#I could really use a hug from him right now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gotta-winwin · 2 days ago

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(🎄) ... mirth and good cheer - xmas special

⭐ starring: vernon

🎄preview: vernon used to fly back to new york every christmas for one reason only: his childhood best friend. christmas used to be his and y/n’s thing, until he got seemingly too busy to ever return. now, as y/n departs to korea for the first time, she can’t help but wonder if her and vernon would ever cross paths again. vernon, unbeknownst to her, has been wondering the exact same thing. as the boys set up their christmas tree in their dorm, he does his best to ignore how hints of y/n still seemed to linger throughout the holiday air.

tw/cw: idol!vernon x nonidol!reader, childhood friends to lovers, estranged friends, slight miscommunication, fluff, slight angst, best christmas romcom vibes, features svt members, stubborn!reader, equallystubborn!vernon, use of y/n, flips between past and present day

☁️ masterlist & a/n: dropping a vernon x reader fic for our xmas special! doesn't vernon just scream childhood bestie to lover (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ merry christmas my loves!

11 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” Mingyu slapped Vernon’s hand away from the tree they were decorating. “It’s supposed to be symmetrical, not whatever you’re doing.”

Vernon had to admit he wasn’t really paying attention. Their dorm auntie, the one who came around once a week to clean up the place, had baked them gingerbread men as a Christmas gift, and the smell felt like it had seeped into the walls of their dorm. It was a nostalgic smell, one that took him back to his childhood, new york and-

“Vernon?” Mingyu waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening right now?”

He blinked, brought back from his thoughts. “Sorry, hyung. What?”

Mingyu could only let out a deep sigh, moving to place the bauble where he intended it to be. “You’re like this every Christmas. If you miss her so much, why don’t you just fly back?”

Vernon didn’t really know why he wasn’t flying back. He certainly could be, they were off work for the holidays and a plane ticket back wasn’t hard to find. He would be doing himself a favor, putting himself out of misery and finally seeing his childhood best friend. The thing was, he wasn’t really sure if Y/N wanted to see him. He shrugged. “I don’t miss her.” It was a lie and everyone in the room knew it.

CHRISTMAS DAY 2003:

Everyone who knew either of them would say they were smart kids for their age. Both only five, they whispered secrets to each other like little middle schoolers would on the playground.

“My parents say I’m going to Korea.” Vernon whispered to Y/N as they watched a christmas movie. “Forever.” Vernon always had a dramatic, theatrical side to him, even as a child.

Y/N could only frown. “Forever? Why?” She couldn’t imagine her best friend moving anywhere without her. “Am I going too?”

Vernon mirrored her frown on his own face. “I don’t know.” Sensing her sadness, he reached over and gave her a hug. “I’ll visit every year.” He promised.

“Every christmas.” Y/N insisted. She had always loved christmas above all else. “So we can watch movies again.”

Vernon agreed. “Okay. Every christmas. It’ll be like-” He paused, his young mind searching for the word. “Tradition.” He smiled at her, proud of the big word.

“Promise?” Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, reaching out with her pinky, extended. “Pinky promise me.”

Vernon grasped her pinky with his, shaking it firmly. He felt like a grown up, making one of those important business deals. “I promise.” Turning back to the screen, he let out a whine when he realized they had missed the best part. “We missed the part where the grinch screams down the mountain.” He complained. “I wanted to watch that part.”

Y/N got up, searching for the remote. “I’ll turn it back.”

Their dynamic never changed, even as they grew older. Vernon walked through life, Y/N following behind him with eyes filled with admiration, gently nudging the boy whenever he got distracted and began walking off-track. It stayed that way even with the distance, until one Christmas, Y/N woke up and Vernon had not returned.

CHRISTMAS DAY 2016:

“Mom?” Y/N called as she walked slowly down the stairs. She had returned home from university for the holidays and was confused when Vernon wasn’t at his usual spot to welcome her home. “Where’s Vernon?” He was usually back from Korea by now.

She didn’t like the look of pity her mother was giving her. “He didn’t tell you, honey? He’s been so busy with work, looks like he can’t fly back to join us for christmas this year.”

She felt her heart sink. She had been looking forward to spending time with him, even if it was just a couple of days out of the year. “Oh.” Of course, she understood. His work was important and she was sure the kpop industry couldn’t be easy. “That’s okay. I guess he must’ve been too busy to tell me.”

“What are you still doing here?” Joshua frowned at Vernon, who was lying down on his bed. “Shouldn’t you be in New York by now?” He was used to Vernon flying back to New York every christmas since they had met.

Vernon let out a huff. “Not going back this year, Josh.”

“Why not?” His friend pressed, confused. Vernon was usually so excited to go back. “Isn’t your friend going to be sad?”

“I can’t miss any more practice before our comeback. One Christmas should be fine.” Vernon explained, although his voice betrayed his disappointment. He had been looking forward to going back home, to be able to see Y/N again. He thought to himself that one christmas couldn’t hurt, right?

One Christmas missed turned into two. Then four. Then the timing felt too long and awkward and Vernon just never got the confidence to ever go back.

10 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:

Korea was beautiful underneath a sheet of snow. Y/N had landed last night, having made up her mind to give living in Korea a try. Ever since graduating university and landing a job as a screenwriter, her friends and family had always urged her to try working for the Korean film scene.

She supposed she had always just avoided the country because of Vernon.

Her new job writing for some K-drama started after New Years. She thought maybe spending Christmas in a new place would bring back the mirth and good cheer the holiday used to give her, but she knew she was here for a different reason. A selfish and pathetic one. It burned her, that a part of her still wished to bump into Vernon after all these years. She knew he was doing well, SEVENTEEN was soaring through new heights and she had kept tabs on his ongoing success. It was the only way she kept going: his large internet presence sometimes made it feel like he never even left at all.

It hurt her the most that he could be doing so well without ever seeing her again.

Rounding the corner to the coffee shop, she rubbed her raw hands to regain heat. Ordering, she was relieved to find out she could still hold a conversation in Korean. It had gone rusty, the only people she ever used Korean with back home was Vernon’s dad and sister.

“Hello?” Someone from behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

She was greeted by a slightly taller, blond man, sporting black rimmed glasses and holding a cup of iced coffee. Her mind short circuiting a bit from the sudden Korean, she paused, trying to recollect her thoughts before replying. “I don’t think so?”

The man’s eyes widened in sudden recognition. “You’re the girl in the Christmas photos!” He exclaimed with wonder, pointing at her as if they were long lost friends.

She squinted, giving him another look over. “Um..” She frowned, quite sure she didn’t know this man.

“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly at her, extending his hand for a handshake. “That probably came out wrong. You’re Vernon’s friend from New York, right? I’ve seen you in the pictures on his wall.”

She blanched, all of a sudden feeling very light and disoriented. “I’m sorry.” She smiled politely, still racking her brain furiously for the guy’s name. “How do you know Vernon?”

“I’m Seungkwan.” He explained, dropping her hand. “Vernon’s bandmate.”

She let out a sound of realization. “Ah~” She knew who he was. “Seungkwan. Sorry, I didn’t expect you to have blonde hair now.”

Chuckling at her shy admission, Seungkwan felt strangely sad to see the girl in Korea. “When did you come to Korea?” He asked, knowing Vernon would lose his shit if he found out they had been in the same location for a while.

“I arrived just last night.”

He left out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Okay, at least it hadn’t been very long. “You should come to our Christmas party.” He suggested, knowing Vernon would be there. “It’s being hosted at Coups hyung’s house this year, and everyone will be there.”

Y/N shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to make things weird.” She already caught on to the fact that Seungkwan knew all about her and Vernon’s falling out, or lack of one.

“You wouldn’t.” He insisted. “You must come. I’d hate to see you spend Christmas by yourself.”

It didn’t take much for Y/N to relent. She supposed a part of her had been looking for a chance to see Vernon again. “Alright. I’ll stop by and say a quick hi to everyone.”

Seungkwan’s smile was contagious as he beamed, grabbing a napkin to scribble Scoups’ address onto it and handing it to her. “It’s at 7pm on the 24th. Bring a present- something small.” He hurriedly gave her all the details as he left, mumbling about being late for a company meeting and how lovely it was to finally meet Vernon’s mystery girl.

Holding the napkin in her still freezing hand, Y/N felt utterly shipwrecked as she watched Seungkwan leave. Nine days was enough to prepare her heart to see Vernon again, right?

12 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS 2024:

The frost in the air bit at Y/N’s face and neck as she quickly rang the doorbell to Seungcheol’s home. It was smaller than she had expected it to be, homey and comfortably situated in between two other larger houses.

“Y/N!” Seungkwan greeted her as he opened the door, tugging her in. “Oh, look at you. You must be freezing. Come in, come in.” Taking her coat from her and hanging it up, he beamed down at her. “I’m so glad you actually came.”

She bit back a smile, taking off her shoes. “I couldn’t turn down an invitation from Vernon’s friends.”

“Vernon’s in the living room with the others.” Seungkwan pointed down the hall, directing her over.

Y/N paused, loitering in the hallway between the door to the living room and the door to the kitchen. She felt strangely pulled towards the kitchen, knowing it’d be safe without the chance of a potential run-in with Vernon. Turning decisively towards the kitchen, she pretended not to hear Seungkwan’s deep sigh as he followed her in, knowing the boy was disappointed she had run away.

“It’s the girl from Vernon’s photos!” Hoshi sprung off the kitchen island to greet her, handing her a cup of mystery liquid.

She sniffed it before cringing away at the strong liquor scent. “That’s me.” She mumbled, shoulders sagging a little. “Does he really still have photos of me up?

Everyone in the kitchen nodded simultaneously. “It’s been on his wall since we were trainees.” Joshua informed her, his eyes holding a teasing glint. “Every time we move places he just puts it back up.”

Y/N didn’t really know what to do with that information. “Oh.” She replied, looking down in her cup, thinking. “I didn’t know that.”

Seungkwan let out a loud sigh once again. “You should go talk to him.”

She looked up.

“Please.” He added, his tone bordering on begging. “He’s been so grumpy. Especially during the holiday season. I got a pillow to the face for asking him a simple question yesterday.” He grumbled out, complaining about his moody roommate.

“What did you ask him?” Joshua asked, mildly curious.

Seungkwan shrugged. “Just if he was going back to New York.”

“Of course he threw a pillow at you.” Joshua rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised he didn’t just deck you, with how you were antagonizing him. You know very well he hasn’t gone back in years.”

Y/N watched the conversation silently, gagging quietly as she sipped the concoction Hoshi had handed her. She absorbed the information diligently, her eyes widening the more information she got on Vernon. Distance had turned him into a stranger - and now, well, she couldn’t really say she knew him at all. It was strange, having to admit someone she used to read like the back of her own hand was someone she now didn’t know at all.

“I’m going to the living room.” She decided, having had enough of the topic. If she kept listening to them talk about Vernon’s struggles and heartache about leaving her in New York one more minute she might find herself leaving for the night. Being in the same room with Vernon was just going to be awkward silence anyways. She knew he wasn’t brave enough to approach her. At least not tonight.

“Y/N!”

It was Mingyu and Wonwoo who greeted her from the couch, the two of them in the middle of an intense round of what looked to be Mariokart. They waved at her from their place, inviting her over to sit next to them. She was painfully aware of Vernon’s eyes staring at her from his place on the rug, fingers busy with a random puzzle that was lying out.

“Hi guys.” She smiled, sitting down, laughing when Mingyu pushed Wonwoo in an attempt to disrupt his driving.

“We didn’t know you were in Korea for Christmas!” Mingyu exclaimed. “Good thing Seungkwan bumped into you when he did and invited you over.”

She glanced at Vernon, who was doing his best to pretend like he wasn’t interested in their conversation. “Yeah. I moved here recently actually. Got a job writing for a TV show.”

Vernon’s eyes widened as he fixed his stare against the white rug.

“That’s cool.” Wonwoo smiled at Y/N, happy for her. “It’s good that you’re in Korea now.” He side eyed Vernon, frowning when he realized the boy hadn’t even spoken to Y/N. Nudging him with his foot, he gestured with his gaze. “Did you hear Vernon? Y/N got a job here.”

Vernon nodded stiffly before standing up. “I think Cheol hyung’s calling me, I’ll- I’ll go see what he wants.” And just like that he was gone, rushing out of the living room.

Wonwoo looked apologetically at Y/N. “I’m sorry about that.”

She shrugged, although her heart had cracked at the movement. “It’s okay.”

“Maybe now that you’re in Korea you guys can be friends again?” Mingyu suggested quietly, although a part of him wasn’t really certain about it. “Maybe?”

“Maybe.” She mumbled, taking another sip of her drink, feeling her face flush with heat. Anger or embarrassment, she couldn’t tell.

Maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but Y/N could feel her lips start to loosen the more she sat with Mingyu and Wonwoo, the party heading later into the night.

“You know I used to hate you guys.” She admitted all of a sudden, jolting both boys out of whatever conversation they were having.

“What?” Wonwoo frowned. “Why?”

“I hated Vernon for choosing you guys over me.” She lowered her eyes to the floor, feeling ashamed. “I know it’s childish of me, but hating you guys was how I dealt with it. I couldn’t bring myself to hate Vernon for his own actions.”

Mingyu looked at her with sad eyes as he patted her on the back gently. “I get that.” He reassured her, and she looked over at Wonwoo who was nodding as well.

“Do you still hate us?” Wonwoo asked, his voice calm.

She shook her head. “No. So I guess I’m just-” She paused. “Confused now.”

She hated how pitiful their looks made her feel as she sat there, nursing her half finished drink, mind spinning. Perhaps it was time to leave her silly childhood infatuation with Vernon in the past. It seemed like he had done so already anyways.

10 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS 2024:

Vernon felt like throwing up the moment he saw Y/N enter the party. It felt like a vision, something he had conjured up within his own mind, until the others had greeted her and shattered his vision into reality.

“Talk to her, you moron.” Seungkwan nudged him. He had retreated from the living room into the kitchen the moment Y/N had sat down with the others on the couch. It physically stung to be in the same room as her, with all the knowledge that he had failed her and their once cherished friendship.

He took another gulp of his drink instead of answering Seungkwan.

“She clearly still loves you, y’know.” The boy continued upon hearing Vernon’s silence. “Or else she wouldn’t be here. And didn’t you always tell us Y/N would follow you around like a puppy whenever you were back home as kids?”

Screw Seungkwan and his amazing, awfully selective memory.

“So?” Vernon mumbled, rolling his shoulders back and feeling himself tense. “Things change.”

“You’ve changed.”

Vernon stared at his friend, thrown off by the sudden harsh truths. “What?”

“I don’t think she’s changed at all, Vernon.” Seungkwan observed. “It’s you who’s changed and you who has to fix it.” He paused. “Or at least explain it to her. Why you don’t want to be friends anymore.”

“I do want to be friends.” He stated plainly.

Seungkwan cut his eyes at him, exasperated. “Then tell her that. Jeez, bro. You suck at this.”

“We’re swapping presents now!” Seungcheol poked his head out from behind the hallway door. “Everyone in the living room!”

Vernon grabbed his present from the counter and headed in behind Seungkwan and Joshua, turning the box in his hands as he examined the poor wrapping job he had done last night. He had bought the most generic gift he could find, knowing it was going to be a random swap with the boys. The thing he hadn’t accounted for was Y/N showing up - and now it had thrown both his present and him off the game.

“Grab a pair.” Seungcheol announced loudly to everyone in the room, as there was a mad scramble for partners.

Vernon found himself standing alone in the midst of his bandmates all already coupled up, limbs tangled together in an awkward mad dash for a partner. His eyes met the only other person with a partner and he stifled a pained cry.

“It looks like you and Y/N are exchanging gifts this year, Non.” Seungkwan shot him a large grin from his spot next to Mingyu.

He knew this had to be preplanned - fate couldn’t be this cruel, right?

“Go on.” Seungkwan poked him in the back, urging him to approach Y/N, who suddenly seemed to be very captivated by a nearby portrait of Seungcheol and Kkmua, placed on the shelf next to her. She stared at it intensely, although Vernon knew she was still hyper-aware of the fact that he was slowly walking towards her. She had that funny way of darting her eyes towards the person she was avoiding while not facing in their direction.

“Y/N.” Her name sounded so foreign yet so familiar across his tongue as he spoke.

“Vernon.”

Her voice felt like coming home.

“Here.” He placed his gift in her hands as he took hers, turning it awkwardly in his hands. “What is it?” He asked, shaking it gently.

The corners of her mouth lifted. “Telling you would defeat the purpose of it being a surprise.”

“You said that last time too.”

He watched her stiffen at his words and he immediately regretted bringing up the past. They both knew last time had been years ago.

“I guess I did.” She replied stiffly, turning his gift in her hands. “What’s yours?”

“Thought you liked your presents to be a surprise?” He recalled, remembering how she used to whine that he must wrap her presents, when the teenage him had insisted that just putting it in a bag would be fine.

“I do.” Her tone made it sound like she was just remembering that fact herself. She looked up and shot him an awkward smile. “I guess I don’t really know what to say.”

“Me either.”

He could’ve sworn he saw her face drop at his words.

They separated soon after, the uncomfortable silence taking over and suffocating them both out of the vicinity of each other. Vernon returned to his spot in the kitchen, picking at the pieces of takeout still leftover on the counter, listening to the others squabble over meaningless things.

He watched Y/N leave, feet rooted by the hallway door and mouth firmly shut closed - he didn’t trust himself to say goodbye to her - he knew that if he had, a million unsaid words would have spilled out and the night would have ended terribly for the both of them. But it was the fear that kept him still most of all, as he watched her exchange numbers with Seungkwan, hugging the others and promising to keep in touch. He stayed as still as a statue as the door shut behind her.

“You idiot.” Seungkwan turned to face him as soon as he locked the door.

“Seungkwan.” Seungcheol’s warning tone made Vernon look at him. He was sending a strong warning glance at the boy.

“What?” Seungkwan protested. “He is being stupid.”

“I think I’m going to head back.” Vernon mumbled, grabbing his coat and hurriedly throwing it on, Y/N’s gift clutched tightly under his arm as he headed for the door. “Thanks for the party, Coups hyung.” He called behind him, shutting the door behind him and welcoming in the cool, biting winter air.

He released the pent up breath that had been choking him all night and furiously wiped away the tears that had begun to form the moment he shut the door behind him.

“Idiot.” He quietly chided himself. “So stupid.”

CHRISTMAS 2018:

“Are you really never going back to New York?” Joshua prodded at his arm with an insistent jab of a finger.

Vernon hummed in response. “There’s no point. My family prefers coming to Korea for the holidays anyways. They get to visit family here and everything.”

“What about your girlfriend?”

Vernon turned his head to see Joshua sporting a shit eating grin. “You know she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Might as well be.” He shrugged, pointing at the various photos that featured her against his wall. “Look at your pathetic loving gaze at her in all of these photos. You’re not even looking at the camera in any of these.”

Vernon frowned at his comment, taking a good look at the photos and realizing Joshua was right. “Doesn’t matter what I feel, hyung. She’s not my girlfriend.”

“She’ll never be if you don’t go back.” Joshua suddenly got serious, as he shifted in his seat to look at Vernon better. “Is there an actual reason why you won’t go back? I know we were too busy the last two years but this year we’re free.”

Vernon stayed silent even though the answer was clear as day in his mind. He was scared, terrified even. Terrified he had hurt her by neglecting her due to his heavy schedules, that she would slam the door in his face if he tried to visit her. “I don’t want to see her hate me.” He finally spat out, cringing as he said it.

Joshua let out a tiny noise of understanding. “So you’re avoiding her. Pretending so you don’t have to deal with the consequences.”

“When you put it like that you make me sound like an asshole.”

Joshua gave him a look that bordered on pitiful. “I don’t know what to tell you, man.”

“I’d rather remember her like this, y’know?” He said, pointing at the way she smiled at him in the pictures on his wall. “Instead of-”

“She might not hate you.” Joshua reminded him quietly from next to him.

“I really, really doubt that, hyung.”

5 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS:

It wasn’t computing properly into Vernon’s head that you had just gotten him the one thing he’s been wanting all his life.

He had been ogling the Novation Launchpad Pro that was currently sitting on his work table for the last hour, not really believing what he was seeing with his own two eyes. Unwrapping it had been a heart attack in of itself, as he opened up Y/N’s present to reveal the one thing that had been sitting on the top of his childhood wish list since he could remember. Even now, as a famous artist who could afford the splurge, he had never gotten it for himself, knowing it was a luxury and a purchase he didn’t necessarily need.

“What the fuck, Y/N.” He muttered in disbelief, sliding his palm down his face as he continued to stare at the gift. It was fucking fantastic and exactly what he wanted, and it made him feel even worse about the whole situation.

She might not hate you. He recalled the words Joshua had told him one time, Christmases ago.

“Someone who hated me wouldn’t have gotten me this, right?” He said aloud to himself, reaching a timid hand out to fiddle with the launchpad controls. “How did she even know we’d be exchanging gifts anyways?” And how on earth does she know I never got myself one? In what felt like a split second decision, Vernon felt himself walking towards the door of his apartment, sliding his shoes on and grabbing his keys - only one destination in mind. He had to fix this, somehow. Because there was no fucking way she still hated him.

4 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS:

She would’ve complained that the sudden doorbell at 3am woke her up but she hadn’t really been sleeping. Y/N had been lying in bed with her eyes wide open since the moment she’d gotten home, the bag of chocolates and various snacks from Vernon left on her kitchen counter. She had stifled a laugh when she opened it - even till this day, Vernon’s go to gift was still the same. Chocolate and snacks can never fail, he had told her, defending his choice of gift. Especially when you don’t know the person too well.

She supposed that line made sense for their situation too.

“Vernon?” She squinted at the figure standing on her porch in the dark. “What are you doing here?” She rubbed her eyes, mildly wondering if she was dreaming.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he stared down at her. “You got me the launchpad.”

She blinked. “Yeah.”

“How’d you know?”

She stared back at him, stunned at his bluntness and the randomness of the current setting. “You never shut up about it.”

His mouth opened and closed again. She watched as he tried looking for words, his vocabulary ultimately failing him.

“Come inside.” She said quietly, noticing how the harsh winter wind blew at his thin coat. Dragging him gently inside, she shut the door behind them both, turning around awkwardly to face him. She never thought she’d ever see him in his apartment - yet he looked so perfect.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, eyes darting around her place, taking it all in. “I know it’s late.” Glancing down at her pajamas, his lips quivered in a small smile. “Cute.”

“What?” She stared at him indignantly, completely thrown off by his behaviour. “Are you drunk?” She reached out a hand to touch his face, trying to check his temperature, but he caught her hand in his before she could reach.

“I’m not drunk, Y/N.” He dropped her hand like it had burned him.

“Then what are you here for?”

She watched him moisten his lips as he stalled for time.

“I wanted to say sorry.” He finally said, his words tumbling out as if they had been held back for long enough. “I shouldn’t have cut you off like that.”

She thought she’d have a more visceral reaction to the apology she had been waiting for all this time, but she didn’t. “Why are you saying this now? It’s been nearly ten years, Vernon.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Her shoulders sagged at his words and the sight of his dejected, ashamed face. “Why didn’t you come back? Or text me?” She asked him, pleading for an answer.

He finally looked up and met her eyes. “I guess I was scared. I got busy one year and didn’t go back- and I neglected our friendship. And then-” He paused, his voice breaking. “I left, and time passed and staying away felt simpler than going back. No goodbye felt better than a bad one.”

“It wouldn’t have been a bad goodbye.”

He shook his head. “You hated me.”

She looked away, remembering all the times she had cursed him for leaving her behind when she was younger. “Maybe. But never for long.” She mustered all her courage to tell him her next words. “I loved you too much to hate you for very long.”

Vernon blinked at her. “You loved me?”

She hummed in response, still not quite looking at him. They stood there, by her door, in the dim lights of her apartment.

“How did you even get my address?” She suddenly asked, forgetting he shouldn’t have known where to find her.

Vernon stayed silent, his mind still reeling from the sudden love confession. She used to love me?

“Vernon.” Y/N nudged him.

“Oh.” He finally responded, although his own voice felt like light years away as his mind continued to reel. “I asked my sister. Didn’t know you guys still talked.”

“Oh.”

“You used to love me?” He asked, incredulous, not quite believing her words. “Why?”

She laughed, and the sound wrapped around Vernon like her hugs used to. “What do you mean, why? Of course I loved you. I followed you around like a lost kid our entire childhood.”

“I loved you too, y’know.”

Her smile dropped as she paused mid-laugh. “What?”

He took a step closer to her, unsure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Vernon searched her eyes for some figment of affection, for truth, for the way she used to look at him when they were younger. “I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.” He finally admitted. “I definitely tried to, but your hold on me lasted through distance and time.”

“Me too.”

“What?”

“I never stopped loving you too.”

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winterstelltales · 1 day ago

Text

Coffee and Vanilla

word count: 1k

pairing: zayne x reader

summary: you just can't get enough of zayne's scent

content tags: winter setting, cuddling, loads of kisses

warning: slightly suggestive at the end

a/n: fic was inspired by post by @wolfofcelestia

The air inside the cabin was surprisingly warm. Despite the heavy snow storm raging outside, inside was filled with a cozy silence, only interrupted by the crisp sounds of the wood crackling by the fireplace every now and then.

The room was bathed in a pleasant glow, and the scent of fresh snow seemed to linger around, but it wasn’t enough to conceal the sweet smell of hot chocolate and the plate of cookies placed in front of you.

You didn’t know what it was, maybe it was your sense of awareness as a hunter that made you pick up all these at once, and you were suddenly filled with an overwhelming feeling that you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t bad, you were partly sure it was because you were overjoyed, but it still left a heavy something inside you.. With nothing to do about it, you tightened your arms around the person you were cuddling with, burying your face further into his neck and took a deep breath.

His scent easily conquered everything. With Zayne taking a break from the hospital for a long time in a while, he didn’t smell much like disinfectant and hospital anymore. Sure, it was still there, a faint scent that you hoped would never leave him because you had gotten so used to it and you knew you were going to miss it if it ever disappeared.

But with his usual scent gone, only the warm sandalwood and touch of sugary scent of pastries remained, though you were certain the latter was because he had stuffed himself up with some unhealthy amount of desserts, justifying it with the excuse that it was the holiday season.

You indulged him of course, just as he has done countless times in the past when you particularly felt like you didn’t want to follow his doctor’s orders.

Zayne didn’t react immediately as always, his brows furrowed a bit, one hand coming up to pat the top of your head as he observed your sudden burst of affection.

You both were already cuddling in front of the fireplace, unable to go out because of the sudden snow storm that had occurred. You sat sideways on Zayne's lap, head supported on his broad shoulder while his right hand played with your hands lying on your lap.

“What is it?” His gentle voice knocked on the door of your thoughts, his hand coming back up to wrap around your waist.

But you weren’t capable of giving him an answer, so you took another deep breath and tightened your arms around him more.

You weren’t sure if you could consume someone’s scent, but you were desperate for Zayne’s.

“It’s not that I don’t love you hugging me, my love, but I’m having trouble breathing,” his voice sounded strained in your ear. This time, you immediately loosened your arms around him, looking up at him with apologetic eyes.

“Sorry,” you said softly.

The corners of his mouth turned up, “don't apologize,” he said, his hand coming up to brush a stray hair on your face.

“Is something bothering you?”

You stayed silent for a second, then rested your cheek on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart.

“No,” you said and lifted your chin, smiling, “You just smell really good.”

Zayne pursed his lips, the tips of his ears turning red almost immediately. He was never good at receiving compliments, but that didn’t mean you were ever going to stop giving them.

He coughed slightly, turning his head away for a bit.

You traced his sweater covered chest with your fingers, drawing simple patterns, “Like a little bit of coffee and a little bit of vanilla,” you continued, nosing his slightly red cheek, inhaling his scent deep to your core. His newly shaved face was soft to the touch, and it was getting warm more and more as words left your mouth.

A smile grazed your lips as you kissed him softly on his ear, making his breath hitched.

Zayne’s hand on your waist tightened, squeezing you in warning. The blanket covering both of you had slided off by now, exposing you to the cabin air.

“Did you use that sandalwood soap I bought you?” you asked, adjusting yourself somewhat to straddle him.

Now with your whole body facing him, Zayne had no choice but to look at your face with his arms resting at your sides. Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed, the gentle movement drawing your attention to his neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” You said softly, palming his neck with your hand.

You leaned in and pecked his lips, pressing your face against his forehead.

You were certain that even if you lived a thousand lifetimes, you could never fully grasp the depth of Zayne's beauty. It was a wonder that defied time, something you could admire endlessly, yet never quite get enough of.

His hand caught yours in a gentle grip, his flustered state disappearing in a blink of an eye as he stared at you with intense eyes, gaze falling on to your lips, “Not nearly as beautiful as you.”

And suddenly you were aware of everything again, but nothing was quite as alarming as the hard thing resting underneath you. Blinking, you returned your gaze back to Zayne, eyes twinkling with excitement.

“Oh”

“Oh?” Zayne lifted an eyebrow and before you knew it he was grabbing you by the waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him until everything you could feel was the warmth radiating off him and his hard length resting under you.

You support yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, mouth slightly agape as you try to calm yourself down.

Seeing you like that was enough for Zayne, his lips found your neck instantly, peppering your skin with kisses that turn into little bites and sucks. You gasp softly, letting the weight of your body fall onto him.

One of his hands finds themself under your sweater, calloused fingers trails up your spine, rousing a path of goosebumps as you lean more into his embrace.

“It looks like I've been far too lenient with you,” Zayne’s voice low and resonant, sending soft vibrations against your neck as he spoke.

His nose presses against your skin, inhaling and tracing a path on your neck with his teeth before whispering, “Since you seem to enjoy teasing me so much, maybe it’s time I return the favor.”

dividers by @rookthornesartistry

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #lnds zayne #lads x reader #zayne fic #zayne x reader #zayne x mc

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amyispxnk · 2 days ago

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Silent Night

Summary - You're back from college for the holidays, and you've decided on exactly what you want for Christmas - Joel Miller's cock.

A/N: this was such a last minute fic im ngl rn. wasn't even planning on posting a Christmas fic, let alone my FIRST dbf joel miller smut?? anyway, i hope everyone enjoys. happy Christmas<3

Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: smut, some good ole daddy kink, age gap (20+ years), Joel is pretty pervy in this, alcohol, divorce mentions. Not proofread because I'm tired

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

When you left for college all that time ago, Joel didn't have any strong feelings towards you. You were his best friend's kid, so naturally he saw you often, and got close with you. You were a sweet kid, kind, smart (more than him, he reckoned), and very.. determined when you wanted to be.

Now you're back for Christmas, and as he sees you exiting your dad's car, hurrying over to him, yelling “Joel! Joel! Oh, I missed you so much!” he realises how fucked up his mind might be.

Any normal guy who was reuniting with a girl he'd known since she was a teenager, and a girl he had at least 20 years on, would not be looking at how her tits bounced in her crop top, or how her leggings were tight enough to let him see just how perfect your ass was.

But Joel wasn't normal, he wasn't a good man, so he was looking for all of those things. If he'd actually been looking at your face, maybe he'd have seen you smirking. Maybe he'd have realised you wore those clothes for exactly this reason.

Joel, or dad's best buddy, Mr Miller, as you'd known him until you were 16 and couldn't be bothered to pay respect to your elders, had been a part of your life for a while.

Ever since your mom took off, Joel was coming around far more often and, in his own gruff and quiet way, was taking care of you more than your own father was at the time.

Nowadays, you didn't really have any resentment towards your father because of this - he'd just gotten divorced, he was going through a rough time.

But teenage you definitely did, and having Joel step in like that definitely left you with mixed feelings.

If things weren't the way they were back then, you'd probably have developed this all-encompassing crush on him even earlier.

When you were leaving for college though, the crush suddenly dived into your life, crashing down and muddling up everything you thought you knew about yourself.

Now, as you returned back home at last, you knew you had to have him, or you feared you might just lose it.

He was everything a girl.. like you, could want right now. Old, brooding, mysterious, and so fucking hot.

So as you hopped over to him where he stood in his front lawn, you made sure to hug him tight and make sure he could really feel that you weren't wearing a bra. You knew he was looking already, so why not let him feel it?

He hesitated for a moment - probably struggling with his boner which you swore you could already feel - before bringing his arms around you and clapping you on the back.

“I missed you so much, Mr Miller.” You hum sweetly, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His own eyes almost flutter shut at the name you chose to use for him, and he manages to choke out a soft missed ya too, darlin’.

That darlin’ would be enough to make you come tonight.

Your dad finally turns around after unloading your luggage and turning the car off, greeting Joel before the two of you head to your house.

The next day, it's Christmas Eve. Dinner rolls around, and you check over your makeup one more time. You don't want it to be too much - it would look weird, considering it was only Joel coming over (your dad was a solitary creature) - but you still had to look good for him.

The doorbell rings and you almost trip down the stairs. “I'll get it, dad!” You yell, and he thanks you, completely unaware of your motives.

You open the door, biting back a smirk when Joel immediately looks you up and down, only just managing to tear his eyes away from your chest.

“Hi, Mr Miller. It's so good to see you.” You smile sweetly.

“Hi, sweetheart… told ya y’dont have ta call me that. Joel's fine.” He says softly, eyes still a little hazy.

You step back to let him inside and immediately take one of the beers he'd brought over once he sets the case down.

“Y’old enough to drink that, honey?” He teases, mind finally out of the gutter for now.

“I'm 21 in like.. a month. It's fineeee.” You smirk, tipping your head back and taking a big swig, showing off the long column of your neck and the swell of your breasts.

His mind is back in the gutter.

Your eyes are off him for now, so he allows him to drink in the sight of you properly. A silly Christmas hat atop your curled, gorgeous hair; red sweater tight around your breasts, little candy-canes dotted around it; your skirt, far too short and he's almost certain you're teasing him now, tights underneath making him want to rip them clean off of you. Your makeup looks perfect, red lips which he knows would look perfect around his cock, mascara which he can picture smudged and ruined from tears and sweat while you fuck-

“Joel, y’made it! Cmon, sit with me.” Your dad grins, and Joel's eyes widen. What the fuck is wrong with him? He cannot be thinking that way about you.

He shakes his head, muttering something to himself before going to sit with your dad.

Joel finally thinks he'll have some reprieve from your incessant teasing, letting out a tired sigh as he sits on the couch, your dad on the armchair.

“Tired already, old man?” Your dad teases.

“You're older than me, asshole.” Joel grunts, earning him a chuckle.

Just then, you appear in the doorway. Of course, of-fucking-course, you'd decide to watch TV with them tonight. It's soccer, for Christ's sake, you'd always get bored out of your mind and run upstairs to go on your phone whenever the game was on.

Not today though, much to Joel's dismay.

“What're you watching?” You ask, sitting beside Joel. He tries to mask his discomfort.

“Just soccer hon, I know you don't like-” your dad starts, but you quickly cut him off.

“No, no! It's fine. I'll try watching it tonight.” You smile softly, and settle in to watch.

You clearly get bored after about 5 minutes, sighing softly.

“You really find this interesting?” You murmur to Joel, now having made yourself comfortable on his shoulder. He tried to make himself as stiff as possible when you first lay on him, but you were persistent as always, and he just gave in.

“Ain't nobody forcin’ you to watch it.” He argues, and you keep quiet after that, eventually getting up to go get the food ready.

Dinner is yet another trial for Joel. You've gotten just as frustrated and impatient as he is, it seems.

Leaning in front of him when serving the food, giving him a clear view of your tits. Not to mention you never serve food, set the table, but all of a sudden you're acting like little miss helpful today.

‘Accidentally’ dropping a cup and bending over in his eyeshot to pick it up.

Sitting beside him at the table instead of with your dad.

When your hand moves to his thigh, he bolts upright, earning him a look from your dad.

“Bathroom,” is all he can get out before he's rushing upstairs.

“Fucking kid. Thinks she can fuckin’.. pull all this shit with me.. thinks she can act like this in front of her dad.. fuck me.” He mutters to himself, despite undoing his belt and pulling his cock out, barely stifling his groan when he spits on his palm and starts tugging at his length so fast it's almost painful.

His mind conjures up all sorts of unholy images, and he's on the brink of release when- “Mr Miller,” you coo, knocking on the door. “is everything okay? You've been gone for like 10 minutes. Was it something in the food?”

He's so angry, so pent-up, he wants to pull you in here and just fuck that goddamn attitude out of you.

He's deathly silent, flushing, turning on the sink as he pulls his pants up, blue-balled like he'd never been before, and exiting the bathroom.

“Everything is fine.” He grits out, fists clenched as he walks past you. You eye his bulge and smirk before practically skipping down the stairs.

“He said everything's fine, daddy.” You smile to your dad, and he almost collapses. He swears he sees god for a second.

That word coming out of your mouth should absolutely not turn him on like it just did - but it did.

The rest of dinner, he's almost silent, just gulping down beer and chewing on his now cold turkey. You don't try anything with him, actually a little afraid he might just get up and leave.

Instead, you wait until the movie.

Your dad puts Die Hard on, and after a lengthy argument about whether or not it even counts as a Christmas movie, - you insist it's not and will carry that with you to the grave - you settle beside Joel.

Joel thinks he's made it through the worst of the evening, but then you shiver. You shiver again, and then you pout, and he feels obliged to ask.

“Are you cold?”

“Yeah.. can I have some of the blanket?” You whisper. Your dad is practically falling asleep in the armchair.

He goes to hand you the blanket, and you, devious as ever, put it over both of your laps, cuddling up to Joel even more.

He's on full alert right now, stiff as a log, waiting for your next game.

The movie goes on, and then your hand creeps under the sheet. Moving from the side, to your own lap, to his arm, then to his leg-

“What're you-” he grunts, but you just shush him.

“I'm trying to watch the movie, Joel.” You huff, as if your hand isn't on his cock right now.

His eyes are darting between you, the screen, his lap under the blanket, and your dad. Way too much is going on, and as you start palming him, he lets out the most pained groan. He sees you biting your lip and he's so angry, so horny, he doesn't know what to do with himself.

Your dad suddenly wakes up, and the bubble pops. You pretend you're asleep on Joel's shoulder, and you know you've won when Joel tells your dad to just go on up, that he'll make sure she gets to bed.

As soon as your dad's bedroom door shuts, Joel grabs your jaw, glaring at you.

“Exactly what the fuck do you think you're doing, little girl?” He spits, and you giggle softly.

“‘m not doing anyth- ow, Joel!” You whimper when he squeezes your cheeks together.

“You gonna tell the truth now? Gonna answer me properly?” He says, tone and eyes cold as the ice on your driveway.

You nod, trying to stifle your whimper. He eases the grip on your jaw, still holding it, before asking you again.

“What do you think you're doing?” He says through clenched teeth, and you know he's not fucking around anymore.

“I.. I just..” Fuck it, you may as well shoot your shot, otherwise what was the point of everything tonight anyway?

“I wanted you to fuck me, Joel.”

Creak goes the step at the top of your staircase, and you squeak, jumping off the couch as Joel pulls the blanket and a pillow over his lap. You rush upstairs past your dad, hurriedly bidding him goodnight before slamming your door.

“Just came to grab my phone. Everythin' alright..?” He asks, brows furrowed at your skittish behaviour.

Joel nods, and your dad leaves him alone.

His cock has been throbbing for hours. So long that it's actually painful. But now he can't do anything. You and your dad are upstairs, you'll be asleep in 5 minutes, and Joel will just have to pretend it's your pussy wrapped around his length when he fucks his fist in the guest bedroom tonight.

Guilt gnaws away at him as he cleans his come off of his hand and stomach, tossing the tissues into the bin before changing into some sweats and managing to fall asleep after half an hour of tossing and turning.

The world seems to hate him, since he wakes up at 2am, heading to the bathroom only to walk past your bedroom and hear you moaning. He can't make out what you're moaning - but he has a good idea - and he's thankful your doors are quiet when he opens the one to your room.

You're facing away from the door, legs spread, face in your pillow as your hips buck, fingers working your pussy furiously.

“Joel, Joel, fuck-” you gasp, whimpering as you get close.

Fuck this.

If he didn't get to come for the entire evening, you did not get to come right now.

He walks over to you, morales abandoned, and growls your name.

You squeak, biting your lip as you turn and look at him. You'd been so close, but now you're too petrified to finish.

“Joel, I-”

“Not another word.”

It's the last thing he says before he flips you back onto your stomach, pushing your head down into the pillows.

“You're gonna be a good girl and shut the fuck up while I fuck this needy pussy. You understand me?”

You part your lips to reply, earning a spank to your ass.

“Can't fuckin’ listen, can ya? No talking, baby.”

You nod, whimpering as he pushes your head back down and pulls your soaked panties off, tossing them onto the floor.

“Fuck, look at her. Drippin’ for me, ain't she? Didn't know you were such a slut, babygirl.” He teases, knuckles dragging along your slit, and you cry into the pillow, hips bucking back against his hand.

Another spank, making you moan, trying to stop your hips from bucking once more.

“You take what you're fucking given. Do you understand me?”

You nod, having learnt from your mistakes.

“Good girl. Knew you could listen for me.” He coos, before he's thrusting two of his thick fingers into your dripping heat.

You gasp and whine, moaning his name into the pillow, almost tearing your sheets with how hard you grip them.

“That's right.. moan my name. Fuckin’ slut.” He grunts, head ducking down to tease your clit with his tongue. You almost lose it, starting to clench hard and fast around his fingers. You're right on the edge when he pulls away.

“Joel!” You practically sob, deflating as your orgasm drifts away.

“Shh, shh. You thought you could tease me all night and still get off? Y’thought wrong, honey.” He coos, mocking, pulling down his sweatpants and slicking up his cock with your wetness, giving you no warning as he starts to push in.

“Ohh, fuck. Knew you'd be tight for me, baby. That's it, good girl.” He groans, bottoming out. He allows you to cry his name into the pillow, but when he starts really fucking you, it gets too much.

He pulls out to the tip before slamming back into you, making you almost scream, back arching and hips bucking - unsure if you want him to get out, or fuck you even harder.

He decides for you, starting to pound into you. The only sounds in the room are your broken moans, his heavy breathing, and the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin.

“Joel- Joel- pl-please I'm gonna come- please Daddy-” you moan, and his hips stutter before he's pulling you up by your hair, his back to your chest when he resumes his aggressive thrusts.

“Shut- the fuck- up.” He pants in-between thrusts, and you whimper, brows drawing together as you get close. He starts rubbing your clit and you see stars, unable to stop yourself from coming.

“Fuckfuckfuck yes, yes daddy- oh my god-” you sob, before he's pulling out and manhandling you onto your back, thrusting back inside to the hilt, palm covering your mouth.

“You better shut up right now unless you want your real daddy to wake up, find us here like this-” you curse silently when you clench around him at the thought - what is wrong with you?

“Oh, you like that? Dirty fucking girl. Such a slut for daddy, huh?” You clench tighter at that, and his thrusts speed up, pace irregular. “Yeah, you fuckin’ like that.”

His hand leaves your mouth and you cover it yourself, not wanting to anger him anymore.

“‘s okay, baby.” He murmurs, taking your hand from your mouth and leaning down to kiss you. As he does, his hand goes to your clit, and you moan loudly, muffled slightly by the kiss, as your back arches off the bed and you come so hard you see stars, setting off his own release and making him groan, biting your shoulder as he fills you up.

It's quiet for a moment, save for your shared panting, before he pulls out.

“Fuck, honey..” he murmurs, watching your shared fluids dribble out of your cunt, gathering them up on his fingers and pushing them back into your tight hole.

“Made such a mess, didn't we?” He says softly, brushing your hair away from your eyes as you giggle softly, nodding.

“That was so good.” You whisper, and he nods, gathering you up in your arms.

“Joel, you can't stay in here-” you mutter, confused.

“Just relax, honey. I'll leave in the mornin’. Just let me hold you for now.”

You're utterly perplexed, but you're definitely not complaining, swallowed up by his warmth and drifting off within a minute.

The next morning, you're opening presents, and you bite your lip when he reads his card from you. At the bottom, you'd added - come to my room afterwards for the second part of your gift - and when he comes upstairs afterwards, it's safe to say he doesn't leave for a good hour.

Dividers by @adornedwithlight <3

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Have a good Christmas everyone!! ❤️

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shuenkio · 2 days ago

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Wishing on You | 니키 — 엔.하.이.픈 🎄

• Paring: Ni-Ki X M!reader | Genre: Soft fluff.

Synopsis: Dating M/N as a joke, using the relationship to escape his own painful memories. However, karma strikes when Ni-ki unexpectedly falls deeply in love with M/N for real.

Cw: bad language, none.

Non proof read | English is not my 1st.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A☃️N: A Christmas gift for all lol, I cannot can't be in this holiday 😜 can't exactly say I'm back but it's 5050. Anyway advance happy Merry Christmas.

"I'm sorry about this m/n, look I'm sorry ok? You know I never apologize to someone but you. I know I was wrong in this for toying you, and I know you won't forgive for what I've done for... Can we pretend like this was never a joke ? Like we're for real together now?" Ni-ki expressed how guilty he was, he never said the word sorry before which made this situation even worse and somehow made you feel special? Or was it a lie again?

Snow continues falls softly, blanketing the world in quiet. Each flake drifts lazily, melting on warm skin of both, turning the air crisp and still.

The icy weather does help you to get from boiling hot at some point however, deep down in your ocean of thought, it feels like he meant what he was saying. The bad guy who got destroyed by many girls, the one who got cheated on, the one who got hurt the most in the end. Then why would he toy with you, when he knows so well about this feeling, being betrayed on?

That's not the case right now, for what you're thinking. Kinda toxic that you wanted to get back with him too but why not? He can change, you can change him don't you? The one that never says sorry or thank you typa guy but for you, it was a different scenario? Ni-ki is regretful for what he did, well his nose is kinda red right now wait is he tearing, gosh.

Stressing, Hands tucked into coat pockets, m/n exhaled, warm breath curling into the frosty air. You made up your mind, either staying with him or ending this relationship for real.

Tears streamed down his face, silent and unbroken, Ni-ki's chest still as if even grief refused to shatter the quiet. He looks down to the snow covered ground, avoids being looking at, while he is on his weakness.

Close the distance between you and him, as you lift up his chin.

"Are you sure you'll never do it again?" You asked. He drew a shaky breath, forcing himself to steady, his voice trembling but clear as he spoke through the tears, determined something.

"i swear to Santa, if I'd toy, cheated, playing with your feelings again on you, I'd let you shave my head bold" what?

"sigh shut up"

"can I...hug you?" M/n rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply as Ni-ki, still wiping away tears, hesitantly asked for a hug.

"fine I guess..," You said nonchalantly, the voice is flat, as you shrugged slightly, offering no more than a careless glance. Despite the dismissive tone, you didn’t pull away when Ni-ki stepped closer.

Ni-ki wrapped his arms around you, pulling them close, resting his chin on your shoulder despite the height difference. There was a warmth in the embrace, a sense of quiet comfort that filled the space between them.

Under the flake storming, You could feel the weight of Ni-ki sigh against your neck, the way his body seemed to melt, just for a moment, into the calm of being held. It was a strange mixture of vulnerability and safety, and though You'd remained still, that both of you couldn’t ignore the faint tug in their chest.

"I'll be good for you... Really"

"..."

"바보같이 사랑해..."

"Okay... Well um... Merry Christmas?"

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muniimyg · 2 hours ago

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♡ 01: baby, i'm a dog

series m.list // taglist

note: welcome to part 1 !!! this fic is def a diff vibe ,, kinda chill and jus sad LOL … tbh if i hate it i’ll jus edit it as a one shot cos #yolo #idc but also…. i fear this jk is a vibe

the cabin's front door slams shut behind jungkook.

his laughter spills into the cold air as he jogs to his car, tossing the keys to taehyung mid-stride.

the hoseok and nam joon had roped him into a last-minute supply run—apparently, they underestimated just how much beer and snacks a group this size could burn through in one night. the crunch of snow under his boots and the slap of wind against his face brought a sharp clarity, a brief reprieve from the weight he'd felt the entire drive up here.

he works nonstop all year… he only gets a few days of vacation. yet, this is how he spends his precious leisure days.

a part of him is still trying to figure out why he even came.

"think fast, shithead!" taehyung called, tossing the keys back.

jungkook catches them effortlessly, smirking as he spins them around his finger.

as he opens his mouth to make a comeback, the sound of tires crunching over ice makes his chest go tight. instantly, he recognizes that it’s yoongi’s girlfriend’s car—but something about the way it’s driven pulls him further into himself.

jungkook is a car guy.

he’s the car guy and knowing cars means knowing the people behind the wheel.

the way they park, the way they brake, even the rhythm of their turns.

and this car?

it parks too carefully, too smoothly.

it’s muscle memory that makes him stand straighter, his heart stumbling over itself. because he knows exactly whose hands are gripping the wheel before he even sees your face.

taking a few steps back, he watches as the suv rolls into the driveway, something heavy settling in his chest.

the sound of the car door opening snaps him out of his daze.

and it all suddenly feels like a fever dream.

with the snow falling slowly and the way his heart skips a beat—you step out and completely stop his world.

you’re bundled in a cream puffer jacket and your cheeks flushed from the cold…

and you smile at him.

like, really smile at him.

and jungkook thinks to himself;

fuck.

you’re still so pretty.

so fucking pretty.

then, his mind blanks.

he doesn’t know how to move, doesn’t even know how to breathe. all he can do is stare.

“jungkook!”

before he can even respond, you’re walking toward him, arms open.

he freezes when you hug him.

it’s not long—just enough to share a little warmth—but it’s enough to knock the air clean out of his lungs.

three years.

it’s been three years since he’s seen you, and now you’re here, wrapping him in a moment that feels too easy for all the time that’s passed.

is... is this easy for you?

because he can't breathe right now.

“i convinced her to come last minute,” yoongi’s girlfriend, mei, says. she’s practically bouncing with excitement. “the weather grounded her flight, and i told her it’d be way better to spend a few days with us than to sit around waiting.”

you pull back from jungkook and smile up at him like it’s nothing.

like he hasn’t been caught in the shockwave of your presence.

like you aren't the love of his life.

“figured it’d be fun,” you say lightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. you glance around and squeal at the sight of your old friendgroup. “plus, i missed you guys.”

the others swarm in, laughing and throwing their arms around you, saying how long it’s been. jungkook hangs back, struggling to keep up with the reality in front of him. this wasn’t how he thought this trip was going to go.

as jin and yoongi haul your bags toward the cabin, you turn back to jungkook. your shoulder bumps against his as you tilt your head.

“is it okay that i’m here?”

he blinks at you.

“why wouldn’t it be?”

your shrug and look around. “nam joon’s your friend. this is his family cabin… i’m just your—“

“it’s fine,” he interrupts you.

silence.

then, you break it with a question and your signature soft tone.

“did i surprise you?”

jungkook nods stiffly, words caught in his throat.

"good."

... is all you say before you’re gone, following the others into the cabin, leaving him standing in the cold.

it takes a second, but his feet move on their own, trailing after you without a second thought. like a dog, he thinks, tail wagging behind its owner.

his hands clench into fists at his sides as he walks, the cold biting at his skin through his jacket.

you're here.

you're actually here.

they have invited you over and over again to friendgroup trips and you've only attended a handful of times. take note that those specific times were the ones where jungkook had rsvp'd no.

so this...

this?

this is completely beyond him.

you... in the flesh feels like some cruel cosmic joke to him. the kind of joke where the punchline cuts deep and leaves a scar.

three years.

three fucking years of trying not to think about you, of convincing himself he’d moved on.

three years of pretending he didn’t still see you in every corner of his life. he told himself he'd be ready for this moment if it ever came—that he'd have the right words, the right attitude, anything but the mess of disbelief and guilt twisting in his chest right now.

but here you are, running into his arms like none of it matters. like the years apart haven’t clawed at him the way they clearly didn’t claw at you.

he knows he shouldn’t be surprised.

you always were good at carrying things with grace, even when he was busy breaking them—breaking you.

a part of him feels bitter. he wishes you had a mean bone in your body. perhaps, he'd feel better... but you don't and all he's can think about is how good you smell.

“what the fuck," jungkook mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face as he steps into the cabin.

the warmth inside doesn’t reach him.

not really.

his heart is still somewhere out there in the cold, stuck in that driveway where you looked at him like nothing’s changed.

like he’s still someone worth smiling at.

as you get settled, jungkook and taehyung excuse themselves again and leave for their little grocery run.

when they come back, an hour later—the plastic grocery bags cutting into his fingers as he kicks the snow off his boots.

laughter drifts from the kitchen, light and easy, mingling with the clatter of pots and pans. the scent of something savory hangs in the air, and for a moment, he lets it lull him, the warmth easing the tension in his shoulders.

“finally,” yoongi groans, swooping in to grab some bags from jungkook. “we thought you guys got lost or something.”

“tae couldn’t decide between doritos and cheetos,” jungkook mutters, rolling his eyes as he shrugs off his coat. “turns out we needed both.”

“damn right we did,” taehyung calls from behind him, slamming the door shut with his foot.

jungkook lets their banter fade into the background, his eyes instinctively drawn toward the kitchen.

you’re there.

standing near the counter, sleeves rolled up as you stir something in a pot. your hair’s pulled back, a few loose strands framing your face. you’re laughing at something yoongi’s girlfriend says, your hands moving gracefully as you gesture, completely at ease.

the view of you is so clear, yet so vivid in his memory.

it makes his heart ache.

it’s like you’ve always been here, laughing, stirring pots, and looking so effortlessly beautiful it makes his chest ache.

like he’s coming home to you again.

“earth to jungkook?” jimin snaps his fingers in front of his face, smirking when jungkook blinks, caught. “you good?”

“yeah.” the word comes out too sharp, and he clears his throat, shrugging past jimin. “just gonna change.”

he doesn’t wait for a response and heads upstairs. the weight in his chest grows heavier with every step, a knot tightening in his stomach. when he reaches his room and pushes the door open, he freezes.

his bags aren’t where he left them.

instead, a collection of white baggage are stacked neatly in the corner. irritation flares, but it’s quickly doused by confusion—and a sinking realization.

“jungkook?” your voice calls softly from behind him, and he turns to see you at the top of the stairs, slightly out of breath.

you’re holding onto the banister, your other hand fiddling with the hem of your sweater. the soft fabric brushes your fingers as you glance at him, your expression tentative.

“the girls—um—mei, bria, and the others—they thought it’d be better if we moved your stuff,” you say, stepping closer. your voice is calm, and measured, but there’s a nervous energy in the way your eyes dart toward his. “i told them it wasn’t necessary, but they figured it’d be easier if... well, you know.”

jungkook leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

“so you’re gonna take my room?”

“it was our room for three years.”

“it’s been three years.”

“that’s true,” you hesitate, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “they put your stuff in jimin’s room. but i was just coming up to say, i can totally switch and room with joon’s girlfriend and make joon and jimin room together. i mean, it’d be a good chance to bond—”

“take the room.” his voice cuts through your rambling, low and firm.

your eyes widen slightly.

“are you sure? i really don’t mind—”

“yeah,” he says, shrugging. “the only other option would be to share it with me… so…”

you pause, a laugh bubbling out before you can stop it.

“that’d be crazy, right?”

something flickers across his face, too quick for you to catch. then, he straightens, his expression calm but his words heavy.

“would it be though?”

the question hangs in the air, your laughter fading as his gaze lingers on you. his tone is light, almost teasing, but there’s something beneath it—something you can’t quite name.

you look away, brushing your hand over the doorframe as if needing something to ground you.

“thanks, jungkook,” you say softly, the words carrying a warmth that feels too intimate. “i appreciate it.”

but before you turn, your hand reaches out, ruffling his hair in that way you used to when you thought he was being ridiculous.

his breath catches, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink as your fingertips graze his scalp.

then you’re gone, your footsteps fading as you head back downstairs.

jungkook exhales, his head tipping back against the doorframe as he stares at the ceiling. “fuck,” he mutters under his breath, the weight in his chest now impossibly heavier.

by the time jungkook come down the stairs, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the space he follows behind you, catching the way the group immediately perks up. all eyes turning toward you both, and jin yells out, "look who finally decided to join the party!"

taehyung grins, his voice too cheerful for someone who clearly has something up his sleeve.

“you two are late to the conversation, so you’re being voluntold to go back to town and grab some oil. we forgot to buy oil.”

jungkook freezes mid-step, his brows furrowing.

“the fuck? i just got back. are you serious?”

you turn and see jungkook’s frustration bubbling up already as he turns to bicker with the guys, his voice rising in playful annoyance. “hyung, you couldn't just... check the damn list? are you fucking serious? i don’t want to go back—”

taehyung laughs, “we were too busy enjoying ourselves. you had fun with me! remember? we got both—”

“fuck that,” jungkook huffs. “i’m not going back—”

“you have to—”

“no, i don’t.”

“jungkook, you’re the youngest too—”

“why does that fucking matter?”

the group chuckles, but jungkook’s not laughing.

you watch jungkook’s face twist with irritation, the way his jaw tightens with every word that’s said. he’s always been like this—quick to snap when he feels cornered. it’s like he can’t stand being told what to do.

he can’t.

god, he really hates being pushed around.

you’ve always known that about him. yet, a part of you feels bad for him.

“no. fuck that.” his voice is sharp, a little louder than it needs to be. “i’m not going back—”

the others try to reason with him even more, but his deflection is clear.

it’s always the same with him, especially when he feels like he's being challenged. you can’t help but shake your head a little, a sigh almost escaping your lips as you glance at the group, waiting for the inevitable back-and-forth.

he’s the youngest, of course. always the youngest. always expected to just follow along, to do things because it’s “his turn” or whatever bullshit they’re using this time.

you feel your own resolve settle, the urge to take control bubbling up before you can stop it. without even thinking, you walk over to taehyung, reach over, and grab the the car keys from his hand.

you do it quickly, not even glancing at anyone else, just deciding in that moment that you’ve had enough of the back-and-forth.

“oil. anything else?” you ask, your tone light, almost too casual, as if this is no big deal.

you hear the group chuckle, but you're not listening to them.

you’re watching jungkook now, his surprise registering only for a second before the annoyance flickers back into his eyes.

he doesn’t have a choice now.

he hates this.

jungkook rolls his eyes, but it's too late—he knows it’s happening now. he snatches the keys back from your hand with a heavy sigh. he doesn’t look at you, but the slight dip in his shoulders gives him away.

he’s still annoyed, but it doesn’t matter.

not if it’s about you.

suddenly, he’s putting his boots on and slams the door. then, the sound of his car engine starting fills the silence. everyone turns to you in disbelief.

“huh," you tilt your head. "i guess he's driving.”

the car ride is silent, the engine purring smoothly beneath you.

jungkook’s car is new (to you, at least) and he drives like he’s trying to put as much distance between himself and the group as possible.

his knuckles are tight around the wheel, and every so often, his eyes flicker to you, then back to the road. you can feel the tension building up again, but neither of you says anything.

the store comes up quick, and you both slip inside. jungkook grabs the oil without a word, and as you stand by the aisle, you notice the carton of oat milk in his hand—your favourite brand too.

you blink.

“they didn’t ask for oat milk.”

he doesn’t look at you as he sets the carton into the basket, but there’s a quiet, almost hesitant shift in his posture.

“yeah. i know.”

you want to say something, anything, but you swallow the words.

it’s just oat milk.

back in the car, you both buckle up in silence, and jungkook starts the engine with a soft grumble. the snow outside is heavier now, falling in thick, swirling sheets, the road barely visible.

the car stalls.

jungkook curses under his breath, his hands working over the wheel like he’s already analyzing what’s wrong. you watch him, knowing he’s not going to admit it, but it’s obvious.

“looks like we’re stuck for a bit,” he mutters. “better wait for the snow to calm down.”

you lean back in your seat, the quiet pressing in. there’s nowhere to go but forward now, and it’s strange, this calm in the middle of nowhere with him beside you, neither of you saying much.

the snow pounds against the windshield. jungkook shifts in his seat, tapping his fingers against the wheel as he watches the storm.

as jungkook stares at the snow pounds against the windshield, you stare at him.

you wait for him to say something.

anything.

but jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes.

his gaze is fixed on the road, his hands tight on the steering wheel. you can feel the distance between you two—the years, the hurt, the things that never got said. the things you did say…

“so,” you start, your voice soft, the words almost hesitant. “how are you?”

jungkook scoffs.

“don’t.”

“don’t what?” you ask. “it’s been a while. i only really see what you’re up to via social media. you opened your own shop, right? i’m so proud of you. i know how long you’ve wanted to do that.”

jungkook nods.

“yeah…” his response is immediate, but detached. “yeah, i mean… it was a lot easier when i got the right clientelle. so yeah, still doing that. luxury car mechanic bullshit. it’s... all right. not much to update you about.” his tone is nonchalant, almost like he doesn’t care, but you know it’s a front. it’s always been easier for him to hide behind that mask of indifference.

“i’m sure there’s something—”

“i fix up cars people can’t even pronounce the names of. not a lot of excitement there. just... polishing up things people break, and making money for it.”

“okay,” you nod, your fingers tracing the edge of your seat. “jungkook, it’s me. don’t underplay this with me.”

he shrugs.

for the first time in three years; you feel it again.

you feel this… sense of anger? annoyance?

hurt.

jungkook is well known in the city.

he's the go-to mechanic for luxury cars—bentleys, ferraris, lambos—if you've got money and a car that needs fixing, you go to him… and while we’re here; let’s brag about it.

jungkook is not just any mechanic; he's the top of the game. he’s the most trusted in the industry, and somehow, he's built a reputation that makes even the richest clients feel like they’re getting something special.

most of them don't know it, but jungkook is lucky—unbelievably lucky.

he didn’t come from money, didn’t grow up with connections or a silver spoon in his mouth. hell, he's still the kind of guy who wears sweat pants and a hoodie to work… but he's got an uncanny knack for fixing cars, his hands working like magic around every engine and every screw. it's a skill that came naturally to him, no effort needed—he was born with it.

and that, somehow, has carried him through life.

the thing is, jungkook knows he's a loser.

a lovable one, sure, but a loser nonetheless.

he might be great with cars, but he's not the type to flaunt his success. his garage is both chaotic and high-end, a mix of organized chaos and state-of-the-art equipment, the kind of place that looks like it’s one bad day away from falling apart, but in reality, it's the most trusted name in the city.

he's rough around the edges, but that's part of his charm. he's got the grit to keep going when things get tough, but he stumbles through life in a way that makes everyone around him laugh—except when it comes to cars.

then, he's all business.

the fact that he's self-made, that he’s built everything from the ground up, doesn’t even fully sink in for him. he never asks for anything. the success just... happened, like it was meant to.

in the same sense, he’s a scumbag.

he’s gotten into trouble before, and he’s made his share of mistakes. but somehow, with the luck he’s got, he always lands on his feet. and that’s why, despite being a mess in every other part of his life, jungkook is the guy you call when your sports car breaks down in the middle of nowhere.

in fact, he’s the guy to be with in the middle of a snowy road.

yet, with all these thoughts… you figure not to push it any further.

the silence stretches again, but this time it’s not quite as awkward. it’s still heavy, though—thick with the things that were never said. and you can feel it, the weight of all that unsaid stuff, but something else creeps in too. a quiet yearning, a reminder of the closeness you once had.

“how’s work for you?”

you clear your throat and chirp up.

“it’s good. great, actually. dior signed me to be their permanent event planner. i got to work with ysl and chanel last year so that was cool… lots of travelling… i don’t know. it’s been… fun. i think i’ve done a lot since...”

“that’s good,” jungkook breathes. “i’m happy for you.”

“really?”

“really.”

you let out a relieved breath.

“you know, i always refer my clients to your shop. truth be told, i found out about your shop through them before you even posted on social media.”

he flicks a glance at you, but it’s fleeting.

“why?” he scoffs, but there’s no real anger behind it, just frustration. “you shouldn’t have…”

you wince slightly, but it’s not a judgment. you get it. you always have. the way he pushes people away, like he’s afraid of being too close to anyone, like caring might break him.

“we were in it together,” you reply, your voice quiet but warm. “life. our careers… everything. just because it didn’t work out between us doesn’t mean i was going to leave it as it was. i couldn’t help it. i thought of you whenever my clients complained about their cars. i thought of you whenever your favourite model drove past me. i thought of you, jungkook. how could i not? we spent three years together… so, don’t do that please. don’t act like the past three years haven’t been good to you… because as much as i could, i tried to send you some good. there was good.”

“okay,” he huffs out a breath, his shoulders tense. he’s quiet for a beat too long, and just when you think he might shut down, he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible. “i appreciate it. all of it.”

“you’re welcome,” you smile.

then, you turn and watch the snow falling heavier now, the world outside becoming more and more a blur.

“you know,” you say, your voice almost teasing, trying to ease the weight of the moment, “your mom calls me on my birthday every year.”

his eyes flick to you again, almost imperceptibly, but it’s there. a flash of something in his eyes. a crack in the cool mask he’s built up.

“sorry,” he apologizes. “i… shit, ___. you know, you’re her favourite.”

“don’t be,” you smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “she’s my favourite too.”

then, he’s quiet again, but this time, there’s a softening to his expression, the edge of defensiveness slipping away.

you let the silence settle again, the two of you wrapped in the quiet of the car and the storm outside. but this time, it feels different. not easy, not perfect. but it feels like maybe—just maybe—this is the first real conversation you’ve had in years.

and that’s enough for now.

the cabin feels smaller when you get back, and the weight of jungkook’s presence only makes it tighter. the group’s immediately apologizing, teasing him about the oil run, their words sharp but light.

“we totally forgot, man,” taehyung says, looking guilty. “guess you guys are our personal delivery service.”

jungkook doesn’t respond, his face already scrunching into an exaggerated grimace as he heads straight to the kitchen to help. you’re unsure if it’s from irritation or just sheer exhaustion.

maybe both, you think as you follow him.

but the moment passes quickly, and you’re both swept back into the warmth of the group’s energy.

it’s dinner time soon after, and the room is buzzing. the conversation is loud, comfortable, with everyone laughing and sharing stories. jungkook and you sit across from each other, the space between you both thick and quiet. your presence seems to be the only thing that pulls him from his usual nonchalance—every time you speak, even the smallest comment, he cracks a smile, almost like he can’t help it.

yoongi catches it first, raising an eyebrow at jungkook.

“what’s up with you, kid? you only smile when ___ talks. what? the rest of us aren’t funny enough for you?” his voice is teasing but his gaze lingers, as if looking for something more.

jungkook rolls his eyes, brushing it off with a half-hearted scoff.

mei, sitting next to yoongi, shakes her head. she nudges you and you laugh it off. then, you lift your face and meet jungkook’s eyes. he offers you a short-lived smile.

you take it.

the jokes keep coming, but the way jungkook’s eyes flick to you each time you speak doesn’t go unnoticed.

it’s subtle, the way his lips curve just a little, how his eyes soften just a fraction whenever you make a joke or offer your thoughts. but it’s enough. the others catch it, too, exchanging glances behind their drinks, a quiet realization settling between them.

after dinner, everyone migrates to the living room, pulling chairs and sofas closer to the fire. taehyung sets up the drinks, jin and hobi are already messing with the fire, adding logs with unnecessary dramatic flair, and namjoon is flipping through a deck of cards.

“we should play charades,” jimin suggests, his voice light as he pours more wine into his glass.

“charades? yeah, we could use some entertainment,” jin agrees, his gaze drifting between the group. “but i’m not going easy on you guys.”

you end up on the same team as jungkook.

when it’s your turn to act out a word, you both fall into an easy rhythm. your gestures are sharp and exaggerated, and jungkook picks up on your cues instantly, his movements smooth and fluid. there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you, the way your eyes meet for half a second before you both act out the next part of the clue.

honestly, it’s like no time has passed since you last did this, and everyone else watches with mild surprise, the chemistry between you two almost palpable.

nam joon and taehyung share an amused glance, their eyes widening slightly, while jin snorts quietly.

“okay, okay, we get it. you two are too good at this,” jimin says, shaking his head with a laugh.

“they’re like a team built for charades,” namjoon mutters, and yoongi, always perceptive, smirks.

“it’s like they can read each other’s minds,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you both. “almost makes me uncomfortable.”

you can feel the weight of their glances, the way they subtly watch every interaction, waiting for something to shift. and when the game finally wraps up, everyone is drunk, laughter louder and voices more relaxed.

conversation moves from silly jokes to more serious topics, the kind that happens when the alcohol hits just right. somehow, everyone feels like they’re safe enough to let their guard down.

hoseok mentions work—how it’s been a mess lately, how nothing seems to be going right, and the conversation shifts into the stress of adulthood, of managing expectations and responsibilities.

“sometimes it feels like i’m drowning in it,” hoseok admits, rubbing his temples. “i mean, we’re doing okay, but god, it’s like every time i take a breath, there’s another problem.”

“sounds about right,” taehyung agrees, sipping his drink. “adulting sucks.”

the conversation flows around you, but then someone cracks a joke, and you reply with your usual snark. jungkook chuckles, and it’s a real, honest laugh, something that sounds familiar, something that feels like the version of him you used to know.

bria, who’s been quiet for most of the night, turns her gaze to jungkook, her eyes flicking between him and you with a raised brow. it’s obvious she’s drunk, so jungkook mentally prepares for the worst.

“jungkook?”

“what do you want?” he sighs. “you’re drunk so choose your words carefully, bria. last time we talked while you were drunk like this, i made you cry for an hour.”

bria rolls her eyes at jungkook.

“guess it’s my turn then,” she inhales deeply. “my turn to make you cry.”

jungkook gulps, but he tries his best to mask his fear.

he knows exactly who she’s gonna target.

“yah, do you think you’re slick or something?” bria asks. “why do you always laugh at ___'s jokes but no one else’s? you look at her and practically salivate. are you a dog? do you like her or something?”

the group goes quiet.

it’s then everyone realizes that it’s bria’s first cabin trip. even yoongi, who’s usually too aloof for moments like this, pauses, his gaze sharp as it flicks between you and jungkook. there’s a tension, thick enough to make your chest tighten, and you feel the eyes of the group on you.

it’s like the breath has been knocked out of the room. bria’s words hang between you and jungkook, heavy and unwelcome.

for a second, no one says anything.

you can feel the heat in your cheeks, the way everything seems to slow down.

your mind races.

“we’re exes.”

bria’s voice cuts through the silence again, softer this time. “oh, shit… fuck, right. yeah. i remember now… i guess it never clicked because i’ve only known you for a few months…”

“yeah,” jimin pulls bria close. he gestures towards the direction of their room. she shakes her head, refusing his obvious cue. “babe, let’s get you to bed—”

“no, wait… just w-wait. you and ___? but you two... are literally perfect for each other. what happened?” bria blurts, her tone genuine and almost searching.

you catch the way jungkook’s body tenses up.

from across the group, you chase for his eyes. they meet for the first time all night and you swear—there’s a flicker of something there.

something soft and promising.

something almost like love, but a lot like loss.

as quickly as you see it, it fades away. so, you offer him a soft smile. then, shake your head slightly, the movement almost imperceptible. it’s a signal.

don’t answer.

but he doesn’t look away.

and then, as if the silence is unbearable, jungkook speaks, his voice low but steady, almost like it’s been waiting to come out for too long.

“i fucked up,” jungkook admits. “i fucked up like everyone said i would.”

#bts fic #bts angst #jungkook exboyfriend #jk exes to lovers #jk e2l #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook boyfriend #jungkook second chance #bts fanfic #bts jk

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winchesterwild78 · 2 days ago

Text

Broken pt 1

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader (wife)

Warnings: Angst, Infertility issues, Language

A/N: Idea given to me by @cheekygirl2309. This one is a little different than what I usually write. It has angst, lots of angst to start, and infertility issues. It's going to be a short series.

Minors DNI 18+

I stood at the sink in our shared bathroom waiting and staring at the test on the counter. Another month has come and gone, another month of trying to conceive. The timer went off and with shaky hands I looked at the test, negative. My heart broke.

Jensen and I had been trying for months to get pregnant and nothing we did was working. Frustration was beginning to take over and overshadow the possibility of being a parent.

Jensen sat on our bed, phone in hand and leg bouncing. I walked out of the bathroom and he looked up at me, “Well?” I shook my head no. He let out a frustrated sigh and ran his hands through his hair and down his face.

“Jens, I’m.” He lifted his hand and cut me off. I felt a pang of sadness fill my chest and a lump form in my throat.

“Just don’t, please. Don’t say how sorry you are. It’s not your fucking fault. Maybe we should just stop trying.” Tears pricked my eyes at the harshness of his words.

“You don’t mean that, Jensen. Please, we can keep trying, we can go to the doctor and see what’s going on. Please, don’t give up on this.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m leaving for Toronto in a few days.” I spun my head and looked at him, “What?! I thought you were home for a while.”

“Well I guess not. We were called back for reshoots.”

“Damnit, Jensen! This is why I can’t get pregnant. You’re never fucking home. Between filming and your convention schedule you’re not home long enough.”

“Y/N, don’t start! I have obligations to the people I work for and with, and to my fans. You knew what you signed up for when we got married.”

“I didn’t sign up to be alone all the time, and obligations!? What about your obligations to me, to us, our marriage? Does that mean so little to you?”

“Fuck! I’m not going to spend the next few days arguing with you.” Jensen growled and grabbed his suitcase.

I stood in disbelief. The tears that pricked my eyes were now falling, and my chest felt like it had a massive hole in it.

I stood watching him pack and load up his suitcase without saying a word. As he passed by me he looked at me briefly but then looked away. No words were spoken.

Jensen carried his suitcase downstairs while he was on the phone. He was booking a plane to leave tonight. An audible sob left my lips.

“Jensen, are you really leaving tonight?” Without looking up he said, “Yes.”

“Jens, please don’t do this. Please stay here. We need to figure this out.”

Jensen’s phone went off. He looked at it and stood up, grabbing his suitcase, “I have to go. Goodbye, Y/N.” I swallowed hard. I usually drive him to the airport.

Before I could respond he was out the door, no hug, no kiss goodbye. I let out a loud sob and collapsed to the floor. He left.

My world spiraled around me. The harsh words we spoke to each other replayed in my head. Did he really just walk out, did I lose him?

Jensen’s POV

I climbed in the Uber and headed towards the airport. My harsh words replayed in my head. The hurt on her face with another negative test and again when I left. The Uber driver was nice, making small talk, and I tried to be polite.

My world was crumbling and I plastered a smile on my face and ran away from the problem. I’m a fucking coward. We wanted a baby, and I can’t even give her that.

She’s right, I leave her alone too much. How can I expect to get her pregnant when I’m only home for a week at most.

Reader’s POV

I cried, harder than I had in awhile. It felt almost therapeutic. I stood up, locked the door and crawled into bed. I grabbed Jensen’s pillow. The faint smell of his shampoo and cologne lingered on the pillow.

I missed him so much it hurt. Was this argument the one that broke us? Will we be able to fix this and move forward?

I looked at my phone, hoping for a text, but I had nothing. He left. Left without hugging me or kissing me. He left early so he didn’t have to deal with this argument. He was done. Done with me, with trying for a baby, done with our marriage.

I decided to send him a text. I had to lay it out there for him so he knew exactly where I stood.

Me: I don’t know if you’ll read this, or if you even care, but I had to send this so you knew what I was feeling and where I stand. Jensen, I love you. I’ve always loved you and I always will. If you don’t want me, us anymore I get it. I just want to know. You left me tonight. No kiss, no hug. Just a cold shoulder and not so much as a goodbye. I deserve better than that. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten pregnant yet. I don’t know why I’m not, but I was willing to keep trying. I know every time the test comes back negative it hurts, but this hurts worse.

Jensen, we made a commitment to each other and I still believe in it. I’m okay with putting trying to have a baby on hold, but I’m not okay with putting us on hold. I hope you have a safe flight, and I truly hope you still believe in us enough to fight for us. I know I do. Please call me or message me back. I love you, Jens, today, tomorrow, forever.

I sat my phone down and curled in a ball. Sleep slowly washing over me.

Jensen’s POV

I sat in the back of the SUV taking me to the apartment I had rented for filming. Shit, I forgot to turn my phone back on.

As soon as I turned it on a message came through from Y/N. Arriving at the apartment I grabbed my bags and walked into my place.

Pulling out my phone I read the texts. Tears pricked my eyes. I let out a frustrated sigh, and ran my hands down my face.

I fucked up big time. This was one of the first tests in our marriage and I ran like a coward. No wonder she thinks I want out of our marriage.

I looked at the time and realized it was really late. She was probably asleep but I didn’t want to just text her. I took a deep breath and called her.

“Hello” she answered groggily.

“Hey, sweetheart. I got your text.”

“Jens, oh. I’m so glad you’re okay. Baby I’m so sorry. I know this isn’t easy on you. You were right, I did, do know what I signed up for with your schedule and your job. I let my frustration get the better of me.”

“No, I’m sorry, Y/N. I left you alone in this, and ran like a coward. You have every right to feel the way you do. Hell, I feel lonely too, and I’m surrounded by people. I can’t imagine how you feel. Baby I don’t want to stop trying for a baby. I love you so much and I still want us and a baby. I am so sorry I spoke to you the way I did and left you instead of working through this. Say the word and I’ll fly back home tonight. I don’t care about the shoot, you’re more important to me. Our marriage is more important than the shoot.”

“Jensen, I don’t want you to fly home. You have to stay and go to work. How about I fly to you in the next day or two? I’ll take some time off work and come to Toronto.”

“That would be amazing, sweetheart. I can book the ticket and let you know. Oh sweetheart, I am so sorry. I wish I could hold you right now.”

“Jens, I do too. I’m sorry too. Promise me we won’t do this again. If we get into an argument or have any disagreement we will talk it out. Stay and talk it out.”

“I swear, Y/N. I’ll never run off again. I love you too much to throw this away.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me Ackles.” He chuckled, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I yawned and so did he. “Jens, I hate to cut this short, but I’m really tired. Thank you for calling me baby. That means so much to me. I love you, baby.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll let you get some sleep. I love you, darlin’. Good night, Y/N.” “I love you too, Jens, good night.”

We hung up and I placed my phone on the bedside table. I smiled, pulled Jensen’s pillow to me and fell asleep. Feeling a bit better.

I fell asleep, my heart lighter than it was before, knowing we were both willing to fight to save our marriage.

My last thought before I fell asleep was, Now that Jensen and I have made the commitment to always keep communication open, what else could go wrong?

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.

Tags:

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75

@superrey @kamisobsessed

@obliviousap @ninii-winchester

@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny

@bobbdylan @star-yawnznn

@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98

@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen

@mandee7 @barnes70stark

@spnaquakindgdom

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader

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orleans-jester · 2 days ago

Text

GoGo had stayed hugging him for a while, until she was able to calm her mind somewhat. Until the memories and the smell of smoke had escaped her. Yes, her and Scout had been doing their risky streetraces, and going out and doing crazy things like joyrides and pushing what speeds were possible in different vehicles but this was the first time that there had been someone that she knew hurt from these things. It was like Dale flying through the air had nearly stopped her heart, brought her back to that place.

She was too emotionally drained to get all grossed out by Flotsam at this point. He might as well have just been picking his favorite color out of a pack of starbursts with the way that she was reacting. Eyeballs were just the new pink starbusts - the best kind.

“Interesting choice,” Go-Go said. “The only cells that survive from the time you’re born until you die are in the eyes. So he’s collecting whole lives.”

Back to the nerd. She couldn’t help it. It actually was interesting that the eyes were a focus. Don’t even get her started on what she would think of the psychology of Bastien if she knew about those eyes.

She took a half step back onto the grass, excluding herself from the scene of Jetsam leaving, and took the time to take another breath. She felt bad for Scout, Dale and Chip, having a family member that was actually good to them - so it seemed - and that they loved that would disappear in front of them like that. And also a small bit of gratefulness that she wasn’t in their place. Having a shitty family sucked but at least she didn’t have to waste any brain power missing them.

Family had never been cohesive in her mind so … actually, seeing some of the cracks in the Laveaus made her feel a bit more like she could relate to them. Was she a bit concerned too when the twins started to fight? Yeah. But also, knowing them, they’d calm down and make up. But seeing that there were still arguments, fights. It felt more real. Less like the fantasy that them being witches and werewolves and zombies and shapeshifters painted it all to be.

She only stepped towards Scout, because she hated seeing her friend upset. Especially by someone whose ass they couldn’t just kick, or who they couldn’t just X out, like that girl that she had been seeing. A father - that was different. And she understood, God, did she understand, she used to be in the same boat, until she realized that she was wasting time that she could spend on better pursuits rather than a fathers love.

When Dale gave her the choice, she looked towards Scout again, and then pulled her in for a hug too. “You go on ahead,” She told her friend, giving her a reassuring smile. “I think I’m going to tour the town a bit. Who knows when I’ll get another chance to look for scrap in a place like this.”

It seemed like a good excuse - it was a real reason, she would absolutely have a ball of a time going through the cars around here and look for parts that might be harder to get back in New Zealand. But she also wanted to give them a bit of space to do their family thing. Scout really seemed to need her parents right now. She wasn’t ready to sleep, still jittery from adrenaline, and didn’t feel like sitting in a room, trying to calm her heartrate.

“I don’t mind the company though,” She said towards Dale, smiling a little sheepishly and rubbing the back of her neck. If this were a normal abandoned town, she’d feel absolutely fine going through it alone. But given the zombies, and the apparent random people that are just walking around waiting to get killed, being alone seemed not to be the best idea.

Who knew the "selfish" family that showed up could fill such a void? They'd been called worse. But, in this case maybe not being selfless in every single instance ever put in front of them just for the sake of being selfless wasn't always as selfish as they seemed? It seemed they might be a family in hot debate once upon a time. They'd fled to New Zealand in hopes of getting out of the spotlight in some attempt to lead an ordinary life as far as ordinary goes for extraordinary people.

Scout noticed her friend seemed "off" her usual demeanor for such an adrenaline moment. Scout and GoGo had been doing the high-speed races illegally in NZ along with other risky behavior, but this was the first time she saw her completely wig out in this manner. She'd actually never seen her lose her cool until now that she was thinking about it. Sure, they were sassy and sarcastic atypical behavior for any friends of this family, but this was different. This was a full blowout. It was hard not to pay attention and notice even if they didn't know what was going on in their head.

Dale however was hardly looking for an apology. He was just reacting himself. GoGo was holding him tight back. He wasn't sure how she'd respond. He was ready to wrestle her to the ground and go full on forced hug WrestleMania style. No consent. Don't care. Until she screamed Uncle/Mercy or laughed. One or the other. But she hugged back. That was good. He squeezed and he hugged, and he wouldn't loosen until she did after he felt her return it. No way he was letting that one go.

He still had this pumped-up energy when she loosened though. He wasn't angry just still on edge and in aching pain. He was lucky his whole body wasn't broken. Parts of him were. He just didn't have the official x-ray type diagnosis yet. They weren't the types of fractures he wasn't able to grind his teeth, grin and bear it though. He was always like an animal that didn't like to show his pain even when it was hard not to.

He had an intensity and exhaustion in his face even after they let go.

To even look over at his father digging out the eyeballs on some rando after all his absence for so long and to see GoGo so nonchalant about it was oddly comforting and surreal all at once. It felt like long gone days and a dream all at once being relived.

Yes, GoGo had been through a lot with the family by now, seen and heard much out of the norm by way of the supernatural and magical world, but this was different... a bit. They were used to it, but they weren't so desensitized that they weren't aware murder, death, mutating a corpse, or using it in ways unbecoming or undignified to who used to inhabit it yada yada normal society stuff, it just did not fly under their radar no matter what they were used to. So, seeing this girl from New Zealand be so casual after such a short time of knowing them without drawing any lines that were too far to cross was something they all took notice of, but especially Dale.

Right then.

Scout was more worried about her friend's reaction and what it meant. Dale knew all too well people they hoped would be life-time friends didn't always make the cut, so he kept his walls up, much like Piper. Hell, Scout did it too in her own way. No one ever wanted to be hurt again. This however was a moment. An invaluable moment.

That's why knowing werewolves exist or a world of zombies exists was still different than this moment. Maybe they were in Feral where they wouldn't get in trouble for a murder of some random no one had any connection to, but they weren't stupid. This family had been through enough to realize GoGo could have easily freaked out that they'd killed an innocent someone and not for a natural reason like werewolfing out through no fault of their own, or vampire feed, a natural need. This was just oops. We killed you having fun and they weren't another thrill seeker on the road with them who they could pass it off as well they knew the risks like all of them knew the risks when they got in those cars at such speeds. Dale and Scout knew the risk when they decided to not stop Chip from driving. They wanted so badly, both, to give him his moment with his father too, or just a moment to be who he used to be. They didn't know the history or life of that someone and none of them seemed to care as long as it didn't affect them. Even GoGo. This mattered.

Then the treatment of corpse mattered. She tore it up and used it and before noticing what Jetsam was doing with it. She could have picked up anything, but she picked up that arm. Every bit of this mattered to Dale and Scout when it came to their walls. Chip was a little too in his own head to think much through, but it would all come together for him eventually. Even Koda noticed, but he also assumed if it was a friend of the family they were on the cool already.

Dale and Scout had seen the law of impermanence play through their lives and run its wickedly natural course, an accidental lesson taught by Flotsam that keeps their walls higher than Isengard's. So, maybe they weren't consciously thinking it through, but it was a moment the walls restructured as Dale stared at GoGo who was looking at his dead father holding gouged eyeballs so proudly.

"Uh, yeah it's kinda his thing." He said out of breath as reality started to swarm back in around them all.

Dale watched the eye be put into Chip's barely self-controlled hand. He watched his sister; Scout be slightly ignored of her pleas to take care of the eye for him. Maybe it was because Jet didn't hear her? Maybe it was because of the time? In the middle of all this they'd lost track of it. He noticed Jetsam was looking less tangible and more transparent. Dale wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer after he saw his sis shout.

"Oh Dad!"

She ran over to him trying to hug him goodbye. She couldn't quite get a grip on him. It could be easily seen that she was clawing at his back to try and grip him back to the earth, but it was to no avail.

"I love you, Dad."

But he was gone. Chip was left with the eyeball in his hand and still unable to move quite freely as a truly lucid Chip should. Koda continued to hold him up from under his shoulder.

That's when Scout just stood there.

Stood there.

Tears started to well up in her multi-colored eyes.

Dale instantly tried to make things better like a brother always does. "He would have said it if he had more time."

Chip's very shaky lips, not from nerves, but from attempts to push through the zombie veil that shadowed over him said, "Y-you c-c-can hav-vvve it." He held the eye up trying to offer his sister any comfort, once again, as brothers do.

Scout shook her head at the eyeball. "Nah. He gave it to you."

This welled up so much anger in Dale he had no idea where to place it. He wasn't sure whether to be mad at Jetsam, at the clock, at life in general, at his father's vices that led him to this, whatever makes a man tick, at all of it, but it came out at Chip.

"This is your fucking fault, you know?" He charged at his barely there twin. "If you wouldn't have fucking killed him, she wouldn't be crying right now."

"Woah! Woah! Hey!" Koda actually had to hold Chip up Dale had pushed so hard. It must have snapped some coherency back into Chip because he pushed back full in the chest.

Now GoGo was in the middle of what really was at the heart of the family. Right when she was managing her own triggered insides the rest of the family pushed to their own edges.

All Koda could think was how could Jet fuck this one up? It was so easy. He was here. All that kid ever wanted from him was to show up.

Scout saw her brothers getting into their same old same old fight and she didn't want it to happen. It got her motor running and she jumped in between them.

"No! No. Stop. Just stop it. I'm fine. Don't drudge it up. Everything's fine."

Dale pushed himself back up from being knocked down by Chip's shove. Dale was a person who was fed up with feelings and frankly not very good with them.

She looked down more than once at Thomas's texts. "Actually... yeah. Everything is fine. I mean it."

She rolled up Chip's hand to make sure he wasn't going to lose that eyeball. "Just keep it safe in case he ever comes back. He'll come back for you."

Then she turned and gave a Dale a Scouty-hug as Scout often did being the petite little clinger of the family. She whispered in Dale's ear, "He came back. That's enough."

Dale hugged her tight, but seeing tears in sister's eyes wasn't on his Bingo card for any day ever, so he wasn't so sure it was enough until he heard her next words.

"I just want to go back with Mom and Dad."

Damn. It was the whole reason Dale came to NZ from the US. It was to help his sister adjust when he found out maybe she wasn't adjusting as well as she might have. So, from a brother perspective to see Scout want to run back home to her mom and dad, current and real, no hesitation, he had to smile finally. It came out of her mouth so naturally and for Dale felt like it was for the best.

"Yeah okay. I think they're staying at The Inn tonight." Dale would say as if every person in their shared sight didn't already know.

Then there was Koda an actual resident of Feral and was just catching up to what the other family was so intense on because his brain was more on keeping Chip balanced through most of this or worried about the Laveau kids as they mattered to his favorite people. "Oh, yeah, don't worry about this body. It'll blend in with the rest. No one will notice here. Let's put it this way, there's going to be no manhunt or FBI search here. He doesn't look familiar so I doubt they're anyone important to Delta. Honestly, if it's not Bastien or Dr. Frankenstein I doubt she'd pull much of a fuss over anyone else either."

Then he looked at each of them as if the whole scuffle didn't just happen because that's how things went sometimes. High emotions and then just move right along, that was hardly abnormal here. He was accostumed. "I can drive you guys up to The Inn. Drop off anyone who's staying and then I'm heading back up to the ball. I should get back to Elsa. But great run guys. Kick ass. Totally kick ass."

He wanted to offer to drive after the Chip fiasco though. He also liked to leave shit on the positive. Koda's giggling got Dale chuckling. "You should have seen how far you flew."

"I fucking bet, bruh. I hit hard. Road rash for days. I gotta walk this one off for a fucking ass month, fucker." He laughed. Dale took up the offer too.

"Sounds good to me." He trusted Koda to get his sister where she wanted to be. He figured if Koda was going back to the party to see Elsa he could also drive Chip back to his family at the party too.

That left Dale and GoGo.

He looked at GoGo and sighed. "Looks like we have a few choices. We hitch a ride with them and go to The Inn tonight. We could be like roomies again-" he gave her a little nudge as a playful reminder of the time they once had to bunk together, "-go back to the ball to get that bus out, or we go rogue and tour Feral? All I know is any choice that includes me in it tonight also includes a big bottle of I don't care what. But I'm finding it. Be forewarned."

A part of Scout looked tempted to be a part of that but she also had this pull that just wanted to see her parents first that was even stronger. She went for the car ready to be driven to Thomas and Valerie.

She texted Thomas.

Scout: I'm coming to you

It wasn't like her parents couldn't see, but it was best to warn of intentions in case they weren't focused on their magic sight. As much as they could all tune in, it went just as much to say they all had their own style of tuning each other out.

#GoGoxDale #GoGoxScout #GoGoxChip #GoGoxKoda #GoGoxJetsam

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candyswirls · 20 hours ago

Note

This is actually a sort of two part ask, but if you dont do those its fine. Clonegrim reuniting with Lion and Gulliman, and then Clonegrim meeting the Sons of the Phoenix for some nice bondng time (Sons of Dorn my ass, Cawl.)

I actually have story on this in the works :3 it’s just not ready yet

BUT ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE

His hair was a mess, grime and dried viscera covered him, he wore a a tattered mess of random imperial rags and a Necron style tunic.

His eyes had dark bags under them and they looked tired. It there was a look saying “I can fight and will if I must.”

Guilliman had prepared various speeches and replies to say when he saw Fulgrim. But this version? He looked younger. Had it not been for the determination in him, he would have called it pathetic

Fulgrim tried to stand tall, balancing on the spear he had.

“Roboute Guilliman,” he spoke, trying not to let his voice falter. “I am a clone of your brother, Fulgrim. I have most of his memories… before corruption. I do not know why I was made. But I am not corrupted by chaos or the warp. I will be… better than the first. He… disgusts me. I hate him. I hate what he’s become… and I hate what he stands for. I am against him. I am still loyal to the imperium and Father. I have escaped from Necron clutches and fought tooth and nail to… get here. I am still… a Primarch. I can fight… I can be useful… I am on your side… and I am…”

The clone collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily, tears pricked his eyes.

“You are exhausted,” Was the only thing Guilliman could say.

The clone looked up at him with disdain and snapped, “Of course I am! I… golden throne… I just crossed half… the galaxy! Everyone trying.. to kill me! Wouldn’t listen! I… please let it be over… Roboute… brother… please… I’m good. I swear I am. I won’t betray you. Not like him… I want to do right… I want to see father again… I just…”

There were so many things he wanted to say. To yell at him… but this wasn’t the original. This was a clone. He even looked young.

Guilliman knelt and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “I do not fully trust you. I can’t. But you can rest now. You’re in my custody now.”

Fulgrim let out a sigh of relief as he collapsed forward, caught in his brother’s arms.

Their reunion was brief. Guilliman led the Lion down towards the stratagium deck.

“A clone?” He questioned. “And you trust this?”

Guilliman nodded, “We’ve been able to bond. He acts like a teenager with his age, but he’s saved my life. He is loyal. He is more like Fulgrim than the original. He will be pleased to see you.”

The door opened as they walked in.

“Are you sure?” Lion asked.

Before Guilliman could answer a voice called out, “Lion!”

Lion froze as a slightly shorter version of the third Primarch practically leapt into his arms.

He was stunned for a moment before speaking, “Fulgrim? Fulgrim!”

Excitement overwhelmed his suspicions. He hugged his brother and lifted him into the air.

“You look younger,” he laughed.

Fulgrim smiled back, “And you brother look older.”

Guilliman chuckled, “What a relief this is. I have two of my brothers back.”

All three embraced.

“I will warn you,” Calgar said. “They were most upset when they learned of who their geneseed really belonged to. Some are still in denial and insist they are sons of Dorn. Granted this was before you came back.”

Guilliman placed a hand on Fulgrim’s shoulder, “They will love you.”

The clone sighed, “I certainly hope so.”

As they exited the Thunderhawk rows of Purple, white, and Gold armor stood in neat succession. Those without helmets had pale blonde, white, or silver hair. Eyes were down shade of purple or a close blue.

Fiery imperial defiance danced in their eyes.

Fulgrim stepped forward and scanned over them.

He smiled, “You are all a sight for sore eyes. Many of you already remind me of the loyal sons of the imperium during the heresy. I am not Dorn, nor am I the original Fulgrim. But I swear unto you that I aim to rectify the originals mistakes. To be better. Now please, show me your ways and customs of your chapter. I am not here to destroy it or make you a carbon copy of the third legion. You are already better.”

Shocked expressions crossed the sons of the Phoenix’s. Yet slowly, they approached their Primarch out of curiosity and the longing for their father.

He slowly rested his hands on the shoulders of his sons as they introduced themselves.

Guilliman sighed with relief.

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enbyfvcker · 1 day ago

Text

"Come back home."

𝙒𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣 (𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩!𝙬𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2k

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: a part two continuation from this from @psychohoneywhiskey because it rented a whole fucking condo in my head.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: Hurt/comfort, angst, fighting, fluff, kissing, happy ending, Wade needs a hug, Logan needs a hug.

Wade only got home when the sun was already rising. His suit was all torn up, and some wounds still healed from the fight he just had with some stubborn criminals.

He expected to see Logan sleeping on the couch, but he didn't.

Well, maybe he decided to sleep in his bed?

He walks to his bedroom with expectation but also finds it empty.

Actually, not entirely empty.

In his bed layed all the clothes Wade bought Logan folded. All the little thoughtful gifts he gave him. Everything that Wade got him to say through actions that he's wanted.

Looks like the message didn't land.

His heart tightens, tears welling in his eyes as he realizes that Logan left him.

Left after being willing to sacrifice himself for Wade. Left after making this crack house he lived in into a home. Left after letting Wade convince him to stay sober after decades. Left after stealing his way into Wade's heart, his life, his family.

And just like that, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴. Without nothing with him but his suit.

Honestly, Wade doesn't think he should be surprised for this. He knew it was going to happen. He knew Logan was just waiting for an opportunity to get rid of him. Who would ever put up with him? God, if he could escape from himself sometimes, he would. He tried many times, too.

So could he even blame him, really?

In that moment, all the words Logan spat at him in that Honda Odyssey at the middle of a god forsaken void came back into his mind. They have been constantly in the past weeks.

He did feel like a ridiculous sad joke. He wanted nothing more than to be able to die alone because at least it meant he would just 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺. That his attempts wouldn't just be self-harm anymore and that when he tried blowing himself up, he wouldn't just regenerate back.

He couldn't keep his job. Couldn't keep Vanessa. Couldn't keep Logan. If it weren't for Logan, he wouldn't be able to keep his fucking universe.

He'd never be an anchor being. He'd never make a difference or matter, so why would anyone stay?

He sobbed as he held one of Logan's shirts, burying his face into it and desperately trying to smell any remaining scent of him.

Mary Puppins walks in, her tongue out as she turns her head to the side, looking up at Wade with sad eyes.

"What's all that damn noise? Did you stub your toe again?" Al walks in wearing a sleeping robe and her sunglasses, apparently having awakened from Wade's ugly crying.

"Hey, Al..." Wade just sniffles, his voice broken as he just chooses to ignore her question.

"What happened?"

"Logan left..."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Guess I'm that insufferable that he couldn't stand spending another minute with me."

"He spent whole months with you, Wade."

"Sure, but did he even have a choice? I basically kidnapped him and threw him in a fucking new universe. I'm like an old creepy guy in a van. He was just waiting for a chance to run off. And he did."

"Come here, let's get you some tea." Al gestures for Wade to follow her to the kitchen, and he does, taking the shirt in his hands with him.

"Actually, I could use some cocaine right now. And you could use the cure for blindness to see how heartbroken I am for tea." He remarks, following behind her, dogpool following Wade. "Try not to break any cups this time."

Al puts sets a kettle in the stove and turns it on as Wade sits on a chair, all droopy and his eyes red.

"Did he take anything with him? Any money? Clothes? How do you know he won't just come back?"

"No, nothing. He must be wandering the streets like a lost puppy right now. And I just know."

"I think you boys are just too stupid to communicate properly. If you talked about this shit-"

"Oh, he talked plenty, believe me. He ran his mouth about how much of a joke I am."

"Oh, cut the self-loathing crap. That was before then. You two have been acting like an old married gay couple for the last months, don't give me that. You don't see the way he looks at you."

"Oh, and you do?!"

"I don't have to see it to know that guy would throw himself in the fire for you. If he ran off, then it's probably because the idiot read your sad little kitten act like a sign he's not welcomed."

"What-"

"Shut up. Now, if you don't grow a pair of balls for once and try to find him, I sweat to god-"

"I wouldn't even know where to look. And I doubt it he'd even want me to."

"So you better start right away. Go."

"What about my tea-"

"Go."

...

The last few days were rough. And that's saying something, considering all Logan went through in his universe.

He didn't have a place to stay anymore, so he just wandered around and got from bar to bar. He didn't have any cash on him, so he would flash his claws out to the barman as a threat when he was asked about his bill.

He felt like a goddamn monster, so why not act like it. He's not proud of it, but it's been months he didn't have a drink, and all he wanted was to drown the overwhelming feelings eating at him.

He got banned from multiple bars, always hopping to the next one. Getting drunk, getting in some fights, wandering around...

He felt like he was back in his universe. He felt so fucking stupid to think maybe he could change. That maybe here he could turn the page, start a new life with Wade.

Turns out the place it's not the problem, he's the fucking problem. He's a disease that destroys everything he touches, and he should know better than to try and have any connection with anyone.

He failed everyone. He failed the X-men by not being there. He failed Charles by going into a murderous spree. He failed Laura by not being the right guy. He failed Wade by being the complete jerk he is.

He wasn't sure how many days it had been since he left. He's smelling bad, and his hair is mess, but all he cares right now is finishing one more bottle. Then, one more, and one more, and...

He feels something - someone - poking him. Logan thinks it may be the barman or the manager, so he pulls his claws out. "Look, bub, I-"

"Heya, Peanut. Gosh, I'm getting deja-vu. Ain't ya?" Logan's eyes focus to see Wade standing next to him wearing his suit and mask, and his heart races quickly. "You're a hard one to find, honey badger. And I'm a mercenary, so-"

"The fuck are you doing here?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Save it, bub. I gave you an easy way out. You should have taken it."

"Come on, let's just talk-"

"Not in the fucking mood." Logan grumbles, suddenly feeling his chest too tight and like the walls were closing on him. He stumbles while getting off the chair and heading outside with heavy steps, hearing an angry voice behind the counter as he leaves without paying.

He walks out of the bar, rushing somewhere through the empty street, nightly darkness everywhere. Where? Where the fuck was he rushing to?

He hears a bell noise and other footsteps behind him.

"Fine! I get it, alright?! I'm the worst damn piece of crap that you could possibly be stuck with! You were right, ok? I'm everything you said I am. I'd run off, too." Wade shouts, his broken voice making Logan halt in his steps. "But at least let me return the favor of you saving my universe. Let me try and find you somewhere where you don't have to deal with me-"

"It was never about that." Logan grunts, his heart aching like it was about to break.

How could Wade possibly think it was about that?

"What?"

"I'm poison, bub." Logan sighs, finally turning around. "I destroy everything I touch. I hurt everyone around me, I hurt you. I don't deserve you taking me in. I don't deserve your affection or your family. I shouldn't have thought that there was more to my life than being the miserable monster I am and living with the consequences of my own actions. You got the worst you could possibly have, Wade. I'm just doing you the favor of retracting myself before I fuck everything up beyonde repair." Logan could feel his throat tight like a knot as he fought back stubborn tears.

Wade was stunned, silent for a few seconds before he took off his mask and gave Logan the most puppy dog eyes he ever saw, his eyes glossy with tears matching his own.

"You're an fucking idiot." Wade simply stated, a sad smile in his lips. "You're not a monster. And you're far from the worst I could have. I owe my whole world to you. I know you think I'm a joke, but I couldn't ask for a better-"

"I don't think you're a joke." He interrupted.

"But... in the Honda Odyssey, back at the void..." Wade replies, hearing a chuckle that held nothing but sadness.

Fuck. It never came to Logan's mind that what he said that day actually stuck to Wade. He is an idiot. Those words felt so distant, so different from what he felt now for the merc. After all those months they lived together, getting all domestic and shit. Wade crawled into his heart that had felt dead for years and got a space there.

"That was before, bub. I didn't even really know you, of course now I don't think that shit I said."

"But you did... Back then." Wade looks down, his voice low.

"I'm sorry..." Logan says, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. "You didn't deserve that. I was a jerk. I still am, but... You make me want to be better, bub. It's stupid, but... You kidnapping me was probably the best thing that ever happened to me in years, and I was just... so scared I fucked it up too, like everything else."

Wade chuckles, and his eyes brighten as he looks at Logan, his heart feels lighter at hearing those words.

"You didn't." Wade gets closer, his hand resting at Logan's shoulder. "You're wanted. Loved."

The care and gentleness in Wade's touch melts Logan, he leans closer too.

"Come back home."

Those words alone broke him.

For so long, he didn't have a home. How could he have ever taken this one for granted?

"Alright, bub."

It was like clockwork when their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss, them holding each other closely as if they both feared the other would disappear into thin air any second. It felt so natural. Their hearts were calm and frantic at the same time.

Suddenly, there were fireworks sounds and colorful lights surrounding them, and they could hear people chanting happily in the background.

𝘖𝘩.

So it was New Year's already.

They kept their lips together for a few seconds as fireworks popped and formed colorful patterns in the sky. When they pulled away, their eyes were filled with longing and pure affection.

"You're stinky." Wade comments with a smile even though he keeps Logan close. Logan chuckles.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Come on. Let's get you home and make you a nice warm bath, peanut. Blind Al and Mary Puppins are missing you." Wade says while putting his arms around Logan's waist as he guides him their way home.

"Just them?"

"No." Wade replies. "Not just them."

#deadpool and wolverine #deadclaws #poolverine #wade x logan #wade wilson #logan howlett #fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff #x men #marvel #deadpool 3 #deadpool x wolverine

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ray935sworld · 22 hours ago

Text

Visiting an old friend

Rosquez, Vale & Sic

25.12 Winter writing

Content information: the following writing includes Vale talking to Sic at his grave (no counter interaction). If this is something you're not comfortable with or that might triggers you, do not read.

I know some people or more hesitant when it comes to these topic. I don't mean any disrespect. I wrote this as part of a coping mechanism.

"Hey buddy, long time no seen" Vale said as he sat down opposite his old friend. "And I am completely aware that this is all my fault. So I apologize"

He smiled and felt the warmth he got in return. The other wasn't angry. He never was. He was just happy he was here now.

"You know, I... Funny story. I actually still thought our little meetings were a secret from Marc. But my dear husband told me to tell you that he says hi"

He remembered just a little bit earlier. "Give me a little bit time" he had whispered at Marc's ear when he kissed him awake. It was the early hours in the morning. 5.30 am. But he couldn't keep sleeping and he didn't want to miss Christmas breakfast with their little ones.

"I promise you I'm back in 2 hours" he kissed him again and saw his husband's calm smile as he nodded. "I know." he whispered as he burried his head back in the cushion. Soon enough their little whirlwinds would wake up and the peace was on the past.

He was just about to leave, already changed and the car keys in the pocket when Marc added "Tell him I said hi, will you? Tell him we miss him."

He felt a sadness pool in his stomach. All this time, every time he had made up a dumb excuse why he had to leave for a few hours weren’t needed. Of course he knew. And he had been respectful about it and didn't ask.

He smiled at him. It had been the perfect response. "I will"

And now he sat opposite him again.

"So... Hi from Marc. They miss you" he said and leaned back. "I miss you too..." he started to feel sad but right now he dint wasn't to be sad.

He quickly changed the subject. "Especially cause you'd have a field day with the way I stress out over the races at the moment" he chuckled.

"Seriously. My dear, sweet husband - Don't get me wrong. I am overjoyed that he's doing better and he's feeling happy on the bikes again. Finally he got that spark back, you know what I mean - and oh, we fuck like rabbits again. The boys already judge me for asking them to babysit that often.

He remembered Luca's and Pecco's looks after asking if they would like some uncles - nieces bonding time after Marc won his first race in years.

"But he's back to riding like - well almost like he used to. I can't imagine he'll be more careful next year. For the record I am not complaining! I am 100% supporting him. It's just - he'll be on a factory Ducati so I feel like I'm going to be gray a lot sooner than I thought"

He was almost as happy as he was concerned about him on a Ducati. But he could finally fight a title and he wouldn't be the one stopping him.

"I just feel sorry for Pecco. Bet he's going to complain to me the whole year. 10€!" He knew the other would accept that bet. He grinned.

"But at least I have an argument against Marc now. Okay, to his credit, he's more... I wouldn't say more careful on track but he's less stupid. Yes, that's it. Our little princess really keep him grounded. You should see him. He comes home and is immediately hugging and cuddling them"

He grinned, remembering how his little girls had tried to stay awake until their papa returned. Just when he had heard the car pull up, he had softly woken them up.

He had let them go first and just after seconds, the bags abandoned in the car, Marc had both his arms full with their little girls. He had kissed and hugged them and kissed them some more.

Vale ended up talking a lot about his little family and their adventures since his last visit. Then he went on about his other children.

"Ah and Franky - you wouldn't believe it. He finally got his shit together and asked Andrea out. Took him only 13 years or so of pinning. I bet that's a new record" he laughed.

"And now Marc is working on getting Cele and Bez together. I promise you, he should have been a dating coach."

He let time pass. The conversation was flowing. He talked about everything he could think off until there was nothing left. He didn't had anything else sitting on his soul.

That might be the worst and best moment of the whole visit. He knew there was nothing left to say. He didn't feel guilty about leaving. On the contrary, he felt lighter, more free. He was happy to see his family and spent Christmas together.

"I guess, it's time" he said, standing up. "Take care, will you? Be kind. Promise me, you're not causing too much of a chaos, amiche. Maybe a little. A little is needed but don't overdue it."

He laughed about his own words. "Do you hear that? I'm really getting old. But anyway..."

He leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead. But his lips didn't met skin. He didn't even met the thick curls they used to touch. He felt the cold stone against his lips.

"I miss you, my friend. Really. Terribly. But I'll take my time to meet you again properly. But when I do meet you again and you give me a big hug, I'll have thousand of stories to tell you."

Looking at the stone infront of him for one last time. He knew he would be here again in a week to whish him a happy new year.

"And sent Nicky my greeting too, alright?" he said. "Merry christmas Marco "

He smiled at the stone, imagining it wasn't just his name and the letters and numbers that used to hunt him in his sleep but the man himself standing infront of him before he drove him for Christmas.

Marco Simoncelli

20.01.1987 - 23.10.2011

#motogp #marc marquez #valentino rossi #rosquez #motogp rpf #winter writing #ray's writing #marco simoncelli

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yall-batman-fanfic · 3 days ago

Text

The Crossroads | Damian Wayne/Robin & Batmom

Synopsis: Inspired by Batman & Robin #16, and I really want this possible ending for Damian Wayne in the Continuity.

It was the sound of the soft and barely heard knock on his door that pulled Damian from his reverie. Getting up from his bed, he opened the door, knowing it was the youngest member of their family, and he was right. A smile crept on his face as he saw two-year-old Valerie standing there with her infectious smile.

“Dami!” She held her hands out to him.

“Hi, Val,” He picked her up and let her play with his face.

But Valerie wasn’t the only one at the other side of the door. Damian saw Vivian leaning against the wall across his bedroom with her arms crossed over her chest and a smile on her face. With the way she was looking at him, he knew she wanted to talk to him. He had a feeling it was because she got a call from his school or maybe his father already told her about their last argument.

“Come in,” Damian told her. “And you don’t have to use Val as a conversation starter too. I’d gladly open the door for you, as long as Father isn’t with you.”

Vivian sighed and followed her youngest son inside. Closing the door after her, she removed her shoes to sit on his bed, cross legged, and had Valerie crawl towards her.

“What did Father tell you now?” Damian asked.

“A lot, but we can get to that later,” Vivian had Valerie standing and helped her walk to Damian. “I’ve been getting calls from your teachers at school, and the Headmaster too.”

Damian did not look fazed by it. So, he was right about it.

Vivian continued. “They said you’ve been skipping school.”

“Let me explain,” Damian started.

Vivian reached out to hold his hand, calming him down. “And then your father told me that you and him had a spat the other night and since then you both haven’t been talking. He said you were skipping patrols.”

Damian frowned. “He didn’t tell you why I wanted to skip one night of patrol?”

“He said you forged his signature so you can volunteer at the hospital,” Vivian broke any idea in his mind that Bruce was giving half-truths. “I know that you and him didn’t really talk about it, but this time. I just want to understand – I need to know, Damian. What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Damian sighed. He pulled Valerie to him to sit on his lap and play with his hands as he thought about what to say. “I’ve been reading Thomas Wayne’s journals. He writes about sacred heart in there, and I went there. To check on Emma. The girl who was hurt. Dr. Bashar asked if I wanted to volunteer, and I… like you said, I forged Father’s signature on a form.”

Vivian adjusted herself to sit beside Damian and they both leaned back on the pillows, and had Valerie settle between them. But she still had an arm around Damian to keep him close to her.

“They scheduled me for that night I told Father that I’d be skipping patrol. It was by mistake. I was not planning to go, but… when he found out, I thought… instead of Arkham I could go there instead. He exaggerated – as usual – thinking that skipping one night of patrol would mean I was skipping all the same… or that I was quitting — but I’m not quitting… I don’t think.”

Vivian had Valerie move to her other side so she was beside Damian, the girl noticed and got on her feet to climb on her mother, but Damian saw her and took the toddler so she could sit on his lap again.

“Has the thought of quitting cross your mind?” Vivian asked.

He was silent for a time. “When Father was my age, he walked across the Earth to find himself, and you said that when you were my age, you gone through this stage where you had to find yourself. That’s where the occult thing started right?”

“Actually,” Vivian took a breath. “The occult thing was more of me grieving for my mother. She was a huge part of my life and when she died, she left a huge hole in me. It was like all this time, I had this warmth hugging me, keeping me safe, and then when she was gone, so did that warmth and I was left in a cold place. Alone, scared, vulnerable. I did all of that to find her, to make sense of this pain I was feeling. To numb myself.”

“I see.” Damian held her hand and rest his temple on her shoulder. Is that what it would feel like when she’s gone too? Damian thought. Will he feel empty when she finally passes? He wouldn’t admit it but Vivian has brought a warmth in his life, one that he never got from his own Mother or his Father – even when Bruce is trying to be an okay father.

“But I can say that my decision to go to Gotham University was my version to walk across the earth. Like a cheap version… one that needed a scholarship, a loan, and part-time jobs.” She laughed but Damian didn’t. It only pissed him off how his father would overlook the privilege he had growing up — to run away to travel and find himself, while people like Vivian (those not born in riches) had to make do with what they have and what opportunities present themselves.

Vivian continued, “My time in Gotham University gave me clarity. It was one of the times I was at my lowest point and the time I struggled to get back on my feet and get my life back together. It was also then I realized I love teaching… your father doesn’t know this but I also volunteered in some charities to teach kids how to read while I was studying. Not exactly the Wayne Foundation, but some other charities who needed an extra hand.”

“And that’s how you found your calling?” Damian asked.

“I guess. Sweetheart, I know it’s hard to figure out who you are, with you also have to be Robin, and then at this stage of your life… this is the time where you are supposed to find out who you want to be or who you’re meant to be. I told Dick that it’s okay to try something new and make a lot of mistakes… and I know that you never want to make mistakes, but it’s okay.

“And people your age are going around trying things, quitting on some, and trying another so they know what it was they want to do.”

Damian scoffed. “Like Father would ever let Robin do that.”

Vivian frowned. “I know… it’s either you’re in or you’re out in this business.”

“I want to keep helping people,” Damian stated, determined with that. “But I’m just not sure if I want to keep helping them this way. Having to wear a mask, patrols, the fighting… I know it’s crazy because I was created to be the ultimate weapon – created by Talia al Ghul with her and Batman’s DNA, raised and train by the League of Assassins and Ras al Ghul, trained by Batman to be Robin. I’m a weapon, my purpose is to keep fighting.”

“Is that so?” Vivian smiled. “You once said to Jon that he has no choice in the matter when the time comes he needs to be Superman, and the same goes for you when it’s time for Batman to pass the cowl… but that was a long time ago.”

Damian frowned at the memory. How he wanted the cowl for so long and now… he wasn’t sure about it.

Does he still want to be Batman?

“Damian,” Vivian sat up and had him follow her so they could talk face to face. She had him look at her and she said, “You are now at the crossroads of your life, and right now what I can see is you’re battling in the inside between the clear path that the people around you have forged for you to follow and the path that is unknown, filled with uncertainty, bumps, and an adventure you’d never know until you try.

“I won’t lie, this is going to be a hard choice for you to choose, and sometimes you’ll go back to the start and decide to take the other path, or the other, or the other. But know this, son, I will be here to help, to guide you, and support you,” she wiped the tears falling from his eyes. “And I will be there with you, at your side hold your hand until you see this through.

“There are no right or wrong answers to this, Damian. And I promise no one will ever be disappointed in whatever path you take. Okay? I am so proud of you, my boy. And though we started a little rough, I would go through all that again if it means having you here with me and you calling me ‘Mom’.”

Unable to hide his tears any more, Damian hugged Vivian and hid his face on her shoulder. “Thank you, Mom,” he sobbed.

“You are now at the crossroads, my boy. It’s going to be a hard journey, but I’ll be there for you. It would mean questioning a lot of things — there will be doubt, but always remember your family is here for you. Okay?” Vivian kissed the top of his head.

Damian nodded and kept holding his mother tight.

Valerie, who could see her brother was upset, got up and patted his cheek. “Dami,” she whimpered, tears building up. “No cry,” her voice cracked.

Damian turned to her, wiping his tears and bringing her to an embrace. “It’s okay, Val. I’m alright.”

“Hurt?” Valerie asked, tapping on his chest.

“No… not hurt,” he turned to his mother, smiling. “Relieved. I feel so much lighter now. Much lighter that I was before.”

Vivian wiped his tears that stained his cheek and pressed her forehead on his. “I love you, sweetheart. And so does your Father, okay?”

Damian chuckled. “I guess.”

“Abuu!” Valerie told him. It was I love you in her own way of saying.

“Come on, let’s get something from the kitchen. How does ice cream sound?” Vivian got up.

“I want chocolate,” said Damian, following her with Valerie in his arms.

“Okay,” Vivian had an arm around him as they walked down the hall. “Don’t worry about your father, I’ll talk to him. And give me the schedules you have in the hospital so we can talk about when Robin gets a break too.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

~ Far into the Future ~

Terry wouldn’t be surprised that everyone of Bruce Wayne’s children are skilled in martial arts, and knows a thing or two on stitching wounds. But who would have thought Bruce Wayne’s most bloodthirsty works at Sacred Heart Convalescent Home.

Normally it would be Valerie who stitches up his wounds, but for this one, she had to call for help to get this injury patched up. He knew it would be one of the Batkids, but he didn’t expect Damian Wayne to appear with a medical bag and a scowl on his face that was pointed at his father, who was standing there at Valerie’s side, watching them.

“There, all done,” Damian finished the stitch. “Normally, our mother would do some magic to finish the job completely, but with her dealing with things with the Endless at the moment, this would do,” he handed Terry some pain medication – two tablets – “Once a day,” he said firmly. “And knowing you won’t sit down and rest because you’re just as stubborn as the old man, make sure your movements are marginal so you don’t pop a stitch. If you do, call me — she’s still not that good at stitching. In fact, don't give her a scalpel. I remember her frog dissection project and it was horrifying.”

Valerie huffed at her brother and crossed her arms over her chest.

Seeing his sister’s reaction, Damian messed with her hair and said, “But I’d trust her to have your back on the field.”

“Val doesn’t go on the field,” Bruce said, sternly.

Damian sighed and said to his sister, “I better get going, I got surgery in a couple of hours.”

“Okay, need me to drive you there?” Valerie asked.

“No, I got it. Stay here and look after those two and tell Mom that I came by,” Damian hugged his sister and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll see you around, Penny.”

Valerie smiled and hugged him back. “You too, Robin,” she whispered. “Love you!”

With Damian gone, Valerie had Terry move to the manor and settled him in one of the rooms up there. She left him for a moment to see her father, who she helped to his bed and his medication – since her mom wasn’t there at the moment – before coming back to him with a hot soup and bread.

“Damian said that you need to build up your strength,” she placed the tray beside him.

“Thanks, Val,” Terry was trembling when he tried to get the spoon, and he was having a hard time leaning down to get a sip, so Valerie took the tray and the spoon from him and shoved the spoonful of soup into his mouth. “Thanks,” he muttered at the violent way she did it. “So, Doctor Damian Wayne?”

“Yeah,” Valerie held out the spoon for him.

“He’s the youngest of the Robins, right?”

“Yup. The blood son of the Batman,” she chuckled at the memory on how her older brothers would tease Damian. “And the bloodthirsty.”

He knew it.

“So, how did he…”

“Suddenly become a doctor dedicated to saving lives?”

“Yeah.”

“He went through a lot… a lot of thinking, self-doubt, eventually he was at that time of his life where he needed to decide what he wants to do. How he wants to help people, and then he suddenly hung up the cape and the mask and went to Med School. Everyone was in shock when he said that he was quitting and that he wanted to study medicine.”

“How did Bruce take it?”

Valerie took a breath. “Hard but Mom was there to soften the blow. We’re proud of him, for what he’s doing. And though he’s a doctor, Damian Wayne still knows how to kick ass but not in a lethal way. But he’ll still dangle you over the building if you mess with him, his patients and his family.”

“Speaking from experience?” Terry joked.

“Let’s just say, he and the Robins and Batman hunted down a man who kidnapped me and he dangled someone over the railways to get information. And he was in Medical School at that time too.”

“Oh. And him and Bruce? Did something happen to them?” Terry asked, sensing the tension between he father and son earlier.

“Since he became a doctor, he didn’t like it when Batman recruits minors to do crime fighting.”

“Kind of hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Valerie shoved a spoon into his mouth. Terry made a mental note to not hire Valerie Pryor-Wayne as a personal nurse.

“He grew up and had a few realizations,” Val shrugged. “Nothing hypocritical about that. Finish this so I can head back and study the case, I also gotta look at some things we found at Midnite’s club too.”

Terry chuckled, “Yes, Ma’am.”

~*~

Sitting in his office, Damian prepared himself for his surgery by studying the charts of his patient over and over again. Trying to find the best way to do this efficiently and without complications.

The sudden presence in the room did not pull him from his concentration, but when she had a hand on his shoulder did he finally turn away from the charts and looked at the woman standing there.

“Mom,” He squeezed her hand and smiled at her. “Family dinner’s done?”

Vivian Pryro-Wayne has aged, just like her husband, her red hair now had streaks of white t. She had wrinkles on her face and neck, but was still as beautiful as she was when she was younger. And the look in her eyes and the smile on her face never changed whenever she is with her husband and her children.

“Yeah, it’s done,” Vivian sighed. “We had to settle some things with the stewards of Hell. And the case that Val and Terry are doing are a bit connected with the one we’re dealing with.”

“You and John?” Damian got up poured a glass of scotch for his mother.

“Yup.”

Damian sighed. “You gotta stop this, Mom. You’re not as young as you used to.”

“I know, I know, but unlike Batman, I don’t get to retire from this. As long as this power is with me, I have responsibilities to keep the balance of the cosmos… balanced.”

“Very articulate,” he teased.

Vivian laughed, then brought her son to an embrace.

“You should head home and rest, Mom.”

“I know, but I just want to see how you are.”

“I got surgery in a couple of hours… but I’m doing fine.”

Vivian smiled and kissed his cheek. “I know you are. I’m proud of you, Damian. Always remember that.”

Damian smiled and held his mother tight. “I know. Thank you, Mom.”

#batfam #batman x reader #batman #dc fanfic #fanfic #bruce wayne #batman fanfiction #dc universe #dc batman #dc comics

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fandomfablesunleashed · 2 days ago

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Imperfectly Yours

Ace x reader (she/her)

MODERN AU. Christmas movie rom-com vibe. Reader is the daughter of Whitebeard and is shorter than Ace.

This is how I imagine the cover to look like, if anyone's curious

Honestly, I feel like it could use some more work, but I really wanted to put it out here during the Christmas season. I doubt I’ll have more time to work on it soon, so here it is. Happy holidays to those who celebrate! ❤️🎄

English is not my first language

🫶 @captainportgasdace 🫶

Ficmas masterlist

Main masterlist

You stepped out of your car and looked around. While you had grown up in this small town, you hadn't been back for quite some time. The air felt crisp against your face, and it felt almost unreal being back. You took a deep breath in and looked towards the bar across the street. It was a familiar place to you, your dad's pub being as dear to you as your own home.

Without any more hesitation, you began walking across the street towards it, passing by the small shops on the sidewalk. Each one was decorated to match the Christmas season, with colorful lights being strung outside and in the windows. The sight brought a small smile to your face.

Opening the front door, you walked in, the warm air and smell of alcohol and food almost enveloping you entirely. The place was lively with the music and the sounds of multiple people chatting. You even recognized some of them as regulars.

You could faintly hear your dad talking to one customer before he finally looked up and saw you. His face immediately lit up into a big smile.

Your father, Edward Newgate—better known as Whitebeard—was a renowned figure in your small town. His bar, the Moby Dick, was nothing short of legendary, a place where he commanded respect effortlessly while making everyone who walked through its doors feel genuinely welcome.

“Long time no see,” he said, putting down a glass he was wiping on the bar and leaning on it with both hands.

“Heya, Dad,” you said with a small chuckle. "Sorry, I haven't been back in a while. Things got hectic in the city.”

“You've got your own life going on; can't always be home. Now, give your old man a hug,” he said, stepping out from behind the bar, arms wide open to embrace you.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “You’re not that old yet, Dad,” you said with a grin, wrapping your arms around him in a warm hug. He hugged you back tightly.

When you pulled away, your dad patted your shoulder. “Still got plenty of life left in me,” he said with a hearty laugh. Then, turning to the room, he raised his voice joyfully. “My daughter’s home! Let’s celebrate! The next round is on me!”

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd, filling the bar with energy.

“Dad!” you scolded, laughing. “That’s not how you’re supposed to run a business!”

He only laughed harder. “Oh, don’t worry! I can afford to treat them every now and then—especially for an occasion as amazing as this!” Then, turning back to you, he gently guided you toward the bar, pulling out a stool for you before sitting down beside you. “And how is the city life treating you, sweetie?”

"It's alright," you said with a small smile. "I'm still working at that company, but things have been a bit hectic there lately. Kind of burned out on the whole thing."

Your dad nodded in understanding and gave you a sympathetic smile. "I hear ya," he said, patting your shoulder. "Work stress can get to everyone. You take some time off for yourself?"

You sighed, resting your cheek on your hand. “That’s the problem, Dad,” you said with a slight pout. “Every time I try to take a break, some new problem pops up, and I get dragged right back in.”

"Sounds stressful," he said. "Sounds like you could really use a break from all that, huh?"

You laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah, that’s part of why I decided to come back here,” you admitted with a sheepish grin. "Thought I could take a break from the city and come help you out a bit here."

Your dad’s face lit up with a wide smile. "Well, I'm glad to have the help, honey," he said with a chuckle. "I can never turn away help from my lovely daughter, of course."

Just then, something caught your dad’s attention. He looked past you with a wave. “And don’t worry, you don’t need to worry about me,” he said, with a reassuring smile. “I’ve got some help. Like this young man here.”

He pointed behind you, and you turned around to look. You instantly recognized the man walking into the bar, carrying a couple of boxes in his arms.

Ace.

He had definitely changed since you last saw him. He seemed more mature, his muscles more defined, and he looked even more handsome than before.

Your eyes stayed glued on Ace as he walked over to the bar, set down the boxes with a thud, and looked up to see you and Whitebeard watching him. He looked between the two of you, and a familiar big grin appeared on his face.

“Oh man, you’re back in town!”

“Ace, hey,” you said, trying to hide your surprise. “Yeah, I’m back for the holidays.”

“Well, damn, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he said, glancing you up and down.

“Yeah, it has,” you said, trying to ignore just how attractive he looked now. Not that he wasn't good-looking before. “Looks like you got a lot bigger since the last time I was here.”

He chuckled and flexed his arms. “A lot of lifting and stuff like that—made me bulk up a good amount.”

“Yeah, I see that,” you said, trying not to stare too much at his toned arms.

“It’s kinda my best feature now,” he joked.

You almost protested his words but stopped yourself. While his muscles and body were obviously impressive, you had always liked his face more than anything. That cocky grin that always got to you, and those freckles…

His freckles used to make him look cute when you were kids, but now they only added to how unfairly handsome he had become. Damn him for growing up so well.

You tried to brush the thoughts away and crossed your arms. “Well, I see you've gotten even more arrogant and smug than before, somehow.”

He let out a barking laugh at your words, that same cocky smirk still on his face. “And you still have those snarky remarks.”

You rolled your eyes as he laughed at your quip but couldn’t help a smile of your own. “Well, you're still easy to taunt.”

Before Ace could come back with a retort, Whitebeard cut both of you off. “You two can flirt later,” he said, a slight smirk playing on his face.

Both you and Ace immediately became flustered and stumbling over denials.

“W-we weren’t—!” Ace protested, glaring at Whitebeard, though the intensity was lost behind his flushed cheeks.

“Sure you weren't,” Whitebeard chuckled, still watching your faces burn. “While you've been busy making a name for yourself in the city,” he said, “Ace here has been a big help around the bar while you were gone.”

Your face was still flushed, but you glanced at Ace at your dad's words, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “You’ve been helping out here?” you asked.

Ace smiled sheepishly, hands shoved into his pockets. “Yeah, after I got back from my travels, and with Sabo and Luffy moving away, I needed something to keep me busy,” he said with a small chuckle. “And Pops was nice enough to let me work here and help him out.”

Whitebeard chuckled and reached over to ruffle Ace's hair, like he was still a kid. “He's definitely a loudmouth, and can be a pain in my ass when he's bored,” he said, and Ace protested, but Whitebeard waved him off. “But he's a good worker and has been a huge help around here.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you watched the two of them, clearly entertained by Ace’s protests. “I bet he keeps things interesting around here,” you teased, smirking at him, and he stuck his tongue out in response.

Whitebeard chuckled again, letting go of Ace's hair. “He certainly keeps things from getting dull,” he said with a warm smile. “And he gets along with the regulars just fine, which is a plus. and the girls are always all over him,” Whitebeard joked, and Ace’s face turned red at the comment. You laughed, watching his tomato-red face, finding it amusing how easily flustered he was.

“They are not!” Ace argued, looking between the two of you, but the blush on his face made it clear he was lying.

“Yeah, I bet you're a hit with all the customers,” you remarked, leaning back against the bar with a smirk. “Girls must be swooning all over you every day.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “It's not that bad…”

“Damn, I hope my presence here doesn’t scare your fan girls away.”

“Fan girls… they are not fan girls! It's not that many!” Ace protested again, trying to cover his embarrassment with annoyance, but the blush on his face betrayed him, making him look like a pouting child. It was kind of adorable.

“Sure, sure,” you smirked at him.

“Hey, a customer is a customer,” your dad finally chimed in with a grin. “I’m not about to complain about some extra business—even if it’s just for the chance to ogle him.”

"Pops!" Ace protested again, looking betrayed, while you continued chuckling, enjoying his reaction.

Whitebeard continued to make fun of Ace's protest, clearly reveling in his reaction. Slowly he stood up, his towering figure casting a shadow over the bar. “Since you'll be in town for a while, and you'll be helping out here too, I have a few things for you to keep in mind,” he said as he fixed you with a knowing smile. You rose to your feet as well, nodding toward Ace with a playful smirk.

“Catch you later,” you spoke before following your dad toward the back of the bar.

Whitebeard and you stepped away from the lively clamor of the bar, moving deeper into the quieter, more secluded space. You paid close attention to what your dad had to say, listening as he went over the recent changes and new things that you needed to know for your time here.

You took in all the information given to you, making mental notes of the changes and additions to the bar's operations. You nodded along to his words and asked a few questions to clarify some points, making sure you had everything straight in your head.

While going over the new things in his bar, your dad also took the time to talk about Ace and how much he had helped since he started working here. He spoke highly of Ace's dedication, work ethic, and reliability. He even laughed a little, shaking his head fondly. He clearly liked that boy.

“And he might even make a good son-in-law one day,” he added, his tone suddenly teasing, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

“D-dad, that's-!” you stammered, the warmth creeping up your neck. Embarrassment washed over you in waves at your dad's cheeky suggestion.

Whitebeard, always one to enjoy your reactions, couldn't help but laugh at your state. He smirked, glancing between you and Ace, who was hard at work behind the bar. “I’m just saying,” he continued, his grin widening, “you two would be a good match.”

“Dad, that's—I mean… no, I—” The flustered stammer was all you could manage as you tried to find some coherent response to his teasing.

Whitebeard let out another rich laugh at your discomfort, thoroughly enjoying every moment of it. With a sly grin, he gave you a gentle pat on the back, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just something to think about,” he said with a wink, clearly relishing your embarrassment as he turned to walk back toward the bar, leaving you baffled.

Deep down, you couldn’t deny that the idea of being with Ace wasn’t entirely unappealing, even if it felt a little embarrassing to admit. Still, you reminded yourself of the reality. You were leaving for the city soon, while Ace would stay here. Thinking about something that couldn’t happen felt pointless, so you convinced yourself he didn’t feel the same way and decided not to dwell on that anymore.

When the bar finally closed for the night and the customers had left, a few workers and some friends stayed behind, socializing and enjoying themselves a bit more. You lingered as well, chatting and catching up with some of the bar's staff. As you looked around, you spotted Ace in a corner, talking to a few of the other workers.

For a moment, you simply watched him. His laughter rang out warmly, his easygoing charisma drawing the group closer. You admired the way he carried himself, effortlessly connecting with those around him. Finally, gathering your thoughts, you stepped closer and called out to him.

“Hey, Ace,” you said.

Excusing himself from the group, he turned his full attention to you and approached, leaning casually against the wall beside you.

“Hey,” he greeted, his smile growing as he met your gaze. “What's up? Need something?”

You smiled back warmly. “My dad told me how much you've helped out here,” you replied, your voice filled with gratitude. “I just wanted to thank you for everything. I really appreciate it.”

Ace shrugged, brushing off your thanks. “It's no big deal,” he responded. “I was just lending a hand. Besides, it’s nice to keep busy.”

You exhaled softly, your expression tinged with worry. “Honestly, I was a little concerned about how things would go here while I was in the city,” you admitted, guilt creeping into your voice. “I felt bad leaving for so long.”

“Hey, don't worry about it,” he comforted you. “We managed just fine while you were gone. And besides, it’s not like you were slacking off or something. You were working hard and doing your thing.”

You couldn’t help but beam at his reassurance, a small weight lifting off your shoulders. “Yeah, I know. But still… I couldn’t stop myself from worrying about this place and everyone here.”

“You worry too much,” he said, his fond smile making it hard not to feel at ease. “This place is in good hands. We're all doing fine—you don’t need to stress yourself out so much.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admitted, exhaling as some tension left your body.

Ace leaned casually against the wall beside you, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sparkled with curiosity. “So, how’s city life treating you?”

You chuckled softly, rolling your eyes at his teasing. “Oh, you know, it’s the city,” you replied with an exaggerated shrug. “Hectic, busy, chaotic—exactly what you’d imagine.”

Ace grinned, a flicker of nostalgia crossing his face as he tilted his head slightly. “You always used to complain about how overwhelming the city was when we were younger,” he said, his voice warm and thoughtful. “So, what is it now? Have you grown to like it, or do you still prefer the quiet life?”

His words surprised you, and for a moment, you just stared at him. The fact that he remembered such a small detail about you from years ago struck a chord. “I’m impressed you remembered that,” you answered. “I didn’t think you paid much attention to me back then.”

Ace shrugged, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips. “Of course I did. I might’ve been a bit of a handful, sure, but I wasn’t blind to everything around me.”

His words left you smiling, warmth blooming in your chest. It was such a simple thing, but the thought that he’d noticed and remembered something about you felt deeply touching.

You decided to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “I wouldn’t say I love the chaos,” you admitted, shaking your head slightly. “But I’ve gotten used to it, I guess. I can handle the hustle and bustle a bit better now...”

“So, you've learned to adapt to the city life, huh? I must say, I'm a little disappointed. You always seemed like more of a small-town type of girl.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment or insult?”

“Take it however you like,” he said with a carefree shrug. “I’m just surprised the city hasn’t driven you completely crazy yet.”

You hesitated for a moment, considering whether you should reveal how difficult the city life had been for you. The urge to tell him the truth was there, but a part of you was reluctant, unsure if you wanted to open up about the struggles you’d been facing. You glanced at him, uncertain if you should share your truth.

After a few moments of internal debate, you decided to take the leap. “Actually,” you began, your voice quieter than usual. “If I’m being totally honest, it kind of has driven me crazy. Living there by myself has been… harder than I thought.”

Ace’s expression softened when he heard the vulnerability in your voice. There was surprise in his eyes, but also understanding. He tilted his head slightly, listening more intently now.

“It’s just…” you continued, your voice faltering a little as you spoke. “Living alone, everything feels so chaotic, so overwhelming. I’ve been struggling to adapt, to keep it together on my own. Maybe I’m not cut out for this kind of life.”

You let out a small, bitter laugh, shaking your head at yourself. “It’s ironic,” you said, your words carrying a sense of regret. “I used to dream of escaping this small town, to see something more, to do something different. But now that I’m living in the city, I find myself missing the simplicity and comfort of this place more than ever.”

Ace opened his mouth to respond but paused when you glanced at him, waiting. He thought for a moment, then ran a hand through his hair, his eyes thoughtful. “I get that,” he said, his tone more serious now. “I’ve felt that way a lot during my travels.”

“I missed the familiarity,” he continued, his voice softening. “The comfort of being somewhere you know, with people you care about. That’s partly why I came back.”

You looked at him, your eyes slightly widened. Hearing that he could relate to your struggle made you feel a little less isolated. “Really?” you asked, not even hiding surprise in your tone. “You actually missed this place, even while you were out there seeing all sorts of different places?”

“Yeah, I did,” he nodded. “There were moments when I was far away, when the road stretched on and on, that I found myself missing this small town. The people, the way everything felt familiar… After a while, the constant moving, the not having a place to call my own, it started to wear me down, I guess.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you found yourself relating more than you expected. You had always seen Ace as someone who thrived on adventure, always moving, never tied down. Hearing him say that even he missed the comfort of stability gave you a strange sense of connection.

“So, that’s why you came back?”

Ace’s smile widened slightly at your question, and he gave a casual shrug, though there was something deeper behind it. “Partly,” he replied, his voice carrying a thoughtful tone. He paused for a moment, as if weighing something.

“Partly?” you pressed, your tone a little more insistent, urging him to share more. “What was the other reason?”

Just as Ace opened his mouth to respond, the sound of Whitebeard’s booming voice echoed through the bar, cutting your conversation short. “It’s getting late,” Whitebeard announced, his voice carrying authority. “Time to close up and head out.”

You and Ace exchanged a look, the moment slipping away too quickly. You both knew there wasn’t enough time to continue your conversation now. You let out a small sigh, your curiosity still swirling inside you, left unsatisfied. There was something in Ace’s eyes, something he hadn’t shared yet, and you found yourself wondering if you’d ever get to hear it.

You wiped the last of the spilled beer from the counter with a rag, your eyes scanning the empty bar. The clinking of glassware and the muted hum of the old jukebox had faded into silence, signaling the end of another long night. You'd been home for a few days now, back in the sleepy town where you’d grown up, and the quiet had started to finally feel familiar.

You sighed as you stood up from the counter, glancing at the clock. The bar’s last patrons had left hours ago, and it was finally time to close. Just as you moved toward the back to grab the cleaning supplies, the door swung open again, the sound of the bell jingling.

“Hey. You still here?” Ace’s voice called out, playful as ever.

You turned and saw him standing in the doorway, his jacket slung over one shoulder, the familiar grin on his face. You couldn’t suppress a smile. Ace D. Portgas. The same as ever. He'd always had a way of showing up at just the right time, or maybe it was more like the wrong time, depending on how you looked at it.

“Of course I’m still here,” you replied, setting the rag down. “You don’t think I intended to leave without cleaning up, do you?”

Ace chuckled, walking into the bar like it was his second home—because, in a way, it kind of was. Whitebeard saw Ace as part of the family, after all, and he reminded you about that far too much, hinting how much he would love for it to be official.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve got your work ethic and all that, but c'mon, take a break. You’ve been at this all night.”

You shook your head, laughing. “I’m fine. You know how it is, Ace. People come in, they want to drink, and we keep it running. Besides, someone has to make sure Dad doesn’t overdo it on his own.”

“You know, it’s not your job to babysit him.”

You shrugged, leaning against the bar yourself. “Someone has to.”

Ace just rolled his eyes and started to help out. You were still surprised why he showed up here now, but you weren't to question him, especially when he was helping you out.

“You seen the festival yet?” Ace asked you suddenly.

“Festival?”

“The Winter Starlight Festival,” he clarified. “It’s a big deal around here. You must remember that.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning on the counter again. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been… busy with, you know, running the bar and getting back into the swing of things. I’m sure it’s the same old thing.”

Ace’s grin widened. “No way. You have to see it. It’s part of the charm. You grew up here, you can’t skip it now that you’re back.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I wasn’t exactly planning on reliving my childhood.”

But Ace wasn’t deterred. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter, and looked at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye. “Well, too bad. You’re coming with me tomorrow night, no excuses. I’ll drag you if I have to.”

You hesitated for a moment, then sighed, your smile softening. “Fine. But only because you’re not going to let me hear the end of it if I don’t.”

Ace straightened up, looking pleased with himself. “I knew you’d come around. It’s going to be great. You’ll see.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“And you love it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

You rolled your eyes again, but there was warmth in your chest you hadn’t expected. Maybe, just maybe, you could use a little more of the charm this town had to offer—and a little less of the city hustle that still clung to you.

When you went to the festival, the night came alive with the vibrant hum of the winter festivities. Lanterns were strung across the town square, casting a warm, golden glow over the snow-dusted ground.

You pulled your scarf tighter against the sharp winter chill, glancing at Ace beside you. His grin was as bright as the lights surrounding them, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold—or maybe from the excitement. He was holding two steaming cups of hot wine, one of which he handed to you.

“Here, this’ll warm you up,” he said with a wink.

You took a sip, sighing at the way the spiced drink thawed your insides. “I almost forgot how charming this festival is.”

“Almost?” Ace raised an eyebrow, mock-offended. “Come on, this is the highlight of the year!”

You laughed, bumping your shoulder against his. “Maybe. What’s next, the snowball fight tournament?”

Ace smirked, shaking his head. “You wish. I signed us up for the partner’s sled race.”

Your eyes widened. “You what?”

Before you could protest, the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, calling for participants to gather at the starting line. Ace grabbed your free hand, tugging you toward the race area.

“Oh, come on,” he said, his voice laced with mischief. “You’re not afraid of a little friendly competition, are you?”

The sleds were lined up at the top of a hill, each designed for two people. You groaned when you saw the steep slope and the sharp twists in the track.

“This was your idea of fun?” you asked, glaring at Ace. He only grinned wider.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got the steering, and you’ve got… uh… balance.”

“That doesn’t sound like an equal division of labor!”

“Relax,” Ace said, climbing into the sled and patting the space behind him. “I promise I won’t get us killed.”

Grumbling under your breath, you settled behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’d better not.”

When the whistle blew, the sleds shot forward down the hill, the crisp wind biting at your face. Your initial scream of protest quickly turned into laughter as Ace expertly navigated the twists and turns, leaning into each curve with practiced ease. You gripped him tighter when they hit a jump, the sled briefly airborne before landing smoothly.

By the time you crossed the finish line, you were both breathless, laughing, and covered in snowflakes that clung to your hair and clothes. You didn’t win, but it hardly seemed to matter.

“See?” Ace said, his eyes sparkling. “Told you it’d be fun.”

You shook your head, your cheeks aching from smiling so much. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you’re stuck with me for the rest of the festival,” he replied, offering you his hand to help you up.

As the evening wore on, you both wandered between the booths, sampling festival treats and watching the performers. But it wasn’t just the music or the festivities that kept you there. You couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the amount of hot beverages you’d consumed.

You were starting to realize that the small, quiet moments with Ace—no matter how absurd—were the best part of being home.

The next day, you dedicated your time to transforming the bar into a Christmas spectacle. You adorned the space with festive decorations, creating a cozy and merry atmosphere. Garlands and tinsel hung from every available surface, while Christmas trinkets and baubles were strategically placed around the bar.

You were standing on a stool, tying a garland around one of the bar's rafters, when you heard the door creak open. You turned to see Ace walking into the bar.

“Hey, Ace,” you greeted him, a small smile on your face. “Just the person I wanted to see. Would you mind giving me a hand with something?”

Ace raised an eyebrow at your request, a hint of curiosity and amusement in his eyes as he took in the sight of you balancing on the stool with the garland in hand. “Oh?” he said, walking closer to you. “What do you need me to do?”

You chuckled at his response, lowering the garland from the rafter. “I need help with these garlands,” you said, gesturing toward the rest of the undecorated areas of the bar. “They're a bit too high for me to reach. Could you hang them for me?”

Ace looked at the remaining garlands and the high areas of the bar, a cocky grin appearing on his face. “Sure thing,” he said with a smirk. “Step aside, I got this.”

You stepped down from the stool, watching as Ace confidently climbed. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his overconfidence. You handed him the garlands and stepped back to watch and guide him if needed.

Ace took the garlands from you, and he hung them with ease, his eyes darting around the bar to ensure everything was perfectly placed. You watched him, a small, impressed smile playing on your lips. You had to admit, Ace was surprisingly good at this unexpected task, and he seemed to be enjoying himself a bit too much.

Ace finished hanging the last of the garlands and stepped down from the stool, a satisfied smile on his face. “There you go,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Perfect placement, if I do say so myself.”

You chuckled at his pride and rolled your eyes playfully. “Yes, you did a great job,” you admitted, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. “You're such a natural at Christmas decorating.”

“What can I say? I'm a man of many talents,”

You folded your arms and looked at him. “Speaking of which,” you said, your tone slightly coy, “do you think you could help me get a Christmas tree for the bar?”

Ace raised an eyebrow, pretending to think for a moment. “A Christmas tree, huh?” he replied, a sly smile spreading across his face. “I suppose I could spare some time to help you with that.”

“Oh, thank you,” you spoke, your voice sincere. “I've been struggling to figure out how to get one all by myself. It's a bit challenging to transport a Christmas tree by myself. And I didn't want to trouble Dad.”

“I can imagine. Don’t mention it. I’ll help you get the tree. I was thinking of getting one here anyway.”

“Great,” you said, a hint of excitement in your voice. “I really appreciate your help.”

“No problem. I can't have you struggling with Christmas decorating all by yourself. Besides, it'll be fun.”

You smiled at his easygoing attitude, once again noticing how willing he always was to help. “Fun, huh?” you said with a slightly sarcastic tone. “I'm sure hauling a Christmas tree to the bar will be a blast.”

Ace chuckled, his smirk widening. “Hey, any activity can be fun with the right company,” he said, his eyes meeting yours briefly.

You felt a slight flutter in your chest at his words, but quickly pushed it aside. “Oh, so I'm the right company, huh?” you teased.

Ace shrugged. “Of course,” he said nonchalantly. “Who else would I prefer to spend my time with on a Christmas tree-picking adventure?”

You couldn’t resist a small jab. “One of your fangirls, maybe?”

Ace shook his head, the smirk on his face unwavering. “Nah,” he said, his tone casual. “They're too clingy. I prefer you and your sarcastic remarks.”

A hint of satisfaction and something resembling flattery crept up on you, but you quickly regained your composure. “Better not tell them that.”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckled. “I don’t need them getting jealous over our little Christmas tree-picking adventure.”

“Oh, I'm sure they would be devastated,”

Ace laughed and pushed himself off the wall. “Let’s go find ourselves a tree.”

As you both turned to head out, you caught a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall of the bar. It was earlier than you initially thought, and a look of realization crossed your face. You paused for a moment and looked back at him.

“Wait a minute,” you said, furrowing your brow slightly. “Why did you come here so early?”

Ace, already heading towards the door, stopped in his tracks and turned back to you. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “What do you mean?” he asked, feigning innocence.

You stood there, arms crossed, a skeptical look on your face. “I mean,” you continued, your tone slightly amused. “It’s a lot earlier than you should come in.”

He scratched the back of his head and shrugged casually. “Yeah, I guess I did come in a bit earlier today,” he admitted, trying to maintain his nonchalance.

“Why is that?” you asked, a small, puzzled smile on your face. “What brings you here so early today?”

Ace scratched the back of his head again, his casual demeanor faltering slightly. He looked a little awkward and admitted, “Well, actually, Pops may have mentioned that you were coming in early to decorate the bar. So, I thought I'd pop in and see if you needed any help.”

You were taken aback by his sudden shyness, a rare sight from the usually confident Ace. “Ah, I see,” you said, a soft smile spreading across your face. “So, you came in to offer your assistance, huh?”

“Yeah, figured I might as well lend a hand if you need it.”

You sensed his slight discomfort and decided to ease the tension. “Well, I did use a hand,” you said, your tone lighthearted. “Especially since you were so good at hanging garlands.”

“Yeah, I do have a talent for decorating.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased. “Now, come on, let’s get that tree, and we’ll see later if you can decorate one as well.”

“Oh, you doubt my tree-decorating abilities? Challenge accepted.”

“Just don’t disappoint me.”

As you walked toward the door, you didn’t notice how Ace mumbled quietly behind you. “I'd never want to disappoint you…”

His voice was soft, barely audible, but he had said it regardless.

Unaware of his whispered words, you continued walking to the door, your mind focused on the upcoming tree-picking adventure. Little did you know the impact of those soft-spoken words that had escaped Ace’s mouth.

After a small drive in Ace's pickup truck, you and Ace reached the tree-hunting spot. The area was filled with rows of Christmas trees of various sizes and species. The smell of pine filled the air, and the trees swayed gently in the cool winter breeze.

You glanced around at the vast array of trees, a touch of awe on your face. “Wow,” you said, a hint of excitement in your voice. “There are so many to choose from!”

Ace stood next to you, his hands in his pockets, scanning the trees with a critical eye. “Yeah, there's quite a selection here.”

You nodded, your eyes darting from tree to tree. “Right,” you agreed, a determined expression on your face. “We need to find one that's just the right size and shape for the bar.”

He chuckled a bit at your determined expression, finding it somewhat endearing. “Don't worry,” he said, a note of amusement in his voice. “I'm sure you will find the perfect one.”

You shot him a quick glare, your determination unwavering. “Oh, I will,” you said, your tone slightly sassy. “I won't settle for anything less than perfection.”

As you surveyed the trees with keen focus, you didn’t notice the subtle shift in Ace’s expression. Your remark about not settling for anything less than perfection seemed to hit him in a way you hadn’t anticipated. His jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, his usual carefree demeanor evaporated.

“Hey, what do you think of this one?” you asked, turning to him and gesturing to a tall, full tree.

Ace blinked, shaking off his thoughts as he glanced at the tree you pointed out. He forced a casual tone. “Looks pretty good,” he said, his voice returning to its usual easygoing cadence. “Should make a nice centerpiece for the bar.”

You studied the tree, your eyes dancing over its lush branches, a pleased smile curling on your lips. “Yeah, I think you're right,” you agreed. “It has the perfect shape and size, plus it's really full and lush. Let’s go get it!”

“Alright then,” he said with a smirk. “Lead the way, Christmas tree connoisseur.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Hey, I just know what I want,” you defended with a small smile. “You haven’t even tried to help me pick a tree.”

“Well, you seemed to have it all under control,” he teased. “I didn’t want to interrupt your quest for perfection.”

The bitter edge that had briefly crept into his voice when he mentioned your search for perfection didn’t go unnoticed by you. You shot him a questioning glance, but before you could ask, the salesman, a jovial middle-aged man, approached with a friendly greeting.

“Are you both here to pick a Christmas tree today?”

You smiled politely at him, momentarily distracted from the conversation. “Yes, we are,” you replied. “We’d like to get this one here.”

The salesman examined the tree you had chosen, nodding approvingly. “Excellent choice,” he said with a grin. “This one will look lovely in your home.”

You opened your mouth to correct him, but before you could speak, Ace quickly interjected with a smirk.

“Yep, she’s got a good eye for these things,” he said, his voice still laced with mockery. “She won’t settle for less than perfection.”

The salesman chuckled, clearly interpreting the playful banter as a sign of affection. “Well, it seems you’ve got yourself a determined partner,” he remarked, nodding at the tree.

You shot Ace a pointed glare, clearly unimpressed by his teasing or the salesman's assumption. But before you could respond, the salesman continued, “Shall I bring it over to checkout for you?”

“Yeah, that would be great,” Ace said, his voice casual.

The salesman nodded and walked off to get a tree and arrange the payment. You stood for a moment, your gaze still locked on Ace, not hiding the irritation in your eyes.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You look a bit irritated.”

“I’m not irritated,” you huffed, your tone sharp. “I just don’t appreciate your mockery, that’s all.”

“Oh, come on, I was just teasing,” he said lightly. “Can’t a guy have a little fun?”

You rolled your eyes. “I just don’t understand why you got so hung up on my comment about wanting perfection,”

As soon as the words left your lips, Ace’s playful smirk faltered. His expression hardened, his jaw setting. “Let’s just pay for the tree,” he muttered, his voice more serious.

Without another word, Ace turned and walked toward the salesman, leaving you standing there, your confusion mounting. What had just happened? Your comment about perfection had clearly struck a nerve, but why?

Shaking your head, you let out a quiet sigh and followed him to the salesman. “All set to pay for this beauty?” the man asked.

“Yes, we’re ready,” Ace replied politely, though his voice was a little distant.

You waited silently beside him, your curiosity about Ace’s reaction still nagging at you. You glanced at him briefly, noting how his jaw remained tense, but you said nothing. Not here, not now.

The payment and arrangements for the tree felt like a blur to you. Your mind kept drifting back to that moment—Ace's abrupt shift in mood, his strange reaction to your words about perfection. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was going on, but for now, the Christmas tree was the priority.

“Ugh, can you shift it a bit to the left?” Ace grumbled, his patience wearing thin.

“I'm trying!” you retorted, your voice matching his frustrated tone. “It's not exactly easy when you're stuck holding all the branches.”

“Well, maybe if you had chosen a slightly smaller tree, we wouldn't be struggling like this,” he fired back.

“Oh, like you were any help with choosing,” you shot back, your eyes narrowing. “You just stood there making weird comments.”

“I-”

He was about to spit out a retort, but before he could, you both heard a booming voice come from behind you, “What's all this noise about?”

Turning around, you saw the large figure of your dad approaching, a curious expression on his face.

“Uh, we, um,” you started, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish at being caught bickering. “We're just trying to bring the tree in.”

Whitebeard eyed the large tree you were struggling with and chuckled heartily. “Quite a big one you've got there.”

Ace shifted his grip on the tree, a hint of embarrassment on his face. “Yeah, it was the only one that fit her standards,” he said, casting a quick glare your way.

You shot him a withering glance in return, not appreciating his comment. Whitebeard let out another hearty chuckle, amused by your banter. “I see,” he said, crossing his arms. “Well, let me give you both a hand, then.”

Both you and Ace accepted the help gratefully, and with his assistance, you finally managed to maneuver the tree through the doorway and into the bar’s main room. Exhausted, you leaned against the bar, taking a moment to catch your breath.

Whitebeard looked over the tree and gave an approving nod. “Not bad, not bad at all,” he said, a satisfied smile on his face. “It’ll make for quite the centerpiece for the bar.”

You nodded in agreement, your earlier irritation with Ace momentarily forgotten. “Yeah, it looks perfect,” you expressed, a slight sense of accomplishment in your voice.

“Looks like you two make a pretty good team, even with the bickering,” he teased, which earned him a small mock-glare from both of you.

“We manage, don’t we?” Ace said, glancing at you with a small smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “Yes, we do.”

Whitebeard watched the exchange between you two with a knowing smile, not missing the slight tension in the air. Deciding it was time to leave you both be, he patted you both on the backs.

“Well, best leave you both to it then,” he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. “I'm sure you've got plenty of decorating ahead of you.”

You both nodded and thanked him for his help, watching as he made his way back toward the back.

“I've got it from here,” you said the moment your dad left you two alone. “You don't have to stay for the decorating part.”

Ace, who had been leaning against the bar, looked a bit surprised at your statement. “No way! I'm helping.”

You were taken aback by his insistence to help, surprised that he was still willing after the previous bickering. But a small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Really? You want to help with decorating?”

Ace pushed himself off the bar and straightened, a smirk on his face. “Of course. Can't let you hog all the fun, can I?”

You chuckled, a feeling of gratitude fluttering in your chest. “Alright then, if you insist,” you said, your tone softer now. “I'm not going to turn down the help.”

Ace chuckled lightly and began rolling up his sleeves. “Let's get started then.”

You nodded and dug through the decorations you had left there earlier, pulling out string lights, tinsel, and various ornaments. Together, you started decorating the tree, hanging the lights, and placing baubles carefully on the branches.

Ace teased you lightly as you worked, making fun of your attention to detail and your need to have everything just so. You rolled your eyes at his comments, but a small smile lingered on your face as you adorned the tree.

Surprisingly, you worked together well, bantering back and forth as you decorated. The tree slowly took shape, lights twinkling and baubles glittering under the glow of the bar's lights. As you stepped back to admire the progress, Ace let out a low whistle.

“Looks like all of your perfectionism wasn’t for nothing,” he said, a hint of teasing in his tone. “This tree looks quite impressive, I must admit.”

You laughed and nudged him lightly, a genuine smile on your face. “I told you I knew what I was doing.”

You stopped and looked up at the tree, observing the nearly finished work. “There's only one thing missing,” You turned to Ace, holding up a small star for a tree topper. “Can you grab a chair and place this on top?”

“No need for a chair,” he answered confidently, and before you could respond, he stepped forward and easily picked you up in his arms.

You let out a surprised gasp, your eyes widening as you found yourself being lifted into the air. “Hey, what are you doing?! Put me down!” you protested, even as a small giggle escaped your lips.

“Don't worry, I've got you,” he assured you, walking closer to the tree. “And I'm not putting you down until this star is properly placed on the tree.”

You grumbled lightly, but your complaints were half-hearted, and you secretly enjoyed the sensation of him carrying you. You reached the tree, and he held you up next to the topmost branch.

“Ready?”

With a bit of a flourish, he lifted you higher, steadying you against the tree trunk. You placed the star at the very top, and he lowered you back down to the ground. A triumphant smile spread across his face as he looked up at the fully decorated tree.

“See? We made it just fine without the chair.”

“Show off.”

As you both looked at each other, you suddenly became aware of your proximity. Your bodies stood mere inches apart, his hands still resting on your waist. The realization sent a small flutter, but neither of you made a move to step away.

Your breath hitched slightly as your eyes met, and you could feel the solid warmth of his hands through the material of your shirt. You swallowed, your heart thudding in your chest. But rather than stepping back, you remained where you were, strangely aware of every point of contact between you.

Your gaze dropped to his hands on your waist, his long fingers splayed against your sides, and you swallowed again before looking at his face once more. His own eyes flicked down to your mouth, and your lips parted slightly in your shared surprise.

All the playful banter of earlier was gone, and now the silence between you was broken only by the sound of your breaths, mingling together in the small space between you. Then, as if by some unspoken cue, you both leaned in towards each other simultaneously.

Your lips were just a breath apart, and just when you thought you would feel his lips on yours, the bar door opened loudly, punctuated with the sound of the bell above it.

You snapped apart abruptly, both jumping back as if waking up from a dream. The cold air was a cruel blow against your heated skin, and the reality of the situation dawned on you. The spell was broken, and you were left standing there, awkwardly apart and aware of how close you'd come to kissing one another.

You both turned to see who had entered the bar, finding several familiar faces of Whitebeard's friends. A few of them raised eyebrows in surprise at the sudden distance between you two; one of them—Marco—even winked knowingly, but no one mentioned anything out loud. They all came in, chattering away, but neither of you could fully focus on the conversation. Your thoughts were still stuck on that interrupted moment, the memory of how close you'd come to crossing a line burning in your mind.

Soon after, your father joined you, and surveyed the room, his face lit up with approval. “Well, well, what do we have here?” he boomed, making his way over to where you stood. “Looks like you two have been productive.”

A surge of panic bubbled up inside you as you scrambled for something to say, your mind racing through possible responses. What would Ace say? What could you say to brush past this?

But before your thoughts could spiral out of control, Whitebeard mercifully continued:

“The tree looks splendid. You've done a fine job indeed.”

You both turned to your dad, doing your best to appear composed, though your racing hearts betrayed you. “Thanks,” you managed, your voice wavering just slightly. “We, uh, got it all done.”

“Yeah,” Ace added, “um, we did.”

You grimaced internally about how awkward both of you sounded, wondering if your father would figure something out or, worse, comment on it.

Whitebeard’s sharp eyes flicked between the two of you, a knowing glint in his gaze. A sly smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but he chose not to address it. Instead, he gave you both hearty pats on the back that nearly knocked the breath out of you. “Good work,” he said warmly. “I’m proud of you both.”

You cracked a brief smile in return, though the charged energy from earlier still coursed through you. The memory of how close you had been persisted like a flame refusing to burn out.

Soon, Whitebeard launched into a conversation about the holiday season and the upcoming celebrations. You nodded along, replying where needed, your words measured and careful. But no matter how hard you tried to focus, your thoughts kept drifting back to Ace. Each time your eyes accidentally met his, a flicker of shared awareness passed between you before you both quickly looked away.

The almost-kiss had changed something—a crackling tension that neither of you knew how to address. You continued interacting with others, keeping with a casual conversation. Yet, beneath it all, your pulse quickened with every stolen glance, the unspoken moment between you refusing to be forgotten.

It was just a few days after the near-kiss accident, and the bar was quieter than usual. The holidays were fast approaching, and you had spent most of the day restocking and preparing for the annual Christmas party Whitebeard hosted at the bar. Yet, your mind kept drifting back to that one moment—the one you couldn’t quite shake.

You could still feel the warmth of his breath as he leaned in just a little too close, the way your heart had skipped in your chest when he looked at you like that. It had felt like the perfect moment… You’d nearly kissed him, but you didn’t. Neither of you had. And neither of you had said a word about it since. It was as though it hadn’t happened at all, like the moment had been a figment of your imagination.

You pretended it didn’t happen, and both of you went back to your routine, working side by side in Whitebeard’s bar, the tension between you buried beneath the normalcy of your lives.

You were just about to step into the back to grab some more supplies when your phone buzzed on the counter. You glanced at the screen. It was a number from work—a colleague from the city you hadn’t spoken to in weeks.

“Hey,” you answered, walking into the back room. "How’s city life? Anything changed?"

His cheerful voice filled the line as you absently scanned the shelves, picking out a few items you’d need later.

“Yeah, it’s been a while! How’ve you been?” You picked up a few things, putting them together for easier access later. “Oh, no, I haven’t had the chance to—wait, what? You want to go on a date?” You paused your action, surprised by his question.

“I’m flattered, really. But no. I’m not—no, it’s not that. I’m just not interested like that.”

You finished your conversation quickly, grabbed the items you wanted, and headed back to the main room, slipping behind the bar. Ace was there, wiping down the counter with a level of intensity that felt... off. You turned to ask him a question, but the tension radiating from him stopped you. His jaw was set, and the cloth in his hand moved aggressively over the same spot.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, clearly trying to avoid eye contact.

You furrowed your brow. “You sure? You’re acting kinda weird.”

Ace let out a short, humorless laugh. “Weird, huh? Like you care?”

That was not the answer you expected. “Come on, what’s up, Ace? You’ve got that look in your eye.”

He stared at you, his eyes narrowing. “That look in my eye?”

“Yeah” you said, crossing your arms and leaning slightly against the bar. "That look. The ‘I’m-a-little-annoyed-but-I-don’t-want-to-tell-you’ look.”

Ace didn’t respond right away, instead shifting his gaze to the empty glasses in front of him. After a long beat, he looked up at you, a bitter edge in his voice. “You know that guy from the city must be perfect for you. He asked you out, didn’t he?”

“Well, yeah… but—”

He cut you off before you could finish. “You’re the city girl, the one with the perfect job, the perfect life. And then there’s me… I’m not that. I have nothing to offer. You wouldn’t want a guy like me. You can’t settle for less than perfect. I was so stupid to believe otherwise.”

Without another word, Ace turned on his heel and stormed out of the bar, the door closing with a sharp bang.

“Hey, kid. You look like you’ve got something heavy on your mind.”

You looked up, surprised to see the concern etched into your father’s weathered face. You hesitated, fiddling with the rag in your hands before sighing. “It’s nothing, Dad. Just the usual holiday stress.”

The bar was alive with the soft glow of Christmas lights; the smell of spiced cider filled the air, and cheerful decorations hung in every corner. But something was missing. Or more like someone.

Ace was nowhere to be found.

He hadn’t come back, and no matter how much you told yourself it didn’t matter, the truth was unavoidable. The empty space where he should have been felt cruelly obvious, hitting you with an ache that settled in your chest.

Was it too late to fix this?

Your dad's gaze stayed fixed on you, his eyes sharp and perceptive despite the softness of his tone. “Don’t give me that. I know when something’s bothering you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers brushing against the counter as if grounding yourself. “It’s Ace.”

Your father didn’t press for details. He didn’t need to—he already knew. “Ace, huh?” he said with a knowing chuckle. “You two have always had a funny way of dancing around things, but I can tell something’s different now.”

Your shoulders slumped, and you let your gaze drift to the empty stool where Ace usually perched, cracking jokes or lending a hand. “He… said some things. Things that I don’t know how to process… And then he left… And now, I don’t know what to do about it.”

Whitebeard leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms with a thoughtful nod. “Listen, kid. I know you’ve been through a lot in the city. You’ve always carried the weight of everything on your shoulders, always thinking about everyone else first—even your old man. But what about you? What about what you want?”

“Dad, I don’t know what I want. I—”

“You do,” he interrupted gently. “You’ve always known. You’re just scared of admitting it. You’ve always been afraid of choosing the wrong thing, of making the wrong choice, but sometimes—sometimes the right choice is the one that makes you the happiest, not the one that’s safe or easy. And I can see it, kid. Ace is important to you. He’s always been, even when you didn’t want to see it.”

You took a deep breath, your resolve solidifying as you straightened. “Thanks, Dad. I think I know what I need to do.”

His hand landed on your shoulder, heavy and reassuring, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Go get him. I’ll hold down the fort here. And you both better show up for the Christmas party. Happy and disgustingly in love.”

Grabbing your coat, you slipped out of the bar, heading for the small apartment where you knew Ace stayed when he wasn’t on the move. You knocked first, but there was no answer. So, you pushed the door open—just a crack.

“Ace?” you called, stepping inside.

The apartment was lit only in a soft, dim light, the only source a string of flickering Christmas lights wrapped around a tiny tree in the corner.

At first, you didn’t see him, but then your eyes found him—sitting by the window, his back to you, staring out into the snowy night. He didn’t even acknowledge your presence at first.

You swallowed, feeling the familiar flutter of nerves crawling up your spine, but you knew this was something that couldn’t be left unsaid. Not anymore.

“Ace,” you said again, stepping closer. “We need to talk.”

He didn’t move, but his voice—low and heavy with exhaustion—came out before you could continue. “Thought you might show up.” His tone wasn’t angry anymore. It was just… resigned.

“You should’ve waited until the end of that phone conversation. Or at least hear me out later.”

That finally caught his attention. He turned his head slowly, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

But instead of answering him, you asked, “When we talked the first day, you said that missing familiarity was partly the reason for you to come back. What was the other reason?”

Silence.

“Ace,” you pressed gently.

“You,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I missed you, and I was hoping you would come back too.”

“Then why didn’t you just call or text—”

“When I got here, your dad kept talking about how good you felt in the city, and I knew there were better guys there for you than me. And I was right…”

You exhaled, the weight of his words pressing against your chest, but you forced your body to relax. You stepped back, crossing your arms, your heart beating faster. “I turned him down. The guy? I turned him down. I’m not interested in going back to the city with him. I don’t want that.”

Your heart beat a little faster as you met his gaze. You didn't plan on saying this, not like this. But now that the words were coming, you couldn’t stop them.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t want perfect, Ace. I have no idea why you ingrained that thought in your brain. I don’t want someone who has it all figured out. I want something that feels real, something that feels safe and comfortable. Something I can count on.”

Ace’s eyes flickered with confusion, but you could see the shift, the moment the words started to sink in. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the final part.

“And what I want…” Your voice softened. “What I want is you.”

“You want me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was full of disbelief.

“Yeah.”

Before he could say anything else, you stepped forward, closing the space between you in an instant. Your hands found their place at the back of his neck, pulling him into you as you kissed him—soft, slow, but certain. This time, there was no hesitation.

And at that moment, you realized you didn’t need anything else. You weren’t looking for perfect. You were looking for this—this moment, this connection, this person who had always been there, waiting for you to see what was right in front of you.

#onepiece #one piece fic #ace d portgas #ace x reader #ace one piece #ace portgas #ficmas 2024

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