#it's been a month and i thought it might help to say something

[mountttmase]

All That Matters

Note - merry (early) Christmas everyone 🩷 I’ve missed writing dad Mase and he’s just the most precious Christmas angel in this one. I hope you like it and feedback would be very much appreciated 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 6.4k

Warnings - fluff and smut

‘What’s that pout for, pretty girl?’ Mason asked as he snaked his arm around your waist. His lips pressing the most gentle kiss to your temple but you just shrugged and pursed your lips.

‘Dunno I just feel a bit meh’ you told him. Feeling a little guilty that you were ruining today a little with your mood but thankfully Mason was the only one to pick up on it and you were hoping it would stay that way.

Christmas was usually your favourite time of year. You just loved all of it and since you’d had the kids, it had only made it more special. You loved decorating the house, cooking for everyone and picking out presents that you knew the special people in your life would love more than anything and the fact Mason was also big on Christmas made it even more fun. A chance for you both to reflect on another year of your lives you’d spent together, learning and loving the other one just like always but there was something about this year where you just couldn’t get into the spirit like usual.

Right now you should have been in your element. You were at your favourite garden centre, surrounded by beautiful twinkling lights as the smell of hot chocolate and sweet treats floated through the air, all whilst the kids got more and more excited about what they were about to do. Discussing with each other their Christmas lists and what they wanted to say to the big man himself but you were more focused on the little boy who was strapped to your chest and looking up at you adorably. His tiny cheeky smile was so much like Mason’s and everytime he directed it your way you felt a wave of happiness and love flood you.

‘Well you better turn that frown upside down before Santa sees it. He might ask you to sit on his knee so he can cheer you up and I won’t be having that’ Mason suddenly butted in, his words making you roll your eyes but you knew he was only trying to make you smile and you could feel the corners of your mouth turning up automatically.

‘Will you stop it’

‘Sorry baby’ he laughed. Pulling you into his side so he could drop a kiss on your head but even his affections went making you feel much better this time. ‘Tell me what’s up’

‘It’s just…’ you trailed off. Not knowing how to vocalise your thoughts anymore just in case you sounded silly but Mason being Mason could read you and when he tipped your chin up so you could look at each other you felt a little weight lifted.

‘What baby?’

‘This is Ryley’s first time seeing Santa right?’ You started. Watching Mason's confused face as he listened on but you knew he was really trying for you.

‘Yeah?’

‘So how many more of his firsts are we gonna blitz our way through in the next month?’ You asked him but he still looked a little bewildered and confused. ‘This is the last time we’ll ever take our baby to meet Santa for the first time. The last time we’ll get to buy one of the kids a my first Christmas jumper or buy them a special bauble for the tree. I just can’t believe we’ve got here like life is going way too quickly for me’

‘Oh sweetheart’ he pouted, squeezing your side to let you know it was okay and he understood but that didn’t mean you still weren’t going to be moody about it. The pair of you had decided that once Ryley was born then that would be it for your family, no more babies so you weren’t struggling and were able to give the ones you have all the love in the world. You were most definitely still on board with your decision but as you made your way through all of Ryley’s firsts it hit you they were also your lasts.

‘Doesn’t help Ollie is basically an old man at this point and probably won’t even believe in Santa next year. Like when did he get so big?’ You asked, eyes filling with tears that you tried to sniff away but Mason knew you were upset and the sad smile on his face didn’t do much to help you feel any better.

‘You forget my love, Tilly is absolutely mental and will probably still believe in him until she’s 15 just to spite everyone else’ he whispered. Kissing your cheek as he stroked the back of Ryley’s head softly. ‘And this munchkin, well he’s basically fresh from the womb. We’ve got loads of time left with him’

‘Mason he's one in two months’

‘Who’s next?’ you suddenly heard. Looking up to see a younger girl dressed as an elf smiling at the five of you widely and you knew you had to pep yourself up a bit. Placing a hand each on Ollie and Tilly’s shoulder to push them forward a bit as you could tell they were a little apprehensive.

‘That's us guys, come on don’t be nervous. You’ve been waiting all year to see the big man’ you reassured them and your heart almost broke when Tilly reached up to hold Ollie’s hand to ease her nerves.

Ollie let Tilly speak to Santa first, the pair of them getting over their nerves a little bit and you listened intently as to what she was asking for so you could make a mental note as to what you needed to get. Doing the exact same with Ollie but just as you’d expected his list was just full of books and comics.

‘Who’s the little one then?’ Santa asked as soon as Ollie was done and you smiled as you began to undo the straps on your papoose to get him out but before you could speak Tilly was telling Santa who he was about to meet.

‘That's my baby Ryley’ she told him, making Santa laugh as you sat him on Santa's knee but you made sure you stayed close just in case he got scared. Thankfully for you Ryley was fine and seemed more curious about him than anything else. Wanting to reach out and touch his beard as he showed Santa his new trick of poking his tongue out, something you figured Tilly had taught him, so you took it upon yourself to speak on his behalf.

When it was time to go, just after you’d all had your picture taken with the main man, Santa let the kids pick a little present out from his bag. Ollie grabbed one for Ryley too but Tilly was straight over to Mason as she figured something was wrong.

‘Daddy, are you gonna sit on Santa's knee and tell him what you want?’ She asked and you nearly dropped Ryley as you tried to put him back in the papoose as you were laughing and wondering how he was going to works his way out of this one

‘Nah it’s okay baby, I’ve uh… I’ve emailed him mine and mummy’s list already’ he told her as he looked to Santa for some back up and thankfully he caught on.

‘That's true’ Santa smiled. ‘I had a look at it this morning’

‘Come on then, say thank you to Santa’ Mason smiled. Picking Tilly up and popping her on his hip as he guided Ollie out and back to the main shop. You’d promised them you’d get them a treat on the way out so you made a stop in the food hall for a gingerbread man iced to look like Santa for the two older ones before popping everyone back in the car. Passing Ryley a biscuit you’d already packed for him as gingerbread was a bit tough for him and he smiled back at you widely before tucking in.

It wasn’t a long drive home, but Mason had his hand in yours the whole time as he softly sung along to the Christmas songs on the radio. Normally you would be singing along with him but you didn’t feel like it today. Your eyes flickering in between the view outside and your mirror so that you could check up on Ryley but he was conked out already. His little chubby fingers wrapped around Tilly’s as she munched on her biscuit with her free hand and the whole scene made your heart thump in your chest.

When you got home you got Ryley in as carefully as you could so he’d stay asleep and popped him in his room for a nap. The house was unusually quiet and when you were done with Ryley so you went in search of Mason who was laid on the sofa with the tv on quietly and Nala curled up curled up at his feet.

‘Where are the others?’

‘Ollie’s reading and Tilly’s just over there’ Mason told you quietly. Nodding over to the other sofa opposite where Tilly was also fast asleep with a blanket thrown over her little body.

‘Why is she over there?’ You laughed, walking over to Mason who was holding his arms out for you and even though you knew what would happen if you laid down with him, you still went with it. Needing his comfort more than anything as you were feeling so fragile.

‘Cause she’s like a little ball of fire when she sleeps and anyway I wanted us to talk without waking her up’

‘What about?’ You asked. Trying to play dumb but just frowned at you as you nuzzled into his neck, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time that day.

‘You feeling any better?’ He asked, lips on your forehead as he stroked your back softly. You loved the way he cared so much and was so concerned about you but you still felt a bit silly and unsure as to how to vocalise your feelings.

‘A little bit’

‘You expect me to believe that?’ He whispered and you couldn’t help but giggle. No matter how much you tried to hide anything from Mason it never worked so you did your best to explain what was going on inside your head and he listened along intently. Never making you feel silly or stupid about your feelings no matter how insane you thought you sounded.

It was just a lot and you felt responsible for all of Christmas. That wasn’t because Mason didn’t help, there was only so much he could do with his busy schedule and you knew anytime you did need help he’d be there but you wanted to make sure everyone had a good time. That on top of trying to make Ryleys first Christmas a memorable one was causing everything to crumble around you.

‘Do you remember your first Christmas?’ He asked after you were done ranting. Stroking your jaw gently as he looked at you but as much as you tried to think your mind was blank.

‘No’

‘I don’t remember mine either, pretty sure Ollie doesn’t and Tilly doesn’t remember what happened yesterday half the time’ he joked making you chuckle as you nuzzled into him. You knew he was right, there was no need to be so stressed as Ryley was still so little and wouldn’t remember it anyway but you still wanted to make it a special time for everyone no matter how down you were feeling.

You had to stop talking eventually when Tilly woke up and saw the pair of you having a cuddle without her. To say she wasn’t best pleased was an understatement and you tried to hold in your giggles as she sleepily stomped over to you and demanded to join. Mason was right though, she felt like a human radiator and you could feel yourself overheating but you didnt move. Now Ryley was here it wasn’t often you got time like this with just your baby girl so you held her just as tight as Mason was holding the both of you.

As the weeks flew by, you made it through all of Ryley’s firsts just like you thought you would. Finding the perfect my first Christmas jumper for him, letting him choose his special bauble for the tree by holding two up and getting him the one he reached for. You’d taken him Christmas shopping which was so busy and hectic you’d vowed to do the rest online but you had managed to pick him up his first stocking with a big R embroidered on the front.

Shopping online was pretty easy in the end and you managed to get most things without needing to go to an actual shop. It was a week before Christmas though when you were double checking everyone’s lists and you knew you were missing something.

It wasn’t something Tilly had written down on her list to send to Santa but something she’d asked for when she’d seen him. Telling you later on that day that she’d done that to see if he was actually listening and would bring for her and now you felt like you were about to ruin the idea of Santa for her forever.

It was a singing Olaf toy from Frozen. The new it toy apparently and everywhere you looked it was sold out. All the big toy stores, the little ones too and even the independent ones near you said they would be out until the new year and you cursed yourself for not remembering and getting it sooner. It was just another thing that had fallen to the back of the queue after everything else that had occupied your brain and when you told Mason later that night he told you not to worry and to leave it with him to fix. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that but you trusted him and left him to it.

Next on the list of forgotten things was the Christmas food shop, remembering the next night that you should probably get it all in the basket and checked out before it was too late and once Mason was putting all the to kids bed you sat in the kitchen and got to work.

‘You okay in here gorgeous?’ You heard, looking up to see Mason had popped his head around the doorway and you sent him a soft smile. ‘Kids are all in bed’

‘Thanks baby’ you uttered. Rubbing the heels of your hands into your eyes to try and wipe away some of the tiredness you felt but before long you felt Mason's hands on your shoulders as he tried to work out some of the knots that had formed.

‘You alright?’ He whispered. Dropping a kiss to your head as his fingers worked their magic and you had to stop yourself from groaning in pleasure.

‘I’m okay, just doing the Christmas food shop and trying not to forget anything’ you chuckled. Pulling out the chair next to you so he could take a seat as you talked him through everything you’d picked and thankfully you had everything. You had both agreed you’d do it online this year as there wasn’t much time to go to the shops and the thought of trying to get everything with the kids in tow filled you with nightmares. Thankfully they said they had slots available at such short notice and once Mason had gone through everything you only had to add in a few extra bits that he wanted. When you came to check out you though you felt deflated once more and Mason was eyeing you curiosity. ‘I don’t believe it, there’s no good bloody slots available. 4pm on Christmas Eve is the last one’

‘That’s okay baby, it’ll still get here on time’ he reassured you. Kissing your temple softly as he could see you were getting stressed again and with a big huff you paid for your order even with the delayed delivery as you didn’t really have any other options.

‘Sorry I feel so unorganised this year, feels like it’s all going wrong’ you laughed as you shut the laptop down. Mason was pulling you into his chest immediately after though and you felt yourself relax in his embrace.

‘Don’t worry, it’s fine. Nothing will go wrong as long as we’re all together, yeah?’ He reassured you and even though you nodded you couldn’t say you were completely agreeing with him right now. ‘Can I help with anything? Maybe I could start on some wrapping?’

‘It’s late Mase, don’t you wanna go to sleep?’

‘Nah, let’s blast some of this out and then we can head up. We’ll feel better when we’ve got a bit done’ he reassured you and you spent the next half an hour wrapping up a big chunk of presents so you made sure to give Mason a big kiss to say thank you as knowing that part was taken care of had lightened your load a little bit.

It was 4pm on the dot on Christmas Eve when the food shop turned up. Not exactly the best time but you left the kids and Nala in the living room with a movie on and some snacks whilst you and Mason got to work bringing it in but Mason got stuck talking to the driver who turned out to be a United fan in the end so you got started putting everything away.

You knew something was wrong as soon as you started unpacking the bags. Some of the stuff was what you’d ordered yet a few things weren’t and when you got to the most important part you could have torn your hair out.

‘Sorry love, thought I’d do my good deed and have a chat with him. You getting on alright?’ he laughed as he walked into the kitchen but you were facing away from him so he couldn’t see how upset you were at first. It only took a small, barely audible sniff from you to grab his attention and within a nanosecond he was crossing the kitchen and gently cupping your jaw to look at you. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

‘It’s all wrong, they’ve swapped a load of stuff out and we haven’t got half the things I need’ you gulped. Tears slowly falling down your cheeks as everything finally got the better of you. This Christmas had been overwhelming to say the least but you’d tried to put on a brave face through it all. This was the straw that broke the camel's back though and as Mason pulled you into his chest you sobbed as quietly as you could.

‘Come on baby, surely it’s not that bad’ he told you lightly. Swaying you from side to side as he kissed your head but in your mind this was a disaster. ‘Sit up here and tell me what’s wrong’ he told you, pulling away so he could pop you up on the island counter and once he was settled in between your legs you began to list everything off.

‘They’ve sent the wrong stuffing mix, that dessert you wanted they’ve swapped for something completely different, all the veg looks weird and they’ve sent us millions of potatoes’

‘That doesn’t sound so bad, I’m not really meant to have too many sweets so maybe it’s a blessing in disguise’

‘We don’t have a turkey’ you pouted. Your eyes welling up again as both looked over to the big plastic wrapped bird sat a few feet away from you on the counter and a questioning look settled over Masons features.

‘What’s that then?’

‘It’s just a really big chicken’ you sobbed. Hands covering your face as you began to cry even harder than before and you knew that you looked completely ridiculous crying over a chicken. Mason pulling you back to his chest and you could feel him trying to hold in the laughs as he rubbed your back.

‘Baby come on, you’re alright’ he whispered but unfortunately his words did nothing to calm you like they normally did and you carried on sobbing until he pulled away and held your jaw so he could wipe your eyes. ‘Hey hey hey, look at me’ he whispered. ‘I couldn’t care if it was a turkey or a flying fucking pig okay? As long as tomorrow I’m sitting round the table with you and the kids, that’s all that matters yeah? Christmas is about being together not what’s on our plates’ he told you with a smile and you knew he thought you were completely ridiculous.

‘I just feel like a rubbish mum’ you sniffed and the look of hurt that flashed across his face made your heart hurt.

‘Please don’t say that he pouted. ‘You’re the best mummy in the world I promise. You’ve worked so hard for all of this for us and you know me and the kids appreciate everything’ he reassured you before a tiny smile tugged at his lips again. ‘You know what? I hate turkey, It’s dry as fuck. As for the kids, I don’t think they’ll even realise okay? You don’t have to get upset about it’

‘Are you sure?’ you sniffed. His words lifting you slightly when he nodded back at you. ‘I knew I should have got one the other day. It’s too late to go and get anything now and they’ll be sold out anyway’

‘Right well let’s sort this all out and make a plan, yeah?’ He smiled. Tapping your thigh before popping a sweet kiss to your lips and you couldn't believe how lucky you were to have him.

It didn’t take that long for you to work everything out. Going through the list of the swaps and whilst it was inconvenient, Mason made you see things would just have to be a little different this year and that it was fine. That maybe some of them could be new traditions for your family and that you still had all the main bits you were just making this year more memorable with a few changes.

‘I’m sorry for getting so upset’ you sighed once everything was away and you had more of a plan for tomorrow. Wrapping your arm around his waist before he pulled you into a cuddle and the warmth of his body relaxed you like nothing else.

‘You’re upset because you care and that’s exactly what I love about you, okay?’ He told you softly. Kissing the top of your head as he stroked up and down your back. ‘Now come on, we can catch the rest of the film before we put the kids to bed’

Even after you told them all they had to to have an early night and that Santa would only come if they were asleep you could tell it wasn’t going to be an easy night for you. The eldest two were excited beyond belief and even though Ryley was so small it was like he could feel the change in the air and was just happy to join in. Crawling around on the floor with Nala so he could follow Ollie who was pretending to run away slowly and all three of them found it hilarious. Tilly in hysterics as she giggled away but little did you know it would be Mason that would make it all worse. Tickling her tummy until she was laughing through her tears and you knew it was about to be a long night.

It was chaos, but you loved your little family so much and it made your heart happy to see how excited everyone was and how the kids were none the wiser to your mixed up emotions this year. There was so much love in this room and you couldn't take your eyes off of Mason as all the kids piled in on him. He was right, just like usual, and as long as you were all together tomorrow then you’d be fine.

You managed to regain a little bit of control when you told them it was time to put snacks out for Santa. Mason telling them they should put a brownie and a hot chocolate out instead as he bet Santa was sick of mince pies and milk but you knew it was just because he didn’t want another one and would prefer something chocolatey. Ollie wouldn’t have it though and told him that he wasn’t risking Santa not stopping by because they’d put the wrong snacks out and you made a deal that you’d eat the mince pie if he drunk the milk and took a bite out of the carrot.

Once you knew they were all asleep you got to work arranging all the gifts in their own little sections before placing some under the tree. You could tell you were both exhausted though so you did what you could before traipsing back upstairs and collapsing into bed. Not bothering to set an alarm as you knew the kids would be waking you up early anyway but to your surprise it was Mason that woke you up before anyone else. His hands lightly massaging your waist as he kissed your neck from behind and you were hoping he might let you have a little bit of well needed stress relief after the last few weeks.

‘Merry Christmas, beautiful’ he whispered into your neck. The sound making your skin tingle as you could tell my the tone of it that he was after the same thing you were craving.

‘Merry Christmas, Mase’

‘If my calculations are correct, we’ve got about 15 minutes before the kids come looking for us’ he whispered lowly and the sound made you shiver.

‘Oh really?’

‘Mhmmm. You gonna let me give you an early gift?’ He whispered and if you weren’t so turned on you would have found it strange how you were so in tune with each other. That didn’t mean you couldn’t tease him a little bit though.

‘I’m not sure, Mase. Have we got time?’ You asked innocently whilst rubbing your behind all over his lap and you knew you were having the desired effect as he gripped your waist tightly.

‘Don’t doubt me’ he whispered, a smile evident in his voice. ‘Just stay there baby, let me take care of you’ he told you but you felt his warmth leave you almost immediately. Hearing him moving around behind you but when you saw his boxers fly over the top of you and drop to the floor you knew what he’d done. Giggling as you felt his body heat return and when his lips touched your neck you moaned quietly.

Even though Mason had gone to the effort of undressing himself, clearly he was too impatient to wait until you were also undressed because you felt his fingers push your shorts down slightly and your underwear to the side shortly after. His fingers dragging up and down you deliciously until he popped them in his mouth and got back to work.

As much as you loved it when he was teasing you like this, you also knew you didn’t have that much time and you wanted to feel him properly so you started to buck your hips back into him a little more in hopes he’d get the message and thankfully he did. Feeling him shuffle a bit after a second or two before gripping himself and guiding his way inside you as carefully as he could.

You felt yourself melt into the sheets as soon as he was inside of you. Feeling him drag in and out of you deliciously as the familiar thickness of him made you shiver once more. No matter how many times you were in this position it felt better than the last but you knew where you were and the possibility that little ears might be able to hear you soon so you covered your mouth and did your best to keep quiet.

‘Don’t be shy baby, I wanna hear you’ Mason murmured in your ear. His voice strained as he lost himself in you and clearly you had to remind him why you couldn’t let loose.

‘’Remember where we are’ you chuckled, feeling him sigh into your neck before he began to pull out but within a flash he’d pulled you onto your back and was pushing inside you again. His lips on yours to silence any moans the pair of you were making and as much as you were in your element you could tell he was holding back a bit now. ‘Masey, please’

‘What is it, baby?’

‘M-more please’ you breathed. Wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close and the little chuckle that fell from his lips excited you.

You werent went quite sure what he was doing, but he moved all of his weight over to one side so he could lean on one arm. His free hand now moving its way up your body until he reached your neck and the slight squeeze made you groan in delight as his hips began to snap back and forth quicker.

‘That’s it, that what you wanted?’ He cooed in your ear. The soft sound of his voice a stark contrast to how he was treating you right now but you couldn’t get enough. You loved it when he was a little rough with you like this and you could feel your thighs tingle in pleasure.

‘Mhmmm’ you moaned, letting him capture your lips once more to silence you.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he breathed into your mouth and before you knew it, it was getting too much for him. Ducking his head into your neck as you threaded your fingers through his hair so you could pull on it slightly just how he liked.

It was the wet kisses he was pressing into your neck that finally tipped you over the edge. Moaning into his shoulder as he quickened his pace but he was finished just after you and the little giggle that left his lips warmed your heart.

You’d barely caught your breath before you heard the footsteps running down the hall and Mason stiffened in your arms. Immediately knowing he was completely bare under the covers and if Tilly was up to her usual then this wouldn’t end well.

‘Fuck, what am I gonna-‘

‘Just lay down it’s fine’ you giggled as Tilly burst into your room. Running straight over and into your arms and you tried to hold in your laughs at how awkward Mason was being but it was hard when Tilly was so excited.

‘Santas been!’

‘Has he?’ You beamed, watching her excitedly roll off the bed so she could run over to Mason behind you but before she could, she managed to pick up Mason's discarded underwear off the floor and pop them on her head like a hat. Clearly too overcome with excitement to even think about what she was doing but Mason was mortified as he watched her run around your room in the black Calvin’s he was previously wearing not too long ago.

‘Tilly baby’ you giggled, jumping up so you could take them off of her head before flinging them back to Mason and he caught them before stuffing them under the covers. ‘How about we go and get Ollie so we can see what Santa left us and daddy can go and wake Ryley up?’ You told her. Taking her hand and walking her out of your room as you shot Mason a look over your shoulder, just in time to watch him blowing you a kiss.

Ollie was already awake which made things easier and you were only waiting for a few minutes for Mason and Ryley to make an appearance. Ryley still sleeping soundly by the looks of things as his little face was nuzzled into Masons neck so they both sat in the arm chair and you all let Ryley wake up a little bit more. Nala coming to join you moments later and she seemed confused as to why you were all up and awake but she sat herself by Mason and watched what was going on intently.

The eldest two were chomping at the bit to get started so you let them go. Helping them pick the right presents for the right person and clearing up slightly after them as they went but you loved watching them get excited with each new gift and the noise had Ryley interested so Mason came to join you with him for a bit so he could get involved.

The kids were most of the way through the presents and you knew Mason hadn’t been able to get the toy Tilly so desperately wanted. She was clearly excited and happy about everything she’d received but you knew she was looking for it and with each present opened her hope was waning.

Mason told you he’d sorted it and you didn’t know if he was hiding it somewhere for an extra special surprise but when you gave him a nervous glance he just winked at you before searching under the tree.

‘Oh wow, Tilly have you seen this?’ Mason asked as he sat back up and when you looked over he was holding a thick white envelope with her name perfectly inscribed on the front. ‘What does that say baby?’

‘Tilly’ she smiled, pointing at herself as it was one of the few words she could read and Mason nodded at her proudly.

‘That's right, it’s for you’ he told her, passing it over. ‘Why don’t you open it and maybe mummy will read it to you?’

You watched her scurry over. Passing you the official looking envelope that you quickly tore into quickly before opening up a typed up letter on some Santa stationery and you sat her on your knee so you could read it together.

‘Oh wow Tilly, a letter from the big man himself?’ Mason smiled and you knew she was beaming back at him. ‘Thats huge’

‘Santa mummy’ she squeaked. Your heart melting at the effort Mason had gone to to keep his little girl happy.

‘I know baby. That’s nice of him isn’t it, and you can wait can’t you?’

‘I can wait’ she nodded, holding her letter like it was the most important thing she’s ever received.

‘Good girl’

‘Ollie look’ she shouted. Jumping down from next to you so she could show him her letter and he seemed impressed by what he was seeing.

Mason was coming over to sit with you soon after with Ryley cradled in his arms and a few unopened gifts for you to open with him. Letting Ryley tear the paper as best as he could after you’d started him off to reveal a few new soft toys and some things to chew on but soon enough Ollie needed help trying to set up a new game he’d been gifted. Mason handed Ryley over so you could cuddle up together and give him his morning feed in peace, knowing you needed a few moments alone with your boy before the chaos of the day took over. Mason also hadn't gotten involved too much this morning as he sat with Ryley and you knew he wanted to spend some time playing with the kids.

‘Merry Christmas little man’ you whispered. Stroking his head gently as he looked up at you and you felt so full of love you wanted to squish him. His little hand stroking Nala next to him and you knew it was a comfort thing to have her close by when he was having a feed. ‘You probably won’t remember any of this but it’s all a little messed up this year. I’ll make sure it’s all fixed for next year though, and you can join in a little bit more, yeah?’ You told him. Hoping he understood what you meant somehow but even if he didn’t you were still excited for what the day held.

One of the big gifts you’d bought Ryley was a walker and whilst the kids were occupied with looking at their gifts, Mason put it together as you made the pair of you a coffee. Popping him in it after it was done so he could get a feel for it and soon enough he was walking around and crashing into everything. Your bright idea now seeming like a nightmare as he tried to run from room to room and bounce off the walls but Mason thought it was hilarious and was following after him to try and record Ryley on his little rampage.

‘Thank you, Mase’ you told him as he came into the kitchen to get his coffee you’d made him but he stopped in his tracks at your words.

‘What for?’ He asked curiously. Placing his hands around your waist as he pulled you to his body and you couldn’t resist reaching up and kissing him softly. This morning had been crazy but it was the first time in a while you hadn’t felt so rubbish about everything and you knew it was him you had to thank for that.

‘For talking me down everytime I’ve wanted to have a hissy fit these last months’ you smiled. ‘And for reminding me that Christmas is about us just being together’

‘I’ll tell you everyday if you need me to, you know that right?’ He whispered, pecking your lips softly once more. ‘I mean it, everything that’s good about our family comes from you and I’d never want you to think what you do for us isn’t good enough when my life with you is more than I could have ever asked for’

‘Masey’ you pouted. Your eyes filling up for a whole different reason and when he softly placed a kiss on your nose you couldn’t help but let them spill over.

‘Hey, no tears on Christmas’ he winked, wiping your cheeks. ‘I mean it though, you’re the best mum and wife and friend I could have ever asked for and we love you so much’

‘I love you too’

‘Are you ready to see what Santa got you now the kids have had their gifts?’ He asked, hoping a change of subject would cheer you up a bit and it worked as you were itching to see what gift he’d pulled out of the bag for you this year.

‘Yes please’ you giggled. Letting him take you hand and walk you back into the chaos that was Christmas morning in the Mount household.

[buzzinrusso]

second chances?

Where ex lovers run into eachother.

Word count : 3k

The snow falls softly, dusting the cobblestone streets and clinging to rooftops like powdered sugar. Christmas lights twinkle above the market stalls, casting warm glows on the festive scene below. The air smells of pine, roasted chestnuts, and cinnamon, and everything feels like it’s straight out of a holiday movie—a perfect postcard moment.

But for you,it’s not perfect. Not anymore.

You pull your scarf tighter around your neck, the chill creeping into your bones. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t come here today, but something in you—something stubborn and nostalgic—had drawn you back. The market was always your favorite part of Christmas, and for a long time, it was something you shared with Lena. The two of you used to come every year, hand in hand, sipping mulled cider and picking out ornaments that you never really needed but bought anyway.

You shake your head, forcing yourself to focus on the present, to stop the memories from swallowing you whole.

It’s been months since Lena left.

Months since she walked away from you and everything you thought you had.

And now, standing in the middle of the busy market, you realize just how badly you’ve been pretending to be okay. You should’ve stayed home, away from this place, away from the past. But you didn’t. The weight of the memories is heavy on your chest, and you feel like you might break under its pressure.

And then you see her.

You freeze. For a moment, you’re sure it’s a trick of the light. But no—there she is, standing a few feet away, bundled in a dark coat and scarf, looking exactly the same and somehow completely different. Her hair peeks out from beneath the knitted hat, and her eyes meet yours before she blinks, like she’s not sure she’s seeing you either.

Your heart jumps in your chest. You want to walk away. You want to turn around and pretend this isn’t happening. But you can’t move.

Her gaze softens, and she steps forward hesitantly, like she’s testing the waters. Her eyes are wide, filled with something you can’t quite place.

“y/n?” she says, her voice thick with disbelief.

The way she says your name, it breaks something inside of you. You thought you were done. You thought you’d buried it all, that the past was something you could leave behind. But here she is, standing right in front of you, and everything inside you shifts. It’s as if time hasn’t passed at all. The ache in your chest feels as fresh as the moment she left.

“Lena.” The word slips from your lips before you can stop it.

You see her flinch, just for a second, and you hate how it makes you feel. It’s not supposed to matter anymore. She’s the one who left, after all. But still, you can’t help the rush of emotions that hit you all at once. Anger, sadness, relief, longing.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, trying to keep your voice steady, but it cracks. You hate how fragile it sounds.

“Just… looking,” Lena replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” you ask, the words leaving your mouth sharper than you intended. You can’t seem to help it. You’re still angry, still so deeply hurt.

Lena looks down, rubbing her hands together, and the silence between you stretches. It’s thick and heavy, like you’re both too scared to say the wrong thing.

You almost turn away. Almost. But then, she looks up at you again, her eyes searching yours like she’s trying to find the right words.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” Lena says, her voice small.

“Me neither,” you mutter, shifting on your feet. You try to move away, but she steps closer, and something inside you tightens.

“I… I should go,” Lena says suddenly, stepping back like she’s afraid you’ll push her away.

And for a moment, you almost want to. But then something else rises up in you, something too tired to ignore. It’s been so long. You’ve spent so many nights missing her, hating her, hoping that she might come back. And here she is.

“Wait,” you say, before you can stop yourself.

She freezes, her hand hovering in midair. She’s looking at you again, searching for something in your eyes. The moment hangs between you, fragile and uncertain.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice faltering. “Just… wait.”

Lena hesitates, looking torn. You know you’ve hurt her—left her when she needed you most. But you can’t stop the words from spilling out, can’t stop the part of you that still wants her.

Finally, she nods, and you both walk to a nearby bench. It’s tucked away from the bustling market, quieter here, but it doesn’t feel peaceful. It feels like the calm before a storm. You sit beside her, close but not touching, like you’re both too afraid to cross the invisible line between you.

“So..."lena says softly, after a long silence. Her voice is shaky, unsure, and it kills you to hear it like that.

You swallow, trying to steady yourself. It’s not easy. You don’t know how to start, don’t know how to face the mess you’ve both made.

“I’m sorry,” Lena says, her voice breaking just slightly.

You blink, surprised. “That’s it?” you ask, your voice sharper than you intend.

She flinches, and your chest tightens at the sight. You didn’t mean to hurt her again. But you can’t help it. You’ve been carrying the weight of her leaving for so long that it feels like it might crush you if you don’t say something.

“No,” she says quickly. “No, it’s not. I just—” She runs a hand through her hair, like she’s trying to find the right words, but they’re tangled up in the same mess of emotions that you’re both holding onto. “I don’t know where to start.”

You nod, your lips pressing into a thin line. “Maybe start with why you left.”

Lena’s face falls. You see the flicker of pain in her eyes, and it cuts you deeper than you expect. She takes a deep breath, and for a moment, you think she might not say anything. But then, finally, her voice comes, quiet and broken.

“Because I was scared,” she admits, and it’s as though all the air leaves the space between you. “I was scared of losing you, of how much I loved you.”

You don’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t the only one who was scared. You were too. You still are.

“I thought I was going to ruin everything,” Lena continues, her voice thick with emotion. “And I couldn’t live with the idea of you waking up one day and realizing I wasn’t enough for you.” She pauses, her gaze dropping to the ground. “So I ran. I left before you could leave me.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of all the things that were left unsaid. You can feel the anger rising again, but it’s not just anger anymore. It’s hurt. It’s betrayal. It’s all the years of being afraid to love her because you weren’t sure if you could trust her.

You shake your head, your heart pounding in your chest. “But you didn’t have to run, Lena,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. “You could’ve stayed. You could’ve fought for us.”

“I know,” she replies, her voice tight. “And I hate myself for it. But I was so afraid. And now… now I can’t take it back.”

You stare at her, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. How do you go back after all of this? How do you forgive something like this, when the wound still feels so fresh?

“I know I hurt you,” Lena says softly. “And I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I need you to know that I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.” She looks up at you, and there’s something raw in her gaze. Something vulnerable that makes your heart ache.

You want to scream at her, to tell her that she doesn’t get to just show up and make everything better with a few words. But instead, you say nothing. You just sit there, letting her words sink in, letting the silence hang between you.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” Lena whispers. “But I’ll do anything. Anything to make it right.”

You close your eyes for a moment, letting the weight of her words wash over you. You’ve spent so many months in pain, convincing yourself that you’d be better off without her. But now she’s here, and all the walls you’ve built are starting to crumble.

“Why did you leave?” Lena asks, her voice quieter now. “Why didn’t you stay? Why didn’t you fight for us?” She’s reaching for something—some answer that you don’t know how to give her. And it makes you feel so small.

You want to tell her everything. The fear. The uncertainty. The way you never thought you could be enough for her. But how do you say those things when your heart is still tangled up in the wreckage she left behind?

You may not have left physically,but you certainly left mentally.

And then, with a deep breath, you say, “I was scared too.”

Lena doesn’t say anything. she just looks at you, her eyes wide with something you can’t name. And for the first time in a long time, you feel the possibility of something else—a chance, however fragile, that maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other.

The silence stretches, heavy with the weight of your words. The words you’ve never said before, the truth that’s been buried beneath layers of pride and fear. It feels both freeing and terrifying to admit it out loud.

Lena’s gaze softens, her lips trembling like she’s fighting against something—tears, maybe, or just the overwhelming flood of emotion that’s been building for months. She opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out at first.

“I didn’t know,” she says finally, her voice cracking. “I didn’t know you were scared too.” She looks down at her hands, rubbing them together as if trying to ground herself, trying to make sense of everything that’s happened.

You nod slowly, your eyes tracing the patterns in the snow beneath your boots. "I think I was more scared of being left behind, of never being enough. I couldn’t let myself be that vulnerable with you." The admission feels raw, the truth cutting deeper than you expected.

Lena’s gaze is gentle as she watches you, her own pain evident in the way she’s holding herself. "I thought you’d never love me the way I loved you," she whispers, and there’s an edge to her voice now, one that carries the ache of regret. "I thought I had to leave before you realized I was too broken for you."

The cold bite of the winter air seems to grow more pronounced as you sit there, in the space between you two, the distance once again palpable. But this time, it's not about rejection—it's about understanding, raw and real, in a way you’ve never experienced.

"Do you ever think about what we could have had?" Lena asks softly, her voice quiet but steady.

It’s a question that leaves you still, leaves you breathless. Do you ever think about it? Of course you do. You think about it every day—about the Christmases you spent together, about the laughter you shared, the soft moments when it felt like you were a part of each other. It was the kind of love that seemed invincible, until it wasn’t.

"I think about it every day," you answer honestly, the words slipping past your lips without hesitation. "But I also think about how much it hurt when you left. How you didn’t even try to fight for us. How it felt like you gave up."

You can’t stop yourself now. You’ve held it in for so long, and now it all comes pouring out—your fears, your pain, your loneliness. "You left me, Lena. You didn’t even look back. And that hurt more than anything."

Her breath hitches, and for a moment, it looks like she’s about to break. But she doesn’t. Instead, she looks at you with such sincerity in her eyes that it almost knocks the wind out of you.

"I didn’t leave because I didn’t care about you," she says softly, her voice low and trembling. "I left because I loved you so much that I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. I thought leaving was the only way to protect us both."

The way she says it—so fragile, so raw—hits you harder than anything she’s said so far. You thought you were done with her, that you could move on. But as much as you want to stay angry, as much as you want to keep the distance between you, a part of you still feels the pull. That old connection, the one you buried beneath all the hurt, begins to resurface.

You take a shaky breath, the words threatening to tumble out before you can stop them. "I never wanted you to leave, Lena. I just… I didn’t know how to stay in something that felt so uncertain. I didn’t know how to fight for us when I was so afraid of losing myself."

Your withdrawal wasn’t out of a lack of love, but from fear—fear of vulnerability, fear of losing yourself, and fear of an uncertain future with Lena.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The snow falls gently around you, blanketing the world in silence. But it’s not the cold that’s suffocating—it’s the weight of everything unsaid between you, the things you’ve both been holding back, the memories that you’re not sure whether to cherish or curse.

Lena reaches out then, her hand trembling as she brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear. It’s a simple gesture, one that used to feel so natural, so effortless. But now it feels like it carries a thousand unspoken words. The moment hangs there, charged with the quiet intensity of everything that has been left unresolved between you.

“I know I hurt you,” Lena says quietly, her voice thick with emotion. “And I don’t know if I can ever make it right. But I need you to know that I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. To prove to you that I’m not running this time.”

You feel the vulnerability in her words, the openness that she’s never shown before. And for the first time in months, something shifts inside you. Maybe it’s the way she looks at you, or maybe it’s the tenderness in her voice that pulls at something deep inside of you. But whatever it is, it cuts through the walls you’ve built.

You close your eyes, letting the feeling wash over you, a storm of emotion breaking over the dam you’ve tried so hard to keep in place. "I don’t know if I can trust you again," you whisper, your voice unsteady. "But I want to. I want to believe that we can fix this."

Lena’s eyes search yours, and she takes a deep breath, her gaze intense. "Then let me show you. Let me prove that I’m here to stay. I’ll do whatever it takes."

You nod slowly, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what comes next. But you can’t bring yourself to pull away. The old hurt is still there, lodged in the deepest parts of you, but the possibility of something new—something real—feels almost too tempting to resist.

For the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to feel something other than pain. You let yourself feel hope.

"Okay," you say softly, your voice barely a whisper. "But I’m not making promises. I need time."

Lena’s lips tremble, and you see the tears she’s been holding back, the weight of her regret and guilt, threatening to spill over. But she doesn’t cry. Instead, she smiles—a small, tentative thing, but it’s enough. It’s more than enough.

"I’ll wait," Lena says softly, and the sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten. "I’ll wait as long as you need."

You don’t know what the future holds. You don’t know if this is the beginning of something new or if it’s just another false hope. But for the first time in a long time, you’re willing to take the risk. Maybe this time, things will be different. Maybe, just maybe, you can find your way back to each other.

And with that thought in mind, you take a deep breath, let it go, and step forward—into the unknown, into the second chance you’ve both been waiting for.

Christmas Day

The morning of Christmas is peaceful, quiet. The snow has stopped falling, and the world is wrapped in a blanket of white. You and Lena sit by the window, sipping your coffee, both of you lost in the moment.

It’s not perfect. It’s not how you imagined things would be. But it’s real. And right now, that’s enough.

Lena reaches for your hand, her fingers trembling slightly, but you don’t pull away. You let her hold you. You let her in.

And as the Christmas bells ring in the distance, you know that, for the first time in a long time, there’s hope for a future you once thought was lost.

-----

HELLOO!! Merry Christmas my loves <33 this is the first part of my Christmas trilogy 🤶 I will admit this is one of the longest fics I've written and it took me like 2 weeks and I kept having chat gpt spell check for mistakes...

[lostintransist]

Chiseled Heart | Part 3

CW: A man being creepy at the gym

AO3 | Part 1

“She gave me a gift card.”

König stares at his boots, arms crossed and shoulders resting against the back of his therapist’s couch.

“I’m not seeing why this makes you so upset.” Rich shifts in his chair across the small room, putting his stylus on the screen of his tablet. “Last time we talked you told me you were worried about a woman you had helped at the gym since she had been hurt and now you’re mad that she gave you a gift card to say thank you for the help?”

Frustrated, König turned to stare out the window. Sometimes squirrels would scamper down the powerline and give him an excuse to avoid trying to find words. He doubted he would find the words for this feeling in any of the languages he knew.

“I am…upset because,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts, “Danke was enough.”

“Do you feel like it’s fair to say you are upset because the exchange of money changed the interaction for you?”

“Ja,” he nodded.

“Okay,” Rich glances at his watch. “Can I give you my thoughts on the matter? I know you’ve been working at understanding others more.”

König narrows his eyes but nods his consent. He had worked with Rich for enough years to trust his opinion.

“You said she told you that she would bring a card the next day you saw each other but insisted after you walked her to her car, right?”

“Ja.”

“Okay, did you consider that she felt like asking for help needed something in return? Walking a woman to her car is a layer of safety, a measure of security that to her must have been a weight off her shoulders. She doesn’t know you well but wants the exchange to be equal. Could it be that she didn’t want to burden you?”

König turns the words over in his mind. You had been so apologetic even ask you asked for his help. The only time König had ever feared for his life had been under the hands of his vater.

“Help is no burden,” he argues, not quite willing to concede the point.

“I don’t imagine that it is, you work hard to be kind. I am saying that from her perspective, help and kindness are not guaranteed. By virtue of being a woman, she is always at a disadvantage and will do what she can to keep herself safe.”

He grunted.

“Sorry König, this might be one of those times to use radical acceptance. You will never understand the fear of existing in a small body where every man is a threat.” Rich shrugged one shoulder.

A moment passes in silence before König reveals the other reason the interaction bothered him so much.

“She has started to appear in my art.”

That got a double eyebrow lift from Rich. It wasn’t often that König caught his therapist by surprise.

“You’re art is how you process a lot of the trauma from serving right? How do you feel that your gym buddy is in your art?”

“Conflicted.”

Rich said nothing, only noting something on his tablet.

The silence compelled him to speak more. Rich knew it and König knew Rich knew it.

“Carving her feels different. Pulling memories from stone reminds me of the sting of pain.”

“How does carving her feel?”

“Freeing.”

Rich studies König. König leans over and picks through the basket of fidgets that sat at the end of the couch.

“Do you want to go into that more or leave it for now?”

König delayed answering until he pulled puddy between his hands.

“Leave it.”

“I’ll make a note to check back on the topic next time we chat then. How is your art selling right now? It’s still on display at the gallery right?”

They drift into more familiar and safe discussions.

There is only five minutes left. He has been watching the clock. There wouldn’t be time to get deep into this.

“Tell me to stop, to stop talking to her.”

Rich’s brows lift with confusion, it is also in the lilting of his voice, “You want me to tell you to stop making a human connection? The goal we’ve been working toward for nearly seven months now?”

König scowled as he shifted on the couch, arms folding across his chest. It sounded stupid when he put it that way.

“It’s okay to be scared König. This is a big step.”

He doesn’t reply, debating how to settle this struggle within himself.

“Did you already schedule your regular appointment with the front desk?” Rich asks, letting the topic drop.

One thing he excelled at carving had always been hands. The intricacies and the expressions that can be found in fingers had fascinated him. It was your hands he pulled from a small chunk of granite. Before he knew they were your hands he had carved a delicate ring on the left hand. The fingers on the left hand curled over the right ones, the piece ending below the right wrist. The pose reminded him of how you held pressure on your bleeding finger those weeks ago.

Frustrated he set it aside to continue on a massive piece. With a view into a building, as wide as he is tall, a house of worship is starting to come together. He carved out the rough shapes of the pillars and dug through the stone to what he had decided to be the back wall. Now came the time-consuming work of removing stone until he could begin to carve the bodies that lay scattered along the floor. This had been one of his worst nightmares. They had been too late.

Music drifted through the space from his built-in speakers. König worked late into the afternoon until Feather, the gallerist, arrived to peruse his recently completed carvings to see which she would like to house and which would be listed on the website or hawked directly to wealthy buyers.

Feather looked like she ran an art gallery. Her bold colors, expensive suits, matching lipstick, and perfectly done hair always set König on edge. Even in her heels, the top of her head reached his elbow. He remained seated as she let herself into his studio.

“Ah! There is my favorite artist. Where are the new pieces for me?” She breezed past him as he stayed seated on his stool. Feather knew where the new pieces would be by now.

Ignoring her, König focused on his carving. He could not work while anyone else existed in his studio but this process of removing stone to access the image didn’t count.

After several minutes Feather appeared in his line of view.

“I want the whole lot, stellar as always my dear.” She spoke with a crispness to her words, as if her job required a level of uppityness.

“Same terms as always,” König fiddles with the edge of his chisel. It needs to be sharpened soon.

“Agreed,” Feather crosses her arms. Her eyes drift over his current work in progress before she turns and points to the hands he had set aside.

“How much for the hands?”

A chill wraps itself around his spine.

“Not for sale.”

A good business woman Feather narrows her eyes at him and throws out a number much higher than they usually agreed upon for smaller pieces. He lifts a brow before shaking his head.

She tried three more offers before sighing and folding her arms dramatically.

“König I know all artists are finicky about their work but I have a patron who has been asking for something like this for a long time. He would pay through the nose if I sent him a photo. He would pay especially well since it is your work.”

“Goodbye Feather,” he pulled the remote from his pocket and increased the volume of the music.

He didn’t create for money. König carved images from stone because if he left them inside they would fester and canker his soul.

Feather got the message and fired off a text to him before leaving of when her team would be by to pick up all the pieces agreed upon and confirmed his payment would be sent via wire after they arrived at the gallery. He marked the messages as read and set all his tools in their home nearly an hour later. Eating a quick meal he readied himself for the gym, and more of you.

His time with KorTac gave him the ability to appear focused while his mind drifts. Sliding through his thoughts König cannot quite decide how to feel about the interactions he has had with you. Bringing you up in therapy hadn’t helped yet.

When the doors move and allow you entry König is shocked at your smile as your eyes find his. He reciprocates the small wave you give him as you head into the changing room. Then curses himself for the niggle of brightness that your smile brought. Continuing his workout König kept you in sight but did not approach. He had been stilted and stiff when you had pressed the gift card into his hands on Wednesday and didn’t know how or if he wanted to try and bridge that gap.

A man approaches you four different times in the span of twenty minutes. When you finally snap at him, anger contorting your face, you point to König. He watches as you stomp away from the man and approach him instead.

Any anger disappeared from your eyes by the time you reached him. You folded your arms tight to your chest and blinked rapidly as if to fight back tears. When you stopped you stood entirely too close for the acquaintances that you were.

“König?”

“Ja?”

“Can you bend down a moment for me?”

He does as requested, not pausing to think that he should not accept orders from you.

“There is a man that is bothering me and I told him you were my boyfriend. Can you pretend until he leaves?”

König can only blink at you before glaring at the man in question. The prick sneers a huff of breath in your direction.

“How does one pretend to be a boyfriend?” He keeps his volume low.

“You could put a hand on my waist or something? I just need him to leave me alone. The reason I like this gym is most of the guys only talk to me when they have a correction or to encourage me to hit a new PR. I don’t want to leave but if he keeps bothering me I am gonna have to go home,” you tighten your folded arms to your chest, clearly upset.

Following the twitch of his muscles König pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head as he lets his killer face stare out at the man who bothered you. The fucker tries to maintain a sneer, but when your arms slip around König’s waist and the hateful glare pummeling him from across the gym becomes too much he man left in a tizzy.

When you pull back from the hug König struggles to return his hands to his sides and not leave them trailing the top of your hip bones. His fingers ache both from the touch and the lack of contact.

You rub a palm under one eye, wiping away the wetness that collected there.

“Thanks, sorry. I had a bad day at work and then the nonsense with a guy being a jerk I might actually call it a night.” You sniff lightly, giving him a watery smile.

“We can work out together if you want?”

König took whatever courage he had found a way to take the reigns and shake it until the bastard had to be dead in his skull.

You rub a thumb beneath your nose, face contemplative.

“That would actually be okay, yeah.”

He blinks at you, unsure why you would say yes. And then unsure of how to make this work.

“I don’t want to disrupt your routine,” you rush to fill the silence that had grown between you, “I can do whatever you are doing today, provided we fix the weights for me.”

Nodding König replies, “Company is welcome, but no offering to pay.”

You tongue at your teeth behind your lips.

König gives a startled laugh. You had labeled the feeling he and his therapist were unable to articulate.

“Okay, you are uncomfortable with thank-you gifts. Got it.”

“Ja, help is given, not bought.”

A beautiful blush stains your cheeks. The sight of your blushing smile sticks like a bur on a sock as he walks you to your car and waves to you as you disappear into the night. The change in color on your face haunts his dreams.

Masterlist | Chiseled Heart Masterlist

@backseatsoldier minor updates from what you read but 😘

[serendipitous-girl]

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

❀ summary: Hyunjin never expected falling in love to be so…peaceful. Like a feather blown in the breeze, slowly and gently settling to the ground. He expected it to be harsh, dramatic, and loud. He expected one day for a brick to plummet in his heart with a You're in love! written in big bold letters.

❀ warnings: long ass story, physical descriptors being used but no name, they could be ooc i am not a skz expert, mentions of other kpop bands & people i have no clue about, almost 5k words 💀

❀ notes: i took multiple months to write this and i might have to separate it into multiple parts bc it is annoyingly long. I dunno if its super good but I wrote it for my bestie who loves hyunjin 😁

Hyunjin never expected falling in love to be so…peaceful. Like a feather blown in the breeze, slowly and gently settling to the ground. He expected it to be harsh, dramatic, and loud. He expected one day for a brick to plummet in his heart with a You're in love! written in big bold letters.

But watching her, with her fluffy purple hair and glittering dark eyes, he couldn't help but picture falling in love like cozying up against a fireplace after a long day playing in the snow. Falling in love with her felt easy. It felt like something he'd known all his life without fully realizing.

It was unfortunate that they seemed to be in entirely different realms. She was an American streamer with funny jokes and a big smile. He was a Korean idol who could barely utter a word lest the public eye shun him. Sure, it had gotten better since JYP had passed his entertainment industry to his much more progressive daughter, but still.

His fingers idly curl around his pencil, light strokes against the thick pad of his sketchbook as he watches her most current stream. She was with her friends, having a simple talk with her fans. It reminded him of the lives he did for his own fans, although he was sure her videos were not as filtered.

“Oh my favorite music? I have really liked K-pop since I was in middle school.” she says, her lips curving into that grin that never failed to send butterflies to his stomach. Of course, this led comments to flood all of them asking about her favorites.

“My favorite when I was in high school was Stray Kids,” She explained, making Hyunjin’s heart lurch in his chest. He set his drawing supplies down, fully turning to look at her as if studying the pixels of the screen might help him understand the real her better.

He caught a glance at the comments, asking who her bias was (something he has shamefully been tempted to do) and sat silently hoping she'd answer the question.

The heavens must have been looking out for him because she said, her voice like a melody made by Apollo, “My bias is Hyunjin though I love them all.”

Was he dreaming? Should he get Felix to pinch him? He shook off his thoughts, trying to clear his mind to make sure he heard you right. You kept talking about how you liked Stray Kids as a teenager, how they helped you through difficult times. Hyunjin struggled to understand the way his heart beat in his chest, the swell of pride in his stomach.

He took a glance at his unfinished sketch, yet another futile attempt at capturing the beauty of you. He could never feel like he got it quite right. He needed it to be perfect. One crafted by the gods must be worshiped, not tolerated.

Hyunjin continued to watch your stream until it ended, although his mind was still focused on that moment. It repeated in his head like a broken record, one that he was grateful had broken. If he was to be stuck in one moment eternally, he would choose that one easily.

As though he had been summoned, Felix bounced into Hyunjin's room. He wore a big smile, ready to poke and prod Hyunjin as if they were blood related brothers. However, the older boy was on a mission, and it could not be interrupted.

“Have you heard of this streamer..?” Hyunjin asked, her name slipping past his lips easily. Felix, as chronically online as he is, nodded that he had. Settling the nerves in his stomach, Hyunjin knew he ought to explain.

And so he did. Multiple times, actually, because Felix decided to involve the entirety of the band. Hyunjin couldn't even be that upset. They were a close-knit family. And he knew they would help him.

….

He was fairly certain that everybody around him was fully and clinically insane but he couldn't bring himself to care in the slightest bit. Somehow, he had managed to get an entire event hosted by JYP, which invited all sorts of streamers….namely her.

Although Hyunjin couldn't guarantee she would show up, he was certainly hoping against all odds. So was the rest of the Stray Kids.

“Hyunjin’s got a crush~” Bangchan teased, wrapping his arm around Hyunjin's neck and bringing him closer so he could ruffle his hair. Hyunjin laughed while he tried to wriggle out of the older boy's hold.

Finally, he got out of his hold, just as Hwa-Young entered. She was dressed as formally as ever, a crisp suit and perfectly styled hair.

“Please treat all our guests with respect and understand that the reason they are here is to advertise JYP Entertainment and the music festival at the end of the weekend.” She explained, letting her eyes travel across the people here. All bands under her company had been gathered to discuss this, making for quite the large display.

Hyunjin listened carefully, knowing that part of the reason was so she would come to South Korea. All expenses paid trip in exchange for her to advertise and spread publicity for JYP. He hoped she would spend time with Stray Kids the most.

After she had finished discussing basic ground rules for having a bunch of American social media influencers all around for two entire weeks, she gave a smile and said they would be arriving later that afternoon. It would be a lot, but it would be good for getting international fans for some of the lesser known bands.

All Hyunjin could do was pour all his emotions into the dance rehearsal while he waited to meet her for the first time. Each step helped make him stop overthinking, terribly anxious thoughts plaguing his head.

He just kept moving, making his blood flow through his body. He focused on each step of the dance until it was etched into his bones. Eventually, he had to succumb to the natural progression of exhaustion all humans must deal with. It was conveniently timed because the influencers were starting to arrive.

He wiped off some of his sweat with his shirt and took a swig of his water. Then he walked with the rest of the band with the hopes he didn't look gross.

…..

His eyes immediately darted to her as the crowd emerged, her arm wrapped around her friends’. She was even more breathtaking in person, the red of her shirt complimenting her skin. She wore black cargo pants with a metal chain wrapped around her belt loops, with red combat boots, and a red off the shoulder, slightly oversized top. Hyunjin tried to suppress his smile, happy that she was even fashionable just like him.

Bangchan hurried over to them before he had a chance, after he was the leader and the most sociable of the group. Without thinking much of it, Hyunjin followed closely behind with the rest of the Stray Kids.

“Hi!” Bangchan said, greeting both women with a hug. They accepted it with warmth, both being enveloped by Chan. Hyunjin watched from his spot, trying to stop him from running away screaming. She was rather intimidating!

I really need to go say hi. I don't want to seem unfriendly. He frowned a bit, trying to get his feet to move. With a small burst of relief, he felt himself move closer.

He was standing in front of her, in all her gorgeous glory. She was shorter than him, her head tilting up so she could see his face. Hyunjin wanted to paint her and capture her beauty forever. He wanted to study every feature and examine every inch of her. He wanted to worship her.

Hyunjin’s face flushed when she waved at him, suddenly making him realize where his train of thoughts had been going. He couldn't possibly expect to memorize her body if she didn't even know what he's like beyond a stage presence. (He wondered if they had ever met before, if she had gone to a concert long ago.)

“Hi.” He finally said, pushing the words off of his tongue and into the world. It sounded awkward and shy, like he sometimes felt when placed in front of a camera. Hyunjin wished he could be the painter instead of the muse sometimes.

She smiled brightly, her cheeks curving to allow such a beautiful expression. He was sure he had died and gone to heaven. Why else would an angel look at him so beautifully? He tried to ignore the blood rushing in his ears and hoped that it wasn't obvious he was warming up feverishly. (Would she mind if he kissed her? Just a small one, just to get a taste.)

“It's nice to meet you, Hyunjin.” She said, still looking up at him, “I've been a big fan for years.”

Maybe this was all a very big dream. Maybe the Sandman had decided to give Hyunjin something to enjoy, and he gave him…her. If this was a dream, Hyunjin didn't want to wake up. If the only way he could be in the presence of this woman was through his fantasies, so be it.

Oh, I still have to reply.

Bangchan glanced at Hyunjin expectantly, probably wondering why he was forgetting to speak. His brain was so full of thoughts that he couldn't help the way he got sidetracked.

“Well I am a big fan of you too.” He said with a smile, “I like your streams.” Was that too honest? Would she feel uncomfortable by his confession? He'll repent if she needs him to wash his hands with holy water and pray his awkwardness goes away.

She looked a bit shocked, her warm brown eyes widening ever so slightly. But then she warmed up again, like chocolate melting on his tongue. She was comforting without even realizing it.

“Who would've thought we'd be fans of each other?” she said with a shrug and a laugh before eventually moving on to greet the rest of the people. He wished he could make her stay, say something so stunning she can't help but feel transfixed by him.

Instead, he watched her walk away, trying to ignore the way his heart deflated. It made sense that she needed to walk away and do what she needed to do. It was understandable.

…..

The first day of advertisement was pretty boring. Hyunjin doesn't like to complain much, but he barely got the chance to hang out with her, and he was stuck going over plans. There were a lot of conference meetings, with stale cookies and uncomfortable seating. (He wondered if that was what it's like to work an office job - he's suddenly glad to be an idol.)

“Can we go home soon?” Han whined, already flopping on top of a displeased I.N. Hyunjin couldn't help but understand Han's frustration. They had been holed up for hours doing nothing.

Hwa-Young nodded in sympathy and said, “One more thing to discuss, then you can return to your dorms.”

Hyunjin perked up a bit at this, happy that today was almost over. He had been hoping to spend more time with his love, but she had been placed with the also influencers on the other side of the conference room. His eyes flickered to her as if he were a moth drawn to a flame.

She was listening intently to Hwa-Young, her arms crossed across her chest. She looked more relaxed, maybe even a bit sleepy, based on the way her eyes started to flutter shut. She was so pretty, and Hyunjin would be happy to die if it meant he could look at her forever.

“We have hotels for everybody. Listen carefully to your name so you can retrieve your housing information.” Hwa-Young explained before she started to talk about everybody. Soon, all the streamers left, all of them except for her and her friend.

Hwa-Young blinked in surprise, reading over her list once more before she flushed. Hyunjin watched with a bit of confusion, wondering what happened.

“I am terribly sorry, miss.” Hwa-Young said, hurrying over to whisper in the woman's ear. They talked quietly before Hwa-Young turned to face the bands.

“Will anybody volunteer to house these lovely ladies?” Hwa-Young announced, making Hyunjin’s heart fail. Maybe he was going into cardiac arrest because what the fuck?

Before Hyunjin could even begin to process Changbin stood up, with Bangchan giving an encouraging smile. Oh no, oh no no no.

“Hyunjin can take them in, as long as they are comfortable with it.” Changbin said, giving a charming smile to the foreigners. He was annoyingly friendly, like a gym bro teddy bear or something.

It didn't take long to convince her and her friend, Changbin was very good at charming people. She smiled and said, “Oh if he offers I would enjoy that very much. But I don't want to intrude.”

Hyunjin forced himself to speak, opening his mouth and saying, “It's not intruding. You can stay with me and Changbin.”

He didn't want to do this. He needed to escape her even for a moment. What if his heart gives out from racing so much? Hyunjin did not want her to stay with him, to leave him without any way to stay calm. But he would be kind (mostly because Changbin forced his hand.)

“Thank you, that's very nice.” Her friend also added, still standing beside her. Hyunjin noticed his love’s friend seemed to be rather awkward, looking anywhere but at the group of people before them. He supposed he could understand, but he hoped Changbin might get along with her. Hyunjin would be housing his favorite person in the whole wide world.

Maybe that's a bit aggressive to say though, she may bias Hyunjin but that doesn't mean she likes him all that much. So Hyunjin kept his thoughts locked up tight, not wanting a single one to slip through the cracks.

“Well, now that it's all settled we can head home.” Hwa-Young said with a smile and a clap of her hands. She stood up along with the other idols, all heading to their various dorms.

“Well, I guess we'll be off.” Bangchan said with a sly grin, having the other members follow behind him like ducklings following their mother. It was just Hyunjin and her, well and her friend and Changbin. But they were basically alone!

“Do you want to head to the dorm now?” Hyunjin finally asked, hoping his expression was calm and collected. Basically, it's the opposite of how he was feeling.

She nodded and allowed Changbin to lead the way with her friend following close behind. She walked side by side with Hyunjin, her hand brushing against his.

Surely he would explode, his heart would inhale until it was bursting with excitement. Hyunjin was totally going to die over this weekend. But maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

…..

He did not get a single wink of sleep that night. All he could think about was the fact she was sleeping outside his room, on the couch. She was so close to him, how could he possibly be expected to sleep?

Hyunjin got dressed the next morning, not being sure what to expect. What sort of videos might they film today? Who would he be filming them with?

With a yawn, he exited his room and noticed that she was not there. She must have gone already.

Changbin was waking up around the same time, stretching his muscular arms. His black hair was a bit messy and curled, since it was without the products he puts his hair in.

“Are we heading to the studio today?” Hyunjin asked the older man, tilting his head slightly. Maybe they would be showing the influencers new dances or something. Or maybe they would be writing songs and collaborating. There were many things they might do.

“Yeah, and we're late so c'mon.” Changbin said, walking towards the door and wrapping his arm around Hyunjin's neck. He dragged the younger boy with him, despite Hyunjin's attempts at getting free.

Hyunjin groaned, but allowed Changbin to ruffle his hair and do all the things he usually does. He is like a strange older brother, with the way he likes to tease and is awfully goofy. But Hyunjin likes it.

They walked quickly to the studio, remembering that the boys often left clothes there. So they would be able to change once they were there.

Once they arrived, Hyunjin felt incredibly underdressed compared to her. She was wearing a lavender chunky sweater with a black mini skirt and black tights. She was so elegant and pretty, he couldn't help but feel awkward still dressed in his lounge wear.

She smiled upon seeing Hyunjin, making his heart swell with a strange sort of fuzzy feeling he was unused to. Sure, he always felt warm and safe with the other members of Stray Kids. But this was a sort of feeling that made him want to wrap it around himself like a blanket. It was so lovely.

“What are we doing today?” He asked, momentarily forgetting he should probably apologize for being late or maybe he should get ready instead of staring at her with a look of amazement. He was certain his eyes had glazed over and he had his lips parted, staring as if she had just descended from heaven.

“Oh we are going to be doing some Tik Tok dances together then later we are going to do a kitchen stream,” She explained, her voice confident and self assured. Hyunjin wasn't completely inept when it comes to social media but this still wasn't his speciality. She was in her realm and bringing him in, despite his confusion.

“Oh,” He nodded, only half understanding what she meant. But he didn't want to look dumb in front of her- he wanted her to be impressed. A stream about kitchens? How strange, but if it worked for her Hyunjin would do it without complaint.

“While you get changed, I'll set up the camera.” She said with her lips curved up with a delightful grin. How was he expected to function when she looked at him like that? Like she saw him as more than an idol. Perhaps he was as deluded as his fans, but he wondered if there was a chance she liked him as he liked her.

Hyunjin nodded and moved away, wanting to get dressed as quickly as possible so he could spend time with her. She was calmer in real life, or maybe that's because she needs to be professional. (He wants to uncover each facet of her personality, to peel away the layers until he is greeted with her, the whole and true of her soul.)

…..

“I regret doing dances with professional dancers,” She grumbled, taking a swig of water. Hyunjin watched her from behind, trying his best to not let his eyes stay on her for too long.

“You're doing great,” he said, with an attempt at an encouraging smile. She definitely wasn't a dancer like he was, but she was trying her best. And he was sure fans would find her attempts at doing the Beabadoobee dance to be amusing.

“Well, it's okay since we are going to do the cooking video now.” She explained, turning to look at Hyunjin. Her brown eyes were shimmering delightfully, reminding him of dark glittering jewels. He could stare at her for hours and never get bored, memorizing every line of her face would be the best of tasks.

“What are we going to make?” Hyunjin asked, following her to the kitchen. The other members of Stray Kids were working with other streamers and influencers, doing a variety of activities from singing to doing the hear me out trend.

“Empanadas.” She hummed in reply, pulling Hyunjin’s thoughts back to her. He was like a moth to a flame, helplessly attracted to her. He was weak against her attacks, her ability to reel him in constantly impressive.

She pulled out ingredients while Hyunjin turned on the camera, flickering it onto a stream. A steady flow of viewers came in, making the count get higher and higher. He wished his English was better so he could better read the constant stream of comments in the corner of the screen.

“Hi everybody! Welcome or welcome back depending on if you're new here.” she said, glancing at Hyunjin, “Today's stream is extra special because I have a guest with me! Hwang Hyunjin from the band Stray Kids!”

The chat spammed with excitement, using a lot of smiling emojis and capital letters. He smiled at the camera, trying not to get suddenly shy. He was used to being in the public eye- just not used to it with his crush right next to him.

They got started, with her giving Hyunjin instructions and working carefully on the empanadas. He did as he was told, trying to focus on making food while also appearing entertaining. (How did she do this on a daily basis? At least Hyunjin has his other members to lean on whenever he gets tired. She works alone and works constantly.)

“Guys, stop.” She scolded suddenly, causing him to turn around so he can read what's happening in the chat. He read a few of the comments, a flush rising in his cheeks. Were.they teasing her for having a crush on him? He was so bewildered he didn't realize he had been staring blankly at the screen until she made a noise.

She said to Hyunjin, “Okay, I will admit I had a crush on you back when I was in highschool. Hopefully that will appease chat enough for them to stop bothering us.”

She sent a playfully stern look at the camera, unaware of the way Hyunjin felt like he was going to explode. She had a crush on him when she was in highschool. Which meant she used to have feelings for him. Holy shit.

The rest of the day went by extraordinarily quickly, but perhaps that's just how it felt since he was still distracted by the revelation. Did she still have feelings for him? How deep of a crush did she have back then? Had she talked about it before and how had he not noticed if she had? He watched her videos almost religiously, he couldn't possibly have missed a video of her talking about him. He would have remembered surely!

He couldn't get to sleep for the second night in a row. He was busy thinking about what he learned, how she used to have a crush on him. Maybe he was just overthinking, maybe it didn't matter that she had a crush on him in highschool.

But he couldn't let it go no matter how hard he tried. There was a strange feeling in the smallest part of his heart that told him she still felt the same.

…..

“Hyunjin,” Han said suddenly, snapping his fingers to get his friend's attention. Hyunjin turned around, flustered that he was very likely caught staring at her. It didn't help that she was working with TWICE so close by. He could probably feel the warmth of her skin, smell her perfume. Hyunjin was trying his very best to not get distracted.

“What do you need?” Hyunjin asked, stretching his arms. They were doing some sort of challenge where they needed to run and sing at the same time. It sounded complicated but it could be helpful for when they would go on for a concert.

“You should tell her how you feel.” Han replied, looking up with a rather serious look. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, tapping his foot against the wooden floors. Hyunjin’s eyes widened, his lips parting a bit with shock.

Was Han serious? Did he actually expect me to bare my soul to the girl of my dreams so casually?

“Why? She probably doesn't like me back.” Hyunjin dismissed with a wave of his hand, looking away as though he couldn't fathom admitting this while making eye contact. Feelings are so troublesome it seems.

Han laughed and put his hand on his friend's shoulder, still staring so intently at him. “You can't be serious, Jinnie. She has fallen for you, almost as hard as you have for her.”

He turned away to look at her. She was busy with Momo, helping the girl do some sort of silly TikTok. However, what Hyunjin noticed when he also turned was the fact she was looking at them.

Her mouth broke into a smile and she paused enough to wave at Hyunjin, acting so casual despite the fact she was setting his heart on fire. Did she really feel the same way? Could she possibly want Hyunjin the way he wants her?

Hyunjin looked back at Han, and grumbled in a low tone, “How would I confess to her anyway?”

Han grinned at that, clapping his hands together. The shorter boy said, “Do what feels right to you, Hyunjin. What's a good way to confess?”

Then he walked away, returning to the influencer they were working with currently. Hyunjin stood in place, feeling almost as if there was cement in his bones keeping him still.

How would he confess? Should he write a letter to her? Maybe he should march over there and demand they go on a date! Okay..maybe that's a bad idea. But still, how should he confess?

She will only be around for the concert tomorrow and then she'll be returning to America. Suddenly he faltered, his heart racing with excitement.

What if…? Hyunjin could barely contain his sudden happiness, wanting to already put his plan into action.

…..

“This was a bad idea.” Hyunjin said, attempting to wrangle himself out of Changbin's strong grip so he could avoid getting on stage. It was a futile attempt, with the older man wrapping his arms around Hyunjin's shoulders.

“Nope, you're doing this.” Changbin said, shoving Hyunjin even closer to the stage. There was no getting out of this- he was going to confess to her.

“Fine, fine.” Hyunjin relented, pushing Changbin away with a half hearted glare. Then he shook his hands, trying to be rid of the nerves rattling around his chest.

He walks onto stage, ignoring the way his heart was pounding against his ribs. Looking up, he immediately found her. She was as beautiful as always, staring up at him with awe. He needed to do this - he needed to confess properly.

He said her name like one might a god, worshipping the shape of the vowels on his tongue. “I love you, so very much. I wish to be with you forever, and so I sing this for you.”

Then Hyunjin did what he does best: sing. He chose to sing Ice Cream, knowing it was one of her favorite songs after he had done his research. He put his soul into the lyrics, every ounce of his love into the silky tones of his voice.

…..

After the concert, he was greeted by her. She was a vision, something he wished to see in his mind's eye every time he goes to sleep. He might dream of her forever, use her as solace from the grim realities of the world. If he had her, he might be able to survive anything.

“You love me?” She asked, reaching out to grab his hands. Sparks shot through his fingertips, warm rushing through him wherever she touched.

Hyunjin nodded and said, “Yes, I do. I have loved you for a long time.”

She took a moment to process his words, squeezing his hands. She kept touching him, even the slightest brush of skin sending shockwaves directly to his heart. She was so lovely and she was holding his hands, was she trying to give him a heart attack?

“I love you too, Hyunjin.” She whispered, looking up at him. Her brown eyes glistened with an intense emotion, and something he is finally realizing is love. She stared up at him with a sense of adoration he had only dreamed of previously.

He leaned down, feeling her breath warning his cheek. He wanted to stay like this forever, holding her hands and keeping his face close to hers. With a small dose of courage, potentially regrettable or not, he leaned in close enough to kiss her.

He brushed his lips over hers, savoring the taste of her chapstick. He removed his hands from hers to hold her hips, pulling her flush against him.

She kissed him back, her hands pressing into his chest. She was so perfect, and she was his now, his to love and his to care for.

He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers, letting his eyes flutter shut. This was everything he had ever wanted and more. If this wasn't heaven, he wasn't sure what was.

“Will you give me the honor of being your boyfriend?” He asked softly, still holding her close. If he could put her inside his heart, he could.

“As long as you'll let me be your girlfriend.” She replied, curling her fingers into his hair. Hyunjin could barely think, barely do anything except get her closer and closer. He wanted her, and now he had her. He was the luckiest man in the world.

Hyunjin didn't expect to ever fall in love the way he did. It was a gentle and slow descent, like ice cream melting on a summer's day. He was melting for her, his cold heart thawing to recieve her love. Having her in his arms was like coming home. He might nog have expected to fall in love like this, but he was incapable of regretting it. It was lovely, just like her.

[susicheng]

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ dm for prices      l.mk

chapter 10 markie?

you expected to be nervous. this was teetering the line between date territory and the casual friend hangouts you and mark had been having before you went home for a month. not to mention, you hadn’t seen mark in person for so long (not counting yesterday when he surprised you at the airport). being alone with him again might be completely foreign territory again, after all of the talking you had been doing over break.

somehow, though, seeing mark only eased your nerves. as he opened the passenger side door, you could only look at his face and smile, serotonin rushing through your system.

“hey.” he climbed in awkwardly, as endearing as ever. “you look really good.” you could tell he wasn’t used to being provided the princess treatment from others. good thing you were here now to change that.

“just good?” you teased.

“beautiful. you look beautiful.”

“thank you markie. you look gorgeous yourself.”

“gorgeous?” the flush on his cheeks was evident, even from your peripheral vision as you began to drive, focusing more on the road than his face.

“yeah. you’re gorgeous.”

“can’t say anyone has ever called me that before.”

“really?” you glanced over at him, only for a second, to witness the shy nod he produced. “then i’m happy to be the first.”

he seemed to appreciate the lull in the conversation, taking this time to compose himself after your comment.

“you’re a good driver.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt at changing the topic, trying to regain control of the situation to avoid become more flustered. too bad you had contradicting plans. “thanks, i try. wouldn’t want my princess to be harmed under my watch.”

“i thought you said you were leaning towards ‘babygirl’?” his reply was playful. confident, even. but the reappearance of redness on his cheeks gave him away.

“we’ll see where the night takes us, yeah?” maybe you were implying something sexual. maybe not. who could really dictate that call.

“oh. yeah, okay.” you pulled into a parking spot, finally able to fully turn and appreciate his (adorable) reactions to your words.

“you’re cute mark.” his face was only getting redder. you really wanted to bite him, he was too cute. who knew mark lee was a sucker for being pampered.. (you had a feeling he had somewhat of a praise kink. nice to know your theory was closer to becoming true).

“thanks.”

you had been parked for a minute, watching mark expectantly as he seemed at a loss for what to do.

“are you going to get out of the car, or do you want me to get the door for you?” you giggled, watching the realization dawn on his expression and send him into panic mode.

“oh! oh, i can get out by myself. hahaha. thank you. i can get out by myself.” the way he moved reminded you a bit of a baby deer, unsteady and nervous. maybe you weren’t the only one that was nervous about seeing the other in real life after so long of being hundreds of miles apart.

“baby, you’re so nervous. why?” you were both out of the car now, mark getting particularly jumpy every time you got too close, like he was afraid to make the wrong move around you.

“oh. um. no reason, it’s just exciting for you to be back.” 

“that’s all?”

“yeah! yeah that’s all.”

the mall was as exciting as it usually is. despite window shopping time and time again, you still laugh every single time at the candy dicks in that one store. and the obnoxious animal masks in the one diagonal from it. nothing beats taking stupid pictures together wearing realistic wolf masks in a mall.

as you were walking around with mark, hands brushing together every few steps, you noticed him zero in on a particular display in the window of a clothing store. there were matching spiderman shirts displayed. of course that nerd noticed them from so far away.

“you want those?” you gestured to the shirts, a smile on your face.

“well. isn’t it kind of…” he trailed off, cheeks reddening again. you could get used to that, he looked unnervingly cute when he was embarrassed. 

“kind of?” 

“it’s kind of couple-y.” he muttered, barely loud enough for you to hear. he was just so cute.

“what’s the problem with that? if it’s cute, it’s cute.” you grabbed onto his hand, tugging him towards the store.

“you don’t think it’s weird?” stupid question for him to ask, as you’re dragging him in to buy them, but you digress.

“no, i don’t think it’s weird to buy matching shirts with you mark. i think it’s cute.” 

it took no time to find the shirts in the store, quickly picking out your respective sizes and taking them up to the counter. when the time came to pay, you saw mark reaching into his wallet to pull out his own money, but not before you levelled him with a stern look and pushed his hands back down.

“hey hey hey, you are not paying. remember, you’re my princess today, mark lee. put your wallet away.”

his eyes widened (cute). he obediently pocketed his wallet, watching in stunned silence as you paid and thanked the cashier, grabbing mark’s hand again to direct him out of the store.

“i kind of like it when you’re assertive..” he was quiet when he said it, almost like he didn’t quite want you to hear it. his bad, though, because you were far too observant about anything he did.

“yeah? you like getting bossed around?” you shot him a wink, laughing when he tore his hand out of your grip in shock.

“i didn’t mean it like that.” the shock in his tone was evident, only causing you to laugh harder.

“you didn’t?”

he stared at you, seeming to be building up confidence. “maybe i did. maybe i didn’t. there’s only one way to find out i guess.” he schooled his tone into nonchalance. he was blushing (again) though. he really was an open book, at least to you.

“look who’s being bold now! mark lee, i didn’t know you had it in you!” you hit his shoulder lightly, smiling widely as you two made your way to the food court. 

“i’m a surprising person.” he shrugged. 

“are you saying there’s more where that came from?” you glanced over at him, grinning at this newfound confidence.

“that’s exactly what i’m saying.” there was a challenge in his eyes, one that you were about to mirror. that is, until the sound of mark’s phone buzzing in his pocket suddenly cuts through the conversation. 

you raise an eyebrow but brush it off, figuring it’s just an unimportant call. but when the buzzing persists, you can see the way he hesitates, eyes flicking to the phone in his pocket. it's not like him to avoid a call to this extent. you wait for him to take it, but something in his demeanor feels off.

you glance at him. "you gonna get that?"

mark hesitates, his hand hovering over his pocket, before he quickly reaches for his phone. it’s almost too fast. but before he can even pull it out, it rings again, louder this time. his face visibly tightens, and for a split second, you see him struggle with whether to answer or not. you watch his fingers curl into a fist, then release, as he takes the phone from his pocket.

"are you not going to answer it?" you ask, trying to sound casual, but there’s an edge in your voice now. something feels wrong.

"i’ll just—" he mutters, his voice faltering. "it’s not important."

you raise an eyebrow, a little taken aback by his sudden nervousness. you try to suppress the sharp, uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine, but something isn’t sitting right. "who is it? you’re acting weird. are you sure you’re okay?"

the phone buzzes again, and this time, his face pales. he immediately silences it, but not before you catch a glimpse of a message notification from jaemin. your breath catches. 

“you said you’d call me tonight. you can’t keep avoiding me, mark. we need to talk.”

a chill runs down your spine as the words echo in your mind. we need to talk… what does that mean?

mark quickly shoves the phone into his pocket, his hands visibly trembling now. you can see the guilt and discomfort flashing in his eyes. “it’s nothing. please, just forget about it.”

but you can’t just forget it. the message, the urgency, the way he’s been avoiding the call—it’s all wrong. your thoughts race, and suddenly, all the doubts you had been pushing aside start to surface. you thought things were going well, but now... everything feels like it might be falling apart before it even started.

“mark,” you say, your voice soft but firm, “who is that? why does he keep calling you like this?”

mark opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. his jaw tightens, and for a moment, it’s like he’s completely frozen. you can feel the space between you two growing, like a wall slowly building.

“i just…” he finally says, his voice strained, “i didn’t want to complicate things. we’re going in a really good direction. i really like you. i didn’t want you to think—” his words falter. 

you feel your chest tighten, the pieces clicking together in an uncomfortable way. of course now he tries to save himself with a confession. the moment you had been building up for, achieved after an ex(?) is trying to reach out to mark.

you take a step back, your hand instinctively pulling away from his. “i can’t do this right now, mark. i thought we were going in a good direction too."

his face crumples, his eyes widening with a mix of panic and guilt. “i didn’t mean to keep things from you. i swear. it’s just… complicated. jaemin and i—”

you raise your hand, cutting him off before he can finish “no. you don’t get to do this, mark. you don’t get to confess and then go on about your relationship with someone else. it’s not fair.”

mark’s eyes are filled with regret, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re standing there, feeling betrayed, alone in your confusion.

the phone buzzes one last time, and this time, you don’t even look at it. you’ve seen enough.

“i think i need some space,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. you turn away from him, your stomach churning, heart aching. you can feel the weight of the unspoken words in the air, and you can’t breathe under it anymore.

mark doesn’t stop you. he doesn’t even try to reach for you this time.

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⊹₊⟡⋆ mel's corner: happy holidays guys hahaha

© susicheng .. please do not copy, reupload, or translate my work

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[ay4tou]

daisies and lilies | johan seong x reader

summary: at the flower shop you work in, one of your regular customer finds solace he's been finding amidst all the beautiful flowers — you included.

author's note: i ate in making the summary omg... anyway i love this boy sm (╥_╥) he's the main reason why i started reading lookism | masterlist

The bell above the door chimes again, the sound so familiar now that you don’t even need to look up to know who it is. You glance at the clock on the wall:

6:57 PM.

Right on time.

“Late today,” you say lightly, focusing on the bouquet of snapdragons you’re arranging. You don’t need to check, but you know he’ll be leaning against the doorframe, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, his sharp eyes scanning the shop like it’s a place he’s not quite sure he belongs in.

“You close at seven. That means I’m on time,” he replies, his tone carrying the same stubbornness it always does.

It started with silent visits, weeks of him stepping into the shop. He never bought anything at first, never even spoke until the day you called him out on his quiet lurking.

“You know, this isn’t a library,” you’d said that first time. “You’re supposed to buy something, not just stare.”

He’d blinked at you, almost like he didn’t know how to respond. Then, after a moment, he’d muttered, “What if I don’t know what I want?”

“Then you ask for help.”

That had earned you a long, piercing stare that had made you feel like he was sizing you up, trying to figure out if you were worth the trouble.

He must have decided you were because he’d kept coming back after that.

Now, months later, you’ve fallen into a strange rhythm. He comes in most evenings, buying a single flower or just watching as you work. You thought it was kinda weird at first, but you really didn't mind, as long as you had company on the boring parts of your shift.

You still don’t know much about him, not really. But at least he told you his name. Johan Seong.

You’d offered yours in return, and the sound of it on his lips had stayed with you longer than it should have.

“Hey, Johan,” you say, breaking the silence. “You know, if you keep coming here, people might think you actually like flowers.”

He snorts, stepping closer to the counter. “Maybe I do.”

“Oh, really?” You arch a brow, meeting his gaze. “What’s your favorite, then?”

His eyes flicker over the array of blooms, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he picks up a lily from the vase on the counter, turning it over in his hands.

“This one,” he says finally.

“Peace and renewal,” you murmur, watching him carefully. “Why does that not surprise me?"

He looks up, and for a moment, there’s something almost playful in his expression. “What, you think I need peace or something?”

You shrug, your lips twitching into a smile. “I think you need a lot of things.”

He laughs then, a short, sharp sound that’s more bitter than amused. “You’re not wrong.”

“What about you?” he asks suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. “What’s your favorite?”

“Daisies,” you say without hesitation.

“Daisies?” He raises a brow. “That’s boring.”

“They’re not boring,” you protest, crossing your arms.

He tilts his head, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. He doesn’t argue. Instead, he sets the lily down and leans against the counter, his expression softening. “You ever think about leaving this place?"

The question catches you off guard. “Leaving? Why would I?”

He shrugs, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t quite place. “I don’t know. Seems like you’re stuck here.”

“I like it here,” you say simply. “It’s peaceful.”

He doesn’t respond, but the way his jaw tightens tells you he has thoughts he’s not sharing.

The nights grow colder, and his visits become less frequent. When he does show up, he’s quieter, more distant. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but something about the look in his eyes keeps you from speaking.

The bell above the shop door stays silent as the hours tick by. You close up, heart heavy with a worry you can’t quite name. The shop feels emptier without him, like a shadow has been cast over the warmth of the flowers.

It’s a week later, just as you’re locking up for the night, when the doorbell chimes faintly. You turn, and your breath catches in your throat.

“Johan?”

He’s leaning heavily against the doorframe, his face pale and drawn. A cut above his brow is bleeding sluggishly, and bruises bloom across his jaw and neck.

"Hey,” he rasps, his voice weak but still carrying that stubborn edge.

You rush to his side, your heart pounding in your chest. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Don’t… don’t worry about it,” he mutters, waving you off even as his knees buckle. You catch him before he can fall, his weight heavy against you.

“Johan, you’re bleeding! Let me-”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice firmer this time. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see something raw and unguarded there. “I didn’t come here for that.”

“Then why-”

“I just… I needed to see you,” he says quietly, his voice cracking on the last word. “One last time.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You grab his arm, your fingers tightening instinctively. “What do you mean one last time? Hey, you're not gonna... are you?”

“I don’t have a choice,” he cuts you off, his expression twisting with something like regret. “But I'll be back. I promise.”

Your chest tightens, and you shake your head, refusing to believe what he’s saying.

"You're a liar. Stay. I want to help."

“You can’t fix this.” he says, his voice in pain but softening.

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. “And what about you? Are you just going to disappear?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a single lily, its white petals slightly crumpled but still beautiful. He holds it out to you with a trembling hand.

“I mean, I brought this.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "You said you liked lilies, right?"

You take the flower, your fingers brushing against his. You stared at the single lily, almost wilting but staying strong, even as it's stem is shriveled up.

“Johan…”

"Yeah?"

He leans in, so close you can feel his breath against your skin. For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

"I said I liked daisies. Not lilies."

He stops just short, his forehead almost resting against yours. He retracts his head and makes eye contact with you, looking a bit surprised.

"Oh shit. Really?"

"You really need to take care of yourself." You stifled a laugh. "So young and already has memory loss, what's next, blindness?"

"Hey uh, about that..."

Moments pass and his wounds are all bandaged up, Johan preparing himself to go out of the store one last time.

He sighs. “Take care of yourself too, okay? Bye.” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

“Johan!” you call out, but he doesn’t turn back.

The bell chimes faintly as he disappears into the night, leaving you standing there with the wilted lily clutched tightly in your hand.

Days turn into weeks, then months, and you don’t see him again. The ache of his absence feels like a wound that refuses to heal, but life goes on, even when your heart feels heavier than it should.

Then, one morning, you step outside to open the shop and find a single lily on the doorstep. No note, no explanation. Just the flower, pristine and beautiful.

Your breath catches, and for the first time in months, you feel a flicker of something that feels like hope.

The lilies keep coming, rarely but consistently. Sometimes weeks pass between them, sometimes months. But each time you find one, it’s like a quiet reminder that he’s still out there somewhere, alive and thinking of you.

You never see him again, but you carry him with you in the quiet moments. Although the ache of his absence never fully fades, there’s a quiet comfort in knowing that, in some small way, he’s still with you.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Happy Christmas @strandnreyes !! Here is your very late gift from your secret santa!

I had a plan, it was going well, and then I wrote myself into a corner and couldn't figure out how to fix it... and went with plan B at around 6PM yesterday. But I'm pretty happy with the result and I hope you are too!

written for @tarlos-santa for the prompt: roommate’s best friend AU

---

Strickland holiday special (AO3)

“December 24th, 7pm, dinner at my place. Bring yourself and your holiday spirit.” Paul announced when he sat down at Carlos’ table in the bar they’d agreed to meet for a catch up after work.

Carlos was thrown off guard for a second but then shook his head.

“Can’t. Nochebuena with the family. My mom will kill me if I miss that.”

“And you don’t want to spend the holidays with your best friend?” Paul asked, fake hurt, and took a sip from the beer Carlos had ordered for him.

“You’ve met my mother... and she likes you now… but if you keep me from coming to mass with her and the rest of the family, she’s going to put you on her naughty list for next year.” Carlos replied, only half joking. He wasn’t especially excited to spend the holidays with his entire extended family, but it usually was nice to catch up with cousins he only ever saw at birthdays and family gatherings.

Only this year he also had to avoid his sister and her interest in his love life ever since she set him up with a friend of a friend a few months ago.

“Ah but if I promise to feed her boy, even Andrea Reyes will forgive me.” Paul told him and Carlos had to admit to himself he was probably right. “Come on man, it’s just dinner with some friends. Some people from work, and you’ll get to meet Asha for real.”

“I’ve already met her!”

“Outside McDonald’s in the middle of Saturday afternoon shoppers doesn’t count.” Paul argued. “Come on, you know you want to say yes. I’ll make my famous chilli.”

“Well in that case I’m definitely not coming, you chilli heathen.” Carlos joked and Paul good naturedly rolled his eyes.

“If I allow you to assist me in the kitchen, will you come? I’ll even let you disgrace my chilli with your nachos.”

Carlos laughed.

“Ok, fine, you can be my sous chef. Maybe I’ll even let you stir something.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Reyes.” Paul replied and clinked his beer bottle against Carlos’. “Oh and my roommate can help us out too.”

“Roommate? Since when do you have a roommate?”

Paul shrugged.

“A few weeks. The new guy at work I told you about.”

Carlos frowned, trying to remember any new guy Paul had mentioned.

“Tyler. From New York. He’s not going home for the holidays and he doesn’t really know anyone in Austin yet.” Paul clarified.

“Right. And you take in strays now?”

“He was living in some shitty backpackers hostel! I couldn’t let him stay there. The place is a health hazard. And I have a spare room anyway.” He shrugged. “It’s just until he’s found a place of his own. He’s a nice guy. Cleans up after himself. A lot of wrong opinions about pizza though. Come to think about it, you two would probably get on great. You can be wrong about food together!”

“Are you trying to set me up with your new roomie?”

“No, but you might like the guy. You both could do with some new friends.”

“I have friends!” Carlos protested and pointed his bottle at Paul. “I have you.”

“And if you and Tyler hit it off you could have two friends!”

Carlos shook his head and took a sip of his drink.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Oh no. No, I know what ‘I’ll think about it’ means in Carlos Reyes speak. It means ‘no but I don’t want to say it to your face.’”

“No, it means I’ll think about it. I might have plans… with Marco.”

“Oh the boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Carlos insisted. “We’ve only been out a few times… I barely know him. Luisa set me up with him.”

Paul nodded.

“I remember. And you like him?”

Carlos pulled a face like the thought of admitting anything of the sort to Paul was causing him physical pain.

“I don’t know… He’s alright… He keeps asking about my job.”

“That’s what people do when they’re getting to know each other don’t they?”

“Well… yeah… but it’s all he talks about. I don’t even know what he does for a living.”

“So ask him.” Paul said simply and Carlos gave a huff in reply.

They spent the rest of the night talking about Paul’s party plans, and carefully avoiding the topic of Carlos’ love life. Which he was more than grateful for.

By the time the 24th came around, Carlos had struck a deal with his mother. He’d promised her he’d go to midnight mass with her and the rest of the family, and then spend the entire Christmas at the ranch with them, so he’d be able to go to Paul’s dinner party and help him cook in the afternoon.

They’d decided on a menu together, agreeing to stay away from any controversial dishes and just focusing on putting a nice meal together for their friends.

Carlos had managed to wrangle the guest list out of Paul, and he knew most people that would attend. All but one. The mysterious Tyler.

Paul had mentioned he’d be helping them prep and Carlos was curious about the guy. Apparently he’d moved to Texas after a break up, but Paul either didn’t know the details or didn’t feel like it was his place to share and hadn’t told him anything more.

Not even a last name, which meant Carlos couldn’t even casually run him through the system.

He parked his car outside of Paul’s building and grabbed the supplies he’d picked up from the backseat before making his way to the front door. He tried to shift the bags in his arms so he could ring the doorbell without dropping anything when someone jogged up to him.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let me get that for you.” The person said and reached around him to open the door with a key.

“Thanks…” Carlos mumbled and walked into the building, up to the elevator. The person followed him and pushed the button for him.

“What floor are you headed?” the guy asked when they stepped into the elevator.

“Uh four.”

“Me too. Do you need a hand with those bags? I can carry one for you.” The person offered. “I promise I won’t run off with them.”

Carlos chuckled and shifted one of the bags so the person could take it from him. He hadn’t been able to get a good look at them yet, just a flash of a silver grey jacket and brown hair, but when he moved the bag out of the way, he came face to face with easily the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.

“Thanks.” Carlos managed to say and the beautiful man smiled at him, making him even more beautiful.

“No problem. Do you live in this building too? I only moved in a couple of weeks ago, I don’t really know the neighbours yet.”

“Oh uh no… I’m just… visiting my friend.” Carlos stammered, mentally kicking himself for not being able to keep his cool around a cute guy. “He lives at number 425.”

“No way.”

“Uh…”

“You’re Carlos!” It was a statement, not a question.

“Uh…”

“I’m TK.” The beautiful man said as the elevator doors opened and they walked onto Paul’s floor. “Paul mentioned you would be coming over to help prepare for tonight.”

“I… oh… you… you work with Paul…” Carlos stammered.

“Yeah, and he lets me crash in his spare room until I’ve found my own place. You don’t happen to know of any apartments for rent that don’t cost a small fortune, do you?”

“No… sorry.”

“That’s too bad.” The beautiful man stopped outside of Paul’s door and put his key in the lock. “Hey, look who I ran into downstairs.” He called out to Paul when he walked into the apartment.

“Oh, great, you’ve already met. Saves me the introductions. Now let’s get to work, this meal won’t cook itself.” Paul said, clapping his hands to spur his friends on.

Carlos was put on chopping duties and did his best to focus on the task at hand. The three of them chatted a little while they worked, with mainly Paul and TK swapping work stories.

“Chicago FD could take NYFD.” Paul insisted and Carlos had no clue what they were talking about. “Hell they could take NYFD and AFD.”

TK laughed.

“Sure, sure.” He popped an olive into his mouth and Carlos was absolutely mesmerised by him. The way his eyes sparkled with mischief, the smile that never seemed to leave his face, the curve of his lips… the way they would feel against his own… the –

“Ow! Shit, shit, shit, damn it!” Carlos swore and sucked his finger into his mouth. “The knife slipped.”

TK wiped his hands on a dish towel and carefully pulled Carlos’ hand away from his mouth.

“I’m a paramedic.” He told him. “Let me see.”

“I’ll go get the first aid kit from the bathroom.” Paul announced but neither man even so much as acknowledged him.

“It’s nothing.” Carlos insisted.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” TK told him and guided him over to the sink to run his hand under the tap. “I don’t think it’s very deep.” He said after taking a closer look at the cut.” “I think a simple bandage will do.”

“Right… ok.”

“One first aid kit!” Paul said a little too loudly, dropping the box onto the kitchen table. “It cost me a small fortune so it better have everything you need.”   

TK nodded and grabbed a paper towel, pressing it to the cut in Carlos’ hand.

“Keep pressure on that while I get some gauze to wrap it up.”

“You really don’t have to go through all this trouble for me… it’s just a small cut. It’ll be fine.”

“Reyes will you just let the medic treat that damn hand instead of bleeding all over my kitchen?” Paul sighed. “Your boyfriend won’t be happy if we let you bleed out on the onions.”

Carlos winced and he saw TK freeze up for a few seconds.

Damn it.

“You have a boyfriend?” TK asked, trying to sound casual, not looking at him but digging through the med kit instead.

“No!” Carlos said, a little louder than strictly necessary.

“Oh no, we’re not allowed to use the B word.” Paul said, exasperated. “They’ve just been going on dates for like three months. That’s not boyfriend behaviour at all.”

“We broke up.” Carlos blurted out, almost desperate to see TK’s reaction.

“Oh, I’m sorry man.” Paul replied, giving him a sympathetic look.

“It’s fine. He… I… we uhm… it just wasn’t working. We wanted different things.” Carlos told them. He didn’t want to go into detail, but at the same time needed TK to know he did not have a boyfriend.

“Well at least you found out now and not during a romantic dinner with an engagement ring in your pocket.” TK said, removing the paper towel from Carlos’ hand and carefully putting a gauze pad on it.

“Y-yeah.” Carlos agreed, sensing there was a story behind TK’s comment but not wanting to pry.

TK wrapped up Carlos’ hand with the care and precision of someone treating an arterial bleed, when they both knew a simple band aid would have done the trick.

“How’s that?” he asked when he put the last piece of tape on the bandage. “Not too tight?”

“It’s perfect.”

They managed to get through the rest of the afternoon without any more injuries, and Carlos had managed to compose himself and function more or less like a normal person by the time the other guests started to arrive.

He knew most of them through work and in Nancy’s case from high school math and science. He enjoyed catching up with them but still his eyes were constantly drawn to TK.

And maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like TK was looking at him too.

“Hellooo, earth to Carlos.” Nancy waved a hand in front of his face. “I asked you a question.”

“What? Sorry… I kind of zoned out for a minute there.”

“Uhuh, I noticed. I was talking about the red vs blue baseball game.”

“What about it?”

“Are you playing? Who is on the APD team? I’m trying to scope out the competition.”

“I don’t know. It’s months away.”

“She’s got a whole file with stats on everyone on the FD team on her computer.” Marjan cut in. “And she’s trying to find out who’s playing for PD so she can put together the same kind of file for them.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being prepared! I just want to win next time.” Nancy argued. “TK, do you play baseball?”

“I was in little league. I was pretty good.” TK replied. “Well according to my mom and my step dad anyway.” He laughed a little and took a sip of his drink.

“Good enough for me. We’ll have to get you to the batting cages in the new year so I can see you play.” Nancy decided.

“Who died and made you coach of the FD team?” Paul asked and the two of them got into an argument that snowballed into a debate where somehow Paul’s girlfriend Asha ended up as some kind of referee.

Carlos however could only focus on TK. He was sitting on the other side of the table, leaning back in his chair, drink in hand and an amused look on his face. He’d gotten changed before dinner and he was wearing a dark sweater with stripes across the chest and a diamond stud in his ear.

Carlos’ mouth had gone dry at the sight of him and he’d felt severely under dressed in his simple button down shirt and jeans.

“Who wants dessert?” Asha asked the group, trying to steer the conversations to a safer topic.

“I’ll get it.” Carlos said quickly, happy to be able to escape the madness for a few minutes and get his head together.

“I’ll help.” TK said, getting up from the table too and following him to the kitchen. “How’s your hand?” he asked as Carlos started pulling bowls from the kitchen cupboard.

“Oh, it’s fine.” He flexed a few times. “I barely feel it.” He smiled. “You’re a great doctor.”

“Paramedic.” TK corrected him. “It’s not the same. But thank you.”

Carlos desperately wanted to keep talking to him but didn’t know what to say. He tried to scoop some ice cream into one of the bowls but barely managed to get anything out of the container and only ended up bending the spoon.

“I guess we should have remembered to take it out of the freezer earlier.”

“Yeah… I guess so.” TK agreed. “If you run the hot water and hold the spoon under it, it’ll be easier to scoop with.” He suggested. “Or… we could just wait.”

He stepped closer to Carlos in the tiny kitchen and his eyes flicked between the other man’s eyes and lips.

There was laughter coming from the living room and someone, probably Paul, had put on some music.

“Yeah, we could… do that. I don’t think they’re really desperate for that ice cream.”

TK smiled.

“I don’t think so either…”

The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like hours until they suddenly moved at the same time.

TK grabbed a fistful of Carlos’ shirt, while Carlos’ hands were on TK’s neck, pulling him into a desperate kiss.

He felt TK’s tongue running along his lips and Carlos happily opened his mouth for him.

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed and neither of them wanted to stop.

Carlos’ hands were firmly in TK’s hair, and TK had managed to undo some of the buttons on Carlos’ shirt. They were both breathless by the time they had to come up for air.

“I’ve wanted to do that all day.” TK admitted. “I was gutted when Paul said you had a boyfriend.”

“Don’t have one of those.” Carlos insisted. “I’m very single.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“How would you like to change that?”

[multific]

Simply Perfect

Dimitri Kravinoff x Reader

Summary: Your first Christmas with him.

The fire crackles softly, casting a warm, golden glow across the room.

Outside, it was a rainy day in London, but inside, it was just the two of you, wrapped in the spell of Christmas.

The tree twinkles with the lights you placed on it that morning, and the smell of pine and cinnamon fills the air.

Dimitri sits next to you on the couch, his hand resting lightly on your knee as you look at him with a smile.

He looks so handsome in this light.

Despite the luxury of the room, there’s something wonderfully simple about tonight, just the two of you, sharing this special moment.

He reaches under the tree, pulling out a velvet box.

“I hope you like it,” Dimitri says, his voice low and smooth, carrying a hint of suspense.

Your heart skips a beat as you take the small box from him.

He’s always thoughtful, but there’s something about his sincerity tonight that makes your chest tighten in a good way.

You open the box, and your breathing stops for a moment.

Inside is a necklace, a beautiful silver necklace with a pendant which has intricate design that gleams like starlight.

It’s the one you’ve admired for months, the one you thought was out of reach.

It was simply too expensive and too beautiful for you.

You’ve talked about it before, but you never expected him to buy it for you.

“Dimitri… it’s perfect,” you whisper, your fingers brushing over the delicate diamonds.

You meet his gaze, his eyes dark and warm with affection. He doesn’t say anything, but the way he looks at you tells you everything.

“I'm glad you like it,” he says, his voice a soft promise.

You get the necklace from the box and drape it around your neck.

Immediately, he stands up, reaches behind you, and fastens the clasp with fast fingers.

His fingers brush your skin, and for a moment, you feel just how cold they are.

He must have been nervous to give you this beautiful gift.

"I feel spoiled." you laugh a little.

"You should be spoiled, you deserve it, My Love."

You reach for the gift you’ve been hiding in the pillow behind you.

It’s not nearly as extravagant, but it’s from the heart.

You spent months trying to find the best gift.

“I’ve got something for you, too,” you say, your voice a little shaky as you hand him the box.

He looks at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to, and it is only fair because you also bought me something,” you reply, your heart beating faster, now you understand why his fingers were cold.

Dimitri unwraps the gift slowly.

When he finally opens it, inside is a leather-bound journal. You watch as he makes a confused face.

Then he decided to open it.

The first page: For every moment we’ve shared, and every one we still have to come.

His expression softens, the stoic façade he often wears slipping just a little. His eyes flicker to you, searching your face but you just smile and motion for him.

“It’s… it’s beautiful,” he says, his voice thick with meaning. “You know, I’ve never been someone who writes down my thoughts, but… maybe I’ll start.”

As he flicks through the pages he notices that you have also written some things in there.

It makes him smile. You are so thoughtful.

You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I thought it would be nice. To have something for only you. Write your thoughts down since it has been a tough year for you. I have put some of mine in there. Some might be... dirty.”

His eyes lit up as he quickly began his search through the pages.

You only laugh.

He closes it, his thumb brushing over the cover.

“I’ll treasure it.”

For a long while, neither of you speaks. You simply sit there, in the quiet warmth of your home, the sound of the fire crackling in the background and the soft hum of Christmas music playing from the speakers.

"This is the best Christmas you know?" he speaks. "I never really liked Christmas... with my father... but you changed my mind."

"I'm glad I was able to help you. And I really do love the necklace."

He leans in and you kiss him.

It is a slow and soft kiss.

The world outside may be cold, but here, in this perfect, intimate space, you have everything you need and want.

You rest your head against his shoulder, the necklace he gave you gleaming softly in the firelight, and Dimitri pulls you closer, his embrace wrapping you in both warmth and affection.

He reaches for the remote and turns the TV to search for your favourite Christmas movie.

It was simply perfect.

A/N: Above photo is not mine! It's from Pinterest!

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @mel-vaz

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[riality-check]

hi, I'm new to arcane and I've been going a bit nuts trying to figure out what viktor's disability might be so I can write him right. I'm also disabled in my right leg but I know for sure we don't have the same thing at all.

I've seen people say his back brace is for scoliosis, and you write him as having a disability that leads to that, so it sounds like you have a pretty specific thing in mind! Could you please tell me what you're thinking of, so I can do my research? Or is there a lore bible or something with all this info that I just haven't been able to find? Any help would be super appreciated, thank you

Hi anon!! I'm also new to Arcane (literally became a fan less than two months ago) so I feel like we're in the same boat!! Theorizing about this was a very fun part of brainstorming for my current project, so I'm using this as an excuse to infodump about that part of the process. This might be long. Sorry (not sorry) in advance!

I wanted to write a Viktor character study informed by his experiences with ableism and classism in Piltover (be the change you wish to see in the world, and all that), and I was particularly inspired by this post discussing the specifics of his disability. Obviously, that's the only canonical disability (beyond the terminal illness caused by exposure to the fissures) that Viktor has, but I got to speculating.

There are a lot of conditions caused by poverty, whether from lack of sunlight (obviously rampant in Zaun) or food deserts (also probably common) or other socioeconomic issues. I did some research into what some of these conditions were and assigned some of the most likely ones, given what we know in-universe about living conditions and Viktor's appearance/progression, to Viktor in my series. These additional (non-canonical) conditions are as follows:

Rickets (caused by a Vitamin D deficiency, can result in bowed legs as referenced in the post about his leg, as well as progressive scoliosis if acquired in childhood)

The progressive scoliosis, as caused by the rickets.

Calcium deficiency (coupled with the Vitamin D deficiency, this is a big yikes; also causes slightly yellowed teeth if acquired in childhood. Kind of went on vibe for this one)

Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (This is genetic, not environmental. I thought the leg brace being multi-functional was fun, and earlier drafts of the project had a section in which baby Viktor makes temporary friends by showing off "party tricks" common to those with hypermobility.)

I hope this answers your question! As far as I know, there's no lore bible, just one post that inspired me and some of my own rudimentary research. If anyone else has any additional info they'd like to add, please do! I love dissecting my blorbos.

[disdaidal]

I wanna thank my irl friends who follow me here and also my beloved mutuals as well as followers who still send me kind messages and try to interact with me and my stuff even if I'm bad at doing it myself.

Honestly, things haven't been that great with me lately, so... it means a lot to me. Honestly. <3

[fingertipsmp3]

First volunteering shift tomorrow 😵‍💫

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

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[pears-trinkets]

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[monstersflashlight]

Just the tip (Day 3/8 of 10k followers event)

Minotaur x fem!reader || size kink, soft (but filthy) sex, dirty talk, breeding, oral sex

You are quietly walking through the supermarket one day when you have to climb a shelf because you can’t reach the fucking cereals you want. You are pushing your body up when you slip and brace yourself for impact. But the impact never comes. You feel strong big arms around you and when you look up you are staring into the eyes of the biggest minotaur you’ve ever seen.

From that point on, you see him every time you go to the supermarket, it’s like magic. You are going grocery shopping? He’s walking the aisle like he’s there just for you. Days pass and you can’t stop thinking about how wonderful he is, how pretty… and how fucking big. He insists on helping you get everything from the top shelf, you aren’t exactly little, but he’s so tall and broad and fucking magnificent… You agree. And just like that, you have a new grocery shopping friend.

Your friendship develops from there, you gave him your phone, he texts you when he’s going shopping, you met there. Sometimes you go out for coffee after, sometimes he insists on following you home and helping you put the groceries away… You never thought it was wrong because if felt completely fine, it felt natural and amazing to trust him, to feel cared for. And you think you might be in love.

When he finally asks you out, you say “yes” so fast he starts laughing as you blush like a teenager. He embraces you human body against his big minotaur one and lifts you up, burying his big head in your neck as you grab his horns. The sinful groan he lets out makes you whimper in need, and just like that, you two are horny as fuck and it’s like something broke inside you. A new kind of need awakening.

You go on a date that feels like the longest foreplay you’ve ever felt. The date is fucking fantastic, you two fitting better than puzzle pieces, and you can’t stop thinking how much you want to suck his cock. If he’s somewhat proportionate, he must be huge, and that thought plagues your brain every time you look at him. But you don’t say nothing that day.

You continue dating and going groceries together, and after a month of constant turn-on state, you are casually hanging out in your kitchen putting the groceries away as he sits and looks at you while you two talk.

“What?” He asks when he catches you staring at him for the hundredth time, a big smile in his pretty face. He’s so cute you want to hit him, sometimes. You can’t deal with such adorable being.

You look at him, feeling your cheeks getting hot already. “I- Nothing,” you say, embarrassed to admit you were thinking about his dick, once again. You are in a constant state of sexual frustration since you started dating. You thought it would be more sex and less cuteness, and you aren’t mad about it being cute, but dang, you want his cock so deeply inside of you, you could feel him for days after.

He smirks, grabbing a grape out of the bag and chewing it slowly. “Come on, don’t be shy, tell me.” His absurdly hot face and body look so tantalizing and you feel so ready to climb him like a tree every time you get close to him...

“I- I lowkey… Never mind, it’s too embarrassing.” You look down as you take some more groceries and store them in the cupboard. You hear him getting up and getting closer to you, his heat behind you making you melt against his chest. His strong arms coming around you as you sigh, happily. He turns you around and pecks at your lips, his big eyes making pleading as he says nothing. “Okay, okay, stop using those big eyes on me. I… I was thinking about your dick,” you confess, hiding your face in his chest.

He pulls his fingers under your chin and pushes your face up. He’s looking at you with such tenderness and heat in his eyes that you have to grab at his shirt harder not to fall, your knees weak under you. “Say that again?” He asks, his tone pleadingly.

“We… We’ve been seeing each other for a long time and I… I want to move things further,” you let out slowly, looking at him for any reaction. But his face is completely blank and you start doubting everything about your relationship. The voices in your head are loud as you let out a choked: “It’s okay if it’s too fast, I get it. I know. Shutting up now.” It’s been too little, he doesn’t feel the same, he’s just with you because you are exotic… Your inner monologue is filled with self-doubt.

“No. No, it’s not that,” he says, an edge of self-doubt mirroring yours. You blush hard as you look at him up and down, your brain going a mile per minute and falling into the worst possible scenarios.

“What then?” You ask, neediness bleeding into your voice. “You… You don’t find me attractive?” You finally ask, your self-esteem issues making you want to cry as he looks down at you with the most shocked expression ever.

“What?! Are you insane?!” His growl is so deep and feral that your knees turn into jelly under you.

You grab the edge of the counter not to fall. But you can’t respond with anything before he’s manhandling your body over your kitchen table and pushing all the groceries to the ground. You are about to protest when he leans over your body and starts kissing you senseless. His arms part your legs and he steps between them, his monstrous bulge fitting perfectly against your clothed pussy.

“You want this?” He says as he grinds against you. “Are you sure?” He sounds hesitant, but his dick is so hard against you that you want to scream.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant, trying to grind against him. He growls and rips your clothes off in two fast tugs, leaving you naked over the table, like a sacrifice for the minotaur. And you are more than ready to be devoured.

He pulls his fly open in one tug, probably breaking it in the process, but his movements are frantic. He pushes against you once again, his dick huge against your dripping cunt. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he grunts, his dick leaking precum. Leaking so much of it that you feel it dripping over your wet pussy, making a bigger mess. “I don’t think I would fit, you are so tiny.” He proves his point pressing a finger inside you, making you arch your back and moan loudly. He grunts as he fucks you slowly. His finger feels already so big...

“Just the tip,” you try to argue, wanting nothing more than to be fucked. You know you can take him. At least some of him, but he’s so caring and so worried about you… Always worried. You moan and try to move your hips, but his grip is non-forgiving. You can’t move even a millimeter as he rubs his tip against your wet folds around his finger still buried inside. “Please, please,” you always thought you were above begging, but today you learned a new thing about yourself.

“Just the tip?” He asks, the big head of his cock teasing your entrance. “You are so tight,” he grunts. You feel like he’s going to break you apart as he presses lightly, making you cry out. He pulls back, scared that he hurt you, but you shush him, kissing his snout and grabbing his horns. You know he loves when you play with his horns, he told you how sensitive they were.

“Just the tip,” you repeat. You are already feeling needy and desperate, wanting nothing more but for him to fuck you into oblivion, even if that means you’d be impaled by a giant dick.

“You are soaking,” he groans as he gets in position, making you hot all over. The sounds he makes are so erotic you can’t stop moaning in response.

He starts pushing inside millimeter by millimeter and you feel like your body is being torn. He’s so big, so massive inside of you. You don’t know if you can take him. You don’t know if the tip was already too much for your poor human pussy.

“You feel amazing, such a good little human for me.” He keeps going, shushing your whimpers and telling you how good you feel, how pretty you look stretched around him. “Your pussy is so good, you feel so tight around me. Your pussy feels amazing, best pussy I’ve ever tried, I’m not gonna give you up for anything in the world. You are MINE.” With a roar he pushes a bit deeper, making you cry out.

After that it’s like a switch turns off inside him. Before you realize, he’s slipped a bit more inside. And a bit more. And he’s halfway there when he starts to fuck you in earnest, losing complete control of himself because of how good you feel. You start chanting his name as he keeps hitting deep inside of you. Too much, too deep, but so, so good you can’t stop the tears from falling freely.

He fucks you like a piston, so lost in the pleasure of your body that you can’t even think straight as he goes and goes and goes. You don’t know where his body starts and yours ends. You don’t know what day it is or what’s your own name. You just know his dick pushing far and deep inside of you, harder and harder with each thrust. It’s maddening.

“I’m gonna breed you,” he starts. You groan in response, the idea of being filled to the brim making you hotter than expected. And he keeps going, “I’m gonna come so far inside of you, you are gonna feel me inside for days.” You groan again, rocking your hips against him. “Rub your pretty clit for me, fall apart around my dick, let me feel your pussy milking me.” You scream at his words, overwhelmed.

You obey, rubbing your clit as he fucks you furiously on the table, the wood underneath you creaking under the force of his thrusts. It takes you less than two seconds to come around his shaft, only halfway in, but bigger than anything you’ve ever tried.

“Just like that, yes. Yes. Good little human.” He starts babbling nonsense as he fucks you though your orgasm.

When you are coming down from the extracorporeal experience that is an orgasm with him, you feel the first shoot of his come inside of you. He comes, and comes, and comes a bit more. You feel some come leaking around his dick, you feel so full you don’t know what to do but squirm under him. The movement just makes everything move and you groan, clenching around him as he grunts.

He pulls out after what feels like an eternity hugging each other, your pussy feels raw and abused. You whimper when he touches you, so tender and fucked out, but he doesn’t really care, a dazed look in his eyes as he looks at your leaking pussy. You push your body up on your elbows, looking down at him as he kneels on the floor, between your legs. He launches at your pussy, eating you out until he deems you are clean enough. You come three times before he’s done.

And then he takes you to bed and does it all over again.

[lostfracturess]

beneath the mistletoe — satoru gojo

having a crush on your brother's best friend is bad enough. having that best friend look better at every family dinner is just cruel. but worst of all? he's noticed your not-so-subtle staring.

It should be illegal how Satoru Gojo manages to look better every goddamn single Christmas dinner.

You watch him over the rim of your glass as he throws his head back laughing at something your aunt just said, the sound rich and warm like honey. And it doesn't help that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, giving you a perfect view of his unfairly handsome forearms.

Your grip tightens on your glass as he runs a hand through those perfect white strands of his, and you catch yourself wondering, not for the first time, if they're as soft as they look.

It's been like this for years now — ever since your brother Suguru first brought his college roommate home for the holidays, Satoru's own family being overseas.

Now he's practically part of the family, showing up to every gathering with that infuriating smile and those stupidly blue eyes that seem to find you no matter where you are in the room.

You deliberately focus on your plate, stabbing a potato with perhaps more force than necessary. But your eyes, the traitors, keep drifting back to him of their own accord. It's frustrating, really.

Almost impossible not to notice the way his white hair falls just so over his forehead, or how his jaw flexes when he's deep in thought, or the way his throat moves when he takes a sip of wine.

Not that you're looking at his throat.

You're not.

(You totally are.)

And then, because the universe hates you, he catches you staring.

Those blue eyes lock with yours across the table, and his lips curl into a faint smile that makes your stomach flip. You nearly choke on your wine, quickly averting your gaze to study the tablecloth like it's the most fascinating thing you've ever seen.

"Stop staring at my best friend," Suguru whispers as he passes behind your chair.

Shit. Was it that obvious?

After dinner, you escape to the back porch, needing some air that isn't thick with the scent of cinnamon and Satoru's cologne. The winter night is crisp and clear, your breath forming little clouds in the darkness.

You're not surprised when you hear the door open behind you, or when the familiar scent of cigarette smoke wafts your way.

"Those things will kill you, Suguru," you say without turning around.

"That's what I keep telling him," Satoru's voice chimes in, and you turn to find them both strolling onto the porch, your stomach dropping. Suguru takes another deliberate drag of his cigarette, maybe just to spite you both, while Satoru wrinkles his nose.

"Speaking of things that might kill you," Satoru says, "how's that final year of college treating you?"

You try to focus on the question, but it's difficult when the porch light is hitting his eyes just right, making them look impossibly bluer and you have to resist the urge to melt under his gaze.

"It's fine," you manage, aiming for nonchalant. "Just trying to survive my thesis."

"Ah, your thesis." His lips quirk up in that stupidly attractive way of his. "What was your topic again? Something about modern interpretations of folklore?"

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You mentioned it exactly once, months ago, during summer break. You hadn't expected him to remember.

"Japanese urban legends and their evolution through social media," you correct him, trying not to read too much into the fact that he remembered at all. "Though at this point, it's more like about my own evolution into madness."

Suguru snorts, flicking ash off his cigarette. "Please, you're the only person I know who actually enjoys research. I've seen your color-coded spreadsheets."

"Some of us like being organized," you shoot back.

As if on cue, your aunt's voice carries from inside. "Suguru! Can you come help your father with something?"

Suguru sighs, crushing his cigarette under his heel before heading inside, leaving you alone with Satoru. And suddenly the porch feels much smaller than it did a moment ago.

Great.

"So," Satoru says, shifting closer until his arm brushes yours. "Going to tell me why you've been watching me all night?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "I haven't—"

"You're not as subtle as you think," he interrupts. "I can feel you glaring holes into the back of my head whenever I'm around."

"I don't glare," you protest weakly.

"No?" His voice drops lower as he steps closer, backing you against the porch railing. "Then what would you call it?"

You swallow hard, trying to ignore how good he smells up close. "Curious observation?"

He laughs, the sound sending warmth spreading through your chest despite the cold. "Is that what we're calling it now?" Then his eyes flick up. "Would you look at that?"

You follow his gaze to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the porch ceiling, definitely not there earlier today. You're going to kill your mother. Or your aunt. Or your cousin.

Maybe all of them.

"We don't have to—" you start to say, but Satoru's already leaning in, moving into your space with that casualness he's always had, like being this close to you is the most natural thing in the world.

"I've been waiting for an excuse to kiss you since sophomore year," he murmurs. "Please don't ruin this for me."

Oh.

Oh.

His lips meet yours before you can process that confession, soft and warm and tasting faintly of the mulled wine from dinner. Your hands find their way to his chest as he cups your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he kisses you like he's been thinking about it for years.

And the truth is, he has.

When you finally break apart, his forehead resting against yours, you say, "Suguru's never going to let us live this down."

"Worth it." Satoru smiles, stealing another quick kiss. "Though I should probably thank him for the mistletoe."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew. Who do you think helped him put it up?"

You smack his chest, but he just catches your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Merry Christmas to me," he says with a wink.

And despite yourself, you can't help but smile back. "Merry Christmas, you idiot."

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[aurorawhisperz]

You’re All I Need (r.c.)

contains: swearing, angst, mentions of pregnancy, family drama.

father!rafe x mother!reader

a/n: if this goes well and finds its way into my busy schedule, i’ll turn this into a series! and guess who just hit the two-decade mark.. 🎉🎂

summary: you’re sick, exhausted, and barely holding it together while caring for your daughter, juno, alone. desperate, you call rafe, your ex and her father, for help.

who am i to want you now that you’re leaving?

•

almost a year ago, you and rafe had gotten into a big fight over the summer that left both of you saying things that couldn’t be taken back. by the time he was gone, you thought it was over for good. he stormed off and it felt like the end.

that was the same summer you found out you got knocked up.

when you finally told him about the baby, he swore he wanted to be there, for both of you. but you couldn’t do it. you didn’t his half-assed attempts at playing family. so you told him he could be in the baby’s life, but not yours.

the day your daughter was born, nothing felt real. you named her juno, inspired by a movie you’d watched a hundred times during your pregnancy. you didn’t need rafe there that day. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

and for a while, that worked. until tonight.

the fever is unbearable, heat radiating from your body as you lean against the wall to steady yourself, your legs trembling beneath you.

juno cries loudly, sharp and continuous, her small fists waving in anger from her playpen. juno was only a few months old, but the sounds she made tonight seem louder than anything, or maybe it is the throbbing in your head that is making everything clearer.

you tried to calm her down—rocking her, even her close until your arms felt like they might give out but your fever had drained every ounce of strength out of you.

rafe was in the middle of a business call when his phone rang. he saw your name on the caller ID and immediately sensed that something was off. he excuses himself from the meeting and quickly picks up.

“what’s up?" he asks, his voice filled with concern and curiosity. “do you wanna have juno tonight?”you ask, not entirely aware of what you’re doing. “i don’t don’t know..I’m just..” then you sigh. “she’s been saying ‘dada’ all day and she refuses to eat.”

rafe winced at the loud noise. juno’s cries are clearly heard from the other end. it was clear that you were having a hard time, and he felt concerned for both you and juno.

“yeah, ‘course, i’ll take her.” he replies quickly, then rafe doesn’t waste any time. telling some lame excuse to his clients, gathering his things and completely bailing on the group of people in the meeting room.

the drive to your place felt excruciatingly long, but he kept his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible. rafe offered you and juno a spot at tanneyhill but since you were too petty towards him at that time, you declined.

He rushes to his car, his mind racing with thoughts about you and Juno. The drive to your place feels excruciatingly long, but he keeps his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible.

finally, he reaches your home and practically jumps out of the car, making his way to the door and banging on it urgently.

"(name)? it’s me! open up!" he calls out, the sound of juno’s cries echoing in his ears.

when you open the door, rafe’s eyes slightly widen in worry at your appearance. he could see the paleness in your face and the exhaustion in your eyes. he quickly steps inside, his eyes scanning the room for juno.

"are you alright?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "you look absolutely exhausted. what’s going on with you?”

“i’m fine, she’s in my room..” and rafe saw all the tell-tale signs of a fever as he watched you lay down on the couch. he knows you’re not as ‘fine’ as you claim but doesn’t push the issue for now.

a year ago, rafe cameron was chaos incarnate. consumed by his demons, or maybe he was the demon. the outer banks was his kingdom, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, the rafe walking up the stairs to go see your daughter isn’t the same man you walked away from last summer.

decades of being ward cameron’s son don’t just vanish but having a daughter changed rafe in many ways no one thought was possible. he’s more conscious, more quiet, like he’s constantly trying to prove more to himself than to everyone that he was better than the man who raised him.

you’ve seen him with juno, the way he holds her like she’s the only thing that matters in the world.

rafe watches you as you lie down on the couch, he frowns when he sees how weak you look.

he turns and heads straight to the room where juno is crying. he walks over to the crib and leans over, gently scooping up the little girl, holding her close to his chest.

"hey, little one," he coos, his voice soft and soothing. "your dad’s here." juno immediately stops crying as rafe picks her up, her small body calming at the familiarity of his touch and voice. rafe rocks her in his arms, gently shushing her and whispering words of comfort.

"there you go," he murmurs, his fingers gently stroking her soft hair. "no more cries now, i’ve got you."

he walks back to the living room, holding juno close to his chest as he approaches you on the couch.

"hey," rafe says softly, his tone showing concern. "you really don't look well." he moves closer, gently resting a hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. as he suspected, your skin was hot to the touch.

you look up to see him with juno on his hip. “just take care of her for the night.” and your eyes nearly flutter shut.

rafe saw through the way your eyes struggled to stay open. he saw how sick you truly were, but you're trying so hard to hide it.

"damn it," he mutters, his voice tight with worry and frustration. "baby, you’re in no condition to take care of juno on your own right now. you need to rest, and i can't just leave knowing you're not okay."

rafe reluctantly looks down at juno in his arms, her tiny face looking up at him with wide trusting eyes. he then glances back at you, still lying on the couch, weakness written all over your face.

"i will," he replies firmly. "but first, I'm putting you to bed. you need to rest and get better. then I'll take care of the baby."

he heads up and carefully sets juno on the crib for a moment and then walks downstairs, over to the couch, gently scooping you up in his arms.

“put me down..” you whine. "no" rafe replies firmly, his grip on you tightening slightly. "you’re burning up with a damn fever. no condition to be worrying about juno right now." he carries you towards your bedroom, his arms holding you securely against his chest. though you protest, he ignores your weak struggles.

once he reaches your bedroom, he gently lays you down on the bed, making sure you're comfortable and settled. he pulls the covers up over you, tucking you in and smoothing back your hair from your forehead.

looking down at you, he can see how exhausted you really are, the fever taking a toll on your body. but his focus quickly shifts to the crib where juno is starting to cry again, her hunger growing stronger.

rafe watches you for a moment, concerned. the feeling of your skin under his touch tells him how high your fever really is. he glances over at the crib, juno’s cries growing louder.

"stay right here," he instructs you firmly. "i’ll feed our baby, then i’m coming back to check on you."

with a sigh, rafe picks juno up from the crib and brings her to the kitchen. he goes through the motions of preparing a bottle for juno, mixing the formula with warm water and shaking it gently until it's ready. he then sits down next to your bed, leaning back against the headboard while he carefully feeds juno the bottle.

his eyes occasionally flick to you, checking on your condition. even though he's busy feeding the baby, he keeps a watchful eye on you, noticing every shiver and every sign of discomfort in your sick state.

after a few minutes, juno is satisfied, her tiny belly full and content. she starts to drift off in rafe’s arms, her small eyes growing heavy.

he carefully passes the baby back to the crib and turns his attention back to you. he returns to your bedside and sits down, his eyes studying your pale and weary face. the sight of you in this state was devouring him from the inside.

your eyes flutter open. “rafe, take her to your house..” then you turn to the side, your back facing him.

rafe looks down at you, gently taking your hand in his own, it broke his heart a little. the fact that you're asking him to take juno now.

"baby," he murmurs, his voice gentle. "you’re still burning up. i can't just leave with juno while you're like this."

it was always like this with rafe. back then, whenever you didn’t want him to care for you, when you pushed him away, built your walls high, and told him you didn’t need him, he’d force it anyway. he had this annoying way of ignoring your protests, showing up when you least expected it with that hot stubborn determination in his eyes.

if you were sick, he’d be at your door with soup, even if he didn’t know how to make it. if you were upset, he’d sit next to you in silence, waiting until you caved. it didn’t matter how hard you tried to convince him you were fine; rafe never listened. he cared in the only way he knew how to care; recklessly, even when you swore you didn’t want him to. that part of him hasn’t changed at all.

“come on, she’s your only priority at the moment.” you try sending him away. his grip on your hand tightened a little at your words. “don't be fucking ridiculous," he retorts, his voice stern. "juno will be fine with me at my house. but you're not. you’re sick and need rest and care. i’m not just gonna abandon you like this. not happening."

“you don’t have to stay anyway… you’re not my husband or boyfriend or anything. you’re just her dad.”

rafe bites down at your words. he knows he’s nothing more to you than juno’s dad, but hearing you say it so bluntly still stings.

“no, i’m not your husband or boyfriend,” he replies, his tone sharper than intended. “but damn it, i still care about you, even if you don’t want me to.”

before you can respond, a shiver racks your body, your fever making you tremble. rafe notices immediately, his frustration giving way to concern.

“jesus, you’re burning up,” he mutters, leaning closer to place the back of his hand on your forehead. “why didn’t you tell me you were this bad?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. standing up, he moves to the kitchen, returning with a cool cloth. he gently presses it against your forehead, his jaw tight with worry.

“you’re in no condition to be alone right now,” he says firmly. “especially not with a fever this high. you need someone to take care of you, whether you like it or not.”

“take her,” you whisper, your voice weak. “i can take care of myself. you don’t have to do both.”

“damn it, will you just listen to me for once?” rafe snaps, his voice low but laced with irritation. “you’re not fine. you’re barely holding it together, and you want me to just walk away? why are you so goddamn stubborn?”

“i don’t need your help,” you insist, glaring at him weakly. “just watch juno. that’s all.”

rafe exhales sharply, trying to keep his temper in check.

“what’s it gonna take for you to get it through your head that you need support too?” he demands. “i care about both you and juno, you idiot. why can’t you just let me help you when you clearly need it?”

“and why does this concern you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. his eyes narrow at your question, frustration bubbling over again.

“why do you think it concerns me?” he bites out, his voice rough. “you really have to ask that? you think i don’t care about you? you think i only see you as juno’s mom?”

you manage a breathy smirk, too weak to move but pleased nonetheless. “i knew it… son of a bitch.”

“knew what?” he challenges, his tone sharp. “that i actually give a damn about you more than you think? if you know, then why are you still fighting me on this? why are you so damn stubborn about letting me help?”

your smirk stays on your face, though your eyelids are already drooping from exhaustion.

“yeah, i care about you,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “you drive me absolutely fucking insane with how stubborn you are, but i still care. happy now?”

when you don’t respond, too tired to argue anymore, he shakes his head and adjusts the cool cloth on your forehead.

“i’m not leaving,” he says, and there’s no point in arguing. “someone has to take care of you since you clearly can’t be trusted to do it yourself.”

the room feels smaller with him in it, like his presence is closing in on you from all sides. he settles next to you, the mattress dipping slightly, and it’s awkward, too close for comfort, too familiar for what you are now. exes. nothing more.

“you’re gonna get sick,” you mumble, your voice scratchy and weak. “you don’t have to do this.”

“don’t care,” he says, not even looking at you. his voice is calm, steady. “you’re burning up. if i get sick, so what?”

you try to sit up, even though your body feels like it’s made of lead and your head pounds with every slight movement. the fever’s still got you in its grip, but lying there next to rafe feels like too much. too intimate. too close.

but the second you push yourself up, the world tilts. your balance wavers, and before you can steady yourself, your head drops against something solid.

his shoulder.

rafe lets out an annoyed sigh as he watches you struggle to get up, knowing full well that you're too weak to stand on your own.

"damn it, woman," he mutters as you collapse back onto him. "what did I tell you? you’re supposed to be resting, not trying to get up and walk around like a lunatic."

he gently wraps his arm around you, supporting your weakened body against him.

"just stay still and don't move," he whispers. "you’re in no condition to be up and about. you need to rest and recover. you know i’ll take care of you, right? stop trying to do everything on your own."

rafe gently runs his fingers through your hair, his touch light and soothing.

your hand finds its way to rafe’s arm, fingers gripping him weakly, as if holding on to him will keep you steady. rafe freezes at the touch, his gaze dropping to where your hand rests against his skin. it’s a simple gesture, but it feels like everything all at once.

he doesn’t pull away. instead, he shifts slightly, his own hand coming up to gently squeeze yours, his grip warm and steady, like he’s anchoring you.

“you’ll get better,” he murmurs. “just give it time and let yourself rest. let me look after you for once, okay?”

you think about the way things used to be. sneaking off when you had the chance, meeting him at the beach under the cover of darkness. stolen kisses, the kind that made your heart race. rafe was always the one who pushed boundaries, the one who made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

“are you sleeping over?” you ask weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

rafe looks down at you, the question pulling him out of his thoughts. he takes in your pale face, the tired lines around your eyes, and sighs. part of him wants to say no, to avoid whatever this is turning into, but he knows he can’t leave you like this.

“yeah,” he says finally, his tone gentle but firm. “yeah, i’m sleeping here. someone needs to keep an eye on your stubborn ass so you don’t try to do chores at three in the morning.”

you let out a weak laugh, but it fades quickly. “you shouldn’t be here,” you mutter, shaking your head slightly. “it’s—it’s awkward. it’ll just make things weird.”

rafe arches a brow, his lips twitching into something between a smirk and a frown. “why are you acting like something’s gonna happen between us?” he counters, his tone light but laced with something deeper. “it’s fine. stop overthinking it and just… lay down. you’re not gonna win this argument.”

before you can protest, he gently guides you back down, his hand steady at your back. the warmth of his body against yours is impossible to ignore, but you’re too drained to fight it.

then, out of nowhere, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. the gesture is so tender it takes your breath away, but you’re too tired to react.

as your eyelids grow heavier, your mind drifts back to the first time rafe said he loved you. it wasn’t in a quiet, romantic moment, it was in the middle of an argument. his voice had been loud, angry and raw, but it was real. rafe always let things spill out when he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

now, as sleep pulls you under, you hear his voice again, quieter this time.

“i miss you,” he whispers.

you don’t respond. maybe you’re too far gone, maybe you don’t want to. but maybe you miss him too.