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queen-haq · 10 months

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Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 3)

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

Part 3

You removed your glasses and started massaging the knot in your temple that seemed to have lodged inside your head permanently. Exhaling a heavy sigh, you laid your head down on the table. It wouldn’t be easy, you always knew that, but a part of you hadn’t realized how much work would be needed to actually build a clinic in the neighbourhood you grew up in. And this assessment was only the first step! After you completed this, that’s when the real work would begin.

Your phone vibrated and you reached out to grab it. It was the alarm you set to start getting ready for the dinner tonight. Fuck. Alistair was hosting a dinner for you and Billy, but you knew it was an excuse to check up on the two of you. You were already dreading it, imagining how stifling it would be. The last time you had met his family was at the wedding, and they had all looked at you like you were something to be afraid of. To them, you were the other – not rich, not white, not thin, and definitely not someone who was a part of the elite and affluent community they were a part of. And you would never be any of those things, so there was no point in trying to adjust your personality to fit in. Which was why you decided to go with a red jumpsuit to this dinner.

An hour later you were applying finishes touches to your makeup when you heard Billy’s voice in the kitchen. He was talking to Anita, the woman who came to clean the apartment every day. You went to the door, eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Gwen’s not gonna be around anymore, Anita,” he explained.

His voice was gentle, lacking the heavy condescension that was usually directed at you.

“Good, I don’t like her.” The elder lady retorted. “She was very rude!”

He chuckled.

“And it’s not right, you still bringing your girlfriends here when you’re married now. What about your wife?”

“Who gives a fuck?”

Ah, there it was. The biting edge in his tone whenever you were mentioned. You headed out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen.

“She’s a nice lady!” Anita chastised.

“She’s a goddamn bitch.”

“Talking about me again, sweetie?” You sauntered into the kitchen, wearing an amused smile.

Anita immediately looked embarrassed at being caught but not Billy. Dressed in a perfectly tailored light grey suit, the colour making his pitch black eyes appear even more prominent, he stared back at you with a smug expression. “Speak of the devil and she doth appear.”

“Hush now, Billy,” Anita admonished him.

“First a bitch, now the devil. What’s next?”

“I’ve got some real sweet ones lined up. Just you wait.” He quirked up his eyebrow, eyes regarding your outfit carefully. “It’s black and white dress code.”

You shrugged. “It’s dinner with your family, not the fucking President.”

Billy shook his head. “So hellbent on being a total fucking embarrassment.”

“Billy, stop!” Anita turned to you, her cheeks a deep shade of crimson. “I’m so sorry-”

“It’s fine, Anita. Not your fault. This is just how he likes to sweet-talk me.”

He snickered. “In your fucking dreams.”

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” Anita said, giving you a warm smile. “Red really suits you.”

“Thank you.” While you walked over to the fridge to grab water, you sensed Billy watching you. When you turned around, his gaze shifted from you right away. If he didn’t make his dislike of you so obvious, you would have wondered if he was checking you out. Maybe he was one of those assholes that put down thick women but had a secret fetish for them. Not that you found the notion remotely flattering, it was insulting really.

“The old man doesn’t like being disobeyed,” Billy finally spoke.

You sneered. “You worried about me?”

“I don’t want your stupidity to blow back on me.”

“Don’t worry, I can handle assholes.” Your head dipped to the side, you gave him a beaming smile. “I married you, didn’t I?”

A gasp escaped Anita, she appeared to be scandalized by your words. Seeing the shock on the older woman’s face, you started laughing. As did Billy, much to your surprise. Your eyes scanned over his face, taking in his smile. Damn. He really was fucking gorgeous.

Such a shame that kind of hotness was wasted on a jerk like him.

Suddenly his gaze met yours, the smile on his face fading. He stared at you, stoic and intense, like he was trying to suck the life out of you through the sheer force of his eyes. You turned away, refusing to indulge in this kind of powerplay with him. “Anita, I’m having some people come over on Friday. Think we can stock up on some drinks?”

“Yes, of course,” Anita said, smiling. “I can prepare some menus if you like, give you a few options. I’ll hire some waitstaff-”

“God, no. Don’t bother. It’s nothing important.”

“But what about food? What will your guests eat?” Anita asked.

“I’ll order in some stuff.”

“Are you sure?”

The concern on Anita’s face made you chuckle. “Yeah. We’ll be fine.”

Your phone buzzed, and you glanced down at the text message notification.

“In town soon. Wanna meet?”

“See you later, Anita.”

You walked out of the kitchen, already texting back. “How long you around?”

Calvin was a friend you met in college, someone who you hooked up with occasionally. While the two of you always had fun, it was never serious and that’s how you both preferred it.

“Think you own this place?” Billy’s voice captured your attention away from the phone. He sauntered past you, his strut confident, hands tucked into his pockets, before he took a seat on the couch. Arrogance rolled off him in waves, he exuded rich privilege from head to toe as his onyx eyes regarded you with scorn.

“I live here,” you replied, eyebrow cocked.

“For now.”

You smirked. “Aw, you pissed I didn’t ask for your permission?”

“I don’t want your golddigging friends infesting this place.”

His cockiness made you laugh, and you felt that oh-so-familiar need to taunt him further. You sashayed forward, your sexiest walk on full display because you knew how much it would irritate him. Already you saw his jaw clench, noted how his eyes burned with contempt as you took a seat on the arm of the couch he was on. Leaning over him, you gave him your sexiest smirk. “You sure that’s all it is?” You lowered your head, so close you felt his breath hum against your skin. “Maybe what you’re really worried about is flexing for my friends. Maybe you know they’re not gonna be impressed by you.”

Billy’s pitch-black eyes remained glued to yours, inhaling you in. “A lion doesn’t concern himself with the opinion of sheep.”

You reached out to grip his jaw, the action taking him by surprise if the arced eyebrow was any indication. God, he had a beautiful jawline, his facial hair perfectly trimmed, his skin smooth. “Is that what you think you are, Billy? A lion?” You tightened your grip. “Because all I see is a fucking snake when I look at you.”

It happened quickly, so quickly that you barely had time to register what he was doing when he clutched the back of your head. He fisted your hair so tightly that it almost hurt, pulling you close against him. You were crushed against his chest, whatever advantage you had now gone.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch me again.”

His voice was quiet, which made his words even more dangerous. He didn’t need to scream or yell to get his point across. Seeing his reaction, you instantly regretted your actions. Maybe he was someone who was triggered by physical contact, it was common enough in people and you had dealt with it a few times when caring for patients. You released your grip on him, but he didn’t follow suit, still holding you securely in place.

In your experience, people who didn’t like being touched were also careful to respect others’ boundaries. That didn’t seem to be the case with Billy, recalling the night of your wedding when he’d threatened you. “You put your hands on my throat and choked me,” you reminded him.

“But you liked that, golddigger. You were begging for it.”

God, his fucking cockiness was infuriating! You shoved him hard, forcing him to loosen his hold immediately and you jumped back to distance yourself. There you were trying to be nice, and he just completely stomped all over your compassionate gesture. “Asshole!”

He grinned, crossing his legs and looking so smug and pleased with himself you wanted to throw something at him.

Everything – everything – about him annoyed the fuck out of you. “Fuck off and die, Billy!”

He laughed, eyes shining with wicked delight.

“And stay out of my way on Friday! I don’t want my guests dealing with you!” you huffed before stomping out of the room.

The nerve of him! You were so pissed you could barely even think straight, but you needed to conserve your energy for tonight. Taking a deep breath, you returned to your room to finish getting ready.

***

The atmosphere was strained, the tension in the room palpable. Alistair sat at the head of the table, commanding everyone’s attention, while the rest of the family appeared downright miserable. One by one he’d gone around the table, picking apart each person under the guise of doling out helpful advice with everyone dreading the spotlight when it fell upon them. Alistair was very practiced with his criticism; he didn’t resort to yelling or screaming. Instead his words were laced with poison and deliberately targeted one’s most vulnerable spots. A part of you felt sorry for them, which was funny considering how rich they were and that you grew up in the ghetto. But at least you were brought up in a loving home, unlike these people.

You surveyed the room, taking in Billy’s family. Along with Alistair, his parents were present and some of Billy’s cousins. As an outsider, you had a chance to observe the family dynamic and it didn’t surprise you that the camaraderie they put on display was just a show. As you eavesdropped on their conversation, you could hear them talking shit and selling each other out. Underneath the polite exterior, they were all snakes – just like Alistair. The only exception, surprisingly, was Billy.

He kept to himself for most of the night, simply examining the family from the sidelines. Just like you. Occasionally your gaze would land on him and you found him staring back at you intently each time, but you weren’t in a mood to fuck with him. You were still annoyed from earlier, and it didn’t help that the family was obviously gossiping about you.

Both Billy and you had chosen to ignore the dress code, which probably seemed like it was intentionally planned but definitely wasn’t. His light grey suit stood out in the sea of black and white, just like your red jumpsuit, but his outfit didn’t elicit as many looks as yours did. But, whatever. You had purposely chosen this outfit. If you were going to be the subject of gossip anyway, you might as well give them something to talk about.

It was Alistair’s voice that brought you out of your reverie. Your stomach clenched with nervous anxiety as Alistair’s attention slowly approached your side of the table. Half of the family looked obliterated, the other half drunk. Billy was seated next to you, and a part of you wondered what was going through his head. Was he used to this? Did he even realize how fucked up his whole family was?

“It’s unfortunate you didn’t choose to meet Howard for lunch yesterday, Billy.”

You cast a quick glance at Billy. Unlike the rest of his family, he didn’t seem bothered or nervous by Alistair’s cutting tone.

“Is it?” Billy replied, taking a sip of his wine.

“He’s a very busy man and he agreed to meet you as a favour to me.”

“Maybe you should check before you make plans for me,” Billy responded.

Oh, Alistair didn’t like that.

“Do you know how humiliating it was for me to ask someone like Howard for his assistance? He’s a gnat, he’s nothing. Yet I had to reach out to him so he could guide you-”

“And how many times have I said I’m not interested in joining politics, Grandfather? I have no fucking interest in it, I don’t give a shit about it.”

Alistair slammed his hand down on the table. A silent hush fell over the room. “You will do as I say! I will not let you be another loser in this family. I will not accept that! You’re destined to be more than just some foot soldier. This family’s full of idiots, everyone has been a goddamn disappointment! But not you, you’re better than that. You’re my legacy and I will not let your stupidity and stubbornness get in the way of making something of yourself. You will not waste-”

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked, interrupting the old man’s tirade. “A foot soldier? He’s a marine! He’s gone out on three tours and risked his life over and over again to keep this country safe. He’s probably saved countless lives and done more for people than anyone around this table. What have you done? What have you accomplished other than being borne into a rich family?” Fired up, your blood was boiling with rage. “And you’re criticizing him for wasting his life? Why? Because he doesn’t want to be a slimy politician? Your fucking puppet?”

“How dare you speak to me like that?” Alistair roared.

“How dare you? You think I’m just gonna sit here and listen while you yell at my husband?” You scanned the people around the table, noticing their stunned gazes, the fear and shock in their eyes as they glared at you. “Maybe everyone here is scared shitless of you because you hold the purse strings but that doesn’t give you the right to dictate others’ lives. Billy’s an adult. He’s made his own choices, good choices. Just because you don’t agree with them doesn’t make them bad decisions.” You glanced down, shaking your head with irritation. It was then you noticed Billy’s hand covering your right thigh under the table, slowly caressing your skin as if he was trying to soothe your nerves. During your outburst you hadn’t noticed when his hand slid over but now it was all you could feel, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

Alistair’s face was flushed red with anger. “The only reason you’re a part of this family, why you’re at this table, is because I allowed you to be here.”

What the hell were you doing? You had better things to do than take part in Russo family problems. This was not your circus, not your monkeys. If they wanted to eat each other alive, so be it. “And that’s my cue to leave. I’ve had enough of you guys for today.”

Easing Billy’s hand from your thigh, you stood up. Your glass was half-full and you didn’t see the point in wasting the excellent wine. You chugged it in one gulp, clinked your glass in an imaginary cheer to the room before placing it back on the table, and then walked out.

As soon as you exited the space, you felt your stomach uncoil. All that nervous anxiety left your body in one big whoosh, you took a deep breath. Holy shit. You were never more grateful for your own family as you were at that moment.

***

Half an hour later you entered your high-rise building, greeting the doorman as you made your way to the elevator. When the doors opened you slid in and scanned the key card that gave you access to the penthouse. The elevator doors were closing when all of a sudden someone waved their hand halfway in, forcing the doors to open again. You looked up to see Billy walking in, dark eyes holding you hostage. You averted his gaze, pressing the close button again.

As soon as the elevator started moving, he marched towards you. You watched him confusedly as he closed the distance, forcing you to retreat until you were backed into a corner, his body encroaching every inch of your personal space.

You swallowed audibly, returning his hostile stare.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.” His voice was raspy, somehow soft and yet menacing. “I can stand up for myself.”

You sneered. “You think I did it for you?” You jut your chin out defiantly. “I don’t like bullies and your grandfather is a fucking bully. It had nothing to do with you. I would’ve stood up for anyone, it just happened to be you.”

The molten darkness of his gaze trailed down to your lips, as if following every micro change in your expression. Like he was trying to consume you, understand you. “Except you didn’t stand up for the rest of my family. Only me.”

He had a point, but you weren’t going to admit that. “Step back, Billy.”

Billy didn’t withdraw, he continued to hold firm. Your eyes lingered from his face, taking in his firm jaw, the graceful length of his neck, noting how the top button of his collared shirt was undone. A soft breath escaped your lips when his hands slid up the sides of your legs, your waist, trailing up languidly.

You pressed your hand against his chest, intending to push him off.

When his hand covered your own in a surprising gesture, his skin felt hot against your touch. You didn’t understand what he was doing, why he wouldn’t move. Maybe it was a ploy to get you to break but there was something else in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. A kind of vulnerability that left you breathless. Not something you wanted to deal with. “I said move back.”

“This isn’t gonna happen, sweetheart,” he murmured.

Not golddigger. Sweetheart. It was meant to be sarcastic, you were sure of it, but instead the word was pure seduction on his lips, intoxicating. And oddly tender.

“You’re not going to claw your way inside my head. I won’t let you.” It was a warning, a threat, temptation wrapped in danger.

“That’s the last thing I want,” you said, surprised at how resolute you sounded and not at all the quivering mess you felt inside.

He didn’t say anything in response. There was no sarcasm, no scorn, no signs of anger or derision even. Just stark seriousness.

“Stay the fuck away from me.”

He turned around and walked out, leaving you perplexed. You hadn’t realized the elevator reached your floor, all of your senses overwhelmed by Billy’s close proximity. The subtle notes of his cologne still lingered in the air and you took a few seconds to calm your nerves. Not until you heard the door slam to your penthouse did you exit the elevator and head inside.

A/N - Hope you guys are enjoying the fic! Would love to hear your thoughts if you have the time. Comments are loved and cherished :)

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #the punisher #grudgingly yours #ben barnes

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coralseacourt · 4 months

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Undeniably Yours Part 2 by @coralseacourt

Summery: A girl falling through darkness into a world of fae, landing right in Hybern’ s Throne room. Azriel finding his mate but not wanting her. Rhysand’s & feyre’s bond severed for good. What else could go wrong? Azriel x Reader x Rhysand

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part6, Part7,

Part 2:

Voices. I had been sitting in this room for the last two days , since the huge winged creature with the shadows had dropped me off here.

His eyes had been like steel.

His hands had been ice cold.

He had bled and seemed in pain. But with no word and no explanation, he had put me in this room with the bright pastel colors and since then nothing .

And I felt .Numb.

No one tried to disturb me until now. I could hear their voices on the other side of my door.

Would they come in or continue arguing and then leave like they did the last couple days?

The noise of a soft knock ripped me out of my trance. The door started opening and I leaned my head slightly to the side. Owl like. My body didn’t feel human anymore.

Everything just felt mechanic.

A tall man with black hair and violet eyes entered.

Beautiful.

The leader of this group I had guessed. He looked at me with soft eyes giving me a kind smile.

But was it real?

“Good evening. I did not want to disturb you, but it is important that I talk to you. Get more,” he paused “ information about you.”

The only thing I could do was blink. My head felt empty like the black water I was thrown out of.

“ I know it must be difficult for you to understand what happened.” He continued ,” But maybe we could start with your Name?”

I wrinkled my forehead in confusion.

My name? What was my Name? Did I had one? I just shook my head . Not knowing what to say. “ My name is Rhysand, but you can call me Rhys if you like. “

With quiet steps he came closer to the little window seat I was sitting in and bend down on his knees in front of me .

“If you are not able to talk, or don’t want to , would you allow me to look in your memories?”

My memories? What did he mean? In my head? Was that possible? I gave him a little nod.

Curious to see what would happen. Would he be able to find out my Name? Would I have memories?

His eyes were a little brighter now like deep purple pools of starlight.

He gave me a little reassuring smile before I could feel something crawling or more floating in my head like black smoke curios but pushing to the same time.

I watched his facial expression go from neutral to confused. What did he see?

“Interesting.”

Confusion changed to Concentration, and I couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful inhuman face.

To perfect.

Nothing that was not sculpted by the gods. It made me uncomfortable for the soley reason that humans had uneven skin.

Pores ,beauty marks,scars but him?

Nothing.

Humans? How did I know about this but not my name?

Am I a human?

No. I don’t think so . Earlier in the Morning when I had washed myself in the attached bathroom I looked like him.

My blond long hair perfectly curling over my back. Not one single curl out of order . My eyes green with golden flecks that seemed to colorful, to bright, to alive. And my ears sharply shaped.

“Well, not much to be seen . But at least we have a name.” He said with a little chuckle. I looked at him expectantly.

“y/n. It’s a pretty name too. I’ve never heard a name like that.” Y/n that was what I was called ? It seemed to fit like a missing puzzle piece. I turned my face from his curious eyes and stared out the window.

Beneath me a city with thousands of bright lights and a warm atmosphere. I opened my mouth a bit running my tongue over my bottom lip.

“y/n” I tested it slowly out . My voice surprised me. Very high so feminine and inhuman. A little chuckle made me look back to the man in front of me.

“We have Dinner in a little bit if you like to join us?” Should I? He seemed nice enough. So I nodded.

“Yes.” I whispered to quietly for him to hear, not used to my voice.

“Yes, I … I would like that Rhysand.” I gave him a shy smile not sure if I said his name correct.

“Rhys, just call me Rhys. “ he stared a couple more moments fascinated at me before he stood up and walked out. In the time that the door had completely closed a sudden wind blew through the room and made me look in the direction of my bed where a beautiful dark green dress laid, like it always had been there.

………………….}••••••••••••••••••••{…………………

I was standing in front of the Mirror.

Starring.

The green dress was fitting perfectly.

It was long and tight with small stripes over my shoulders.

I swirled just watching the color shift and float until there was a knock.

“Yes?” The door swung open with to much force and my heart started to race.

The winged man was standing there with an unpleasant expression on his face, like he tasted something he didn’t like.

“Are you coming?” He hissed at me. My palms started to sweat and I left a shaky breath while nodding.

“Of course.” I whispered quietly and followed him out of the room.

We walked with a fast pace I almost couldn’t follow through a long hallway made out of white marble with long windows .

It lead into an open space with a large Table that was occupied by 5 people one of them I recognized as Rhysand. My stomach felt sick from so much attention on me.

The male that had brought me here sat down next to a beautiful girl with flowers in her hair, while I stopped at the end of the Table.

What should I do?

There were two seats open. Next to Rhysand and on the other side next to the unfriendly winged one.

With shaking hands I took the safer option and walked towards Rhys sitting myself quietly on the chair without looking up.

A low groan came from the other side.

To see if I did something wrong I looked up, but got distracted by the kind male next to me, when he spoke up.

“Good choice y/n .” He chuckled and had a glow in his eyes.

“Really Rhys? You’re confusing the poor girl with your flirting.” Came from a blond woman seated next to me.

“Am I not allowed to flirt a little? I m the High lord am I not?”

“Not when your Mate is stuck in enemy territory.” Came from a sharp tongue.

Probably the Sister of the flower girl. The similarities where unarguably there.

“You should be trying to get her back and not make pretty eyes to someone that is a stranger to us.”

Shame came over me and my face flushed.

I couldn’t understand why she would fire so vial words about me.

Did I choose to be here? But asking myself that question I couldn’t even answer it.

“Nesta if you can’t behave in front of our guest you’re welcome to leave.”

The huge man sitting next to Nesta seemed uncomfortable with the conversation pushing around on the chair like he rather would flee.

“y/n this is my inner circle. Elaine” he pointed to the girl with the flowers on his other side.

“Azriel my spymaster “ the angry looking one and what was a spymaster?

My head leaned automatically to the side and I stared at him curiously.

“Nesta and Cassian “ the angry girl and the male next to her.

“ And Mor my cousin.” The blond next to me gave me a reassuring smile.

“Let’s eat before we discuss more.”

And with just a wave of his hand delicious looking food appeared in front of us.

With big eyes i watched while everyone started pouring food on their dishes.

Rhys grabbed my plate and shuffled food on it while I only could watch him.

A little “oh” escaped my lips and all eyes turned to their High lord watching him with confused facial expressions.

Until a growl came from across the table.

I looked over at Azriel his hands formed to fists his teeth bleched while watching Rhysand.

“I’m sure she can do that on her own, don’t you think .” Why was he so angry ?

“Yes I m sure she can . But why not be nice to someone that didn’t get a lot of kindness since entering a such brutal world?”

That left a couple open mouths and my plate appeared back in front of me loaded with mashed potatoes, green beans, gravy and Roast beef?

“Thank you, I really appreciate the gesture.” I whispered quietly and started eating.

A snort came followed by a

“You have to give her that , at least she is polite.” Came from Cassian. the rest of the Dinner was uneventful.

I only listened to the quiet conversation of everyone.

When all the plates magically disappeared and everyone started to pour themselves drinks.

That’s when I felt a hand grab mine and squeeze it a little bit. Looking up I saw Mor starring at me.

“Do you like shopping? We could go one Day if you like? I know some wonderful boutiques here in velaris.”

I had to blink. Shopping? Would I be allowed to do that?

And if? How would I pay for anything? as if Rhysand read my mind he said.

“That sounds like a blended idea. And no worries you can put it on my name for now.”

“ That is very kind of you to offer I….. I will think about it.”

“You should. We would have a lot of fun , I promise.” She gave me a little wink and took a sip of her wine. I felt uncomfortable with so many people in one room that I didn’t know.

It made my heart race and my stomach flutter. Would now be a appropriate time to flee?

“Do you want me to accompany you to your room or do you find your way alone?” The high lord whispered over to me like we were sharing a secret.

I couldn’t help it and had to giggle.

“I do not want them to torment you for it.” I whispered back. “But thank you for asking.”

He gave me a nod and his eyes twinkled in the reflection of his wine glass.

I silently slipped out of my seat wished everyone a good night and disappeared as fast as I could in direction of my Room.

Before I could reach it Azriel appeared out of nowhere right in front of me, so silently i had to squeak loudly.

With my hand on my racing heart I stared at him. “I m giving you a little warning Blondie, what you do with it is up to you. Stay away from Rhys. Whatever you are planning in that little head of yours , stop it,”

He stepped closer to me until our chests almost touched. Bending down to be on eye level with me he whispered dangerously.

” It’s in your best interest to heave my warning, no one can just snake there way inside of our court like that.”

And with that he disappeared back in to the shadows.

part 1 , part 2, part 3, part 4, part5, part6, part7,

#azriel x oc #acotar fanfic #azriel #azriel acotar #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #rhysand #rhys x y/n #rhys x you

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ssuperficialspacecadett · 11 months

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Reality Check

Chapter Eight of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Nine

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5.2K

Chapter Overview: The morning after & the days that follow your and Frankie's hookup are joyful, but not everyone is joining in on the love

TW: Brief mentions of sexual assault & Brunson (iykyk)

Notes: i got it done by the hair of my chinny chin chin LMAOO ,, honestly i usually ramble in my notes but i dont have a lot to say today (': thank you to everyone who has liked and/or reblogged my story so far ! it means so much !! let me know if you want to be added to the tag list as well !! as usual...my asks are always open & happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

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Frankie’s alarm blares earlier than either of you want it too. Maybe it wouldn’t have felt so early if you had gone to bed sooner. You jump a little when you hear it going off and feel the man holding you stir behind you. The arm that he had wrapped around your waist detaches slowly to silence the unwelcome sound. You smile to yourself as you hear him breathe out deeply and snuggle his body closer to yours under the duvet.

“I sent it to snooze.” He yawns. “We only have a few more minutes of this.”

He is clearly more awake than he sounds as his lips quickly find your shoulder. You stretch your neck out to allow him access and he greedily accepts your invitation.

“I don’t want to go back to reality.” You can feel your heart rate already accelerating as he continues to adorn your skin.

“Let’s stay here, in bed, all day. I have vacation hours, remember?”

“But I don’t.” You sigh and shift your body to where you can look at him. “And Benny can’t manage the gym all by himself anymore.”

As you wait for him to say something, you allow your eyes to wander all over his face. His hair looks so curly and soft against the pillow. His eyes don’t look as sad as they do during the daytime. They appear youthful and doe-like.

“What are you doing?” He smiles.

“I’m trying to memorize what you look like first thing in the morning.” You bring your hand out from under the covers and caress his beard. “Does it always grow like this?” You gingerly brush your thumb over the sparse patch.

“Ever since I can remember. It made shaving easier, but it isn’t the most manly, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Oh? What would you say then?” He pokes at your ribs hidden beneath the sheets.

“I would say that any woman would love their very own special spot to kiss you.”

You lean forward and kiss him softly. Your lips fit perfectly in the patch just like you thought they would.

“But I don’t want any woman to kiss me. I just want one.”

He swallows your mouth with his and you willingly let him. Before you know it, he has you situated on top of him as the two of you kiss. His scent is huskier in the morning. It hasn’t been tainted by a long day of work. You break apart so you can look at him. He doesn’t fight with you as he has a particularly good view of your breasts from how you are sitting. Since he was laying on the left side of his body before, you weren’t able to see how the red flowers you left on his neck have grown this morning. But now you have a clear view.

“Don’t be mad at me, but I think you’re going to have a hard time covering these up.” You reach your hand down and trace each one with your finger. “I might have gotten a little carried away.”

“You weren’t the only one.” His own hand comes up and brushes against your collar bone. The slight pain you feel makes you realize that you didn’t end the night blemish free. “Let’s call it even, hmm?”

“Deal.”

You’re leaning down to kiss him when the alarm goes off again. “Guess it’s time to get moving.” Not one to leave a task unfinished, you place your lips sweetly on the edge of his nose before sliding off his torso to land where you slept. You throw your legs over the side of the bed and stretch your arms high above your head. A soreness in your abs and in between your legs demands to be felt as you use your muscles for the first time since last night. That delicious ache serves as a physical reminder that what happened in this bed is real. That the man lying next to you is real. That this moment is so very real.

It also serves as a reminder that he didn’t pull out. While you knew it was safe, he didn’t. You turn your head over your shoulder and falter at what you see. He’s just staring at you. A childish grin on his face as he holds his head up with his hand. The covers have fallen just above his waist to give you a teasing view of that tummy you have grown so fond of.

“Hey, about last night…” You worry when you see his smile flicker ever so slightly. “I just wanted to let you know that I have the implant. So, we are completely safe since we clearly weren’t safe last night.”

“God bless modern medicine.” He laughs lightly.

“I was going to say something before hand, but some guy fucked the thought right out of my head.” You give him a cheeky look.

“He sounds like quite the catch.”

“Biggest fish I ever saw.”

A comfortable laughter engulfs the two of you as you each search for the clothes that were discarded the night prior. You realize, a little grossed out, that you hadn’t showered since Saturday morning.

“Do you mind if I use your shower before we leave? I promise I’ll be quick.”

He nods and leads you into the bathroom. He shows you where the shampoo and conditioner are and even takes two towels. One for your body and one for your hair. Then he starts the water for you and makes a comment about how other people’s showers are always weirdly difficult to operate. While you were sure you could have managed on your own, you graciously stand back and allow him to take care of you. It’s nice to not have to be in control all the time.

“I think you’re all set. I’ll go get started on some coffee.” He taps the screen of his phone that he set down on the counter. “It’s not even 6:30 yet, you can take some extra time in here if you’d like.”

He closes the door behind him as he leaves the bathroom. Instead of heading straight for the kitchen like he said he would, he sits down on your side of the bed and buries his head in his hands. When he heard you say Hey, about last night… he was sure you were going to tell him it was a one time thing, a simple fling. Now that you had gotten it out of your system, you didn’t want to be around him anymore. He tried to keep his emotions under lock and key, but he could tell by your hesitation that you had seen something flash across his face. When you revealed that you were only referring to your birth control he was more relieved than he would like to admit. Then the guilt crept in. He scolded himself for acting like a boy fumbling around in the dark and forgetting protection like that. He was always so good with it. He could barely keep himself afloat, but a kid too? How could he have been so careless?

Your playful remark had kept him from totally spinning out. I was going to say something before hand, but some guy fucked the thought right out of my head. He knew that you told him about it because you didn’t want him to worry. He had never had a partner that brought up the events of the night during the day to soothe him. Whenever Rochelle brought it up, it was to criticize something he did or didn’t do. It registered in his brain that he was subconsciously waiting for you to do the same because it is all he has ever known. But, you didn’t. You talked to him without annoyance and without contempt. You made him feel good about himself. He only hoped that he made you feel the exact same way. With a smile on his face, he treks to the kitchen.

You stare at the bruise on your collar bone in the mirror. You don’t think you have ever seen anything so lovely in your entire life. He had given you a small piece of him to carry around. While you knew it would fade, that made you cherish it all the more. The bathroom mirror starts to fog up and you know it's time to get in. You pick up the towels that are on the counter so you can drape them over the shower curtain and find something that peaks your interest. His dog tags lay haphazardly on the countertop. You pick up the cool metal and inspect it. There are random numbers debossed into it, you assume it related to his military group, and his name indented underneath them.

“Francisco Morales.” The name feels like velvet on your tongue. “That’s going to be fun to use.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you lay your towels out, and hop into the embrace of the warm water.

***

“It’s going to be so nice to change into the extra set of clothes that I keep in my trunk.” You say walking into the kitchen.

“You keep a change of clothes in your trunk?” He doesn’t turn around to face you as he is pouring coffee, but you can tell by his back shaking that he's laughing to himself.

“Luck favors the prepared,” You walk up beside him and hop up on the counter. “Francisco.”

That got his attention. He looks at you, completely shocked, as he sets the coffee pot down.

“How did you-?”

“You really shouldn’t leave your dog tags lying about.” He moves his body in between your legs and grips your thighs. “Strangers might read them and find out all your secrets.”

“Or maybe,” His lips brush against yours. “I should tie these strangers to the headboard so they don’t go wandering off.”

Try as you might to stop it, goosebumps litter your skin at his words. You know he feels them against his palms when he smiles against you and bites at your lower lip.

“Come on,” He whispers. “As much as I want to stay here with you, we have to get to work.”

“Tease.” You taunt as you scoot off your ledge.

You watch patiently as he puts lids on two to-go cups and plucks an orange from his fruit basket.

“I know you don’t like to eat first thing in the morning, but you should still have something in your stomach.”

“Thank you.” You take the items from him. “Thank you for the whole weekend actually. You really saved me after the bar.”

“You never have to thank me. Anything that I do for you, I do because I want to.”

***

The two of you pull into Brass Knuckles’ parking lot before Benny. Your tote sat balanced on your right leg the whole car ride. Frankie had claimed the left one for himself the second he started driving. Even though you haven't touched your phone the entire weekend, you still had no desire to with Frankie sitting next to you.

“When can I see you again?” He says as he puts his truck in park.

“As much as I want to see you tonight, I have to visit my dad. He’s going to be wondering who I have been choosing to spend my nights with over him. What about Tuesday?”

You notice the color drains out of his face when you mention that day.

“I actually have a…a meeting on Tuesday. It's for work. They like to have weekly progress meetings to keep us all on track.”

“Oh, is that why you had to leave around 5 o’clock on Tuesday when you helped me with my car?”

“Yeah, exactly.” He sounds like he is trying to convince himself more than you at this point, but you decide not to say anything. “What about Wednesday?”

“Third times the charm. Wednesday sounds perfect.” You smile.

He leans over the center console to kiss you before you get out. He tells you that he will wait until you’re inside the shop before he leaves, but you encourage him to go anyway. After a bit of coaxing he finally gives in. You wait and wave by your car as he drives off into the early morning air. You could feel it in your heart that you were in way deeper than you anticipated.

“Okay,” You dig the gym keys out of your tote. “First things first: time to change.”

You unlock the door to the gym and find your house keys right where you left them so many days ago. Who knew that one simple mistake would lead to the events of this past weekend. After retrieving them, you jog out to your car, pop the trunk, and grab your spare clothes. Finally, you lock your car and head back inside to the safety of the gym. You opt to lock it just in case, plus Benny has a key so he can let himself in.

As you make your way to the locker room, you pull out your phone to see what you missed. There was one text from your dad. He knew that you had plans Saturday night, so there weren't any messages from that day. However, the text you did receive from him was late Sunday evening, presumably after his group poker tournament, that asked about your next visit.

Dad: Coming to see your old man on Monday?

You heart the message and tell him that you are going to swing by after work like usual so he better be prepared to show you all the work he has been doing. Next, you check on Robbie.

“Oh God, I’m so fucking dead.”

There were 30 unread messages and 6 missed calls from your best friend. You never told her that you were going out that night. The texts weren’t about your absence at first though. The earlier ones ranged from updates on tests she took, her saying she would have to miss your usual Sunday evening call so she could study, and her conferming dates for when she was going to drive down to see you. As the evening went on, they started to get a little more specific. She asked where you were because you weren’t answering, then she said that she knew because she tracked your location. When you still didn’t respond, most likely due to inebriation, she said she was getting worried. Guilt racked your body to know she was concerned and you weren’t there to reassure her. She texted again after you made it to Frankie’s house and correctly guessed where you were. Robbie said that she hopped that you finally grew some balls and fucked him. God, you can’t wait to tell her. The last text she sent was very late Sunday night, or technically early Monday morning, saying that if she didn’t hear from you by the end of the day she was going to call the Florida police and file a missing persons report.

You decide that the best plan of action is to call her. She is more than likely awake at this time anyway. Texas was only an hour behind Florida and it was already 7:15 am. Setting your fresh clothes on a shelf in the locker room you press ‘call’ and select speaker mode while you start to undress. She answers on the third ring.

“You better have a really fucking good explanation as to why you went completely ghost on me this weekend! I was so worried! You never do that!”

“Robbie, I’m so so sorry that I didn’t call or text you back.” You toss your old shirt into your tote. “Truth be told, I didn’t get on my phone at all this weekend. You could say I was a bit preoccupied.”

“You didn’t…”

“I did!” You yell into the speaker.

You’re sure that all of the dogs in the surrounding area can hear both you and Robbie’s high pitched celebratory shrieks. She sounds even happier than you do if you’re being honest.

“I want to know everything! Don’t you dare skimp on the details! Oh my God I’m so glad this finally fucking happened!”

You try your best to recount everything that went down while you continue changing. She sounds like she’s going to go into cardiac arrest when you tell her about the saved bottle cap and sticky note. When you finally get to the part where you had sex she is having a full blown conniption on the other end of the phone.

“Robbie, I’ve never been with a man that was so eager to eat me out like that. He was, holy shit, he was relentless like…”

Her loud and incoherent rambling through the speaker cuts you off and sends you into a fit of laughter.

“I had no idea it could feel that amazing! Oh God and when he fucked me? I didn’t think it was possible for me to feel …safe.” You take a shaky breath and push down memories that threaten to bubble to the surface. “I really didn’t think I could feel safe doing that again after what happened.”

She’s quiet, for the first time in the conversation, while she processes what you said.

“I’m so happy that he was able to provide that for you, babe. And I’m sorry that you had that feeling of safety stolen from you regarding sex. That wasn’t fair and it wasn’t your fault.”

“I guess I just kinda closed myself off from the possibilities of letting another man in like that again.” You clear your throat to chase away the feeling of being choked up. “I’m sorry again for disappearing on you.”

“It better not happen again!” She says with false seriousness. “Ugh, I need a man that will fuck me like that. I’m in a serious drought right now.”

“Well,” You say in a sing-songy manner. “Like I said a while back, I have a guy here that could treat you the way you deserve.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. What was his name again? Will?”

You hear the faint sound of keys jingling and a lock opening and are shocked at how time has gotten away from you.

“Hey, I hear Benny coming into the gym so that means I’m gonna have to help him prep for the day. Call you later?”

“Yes, please!”

You hang up and toss the rest of your discarded clothes into your tote. Before you leave you look at your face in the mirror. Honestly, with the lack of sleep coupled with the absence of makeup, you don’t look half bad today.

“Morning, Benny!” You shout as you exit the locker room.

“Ahh! What the fuck?” You have to stifle laughter after seeing him jump nearly a foot in the air. “I didn’t know you were here?!”

“I was back there changing.” You swing your very full bag over your shoulder in confirmation. “I figured it would be weird if I was still wearing Saturday’s clothes on Monday.”

“I thought Fish was goin’ to take you to pick up your car after we left?”

All you can do is stand there and try to suppress a devious smile that you feel forming on your lips.

“No fucking way! You two never left that house did you?!”

“In my defense,” You say, walking to the lobby. “He made a very compelling argument not to leave.”

“I knew he had it in him to seal the deal! Come on,” He wraps his arm around your shoulder and walks with you. “Tell me everything while we open up. I need to make sure he treated you well.”

“Everything.” You raise one of your eyebrows.

“Well skip the sex stuff.”

***

You’re blown away with how far your dad has come in his physical therapy in only a little over a month. He can actually walk on his own now. Technically, it's only short distances and with a cane for support, but he’s walking by himself nonetheless. You watch peacefully as Miss. Maggie walks next to him and sweetly utters quiet encouragement. When he finally makes it back to his chair, Miss. Maggie lets the two of you know that she’s going to take her break and will be back in about 20 minutes.

“So,” He props his cane up against the arm of the chair. “What did you get up to this weekend? I was a little shocked that you texted me saying that you had plans.”

“What? I can’t have plans now?” You joke.

“No, no. I just didn’t know you had made any friends that you cared enough about to make plans with.”

“Remember that guy who hired me? Benny? I’ve gotten pretty close with him and his group of friends. They actually surprised me on Saturday by taking me to a bar they frequent to celebrate my ‘one month anniversary’ working at the gym.”

“That’s mighty kind of them, sweet pea. I’m proud you have stuck it out this long. Did you have fun?”

“I did! It was nice to get out and do something.”

“Because spending your weekends with your dad is such a drag, right?”

“You know that's not what I mean.” You cock your head to the side.

“I know it wasn’t, but I hope it made you realize that. I don’t want you to spend the short time that you have here tethered to me. I want you to still have a life.”

“I’m literally here for you.” You counter.

“And I’m grateful for that, but you worry about everyone else around you before you worry about yourself. You can’t fully help people until you help yourself. Plus, you ditching me on Saturday gave me an opportunity.” He winks.

“Oh?”

“I asked Maggie to coffee on Wednesday after her shift. It will be here in the cafeteria we have, so it won’t be in a fancy place or even particularly good coffee, but that won’t matter. The location is irrelevant as long as you’re with the right person. Remember that.”

“I’m really happy for you, dad.” You reach out your hand and squeeze his. “I’ll remember. I promise.”

***

Ever since Frankie dropped you off Monday morning, the two of you have been texting like two middle school girls who have just gotten phones. Granted it's only Tuesday now, but you didn’t even text Robbie this much. They weren’t anything particularly deep, yet it was sweet to know that he wanted to share what he was doing during the day with you. He sent you a picture of the sun when he got to work yesterday, then a photo of the sandwich he picked up for lunch with a ‘6/10’ texted below it, and later on during the evening he sent you a picture of the moon and said ‘I thought you would like this’. Today you were a little bit surprised to see his name pop up with ‘good morning!’ next to it. Surely this meant y’all were more than just a one night stand. You spin yourself around in your desk chair as you let hundreds of ‘what if’ scenarios play out in your head. You didn’t want to assume anything, but this felt special to you. It felt really, really good. Your spinning comes to a halt when you hear your phone chime.

Frankie: I’m sorry that I can’t see you tonight because of my stupid meeting, but maybe I can make it up to you?

You: How do you plan on doing that?

Frankie: Since I can’t be there in person to make it up to you the way I really want too…I have something else up my sleeve.

You: You’re not going to tell me what it is, are you?

Frankie: Where’s the fun in that? Trust me, you’ll know it when you see it.

Before you have a chance to respond, the doorbell announces that a customer has walked in. A little part of you hoped it was the man behind the screen, but you were sorely mistaken.

“Good afternoon to my favorite receptionist in the whole gym!”

“I’m the only receptionist in the whole gym, Brunson.” Your fingers are itching to text Frankie back, but instead you direct them to your computer keys.

“That doesn’t matter, darlin’. You’d still be my favorite even if you weren’t.”

You could tell he thought that was a real winner of a line by the smug grin on his face.

“Oh, wow. Lucky me.” You yawn as you shift your gaze to the computer screen.

“So, are you going to come see me fight this Friday? I’m sure you’ve seen me in here training for it.”

“Well, since I work here I’ll be there by default.” You say without looking up at him. “And believe it or not, I’m not actually the one training you so I have no idea what goes on behind that brick wall.”

“I need a sweet little thing like you in my corner.” He either doesn’t pick up on your annoyance or chooses to ignore it. “Waiting on me with a fresh towel to wipe my face and some water for me to drink in between rounds.”

“Would you look at that? You’re all checked in for your session! I’m sure Benny would be more than happy to see you now.” You smile sickeningly sweet. “Enjoy your workout.”

“See you soon, darlin’.” He says as he heads back.

“Not if I can help it.” You mutter under your breath.

The doorbell’s cheery jingle rings out again as soon as Brunson has thankfully left your line of sight. When you turn to face the guest, you recognize her. It’s the woman who unfortunately walked in on you telling Benny that you would kick his ass last Thursday. Her hair is a golden color and is as straight as an arrow while her eyebrows were as dark as the night sky. She was about your height and dawned what looked like very expensive workout gear.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am! How may I help you today?”

She looks a little uncomfortable as she approaches your desk. “I’m just here to sign up for a membership actually. My friend originally recommended that I come to this gym and I liked it so much the last time I was here that I figured I would make it official.”

“That’s wonderful to hear!” You chalk her awkwardness up to this being a male dominated gym. “Let me get the paperwork for you to fill out.” You grab a pen out of your holder and then the membership document out of your desk’s filing basket and hand it to her. “Once you finish this, your physical copy of the membership card should be mailed to you in about a week's time. If you decide to pay us a visit before then, I can just check you in manually through our computer system.”

You gesture to a few chairs placed against the front glass wall of the building for her to sit in while she works on the form. Movement from out in the parking lot catches your eye and you see a delivery man approaching the gym with an enormous vase of flowers. You watch, confused, as he walks inside.

“I have a delivery for uhhh…” He looks down at his work tablet and looks back up as he says your name.

“That’s me. You can set them down right here if you’d like.” You wave your hand to the open left corner of your desk.

He tips his hat to you and walks out the door before you even get a chance to ask who sent them. Lucky for you, you already had a feeling who the culprit is. You stand up so you can inspect them closer. The flowers were massive lilies, but not at all like the ones you used to have on your kitchen table. These had petals that were a striking deep pink in the center that were encircled by a lighter shade of pink that eventually faded into white at the edges. Each petal also had a beautiful freckled pattern on them that was an almost mauve in color. Their scent was intoxicating. Within only a few seconds, the entire lobby smelled like a field of them. You see a small note attached to the neck of the vase by some string.

Stargazer lilies for my estrella -Frankie

“Wow, someone must really like you.”

“Do you really think so?” You poke your head around the bouquet to look at the woman seated across from you. “It’s still the early stage, the very early stage, for me and this guy.” Your cheeks already hurt from how hard you’re smiling.

“By the looks of that arrangement I would definitely say so. What’s the occasion? Anniversary? Birthday?”

“Nothing like that.” You feel a mix of bashfulness and pride talking about Frankie. “We weren’t able to see each other this evening because of a work meeting he has to go to every Tuesday. He sent these to make up for it.”

“That’s so sweet! Who’s the lucky guy?”

Before you have a chance to answer, Benny walks into the lobby, but is stopped in his tracks by the newest addition to your desk.

“Did Fish send those?!”

“Yeah, he did.” You blush under his surprise.

“I’ve never seen him act like this over someone before and I’ve known him for a long time.” Benny looks at you with genuine gratefulness in his eyes as he comes around to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge. “I fully support whatever is going on between the two of you.” He gives the top of your head a quick kiss before he rounds the brick wall again.

“Fish?” The woman has a strange look on her face.

“Oh! It’s just a nickname of sorts that his friends have for him.”

“Interesting.” She beams as she comes up to hand you her finished paperwork.

“It was nice to talk with you,” You glance down at what she wrote. “Georgina!”

“I enjoyed it too! I’m sure I’ll see you around!”

You sit back down in your chair and, unfortunately, you miss her pulling out her phone and dialing a number because you’re busy sending Frankie a thank you text for sending you flowers that look like he plucked them out of the night sky.

“You will never guess what just happened!” Georgina squeals into her speaker.

“Spit it out, George!” A woman barks on the other end.

“I was just at Brass Knuckles, right? Getting a membership like you asked to do? When I was signing up this delivery guy came in holding this gigantic vase of flowers for the new receptionist.”

“Why the fuck would that concern me?”

“It should concern you because they were from Frankie, Rochelle.”

“Did she say that explicitly?” Her tone has gone from mild annoyance to full blown anger.

“That guy Benny did. The one that runs the gym? He called him ‘fish’. That’s Frankie, right?” When Rochelle doesn’t answer right away, she presses on. “I thought the two of you were going to rekindle the relationship or something?”

“He never gave me a straightforward answer.” She grumbles. “Now I know why. George, I think it’s time that I had a little heart-to-heart with Frankie.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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#francisco morales #frankie morales #catfish #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #benny miller #will miller #ironhead #santiago garcia #pope #through the scope #read on a03

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jiminrings · 1 year

Text

maybe me (2)

pairing: jimin x reader

wordcount: 10k

glimpse: maybe it was too complacent of jimin to think everything’s okay between the two of you. maybe he was too hopeful by assuming karma wouldn’t catch up with him. but maybe, just maybe, jimin can try to fit himself and his daughter into your equation.

alternatively, jimin unintentionally reminds you of the worst pains of your life.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ more angst, dilf jimin’s a very good dad but he doesn’t believe it (give him a thumbs up when u see him on the street), wholesome scenes, jealousy n emotional constipation, emotional baggage but it’s with a cliffhanger, confrontations ]

notes: second to the last chapter can u believe :O friendly reminder that this is the start of the storm but not exactly the peak of it ya know… the full context (and the angst) would be at the finale so pls just read at ur own pace!!

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :) | series masterlist

Jimin doesn’t know when it’s going to come.

He doesn’t know when the complete feeling of remorse is going to hit him because the last time he checked, he could still look you in the eye without his chest tightening. It’s weird that the guilt hasn’t sinked in; he hasn’t stolen before in his life until he did it unto you a few days ago and he expected the sinking feeling to bring him to his knees.

He doesn’t know why it just brought him closer to you.

What Jimin feels in his heart is equivalent to a series of hiccups. There’s random bursts of the reminder of what he’s done in an irregular pattern and each time it crosses him, he holds his breath. The past week to him simply felt distorted, easily forgetting it as if his spontaneous breakdown didn’t happen.

He barely even knows you outside of what the internet grants him and yet he feels like he knows you intimately. There must be something wrong with him because a desperate single dad like him (read: an anxious and insecure single dad who pickpocketed your wallet) wouldn’t attach himself to you even more — but here he is, absolving himself of the fleeting guilt he felt and laughing with you at breakfast.

“I have something to give you, by the way,” Jimin suddenly announces with a new bout of eagerness even if you weren’t talking in the first place, only interrupting your train of thought from looking at Yuri feeding herself baby puffs.

He digs through Yuri’s diaper bag unceremoniously, fishing out an envelope that miraculously wasn’t crumpled throughout his search. You don’t know what it was but even before he held it out to you, you could already smell that it was a scented envelope.

Not a store-bought, typically daisy-scented envelope that comes in 10s though. It’s the one stationery envelope that’s standard for hotel rooms and is doused with Jimin’s perfume. It’s doused so much (he tried that hard) that the white envelope isn’t even perfectly opaque anymore.

“You’re not my competition, are you?” you joke, looking warily at the envelope he holds out to you with a cheeky grin. “There’s no anthrax in there?”

“No, but I actually know where to get that!” Jimin laughs, thrusting the envelope towards your hands but you think for a second that perhaps he isn’t even joking around, breezing through the latter part of his sentence far too casually.

His socialization and joking skills haven’t been up to par lately, knowing it clearly when he sees question marks floating above your head.

“Oh, uhm, I’m a paralegal, remember?” he coughs to his hand in embarrassment, flushing when you laugh right back at him because he didn’t register that you were just returning the joke. He could be a little dense sometimes.

He’s overwhelming this way; he’s across from you on the table and yet he feels so close, his whole body propped forwards that with just one push, he’ll tumble to where you’re sat. He typically smells like baby powder and fresh linen with his daughter being attached to his hip but the envelope in your hands bears his real perfume, of black musk and the thoughts you have of what would’ve happened if you met him before he had Yuri.

He even sounds overwhelming, giggling lowly to himself as you courteously open the envelope in front of him. He’s excited as if he wasn’t the one who crafted it from start to finish. As if he didn’t buy art paper and filled ten pages of scratch just to practice his handwriting. As if he didn’t print out a picture of Yuri to stick and bought heart gem stickers to surround her.

You are cordially invited to Park Yuri’s first haircut!

Room 103, tonight at 6 P.M.

See you there! ♡

It’s adorable.

It’s too adorable that you look at her first before Jimin, seeing her head of hair and Jimin’s appeal to give Yuri her first haircut because she already has more than enough to put it into two loose pigtails.

Jimin waits for your reaction, worried to the point that he bounces his knee up and down and almost kicks you in the process. There’s a gentle smile on your face, fond enough for him to realize that although he tried hard, he got what he wanted.

“Who else is invited?” you question sincerely, an inkling feeling that Jimin didn’t invite that many people to begin with. It’s as if he read your mind because he chuckles again, shrugging with ease.

“Besides you, it’s just Namjoon.”

That is the truth, however, Jimin just asked him via text with a picture of Yuri attached and he got a yes not even two minutes later. Even if Namjoon would love an endearing and hand-made invitation, Jimin isn’t too sure if he’d make it for anyone else but you.

“It’s not really a thing, isn’t it?” you question, amusement behind your tone and not malice. If there’s anything you’ve learned, Jimin tends to be unorthodox at times, but his pursuit of giving Yuri everything remains unchanged. “Baby’s first haircut party? Is that an official thing?”

“No, not really,” he shakes his head, hanging his head down but it isn’t with shame; instead, it’s with a burst of pride for himself because he feels like he’s adequate enough for his daughter. “She won’t even remember it but I just want her to experience things. No matter how silly and whatnot.”

It is a little silly.

When you think about it, it’s a sentimental and intimate memory that’s soon to happen. Jimin had already crossed milestone after milestone and this time it’s the first snip at his baby’s hair, the same bit he felt deathly anxious at shampooing because she was just so soft — just so frail and tiny.

Yuri may be an extension of Jimin yet she’s bigger than him. She’s young and kind and she’ll be far better than him because he wants her to. It’ll be a sentimental memory of him cutting her hair wherein he could say that he’s the first person to ever do it for her. That in the future when she grows up and gets her haircuts, she could have a tiny fleeting memory that it’s her dad who used to do all of this for her.

A silly, little, and memorable event — and you’re invited.

“Do you need me to bring anything?” your voice is small when you ask, trying to grasp at the realization that Jimin trusts you beyond words, even for reasons you can’t see.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll take care of everything,” he shakes his head, licking his lips in reply.

It’s a hiccup in his heart again. It’s been so long since his last hiccup of guilt and this time he holds his breath again. He was so used to his remorse coming to rest that he didn’t anticipate the fact that his hurt comes in waves that were shores apart.

A silly, little, and memorable event between him and his daughter — and you’re asking what he needs you to bring.

Jimin wishes he could turn back time to the day he got his grubby and greedy hands all up on your purse. He’s not even sure if you know what he did. Nonetheless, the guilt keeps him up at night.

Everything’s set up thoughtfully to Jimin’s standards.

As soon as you ring the bell, Jimin answers with wide arms and a shaky laugh because he just gave away the fact that he’s most certainly been waiting for you at the door.

The whole space is illuminated by ambient lighting from the cove ceiling and the lamps, most especially by the huge ass TV that Jimin rigged to display a neon pink picture he saw from the internet to wash the whole room a pale pink.

There’s foil balloons spelling out Yuri’s name stuck to the curtain, and you don’t even want to think if Jimin realizes that he’s gonna have a hard time picking out the double-sided tape he used on the fabric.

The dining area’s set up and if your eyes aren’t deceiving you, the table runner used is the same decorative bed runner that’s standard for the hotel rooms.

The entirety of Jimin’s receiving area has completely been rearranged just for this single event he thought of, a tiny baby sofa placed on the middle of it.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” Namjoon creeps up from behind you and effectively surprises you in the process, stumbling at the right time because Jimin’s crouching down to place the hotel slippers at your feet.

Your assistant’s holding a handycam, his urgency in focusing the camcorder to you almost distracting you from the fact that he’s dressed in pajamas, the image of Mater on his torso making you look. Namjoon’s so casual and so is Jimin, dressed in sleepwear with Boo on his shirt and both Sully and Wazowski on his pajamas. God, this is a family matter and for some odd reason, you don’t stick out like a sore thumb.

“What’s your message for the birthday — what’s your message for the first haircut girl?” Namjoon knits his eyebrows in concentration, looking at you on the viewfinder and back at you in reality when your mouth is too dry to speak.

“Oh! Right, uhm, to Bambi,” you clear your throat, a breathless chuckle when you see Jimin emerging from his bedroom with a bundle of clothes in his hand. “Happy first haircut! You’re really-…”

“Here you go, Y/N. Get changed to pajamas! There’s a dress code.”

“Shoo, shoo. Get away, Jimin. I’m still interviewing Miss Y/N,” Namjoon reaches his hand out to get him out of the frame, hearing the faint sound of a zoom to your face as he pushes you to continue. “Sorry, continue please!”

You can’t help but to giggle, caught in the middle of them; Namjoon who’s hounding you to extend your greetings to Yuri, and Jimin who’s insistent on getting you to change to pajamas now.

“You’re really loved, that’s what I was about to say.”

You smile, the truth of it slipping easy from your lips.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the baby who’s in her playpen at the moment is greatly celebrated and loved, even for the little things. You’re certain that there’s more people beyond this room who regards Yuri in the same way her dad and uncle do.

Yuri is loved and you say it genuinely, eyes briefly meeting Jimin’s because he’s right beside Namjoon to make way for you. His eyes sparkle and perhaps even sting at that, covering up the choke from his throat by thrusting your pajamas at you.

“You can change at the bathroom or in the bedroom, whatever works for you,” he adds, seeing you unfold what he bought for you to be pajamas with Bambi on them, the deer printed throughout the whole set. Jimin suddenly realizes that he might be imposing on you, coughing while he clarifies. “But if you don’t want to change, it’s okay! You’re already here and-…”

“It’s fine. I’ll change.”

You hum softly on the way to the bathroom, locking it after you before you exhale and — god, this whole thing is so homely.

It strikes you that this is your first visit to his room, the very space where his whole life is cramped in for the time being, since your abrupt entrance into it where you first met him.

You’re in his bathroom, a space that you yourself keep minimal for guests to use, not even imagining to lend the main one you use because it was too intimate. But Jimin lends you his without a care in the world, even escorting you to it.

His scent’s here, products laid on the countertop neatly even if it used to be sprawled all over unbeknownst to you. His toothbrush lies beside Yuri’s, his shampoo right next to hers, his towel next to her very own.

There’s a baby bathtub at the shower room, an affinity of bubble animals strewn in it.

It looks lived-in, something that puts a lump on your throat because just a month ago, you’ve burst into Jimin’s space out of worry for his daughter — now, you’re invited to watch him give Yuri her first haircut.

You try to get changed as fast as possible, trying not to take a peek at what Jimin’s perfume is but ultimately failing. You come out of the bathroom, dressed in pajamas you didn’t expect to wear right in front of everyone (read: two adults and one baby), seeing a sight to behold.

In the short time you disappeared, Jimin had already organized everything for final touches. Yuri’s already sitting on her baby sofa, his shirt that drowns her in its size acting as a makeshift salon cape.

He waves you over, the fear of missing out making you jog to where he and Namjoon are. Jimin’s already holding the scissors, sitting on the floor to match Yuri. She isn’t bothered that her dad’s sitting behind her, even laughing because she sees him in the mirror placed in front of her.

“Joon, are you getting this?” Jimin asks frantically, looking up at him only to be shushed.

Your assistant’s really taking his job seriously because he only allows himself a second to chuckle, acting as if being behind the camera is a full-on job he got a master’s degree for. “Yeah, yeah. Shhh. Yuri’s laughing.”

Jimin grabs the spray bottle, dampening Yuri’s hair and brushing it out to be straight. Yuri remains neutral by it, holding a stuffie of a rat that’s (un)affectionately named Stinky. Jimin hates rats, actually, but it’s one that Yuri won’t let go at the store with her insane Palmar grasp reflex, so he buys it for her.

If it’s a microwaveable rat stuffie named Stinky that’s going to keep Yuri calm during her first haircut, then so be it. He’ll try not to shudder when he rewatches the footage of this moment while his daughter holds a rat.

“Just a little snip on the back,” Jimin whispers, mostly for calming himself down because he doesn’t want to fuck up Yuri’s first haircut. He takes her hair between his two fingers, exhales, and cuts.

There’s a terse silence that you can’t even fill up with a gasp, interrupted when Jimin suddenly cheers and holds up the hair for Namjoon to film.

“It’s even! It’s even! Ah, appa didn’t mess your hair up!” he squeals, kissing Yuri’s cheeks repeatedly. Jimin makes a mental note to put it in a bag, later to be tucked in her baby album.

It’s a warm, tear-jerking moment — the latter you’re sure of because Namjoon’s shoulders are shaking and you have to briefly take over camera duty for him.

It’s when Jimin and Namjoon are preparing dinner that you’ve willingly stuck yourself to the floor. Yuri keeps wandering around and her dad and uncle are too busy, leaving only you to keep an eye on her.

Yuri stands by herself, gripping the couch to do so. Her legs are stable albeit a little wobbly and unsure when taking steps, but when she does attempt it now, she wills herself to crash on your lap and take her seat there.

“Bambi,” you whisper, the baby looking up at you. It’s a mere coincidence that she responded because after all, her name’s Yuri, not the same character you have on your pajamas.

You’re not quite sure what you’re supposed to do but you don’t push her off your lap, instead engaging in an impromptu staring contest with her.

Jimin’s about to ask if you want him to plate your food for you or if you want to do it yourself but he stops at his tracks, the sight in front of him tinted pink and sentimental.

“Do you want a fringe?” Jimin coos from behind you, making you clutch at your heart because he’s definitely talking to his daughter and not you. He takes refuge beside you, sitting as he gets Yuri to hold his hand. “Bangs would look so cute on you.”

Yuri smiles, not exactly an answer that was discernible.

“What do we think? Dora bangs or no?” Jimin asks, turning his face to you and you’re so close, he could see the fan of your eyelashes when you look back to him.

“Your call,” you shrug, breaking eye contact.

“I have no signal.”

There’s a loud groan from the corner, Namjoon’s back turned to the both of you but still as disappointed. He shudders. “Slap me if you ever hear me saying dad jokes.”

Jimin yearns to slap him lightly but he’s too far and takes it to heart anyway, crumpling up a nearby streamer for better weight and throws it to Namjoon’s head.

“Ow! What was that for?” Namjoon finally turns, eyes slightly widening at the image of his boss and half-brother sitting so closely, his niece placed right at your lap.

“You’re joking at my expense, and I’m a dad!”

“Insulting you and making dad jokes are different. You should-…”

You learn quickly to tune them out, humming to yourself as the two men tiff.

“Do you want bangs?” you ask as Yuri carries herself, getting up by putting her weight on your shoulders. You support her, putting your hands underneath her arms.

“Laugh if it’s a yes, fall on your butt if it’s a no.”

And Yuri falls.

Jimin holds his hand out to cushion her fall but you do it before him, hands intersecting that his eyes flicker at with a fond smile.

“Okay, let’s hold out on the Dora bangs for now.”

( ♡ )

Jimin wants to take the hurt away from Yuri.

Her eyes are red and raw from crying, the discomfort she feels in her ears completely changing her whole mood. Jimin already took her to her pedia and they said the hurt would only peak once more before it subsides, tonight being the fated moment.

If he thinks he’s already preconditioned to his daughter’s cries, he’s badly mistaken.

“It’ll be okay, baby. You’ll be okay,” he whispers, tears coming out of his own eyes as he cradles Yuri, pressing a kiss to her temple. Fuck, he’s so stupid. It’s most likely his fault she’s hurting now and for someone who’s an unemployed and full-time single dad, Jimin feels like he’s surely lacking.

“Let’s uhm, let’s try not to cry, alright? Your ears will hurt more.”

Jimin breathes shallowly as he dresses Yuri for the cold, his mind so scattered that he prepared everything but himself. Her weight on his arms is a reminder that she needs him, forgoing the carrier because vomiting on it would be unideal and Yuri needed all the contact she could get.

He’s already up and walking out of the elevator, not noticing the worried glance the security guard at the front (that’s used to seeing him and his daughter) throws him.

He only has his wallet and his daughter, cussing himself when he realizes that he forgot to bring Yuri’s diaper bag for any accidents. He’s so frazzled that he can’t even decide between running up back again to the room or just booking it to the pharmacy, head whipping back and forth that his eyes sting in frustration.

“Jimin?”

He comes back to consciousness when his name is called, eyes falling on you. Your car’s put on hazard at the side, window rolled down to see if it was truly him. You had a hunch that it was him when you see the familiar gray sweatpants, but you had to do a double-take because why would he wear those at this weather?

“Where are you going?”

Jimin can barely even register your presence, answering directly to the point.

“Pharmacy. Yuri needs Pedialyte,” he says and as if on cue, Yuri sobs dryly.

There’s no other argument that comes to your brain, unlocking all your doors in an instant.

“I’ll take you there.”

It sinks to Jimin now little by little that you are here offering him a ride, a complete coincidence. The weight and the cries of Yuri remind him to answer. “I don’t wanna hassle you. I didn’t take my car because Yuri might throw up on the seats and that’s another discussion.”

“My seats will be just fine.”

“But-…” he reasons, his pride diminishing by the second. “Really, it’s just a short walk. She needs the air too and-…”

“Come on, Jimin. It’s okay,” you reply sternly, his resolve weakened by now the more that his daughter’s out in the cold. “It’s for Yuri, right?”

Jimin’s eyes are downcast, head glancing back up when he hears your door open for him. “Yes. It’s for Yuri.”

It’s a short and quiet trip, one that was filled with Yuri’s cries and Jimin’s anxious thoughts which were just as loud. He couldn’t have jumped out of your car faster as soon as you parked, completely abandoning you but you don’t even take offense.

You try your best to catch up with him, the sudden intrusion of the overhead lights from previously being out at the night sky making the both of you wince. Jimin expected the lights to freak out Yuri but instead, her cries lessen, curiosity piqued by the vastness of the pharmacy.

He makes the mental note to turn on every possible light back at the room later.

“Why’s she throwing up?” you take a chance in asking when it’s clear that Jimin isn’t as dazed than when you saw him awhile ago. You follow behind him dutifully, trying not to crowd him as he takes a slight detour when he remembered he needs baby food and baby shampoo.

You’re approaching the inner aisles when you take the basket from him without a word so he could focus on just holding Yuri, thanking you softly as his eyes skim the racks.

He wants to answer you because it would be rude not to but he feels ashamed. He doesn’t want to be judged but in his clouded vision now, you probably already did. Jimin has nothing left to lose, proven by his appearance now in the pharmacy in just his ratty pajamas because he failed to be prepared enough.

“Ear infection,” Jimin answers after some time, his grasp on the baby shampoo loosening as he explains. “But the doctor said that it’s common a-and a lot of babies have it!”

It’s a painful sight, seeing Jimin try to justify himself in front of you. He has nothing to prove — you do care, but you’re unrelated to him and Yuri. He doesn’t have to explain.

“Yeah, Jimin. I’ve heard it’s normal,” you answer, a timid smile on your face. You take the bottle from his hands, placing it inside the cart. “You don’t have to defend yourself.”

“I’m not defending myself. I’m just-…” Jimin’s voice pitches but later dwindles, pinching the bridge of his nose while he mutters under his breath. “Fuck, yeah, I am defending myself.”

In the middle of the shampoo aisle, Jimin has the urge to break down. He wants to fall to his knees and clutch at his hair as Yuri stares in wonder (or in pity) at him.

But in the middle of the shampoo aisle, you reassure Jimin of a truth that nobody has to inspect closely to know.

“You’re a good dad.”

“Maybe,” he sniffles, gathering his bearings back. He thinks that if only you knew that he stole from you, you wouldn’t say that.

“Just maybe?” you tease a little to lighten the mood but your voice carries worry at what he sees himself as, eyes trying to get him to glance at you.

“Good dads don’t let their kids have ear infections,” Jimin chuckles but the humor is lost. “Good dads would’ve bought a spare bottle of Pedialyte at the clinic so they’re always prepared.”

He’s not angry at Yuri, he’s just angry at himself. Stupid instincts for only catching on that she’s coming down with something a little bit late, stupid parenting for not buying extra medicine.

“Good dads wouldn’t be in their pajamas with holes on them and bathroom slides at a pharmacy in the evening to buy medicine,” he snorts, trying not to look at himself in any reflective surfaces. “Good dads don’t inconvenience their hoteliers.”

“I’m not being inconvenienced,” you shrug with truth to your words, following him around and when he looks down at your shadows, he realizes belatedly that your arm is occupied.

“Give me that. You’re even holding the basket,” Jimin snatches it away from you eagerly and with irritation towards himself, Yuri being adjusted to his right arm and the basket on his left.

The both of you line up to pay, Jimin’s wallet in his right pocket that it makes you instinctively take Yuri off his hands, putting her on your hip instead.

Jimin inputs his card, the cashier looking away as he punches in his pin and choosing to converse with you while he does so.

“You have a pretty baby,” she compliments and it makes Jimin’s heart flutter despite the cashier’s glance being set on you and not him.

“Oh, thank you!” you smile, bouncing Yuri on your hip. “But she’s not mine.”

Jimin brings home Yuri and the items he bought with your assistance, and he could only pathetically wish he can bring you home too.

( ♡ )

It was a slow night for you when Yoongi called, asking if he could come up to your office.

Namjoon already clocked out and so did the other staff working under you, leaving you alone in your office because you just don’t have it in you to go home yet.

You agree without a second thought, letting himself in after three knocks.

Yoongi looks better than the last time you saw him, obviously more at ease now that he’s getting the hang of looking after Suki alone. He pushes her in her stroller and into your office, setting her to the side. His gaze is only set on you, whatever emotion he had behind his eyes highlighted by the ambient lighting in the room.

The last time he saw you, he misread your leniency and empathy for Jimin and his daughter terribly.

“I owe you an apology.”

He looks somber — too somber that your heart hurts just by looking at his expression. Your typing ceases, knowing that your attention won’t ever be back again to your work for the rest of the night.

“Accepted.”

“I didn’t even get to say sorry,” Yoongi breathlessly chuckles, pulling up a chair to sit beside you. He could’ve just sat across you but it wasn’t enough for him, wanting to deliver his sincere apology clearly and hopefully, coax out a conversation between the two of you.

“You don’t need to. I don’t wanna dwell on it either,” you answer truthfully, your need for conversation at the moment basically non-existent. You’ve been feeling numb lately and although Yoongi’s appearance relieves it, he serves as further reminder of your hurt.

“That’s-…”

“Unhealthy?” you cut him off, a snort following soon after.

Yoongi rolls his eyes at that but he understands — understands it more than anyone. He can’t blame you; no one can.

“I was about to say normal,” he answers quietly, no louder than a mumble but you hear it loud and clear.

You have the tendency to shut down and so does Yoongi. If you turn quiet, he won’t even question it. And if you feel like sitting at your office in silence with him overlooking the city at night, he’ll stay.

Yoongi may not be your closest confidant, but he’s the only one who knows you at your rawest and most vulnerable. Yoongi dislikes it when you thank him so you don’t, but you smile at him and then to Suki who’s sleeping in her stroller.

“You get me, Yoongs.”

( ♡ )

This time around, it’s Jimin who catches you sitting alone at the rooftop garden.

Lately, you don’t even come home. You choose to sleep over at one of the numerous rooms and suites available to you, the sterilized staleness of the rooms compared to your house placating you.

Namjoon doesn’t question you because he doesn’t even know, trusting that when he drives home, you do too. You know for sure that if he knew, you’d be bombarded with questions of why you can’t just detach yourself from work these days.

Jimin notices though.

He takes Yuri down to the lobby every now and then so she could walk freely without bumping into furniture every two seconds, but almost always, he’ll see a glimpse of you.

Just you, your nose buried in your laptop or talking with your staff. It would be late when he takes Yuri down because that’s when she’s most active, but by the time he tires her out and she’s ready to retire to her co-sleeper, you still haven’t come home.

He tries to locate you tonight by himself, leaving Yuri with Namjoon in his room. Jimin wonders if Namjoon knows that you’re still at work, knowing that he has a few white hairs from worrying over his boss.

Jimin watches you from afar, sitting where he sat the last time by the edge of the pool, a full glass of scotch taking what you used to be your space beside him.

“What are you doing up this late?”

Your shoulders jolt in surprise, thankfully having the bearings not to fall over into the pool. Jimin would’ve tried to catch you anyways if you did, being surprised himself that you were shocked at his appearance.

You don’t seem to be bothered by his presence but you’re confused at the lack of the tiny human attached to him by the hip. “Where’s Bambi?”

Jimin smiles at that, not mad that he’s already here yet the first person you look for is his daughter.

He’s finally at ease, your breakfasts the past few mornings being cancelled because he was busy tending to Yuri who thankfully has now recovered completely. She’s calmer than ever and didn’t need to be worn out at the hotel lobby to be put to a good night’s sleep.

“Namjoon’s watching over her. He’s catching up with this live show in my room,” he moves your glass, folding his sweatpants up to mimic your position.

There’s something about you that’s been off lately. Jimin doesn’t know what exactly but he’s sure there’s something tilted. He may not know you enough, guilty that whenever the both of you talk it always seems to revolve either around him or his daughter — but he’s trying. He’s trying to ask about yourself more and more but for some reason, you’re detached.

“Do you not go home?” he blurts out, unable to keep the words in his mouth. “Sorry. It just seems like you’re always here.”

You do find it true that Jimin has little to no filter to his words but at the moment, you really don’t mind. The question is welcome and although it’s loaded, you carry it with your arms.

“I do go home. Just not feeling it right now.”

Jimin nods at that, humming at your answer. At the very least he knew that you had a house, a stable one at that right under your name unlike him. He knows you have a roof to go home to but in the sudden form of an intrusive thought, Jimin thinks if there’s someone you go home to.

“Is there uhm-…” he coughs, the sudden feeling of panic and sadness engulfing him. Is he intruding? Why did this never cross his mind before? “Is there uhm, someone waiting for you at home? Are you avoiding them?”

The questions hangs right above your head, something as light as a feather for you but as heavy as a piano over Jimin’s mind.

You’re confused to his inner turmoil because you only tilt your head, making him swallow the lump in his throat because he just wishes he asked the wrong question.

“What?” you ask, grasping what he’s insinuating. “Oh god, no. I live alone.”

There’s a huge bit of tension that’s released from his shoulders, unaware that a breezy sigh leaves past his lips. Good — he wouldn’t have known what to say otherwise.

Jimin’s just about to ask why is it that you don’t want to come home but you beat him to it, already glazing over a new topic of conversation that revolved around him. You act so light to him and yet there’s barely any behind your eyes, seeing the bags underneath that he could see even in the dim lighting of the rooftop.

“How’s the house search going?”

Jimin sighs at that, answering your question before he even catches on that you’re deflecting.

“Some prospects here and there but not the exact one I see Yuri growing up in. It’s tough to figure out.”

He wants to think of long-term, sick of looking over at leases and contracts in both a professional and personal sense. He’s seen so many that’s legally gray and vague, pushing him to think repeatedly that the house he has in mind still hasn’t surfaced yet. If it’s the one for him and Yuri, it’d be flawless all the way down to the fine print.

“When are you-…” you cough after a sip of your scotch, throat burning not at the alcohol but at the question instead. “When are you moving out?”

Jimin blinks again and again, an insistent shake of his head making the whole room spin to him.

“Not yet.” Not yet, he wants to beg. Please don’t bring up the version of reality where he doesn’t get to see you every morning and eat breakfast with you and his daughter, or the one where you’re not always around and he can come ask you to witness a milestone of Yuri’s.

“I don’t know, but not now,” Jimin insists, voice turning raw. “We’re not leaving yet.”

You look to the water beneath you, faint and distorted versions of you and Jimin dancing around. “Okay.”

The atmosphere has always been light between the two of you, but without your inquiring gaze and the general easiness you carried around, Jimin has to carry the whole conversation himself.

You don’t seem to talk a lot these days. Sure, you do react genuinely but not as eager. You’re still around and even without that far of a physical distance, your mind seemed to be somewhere else, eyes unfocused and glazed.

“I want to thank you for the other night in the pharmacy,” Jimin breaks his silence. “It meant a lot.”

You don’t even have a good concept of time nowadays, slipping your mind that it’s only been a week since you drove Jimin and his daughter to the pharmacy. You’re upset that you forgot the time so easily but you’re grateful at the reminder that you remember with minimal help.

“I didn’t deserve that but thank you.”

“Why do you discredit yourself so much?” you reply louder than Jimin’s mumble, your tone even surprising yourself. You’re definitely more than focused now, in tune with the current conversation you’re having. “Stop withholding yourself from the things you deserve.”

“No, I know what I deserve,” Jimin scoffs, tucking his arms across his chest. “And it’s not you driving me and Yuri to get her medicine at ten in the evening.”

Jimin pitying himself was an exhausting sight not only because his sadness seemed to affect you, but also because what he’s pertaining to isn’t true. There’s no merit to his words, making you think that he’s so far into his insecurity that he can’t discern his hardwork from incompetence.

“Then what do you deserve, hm?” you snicker, slightly taking offense that he doesn’t seem to like you driving him. “Who do you deserve?”

This time it’s Jimin who deflects, humorlessly chuckling. Your wording was unintentionally suggestive, realizing it belatedly when he doesn’t quip as quickly as you expected him to.

“If you word it like that,” he hums, oddly brave even without a sip of your scotch. “I feel even more scared to ask you out for dinner.”

“What was that?”

You deflect right back, dancing around each other. The both of you know you’ve heard each other loud and clear, but Jimin indulges you nonetheless.

“I said your heart is too good,” he laughs, throwing his head back. He looks so wasted and he didn’t even drink a single drop of alcohol, genuinely smitten. He points accusingly at your chest. “Too much empathy. Too much belief in there.”

“Is it my heart or my cleavage?” you snort, laughing to yourself that you forget you already forgone drinking from your glass because you’ve just been speaking to Jimin eye-to-eye.

“Nope. I see right through your heart, not your cleavage,” he squints, swishing his lips to the side playfully. “Although the view of your heart is being obstructed.”

“Shut up.”

Jimin laughs even louder and for a second, you feel infinitely lighter. He feels it too, sees it too. You look happy and in the moment, and even for a second, Jimin takes pride in it.

“Here,” he digs into his pocket and hands you a folded towel, urging you to spread it out.

It’s one of the several hundred baby towels he has, your name stitched on the corner of it. It’s a little wonky, the tension a little off, but it’s okay.

“Accept it as my thanks. It’s not enough, but I’ll give you more,” he shrugs, seeing you admire (or maybe loathe) his craft of your name with pink thread.

“You don’t have to give me more,” you hum, folding the towel back up and putting it on your lap.

Jimin shakes his head.

“I want to give more.”

( ♡ )

The next time Yoongi visits you, Jimin’s in the picture.

Technically speaking, Yoongi arrives at the scene first with Suki in tow, pushing her stroller yet she’s carried by him. Something about her waking up clingy and Yoongi not exactly complaining.

“Wow, she’s turning two at the end of the year,” you gasp at the realization, taking her from his arms because she reaches out for you. She seems to remember her Auntie Y/N to heart already, making him smile out of pride as he passes Suki to you.

“Kiss!” she cheers, her pronunciation clear despite her giddiness. Yoongi says that she’s been demanding more and more affection lately (his hugs and kisses don’t seem to be enough), even asking from people outside of him.

“Alright. Suki gets a kiss from me,” you declare to her while cooing, landing one on her cheek to which she shrieks happily at. You forgot just how cute Suki could be, especially if she wasn’t busy being one sleepy child.

“Kiss again!” she demands and you oblige, her gaze suddenly turning to Yoongi beside you. “Appa, kiss!”

Suki stretches out of your hold despite remaining in it, cheek held out for Yoongi to smooch. He laughs at her request, granting her one immediately.

It goes on back and forth until Suki doesn’t even speak, just pressing her cheek out to either one of you repeatedly. She’s a smart girl, making a game out of it and perhaps even teasing the both of you. Suki’s pampered in affection while she keeps it up, suddenly stopping when she sees people walking in from behind you.

Yoongi notices Namjoon and Jimin before you, making you snap your head to where they were coming from.

Namjoon keeps on walking even if Jimin and Yuri freeze behind him, taking Yoongi for a casual side hug while he turns to Suki who he’s seen a couple times before.

There’s you, holding another child. Even Yuri in Jimin’s arms is perplexed, big eyes widening at the older child in your grasp. Suki doesn’t turn her gaze from Yuri either, blinking owlishly.

Jimin, on the other hand, doesn’t know what to feel. He’s oblivious that his daughter finds the girl in your arms to be her competition, too busy taking in the sight. You, Yoongi, and the baby fit each other like how a real family would.

Suki fidgets out of your hold, reaching for Yoongi because the sight of strangers in such close proximity makes her shy.

“Hi, I’m Jimin.”

Jimin introduces himself despite not sticking his hand out, his gaze set on your friend and not you. You’re not even sure if he spared you a glance in the first place.

“Hello, Jimin.”

Yoongi monotonously answers, making Namjoon shuffle over to where you stood. He resists the urge to snort, gaze flitting between the two men who were standing parallel to each other.

Yoongi only replies but doesn’t introduce himself, making you nudge him not to be rude.

“I’m Yoongi.”

“This is my daughter, Yuri,” Jimin continues, a curt smile on his face as Yuri only stares. She doesn’t stare at Yoongi though, just towards Suki.

“This is Suki, my daughter,” Yoongi reciprocates, bouncing his daughter slightly. She looks owlishly at Jimin’s daughter, hostile even in her gaze.

“Are they reading scripts at the top of each other’s head?” Namjoon leans down to your ear and murmurs, taking the initiative to set the both of you at a distance after seeing the two engage in conversation animatedly.

“I have no idea,” you mumble, eyes flitting back and forth because they’re talking at a volume only they could discern. Their daughters are in a different conversation, communicating only in slow blinks.

“It’s so painful to watch,” he winces, intrigued when he sees Jimin look offended.

“Tell me about it,” you distractedly answer, surprised when you see Yoongi look insulted.

It concludes suddenly, making you and Namjoon snap out of it and pretend as if you weren’t trying your earnest to eavesdrop. Yoongi goes to you and Jimin weakly trails along, his words only for you.

“I forgot to run an errand. Let’s go to the pharmacy,” he declares in a rush, setting Suki down on her stroller and placating her that he’ll carry her in the soonest.

“I’m coming with!” Jimin announces, not asking for permission as he trails behind you and Yoongi who’s whisking you off to the exit.

“I-I — wait for me!” Namjoon catches up after the realization that he’s being left alone, the fear of missing out making him walk extra quickly.

It’s a sudden turn of events that started from Yoongi just wanting to speak to you privately and using the pharmacy as an excuse to do so, but Jimin and his nosiness intervened, and that prompted all of you to do a sudden trek to the pharmacy.

You walk with Yoongi’s pace, and Jimin tries to walk at yours but he clearly doesn’t have the advantage because Yoongi has a stroller and he doesn’t. Namjoon’s keeping up behind the the three of you, just happy that he’s there.

It’s the same pharmacy you went to a week ago, the context this time definitely confusing (yet amusing) instead of urgent.

“Suki ran out of baby shampoo,” Yoongi announces to no one in particular, taking the lead as he walks.

“No way, Yuri also went out of baby shampoo this week,” Jimin exclaims, mouth parting at the coincidence. Yoongi looks pleasantly surprised too, excited even.

“Really? It’s gone so quick, it’s like they eat it while they’re being bathed.”

“That’s what I think too!”

Jimin and Yoongi enter the pharmacy with a renowned and shared excitement, leaving you and Namjoon confused at the sudden switch. It’s weird, as if the two of them weren’t silently squaring up to each other for no reason at all back at the hotel.

“Huh,” you think out loud. “Single dads and their trips to pharmacies. Interesting.”

“Is that common?” Namjoon scrunches his nose, following you inside. You seek either one of them for you to tag along with, peering at the snacks here and there.

“Yeah, ask Jimin,” you shrug casually. “This is my second time in here.”

“He didn’t trouble you, did he?” your assistant asks for clarification, brows knitted in worry. Perhaps he’s been too lax on Jimin lately, failing to consider that he might’ve been too overbearing. “I’m sorry, Miss Y/N. I’ll keep him in check.”

“No need to, Namjoon,” you chuckle at his consideration, appreciating it but not requiring it. “I don’t mind.”

Namjoon spots Jimin first at his right so he tags with him, leaving you with Yoongi who’s just five steps ahead of you.

He already decided on Suki’s shampoo and he’s just debating now what color of toothbrush he should get for her, stuck between the lavender and the baby blue. Yoongi’s having quite some trouble pushing Suki’s stroller and his basket at the same time, making you take over for him in pushing his daughter.

“You ready to go?” you ask Jimin when you catch him at one of the aisles, Yoongi trailing right behind you.

“Mhmm. Already got all her stuff,” Jimin hums, managing to fit the tub of vaseline and baby powder in just one hand, all while carrying Yuri with the other.

Yoongi wordlessly plucks out the two items from his hands and puts them in his basket, a mumble for Jimin to hear as he stalks towards the cashier. “I’ll take care of your items.”

Jimin just stands there, frozen until Yuri pecks at his cheek.

Wait a minute, didn’t he just menacingly ask Yoongi awhile ago of who he was to you? What was it that prompted him to suddenly soften towards him and offer to pay for his items? Was it the connection about the baby shampoo of their daughters? Is it pity?

Jimin’s no stranger to receiving pity but he doesn’t know how to react with it coming from Yoongi, someone he’s only seen twice and conversed with once. Maybe it’s kindness, maybe it’s pity. He didn’t ask for Yoongi to pay for his vaseline and baby powder and yet there he is, standing at the cashier with you beside him.

Whatever it is that Jimin feels at the pit of his stomach, it was bad. It didn’t sit right on his chest and he can’t even decide if he’d want to use the same two items knowing that it’s Yoongi who’ll buy it for him without even asking.

His ears ring even if Yuri isn’t crying, sensitive to what he hears next.

“You have a lovely daughter,” uttered by a new cashier this time.

“Oh, thank you,” you respond with a smile, making Jimin freeze. “But she’s not mine,” Jimin waits for you to add but it doesn’t follow.

It never comes. He asked Yoongi if you were Suki’s mother and he answers no, said he’s a single dad too, and JImin believes him.

“But she’s not mine.” — the same answer you said when you were mistaken for Yuri’s mother, never comes. The correction doesn’t follow.

You took it. You just took it.

The difference haunts Jimin around the whole day that it rendered him dazed, irritable at everything for no reason that he just cooped himself in his room once you all came back to the hotel.

He doesn’t get it — is the problem him? Is the context gravely different that you’re okay being mistaken for Suki’s mom and not Yuri’s? Or is his daughter the problem? Was Yuri simply not worthy enough to be mistaken for your daughter?

The conflict in Jimin’s mind never leaves him, even if you knock at his door with the intention of just bringing up pastries from the café downstairs. You wanted to tell him that Yoongi asked for his number, saying that he hopes to keep in touch with him because he left a lasting impression despite being brief. Their commonalities are being single dads and having you in their life; you as Yoongi’s friend, and however you want to define yourself in Jimin’s book.

Jimin answers the door with such fervor that the door almost swings and hits himself, jaw clenched as he lets you inside.

“I brought you-…”

“That’s not your daughter,” he interrupts you, turning his back and leaving you confused.

“Excuse me?” you ask, thinking back to the only situation that happened today that could be the only other thing that Jimin’s pertaining to. You follow him to the receiving area, him stood in the middle of it in an antsy pace.

“You know what I’m talking about. Yoongi and his daughter. The cashier,” he shrugs as if it doesn’t affect him but it does, the weight on his shoulders making his fists close and open in anxiousness. “Should’ve corrected her.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you breathe out, furrowing your brows in confusion. “It’s okay.”

Jimin resits the urge to scoff, scratching the back of his ear. He seems anxious, irritable at worst. You haven’t ever seen him like this before, even when you saw him half-naked when you burst into his room.

“When that cashier told you the same thing when you were holding Yuri, you corrected them immediately,” he tries to level his voice, taking everything in him not to burst at the seams. “Why’s that, hm?”

You don’t know where Jimin’s getting at and it perplexes you, the bag of pastries you brought up to him discarded somewhere already. With the way he’s standing, he looks like he’s waiting for a wrong answer — the thing is, there isn’t any.

“Because I’m not her mom,” you say it matter-of-factly, eyes narrowing at how Jimin looks hostile with you.

“Well you’re not that kid’s mom either,” he says condescendingly, squeezing out a disgruntled snicker from you when you slowly start to see what he’s getting at.

“And that is true too, Jimin,” you confirm for him, your gaze on him unrelenting. Your patience starts to tick, your fuse obviously longer than Jimin’s. “It’s not that deep.”

He loudly scoffs at that, putting his hands on his hips. He rethinks to how he’s almost been here two months and all of the time the two of you shared and yet here you are, telling him that it wasn’t a big deal. Sure, you’re neither Yuri nor Suki’s mom, but there’s just something to the way you stand and look now — something that tells him you’re belittling his feelings.

“I’ll pay you a dollar for you to unclench,” you add belatedly, the delivery at the context striking Jimin the wrong way that he just can’t hold back.

“Do you find this funny?” he shakes his head, breathlessly laughing. “Or was that not even a joke?”

“Well do you hear-…” you counter but you’re interrupted, the way Jimin’s looking at you now makes you feel both angry and inferior. This is just so trivial for you but for reasons you can’t grasp, it’s huge to Jimin.

“Because that’s what you’re good at, right? Paying other people off? You know, throwing your money at other people’s faces just because you can?” Jimin burns you with his words and you recoil, your tongue pressed to your cheek at his gall. You try not to let it get to you, the laugh that escapes you dripping with sarcasm.

“That’s rich, Jimin. Fucking hilarious.”

Jimin swallows the lump on his throat — you can’t possibly know, can you? Maybe it’s your wording that throws him off, or maybe it’s the glance you have on him that’s so empty, it reflects pools and pools of your growing indifference the past few weeks.

He can’t stop opening his mouth, chest heaving from being overwhelmed.

“Is being mistaken for Yuri’s mother such a shame to you?” he spits, gaze following you because you’re already turning away from him.

You try to get out of the room before you say something you don’t mean, to hit him where it hurts; the words in your mind far from desirable. It would ruin Jimin, perhaps even the way he regards his parenting for his daughter who only has him.

You swing the door open when Jimin lays it on you one more time, making you freeze.

“Is my daughter just so bad you can’t even call her by her name?”

Jimin sees you stutter in your steps, shoulders lowering. You can’t say anything in your honor, not even having the strength to mumble a half-assed snarky remark.

What Jimin can only see is you looking back at him with tears in your eyes, the hollowness in them enough for him to see himself — full of hurt and misplaced rage.

( ♡ )

The next day that Jimin sees you, he can barely even recognize you.

You’re still dressed the the same, the same amount of gravitas radiating from you and the same elegance poised even in your shadow. But now, now you look unrecognizable.

Jimin feels like he’s nobody to you.

You look completely detached, looking only through him and not at him. Even Yuri can sense the shift, eyes glazing and flitting back and forth. It’s supposed to be your routine of having breakfast but here he is, standing pathetically outside of your office because that’s where his hunch led him to.

“There’s a sister hotel just an hour and a half away. Same ratings. There’s rooms for long-term rentals and the discount still applies. I already contacted the manager there, just tell them your name and your daughter’s.”

No.

There’s no fathomable way that you just uttered those words, all with the knowledge that he just told you he’s not leaving yet.

“You can’t do this,” Jimin shakes his head, eyes desperate and distressed. Even Yuri’s eyes snap towards him, mouth parting in concern because she could feel the anxiety radiating off from him.

“Your setup would be almost exactly the same. It’s still in the city,” you insist pointedly, trying not to look at him for too long. You want to keep this as short as possible anyway.

“Y/N, you can’t do this!” he’s begging you now, the heaviness in his chest sinking deeper and deeper.

“I can.”

Jimin shakes his head, screwing his eyes shut. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go — the plan was to beg for your forgiveness and explain his mistakes if you ever give him the chance to. He didn’t expect he would run out so quickly.

“If you have a problem with me, confront me about it. Let’s fight about it. Don’t just literally take me out of the equation so you could avoid it,” he tries to remain stubborn, breathless at the thought that you’re resorting to this without hearing his side of the coin.

“I don’t want to fight with you. Who am I to fight with you?” you snap, voice wavering in addition. “You’re no one to me as much as I’m nobody to you.”

Jimin takes offense at that, mouth gaping in surprise, He can’t believe you at all.

“You can’t just say that as if-…”

“As if you’re only a guest here in my hotel?” you interrupt him, just as the many times he did before. “I have the money to relocate you to a different hotel while you’re figuring things out. I have the money, Jimin — let me be the bigger person.”

“You’re just proving what I said,” he whispers out of anger, tears pricking. It stings so bad, the hurt so overpowering that even Yuri’s weight in his arms can’t hold him down. “Y/N, you are so goddamn shallow.”

You reach your breaking point the moment Jimin utters his reply, voice raising that it swallows him whole.

“If I’m shallow, would I have turned a blind eye to you stealing from me?”

Jimin stands in front of you. Raw, vulnerable, and ashamed.

He wants the ground to swallow him whole. Yuri heard you and if only she could fully understand, she’d know too how shitty of a dad he is. After all, she was wide awake and watching when he got his hands on your purse.

“You knew?” he whispers, the tears running down freely on his cheeks. You didn’t even want him to know that you were aware; it just slipped out of you.

“I-I was in a tough spot. I didn’t… I-I needed it for-…”

“And I knew that. I didn’t do anything about it because I knew you needed it,” your voice softens, chest tightening at the thought that you hit him where it hurts. That although it’s not the entirety of your intrusive thoughts that begged to be aired out, it still hurt.

“Why didn’t you? Fuck, why do you have to be so good? Why do you have to be such a martyr?” Jimin spits, his inner monologue coming into play with so much anger for himself that it spreads to you.

He gathers himself as best as he could, holding onto Yuri for dear life because if he doesn’t, he feels like he’ll collapse to his knees. And then he realizes. “So you’re not mad about me stealing from you?”

“No,” you answer silently and truthfully. “You’re a good dad, Jimin,” you praise him even if you’re made at him. Even if you’re fighting and even if you feel so hurt because the truth is simply the truth, not praise. “And sometimes, good dads need to do what they think is best.”

“You’re not mad at me for stealing your money,” Jimin whispers in realization, shaking his head to get himself to understand. “Then please, tell me, why are you so mad at me?”

You freeze.

And you don’t will yourself to answer.

“The chauffeur’s coming in to drive you an hour from now,” you deflect after a bout of silence, going back into your office and shutting the door on him. “Get to packing.”

“Open up, please. Y/N, you can’t just flee every time,” Jimin heaves, knocking insistently at your door. He’s not only talking about your physical distance but he’s talking about your gaze — how you look so empty and unwilling to let anyone come close this time; even before he said the shit he did.

Jimin leans to the door, clawing at it weakly before he hears Yuri starting to sniffle before she breaks out into a sob.

“Let me in.”

#womp womp womp :// how do we feel .#jimin imagine #jimin oneshot #jimin oneshots #jimin angst #jimin angst imagine #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #jimin au #single dad jimin au #dilf jimin #park jimin imagine #park jimin oneshot #jimin scenario #jimin fanfic #jimin x you #bts jimin imagine

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vampykween · 5 months

Note

HI MICCC :3 hope you are well!! i’ve been brainrotting about ur singledad!simon and here’s a list of scenarios nd thoughts that’s been plaguing my mind

what if poppy got into a fight at school? the fight was short because you pulled them apart almost instantly - but she still got her hair pulled and a scratch on her cheek, and poppy knows from simon that fighting isn’t the best option, but when simon answers your call and hears poppy’s crying in the background, how would he react!!

the way kids like to overshare and have no filter, i can see poppy casually telling you stuff like “yeah my daddy has no friends” or “daddy doesn’t talk much”.. and then when simon comes to pick her up, maybe you two have a small convo and you accidentally slip up and mention what poppy’s told you about him.. then he looks and poppy and you like 🤨what else did you hear..

Oklfldldg how does simon do father daughter nights! is he the type to play competitively in games with her or does he always let her win? does he like taking her out to eat or does he prefer cooking at home :3

AAAA okay last one i promise:3 how do the other kids react to poppy’s behemoth of a dad? are they scared? do they think he’s a mafia boss of some sort? or do they find him incredibly awesome and think he’s a giant from those action movies

(ofc u don’t have to do all of them if u don’t want to OR if u don’t want to spoil anything for the series, just some thoughts! take ur time<3)

hi bby! i am very well right now actually and this made things even better, i could kiss your brain truly mwah <3

i will be saving these ideas because this gave me much needed inspiration and motivation for this series. also sorry if i didnt go as in depth with these, but the longer they sat in my drafts i realized i was never going to remember to finish oops! also i hope you dont mind i will be stealing the oversharing poppy idea if fits perfectly with what i have going for part 3 hehe

✴︎ I feel like simon would be fuming, at whom he’s not even sure. I imagine that some kid said something rude and snarky to her and she couldn’t take it anymore and popped on them, and you’re shocked because poppy is normally such a sweet little girl. Simon would definitely hug poppy close because seeing his baby hurt cuts like a knife, takes her out for ice cream and then chides her because omg! has she lost her mind fighting at school, but also he’s a tiny bit proud she’s a fighter like him.

✴︎No because Poppy would most definitely do this, in her head she’s just rattling off mundane things about her father, but you’re sporting a frown because there’s a tiny part of you that hates the idea of Simon being alone with just poppy. Not that it’s any of your business though (you would definitely have to remind yourself of that).

Simon is groaning at his daughter’s perceptive nature and how willing she is to share every thought she has. When you waved him over to where you were during school pick up, Simon was praying something bad hadn't happened. “Mr. Riley, err Simon, sorry.” you correct yourself quickly at the raised eyebrow look he gives you. “Is everything okay… like at home?” you’re mentally face palming at the way you blurted out the very intrusive question. You sense his shock by the question by the almost imperceptible widening of his eyes. “Why-” he looks down at Poppy who’s swinging her tiny hand in his, not paying any attention to the conversation you two are having, “What did she say to you?” You wring your hands nervously, the older man’s deadpan stare makes you feel like you’re in trouble for some reason. “Poppy mentioned to me that you don't have any friends or talk much to anybody. I don't mean to pry, really I swear. Kids will tell you anything, i'm sure you know. After what happened with the family tree thing and-” You're cut off by Simon’s large hand settling on your shoulder, clearly an attempt to calm you down and halt your rambling, but it has the opposite effect and all you can think about is how enormous his hands are and the weight of it grasping you. “No need to apologize, Poppy talks my ear off about you. I’d be surprised if she didn’t talk to you about things. And you don't need to worry about me, luv. Im fine being alone, i've got my little petal and that’s enough f’me.” There’s an aura of wistfulness in his words, that makes you want to push him for a more truthful answer, but you chide yourself at your thoughts. You barely know this man. Whatever longing you think is in his voice may as well be a projection of your own sadness; a failed long term relationship will do that to a person.

✴︎Definitely loves to play games but does not let Poppy win because he wants her to learn how to lose and be okay with it. (You would applaud this btw, this is every teachers’ dream. Trust me on that). Their father-daughter nights also will be movie nights with as many sweets as poppy desires because Simon won't bend to anything but her little puppy dog eyes. I feel like even though he’s not the best cook ever Simon would go out of his way to cook Poppy’s favorites for her. Especially like on a saturday morning and wakes her up with breakfast in bed because why not spoil his little girl if he can.

✴︎I think it's a mix of both really. I imagine Poppy goes to some nice fancy school because why not lol. And some of Poppy's classmates have snooty rich parents who turn their noses up at Simon so their kids are kinda wary of him too. I think Poppy would hype up her dad so much at recess time. Telling stories of how he used to be a ‘super cool soldier’ and all the other kids would be staring in awe like omg your dad is so cool, my dad just does people’s taxes lol.

#mic answers #second chances au #oc: poppy #i lied please bless me with the motivation to actually finish the parts for this series...#i have too many half started drafts ughhhhh

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isbus · 7 months

Text

So I’m back…

But this time, I have a tutorial!

Do you have a 3DS?

(If you say yes to that, then we’re cooking).

Do you want to draw something similar if not better than…

THIS?!

Then boy I have a tutorial for you!

Since this was drawn on a 3DS, I can’t really tell you anymore than for a 3DS. Sorry..

Step One: Prep!

Grab your 3DS and go to “Nintendo 3DS Camera”! Or whatever it might be called if you have a “New” one.

Optional: If you want you can take a picture within the game- if it’s capable of doing so.

For me I’m gonna use a screenshot from Miitopia.

Step 2: Background!

Part 1: Plain Backgrounds

If you want something like the following image, follow this part’s instructions.

Take a random full screen sized image. Any image will work as long as it fits the screen perfectly. (Take a screenshot from a game such as Tomodachi Life or Miitopia).

Tap the image so that it says graffiti.

Then use a stamp, such as the dialogue bubble.

Hold the stamp and make sure it fills the corners.

Then you have a plain white background! This one you can press finish,but the other method you can’t.

Here’s a quick video tutorial, because I don’t think I phrased it right!

(I took it on my phone, that’s how easy it is).

Part 2: Backgrounds that aren’t pure white!

If you want to make the starting image (but your own), then follow these steps!

(Once again, I’m using Miitopia screenshots for an example).

Once again, GRAFFITI!

Instead of using a stamp, you might have to just color it yourself. Mainly because the stamp method is harder for backgrounds like the first one.

COLOR THE BACKGROUND, BUT DON’T DRAW ANYTHING ELSE. (Unless you just want to draw a background). Trust me, it’s easier.

Boom! Plain background ready for sketching.

Don’t press finish cause it can decrease the quality with enough graffitiing and finishing.

Step 3: Draw the Base!

You gotta draw that body-ody-ody!

Just draw a bust or whatever is easier for you. “Omg IsBus you have to have drawing skills?!” Yeah I know. How could I?

I’m gonna draw the bust up because it’s easier for me.

(Don’t look at me like that.)

For the plain BG ones, just do the same thing for the rest of the steps but for your screen.

Since the background hasn’t been saved, don’t use the eraser because it will remove the white BG. Unless you are using the first background method, that is. (Use the white pencil.)

Step 4: Draw the character / Coloring Page Step!

On the plain BG you can draw what ever but for me and my Miitopia character, I’m gonna draw him. If you did the color-only-a-part-of-the-drawing method (like I’m doing), you can do whatever still.

Think of the white area as a green screen; you can draw whatever you want on it.

This phase is like the pencil part of a physical drawing. White out the base as you get to parts you want over it (for example: hair or clothes).

Bam! Coloring page!

Part 5: Coloring!

Remember when I called it a coloring page? This is why.

Color the drawing how you see fit!

If you’re using the all white bg, then you might have to use the stickers or the rainbow pencil. I recommend the stickers if you want to shade/shine, but if you want more options, use the rainbow brush.

If you’re basically doing what I’m doing, you can use the colors from the image to color your character!

Once you’re done coloring the image, remember to ink the lines again! Use a medium brush for coloring but a thin brush for inking the lines.

Part 6: Final Details!

For people who want any additional details, or need to clean up edges.

If you did the plain bg you can decorate and clean up as much as you need!

If you’re doing what I’m doing, you can clean up the edges of the white spot and add additional details.

And Voila! You did it!

If you have a 3DS and followed my tutorial, show me what you did! I wanna see it!

Have a good day/night! And thank you for reading!

~IsBus

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floralcavern · 8 months

Text

What if Patroclus didn’t go to Troy with Achilles (1/3)

T/W: Suicide

I felt the anger well up in my chest. He knew now he shall die at Troy. He knew now he would leave me, alone. All alone. Again. Like I used to be before Achilles.

I clenched my fists so hard they turned white. I saw the look on his face when he saw my own reaction.

“Patroclus-“ he said softly, reaching for my tightened fist, but I pull away.

“Fine.. go to Troy. But I will not be coming.”

I saw the horror in his face. I hated the satisfaction that it gave me. But, I wanted him to regret his decision.

“I cannot go to Troy with you, as you go battle to battle, I never knowing if it will be your last. Never knowing if someone will return to the camp and bring the news that you have fallen.”

He stumbled and landed on his knee before me, desperation in his eyes. “Patroclus.”

I feel my heart ache. Pa-tro-clus…

I turn my head. “I don’t think I can bare watching you every day, waiting for you to die..” I forced any tears that dared try to make their way out to cease.

The pain and sorrow on his face. I had never seen him like this. So helpless and full of despair. It almost made me change my mind. But I stayed firm. I got off of my knees and stormed out of the bedroom and left. I didn’t know where I’d l go for the time being. Just anywhere but here.

The days of preparation, I couldn’t bare to be around him. Every time I saw him, the grief of his death yet to come. I knew this hurt him. Some part of me was happy it was. Maybe then he would change his mind.

Oh, I was being cruel. I hated that I was. I knew Achilles always wanted to go down as a remembered hero. If he became forgotten, that would be such of waste of his strength. So I understood why he joined the war, but.. I can’t be there when he dies.

As we sailed home, he occupied himself with speaking to Odysseus.

I desperately wanted to hold him. To be with him, just like the many nights we’ve had since that night on Mount Pelion in the crystal cave..

Once we arrived in Phthia and Achilles greeted his father, the two of us headed to our old room.

We were alone for the first time since our fight. He gave me an anxious look, I had noticed from the corner of my eye.

The cot had been removed so we’d have to share a bed. We’d gotten used to this. In fact, we preferred it, but it was painful.

When he lied next to each other, he was warm, and yet it felt like lying next to a corpse.

“Patroclus..”

His voice ran through my head.

His hands reached to hold mine, his hand perfectly fitting into mine, like Prometheus had crafted our hands from the same cut stones.

“I will live..” he whispered.

“You cannot try and avoid The Fates. Every hero who has tried has died a horrible death..”

“But I might be different!”

“Jason probably said those same words. And Heracles. Every hero has probably said those words. You’ve said it yourself. They don’t let you be both famous and happy.”

“I swore it..” he reached out and I felt his warm hand graze against my arm. “You swore it too..”

“We swore it back when we thought it to be possible..”

I felt his hand slowly fall off.

I felt my heart sink with guilt.

“I love you..” he whispered.

I didn’t respond.

I noticed that in the last few days he stayed in Phthia, he was always busy, crowded, as he and his men prepared to set off for the war.

Our nights were quiet with one another, with no passion or speaking or warmth. We would just lie there. He seemed exhausted from working so much. He looked older. I hated it. I hated seeing the once free spirited and young looking boy looking so tired and worn.

And when he left, when I saw the fleet of what seemed like 100 ships, once they were gone, it dawned on me.

I would never see him again.

I didn’t know what made my throat so raw.

Until I realized.

I had sobbed and screamed until I could no longer produce any more noise.

In just one week of laying in bed, I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take the pain. The longing. The memories.

I missed his touch. His smile. His humor. His charm.

I missed watching him run, watching him train, watching the sun shine through his hair.

I missed his warmth. The smell of the oils he would rub on his feet. The sweetness of his lips.

I. Missed. Everything.

I’m surprised I even made it a week of this pain when I decided that I had enough.

I took a barely anything with me. My mother’s lyre. His favorite hunting dagger.

I wanted to go out with my greatest possessions. The things I cared for the most. The idea of my mother’s lyre being sold off as junk. The idea of his dagger being used as a novelty to remember the great warrior, Achilles. I hated both of those ideas.

So I brought them with me. They would be the last things I would hold before Thanatos finds my spirit and sends my soul down to the house of Hades.

I tread up the mountain. Mount Pelion. I had a specific spot to end it all. I would camp out day after day until I would reach the spot.

The spot in the woods. The spot where I would let out my deepest thoughts and desires of Achilles. The spot where I would simply just daydream. I sit in the same spot, leaning against a tree. I place the lyre in my lap. I pluck the strings between my fingers. I remember how beautifully Achilles would play this lyre.

I lift his hunting knife to my neck.

I remember when Achilles had pressed his finger against the bulb in my throat..

I remember every touch he used to make on my body. Every moment. All the warmth.

And then I felt the coldness of my life before meeting him creep along my body as I fall into the grass, blood staining my hands and Achilles’ knife.

I feel the world drift away. I feel it all about to end.

But, I then hear quick noises running toward me. Heavy footsteps.

No. Not footsteps. Hooves.

I feel Chiron lift my body. I don’t remember what happens next.

I just know I woke up in his crystal cave afterward.

#The Song of Achilles #TSOA #fanfic #part 1 #achilles #patroclus #patrochilles

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year

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Part 3 of Steve Disappearing

Brittney was feeling less good about this as the night went on. There was no way Mr. Eddie was gonna let her babysit again if he found out about this. He was one of the least strict parents she knew, but even he would’ve drawn the line at this. Driving a bunch of kids under cover of darkness to Hawkins seemed like a good idea at the time though. That is until Lucy revealed she didn’t know exactly where to look. Or what they were even looking for.

“Why don’t we go to the sites of the murders?”, Noah suggested.

Brittney slammed on the brakes. “Murders?! That’s what we’re doing here?! I thought we were gonna, I don’t know, go somewhere important to you and your dad.”

“Important....let’s go to the high school!”

Brittney let out a breath. She had been reading books on teenage development (never mind that she was still waist-deep in her youth) so she felt that she should guide Lucy even in her misguided actions. And her dad was all rock and roll and down with authority, so he’d understand if they broke into a school in another town, right?

“The school records would have info on gang activity with students, right? Even if it was just regular fighting, that sort of stuff goes on your permanent record”, Lucy said.

Ashley looked up at the intimidating walls of the school. “This is gonna go on our permanent record if we get caught.”

“Actually, we’ll just go to jail”, Noah said.

“No, you’ll go to juvie, I’ll go to jail”, Brittney said. “So let’s be stealthy, look at those records, and be outta here.”

Lucy was prepared to look for a window to sneak in through, or perhaps try getting in through the roof, when she heard the creak of a door. Somehow, the gym had been left open. What luck!

“Guys, let’s go!”

Not waiting for an answer, she raced for the door, only for it to shut right behind her. There was a bit of light from the windows, but she took out her flashlight too.

“Guys?”, she pointed it towards the door.

She felt a chill creep up her spine and she looked around. It was a normal gym. Just a basketball court and some bleachers. But these places always seemed creepier at night. Lucy wondered if her dads stared down gang rivals here. Then it got so cold she could see her breath. And then it seemed as though that mist was filling the room. And then it turned to black smoke. Lucy rubbed her eyes. It was past her bedtime but there was no way she was this tired.

Then the smoke began to form a figure, first unrecognizable, and then slowly it turned more familiar. From the smoke emerged her father, Steve.

“Dad?”, she gasped. Lucy was in such shock, she didn’t hear the door slam open. “Dad!”, she started to run towards his outstretched arms but someone held her back. “Wha?”

“That’s not your father”, an old woman said.

“Lucy”, Steve called. And it was his voice but also not only his voice but Lucy didn’t know what that meant.

“We’re not falling for your tricks.” Lucy turned her head at the new voice and this one was an old man who seemed like someone she knew but couldn’t completely recall. And he had a gun aimed at her dad.

Steve tilted his head. “I’ve never tricked anyone. I have only ever spoken the truth.” He looked to Lucy. “I am not your father. But I have made him better.”

A bullet went into his shoulder, but it flew through in a haze of black smoke. Like he wasn’t even there.

“You can’t stop me anymore. Not when I have everything that I need now.” And then he melted back into the darkness. Lucy was scared and confused and tired and overwhelmed and it finally all hit her as she fell to her knees and cried out for her dad.

Heavy footsteps pounded the floor.

“Lucy!!” Suddenly she was being scooped up in a familiar embrace as she sobbed. She thought she’d been getting too big to be carried like this but Eddie held her no problem, like she would always fit perfectly in his arms.

“Joyce, chief, thank you so much.”

“I haven’t been chief in years, kid.”

“And he hasn’t been a kid in years”, Joyce said. “You know I take Code Reds seriously.”

Eddie was stroking her hair as he tried to calm her. He had only come in the moment Lucy broke down in tears. He’d have to get the whole story later. Because from their reactions and the tension in the room and the unseasonable coldness of the room, it could only mean one thing. The Upside Down was back.

Eddie sends Brittney and the other kids back. The least involved the better. But he takes up Joyce’s offer to go to her and Hopper’s place for the night. He needs to tell Lucy everything. Now. So he gets started on the ride over, holding her hand as he follows Joyce’s car. Tells her how he was indeed accused of murder when it turned out to be an otherworldly demon doing it. And how that demon was of a realm that Steve had been fighting against years before.

“So...you guys weren’t in a gang?”

Despite the ice that had been in his gut, he chuckles. “Not officially, hon.”

He tells her how they narrowly thwarted Vecna back in 86. He tells her how back when she was nine years old, El and Will both felt something going on and they thought they had to fight one last time. They got to the house and the story paused as they got set up. Joyce made them some tea and told them to help themselves to the leftovers and Eddie continued.

“Your dad, El the Hero, and Will the Wise, all went down there for a final showdown.”

“This has to be the end of it”, El said.

Everyone nodded in agreement. That much was certain. Even if they couldn’t destroy the Upside Down, they could cut it off from their world for good.

“That means we’ve gotta be firm on this”, Steve said. “When we finish this, we get out, no dilly-dallying. And close the gate once and for all.”

“No dilly-dallying? Are we talking about a demon dimension or a trip to Disney?”, Robin teased.

“Steve’s right though”, Mike said. “Whoever goes down needs to be quick. We can’t afford to go slow.”

“And it can’t be too many of us”, Nancy added.

“So who goes?”, Lucas asked.

After many hours of figuring out just who would be taking the dive again (arguing, debating, pleading) the team was decided. The stakes were known, but Eddie had no idea what he could stand to lose until Steve pulled him aside.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen down there. I mean with those two it could be a piece of cake”, Steve said, gesturing to the Wonder Twins. “But anything’s possible.”

“What’re you getting at?”, Eddie asked.

“No matter what happens, once the gate is closed, it needs to stay closed.”

Eddie gave him a look like that was obvious. And then Steve leveled him with a stare of his own and Eddie understood, not that he liked it.

“Steve...”

“I’m not saying it could happen. Just, if it does, if for some reason I don’t make it out, don’t keep the gate open. Don’t open it again. Don’t come looking for me.”

Eddie’s eyes began to glisten, hypotheticals be damned because he knew there was always, always a chance it could happen.

“How can you ask that of me?”

“Because you’re the only one they’ll listen to if it comes to this. Husband rights and all.”

“What about Lucy?”

“Hey, I’m doing everything in my power to come back. But someone’s gotta think of worst case scenarios.”

“So dad’s been stuck in that place since then?”, Lucy asked, having eaten just a couple of bites of her food during Eddie’s story.

Eddie ran a hand through his hair. “Well, the thing is, if he was, El would’ve been able to find him. But she never could. From what Joyce and Hopper told me, you saw Vecna using an illusion of his body as a mouthpiece. Vecna can conjure up visions. But him having you father’s physical body...and somehow...cloaking his entire being so he can’t be found would explain the disappearance. The question now is why did he do that, besides for his survival, and why did he reveal himself now...”

Then Eddie looked to her barely touched plate and his own uneaten food and sighed. “We can figure it out later. Let’s get to bed.”

Tagged

@captain-winter-wolf-aehs

#gonna be honest i imagined the reveal scenes like 10 different ways #im still not sure if im satisfied #but that's what fics are for #maybe in the coming months ill write alternate versions #apo writes #stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #also is this the longest part?#this might be the longest one #i was gonna cut it off with eddie getting there #but i wanted him to finally tell her #captain-winter-wolf-aehs

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paellaplease · 2 years

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Oh! Oh! If your okay with it (and after you finish liberosis of course- well actually do wut ever you’d like! Don’t wanna overwhelm you with anything!) do you mind writing an “ansare” for Revali x reader? Write how ever you’d like it!! Keep up the grand work!! <3

25. ansare - to hardly breathe, to be out of breath

pairing: revali x reader summary: it's a beautiful wedding. both you and revali have differing beliefs on the meaning of love.

At the end of autumn, night falls quickly. Revali had drawn the short straw that evening, forced to play armed babysitter for a gaggle of nobles that had nothing better to do than waste their evening parading themselves and slinging all sorts of muck on their expensive finery.

He had swapped his traditional gear for a stiff cream-coloured suit, the top woven from abacá fibers. Though it fit his measurements perfectly, his feathers felt rather suffocated in the formal garb. He stood still as a board, fingers itching for the bow at his back.

At the very least they let him keep his blue scarf for the occasion. Thank Hylia for that.

Eyes scanning the crowd, he settled on the pair of blonde-haired merrymakers by the open buffet table. The Princess and her silent buffoon. The latter was busy eating double his weight in meat skewers, engaged in some idiotic contest against one of the younger dukes of the royal family.

The knight appeared to be winning, much to the delight of the crowd and the Princess herself, who was trying her best to act proper and disinterested but was very, obviously, invested in the whole game.

Someone was calling out numbers. There was a betting pool, because of course there was. Revali rolled his eyes.

He did not react to the telltale clack, clack, clack of heels on the marble floor and the shuffle of fabric by his right shoulder. He did not inhale at the sweet scent of rose oil and jasmine blooms.

I am here to do a job, nothing more. I am a statue. I am stone.

"Always wondered where he keeps the space for all of it?" You said, poking his side playfully.

Taking a sip of your drink, you bent your knees, 'ducking' the glare he sent your way. Instead of walking off and leaving him to his work in peace, you crowed, "Hey 'Vali, another missive has arrived from Lord Lemon's Office, he said he wants his face back."

Revali sighed, eyes glancing at you for a millisecond before shooting back forward. He caught the blue accents of your outfit, a simple embroidered hummingbird with its long beak in a flower. He hid a smile behind a cough.

You'd been flitting around the party in a similar fashion, wide eyes drinking in the bright colours and delicious smells. It was quite the change.

On the road, you were always more subdued, ears to the ground for the slightest sound of danger. Your opponents complained that you were all bite and no bark, barely uttering a word until the task was done.

In all your traveling together before the Calamity, he'd rarely seen you so relaxed and open. "This is an event for royalty. Are you certain you're allowed to be here?"

"Oh, relax!" Your smile really was something else. "It's the first wedding of peacetime! The whole Castle Town was invited."

The Chosen One was up to his last plate of skewers. The Princess wasn't even pretending to pay attention to her conversation with the Ambassador from Lanayru anymore.

When one of the children in the audience had started a chant. Revali scoffed and turned his attention to the main family of the hour instead. One of the bridesmaids had proposed another toast, the newly wedded couple stealing a kiss to the sound of clinking glasses and cheers.

He tore his gaze away immediately, almost awkwardly. The action didn't go unnoticed.

Revali could feel your eyes on the side of his face. You chuckled at his displeasure, raising your glass to the newlyweds from a distance and taking another long drink. He tried to tamp down the tendril of heat crawling up his neck.

"Not a fan of public displays of affection?"

"Pah, I'm not a fledgling that hides behind their wings at the sight of a kiss." He snapped, immediately regretting it. You were having fun and he was on edge. What was wrong with him?

This is why you have no friends, an old voice from a lifetime ago in the foundling home, taunted him in his memories.

"Woah," you grinned, placing both hands up in mock surrender. "I never said that, grumpy." Reaching out, you rubbed his back with a warm hand, patting the feathers that you knew were already raised as if to say 'I get it, it's alright.'

He relaxed his shoulders by a fraction. The easy way you navigated his prickly demeanor was a talent and a mark of extreme patience that always eluded him. He appreciated it nonetheless. Not that he would ever admit it.

The both of you watched the main wedding party, you with rapt attention and him with little to no interest. With a glance, he took note once more of all the possible entrances and exits. His keen eyes surveyed the open hall, on the lookout for anything suspicious.

Brunette guest three persons behind the Princess with the round spectacles is reaching into his pocket by the buffet. A knife? No. Just a cloth to wrap his last slice of banana bread.

One of the flower girls had tripped over her frilly dress and began to cry. The groom quickly scooped her up, tossing her in the air until those tears turned to giggles, and those giggles turned into laughter. As soon as the child was safely on the ground, the bride smiled, throwing her arm over her husband's shoulder and bringing him in for another kiss.

Beside Revali, you sighed happily. The expression you wore was soft and content, making his heart do odd flips in his chest. "Isn't love just the best?"

On the concept of love, a few things came to mind. It was cool hands pressed to his burning face while the healer pulled an arrow from his leg. It was in the carefully cut pieces of fruit shared in the hush of an empty palace kitchen. It was a single lantern shining at his doorstep, leading him home after a mission that went for longer than it should have.

Thinking of these next to you made him seriously want to sink into the floor. He uncrossed his wings, holding them flipped up as if in prayer. “Blessed Valoo, strike me down and release me from this anodyne shindig, will you?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "Nooo Revali, don't have your soul extinguished by a divine higher power you're so sexy aha." You smirked, examining your nails. “Also, did you just say shindig?”

Revali scoffed, trying not to preen at the earlier statement. It was a joke, they didn't mean it.

"It's a biological bribery."

"What? Love? You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Hmph. It's hard to refute science. Love is the mortal bid to establish safety and connection. Have children, secure your genetic line, die and let the future generation deal with the rest. Chemicals puppeteering our actions. All that arguing that it's some remarkable gift is all merely conjecture."

You snorted. He could feel your eyes on him again. “What are you talking about? Love is amazing. It’s the thing that makes us most human yet the closest we ever feel to being a god. It is to grieve in the happiest way possible. It persists beyond rhyme and reason, beyond death even."

“You’re drunk.”

You frowned, bringing the glass chalice closer to his beak. He sniffed. Water.

Stretching out your pinky, you winked, before downing the whole thing.

"So you're saying," the orchestra was picking up again. Guests were standing from their seats, intending to dance. "That if one amounted to nothing, achieved nothing, and failed at what they had set out to do, traits that dash anyone's chances at being an adequate mate- you would still love them?"

You would still love me?

"Of course," you said, much too quickly.

Revali swallowed audibly, beak clacking open and closed before settling on a simple: "Why?"

"Caring for someone isn't an on and off switch. Was this hypothetical person intending to do good? Did they at least try?"

He thought upon his response for a moment and answered vaguely. "For the most part, yes. But not all of their efforts were for selfless reasons."

The dance was beginning now, people facing their chosen partners and assuming their starting positions. You shrugged, placing your empty glass at a nearby table. "It is normal to want things, especially for yourself..."

Your voice trailed away, and he followed your gaze to the corner of the room. They were an elderly couple, supporting each other in a close embrace, slowly swaying to the music. From his memory of the ceremony, he supposed these were the grandparents of the bride. They were unhurried and out of time, yet completely absorbed in each other's presence, like two old birds in a nest.

"Life is so short and so cruel, Revali." Beyond the dance a cacophony of sounds erupted from the buffet table. The plates were stacked near to the ceiling and Daruk had the quiet knight in a festive headlock. "If we keep holding our breath at the fear that happiness would be snatched away from us, if we continue guarding ourselves against an invisible enemy, then when will we ever be able to celebrate the love we have kept safe?"

On the dance floor, Mipha was twirling her little brother, their matching silver headpieces and necklaces reflecting rainbow colours as they spun gracefully.

By the wedding party, the princess had brought the bride into a tight hug, the both of them gently wiping away their tears. Urbosa wasn't too far away, at ease as she spoke to the parents of the couple, perhaps reminiscing of the past.

Nodding to yourself, you seem to have met a conclusion to a long running problem in your head. Revali thought back to the words left unspoken by countless campfires. The smell of ointment in the healer's hut, the sweet taste of apricots, the one light in the darkness when all but you had gone to sleep.

"I'm glad to be alive," you said finally.

"I am thankful for that too," he declared honestly, tilting his head to catch the way your eyes crinkled in pure joy, the light of the rainbow on your cheek.

Your hand reached for the wing at his side, the tips of your fingers gently brushing him in permission. He bridged the gap slowly, weaving his blue feathers along your palm until it was cradled securely in his own.

It was warm and right, just like the rest of you.

Revali watched in wonder as you brought his wing closer, feathers raising at the soft brush of your lips. And felt, then and there, the world exhale.

#revali x reader #revali botw x reader #revali #revali/reader #revali botw #botw rito #botw #botw x reader #i just *clenches fist* have lots of feelings above love

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lamppostss · 21 days

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"Fevers" [3/3] (Disc)

“Are you sleeping?” in hushed whisper asked Soleil a while later. To his surprise the rogue responded. “No, not really. What about it?” “Just… Just checking. I can heat up some soup if you prefer…” “Sounds… Sounds good actually!” the woman almost sprung back to life, laying down on her back again. “Has anyone told you you’d make a good servant? Because you totally would. If that whole wizarding business doesn’t work out – I heard mom is hiring again.” Once again, with a smug smirk, chuckled Ra’anir. Soleil however, was not smiling. In fact, something inside of him snapped, as the exhaustion peaked. “Please go fuck yourself.” “Oi, what’d I say? It’s just…” “A joke. I know. Just like everything to you is a joke, you blue-blooded brat.” The wizard got up, still drenched in sweat and doubt. “You are a goddamn child. Prancing around, getting into everyone’s shit for no reason, imagining yourself some unstoppable daring hero, while being just some girlie with an overblown ego and no care for others. I am done.” The man left the room, slamming the door behind him. He could still hear the muffled obscenities hurled at his back, but nothing would stop him now. He went downstairs, the world around him surrounded by heavy fog, and collapsed onto a small, wooden chair. The emotions swirling within him were swiftly getting overpowered by an unparalleled amount of distress and exhaustion, slowly shutting his body off, limb by limb. He didn’t notice as he passed out. He only thought about needing a rest. He woke up soon after. “What the fuck did I just do?” the wizard asked himself. It was more of a rhetorical question, as he perfectly realized what just happened, redirecting all the anger from outside back inside. Soleil clasped his head with his hands, cursing himself. For being so weak, for giving in into his anger. No sane person would’ve done that in his place. He should apologize. No. He must apologize. The felt like a piece of human waste opening that door once again. There she was. Curled up on her bed. He hurt her. He knew he did. He placed a heated up bowl on the bedside table, all while keeping his head down, with the shame he felt weighing his whole being down. No reaction from the dragonborn – she must’ve fallen asleep again. Le’Garde had not a clue what to say. He could only stand there and hurl insults at himself, once again feeling worthless. It was all just like home again.

“I’m sorry, Valla.” He mumbled sheepishly, sitting down on the floor near the bed, pressing his knees against his chin. “I’m… so, so sorry. I was an idiot. And still am. I knew what was going on and yet… I… I cracked. I’m weak. I knew it isn’t your fault. I knew I shouldn’t insult you and run away. I… I don’t know…” the wizard mumbled, feeling a ball form inside his throat. “I know I am wrong. And I apologize. For what I said, for what I did. It was… moronic.” Soleil felt as if something started pressing down between his ribs. Why did it hurt so much to just say he’s sorry? Why was it so difficult to pick words, when the act itself was so simple? Was it weakness? Stupidity? Was he simply just not enough? Unknowingly to himself, he rambled on. “I thought I was better. I spent most of my life wiping vomit and spit off of brothel floors, and after I got my chance – moved on to serving insufferable blue bloods in Neue Luex. And I thought I was above it all. Above all that pettiness and drama. Yet here I am. Maybe I should go back. I’d fit right in…” as he spoke, his usual mannerisms dropped, replaced by a shaky voice and an urge to incinerate himself on the spot. He barely managed to compose himself back in with a heavy sigh. He was weary. And angry. He should be so much better, yet he isn’t. Worthless. “I’m sorry, once again. I never wanted to hurt you. Yet I did. I… I won’t bother you anymore. Sorry. Sleep well…”

“Can you stop with the self-flagellation, man?” suddenly grumbled Vallarys, turning to her side to face Soleil, eye to eye. She sounded… sad. Sad and tired. Her gaze was full of melancholic meekness. “You’re an ass. I know. But… But aren’t we all, really? You let a joke get under your skin. Had a hissy fit. That… That happens, okay? Big shocker, but you CAN feel emotions. It is, in fact, legal. Dumbass…” she went quiet for a second. “You owned up to it. Good, I-I forgive you. Now please stop… whatever this is. I didn’t know your life was like it was, pushed the wrong buttons, got yelled at a bit. See, I’m an ass too. Maybe a lesser ass out of us two, but…” Vallarys let out a shaky, but heavy sigh. “I shouldn’t’ve done that anyways.” Interjected the wizard. “Well yes. You should’ve told me about your past sooner. Then I would’ve gone… Well, easier on the jokes, I don’t know.” Her eyes lowered a bit. “It’s okay. I understand it all. Just… Just accept that we can’t be always rational. Nobody’s perfect, man. And if they are – fuck ‘em sideways anyways. Being perfect is boring.” They sat in silence, when suddenly her hand reached out from under the blanket, grabbing his. “I never wanted to hurt you either, Sol. And it hurts me to see you like this, even if you did a stupid thing. So please, let’s just… not. Water under the bridge. I forgive you, but ask one more thing.” Vallarys looked deep into Soleil’s icy blue eyes. “Promise me to be yourself. It will be better this way, I swear.” The man went quiet. Shocked, sad, shaken and touched to the core of his soul.

“Promise.” As the unknown illness subsided, the group was fit to move further north, through the mountains. They’ve been through many dangers, but in the end – they reached it. A dwarven hold, a giant stone carved city, older than nine-tenths of everything else on this disk. Neither Torgrim, nor Lavender were aware of what exactly happened that night – for it was a secret for two.

============================================================ The group found themselves in a luxury boarding house. It was a (presumably) dark and cold mountain night. A norm for many rock dwarves, but a bit of a shake up for surfacers. As Soleil laid in the dark, he felt a sudden presence weigh down the side of his bed. “Why hello there.” A familiar voice. Vallarys had somehow gotten into his room and crawled onto his bed without making a single noise. Impressive, considering everything. “How did you get here?” “The door.” “And why did you get here?” “My room is cold. And lame. And it’s not like we’re in a big hurry anyway – just wanted to look around.” With an innocent look on her face answered the dragonborn, right before leaning in closer, her breath tickling the wizard’s nose. “Besides, someone here didn’t get properly compensated for his… Medicinal skills. I, as a great hero, can’t let such injustice slide, can I?” Soleil’s eyes widened slightly, and one of his eyebrows arched. “Go on.” “What? Just pick a reward, dum-dum. You’re the doctor here.” Le’Garde hesitated. He knew what he wanted, but did he dare to speak his mind? He made that promise, after all… “Is a kiss from a great hero on the menu?” with a surprisingly (even to the mage himself) flirtatious tone of voice and a provocative smirk asked the man. The rogue leaned in even closer, holding the fair headed man up by his sharp chin with her index finger and her thumb. They could feel their breath flutter against each other’s skin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#my writing #oc writing #writing #dungeons and dragons #dnd #lampposts disc #my ocs #writeblr #writers on tumblr

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skinnyscottishbloke · 10 months

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Top 10 Heartstopper Moments (including books, if you've read them)

Oh lorddddddd you’re really out here asking the hard questions huh. Ok. I’m gonna go from the show because while I have read the books it was only once last fall and at this point the show is ingrained in my brain so it’s easier to reference. Also these aren’t really in order of importance because I love all of them. A lot.

1. The first kiss scene!! Omg the tension, the stares, the pinky touches, the toe scooch, Charlie being SO BRAVE, jesus every single thing was so top tier and SO. WELL. ACTED. Insane. It’s insane!! I literally can’t sit still while watching it. Even the music placement was perfect. And the animations of course.

2. The kiss/convo/hug in Charlie’s bedroom This was one of the scenes that won Kit his Emmy I s2g. The actual kiss (hands!! tippytoes!!), the confusion after, Charlie’s reassuring look and comforting hug, all of it was, again, so well acted and emotional and uhhhhh I can’t with these two!!!

3. Nick’s speech to Charlie in the hallway Quite possibly the most perfect romantic declaration of feelings speech in any show or movie maybe ever??? And I love the parallel from earlier; instead of Nick making a move to stop the nervous stream of consciousness chatter from Charlie, it’s Charlie reassuring Nick and kissing him to stop Nick’s nervous babbling. Just shows how perfect these two are for each other 🥰

4. The photobooth scene They’re just soooo cuuutteeee and the pictures are ADORABLE; Charlie finally getting the date he’s always wanted is so important and honestly the whole beach day is precious.

5. Tara and Darcy’s kiss (and Nick’s reaction) This one hits me right in the feels. There’s so much joy and love and happiness in this, with the perfect beat drop and the rainbow animation. And Nick’s face!!! He wants what they have!! He knows he can get it with Charlie!! It’s a fantastic moment for Tara and Darcy and a wonderful motivator for Nick in terms of plot progression.

6. The bowling alley/arcade party This one might be cheating cause it has 4 of my fav moments but we’ll lump them all together anyway. First, the shot of Nick smiling at Charlie during bowling. Boy is literally the definition of heart eyes. Then, the hug. Charlie’s face goes from sad to happy so perfectly and the animations are lovely. Then there’s the gift giving and “that was just one of my favorite days ever” 😭😭 Finally there’s the kiss. So soft and sweet and fluffy. THEY MUST BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS.

7. Charlie running after Nick/the kiss in the rain Charlie literally being like “hi, *cheesy line*, *kiss*, okay bye!!! 😄” and running off. I love him so much!! It’s a perfect capture of butterflies and being impulsively in love, and I have been OBSESSED with What’s It Gonna Be since I first watched it. Actually I’ve been obsessed with the whole soundtrack lbr haha.

8. Nick’s talk with Imogene in the park Another Emmy winning moment. Kit played it SO. WELL. It’s not really a coming out, per say, but to have him phrase how he’s been feeling in a way that Imogene can also identify with in terms of not really fitting in with their group of friends anymore is GENIUS. Alice you amazing writer you.

9. Nick’s coming out scene We knew this one was gonna be on here. God it makes me cry every time. IMPECCABLE acting from both Kit and Olivia and so so important to a lot of people out there, including my bisexual self.

10. The first hug The “you look so cuddly like that” and subsequent hug at Charlie’s house KILLLLL MEEEEEEE. I’m a sucker for hugs anyway so to have it be so soft and slightly awkward followed by Tori’s “I don’t think he’s straight” is PERFECTION. Sheer and utter perfection.

Bonus 11. Handholding/movie theater moments Yes Ep 7 was ROUGH but the “Char” moment, Nick’s face (again!) as he stares at Charlie with heart eyes, and all the pinky and hand holding during the movie was a nice bright spot. My husband Nick (yes Nick, I know lol) and I call each other dork all the time so Charlie leaning up and whispering “you’re a dork” with a giant grin on his face was extra special for me. Also the gay nerd and rugby lad teasing. They’re such good friends and that’s another reason I love them as a couple. They genuinely like each other and find comfort in each other’s company.

Oh jesus I didn’t mention the snow day, or the rugby training montage (Charlie’s little giggle and Nick’s flushed cheeks get me every time), Charlie’s little dance after getting asked on a date, the milkshake cafe, Nick and Tara’s friendship, Tori hugging Charlie, Tori just in general with her older sister magic and snarky comments, running up the stairs at the party, Nick punching Harry, Nick telling Charlie he told Tara and Darcy about them and Charlie’s utter joy at hearing that, the wanting to hold hands on the couch, Nick’s “what? what’s up?”, or about a bajillon other things that make this show my favorite of all time. Seriously how can I pick 10 (or 11 lol) moments??!!!! Everything about this show - writing, acting, music, cinematography, the animations, guh everything is just toooo perfect.

Ask me my Top 5/Top 10 of anything!!!

#anon #anonymous #kate replies #heartstopper #sorry for the novel I just have A LOT OF FEELINNGGSSSS

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mylife09 · 4 months

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TW: Suicide talk, panic attacks, death, sh, grief

Hello! So my binder came and it fits perfectly! I ordered extra large and I was afraid that it would be to big but it fits, and it doesn’t sit to hard so I can’t breathe but it doesn’t fit so loose so it doesn’t bind, so basically it’s doing the job.

My grandma passed away little more than a year ago and I’ve been writing letters to her, it’s really affecting my mental health and I know I shouldn’t continue but I’m not ready to let go of her yet. My mom said that my grandma’s death didn’t affect me so much because I haven’t really shown any emotion about it or anything but I’m always in my room crying, my family and other relatives are a little homophobic and I thought that I would come out to my grandma (the one who’s gone) but I couldn’t write it down, I’m still afraid that she’s not going to love me the same even thought she’s gone. I started writing “I am” I was going to write bisexual and genderfluid but I got a panic attack instead. To be honest ever since she passed I have gotten nightmares about people I love dying or they killing me or leaving me. Last week I had a nightmare about my dad dying and it felt so real that I didn’t realise that it was a dream until he came home from work. I’ve had nightmares about my friends dying, like Ludvig, he’s died 5 times since November 2022. I’ve kept a journal of my dreams and I’ve written down how people died and which person it was. I’ve died so many times that I’m not afraid of death anymore. I don’t know what comes after you die because I wake up every time I die.

I was 20 days sober before I got a nightmare about my friends taking there life’s. I feel like I can’t talk to my friends about stuff like this, I tried talking to a lot of different people but they haven’t really taking it seriously. I haven’t talked to everyone, I’ve talked to people that doesn’t have so much on their shoulders. I don’t want to burden them with my problems. Right now I’m 39 minutes sober from sh. I don’t have a good coping mechanism, so that’s why I end up doing sh or writing pointless letters to my grandma. 3 people know that I’m doing sh, it’s my friend Saga, we were closer when we were younger but we grew apart. The second one is my friend Ludvig, at first I thought he was super amazing and kind but now when I’ve really gotten to know him I think he’s really rude, we reported violation( I used translate for that) and the teacher told him and his mom about it and he told my teacher about some things that Ludvig had told him and honestly I felt bad for him (the guy we reported) but at the same time he did some bad shit to us but I still felt bad for him. He had asked Ludvig and Ceasar (they’re twins) if we three had sex together. There have been a lot of people asking if we three are a couple. Anyway back to the people that knows about my sh. The last person is Hampus, we met at taekwondo training and we just became best friends, he follows me here on Tumblr so, Hi Hampus! He’s the only person that follows me here so I don’t know why I write like any other person will read this. Anyway back to what I was talking about, I could trust Hampus with my life if it came to that, he is really great and deserves the world. Sometimes I think that he’s the only person I could trust.

If you haven’t already figured it out I have adhd, I can’t keep my thoughts at one thing at a time, I just blabber on hahaha

Well I have to stop writing now or else I’ll make an entire book.

Goodbye!

#panic attack #genderfluid #binder #bisexual

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rosaacicularis · 2 years

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hello. sharehouse anon back ^_< !! (won’t be getting rid of me, anytime soon unfortunately. been here for awhile actually!)

the space au…..i want only the best for those two. i want them to thrive and kiss and have a wedding on the moon

the sharehouse exes on the other hand….they are so terrible….you are so right about the others trying to get them to get along and grian and scar are so awkward??? about it??? but it is how it is and roommates be damned they become…somewhat friends again….with that awkward line they don’t wanna cross where maybe i wanna kiss him while he’s washing the dishes or watering the garden but that would mean having to reproach the whole “do you wanna try again” conversation and obviously that’s quite too much for them

AHeksJDJDJD I DID NOT EXPECT TO GO ON FOR THAT LONG I’m a little embarrassed n I do apologise dearly for doing this in ur ask box though I welcome any ramblings of your own in return (hands you unusable coupon)

i want to shake sharehouse!scarian violently /pos…. just like the charged energy between them whenever they’re alone together…. wondering what would happen if they just took the leap… if scar’s lips are still as kissable as grian remembered….. if grian’s hand still fit perfectly in scar’s… them bringing everyone coffee in the morning and not having to ask each other because they remember the orders…. when they realise that maybe they’re not so out of love as they thought….

space au!scarian are also technically roommates but instead of forced close proximity they are the opposite </3 and grian lies that it’s earlier than it is so he can keep talking to scar and scar always sees through it and let’s the lie go for a few minutes because maybe he’s selfish too…. and they miss each other desperately, and their bed has a cold side every morning… and the sunrises don’t feel the same anymore…. and space food is so bland and zero-gravity isn’t very fun when it can’t be shared….. the only thing that keeps them going is that they are looking at the same moon, sun, stars… and they’ll be back together before they know it… but that still feels way too far away….

#scarian in any universe make me so incoherent that all i can manage are keysmashes #they are so !!!!!!!!!#i love them so much #scarian #desert duo #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #grian #gtws #space au #sharehouse anon

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aliwritesfic · 1 year

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The Night Shift (part 7) (Frankie Morales x F!Reader)

So uh,,,,, it's been a while........ perhaps this is the end of my block? one can only hope. anyway, if you're still here, i love you <3

part 6 part 8

The rain didn’t stop for the rest of the weekend, instead, it seemed to move between a light drizzle in the afternoons to raging storms during the night. It had gotten so bad that Ethan had relented to driving you on both Monday and Tuesday, a task he had bemoaned the entire way. You had sat silently in the passenger seat, watching the water droplets on the window.

“I can’t pick you up in the morning,” he said on Wednesday, pulling into the small parking lot behind the diner. Through the window, you could see the shape of Frankie sitting in his truck.

“That’s fine,” you said.

“Debra needs me to come in early at the office,” he explained, even though you didn’t ask why. You weren’t sure you really cared that the excuse sounded sketchy as hell. A six in-the-morning start? You weren’t stupid.

“Okay,” you said simply. You had an umbrella in your bag and knew you could wait out any major storms in the diner.

“See you tomorrow,” he leaned over, gripped the back of your neck uncomfortably tight, and kissed you roughly. Ethan had never really been a pleasant kisser, or maybe he was a perfectly fine kisser, and kissing wasn’t something you really enjoyed. You weren’t sure.

You counted to five in your head and pulled away, the taste of ash in your mouth. He had been smoking again. Probably with his shithead friends, hopefully with the windows open.

I don’t like you anymore.

The thought came quickly as you looked at Ethan in the dim light and for a moment you were overcome with nausea. The truth of it rocked you, flipped your stomach.

Before you could dissect the thought too thoroughly, you dashed inside the diner, clothes soaking through quickly. Shivering in the doorway, you peeled off your heavy jacket and hung it up on the hook usually reserved for aprons.

You caught Frankie’s eye as you passed through the kitchen. The past couple of nights the rain had kept most people inside, meaning you were free to take over the kitchen (or at least part of it) as you saw fit, spreading out across the stainless steel benchtops trying to figure out if your love of adding an insane amount of lemon was perhaps too much for everyone else. So far, Frankie had been a willing guinea pig for your experiments.

The first couple hours into your shift kept you busy enough; mostly fellow night workers getting dinner and caffeine before their own shifts started. The rain kept most of the regulars away as the storm worsened through the night.

It was almost midnight when the power went out.

“Oh, fuck,” you said setting down the coffee pot. You looked back at Frankie, who was looking at you.

“Uh,” he looked at the spatula in his hand, as if seeing it for the first time.

“Out,” you turned to the lone customer, handing him a to-go cup for his coffee. He left without much argument, allowing you to lock the front doors behind him.

Through the rain-streaked glass, you could see rest of the street had lost power, creating almost absolute darkness that was broken only by the occasional flash of lightning.

“I’ve turned off all the main switches in here,” Frankie called. You nodded. You hadn’t even thought of anything besides locking the doors and drinking the last of the coffee before it went bad.

Frankie appeared by your side, looking out onto the street.

“Oh, see that?” He pointed into the darkness. You squinted and shook your head, moving closer to the glass. He took your shoulders gently, his grip firm. Your heart stuttered as he guided your body to better see.

“About a hundred yards up,” he murmured. A tree, an oak probably, had fallen and knocked over a power line.

You groaned. “That’s gonna take forever to fix.”

“Do we have to stay?” Frankie still hadn’t moved his hands and every fiber of your being was aware of it.

You shook your head. “You don’t have to if you don’t wanna.”

“But you do?”

“Not technically,” you said, “but I’ll stick around anyway, just until we can find out when the power will be back on.” Truthfully, you weren’t keen on walking home in that weather.

“Well, I’ll stick around with you. Want a sandwich?”

Less than ten minutes later, the both of you were sequestered in a booth with coffee, sandwiches, and a view of the fallen tree when the lightning flashed.

“So, that was Ethan, huh?” Frankie broke the silence. You nodded without saying anything. Somehow, the sound of Ethan’s name coming out of Frankie’s mouth made you feel a little sick. It felt wrong.

The wind howled outside, the sound cut only by the rumbling of thunder. “Can I tell you something? And it can’t leave these four walls? Not even Manny can know because he will be so fucking smug about it.”

“Yeah, anything.” Frankie sat forward, all his attention on you.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, scared to say the words aloud. It was one thing to think them, to feel them occasionally in times of discontent, but it was another thing entirely to speak them into existence. Speaking them made them real, made it so you could never take them back.

“I - I don’t want to be with him anymore. I don’t like him as a person, I don’t think I’ve been happy in a while. I need to get out of that fucking place it’s suffocating me.” You paused, collecting your thoughts. Frankie waited silently, dark eyes on you. “But I’m really scared. Like more scared than I’ve ever been. It probably sounds stupid, with everything you’ve seen and done, like relationship drama, is probably so fucking inane to you.”

“It’s not,” he said quietly. You tilted your head, tears welling up suddenly. “Do you want advice or just an ear?”

“I don��t know,” you groaned and pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, “I’m just so fucking confused.”

“What about?”

“Everything. I need a fucking therapist. Maybe I should ask for a sign to bite the bullet and break up with him.” Outside, a loud crash made the both of you jump as lightning struck another tree. ”Surely fucking not! That’s it! I’m gonna do it! I’m gonna- well, now that’s sorted, what’s new with you?”

“Just like that?” Frankie raised a brow. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll sort it all out. Don’t worry about me,” you smiled, feeling light. Your chest, your shoulders, and your own soul felt like it had been put through the washing machine and had come out brand new. Was Frankie some kind of emotional wizard, able to extract and make sense of your clouded emotions with barely even a word? Or was that just the effect of finally being able to get all your thoughts together and hear them aloud?

You decided to give the praise to Frankie - after all, if he wasn’t here, you wouldn’t have even said the words. You wouldn’t have come to this decision. You grinned at Frankie, winning one of those heart-stuttering smiles back.

June had a way of making Frankie feel not so lonely. They could have been the only two people in the world, and he wouldn’t have noticed. It would have been enough for him.

She had set up your phone against a pair of salt and pepper shakers, turning on a show she had been binging. June had been explaining the plot and characters, but he was barely even taking it in. Her earlier words rattled around in his brain, the declaration that she was done with Ethan. Frankie had spotted him earlier, in the parking lot dropping you off. It had made him feel . . . angry to see. So angry he had barely spoken a word to June all night until the power went out. Stewing in his feelings, hardly able to look at her for fear of snapping at her. He wasn’t mad at her. He didn’t even know what exactly he was mad at, but the feeling had lasted too long for comfort.

June’s laughter rang out, her eyes on the small phone screen. Frankie looked at her, repeating her words in his mind. She was done with Ethan, that much he was certain about. It was the only thing he was certain about. Everything else was murky, and confusing in his broken, rotting brain.

Pushing his feelings to the side, he decided to deal with them later. “How are you getting home?”

June glanced out the window. The sky outside was still dark and stormy, even though the sun should have been rising. “I’ll walk when the rain lets up.”

“It’s supposed to be like this all day,” Frankie said.

June groaned. “Really? You’re sure? Ugh, I’ll get an Uber or something.”

“You’re not getting an Uber.”

“No, it’s so far out of your way.”

“What if it wasn’t?”

“But it is, so your point is moot.” June was smirking triumphantly as if that put the matter to bed. Frankie rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“What if you come back to my place? Just for the day, to get your head together?”

June’s face softened. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Frankie’s voice was firm. “Plus, Benny is probably there and I know he’d love to meet you.”

“Only if it’s not a nuisance for you.”

“You would never be,” Frankie said. He meant it, every word. She never would be, not to him.

tagging: @maievdenoir@luvmeijii@phandoz@you-got-me-starry-eyed@sunnshineeexoxo @meandorla

#frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales #frankie morales x you #the night shift

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flutteringfable · 10 months

Text

post shouki no kami comfort

finally. FINALLY. ITS DONEEEE -<3

enjoy 2841 words of cael and scara being sweet and in love. it’s 12:19 am so i’m too eepy to proofread this anymore, i’m just happy it’s done, so ignore any mistakes. it should be fine for the most part though!

no warnings aside from a brief blood mention, scara’s arm is broken but it’s more of a large crack in his arm bc doll anatomy, and i guess nudity? in a nonsexual context of course (they take a bath together <3)

moonlight spilled dimly through the trees, barely illuminating the paths through the city. scaramouche didn’t need much light, anyway; he had every route to cael’s house memorized. he coughed, cursing under his breath. why had he been given lungs? they seemed to do nothing but weaken when they were filled with debris. being able to breathe used to be one of his favorite things, because it made him feel more human, but once he discovered how fragile his lungs truly were it was less appealing.

he held one piece of his left arm up to a crack in his elbow to keep it from falling off completely. he was amazed that only one of his limbs had broken, though the rest of his body was covered in sizable cracks and bruises.

if this was anything close to the human experience, maybe scaramouche didn’t really want it after all.

he gingerly lowered his broken arm and wiped synthetic blood from his face, trying to make himself look somewhat presentable and less like the broken mess he was. after taking a deep breath (which ended up dissolving into a coughing fit), he raised his good arm to the door and knocked.

a few moments passed. scaramouche considered leaving before the door opened, and he was greeted by a familiar sleepy face.

“ah— kuni?” cael was rubbing one eye behind his glasses. “what brings you here so la—“

cael paused, and scaramouche watched as the taller man’s face fell. almost immediately, cael was leading him inside.

“what happened?” he exclaimed, a mrrp of panic rising in his throat. “are you okay?”

as scaramouche carefully took a seat on cael’s sofa, he took another breath (carefully this time) before speaking again.

“do… do you remember… the project i showed you?” he despised how weak his voice sounded. “i was… i was so close, cael. i was going to be a god…”

an unfamiliar lump built in his throat, causing his voice to falter. had he not been so exhausted and broken, scaramouche would have made more of an effort to keep the tears from spilling onto his cheeks. every effort to calm himself down only made it worse, and within moments he was a sobbing, hiccuping mess.

almost as soon as the first whimper left his mouth, he was pulled gently against cael’s chest. his head rested perfectly above the taller man’s heart.

“hey, shh, i’ve got you,” cael whispered, cradling scaramouche’s head with one hand. “you’re home now, you’re safe.”

“i’m sorry,” scaramouche mumbled. “i don’t know why i can’t control my tears… i’m sure it’s probably annoying…”

cael shook his head, picking up a roll of bandages from the coffee table. he had brought them in his hurry to get scaramouche inside, presumably.

“there’s no need to be sorry, kuni,” he spoke gently, adjusting scaramouche’s broken arm to bind it temporarily with the bandages. “this is a normal reaction, especially after all the stress of the past few months. you’re not a bother. you can lean against me and cry for as long as you need.”

after cael carefully bandaged scaramouche’s broken arm, he held him close.

“cael…” scaramouche mumbled. “why do you still care so much for me? i’m nothing anymore, i’m pathetic…”

the taller man hummed shortly, puzzled.

“what do you mean, darling?” he asked, stroking scaramouche’s hair. “i don’t think you’re pathetic at all.”

“what good am i to you anymore? i’m not a god; i’m not even a harbinger. i’m just… a puppet now. not even human. what worth do you see in me?”

“i didn’t fall in love with you because you were a god, kuni. hell, i didn’t fall in love with you because you were a harbinger. you are so much more than just your power to me, darling. i love seeing you every morning when you come into the cafe for tea. i love listening to you snark about your coworkers, and about the akademiya. i love seeing you curled up beside me every evening, even if you don’t need to sleep. kuni, you mean the world to me, and it has nothing to do with how powerful or important you are to others. i love you because you’re you.”

there was a brief pause, and scaramouche inhaled. his exhale felt shaky as he balled his fists into the back of cael’s sweater. he didn’t deserve someone this kind to him. every time he thought someone truly cared for him, they would turn and betray him sooner or later. it had been that way his whole life. yet, as he pressed his face against cael’s chest, he felt… safe. the gentle rumbling of a purr overpowered the sound of cael’s heartbeat, but the sound was just as comforting to scara.

“i’m so glad you’re alright,” cael sighed, and the crack in his voice caused scaramouche to glance upwards. “i was… really worried…”

“i can’t understand how you still see worth in me…” scaramouche mumbled. “but i appreciate it, i guess. when… when the traveler and buer brought me down, i —“

“the TRAVELER did this to you?!” cael exclaimed. “the next time i see them—“

“don’t bother.” scara reassured him. “you’ll be getting yourself into more trouble than me if you do something rash, especially to the newly appointed ‘first sage of buer’.”

cael sighed, a discontent mrow rumbling in his throat.

“i want to talk to them, at least. but if they lay a finger on you again, they may not be so lucky.”

“how very bold of you,” scara laughed. “you would really take on the world-renowned traveler for me?”

“you underestimate how dedicated i am to protecting you and your happiness. even if i had to explore to the ends of teyvat or take on the abyss, i would do so if if it ensured your safety.”

cael eased out of the hug, leaning back with a sigh. he reached up to pat scara’s head, gazing quietly at him.

“do you want to take a bath? it might help you relax a little,” he suggested. “if not, we can just go straight to bed, i don’t mind either way.”

scara leaned against cael’s hand. “a bath sounds really nice…”

he smiled as cael kissed his forehead and gently scooped him up.

“a bath it is, then.”

he carried scara upstairs, humming to himself as he nudged open the bathroom door with his hip. cael set scara on the edge of the tub, giving him one last kiss on the nose before drawing the bath.

“do you want me to get in with you? i’d be happy to wash your hair for you,” he offered.

scara glanced quizzically at cael. “i get that you’re trying to take care of me and all, but i can wash myself perfectly fine.”

“that wasn’t the question,” cael chuckled, reaching over to gently nudge the shorter man’s leg. “if you don’t want me to, that’s fine, but if you don’t mind, i want to stick around and talk with you, at the very least.”

there was a pause as cael shut off the water.

“mm, alright,” scaramouche sighed. “you can get in with me… and i guess you can wash my hair if you want.”

he chuckled, reaching over to pat the space between cael’s ears. cael faltered a little, leaning into the touch and purring. he fought back a disappointed whine as scara moved away to undress.

“i should’ve never let you know i liked being pet there,” cael huffed, pulling off his sweater. “it seems like all you do is tease me for it now.”

scara laughed, working awkwardly at his hakama with his bound arm. “well, if your reactions weren’t adorable, maybe i wouldn’t tease you so much.”

“fair enough,” cael shrugged. “do you want some help? sorry, i would’ve tied the bandages a little looser if i wasn’t trying to literally hold your arm together.”

after a moment or two more of struggling from scara, he gave in and nodded. cael moved closer and untied scara’s obi, gently setting it and the attached armor on the floor.

“if you want, you can borrow some of my clothes to wear to bed,” cael offered as he continued.

scara laughed, holding out his arms as cael pulled off his gloves. “they’ll probably swallow me up, since you’re so stupidly tall.”

“yeah, but that’s the best part! i don’t get to experience it as often as others do, because like you said, i’m “stupidly tall,” but oversized clothes are so comfy.”

scara rolled his eyes before cael pulled his shirt up over his head. “whatever. we can sort that out after the bath.”

cael nodded. “alright,” he chuckled. “you can go ahead and get in, i’m gonna get some towe-“

scara flinched as he heard cael abruptly gasp.

“what—?”

“your chest!” cael beamed, purring.

“hm..? oh. yeah, before i went in to pilot the shouki no kami, i had dottore modify my body.”

cael blinked owlishly. “really? dottore did this? i can’t believe that archons-forsaken doctor did something right for once.”

scara laughed. “you and me both.”

“regardless, i’m so happy for you!” cael traced the scars on scaramouche’s chest. he paused, snorting.

“it must be a huge weight off your chest.”

“gods, have you been hanging around the general mahamatra again?” scara groaned, leaning away and scowling. “that’s the worst joke i think i’ve ever heard.”

cael laughed. “okay, okay, i’m sorry! it was just too good an opportunity to pass up!”

“i think i’m starting to understand how that botanist fox feels,” he remarked with a huff.

“nooo! i’m sorry, darling!” cael laughed.

he pouted as scara turned away, and inched closer with a pout.

“c’monnn, don’t tell me you hate me for that,” cael leaned down to put his head on scara’s shoulder. “be thankful you aren’t actually stuck with cyno. i dunno how tighnari puts up with him enough to be his husband.”

scara sighed and reached behind him to pat cael’s head reluctantly. “whatever. you’re stupid.”

“says the one who decided to ask dottore of all people to give him top surgery.”

“weren’t you just saying how proud of me you were?”

cael laughed and nuzzled against scara’s hair.

“i am. i’m so happy for you, my dear.” he softened, reaching around to hold the shorter man by the waist.

scara leaned back against cael in return. they stood there quietly for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence before cael stood back up.

“alright, i guess i should go get the towels now. be right back.”

he kissed scara and headed out, humming to himself.

scara sighed as he sank down into the tub, immediately feeling more at ease as the warm water surrounded him. the bathroom door creaked open as cael returned, setting the towels just outside the tub. he took off his glasses and set them on the counter before he finished undressing and stretched.

“mmh, okay, make room.” he carefully stepped in, easing down into the water.

after a moment of adjustment, cael had scara in front of him, resting against his chest. he gazed down at the ex-balladeer as they relaxed in each other’s arms, earning a scoff from scara after a moment.

“you sure do like to stare,” he remarked, crossing his arms.

cael playfully poked scara’s cheek with a grin. “not my fault you’re so handsome.”

he laughed as scara nuzzled back against his chest. he scooped up a handful of water, pouring it gently over the shorter man’s hair. cael repeated this a few times to make sure scara’s hair was completely wet before he washed it.

“so… what now? i don’t mind living with you, but i imagine lord kusanali will want to have a word with you eventually.”

scara sighed, shrugging as cael worked shampoo through his hair.

“i don’t know. the harbingers probably won’t want me back after i failed such a large-scale mission, and frankly, i have no other business with them besides getting revenge on dottore, so i don’t have much of a choice. she probably knows where i am now, if i’m being honest. i don’t know what she wants with me… she didn’t kill me after the battle, so presumably she sees some use for me. i don’t want to think about it right now.”

“fair enough,” cael replied. “hmm… what do you want for breakfast tomorrow? i know you don’t technically have to eat, but i like cooking for both of us.”

scara pondered for a moment, shutting his eyes briefly as cael rinsed his hair. “i like the way you make eggs, i guess.”

“i think i could arrange that,” cael smiled. “oh— do you want to wash my hair? i can lean down for you if you need since it’s hard to move your arm.”

“…sure,” scara replied.

cael lowered his head, as promised, and scara reached up to rinse his hair. he was careful to keep the water out of cael’s ears as he poured it gently over his hair.

the two spent a while longer in the bath once cael’s hair was washed. cael traced circles on scara’s shoulder with his finger, humming quietly.

“mm, i’m gonna fall asleep if you do that,” scara muttered, pouting up at cael from his place against the taller man’s chest.

cael laughed, sitting up a little. “i guess that means it’s time to get out and dry off.”

scara leaned back, stretching with a soft groan. he stood up, getting out carefully. he picked up one of the towels and bundled himself in it after rubbing his hair dry. cael wasn’t far behind, and yawned softly.

“mmh, let’s go find you something to wear to bed,” he mumbled. “if we take much longer i might fall asleep standing up.”

scara shrugged. “i could carry you if i needed to.”

“with one arm?” cael raised a brow, chuckling.

scara shot him a look, but sighed as he muttered “probably not, i guess.”

cael decided not to tease him further, and led him to the bedroom. the shorter man finally looked tired again as he sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for cael. the creak of a dresser drawer and soft shuffling were the only noises in the room as cael searched through his clothing for something for scara to wear to bed.

“do you want to wear one of my sweaters?” he offered, holding up a pink one with a white cat on the front.

“leave it to you to have something so sickeningly cute,” scara remarked with an amused huff. “but sure. thanks.”

he raised his arms, letting cael gently pull the sweater over his head. just as scara had predicted, it reached well past his waist, and the sleeve ends flopped over his hands. regardless, he snuggled into the plush fabric, sighing softly. he must have shut his eyes a moment too long, because he was startled awake by cael laughing softly at him.

“one more thing, and then i’ll let you go ahead and sleep,” he remarked. “i brought your clothes back from the bathroom; they’re on the chair by the window.”

cael crouched down to help scara back into his underwear, and then brushed his still-damp bangs aside to kiss him on the forehead.

“okay, that’s everything. you can go ahead and get comfy while you wait on me if you want.”

despite his exhaustion, scara managed to wait until cael had changed and was curled up beside him to even think about letting himself fall asleep. once cael was settled in, scara snuggled close and shut his eyes.

“i don’t deserve you, cael,” he mumbled, sighing as he carefully draped his injured arm over cael’s side. “but i’m so happy you care for me.”

cael looked down as he rubbed gentle circles on scaramouche’s back. “on the contrary, kuni. i think you’ve needed someone to care about you for a while now, and i’m more than honored to be that person for you.”

scara yawned, feeling his exhaustion slowly overtake him as he curled up against cael. soon enough, the two were sound asleep in each other’s arms.

#fable writes 💫#cael x scara #cael osman #cael and scara #scaramouche genshin #genshin oc #genshin oc x canon #oc x canon

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