#most of the time it'd be something i set aside after getting home and never actually read | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreadsuitsamus · 2 months ago

Text

Rich & Sad | Jiraiya x Reader |

author's note: this was in the wip graveyard for like a year plus, ngl, though @yeowangies admitting to being an old man fucker helped revive it. this is based on a song of the same name by post malone (i know, big surprise coming from me)

pairing: jiraiya x fem!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol, typically all the sadness you would think of in a jiraiya work tbh

I just keep on wishing that the money made you stay.

Jiraiya's pen flicks easily along the notepad; most authors opt for computers these days, and he supposes he should get with the times. But his old method of writing by hand on whatever scrap of paper he could find got him this far: sitting in a mansion with no spared expense and every amenity a man could dream of. Hell, it all started in a bar with an idea written on a cocktail napkin as he watched the bartender serve her regulars and newcomers through a peaceful reverie. It was the look in her eyes, so clearly not present unlike the rest of her working body, that flooded through the dam of his writer's block that sent him through a flurry of those little square napkins.

It's cold, though. Even with all the money his bank account could ask for, he finds turning the furnace on pointless; there's nobody to keep warm, and he's been numb to it for quite some time now. Perhaps he should relocate to the mansion down in Mexico soon— tis the season.

You always hated that mansion.

"Don't you love the view, babe?"

"Yeah…" Your eyes shifted from his as you lied.

He should burn it to ash.

Jiraiya's latest novel is for a new series, and while he initially only intended a one-off, he's quickly coming up with idea after idea to turn it into the most dramatic story he's ever thought of. It may just rival any soap opera by the time he's done— and wouldn't that be something, if he could have a book turned into a show or a movie? He's already got more money than he knows what to do with; it'd just be wasteful at this point.

But maybe a few more zeros on his bank balance can convince you he's worth it?

Jiraiya sets aside the pen and makes a call whilst surveying the empty room, reserving his usual VIP room at a club downtown, preemptively adding a few extra bottle girls to his tab before the line clicks and he's off to dress himself. His closet is massive, the size of the three bedrooms he had the walls of removed just to accommodate this collection of suits, accessories and the like, most of which he's never worn.

“Jiraiya, those rooms were supposed to be for our kids, not some ridiculous closet!”

“Relax! I can buy another house, baby, don't worry.”

Even in his own home, he's got appearances to upkeep.

Though he has worn every single tacky Hawaiian shirt he owns, of which he has an entire corridor of this closet dedicated to. The club he's booked tonight has a dress code specifically against those, however (and specifically put in place because of Jiraiya) so tonight he's opting for a black suit with gold accents and leaves the shirt behind as he buttons the jacket about halfway. He's not sure who started this movement of showing up half dressed, but he'd love to get on his hands and knees and give them all of his gratitude.

Jiraiya walks by the empty, unlit portion of the closet, refusing to think about the day he’d finally unscrewed and tossed out the lightbulbs shining light on his darkest days.

The club is loud, packed and boozy when Jiraiya arrives. He's enough of a regular to be vaguely anticipated even without his reservation, and as such there's more than a conga line’s worth of women waiting for him. The symphony of “Hiiii Jiraiya~!” is intoxicating, along with the cheers when he announces the drinks are on him tonight. He's got a card on tab at all times here; he doesn't even remember what it looks like, but it's probably a black card.

“Babe, you gotta start spending more on your card. The penalties are kicking my ass!”

“Then cancel the card.” Your voice is dead, along with your feelings for this relationship. You can't remember the last time you spent time with Jiraiya rather than a product of his wealth.

Jiraiya goes through the throngs of pretty ladies itching to be his sole beneficiary, kissing them all with an obscene amount of tongue before he's even gotten to his private party room. The bottle girls are ready, serving what he's buying to every patron in the club. The atmosphere is rowdy and everyone's having fun, swapping drinks, pills and saliva. What else are Saturday nights good for?

“Can't we stay in for once? I'm not up for partying.”

“Well, what the hell else are we gonna do?”

In the center of the room, Jiraiya sits alone in the plush armchair, staring through the sexy bodies before him and rather at the wall. When you've done this once, you've done it a thousand times. He hasn't found joy in any of this in many years now.

He hasn't felt anything.

All this stunting couldn't satisfy my soul.

Jiraiya’s back in the mask the moment gentle fingertips touch his jaw, and when he looks up he could swear he's seeing you. But then one blink and the truth is before him: you're not here, and never will be. As the image of the stripper before him settles, he plasters on a smile and allows her to pour the liquor right into his mouth.

By closing time, he's got thousands on his tab and can hardly stand on his own. He's more than capable of holding his liquor, but frankly he's had much more than he should've. Truthfully, he's surprised he's got a liver at all anymore. Jiraiya stumbles out of the club, that big body crashing into a light pole as he fumbles for his cell phone, the device being the latest edition Apple has to offer, though the old man can hardly figure any of it out. It crashes to the concrete, shattering the screen that brightly displays a picture of you looking so bright and smiley and happy.

He stole the photo from your Instagram page when you posted it on a day many moons after you left him. And he made sure to crop out the man beside you that's wearing your wedding ring on his finger.

Jiraiya hits the ground hard when he bends over to pick up the phone, and with the cold air chilling the sidewalk he finds himself more willing to stay there than try to find a way back home in his inebriated state.

Got a hundred big places but I'm still alone.

The bright light of the broken screen blinds him, but he still manages to dial your number through nearly-closed eyes. The ringer drones on and on, and just when he thinks he's going to voicemail, the line picks up.

“Jiraiya.” It's said with a sigh, softly. There's no irritation this time, and instead he's met with nothing but pure sadness. “You can't keep calling me.”

“What if I penned a new medical drama, hm? Those’re popular…”

“Why don't you do what fulfills you, like your first novel?” Before he'd waded into the world of smut and taken on those rabid readers, he'd written a thrilling book that sold poorly, but has a rather dedicated cult following after all these years. It was a truly brilliant read, and even now serves as a reminder of the man you originally fell in love with.

“Those books don't sell. The money didn't make you stay… So it's gotta be worth the trade, no?” He's far too late in the game to make it right; after your ex-fiancée has her fifth wedding anniversary, there usually isn't any salvation in pulling your head out of your ass.

I would throw it all away.

#jiraiya x reader #jiraiya x you #jiraiya #jiraiya naruto #naruto imagine #reader insert #x reader #fic

25 notes · View notes

oumagines · 2 years ago

Text

Kokichi With A Shy Age Regressor S/O Who Loves Pink And Girly Things

Anonymous Asked: "Could I request kokichi with a shy age regressor s/o?One who really likes pink and girly things? Thank you!! Sorry if it's a lot!"

Warnings: Kidnapping, mention of DD/LG, gang violence (?)

Reader Pronouns: They/Them

Rating: 🍊

Notes: Oh, you don't need to apologize!! This request is so cute!! And this is actually quite a simple request, and it was really fun to write!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Kokichi Ouma is a man whose feelings seem to fluctuate at random. But however, the one time you'd truly see a glimpse into how much he loves you is when you're little. The littler you are, the kinder he is to you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ For one thing, he won't see the need to hurt or punish you for the most part. Or at the very least, if he does, it won't be nearly as harsh as if you weren't agere.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ First and foremost, he's willing to go out and buy literally anything little you might ask for, and forcefully willfully becomes your cg, since that will entrench him into your life.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ And best part? Everything he brings you is some shade of pink if he can find it, otherwise it'll be purple or red, the closest colors to pink. He also likes to bring them in pastels so it's harder to distinguish between the actual pink and his "failures".

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Practically every single time he goes out, something will catch Kokichi's eye that reminds him of you, and he'll get it for you. Whether it's a cute little plushy, some adorable pink hair ribbons, or other toys you could play with when little, he'll purchase them immediately and be pretty much buzzing on the way back home.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ If anyone were to question his sudden influx of more childish purchases, he'd probably make up something about volunteering at an orphanage or babysitting some neighbors' kids.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ But when he returns home, he knows he's setting up for the day he finally kidnaps you, wanting you to be as comfortable as you can possibly be.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ So naturally, when you do get kidnapped, you're understandably confused about how this room is so completely ideal to you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Enter your cg, telling you that he brought you here because the world is just too dangerous for someone so soft and sweet, and that you're too little for all that... That only he can protect you...

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ After all, there are a lot of people who would think of your agere as a kink, rather than seeing it for the coping mechanism that it is. And someone as pure and soft as you doesn't deserve to have that innocence tainted by something so vulgar, or so he thinks.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ He also tends to gush over your shyness, but in a teasing way.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ "Aww~! Why, my S/O is so shy, aren't they? So cute, tiny, and timid! That's what you want to hear, right?"

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ If you ever call him "Papa" or "Big" while little, congrats! You get to see his heart melt in his chest!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ As long as you aren't fighting back, you probably never get punished, to be honest. He likes seeing you smile much more than seeing you cry, because if he makes you cry, the guilt of knowing that he hurt someone who's supposed to trust him will just... crush him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ He will 100% pretend his favorite color is pink and start wearing it just so you two have something to gush over together. And in truth, it isn't a lie. But it's only his favorite because it reminds him of you. If not for that, it'd be useless to him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Kokichi has sacrificed a lot for D.I.C.E.. It was his duty as their leader. So when someone or something makes Kokichi as happy as you do, you can expect D.I.C.E. to be practically your biggest fans aside from Kokichi, himself. Meaning they won't save you from being kidnapped and may even help Kokichi cover his tracks. I mean, he isn't violent with you, so... no point in not doing it, right?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Whether you're little or not when you go to bed determines the way you sleep. If you're little, Kokichi will pull your head into his chest and rest his chin on the back of your head, using his hands to caress your back as you drift off. If you're big enough, he'll hold your hand and... that's pretty much it. You sleep mostly independent of each other except for the fact that he's not letting go of that hand. You probably didn't need it- /lh

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ All in all, you get a mostly wholesome Kokichi. And although you're safe from the punishments... that doesn't mean everyone else is.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ :)

126 notes · View notes

nowoyas · 3 months ago

Text

Koi no Yokan 9: don't startle the stray (Nishinoya Yuu/Reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: MAN this chapter got away from me. enjoy some fluff!

Summary: The weekend at Nekoma comes to an end. You settle in for the ride home.

Warnings: blanket series warnings

Words: ~4400

The vibes are off and you're too tired to do anything but marinate in them.

Another shuffle of bus seats—three girls, two seats at most, but because it's at least daylight and you're alright with it, the others, including Takeda-sensei, have reluctantly allowed a single instance of co-ed seating on the bus, trusting that you'll hit Noya if he tries anything. (You'd gotten onto the bus after him, but you're pretty sure he threatened to fist-fight anyone who sat with him and took your spot. Taking the aisle seat didn't save you: he simply climbed over you to take the window seat.)

Surprisingly, he's not taken the opportunity to talk your ear off. He's kind of got the same vibes everyone else has had ever since this morning, the ones you can't place.

Tense, maybe? Moldy?

You try your best to sigh only internally, not fully willing to be forced to hash it out in an enclosed space regardless of who's decided to pounce on your mood. Instead, you stare at the same damn page of your book that you never got through on the way down here and don't process a single word.

Hinata… got too excited, you guess. Crashed right into Azumane because he wasn't paying enough attention to who the set was for. No one hurt, but then he started in about changing things (not a bad idea, in your totally-expert opinion as someone who has recently gained an entire half of an idea about how volleyball works but who also just spent the past day or so watching them lose), got totally shut down by Kageyama, and outright stated that what they're doing as a team isn't actually working. And ever since, this is what it's been: something pulled taut between the team, everyone on edge.

Something's gonna burst soon.

It's probably a good thing, you think? One of those throw-up-and-then-you'll-feel-better deals. They'll have, like, one big event that fixes everything, and it'll all go back to normal, and it'll be fine and the thing that gets you out of the house will stay fun.

Yeah. It'll be fine.

Mei had always been the weirdest Nishinoya sibling. Kaede was responsible (don't make trouble for Mom this month; she gets really sad around the time her ex-husband left); Satsuki was the troublemaker (I wouldn't have punched him if he weren't such a bitch). Yuu was the only boy, the baby, and only a bit less bad than Satsuki. But Mei?

Mei was quiet. She was a Nishinoya and she was quiet. Despite looking alike, the contrast between her and every single other Nishinoya sibling resulted in strangers assuming they were friends at best and that Mei was being harassed by strangers at worst. Jii-chan got to her too late, probably: all the shyness and all-consuming anxiety that Yuu learned to throw out, to set aside, to hold in for times when no one could see, remained her defining trait.

She didn't have any particular strong hobbies that she was willing to talk about. She cried seemingly at random. She spent long stretches of time doing what looked like nothing at all. She was smart and good at school, but where Yuu got to the test and found it almost impossible to focus long enough to finish in time, she'd sit down for an exam and be escorted out half an hour later, hyperventilating after talking herself into a panic attack. Where he'd learned to simply not give a fuck about academics because he was never gonna be good at them anyway, she was already good and stressed herself to tears.

It'd been Yuu who checked the college entrance exam results for her, Satsuki who screamed about her acceptance loud enough to wake the neighbors, and Kaede who baked a cake to celebrate. But before that, they had to bring home Soba.

Satsuki would kill him for saying it, but Mei was also his favorite sister. He had her to thank for teaching him to spot the onset of an anxiety or panic attack, and her to thank for being able to tell the difference between the two. It was Mei he learned simple, effective strategies for calming oneself for, and Mei who jumped to his defense when he brought home yet another shitty test score. It was hard to control his energy around Satsuki, just a year older than him and the most likely sibling to start or join a fight, and Kaede was kind and responsible but just didn't get it. Mei was the one he could sit silently with, decompress, just exist without feeling the need to be bigger than himself. He found that hard to do with anyone else, at any other time.

(It helped that Mei was the only sister who did not tease him for his height, being shorter than every single other Nishinoya sibling and the only boy.)

The day he found Mei crouching near an empty building in the pouring rain, he listened to her whispered instructions, and they stuck.

Don't push too hard. Crouch down, make yourself small so she doesn't think you're a threat. Let her smell you, but don't reach too fast or move too quickly. Don't shout or you'll scare her. If she hisses or shies away, back off. Be patient, and don't give up.

Admittedly, he's been trying to use the same methods that brought Soba home that first night to get close to you, and admittedly, he hasn't done a very good job with most of them, but you don't seem to have noticed when he breaks a cardinal rule by tackling you or shouting because he's excited to see you, and anyways you're not a stray cat and the two of you are more in the "befriending a nervous cat" stage, but the general strategy stands.

Mei's instructions after the two of them had gotten Soba home had been similar to the ones that got Soba out from under the porch she'd been hiding under, and following those instructions religiously were why Soba loved him and Mei and hated everyone else alive, save for you.

If she needs to hide, let her hide as long as it won't hurt her. It's not like we're trying to give her life-saving medicine, and we'll leave out the things she needs so she can access them on her own time.

Picture you, texting him multiple times in the middle of the night, asking for nothing but a picture of Soba with the sort of texting tone that indicated something was wrong. Picture you, refusing to explain what was wrong. Picture him, letting it go even when he can't shake the sense that you didn't just randomly decide you wanted to see his cat at four in the morning.

Try not to upset her routine. She's a nervous kitty, so doing things around the same time each day will help her get used to us.

This is how he justifies yelling your name and complimenting you every single morning. You're not quite as skittish as Yachi is, but he sees the way you walk yourself into conclusions in your head and he saw the way you spiraled directly into an anxiety attack that time you helped him Ryu and him study. And anyway, you smile when he tells you you look nice that day, so he's not stopping that anytime soon.

Let her come to you. Don't chase her down.

He's not sure near-daily marriage proposals qualifies for not chasing, so to speak, but he's really, really trying not to push any harder than you seem to be okay with.

This last one—other rules for acclimating the nervous new cat that he's decided also apply to courting the prettiest girl he's ever seen—is why, after the fortieth time since he slid into the bus seat beside you, he still doesn't ask why, exactly, you've been on the same page of your book for the past—he checks his phone—forty-three minutes, give or take.

There's no point to giving space to worry ninety percent of the time. If he can't change the outcome, there's no sense in worrying. It's not that he doesn't feel the worry—he just… sets it aside. It's easy to forget it's there if you switch focus to something else, and he's the champion of not focusing on anything at a given time. Shouyo gets too caught up in the game, he creates a new worry by smashing into Asahi's side, but no one was hurt, so forget about it—there's a set to play, a ball to bump, a point to keep in play until it lands on the other side of the net.

But here he is: four and a half hours on a bus, and his most frequent worry these days has been silent a different way from the usual. Yuu would like to think he knows the difference between your pleasant-quiet and your something's-wrong-quiet, and he would also like to think that this difference is fairly obvious considering how much of the past forty-three minutes of silence was you openly glaring at your book without reading it.

Part of let her come to you and don't chase means following cues and paying attention to how you react. You don't like when people worry over you. In fact, you do everything you can to make sure they don't have a reason to. It has the opposite effect, as far as he's concerned, but you take it to a new extreme. He even swears you try to hold in yawns until no one's watching you so no one thinks you're tired, even when the bags under your eyes are clearly running deep. And you're good at putting on a mask—he's seen you switch, the exact moments you decide to smile and talk sweet or otherwise mask some emotion you've decided doesn't have a place in the situation.

That being said, this latest glance worry-ways has him catching you before you sway into the aisle, a firm hand quickly grabbing your shoulder and guiding you back to safety.

Your eyes drift open as he tries not to laugh. "Mmgh?"

"You almost fell," he whispers. "Go back to sleep, we've got a while to go."

"Mmkay."

He shuts his eyes tight, presses a hand firm over his mouth to stop himself. Much like the first time Soba fell asleep on him, there's a life-changing pride that swells in his chest, spiking to what he's pretty sure counts as a cardiac event when you sway again, this time leaning over to rest your head against his shoulder.

"Uh—[name]-san—"

You turn your face into his shoulder wordlessly. You've already fallen back asleep.

Face burning, he shuffles to get comfortable, marks your page in your book, and sets it closed on your lap. Then, as an afterthought, he pulls up his phone's camera and starts a video recording.

"Before you fall back asleep, [name]-san," he whispers.

You wrinkle your nose, let out a tiny whine of acknowledgment.

"Marry me?"

You let out a breathy mumble that he's pretty sure is an attempt at the words stay still.

He won't argue with that.

You wake up with a sore neck.

You'd imagine it has something to do with the weight currently resting on your head, but you can't be sure and you're too tired to bother opening your eyes or moving. Instead, you listen to the ambient noise of the bus, which right now appears to be consumed with whispers more than anything.

"E-eh?" Yachi is saying to someone. "I-I can't just—that would be so rude—"

"Come on. You can always delete it if she asks when she's up."

"I-I'm sorry, Tanaka-san—"

"No worries. Here, let me just—"

You have a weird feeling about this. You shift, turn your face into whatever it is you've decided to use as a pillow for this bus ride.

This is about when you remember who you were sitting beside for the ride back.

"Got it! I'm just gonna—"

"Tanaka-senpai, if I open my eyes and I see you recording us in any form, I'm breaking your phone," you grumble, not bothering to unwind your arms from what you're pretty sure is Noya's midsection. You're also pretty sure that soreness in your neck has something to do with his head resting on yours, and you're absolutely certain that that's his arm around your waist. Put simply, any untangling right now is gonna wake him up if you're not careful.

All fine. You vaguely remember him catching you from falling into the aisle earlier. Given that he would appear to be asleep right now, you can't really blame him from shifting into a more comfortable position in his sleep, especially seeing as you can't see him moving your arms to wrap around his body in your sleep. That, and you know how often you wake up cuddling your pillow. For once, you're not going to kill him for something.

That being said, you're also pretty sure Tanaka can tell that you're not fucking around.

"Do me a favor and don't open your eyes yet, then," he replies simply. After a moment's shuffle: "Alright, now you don't have to break my phone."

Your phone—or maybe Noya's?—buzzes between you.

You'll bet actual money that he just sent whatever photo he took to one—or both—of you.

You open your eyes with a sigh, raising an eyebrow when you catch Yachi's sparkly look from over the seat back.

"Um." She takes a moment to collect herself. "Sensei says we'll be stopping at a rest stop soon, so everyone should be ready to get up and stretch their legs."

"'Kay."

Tanaka leers from across the aisle. "You can have the honors of waking your cuddle buddy up, [name]-san. Since you two are so close all of a sudden."

"I'm going to hit you."

"Lucky me, you'll need to wake him up to do that, and I'm pretty sure Noya-san will hold you back if you try."

You grumble. "Just watch me."

Finally, finally, you move to untangle yourself from Noya. Pat a hand on his chest in hopes of getting him to wake up. "Senpai. C'mon."

He shuffles a little. You shake him harder.

"Senpai."

He sighs sleepily, brings up his other arm to pull you against his chest in a crushing hold.

Tanaka stifles a laugh behind you. "By the way, he's got a bit of a death grip when he's still asleep. Good luck!"

"Don't you good luck me, help!" you hiss, wriggling in his hold.

"Promise not to hurt me for anything that's happened on this bus today?"

"Tanaka-senpai! After all I did for you—"

A hand reaches over the back of your seat, baps Noya on the head hard enough that it moves your head.

"Oi," Ennoshita says. "Get up. You're crushing [surname]-san."

A sleepy mumble. You feel the weight on top of your head shift, and you peek up at Noya, red-faced as you watch him process where he is.

Your one consolation is that he appears to become equally red-faced the moment he looks down at you. "Good morning, Senpai. P-please let me go so I can kill your best friend."

Impossibly, his hold on you tightens, sleep clearing from his eyes with frankly impressive speed. "What'd he do?"

"Irrelevant. I said please?"

He hums softly. "I'm not sure… we do need him for matches…"

Fuck. You need to get out of this before you combust. Not even just because this weird twist in your torso is starting to make more than just your neck hurt—every word from his mouth is rumbling through his chest, still sleep-tinged, and straight into you. "C'mon, Ennoshita-senpai can take his place, it won't kill you guys."

He studies you carefully, having apparently immediately grown used to the position where you've become a teddy bear. "Give me a strong yes and I'll think about it."

Alright, bet. Time to break out the big guns.

Looking at him with your best, sweetest puppy-dog eyes, you shift your voice into something just a touch cutesier than your usual. You'd normally never be caught dead with that tone, but desperate times call for desperate measures, right? "Senpai."

He blinks, expression going carefully blank.

"Please?"

He lets you go like he's been burned, and you immediately respond by launching yourself at Tanaka. Regrettably, Sawamura had sat across the aisle from the both of you as a pseudo-chaperone. He doesn't even look up when he sticks an arm out between you to block your path.

"The cleaning fees if you murder someone on the bus are ridiculous. All that hard work you and Yachi-san put in for donations would barely make a dent in it."

You frown, deflating a little. "I barely put in any work. Don't credit me for that."

He glances up at you curiously, but doesn't lower his arm until the bus pulls into the rest stop. "Tanaka, don't antagonize [surname]-san."

"Why am I getting yelled at? She's the one threatening me!"

Sawamura doesn't respond. You stick your tongue out and quiet down—Takeda-sensei's gotten up to address the bus.

"Alright, everyone, we're going to take some time to stretch and eat before getting back on the road. Feel free to get out, get some food, and everything, just please remember to be back at the bus in forty-five minutes."

Ukai nods along. "Don't make us hunt you down."

A round of affirmations stirs up in reply as your heart sinks.

You didn't bring any money.

No problem; you'll get off, bathroom break just so you can say you got off the bus, and then just get back on the bus and wait to leave. Maybe actually make progress on that fucking book you haven't been reading even though you've had at least six non-consecutive hours to read. It's getting ridiculous at this point.

You hop off the last step of the bus, scan the area until you find the large red and blue signs indicating the bathrooms. Before you can take more than two steps towards them, someone taps your shoulder.

There's Noya, grinning like always. "Where are you off to?"

"Bathroom. I'm pretty sure you can't legally follow, Senpai."

"Wanna grab lunch?"

"I'm not that hungry, but thanks."

He doesn't miss a beat. "I'll treat you."

"We've been over this, you don't have to—"

"Consider it payment for the exams I wouldn't have passed without you."

"You already got me chips and stuff."

"And now I'm getting you lunch. Come on." He guides you very deliberately towards the food court. "If you actually need to use the bathroom I'll let you escape, but if you hide there until we leave I'm picking food for you and buying it anyway."

"You're insane."

"You're stuck with me," he retorts, and, well, you don't have anything to say to that.

You get the Shunsai Curry and Noya gets a slice of pizza. He'd raised an eyebrow at you picking the cheapest thing on the menu, but let it slide when you pointed out it was a meal and you could have just refused to eat anything but gelato.¹⁸

He'd then insisted that afterwards, you get gelato. You'd insisted that he not buy you gelato. You've compromised, and now you're sitting across from him with a cup of gelato.

12:42. Be back at the bus in thirteen minutes. Give five minutes to walk, or three if you're willing to run, which Noya might be but you're not. Finish the gelato by 12:50. Easy enough, if you could make yourself take a bite.

"You alright?"

900 yen for the curry. 350 yen for the gelato. He's spent 1,250 yen on you in the past thirty-two minutes.¹⁹

Another glance at your phone. 12:43. You're going to be late getting back if you don't eat the stupid gelato, and you can't waste it. Not when he spent 350 yen on it.

This is so fucking stupid.

"[name]-san?"

A hand waves in your field of vision. You blink, snapping back into reality. Noya finished his gelato sometime between the walk from the stand to the table, while you haven't even tasted yours.

"Sorry," you mumble. You don't elaborate.

"I asked if you were alright. You're glaring at the gelato even harder than you were glaring at your book earlier."

"Oh. Sorry."

"One more apology, and I'm buying you a souvenir—"

"Stop," you snap, the anger startling even you. "Stop wasting money on me, Noya-senpai. You don't have to—I'm not a charity case, you know?"

He flinches a little, settles back in his chair. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"Aren't you? I'm not—I'm not destitute or anything, I just—I mean—Otoo-san has money, I could have just asked for money to spend on the way back, it's not—"

"I didn't think you were," he says slowly. "Poor, or anything like that. I mean, I've seen your house."

"Exactly!" you bite out as the first tears slip down your cheeks. "You've seen my house. You're probably just—I mean, everyone in the neighborhood probably knows that—"

He slips back into that gentle tone from before, the cat-coaxing tone like you're some scared animal. "Hey. Why are you crying? I'm sorry."

You drop your head, stab the gelato almost too hard with your spoon. "Do you seriously not know?"

"You're really going to have to elaborate for me to have any idea what you're talking about."

"…let's do this. Why do you go out of your way to be nice to me and buy me stuff?"

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen and I like being around you," he says, beginning to count on his fingers. "I'd say we've become friends, seeing as you actually started calling me Noya-senpai when I asked you to and we talk a lot, and I like doing things for my friends. Especially when they're pretty girls."

"…do you have a lot of pretty girls as friends?"

"Just the one!" He doesn't miss a beat. "Not only that, but a good senpai takes care of his underclassmen. It's my job to buy you and Shouyo ice cream and nikuman! Hm, what else… oh! Because I wanna spoil you! I said this before, but you've got a really nice smile, and even though you always try to stop me from spending money on you, you usually smile and you always thank me, which feels really nice."

Unbelievable. Actually unbelievable. Everyone in the fucking neighborhood knew about it. You spent weeks getting cards and flowers and fruit plates from well-meaning strangers. You stopped going to the closest grocery store because the owner kept giving you a pitying look and mysteriously forgetting to charge you for a few things. The only butcher shop you're willing to attend is because the owner has never even once commented on it, even though you're certain she knows. And Noya has no idea. "Is that seriously it?"

"Oh! Also because I don't think anyone should have to skip lunch just because they don't happen to have any money on them. I've got the extra to feed you, and Okaa-san and Jii-chan are both huge on the whole 'if someone goes hungry, you're failing them' deal. So right now I'm also feeding you because it's the right thing to do."

You study him carefully. You're not sure Noya can lie—he's refreshingly, frustratingly open at all times. He doesn't ever hold back. Even for stupid things like transparently trying to get you to let him try your cooking, he just admits to it when you confront him.

"…how good are you at keeping secrets?"

"Satsuki, my sister, has gotten into something like twenty fights in her lifetime and our mom has never heard of a single one of them. Does that mean anything?"

Fuck it. You've already broken down in public. "Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"

He blinks slowly. "Yes. Absolutely. Why?"

"I… I'll tell you about it, but we really don't have the time right now, and I don't want to talk about it in front of everyone else in the club, so…"

"Dinner, then." He grins. Pats your head. "Eat your gelato quick and try to get the sniffles out so we can run back to the bus without anyone asking any questions. I'll let you run my phone battery down with full access to the Soba albums once we're back."

You obey quietly: wipe your tears, eat your gelato. Noya checks his phone while you freeze your brain, and at 12:52, the two of you run back to the bus and pile into your seats at exactly 12:55.

Once again, you underestimated him.

Footnotes

18. In draft one of this chapter, I mixed up Nekoma and Shinzen's locations, so I laid out this whole itinerary for getting back from the weekend training camp to Miyagi and researched rest stops along the route they were most likely to take and settled on one in Tochigi before remembering that Nekoma was NOT the school based in Saitama and Karasuno would take a totally different route home. I had to re-write this section to accurately go off of what was available at the rest stop they would actually stop at, which makes me deeply sad for two reasons. One: the rest stop in Tochigi had lemon milk, which is now the second food item I have an aching urge to try someday as a result of research for this fic. Two: the sentence that originally started this scene was, "You get a karaage bowl and Noya gets the hamburger steak", which I personally prefer the general rhythm of. Unfortunately, neither of these items were on the menu at the rest stop they're actually at.

19. At time of editing, this comes out to about $8.55 USD. Just so we're clear about how much Noya's ruining his financial future with all this big spending. Prices taken from the menus on the linked site in footnote 18.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

#my fics #noya x reader #nishinoya yuu x reader #yuu nishinoya x reader #yuu nishinoya/reader #nishinoya yuu/reader #noya/reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu/reader

8 notes · View notes

misc-obeyme · 6 months ago

Note

okay okay I'm back with more self indulgent poly coffee au. Last time I said Lucifer fixed up the piano, and there's definitely another scene idea there, but I'm so excited about the Horror night one that I'm skipping the piano scene aksjdj. I even re-read the horror movie night devilgrams for research. Yeahhh, research,,,,(that one line from Mammon where he comments on MC's scared face lives rent free in my head). But I learned Mammon would have nightmares, and Solomon gets really into the plot.

okay so I think it'd be nice if the three of us meet on Wednesdays before I head to the record shop. Solomon brings his homework, but never gets much done, too happy to talk to us instead. Wednesday is the only day I wake up super early, all because I'm looking forward to hanging out for longer with the two of them. It gets me out of bed, but I have shown up looking groggy as hell some days. Record shop is open 11-7:30 Monday through Friday? And 11-9 on Saturday, but closed Sunday. The only reason it closes early is because I take the bus, and that's not something that's fun taking at night. Saturday night I stay at the shop (thinking of a mini storage/break room upstairs where I've set up a sleeping bag). Coffee shop I think is also closed Sunday, but Mon-Friday it's 7-3:30, with Saturday being 7-12 so he can get errands done. And then Sol has classes Mon/Tues/Thurs/Fri.

OKAY ANYWAY, WORLD BUILDING ASIDE, the three of us meeting on our usual Wednesday, and Solomon mentions this movie he wants to see. He says he has extra tickets because the people he planned on asking can't make it, it's a midnight showing on Friday. Says he understands if we can't since we both need to get up early the next day, but wanted to ask. I agree because I think it'd be nice to hang out outside of the coffee shop, and Mammon says he's not one to turn down a free outing. He can run on little sleep anyway, he's got espresso to help.

The three of us trying to figure out the logistics, Solomon saying he'll even pay for rides there and back home if needed. Mammon blurts out "Why don't y'all sleep over after?" and we both turn to look at him. He freezes and turns red, but he's already said it, he can't turn back now. "What? I-I got a car, I'll pick the two of you up, and y'all can stay at my place. T-That way, it's not too far from your shop, and your apartment, right?" "I could walk home from here, I wouldn't want to intrude-" "Yeah, I don't mind taking an uber-" "Walking at night can be dangerous, don't you know!? And you! Getting into a strangers car so late is even worse! I'll drive you both home if that's what ya want, but I don't mind having you two over." Solomon is fighting the urge to make a comment about it being like a date. I'm just happy to not have to wake up as early.

"Yo, why'd you want to go to the midnight showing anyway? Are ya that excited to see it?" "Haha, that's not the main reason. It's a horror movie! A midnight showing would be the most immersive." Cue me and Mammon freezing, giving each other terrified looks. Oh man.

Leading up to the outing date, Mammon and I are researching like crazy, only to find out it's the premiere. So there's no spoilers or ways to prepare. We're going in blind. I'm not one to watch many horror movies, the closest things being Saw, Final Destination (both of which I love), and I think a movie series called Paranormal Activity or something. But I always looked away during scary scenes during that. Yet I'm too stubborn to turn it off because I need to know the ending.

Friday comes, Mammon closes up and tries to take a nap to calm his nerves after stress cleaning to get everything neat for the sleepover. And no one planned it, but everyone has dressed up a little nicer than usual. Mammon's got a lucky watch that was gifted from Lucifer, and an open button up with the sleeves rolled up.

He gets in his car to go pick up Solomon, his heart hammering in his chest because Solomon is wearing a nice button up and maybe a sweater? And wearing cologne?? Please help Mammon, he is panicking, trying to reign it in as Solomon puts his overnight bag in the trunk. His voice cracks as he greets Solomon, and immediately begins driving to pick me up, turning up the music as a distraction.

Not sure what I'd wear, but I've got extra jewelry on because it makes me feel cool. Maybe a mesh shirt and a cardigan?? But I wear perfume, and I'm nervous without any clue why. I've got my wallet and my duffel bag, and snort when Solomon jumps out and opens the passenger door like a gentleman before climbing into the backseat. The drive is slightly tense, all of us nervous until I spot a car with a difference state plate. My friend introduced me to this game, and I instinctively bump Mammon's arm and call out the state, which breaks the tense atmosphere. The three of us fall into comfortable conversation until we reach the movie theater.

okay there's a really funny idea I have for the next part that happens during the actual movie. Solomon is going to be living his best life very soon OKAY BYEEE

- ✨ anon

AHHHH I wanna know about Solomon living his best life!! Lemme guess, he's sitting between you two and something especially scary happens so you're both clinging to him out of fear?!? LOL!

Oh man, both of you guys not liking horror is so cute! I totally get it, I'm not a horror fan at all. I can't watch horror movies because I get so freaked out, I can't sleep for months. Books seem to be no problem, but movies for some reason I can't handle lol.

ANYWAY I also love how Mammon is coming up with reasons why you should both sleep over, that is so sweet - of course he's getting all overprotective! Walking at night! Getting into a stranger's car!! You're gonna give him a conniption!

And ohh Solomon being the gentleman and opening the door for you, that's adorable, too!!

As always, I will be pleased to know what happens next, but of course no pressure & no rush! I'm just enjoying this cute lil love story~

#like I'm on the solomams train but also with your MC because they're all so cute together #obey me #obey me solomon #obey me mammon #✨ anon #misc answers

16 notes · View notes

chacha-diaries · 11 months ago

Text

when you least expect it

November 19, 2023 - December 30, 2023

It is exactly 1:51 AM and the clock continues to tick at this moment. When I bravely face this year, I have no idea what is going to happen. There is so much to feel.

In January, all I did was survive one day at a time. I woke up every morning with a heavy stomp in my heart. The agony, pain, and disrespect. The blurriness of my emotions and thoughts. I can't get anything straight, but I am forcing myself to. I am holding my shit together despite resisting to collapse any minute. I thought it'd last forever. I thought there would be no end to what it felt. But I survived it.

In February, I grieved. I lost my grandpa in heaven. I gotta set aside my inner battles, so I can mourn with my family. December still stings though. But I have to get up and redefine it. I walked on it again. Every single thing that reminds me of December, I made a new image of it. I changed the narrative, this time it was only me. And it's beautiful. I cried a lot. I still question why. I wonder why it had happened. But little by little, the stomp in my heart is getting lighter. It made me hug myself. It made me love every part of me that was mishandled, unvalued, and unseen. I survived it.

In March, I found a new universe. I got myself busy with my internship. I had little relapses from December. I was still in pain, but it was getting cheerfuller. I fell in love with desserts. I found another soulmate, at least for 400 hours. We vibe very well. He listened to my December almost every day, and he never got tired of it, 'cause he had his December too. We found a connection because of our December. We healed as we walked McArthur Highway. It's the wisdom of every resentment moment. He witnessed my happy painful moments. He helped me see through it by letting me talk about it endlessly. Thank you to my internship buddy, I made it to April. I survived March.

In April, I had the best vacation. It was the most fulfilling one since the dawn of my existence. I lived each day of it. I never thought I could see such an exhilarating breath of life in the North. The wind brushes off the remains of my December. It washed off the residue of pain in my body. It was the Renaissance. I loved the food, the people, and the twists and turns of this month. I let it all go. I loosened the gripping thought of as to why December had to happen. I survived it. I breathe in. I was present.

In May, I had my first genuine laughter. It was profound. I felt love. I felt belongingness. I was surrounded by pure people who saw through me. I had the best people in the world. It feels like exactly day one on earth. I only feel peace and happiness. In my mind, what I have at that moment is worth everything I lost in December. It was enough for me. This is enough for me. And yes I survived May, with people who love me very much & I felt it in every crack of bones and gaps in my heart. I swear it, it filled the spaces in my soul.

In June, my body was thunderstruck with academic & work commitments. I was sick most of the day. This was my weakest point of the year. But I got through it! It felt like a brand-new page for me. Zero thoughts remained with my December. I had something more important to deal with than what had happened. It is what it is as the saying goes. I survived it. I surpassed the difficult waves of June.

In July, my heart was thrilled. It was both my birth month & my graduation day! However, my graduation day just passed me by. It was happy & sad because right after I had to go straight to work. I never had the staring blankly at home phase. But I was so kilig because I got to have a picture & meet my little light bulb of the year — Steffi! She's one of the best. Then I dealt with my valid IDs then prepared for my birthday!!!! I thank God for Jonathan every day for making my birthday special. I swear to God, there was no residue of the past left in my heart. It was just plainly full of joy & peace. Nothing else matters but the purest of my days. I lived by July.

In August, pressure came to me. I had 2 weeks remaining to prepare for an examination that would determine my future. I studied diligently for the first two weeks of the month. I was anxious as to whether I'd get to see my name in the list of passers. I was scared because I could not cover all the topics covered. After the exam, I went to Intramuros to breathe. I rode a bamboo bike & went to the seaside amusement park. It was exhilarating. All the pressure is released. Then I went on my normal work routine. I got to bond with my new people from the office. I got to share my story & listen to their tales. I can never do this without these people. I sailed, in August.

In September, my days at work were numbered. I knew that when I accepted the job, it was just a good six-month contract to relieve my superior while she was on study leave. And I am extremely exhausted. I am craving rest. I badly want to hibernate for a month or two. And there’s this sadness when something is coming to an end. I cherish every moment I have left with my colleagues at work. I did my best to be present. Enjoy their company & appreciate and be grateful for God let me meet these wonderful people. I bid my farewell despite them wishing me to continue. The compensation can’t suffice me anymore, I have a degree now, and I believe I am worth more. I took the risk of taking a pause. I had my first photo booth too. With that, I closed in September. I slept when September ended.

In October, it felt like I was a lost soul. Wandering in nothingness. I had no idea as to where to go next. The next step was missing, it was blurry. So I took my time and loosened the grip for a moment. I watched a lot of series, learned to cook, and bothered my Mom everywhere she went at home. I spend my time breathing and stop thinking. But at the back of my mind, I am scared. I am scared for what’s next. I tried to look on different job searching platforms and it scared me more because I had no idea what the job descriptions were all about. I had doubts if I could do this nonetheless I am still a four-year-old adult. I gotta soft with myself when the world is rushing to harden me. I breathe even if I am scared. I work consistently, preparing for whatever is to come in my professional life. October passed me by just like that.

In November, the result that will determine the next step came out. It was nerve-wracking waiting for it. All of the sites were crashing. Then Ms. Camil messaged me. I passed. My heart is crying with so much delight. Now my path has clearer steps. Two weeks later, they offered to train me. Though I'm still taking my rest, I accepted the opportunity. My first at work was overwhelming. I cried myself walking home. I had my doubts. I am becoming unsure as to whether I can make it. It was hard. The job was tough. But I told myself, let’ give it time. Maybe it will get easy, ‘cause no one got it on the first try. No beginner is great on their first day. I am proud of how I showed up this month. Trying with uncertainty in my heart. I loved it. November made me proud.

In December, the universe gave me the final blow of its ginormous blessings this year. Every time I look back, I can't help but wonder how someone like me can receive so much. So much love, joy, and peace. Everything was good. Every twists and turns was made for me. I am a million miles far away last December. Every single thing that cracked my heart open in the most soul-crashing & heart-wrenching way, gave me the possibility to receive an overflowing love from myself and from the people I met this year. Every wound is a space for better things. Perhaps life unimaginably breaks us so we can unimaginably experience the beauty of life too. In a world that depletes us, it has its way of filling up those spaces with something better. Something you truly deserve and what you need exactly at the moment. In the end, everything that broke you will build you. This month it was light. I had zero worries. I felt sufficient. With that, I am forever grateful to you December. Let's meet again next year.

Love, Chacha

0 notes

drrutherford · 1 month ago

Text

"Sky puppies." He snorts. Only Nora would see the creepy winged creatures in such a loving light. "I think the better question is; who'd have the heart to stop you?" He tilts his head before their expressions mirror each other, the same answer seeming to settle mirthfully at the same time. "Right, Winthrop." The surgeon sighs, recalling one of the infamously cranky matrons on Nora's ward. "... More like lack of heart in her case, but point taken. We can still sneak some in on the 31st and take 'em down in the morning."

It'd be worth it to see her smile, he thinks. Most things were.

"How's your dad taking it all?... And the rest of the family?" From the disaster that was the Awards After-Party earlier in the year, in her own ancestral home, to the violence that had recently landed her brother in the hospital, he could only imagine the stress the family was under. And unlike his own, it wasn't something they had brought upon themselves. "In the battle between the logical and the physiological, the latter puts up a hell of a resistance." He agrees. "There's no sense in fighting it, Nor. Trauma isn't a rational thing, is it?..." It's a rhetorical question, to which they both know the answer.

It brings him some comfort to know that distraction is still working for her; that his presence, however meagre it seems to him, does something for her. But when she thanks him for being there, Gideon still shoots her a grimace, setting his glass aside long enough to reach over and tousle the hair against her scalp, sending strands in disarray. "Wouldn't wanna be anywhere else." Not if she needed him. Not if he could return even an ounce of the support she's given him ever since his divorce, when his world, as he knew it then, had spun desperately out of control.

He doesn't know what sort of man he'd be today if it wasn't for Nora's stalwart presence in some of those times, and he's relieved they'll never have to find out.

"I know I don't say it enough... You know my family's not the greatest when it comes to talking about our feelings." Truth be told, their families had that in common. One more reason she'd always been able to understand him so intuitively. "But you're important to me. You, Spencer, and everyone that matters to the both of you." He reaches for his glass again, to swallow some of the guilt that comes with the assertion, remembering the falling out with Spencer after he'd colluded with his family regarding Lara's survival two years ago. He bloody cares, but that doesn't always mean he's gotten it right.

Except, it isn't about him this time. Truth be told, he's relieved.

Gideon takes a swig of the alcohol. "You'll get through this, Nor... It'll never be fair that it's happened, never be right that your family's peace was threatened in this way — but you'll get through it." Like she'd gotten to the other side of so much worse in her life.

It was the first time she'd felt at ease in what seemed like an age.

"Okay, you being a morbid weirdo aside, the bat is adorable. They're basically just sky puppies," she assured, picking at what remained of the sweet potato fries. "Think they'd let me get a couple like it to hang up at the nurse's station for Hallowe'en?"

Probably not. Absolute fund suckers? Correct. Fun suckers, too.

When he not so casually slipped in the comment about her sleeping, she couldn't help but wonder if he'd offered the bottle of wine simultaneously for her to use as an out. For a moment, she definitely considered it.

There was little point in lying, though. Whilst the Berkeley family had become masters of a brave face in the wake of her brother's death—one could argue unhealthily so in Spencer's case—with him, it was different. Gideon had known her for so long, knew her so well, he could see right through even her best efforts. Sometimes she appreciated that someone cared enough to notice. Other times, it came with a burden of guilt; the Rutherford had his own life to deal with, and certainly didn't need to be sucked into her (admittedly rare) bouts of misfortune.

Nora handed the bottle back once her glass was full, and took a small sip before attempting a response that wasn't too self-pitying, but didn't seem like she was trying to hide the truth from him, either.

"I was staying at the estate with Dad until I had to come back to work. It wasn't so bad then, but it's different on my own." Nora picked at a bit of lint on her pyjama trousers as she contemplated a less lady-like sip this time around... "I know it wasn't meant for me, and rationally I have nothing to worry about, but try explaining that to my brain. What you should feel and what you do doesn't always add up, huh?" If that wasn't the damn truth. "Distractions help, though, and I suppose you're almost as good as the rubber bats. Almost. I know you're going to say I don't have to, but I also need you to know I don't take you for granted, so thank you for being here with me, okay?"

#September '24 #G x Nora #fun(d) suckers was Correct.

2 notes · View notes

deartouya · 3 years ago

Text

HOW THEY ACT WHEN LOVESICK — BNHA.

ღ. pairings: bakugou, deku, shouto, kiri, denki, dabi

ღ. warnings: gn!reader, mentions of food/eating, nothing else i don't think!! just a bunch of fluff. very short and left out some characters because i've been busy :/

— BAKUGOU:

katsuki is quiet in his adoration of you, doing simple little things that are only apparent to the people close to him. He respects your opinions- if you tell him something he listens. Whenever he’s coking he’ll “overmake” as an excuse to pawn the rest off to you. But he hovers around you until you take a bite and tell him you like it. he also always packs you a lunch whenever he makes his own, spending an embarrassingly long amount of time rearranging everything and making it look good. katsuki always makes sure he has time for at least one date, usually more like two or three, every week. spends his whole afternoon staring at the clock and sits so close your thighs brush when you sit at the diner booth.

— MIDORIYA:

izuku makes his love for you incredibly apparent. he's determined to ensure a good life/work divide and plans weeks or months in advance to ensure you can both have biweekly date nights. always brings you an overly complicated bouquet of your favourite flowers and remembers your favourite foods. he never forgets anything you tell him. worries so much, even if it's the most minuscule thing. if you get sick he's worrying over your bedside, calling his mom and staying on call while he cooks different soups or hand feeds you home remedies. compliments you all the time, on your hair or your outfit, every time he sees you. they're always so small and earnest but he means every single word.

— TODOROKI:

shouto is accidentally romantic. he puts thought into his actions, sure, but he doesn't try to be overly romantic or impress you. it just happens. he needs to be in your space, shoulder close enough to brush against your own or resting his chin on your shoulder when you're sitting next to him. he's incredibly aware of you. he always notices when you're hungry or cold, handing you your favourite kind of granola bar or draping his own worn-warmed coat over your shoulders. he just always notices you. he takes care of you too, or at least to the best of his ability. he tends to all of your wounds, after a distraught once over even if it's a scraped knee, and opens every door for you. he can't cook but he'll always bring something from fuyumi whenever he visits.

— KIRISHIMA:

eijirou is such a innately kind and loving person and that obviously bleeds into his feelings for you. you're always his top priority and he's always willing to set stuff aside for you, dropping anything he needs to. he's domestically protective, he wants you to be safe and taken care of- even if you take care of yourself. he insists on carrying your groceries, still leaving a hand to hold yours, and preens under your praise afterwards. he loves doing little domestic things with you too, makes everything feel more real. he helps you cook dinner every night, chopping the vegetables and helping you with anything he can.

— KAMINARI:

denki is the most vocal is his admiration with you. he never shies away from an opportunity to boast about your relationship bragging about how cool his partner is and how accomplished his partner has been. he's just so proud of you and your relationship. he's also really clingy, taking any and every opportunity to spend time with you, even if its just sitting and watching you study for a couple hours. he's very complimentary, making sure he tells you how pretty he think you are or how much he loves you at least twice a day. it'd be annoying if he wasn't so genuine and earnest. he just thinks you're amazing.

— DABI:

touya refuses to show how much he loves you, even if he fails and makes it incredibly apparent. he does such little innocuous things that show just how much he cares about you. he remembers everything you say to him, even in passing, and looks after you quietly. he takes up the chores you don't like to do or the ones that slip from your mind and brings home your favourite takeout when you've had a bad day. he knows your number by heart so no matter where he is he can always check up on you, and even if he claims that he won't- he always does. on date nights he always makes sure to pick one of your favourite movies on his nights to choose and scoffs when you accuse him of it.

‧₊˚✩ taglist + masterlist ✩˚₊‧

🏷: @izukus-gf , @hirugummies , @uwuthatshit , @mxgenderbender , @akaakeijii , @violetdahlias , @myaaki , @dinodumbass , @rae-tenya , @sugarmaplewings-fics , @tipsyangels , @dukina ,

3K notes · View notes

batwritings · 4 years ago

Note

Okay okay, hear me out, technoblade nsfw, the voices are getting a bit to rowdy and it's giving him a head ache and the reader sees this and decides that the best course of action is to get his attention and flash him

The voices would all go "BOOBS" and it'd get techno thinking about something else ;)

Also tour writing is really good, if I could can I be 🦊 anon?

Me too voices, me too. Enjoy~!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Technoblade sighed for what had to have been the eighth time that night at least, setting his book aside. The voices would NOT leave him alone and it was wearing on him. “I might call it an early night darlin’,” he says, holding his head.

You shot him a concerned look as you set your own book down. “The voices getting to you?” you asked softly. Only a select few knew about the voices in Techno’s head and while he wasn’t shy about it, bringing them up never helped when they were giving him a hard time.

“Just a bit,” he admitted, offering a small smile as consolidation. “I’ll be fine.”

An idea popped into your head as he stood and stretched, spine popping multiple times. “Maybe I can help?” His ruby red orbs were on you then, curiosity dancing through them. With a soft chuckle, you exposed your breasts to him, not at all shy. Being that you weren’t wearing a bra (honestly ladies who wears a bra when they’re at home with nothing to do and nowhere to go?) your soft flesh was completely on display for him.

A blush ran across his cheeks at the sight and the sound of the voices in his mind. “BOOBS, BOOBS, BOOBS, what the fuck?, BOOBS,” repeated in his mind over and over. Yet as Techno started to get hard beneath his pants, only one thought went through his mind. “Can I fuck your tits darlin’?”

You chuckled at the bluntness of his words. “Sure thing sweets,” you smirk, fully pulling your shirt off. You watch him slide his growing length out form under his pants, stopping just to admire you for a moment while he stroked. Gods he was so lucky, having such a pretty girlfriend.

At full hardness does he take his length and sit back down. You kneel before him, in between his spread legs and let his cock slip between your breasts. A soft pleasured sigh resounds in the room, and you smile knowing how much your boyfriend must love this. You move slow at first, squeezing your tits around his member, watching his reactions for where he liked it most.

You start a steady pace then, him letting you do the work as this got the voices to quiet. The only thoughts in his head were his own, mind growing fuzzy due to your actions. “You like this Tech?” you ask quietly, looking at the dazed expression he had.

“Love it,” he rumbles, hips already starting to stutter. He must have needed this so bad. “Don’t stop, please.” It almost sounds like a whine for you, info that you file away for later.

It doesn’t take much more to have Technoblade cumming across your chest, some falling between the barely there crevice you’ve created. He groans as he watches you clean yourself up, eyes unable to tear away from the scene before him. After you have yourself cleaned of his cum, you stand, offering him a hand as well.

It takes him a moment, but he finally does take your head. You guide him up to bed where you settle with him a moment, not fully willing to sleep. “How’s your head hon?” you ask, looking down at him from where his head is rested on your chest.

The piglin hybrid sighs, pulling you closer. “Much better.”

#bat writes #anon reqs #🦊 anon #technoblade smut #mcyt x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt smut

2K notes · View notes

beoneofus · 3 years ago

Text

𝖉wayne's 𝖉ate 𝖍eadcanons

a/n: gender neutral <3, requested by @oceansrose2002 because their a slut for m'boy. I don't know specifically what they were looking for, but I did what I thought would make sense.. which is basically just the whole experience. let me know how it is :).

4.29.22

first date experience - I stated on a different headcanon about how dwayne would usually be the kind of guy to be into more romantic, yet quiet themed dates; also ones that most humans do. his options are always open, but these seemed, in my opinion, the type of set ups he'd prefer. drive in movies, a special made dinner date in a secluded wooded area, a picnic in a meadow, etc. with a first date, that's most likely how it'd be - of course though, they can vary as time goes on and if he sees the relationship is getting serious enough/more comfortable to explore more things.

first and foremost, I don't think this vampire would ask someone out a date for a while. not wait months on end, that'd be more david's thing, but I do think he'd wait a few weeks; study you from a distance to possibly take in a few of your interests, to note some of your likes and dislikes. he'd want to ask you himself, as well, but a little spying never hurt anybody. after maybe three, four weeks, I do indeed think dwayne would push the waiting aside and straight up ask you. even though he's more off kept than the others', he was just as bold; if not more.

on a first date, I see dwayne taking his partner, or the person he's currently interested in, to the drive in movies. it's a classic way to get to know each other, jokes and laughs can be shared, he can spot what exactly would disinterest you in the movie you're watching, and he can even put in mind if horror movies aren't your forte ( if that's the genre you guys are watching ). most likely, he'd take in your beauty throughout the movie, but that's only because he likes to be sly; loves when you'd look over and catch him staring, that way he can give you an innocent grin while you either smile back, shyly look away, or maybe even both. you're reaction alone is interesting.

probably would ask questions during certain scenes. If it's comedy based and you laugh at a joke, he'd probably question what you found funny; if no answer can really explain it, that's fine, but he'd take mental notes if possible, on how to entertain you in the future. if it's a scary film, that can go with two different ways - asking why a certain thing scared you, if anything does, or asking what exactly interested you in the killing scene that you take interest in. I can see him even getting into a discussion of it too, after the movie, if you're into that. ps; he wouldn't be annoying about the questioning, simply curious. if you asked him to stop, he would.

I can see the date ending off with you both discussing certain parts of the film. You would mainly talk about what the segments you really enjoyed, while he'd listen; occasionally tossing his input in on those scenes, while stating which cuts he liked himself. he'd drop you off at home in the end, and plant a kiss onto your cheek, before shooting you a famous breath-taking grin and speeding off.

more comfortable dates - dwayne would let you, later on, throw your thoughts into the mix of which dates you preferred. he'd also ask if a certain setting or place he picked, or even event, was okay; your opinion mattered to him. if you didn't agree on some ideas, that's okay; depending on the context though, he'd either suggest something else or convince you to at least try a new thing.

the cheesy, classic outings would continue for some time. eventually, after you reassuring him over and over you'd be okay, dwayne would take your dates' to more extreme levels. once, when paul was explaining a date he took a girl on, it really peaked your interest - street racing. you had never done anything like that before, so you voiced to brunette that you wanted to try something like so. after some hesitation, he said fine, but don't complain if anything goes wrong. his words, too.

you end up going zip lining in the woods, some place far off. it was crazy, very thrilling, and completely new to you.. but it was in fact a rush. you never thought feeling the wind whip through your hair or straining your arm and/or shoulder muscles could feel so good, but it did! your excited screaming and playful kicking at dwayne showed him that.

he took a mental image on how your face broke into the widest grin he's ever seen, and how your eyes were lit joyfully. truly, even if it hadn't been too long, dwayne never had seen you so happy. he loved it, and bookmarked the experience into the back of his mind. he'd definitely take you on more dates like that if he got to see you that excited.

after every date, if not while on it, he'd definitely get you both food. mainly for your benefit though, because he knows how cranky humans can get without food - especially foodie's. it could be your size of choice, or choice of meal too. he's okay with whatever, as long as you don't want the entire menu. you'd just be another paul. it wouldn't be a bad thing, but he would have no idea what to do if you pull stunts like his coven brother did.

I can see him getting you gifts on certain dated months, whether it be big or small. he's never had a serious relationship, or romantic encounter, so as the time goes on he's wanting to spoil you more and more. he couldn't, though; he knew it'd be too much. plus, you'd probably lecture him, just because you're so selfless ( if you aren't.. oh well lmao ). every three months, however, seems like the right time for him, so expect presents - the majority being hand crafted items.

overall, i think dates with dwayne would be really enjoyable! there could be much more things to say, and stuff he'd do, but I'll leave that up to everyone's imagination <3.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #dwayne the lost boys #dwayne tlb #dwayne tlb headcanons #dwayne's headcanons #dwayne's date headcanons #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys headcanon

59 notes · View notes

one-sad-human · 3 years ago

Text

•Worth It• Duff Mckagan

Pairing: Velvet Revolver era! Duff Mckagan x Younger! Reader

Requested? Nope!

Theme: Little bit of everything/???

Warnings: Language, panic attacks, anxiety references, drug references

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Fic 2 of 2! This is the longest fic yet! Took a different approach to writing this one, hopefully it payed off. Let me know if you guys liked it or if I wasted my time with this one lol.

You had met Duff in a coffee shop in LA. It was crowded and you were lucky enough to snag a chair before the lunch rush. Duff wasn't, and asked you if he could sit at your table.

You grew up with Guns n Roses, bought his solo album the day it came out when you were just 15, and now listened to Velvet Revolver faithfully. To see your idol, your celebrity crush stand right in front of you holding a cup of coffee and a scone sent you for a loop.

"Of course," you had said, starry eyed. You were only hoping he was as kind as the interviews made him out to be. Maybe have a conversation with you and be polite for a while before leaving and never seeing each you again. That would be good enough.

It didn't end with a coffee, it had just begun. He asked for your number, and you stared at him for a moment thinking you had imagined it. That was until he tilted his head a little and looked at you with a nervous expression. He backtracked and you immediately stopped him.

"No! I mean— yes! Yes, you can absolutely have my number." You scrambled for a pen and paper and ended up scratching your number on a receipt from the record store. You shook so hard you could barely get the numbers down.

Out of all the record store receipts you've stuffed into your bag, the one you gave Duff Mckagan had to be the one for when you bought Velvet Revolver's 'Contraband.' He didn't say anything, just smiled and promised to call.

You honestly didn't think he would've. You played it off as just him trying to be nice. It didn't stop you from answering every call you got for the next three days, however, even if you recognized the number as the tax collector you'd normally never answer.

But then he called.

"I tried calling sooner, but I kept calling the wrong number. You don't have the most eligible handwriting," he had told you. You laughed but really, you were in shock.

You set up a date at the fancy restaurant downtown that always intimidated you. You didn't say anything though, even though you knew you wouldn't want any of the overpriced food and you'd end up eating something you couldn't pronounce and was two portions too small. Maybe even hit up a fast food joint afterwards.

When the day finally came, you couldn't even figure out what to wear. You couldn't tell if you looked underdressed or like you were trying too hard. Did the clothes even fit the right way? What would Duff think? Would he even care?

All questions were answered when you left your house. Duff was leaning against his slick car parked in your driveway, a button up that was barely buttoned and dress pants with boots. He stared at you and you wanted a hole in the ground to shallow you up until he smiles.

"You look gorgeous," he said. You blushed and grinned, thanking him before saying that he looked great too. He drove you to the restaurant and on the way, you talked about music.

You shared some of your favorites, he adored how well rounded you were. You liked pretty much everything from punk rock to the mellowest of mellow. Duff mentioned some of his favorites, some you made sure to remember the names of so you can check them out.

When the ride was over and you finally got to the restaurant, your previous fears came back. Duff reassured you looked better than 90% of the people there and you knew it wasn't true but it made you feel better anyway.

Your eyes widened to the size of saucers when you saw the prices of the food. You knew it'd be pricey but you thought there'd be more options that stayed within two digit numbers.

Duff saw your panicked expression and said not to worry, he'd pay. It didn't settle your nerves enough and when the waiter came, you ordered the cheapest and simplest thing you could find.

"Chicken noodle soup?" He teased. You shyly looked down and shrugged. "This isn't your scene, is it?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Want me to be completely honest with you?" You nodded. "It's not mine either."

That's all it took for you and Duff to scramble sheepishly out of the restaurant. You both shared a laugh in the car and went to Burger King. It was much more your speed and, as you'd find out that night, Duff's too. You suppose all the money he's had since such a young age didn't completely change his ways. He was like a kid trapped in a 40 year old man's body.

You'd thought at first the age gap would feel strange, after all, you were 15 years younger than him. But after that night, it was barely noticeable. Funny looks from strangers every once in a while was nothing.

By the second date, Duff was already aware fancy spots weren't your forte. He told you it was a surprise and to wear something cozy, as LA nights got chilly.

He packed a picnic basket and drove you out to the most beautiful flower field you had ever seen at sunset. It was secluded and high up, giving a perfect view of the city skyline. After gawking and taking in the sights for a few moments, you regained your ability to speak.

"It's gorgeous. Pretty far from the city, did you take me here to kill me?" You joked. He laughed and rolled his eyes. His lighthearted laugh sent sparks straight to your heart, and you decided that it was your favorite sound.

You unfolded the blanket Duff brought and you both sat down. You ate the sandwiches and sliced fruit Duff packed and talked. You talked about everything, from your family to fears and insecurities.

You told him how you suffer from nightmares. Flashbacks from your broken childhood coming back to bite you in your sleep. Duff shared how he's suffered from panic attacks since he was a teenager. You felt you knew each other for years.

Neither of you felt weird for sharing and neither made the other insecure. You were completely open and honest with each other. It was strange, you've never connected to quickly and effortlessly with someone before. Sure, you've had men in your life, but never had you clicked with someone so fast, never had you fit with someone so perfectly.

Hours passed and it felt like minutes. Only did you realize how late and how exhausted you were when you saw most of the city buildings light have gone off for the night. The city that didn't sleep was dark.

"I should get you home," Duff said to you.

"Will you stay the night?" You felt a little silly for asking. Were things going too fast? Would he even want to stay over?

He agreed, and that's how your first night together went. You both stayed up even later and had more lighthearted conversations, unlike the ones that partook at the field. Like how one of Duff's first jobs was at a bakery and could bake a mean cake and how you can't cook to save your life.

You ended up waking up without remembering falling asleep. You're head was placed comfortably on Duff's lap while his head was lolled back against the couch cushion. He looked so serene and peaceful you couldn't help but smile at the sight.

You made toast and somewhat successfully cooked some eggs and bacon. It might have been the first breakfast in years that didn't end with the smoke alarm going off.

Duff eventually wandered into the kitchen and you both ate. By the time he left, another date was already set up. He was like a drug an you were already hooked.

Months later and the addiction still wasn't kicked. You didn't want to, and Duff didn't seem to want you to quit either. You both soaked each other up like the sun on a warm day.

You had almost weekly dates and you stayed over each other's houses almost every other day. Duff did have his kids some days, though, so some days dates were cut short or Grace and Mae slept over his house and you wouldn't see each other.

You were always understanding, his kids came first and you'd never blame or get upset about it. It's something Duff admires about you, your never ending understanding and empathy for him.

One of those days where Duff stayed over at your house started normal. He cooked dinner and you washed the dishes, and then you put on an old Ramones concert you had on DVD.

You were laying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair when all of a sudden, he tensed up. He quickly stood and excused himself to the bathroom. You frowned but before you could think much of it, you heard a loud bang and something clatter to the ground.

You jumped up and rushed to the bathroom. You swung open the door because you were perfectly aware the lock hasn't worked since you moved in.

Duff was sitting on the floor, a pill bottle laying on its side not far from him. You quickly spot the name of the medication and identified it as your anti-anxiety pills. You shoved them aside and sat next to Duff.

He was sweating bullets and his skin felt cold and clammy, his breaths were labored and heartbeat was loud and pounding erratically. You coax him gently to take deep breaths, holding onto his hand tightly and talking quietly.

"I'm sorry, they come on randomly sometimes," he apologized after he'd called down, but you quickly shushed him. You reminded him of just how many nightmares he'd comforted you for and he stops feeling so bad about it.

It was always a true partnership with Duff. Never had you felt you gave or took too much, it was always equal. Always a two way street, with everything.

That wasn't the last panic attack you had to help him come down from. Later down the line you've gotten better at calming him down and learning his triggers, even though sometimes they really do come on suddenly without reason.

A year into the relationship was when you met Grace and Mae. They were young and didn't completely understand why their parents weren't together anymore, so it took them a while to warm up to you. Luckily, they eventually came around.

Duff and Susan met up regularly to discuss their kids and co-parent properly. And while you had all the reason to be jealous of your boyfriend with his ex wife, you never did. You had complete confidence in him, he was honest and loyal and you doubted he'd ever hurt you purposely.

That's why it destroyed you when he left you. Tears were shed from both parties as he gave his reasons for breaking up with you. His insecurities he tried his best to bury had come to light and nothing could change his mind.

You thought you were completely honest with each other, but you suppose his doubt in his relationship with you was the one thing he kept secret. He had somehow convinced himself you'd be better without him, between the constant touring and the baggage that came with him and his kids, he finally buckled under the weight and stress.

You had tried to convince him that he was worth it, but if Duff is one thing it's stubborn. The best relationship you'd ever have and the best year of your life went down the drain within the matter of one conversation.

You were down in the dumps for days. You barely left your bed and didn't ever leave your house. You were in a depression and couldn't get out. A few of your friends eventually found out what had happened and broke into your house and shoved you into the shower before taking you to your favorite Chinese restaurant.

You felt like a disaster. Your hair was ratted despite the shower and you refused to put real clothes on, instead wearing sweatpants and a shirt Duff had left behind. You were a mess.

The hole in the wall restaurant was never busy but always had the best food. You were almost happy your friends dragged you out of your home until you saw Duff sitting at a table, eating egg rolls and lo mein.

You've came here together all the time. The high sodium in the food always made him sick to his stomach and you'd always end up giving him nausea remedies and tea. He never changed his order though.

You locked eyes with him for a while. Dark bags were under his eyes and he looked more pale than usual. He looked as terrible as you felt. You weren't sure if you were spitefully glad he felt awful or if the despair on his face just made your heart break further.

When you couldn't take his intense jade stare anymore, you looked up at the menu. The next time you looked back he was gone, you weren't sure if he was really there at all or if you were finally losing your mind for good.

Another week crawled by. You got better enough to continue working. You had to pick up extra time for calling out for a few days after the breakup. You wouldn't say things were going well, but you weren't crying in bed every day all day anymore.

You had constant dreams about him. Some were nice, ones where he didn't leave and you were together, holding each other tightly. Most were nightmares, flashbacks of when he left. You didn't have him to comfort you anymore when you woke up soaked in sweat and tears, and that might've been the worst.

Another week went by, and you were starting to get back into the swing of things. You still thought about him, even silly little things reminded you of him. Like when you would catch a sniff of freshly baked sweets like he'd bake you or certain songs playing on the radio. It also didn't help that you ran into people wearing Guns n Roses shirts on the daily.

You also refused to get rid of anything he'd left behind. Tee shirts, guitar picks he left from when he'd play for you, or CDs from bands he introduced you to. Reminders of what you lost were scattered around your home but you couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it.

Suddenly, it's been a month. You weren't over him, but you had a feeling you'd never be completely. He was something special, you can't forget things as special as your relationship with Duff.

His items still weren't thrown out or returned, instead all packed in a box sitting in your closet. But you'd be lying if you said you would never reach into the box to grab a shirt to sleep in or a CD to listen to when you needed a reminder of the good times. You were making progress though.

You decided to leave your house one evening. You were feeling especially terrible and wanted to take a walk to clear your head. You went to the coffee shop you had first met Duff in. Maybe it was a mistake to go and get a flood of memories but you couldn't stop yourself.

You sat in a seat near the window and people watched, taking occasional sips of your drink. It was quiet except from the talk of the workers and the hum of the overhead speakers.

There was a sudden squeak of a chair of hardwood floors and it broke you out of your daze. You snapped your gaze up to meet the very familiar green eyes you've been trying to forget.

"Can we talk?" He asked, and you couldn't say 'no.' Duff sat across from you and started off by apologizing.

He said he wanted to talk to you sooner, but was too afraid you wouldn't want anything to do with him. You rolled your eyes at that, if only he knew just how much you missed him.

He then started from the beginning and explained why he made the decision to leave you. As it turns out, it was mostly because of stress. His bandmate Scott was having problems with drugs and the flashbacks from his GnR days frightened him. He was worried he would end up relapsing and he didn't want to drag you down with him.

Combine that with all the troubles that came with dating a single father, and he couldn't take it anymore. He felt too guilty.

It all seemed like ridiculous reasons to you. Even if he had made the mistake of falling off the wagon, you still would've stuck with him. And you didn't mind his kids at all, after nearly a year of knowing them and you were very close to them.

"I love you, Duff. I wouldn't have left you over that, I'd help you through anything. And I love Grace and Mae, too," you told him.

"I know, but I didn't want you to have to deal with all that baggage." You frowned at that. You reached your hand across the table and grasped his, squeezing it tenderly.

"You're worth it."

After that day, you and Duff started seeing each other again. It wasn't the same as before, but maybe even better.

You were more transparent with each other. If one had a worry or problem, you'd go to the other. You talked everything through with him and he did the same. Even if it seemed insignificant, talking everything through never failed to make it better.

You were happier and healthier than ever before. Sure, there were a roadblock or two, but they only made the relationship even stronger, and you wouldn't have changed a thing about it.

#classic rock imagine #guns n’ roses #guns n’ roses x reader #guns n’ roses imagine #80s #duff mckagan fluff #duff mckagan x reader #duff mckagan #duff mckagan imagine

214 notes · View notes

aetheternity · 3 years ago

Text

Adventures in the Kawata twins

Disclaimer: This takes place during the present when they're all adults. This isn't an x reader persay but reader is mentioned.

Synopsis: Takemichi & Chifuyu are stuck taking care of the drunk Kawata twins. It can't be that hard they'd assumed. Though they fail to understand that the twins are dumped on them for good reason.

☆☆

"Takemichi, you plan on being a designated driver?" Draken asks as Takemichi plops into the seat next to him at their shared table.

"Yeah, I don't feel like drinking tonight." He explained with a shrug.

"Great!" Mikey exclaimed allowing his straw to slip back into the something red he'd been sucking down. "Then you can take care of the Kawata brothers." He pointed to the end of the bar where both brothers sat. Smiley swiveling back in forth in his chair while Angry just glared at all the people. Their eyes lazily hovering over the thick crowd of people.

"They're barely sipping their drinks." Takemichi scoffed

Draken snorted with a deep laugh, "For now." Though he stopped talking when Mikey elbowed him.

"Yeah ok I'll take them home later." Takemichi replied.

"Not just take them home." Mikey grunted, poking his finger out at Takemichi. "You gotta watch them!" He gestured first to Takemichi then back to the two boys at the bar.

"Ok ok sure."

How bad could they possibly get after all? They were never apart as far as Takemichi could see. Even now they were calmly sipping their drinks, Angry's feet swaying back and forth against the side of the bar stool, his face full of frustration as he played with the straw between his lips. Meanwhile Smiley began talking about something random that barely caught his brother's attention his warm smile stretched tightly against his face.

They were calm. This was gonna be fine....

An hour later~

"Where'd they go!!" Takemichi clung to Chifuyu's shoulders like they were his life support shaking the poor man like a doll.

"Well where's the last place you had them?!" Chifuyu screamed back, head darting up over the crowd trying to locate at least one of the missing twins.

"They're not lost remotes!!" Takemichi grunted

A sudden burst of clapping across the bar made Takemichi and Chifuyu whip around. A rhythm slowly forming as drunk onlookers turned to face the same direction. Suddenly a big blue tuff peaked its way over the crowd followed by a fist raising in the air and Angry's full face coming into view.

"Shit." Chifuyu cursed

Takemichi lead the rush through the crowd, Chifuyu right behind him as the two of them made their way closer to one of the rickety tables near the back corner of the bar where Angry was now pointing out into the crowd. A smile almost as big as his brother's plastered onto his face. But it had a much gentler feel to it, almost as if he did it everyday.

"You! You got what I need! Everybody!" Angry belted as he sung into an invisible mic. "But you say he's just a friend!! Now the ladies!"

"And you say he's just a friend!" Reciprocated the crowd.

"Oh God who's he singing about? Name?" Chifuyu scoffed as he held onto Takemichi's hoodie for fear of getting swept away in the crowd.

"Wait? Angry likes, Name?!"

"You must be the most oblivious person in the world to not have noticed. Even I noticed!" Chifuyu yelled over the crowd.

Takemichi sighed reaching out for the wobbly table working to keep it steady as Chifuyu went around the other side tugging at Angry's pant leg.

"And you say he's just a friend, oh baby, you-" Angry continued until Chifuyu finally managed to catch his attention. "Takemichi! Chifuyu! Hi!" He bounced on the table almost causing it to tip.

"Angry come on, let's go find your brother!"

"Ooo yeah!" He giggled like a child.

"Holy shit I didn't even know he was capable of laughing, let alone smiling." Chifuyu blinked shaking his head.

"Catch me ok!" Angry beamed

"Wait Angry!-"

Takemichi's legs folded beneath him as Angry laid on top of him. Surprisingly he wasn't that heavy, though his body weight came out of nowhere and all at once. It left Takemichi with zero breath in his lungs as an uncharacteristic Angry laid on top of him, Chifuyu's smug grin just above him.

"Thanks for the support!" Takemichi groaned in pain. With both hands Chifuyu pulled Takemichi up, helping him support Angry's weight as he wrapped the younger twins legs around his waist.

"Why-" Chifuyu gestured to the current display.

"It'll just be easier."

Angry clung to Takemichi's hoodie like a curious toddler, sticking his fingers beneath the back to play with the tag.

"Come on, we're gonna go find your brother." Takemichi soothingly rubbed Angry's back before turning to Chifuyu.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Chifuyu asked

The sound of glass shattering a short distance away and the sounds of loud screams and grunts called the attention of almost everyone in the bar. Aside from those too busy making out or puking to see.

"I'd say follow the screaming."

They'd barely arrived on the scene but the crunches of glass underneath their shoes spoke volumes. Smiley's fists repeatedly slamming into a now completely shattered glass mirror. Blood seeping through his damaged knuckles like a punctured water bottle.

Chifuyu immediately slipped his arms under Smiley's armpits. Shaken a bit by the stoned face that stared down at the shattered mirror beneath them.

"Come on Angry we gotta go!"

"That's Smiley! This is Angry!" Takemichi yelped, shifting a distracted Angry around to look at Chifuyu.

"At this point can you blame me?! It's like we fell into an alternate dimension." Chifuyu groaned "Wait is that possible right now?"

"I don't think so!"

"Get off! This cunt is asking for it!" Smiley reached for the only part of the mirror still even slightly assembled. But before he could punch it in Chifuyu slipped an arm around his waist.

"Let's just get out of here before the cops show up!"

Even in disarray Takemichi was pleased at how much easier it had been getting the twins out of the bar then it had been finding them.

"You can still drive a bike right?" Takemichi asked as he reached into Angry's pocket for his keys. He placed a disoriented Angry on the back, trying to push his leg over the side.

"God, your knuckles are wrecked!" Chifuyu gasped astonished. Some of the glass had chipped off while some stayed wedged inside his closed fist.

"It's fine we can remove it when we get them home."

"Hey do you think Name likes that song?" Angry nodded his head, snapping his fingers to an imaginary beat. "I like the bartender, yeah if you're looking for me I'm at the bar with her!" He sung

"I'm sure it'd be just as uncomfortable for Name as it currently is for us." Chifuyu sighed "Come on get on back." He explained to Smiley.

"Fuck you."

Angry fidgeted around behind Takemichi only holding onto his waist when Takemichi physically slid his hands there. His smile deepening as he grinned along to the music he hadn't stopped singing.

After a bit more pleading Smiley plopped onto the back with his arms crossed over his chest. "Ok, now all we need to do is get them home right?" Chifuyu called over the roar of the engine and the sound of Angry still harmonizing with inaudible music.

"Actually.. I told Mikey I'd look after them for the night.."

"I hate you."

"Chifuyu, please! I can't do this without you! Once we put them to bed the rest should be easy right?"

They pulled up to a red light and for the first time tonight Takemichi could hear himself think. Yeah ok, the rest of the night really shouldn't be too difficult. The hard part was getting them out of the bar right?

"Fuck are you looking at shit stain?!" Smiley screamed to a man casually minding his business across the street.

"Angry!" Takemichi screeched

"See you did it too!" Chifuyu pointed

"Shit, I mean-"

"Huh?!" The man called turning to make eye contact with the four people in front of him.

"Can't this light change any fucking faster?!" Chifuyu yelled

"You wanna go bitch!" Smiley called

~~~~

"Smiley, please shut up!" Chifuyu was practically withering. Smiley nearly left off the bike when the man came charging forward.

In that split second the light turned green and Chifuyu sped off with Takemichi trailing just behind. A flood of nervous tears beginning to stain his face.

"You know Mikey set you up right?" Chifuyu grunted as he hauled an agitated Smiley into his and his brother's shared flat.

"I figured after looking up to see them both gone." Takemichi gasped and heaved, shutting the door behind him and Angry.

"I'm making ramen." Smiley announced, staggering off to the living room.

"No no no what you need to do is lay down. This night has been a nightmare." Chifuyu said

"You wanna go fucker." Smiley spat

"Smiley please-" Takemichi tried

"Takemichi, Michi! Look look at my Tiktok dance! You gotta watch!" Angry tugged on Takemichi's jacket sleeve with kid like hops trying to get his attention.

"Just.. I can't right now please we-"

"Why?!" Angry's outburst immediately brought quiet to the flat, the beginnings of tears brimming in the corners of his eyes.

"Shit, don't let him cry!" Chifuyu exclaimed

"Ok! Ok do the dance!"

Angry straightened, smile reappearing fully. He patted the tops of his chest, shaking his hips to nonexistent music. "You need a woman's touch in your place, just protect her and keep her safe." His arm juts out to the words he's singing, "Baby, worship my hips in ways, so feminine with grace."

Takemichi and Chifuyu blink, mouths hung in a small 'O' as they watched the awkward drunk assembly of movements matching terribly with the surprisingly on key singing. Without warning Angry clutched his knees, bile spilling from his body like a sprinkler system.

"You're in charge of Angry then." Chifuyu patted Takemichi's back as Angry continued to unleash on the once clean living room floor. Coughs escaping his drunken body. "I'll take care of.. ah shit! Where'd he go now?!"

"Maybe that's enough dancing for one night." Tiptoeing around the undigested waste Takemichi reached for Angry's arm. "Want some water?" He asked pulling a staggering Angry into the kitchen.

"There's-" Takemichi managed to get him there just in time. Angry's fingers clutching the edges of the kitchen sink as he leaned forward emptying everything in his stomach down the drain with a loud heave.

"Take your time it'll be-"

"Smiley no!" Chifuyu's voice rang across the flat. As well as the sound of multiple fragile items breaking.

What would soon follow in the next minute and a half were, a hard thud, harsh obscenities spewed one after another, and more things breaking only a couple doors away from where Takemichi was massaging Angry's head.

"Chifuyu, what's going on?!"

Chifuyu clattered out of the bathroom stumbling back and forth between both feet. "He punched me in the jaw." His thumb grazed over his jaw inspecting his hands for any sign of blood. "Do the twins have duct tape in here?"

Takemichi grabbed a paper towel dampening it before patting the sides of Angry's lips and the base of his chin where a small amount of his puke was currently leaking down.

"What do you need duct tape for?"

"Don't worry about that."

Chifuyu disappeared with the tape too quickly for further questions to be asked. Angry's smile was barely visible at this point the alcohol potentially flooding out of his system.

"Will you wash my hair Michi?" Angry pleaded with a tiny whimper.

"You should probably rest." Takemichi replied, he turned to fill a glass of water in the sink before handing it to Angry.

"Can I rest in the bathtub?"

"Why're you so violent when you drink?!" Chifuyu yelled

"Here just go to the couch!" Takemichi gestured, pushing a confused Angry back into the living room before bolting down the hall.

"What the- omg!"

"Get me some rope or some shit!" Chifuyu grunted, pulling both of Smiley's hands together.

Smiley laid beneath Chifuyu on his stomach duct tape wrapped around his mouth. His legs kicking around aimlessly as muffled noises slipped from his mouth. The shower curtain covered in blood and laid in a ball on the floor and the pole now bent in the bathtub. The window in the corner smashed in from the inside, pieces of glass littering the white tile.

I'm pretty sure this isn't what Mikey meant when he said take care of the Kawata twins!"

"Well he won't stop struggling! What else am I supposed to do?" Chifuyu gripped the duct tape, pulling it around Smiley's balled fists before ripping it with his teeth.

The sound of glass shattering in the living room brought Takemichi back down to reality. "Ok fine, just don't hurt him and clean his wounds!"

Takemichi rushed back into the living room tripping over his own two feet. His thoughts immediately scattering as he looked over the new situation. Angry's once full cup of water mixed with his vomit on the floor as the glass was now shattered in the growing mess.

"I want water.." Angry said, reaching out to Takemichi.

"Lay still on the couch and I'll bring you a new cup." He sighed

Takemichi dug around for a few seconds in the cupboard grabbing a new glass from the middle shelf. He hadn't noticed before but the Kawata twins had a gorgeous flat. That was slightly more wrecked right now. But it was clean and gorgeous almost to the point where it looked brand new.

He reached for the faucet, positioning it to fill the glass with hot water before turning it upside down to empty the glass. The water splashed against his disheveled black hoodie dampening it a little more than the sweat of this night already had. When he refilled the glass it was with cold water turning the sink top off and walking back over to Angry's kid like wonder stare on the edge of the couch.

"This house has big ceilings." Angry pointed, mouth agape.

"Yup, here." Takemichi transferred the water to Angry's open hands. He got down on one knee untying Angry's shoelaces, slipping his shoes off his feet before placing them next to the head of the couch.

"Wish I lived here." Angry nodded softly, kicking his socked feet as he sipped the cool water in the glass that had been placed in his hands.

"Lay back ok."

A deep "oof" caught Takemichi's attention as he looked to a staggering Chifuyu, pulling Smiley along like a police officer arresting a perp.

"Ok, from this point on I need to be paid." He grunted

"What happened to your face?" Takemichi gestured to the gushing bruise on Chifuyu's forehead. Blood beginning to leak down the sides of his face.

"What do you think happened? He fucking headbutted me." Chifuyu rubbed the blemish with one hand.

For the first time all night Smiley finally tapped out. Collapsing onto the floor in a small ball. One shoe kicked off God knows when. Hair a disorganized tumbleweed atop his head.

"What do you think Name would think of this song?" Angry bounced in his seat spilling water into his lap.

"Oh God please no more singing!" Chifuyu huffed in exasperation.

Takemichi can already see the crease of Angry's eyebrows and the quiver of his bottom lip. "What he means is we'll hear it tomorrow because you need sleep."

A folded blanket laid on the top of the couch and Takemichi reached for it. He shook it out before placing it over Angry's descending shoulders. Slowly the comfort of falling asleep began to rise on Angry's face. Eyelids heavy and face falling into warm ease.

"You promise?" He questioned as he laid his head on the arm rest.

"Yes bright and early tomorrow."

"Night." He whispered and less than a minute later he was fast asleep just like his brother.

For the next couple minutes Takemichi worked to clean the blood off Chifuyu's face, arms and a couple other places.

"Geez he did a number on you."

"On me, on the bathroom, on that mirror in the bar." Chifuyu listed off as Takemichi walked back to the living room leaving him to pat his bruise.

"But you did do a great job bandaging his hands."

"Uh huh."

Takemichi reached up to his face squeezing the bridge of his nose and the lids of his eyes. Chifuyu came up to his side as the blonde gestured to Smiley. "You're not gonna leave him like that are you?"

"You're right we should put a blanket on him." Chifuyu nodded, shaking his finger in front of Takemichi.

"I meant untie him!" Takemichi followed as Chifuyu went into the first available bedroom.

"Fine, once we get them both pills and clean up we can leave."

"Are you insane! Did you forget my bruises? If he wakes up at anytime before the sun and attacks it's your problem." Chifuyu snagged a blanket off the top of the bed slinging it over his shoulder.

"Why didn't we just put them in their beds?" Takemichi groaned

"It's too late they're already asleep just let it go." Chifuyu huffed

Takemichi followed Chifuyu back into the living room. With both hands he opened the blanket fully before letting it lay flat over Smiley's now relaxed figure.

"One you're insane if you think I'm going home. It's almost three am and watching these two for one night has given me nice horror stories to tell Mitsuya next time he talks about his sisters. Two I was dead serious about needing payment especially now if I'm gonna be spending hours cleaning."

~~~~

Morning came sooner than Takemichi would've liked. The sun blared through the window like the worst alarm. He squinted covering his eyes with one hand before shifting on the floor with the blanket he'd pulled from Souya's closet.

Before he could reexperience restful slumber a couple faint knocks had him tossing aside the blanket entirely. Yanking the door open with a low 'what' from the depths of his fatigue.

"Morning to you too." Draken's voice brought him back.

"Heyo Takemichy." Mikey grinned proudly

"How was last night?" Draken asked as Mikey entered the flat ahead of him.

Though the question really didn't need to be verbally answered as the image of Smiley laying on the ground with duct tape over his mouth and a half kicked away blanket revealing his taped up arms. The smell of puke still slightly thick in the hot apartment and the blood all over Chifuyu's jacket spoke louder than words.

Even with sleep still in the midst of Chifuyu's eyes he turned to Mikey and Draken standing behind him.

"Never a fucking gain." He pointed aimlessly, eyelids dashing over his eyes to properly bring the beauty of sight back to him.

Smiley rolled over, or half way over immediately awakening when he realized he was tied up. His head jerked towards Chifuyu with mumbled questions.

"Hold on."

"FUCK!" Smiley's grin was back full force. The edges of his eyebrows twitching, voice echoing through the flat. The unnecessary roughness at which Chifuyu had ripped away the tape showed off some prominent reddening just below his nose.

"Ah!" Angry nearly flew off the couch with the way he sat up immediately falling back into the pillow behind him. Clutching his head with both arms. "Who's being loud." He groaned

"We figured we owed you guys breakfast for taking care of the twins last night." Draken remarked amusement creeping onto his face.

"And this is way less than I was expecting. No cops or anything." Mikey nodded

"What happened to my fists!" Smiley grinned crazily

"Everyone stop talking!" Angry grit

"Take the twins out." Chifuyu said "I'm going home to sleep."

"Ditto to that." Takemichi yawned

#tokyo revengers #my little drabble is now a little story #tokyo manji revengers #souya x reader #angry x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smiley #tokyo revengers takemichi #tokyo revengers chifuyu #chifuyu #takemichi hanagaki #nahoya kawata #souya kawata #tokyo revengers fic

193 notes · View notes

mari-rosa-skiess · 4 years ago

Note

omg i love your writing sm😳❤️ I JUST REALIZED THAT IM THE SAME AGE IF YURIO AGH ITS A GREAT DAY TO BE 15😩👌 also, may i request yurio who meets the reader in japan (like he met her maybe after viktor chooses his program) and she's a skateboarder so like she accidentally skates into him! i feel like it'd be really innteresting to see an ice skater and a skater together as a couple haha (bonus if she's won national skateboarding competitions😎) have a great day and remember to stay hydrated!❤️

yes !!! i love this idea !! i went on a hiatus again, so sorry it’s VERY late, i hope it’s worth it though LOL

i’m personally not a skater, so i’m sorry if this isn’t accurate to how people skate :(

-mari<3

Navigation

Warnings: None I believe, just some swearing!

Pronouns: she/her

Words: 1.5k

You always enjoyed skateboarding. It was your favorite activity since you’ve been younger. It was kind of the way you were able to let stress go and have fun, especially since you are in your mid-teens. Things get rough at age 15, but there’s always skating there to help you.

You were skating down the streets one day in Japan, your (h/c) hair was flowing in the strong breeze since it was a significantly colder day, it was winter after all. There was snow on the ground, but only on the side of the roads and sidewalks, but it was all pretty melted.

You closed your eyes for a second because it felt like the wind was making your eyes shrivel up, but a few seconds later, you fell to the ground with a small ‘hmph’ leaving your lips.

You opened your eyes to see a shortish boy standing up, he looked pissed to say the very least.

“WHY WEREN’T YOU WATCHING WHERE YOU WERE GOING?!” the blond feminine boy screamed.

You stood up and dusted off your clothes, for some small pebbles and dirt got on you when you fell.

“I could say that same about you,” you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN!? YOU’RE THE ONE WHO RAN STRAIGHT INTO ME!” He screamed, although it was kind of difficult to understand him because of his thick Russian accent, especially because he was screaming.

“Well, you could’ve simply stepped out of the way when you saw me skating towards you, you could’ve simply stepped aside when I was like four yards away,” You pointed out.

“It seems you also were not paying attention to your surroundings,” you spoke in a snarky tone, smirking.

He went to say something else to defend himself, but he was dumbfounded, not to mention exhausted from the strenuous training from figure skating.

“You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to argue today,” he sighed, picking up his bag he had dropped.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” you replied, dropping down your skateboard.

After you got a closer look at his face, you realized he seemed familiar. You’ve seen him somewhere, but you’re not sure where. Maybe in a store? No, that couldn’t be it.

“Where are you going?” you asked him, slowly skating by him while he walked.

“Figure skating practice, Viktor doesn’t like it when I’m late,” he softly said.

“What’s it to you?” he added, slightly raising his voice.

“I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere,” you stared at him blankly, but still paying enough attention to the control you have on your skateboard so you don’t lose balance and topple over.

“You’ve probably seen me on TV, I won Grand Prix gold,” he stated.

“Oh, Yuri Plisetsky, that’s where I’ve heard of you,”

Yuri blushed at how you said his name, it sounded so beautiful the way you said it, almost as beautiful as he found the rest of you. It didn’t take him long to notice your features after he cooled down from his baby tantrum.

He just looked away and went quiet, not saying anything else. After a few minutes, you guys arrived at the rink. Viktor was waiting by the door.

You picked up your skateboard and just held it since there was no reason for you to just stand by it.

“Yurio, you know how I feel about you being late,” the tall man with silver hair stated in a slightly annoyed tone.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled under his breath.

Viktor’s eyes flickered to you and a grin appeared on his face.

“Oh, I see, you were out with your girlfriend! Why didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend?” Viktor excitedly exclaimed.

Yuri’s face turned red, so did yours.

“No, we just met a few minutes ago,” you shook your head.

“Yeah, this bitch carelessly bumped into me and knocked me over,” Yuri crossed his arms.

“Bitch?!” you asked.

“Okay! I see I was wrong,” Viktor nervously chuckled.

“Why don’t you guys say bye to each other then you can meet me inside, Yurio?” Viktor suggested.

“Okay, fine,”

Viktor said goodbye to you before walking back in the rink, going to get his skates on before Yuri walked in.

“Well, hopefully we don’t cross paths again,” you said irritated, dropping your skateboard back down.

Yuri let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

Yuri was surprised by himself. He never apologizes for anything, it’s just part of his personality to be a dick, but here he is, apologizing!

“What was that?” you asked, turning your head.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke up.

“I didn’t mean it, I’m just a dickhead, you’re not a bitch,” Yuri looked down, blushing.

“Alright, I forgive you...I think,” you said, questioning your own words.

“I’ll see you around,” you spoke.

“Wait, what’s your name?” Yuri asked you.

“Oh, right, it’s (Y/N),” you smiled.

He was shocked that you even had a beautiful name.

“Okay, see you later,” he flashed a small smile before walking into the skating rink.

You skated off, actually feeling good about having a new friend. You did find him cute though, and you were sure he’s sweet when he’s not mad. You kind of mentally beat up yourself for not getting his number, but hopefully, there will be other opportunities.

---

It’s been a few days since you bumped into Yuri, and you still thought about him occasionally, as did he. You decided to skate by the rink to see if he was there. Since he couldn’t drive, there was no way to really know if he was there unless you looked in.

The place was rented out, so if it was closed, the doors would probably be locked.

You picked up your skateboard and walked over to the door and pulled on the handle. A small smile appeared on your face when it opened. You walked inside and heard music playing.

You didn’t want anyone to see you because you didn’t want anyone to think you were creepy, so you kneeled down by the part of the skating rink wall that didn’t have a window and watched through the window part.

Yuri was elegantly skating around the rink, his routine already seemed flawless - to you at least - you weren’t used to seeing many people figure skate. He actually didn’t look annoyed for once, but he did look sweaty.

Very sweaty.

You looked down and noticed your skateboard started rolling away from you. You silently cursed under your breath before trying to grab it without making any noise. You ended up grabbing it, but you accidentally launched it because you lost grip of it while you were trying to set it up against the wall.

It made a loud clattering noise before rolling and hitting the wall. Since the room was so big, it echoed and caused Yuri to mess up his routine.

Viktor facepalmed and turned off the music.

“It was great until that noise distracted you...what even was that?” Viktor asked, looking around.

Viktor and Yuri both skated over to the exit of the rink and stepped out, looking around the lobby. You were hoping they wouldn’t see you despite you being literally four feet away from them.

Viktor saw you and you flashed a nervous smile before standing up.

“Yurio, you got a visitor,” Viktor spoke before walking back onto the rink.

Yuri looked over at you and he surprisingly wasn’t mad.

“Sorry for messing up your routine,” you apologized, looking really nervous.

“Oh... it’s just slightly annoying, I can always redo it,” he blushed.

“It was really good before I distracted you though,” you smiled.

“Oh, thanks,” his face reddened.

A few seconds of silence passed before Viktor walked back off the rink.

“Yurio, take a short break,” he said.

Yuri nodded before taking off his skates while still standing.

“Do you know where your board went?” he asked.

You looked around on the floor before spotting it, you walked over and picked it up.

“Why do you skate so much?” Yuri asked.

“I- Uh- It’s a hobby, and I’m also a competitive skater...with skateboarding, obviously,” you nervously said.

“That actually sounds interesting,” Yuri spoke.

“That’s surprising coming from you,” you smiled.

“What do you mean?” he asked confused.

“I mean, you are a dick,” you smirked and crossed your arms.

He rolled his eyes with a small frown.

“Joking!” you exclaimed, giggling.

“Anyway, we should hang out sometime if you’re up to you,” you smiled at the blond.

His face went back to the red shade it was previously at.

“A-Alright,” he stammered.

You pulled a small slip of paper out of your pocket that you wrote your number down on pre-hand in case you ran into him.

“Here’s my number, I’m free most of the time, just text me,” you smiled at him.

He took the slip of paper from your hand and put it into his pocket.

“Alright,” he smiled.

“I’ll let you get back to what you were doing, see you around!” you exclaimed with a smile while waving as you walked out.

“Bye!” he shouted.

Let’s just say, he did text you a lot when he got home.

#yuri plisetsky #yuri plisetsky x reader #yuri plisetsky imagine #yuri plisetsky x femreader #yoi #yuri on ice #yuri!!!! on ice #yurio x reader #yurio imagine #yurio plisetsky x reader

275 notes · View notes

blueeyedgeorgie · 4 years ago

Text

Wide Awake-Dream Was Taken

A/N: Here’s Pt. 2 bitches. I hope you all enjoy ! Also, please go support and follow @notphilosopherstudentblog because she helped me out with this because she’s so intelligent. <3

Btw Title is based off Katy Perry’s song Wide Awake

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.5k+

_________

It was early. Too early for Y/n to be crying. But her she was, sitting in bed, clinging to one of Clay's old shirts. In the past, it was normal for her to steal a couple of his belongings. It was typical of Y/n to invite herself into his closet, taking whatever she wanted to wear, whenever she wanted. But now it just felt wrong.

There were only a few items left Y/n had that were his. She never washed this shirt, she had only worn it once. She could still remember the day she stole it.

"Y/n, you've got to be kidding," Clay turned in his desk chair. She had just walked out of his closet wearing an oversized grey t-shirt. "You're seriously going to leave me with five pieces of clothing."

She shot him a playful look, taking a moment to admire herself in the nearest mirror. "I'm sorry Mr. 15 million subscribers. You can always buy more clothes with all that money."

"Fine... it looks better on you anyway."

She had spent the rest of the day in his shirt. And by the end of the day, the scent of his laundry detergent was strong. For an odd reason, the t-shirt had spent weeks in the back of Y/n's closet, untouched. At least, until this morning.

All night she was toss and turning. It seemed impossible for her to get a moment of sleep, her mind had been racing. The only reason she wasn't able to sleep was because of one person; Clay. Their fight had played over and over again in her mind.

'But Y/n, I really do love you.'

There were so many different ways the night could've ended. But it was her fault it ended how it did. If only she hadn't asked for him to step out of the stupid restaurant with her. She didn't need to make a scene, but she still did. This was all her fault.

The sound of her phone buzzing had pulled Y/n away from the piece of fabric in her hands. Looking down at her nightstand, she glanced at the electronic. Wilbur was calling. With a sigh, hesitantly she reached for the phone.

"Hey, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

The brunette bit his lip at the sound of her voice. He could tell she had a rough night. "Are you doing alright?"

"I'm..." she paused, looking down at the shirt in her lap. "Yeah, I'm doing better."

"That's good to hear," For some odd reason, he was pacing. It wasn't normal for him to pace back and forth. He was already dressed for the day, wearing a set of brown pants with a creme button-up shirt. A pair of glasses rested on his face as he spoke. "George and I were hoping to go get some breakfast. Do you think you could show us somewhere good?"

"Yeah, I'm up for breakfast. What about Nick and Clay?" If Clay was coming, she didn't know what she'd do. There would be tension, but maybe she could find a way to patch everything up between them.

"Nick's going over to Clay's. They wanna have a bit of time together."

"Oh, okay... when do you guys wanna meet up?"

"Maybe 30 minutes to an hour?"

"An hour it is."

Before preparing to go out, Y/n had texted Wilbur a location point to meet up. It was a nice restaurant located in town, it had always been one of her favorite places to eat. George and Wilbur had gotten a table outside, it was nice out for a day in Flordia.

"Do you think she's gonna do it?"

Wilbur glanced across the table to George, "Honestly, probably not." He let out a sigh, " hope she agrees. I really do. But it's gonna be hard for her to let go. I just think it'd be better if they got some time away from each other."

"You're right. As good of friends they are, they need a break from each other." They both knew it wasn't a good idea for Y/n to stay in Flordia at the moment, she needed a moment away from Clay. So Wilbur had come up with an idea to get Y/n to take a break.

"What do you think of Elise?" Changing the subject, George leaned back in his chair. It was rare for Clay's girlfriend to come up in conversation. She seemed like such a touchy subject in the group. She was definitely a sweetheart, but it seemed like she appeared out of nowhere. The group had been planning future Dream SMP roleplay on a Discord call. It had been so brief when Clay mentioned her. 'Hey guys, I just wanted to mention I started dating somebody.' It was smart of George to hold his tongue because of what else Clay had to say. 'Her name is Elise and she's 19.'

Most of the group had expected Clay and Y/n to end up together. They were best friends who lived in the same town. There was constant flirting going on between them. And not to mention Y/n had always been there to support Clay through the bad and good.

"Hey, guys!"

Both of the British men were pulled out of their thoughts by the sound of her voice. Y/n was quick to take a seat by Wilbur. "Have we ordered yet?"

"No actually, we've been waiting for you." George fixed his posture, his classic grin appeared on his face. "Got any recommendations for drinks?"

"My go-to has to be a mimosa and the eggs benedict."

The knock came as a surprise, but there were a lot of surprises happening this morning. Clay had woken up earlier than usual. Naturally, he'd get up around 9 or 10, but today he woke at 7. He couldn't go to bed for a few more hours, his mind wouldn't quit racing with thoughts. He had ended up skipping breakfast, he wasn't hungry today. It was normal for him to eat something, he always woke up starved. The early knock was the cherry on top of the cake of the surprises happening today.

"Hey Nick, what are you doing here?" Clay glanced behind his friend, looking for any sign of the rest of his friends. Originally, they had planned to meet up later that afternoon at his place. "I thought you were coming by at noon?"

Nick stood on the porch, burying his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was early in the morning, yet it was already warm outside. "Yeah, sorry I didn't ask if I could come by earlier. I just wanted some time alone with you."

"Cool, make yourself at home," Stepping aside, the blonde opened the door a bit wider for his friend. "Sorry it's a bit messy, I was planning to clean up before you guys showed up."

The pair had made their way to Clay's living room. It was nice, but still a bit messy just as he said. As the blonde began to pick up after himself, the pair had a bit of small banter.

"Is Elise gonna come by this afternoon?" Nick watched as Clay picked up a couple of items sitting on the coffee table.

"Uh, no. I think she had work today."

"Oh, what about Y/n?"

Clay tensed, pausing for a second. She had been on his mind a lot since the last time he saw her. The way she looked at him... it hurt. It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. This morning she was all he could think of. He missed her good morning texts, the way she'd update him about little situations happening in her schedule, when she would randomly face time him just to say: 'I wanted to see your stupid face because I missed it.'

"I... she's not coming."

"Why's that?"

"You know why, Nick." Clay let out a sigh, taking a seat on the couch. He didn't know what he could do, he was the one who messed everything up. If he tried to apologize, he might even piss Y/n off even more. She had always been a hardass about being hurt or betrayed, it was hard for her to give people a second chance. "I don't even think she knows we're all planning to meet up later today."

"Dude... it's weird seeing you two like this. It feels wrong." The two friends looked at one another, it seemed like Nick could tell exactly what Clay was thinking. 'It is wrong.'

"I miss her. But I was also the one who fucked everything up by ignoring her for weeks."

"Why'd you even do that?"

"Because I fell in love with her. I was scared she didn't feel the same. So I distanced myself and looked for someone to start a relationship with. That's why I met Elise."

"Clay... you're an idiot."

"I know."

Turning, Wilbur looked at Y/n. She was halfway finished with her meal. Everything was going great, she seemed so happy just to be able to talk with two friends. It seemed like the best time to spring the idea on her.

"Hey, Y/n?"

"Yes, Wilbur?"

He bit his lip, glancing at the man sitting on the other side of the table. George gave a brief nod, knowing what was going to happen next. "George and I had an idea we'd like to share with you."

"What is it?"

"You know how you've been talking about how you've always wanted to visit us in London?"

"Yeah..."

Wilbur paused, looking back at George for a second. "Well, we were thinking... I have a free room in my place. Why don't you spend one of two months with me just to see how you like London?"

Y/n's face lit up. "That sounds great, Wilbur. I... wow. That sounds so fun!" She paused, her smile disappeared. "But what about my house? I can't just abandon it for a month."

Wilbur bit his lip, 'Shit.'

"Clay can stop by once a week, just to make sure everything's fine. I'm positive he'll do it for you," George was quick to jump into the conversation. As soon as he mentioned Clay, Wilbur shot him a look. Y/n tensed at the sound of his name.

"Listen Y/n, you don't have to do it. Just keep the idea in mind, you can give me an answer before George and I leave."

"Okay..." Y/n bit her lip, looking at her food. She knew the only right answer was yes, but it was going to be hard to talk to Clay about this. "I think... I think I wanna do this. I wanna go with you guys."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, but... just give me some time to think it over."

"We're always here for you, Y/n. No pressure." Wilbur placed a hand on Y/n's. He wanted her to come to London, everything would be better. He cared a lot about Y/n, he really did. He just wanted to see her happy.

"I just want her to be happy," Clay let out a sigh, opening the refrigerator door. His eyes skimmed over what there was, he had gone grocery shopping the other day to plan for today. He still wasn't hungry.

"Everything's gonna get-" Nick paused, he was interrupted by the sound of Clay's phone ringing. There was a moment of silence as the blonde closed the refrigerator, approaching his phone on the kitchen counter.

"It's Y/n."

"What?"

"Do I pick it up?" Clay glanced at his friend.

"yes, yes, yes! Do it!"

Clay was quick to pick up the phone, putting it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Clay."

"Hey, Y/n."

"Do you..." she paused, "Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Yeah, I can talk." Clay leaned against the counter, listening to her intently. It had only been a few days, but he missed her voice. He could tell she was down.

"I know this seems like the wrong time to be asking for favors and everything, considering everything that has happened this last week. But... I need your help with something." She paused again. He could tell she was hesitating, as though something was keeping her back. "I think I'm gonna be gone for a while. And I just need someone to check up with my house every couple of days. Could you do that? It's fine if you don't want to, it was a stupid idea of me to ask you anyways-"

"No, yeah. Of course, I'll check up on your house for you, Y/n." He was quick to cut her off. The last thing he wanted was for her to think she couldn't turn to him for help anymore. "And it's not stupid of you to ask me. I'll always be here if you need something or need help."

She scoffed, "You weren't there for me these past few weeks." She stopped herself again for the third time. "I'm sorry, that was really bitchy of me."

"I deserved it," he could only chuckle. Y/n was still herself. "But yeah, is there anything else you need... or want to talk about?"

"I... no. No, that's it. I guess I'll talk to you... eventually."

"Alright," Clay fought back the urge to let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll see you." Without saying goodbye, she hung up the phone. He didn't know what to expect next, he wasn't even sure whether this was a step in the right direction or not.

Staring at the box, Y/n felt herself tear up for the hundredth time this week. This was going to be a hard task to complete, but it was going to help her let go.

Walking around the house, Y/n picked up item by item. Anything that belonged to Clay was going in the box. A few t-shirts, a couple of CDs she stole, one of his coffee cups. Y/n wasn't even sure how the cup had gotten to her house, but she knew it belonged to Clay. All of her coffee cups matched, all the same color and shape. But... this one cup had shown up in her pantry one day. Every time Clay had spent the night, he'd start the morning off with a cup of coffee, only using that cup.

At this point, Y/n was picking up items that held too strong memories of him. The box had quickly filled, it felt strange. It seemed like she had just lost a chunk of her house. Of her life. This needed to happen. This was the only way they'd be able to keep their friendship.

Y/n had agreed to come to London with Wilbur, she was finally fully on board. Two suitcases sat by her front door as she waited for Wilbur and George to arrive. She would only be in Florida for a few more hours, she needed to give this box back to him. Maybe she could just say screw it, leave it here under her bed, hidden away. So when she'd return she'd be comforted by his shirts and hoodies, she'd listen to his songs and cry.

No. She couldn't do that. If she did that she wouldn't be letting go of everything. Y/n needed closure, it'd be the best for them both and she knew it. Pulling her out of her thoughts, Y/n heard a knock on her door. It was time.

"Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur." Y/n smiled, embracing her friend in a hug as soon as she opened the door.

"George is in the car. We got coffee too." Wilbur looked down at her, his arms still wrapped around her waist, holding her close. "You're positive you want to do this?"

"Yes, I need to."

"Alright, then. I'll support you with whatever decision you make." He finally stepped aside, moving to grab her suitcases. Y/n grabbed the box, she had moved it into the hallway before greeting Wilbur. With one more glance, she looked down her hallway before closing the door. As soon as her home was locked up, Y/n had dropped her keys into the box. This was going to be the final step before London. Giving it all back.

George and Y/n greeted each other, Y/n giving him a quick hug before entering the car. The rest of the time, the car ride was quiet. There was obviously going to be tension. On their way, Y/n kept thinking to herself about what she was going to say. What if she fucked it all up? What if they broke out into another fight?

"Here we are."

Y/n sucked in a breath, looking over at the familiar house. This was the final step.

"Y/n, do you need either of us to walk up with you?" Wilbur spoke, he noticed the way she looked at the house.

She shook her head. "No, I got this..." Stepping out of the car, there were only a few words she'd repeat to herself. 'This is the final step. This is the final step. This is the final step.' It felt like it took forever for her to reach his porch.

As soon as she was face to face with the wooden door, she was quick to hit the doorbell. She just wanted to get this over with, fast. A few moments passed, and just as she reached to hit the doorbell again, she stepped back. The door was opening.

"Y/n?" Clay yawned, his hair was a mess. It was obvious she had just woken him up. "What are you-"

"It's time for me to go now. I'm sorry for waking you up. Here are my keys and a few of your items in case you wanted them while I was-"

"Woah, woah, woah." He interrupted her, rubbing his eyes. "Slow down, you're talking fast. You're leaving? Right now?"

"I..." she sighed. "Yeah, I am."

"And this..." he looked down at the box in her hands. "They're all mine?"

"Yeah, that's kinda the whole point." She gave him a look, "Considering the box says your name."

"Alright... thank you," he nodded, carefully picking the box up from her. "How long are you gonna be gone?"

"I'm not sure. I just know I have to go."

"Why?"

"Because of us, Clay. It'd be better for both of us. We need time apart. We have so much going on in each other's lives. I just need a break."

He watched her, she looked close to tears. Without thinking, Clay pulled his friend into his embrace, holding her close. "I understand. Take as much time as you need. I'll be here."

"Thank you."

The hug was short, Y/n was the first to pull away. As soon as it was over, she muttered a quick goodbye, hurrying back to the car. When the car door shut, Wilbur was quick to jump to asking questions.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? You're completely sure you want to do this?"

"I'm fine, Wilbur."

"Alright, I just wanted to check." Wilbur paused, looking out the window. "Y/n, would you mind if George and I said our goodbyes to Clay?"

"Go ahead, I'm not the boss of you."

Sitting in the car alone, Y/n got a moment to catch her breath and stop the tears from forming. She did it. She completed the final step. She could do whatever she wanted now. The moment alone in the car felt short, George and Wilbur were back in the car in what felt like seconds. Only, Wilbur sat in the back with Y/n, George driving by himself.

"You ready, Y/n?"

"More than anything." Y/n looked at Wilbur, the way he smiled at her just felt... good. Looking down, she noticed Wilbur gently grabbing her hand in his. She smiled, things were going to start getting good for her, she knew it.

"Wow okay, now I just feel like a driver for you two." George shot a dirty look in the mirror.

"A bad driver," Y/n grinned at her friend. "Start moving, Mr. colorblind." "If I get a ticket for running a red light, I'm blaming you."

With a yawn, Y/n opened her eyes. She had another good night of sleep, it had been weeks since she had a bad night of sleep. For eight months, she had lived in London. At this point, her house in Flordia was sold to a family of three, and she was no longer flatmates with Wilbur. Instead, she was his girlfriend.

Turning over, she faced the beautiful brunette. He was still asleep. She owed him everything. She was now an influencer because of him, he had helped her set up her YouTube channel and introduced her to the fans. He thought it'd be a good job for her, considering how she was a social butterfly and carry conversations.

Clay and Y/n didn't interact as much as they use to. They'd interact on the Dream SMP and over social media. But it was rare for them to speak in private. The only way their relationship got better was by them distancing themselves. What was a beautiful friendship had turned into an acquaintanceship. Clay was still dating Elise, but it seemed like things weren't going the best and there were signs of him planning to break up with her soon.

Wilbur peeked an eye open, looking at his girlfriend. "Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

Y/n smiled, she knew she was right. Everything got better for her. After all, When the rain ends, there will always be a rainbow.

260 notes · View notes

razrbladekiss · 3 years ago

Text

Tyrants | Chapter Four - Peril

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, drug use, Tig being Tig. The usual SOA shit. Sorry Donna..

She always saw the beauty in darkness. The lugubrious belle that came alongside the moon and stars and whatever else lurked amidst the murk of nighttime.

Isla was cliche in that sense.

She was cliche in the sense that she adored watching the sun set, swallowed by the mountains and high-rise buildings as the evening fell and Charming was painted black.

And maybe it was mostly melancholic because of the horrors that swathed that small town, but it was still beautiful nonetheless.

She still liked to bask in the scenery, to discern the marvel of her home, from the highest point she could access. And, sometimes, she liked to take somebody along with her so she wasn't completely alone.

"Why'd you still come up here?" Ope asked, pulling himself onto the roof as she sat with her back to the wall--puffing on a cigarette.

"Because it's quiet." She was content, comfortable with her response. "And whenever I'm looking for Jax, or Gem, or my dad--or they're looking for me--this is where we're almost always found. Just people watching, or reminiscing, or having a few minutes to ourselves away from the chaos downstairs."

It wasn't an unknown safe space--Gemma had told her that JT and Clay would climb up there during the earliest days of the club--but it was special.

Jax, Opie, and Isla spent time up there as kids, too. Because they were bastards and were always running from their fathers--and den mother--and the roof of the clubhouse was their go-to.

She never really got out of that habit. She'd spend hours up there if she could, just watching as Charming bustled beneath her. And she liked that it was separate to the garage, but everyone knew where to find her if they needed her.

"It clears your head, being up here." She added. "I have got so much shit going on right now--between work, and my personal life--but coming up here is like a refreshment, I guess."

Opie understood what she meant because he was also seeking comfort in the night. Riding through dusk, spending time alone on his bike as he cruised the streets of his quaint town, relishing in the darkness because it was strangely comforting to him.

He liked to be alone. His thoughts were brutal and they seared his brain left and fucking right, but he liked his own company.

"Wish I thought about comin' up here when I was released from holding." The man chuckled, balancing a cigarette between his lips. "Stahl grilled the fuck outta me."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She really fuckin' did." He added, grunting as smoke blew from his nostrils. "Did she get you? I know she got Gemma."

"Nope, she didn't. I don't know why, though. She interrogated everyone else. Starting to feel a little left out."

Opie chuckled, smiling a bit. "Be glad. It's obvious that she's used to getting what she wants."

"And did you give it to her?"

"Fuck no." Isla smiled. Proud. "She can cross-examine me all she fuckin' wants—I'll never sell the club out."

"They know that, Ope."

"I know." Half confidently, he nodded. "Just—Stahl made me second guess it all, y'know?"

Nobody in Charming--aside from the PD--knew where that despicable bitch came from, and nobody cared to ask.

What they did know, though, was that she had her heart set on making that town a living fucking hell as she strived to eradicate the Sons of Anarchy by getting to its members.

She'd grilled everyone she could've. She cornered Gemma when she was out running errands, leaving the grocery store with a sour taste in her mouth when Teller told her where to fucking shove it.

Same went for Jax, and Clay, and Chibs, and Tig, and...Well, all of them told her to get fucked, actually.

None of them caved. None of them wanted to sell the club out because there was no reason to.

Well, there was a reason to, but no desire to.

There'd been murders. Three, to be specific. And one of them just happened to be a police officer--which was quite unlucky, but it wasn't awful.

They hated cops.

What they hated more, however, was the idea of getting caught by them. And Clay was. Somehow, anyway.

Piney's old "friend"--Nate Meineke--needed quality, albeit illegal, guns with no traceability to attack the convoy that was transporting one of his friends from point A to point B. And it went as swimmingly as possible...

Until June Stahl was put on the case and found that idiot's phone at the scene after dropping it mid-ambush.

Clay just happened to be the last person he had called. Which then caused the investigation to point toward Charming.

They all knew the Sons were guilty of supplying those weapons. Who else would it have been? They were known for running illegal firearms without batch numbers from a quaint Californian town whose name didn't quite fit its image.

It was blatant, though nobody gave it up.

But Stahl tried her damndest to get answers. And when she didn't, she targeted the member that she saw to be the most vulnerable--after a hit went wrong and he failed to cover his tracks--and Opie just happened to be that guy.

She questioned him for hours. She practically held the man captive in that little cell until he caved. But he didn't--and he wasn't going to, either.

He was loyal. That's one of the reasons why Jax wanted to patch him back in.

"Yeah, I know." Isla got to her feet when she heard Tig yelling for her downstairs. "But you're the strongest guy I know, Ope. I don't think Stahl, of all people, is gonna get to you."

He shrugged her off, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the gravelly ground of the roof.

Opie had changed. Not much, and it wasn't very apparent, but he'd changed. Chino had changed him, she thought.

He was still dedicated to his club, still in love with the reaper and the responsibility that came with the patch--but Opie Winston lacked that flicker of enthusiasm now.

"How does your dad feel about you being back at the table?"

"Said he's proud of me."

He was a man of very, very few words. But the tone that he took--the sheer relief twined into contentment--spoke a greater volume.

Piney would always support his son, feel a sense of gratification from his involvement in the club. And, of course, Ope felt grateful to be back--but it was different now.

He'd served time for his club. Donna consistently argued that they sold him out and that he was fucking stupid for running back into the arms of SAMCRO.

But it was his brotherhood. The Sons of Anarchy were his family--his lifeline. He was nothing if not blessed to be patched back in.

"And I guess that wife of yours isn't too happy about it?"

"How'd you reach that conclusion?"

"Well," she ignored that Tig was waiting for her, standing directly in front of him. "If she was genuinely thrilled about you being back here, she'd have been coming to Gemma's dinners, and spending more time at the clubhouse with us. But she isn't, and I'm starting to realize that she probably hates me now."

His head shook. "She doesn't hate you. It's just...It's just raw. Weird being back, I think."

"She didn't even have to leave. She knows that."

Donna did know that. But there was always something about Gemma. About the way she let things slide so often, how she felt that she had Clay so pussy whipped that he'd be at her every beck and call--but, really, that was redundant. Because Gemma let him get away with fucking murder.

Literally.

"Is she gonna be there tonight?

"Of course. She wouldn't miss Jax's son coming home." He got up, reaching for her hands. "Sorry that she's been so distant with you, Isla. But she's just been stressed out--money worries and the kids and stuff, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know."

Donna wasn't traditionally a worrier. But five years worth of finances, being a single mom, and fretting over her husband potentially not making it out of prison alive, just did that to a woman.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so." Grateful for her offering, though recognizing how damn stubborn his wife was, he conceded. "Thanks, though."

"Anytime. And if you change your mind, or need me, you know where I am--"

"Isla!"

"He is getting on my last fucking nerve today." She groaned, flipping Tig off as she looked over the ledge. "I'm coming! Give me a minute!"

"I've given you plenty of minutes! Just get your ass down here!"

"Just go," Ope chuckled, leaning down to peck her cheek. "We can have this talk another time."

Isla turned back to him, frowning. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Go 'n talk to him--I'll see you tonight."

He was such a nice guy. So considerate, kind.

She loved him a lot.

The flouncy sundress rose to the middle of her thighs as she sauntered through the clubhouse, hearing Trager talking--rather conspicuously, though slightly muffled--to somebody on his cell.

"C'mon, Tiggy. Why'd you yell at me?"

He waved his hand to shut her up, gesturing for the blonde to follow him out of the clubhouse and toward his bike.

"Yeah, cool. K, brother--see 'ya later. Bye." He hung up and slid the phone into the pocket of his cut, swiveling to face Isla with a smile. "You ready?"

"For what?"

"The party?" Tig told her, watching confusion sweep over her face. "I'm taking you over 'cuz you want a drink and don't wanna drive home after? And that you're probably gonna end up heading home with Juice, or something--"

"Juice?"

"It always happens," he shrugged, pointing at the helmet he set out for her at the back of his bike. "We all head out, you get too drunk, you take a liking to Juicy, and you try to ride his dick."

"What?" Isla got herself situated behind him as he got on first, her arms wound around his waist. "That was one time. I've only slept with him once, and I told you it'd never happen again."

"And why is that?"

Her cheeks flushed red, the engine revving sending vibrations through her entire frame.

"Because he was too gentle." Tig's foot collided with the kickstand.

"And the little Catholic girl likes it rough."

She felt the solid gold crucifix burning a hole into her chest.

"Yes. I like it rough." He groaned, leaning into her. She swatted at his chest over his shoulder, laughing heartily. "Just take me to see the baby, dickhead."

The bike sped out of the lot and Isla was loving the thrill of being on two wheels. She'd always liked being stuck to the back of somebody's Harley--but she'd never own one herself.

Isla was like Gemma. She felt stable enough riding with somebody, but riding alone--being in control of the motorcycle--was fucking terrifying.

Jax and Opie had encouraged her to take a ride at one point, but it didn't end very well, and Chibs spent the best part of two hours trying to stitch his daughter back up whilst Gemma castigated the two imbeciles who thought it was even reminiscent of a good idea.

Weaving through traffic gracefully, freely, was appealing to her, however. But she wouldn't be caught dead--alone--on a fucking bike.

Plus, she quite enjoyed being taken places. Escorted by a member of the club. It was safe.

The wind whirred and whipped around them, and she wished she didn't make the effort with her hair tonight. It was ruined, tousled to within an inch of its life, and she dreaded the thought of having to brush the knots out in Jax's bathroom.

Still, commuting via Harley was a hell of a lot quicker and had a few more benefits than commuting via car.

But the looks that they got were piercing. Horrible. Mainly from Hale stationed beside his squad car, watching as Isla and Tig raced down the freeway.

"He likes you." He spoke over the roaring engine when he hit the first stop light all night. "He hates that you've never given him a chance--"

"He's a cop, and I'm the outlaw's daughter. I've been raised to hate his kind."

Tig nodded his approval, setting off once again when the light switched to green and all opposing traffic stood still.

At one strange point in time, David Hale had his sights set on Isla Telford. He was in love with her. Completely besotted.

And she never gave him a second glance because, for one, she wasn't interested. He hated that she was so close to Jax and Opie, but not him, and he wished that she'd push herself away from the bad guys to grow closer to the heroic law-enforcer.

But he was a control freak above everything else, and Isla was just a free-spirit. She was loyal to her friends and family but she didn't want to get tied down, and she didn't want to become friendly with a fucking cop.

The only cop she liked was crooked. And Unser was in a similar spot to her--a little too affiliated with SAMCRO, but not completely doted on. Though, they were both strangely essential fixtures, and Clay would've been lost without them.

"Juice is here." Tig taunted as he helped her off the bike, holding her hand when she stumbled over herself a little. "Try to keep those panties on."

"Can't make any promises, Tiger." Her growl was seductive, though he knew that she was fucking with him.

She'd given up rebuking his claims, instead feeding into them because, with Trager, she couldn't seem to win. He was sleazy, and she loved that back and forth.

What she loved more, though, was that he was comfortable. He was a strange man, and nobody really understood just where he came from, but Isla liked that she could make jokes of any kind around him. He was easy to get along with. Easy to love.

And, man, did she love Alex Trager.

"If you do fuck him, though, would you make a video?"

Isla stepped into Jax's front room, turning on her heels. "Who said that we haven't already got one?"

She chuckled and wandered into the party, leaving Tig with a few convoluted thoughts and even more raunchy questions.

"Fuck. Gemma taught her well." He grumbled under his breath, reaching for the beer in Half-Sack's hand.

He slumped on the couch, motioning for his usual lay to sit in his lap as he watched Juice fawn over his little blonde friend making conversation with some other random woman already.

"Yeah, totally..." she agreed with whatever the girl was saying, but her eyes were glued on Tara. Just floating around the party.

She felt bad that the doctor was alone. Despite all that she thought of her, being out of ones depth in such an intimidating setting wasn't very nice. And Isla was an empath.

"D'ya think anyone 'round here has any nail glue?"

"Gemma might." She smiled, pointing toward the kitchen.

Grateful that she managed to shake that one off, Isla weaved through the small conclave and sat beside Tara, offering a friendly face during a time of such discomfiture.

Her heart was aching, the sheer nervousness was palpable, and she knew that Tara felt the same way too.

But Isla just sucked it up. Because she wanted to talk to her, and had to be the one to initiate it.

"Thanks for coming." Her smile was wide, genuine.

She offered a beer to the brunette, hoping that she'd take it.

"Thanks for asking me here." Tara accepted it, glad that Isla remembered she wasn't particularly a wine girl like herself.

Christ. This is awkward.

"Trust me, you were the first person I asked to come tonight."

"How so?"

"Well," a little bit more comfortably, she faced her completely, "you've literally nursed Abel back to health. You've been there every step of the way. You've been the best surgeon. And, as much as I hate to say it, you helped Wendy so much, Tara. I'm really thankful for all that you've done for this family."

"It's my job." She tried to brush the comments off, but her heart definitely fluttered at the praise.

Isla never changed. She was still the sweetest soul, she thought.

"I know, but you've had it rough with this lot--with Gemma, I mean."

"She isn't anything I can't handle." Confidently, she asserted.

"I know, and I'm glad that you're able to stand your ground." Reluctant, a hand landed against Tara's palm.

She jolted a little bit, but softened into the embrace.

It was comfy, warm. Prosperous, perhaps, because it meant something. Tara not jerking away and leaving once Isla offered a friendly embrace, was promising.

They spoke about the baby for a little while, and shared a few laughs at Tig's expense. It was strange, really. To be talking to her ex-best friend was strange, but she'd missed it.

Donna joined the mix, too, and it was starting to feel like old times. Isla recognized that they'd never slip back into that routine, the dedication to one another that they'd known when they were kids--but it was nice.

The conversation stuttered and it wasn't able to flow as freely as what she might've liked, but it was a start.

To know that she had something resembling an acquaintanceship with two women she admired, was nice.

And Jax introducing his baby to his brand new home, to his extended family that were already so fucking dedicated to him, was just the most wonderful thing ever.

"What about a beer?" Clay joked, holding the bottle close to Abel. Jax laughed, though he shook his hand away. "What? Grandpa can't give him his first beer?"

"No, he can't."

"I'll take it, though. If you're offerin'." Chibs grabbed the Budweiser and twisted the cap with the leather grip of his glove.

He gestured to Isla, tipping it toward her. "Want some?"

"No, you're alright." She went back to her wine, smiling at that little bundle of happiness in Jax's arms, wondering how the hell he'd gotten to be in this position now.

But it was because of Tara. Her commitment, her talent, and sheer want to help that angel through the roughest patch that a baby could have possibly been thrust into.

How Gemma could still loathe that girl--after everything she did--was beyond her completely.

Tara was the unlikeliest hero in Abel's story.

"Why is it that every time I see you, your highlights get more chunky?" Gemma smiled at the comment, turning to see her favorite girl, flaunting the most beautiful smile.

She handed Isla the bottle of whatever wine Chibs could get this evening, unable to quit beaming at the thought of her grandson finally being at home. Where he belonged.

"I told you I'd do them for you, Gem."

"I know," she nodded, playing with a few strands of hair, "I was gonna ask you, but you've been a little distant this week--didn't wanna add to your workload, baby."

"That's super considerate of you. Are you alright?" Isla teased, holding a hand to Gemma's forehead.

She slapped it away with a laugh. "Fuck you. I'm always considerate."

"Sure you are. That's why Wendy is here, right?"

"No," her head shook, "she's here 'cuz this is her house. If I had it my way, she'd be out on her ass faster than what you could even say 'crank whore.'"

Isla wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, tipping her head toward the blonde in the living room.

"I thought you made sure she was gonna be here tonight?" Confused, she quizzed.

She was under the impression that Wendy was starting to grow on her. After she'd tried to kill her, of course.

"I did," Gem confirmed. "But only because I knew it'd be awkward between her and Tara."

Amazed, or maybe fucking horrified, Isla simply glared at her.

It should've been obvious to her--plain as day--that Gemma Teller doing a good thing was simply a bullshit facade, built in order to take away from the fact she wanted to do an inherently bad thing.

But Isla liked to see the good in people, so it wasn't. And that really was one of her mot fatal flaws.

"She thanked me for letting her stay, too."

"And what'd you say to her?" Almost as if she didn't want to know the answer, she asked.

Black nails danced along the rim of her wine glass as she leaned against the counter, watching everybody enjoy themselves as they bitched and moaned.

"That she's lucky to be alive."

"Jesus, Gem," her head shook disparagingly, disappointed perhaps.

But being surprised that the woman made a threatening comment toward Wendy, was just as stupid as being surprised at Tig for fucking another hooker during his free time.

"You've gotta keep her close, ma. She's the mother of your grandson, the woman your son did love at one point."

Ma. The word rolled off her tongue unintentionally most of the time, but she didn't hate it.

Gemma was the mother figure in her life--hell, she was the mother figure in a few of the Sons' lives--and it didn't feel weird using that around her. It was affectionate. She adored it.

"Jax never loved her," matter of fact, she retorted. "They got drunk together. They smoked dope together. They didn't love one another--"

"They got married." Isla reminded her. "They have a kid together. They have a lot of history."

"Just because they have history, doesn't mean they love one another. You've got history with him."

Her chuckle was throaty, almost a full-on splutter. "We have not got that same history--we're friends, Gem, you know that's different."

She supposed the blonde was right.

There was hell of a contrast between friends for life and friends with benefits--and Gemma knew that. She just didn't like that Jax gravitated toward Wendy when he'd always had Isla right there in front of him.

Though, she was more than aware that the pair didn't look at each other that way--she still lauded the thought of the two together.

"I still hate her."

"I know," Isla laughed at Gemma's irritability, sipping on her wine, enjoying the sight of everybody having a damn good time.

"She's checking into rehab, too."

"Really? Where?"

"Some place in Oakland, I think." Gemma added, smiling at Clay when he wandered over to the pair. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"You think she's gonna stick to it?"

"Couldn't tell 'ya." He answered for his wife, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Isla's cheek. "She's determined though, I'll give her that."

"Yeah?" His nod was optimistic--strange for Clay Morrow. "Well, I'm glad she's working on herself, anyway. She's got potential."

"You hate her."

"I know." She didn't refute the assertion. "But I'm still happy for her."

At least somebody is.

She wasn't lying. Wendy was a good girl, a woman tortured for no good reason. And she felt for her, she really did.

It'd been a shock, finding out that she was pregnant. But it wasn't like they weren't expecting it--what with the rate she and Jax were going at it.

From the start, Isla and Gemma were worried. She was notorious for her crank habit and the girls thought she was going to kill herself before she had the chance to see her son into the world.

And that almost happened, didn't it?

The doctors at St. Thomas were fucking miracle workers--Isla was on pins and needles waiting for a call to say that Wendy and Abel were okay.

But she tried not to dwell on that, now. They were both as healthy and Abel was as happy as he could've been, so Isla was content. She wasn't pleased, but she was comfortable with the way that things were going.

Tara, however.

"No!" She yelled, backing out of the nursery. "No, fuck you, Jax."

Juice stumbled backward when she nudged him out of the way, pulling her purse from the kitchen counter.

Isla and Gemma couldn't not stare.

"Tara, c'mon!" Jax called after her, but it was too late.

The front door had been slammed shut and the party came to a complete standstill. A thickening tension was shrouding the group, and things were only just starting to simmer.

"What was that all about?" The blonde asked Juice, leaning against the island.

She didn't want to prove Tig to be right but, after a few glasses of wine, Juan Carlos Ortiz was starting to pique her interests.

He swallowed thickly, watching Clay leave the room. "He said something about Wendy--wanting to keep whatever it is that he and Tara have going on the down low so it doesn't set her off, or something."

Makes sense.

"He has a point. She's doing really well lately." He continued. "Jax would hate to stunt her progress by shoving his relationship with Tara in her face."

Isla was rattled.

Jax hadn't talked to her in days, and she wasn't aware that so much had changed. She wasn't aware that he had established a relationship with Tara Knowles.

Again.

You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another.

She was too irritated to reside in that same room as Gemma, now. Knowing the conversation she'd initiate the second that Juice left was too fucking much. So she left first, instead.

The living room was almost empty. Just Clay, Bobby, Tig, and Chibs sat around the couches as Donna, the kids, and Ope were preparing to set off.

Everything was annoying her, now. She hadn't made the effort with Donna all night, but she was pissed that she hadn't started to say goodbye to her yet.

Isla was so fucking irritated that she didn't even want to talk to Tig, or her father. So she didn't.

"Where're you going, petal?" Chibs asked, hindering her plan to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the night. He knew that she'd crack a smile at the nickname.

"I was just wandering. Not really sure what to do with myself."

"Come sit down," he gestured to the space between himself and Tig, and wound an arm around her when she met the leather. "I've missed 'ya."

"Tonight? Or just in general."

"In general. It's been a few days, love."

"I know, I'm sorry." Her head rested against his Sgt. At Arms patch, and she sighed. "Work has been so fucking busy and I feel like I haven't gotten a moment to myself this week."

Isla only worked a part-time gig at some shitty salon just on the outskirts of Charming--edging into Stockton--but she hated her job.

She hated driving into the city every morning and evening, wasting a fuck ton of her paycheck on gas when, really, there was no point.

She hated her cunt boss.

Hated her cunt clients.

She hated that nobody really spoke to her because of who her father was. And when they did speak to her, it was almost like they were scared. Of Isla.

Gemma had always promised her that there was a space at the auto shop for her had she needed it, but she couldn't think of anything worse than having to answer to Gemma and Clay every single day.

Well, more than what she already was, anyway.

"Who'd 'a thought that being a hairdresser was so demanding?"

"Me, apparently." She joked, watching Tig get up and leave the room.

It'd turned somber. A little too bleak for her liking, but she guessed that everyone felt a bit awkward after Tara stamped out and Jax sat on his porch. Alone. With a bottle of whiskey.

She hated the hold that woman had over him sometimes. The way he was so fucking devoted to Tara Knowles that she could literally slap him, scream in his face, and ruin his son's homecoming party--and he would still pine for her.

She'd never understand that.

And she didn't understand how such a lively bunch of individuals had mellowed out over the course of two hours, either.

The party had disappeared. Dissipated into nothing and the atmosphere she once lauded was completely dead in the water.

It was fucking grim, and she couldn't wait to head home.

"Can I come with you tonight?"

"Why'd you even ask? Y'know you're welcome to come home with your old man whenever you want." Chibs told her a little bit stern, though it was essentially full of love.

She just smiled up at him, a bit buzzed. But she was having a good-ish time and who was he to chastise her for drinking a little too much tonight?

"Wanna head off now?"

"Yeah--lemme just say 'bye' to Gemma."

"Alright, I'll be out front. Don't forget your purse." He reminded, knowing she was too ditsy for her own good.

Chibs helped her to her feet, letting go of her hand only to part ways for a few moments.

Her mood was perking up, now. The prospect of being able to spend a few hours with her dad after a long fucking day, was just the best.

And she'd really missed him. Missed the time they once had an abundance of. Missed the evenings that they'd spend talking, drinking, watching movies, doing the generic father daughter activities.

They hadn't had that for a while, and it was truly a blessing that it was within reach tonight.

Well. It was within reach for all of five minutes.

"Oh my God--" Gemma's cell slipped from between black nails and bounced across the table. Saturated hues were locked on Isla, and her head shook.

"What?"

"There's--there's been an accident." She managed to muster out. "Or, maybe a drive-by, I don't know, but Donna--"

"Donna?" Piney's attention was snatched at the mention of his daughter-in-law. He stood up. "What about her?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Gemma was going to say because it was just the usual now, wasn't it?

Being affiliated with SAMCRO just did that to somebody. Man, woman, child. They didn't fucking care.

"She's--Piney, she's dead."

#tig trager #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager fic #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy #jax teller x oc #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller

35 notes · View notes