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ankababy · 1 day ago

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A Home (part 12)

Part 1 Part 11

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

One lightbulb, one chair, one girl, one—bullet?

Niragi was still not a morning person.

Actually, scratch that—Niragi wasn’t a person who functioned at any time of day unless he had a cigarette in one hand and his gun in the other.

So when he dragged himself out of bed, still half-asleep, still rubbing his eyes, looking horrible because who the fuck was he trying to impress—

The last thing he expected was you.

Balanced on top of some fucking chair-pile contraption from hell.

He stopped dead in his tracks, one foot in the living room, one foot still in the hall, blinking hard because—

What. The fuck. Was he looking at?

You were standing—no, teetering—atop a fucking tower of stacked furniture, one foot on a chair, the other on some books stacked haphazardly on a stool.

And you were just up there.

Poking at the lamp.

Muttering under your breath.

“…The fuck are you doing?”

You turned your head over your shoulder, looking at him like he was the crazy one. “The lamp.” you said simply. “It’s not yellow enough.”

Niragi just stared.

You turned back to the lamp, squinting. “It’s supposed to be warm. Soft. Cozy. But it’s just wrong, Niragi. It’s not right.” You huffed in frustration, tapping at the glass like that would somehow make it glow the exact shade you wanted. “The aesthetic is completely ruined.”

Niragi took a slow step closer, staring at the fucking death trap of furniture you had somehow not fallen from yet.

“What the fuck are you standing on?”

“A chair.”

He gave you a blank look. “No, that—” he gestured at the entire unstable mess under you “—isn’t just a chair. That’s some final-destination-shit waiting to happen.”

“It’s fine.” you said dismissively, tapping the glass again, completely unbothered. “I made sure it was balanced.”

“Balanced?” Niragi repeated. “You’ve got a fucking stool on top of a table on top of a chair. What part of that sounds balanced to you?”

You didn’t even look at him. “The part where I haven’t fallen yet.”

Niragi just dragged a hand down his face.

This was a fucking joke.

You were rambling to yourself about the fucking hue of a fucking lightbulb, picking apart details that no one—except you—would ever give a shit about, your whole body swaying slightly as you balanced on that death-trap, completely unphased.

And Niragi? He was just standing there, watching, like some fucking idiot.

Because he knew you were going to fall.

Had to fall.

There was no fucking way someone could balance like that, no way you could just stand up there for this long without—

You reached up, adjusting the light slightly.

The stack wobbled.

Niragi felt his stomach fucking drop.

“Hey—”

You shifted. Like you expected it. Like you knew exactly how to keep yourself steady.

And you just—

Did.

Like it was fucking nothing. Like you weren’t about to break your skull open on the floor. Like you weren’t even remotely aware of how fucking insane this whole situation was.

Niragi just stood there.

Jaw clenched. Hands tense.

Heart beating a little too fast.

He hated this. Hated how easily you moved, how confident you were, how your focus was completely on that stupid fucking lamp instead of the fact that you were standing on a structure that should not be able to hold you. Hated that, for some fucking reason—

He didn’t want you to fall.

Not because he gave a shit about you breaking something. Not because he thought you couldn’t handle it.

But because the idea of seeing you hurt made something in his chest go tight.

That pissed him off.

“Get the fuck down.” he finally snapped, stepping closer, ready to just fucking drag you off if he had to.

You let out a dramatic sigh. “I just need to fix this—”

“I swear to god—”

“The glow just isn’t soft enough—”

“I will shoot the fucking lightbulb.”

You gasped like he had just threatened your firstborn child. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

You scowled, crossing your arms. “You’re just mad because you don’t understand aesthetics.”

“Aesthetics?” Niragi scoffed. “You’re out here risking your life over some shitty warm lighting.”

“It’s not warm enough.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo.”

You gave him a dramatic look, then sighed, stepping down onto the back of a chair—

And jumped.

Niragi swore his heart stopped for a second.

He thought you were actually going to fucking fall.

But you didn’t.

You landed perfectly, somehow already moving, already stretching your arms over your head like this whole thing had just been a normal part of your morning routine.

Niragi was still standing there.

Trying to remember how the fuck to breathe.

Trying to ignore the way his palms had gone sweaty.

Trying to ignore the fact that his first instinct had been to catch you.

You turned to him, still looking mildly pissed off about the lightbulb. “We’re changing it.” you declared.

Niragi clicked his tongue. “You’re fucking weird.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you’re an asshole.”

He didn’t mind this. Didn’t mind your weird perfectionism. Didn’t mind your ridiculous need to make everything match your vision. Didn’t mind that you were standing on top of death-trap furniture at seven in the fucking morning just to complain about the shade of yellow in a fucking lamp.

Didn’t mind that, somehow, you made the apartment feel less like a place to rot and more like something… real.

He wouldn’t admit it.

Wouldn’t even think about it too hard.

But something about you? Something about this whole fucking moment?

Made him like mornings just a little more.

“You know lightbulbs?” you asked suddenly, your tone half-skeptical, half-curious.

Niragi’s eyebrows shot up. “What kind of dumbass question is that?”

You narrowed your eyes. “A normal one. Do you know lightbulbs?”

He just stared at you, completely silent.

You blinked.

He blinked back.

Nothing.

No response.

No answer.

Just his stupid, smug face watching you.

You sighed, already exasperated. “Niragi.”

Still nothing.

Your foot tapped against the floor. “Niragi.”

He finally tilted his head, lips twitching like he was barely holding back laughter. “Huh?”

You groaned. “Oh my god—”

“What do you mean, do I know lightbulbs?” he cut you off, voice all slow and lazy. “Like, personally? Am I best fucking friends with them?”

Your fingers twitched. “Do you know how they work?”

He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, eyes flickering with something that really didn’t need to be there this early in the morning. “I know a few things that turn on.”

“Oh my fucking god.”

You spun on your heel, already walking away, already regretting everything. But you didn’t get far. Because in a second, he was behind you, looping an arm lazily around your shoulders, tugging you back just enough to throw you off balance, his breath warm against your ear. “Relax.”

You shoved at him, rolling your eyes, but he didn’t let go. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you—” his grip tightened for half a second before he finally let go, voice laced with laughter “—are so fucking easy.”

You scowled. “Oh, fuck off.”

He grinned. “Make me.”

You turned to face him fully, crossing your arms. “So? Do you know how lightbulbs work or not?”

His smirk lingered, but there was something knowing behind his gaze now, something too aware. He let the silence stretch just long enough to irritate you again, just long enough for you to open your mouth, ready to yell, before he finally—finally—answered.

“Yeah.” he said simply, shrugging one shoulder. “I do.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Really?”

He scoffed. “What, you think I’m fucking stupid?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I just think you’re an asshole.”

Niragi let out a low hum, but didn’t answer much more.

You let out a long sigh, running a hand through your hair, already feeling tired just dealing with him. But at least you had your answer. And if he knew what he was doing… well. That meant you didn’t have to.

“Alright, genius.” you said, looking him dead in the eye. “Go get me new ones.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” You gestured vaguely toward the lamp. “If you know how they work, you know what I need. So go get them.”

He blinked. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because I don’t know what I’m doing.” You placed a hand on your hip. “And you do.”

Niragi stared at you like he couldn’t believe what you were saying, like this was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. “You were the one complaining about the color—”

“And you were the one being a smartass about it!” you cut him off. “So if you’re so damn smart, go get me new ones.”

He licked his teeth, tilting his head slightly, watching you. “You think I’m just gonna listen to you?”

You just lifted your chin, meeting his gaze with absolute certainty. “Yeah.”

Niragi’s grin twitched.

Because the worst part? You were fucking right. And he didn’t even know why. Didn’t know why he was going to do it. Didn’t know why he was already thinking about where the fuck he could find the right ones. Didn’t know why he cared.

But he did.

And that pissed him off.

So naturally, he turned to make you feel just as pissed off as he did.

“I better get something for this.” he muttered, already walking away.

“You get to keep living here.” you called after him. “For free.”

He turned back just enough to flash you a grin. “I meant something better.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off, Niragi.”

“What type is it?” he asked, turning his head just enough to look at you again.

You stared. “What?”

He gave you a long, expectant look. “The lightbulb, princess. What kind is it?”

You blinked.

Opened your mouth.

Closed it again.

Because—what? What kind? Did lightbulbs have kinds? Wasn’t it just… a fucking lightbulb?

You felt your brain stutter over itself as you looked at him, eyes darting between his face and the lamp in front of you, suddenly very aware that you had no idea what the fuck you were talking about.

“…The… normal kind?” you tried, voice slow, uncertain.

Niragi just stared.

He sighed.

“Jesus fucking christ.” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “You don’t even know what you need?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I do—”

“No, you don’t.”

Your fingers twitched. “I know the vibe I want.”

Niragi let out a laugh. “The vibe?”

“Yes, the vibe, Niragi.” You gestured aggressively toward the lamp. “The warmth, the color, the—”

“Oh my fucking god.”

You scowled. “You asked, asshole!”

Niragi ran a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath before rolling his shoulders back. “Alright, alright, shut up.”

You glared. “You shut up.”

“You—”

“Niragi!”

“Y/N!”

You huffed, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.

He huffed, mirroring you just to be an asshole.

A long, tense silence.

“…Just fucking take it out and bring it to me.” he muttered, jerking his chin toward the lamp.

Your lips parted slightly.

You looked at the lamp.

Then back at him.

Then back at the lamp.

Then back at him.

Niragi’s eyes narrowed.

“Take. It. Out.” he repeated, voice sharp, slow, like he was talking to a child.

You blinked again.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t even breathe.

Just stared harder.

“You do know how to do that, right?”

More silence.

You gave him nothing.

Not even a blink.

“…Are you fucking serious?”

You continued to stare.

“Oh my fucking god.” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face before stepping forward. “Move.”

You stepped back instantly, watching with way too much amusement as he grabbed a chair, adjusting it under the lamp.

“See?” he muttered, stepping up. “It’s not that fucking hard.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, you’re taller.”

Niragi scoffed, twisting the bulb out easily, not even looking at you. He hopped off the chair, taking a look at the bulb before tossing it into your hands without warning. You barely caught it, fumbling slightly as he smirked down at you, clearly entertained.

“There.” he muttered, shaking his head. “Now I can go find your dumbass ’vibe’.”

You clutched the bulb tighter, glaring up at him. “You’re the dumbass.”

He just grinned. But even with all his smugness, all his teasing, something about him felt different.

Because even though he called you impossible, even though he acted like this was the most annoying thing in the world, he was still doing it. Still helping. Still listening.

“What do you actually want?” he asked, voice slower now. Less teasing.

You blinked up at him.

He met your gaze, unbothered. “You know. The wattage, the lumens, the temperature—”

“…The what?” you said dumbly.

Niragi rolled his eyes. “The brightness. The warmth. The kind of light.”

Your lips parted slightly.

That was… a thing?

He knew all that?

You stared harder.

For some reason, you hadn’t expected this to be something he was good at. It was lightbulbs, for fuck’s sake. And yet, here he was, asking technical shit that you did not know the answer to. Which, admittedly, made you feel kind of stupid.

Your grip tightened around the bulb as you inhaled, turning your gaze back to the lamp. “…I just want it to look good.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is an answer.”

“It’s a shit answer.”

You huffed, shifting your weight. “I just want it to be… softer. Warmer. Not so—so bright—”

“Warmer temp, lower lumens.” Niragi nodded once. “Got it.”

You just blinked again, slightly thrown off by how easy that was for him.

“…Yeah.” You nodded slowly. “That.”

He smirked. “I know.”

You wanted to kick him.

But you didn’t. You just crossed your arms tighter, shifting under his gaze as he grabbed his gun before heading toward the door. “I’ll be back.” he muttered, already turning away.

You rolled your eyes. “Bring me something nice.”

He scoffed. “Like what?”

You grinned. “A surprise.”

Niragi paused for a split second. Then he shook his head, muttering something under his breath before stepping out, the door clicking shut behind him.

You sighed, glancing down at the bulb in your hands before looking back up at the empty socket, staring.

It looked weird like that. Bare. Unfinished.

You didn’t even notice Chishiya come in.

“Something wrong?”

You turned your head just in time to see him step into the kitchen, looking just as calm and put-together as ever, hands in his hoodie pockets.

Your entire posture eased at the sight of him.

He always had that effect on you.

“Morning.” you greeted softly, immediately perking up.

He just gave you a slow nod, eyes drifting toward the chair under the lamp. “Do I want to know?”

You grinned slightly. “It’s fine. I was just fixing it.”

He arched an eyebrow.

You sighed. “I was, but I made Niragi do it.”

Chishiya hummed knowingly, stepping past you toward the counter.

You swayed slightly as you watched him. “I was about to make you breakfast.”

His eyes flicked toward you, just for a second, before looking forward again. “Mm.”

You took that as a yes. Smiling softly, you moved toward the counter, setting the bulb down before grabbing ingredients. “You know, I think Niragi actually knows his shit.” you muttered, rambling as you reached for a pan. “He asked me what kind I wanted, and I didn’t even know lightbulbs had kinds. But he did. He’s out getting one now. He’s still an ass, though. Kept messing with me before he left.”

Chishiya barely reacted. “Sounds right.”

You smiled. “He also took my request for a surprise very seriously.”

He gave you a sideways glance. “You think you’re getting something good?”

You just shrugged. “I think he likes me.”

Chishiya’s expression didn’t change. He just let that thought sit in the air as you started cooking, humming softly to yourself.

He never understood how you did that—how you could switch moods so easily. How you could go from chaos to sweetness without a single moment of hesitation. You were an angel in moments like these, making breakfast for someone who had done nothing but manipulate you, talking like this wasn’t a fucked up situation.

And yet, you were still you.

And right now, you were especially soft with him. You turned your head slightly, glancing at him as you flipped the food in the pan. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

He met your gaze, unbothered. “No.”

Your lips curled up slightly. “Promise?”

His expression didn’t change. “I wouldn’t be here if you had.”

You hummed, nodding slowly as you turned back to the stove. “Good.” you muttered, satisfied.

Chishiya just watched you, quiet, hands still tucked into his hoodie pockets. You were different from earlier. You talked more when you were like this, rambling, making conversation just to fill the air.

Not that he minded.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you much.” you continued, plating the food. “You were gone a lot yesterday.”

Chishiya exhaled through his nose. “Not much to see.”

You pouted slightly as you set the plate in front of him. “I like seeing you.”

His eyes flicked up to yours, his face unreadable as always, but something in his gaze shifted. Something quiet.

You didn’t even seem to notice.

Instead, you just smiled, reaching up to pet his head, fingers running through his soft hair. “You’re too cold sometimes, y’know that?”

Chishiya didn’t react. Didn’t pull away.

He never did.

You let your fingers linger for just a second longer before pulling back, grabbing yourself a glass of water as he sat down. “Did you eat at all yesterday?”

He glanced at his plate, then back at you. “Does it matter?”

You narrowed your eyes. “It does matter.”

He quirked a brow. “To who?”

“To me.”

Chishiya leaned back slightly. “And why’s that?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Because you’re my friend?”

His lips twitched slightly. “You sure?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and eat.”

He gave you an unimpressed look before grabbing his fork.

You sat next to him, bringing your knees to your chest, watching as he took his first bite, chewing slowly. He was never one to rush, always taking his time, analyzing things even when he didn’t need to.

You liked watching him.

Something about the way he carried himself, the way he existed so easily in his own head—it fascinated you.

“What’s wrong with you?” you mused suddenly, tilting your head.

He arched a brow. “Be more specific.”

You grinned slightly. “You don’t get attached to people, do you?”

Chishiya’s chewing slowed.

Your gaze stayed steady, curious, soft.

He swallowed, setting his fork down. “No.”

Your lips pursed slightly. “You say that like it’s normal.”

His expression didn’t change. “It is for me.”

You exhaled through your nose, shifting slightly in your seat. “That’s kinda sad.”

Chishiya’s brows lifted a fraction. “Is it?”

You nodded. “Yeah. No one’s ever made you feel something? Like—actually cared about you?”

He just stared at you.

His silence was louder than words.

Your chest tightened slightly, your fingers gripping your glass a little tighter.

“…That’s not fair.” you muttered.

Chishiya tilted his head. “To who?”

“To you.” you said simply, eyes soft, searching his. “That’s just not fair.”

He didn’t look away. Didn’t even blink. He only exhaled softly, a slow, almost unnoticeable movement, before looking back at his plate.

“…You don’t have to care for me.” he said finally. But it was quiet. Softer than before.

You smiled.

“You say that.” you murmured, reaching out again, brushing your fingers through his hair once more. “But you’re eating my food, aren’t you?”

He didn’t deny it. Didn’t tell you to stop.

That was an answer all on its own.

Your fingers traced gently through Chishiya’s hair, soft and absentminded, but your words were anything but.

“I’m sorry.” you said, voice light, but full of something deeper. “I’m sorry you had to live like that.”

Chishiya’s expression didn’t shift. Not on the surface, at least. But there was something unreadable in his eyes, something quiet.

You pulled your hand back, leaning against the counter. “And before you start,” you continued, anticipating whatever cold dismissal he was about to give. “I don’t mean it in a pity way. So don’t think of it like that.”

He hummed, taking another bite of food, as if that response was enough.

You sighed, tilting your head as you looked at him. “You’re… different. But in a good way.” you said carefully. “You think differently. You see things differently. You’re analytical, you’re smart—”

He huffed a small breath. “Flattery?”

You shook your head. “No. Just the truth.”

He glanced at you, skeptical.

But you weren’t lying.

You never lied to him.

You leaned in slightly, your voice softer. “I don’t think you’re incapable of caring, Chishiya. I think… no one’s ever given you a reason to.”

He stilled for a moment.

Your words settled between you, sinking into him like a weight.

You knew how to talk to people. You always had. You did psychology for fuck’s sake—you knew how the brain worked, how defense mechanisms worked, how he worked. And yet, even knowing all that, even recognizing every wall he put up, every quiet manipulation, every careful detachment—you still cared.

And he knew that.

He wasn’t an idiot. He saw through people too easily for his own good, picked apart their intentions before they even realized them themselves. But with you, there was no motive. No selfish gain. You just meant it.

Chishiya had always known he was different. Even as a child, he had been too quiet, too perceptive, too detached from things that were supposed to matter. While other kids cried when they scraped their knees, he had just stared, fascinated by the blood pooling beneath their skin. While other kids looked for comfort from their parents, he had learned, very quickly, that his parents had nothing to give.

Emotions were irrelevant. Affection was useless. Weak.

So he learned to exist without it.

And for years, that had worked.

He went through school the same way he went through life—observing, learning, excelling, all while keeping himself at a safe distance. He understood people better than they understood themselves, knew what made them tick, knew how to use that.

But he never let them close.

Because why would he?

Affection was a concept he had never been taught, never been given, never needed. He functioned just fine without it.

Until you.

You, who looked at him like he was worth knowing, not just useful. You, who didn’t pull away when he said something cruel, who didn’t shy away from his presence. You, who ran your fingers through his hair and made him breakfast and looked him straight in the eyes and said sweet words.

Chishiya swallowed slowly, setting his fork down.

He didn’t meet your gaze this time.

You watched him carefully, your expression soft. “You’re not some unfeeling machine, y’know.”

He scoffed lightly. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You tilted your head, smiling slightly. “Yeah. You like to think that.”

He didn’t respond.

Didn’t need to.

Because you were right.

Chishiya had spent his whole life believing he was incapable of love, incapable of forming any real attachment, incapable of feeling anything the way other people did. And maybe, for a while, that had been true.

But now? Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Your voice was steady, sweet. “You are amazing, you know that?”

Chishiya barely looked at you, his eyes cast downward as he spun his fork between his fingers. If the words had come from anyone else, he would have dismissed them entirely. But they were coming from you. And that? That was a different kind of problem.

You sighed, shaking your head. “And I don’t just mean smart. I mean you. You’re… unique.”

He gave a small scoff, finally glancing at you. “That’s just another way of saying ‘weird.’”

You shrugged. “Maybe. But I like weird.”

His fingers stilled against the metal fork.

You pushed yourself off the counter, brushing your hands together. “But hey, I’m not gonna force myself on you. Just eat up, alright?”

And with that, you turned, heading toward your room without waiting for a response.

And just like that—he was alone again.

As a child, he was the type of kid who preferred books over people. He never understood why classmates flocked together in tight, desperate groups, why they were so emotionally dependent on each other, why they needed so much. It seemed weak to him. Inefficient.

So he kept to himself.

School was easy. People were easy. Everything was just one big equation, and he had already solved it. A simple balance of power and perception—figure out what people wanted, what they feared, what they needed, and use it. Manipulation wasn’t even a malicious act to him. It was just logic. Strategy. A means to an end.

And it worked.

Always.

He climbed through life easily, acing exams, cutting down competition, proving time and time again that he was better. He didn’t need approval, he didn’t need connection—he needed control.

Because control was safe.

But you—you were something else entirely.

You didn’t want anything from him. You didn’t try to break through his walls, didn’t push or pry or demand the way others did. You just were. You existed around him, with him, and for some fucking reason, he let you.

Chishiya tapped his fingers against the table, staring at the empty spot where you had been just moments before.

His chest felt… weird. Not tight, not painful, just—unfamiliar.

He exhaled sharply, tilting his head back against the chair.

Alone. Again.

That was how he preferred things.

…Right?

You stood below Niragi, arms crossed as you looked up at him perched on the chair, twisting the lightbulb into place.

“Don’t fall.”

He scoffed, sparing you a quick glance. “Tch. I’m not you.”

“I didn’t fall either!”

“You should’ve. That whole tower of death you built was ridiculous.”

“It was efficient.”

“It was fucking stupid.”

You rolled your eyes, watching as he gave the bulb one last turn before pulling his hand away. The soft glow of light bathed the room in a warmer hue, and you tilted your head slightly, inspecting it.

“…It’s kinda nice.” you admitted.

Niragi smirked, stepping down from the chair. “Told you.”

You huffed, glancing toward the counter. “Well, thank you for doing it.”

He chuckled, grabbing the chair and dragging it back to its spot. “Yeah, yeah. You should be grateful you’ve got me around.”

“Oh, so grateful.” you teased, leaning against the counter as he shot you a look.

For a moment, it was quiet between you two, but a good quiet. Comfortable. The glow from the lightbulb cast shadows along the walls, making the whole room feel warmer, softer.

Then Niragi snapped his fingers suddenly, as if remembering something.

“Oh, right.” he said, reaching into his pocket.

You raised a brow. “Huh?”

“The thing.”

You blinked. “What thing?”

“The thing you asked for.”

Your brain scrambled for a moment, trying to recall what the hell he was talking about. You had told him to bring you a surprise, but that was just to mess with him. You never expected him to actually—

He pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it your way. You barely caught it, fumbling with it before looking down at the object in your hands.

It was… a tiny, plastic keychain. Shaped like a cat.

You stared.

Niragi snorted. “The fuck is that face?”

You looked up at him, then back down at the keychain. It was cheap, scratched up, completely useless—and you loved it.

A slow smile spread across your face. “You actually brought me something?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, don’t make it weird.”

You held it up, inspecting it in the light. It was dumb. Utterly useless.

“I love it.”

Niragi’s lips twitched slightly. “You would.”

But beneath his teasing tone, there was something else. Something unfamiliar. He had grabbed the stupid thing on a whim, thinking it was funny, thinking you’d brush it off, thinking he’d have something to tease you about later—but you liked it. Really liked it.

And somehow, that made his chest feel weird. Not in a bad way. Just… weird.

You turned the tiny cat keychain over in your hands, running your fingers along the worn plastic, completely enamored with the stupid little thing.

A delighted laugh bubbled out of you as you held it up, inspecting it under the new warm light. The glow made the tiny scratches on it even more visible, but somehow, that just made you love it even more. It had history.

“Oh my god.” you gasped, grinning as you turned to Niragi. “Look at this little guy. Look at him.”

Niragi watched you, arms crossed, eyebrow quirked. “I see it.”

You clutched it to your chest dramatically. “No, but do you see it?”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Jesus. It’s just a fucking keychain.”

“It’s not just a keychain.” you corrected, beaming as you held it up again. “It’s my keychain.”

Niragi snorted, shaking his head. “God, you’re ridiculous.”

You took a step closer, grinning up at him. “But, seriously, thank you.”

“For what?”

You gestured vaguely. “The light. The cat. Your general existence.”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Don’t start.”

You laughed, rocking on your heels. “What? You want me to be mean to you instead?”

He smirked. “Wouldn’t hurt.”

You huffed, poking his arm playfully. “Fine. You’re insufferable.”

“And?”

You squinted at him. “Fucked in the head.”

“Keep going.”

“A literal nightmare of a human being.”

He grinned. “Now we’re talking.”

You shook your head, still smiling as you rolled the keychain between your fingers. The apartment felt good in that moment—warm, safe, a little less suffocating than usual.

And Niragi… he wasn’t soft, not really. But every once in a while, when he thought you weren’t paying attention, he did things like this.

He didn’t have to fix the light. Didn’t have to bring you anything. And yet, here you were, under a warm glow, holding a tiny plastic cat in your hands like it was the most precious thing in the world.

You glanced up at him again, watching as he pretended he wasn’t watching you.

“…I really do love it.” you said softly.

Niragi clicked his tongue, looking away. “Yeah, yeah.”

You could see it—the slightest tension in his jaw, the way he shifted his weight, the way his lips twitched just barely at the edges.

He liked that you liked it. And that? That made your chest feel a little weird, too.

Niragi side-eyed you, watching the way your lips curled up slightly, how you kept flipping it over like you expected to find something new. It was so stupidly cute, he almost wanted to snatch it back just to see you pout.

“Anyways, I have to go out tonight.” you said casually.

Niragi’s brow twitched. “What?”

“For restocking.” you clarified, slipping the keychain into your pocket. “We’re running low on some stuff, so I have to—”

“Are you kidding me?” Niragi groaned, tilting his head back in frustration. “Now you say this?”

You blinked at him. “…Yeah?”

His eye twitched. “You could’ve told me earlier, and I just would’ve gone with you then. Instead, I went out in the middle of the fucking day—for lightbulbs.”

You grinned. “And you did a great job.”

“Fuck off.”

You laughed as he ran a hand down his face.

“Come on, it’s not that bad.” you teased. “Look at it this way—at least you got to enjoy a nice, peaceful trip without my constant chattering.”

Niragi shot you a look. “Yeah, I hated it.”

You smirked. “Aww, you missed me?”

He clicked his tongue, glancing away. “Shut up.”

You giggled, opening one of the cabinets to take inventory of what you needed. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me tonight.”

He scoffed. “Like that was even a question.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “So that’s a yes?”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Obviously. You think I’m just gonna let you go out there alone?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I have gone alone before, you know.”

He snorted. “Yeah? And how’d that work out for you?”

You hesitated. Okay, so maybe there had been a few close calls. Not anything you couldn’t handle, but still.

Niragi smirked, catching your hesitation. “Exactly.” he drawled. “You’re a fucking magnet for trouble.”

You pouted. “Am not.”

“Are too.” he shot back. “You could walk into an empty fucking alley, and I guarantee you’d still manage to find some kind of bullshit waiting for you.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “You make it sound like I try to get into trouble.”

Niragi leaned against the counter, grinning lazily. “Oh, you definitely do.”

“Whatever.” you muttered. “Just be ready to go after dark.”

He scoffed. “Like I wouldn’t be.”

You smiled as you turned back to the cabinets. Even with all his bitching, you knew he didn’t really mind. If anything, he liked having an excuse to go with you.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

The streets were eerily empty. Broken glass, torn banners, and abandoned cars lined the roads, all remnants of a world that didn’t exist anymore. The city felt like a ghost—hollow, still, waiting for something that was never going to come.

“You literally could’ve warned me.” you huffed, shaking your head as you nudged Niragi’s arm.

He grinned, swinging the flashlight lazily at the ground in front of him. “Oh, where’s the fun in that?”

“The fun,” you deadpanned. “would’ve been me not stepping into a fucking pothole.”

Niragi let out a sharp laugh. “You should’ve been watching where you were going.”

“You were leading!”

“And?”

You groaned dramatically. “God, you are insufferable.”

“Yeah, yeah.” he muttered, flashing the light in your face briefly before you smacked his arm.

“Hey!”

He snickered. “What? Just making sure you’re still awake.”

“You are so annoying.” you grumbled, but there was no real bite to it.

Chishiya, who had been walking slightly behind you both, was silent as usual, watching. Listening. Niragi was good at pulling your attention away from everything else, keeping you focused only on him. It was his favorite thing to do.

But you—you were always aware of him, of everything. Even while bickering with Niragi, you still turned back, slowing your steps just slightly to look at him.

“Hey, Chishiya, look at this.” you said suddenly, crouching down beside an overgrown crack in the pavement.

He raised an eyebrow as you reached out, carefully plucking a tiny flower growing stubbornly between the slabs of broken concrete.

“It’s so cute.” you said softly, twirling the delicate stem between your fingers.

Chishiya didn’t say anything, just studied you, the way your lips curled up slightly, the way your fingers were careful, gentle.

You held it out to him, grinning. “Here, for you.”

Chishiya blinked, then exhaled. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

You pouted dramatically, standing up. “Appreciate it, obviously.”

Niragi clicked his tongue. “Tch. Are you seriously giving him some shitty little weed?”

You turned back to him, still smiling. “It’s not a weed. It’s a flower.”

“It’s ugly.”

“You’re ugly.” you shot back.

Niragi smirked. “You wish.”

You ignored him, turning back to Chishiya, who just sighed and took the flower from your hand, twirling it between his fingers for a second before tucking it into his pocket.

Satisfied, you beamed before returning to Niragi’s side.

“Finally.” he grumbled. “I thought I lost you to the nerd back there.”

You snorted. “You’re so dramatic.”

He swung the flashlight toward your legs, tapping your thigh with it. “That’s mine, by the way.”

“What?”

He poked you again. “The flashlight. It’s mine.”

“I found it first.”

“Yeah? And who’s holding it?” He waved it in your face.

You huffed. “You stole it.”

“Finders keepers, baby.”

“That is not how that works!”

“It is now.”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “You are such a child.”

“You’re following me around like a lost puppy.” he teased, flashing the light at the ground ahead of you.

You kicked at the back of his leg lightly. “Shut up.”

Chishiya watched you both, hands in his pockets as he walked a few steps behind, letting Niragi soak in all of your attention—for now. But he noticed things. The way Niragi was always just slightly closer than necessary, how his hand hovered near yours even though he never reached for it, how he used the flashlight to poke you just to get any kind of reaction.

He wanted you all to himself.

Chishiya let a small smirk pull at his lips. How predictable.

You, completely oblivious to the silent battle happening behind your back, turned your attention forward, eyes scanning the abandoned stores up ahead.

Niragi sticked out his foot in the middle of one of your steps.

You didn’t even have time to react before your balance tilted forward, and with a sharp gasp, you stumbled. But before you could fall, you caught yourself, spinning around to face him with wide, betrayed eyes.

“You bitch!” you gasped, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Niragi burst into laughter, throwing his head back as he clutched his stomach. “Oh my god—your face—!”

“You tripped me!”

“Yeah? And?”

Before he could react, you swung your leg out, aiming to knock his foot from under him the same way he did to you. But Niragi was quick—annoyingly quick. He sidestepped easily, grinning down at you like he knew you were too slow for him.

You huffed, planting your hands on your hips. “Coward.”

“Loser.”

Wit a growl of frustration, you tried again, stepping closer to kick at his ankle—but Niragi was already ready for it. He reached out this time, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward just enough to throw you off balance instead. Your feet scrambled against the cracked pavement before you caught yourself again, but it was too late. Niragi was already dying of laughter.

You launched yourself at him, tackling him with all the force you could manage, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling as hard as you could.

He stumbled, caught off guard, his laughter cutting short as he struggled to keep his balance. “Hey—!”

But you didn’t let up, using all of your weight to keep pulling him off center—until finally, his foot hit an uneven part of the sidewalk, and he went down.

Hard.

The second his back hit the ground, you jumped back, throwing your arms in the air like you had just won a wrestling match. “HAH!”

Niragi groaned from the ground, blinking up at the dark sky. “What the fuck?”

“You deserved that!” you said proudly, grinning down at him. “That’s what you get!”

But before you could bask in your victory for too long, Niragi reached out and hooked his arm around your ankle, yanking hard.

And just like that, you were falling too.

You landed with a loud oof, your back hitting the pavement right next to him.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

And then you lost it. Laughter bubbled up in your chest, spilling out in bright, gasping giggles that you couldn’t stop. You turned your head to look at him, and Niragi was laughing too, chest shaking as he sucked in sharp breaths between each laugh.

It was stupid. The whole thing was stupid.

But god, it felt good.

You wiped at your eyes, still giggling, turning onto your side to look at him fully. Niragi did the same, facing you with a shit-eating grin that matched yours.

“You suck.” you wheezed.

“You suck.” he shot back, nudging you with his knee.

You stuck your tongue out at him.

Chishiya, watching all of this from a few steps behind, felt something sharp twist inside his chest.

Jealousy was an ugly thing.

Not just at the fact that Niragi was the one next to you, making you laugh so hard you were crying—but at the fact that you were happy.

If you and Niragi were capable of feeling happiness in this miserable fucking world, then why couldn’t he?

His eyes lingered on you, watching the way you reached out to push Niragi’s shoulder, the way your nose scrunched up when you smiled so hard it nearly hurt.

And he wondered—if he was the one by your side, making you laugh, making you smile like that…

Would he be happy too?

Would he even know what happiness felt like?

He shoved the thought away stepping closer. “Are you two done rolling around in the dirt, or should I come back later?”

You turned your head, still giggling as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “You’re just mad you weren’t invited.”

Chishiya let out a small huff, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Hardly.”

Niragi sat up, stretching his arms behind his head as he grinned. “Yeah? ‘Cause I think you are.”

Chishiya didn’t respond. He just looked at you, still lying on the pavement with flushed cheeks and a bright, glowing expression.

And yeah, maybe he was jealous.

He turned on his heel and started walking, making it clear he wasn’t waiting for either of you.

Niragi scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Fucking prick.” he muttered, standing up and dusting off his pants before reaching a hand down to you.

Still giggling, you took his hand without hesitation, letting him pull you up in one smooth motion. “Thanks.”

He just clicked his tongue, like he didn’t care, but his grip lingered a little longer than necessary before he let go.

The second you were on your feet, you took off—practically sprinting after Chishiya.

“Hey, wait up!” you called, running to catch up to his side. “Why are you walking so fast?”

Chishiya kept his eyes forward, jaw tight. “Didn’t realize we were stopping for playtime.”

You huffed, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Oh, please. You know you liked watching us fight to the death.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t see how attempting to kill each other on the pavement is a good use of time.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” you teased, nudging him again.

He sighed through his nose. He couldn’t be mad at you like this, could he?

You, with your bright eyes and your breathless smile, so full of energy even in this dead city. You, who had just spent minutes rolling around on the pavement, laughing so hard you could barely breathe, and still had the nerve to come bouncing up to him as if he hadn’t spent the entire time stewing in jealousy.

No.

He could never be angry at you.

“Come on.” you whined, looping your arm through his without a second thought. “Don’t be grumpy. You get to walk with me, isn’t that a privilege?”

Chishiya arched a brow. “A privilege?”

“Yes.” you said seriously. “An honor, actually.”

He scoffed, but he didn’t pull away.

Behind you, Niragi made a disgusted noise. “Gross.” he muttered, dragging his feet as he followed. “You’re gross. Both of you.”

You just giggled, squeezing Chishiya’s arm before letting go.

And as much as he didn’t want to admit it—he kind of missed the warmth of you next to him the second you did.

Niragi had his flashlight in hand, lazily swinging it back and forth, not even bothering to aim it at the road ahead.

Before he could react, you lunged forward and flicked the flashlight beam directly into his face.

Niragi hissed, throwing an arm up to shield himself. “What the fuck?”

You snorted, holding back laughter as you kept the light steady on him. He flicked his own flashlight at you, shining it right into your eyes in retaliation.

“AHH!” you shrieked, flailing back dramatically. “Niragi! That’s cheating!”

“Cheating? You started it, dumbass.”

“You’re supposed to accept my attack like a noble warrior—”

“You blinded me, not stabbed me with a sword, you fucking idiot.” he snorted, but there was no real malice in his tone.

You giggled and swung the flashlight up again, flashing it right in his face. “Bam!”

“Fucking—” Niragi barely flinched this time before shining his right back at you.

For a few seconds, it was nothing but the two of you flicking lights at each other’s faces, stepping back and forth, cackling like children. Niragi was determined to win somehow, even though there were no real rules, and you were just thrilled at the fact that he was playing along.

Chishiya was still walking, hands in his pockets, not looking at you two.

He told himself it was annoying. Told himself it was a waste of time. You were in the middle of a dead city, risking your lives just by stepping outside, and instead of being serious, you were fucking around.

But his fingers twitched in his pockets.

Because he knew that wasn’t really why his chest felt tight.

It was you.

The way you laughed, bright and breathless, unbothered by everything. The way Niragi grinned at you, softer than usual. The way you looked at each other like you were actually happy, like you were living in a world that wasn’t already doomed.

And Chishiya hated that it wasn’t him making you smile like that.

He had never cared before.

He didn’t like it.

And yet, he found himself slowing down, just slightly, turning around to watch you two play with those damn flashlights, trying to tell himself that none of this mattered.

Trying to convince himself that he didn’t want what you had with Niragi.

That he didn’t want you.

The door swung open, and the three of you stepped inside. The apartment was dim, barely lit by the yellow glow of the lightbulb Niragi had installed earlier, casting long shadows across the walls.

Niragi wasted no time tossing his gun onto the couch, stretching his arms above his head with a lazy groan. “Fuck.”

You set your things down on the counter, barely able to catch your breath between fits of laughter. “No, but seriously, you should’ve seen your face—”

“My face? What about yours?” Niragi shot back, jabbing a finger at you as he leaned against the counter beside you. His grin was wide, teeth glinting under the dim light. “You were the one who tripped and ate shit right into that pile of rubble—”

You doubled over, gripping the edge of the counter to keep yourself upright. “Oh my god, Niragi, that was your fault! You pushed me!”

“Bullshit! You fell on your own.”

“I literally felt your foot hook around my ankle—”

“You’re making shit up.”

“You’re delusional—”

The two of you were practically in tears, shoulders shaking with laughter, voices bouncing off the walls of the apartment. It had been a long time since you felt this light—since you felt anything other than the crushing weight of survival. And maybe it was stupid, maybe it was reckless, but right now, you didn’t care.

Chishiya, however, was quiet.

He stood by the door, watching the two of you, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He had been silent the entire way home, but now, in the dim light of the apartment, that silence felt heavier.

BANG.

The sound cracked through the apartment like a whip, cutting through your laughter so sharply it felt like the air had been sucked from the room. Your breath hitched in your throat as your entire body went rigid, the sound ringing in your ears.

Your eyes snapped to Chishiya.

Smoke curled from the barrel of Niragi’s gun, his fingers still wrapped around the trigger.

And then—slowly, with a sickening kind of horror—your gaze drifted to Niragi.

His body swayed, the color draining from his face, and for a second, it was like time had stopped. The sharp scent of gunpowder burned your nose, but all you could focus on was the way his lips parted in a breathless, disbelieving sound.

And then you saw it.

The dark stain blooming across his side. The way his fingers twitched as he reached down, pressing against the wound like he could somehow stop it from being real. His breathing came sharp and uneven, his body finally catching up to the pain.

Your stomach lurched.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

Chishiya shot Niragi.

❤︎︎ @lizntstoptalking @cherryheairt @fiction-fantasy-folks @monkey4lifer @psychicyouthfox @so-dramatic1 @mypsychoticlove @unhinged-sorcerer @rattymess @mocchii-writes @adanfore @scarlet703 @fluentgoddess @maxinehufflepuffprincess @onyxmango @bluerthanvelvet444 @risingofjupiter @enhasrii @potato-vagina

#alice in borderland #aib chishiya #aib niragi #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #niragi suguru #niragi x reader #niragi alice in borderland

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grandline-fics · 2 days ago

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Love Potion

DESCRIPTION: Love Potion- You were both only pretending to date. The feelings aren't real...right?

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Smoker

WORDS: 1,663

A/N: Thank you @missrandomdreamer for requesting this one for the Valentine's Event. Hope you like what I came up with for this one, Smoker deserves the love so hopefully I did him justice on this. As always thank you everyone for your support. Enjoy ♥️

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST

———————

“Is this really necessary?” Smoker grumbled around the cigars in his mouth as he shut the door to your room closed firmly. “I’m in perfect shape.”

“Every active member on this base has to undergo routine physicals, Vice-Admiral.” You spoke up from your desk as you grabbed his file and a pen. Even when he was wounded he protested the need to be tended to and while you were already expecting him to clear all your checks with no issues, you still had your job to do. Apologetically you looked at him as you rose. “No exceptions.”

Smoker made a disgruntled noise and glared at the examination bed he’d yet to approach. He swiftly turned his glare your way when you snatched the cigars from his mouth with ease and stubbed them out on the ashtray you always made sure to have in the room in the event Smoker would be coming by. You accepted his ire with an effortless smile, used to his perpetual grumpy and serious expression at this point. Lightly you nudged him along towards the bed. With all his strength and training he could have remained rooted in the spot had he wished but at your touch he relented and moved, eager to just get this over with.

As he sat down and zoned out, letting you do whatever checks and assessments necessary he began to think about how being here was actually a nice break. You weren’t going to pester him about changing the training schedule or beg to swap missions with another member of the base, you weren’t going to chase him about reports he forgot-or just didn’t care about- handing in for the higher ups at Marine’s main Headquarters. Best of all, any conversation you shared with him was appropriate and never prying beyond clear boundaries, unlike those under his command who thought any facet and avenue in his life was theirs to know and analyse obsessively over. Suddenly you made a surprised hum and he pulled himself out of his thoughts to see you studying his face carefully. “What were you thinking about?”

“Why?” Smoker couldn’t help but become defensive, ready to argue that whatever you spotted or noticed in your tests was false.

“It caused a spike in your otherwise steady blood pressure.” You explained, lips curving in slight amusement. Lightly you tapped your medical notes. “Can’t clear you if there’s a possibility of an underlying condition affecting your blood pressure or an area of stress that could hinder your work.”

“It’s nothing.” Smoker explained firmly. “Nothing for you to worry over. I’m not going to complain over something insignificant and stupid.”

“Wouldn’t call this spike insignificant. Come on tell me and I can help. It’s what doctors are for right?”

“I was getting annoyed about the subordinates prying into my personal life. They’re like gossiping teenagers sometimes.”

“Is that all?” You asked with a laugh, stepping away from him and unhooking the blood pressure monitor. “What do you expect? They’re bored in between missions and you’re the best source of entertainment on the base.

“I shouldn’t be entertainment, I’m their boss to be respected.” At that you snorted with an undignified burst of laughter causing him to frown. “What?”

“Oh come on! I’ve heard you swear out the higher ups countless times when they annoy you. You call that respect?” You teased, laughing again when he looked away from you and muttered about how even you were disrespectful to him. “So what did the bad subordinates pry into most recently.”

“Recently and consistently they bring up my love life or in their words ‘a tragic lack of’ one.” He scoffed. “Every mission it’s putting up with their incessant questions and on the way back it’s stupid schemes to set me up with someone.”

“It’s sweet that they care.” You reasoned only to hear him being to mutter again. With a soft sigh you grabbed his notes to update them. He was the picture of health as you both knew would be the end result. “But if it bothers you that much, take the mystery away from them and they’ll move on. Tell them you’re seeing someone.”

“Magic someone out of thin air?” Smoker shook his head. He shouldn’t have even entertained the notion. His life was his own, he didn’t need to lie or divulge information if he didn’t wish to. “They might act like fools but creating a pretend lover is something even they’d notice a mile off.”

“Sooo don’t make up someone. Use someone they know?” You advised, moving to your desk to officially give Smoker’s physical the stamp of approval needed. Seeing you move, Smoker fixed his jacket and pulled out two fresh cigars to light but for once he didn’t make his way to the door with a gruff ‘thanks Doc’ like he normally did, he was too caught up in your words as you continued. “Then after a couple weeks, stage a break up and they’ll leave you and your personal life alone while you deal with it in your own way.”

“Who am I going to rope into this scheme that I know won’t blab what’s really going on?” Smoker asked while stepping closer to the desk. His interest was piqued and it seemed like a solid enough plan but he knew that gossip spread fast in the G5 base. The last thing he needed was to risk extra insult to his pride if his subordinates knew he was lying. Smoker was surprised when you lifted your head and smiled at him expectantly. “Wait. You’d go along with this?”

“Why not? Helps you out from getting your blood pressure dangerously high again.” You shrugged simply. “Besides, doctor-patient confidentiality means I can’t tell anyone. What do you say?”

A few minutes later one of the G5 Marines rounded the corner, preparing for his routine physical only to slide to a complete stop in shock. The sight of Vice-Admiral Smoker, his leader straightening from what was most certainly a kiss with the base’s top doctor. The Marine froze when Smoker turned sharply to glare at him while you bit your lower lip shyly and looked away from the wide-eyed gaze of the Marine who interrupted such a sweet and tender moment. Smoker dropped his hand from your lower back and walked towards the Marine. “Whatever you think you saw. You didn’t.”

Smoker continued on his way, the Marine unable to see his smirk as everything was already set in motion. By the end of the afternoon it was all through the base, some iterations of the events witnessed exaggerated or completely different but it all got Smoker what he wanted; for his subordinates to have something to distract them from him. Technically they were still fixated on him, but now that they believed he was seeing you, they were now talking amongst themselves about the matter and leaving him alone.

Throughout the day he’d overheard the conversations both mixed and speculative. Some tried to work out when the romance had started and even that split theories and opinions. It had to have been recent because there was no way you both had hidden it for so long. It had to have been going on for a long time because it would explain why Smoker never looked at anyone else both off and on base. Some even declared they’d always known something was going on between Smoker and you and either way it was about damn time.

For the next few weeks you and Smoker continued your subtle theatrics of being a couple and as you’d predicted the base that now there was no mystery to work out with Smoker’s love life, the base asked less questions. However when you appeared, even if it was passing by in the corridor the Marines looked your way in curiosity. Sometimes you did steal him away to say something useless or unimportant, just so you both appeared to be sharing a quick moment together when really it was just to keep your audience’s interest sated. One evening you found yourself in Smoker’s office, a new development that had occurred from your joint deception. While he finished reports at his desk, you reviewed your own medical reports from the comfort of the sofa he rarely seemed to use. While you both worked you engaged in idle but content conversation.

“A friend of mine from one of the G7 base was in touch today.” You spoke up with an amused smile, not taking your eyes from your notes as you worked. “We’re one of the topics of conversation there too.” Smoker chuckled slightly at your report of how far the gossip had spread.

“The interest in our relationship hasn’t died down at all.” He said with a small shake of his head.

“They’re so invested. They’ll be heartbroken when we end things.” You mused, too busy reading to notice Smoker's hand still in the writing of his own reports. He only now realised that that was the next stage in the plan; breaking up to gain full privacy again. Smoker hesitated to even admit it but he truly did enjoy your company. You were easy to be around, brought him a certain calm that he enjoyed. He tensed slightly when you asked him. “Have you considered when it’ll happen?”

“Uh…no. Not yet.” He admitted, that much he could confess. “They gossip but they're behaving for the most part, might just wait until they start to get bored. If that’s okay?”

“Of course, just let me know whenever you’re ready.” Smoker glanced at you in time to see you finally glance his way and offer him a relaxed but warm smile. The same smile he found himself looking for a little more each day. Whenever he was ready? Something gnawed at him in the uncomfortable realisation that perhaps the only thing he wanted to end with you was the pretending.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya , @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall , @redwolfxx , @jevoislesbrasdemer , @schanwow , @pao198391 , @glitchtricks94 , @nina-ya , @48daisies , @sagyunaro , @artemis162534 , @rosemary-lungs , @thecraftywriter , @rorozorolover , @yagirlsmuchelle , @engenemoazen , @sukunasstomachtongue , @nico-ith

#one piece #one piece scenario #one piece fic #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagines #grandline fics valentines event #one piece x reader #one piece x you #smoker x you #smoker x reader #one piece smoker #white hunter smoker #vice admiral smoker x reader #vice admiral smoker #vice admiral smoker x you #smoker op #smoker one piece #op smoker

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loveesiren · 6 hours ago

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𝖢𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖬𝗒 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 (𝖯𝗍. 3)

Choi Seunghyun x f!reader x Kwon Jiyong | Masterlist

a/n: This part is longggg, but here's part three! I hope you guys enjoy. I feel like I'm moving past this hump and can finally get into the fucking terrible shit I have planned lol.

synopsis: Y/n and Seunghyun are finally official. But Jiyong begins to struggle with his true emotions between his best friend and his best friends girlfriend

warnings: angst, language, mentions of sex

wc: 5k+

You’d barely seen Jiyong over the last few days. If he was in the building, he was everywhere except where you were. You were grateful for that—grateful that you didn’t have to sit through another one of his cold stares or the snide remarks he loved to throw your way. It was easier this way.

Seunghyun, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Every chance he got, he was near you, talking to you, looking for an excuse to keep you company. He asked to see your sketches, offered to help with anything you needed, even brought you coffee without you asking.

“Aren’t I technically the one who works for you?” you mused, a small smile tugging at your lips as he handed you the cup.

He grinned, settling down beside you. “You’re our stylist, Y/n, not our assistant. You have one of the most important jobs here.”

“Is that so?” You arched a brow, amused by his enthusiasm.

“Yeah. I mean, without you, I’d be going out on stage like this.” He leaned back, motioning to his current outfit—gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, a well-worn Pink Floyd t-shirt hugging his frame. His hair was still damp from a recent shower, slightly tousled, and the scent of his cologne lingered in the air between you.

You bit your lip, eyes dragging over him before you could stop yourself. You liked him like this—casual, comfortable, completely unbothered.

“Miss Y/l/n,” Seunghyun smirked, his voice teasing. “Are you checking me out?”

Your cheeks burned instantly. “I-uh…” You scrambled for a response, but nothing came.

He laughed, leaning in just slightly. “I’m just teasing you.” A beat passed before he added, voice softer, “But I wouldn’t mind if you were.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through your chest, and you found yourself laughing with him.

A sharp knock at the studio door interrupted the moment.

“Yo, lovebirds.”

Your stomach twisted at the sound of Jiyong’s voice. His tone was laced with something unreadable, but his expression gave nothing away as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. The moment your eyes met his, your smile faltered.

“Sorry to break it up, but YG’s looking for you,” he said, directing his words at Seunghyun.

Seunghyun let out a dramatic sigh but stood without hesitation. “Wait for me? So I can walk you to your car?”

You nodded, offering a small smile. He returned it before jogging out of the room.

Jiyong, however, didn’t move. He lingered, eyes scanning over you with something close to scrutiny. The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Seems like things are going well,” he said, voice dripping with something sharp.

You swallowed. “Uhm, yeah… Thank you. For not telling him, I mean.”

Jiyong sighed, finally pushing himself off the doorframe and sauntering into the room. He flopped onto the couch behind you, stretching out like he had nowhere better to be.

“Yeah, well…” He exhaled, running his fingers over the rings on his hand. “You’re not worth losing my best friend over.”

The words stung more than you wanted to admit. But they weren’t untrue. Seunghyun didn’t deserve to get caught in the crossfire of whatever dysfunctional thing you and Jiyong had once been.

“He’s gonna ask you out again, by the way,” Jiyong muttered, his fingers fidgeting with the silver bands. “He doesn’t shut up about you.”

Your lips twitched slightly, despite yourself.

Jiyong saw the expression you tried to hide and rolled his eyes. He hated you. At least, that’s what he told himself. The two of you always had problems, always found a reason to fight. It had been that way for years.

But lately… something was different.

Ever since that last night you spent tangled in your sheets, your nails dragging down his back as you moaned his name. Ever since you looked him in the eyes and told him you were done.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you.

Normally, he’d start a fight. He’d push your buttons, get under your skin, rile you up until you were breathless with frustration. Because he knew the more he pissed you off, the needier you’d get for him. It was a cycle. A toxic, fucked-up cycle.

But now? What was the point?

He could be cruel, sure. Tell everyone the truth. But where would that leave him? You weren’t his to take his frustration out on anymore. He’d handed you to Seunghyun on a silver fucking platter.

And for the first time, he felt hollow.

The door creaked open again. “Wow, the two of you in the same room without screaming? Are pigs flying?”

Seunghyun’s voice was light, teasing, but Jiyong stood immediately, forcing out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, I just finished yelling at her about the stupid outfit she’s designing for me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I like the outfit you’re designing for him,” Seunghyun said, smiling down at you as he approached.

You met his gaze, something apologetic in your expression. Every time the two of them were in the same room, your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of your secret pressing against your ribs.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Seunghyun asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You blinked, then nodded. “Yeah! Of course.” Quickly, you shut your sketchbook, stuffing it into your bag.

Seunghyun held out his hand, and you hesitated only for a second before lacing your fingers with his. His palm was warm against yours. The two of you walked in comfortable silence through the building, the cool night air greeting you as you stepped outside.

When you reached your car, Seunghyun moved ahead, opening the door for you. His fingers lingered against the edge of the window frame as he leaned in slightly, resting his chin on his arms. His eyes traced over your face, soft and admiring.

“Would you like to go out with me again?” His voice was steady, more confident this time.

You smiled wide. “I’d like that.”

His lips curled into a grin. “You free Saturday?”

“As long as I finish up these sketches.”

“Well, get to sketching then. I’ll pick you up around eleven.”

“A.M.? Where are you taking me?” you giggled.

“Somewhere special.” He winked. “Drive safe.”

Before you could react, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. Then, just as quickly, he backed away, smiling as he watched you drive off.

From across the parking lot, Jiyong watched, a bitter taste settling on his tongue. He exhaled a slow breath of smoke, making his way over to Seunghyun.

“What’d she say?” He tried to sound casually curious, not completely jealous.

“She said yes.” Seunghyun’s eyes remained locked on your disappearing car, his voice filled with something close to wonder. “Come on, let’s go celebrate.” He clapped Jiyong’s shoulder.

Jiyong scoffed, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “We’re celebrating you asking a girl out on a date?”

“Not just any girl, Ji. Y/n!” Seunghyun’s smile was soft. “I’ve been into her for years. Just never had the confidence to ask her out until now.”

Jiyong knew that. He had always known. The first time he had you, he’d felt sick about it—knowing how much Seunghyun admired you.

But that night, when you had screamed his name like he was the only thing that mattered—he had started to understand why his best friend was so into you.

Jiyong exhaled, flicking his cigarette to the ground. “First round’s on me, then.”

And with that, he slung an arm over his best friend’s shoulder, heading toward the bar—swallowing his jealousy like another shot of whiskey.

Once again, you tore clothes from the hangers, trying them on and discarding them just as quickly. Frustration bubbled inside you—how were you supposed to pick the perfect outfit when Seunghyun refused to tell you where he was taking you?

You had texted him the night before, practically pleading for a hint. All he had given you was cute and casual. As if that didn’t encompass a million different possibilities.

With a sigh, you finally settled on a black skirt and tights, a gray sweater, and chunky black heels. You grabbed your red Prada bag and made your way to the mirror to assess your look. Casual—but not too casual. A balance between effortless and put-together. You could blend in just about anywhere.

After styling your hair into loose curls and adorning yourself with delicate silver jewelry, your phone vibrated. A hopeful smile tugged at your lips as you reached for it, expecting a message from Seunghyun. But the moment you saw the sender, your heart sank.

YG: GD and Taeyang need their hair done by Monday for an interview.

You exhaled sharply, rolling your eyes. There was little you wanted to do less than spend time with Jiyong. But work was work. Tamping down your irritation, you typed a quick response: I’m out of town today, but I can squeeze them in tomorrow.

Before you could dwell on it, the doorbell rang.

Excitement replaced disappointment as you rushed to answer it, a warm flutter in your chest. Swinging the door open, you found Seunghyun standing there, his signature smile in place, holding yet another flower—this time, a pink lily.

“Hi,” you greeted, your voice tinged with a shy warmth as you leaned against the doorframe.

“Hi.” His deep voice was soft, affectionate.

You took the lily from his hand, bringing it to your nose to inhale its delicate scent. He always did this—always brought you something new. A small, thoughtful gesture that never failed to make your heart stutter.

“Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to your outfit, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

His dark eyes swept over you, appreciation flickering across his features before he met your eyes again. “You look perfect,” he murmured. The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch.

Your lips curled into a smile. “One sec!” You darted to the kitchen, carefully placing the lily in the vase where the growing collection of flowers sat on your counter. The sight of them, a soft blend of colors and petals, made your chest tighten with something unfamiliar yet undeniably warm.

Returning to the door, you slipped your hand into his as he offered it to you, his fingers wrapping around yours in a way that felt both natural and reassuring. He led you to the sleek black car waiting at the curb.

Ever the gentleman, Seunghyun opened the door for you, helping you inside before circling around to slide in beside you before he told the driver where to go.

“Royal treatment today?” you teased, raising a playful brow.

He chuckled, reaching for the bottle of wine nestled in ice between you. “Can’t drink and drive,” he said, pouring you a glass. The deep red liquid shimmered under the soft interior lights as he handed it to you. “Wine?”

You accepted with a grin, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. The rich, velvety taste lingered on your tongue, unfamiliar yet decadent.

You hadn’t experienced such a luxury in a long time. Sure, Jiyong had the same access to these things, but never once were you worth it to him. You were there when he needed to take his frustrations out, that was it. Never worth a date.

You pushed thoughts of Jiyong aside, unwilling to let him taint the moment.

“So,” you said, tilting your head with curiosity, “are you finally going to tell me where we’re going?”

Seunghyun laughed, shaking his head. “Patience isn’t your strong suit, is it, Y/n?”

“Nah, not really,” you admitted with a smirk.

“Well,” he began, swirling the wine in his glass, “I’m taking you to an art museum. A new one that just opened a few months ago. I haven’t had the chance to go yet, and I figured it’d be more exciting with the company of a pretty woman.”

Your heart fluttered. He remembered. He had noticed the vibrant artwork that adorned your walls, had paid attention when you talked about your love for design. Art was always something the two of you could connect over.

“That sounds perfect,” you said, voice softer now.

“Good,” he replied, his lips curving into a pleased smile. “And, if you’re not too sick of me by the end of the day, I made dinner reservations.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the giddy warmth spreading through you.

It had been so long since someone had treated you like this—with patience, with intention, with genuine care.

Seunghyun made your heart feel something you hadn’t in a long time. Safe.

Excited for the day ahead, you clinked your glass against his once more. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of you.”

His gaze held yours for a moment longer than necessary before he chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.”

Seunghyun’s hand was warm in yours as the two of you wandered through the museum, the rhythmic click of your heels against the polished floor the only sound between murmured conversations and the soft classical music playing overhead. Every so often, his fingers would graze your shoulder, a light, fleeting touch on the small of your back as you both stopped in front of different paintings, soaking in the stories they told.

You could feel his gaze on you, more often than on the art, but you pretended not to notice.

“I think this one is my favorite,” Seunghyun said finally, his voice carrying a quiet reverence.

You turned to see him standing before an oil painting of a woman seated on the edge of an ocean cliff, the sea stretching endlessly before her. The wind played through her hair, her eyes closed, her lips curved in an effortless, serene smile. There was something ethereal about her—like she existed in a moment of pure, untainted happiness.

You swallowed. You wondered if you would ever feel that free.

“Why this one?” you asked softly.

He tilted his head, studying the piece a moment longer before answering. “Reminds me of you.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you turned to him. “It does?”

“Yeah.” He glanced down at you, the corner of his lips tugging into a small smile. “Beautiful. Carefree. Innocent.”

Your stomach twisted, and before you could stop yourself, you bit your lip. Innocent. If only he knew.

“I’m not that innocent, Seunghyun…” you murmured, eyes dropping to the floor.

He turned to fully face you, his presence grounding. “We’ve all made mistakes in the past. That doesn’t take away from who you are now.” His voice was steady, assured, as if there was no room for debate.

You hesitated before looking up at him. His eyes, dark and unwavering behind his glasses, searched yours. And yet, you couldn't hold his gaze for long. Your heart pounded at the unspoken truths pressing against your ribs—the weight of Jiyong, the memories of tangled sheets and burning touches, of moans swallowed by hungry lips. And here you were now, standing beside his best friend, holding his hand like you weren’t carrying secrets that could ruin everything.

“I-I’m scared that if you knew about my past,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper, “you wouldn’t like me anymore. Not even as a friend.”

Seunghyun exhaled, his fingers gently squeezing yours. “I have a past too, Y/n.” His voice softened. “Nothing could make me not like you.”

You searched his face for any hint of hesitation, but there was none. Only sincerity. Only warmth.

Swallowing thickly, you forced a smile. You weren’t ready to tell him everything—not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Come on,” he said, giving your hand another squeeze before pulling you toward the next room.

You let yourself follow him, forcing away the gnawing guilt in your stomach.

By the time you reached the last exhibit, your stomach growled loud enough to make Seunghyun chuckle.

“So,” he teased, turning to you with a smirk, “are you sick of me yet?”

“Never.” You smiled, meaning it.

“Good,” he grinned, slipping his arm around your waist as he guided you toward the exit. “Because I’m starving. Let’s go to dinner.”

You were still laughing when the car pulled up to the restaurant, but as soon as you saw where he had brought you, your breath caught in your throat.

Jungsik.

Your lips parted in disbelief. The elegant gold-lettered sign gleamed under the city lights. It was one of the most luxurious restaurants in Seoul—where only the elite dined, where reservations were booked months in advance, where the price of a single meal could make your rent look laughable.

“Seunghyun…” you started, turning to him. “We can’t eat here.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “Why not?”

“This place is so expensive and I—I’m underdressed.” You gestured to your casual sweater and boot-like heels, suddenly feeling out of place.

He shook his head, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “You look beautiful.” His voice left no room for argument. “And don’t worry about the money. Order whatever you want.”

You exhaled, reluctantly following him inside, but the moment you stepped through the doors, the discomfort settled deep in your bones.

The hosts immediately recognized Seunghyun, their professional composure faltering as excitement flickered in their eyes. Still, they kept their voices steady, ushering you toward a private room. But the way their gazes flickered to you, the subtle downturn of their lips, didn’t go unnoticed.

You knew that look.

It was the same look people always gave when they saw a woman with a man like him. A silent judgment, a question they didn’t dare to voice.

What is she doing with him?

Seunghyun, seemingly oblivious, held your hand firmly as you entered the intimate dining space. He pulled out your chair for you, his touch lingering as you sat down.

“This is really nice,” you admitted, looking around at the dimly lit room, the perfectly set table, the candlelight flickering between you. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I wanted to,” he said simply, his voice softer now. “I really like you, Y/n…” He hesitated, rubbing his palms together. “And I kind of wanted to ask you something.”

Your heartbeat stuttered.

You glanced up at him, his expression unusually nervous. It was…endearing. Seunghyun, the man known for his confidence, for his composed demeanor, was hesitating.

“What is it?” you asked, tilting your head.

He exhaled, adjusting his glasses before finally meeting your gaze.

“I was kind of hoping that we could be… exclusive.” His lips pressed together as he studied your reaction.

You blinked. Was he trying to ask you to be his—

“Like… in a relationship,” he clarified quickly, his voice almost sheepish.

A slow smile crept onto your lips. “Seunghyun, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I am. Sorry, I haven’t dated in a long time…”

You should have been ecstatic.

You were happy. Seunghyun was sweet, thoughtful—he treated you better than you had been treated in years. But as you opened your mouth to answer, your mind betrayed you.

Flashes of Jiyong. His hands tangled in your hair, his voice rough with need as he whispered filthy things into your ear. His lips ghosting over your skin, his grip possessive, his body pressing into yours with reckless abandon.

Your stomach twisted violently.

No. That was over. It never meant anything. It was time to move forward.

You inhaled sharply. “Yes.”

Seunghyun’s eyes widened slightly. “Yes?”

You nodded, pushing the lingering thoughts of Jiyong into the furthest corners of your mind. “I really like you too, Seunghyun.” That was the truth. The only truth you could hold onto right now.

His lips curved into the most genuine, heartwarming smile you had ever seen. He ducked his head with a nervous chuckle, and you found yourself staring, captivated by how cute he was.

And yet, despite the happiness bubbling in your chest, that gnawing feeling in your gut refused to disappear.

Seunghyun walked you to your front door beneath a soft glow of streetlights, the cool night air mingling with the warmth of your shared smiles. Every step felt charged with anticipation, and as you paused at the doorstep, his gentle voice broke the quiet. “Does this mean I get to kiss you goodnight?” he murmured, his tone soft.

A blush warmed your cheeks as you met his eyes. “I’d be offended if you didn’t,” you replied, your words light and teasing. The playful banter hung in the space between you like an invitation.

Taking a slow, deliberate step forward, Seunghyun’s hands moved with tender precision. His fingers brushed through your hair, delicately pushing stray strands behind your ear before cupping your cheek with a warmth that made your heart flutter. For a moment, time seemed to pause—the distant hum of the city and the gentle rustle of leaves in the night a perfect backdrop to this intimate scene.

Leaning closer, his gaze never wavering from yours, you instinctively lifted onto your tippy toes, your hands resting lightly on his broad shoulders. The distance between you shrank until his face was only inches away from yours. His lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss that felt both new and achingly familiar. In that single, suspended moment, you sensed the delicate interplay of passion and tenderness—a kiss that carried the sweetness of unspoken promises and the flutter of butterflies dancing wildly in your stomach.

As your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, every touch and every heartbeat deepened the connection between you. Slowly, reluctantly, you broke the kiss, your lips parting with a lingering sense of wonder.

Biting your lip, you gazed up at him through long, fluttering lashes as he whispered a quiet “Woah…” His husky tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but giggle—a sound that mingled with the night’s serene melody.

Gathering your courage, you softly asked, “Do you… want to come inside? We could watch a movie or something…” The invitation was gentle yet filled with hopeful vulnerability.

His smile widened, lighting up the dim night as he replied with playful earnestness, “Can I kiss you more?”

With a delighted giggle and a nod that spoke volumes, you fumbled for your keys. The simple click of the lock unlocking became the opening note of a new chapter, a promise of more shared moments, more whispered secrets, and more kisses waiting in the quiet sanctuary of your home.

The bright morning sun pierced through your eyelids, its warmth a stark contrast to the cool air still clinging to the room. You stirred uncomfortably, groaning as you turned your face away from the light. That’s when you felt it—a strong, steady arm wrapped around your waist, holding you securely. Your entire body tensed for a split second, your heart pounding as memories of past mornings with Jiyong rushed through your mind like an uninvited ghost.

But then, reality settled in, wiping away the bitter taste of regret. Last night’s events played in your head like a hazy but beautiful dream—your date with Seunghyun, the way he looked at you under the dim glow of streetlights, the soft confession that led to him asking you to be his girlfriend. The way he kissed you at your doorstep… and every kiss that followed.

A slow smile curled at your lips as you relaxed into his warmth, allowing yourself to savor the unfamiliar but welcome sensation of waking up in his arms. No guilt. No shame. No rushing to untangle yourself and sneak out of a bed that wasn’t yours to stay in. You were exactly where you wanted to be. Fully clothed, wrapped up in the arms of your boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The word settled in your chest, unfamiliar but thrilling.

Carefully, you sat up, trying not to wake him. Seunghyun’s grip loosened slightly, but he remained fast asleep, his lips parted as soft snores escaped. You couldn’t help but smile, watching him for a moment longer than necessary. He looked peaceful, and God, was he handsome—long lashes resting against his skin, dark hair a mess against the pillow. A warmth spread through your chest as you resisted the urge to reach out and trace your fingers along his jaw.

Shaking yourself out of your daze, you reached for your phone on the coffee table and began scrolling through your messages. The moment of peace shattered instantly.

“Shit…” you muttered under your breath, your stomach sinking at the reminder staring back at you. Your so-called day off had just been hijacked. Jiyong and Taeyang needed their hair done before tomorrow’s interview.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?”

Seunghyun’s raspy voice, still thick with sleep, sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes remained closed as he reached for you, fingers grazing your wrist before wrapping around your waist to pull you back against him.

You sighed, letting yourself melt into his hold. “I forgot Jiyong and Youngbae have an interview tomorrow. I have to do their hair today.” A pout formed on your lips as you snuggled into his chest. “I just wanna lay here with you all day.”

Seunghyun let out a low hum, his lips pressing a lazy kiss against your temple. “Mmm, me too,” he whispered. “What if they just came here? Then we don’t have to get dressed, don’t have to drive to the studio… and I can make you breakfast.”

The idea was tempting. Youngbae was always easy going—you actually enjoyed spending time with him. But Jiyong… the last time he was in your house, your nails had been digging into his back as you moaned his name into the night.

Your stomach twisted at the memory.

You swallowed hard, forcing the thought away before it could drag you down into dangerous territory. “That sounds nice,” you murmured instead.

You shot off a quick text to the boys, and an hour later, there was a knock at your door. Seunghyun answered, while you stood in the living room, preparing everything you needed.

“Y/n!” Taeyang’s voice rang through the space as he entered, immediately pulling you into a warm hug. “How are you?!”

“I’m good! How are you?” you asked, laughing as he gave you a quick spin before setting you back down.

“Great! Can’t wait for you to work your magic on this mess,” he grinned, ruffling his already-disheveled hair.

Your gaze flickered past him just as Jiyong walked in, his presence filling the room with an unspoken weight. He barely acknowledged you as he plopped onto the couch, phone in hand, fingers immediately scrolling through his feed.

“Hey,” he said flatly.

You returned the greeting with the same lack of enthusiasm. “Hey.”

The exchange seemed normal enough to Seunghyun and Taeyang, but beneath the surface, the tension between you and Jiyong crackled like a live wire.

Trying to ignore the feeling gnawing at your gut, you focused on Youngbae’s hair, assessing what needed to be done. Just a little bleach, a little dye—nothing too complicated.

Seunghyun approached you, holding out a piece of crispy bacon. You glanced up at him and smiled, accepting the bite as he fed you.

“Thank you, babe.”

“Oooooh,” Taeyang drawled, grinning mischievously. “Are you guys dating now?”

Seunghyun beamed. “Yeah. I asked her last night over dinner.” He fed you another bite, his smile wide with pride. You chewed, feeling suddenly shy under the attention.

“No shit?!” Taeyang laughed. “Well, congratulations! You guys are a cute couple.”

Seunghyun leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before heading back to the kitchen, his mood light and carefree.

You swallowed, your hands suddenly clumsy as you mixed the dye. Something told you to look behind you.

Jiyong.

He sat stiffly on the couch, his phone forgotten in his lap, his jaw clenched. His leg bounced restlessly, the violent motion betraying the storm brewing inside him.

“I need a smoke,” he muttered before pushing up from the couch and making his way toward the balcony.

Seunghyun watched him go, a look of confusion flashing across his face before he followed.

Out on the porch, the air was thick with unspoken words.

“You good?” Seunghyun asked, lighting his own cigarette.

Jiyong took a long drag, exhaling a slow stream of smoke before responding. “Yeah, I’m good, man.”

“You seem tense.”

Jiyong hesitated before speaking. “It’s just… this girl.”

Seunghyun raised a brow. “Girl? I didn’t know you had a girl.”

Jiyong let out a dry chuckle. “She’s not really my girl. We just fucked.”

“Ahhh,” Seunghyun grinned. “But you like her?”

Jiyong pressed his lips together, his jaw tightening as he stared at the city skyline. He could lie. He could brush it off like he always did. But for some reason, the words didn’t come.

Seunghyun took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling before speaking. “Dude, I know you hate getting close to girls. But if she’s worth it, you gotta find a way.”

Jiyong let out a bitter laugh. “Trust me, it’s not that simple.”

“Well, you deserve a good woman. But you have to put in the effort to get her.” Seunghyun glanced through the window, smiling at the sight of you laughing with Youngbae. “It took me a while, but I finally asked Y/n out. And she said yes, man! She’s my fucking girlfriend!”

Jiyong squeezed his eyes shut. The words hit him harder than they should have. He flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe before turning to face Seunghyun.

“You’re right, man. Thanks. And… you and Y/n are great together. I’m happy for you.” He forced a smile, clapping a hand on Seunghyun’s shoulder. But inside, he was unraveling. Because he wasn’t happy for him.

He wasn’t happy at all.

He was supposed to hate you. But watching you now—happy, glowing, wrapped up in Seunghyun’s affection—he didn’t hate you.

He needed you.

And that realization made him want to tear the whole damn world apart.

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shanklin · 3 days ago

Note

What if Stan gives shanklin a mini-Mr. Mystery outfit!

The two be twinning!

Also I was thinking what if Stan has a slow arc of learning how to be comfortable or trust adults again.

For reasons he can’t explain, he has a hard time being able to talk to adult men, his heart pounds faster, he feels a little queasy, and his palms get sweaty. Soos is a unexpected exception, with Soos, maybe it’s his more relaxed personality or the way that Soos sits with him and treats Stan like a friend, that makes Stan relax around him.

However for someone new like Melody, not only do Stan’s insecurities flare up, but so does his fight, flight, freeze or fawn instincts activate as well.

Melody feels like a threat to him at first, but gradually, Stan starts to feel safe with her too.

Also the Grunks & Grants,

In a way, their flaws give them room to grow and self reflect. By realizing their mistakes they made with Stan, maybe they themselves can learn to heal from past wounds.

I kinda think of this scene where Mabel finally figured out she messed up, the core problem of why Stan no longer trusts her. The realization came after something mundane, she was watching a parent with their kid, and their kid is throwing a tantrum.

So Mabel goes in to help. Another person who is watching, remarks how the kid is being selfish and should shut up. The parent of the kid though, defends their kid, and says,

“How about you shut up! Kids are allowed to be selfish! That’s the point of being a kid. If you make mistakes and learn and grow but you can’t do that if you’re self less all the time.”

That when it sort of clicks entirely for Mabel as she says in a quiet, broken voice, “They…are?”

The parent, looks over to Mabel and says, “I’ve knew someone who gave away every part of themselves, until there was nothing left. Seeing that… it’s heartbreaking to see someone become that. I refuse to let my kid, restrict themselves or keep from being who they are.”

I want to see a slow arc of Stan on rocky waters with Dipper and Mabel and eventually build that bond back up.

Speaking of slow rebuilding, like Ford and Stan, man.

Maybe Ford is frustrated because he doesn’t know his brother anymore and it feels like their bond is estranged. Ford is in denial trying to think everything is fine but knows deep down that he doesn’t know how to fix this. Also maybe there’s a certain bit of jealousy of Soos and Missy Gleeful who are able to get along better with Stan now. That’s supposed to be his twin, sure Ford wanted space, but he also misses his brother. But he doesn’t know the right words or actions to get them to reconcile, to get Stan to look him in the eyes. Or for Stan to stop looking all jumpy all the time.

Also the thing with Missy Gleeful is incredibly interesting!!! Like since the two can bond over bad dads, maybe the two start to learn how to unravel and be kids again. Maybe Missy Gleeful helps Stan’s business in secret.

Oh and Wendy!! What ideas should we do with Wendy?

Selfish Shellfish AU - Masterpost

Oh dear anon, this is a mess of a reply and I couldn't keep my thoughts straight. But here you go. A long answer for a long ask.

Stan & the Adults

That’s exactly what I need. And I need it to hurt. For every step forward they move two steps back.

The heartbreaking thing is, Stan doesn’t blame them. Hell, Stan doesn’t blame Filbrick for being hard on him. They were just trying to help him. To fix him.

How does Stan repay his family? By killing the one person who stayed with him through everything and avoiding and disappointing the others. Stan was supposed to be better by now, more grown up so they want him around and now look at him.

He’s a good for nothing murderer who convinced a guy, who is too nice to know any better, to take him in and when he gets the chance to go back to his family and prove to them that he can still be better and regrets his actions, he runs away. He hides at Soos’ house and refuses to see them.

He cannot lose them again, so he leaves them first instead.

Stan living with Soos would also mean the Pines might get the wrong idea.

Who is this creep? He can’t just kidnap Stan! Is Stan having Stockholm Syndrome?

They already found out some of what happened in New Jersey and want to help. But they make it worse. And then Ford remembers the whole “Extra Stan 3$ or better offer” debacle and comes to the conclusion that Filbrick might’ve sold Stan to Soos and then Soos killed Filbrick to make sure Stan has no where to return to.

The accusations get worse and worse and Stan is cornered. With no way out, he explodes and lets more slip than he meant to, which throws him into a panic attack.

Neither Dipper, nor Mabel, not even Ford can calm him down and it’s Soos who tells them to step back and give him some space. Then they catch a glimpse of Stan clinging to Soos like his life depends on it [something Stan will deny until his dying breath] and realise it might be for the best if Stan stays with Soos for now.

I'm all here for Stan being scared of other adults. Especially now that he’s not with Filbrick anymore and has time to calm down and process.

He would be terrified of Dipper and Maybel and not understand why. They are safe. He loves them. They never hurt him. Why is he sure they will?

On a slightly different note, Stan being afraid of Melody is as heartbreaking as it is funny to me. He’s a little scared kitten hissing at her and hiding, while she does absolutely nothing that could be considered threatening. But then she starts feeding him and her sandwiches are really delicious, so maybe she's not so bad.

I keep imagining Stan to be younger and younger and this. Poor boy is aging backwards in my mind.

[...Actually doing a whole thing where Stan gets deaged and is also mentally a small child but with all of his memories intact would be such sweet torture. One of my favourite tropes. It also would give us an older brother Ford who is actually older than Stan mentally. I’d read the shit out of it. ahhhh]

I absolutely love the scene you have in mind for Mabel. I’m SHAKING YOU. AHHHHH!

Yes YES. Realising that you might actually be part of the problem, it’s terrifying and extremely hard to come to terms with. You didn‘t want to be the bad guy. Your intentions were all good. This isn’t fair! You didn’t mean to!

Stan & Ford

Stan and Ford's whole relationship is just this song on repeat. Simply switch the piano out for a ship and we’re good.

From the outside Stan looks fine at first. He’s making other friends in Soos and Missy and avoids Ford. It just proves to Ford what he always knew. Stan would’ve been better off without his freak of a brother holding him back. Maybe Stan not visiting him wasn’t because of Filbrick after all.

Okay but honestly, I feel so bad for Ford. He just wanted to have some space, friends and things for himself and in the process failed to see how much Stan was hurting, especially considering they both got bad advice from their trusted adults. Suddenly, he lost his best friend. However by the time Ford realised it, Stan had started to come up with excuses not to visit and Ford had no guideline to deal with that, so he resorted back to what he’s been told by the adults in his life. And here we are.

The thing is, the only way for Stan to open up to Mabel and Dipper is if he first fixes things with Ford.

What I need is for Ford, Mabel and Dipper to fall apart over their inability to make things right with Stan. It gets bad. They’re not talking and blaming each other. Ford eventually spends as much time as possible away from the house.

And where better to spend his time than his secret hiding spot. A small cave by the late. It might not be so secret anymore though as he keeps finding evidence that someone else has been coming here as well recently.

One day, after another fight over what to do about Stan, he finds someone at his secret cave.

It’s Stanley. Of course Stanley is the one who has been coming here as well. Ford should've known. It’s such a them thing to do. Or at least it used to be.

Stanley has been crying. When he notices Ford he jumps up and moves to leave but then their eyes meet for the first time in three years and Stan’s whole demeanor shifts.

Why is Ford crying? Who hurt him? Who does Stan need to beat up?

Ford starts sobbing and Stan is at loss as to what to do.

Ford asks him to stay just in case the bullies come back and his brother hesitantly agrees.

They don’t talk. Ford is too scared to break the silence. Everytime he attempted to talk before, Stan would block him out or escape. Stan doesn’t seem to be in a mood for it either. He’s too tense and twitchy, but he stays until the sun begins to set and tells Ford he has to go or Soos will be worried.

They walk back together and when the path splits Ford thanks Stanley for keeping him company.

Stan hesitates.

“Is - is everything alright at home?”

Ford smiles.

“Yes, don’t worry about it, Stanley. Just some bullies from school.”

They go their separate ways. There is no goodbye, no see you later, but the next day both boys meet up again at the lake.

It’s a slow and quiet thing, getting to know each other. They both changed, became different people and both are not yet ready to address what happened to them.

Instead, almost subconsciously, they start collecting wood and other tools and bring them to their base. They don’t discuss what they’re doing, but when Ford starts drawing up blueprints Stan is there ith him making his own suggestions and adjustments.

The boat they’re trying to build looks nothing like the one they found back in Jersey. And maybe that’s for the best. The old boat’s keel had already been cracked when they started the repairs. The Stan-o-War I was never destined to last.

They don’t know if the new boat will be able to sail either, or if it will leave them drowning at sea, but they give it their best shot.

Over the next weeks, months, their boat starts to take shape. They talk more and they fight, and it hurts and some days they refuse to even look at each other, but they still keep working on their boat, until one day they realise it's ready to set sail.

(They had to postpone the sailing for another day. They couldn’t stop crying. But that's okay, it’s a secret they keep to themselves.)

This all happened at their little hidden spot by the lake. No one else knows. Not their friends, not the adults.

Grunkle Dipper and Grauntie Mabel have no idea what’s going on with Ford, just that he is leaving the house much more frequently and longer than usual. They decide to keep their fighting to a minimum and try to apologize to Ford. He’s been struggling much more than them. They were…really selfish.

Meanwhile Stan wants to believe Ford when he tells him that Dipper and Mabel love him and want to apologize.

Ford slaps him over the head when Stan suggests that there is nothing to apologize for. It’s all his fault. Another slap.

Ouch, ouch, okay geez. Fine. Stan promised to trust Ford so he will do that. He is…just not quite ready to face them yet. As himself that is.

What I’m saying is, time for a twin switch! 😂

Ford makes it a point to only wear gloves at home, which worries Dipper and Mabel to no end, but nothing they do will persuade him to stop.

As soon as that very important plot hole has been solved, they do the switch. At first only for a couple of minutes, then longer. Fiddleford was kind enough to build them some spy gear so Ford can listen in and talk to Stan just in case things go south.

It works. Much better than expected. Stan gets used to his Grauntie and Grunkle again and starts seeing their past interactions in a different light.

Mabel and Dipper talk to “Ford” about how much they love Stan, how much they messed up, how sorry they are. And they chastise “Ford” when Stan offhandedly mentions that it was all Stan's fault to begin with.

Through all their talks and time spent together Stan somehow manages to fix what was broken between Mabel and Dipper and gets to learn more about their story and how it affected his own. And with understanding comes forgiveness.

One day, months later Mabel and Dipper come down for breakfast and see double.

“Could you pass me the maple syrup, Stan?”

“Why yes, Stan. Here you go”

Stan & Miss Gleefull

Just them hanging out and Missy just being really happy that Stan isn’t bothered by her need to clean every time she’s stressed or nervous. It’s the only way she knows how to cope. If she's cleaning she’s doing something useful. And if she's useful, there is no reason to shout at her. She can simply be ignored.

Just keep cleaning. Just keep cleaning.

Stanley doesn’t mind her quirks and skittish nature. He doesn’t make fun of her when they're outside and she pulls out a hand brush to clean the pavement because a loud noise startled her.

Instead, he steals some gloves for her to make sure she won't injure her hands on the sharp stones.

Stan is really sweet. She wishes she could do something for him as well, but there is no much use for her besides cleaning. So all she can do is listen when he finally talks about himself and everything that happened with his father.

She already knew, of course, that they were the same. His story changed nothing. Stan was still the same. He was still her friend, even if he worried she would leave him after his confession.

Missy just hums, offers to clean his hands and spends the rest of the afternoon doing just that.

They are both a bit strange and broken. But at least they have each other now.

Stan & Wendy

As for Wendy, same answer as with Soos XD

Have no idea what Wendy’s usual role in relativity falls is

I don’t care, don't tell me

Wendy is Wendy so in my mind she's at most a couple of years older than Stan. Still a teenager though

I kind of want her to be stressed out and miserable that she's once again forced to go to spend her summer at logging camp unless she finds a job by the end of the month.

And to make things worse the empty house she usually crashed at when she needed some space for herself is occupied, because the owner decided to return far earlier than usual and for some reason that one nerd from her school moved in as well?

I can’t think of anything specific right now, sorry. But I need Stan to offer her a job. Both Wendy and Soos are his people. His little found family, that Stan already had in canon before the twins arrived.

We all know everyone's 2nd or 3rd favourite episode where Stan teaches her how to steal, yeah?.

Of course we can switch it around and have Wendy be a cool aunt who teaches Stan how to steal and all that but meh. A tiny Stan, teaching her his ways would be much more fun to me.

I imagine Stan to be very well versed in stealing, considering how often Filbrick kicked him out for a night or two and he had to get himself food and supplies by other means. And no way he ever bought Stan any new clothes or other necessities. So stealing it was. Fun stuff.

And to close this mess of an answer off, have a quote from a certain other show about two brothers that I shamefully obsess over every now and then:

Kids ain't supposed to be grateful. They're supposed to eat your food and break your heart.

Nothing to add. That one is just here for the vibes.

#Selfish Shellfish AU #ask #stangst #stanley pines #stanford pines #gravity falls #relativity falls #this one was a struggle. nothing i wrote made any sense. but it is what if is.#if i have to read it over ome more time i'll just delete my answer XD #have fun :)

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leapingbadger · 2 days ago

Text

The Melody

Summary: Omega wakes from a nightmare of her time on Tantiss. Hunter tries to help her though it, with some insight into his own trauma.

Read on AO3

Omega’s eyes fluttered open, the moonlight giving the walls the grey pallor of her cell on Tantiss. She sat up with a start, her heart beating frantically. Panic rising and threatening to steal her voice, as Hemlock had stollen her freedom.

“You okay, Kid?”

A soft, quiet voice asked from her doorway. She didn’t need to look to know Hunter stood there, leaning against the doorframe. She nodded, unable to rasp out the simplest word of acknowledgement.

She dug her hands into the sheets on her bed, sniffed the air for the faint hint of salty ocean breeze and blossom from the weeping maya tree. She listened to the jingle of Batcher’s collar as she shifted in her bed in the corner of the room and took a deep breath.

She was safe. She was home. Hunter was here.

Hunter crossed into the room, playing with something in his left hand. His shaggy hair was hanging over his eyes without his trademark bandana. He ran his hand through the loose curls in an attempt to tame them, but they fell back where they had been, and he didn’t bother to do it again. His wrinkled shirt and loose shorts gave him a relaxed appearance she was still getting used to. So different from the armor-clad Sergeant she had grown up with.

He perched on the edge of her bed, giving her enough space to move but being close enough to draw her into a hug, should she want one. He gently brushed her sweat soaked hair off her forehead, tucking the loose tendrils behind her ear. They were well rehearsed in this scenario now, settling into a familiar rhythm whenever the specter of her confinement came to bite in the dark.

All of her brothers had helped her weather to storm of her nightmares at some point, but Hunter was the most consistent. Omega wasn’t sure whether it was because his enhanced senses were attuned to her or whether the trauma of his own experience kept him up way into the night when the others had gone to bed. Either way, she felt comfort in his presence, as she always had.

Omega took another deep breath and finally felt the cool panic that had taken over her body dissipate.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunter asked quietly, his concerned eyes tracing her face.

She paused for a moment, weighing his question. She wasn’t sure talking really helped. Nothing was going to take away the terror of being ripped away from her family, of being used as a laboratory experiment, or seeing her brothers tortured as they tried to save her. But sharing the burden of those things with someone, with Hunter, did make her feel less alone.

“I just…I thought I was back there…Tantiss,” she said, her voice shaking unexpectedly.

Hunter nodded his understanding and placed his right hand gently on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Come with me,” he said, taking her hand and helping her out of bed.

She followed obediently. He led her through the common room, the game from the previous night still scattered over the caf table. They wended their way past the kitchen, out the front door and to the patio.

The night was warm as always. Hunter guided her onto the bench that faced the ocean and sat down next to her. The waves below crashed into the black rock of the island. Above, the stars glittered and twinkled while the full moon shone down, illuminating the island like a jewel.

Omega looked up at Hunter, her eyes taking in the tattooed side of his face. His gaze was set on the water.

“What are we…” she began.

“Shhh,” he said gently, taking her hand in his and resting it on his knee. “Just listen.”

Omega turned to the water, unsure what she was supposed to be hearing. She turned her head left and then right, seeking the unknown sound.

Hunter sat completely still, except for his thumb gently brushing against the back of her hand. The warmth and rhythm were soothing. They sat in silence for a few more minutes, the crashing waves becoming calming, like a lullaby the island was gifting them with.

“Hunter. I don’t understand.” She said finally. Unable to hear whatever he was talking about.

He smiled, the skull like teeth of the tattoo spreading into a warm grin. He had something grasped in his other hand and played with it absentmindedly, but she was unable to see what it was in the dark.

“When I was a cadet,” he began quietly, still looking forward at the water, “I was subjected to a lot of…unusual experiments. The Kaminoans wanted to know how my enhancements worked, wanted to know the limitations of them. I’ll spare you the details, but sometimes during those tests I would be so overwhelmed, in so much pain and discomfort that the only way to get through it was to lock on to something tangible. Something real.”

Hunter’s face turned towards her, as though gauging her reaction. She wasn’t sure where this story was going but knew it must be somewhere important. Hunter rarely spoke of his time as a cadet and even less time discussing his experience with the Kaminoan testing. It was something he held deep inside, cornered off in a box, never to be touched or dealt with.

Crosshair and Wrecker had told her bits and pieces over the years but never delved into Hutner’s experience, saying it was his information to share.

“Did you know Kamino had a song?” he asked.

Omega felt her browns knit together in confusion and shook her head.

Hunter chuckled, “it’s probably not something anyone else could hear. But it was the one thing that kept me going during the experiments, a constant noise to fix on to. I fully believe I survived because of that song.”

“What did it sound like?” Omega asked, fascinated with the idea that her former home had a hidden melody that only her brother could hear.

Hunter sighed, “It’s hard to describe. It was the rhythmic beat of the ocean colliding against the struts of Tipoca City, way under the crest of the waves. The metal would creak and move, imperceptibly to most, but it sounded like a violin, playing a tune, just for me.”

Omega noticed his eyes turn glassy with the memory.

“Hunter, I still…I still don’t understand.”

He nodded, his eyes searching the island for a way to communicate in a simpler way.

“You have suffered horrors in your young life that many would have found impossible to survive. But you’re here and you’re thriving.” He said with pride, “In the moments when the past come back to haunt you, and it will, at the most inopportune moment sometimes, you need to find the song that will bring you back. Something to hold on to. Mine will always be the sound of Kamino, no matter how long it’s been.”

“What should mine be?” she asked, unable to think of anything that would have such power over her to free her in a time of despair.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that, Omega. But here. This might,” he said, handing her a small piece of metal he had been playing with.

“What is it?” she asked, her browns furrowed in confusion.

“It’s a piece of your home,” he said simply.

Omega looked down at the cool piece of durasteel in her hand. The edges were rounded, but a faint slash of paint was viable, along with some carbon scoring.

“Is this?” she paused and looked up at Hunter and noticed his intense gaze on her.

“It’s a piece of the Marauder. It washed up on the beach a few days ago. I thought maybe you should have it.”

Omega smiled as she reverently ran her fingers over the piece of metal. It wouldn’t have been anything remarkable to anyone else, just a piece of debris rounded with the constant beating of the saltwater waves. But to her, to her it was time spent with her brothers. It was her very first bedroom and midnight snacks in the cockpit. It was comforting talks with Hunter, laughter with Wrecker, lectures with Echo, discovery with Tech and healing with Crosshair. It was warmth and love and family.

She heard the roar of the Marauder’s engines, the beeps, whistles and chimes of the control panels, and the clang of her footsteps on the grated metal floor. And suddenly she realized the song was there all along, hiding in her memory, just like Hunter had said.

When she had longed for escape, longed for her brothers during her endless imprisonment, the Marauder was the ubiquitous common factor. They would rescue her on their ship, she was returning home to them on that ship and even though Pabu was now their home, and she loved it, the Marauder would always be her first real home, the place that had given her a family.

She smiled up at Hunter as she realized and threw her arms around his chest. He leaned down and she gently felt his lips graze her hair.

“I understand now,” she said with a grin, holding the small piece of the ship to her heart. “I think I’m ready to go back to bed.” She said.

Hunter nodded and followed her back into the house. She tucked the piece of the Marauder under her pillow, as though its mere presence would ward off any returning nightmares. Hunter sat on the floor next to her bed, gently stroking her arm as her eyes fluttered closed.

Her dreams were quick to take her home. She was curled up in the gunner’s mount of the Marauder, Lula carefully tucked under her arm. She could hear the quiet laughter of her brothers behind the curtain. Wrecker’s booming laugh, Crosshair’s snide comments, Hunter’s deep chuckle, Echo’s hearty laugh and the clipped proper dialect of Tech, unsure what was so funny. She smiled and pulled Lula closer, as the whir of the engines and chimes of the control panel lulled her back to sleep.

#tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #tbb fic #papa hunter #hunter and omega #hunter is Omega's dad #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb echo #the bad batch #sw tbb #tbb fandom #sergeant hunter #the bad batch hunter #post season 3 #fluff and angst

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mxtantrights · 3 days ago

Text

mob!bucky knows you know

It wasn't a ceremony. It wasn't much of anything. Apparently Sam got ordained and that meant he was legally able to marry you and Bucky. Which, you had no clue was happening today.

But that was only one surprises in store for you.

When you got up to answer your door, there was Steve. He grumbled something about your presence being requested at Bucky's estate. His estate which you haven't been to ever--because the whole point of a secret relationship was to keep a secret.

A trist on an estate is hardly a secret.

So you sat passenger side in Steve's Mustang. Neither of you said a word to each other on the ride up there. You kind of wanted to talk to Steve but you knew he was still rightfully holding a bit of a grudge towards you.

It took a very long hour and third minutes to get to the estate.

As soon as you stepped out of the car, you were rushed inside. Steve told you that Bucky was waiting of you but you didn't know what he really meant until you saw him, and all of it.

There were flower petals on the ground, white ones. There was no furniture. Except for a single altar, which he stood at. Sam stood to his right.

"We're doing this now?" you asked.

"Now or never, sweetheart." Bucky said.

You looked down at your clothes. Silently you cursed Steve for not letting you bring something with you to change into. But you stopped yourself right then and there. This wasn't a marriage of love, it was out of necessity. It was a deal.

You walked on over the petals and joined Sam and Bucky.

"Took you both a long time, but here we are. I'm not gonna drag this because we've got a busy schedule today." Sam snickered.

"Thanks." Bucky muttered.

Quickly you looked him over once. He looked a bit--practiced, stone cold. You thought to yourself that was understandable. Based on what Steve told you about how he took the break up.

You were willing to bet that was only a part of it. Bucky never really shared that much about his feelings. Even when you were together. You knew he cared for you deeply with his actions. But he never said it.

To make yourself feel better you always thought you never needed him to say it.

As you stood across from him, hands at your sides as Sam started to speak again, you regretted it. You regretted not ever asking how he felt about you.

Because you know for sure that you were in love with Bucky Barnes.

And a part of you still is.

Bucky opens the basement door. And you find the one man you wouldn't want to see any other day. But today is different because you do actually want to see him.

Brock Rumlow is tied to a chair and gagged. You can't help the sigh of relief that comes out of you. He looks at you with wide eyes and starts trying to get out of his restraints.

"You're not gonna get out of that. The kid, Peter, he's got a knack for tying knots. We call him The Spider." Bucky says.

You walk closer into the room. Seeing Brock so helpless gives you a bit of a rush. A rush that a couple of years ago you would have found repulsive. But knowing what you know about Brock now, you find it satisfying.

With a smirk, you lean in close to him.

"You're delusional if you ever thought I would marry you." you speak.

Brock grunts and bangs his chair against the floor.

"And trying to trick my father into it, shows how much of a snake you are." you continue.

"Do you want me to kill him?" Bucky asks.

There it is. The million dollar question. He can't marry you anymore. He can't blackmail your father anymore. Not with you married to Bucky.

You look into Brock's eyes. It's not like you know him well. You've barely talked to the man. And when he's spoken to you, you've always felt that he was more so sizing you up and trying you on.

But looking at him now, you can see it. Fear. Fear is laced into his pupils. He's trying not so show it but it's hard to hide. His breathing is erratic and he won't stop budging against the ropes around his arms and legs.

"Not yet."

#Bucky Barnes x reader #marvel x reader #marvel #bucky barnes #mob!bucky #bucky barnes x black!reader

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anyknotrants · 1 day ago

Text

Waiting

Wally was in love with Robin.

That was probably the most well-known secret throughout the entire Young Justice, if not the whole Justice League. The sky is blue, the grass is green and Kid Flash is in love with Robin. Everyone knew that.

Except Robin himself, apparently.

It was awkward for Wally at first. He could barely be in the same room as him without his heart beating out of his chest. Artemis pestered him about confessing, but he never did.

Looking back now, he can’t figure out for the life of him why he never did.

But life went on. It just… became another part of who he was.

The sky is blue, the grass is green and Wally West was in love with Dick Grayson.

It never went away and Wally had suspicion it never will. But he left it as it was, never acted on it.

Running around the chrysalis with Barry and Bart now, he knew what was the thing he regretted most.

“Barry!” he shouted at his uncle, catching his attention. The blond man slowed down for a millisecond, showing that he was listening.

“When you get out tell Dick that– you know what.” There was a flash of something in his eyes. Sadness, grief, regret and finally understanding. For a moment he looked like he might protest, before he promptly shut his mouth again.

He nodded and Wally felt a small weight lift from his shoulders.

He was glad his uncles didn’t try to stop him. He was a hero as well, after all. He understands sacrifice more than anyone.

Once more, and probably for the last time, Wally pushed himself on, giving it everything he had. It was okay. It was all going to be okay.

----------

Wally would say that he didn’t know how long he spent in the Speedforce, but at the same time, he felt every single second of it.

The only thing he knew when he got out was how cold it was, and how much he needed to see Dick.

---------

In the end, it took a whole day before he could talk to him. Between all the tests and check ups, he didn’t have time. And Batman sure as hell was not letting him anywhere close to Nightwing before he was cleared.

When he was finally cleared, he didn’t waste a single second before he speeded off to Dick’s apartment.

When he got there, he didn’t even bother knocking, just phased straight through the door.

He stopped in the doorway to the living room, freezing in his stop.

There he was. Dick Grayson, Nightwing, his Robin, pacing around the room with phone pressed to his ear.

Wally couldn’t tear his eyes aways from him, but also couldn’t bring himself to make a sound or move. He just stood there.

After what felt like eternity, Dick freezed in his stop as well, his back turned to Wally, his phone clutched in his hand, before he dropped it all together, and spinned around.

Wally could see the moment he registered who was standing there, because Dick’s eyes widened, shining with unshed tears.

“W– Wally?” he stuttered, and Wally couldn’t take it anymore. He speeded across the room faster than ever, wrapping Dick in his arms.

“Dick,” Wally breathed out like a prayer. He felt when Dick tensed in his arms, before completely melting, breaking down in his arms, clutching him like his life depended on it.

“Wally!” he choked out, his voice muffled by Wally’s shirt.

“You– you’re back! You–” he broke off to more sobs, his knees buckling. Wally let them slowly slide to the floor, knowing he himself could not stand for much longer. Dick grasp only tightened, as he all but climbed into his lap.

He held him as long as Dick needed. Which was a while. But Wally didn’t mind. Dick had to wait years for Wally to come back, Wally could wait a few minutes, or hours. He didn’t care.

When Dick finally calmed down, so he was no longer a crying mess, Wally pulled away from him a bit. Still holding him, but enough that he could look him in the eyes.

“Wally I–” Dick started to say, but Wally interrupted him before he could finish.

“I love you,” he blurred out, unable to stop himself. But he couldn’t wait anymore. He waited long enough.

“You– what?”

“I’m in love with you. I know this is probably not the best time to confess my feelings, after all, I’ve been gone for the past few years, but I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. And I realize I probably shouldn’t wait anymore. AndIdon’twantotdieagainwithoutyouknowingIloveyouandI’ms–” Wally didn’t got to finish his sentence, as he was interrupted by soft lips on his own.

When Dick pulled away, he had a soft and teary smile on his face.

“Of course I love you, you idiot,” he laughed. Wally stared for a second, processing what Dick just said, before a large grin took over his face.

Before he knew it, he was kissing Dick again. This time more intentionally, more , more passionately.

Dick wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, and deepening the kiss.

-----------

It was supposed to be a slow, peaceful morning. After all, Wally just spent one of the best nights with the man he loved, who was currently lying oín the bed next to him.

Of course, with Wally, nothing could be normal or peaceful.

“Let’s get married,” Wally blurted out before he would stop himself. There was some rushing on the other side of the bed, before Dick’s head popped up from the covers.

“I– what?” Dick had that adorable and rare confused look on his face.

“Let’s get married,” he repeated, rolling around to look at his boyfriend.

“So I did hear that right– I’m not saying no just– what brought this on? We barely even started dating, isn’t it a bit early?” Dick propped himself on his elbows to get a better look at the speedster.

“I’m– I’m done waiting. I have waited all my life, and look where it got me. In our line of work, everyday could be our last, I– I died once already. And I love you Dick, and have for longer than I can remember, and will forever. I don’t see a reason to wait. So. Richard John Grayson-Wayne, will you marry me?”

Wally didn’t know when it happened, but suddenly he had an armful of laughing Nightwing, and lips pressed to his own.

When Dick pulled away from the kiss, he had tears in his eyes, and a smile on his face.

“Yes, Yes a thousand times.”

After he calmed out a bit, tears no longer on his face, and lying on Wally’s chest, Dick spoke again.

“But I will need a ring,” Dick mused, staring up at the ceiling.

“Well, lucky for you,” Wally said, bending over to shuffle through his bedside table, and after a few seconds, he let out a triumphal yelp. He straightened up again, this time with a box in his hand. “I’ve already got one for you.”

Dick stared at the boy for a minute, eyes flicking between it and Wally’s mailing face. Slowly, he opened the box, revealing the ring.

When he did, he stared at it for a moment longer, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, before he carefully pulled the ring out.

It was a black, metal band, with electric blue lightning running around it in the middle, with one small pearl nested between its ends.

“Is– is that–” Dick choked out, staring at the pearl.

“A pearl from Martha’s Wayne necklace, from the day she died? Yes, it is. Bruce insisted I put it in it.” At that, Dick’s head jerked up.

“You talked to Bruce?”

“And Alfred. Of course I did! I was not about to propose to his son without him knowing, and without a blessing from Alfred. That guy is terrifying when he wants to be.”

Dick could only laugh at that.

(this was created for out Batfam community, and its PromptMonday)

#i wrote this at 3am #i should not be helf accountable for my actions #birdflash #dick grayson #wally west #idiots in love #gettinf together #love confessions #dcu #batfam #I can talk

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damnitiloveyou · 3 days ago

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Since the show is not going to punish the Diaz parents, just like they didn't punish the Buckley parents, I'm going to need the standard awkward family dinner once Buck and Eddie get together. Buck making himself crazy because he insisted on cooking the entire meal from scratch. Eddie finding that idea completely insane but also kind of adorable so he offers to help, which normally Buck loves, but for some reason today the kitchen feels very tiny so he really just needs Eddie to go to the store or something. Brilliant plan except the Diaz parents arrive while Eddie is at said store leaving Buck alone with them. Except no he's not, thank god, Chris come talk to your grandparents, but don't say anything that will make them want to take you back to Texas with them. Eddie arrives back at home the same time the Buckley parents do and why are they dressed for dinner at the country club instead of their son's home. The three awkwardly walk into the house together only to see Chris and the Diaz parents talking in the living room. Buck is still hiding cooking in the kitchen so Eddie excuses himself under the guise of getting everyone drinks, who cares if they don't have the ingredients to make Phillip's stupid drink everyone will get wine in the ridiculously fancy glasses Buck for some reason owned when they moved his things in. Speaking of Buck get your ass in the living room and help or you will become reacquainted with the couch you love so much tonight. Dinner is served. Both Buckley and Diaz parents are desperately trying to make polite chit chat because they are both on their best I don't want my son to hate me anymore so I will support this decision even if it makes me want to ram my head into a wall repeatedly behavior. Christopher abandons them at the first opportunity. Screw the wine everyone needs something stronger.

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #if you're going to force them on us i'm going to need this #buckley parents #diaz parents #at least everyone loves christopher

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mikkomacko · 4 hours ago

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Jack surprises them all one day by blurting out in fluent Swiss German something like “Nico you need to bathe these kids more. They almost smell as bad as you.”

I really need to know how this escalated and everyone else’s reactions

It probably happens after they’ve had a family dinner or something, and Jack and Luke are playing on the living room floor with the kids. They keep calling him Uncle Donkey and Nico is biting back laughter every time it happens, hiding his grin in your shoulder.

Jack lets it go on for a bit longer, still messing around with the babies until one of them jumps on him, nearly tackling him back. He looks to you, perched on Nico’s lap watching them all with a fond smile, subtly winking before he takes a big dramatic whiff of them.

“Ewww Nico,” he exclaims dramatically, “these kids need a bath. They almost smell as bad as you.”

The whole living room goes silent. Nico’s mouth open in shock, the kids looking at him with wide eyes, Luke is confused.

Until one of the babies is shouting, “Uncle donkey knows Swiss!”

Except he really doesn’t and they don’t seem to get that, all of them bombarding him with questions in Swiss German and he’s just snickering with a shit eating grin, tickling and wrestling them. Then they assume Luke must know it too, turning to Uncle Luke to question him too and he has no idea what anyone is saying, looking to you helplessly.

Nico pinched at your hip, making you squeal and try to jump away from him but he pins you back against his chest. “Traitor,” he tells you, faux angry. “Maybe I should tell him what you call him in Italian.”

You giggle, the Italian joke really being between you and Johnny (and Nico) because the kids struggle more with Italian than they do their father’s language.

Turning to Nico, you press a chaste kiss to his temple before leaning in close to his ear, whispering, “Do that and I won’t tell you what I call you in Italian.”

The suggestive purr in your voice makes him groan, slumping back into the couch in defeat. As consolation he gets to see the kids pester Jack even more.

#mob boss nico hischier #him and i chats

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legalandnotease · 16 hours ago

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NcTBjZ_za_M

Here's a very disappointing of a therapist talking about Bucky and agreeing with what TFATWS said about him. Apparently, even though Bucky had no choice with the killings, he still needs to take responsibility for them.

Also Bucky's therapist was good because she 'didn't put up with his bullshit'. His 'bullshit' was not trusting or opening up to her, but why would he do that when she insults him and deliberately triggers him. They say 'she's exactly the kind of therapist he needs' even though earlier they said in a situation like his, it's important to have people who love you unconditionally.

They also liked the scene with Sam's advice. They agreed with Sam telling Bucky that it's his job to make the other victims of Hydra feel better and get closure. It's really sad that only two people ever acknowledged Bucky as a victim: Steve and T'challa.

At least they also agreed that Sebastian is a phenomenal actor.

Thanks so much for sending me this!

I clicked and I saw it was Cinema Therapy. They *finally* made a video about Bucky.

youtube

We've literally been asking them for one for 3 years or more. Funny how he only got half an hour though, when Tonky got more than double that. (Although I understand there's a 45-minute version on their Patreon page...)

Also, I am glad they put him in the "hero" category not "villian" or antihero.

I am about halfway through it at the moment and I am starting to see what you mean, though. What really bothered me was the intro sequence where they said Bucky was "partly to blame" for the actions of HYDRA- and yet still compared him to an abuse survivor. So abuse survivors are "partly to blame" for the actions of their abusers? Its weirdly contradictory for them to talk about Bucky needing unconditional love and compassion- and yet be fine with his therapist's horribly insensitive treatment of his trauma. Also Sam's whole "tough love" thing. Isn't that the opposite of compasssion? Others have gone into how it could potentially be not only traumatizing but even dangerous for Bucky to approach family members those he killed without professional supervision or mediation.

I personally suspect that maybe the somewhat contradictory statements arise from people's reluctance to criticize The Falcon and the Winter Soldier show in any capacity. You know what happens if you do.

The other possibility is the attitude to male victims in general. Natahsa was never forced to make amends, or blamed for the actions of The Red Room. Bucky is. Why?

Mostly I suspect its because society has brainwashed men into thinking they can't be victims. They must have *wanted* what happened to them, and if they are vulnerable or struggling then that amounts to "weakness".

Look at the attitude of many fans towards Bucky overall, and how they equate basic compassion with "coddling" or say he needs to stop feeling sorry for himself and "get his shit together".

This is absolutely typical of the rhetoric that male victims are subjected to in real life. And the rhetoric surrounding male mental health as a whole. Men aren't allowed to be struggling, men aren't allowed to need help. Men aren't allowed to be be in pain or emotional and above all men aren't allowed to be victims.

Except they 100% are.

#bucky barnes #mcu #sam wilson #christine raynor #cinema therapy #male mental health #tfatws #winter soldier #mental health #ptsd #captain america: the winter soldier #captain america #captain america: the first avenger #james buchanan barnes

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stereopticons · 3 days ago

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On This Day in Schitt's Creek: March 1

2019

practice makes perfection... [david/patrick, T, 803] by @startswithhope

This show and these two characters make me happy, so here's some nighttime snuggling. These two are so soft, so this is what I want for them...

Vroom Vroom, David [david/patrick, T, 1,304] by @mostlyinthemorning

Patrick discovers that Alexis is not the only Rose family member with an online past. After S5E08 "The Hospies"

Wild and Wired [david/patrick, T, 19,433] by lettered

David and Patrick up through their first kiss.

2020

Privacy [david/patrick, E, 5,023] by JessX2231

It was thrilling, being the one to make Patrick fall apart. He’d been starting to see small moments here and there, but since privacy was a tricky thing for them, it didn’t happen nearly as often as David wished. So of course he was doing all he could to make up for lost time. Or, their night at Stevie's.

Room Ten [david/patrick, E, 3,341] by WellSchitt

This is the second installment in the Sex Motel series! It begins the day after the previous fic, DelilahMcMuffin's Room Six <3 <3 -- “Do it. David, I’m ready, you can- you can-” “Shh. I want to take care of you.” Because he cared too much about Patrick to rush this, cared more about Patrick’s wellbeing than a good fuck. He wanted, needed, to be careful with Patrick.

Room Eight [david/patrick, E, 3,817] by @noahreids

This is the third installment in the Sex Motel series that continues to explore David and Patrick's stolen moments at the Sherwood Motel. My contribution continues about a week (maybe?) after WellSchitt's Room Ten. <3 And! In the moments right after Girls Night (4x04).

Room Two [david/patrick, E, 4,751] by @samwhambam

This is the 5th installment of the Sex Motel series. This takes place after the BBQ, but before the Olive Branch episode. * He tapped the phone screen to keep it from dimming and before he could think twice, he tapped on Patrick’s contact information and hit ‘call’. Patrick picked up on the first ring. “David.” David took a deep breath, just to center himself. “I’m still upset. But I miss you,” David said.

Gift Shop [david/patrick, NR, 563] by @distractivate

David this wasn't meant to be some Advent calendar of apologies. It was like an olive branch to get you to talk to me. Patrick sends an olive branch after the barbecue.

Room Thirteen [david/patrick, T, 3,164] by @missgeevious

David suffers an injury that may ruin his plans for hot, sweaty make-up sex. Takes place immediately after David’s Olive Branch lip sync in episode 4.09. This story is part of a series about David and Patrick using the Sherwood Motel (the motel Johnny and Roland buy in Season 6) to connect before Patrick gets his own apartment.

Room Eleven [david/patrick, E, 4,777] by @unfolded73

David and Patrick decide to go to the Elm Glen motel for some alone time after Jocelyn's baby shower.

Room Sixteen [david/patrick, E, 4,097] by Elsewherefumbling

This is number 9 in the Sex Motel series. It begins the day of the roll out. When David contracts the dreaded poison oak and has a very horrible no good very bad day. Except, of course, now, he has Patrick to help make it all better. _ “I need you.” David whispered. An admission as much as a plea for physical attention. He really did need Patrick he was learning. To make him feel better. To make him feel right. To always be there at the end of the long days. But right now, he really needed Patrick’s hands on him.

Room Seven [david/patrick, E, 11,569] by @ladyflowdi

Patrick loves this motel, much more than he’ll ever say out loud. Thousands of people have slept and fucked and laughed and cried in these rooms. He feels a funny sort of peace, knowing that the story of how he and David fell in love will live between these walls, too. This is the tenth installment of the Sex Motel series, and takes place the night before 4.12 Singles Week.

Room Fifteen [david/patrick, E, 2,463] by @ahurston

This is an installment of the Sex Motel series, taking place just after Singles Week. * David and Patrick need a little privacy after the day's emotional revelations. Now if they can just make it to the Sherwood Motel before combusting...

Room Nine [david/patrick, E, 2,876] by FormerlyEmu

This is an instalment in the Sex Motel series, set immediately following 4.13 - Merry Christmas, Johnny Rose. A few days off, and a scheduled vendor pick-up, give David and Patrick some time to *connect* at the Sherwood Motel.

Room Four [david/patrick, E, 3,295] by @thedidipickles

After finding out that David thought their relationship 'needed a generator,' Patrick has an important question. David does everything he can to answer it.

Room Three [david/patrick, E, 8,469] by @blueink3

“Um, where are we going?” His voice is rough and he’ll need a lengthy spa manicure in Elmdale to fix the way he’s mangling his cuticles. “Thought we could use some alone time,” Patrick replies, eyes never leaving the road. There’s something odd in his tone. Casual. Controlled. “Oh.” 'Alone time' is usually the prelude to a seduction, but David isn’t feeling particularly sexy at the moment. Or, another installment of the Sex Motel series. Takes place after the robbery in 5x02.

the ties that bind [gen, G, 1,388] by oh_la_fraise

Charles goes to visit the Schitt’s Creek Boyles. The rest of the 99 comes along for the ride.

2021

back to the drawing board [david/patrick, T, 12,957] by mycleverusername

“It’s early, but we’ve got a few results coming in. For more, we’ll send you over to Patrick Brewer at the Big Board.” David expects to see another boring old suit, but Patrick Brewer, it turns out, is young, with short brown hair and wide, inviting eyes. “Hi,” he says, smiling. “I’m Patrick Brewer. Let’s take a look at the first numbers coming out of Indiana…” “Ooh,” David says. “Board guy is cute.”

Dandelion Days [david/patrick, E, 26,561] by @asoftplacetoland

David’s first real memory of Patrick involved a scraped knee, a dandelion, and a sunny smile that, upon recounting the tale of how they met, left him blushing so hard Alexis had singsonged “David and Patrick sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” for a solid week. The story of Prince David and Bodyguard Patrick from the very beginning. Now complete!

David Rose is a Sappy Romantic [david/patrick, T, 2,951] by LondonSpirit

They're married. MARRIED. David still can't believe it.He muses a bit about it as he gets ready for his wedding night with his husband.

Djibouti [gen, G, 300] by Rosey_Peach

Family [david/patrick, T, 1,156] by @rmd-writes

Later that afternoon, lying in bed with his head resting on Patrick’s shoulder, David is admiring the way the sunlight glints off his wedding ring as his hand rests on his husband’s chest. Or, what we didn’t see in Happy Ending

get me with those green eyes, baby [alexis/twyla, T, 1,000] by @sarahlevys

Alexis has lived a thousand lives, and has escaped twice as many sketchy, legitimately dangerous situations. But she doesn't know what's scarier: the movie playing out on her television screen, or way her heart's hammering in her chest, keeping time with every one of Twyla's quiet breaths. Written for the prompt: Twyla and Alexis' first kiss while watching a scary movie.

I can take you higher [david/patrick, E, 3,561] by @rockinhamburger

Before the barbecue incident, Patrick had been making progress at lasting longer, whenever they actually managed privacy ... He’s been right back at square one ever since, now that they’re having regular sex again. It’s hard not to feel discouraged about the restoration of his hair trigger when it seemed like they were on the way to getting rid of it. A follow-up to got a bad desire in which Patrick continues to learn how to relinquish control.

people worth missing, things worth sharing [david/patrick, G, 1,018] by @grapehyasynth

Unexpected emotion pulls David away from a lovely summer evening with his husband and in-laws, but it's all because everyone just loves each other so much.

The Windows to the Soul [david/patrick, T, 5,570] by @agoodpersonrose

Nobody ever noticed in New York, but when David starts painting his graffiti in Schitt's Creek, he has to be a little more careful about it.

2022

Eyebrows at Midnight [david/patrick, M, 1,409] by @ineveryuniverse-sc

To StolenAway55n3... Hey babe - to make up for my sassy response, I went ahead and wrote the damn thing. To you, and to all my favorite SBC peeps! Smooches!!!!!! For the prompt: "Begin a story with a stranger at your door at midnight" Thanks a million to my lovely beta and friend goodiecornbread. ❤️

Fracture [david/patrick, M, 9,850] by littlebebecrows

Patrick finds himself in a dreary interrogation room, being grilled about his life by a man who is hidden in shadows. When he is asked to remember a man he has never met before - a man with dark hair and eyes named David - Patrick realizes he may be suffering from amnesia. When he ventures out to search for clues about the man he has apparently forgotten, he very quickly realizes that nothing is as it seems. Although memories of David start to resurface, it may be too late. In a race against time, Patrick struggles to uncover the truth about his memory loss before he loses David forever.

Full of Surprises [david/patrick, G, 712] by @fictasticvoyage

David meets a new friend at the Apothecary and Patrick learns a surprising fact about his husband.

Halfway Down the Aisle: Twylexis Femslash February 2022 [alexis/twyla, E, 2,800] by @sarahlevys

A twylexis drabble collection, following the Femslash February 2022 prompts to tell a continuous story focusing on marriage.

Roses on the Wall [david/patrick, G, 713, CW: suicide, eating disorder] by elifisher96

Patrick was lying in bed for the fourth consecutive hour since waking up.

You've Got the Love to See Me Through [david/patrick, G, 1,584] by lucianowriter

Patrick is home sick so he turns on his favorite TV show. This opens up a conversation between him and David about his continued asexual journey.

2023

600 Candles [david/patrick, G, 5,930] by @a-noble-dragon

David throws a Birthday bash for a dragon. His family help. It's a recipe for disaster!

everything else is just noise [david/patrick, G, 1,054] by OrganizedWatermelon

This is my take on how Patrick's version of "The Best" came to be. Takes place around "Stop Saying Lice!"

2024

You Are the Reason [david/patrick, E, 2,900] by @a-noble-dragon

100 word drabbles. 100% smut.

Stats:

No fanworks for 2017 or 2018 2019: 3 fics/21,540 words 2020: 14 fics/59,593 words 2021: 9 fics/55,074 words 2022: 6 fics/17,068 words 2023: 2 fics/6,984 words 2024: 1 fic/2,900 words Total: 35 fics/163,159 words

#on this day in sc #i normally sort them alphabetically but i couldn't post the sex motel series out of order #even though 2 of them got posted on 2/29 and one on 3/2 #schitt's creek #sc fanfic #david rose #patrick brewer #david x patrick #patrick x david #twyla sands #alexis rose

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