around, causing her to abruptly stop. "you did even though we talked about it and you knew how fucked up i felt afterwards. but if this is what comes out of your mouth when we argue, then i know you're still pissed about it. so, i'm leaving for the night, or maybe a few days, i don't know." you shrug. "i know i fucked up with what i did. i regret it. but you told me it was okay. when apparently it isn't if you're bringing it up. so while i'm gone, you think about what you want, daniela. because you are on thin ice, and it's cracking. so figure it the fuck out."

you leave the apartment before daniela can get a word out, the door slamming behind you echoing through the place. she stands there for a few minutes, waiting to hear you come back, but you never do.

"god damnit," she sighs, dragging her hands over her face.

the whole remainder of the night daniela kept texting you, telling you to come back, that she was sorry and didn't mean it. but, that's how she always was whenever you two fought. and you were tired of everything right now.

when you got to jungwon's, he was surprised to see you, but when you explained the situation he immediately brought you inside and talked with you about the whole thing. he was always good with comforting others and advice. plus, he could tell you were straining yourself recently.

while daniela sat inside the apartment, moping around waiting for you to come back, still texting you as the day passed and you didn't return or respond. she knew you were upset with what she said, that was obvious. and she couldn't lie and say that the event didn't gnaw at her every fiber since she found out, even if sophia got what she deserved in the end, because it did. she knew it shouldn't. that it was a moment of vulnerability for you, that you had no one else to go to. it all spirals back to her regretting what she did in the first place to start it all.

for the whole day daniela thought of what to do, how to fix this. she sat on the couch for hours thinking of what will make you not mad at her anymore. when she got an idea.

it was day three and you still weren't responding, so daniela took matters into her own hands and texting jungwon asking if you were there. he answered truthfully, saying that he wanted her to figure it out with you so he was trying to help the most he could. so she drove over to his place.

standing in front of the door, daniela shifts her weight from one foot to the other anxiously, biting her lip in hopes that this would work. the door opens and jungwon is revealed, who smiles at her.

"hey, dani," he says. "she's in the guest room."

"thanks," daniela replies, walking past him when he opens the door wider for her.

approaching the guest room, daniela knocks on the door a few times, hearing you hum on the other end. she slowly opens the door, making you turn and see it was her. your expression hardens, and dani notices, knowing she's still in deep shit.

"hey," she says awkwardly, pulling the flowers from behind her back. "i got you these." she holds them out, looking at the ground.

you can't help the way your eyes soften at the tone in her voice, quiet and hesitant compared to the confident loudness you were used to. she looks like a kicked puppy staring at the ground, and you let out a short sigh before getting off the bed, walking over to her and taking the bouquet from her.

"i'm sorry for what i said," daniela mumbles. "i didn't mean to say it i just...i still think about it sometimes and i don't know why. i know you didn't do it to hurt me on purpose but sometimes i...i worry that you're going to leave once you realize i'm not the best for you."

her words shock you as she still stares at the ground, finally speaking the thoughts that had been eating her up inside. "dani..."

"i-i know i'm not the best," she quickly adds. "i know you can find someone who will treat you better like it's nothing. but i don't– i can't lose you. i love you so much, so fucking much, and it scares me so much when we fight because i know every time it's another tick gone and that eventually you'll get tired of me and leave. i don't want you to leave. we fight, we have our ups and downs, but you always stay. you always stay and i know one day y-you won't." daniela's voice cracks at the end, tears filling her eyes the longer she talks. "i'm sorry." a few tears fall.

carefully setting the flowers on the bed, you take another step towards her and cup her face in your hands, making her look at you finally. "it's okay," you tell her softly. "you're right, i always stay. i always stay because i love you. i wouldn't if i didn't. dani, i don't think you know that you are the best relationship i've had. all of the other ones ended like shit. you prove to me time and time again that even if you fuck up, you own up to it and you don't run away. i won't ever get tired of you, i promise." you wipe away the tears falling from her eyes. "i love you, and i love the flowers. you always know what to get me."

"i try," daniela responds quietly, nodding slightly.

"i know." you nod. "and i love that about you." you lean in, pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

parting from the kiss, daniela's arms snake around your waist and pull you close to her as she puts her face in the crook of your neck. "i love you," she murmurs against your skin.

"i love you too," you reply, petting her head gently.

#katseye thoughts 💭#katseye x reader #katseye imagines #daniela avanzini thoughts 💭#daniela avanzini x reader #daniela imagine

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writingsfromhome · 2 days ago

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Unspoken Signals

A/N: reaaaallly tried to get this out for v-day. It’s been a while, I’m a bit rusty, but this is a quick fic w Harry and you as coworkers and a casual something else. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

—————————————————————-

“Well this is different,” I comment.

Before me sits a dozen children and they’re all very quiet. It’s music to my ears after the last hour.

“I didn’t know kids could even do yoga.”

“You didn’t know kids could stretch?” I raise a brow.

“The meditating part,” Harry clarifies. “I didn’t know they could quiet their minds and their demon mouths.”

I laugh softly and turn back to the kids. A couple are starting to get restless, peeking one eye open or scratching their noses—picking them more like. But it’s nice for the few minutes.

Both Harry and I worked at an art museum that had recently lost some of its funding and had decided to open up revenue streams by introducing “kids fun weekends”. So despite having zero training in early education, staff at the museum found ourselves having to look after children and host workshops from time to time.

So far we’d been volun-told to help with a crafts day, a movie night, wellness day, and an upcoming museum sleepover.

And I was so not being paid enough to deal with hyperactive children.

“Why do kids even need a wellness workshop?” Harry continues to whisper back to me. “They’ve got stressful jobs or something? Bloody put me on one and let me go home.”

“Anyone can experience stress Har,” I roll my eyes. Harry was one of those people who didn’t care about being politically correct when he spoke. Which led to a lot of bickering between us that most of our coworkers had gotten used to.

“The stress of any of these kids does not bloody compare to the stress of an adult.”

“Don’t be such an ageist,” I reply.

“Ageist? What the fuck,” he swears. “Do you just put a word in front of -ist and create a new prejudice?”

I gasp and hold his shoulder, “prejudice? Where did you learn such a large word?”

“Now you’re just being a word-ist,” Harry says smugly.

I snort despite myself, “And you’ve always been a prick.”

“Piss off,” Harry whispers. “This is unfair.”

We stand in silence, forced to do our job of keeping watch over the kids. But as they grow more agitated and so does Harry, I realize I really didn’t want to be here either.

“Well have you seen the new fake-Monet collection?” I ask.

It wasn’t actually fake-Monet. It was a local artist we were hosting in our community gallery that showcased…local artists. The first piece we ever saw hung up looked like a Monet so we took to calling him that.

“No. Not after that first forgery.”

“Wanna ditch this and check it out?”

“Fuck yes.” Harry’s eyes finally draw some life to them.

We leave our two other coworkers to deal with freshly-meditated children and sneak away.

The art museum wasn’t a large building; the ground floor was taken up by the open lobby, offices, the gift shop, and some of the more permanent exhibits. The second floor had revolving galleries and the community gallery sat on the third floor.

“D’you think anyone’s actually going to buy the guy’s fakes?” Harry asks.

“Probably,” I jam the button for the lift. “I saw a couple more pieces and they were beautiful.”

“You find any piece of art beautiful.”

“Well they are! It’s easy to find beauty in a lot of things if you’re not a prick.”

The lift arrives and the doors open; the reflection inside show a tall curly-haired annoyed bloke. Walking in with him is a shorter girl, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not a prick.” He looks down at me. “I just have standards.”

Suddenly in the enclosed space of the lift we’re gravitating towards each other like we tended to do. I smile up at him sweetly and he tsks and pushes me away by my chin; a conversation taking place with just our eyes.

The thing with Harry and me—because it was just a thing we didn’t label, was simple: we liked being around each other (despite being able to get on each other’s nerves).

We kinda just orbited each other and we were comfortable with it; some days he would follow me home and we’d hang out, get dinner, sleep together, and other nights I’d show up at his and we’d fold right into one another.

It was fun, and it felt cool not to label it. It felt very adult, like Harry and I were mature enough to appreciate the other in every aspect without being possessive enough to need to label it. Like somehow we were proving just how secure we were by doing it like this.

“You just like being judgemental,” I say and as the doors open onto the third floor I turn to walk out. “Because you’re an idiot.”

Outside stand at older couple who’ve definitely heard the last bit. I apologize and pray they don’t complain to anyone about the staff.

“Very unprofessional,” Harry goads as he laughs. “Do you harass all the elderly at the museum.”

“Shut up!” I shove him against the wall and he stumbles down.

“Oi!” He calls out as I walk away. “Oi! Help me up!”

“Help yourself!” I finally turn. He’s sprawled on the ground like this was his bedroom—because I’d seen the inside of his bedroom I would know. But he stays for so long I hurry back, not wanting anyone to walk past and get us in trouble for laying in the middle of the hall.

“I knew you’d come,” he smiles sweetly, his large hand in the air ready for me to grip.

“C’mon—“

I see it coming too late and he’s already trapped me in. He pulls me forward and I stumble into him, nearly catching myself on the wall. Nearly. I tumble into him instead.

“Grow up!” I scramble off of him as quick as I could. Because the one unspoken rule in this thing between us was staying nothing but platonic coworkers at work.

And that was the other thing about us—this unlabelled situation we were in. That as casual as we appeared there was a lot of orchestrating going on behind the scenes in order to be this nonchalant.

For example, only touching outside of work, not asking about dates the other went out on the weekend before, like saying you’re funny and where’ve you been when it’s been a while so as not to say I really like you and I want to be around you more and when you’re not around I miss you more than an unlabelled half should. Like getting drunk when I spot him at a club with another girl so I can continue to convince myself I really didn’t care all that much.

It was just Harry. At most we were just friends.

“This is me grown up,” Harry catches up to me. He can sense I’m annoyed and maybe he’s crossed a line so he lingers slightly behind.

I ignore him as I push the glass door into the gallery. This was one of my favourite spaces because of the large windows and views of the garden below planted by friends of the museum.

But mostly I loved it because it was a revolving door of local artists and it reminded me that everyone had a story to tell. And every story was beautiful.

“Don’t cry this time,” Harry whispers to me as he walks down the gallery to the far end.

“It was one time,” I mumble. That I actually cried. Usually I just teared up.

I couldn’t help it though, there was so much meaning and time put into these pieces. So much love and grief and every emotions on the spectrum. And I felt it all.

I decide I’d stop calling the artist fake-Monet because with a few more paintings I began to recognize his own signature style. He paints about personal community and finding it in public spaces—pockets around London.

“Hey look at this one,” Harry says when I’m a few pieces away. I walk over.

It’s unmistakably Hampstead Heath, the park a half hour walk from here and 15 from Harry’s place. It’s where we spent a lazy summer day a month or so ago. We were both free on the Saturday, our calendars opening up. I met Harry at his and we’d trekked through the hazy city to feel the cool breeze of the sturdy trees and the splash of the water. Despite the stickiness, we’d tucked into each other and pretended the shade was enough to keep us cool—enough to be so close. We read our book, took a summer nap, ate our picnic, and chatted about the rest of our lives. Passerbys would see two friends, or maybe two something-mores.

It’s only when the sun slinked down towards the horizon did we pack up. We walked back to his flat, took a shower together. We had dinner with his friends. It had been such a beautiful day I had ached with it because I knew how temporary it was.

But how perfect it had been. It had felt bigger than us.

Harry pointing it out toes that line again; he remembered it too, as something to reference. As something to compare to the beautiful richness of the tapestry before us—lavenders and lilacs, pinks and blues, sage, and dusty hues.

“Beautiful,” I murmur. We’re standing shoulder to shoulder now, I can’t tell who’s leaning on who.

“It…actually is.” Harry says in a hushed voice back. “I’m sorry fake-Monet that I doubted you.”

I look up at him in surprise, Harry rarely changed his mind. “Actually?”

“Yeah.” He looks down at me. “I think I get it.”

The expression in his eyes as he says this, as they fill with meaning, I have to look away. But the painting doesn’t help. It’s too full of my own meaning. Our meaning.

But there was no our.

“Wow.” I straighten up and move closer. “Look at that blending. And the details those are actually people.”

“They’ve all got their own shadow too.” Harry moves closer towards me again. He points it out.

“I’m gonna go look for shadows in the others.” I chirp just so I can get away. So I can keep denying.

A few hours later, the day is giving to nightfall. I badge out with Harry and we walk down the steps towards the iron gates.

“See you tomorrow?” I ask.

“I’m not in tomorrow.” He reminds me.

“Oh yeah your parents are in town?”

“Yep,” he fidgets with his phone and we stand in silence for a beat.

“Well I should-“ I say just as he asks, “Would you want to-“

We pause, awkward laugh. We were never awkward.

“You first,” I urge, wanting to know what he was going to ask.

“No it’s nothing. I should go. Got to clean my flat before my parents see how I live.”

“Don’t forget to hide the rolling papers from your bedside,” I tease. “And the magazines under the bed.”

“Oi I haven’t got magazines under the bed,” he smiles. His dimples make a handsome appearance. “They’re loud and proud on the coffee table now.”

“Except you haven’t got a coffee table.”

“If you know so much about my flat how about you come home with me and help me clean it? You can stay over.”

Come home with me. Casual, so casual.

But I know how calculated it had to be. I’d been there. Somehow I knew this is what he’d been trying to ask in the first place.

“What time are your parents getting in?” I ask.

“They’re early birds. Probably after 8.”

“8? Holy hell.” I swear.

“They want to do breakfast and then take me to visit my grandparents.”

“Right. Yeah well, imagine I’m still not out by the time they show up. That’d be so awkward. And there’s no way in hell I’m getting up before 8.”

His cheeks take on a slight blush. “They’ve…it wouldn’t be the first time they came over to a girl in my bed YN. I’m not 16.”

“I know. But…still awkward.”

“So?”

“I…don’t want them to get the wrong idea. We’ll see each other the day after. You’re working then right?”

My heart squeezes a bit at his crushed look before it’s swapped for happy, for easygoing. “Yep. Can’t get rid of me that quick.”

We part ways, I go mine with a heavy heart.

***

“So,” I check in with Harry at lunch the day he’s back. It had been a hectic day yesterday with a new group of kids and a new workshop to facilitate. Plus someone was quitting after being yelled at and Harry had missed it all so I wanted to update him. “How was your day off.”

“Shite,” he says. We walk a few streets over to a Pret. “Mum and dad wouldn’t stop whinging about my future and about settling down like I’m a fucking balding man in my 50s losing all prospects. I’m only 25!”

“Yeah total bummer having a day off for that,” I comment even though I have a hard time getting my next breath in. I can’t imagine my own parents caring that much about my life to spend a whole day with me talking about it. And what if I had stayed the night and accidentally bumped into them—would they have approved?

Should I even care?

“Then my nan basically told them to piss off but they started filling her head with it and then she’s asking me about any girls I’ve taken on dates lately. Started giving me relationship advice!”

“What was that?” I tease. “Take her on a walk and buy her some flowers? Go star gazing? Movie for 2 quid?”

Harry glances at me and his seriousness throws me off balance a little.

“What?”

He opens his mouth, then shrugs and closes it. “Nothing.”

“Sorry did I offend you?” I try to think of why he might be reacting this way.

“No, she actually did say some pretty old-fashioned shite. But I can take it from her. It’s my parents that drive me nuts.”

“Well I wish you were at work. Want to hear what happened?”

So I change the subject and we talk about what he missed. He’s more subdued today and I don’t read into it. He wasn’t mine to read into, I have to remind myself.

We talk about the gallery sleepover in two weeks, whether we were actually going to come in our PJs. When we get back to work we’re on different floors and I try not to miss him again.

***

“I actually brought mine—the appropriate pair.” My coworker jokes. We’re in the staff kitchen making an afternoon tea. Tonight was the gallery sleepover and I was not looking forward to it. But because I was working it I had the day off tomorrow and at least that was something to look forward to.

“I just brought a ratty tee. I don’t think I’m sleeping anyway.” I say.

“I hate that we got picked for this,” she continues. “I actually don’t even like kids. Why do you think I have none?”

“Well tonight will just be birth-control.”

“Trust me I don’t need it.” She cackles and walks away. My phone buzzes with a text.

Harry: Might be late tonight. cover for me if anyone asks?

Y: ur not even working the day how are u gonna be late?

Harry: got a thing. Just cover pls?

Y: obv

I wonder what was going on with him.

We hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to hang out the last week and work had been too busy to properly catch up. Plus our manager had been putting us on conflicting projects so I really had been missing Harry.

Even though Harry and I were friends there was something about distance and fondness that was proving true lately. And I hated it. So I’d gone on a string of dates this week. Hence my busyness.

I’d gone out on a date a week ago and even though I ended up going back to his place all I wanted to do was text Harry. Ask him if he was up, what he was doing. I’d forced myself to shut my phone so I wouldn’t be tempted.

After we close the doors to the public that evening we begin setting up for the kids’ sleepover. It’s so hectic nobody notices Harry’s late but he slides right in helping me string the lights in our biggest gallery. We work on the projectors next, I yap to him for 10 minutes straight and he barely replies. He’d been quiet since he got here.

And for the next few hours Harry and I entertain and help children have fun, we put on a fancy puppet show loosely based on famous artists—art projections included.

We sneak away to the kitchen after we take our bow for a tea break.

“Wouldn’t happen to have a flask on ya?” Harry sighs as he strains his tea bag.

“God I wish,” I stare into the dark abyss of my earl gray. That performance had really taken it out of me. “Who d’you think’s most likely to have something stashed away?”

“Well,” Harry yawns like he hadn’t slept all week and points to an upper cabinet. “Behind the cleaning stuff.”

“What?!” I gasp. “Seriously?”

“Well last time I saw it was last Christmas. Probably got some alcoholics here. I dunno if the stash is still there.”

“Well this is naughty,” I find a couple travel-sized liquor bottles like the kind you get on planes. I take one so that somebody else can have the delight of the other.

Harry sticks his mug out and I empty half the bottle, doing the same to mine.

“Make sure it’s covered,” he advises when I throw it in the bin. I shake it around until I can’t see it.

“Much better,” I cheers my mug to his. He catches my eye and it feels like we’re co-conspirators again. I pass a smile that’s only half-returned. “So what’s the deal with you?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t look up from his drink.

“I’ve barely seen you all week. And you’re late tonight. And you look haggard as hell.”

He shrugs, “I’ve been helping one of my mates out with moving out of his girlfriend’s. They broke up. He’s a mess so…”

“Oh.” I wasn’t expecting that. “That’s kind of you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Do I?” I widen my eyes.

“Piss off.”

He cracks with a smile—a full Harry smile and I feel my heart beaming just to soak it in.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” I ask tentatively. I knew he had the day off too.

“Uhm,” cagey Harry returns. “Maybe. I’m not too sure right now.”

“Ah okay.”

We sip in silence that threatens to smother us. I get up as quickly as I can without wasting my precious drink.

“I’m gonna head back out.”

“Alright.”

I head back to the star-lit room where sleeping bags are laid out like mismatched brick throughout the floor. Some kids are cozied within, others sit on top. They’re all engrossed in the “bedtime story” being told by a local author.

It’s sweet, I think. This would become a core memory for a lot of these kids, drinking in the whole night through all their senses. I wish I had more memories like this. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so fragile all the time.

Adults staying overnight got their own gallery blankets and I drag one over to the far end, enough for any kid who needed assistance could find me but far away that I could be on my phone and not distract them.

Some time later another body joins me with his own blanket.

“Sorry,” Harry says as he sits.

“For what?” I play pretend. Just like these kids were doing tonight. What could you possibly be saying sorry for? What could I possibly feel entitled to you for? We’re just friends.

“For being weird earlier. I…well I have to tell you something and I’m being weird instead.”

My heart begins to thump in my chest.

“Tell me what?”

“So I’ve um…I’ve got a-“ Harry clears his throat. I glance up at him and he’s looking out towards the ceiling. “I have a girlfriend. I know we…we’re not…”

“Jeez Har,” even though ever atom inside of me is keeling over with something I can’t exactly examine yet, I play the joker. The friend. “If this is you telling me you’re getting serious with someone that’s all you have to say.”

“Really?” He turns to me and on the shiny hardwood floor so does half his body. I ignore how his knees feel pressing into mine. “You’re…okay?”

His voice is anything but casual.

“Yeah! It’s not like we’re a thing.”

Even still, I can’t say it. I die a little more.

“Yeah well I wasn’t expecting it. She’s the daughter of someone my dad knows? Pretty sure they orchestrated it but we went on a couple dates and then she asked…well she wanted to be exclusive I…”

“Well that’s good. For you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“Thank god,” the air whooshes out of his lungs.

“I feel like I should be offended. You thought I was going to be mad or something?”

“No not mad…” he trails off. I look at his reaction and find him looking at me already. Even though it’s dark I can still see his eyes and they feel like they’re reading everything on my face. In a hushed tone he repeats himself, “not mad.”

I shrug, biting my lip hard to feel something other than the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Emotions I never thought would surface this strongly.

“I’m good. Actually I’m not good. I think that bottle we found was rubbish I’ve got to go toilet—“ I use his knee to pull myself up. “Save my spot.”

I walk away without sparing a glance back because my act is crumbling. I’m crumbling. And I don’t understand it.

If you asked me two weeks ago I would have gone on how fun it was to be with Harry but how the idea of being with him seriously would be weird. Would throw off our balance. But now I want to puke my guts in the toilet at the idea of having to let him go. Because he’s the one who moved on.

And as hard as I try tears still escape my lashline and make trails down my cheeks as I study myself in the brightly lit mirror. How could I be mad when we were just casual? How could I hate him if all he did was look for something serious. Someone serious.

Suddenly what had felt fun and mature feels childish and disposable.

I was disposable fun.

“Get it the fuck together,” I tell myself. “You’ve got nothing to cry over. You could get yourself a boyfriend too. He’s not your soulmate or something jeez.”

I blow my nose and give myself another pep talk before exiting the toilets back to where Harry waits for me.

“You alright?” He asks. A loaded question.

“Yeah. Regret doing this for the whole night though.”

“You could sleep. I’ll take first shift.”

“I’ll get in trouble.”

“Who gives a shit,” Harry tugs me so that I fall against his shoulder and it’s the worst thing in the world.

I don’t curl my arm through his like I might’ve before. Or cozy into his chest. I stay there like a stiff robot until sleep takes me. Even then it’s not long enough.

—1 month later—

I’m heading home after an uneventful day, ready to sink into bed and turn my brain off. These days my brain talked too much and I really wish there was an on/off switch for it.

“Um hiya?” A soft voice says as I exit the turnstile in the lobby. I turn towards the voice and it belongs to a sweet looking girl about my age with harsh features softened by a layered bob. On me it would look ridiculous but she looks like she was born to rock the style she was in.

“Hi,” the rule of thumb was even though you were clocked out if you exited from the lobby in work clothes and somebody stopped you, you had to help them. I’d forgotten to tuck my badge away today damnit.

“I’m waiting for someone? He hasn’t been answering his texts I was just wondering if-“

“You could ask reception?” I point to the desk behind her. “They can page who you need.”

“They weren’t really helpful,” she shrugs. “I’m assuming you work with him? Harry?”

It’s the last name I’m expecting from her lips. I nearly stumble back trying to take her in again with the new knowledge of who she might be.

“H-Harry?”

I’d heard her the first time. I’m just trying to grasp at a second to collect myself.

This must be his girlfriend. The one who wanted to be exclusive. And I hated that I’d liked her in our two minute interaction.

He hadn’t spoken much about her since he told me a month ago but since half of our relationship before her was being intimate, we barely talked and when we did it was mostly just work and the relationship felt really fragile and rough.

I could see what Harry saw in her—she was attractive. And not pushy; she let Joey at reception push her around which was hard to do. And she was meeting Harry here, at work. It must be getting serious.

All these thoughts race through my mind in a millisecond.

“Oh! Harry yeah,” I nod when she confirms. “Of course I know him. I think he was in a meeting might be why…I can go back in and check if you-“

“Oh no! Sorry I’m not trying to be a bother. You’re probably going home I just wanted to make sure he was still in?”

“Yeah! Yeah he’s in. I’ll tell Joey—reception, to page him if he’s out. He’s nicer than he seems.”

“That’d be perf,” she beams. I die a little more, unsure why I was helping her this much. Unsure why it bothered me this much.

Ever since Harry had ended the thing we didn’t have, my life had felt haunted. The ghosts of every emotion I killed in the moments we’d been together began to surface and they were torture. Biggest of all was regret and shame. Regret over what could have been if I’d just admitted how deeply I felt months ago. Shame because I wasn’t supposed to feel this way for Harry. Because he obviously didn’t feel the same way, he never would, and it would be embarrassing to ever admit it.

Our actual relationship had gone like this after that night—avoidance -> awkward small talk -> light bantering -> finally, being able to talk semi-normally again.

We stopped hanging out outside of work however, so every day I got to see him was a day I was excited to go into work. My friends told me I had to do something about it—confess and see what he says, or move on.

And I’d tried to move on. But every guy I tried to date didn’t hold a candle to the flame that warmed my heart; to the idiot I had the misfortune of falling for after we ended things.

Or maybe I was just the idiot.

And here I was self-sabotaging by helping his girlfriend. There was definitely something wrong with me.

“Elsie!”

Both our heads turn to the voice.

“There he is,” I say but she’s already squeezing my arm and walking towards him. Harry doesn’t realize I’m standing there and I watch him smile at her in a way that sends a spike to my heart. Then he notices me.

“Oh YN,” his eyelids flutter a few times too many. “Uh-“

“YN god sorry I didn’t even get your name,” Elsie turns back to me. “YN was helping me.”

“Yeah? Thanks,” Harry looks visibly relieved and flashes me a grin. I raise my brows and smile back.

Home. I had to get home.

“Well I figured Har already had a hard time finding a girlfriend, I didn’t want him to lose her so quickly. This isn’t even a very big place.”

Harry’s expression is unreadable but Elsie laughs.

“Very funny,” Harry responds.

“I know.” I gear myself up to say bye. “Well I’ll see you tomorrow, let you get to wherever you’re going. It was nice-“

“Well we’re just hanging out with some friends,” Elsie says.

“YN knows a few of them,” Harry says. I watch his eyes bug a little as he realizes he’s stepped onto a minefield and watch him back away smoothly. “Some of the younger crew go out for drinks sometimes.”

“Ah,” Elsie says as Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder from behind. He was laying it on thick but I don’t think Elsie noticed his hiccup. “Well why doesn’t she come!? YN you should join us! One more friend!”

“Oh I don’t think she wants to-“

“I was honestly just gonna go ho-“

I stop talking the same time Harry does.

“No you should!” Elsie says. “Don’t listen to Harry.”

I catch his eye and they’re saying please don’t.

Don’t tell me what to do, mine say.

Don’t be stubborn.

Challenge accepted.

“Ok! Maybe one drink.” I say as Harry huffs. It felt dangerous, having a non-verbal conversation in front of his girlfriend.

I was an idiot, I confirm. An idiot making bad decisions.

“Yay! Let’s go.” Elsie takes Harry’s hand and drags him to the front door. I nearly laugh at his face as he’s dragged past me—he was mad.

And it comes out a couple hours later. By then I’d had more than a single drink, have befriended most of the people I don’t know at the table and have caught up with those I do know. Harry had been mostly attached by the hip to Elsie and I tried not to stare daggers at it.

They’re an interesting couple, you can tell Harry is distracted most of the night and she tries to accommodate by being around and talking to him. He leaves a hand on her at all times but she doesn’t wrap herself around him the way I used to. Maybe she wasn’t touchy.

Maybe I was being obsessive.

So I distract myself with everyone, with drink, with a particularly cute boy who introduced himself as Elsie’s uni friend. Who happened to be brother’s with Harry’s old flatmate. Small worlds.

“YN,” Harry tugs my sleeve as Grant and I talk—if you can call heavy flirting just talking.

“What?!” I snap after the tugging gets aggressive.

“I need to talk,” He points to himself and then me, “to you.”

I could see he was well past tipsy. It wasn’t often Harry drank to this point so I follow him to find out what was going on.

I follow him to a patio table that had just been vacated, empty glasses littering the surface. An untouched shot sits in the middle. The tableau tells a story—art was everywhere.

“What?” I ask.

“What’re you doing?”

“What am I?” I laugh. “What are you doing? I think you’ve had a few drinks too many mate.”

“You’ve got drinks,” he replies.

“Yeah…” I look back at the half finished drink I left at the bar. “I did have more than I thought. I feel like I drink a lot more when there’s a lot of people around? Otherwise I’m just nursing my drink-“

“Why did you decide to come out tonight? When you’ve met my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

“When I’ve…what?! Your girlfriend invited me no thanks to you.”

“Yeah but you never come out anymore. And suddenly you want to come out when Elsie asks?”

“What d’you mean I never come out anymore?”

Harry sighs. “You stopped hanging out.”

“Yeah because you got a girlfriend? You stopped inviting me out!”

“No what? No! You’re always…it’s an open invitation I don’t need to specifically invite you out I-“

“So why did you invite me specifically before?” I call him out, feeling more sober than I was a few minutes ago. “You stopped inviting me. We stopped hanging out. And so I stopped inviting you when I went out cuz I thought you had a girl and I didn’t want to make it complicated I-“

My voice catches on an unfiltered emotion and I want to die. I feel heat creep up my cheeks as I try to swallow it down and hope Harry doesn’t notice. Fuck!

“Anyway your girlfriend invited me so I came! It’s not a big deal.”

“I didn’t…” Harry scratches his nose and looks uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to stop. I…it was complicated and I-“

“It’s fine. Whatever Har.”

“It’s not,” his brows come together. “Obviously s’not. I’m sorry? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel…”

I almost laugh at what he’s said and how it sounds: I didn’t mean to make you feel. Well, neither did I.

“Yeah whatever. I’m not mad about it.”

“Sorry.” He says instead.

“Thanks,” I clear my throat for good measure, not wanting to be too emotional. I want to tell him I missed him but I don’t think it would be appropriate.

“I thought-“ he breaks off with a laugh. “Nevermind.”

“What?” I push him lightly. “You know I hate when people don’t finish their thought. It’s going to drive me crazy—what?”

“No this one you won’t like. Nevermind.”

“Tell meee,” I poke his shoulder until he slaps my hand away.

“Stop that! I hate when you do that!”

“I know.” I say smugly. “So?”

“It’s stupid. I thought you came here to annoy me or something. And then you’re practically sitting in Grant’s lap…”

He’s right. I wouldn’t like it.

“Hold on,” I bring my hand down on the table. “You thought I was flirting with Grant to annoy you? Why would I-what!?”

“Like I said,” he doesn’t make eye contact. “It was stupid. Nevermind!”

“No it’s not nevermind. You don’t drive what decisions I make in my love life.” Lie. “Got that?”

“Jeez you can’t get angry after forcing me to say!”

“I can!”

“Can you quit bitching I don’t have time for this.”

“I’ll be as big of a bitch as I want to be.” I cross my arms.

“Unfortunately, I know.”

“That’s a completely stupid thought to have-“

“Surely not all your thoughts are winners. That’s why you don’t say all of them.” Harry says, then laughs. “Actually you do. And I always have the displeasure of hearing all of them.”

My jaw drops. “It’s like you’re purposely saying the stupidest shit right now. Like you want to be a prick.”

“C’mon you little shite,” Harry tugs my arm until they uncross. “I’m joking, remember jokes?”

I want to say something snippy, tell him off, but as my arms fall away his hand slides down until the tips of our fingers brush. It makes me feel touch-starved, like I’d been isolated in the woods for the last two months growing crazy for human touch.

Harry senses the shift and his smile dies down, his throat bobbing up and down.

How was it that Harry, out of every man I’ve ever met and continue to meet, has this effect on me? How can one touch quiet my mind so completely while pushing my heart into overdrive.

Why, I want to ask the universe. Why was it this man in front of me that made me feel so intensely?

“YN,” he says.

I should pull away. I should because his fingers creep further now pressing into my palm. I want them to slide higher until they’re tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. I wanted him closer.

“I missed you,” it comes stumbling out. And the shock of it pulls me out of whatever trance I just found myself in.

I pull my hand away and Harry straightens up, his gaze clearing too.

“Sorry.” My heart is in my throat now. “Sorry. I didn’t—that was inappropriate. I’m gonna go back now…”

“Wait,” he calls out as I head back to Grant knowing my heart wasn’t in it anymore. That I was going home.

“Hm?” I try to blink away the shame as I turn back towards him.

“D-do you…regret anything?”

I raise a brow and he flushes. I was making this torture for both of us but I wanted him to ask.

Stupidly, I wanted him to know.

“Between us. I know we never…we’re just friends. But did you ever regret…us?”

I shake my head. “No. No. Never. It was some of the best times.”

It’s like I’ve said the wrong thing. His face falls and I decide I had to go. Had to. I was afraid what else might be spilled out between us.

I don’t even remember what I tell Grant, just that I grab any of my belongings that I can spot, ask him to throw his number into my phone, and hightail it out. And I nearly make it to the tube when a warm hand grips my arm.

“Get off—oh!” I nearly whack Harry with my purse but he ducks anyway. “What the fuck Har!?”

“Sorry. Sorry sorry!” He lets me go and I miss his warmth. “I didn’t realize!”

“Yeah! You can’t just grab a woman at night like that!”

“Obviously! I wasn’t thinking! I was just trying to get to you-“

“Why?”

“Bloody hell you know why YN!”

I stare at him. His face doesn’t hide a single thought, a single emotion. It’s vulnerable, and terrifying.

“Don’t take the piss.” He grabs my arms and gives me a shake. “You know. You know.”

“I-don’t do this. Har, you have a girlfriend. I don’t want to be that girl ok?”

“Why?”

“Why? Because that’s awful and-“

“No! Why didn’t you say anything when we were together? Any time we were together? When I told you I had a girlfriend? Why were you always so…cool?”

“Me? Cool?” I laugh. “There’s nothing cool about me Har.”

“Well you’re hard to fucking read then! I dunno! I was always leaving hints and signals that I actually liked you. And you always ignored them!”

“Hints? Signals?” I gape. “When the—what the hell do you call hints?!”

“I…I wanted you to meet my fucking parents for god’s sake. Did you really never-“

“If I’m hard to read so are you mate,” I lean against the closest thing—a mailbox. My legs are jelly. “Was that when you vaguely suggested I wake up in your bed while your parents were down?!”

“Fine well I bought you chocolates that one time, I’ve even got some of your tees in my room! I-I tried to plan romantic dates for us—Hampstead! I tried to tell you-“

“What?” I’m not asking him anything. I’m just questioning everything; everything I avoided and played off had meaning. Of course it did. Everything had meaning, but I’d just thrown our dictionary out the window so it would mean nothing. Because I was afraid.

“Really?!” Harry sighs. He crouches down and runs his hands through his hair. “Am I that bad? I thought I was making it so clear but you always brushed it off. I felt like an idiot for falling for you when it was just s’pose to be casual. I thought I was being a bloody simp.”

I inch down to where he crouches.

“You fell for me?” I whisper.

When he looks at me it’s with eyes that look like broken seaglass. With a mouth curved down so low that I want to kiss into a smile. Into a laugh.

He cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. I give in to the sigh and his lips lift ever so slightly.

“How could I not?”

“I thought I drove you crazy?” I grasp his hand. “I thought I was just a fun distraction I-“

“I never said the second part.” He interrupts.

“You sure?”

“You were reading the wrong hints.”

I laugh and so does he. It almost turns into tears.

He stands and extends a hand that I take, his warm palm covering mine.

“Now’s when you return the confession,” he says without letting go. “So?”

“What? I’m not hiding any confessions!”

“Liar,” he tugs me close. “Your heart’s racing.”

“That’s from getting up so quickly.”

“You’re full of shite.”

We’re smiling so hard I’m sure we look like crazy people on the street.

But he had a girlfriend. Oh god. A sweet girl I’d just met today.

His expression grows confused as mine must turn to worry. I untangle myself.

“Harry…”

“I know.” He finally clues in.

“We can’t-“

“I know.”

We stare at each other for a heartbeat.

“I’m gonna go. Or else…”

“Just like that?” He asks.

“How else is it supposed to be?” I demand. “We can’t do this Har. And please…if you like her…respect her at all—don’t break up with her just to be with me. I wouldn’t be able to stomach it.”

“Then I’m just lying to her.”

“I…” I shrug. “I dunno. I just don’t want to be the reason for her heartbreak okay?”

“You’re being a sensitive snowflake. Breaking up with her is the right thi-“

“You can’t call people snowflakes-

“I can if that’s what they’re being-“

“I’m going home.” I tell him. It’s the last thing I want to do.

He opens his mouth with whatever quick retort he always had. But he must think twice about it. His face draws into a frown.

“Sort yourself out.” I instruct him. “Just sort it out. And then one day soon we can see…y’know.”

I half turn away, but can’t bear to leave without touching him one last time. Who knows when the next time will be. I flit to him so I can press my lips against the warmth of his cheek, so intoxicating. Like an addict only sniffing the alcohol in their cup. And when I feel his body loosening, about to hold my own, I flit away and rush into the tube without a glance back.

I don’t register anything on the ride home. I’m too shocked to even cry about it.

I wash the day away, the scent of him and the look on his face when he realizes we each had been trying to hold out own glaring neon signs to each other.

It’s late when there’s a knock on my door. I figure it’s my roommate forgetting her keys, and since I’d been laying on my bed in my towel after my shower too numb to sort myself out I end up opening the door basically naked.

It’s Harry.

His eyes roam over my terryclothed figure with a smile.

“What—what are you doing here!?” I grab the edge of my towel to keep it in place.

“Were you expecting someone else?” He asks.

“No-stop!” I push my hand into his chest as he crosses through the doorway. “Why are you here?”

His eyebrows draw together, hurt. “I…I didn’t think I was that drunk—we did just admit our feelings to each other a few hours ago right?”

“Yes but!” I put my hand down because his heart is beating fast under my hand and I don’t want to feel it a second longer. “You were also supposed to sort yourself out and-“

“Can you just let me in?”

I stare at him.

He stares back.

“Fine!” I give up and move aside. He closes the door behind him. That’s when I notice his hands. “What’s that?”

“For you.” He holds a bouquet up. “I know they’re shitty. I couldn’t find much at this time of night-“

“No hold on, I don’t understand.”

“We’ve wasted enough time throwing out shitty hints that apparently neither of us could read. We should never be detectives.”

I stay still, waiting for an explanation. Any bloody explanation as to why he’s here and not with his girlfriend!

“I went back to Elise. She knew something was wrong right away. I tried to deny it. She asked if something was going on between us-“

“God seriously Har! I said not to-“

“Did you want me to go back and pretend to be in love with her when I just had a fucking bomb go off in my life!? I know you don’t want to be that girl YN but I don’t want to be that shitty guy who stays with someone because he feels bad! What does that make me?”

I can picture Elise’s face in my mind. Oh god.

“She wasn’t mad-“

“You wish.” I snort.

“No she wasn’t. Well she was at first because she thought I was with you and her at the same time. I explained. I apologized. She got it. She…turns out she was still hung up over her ex. That she really liked me but she was mostly doing it to get her parents off her back. Because they never like who she dates. Which wasn’t a great thing to hear but…I’m pretty sure I saw her catching a cab as I was leaving. Maybe she went back to her ex.”

I’m dumbfounded with his retelling of what happened after I’d left.

“She’s okay. Are we?” He asks when I don’t reply.

The bouquet looks rough, like it was maybe clutched too hard and the flowers are nearing the end of their life. I imagine Harry rifling through a flower stand to find something for me. Coming here because he couldn’t wait.

I was kidding myself. I couldn’t wait either.

“Okay.”

“Okay??” He asks but he’s closing the distance because he’s reading me. He already knows me.

“Fine.” I say as he loops his arms around my waist. I stretch my arms up around his shoulders, clasping them at his neck. Something throbs deep in my chest. I missed him.

“I missed you,” he says. Always reading my mind.

“I didn’t know I could.” I say to him. His eyes are filled with a raw emotion that mirrors whatever’s aching in my chest.

“You’re like something from the gallery,” he cups my face. “Beautiful and original, breathtaking and you pass by it every opportunity you get just to get another glimpse. It makes you realize what you’ve been missing your whole life.”

“Aw Har,” my voice wobbles. If this was Harry when he was direct and not giving shitty hints I don’t know how I was going to survive us.

“What?” He whispers.

“You’ve got a soft side. You’re not actually a prick.”

His dimples make an appearance as he smiles. “I told you. I’ve just got standards don’t I.”

I wanted all of him—god how did I fool myself this whole time. I wanted all of him. He was just so lovely. “I think you’re going to ruin me,” I whisper back. His grin disappears and he tugs me ever closer.

“You’ve already ruined me.” He says. “I can’t look at any piece of art without thinking of you. I can’t go a day without wondering about you.”

“Is that healthy?” I murmur. My heart drums.

“Who the fuck cares about healthy?” He laughs.

We gaze at each other, the blood rushes through my body at high speeds.

“Mutual ruin?” I ask.

He responds with a kiss so passionate that I forget how to breath. I’m sure my towel was being held up by our bodies at this point.

“Mutual ruin. Or you can just ruin me.” His lips brush against my ear, feather down my neck. “I’m madly in love with you YN. There’s nobody but you.”

I don’t know whether to laugh from giddiness or cry from how my heart overflows.

“Har, I think I get the hint.” I say instead. He laughs.

“Fucking finally.”

💟💟💟💟

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #writingsfromhome #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #fic #harry styles one shot

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munsonsmixtapes · 1 day ago

Text

Breathe Your Air

Eddie Munson x Gareth Emerson x fem!reader

What's supposed to be a smoke session with Gareth quickly turns into something very different and dirty with him and his best friend, Eddie

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) oral (m receiving) masturbation, drug use

special thanks to @the-witty-pen-name who I couldn't have done this without!

The garage closes as Jeff and Grant leave in Jeff’s car, leaving Gareth and Eddie alone. You’re supposed to show up any minute to smoke with Gareth and he’s scrambling, trying to make the place look clean while Eddie sips on one of his dad’s beers.

He doesn’t even know why Gareth is going to such lengths to impress you. You’re just a girl and he doesn’t care how hot his friend says you are, he’ll be the judge of that. Maybe he’s just reluctant because all of the pretty girls think he’s a freak so he’s just trying to protect himself. But if you’re hanging out with Gareth then you must be cool.

He follows Gareth into the house, grabbing a bag of chips from the kitchen on the way to the living room where he makes himself comfortable while Gareth is hurrying to straighten up the place.

Eddie collapses onto the couch as Gareth pulls down the screen over the garage door before heading over to set up the movie as there’s a knock at the door.

Gareth is quick to pull Eddie up from the couch, trying to get him to leave, but Eddie hurries to stand behind Gareth as he opens the door and stops in his tracks when his eyes lock on you. Gareth didn’t tell him that you were so fucking hot. He swears he’s never seen anyone prettier and he’s trying to see what he can do to stay even though he'll definitely be third wheeling your date.

“Hi,” you beam as you enter the house before closing the door behind you and it's only then that Eddie notices that you’re carrying a plate wrapped in plastic wrap. “Sorry I’m late but I brought cookies,” you hold up the plate with a smile and Eddie thinks you’re adorable.

You pull Gareth into a hug and he can’t stop thinking about how good you smell, something sweet but woodsy and he wants to bathe in it. You’re squeezing him tightly and he can’t believe that you’re actually hugging him. No other woman ever hugs him except his mother.

“Oh,” Gareth lets out a laugh. “It’s no problem.” You could be as late as you wanted and Gareth wouldn’t bat an eye. He’s honestly surprised that you’re even there. You’re one of the most popular girls in Hawkins so he’s still wondering why you’d want to spend a Saturday night with him of all people.

“And you must be Eddie,” you smile again, taking in metalhead that’s taken a step back to give you and Gareth some space. “It’s so nice to meet you.” You pull him in for a hug as well and now he understands why you’re so popular. You’re nothing but a sweetheart and he’s decided that he wants to stay in your arms forever with your chin resting on his shoulder, giving him a tight squeeze as if the two of you have hugged many times before.

But here you are in your pretty dress looking like something that’s just walked out of his dreams, being so sweet with your cookies, greeting him and Eddie like you’re all old friends. You’re actually the one who suggested this get together and Gareth still doesn’t know why. He just got talking to you at the record store where you work and didn’t think you actually meant it until you gave him your phone number before he left.

And now you’re here, in his house and he’s just waiting for Eddie to leave so the two of you can smoke up. But Eddie’s still standing in front of the couch, so close to drooling that it’s embarrassing. You’re taking in the living room so Gareth takes the opportunity to turn to Eddie to tell him to get lost because he’s tired of him ruining the mood.

“Why are you still here?” He ask in a whisper as you’re looking at the books on his mom’s bookshelf.

“C’mon, man, you can’t kick me out now. She hugged me.” He’s saying it like it’s supposed to mean something, but it does mean something to Eddie. Girls hug him sometimes, but never like that, never like he’s meant something to them.

“She was just trying to be nice. Besides, don’t you have that thing you need to pick up for Wayne?” Eddie does need to do that, but no way is passing up the opportunity to smoke with you.

“I can get on my way home. There’s no way I’m missing this.” He doesn’t actually think anything’s going to happen but he just wants to spend some time with the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

“You’re just going to be a third wheel.” Eddie knows that’s true and supposes that he really does have a lot of things he should probably be doing than this.

“Alright, I’m going,” Eddie grumbles as he turns towards the door. He’s about to open it, but you stop him, resting your hand on his shoulder and he turns to see the most pathetic look on your face.

“You’re leaving?” You ask, looking really disappointed, even going as far as putting on a pout.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Gotta get back to my uncle.”

“You can’t stay for a little longer?” You’re stepping closer to him, reaching up and messing with his hair. He doesn’t usually let people touch it, but you’re the exception, especially when you’re looking at him with those eyes like you want to swallow him whole.

“Well, maybe just a few minutes,” he shrugs as he closes the door, pulling you over to the couch. “Gareth, you’ve got the stuff, right?” He asks as you make yourselves comfortable and Gareth is sure that this is going to be the worst high of his life.

He can’t fucking believe that Eddie ruining what’s supposed to be the best night of his life. He thought that maybe he actually get a chance to kiss you like he’s been wanting to for months, and maybe a little more. But now he doesn’t think he’ll ever get the chance.

Once he comes back with the joint and his lighter, he sees that you’ve distanced yourself from Eddie, plenty of space between your bodies for Gareth to sit, but he decides to sit on the other side of you.

“Ladies first,” he says as he hands the joint to you and you put it between your lips, turning towards him and he lights it up for you, watching you intently as you breathe in the smoke before turning to Eddie, motioning for him to move closer.

He opens his mouth and you blow the smoke into it as Gareth watches, wondering why he feels so turned on by watching his crush and best friend shotgun. There’s something so hot, so sexual about it and it’s making his pants feel tight.

Once you pull away, Eddie looks dizzy and you smile, turning to Gareth who’s holding his hands over his crotch and if you notice, you don’t say anything. You just motion for him to lean in.

“Want some?” You ask and he nods furiously.

“Please,” he demands but it comes out so pathetic like a whimper.

“Alright, come here, pretty boy,” you grab hold of his chin and your hand feels so hot on his skin, almost like fire. He opens his mouth and as soon as you press your lips to his, he’s sure that he’s died and gone to heaven. He already feels high but he’s pretty sure that’s just you and your effect on him.

He inhales and you pull away far too soon, moving back to Eddie to give him some more smoke and he doesn’t something he probably shouldn’t. After he inhales, he grabs hold of your face, slotting his lips between yours. You’re shocked at first, but you respond pretty quickly, kissing him back as you try your best to hold the joint away from him so as to not catch him on fire.

Gareth doesn’t even care that he’s not being kissed because for some reason, just watching is doing it for him. He’s leaning over, trying to see exactly what’s happening between the two of you and seeing your hands slide into Eddie’s hair is making him hard beyond belief.

Your tongue is sliding into Eddie's mouth and as Eddie lets out a moan, Gareth lets out a whimper at the noise, but neither of you seem to be paying him any attention. He’s scooting closer to get a better look and swears watching the two of you make out is making him feel like he’s never felt before.

Eddie is sure that this is the best make out session he’s ever had-not that he’s had much to compare it to-it just seems like you really know what you’re doing. And when your fingers wound into his hair, fuck, he just needs more of you.

Eddie’s hand touches Gareth’s thigh as you pull away and Gareth’s brain short circuits, feeling the bi panic set it as you lean back against the couch, putting the joint between Eddie’s lips. He takes a drag and motions for Gareth to lean forward. Their lips touch as Eddie pushes the smoke into Gareth’s mouth and both of them are unsure why they like it so much.

It’s so foreign but it feels so right, both of them staying like that until Gareth inhales the smoke. And once they’re done, you decide that Eddie’s friend needs to have a little fun too. You push him back against the couch then straddle his waist, tilting his head back as your lips find his.

“Your turn, pretty boy.”

“O-okay,” he stutters and you think it’s adorable that you make him so nervous. “Already hard for me, hm?”

He’s not sure what he’s doing like Eddie was, but he’s trying, following along as his hands rest gently on your waist. He has only kissed one other person, a boy in seventh grade during spin the bottle. This, though, this is a real kiss, filled with so much passion and now he understands why Eddie was unable to stop. You lips are just so soft and he’s addicted to the feeling of your weight on top of him.

You’re grinding on him now and he’s having a hard time now coming right then and there. You’re making a mess of him and he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do now. He lets his hands experimentally slide up your dress, resting on your thighs as you kiss your way down his neck.

Eddie doesn’t know why, but he suddenly feels the urge to mimic you so he gets closer, taking another drag of the joint and blowing it out before bringing his mouth to the other side of Gareth’s neck, giving it a hard suck that causes Gareth’s breath to hitch. This is officially the best night of Gareth’s life and he’s not sure that anything is ever going to top it.

“Fuck,” he sighs, his head spinning because of the attention he’s getting and when you get off of him, he lets out a whine but he’s instantly shushed when you bring your lips back to his neck, sucking on it like your life depends on it as Eddie palms his crotch through his jeans.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” You ask, bringing your lips right by his ear and he feels his brain short circuit as it processes your question.

“Please,” he whines and full on moans as you bite down on his earlobe.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, sitting back on your knees, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth.

“No,” he shakes his head and just as he’s thinking that nothing is actually going to happen, Eddie pulls a condom from his pocket and holds it out as he gives Gareth’s neck a hard bite before pulling away.

As you get undressed, Eddie takes the chance and places his lips on Gareth’s. He’s always wondering what they’ve felt like and now he finally has an excuse to see. Gareth is quick to respond, kissing Eddie back hungrily, the whole thing being mostly tongue as theirs tangle, fingers tugging on hair, hands sliding up shirts.

Everything pauses when both of them pull away to see that you’re now just in your bra and panties, looking at you with open mouths and wide eyes as they’ve never seen a half naked woman in person before-well Gareth hasn’t-both of them almost drooling at the sight of you.

You can see that Eddie is hard now too, but you feel like Gareth needs it more, groaning because of how desperate he is. And Eddie seems to be okay with that as you unbutton Gareth’s pants and pull them down and as you’re pulling down his underwear, his eyes widen as you spread his legs then get down on the floor in between them, patting the spot next to you and Eddie’s quick to join you.

He takes another drag of the joint before putting it between your lips, letting you finish it off. Once it’s done, you put it out on the coffee table behind you before spitting into your hand, Gareth’s rock hard cock in it and giving it a few slow pumps to start him off then they get progressively quicker and Gareth is losing his shit, grabbing onto the couch cushion underneath him as if his life depends on it.

Once you feel like he’s ready, you wrap your hand around the base and bring the tip into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it, teasing the slit. Eddie is watching over your shoulder, wishing he could take your place, but he’s perfectly content watching. He could get off just from this and he’s not sure what that says about him, not that he cares.

“Oh my god,” Gareth whines. He’s never experienced anything like this, but now he’s starting to get the hype of all of it, why the men around him are obsessed with being sucked off.

You pull away all too soon and can hear him whine as he no longer feels your lips wrapped around him. You turn to Eddie and gesture at Gareth’s cock, wanting to let him in on the action.

“Is that okay?” Eddie looks up at his best friend and Gareth nods enthusiastically. He really doesn’t care who’s sucking him off as long he gets the relief he needs. And besides, they’ve already kissed so what’s a blowjob?

You move out of the way, wiping the spit from your mouth as Eddie takes your spot. He’s only sucked one other cock before so he at least kind of knows what he’s doing.

You’re quick to hold his hair back for him as he grabs hold of Gareth and takes him into his mouth as if he’s done this exact thing a million times. He’s mimicking what he just saw you do and you look up to see Gareth grabbing onto the couch cushion again, his eyes shutting tight as Eddie starts to suck, taking more of him little by little, his tongue teasing the slit as he does so.

You tie off Eddie’s hair with the hair tie on your wrist then move to sit on the couch next to Gareth, feeling like he needs some support.

“That’s it, baby. Look at you, doing so well,” you encourage him, running your hand through his hair gently. His head is leaning against the back of the couch as he lets out a loud moan in response to Eddie’s work. As if you weren’t wet already, hearing the noise makes you even more so and you reach into your underwear to take care of yourself, your fingers moving rapidly as you’re still trying your best to encourage Gareth.

“Holy shit,” he moans again and god, what you’d do to hear him moan your name.

Eddie’s got all of Gareth in his mouth, his nose pushed into his bush as he’s fully deepthroating it. He’s gagging, but he’s still going, desperately trying to get Gareth and just by the way he’s behaving, you can tell he’s close. But you’re the one who comes first, moaning Gareth’s name so loud that Gareth’s eyes widen as he turns to you.

Eddie’s still working, his eyes shifting to you and he’s rock hard now as he sees your hand in your panties. Gareth comes not long after you do, screaming loudly as his knuckles are a bright white as he’s holding onto the cushion.

Eddie’s quick to swallow before pulling Gareth’s cock out of his mouth with a loud pop, watching him with a smug smirk on his face as he sits there, breathing heavily, sweat dripping from his forehead.

You push Gareth’s hair back as you pull your hand from your panties, dangling your slick soaked fingers over his mouth. A small amount drops onto his lips and he makes eye contact as he licks his lips slowly in a seductive manner before taking your hand and putting your fingers into his mouth, licking and sucking on them until they’re clean.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” You whisper and he wants to, god does he want to, but he’s scared. He’s never actually done it before and he’s afraid that he’s going to do it wrong. But you look so hot and hearing you climax really makes him want to be the reason for you doing so.

“Please,” he whines and your face lights up. Eddie helps Gareth remove his pants from his ankles and you push him so his back is flat against the couch. You remove your panties and let them fall to the floor before lying on top of him, Eddie moving to be right beside the couch so he can watch the whole thing.

Gareth thinks you’re going to get to it, but to his surprise, you lean down and press your lips to his, this kiss soft and sweet unlike your other ones. It’s slow and you take your time just getting to know his lips thinking to yourself that you could kiss him all night and never get bored.

“This-this is my first time,” he tells you. “So don’t be surprised if I’m not good.”

“Shit.” You pull away quickly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth again. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No,” he shakes his head as he grabs hold of your hands. “I want to, Please fuck me.” He doesn’t care how pathetic he sounds. He just needs this so bad and he wants you and only you to be his first.

“If you’re sure. But we can always stop if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Okay,” he nods.

“Eddie?” You ask, turning to the metalhead.

“Hm?” He replies, and for a second, he’s convinced that you’re going to ask him to leave the room.

“Can I have the condom?” You ask and he’s wracking his brain, trying to remember where he set it. He sees it peeking out from under Gareth’s leg and reaches for it before handing it to you. Once you have it in your hands, you grab hold of his chin and pucker your lips as you lean towards him.

“Thank you, baby,” you say as you give him a quick peck and for some reason, that’s what makes him blush, not all of the stuff he’s done with his best friend tonight. That was nothing, apparently.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, now smiling like an idiot as he watches you put the condom onto Gareth. You finally top him and the feeling is so foreign, unlike anything he’s experienced, but it already feels so good.

You start out slowly, trying to get him used to the feeling as your hands rest on his shoulders and he’s already moaning even though you’ve barely done anything. He has no idea what he’s doing but he knows that he’ll be talked through it. You know it’s his first time so you’re not expecting him to know everything.

Eddie unzips his pants and whips his cock out, spitting into his hand and grabbing hold of his cock, just waiting until it gets hot and heavy so he can get himself off. He goes for it when he watches you help Gareth take off your bra, your hard nipples driving the man crazy.

You’re picking up your pace and so does Eddie so he can match you, so many noises filling the room between the three of you.

“Buck your hips,” he tells Gareth who turns to him in confusion. You grab hold of his hips and pull them towards yours to show him what you mean. Once he gets it, he does exactly what you did, causing his cock to go deeper inside.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie moans as his hand is pumping even harder. This is better than any porn he’s ever seen and maybe it’s weird that he’s so turned on but neither you nor Gareth seem to care so neither does he.

Gareth keeps doing what you showed him and other than his nervousness, you wouldn’t even be able to tell that he was a virgin. You think it’s cute that he’s awkward about it. It’s refreshing because too many men are so confident when they’re doing the wrong thing.

“That’s it,” you encourage. “Just like that. You’re such a good boy.” Gareth is sure that he’s going to come just by hearing that.

“Harder,” Eddie demands and you both do as he asks, taking it to the next level and Eddie’s even more hard as he watches your tits bounce up and down because of how hard and fast you’re moving. Fuck, maybe he’s going to be the one to come first.

And when he turns to Gareth, seeing how heavily he’s breathing, the sweat dripping down his body, it’s definitely doing something for him and he doesn’t know how the two of them can continue being friends like nothing happened, but that’s a bridge he can cross later. Right now, Gareth is the hottest man he’s ever seen and he’s totally okay with that.

Gareth’s back arches as another scream falls from his lips, this time, your name slipping out and you’re nothing but flattered, knowing that that is going to be replaying in your head on repeat, what you think of when you have no one around you to get you off.

“That’s it,” Eddie says. “You’re both doing so good. Just like that.”

“More,” Gareth slurs and you can’t help but laugh. You’re not even sure that he has any more to give.

“I think we’re done.”

“Done?” He slurs, as if he doesn’t believe you, but you’re already getting off of him and reaching for your dress and slipping it on.

“We can do this another time, I promise,” you lean down and press a kiss to his lips before handing him his underwear and jeans. Again? As in he can fuck you again and Eddie can watch? God, Eddie really hopes he can watch.

“Okay,” he smiles and gets his bottom half dressed as you reach for your bra before heading towards the door, the boys following closely behind like lost puppies.

“Oh, you forgot this,” Gareth holds up your panties and you take them from him before slipping them into his back pocket before pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.

“Keep them,” you wink then turn and give Eddie a kiss as well. “Don’t worry,” you tell him as you pull away. “You’ll get your turn next time and it’ll be so rough that you can’t walk.” For once, he’s rendered speechless and you just giggle and turn on your heel with your bra and heels in hand, completely oblivious that you’ve turned their world completely upside down.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x fem!reader #gareth emerson x you #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth emerson smut

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gyllenhaalstuff · 2 days ago

Text

Boy Back Home

- Donnie Darko

This fic is two requests mixed together, hope that’s alright ᡣ𐭩

Summary: You come over to Donnie’s house unannounced and find him touching himself.

Warnings: Sub!Donnie, masturbation, panty sniffing, touching himself to a picture of you, you’re a bit mean, blood (he accidentally bites your lip).

Word count: 964

Notes: This is really short (soz), might do a part two if it does well!

────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

Even though you felt too old to be forced on family vacations, you still got dragged along to Cape Cod over the summer. Your friend, or unofficial boyfriend (whatever you want to call it), Donnie, had been waiting for you all summer to come back home. He tried to pass the time as best he could. Shooting bottles, biking, watching shitty sitcoms. Most effective of all was staring at his Polaroid of you, where you are dressed in nothing but a bikini top and tiny shorts, and either burying his face in your panties or jerking himself off holding them around his cock.

You got home in late July. You never told Donnie about it beforehand; you wanted it to be a surprise. You barely got home before leaving to go to his house. Under a flowerpot on the front porch lay a pair of spare keys. You picked them up, inserted them into the keyhole, and quietly unlocked the front door. No one seemed to be downstairs; you began to wonder if Donnie was not even home. But you decided to check his room.

In case he was there, you walked the creaky steps as carefully as possible. His door was closed, and a light shined from under the door. Your body filled with excitement, you had missed him so terribly. You turned the doorknob and looked into his room. However, Donnie did not seem to notice you. In fact, his eyes were closed. On his chest lay a Polaroid of you from a few months back; one of his hands held a pair of your used panties, which you thought you had lost, in his face, and his other hand feverishly stroked his cock.

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you could not deny his little show turned you on. You stepped in the room and closed the door behind you. This woke Donnie up from his daydream. His eyes shot up, cheeks turned maroon, and he stilled. “Uh. Look, I—,” he stammered. You two were not dating, so this could have easily scared you off. “Don’t let me interrupt you,” you said and walked towards his bed. This was your chance to play around with him a bit, which you needed after being away for so long—too long. “I was enjoying the show.”

Poor Donnie thought he might pass away from embarrassment. Not only did the girl he liked walk in on him, but she also walked in on him stuffing her used, stolen panties in his face with her skimpy Polaroid right by. He had a hard time deciphering you, whether you were being genuine or not.

You met Donnie’s silence with a sigh. “I want to see what you’ve been getting up to without me here,” you said in a kinder, softer voice, hoping it would make him feel more comfortable. “You’re not mad?” He asked instead. You smiled and shook your head. “The opposite.”

Donnie's hand began stroking his cock again, now with his eyes open, looking at you. He realized then how much better you looked in real life than in that still picture. His hand holding your underwear softened its grip. “Did you steal these?” You pointed at the panties. Donnie’s gaze looked far away and cloudy. He hummed a yes.

He was not sure if this was real. Maybe he fell asleep while masturbating and was having some sort of erotic dream, but this was too realistic. His body spasmed in pleasure as he watched your face. It almost felt more perverted to jerk off to your face than, let’s say, your tits. This was not just desperation; this was adoration.

“What do you do with them?” You asked, already knowing the answer. But hearing him say it would do so much for you. “I smell them,” Donnie whimpered in response; his whole being was getting eaten up by horniness, and he did not have enough brain power to feel shame anymore. He just wanted to cum.

“Show me,” you inquired, and he obliged. He smothered himself with them once again, heavily breathing in your scent. His thighs shook as he did, and his hips moved more than his hand by now. He was basically fucking up into his fist. He moaned hopelessly into the lace, which did not do much to muffle the sounds. His sheer desperation turned you on as much as it angered you. You grabbed the panties from him and shoved them into his open mouth. “You’re too noisy.”

A few whimpers still slipped out, but you could deal with that. You tried your best to hold back, because even though you enjoyed watching him suffer, you wanted to put your lips to his flushed, sweaty skin and kiss him all over. He could make up for it later.

You could tell he was nearing his climax by the way his legs trembled and flexed. The veins on his thin, pale hand were protruding from the strain. The panties in his mouth were useless by now as his sounds grew louder. So, you took them out and replaced them with your tongue. He writhed on his sheets and sucked on your tongue. It was not pretty; it was sloppy and messy, but God, it felt good.

He accidentally bit down on your lip when he came, mixing your blood into the shared saliva. His cum landed on his stomach, cooling him down when the breeze from the AC brushed his skin. You broke the kiss and breathed heavily into each other’s mouths. “I’ve missed you so much,” Donnie said, still sounding whiny and weak. You smiled, “Me too. Now you can have the real deal,” you teased and pecked his lips. He hummed happily, wanting nothing more than to dive between your thighs.

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal smut #fanfiction #smut #donnie darko #donnie darko fanfic #donnie darko x reader #donnie darko smut #donnie darko fanfiction

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jd-loves-fiction · 2 days ago

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Hey! I wanted to request something for your Valentine's Day event. Can you do a Rin x Fem!Reader and their Childhood friends to Lovers? I'm sorry if I'm being too presumptuous but could you also add Mutual Pining to this one? I'm really sorry if its against the rules but I wanted to be a little specific with the trope! You can ignore this one! Also please make it fluff! (One more angst fic and i might just end it all 😭🙏) Thank you so much for holding this event! And take care! 💖💖

❣️Thank you so much for requesting hun!! I have so little event requests rn😭 anyways hope you like it!!!

𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓲𝓻

The stadium is filled with chanting and screaming, bodies clad in blue or yellow as two teams prepare to face each other.

PXG v. Barcha.

On Valentine's day, of all days.

“Says a lot about how dedicated the fans are, wouldn't you say?”

“Indeed, Joe. Though I'd say it’s just another day, right?” Quips one of the announcers over the radio – you listen, only half-interested as you wait for Rin to come out for warm-ups, hands sweaty from more than the Spanish heat and humidity.

“And that is why you’re not married, Martin. Anyway folks, the game is just about to begin so stay right there– Oh! Isn't that…?” About to begin? The teams aren't even on the field yet, they really want to keep people listening, huh.

“I think it is, Joe. That is Rin Itoshi’s girlfriend, standing by the field.” What--

“Not his girlfriend, Martin, nothing's been confirmed.”

“Well, I mean, with how much they’re around each other… and you know how antisocial both Itoshi’s are, I don't feel like Rin would be around someone that much if–” You turn off the radio on your phone – they’re talking about you, obviously, and you’d rather not hear it right now. Plus who are they to talk about Rin as if they know him? As if they know him anywhere near how you know him–

Enough. Clearly the nerves are getting to you and that won't do – you have a mission.

Rin finally steps out along with the rest of his team, giving Shidou the side eye to end all side eyes as usual, before turning to where he expects to find you – you wave him over, hands only slightly shaking.

He does as you ask easily, brushing away the long strands of hair that fall over his forehead, looking as dreamy as ever. It seems the photographers agree as flashes go off behind you as he does.

You clutch a handmade bracelet in your hand, it's crude, sure, especially compared to the high end stuff Rin usually adorns himself with, but it's lovingly made and you hope he’ll see that difference. It sports the colors of Rin’s first ever team – your first ever team as well, from back when football was just a game to the both of you and not a life-long revenge crusade for Rin and… before you realized that you only ever cared about it because he did. Because you lov–

“Hey,” He greets you, casting a suspicious glance to your clenched fist, “Hey, you,” you respond, slightly breathless.

“You know what day it is?” Hoping to subtly bring up the special occasion, you ask.

“The 14th?”

“Valentine, Rin. It's Valentine’s day.”

“Oh,” His teal eyes flash down to your hand once again as you take a deep breath.

Rin’s not hard to read once you know him, granted you don't start assuming things, positively or negatively. You learned that lesson the hard way when assuming he had a crush on a girl in his class in highschool – he was quick and firm in denying it. That's perhaps when you became truly sure that you had a chance with him, the way he said it, the way his eyes stayed on yours to make sure you heard him right and the way his cheeks darked in a rare show of embarrassment. Then, he went off to Blue Lock, and you didn't see him for nearly a year.

“Here,” you extend your fist, beckoning him to show you his open palm, which he does easily enough. Once he does, you gather the last of your needed courage and place the bracelet in his hand.

“Pretty,” he says, gently taking it between his fingers, a glint of gold at his wrist catching your eye, “why though?”

“Because it's Valentine’s day – when you're supposed to confess your feelings… and all that. So… there.” Your face is burning up something fierce and you’re suddenly aware of the hundreds of eyes on you, confidence wilting away like a delicate winter flower under the summer heat.

Rin gives you an unimpressed look, always one for honesty, you should've expected his next words, “Are you trying to say you have a crush on me?”

It should be merciful, perhaps it is since you seem suddenly unable to get the words out, but it sure doesn't feel like it as you nod a little. Rin hums in response, before putting the bracelet on with all the ease in the word, before leaning close to your ear, “I have a crush on you too.”

You both know those words are insufficient, especially for how long these feelings have persisted but it does the job or now, initiate honesty can come later, but it catches you off guard in such a way that you don't notice a gold band being secured around your wrist until he pulls away, “I’ll get you something else if you don't like it.”

As he turns to run to his team on the field, you look down at your wrist to see a delicate golden bracelet with both your initials engraved onto the outside.

“What was that, Joe? Did you see that? Was it a kiss perhaps?!”

“I can't be sure, Martin. But it's safe to say that love is in the air.”

Here's the Valentine's day event rules!

#❣️event #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #rin itoshi #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x y/n #rin x you #rin x y/n

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11queensupreme11 · 19 hours ago

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Hi! So, I actually don't know if I sent this ask cuz I wanted to send it at like 2 o'clock in the morning, and I also had the idea for the ask in what might have been a dream. Overall I am very confused, so if I did send this already or answered an ask similar to this then please ignore this 😅

So I was wondering what would happen if, in the cheating au, Percy does kill herself, but cu suddenly wakes up to when she first arrived, like in the isekai asks a while back. How insane would he be? Cuz I don't think he could just wait till the day he originally met her, and would just attack the greeks to get her back

oh i like this! back to the cú chulainn cheating au hehe (my fav au for him so far lol) and oooooooh another isekai to the past thing!!!!!!!

when cú chulainn wakes up back in his old room in his father's palace, he's gonna be confused. but then he gets the shock of his life when he sees what date it is; it wasn't just percy's "birthday" but also the year she was "born"

considering that they've been married for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years, he definitely knows about her arrival. she most likely told him what it was like, so he 100% knows to go straight to the bifrost to find her, knocks out the guards, and arrives just in time for her to fall out and catches her in his arms (awwww how romantic 💖)

this poor man is STRUGGLING not to get emotional. she's got bed hair, wearing the most ridiculous midgardian pajamas he's ever seen, and she looks lost af, but she looks absolutely BEAUTIFUL for him and he's in love all over again 🥺💖💖💖💖 he has to force himself not to be too forward; he has a chance to fix things again and he can't squander it by freaking her out.

so he plays along, acting just as clueless as her. he certainly has no idea how she got here, but he might as well take some responsibility and help the poor girl out! so he takes her back to the otherworld (the section of valhalla where the celtic pantheon resides). lugh is absolutely flabbergasted as to why his son's demanding they take in a mortal girl with an aura concerningly similar to poseidon, but he allows it thx to cú chulainn's insistence.

he tries to horde her in the palace LMAO 😭😭😭 just like the good ol days i guess. anyway, he becomes her friend and protector, the only person she can trust in this scary new universe. and he pretends to be helpful and try to find a way for her back home, when he's actually not. every day he comes with more grim news, "i'm sorry percy, no progress today", "i'm sorry, there was nothing new i could find", "i'm sorry, but things aren't looking so good..." he's trying to slowly ease her into the idea of giving on returning to that fucked up universe she calls "home", to break down every bit of hope she has left.

meanwhile, he tries to rizz her up LMAO 😭😭😭😭 but he actually knows what he's doing! this dude's a whore who slept with like... half of ireland, he is absolutely good at charming ladies. showing up shirtless and sweaty, getting in close to hear, touching her, rubbing her soothingly, etc. any girl would've swooned. the issue is that it's percy he's trying to rizz up 💀💀💀💀 percy who traveled through an entire labyrinth for days on end with a party of people who ALL liked her (anthonius, rachel, ethan) and didn't realize it 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

but it's okay cuz he knows how dense his silly (future) wife is, so he's not too irked. i know some ppl would think he'd be going insane rn, but nope! why would he fret? all the yans are out of the way, NOBODY knows of her existence aside from lugh and a few others, and he is the ONLY person she fully trusts. everything is going his way, he just needs to bide his time.

the most pressing matter is the issue of her soul. she's only got about a year before the first crack happens and she has to suffer agonizing pains 24/7, and then another year before she's obliterated for good. THAT'S his greatest worry, because he doesn't want percy to be in pain. his plan is to ascend into godhood and then ascend percy next to be his immortal wife and goddess in order to tackle the soul issue. forcing an ascension would make her hate him and he doesn't want that.

so he NEEDS her to fall in love with him fast so that the idea of eternity together wouldn't be so daunting to her. fortunately for him, getting her to fall would be easy when she's so isolated and he's the only other constant in her life 💖

also, you best believe he's never EVER going to cheat again. he's learned his lesson in the worst way possible, and he cannot ever put his beloved through that again.

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

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dollyzdaydreamz · 3 days ago

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Whiskey and Worn out Souls

John Marston x Fem! Reader (Dutch's daughter) Description: The events at blackwater and your fathers erratic behavior has you caught up in your thoughts at the saloon with the gang as they celebrate a petty win over the O'Driscolls. Two men decide to heckle you over your gunslinging outfit and you can't help but let your frustrations out on them. ⚠️Warnings: Violence (reader is a gunslinger, reference to Blackwater massacre) sexism, some people drink, reader has Dutch’s smart mouth, reader doesn’t drink but smokes a cig (don't smoke yall:)

angst/overthinking, daddy issues lowkey (^-^)

⚠️forgive grammatical errors, it's literally 2 AM rn (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ⚠️i dont own any of the rdr2 characters, they belong to Rockstar (≧▽≦)

The saloon was a lively mess, full of drunken laughter, piano playing, and the ever-present stench of stale beer and poor decisions. The gang had taken a petty victory against the O’Driscoll's as a reason to celebrate, and the drinks kept on coming. But while the others laughed and drank, you sat against the bar in your usual gunslinging attire: the revolver gifted by your father long ago strapped to your hip, a bandoleer around your waist, worn down jeans that reached just past your ankle, a shirt under your fur lined vest, and muddy boots. Your mood was darker than the cheap liquor in the bottles laid out on the counter.

You were trapped in deep thought as you fiddled with a chip of wood on the oddly sticky bar counter. Maybe, it was the Pinkertons steering closer to the gang, seemingly breathing down your necks at every train heist or bank robbery. Maybe it was seeing your fathers slow, yet subtle dissent to an even more distasteful degeneracy, ever since Micah’s unfortunate introduction to the gang. Maybe, it was the image of that poor woman’s brain plastered on the wall in Blackwater after your father had let a bullet fly at her skull upon Micah’s encouragement.

A few of the boys, noticing your off-mood, had asked if you wanted to join them across the bar, but you quietly declined, unable to shake the confusing thoughts whirling in your brain.

Which meant, of course, that some fool had to try your patience.

“That ain’t no way for a pretty lady to dress, miss” a baritone voice drawled beside you.

“I don't know, somethin’ about a woman in men’s clothing does something for me.” a more nasally voice chuckled.

You barely spared a glance at the men, hoping they'd get bored and run off with one of the working girls eventually.

Across the room, John shifted slightly, already pushing off his chair to intervene, but Dutch lifted a lazy hand, stopping him.

“Hold on there,” your father warned him, leaning back in his seat with a small grin. “Let’s just…enjoy the show”

You shifted in your seat to face them when you realized they weren’t going to leave yet, eyeing them down with a pensive nod as you held your cigarette between your fingers. One, a wiry rat-faced fella with the confidence of someone who'd never been clocked in the mouth. His friend, bigger and dumber-looking, smirked. His yellowed teeth at display as his eyes lazily raked over your figure.

You scoffed as you brought a cigarette to your lips and crossed a foot over your knee, lighting a match with the sole of your boot, “And who’re you two? The local drunk and his pet pig?”

The bigger man blinked “Huh?”

He huffed, trying to regain his footing. “Well, you uh-you look like you belong in…one of them male whorehouses up in Saint Denis”

You snorted, finding the insult a bit creative, “Like the one your pa’ works at?”

Arthur choked on his whiskey from across the room,

“He still doin’ those two-for-one deals, or did business slow down?” you asked, feigning curiosity.

Micah, of all people, stifled a chuckle behind his beer glass, leaning forward with interest, always up for listening in on some stirring drama.

The broader man frowned. “The hell did you just say ‘bout my pa?”

“Ah your right, I was outta line mentioning your father…” you apologized.

“Damn right” the smaller one said, puffing out his sternum.

“Maybe I should’ve asked if your mama was givin’ out referral discounts” you added, crushing your cigarette with your heel before standing up and meeting the oaf face to face.

That was the final straw. The bigger man snarled and raised his beer bottle at you,

“Who the hell do you think you are little girl?!”

Feeling a fit of anger wash over your previous indifference, your patience snapped,

“Give me that,” you grunted, snatching the bottle from him, “I’m your old friend amnesia” (stealing lines from my pookie John(✿◡‿◡)

Without a flicker of hesitation, you smashed it over his thick head.

The man staggered, eyes rolling, before dropping to the ground in a dazed heap.

You dusted off your hands and turned to the remaining man, who was frozen in shock.

Rat-Face took one look at his unconscious friend and quickly decided he had somewhere else to be.

“Now,” Dutch groaned as he stood up, slamming his bottle onto the counter with a piercing clink “does any other brave soul care to share their unsolicited fashion advice with my daughter?” He asked, putting his arm around you as he grandly gestured to the audience.

Silence.

“Alright, boys, let’s clear out. Leave the lady be,” Arthur sighed, shaking his head as he approached the lingering onlookers, “unless you wanna end up like this poor feller” he mumbled giving the unconscious giant a sympathetic look.

The small crowd eventually wandered off, some returning to their drinks whilst some distracted themselves with poker.

Dutch tapped a heavy hand on your shoulder, “I trained you fairly well.” He chuckled drunkenly with Micah, who turned to you with a loopy smile,

“Youu, had them twisted like a pair of knickers!” him and Dutch cackled once more, before taking another swig of beer.

Your gaze drifted to the man on the floor, then at your crimsoned hand, before it caught the dried O’Driscoll blood on your father’s knuckles as he tightly gripped his beer glass. A shiver ran down your spine, What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe I am a damn man, starting dumb bar fights. Suddenly you were hit with the overwhelming need to just get out of there. You sighed, grabbing your hat from the counter and pushing your way past the saloon doors.

John’s grin faltered as he watched you grab your hat and storm out of the saloon, clearly still stewing in your thoughts.

He exhaled and followed.

He found you by the lake, leaning against a lamppost, flicking stones into the water absentmindedly. The moonlight reflected off the surface, casting a silver glow over the waves and onto your face.

John approached quietly, hands in his pockets. He picked up a rock and tossed it in, but instead of skipping, it plopped straight down.

You huffed. “You never were good at that.”

John smirked. “Well, at least I didn't drown tryin’ this time.”

You turned, arching a brow, oblivious to his obscure reference.

He crossed his arms, leaning on the post beside you. “You really don’t remember? When we were kids? That time I tried skippin’ a rock real far to compete with you, but I-” he faltered a little, face flushing slightly, “I tripped and fell face-first into the lake.”

You paused, raking your mind for the memory until it came back with a chuckle, “Right, now I remember. Arthur had to haul you out, didn’t he?”

“Damn right he did,” John muttered. “I thought I was done for!”

You let out a small chuckle, but your face still held that quiet tension.

John sighed, skipping another rock. “You wanna tell me what’s…goin’ on? or are you just gonna keep throwin’ stones ‘til the lake dries up?”

You hesitate, rolling a smooth rock between your fingers, unsure of how to express everything on your mind.

“I guess…” you exhaled, feeling your chest tighten, “I just keep thinkin’ about what happened on that boat in Blackwater. About my fathers recent…behavior. That woman? She didn’t-she didn’t deserve that.”

You slouched, kicking the ground with your feet, “but if I say somethin’ then suddenly I’m just a doubter, hell maybe even a softie. Now I got random bastards at every corner telling me I ain't ladylike enough for not wearin’ a damn corset with my jeans” you huff, throwing another stone.

John’s faltered, initially unsure of how to comfort you, “Well…they don’t know a damn thing about you.”

“Maybe,” you murmured.

“But sometimes-” you turn to him, letting out an exasperated sigh, “I wonder if I even know me.”

“Well, what do you mean?”

“I spent my whole life hating my father’s ways, the blood he’s spilled,” you scoff, looking at your cut up hand, “but, really, I’m just like him.”

John was silent for a moment before shaking his head. “That don’t make you him. You ain’t Dutch. You’re you. There ain’t a soul in this world that can tell you who that is but yourself.”

You looked at him, feeling something warm settle your chest, before thinking of a quick way to divert the sensation “Well, that might be the most well put together sentence you ever uttered Marston.”

John rolled his eyes, “Shut up.”

He nudged you with his shoulder, before turning around to head back to the saloon.

“And Marston?” you call out, to which he turns back around

“if I ever see you near a lake again, just—y’know. Make sure Arthur’s around.”

He let out a genuine laugh, shaking his head before walking back, and for the first time that night, the weight on your shoulders felt just a little lighter.

divider is made by dollywons on tumblr :) images from pinterest, but collaged by me